Adria Arjona In Andor S02E04

Lyrical starter call from her inspo playlist ? smush

she  doesn't  waste  another  glance  on  the  brewing  storm.  she'd  spent  enough  years  tending  the  aftermath  of  ego;  split  lips,  shattered  knuckles,  the  kind  of  hurt  that  clings  long  after  the  blood  dries.  the  pressure  built  from  years  of  silence  and  pushing  war  down  your  throat  because  it's  not  man  enough  to  admit  it's  there.  so  the  marines  punch  the  Green  Berets  and  the  SEALS  knock  both  of  them  to  the  ground.  on  and  on,  like  all  traditions  of  broken  systems  and  the  bodies  they  leave  behind.  it’s  an  old  but  familiar  ache  now,  a  quiet  grief  for  how  easily  people  throw  themselves  into  ruin,  knowing  there's  nothing  she  could  do  to  stop  it.

❛ smart.  ❜  once,  she  might  have  stayed.  might  have  tilted  her  chin  up  and  thrown  herself  into  the  fray  out  of  pride  or  stubbornness,  to  prove  she  could  survive.  it's  almost  worse  knowing  she  can.  worse,  even  that  she  might  have  tried  to  if  she  had  felt  the  spark  of  violence  gather  close  enough  to  the  surface.  gloria  was  grateful  for  lizzie's  presence.  a  tether  to  the  femininity  the  former  combat  medic  nurtures  within  herself  as  though  it  might  undo  every  terrible  act.

❛ not  just  that,  i  have  a  bottle  of  zacapa  if  you  think  you  can  handle  it.  ❜  it's  a  gentle  nudge  of  words,  limbs  slipping  into  her  jacket,  purse  tucked  high  beneath  her  arm.  gloria  bids  the  rabble  behind,  leading  out  the  door.   

lizzie dons a mask of careful ambivalence,   holding the brewing fight in her peripheral as her sights languidly cycle:   her present company,   her empty glass,   the fine lace of condensation wound along its surface.   a tattered slice of lime sits at the bottom,   sprawled over half-melted ice.   she prods at it with the end of her straw,   quietly indignant of the acuteness of her awareness so deep into the night,   but she avoids the bartender’s eye.   tries to stifle the way she stiffens as egos swell,   boisterous voices teasing the bounds of violence.   she knows this game.   could,   theoretically,   understand its basest appeal:   the thrill of a fight projected.   life rendered in adrenaline bursts and broken skin.   finds herself,   suddenly,   inwardly,   grateful gloria doesn’t seem to share in this interest.   

“not much of a gambler.”   only in the company she keeps,   if murmurs were to be believed—   diluting their business to the simple whim of gangsters and murderers.   as if she were any better.   but,   stealing another glance over her shoulder,   lips pursing in careful assessment,   lizzie inclined to agree.   with a little over a foot of difference between them,   they weren’t exactly entering on even odds.

“yeah?”   she smiles at @medicbled's choice of word,   obnoxious,   shouldering her purse in silent acceptance.   

"If I'm giving up everything...I want to win. We have to."

 ❛  there  ain’t  language  for  the  things  i’ve  seen.  ❜

A  PEAK  AT  WHAT’S  INSIDE  THEIR          .    .    .

[  *  ]      writing prompt      )         :             send a number  1 - 30  to take a closer look inside this characters life.        /        below you will find a series of various prompts offering a look inside a characters every day life.        these are meant to invoke character development     &     can also be altered as seen fit to better suit the character in question.         bonus if you explain why it’s there!

01.     pockets. 02.     bag   /   purse. 03.     car trunk. 04.     car glovebox. 05.     closet. 06.     bedside table drawer. 07.     medicine cabinet. 08.     wallet. 09.     “junk” drawer. 10.     pantry. 11.     phone home screen. 12.     frequently used emojis. 13.     to do list. 14.     computer home screen. 15.     bookcase. 16.     cd collection. 17.     calendar for this month. 18.     “secret” hiding spot. 19.     five most recent in contact list.  20.     refrigerator.  21.     home safe.  22.     amazon shopping cart.  23.     bank account.  24.     first aid kit.  25.     five most recent in google search history.  26.     most used playlist.  27.     least used playlist.  28.     five most recent sent text messages  29.     five most recent received text messages  30.     netflix watch history. 

LOCATION  BASED  SMUT  PROMPTS

TRANSPORATION 

one muse gives the other oral while they drive. 

driver uses one hand to finger the other while on a long road trip.

muses join mile high club in an airplane restroom.

in an airplane one muse has to be quiet while the other muse plays with them in their seats.

muses tease each other in the back of a taxi cab on the way home. 

while driving home after a date,  they get too impatient and pull into a parking lot to have sex. 

while driving in the middle of a forest,  our muses pull onto the side of the road for sex. 

our muses are on a road trip but a thick fog forces them to take a break.  they have sex inside the car while waiting for it to clear. 

while at the drive in theater,  muses participate in foreplay. 

while at the drive in theater,  muses forego watching the movie to have sex. 

revenge sex in someone else’s car. 

sex in someone else’s car due to impatience and carelessness. 

a quickie while parallel parked on a busy road. 

in an empty train car while freighthopping. 

in a crowded bus,  one muse sitting in the others lap purposefully and subtly grinding to get them worked up. 

in a private jet,  on the way to a business trip. 

in a private jet,  on the way to a vacation spot. 

one muse masturbates while the other drives. 

driver instructs the passenger to touch themselves through guided masturbation. 

while one muse drives,  they describe what they want to do to the passenger who isn’t allowed to touch themselves. 

NATURE

sensual sex in a secluded meadow during a picnic. 

one muse holding the other up against a tree. 

in a cabin in the middle of a rainstorm late at night. 

in a cabin in the middle of a heavy snowstorm during the day. 

in the bed of a truck in front of hiking trails. 

in the bed of a truck while stargazing. 

a plateau overlooking the ocean on a cloudy day. 

one muse has been napping in a hammock and the other wakes them by beginning to finger them. 

muses get distracted from sunbathing and start to fool around by a poolside or lake. 

inside a gazebo while it rains. 

a little ways off from a hiking trail,  hidden by thick foliage. 

mutual masturbation while camping in a tent. 

beneath the shade of trees in the middle of an orchard. 

between rows in a vineyard. 

hidden away in the dead end of a hedge maze. 

PUBLIC

in a bar or restaurant,  one muse sneaks under table to eat out the other. 

in a bar or restaurant,  muses discuss in detail what they’re going to do to each other once they get home. 

inside the stall of restroom in a bar. 

inside a single bathroom of a place of service (restaurant,  store,  club etc.)

in a hotel room,  up against the window overlooking a busy city.

a quickie in a diner restroom before getting back on the road. 

up on a rooftop where no one is supposed to be. 

inside one muses’s office. 

inside a third party’s office they shouldn’t have access to. 

inside an empty church on a weekday. 

one muse fondling the other while they’re trying to shop. 

foreplay and teasing in the dressing room of a store. 

oral performed while hidden in a storage room or closet. 

inside an abandoned house. 

hushed sex while staying in the guest room of another’s home. 

in the middle of a park late at night. 

PRIVATE

on the floor,  in front of the fireplace to warm up after coming inside from winter storm. 

one muse on the bathroom counter while the other stands. 

in front of the bathroom mirror so they can watch themselves. 

to break in a new house or apartment,  boxes scattered about and furniture newly placed. 

bent over a table while something bakes in the oven. 

on the kitchen counter with half-eaten plates of breakfast forgotten. 

one muse spread out across the top of a grand piano,  pretty woman style. 

rushed and desperate,  messy on the couch because they were too impatient to even make it to the bedroom. 

one muse riding the other while the tv plays in the background,  movie forgotten entirely. 

on the balcony in early morning,  where neighbors might see,  but no one will likely look. 

gloria's cool date idea: a fucking nap and you pretend like she didn't drool on you a little bit cause she's comfortable with you.

🌶️ SC // @weaponid ( frank )

no  words,  no  hesitation.  not  anymore,  not  when  they'd  spent  so  long  trying  to  rationalize  and  stay  away  or  convince  one  another:  never  again.  his  mouth  crashed  against  hers,  the  taste  of  smoke  and  sweat  and  adrenaline  still  roaring  hot  beneath  his  skin.  she  lets  him  take.  let  herself  take  what  wasn't  hers.  fingers  curled  around  the  chain  that  marked  them  both  as  numbers  and  cannon  fodder,  yanking  him  down  like  it  wasn’t  fast  enough,  never  fast  enough.  she  could  still  smell  the  blood  on  him,  on  both  of  them.  could  still  feel  the  ghost  of  the  fight  buzzing  under  her  skin  and  gnawing  at  her  nerves.  strung  so  tightly  she  might  shatter  if  she  didn’t  have  something  to  ground  her,  to  hurt  her,  to  remind  her  she  was  alive.

frank  didn't  ask  and  neither  did  she,  that  fucked  up  tether  keeping  them  soulbound  in  ruin  speaks  for  them.  gloria  shoved  him  backward  with  a  snarl  caught  in  her  throat,  pushing  until  the  back  of  his  knees  hit  the  bed.  it  wasn't  grace,  it  was  instinct  as  she  pried  his  belt  open  with  the  same  frantic  dexterity  it  took  to  pull  a  tourniquet  tight.  feral  tangle  of  limbs  and  need,  clawing  at  flak  and  cotton,  scraping  at  skin  and  trying  to  tear  him  apart  just  to  feel  something  through  the  noise.  just  to  have  him  destroy  her  in  return.  she  straddles  him,  fingers  digging  into  his  shoulders,  nails  biting  down  hard  enough  to  leave  moons  in  battered  flesh.  marks  that  will  wither  with  time,  but  for  now  she  wants  him  to  wear  her  like  the  agony  that  lives  between  her  ribs  when  he  isn't  inside  her.  ❛ i'm  sorry.  ❜  teeth  tugging  at  lips,  tongue  tangled  up  like  she's  prying  hell  through  the  gates  of  heaven.  ❛ sorry  i  can't  stop  needing  you.  ❜  

her  jaw  tightens  with  the  kind  of  tension  that  comes  from  holding  too  much  in.  too  much  blood,  too  much  memory,  too  much  of  that  awful,  helpless  ache  that  comes  when  it’s  a  kid  on  the  table  and  the  universe  dares  to  keep  spinning.

at  the  sound  of  mel's  voice,  she  turns  to  face  her.  there’s  always  the  undertone  of  something  haunted  in  her  gaze,  but  it  doesn’t  waver.  not,  when  the  junior  staff  are  looking  at  her  like  she’s  supposed  to  make  it  make  sense.

❛  yes,  doctor  king,  please,  ask.  ❜

Mel doesn't like this. She doesn't like when it's kids; she doesn't like when there are parents, and siblings, just a few steps away.

Eyes daring between Dr. Robby's still frame and the boy on the gurney, Mel wonders what's keeping their boss from sharing a few words of guidance. Whether it's a reassurance or next steps, she'd like to hear it.

But Robby remains silent.

"Uh, Dr. De Lima," Mel tilts her head to the hallway. "Can I ask a question?"

one thing about gloria is that, she loves very intensely. it isn’t something fleeting that can be turned on an off like a faucet. yes, she can have a one night stand but it won’t mean a single thing to her…she won’t even get off. if she has feelings for someone and she isn’t sure they’d want her because they have not shown anywhere close to signs she would recognize, she won’t do a damn thing. but back to the point, they might not be able to handle the level of love she has to give. it’s consuming, it comes from the perspective of someone that leaves claw marks in things because she can’t hold onto things. people die, people fade and time is a luxury.