#I'm good man someone flip my switch

[medicinemane]

You know, looking at a diet soda can it occurs to me that it might not be so wretched to me if the cans weren't so unpleasant

Like we know that things like color play a role in how our brain perceives things, and I realized looking at the can that they're always this bland but at the same time nasty looking silver and it just... it looks foul and I think that compounds with the fact that I also just plain don't like diet soda

My point here isn't to say anyone else shouldn't like diet soda, just how I never realized how much of an impact the can has on me not liking it... there's just something offputting about it to me

[atlasmoonglade]

University AU Enemies to lovers

Joost Klein x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, PiV (protected), 18+ only

It's a Friday evening, soft music is playing through the speakers on Max's desk, mixing in with the chatter of your friends. Everyone is sitting in different spaces around the room, some on the desk, some on Max's bed, you and Olivia rest on Max's roommate’s bed. Red solo cups of beer are scattered amongst the room. It was calm and then the door swung open.

"Yooo!!" The entering voice rang, instantly earning a happy response from Max, who hops off his bed and heads towards the entrance.

“Joost!” Max exclaims, arms open wide to embrace his friend. “Where the hell you have been, man?”

"Consider my good time ruined" you mutter.

"Be nice" Olivia pats your knee.

"I am always nice. It's him who always starts shit. That di-"

"Hey, Y/N" Joost greets, taking a seat on the opposite bed. "Hey, Olivia."

"Hey, Joost" Olivia smiles. When you don't say anything, she nudges her elbow into your side.

You roll your eyes. "Hi, Joost"

"C'mon, that's all I get?" he teases. "What's wrong? You tired?"

"You have no idea" you say, finally looking at him. He is wearing a green long sleeve polo shirt and a hat, his blond messy hair sticking out the front it.

"Aw, is it past your bed time?"

"And the day is just starting for you? Let me guess, you just rolled out of bed."

"Oh, God" someone says "Here they go again."

"Max invited me here. I am more fun than someone who sits with a sour face all the time."

"Why are you talking to me? Don't you have anything better to do?"

"You know" Max says. "if you two just - I'm gonna say it - fucked one good time. You would get over this rivalry already."

Your jaw drops, you look at Olivia, who just shrugs.

"Don't ever say that again, Max. Ew" you say disgusted at the thought.

"Ew?" Joost says offended. "You would be lucky if I even considered it."

Your jaw drops even lower. "You arrogant asshole" you sit down straight. "And this is who you all want around?"

"Stop it you two." someone says.

You can't see yourself ever getting along with him. This "rivalry" as your friends call it has started a long time ago. During the first week of introductions, he asked you to speak louder, which completely messed up your track of thought and earned some laughs from the auditory. So, after the first homework tasks, you called his presentation uninspiring and poorly structured. He took the last internship place, which he knew you wanted. So, you assigned to write the final paper with the professor, he was planning to ask. You showed his old embarrassing Youtube videos to a girl he wanted to ask out, which lead to her blocking his number. So, he fucked your roommate, while you were still in the room. He calls you short tack, princess, anything but your name, making fun of the fact that he is taller than you. List of insults you call him is too long.

"I'm gonna head out" you stand up to leave.

"I'll come with you" Olivia left with you.

You take your favorite seat in the auditorium, noise of chatting students around you as you take out your laptop. The professor walks in, prepared to start the lecture. The room falling into gradual silence, then the door opens and Joost walks in. You watch him take his place further up, he notices you looking and flips you off. You mock him and flip him off back.

At the end of the lecture professor announces "As you all know the final paper consists of a group presentation. I took liberty and divided you into pairs. I will also email you the list." he pulls up the list on the projector screen. You search for your name. As soon you see it, the color drains from your face.

No. No, this must be a mistake.

A groan is heard from the back of the auditorium. "Professor, I am not working with her." Joost says annoyance clear in his voice. "Switch me to be with someone else."

You are sat in disbelief that you got assigned to write the final paper with Joost.

"This is a final list." Professor looks at the whole class. "Drop this attitude and act like grownups."

As the lecture ends, you hurry to the professors desk. "Sir, this is not going to work. He is going to sabotage my results. Can I just switch with someone?" you look at him with pleading eyes. "Anyone else."

"I assigned pairs randomly, so everyone has equal chances. You have to learn to work with everyone." he says. "This is final."

Joost rushes past us towards the exit. You roll your eyes. This can't be happening.

You meet with Olivia and tell her everything. She laughs in shock at first, but then insists you'll be fine, that you are adults and both want this done one way or another. You knew it’d be a miracle if Joost and you made it through 15 minutes of working on something together. 

You and Joost still haven't talked about it, as if pushing it to the last minute would solve the problem. It is halloween night, you are getting ready for the party, your costume is inspired by Britney Spears in her music video Baby one more time. You finish braiding your hair into two braids, fix your skirt, wait for Olivia and you head out to the party.

Loud music, neon lights, you already had a couple of drinks, feeling a nice buzz. Someone from the group of your friends suggests to play Spin the bottle.

"Hell yeah, let's do it." Max puts his hand around you. "C'mon grumps, you joining us?"

You push his hand away. "I am" you make kissing face at him. "Always dreamt of kissing you" your voice full of sarcasm. You and Max burst out laughing.

Your usual group of friends and a few people you met at the party find space in the house to set up the game, music still loud around you. Olivia brings the bottle, as you are all sitting in a circle, ready to start.

"Is there still space for me?" a voice behind you asks. You turn around to see Joost, his face painted to resemble a skull, he is wearing a black suit, which doesn't properly fit him and a red tie.

"Sure, man! We've been looking for you." Max makes room for Joost to sit next to him, opposite of you.

"I was a little busy with this girl I met." he says as he sits down. "Glad I found you guys just in time." his eyes find yours and he smirks.

"We are so lucky" you say contemplating if you should just leave. Olivia looks at you shaking her head as if trying to tell you "don't start it again", you roll your eyes.

For the past 15 minutes there was a lot of cheering as people kiss. Some give just a little peck, others fully commit, tongue and all. Max is currently making out with a girl from an acting class. Her hands are in his hair as they deepen the kiss.

"Okay okay. I am afraid you will start fucking soon." someone says. "I am not drunk enough to see that."

Everyone laughs and they pull apart, going back to their places.

It is your turn to spin the bottle, you down your drink and reach for the bottle. You give it a good spin, watching it, already knowing you will just give a little peck to whoever it lands on. The bottle slows and comes to a stop. You follow the neck of the bottle, it points to Joost. Everyone erupts into loud cheering and whistling.

"Finally!" someone says.

You look at Joost. Universe must be punishing you for something.

"Bring it on, princess." he messes up his hair. "Hope it's not gonna be your first kiss." he licks his lips.

"Pass." you say with a smile and cross your arms against your chess.

"No, that's not how this works" Max chimes in. "No skipping your turn."

You groan and look at the ceiling hoping you can just die on the spot.

Joost stands up and offers you his hand. "We will go somewhere private. Won't give you all a show. It is her first time, has to be special."

"Oh, shut up" you say. "Let's just move on, everyone"

"Just trust me." he kneels down next to you. "Can you do that for once?" he says looking into your eyes.

You stand up without his help and head towards the first room you see, you can hear his footsteps behind you.

You walk in and close the door behind you as he walks towards the window.

"I am not kissing you." you say.

"I wasn't planning on that" he replies and opens the window, he takes out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, puts one in between his lips and reaches for a lighter.

"You should quit that." you point at the cigarette in between his fingers.

He chuckles and takes a drag of a cigarette as you stand in silence.

"About that presentation.. " you start.

"I emailed the head of the department asking to let us switch partners." he looks down at his shoes. "He said no"

You look at him with your eyes wide.

"You would hate to work with me that much?" you ask shocked he went that far.

"I was doing it for the both of us. You know it would be a disaster. But since we are stuck together, promise me you won't fuck this up for us." he lifts his head up to look at you.

All of your anger returns. You can't believe you were about to offer him to put your differences behind you.

"Fuck you, Joost. Why do you think I would be the one to fuck this up? You are the unreliable one. Always gone somewhere doing fuckall with whoever." your hands ball into fists. "Fuck you" you say again and storm out of the room.

You leave the party without saying bye to anyone, you just need to go back to your room to calm down.

The street you walk back to the dorm is silent, lit up only by sporadic streetlights. It's late enough that everyone is already asleep or partying. Your head clears from the alcohol. You are deep in your thoughts, and suddenly you hear fast approaching footsteps behind you. You don't have enough time to realise what is happening, you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. A flight or fight response kicks in and you scream, turn around and throw a punch, not risking waisting time to think about it.

Your fist connects with something.

"Ouch. You fucking bitch" you open your eyes to see Joost holding his cheek. It's not until you smell a familiar scent, cigarettes with cologne, your panic subsides a little. You think of how stupid your argument over the presentation was. The fear of being robbed or worse, has made you realise that Joost is not the enemy and never has been. Your hands start to shake and you burst into tears.

And then you hug him, your arms tight around his middle, he tenses but then wraps an arm around you, feeling you tremble.

"Hey, hey" his voice getting soft. "What's wrong with you" his other hand is still holding his cheek.

"I thought you were a murderer." you let go of him, still shaking.

"I called your name, you didn't hear?"

"No" you say "What are you doing here anyway?"

"No one knew where you disappeared to. I went looking for you." he says letting go of his cheek. The paint of a skull on his face has rubbed off from sweat throughout the night and you can see hints of red from where you hit. You start to feel sorry and embarrassed that you reacted that way. You reach out to him, but drop your hand before it reaches to touch his cheek.

"Let's not tell anyone about this." he suggests. "We can't give them the satisfaction of knowing you hit me"

It draws a laugh out of you and it makes him grin.

"It's the least I can do. I really am sorry, Joost."

"You are nuts for reacting like this...but I really didn't mean to scare you." he says. "Let me walk you home."

You walk together in silence.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier at the party." he says suddenly. "I realise I was kind of an asshole"

"Kind of?"

"Ok, yeah, I overreacted. I guess what i'm trying to say is.. Let's just do that presentation and not kill each other. I already felt your knuckles on my face, don't want that again"

You look at him, seeing the red mark again. "My room. 7pm tomorrow. Let's at least start it"

Olivia left to go to a friend’s place, you changed into comfortable pants and a cropped sweater. You sit at your desk, and wait. You’d told Joost to come at 7. 

There is a knock at 7:14.

"Come in" you say slight annoyance in your voice.

"I'm sorry, short stack"

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna come" you turn in your chair to face him.

"I'm here now" he says taking a seat next to you, smell of cigarettes filling the space.

"I started writing a rough plan." you show him what you wrote on your laptop.

After 30 minutes of you two working out an agenda for the presentation, Joost leans back on his chair. "Wow"

It makes you look at him. "What?"

"Look at us. Not arguing"

"It's only been like half an hour" you look at your watch. "The night is young"

Maybe he has brain damage from the punch, but he can’t lie to himself, that night after the party shifted things. Seeing you so terrified caused a change in him. Feeling your arms around him, clinging to him and trembling so hard, softened him towards you.

He catches himself thinking you look so good all wrapped up in your shared work. He hooks his foot around the leg of your chair and pushes you closer to him.

"What are you doing?" you push yourself back.

"Why are you so far away from me?"

"I am not. I am an appropriate distance from you." you look at him as if he is crazy.

He pushes you closer again and leans in. He acts on an instinct, closes the distance between you and crashes his lips against yours. You press your hands against his chest and push away.

"What the hell was that?" you ask touching your lips.

He is just as speechless as you are. Speechless, and confused, and out of breath, and so pretty. Has he always been that pretty? 

You grab onto the hem of his shirt and pull him back in, pressing your lips together in an aggressive collision. Joost's hands grip your waist and he urges you to straddle him. Without breaking the kiss you put your legs on each side of his and sit on top of his thighs. He grips your hair and deepens the kiss, earning a moan from you, which makes him push up into your clothed core. You feel him hardening.

Joosts hands slide down to your thighs, he scoops you up in his arms, standing up and lifting you up with him. Your legs are wrapped around his torso, your hands on his shoulders. He supports your weight so easily, all while sliding his tongue into your mouth. He carries you over to the bed, dropping you on top of the mattress. He looks down at you with a grin.

"These fuckers were right." he laughs. "We needed this" he leans back to you, his hands sneaking beneath your sweater, pushing it up until your bra is revealed. He looks into your eyes. "Is this okay?"

"Yes" you moan, "Please".

His pushes your bra down, enough to reveal your chest. His lips wrap around your nipple, wetting it with his tongue and applying light suction. A soft moan left your mouth, and you grip onto his hair. He can't stop himself from smiling. He sucks harder, just to hear you make some noise. Any noise.

You rubbed your thighs together for some relief. Joost noticed this and proceeded to stick his hand down your pants, fingers sliding underneath the band of your underwear. He smirks at how soaked you were already and rubs your clit as he licks a trail up to your neck. You tighten your thighs around his hand, gasping at the friction and pulling at the bedsheets. His cock is pressed against the zipper of his jeans, getting to the point that it was excruciating. So, as he massaged your clit, he undid his pants and pushed them down his legs. 

"Do you want to do this?" he looks at you.

"Yes." you reply with no hesitation. "Condoms are in the drawer."

He gets off the bed, finds the pack of condoms, tears the foil with his teeth, and watches you as he rolls the condom on himself. You’re absolutely gorgeous, better than he could have ever imagined.

"How do you want me, princess?” The nickname finally getting a new meaning.

"However you want it.”

"We are doing acrobatics then"

It startles a laugh out of you, and Joost thinks he might love that—the way he makes you laugh.

He takes off your pants together with the underwear, bends your leg, pushes it away from him, closer to you, which reveals your slick core to him.

“Gotta tell me how you want me, and fucking quick.” he groans, just the view of you makes him do mathematics in his head to stop from cumming on the spot.

"Missionary works me." you prop yourself on your elbows.

So he climbs onto you. He kneels between your legs, then pushes them apart obscenely wide. You stay propped up on your elbows, watching him, but when he settles between your thighs, you fall back against your pillow.

“Good?” he asks.

"You haven’t done much,” you point out. 

"Smart-ass.” He reaches down and grasps his cock at the base, and drags the tip through your folds. He coats himself in your arousal, feels the heat of your pussy even through the latex, then notches himself at your entrance. He looks down and pushes into you. He goes slow but steady, and he hears a small gasp fall from your lips.

He remembers the way you clung to him that night, and he wants to capture that feeling again.

He picks up a steady pace, holding your legs apart, kissing your neck. One of his hands makes its way to your clit again, you arch your back as he starts to draw circles around it.

He feels you clench around him. "Joost. I'm so close" you moan and he watches you come undone beneath him, proud of himself — to the point of cockiness. Giving you a few more forceful pumps, he hides his face in your neck, and releases himself into the condom.

You want to remember this forever. Him panting, moaning in your ear. He taps the side of your thigh, pulls out and throws out the condom. You watch him pull up his jeans and sit down at the desk again.

"Let's do this thing"

You and Joost are sitting next to each other in the cafeteria. Max and Olivia join you.

"Look, both are still alive!" Max jokes.

"How did it go yesterday?" Olivia asks looking between the two of you.

A deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

"Wait." Max looks at you, then at Joost. "Did you two...?"

"No way!" Olivia gasps.

"Ok, shut up guys." Joost says

"You owe me 20 bucks" Max says to Olivia.

"Fuck!" Olivia exclaims

"You bet on us?"

"Last year!" Max takes the money from Olivia.

[doumadono]

Synopsis: Bakugo assists you in baking a cake, unaware that it's intended for him :)

A/N: the prompt was baking a cake together, but Bakugo doesn't realize it's for him Happy birthday, my sweet little gremlin!

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST BAKUGO'S BIRTHDAY EVENT 2024

The kitchen was awash with the sweet scent of vanilla and chocolate as you preheated the oven, Bakugo leaning against the counter, eyeing the ingredients laid out on the marble surface. His crimson eyes darted between the measuring cups and mixing bowls, a brow quirked in intrigue.

"What's all this for, nerd?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your heart skip a beat.

You looked up from the recipe book, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "It's just a surprise," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"A surprise, huh?" He tilted his head, a smirk forming on his lips. "Well, don't expect me to stand here and watch you struggle, nerd. I'm helping."

You chuckled, nodding toward the apron hanging on the pantry door. "Then put that on, Chef Bakugo."

He rolled his eyes but complied, tying the apron around his waist with a little too much flair, earning a laugh from you. "Alright, what do you need me to do, Y/N?"

"First," you began, handing him a whisk, "whisk together the dry ingredients — flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt."

Once the dry ingredients were combined, you moved on to the wet ones. "Can you crack the eggs into that bowl? Just be careful, Kats," you cautioned with a smile. "We don't want any shell in the batter."

He snorted, "I know what I'm doing, nerd." Despite his sarcastic remark, he cracked the eggs skillfully, not spilling a drop.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course you do," you conceded, reaching over to gently brush a stray strand of blond hair away from his forehead.

The brief touch sent a jolt of warmth through him, and he let out a quiet "tsk."

With both mixtures ready, you slowly incorporated the wet ingredients into the dry, Bakugo watching intently, his gaze never leaving the bowl. You picked up the electric mixer and began to blend the ingredients together, the soft whirring sound filling the kitchen.

Bakugo watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as he admired your skillful movements. "You're really good at this, Y/N," he admitted grudgingly, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.

You grinned, feeling a surge of pride at his compliment. "Well, I've had a bit of practice," you replied modestly. "But it's even better when I have such a talented assistant."

His cheeks flushed slightly at your praise, a rare display of vulnerability from the fiery young man. "Yeah, whatever, nerd, just don't get used to it," he muttered, though his eyes betrayed the warmth he felt.

As you continued to mix the batter, Bakugo moved on to preparing the cake pans, carefully greasing them with butter and flour. His strong hands were steady, his movements precise, a testament to his unwavering determination and focus.

"Alright, I think we're ready to pour the batter," you announced, switching off the mixer and lifting the bowl. The batter seemed smooth and creamy, the perfect consistency.

Bakugo nodded, setting the prepared cake pans on the counter. Together, you carefully poured the batter into the pans, the rich, creamy mixture filling them to the brim. The sight of it was mesmerizing, a perfect blend of colors and textures that promised a delicious end result.

Once the cakes were done, you set them aside to cool, turning to Bakugo with a smile. "Thank you for helping me, Katsuki. It means a lot."

He shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, sure. It wasn't that bad, I guess. What's this cake for, anyway?"

You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before deciding to keep the secret a little longer. "It's just a surprise for someone so dear to me," you replied coyly.

Later that evening, Bakugo sat on the couch, flipping through channels while you disappeared into the bedroom. You returned a few minutes later, holding a beautifully frosted cake, the words 'Happy Birthday' written in elegant script across the top.

Bakugo's eyes widened, his gaze darting from the cake to you. "Is this…?"

You nodded, setting the cake down on the coffee table. "Happy birthday, Katsuki, my love."

His usual confident demeanor faltered for a moment, replaced by genuine surprise. "You did all this for me? I thought you forgot about… This stupid occassion."

You sat beside him, taking his hand in yours. "How could I? I just wanted to do something special for my lovely boyfriend, and I know you have a sweet tooth."

A soft smile spread across his sightly chapped lips, his crimson eyes softer than you'd ever seen them. "Thank you, Y/N," he murmured, getting up and pulling you into a gentle hug, finished with a soft kiss placed to your lips.

As you both pulled away, Bakugo looked down at the cake, a genuine smile gracing his features. "The cake is fucking beautiful. I guess this means I owe you one, huh?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "You being happy is payment enough, Kats."

Soon, you carefully placed a few candles on top, lighting them with a match. "Make a wish," you whispered.

Bakugo took a moment, closing his eyes before blowing out the candles. As he opened them, he looked up at you, his expression one of pure happiness. "I love you, babe," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

And as you both enjoyed the cake, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little slice of happiness.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stolen Goods 3

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. Lloyd Hansen, petite!pregnant reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You hit the back of the trunk with your fist, the tires put to the limit as the man drives without caution. He's honked several times and screeched to many jarring halts. You're trapped in more than just that compartment, bouncing around with the groceries, you're enshrined in a fervour of fear and despair. 

Why is this happening to you? Who is this man? What is he going to do to you? 

Well, what has he already done? 

“Please, sir, I won't tell anyone,” you beg through the back seat, "please. Just take me back--" 

"Do you like classic rock? Jazz?" He asks as the car swerves and he switches lanes. Holy shoot, is he on the highway?  

"What? Please, I promise--" 

"You're distracting me, sweet stuff, you're gonna get us both pancaked by a sixteen-wheeler," he clucks, "just calm down and enjoy the music." 

He flips on the stereo and the local pop station plays. He hums along for a moment, "Ariana, nice." He turns up the familiar top ten and you whimper. 

This is surreal. You really can't believe it. It all happened so quickly. The way he touched you, the way you just stood there and let it happen, then how he just locked you in here! Who does that? Who lets someone do that? Who doesn't raise her voice and tell him to stop? Or ignore him and get in the car and drive away? 

You. You're stupid. You should have been patient and waited for Jake. You should have done so much differently.  

Your tears spring as easily as ever. Your hormones have you always ready to overflow and now seems as suiting as that cat food commercial. You crumble completely, giving up on begging, and bawl. You're going to die, your baby too. 

Maybe that's your fault too. You were so scared when you saw the positive. When you realised the condom broke. There was that split second you wished it wasn't true. When you hoped that it might undo itself. Then you wanted it. You still do. Your baby. Things aren't perfect but you can make them better. 

You jostle with the paper bags, wallowing in your resignation and dread. Time throttles you until it feels like the whole world is on your chest. You hug your belly and apologise to your child. You're supposed to take care of them. 

When the car stops, the sudden dearth of sound slaps you in the face. You sniffle and listen with breath bated. The driver's side opens and dips. He stands and his footfalls stride undaunted towards the trunk. 

You brace yourself. You can't give up yet. The lock clicks and the lid lifts. You push it up before he can open it all the way but he has his hand on your neck before you can leap out. 

"Oh, baby cakes," he squeezes and you cough, "you don't think I'm that stupid, do you?" 

The dimming sky shrouds his figure and he puts cold metal to your cheek, "you don't wanna get yourself hurt. Or the kid, huh?" He presses the metal barrel firmly to your temple, "I don't wanna hurt you either but you gotta give a little." 

"S-sorry," you choke out and latch onto his thick wrist, teetering on your knees as the rest against the edge of the trunk, "I---I--" 

"I know, baby. You're scared. Change is terrifying but I heard you talking to the deadbeat," he pulls the gun away and holsters it. He eases you forward and helps you put your feet to the ground. He keeps a strong hold on you, "you can do better." He smirks, "hi, I'm better, but you can call me Lloyd." 

You gape at him. Is that a joke? 

“And you are...” he enunciates your name. “Sorry about your purse, I tossed it some ditch, but I got the important shit out of it.” 

“Huh?” You blink at him dumbly. 

“Phone’s wiped too. So, I’ll probably just break that down for parts--” 

“Wait, what? Why—please, why are you doing this?” 

“I’m not too sure myself, shortcake, but we’ll figure it out.”  

He slips his hand down to your wrist and pulls you away from the car. He shuts the trunk and the noise echoes off the high ceiling. You look up at the interior of the garage. Several cars are parked in the space. What kind of place is this? 

“Come on, you don’t wanna hang out in here,” he snorts and tugs you to follow him. 

All you can do is let him guide you. You keep your free hand on your stomach as your eyes burn. You can’t give up. You have to keep going for your baby. 

He takes you up a short set of steps and into a house just as colossal as the garage. He looks down at your feet as you stand on the mat. He tuts. Your slides were lost somewhere in your struggle. Your feet are cold and dirty. 

“Hm, well... what now?” He asks. 

“What now?” You squeak. “What do you--” 

“Look, honey buns, I’m not asking you,” he turns and keeps his hand around your wrist, walking you forward as if you’re on a leash. 

You’re confused. What does he mean? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing. What kind of man just does this spontaneously? 

“Erm, Lloyd,” you say softly, “it’s... not too late to take me back.” 

“Ah, but you’re wrong, sweet stuff. It’s way too late,” he snickers. “I scrubbed the traffic cams and the surveillance at the grocery store. It’s all gone. You’re gone.” He stops you in a bright foyer and faces you, “I don’t give my toys back.” 

[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from men? How are you not advocating a belief in male socialization which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic knots that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

[throughparisallthroughrome]

R U Mine?

Summary: Anakin has an on-again-off-again, friends-with-benefits type fling with the reader, who won’t commit to him because he’s in the order. She becomes resentful of that fact and eventually starts to make him jealous. anakin loses it

Wordcount: 6.1k

CW: Smut, oral sex (male receiving), cheating but not really, Anakin and reader both being toxic, cursing, drinking, not that proofread

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to finish! I wanted it to be exactly how I pictured the song. I've also had COVID and just returned to college (taking 6 classes is insane). So, wish me luck! Lemme know if you want to be added to any taglists. As always, criticism is welcome and so is my ask box <3

masterlist.

Frustrated wasn’t the right word for what Anakin was feeling. Exasperated, maybe. Pissed? Oh abso-fucking-lutely.

The relationship Anakin had with you was… complicated to say the least. Far more than he wanted to admit- and far more than he ever liked. You swore up and down that you wanted him one day, and wouldn’t even look his direction the next. You’d get on your knees, begging for him, needing him to fuck you relentlessly; But tomorrow? Tomorrow you didn’t know his name. It suddenly became foreign to your tongue, perhaps just to spite him. That part he wasn’t entirely sure of. How could someone like you treat him like that? Lead him on just to break him the next day?

He just didn’t fucking get you. You were smart, funny, incredibly sexy, and an overall good person (when you weren’t pretending he didn’t exist). You claimed the hearts of many when you walked into a room, and the people you surrounded yourself with stay enamored, never straying too far away from your spell.

Things were far more uncomplicated at the beginning of your complicated relationship (if you could even call it that). Anakin never felt this anxiety- this fear. He wouldn’t ball his fists as he watched you flirt with another man. He wouldn’t hold his breath every time he saw you. He wouldn’t feel himself tense up after he’d cum, knowing where you would go. Of course, the more he got in trouble, the more he needed you. And that’s how he landed into the worst problem of them all.

You represented the Jedi as a lawyer, and Anakin found himself in your office from time to time. Platonically, of course. A few republic and Jedi issues on different missions brought him to you quite a few times. Whether it was for simple legal advice or he actually needed help, you were the first person he went to.

At first, he didn’t notice you much. You rarely made eye contact and stayed professional, asking a few questions occasionally as he shared parts of his missions that the council was concerned about possibly welcoming issues. The line of legality during a war can be very, very thin.

“Skywalker,” He snapped his head up, meeting your face as a grin broke out on your lips.

“I-I’m here.” He shifted up in his seat, glancing around the room for a moment before realizing he totally spaced out.

“You’re not yourself today,” You stand up from behind your desk, gracefully walking over and sitting in the seat next to him, holding his arm gently as you cocked your head and smiled.

“Wanna talk about it?”

The interaction was simple- effective. He was done for- instantly gone. He felt as if you flipped a switch in your personality just with your gaze in that very moment. You went from a peer to the most incredible thing he was blessed to lay eyes on. You were suddenly magnetic, and Anakin couldn’t fucking resist.

He opened up to you, feeling much better about it afterwards, and you told him he could come back and see you anytime he’d like- as a friend. And of course, Anakin could never resist your temptation. He came after every mission, looking forward to sitting in your office and just looking in your eyes as you intently listen. Feeling your eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his pupils. Watching as your hand snakes up and fixes the collar of your shirt, bringing his attention to your cleavage. He watched as you bit your lip intensely, breaking through your painted shiny lips into a little bit of blood.

And you knew you had him wrapped around your fucking finger.

Eventually, he asked for your contact information, “As friends,” he would say, knowing damn well it was never and would never be platonic. You talked a lot, exchanging various texts and phone calls, leading him on for weeks. He spent every waking moment thinking about you. The second you invited him out away from the Temple, another switch was flipped. Anakin’s fucking common sense.

The moment he took you home from the bar, your lips were on his feverishly, pulling him into your touch, grinding your hips against his groin. Again, he couldn’t resist. You were all he could fucking think about and here you were, practically begging for him with your tongue down his throat. He fucked you that night- the beginning of something beautiful, and fucking dangerous.

This, of course, went on for months. Those late nights, some drinks, his cock buried deep inside of you as you screamed out his name so loud you hardly had a voice the next day. You know it was wrong- he was bound by the code and you weren’t- you were taking advantage of that, advantage of him. But it felt so fucking good. And neither of you wanted to stop

Of course, neither of you expected to fall in love.

You felt something in the way he was gentle with you, the way he would brush your hair behind your cheek. The way he’d kiss your forehead while making love fucking, telling you how good you feel, how much he loved fucking you. And there was that word again. You began opening up to him, actually wanting to have a friendship aside from the casual fucking. The fucking needed the ‘casual’ part. For a while, it was straight fucking. But you still rejected him, seeing similar feelings bubble up in his eyes.

But Anakin knew he was in love a lot longer before you did. He knew it was wrong, but it only made him want you more. He knew it was bad, and he couldn’t help but be more enticed by the idea of it. The idea of you. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning, pulling you into his arms as he looked into your big doe eyes and kisses your soft lips. He wanted to come home to you, wanted to see your face light up as he swings open the front door. He wanted you to be his and only his. But he just couldn’t resist fucking you, either.

And yet you left him lonely and confused every time.

There were 3 instances he could remember where he knew you were driving him crazy- in all of the right ways. Whether it was your perfect tight pussy, those gorgeous round tits or the way you looked into his eyes, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes. You always got what you wanted from him- you were taking full advantage of the Jedi and he didn’t care.

He remembers a particularly awful mission, the separatists unexpectedly advanced on him and his battalion before they had the chance to escape. There were multiple casualties and the information ended up being lost, as well as all leads they had. It was a dead end- and Anakin was sick of dead ends.

He texted you a few times, feeling particularly annoyed by the ‘delivered’ that flashed on his phone as you never responded. He tried calling, only for it to go straight to voicemail. You were ignoring him? And for what?

He threw his phone down on his bed, leaning against his headboard and putting his face in his palms as he groaned loudly in annoyance from your rejection. He made you cum 8 times last night and you couldn’t text or call him back?

He bit his lip in frustration, thinking back onto the fond memories with you from the night before. He just needed some reassurance, after all, you two were friends, right..? He didn’t like his hesitation when he thought that. Were you really friends? Or was all of that confiding just to get into his pants knowing damn well it was against every moral he was supposed to have as a Jedi.

He abruptly stands up, realizing that maybe a night to himself would probably be better anyways. He needs a fucking drink- and he knows exactly where to go.

To say that he wasn’t going to Mazzy’s because that was where you two went for the first time and he liked the memory would be a lie. To say he wasn’t going to Mazzy’s in case he would run into you? Well, that was an even bigger fucking lie. And did he run into you…

He recalls sitting at the end of the bar, ordering a scotch from the pretty bartender and watching as she bent over to grab the bottle, showing off her tits as she gave him a wink. He nodded in response, giving a tight lipped smile while paying no mind to her advances. He grabs the scotch slightly aggressively off the bar, taking a large swig as he turns his attention away from the bartender to do a little people watching.

He skims the crowd, noticing quite a few familiar faces. For Coruscant, that was surprising. But this bar definitely had it’s regulars. He turns his attention back to the bar, watching the way the light bounced off of the multicolored glasses on the shelves as he traced his finger against the rim of his glass. And there it was. That fucking laugh.

He whipped his head so fucking fast to the location of the sound that the bartender could have sworn it almost fell off. And there you were… in all of your glory… cheating on him?

He recognized the dress, the long slit up your thigh leaving quite little to the imagination. You were practically sitting on this mans lap, laughing at his jokes and tracing his collarbone with your painted fingertip. He noticed the stain on the mans cheek, none other than your signature color. And it was extremely hard to look away from the dark spots littering your neck- the same place he left his hickeys before. He knew you had lovers before- but not like this.

His hand was clenched around his glass, his knuckles turning white as the glass threatened to break under his grip. He didn’t realize at what point he stood up and started walking over, but it had to be right after you began to aggressively make out with the stranger. He had seen enough.

“What the fuck is this?” He seethes, you pull away, slightly shocked but a smirk still trained on your painted lips.

“Ani- what are you doing here! Such a sight for poor eyes!” You cheer, throwing your arm with your cosmopolitan around the man’s neck you were with.

The mans eyes darkened and so did yours. You were clearly wasted, and Anakin felt his heart pound in his chest. You were in no position to consent to anything, much less be taken home by this man. He didn’t trust the scene that was being laid out in front of him.

He quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you off the man and spilling your drink on his chest. You yelped in surprise at his actions, but your cry quickly turned into giggles as you were amused by how irritated Anakin was. He was infuriated with you. You were being such a brat.

He opens the door to the bar and pulls you around the corner and down the alley.

“So aggressive.” You mumble and he huffs.

“What the fuck was that? What about us? How long have you been fucking around on me?”His hands pin you down against the rough bricks, his words loud and angry.

His brow twitches slightly as he waits for your response. Your mouth tugs into a smirk as you trace his collarbone through his shirt and let out a gentle laugh.

“I never said we were exclusive, Anakin.”

And there it was.

“I- oh,” His face drops at the sight of your smirk, along with his heart. “I understand,”

“Don’t worry, Ani,” You bite your lip and bring your hand to his cheek while he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, “You mean more to me than any lousy fuck I have.”

His eyes shot open to meet yours as your smile grew. He was so fucking enamored with you that he didn’t mind the manipulation your words were laced with.

You leaned further into him and kissed his cheek, letting your hands roam on his body. He groaned slightly as your hands cupped him right where he needed you. You let your lips trail down his neck, hearing a couple soft groans leaving his lips. You pulled away lowered your voice to a whisper, he shivered as he felt your hot breath on his ear.

“It was nice to see you, Ani,” You pulled away and stumbled around the corner and back into the bar.

Anakin was speechless. He was sure his jaw dropped through the ground beneath him. He didn’t know what to do- or how to even move. And as much as it pained him to leave- his drink unfinished and his tab not paid- he fucking bolted back to the temple. There was no way he was walking back in there to see you again.

Weeks later, he did his best to put you out of his mind. He knew if he started letting his mind wander, it’d go right to you and your hold on him. His feelings- his cock. But then it’d wander back to seeing you kiss another man- another man’s marks littering your neck. He couldn’t bear the thought of either. Not right now.

It was hard to do anything around the temple- he’d search every corner for you. He thanked the maker the days he would get assigned missions and get out of there. Of course, since that night, they fell very few and far between.

And of course, Anakin always did catch glimpses of you in the Temple. He’d see you in your perfect little pantsuits with your clipboard talking to some other Jedi. If he was lucky, you’d have those slutty little glasses on. His pants would instantly tighten. It had been weeks since you slept together, and he couldn’t bare the idea of his hand, knowing exactly where his thoughts would wander. Every time you caught him staring- he was gone in an instant.

The second instance happened after another rough mission- but still a success nonetheless. After arriving back to the Temple, spending some time at the med bay, briefing the council, and filling out far too much paperwork, his communicator went off at his desk.

“Skywalker, speaking,” He grunted, flipping a few pages around as he scanned over his words in his mission report.

“Oh you sound particularly delightful today, Anakin,” He rolled his eyes at the sound of his old master, the sarcasm dripping off of his voice.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Obi-Wan?” He smirked to himself, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair.

“I’m afraid the Council has requested us to speak with Miss L/N about this mission,” Anakin instantly froze, his smile dropping, “I’m not exactly sure about the reasoning- but apparently she personally requested us. She had an interest in some parts of this mission,”

“Of fucking course,” Anakin grumbled, picking his pen up with the force and twirling it in the air as his scowl deepened.

“What was that?” Anakin froze, realizing who he was talking to.

“Nothing, Master. Will be there soon,” He quickly ended the call, leaning back in his chair and groaning as he thought about the mission. His pants had instantly tightened upon hearing your last name, and there was no time to wait for that to disappear.

He sulked and walked as slowly as he could on his way to your office, turning the familiar corners with a bad taste in his mouth. He heard your laugh from down the hall and felt his shoulders and cock stiffen.

He pushed open the door with the force, being met with you and Obi-Wan as you sat and discussed something, both of your faces beat red from laughing.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan manages to breathe out, “Nice of you to show up,”

Anakin ignores his remark, sitting down on the sofa next to him and darkening his gaze towards you as his eyes trail down your body. The pantsuit you had on today was a deep red and tighter fitting than you normally wore. The shirt you had on underneath was skin tight, showing off your cleavage and the texture of the bra underneath. Anakin swore if he had looked longer he could see the lace of your bra peaking out, your nipples hardening underneath it.

He took a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the tightness in his pants really start to get him as his eyes trailed back up to the smirk that painted your lips.

“So, why are we here?” He sneered as you raised a brow, your smile growing from his annoyance. Obi-Wan nudged his leg slightly, throwing him a glare. His expression didn’t waver.

“Sassy today, I see,” You giggled to yourself, watching his eyes grow darker, the bulge in his pants growing as well, “Just came to hear a few things about the mission-“

“Like what?” He interrupted, leaning back into his seat and huffing to himself in annoyance.

“Well, Skywalker, maybe if you let me finish I could tell you.” His gaze never faltered, so you let your smile drop. You sat up straighter and became suddenly much more professional.

“Just need to know the details, Anakin. Obi Wan already told me most of it-“

“Then why am I needed?” He crossed his arms and Obi-Wan turned to look at him.

“Well, Anakin, maybe if you let our friend explain, we could talk-“ Anakin scoffs loudly at Obi-Wan, and you feel the heat rise within you.

“Okay, fine. Fucking talk. Ask. Whatever.” He furrows his brows as he watches you cross your legs and cough slightly, your tits bouncing purely for his pleasure.

“As I was saying, just needed to make sure we don’t need to worry about any legal repercussions with Hynestia Prime. You have a tendency of getting in trouble in that area, Skywalker. You can’t blame me for wanting to check- especially with a monarchy as prominent as their’s.” You clicked your pen, bringing it to your lips and gently biting it as you waited for a response from Anakin.

“I’m sure Obi-Wan mentioned it was a fairly standard in and out mission-“

“No interruptions? No casualties?” You interrupted, leaning forward slightly and meeting his fairly irritated gaze.

“If you’d let me finish-“

“Skywalker, you interrupted first.” You leaned back in your chair, unclicking your pen and writing something down, avoiding his eyes, “Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve paid me a visit, anyways.”

Obi-Wan raises a brow and Anakin coughs awkwardly as you smirk at his reaction. He glared at you before clearing his throat once again.

“Hasn’t- uh- Hasn’t been necessary. Been on my best behavior.” He stuttered out, avoiding Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Uh huh,” You smile to yourself, clicking your pen and standing up, bending over to grab something off the floor, “Well, I’ll have paperwork sent to your quarters. I hope your writing matches your words, Skywalker.”

You walk over to Obi-Wan, shaking his hand and telling him how nice it was to see him. You avoided Anakin’s gaze, but you could feel it burning on your skin as he never wavered from his position next to Kenobi.

“It’s been lovely, Y/N. Anakin, I’ll catch up with you later,” Anakin nods in response, not meeting his eyes as he keeps them fixed upon you. The second the door is latched shut, he’s immediately in your face.

“What the fuck is your problem today? Saying that in front Obi-Wan? Risking my position as a Jedi?” You smiled under him, squeezing your thighs shut as he yelled in your face, “I mean- you are fucking unbelievable! Fucking ridiculous.” He turns away from you and begins pacing your office, rubbing his temple in annoyance.

You keep your mouth shut, your smile growing wider and the wetness growing in your panties as you watch the vein in his neck pop from anger. You walk up to him and push him on the sofa, getting on your knees in the process.

“What the fuck are you doing.” He seethes, watching you unbutton his pants.

“You’re so pent up darling,” You lick your lips as you palm him through his robes lightly, “When was the last time you gave yourself any satisfaction?”

“Y/N, please don’t-“ He’s cut off by his own groans at the feeling of you pulling out his dripping cock.

“Don’t what, baby?” You look up at him with your big doe eyes, batting your eyelashes as he groans one more time, pre cum practically pouring out of him and on your hand. “You don’t want me to take care of you?” You lift your hand up and lick the pre cum off slowly, never breaking eye contact as his breath hitches.

“I- Fuck- Ah- I don’t remember what I was saying,” You smirk at his words, gently jerking him off as you watch his eyes practically roll.

“That’s what I thought.”

You shove his cock down your throat brutally, instantly letting it hit the back. Anakin jumps slightly, letting out a loud moan at the feeling of you deepthroating him so quickly. You bob up and down, the tears flowing freely as you squeeze him in between your fingers. You could practically cum yourself with the noises he’s making.

“Y/N- Y/N- oh my fucking-“ He cuts himself off with another loud moan, feeling you milk his cock dry with your mouth. He didn’t even have to fuck your throat. You were doing it for him.

You kept going, feeling his cock spaz in your throat. He was close- very close. His moans grew louder, more raspy and whiny as you throat fucked him.

“Y/N- I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum- Ah-“ And with that, you shoved his cock all the way down your throat, licking the bottom of his shaft and giving his balls a gentle squeeze.

He loudly moans as his cock spazzes in your mouth, painting your throat white with his cum. You keep sucking and licking through his orgasm, feeling him squirm under your touch. There was more cum in your mouth than you have ever felt in your life.

You sit back, letting his cock flop back onto his lap. You open your mouth, letting the cum drip out and onto your tits as he watched with his mouth slightly agape, moaning at the sight.

“Y/N…” He whispers, watching you swallow his seed as he cups your face in his hand.

You stand up and grab a tissue for him, letting him clean up while you press a few kisses to his temple. He looks up at you and kisses you passionately, pulling away and smiling at you.

Interrupting your moment, the phone rings. You smirk at him one more time before getting back onto your feet, letting out a gentle groan as you make your way to your desk. Anakin’s eyes never leave your figure, watching your every move as his cock prepares for round two.

“Hey baby,” You answer the phone and Anakin instantly tenses, “No, I’m at work. Just been busy.” You turn to face Anakin and he’s already gone.

As much as you hate to say it, your heart ached a little at his absence.

The third and final instance Anakin would have never expected in a thousand years. But there you were.

He woke abruptly, not by a nightmare (at least yet), but to the sound of harsh knocks on his door.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes for a moment, the knocks unrelentless. Throwing the covers to the side, he stood up and put a robe and pants on, growing increasingly annoyed with whatever visitor thought it to be best to wake him up like this.

He aggressively throws open the door and his heart drops at the sight of you. Holy fuck- you were gorgeous. He felt his jaw drop slightly at you and the smirk spread on your face. He noticed a particular blush to your cheeks and he realized he could smell the liquor pouring off of you. Fuck.

“Baby,” You pushed him inside his quarters, your heels clanking against the ground as you kicked the door shut behind you, “Need you so bad,” You dropped your coat, revealing your lingerie underneath and he bit his lip.

“Y/N, what are you-“ Anakin’s cut off abruptly by your painted lips meeting his, and he stumbled back as your hand meets his cock. He groans into your mouth as you smile, deepening the kiss.

“Fuck-“ He finds himself moaning under your touch, unable to resist you as you let the lust take over.

Suddenly, his eyes widen and he pushes you off of him, catching his breath. You smirk at him, walking closer to kiss him once again only to be met with his hand on your chest, gently pushing you away from him once again.

“You’re drunk,” He breathes out, and you laugh.

“And? So what? I want you,” You whine, walking closer only to be met with his hand once again. “What’s your fucking problem?”

He scoffs at you, taking another step back away from you. “Y/N, you can’t just show up here fucking drunk and naked. What if someone saw you? What if-“

“For fucks sake will you just shut up and fuck me?” Again, you were met with resistance, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“No, I’m not having sex with you. You’re being a brat. And you’re fucking drunk. I don’t want this.” He attempts to say calmly and you scoff at him.

“And you’re being a fucking dick.”

“I’m being a fucking dick?” He comes closer now, putting his finger on your chest accusingly, “You can’t keep your fucking legs shut! And to think that I thought we had something- meanwhile you’re calling every fucking man on Coruscant ‘baby’ while I go off to war thinking of you! Thinking that maybe- just maybe- you were thinking of me too! And fuck, was I so fucking wrong-”

“Shut the fuck up! You just want my pussy!” You stumble back away from him, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“That’s the fucking thing! I wish I did! But I don’t! I actually fucking like you. Like- a lot. And you’re so goddamn frustrating!” Anakin yells loudly, watching as you continue to pull away from him during his confession.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just saying-“ As you tried to continue, you were cut off by the sounds of your own screams, tripping over your coat and cutting yourself on a piece of metal on the floor.

“Shit- Y/N, come here baby.” Anakin immediately rushes to your aid, wincing slightly at your bloody knees on the ground below him.

“Ah fuck- Ani- It hurts,” You whine as he bites his lip at your tears, trying to figure out the best course of action.

“Here,” He puts his arms under your legs, pulling you into his chest as he picks you up and sets you on his bed. You wet his chest with your tears, emotions spilling over from the cuts and the fight. “Hold tight, sweetheart. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

He gets on his knees in front of you, wiping a tear from your eyes as he watches you concerned. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before getting up and hastily rushing to his bathroom. He throws open the cabinet, searching for first aid supplies as he hears your whines grow louder from the pain. The cuts were pretty deep and he cursed himself for leaving out a project so haphazardly on the floor.

“Give my hair a tug if it gets to be too much, yeah?” He gets on his knees in front of you as you give him a rushed nod. You giggle slightly at his request but the second the alcohol meets your bloody knees, your hands are in his hair and you let out a little yelp.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. I know it hurts- I’m so sorry. This will be better soon- I promise.” He mumbles to you as you continue to cry under his touch, waiting for the pain to end.

By the time he bandages you fully and gets some water in you, you’ve sobered up enough to realize your mistake. You had fallen way too hard for the Jedi in front of you- literally. And with your bloodied knees, it felt like the galaxy was telling you that.

He stands up and moves to the bathroom, putting his supplies away and washing his hands while you stand and grab your coat.

“I- Um- I’m sorry,” He pauses washing his hands, letting the water run over them as he slowly looks up at you. He can feel something’s wrong. He quickly dries them and makes his way over to you hesitantly.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something else happen?” He tentatively puts his hand on your arm, his breath hitching as you move away from his touch.

“Yes- sorry- just made a mistake. Thank you for taking care of me. It was nice to see you.” You avoid his concerned gaze, holding your coat to your chest tightly as you make your way to the door.

“Y/N- Wait!” He grabs your arm once again, and you feel yourself wince at his touch, tears bubbling to your eyes that you didn’t know existed. “I don’t understand- what happened?”

“Ani- I just,” you take a deep breath, squeezing your hands into fists. Finally turning to face him, you whisper, “I-I I just can’t do this anymore.”

His face instantly drops at the sight of you. You were so raw and emotional suddenly, the alcohol leaving a nasty taste in your mouth and bringing out a new side to you. One he was unfamiliar with. Before he could respond, you had shed a tear and left his quarters, leaving him hurt and confused once again.

This was different, it felt different- he could recognize that. The way you left made him nauseous. The things you said. He couldn’t help but stand there stunned, unable to move for quite some time until he realized just what happened. You ended things with him. He was more confused than ever.

In the passing weeks, as much as Anakin wanted to respect your boundaries and your wishes- he felt it to be nearly impossible. He took on more responsibilities as a Jedi, increasing his efforts in the war and politically. He did everything he could to stay away from you and get you off of his mind.

He became more closed off, distracting himself from any pain he felt possible. The people around him noticed, offering help and guidance when they could. His own padawan and old master poked and prodded about him relentlessly, but he never gave in to their concern.

Occasionally, he’d catch glimpses of you throughout the temple, and instead of his cock hardening at the sight of you like it once did, his heart only hurt. Your smile made him nauseous, your laugh a knife twisting inside of him. As much as he cared for you, he hated the idea of you doing well. Moving on without him.

And there he was, doing exactly what you did to him…

He knocked harshly, enough that if he ran away at this point it’d be fucking embarrassing. He forced himself to do this- at least he was sober when you weren’t. And he wasn’t exactly here for sex, but if it happened, well… he always heard breakup sex was nice. If he could even call this a ‘breakup’.

Anakin felt himself start to sweat a little. He didn’t know what to expect from this. What to expect from you. You were always different, always surprising him. Even when he thought he knew you- or loved you- there was always something knew that attempted to change that.

But Anakin knew deep down how hard he had fallen for you. And just how impossible it would be to change that. And while he was already sweating from nerves, it quickly turned into anger. He loved you. Loved. And yet you continued to walk all over him and his emotions? What the fuck? Has he not shown you just how devoted he was to you? Why were you so-

“Anakin,” His eyes instantly met your tired ones, darkened with a certain rage you couldn’t quite make out. “What are you doing here?”

He was silent. The scary kind of Anakin silent that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed it. And man, you felt it. His eyes trailed up your body, the silky lace nightgown you wore suddenly felt more revealing than it did a few minutes prior. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from his silence, your fingers fidgeting with your nightgown as you unconsciously straightened your posture a bit.

“Anakin, what are you- Hey!” He suddenly welcomed himself in your apartment, pushing through you and into your living room. You slam the door behind you, turning and facing the angry man behind you.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You sigh, attempting to stay calm as you watched the taller man in front of you unravel.

“Why? Is there someone else here?” He seethes, stepping closer to you.

“No! And even if there was- that’s none of your fucking business, Anakin. We aren’t fucking together. You are just a good fuck and that is all.” You step closer, your words twisting like knives but he never backs down. His finger meets your chest accusingly, his lips upturning into a smirk.

“Y/N, we both know that’s not it.” You shudder under his gaze, turning away from him to conceal your emotions.

“Anakin- we can’t.” You state plainly, and for once he can’t read you.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because we can’t!” You turn around and scream, “Because you’re a fucking JEDI and it’s against everything we stand for! And you’re the fucking chosen one! I’m not doing this. As much as I’d like to and as much as I fucking resent all of that- it doesn’t make the reality we are in any less of a problem.”

“I’d leave it all for you.”

“No you fucking won’t!” You give him a shove, “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“I’m so fucking frustrating? That’s fucking rich.” He grabs your arm, forcing you to face him, “Do you know how fucking bad it hurts to watch you with other men? How hard it is to hear you call them baby? And you think that isn’t fucking frustrating? All I wanna fucking hear you say is that you’re mine. I just want you to be mine!”

“ANAKIN PLEASE!” You crumble beneath him, “It’s not like I fucking enjoy it! I spend my nights wishing it was you! It-It’s just all a fucking distraction! Because I want you so fucking bad and I can’t have you.” Your voice cracks slightly and his gaze softens upon seeing your teary eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Anakin, please stop,” You fall to your knees, feeling your heart ache at his confession, “Please- we can’t do this.”

“Baby,” He sits down next you softly, holding you in his arms, “I will do everything I can to make this possible. We can keep it a secret for now and after the war? Who knows what’s possible.” You glance up at him, eyes glossy and lip quivering.

“I-I don’t know.” You whisper, avoiding his eyes, “I’ve spent so long pushing this down. Feeling resentment towards you and your status and the fact that we could never make this work. I spent so much time having really awful sex just to try and take my mind off of you.”

“Did it work?” He whispers back, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“No,” You hiccup, a blush spreading to your cheeks, “I kept accidentally moaning your name.” You both giggle and he pulls you into his arms.

“That’s my girl.”

He pulls you in once more, letting your tears dry as you both take in the comfortable silence surrounding you. You can feel his heartbeat slow, the tension leaving his muscles as he holds you close. He was finally relaxed, and so were you.

“Y/N, can I call you mine?” He whispers against your neck, and you can feel his nerves return.

“You got me, baby, I’m yours.”

[simpjaes]

Ok whod fuck hard and rough out of jealousy? Like thatd be one of the indication that he was jealous, that he fucked you as if it was his last day on earth.

MTL: hyung line + most likely to hate fuck you out of jealousy

most:

jay: the type to get jealous over the smallest things, like he will find a reason to be jealous solely as a form of reassurance that you're his and you always want to be his. and you guys know me, i see jay as a switch, so it's more likely than not that he would be incredibly overpowering, painful, and dominating towards you if you were to do something that makes him reaaaallly jealous. like if it's something he isn't making up, and his friend really did hit on you, and you really did flirt back. i'm just saying, at that point his only reassurance would be to hear you moan his name, and let him do whatever he pleases as your apology to him.

sunghoon: gets jealous easily and overthinks a lot of things that really only need like, a two second sit down to explain away. he's really blatant with it too, like hella passive aggressive and cold especially when he fucks the truth out of you. and sure, the truth is something that calms him and puts that jealousy to rest but man, he always comes the hardest, always fills you the fullest, when he thinks he's losing you and desperately trying to keep you. also the type to probably start swinging at his buddies if they mention you.

jake: mean when he's jealous but hides it pretty well from everyone that isn't you. all he has to do is smile, all he has to do is laugh, all he has to do is put up a front while also gripping your arm far too tight to mean he's okay. plus, that smile of his can get eerie fast, to the point that you see it and know someone was looking at you in a way only he should be able to. would fuck you til you pass out probably, solely because he hates that other people look at you and want you. like you don't even do anything to make him think you'd leave, but he feels better releasing his rage through burying himself deep inside of you, boosting his ego back up when he reminds himself that you'd only let him fuck you til you can't stand.

heeseung: doesn't get jealous super often but you see a switch flip in his head when it does happen. man handling gets more painful, his words are meaner, he makes terrifying promises, and would probably make you apologize for making him jealous. because honestly, when he is jealous, it's with good reason and you should apologize to him. the type to breed the fuck out of you when you do it too, saying shit like "no one else would want you if you let me fuck my babies into you like this anyway." and "you're only doing this to get the reminder of who you belong to, right?" anything to make himself feel better lol

least:

[ninyard]

Heyy! You said someone should ask you about Kevin under this post about Kevin's struggles from the nest of which we don't know enough... So I'm asking you about Kevin! Please tell us your Kevin thoughts! You always make very good points and I like reading your thoughts!!

cody my friend I am so glad you asked but you might regret it. i hope you're prepared from an unorganised huge convoluted MESS of a ramble

i've been thinking for a few days about this one like... what would a kevin POV look like? what is he hiding? how does he cope? WHO IS HE?

the kevin we ""know"" is a "coward", an insufferable bitch, an asshole and a hardass. other people's opinions and view of him makes up the entirety of our impression of who he is. but that's not who he is. that's just who we're supposed to believe he is.

kevin, born and bred to have this... borderline psychopathic lack of empathy, who can look his teammates in the eye after being told seth is dead or andrew is being committed and say, "what about the game?"

but when the raven's are switching districts; his sense of danger and fear is paralysing. he's three steps ahead trying to figure out how to please riko, how to keep himself safe, willing to put himself back into the centre of his abuse just to stop riko from finding him and killing him. he has to get blackout drunk to deal with any amount of riko. he's frozen with fear by being in the same room as him.

kevin knows where jean's mind and body goes to when hes panicking, knowing his worst place is right back in the nest being drowned by riko. kevin telling neil "do you know what he'll do to you?" and "he'll break you" when neil asks for his ticket. kevin's text to him before he goes into the nest, and staring at neil like he'd seen a ghost when neil returns after the nest (when he looks like the butcher). his comforting "i know what he's like" or "i know how he sees you, i know it means he did not hold back,".

kevin nervous breakdown panic attack day vs kevin smile for the cameras one track exy mind day

im so intrigued by him. how does he cope? his mother is dead, probably killed by the mafia family he was raised by. he grew up into a cult, he was only a child watching neil's father cut a man into pieces in front of him. how many other's had he seen?

how many other injuries cover his body, in places where the cameras can't see? how many rapes and assaults was he forced to watch in the nest? how many beatings was he forced to participate in? what did he have to say to jean in french that he didn't want riko to hear?

he needs someone with him all the time because of the nest. he's a "health freak" because of the nest. his sleep schedule, his anger, his anxiety.

did he say "what about the season?" re: andrew after drake because he doesn't care, or did he think "i've seen this happen too many times. and they've always kept playing,"? did he think "andrew is the strongest person i know. andrew is stronger than me. he would never let this destroy him," knowing that it has?

nobody has protected him in his life apart from the cameras and andrew.

he's scared. he doesn't know what love is supposed to look like.

he's only been a human for a year.

his scars are healing for the first time in his life and they're not being replaced by new ones, but every day he's afraid that that's going to get ripped out from underneath him. his entire life already got flipped upside down when he left the nest. of course exy is the only thing he "cares" about.

because it's the only thing that's been certain in his life, and even for those few weeks or months where he thought he would never play again, he trained and trained, and learned how to use his non-dominant hand because he can't lose this. he can't lose exy like he's lost everything else.

kevin has never had anything stable in his life except for violence and exy. now he has people he's supposed to care about, and he has to change his priorities. he has to learn how live a life that isn't fueled by self-preservation for the first time ever.

jean was only in the nest for five years; and look at him. look at what the nest has done to his social skills, his view of himself, his self esteem. look at what it's done to him, how he expects violence and contrition, coach and always waiting and waiting and waiting for the punishment to come.

kevin might not have had the same level of physical abuse that jean had, but he was there far longer. the ravens existed before him; their mindset and their abuse and their violence and their poison.

he's been drinking the raven poison since his childhood. the only difference between him and jean other than those things above is that kevin had more pressure to hide it, because he was half of the face of the ravens, half of the face of Exy; media trained or PR trained or a master at being a fraud and faking the way he speaks when he's being recorded.

kevin knows how to hide his abuse because he has always had to, and he's had quite a lot of practice at it.

kevin has only been a human for a year. kevin has only been kevin for a year.

so who is he? does he even know?

or is he just Kevin Day, Raven Fox starting striker, number two, six foot two, left handed right handed left handed, heavy racquet, stick size five? is that all he will ever see himself as?

anyways. or something like that. maybe he is just an insufferable bitch for no reason at all. who knows!

[safe-by-dawn]

Hi! I loved the Toby headcanons you wrote! Can we please get a yandere nsfw Ticci Toby x reader?

~Possession~

Yandere!Ticci Toby/Toby Rogers x SlightlyDeranged!Reader (Smut)

Requests are currently open!

MDNI!

My first request! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun writing them and I can't wait to get some time to write for some more Pastas! I got some good ideas up my sleeve.

Also I made the reader super into the fact that Toby fucks up anybody that even gets near his s/o, so if you were thinking of a more innocent/scared reader just send me another ask but but honestly anybody that gets with Toby better be into that because he's gonna burn cities for his s/o.

I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I did writing it!

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Murder, Public Sex.

Let me know if I should add anything to the warnings! I try my best to add what I think is necessary but sometimes I can't tell when something should be included.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His hand was on your thigh, squeezing the flesh there and it was enough to make your heart drop for the poor man that had taken up residence next to you at the bar. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. He didn’t know that the small touch that still lingered on your thigh would be his one way ticket to an early demise.

He didn’t know that the other man beside you practically owned you at this point, and he surely didn’t know that you took some sick, demented enjoyment out of watching the way he gets when he’s jealous. It’s lethal.

“Won’t you come home with me, darling?” The words are slurred, barely even there when he leans towards your ear.

You can practically feel Toby stiffen beside you, radiating anger in such a way that it seeps into your clothes and fuses into your bones leaving a sweet, delicious ache in the pit of your stomach. He’s a good fuck normally, but the switch that flips when he gets jealous is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“I suggest you take your hand off me,” Your eyes finally meet his, a coy smile playing at your lips, “If you want to make it through the night, that is.”

Your hand moves to push the man’s off your thigh, but he keeps your flesh in a vice-grip as he speaks, “Feisty, I love that in a woman.”

You can’t help the small giggle that pulls its way out of your throat as you feel Toby finally move. You don’t know how he’s held back for this long. You know the jealousy is burning in him, and his eyes are on the two of you. You don’t even have to look over at him to know it. Toby’s own hand finally shoots out and in one swift motion, grabs the man's fingers and twists, pushing them towards him and you hear the sickly snap before you see the way his fingers are now bent, definitely broken.

He might have a chance if he stops now, but now you have anger on both sides of you, and you just know it won’t end here. You know Toby has no reason to hold back, and he won’t. He doesn’t know how. Not anymore.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” The man pushes out of his seat, moving towards the man that just snapped his fingers.

The bar stool scratches heavily against the wood floor as Toby finally stands, gripping onto the man's collar and practically dragging him out of the dingy dive bar. They’re out of the door before you can even stand, and you take a moment to fish an almost empty pack of cigarettes out of your pocket, pulling one out and lighting it before reaching for the money you kept in the back pocket of your jeans.

It’s at least a hundred but you don’t count it before throwing it down. Call it payment for damages for when someone finally finds that sour fucker’s body the next morning.

You pull a drag from your cigarette as you move to get up, your own bar stool screeching into the air and you finally allow yourself to look to the only duo that rests in the corner of the bar and giving them a small smile. Their eyes pull quickly away from yours and you finally make your way outside into the just as disgusting night air that surrounds the establishment.

You can hear him before you see him. The labored grunts of him most likely already crushing the man’s head in is just around the corner, leading into the dark alleyway, and the fact that you can only hear Toby is a sure sign that he’s almost done with the man. His life’s probably gone, but Toby has so much anger stored in his body from that interaction that he might be there for a moment before he feels like he’s finally finished with him.

The scene you walk into is much worse than you expected, and some part of you is glad that it’s dark. The wall behind them is a disgusting inky color that you can only guess is blood. Some broken bones, arms contorted in a way that makes your stomach turn, even after getting comfortable with seeing what kind of aftermath Toby can leave behind, it’s a little bit much.

Toby has his hands splayed onto the brick of the wall, holding himself stable as his foot sinks another kick into the limp leftovers of the man on the ground. Once you finally make it closer to him you can hear him whispering, voice coming out in a low growl that sets your skin on fire.

Mine, she’s mine.

You let your hands rest on his back, pushing to wrap around him, hands coming to rest just under his shirt on his bare stomach. You let your thumbs toy at the waistband before gripping onto it, and it usually serves to pull Toby back to the real world. Tugging him out of his thoughts proves to be a little harder tonight, but his hand comes to rest on one of yours before he lets the man have one more kick before pushing himself off of the wall and turning his face towards you.

It’s splattered with dark red, and if you hadn’t known him, you would think it was his own, but you know the man doesn’t have a single scratch on him. You pull your hand from his waistband to tug the cigarette out of your mouth after taking a long draw, moving it to Toby’s mouth and pressing the butt of it to his lips. He pulls his own draw off of it before you toss it to the ground, not worrying about stomping it out. You wouldn’t have time even if you had wanted to.

Toby’s lips crash hard against your own after he exhales the smoke, and you drink him in like you’ve been thirsting your whole life and he’s the water you’ve fought so hard to finally reach. Your teeth hit his in the mess of a kiss, and you’re sure he’s drawn blood when he finally bites at your bottom lip.

“You’re fucking mine.” His voice comes out with a growl of arousal and over-exhaustion, and it only serves to push you closer to the brink and his hands aren’t even on you yet. His usual stutter is nowhere to be found, lost in the clouded haze of anger and post-murder. His mind’s only on one thing and it’s you. All of it is you.

“All yours.”

You can barely get the words out before he’s pushing and pulling, pressing your back hard against the other side of the alleyway and his mouth finds its way to your throat. He bites hard, no doubt leaving a bruise already forming. You can feel him all around you, hands all over your body, pulling at your clothes and undoing the button on your jeans. He pushes them down quickly, and the way the night air presses heavily into your form is the only thing to remind you that you’re still outside.

Anybody could see you, anybody could see what he’s done, and anybody can see the mess he’s about to make of you. It sends a delicious chill up your spine. His lips press against yours once more before he’s pulling away and pressing your face into the brick of the building, no doubt scratching you up a bit, but it’s worth it. It’ll all be worth it as long as he takes you right here. You’re far enough in the dark that as long as nobody follows the sounds pouring from your mouth then you’ll be just fine.

His mouth lands on your shoulder and even through the fabric, the weight of his bite tears a shriek out of you. “Keep making those sounds for me.” His voice filters into your ears, and you can’t help but push back into him. The thin fabric of your panties does little to keep the denim of his jeans from rubbing you deliciously, and you can feel every inch of him through his jeans. You’re practically drooling at this point and he knows it.

“You’re fucking sick, y’know that?” He speaks before he presses a smaller bite into your earlobe and his hand finally pulls your panties down to meet where your jeans rest at the bottom of your thighs. “You do this on purpose, don’t you?” His scarred fingers finally press against your slit, pushing just enough to feel how wet you are, but not giving you what you wanted just yet.

You can only nod, words not able to form in the knot he has tied in your throat.

“You get off on me killing for you,” He laughs then, absolutely deranged, exactly how you like him. “You’re- You’re just like me.”

His fingers finally circle your clit, pulling some of the pent-up arousal out of you in the form of a moan and the words finally slip out of you, “Jus’ like you, Toby, Fuck.” You huff as his fingers work you, pulling you closer to your edge and you can feel him trying to undo his pants with one hand and your mouth waters at the thought of him finally filling you up.

“You love me?” He asks, he always asks and you always answer.

“Only you, Toby.”

He leaves another bite on your shoulder as he pulls himself out of his pants, resting against your ass and never slowing his hand on your cunt as he says his next words, “Then cum for me, baby.” It comes out as a whine, begging, delicious, and twisting your insides.

It pushes you so close, almost to the edge. As he finally slips into you, you tumble, falling over the edge as his hips finally snap into you. He fucks you through it, as words fall out of your mouth in an incoherent mess and you can only hear him chuckle behind you. You can only feel his hands on you as he finally pulls off of your sensitive clit to grip heavily onto your hips. All you can do is brace yourself as he fucks into you, chasing his own high.

His grunts fill the Alley, and the way he growls sets you on fire as your body tries to come down from its high. He doesn’t let it though, cock pressing hard into your sweet spot with each thrust. His hips hit against you with a bruising weight as he fills you to the brim with every bit of him, every inch stretches you out deliciously. You can feel it coming again, can feel the tight coil in your abdomen get worse with every thrust.

He finally snaps his hips and keeps them pressed against you and him cumming inside of you pulls you over the edge for a second time like a noose tied around a rock and your neck and he just threw it into the ocean.

You both come undone and your cunt milks him for everything he’s worth. His growls fill the air around you as he ruts against you, thrusting another time before he pulls out of you. Your mixed fluids leak out the smallest bit before he’s pulling your clothes up and buttoning your jeans for you. He lands a light smack to your ass before he’s finally fixing himself and his hand finds purchase in your hair to finally pull you off the wall and into him.

His thumb presses heavily into your cheek, smearing the blood from the scratches the dirty brick gave you before he presses it into his tongue. He’s fucking deranged, but you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t admit you were just as fucked up as he was.

[cottoncandyswisherz]

bae i luh you

peaches asked, so i delivered because who am i to say no to a god?

bf!chris x gf!reader

warnings: fluff, HATING ASS HOE, suggestive, swearing,

-

the bass was BOOMING in the tara's living room. today was nicks second space camp drop and ms. yummy insisted on celebrating with a party because of course.

as y/n stepped into the house she was assaulted by the smell of alcohol and sweat.

someone needed a fucking speedstick because DAMN!

anyway, she was brought out of her thoughts by her boyfriends arm being snaked around her waist as she walked. 

"you alright chris?" she asked.

"yeah im good. im just not trynna get fucked up tonight, so you gotta stay close." he reassured her.

"i wasn't leaving your side anyway." she said, grabbing his hand and making her way to their crew. "SUP SLUTS?" she shouted and everybody cheered. 

and the night went on just like that. 

taking a shot for solidarity, partying with their friends, and losing themselves in the night. everyone danced and enjoyed each othe

r. chris and y/n particularly enjoyed each other. 

suddenly y/n's new favorite song came on. as soon as she heard that "i say HOOOOO BABBYYYYY" a switch flipped. 

the moment was no longer about enjoying the feeling of chris being semi-hard on her ass. it was about letting the whole house know that he was hers.

and wreck-it ralph himself couldn't break that. 

so she did what any self-respecting woman would do. she began screaming the lyrics to him while moving her body and making heart hands. 

bae i love you you my everything im yo main bitch fuck a wedding ring

chris just laughed and began singing along with her, pulling her body to his, so their noses were touching. 

in this moment, y/n realized how much she loved chris. what she'd do for him. she'd keep every secret. she'd lie for him. she'd kill for him. she'd die for him. she'd live for him. 

did it scare her? fuck yes. 

she was supposed to be a pimp, not a lover girl. and she only knew this man for a year. but if president sexyy can be tied down than so can she.

i only knew him for a week but i swear thats my boo i might let the nigga trap me bitch my summer through but dont give a fuck do anythang for you

the couple was in la la land (ryan gosling hit me up!) as they danced and laughed and loved up on each other. 

to the untrained eye, it was disgusting. but to their friends, it was the moment they'd all been waiting for.

matt smiled with pride at the side of chris being with who he really wanted to be with, rather than who he think people want him to be with.

nick was shocked at chris being so openly in a relationship after physically cringing at the mere thought of sharing a scooter with a girl, but happy for him nonetheless.

tara was damn near in tears, seeing y/n being her true soft self.

jake was wishing he had someone he could be gross and cute with.

tril (who introduced the pair) was just glad chris was finally getting non-toxic pussy and y/n was getting the dick she deserved.

but of course the moment had to be ruined. 

there's always a bitch ass bitch trying to  kill the vibe. 

or should i say, a bitch ass bum.

as soon as the couple saw who'd been standing there staring at them like monkeys in a zoo, they made eye contact and simultaneously busted out laughing.

"what do you want bruh?" chis asked, sighing in an attempt to control his giggling.

"you're fucking with her after we just broke up two weeks ago?" she nudged her head in y/n's direction, which only changed her mood from wildly entertained to mildy irritated. 

"i'm not just 'fucking with' her." chris responded bluntly. "she's my girlfriend. my girl. friend." chris made sure to enunciate his words because he knew this girl was a little slow. "something you would have had to been for us to 'break up'. which we never did. because we never dated." he pulled y/n into his side and made sure she was good before he looked back at his old talking stage.

y/n was more than good. her pussy flooded when chris called her his girlfriend. 

nigga we go together tell them hoes we go together

"but-"

 this bitch still fucking here?

"but nothing hoe." y/n butt in, deciding to handle this situation herself. she stepped to the girl and looked her good in the eyes, to make sure she felt every word. "he just told you he has a girlfriend so get the fuck on and find something safe to do."

the girl cowered and walked away without another peep. leaving chris and y/n to embrace each other with passion and love and lust and all the other good feelings.

it was official. everyone knew they were together. 

everyone knew that they were each others. 

what more could a retired pimp ask for?

niyah speaks luh part two to feed yall for the week

taglist: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @mattssluttygf @zniyadgaf

remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and by mommy i mean me)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Paying for it doesn't make it a market

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Anyone who says "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product" has been suckered in by Big Tech, whose cargo-cult version of markets and the discipline they impose on companies.

Here's the way that story goes: companies that fear losing your business will treat you better, because treating you worse will cost them money. Since ad-supported media gets paid by advertisers, they are fine with abusing you to make advertisers happy, because the advertiser is the customer, and you are the product.

This represents a profound misunderstanding of how even capitalism's champions describe its workings. The purported virtue of capitalism is that it transforms the capitalist's greed into something of broad public value, by appealing to the capitalist's fear. A successful capitalist isn't merely someone figures out how to please their customers – they're also someone who figures out how to please their suppliers.

That's why tech platforms were – until recently – very good to (some of) their workforce. Technical labor was scarce and so platforms built whimsical "campuses" for tech workers, with amenities ranging from stock options to gourmet cafeterias to egg-freezing services for those workers planning to stay at their desks through their fertile years. Those workers weren't the "customer" – but they were treated better than any advertiser or user.

But when it came to easily replaced labor – testers, cleaning crew, the staff in those fancy cafeterias – the situation was much worse. Those workers were hired through cut-out shell companies, denied benefits, even made to enter via separate entrances on shifts that were scheduled to minimize the chance that they would ever interact with one of the highly paid tech workers at the firm.

Likewise, advertisers may be the tech companies' "customers" but that doesn't mean the platforms treat them well. Advertisers get ripped off just like the rest of us. The platforms gouge them on price, lie to them about advertising reach, and collude with one another to fix prices and defraud advertisers:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

Now, it's true that the advertisers used to get a good deal from the platforms, and that it came at the expense of the users. Facebook lured in users by falsely promising never to spy on them. Then, once the users were locked in, Facebook flipped a switch, started spying on users from asshole to appetite, and then offered rock-bottom-priced, fine-grained, highly reliable ad-targeting to advertisers:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

But once those advertisers were locked in, Facebook turned on them, too. Of course they did. The point of monopoly power isn't just getting too big to fail and too big to jail – it's getting too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

This is the thing that "if you're not paying for the product, you're the product" fails to comprehend. "If you're not paying for the product" is grounded in a cartoonish vision of markets in which "the customer is king" and successful businesses are those who cater to their customers – even at the expense of their workers and suppliers – will succeed.

In this frame, the advertiser is the platforms' customer, the customer is king, the platform inflicts unlimited harm upon all other stakeholders in service to those advertisers, the advertisers are so pleased with this white-glove service that they willingly pay a handsome premium to use the platform, and so the platform grows unimaginably wealthy.

But of course, if the platforms inflict unlimited harms upon their users, those users will depart, and then no amount of obsequious catering to advertisers will convince them to spend money on ads that no one sees. In the cargo-cult conception of platform capitalism, the platforms are able to solve this problem by "hacking our dopamine loops" – depriving us of our free will with "addictive" technologies that keep us locked to their platforms even when they grow so terrible that we all hate using them.

This means that we can divide the platform economy into "capitalists" who sell you things, and "surveillance capitalists" who use surveillance data to control your mind, then sell your compulsive use of their products to their cherished customers, the advertisers.

Surveillance capitalists like Google are thus said to have only been shamming when they offered us a high-quality product. That was just a means to an end: the good service Google offered in its golden age was just bait to trick us into handing over enough surveillance data that they could tune their mind-control technology, strip us of our free will, and then sell us to their beloved advertisers, for whom nothing is too good.

Meanwhile, the traditional capitalists – the companies that sell you things – are the good capitalists. Apple and Microsoft are disciplined by market dynamics. They won't spy on you because you're their customer, and so they have to keep you happy.

All this leads to an inexorable conclusion: unless we pay for things with money, we are doomed. Any attempt to pay with attention will end in a free-for-all where the platforms use their Big Data mind-control rays to drain us of all our attention. It is only when we pay with money that we can dicker over price and arrive at a fair and freely chosen offer.

This theory is great for tech companies: it elevates giving them money to a democracy-preserving virtue. It reframes handing your cash over to a multi-trillion dollar tech monopolist as good civics. It's easy to see why those tech giants would like that story, but boy, are you a sap if you buy it.

Because all capitalists are surveillance capitalists…when they can get away with it. Sure, Apple blocked Facebook from spying on Ios users…and then started illegally, secretly spying on those users and lying about it, in order to target ads to those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

And Microsoft spies on every Office 365 user and rats them out to their bosses ("Marge, this analytics dashboard says you're the division's eleventh-worst speller and twelfth-worst typist. Shape up or ship out!"). But the joke's on your boss: Microsoft also spies on your whole company and sells the data about it to your competitors:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/25/the-peoples-amazon/#clippys-revengel

The platforms screw anyone they can. Sure, they lured in advertisers with good treatment, but once those advertisers were locked in, they fucked them over just as surely as they fucked over their users.

The surveillance capitalism hypothesis depends on the existence of a hypothetical – and wildly improbably – Big Data mind-control technology that keeps users locked to platforms even when the platform decays. Mind-control rays are an extraordinary claim supported by the thinnest of evidence (marketing materials from the companies as they seek to justify charging a premium to advertisers, combined with the self-serving humblebrags of millionaire Prodigal Tech Bros who claim to have awakened to the evil of using their dopamine-hacking sorcerous powers on behalf of their billionaire employers).

There is a much simpler explanation for why users stay on platforms even as they decline in quality: they are enmeshed in a social service that encompasses their friends, loved ones, customers, and communities. Even if everyone in this sprawling set of interlocking communities agrees that the platform is terrible, they will struggle to agree on what to do about it: where to go next and when to leave. This is the economists' "collective action problem" – a phenomenon with a much better evidentiary basis than the hypothetical, far-fetched "dopamine loop" theory.

To understand whom a platform treats well and whom it abuses, look not to who pays it and who doesn't. Instead, ask yourself: who has the platform managed to lock in? The more any stakeholder to a platform stands to lose by leaving, the worse the platform can treat them without risking their departure. Thus the beneficent face that tech companies turn to their most cherished tech workers, and the hierarchy of progressively more-abusive conditions for other workers – worse treatment for those whose work-visas are tied to their employment, and the very worst treatment for contractors testing the code, writing the documentation, labelling the data or cleaning the toilets.

If you care about how people are treated by platforms, you can't just tell them to pay for services instead of using ad-supported media. The most important factor in getting decent treatment out of a tech company isn't whether you pay with cash instead of attention – it's whether you're locked in, and thus a flight risk whom the platform must cater to.

It's perfectly possible for market dynamics to play out in a system in which we pay with our attention by watching ads. More than 50% of all web users have installed an ad-blocker, the largest boycott in the history of civilization:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

Ad-supported companies make an offer: How about in exchange for looking at this content, you let us spy on you in ways that would make Orwell blush and then cram a torrent of targeted ads into your eyeballs?" Ad-blockers let you make a counter-offer: "How about 'nah'?"

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

But ad-blocking is only possible on an open platform. A closed, locked-down platform that is illegal to modify isn't a walled garden, a fortress that keeps out the bad guys – it's a walled prison that locks you in, a prisoner of the worst impulses of the tech giant that built it. Apple can defend you from other companies' spying ways, but when Apple decides to spy on you, it's a felony to jailbreak your Iphone and block Apple's surveillance:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

I am no true believer in markets – but the people who say that paying for products will "align incentives" and make tech better claim to believe in the power of markets to make everyone better off. But real markets aren't just places where companies sell things – they're also places where companies buy things. Monopolies short-circuit the power of customer choice to force companies to do better. But monopsonies – markets dominated by powerful buyers – are just as poisonous to the claimed benefits of markets.

Even if you are "the product" – that is, even if you're selling your attention to a platform to package up and sell to an advertiser – that in no way precludes your getting decent treatment from the platform. A world where we can avail ourselves of blockers, where interoperablity eases our exodus from abusive platforms, where privacy law sets a floor below which we cannot bargain is a world where it doesn't matter if you're "the product" or "the customer" – you can still get a square deal.

The platforms used to treat us well and now treat us badly. That's not because they were setting a patient trap, luring us in with good treatment in the expectation of locking us in and turning on us. Tech bosses do not have the executive function to lie in wait for years and years.

Rather, as tech platforms eliminated competition, captured their regulators and expanded their IP rights so that interoperability was no longer a threat, they became too big to care whether any of their stakeholders were happy. First they came for the users, sure, but then they turned on the publishers, the advertisers, and finally, even their once-pampered tech workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

MLK said that "the law can't make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me." It's impossible to get tech bosses to believe you deserve care and decency, but you can stop them from abusing you. The way to do that is by making them fear you – by abolishing the laws that create lock-in, by legally enshrining a right to privacy, by protecting competition.

It's not by giving them money. Paying for a service does not make a company fear you, and anyone who thinks they can buy a platform's loyalty by paying for a service is a simp. A corporation is an immortal, transhuman colony organism that uses us as inconvenient gut-flora: no matter how much you love it, it will never love you back. It can't experience love – only fear.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/22/kargo-kult-kaptialism/#dont-buy-it

[luvyeni]

i recently found your blog & love your works. could i request a changbin x reader, where reader is oblivious to someone flirting with her & binnie gets jealous.

LOCK YOU UP; SEO CHANGBIN

pairings. boyfriend!changbin x fem!reader

wc. 578

warnings. unprotected sex, breeding kink, doggystyle

authors note. you didn't specify if you wanted smut , so i just assumed.

i hope you like it !

changbin sometimes wishes he could just lock you up in the house to avoid situations like this.

—

changbin couldn't be mad at you , you truly were a treasure ... but lord , you couldn't read the signs for the life of you.

the guy was clearly trying to flirt with you , offering to buy you a drink , changbin could see it in his eyes , the way he looked at you , changbin wanted to clear this entire club out and teach this man some manners.

"can i buy you another drink ?"

changbin had enough, walking up behind you. you turned around , with that cute smile , completely unaware that changbin was about to punch the dude in front of you both.

" baby , no more drinks , you know you can't handle too much alcohol." he took the drink out of the guys hand , drinking it , his face shifting into disgust.

"baby you don't need to drink this type of alcohol anyway , it's cheep. if you try to impress someone at least buy them a good glass of alcohol." he glared at the guy , only to switch to a deceitful smile when you turned to him.

"i..it was nice to meet you." you boy got the hint very quickly, scurrying off. "why'd he leave so soon? he said he was was for someone?" he scoffed.

"what?"

"he was talking about you , he was waiting for you to give him your number , baby he was flirting with you." your mouth hung open.

"oh , i didn't even know." he rolled his eyes. "you never do , baby that's the point , you never notice when they flirt with you. " he pouted.

"binnie don't be jealous , i didn't know, besides he wasn't that cute , and i have you." you stood up , kissing his pouted lips.

"i just wished sometimes i could lock you in the house so we can avoid situations like this." he dipped down , kissing your shoulder blade , smirking when you let out a little gasp.

—

"oh fuck! binnie , please." that's how you ended up ass , face smushed against the pillows as your boyfriend plowed his hard cock into you.

"look at you princess , so cute like this , all braindead , nothing left in that head of yours." his hips snapped against yours.

"such a pretty girl , it makes binnie mad when other guys flirt with you." he got closer to your ear. "i..im sorry , i.. i didn't know- fuck!" he gave you one thrust that made you scream in pleasure. "i didn't know i swear !"

"i know baby , my cute dumb baby , it's okay , i believe you." his soft tone did not match the way he fucked into your messy cunt for the third time that night.

"i'm gonna make sure everyone knows you're mine , fucking make you take my loads in your pretty pussy." his lewd words and tone had you clenched around him hard.

"oh fuck! — baby you're clenching down hard on me , do you like that? want me to breed you , treat you like my personal cumdump."

you were a mess , only able to babble a mixture of please's and his name. "baby i asked you a question." he grabbed your face. "y...yes."

he pulled out , smirking when you whined at the loss of feeling full. "if i'm gonna fuck you full of my cum , baby im gonna do it the right way." he flipped you onto your back, his hard cock pressed against your puffy cunt. "take my cock." he slid back into you , you sighed , feeling full again.

"that's it , take my cum like a good girl."

©️LUVYENI

[linos-luna]

Hi gorgeous 💞

I hope you're doing well (I was worried af)

If it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so can you write a yandere hyunjin x f reader smut where the reader who is already held hostage is given a gift by hyunjin (just surprise me with your writing girl)?

I would seriously appreciate it from my heart ❤️

Wanna see a manipulative, toxic and delusional hyunjin in love with me 😩

Bye 👋

Sorry it’s late! I’ve been so busy! 😭

Happy late birthday 🎊

———————————————————

Work of Art 🔪

Yandere!Hyunjin x Reader

Warnings: Yandere!, 18+, slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Slapping, Hair pulling, Emotional manipulation

—————————————— 💞

It’s been two months. Two months since you lost your freedom. Hyunjin was obsessed. He wants you to keep you in his home forever. If he goes out, he handcuffed you to the bed frame. Although lately he hasn’t done that. Probably because now you don’t move. You seemed to have given up on trying.

The days blended together so you didn’t even realize that today was your birthday. You stayed in bed until noon, only waking when some light from the window hit your face. You sat up, only to see Hyunjin standing at the door. Watching.

“Good morning, my love.” He said with a soft smile. “Today is a special day!”

“What….?” You mumbled.

“How could you forget?! It’s your birthday, silly!” He chuckled while going to you and leaning in to kiss you.

You were silent, actually surprised that you forgot your own birthday.

The man stroked your hair as he waited for your kiss although you didn’t budge. This seemed to frustrate him and he pulled your hair so your lips touch his. “Y/n!” He whined.

Reluctantly, you kiss him. He bit your lip and kissed you with lots of passion.

Sure you kissed back but not with as much vigor as him. This only hurts his heart.

“Y/n! I don’t understand…” he whined. “why…? Why won’t you love me like I love you!”

“Hyunjin, you kidnapped me!”

“Because I love you!”

“This isn’t love!!” You interrupted. “This… this is hell!”

“No no no… i-I’m sorry! It shouldn’t be!” Hyunjin frowned and dropped to his knees while holding your hand. “I only wanted to show you love and cherish you. I want to spoil you!”

“Hyunjin—”

“I’m sorry, y/n…” He pouts, giving you sad eyes, “I-i never meant to hurt you…”

“Hyunjin… you—!”

“No no I'm awful!” He interrupted while starting to cry. “I-I just want someone to love… I-I’ve never had someone love and care like you do. You’re so genuine and kind…”

He continued rambling. From his rough upbringing to his desire for love. He’s all alone in this world and it had your heart breaking for him.

“I-I have a gift for you…” he said softly. “Please. I worked so hard on it.”

“O-okay…” you nodded reluctantly.

Joy lit up his face and he quickly left the room. As soon as he left, the tears were gone. It was as if he flipped off the emotion like a light switch. Instead, he smiled to himself.

Hyunjin came back in the bedroom with a canvas. You were a bit confused until he turned it around. It was you. A painted picture of you sleeping. The style made you look angelic.

It was beautiful but also unnerving. When did he paint this? Was he watching you while sleeping? Every minuet detail of your features was there. Every mole and blemish was painted in great detail.

“Wow, Hyunjin… it’s very nice.” You said slowly while studying it. You couldn’t lie, it really was an amazing painting.

“Oh, my love. I’m glad you love it!” He smiled. “I worked so hard to capture your essence! You truly are a work of art!”

You couldn’t help blushing. You’ve never had a compliment like that and it was giving you butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you, Hyunjin… I-I really do love it…”

“Oh good!” He was excited as he leaned in close. “Please, my love. May I kiss you?”

There was a moment of silence before you nod.

———— 💞

Dinner was a bit awkward. You sat in silence as he fed you.

“Do you like it?” He said suddenly.

“I do but… Hyunjin I can feed myself.”

“No darling. Don’t worry about that.” He said while putting more meat on the fork.

“No really—…” you grab the fork from him, about to raise it to your mouth before he suddenly slapped it away.

“Hyunjin—!”

Before you could finish, there was a swift slap to your face.

“No! Only I can feed you!” Hyunjin yelled suddenly.

You held your cheek in shock, too stunned to speak.

“Oh I’m so sorry!! My love, I'm sorry!!” He suddenly switched up and got to his knees, dropping the bowl of food to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care.

“No! Don’t cry! Don’t be mad!” He begged while grabbing into each side of your hair and pulling you close. “Please forgive me! I love you!”

“A-agh! Hyunjin!” You whimpered as he tugged harder.

“My darling. My sweet girl, please!”

He pulled harder, making you drop from your seat to the floor.

“J-Jinnie! You’re hurting me!!”

“W-what?!” He paused, still holding onto your hair. “No! No im not!!”

“Jinnie stop!”

“No you stop!” He yelled. “I love you! I’m just trying to love you!!” His voice broke as tears formed and it made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hyunjin…”

“No! You don’t love me!” He sobbed. “I-I thought I finally found my soulmate… one that will love me as much as I love her!” Hyunjin wiped some tears while looking at you. “I-I’ve never had that kind of love. My M-mother left! A-And father would beat me! I-I only wish you give the love I never received!”

Whether this story was true or not -it’s not-, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But his vulnerability and tears tugged at your heartstrings.

“Hyunjin….”

“No! Just go!” He cried. “Just leave me! Leave me all alone! I’m used to it!” He pulled some keys from his pocket and threw them in front of you.

You were frozen in place. You felt awful. Pure guilt. How could you hurt him like this?? All he wanted was love. You felt like a monster.

Without much thinking, you hugged him tight. “I-I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin leaned into your hug, making himself look as small and vulnerable as possible while continuing to weep.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” you whispered while rubbing his back.

“C-can I… can I give you a bath?” He asked softly. “I-I wanted to spoil you with a little… at home spa…”

You pulled away and looked at him. Here he was crying and expressing his deepest emotions and traumas, and yet he was still thinking of you. He was still wanting to spoil and shower you with love.

You only nodded and Hyunjin smiles before kissing your forehead and leaving to the restroom, getting some of the soaps and candles ready.

It made you feel guilty. Perhaps you have this all wrong. He really does have a good heart. Perhaps you’ve never experienced real love. Maybe… this is what true love is.

Hyunjin had no more tears. This face had cleared up so fast as soon as he entered the restroom. In fact he had a smile. A satisfied one, like a spoiled child that got his way. It was just too easy.

Hyunjin walked to the bedroom, grabbing a robe for you, stopping by the painting. He took a deep breath while running his fingers along your painted nude body.

He turned back to the restroom, mustering up some tears red cheeks before calling out to you.

"Come on, my love! The bath is ready!'

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not helping my family pay for hospital bills?

🎷🔥 so i can find it later

This is going to need a lot of context right off the bat. I (20'sM) am a gay man that comes from an extremely conservative family. My sister (20'sF) is also a lesbian and recently got married and adopted a child. I'm very proud of her, but that's not the issue.

My parents seem to have little to no issue with my sister marrying a woman. They do have a very big issue with me liking dudes, however. Like, it was the reason my parents got divorced "big issue." I'm not gonna go into everything, but my sister ended up with my dad and I stayed with my mom for reasons I'd rather not share.

Our last parting was on... less than decent terms. Upon finding out that I was of the homosexual variety, my dad flipped his lid. He called me several slurs and said some other very hurtful things, and even made moves to physically attack me. My mom, also a very homophobic woman, stepped in and thankfully talked him down. Then divorce, etc etc.

I saved up enough money to move out when I turned 18 and may have done some impulsive things including completely trashing my mom's bathroom, which I know I'm definitely the asshole for, but in my defense my mom kept "forgetting" to pick up my prescriptions and I was manic (I have bipolar). But, again, I know I'm the AH for that.

I now live with my two best friends R (20sNB) and P (20sM) in a house we all pay for. R comes from money so they help out a lot, and I love them both to death. We kind of have a sort of situationship but none of us are poly? Idk it's weird we're just going with it rn.

Anyway, I bring them up bc we all went to my sister's wedding together, and my parents separately chewed me out for bringing them (and for R daring to wear a dress. They're amab for context) and I obviously argued back bc hey they're my best friends and my sister specifically said it was okay for me to bring them (she and R are also friends and they wouldve been invited regardless of me bringing P) and also because R looks very good in a dress and i can handle them shit-talking me but i will not tolerate slander towards R or P.

At the wedding, I went full no contact with them and told them to lose my number. They, ofc, did Not lose my number and I got several calls from extended family saying about what you would expect them to say, so I switched numbers and gave only my sister and her wife my new number.

My sister. I love her to pieces but sometimes she gets on my nerves. She gives my number to my mom to have "just in case," but she reassures me that she won't give it to my dad or any other family. So far, she's made good on that promise, I just have to deal with periodic calls about getting a girlfriend and having kids.

Now, my dad isn't the healthiest guy out there. He has arthritis, osteoporosis, and several other things that i don't really wanna get into. As he's aged he's only gotten worse and there have been several times he's almost died, but recently he's been put on hospice and has an estimated Not Very Long to live.

Here's where I may be the AH. My dad calls me while I'm at a very important, personal event for R (he got my number from my mom) and goes on a long rant on how I'm an unlovable disgrace and how he fed me and clothed me and I could make up for all that by helping him pay off hospital debt. I say no immediately and tell him that he's never been my dad, only my dna donor, and that he's going to be dead anyway and that selling his house could cover all the bills. He calls me many more names and tells me he wishes I was never born (calling my mom some very derogatory names too (she's asian)) and that i should just go ahead and off myself to save the world someone like me. I tell him he should die faster while he's at it because God knows the world already has enough bigots in it and there could never be too many mentally ill queers.

I hung up, but now I'm thinking I went a bit too far. AITA for not helping out with his hospital bills and yelling at him?

What are these acronyms?

[imperatorrrrr]

Can you please do NICO HISCHIER SCHOLARS REPORT part 2?

I'm sorry this is so incredibly late, Anon, but let's go.

So we're going to be doing a deep dive into this Nico Hischier interview from Summer 2021. (Fair warning, these interviewers are...annoying ahahah to say the least, and sometimes do not shut up, but there are some gems from this.) I feel like I haven't seen a lot of content from this video, so I thought it might be a good one to share and also discuss...

First things first, Nico's giving this interview from Switzerland, and from the way he's positioned, I'm going to say he's giving this interview lying on his bed or something. The phone is facing up towards the ceiling and he's kind of facing the phone on top? Like I guess he could have laid the phone flat on a desk of some kind? Regardless, its an interesting choice of positioning to give an interview!

Fun Fact! This is Nico's first time meeting "Mike" and this Mike person ends up being someone that Nico stays connected with. Do you guys remember the sauna pictures and videos from this past season? That was courtesy of this very same Mike.

We all know Nico played a variety of sports growing up, but we learn here that Nico also played tennis, which I think is a new one to add to the list as well as swimming, skiing, and eventually switching to snowboarding.

Nico lived with a billet family. There's a great article that details that. Check it out here.

From youth, Nico was playing hockey with guys older than him.

"I had a really good season there" - big smile when talking about Halifax

He's still in touch with his Halifax teammates.

There's a bit in this interview, which unfortunately gets cut off due to connectivity issues, but basically Nico's asked about whether he was given a hard time by anyone bigger/older than him and I think his answer pretty much sums up the philosophy he has in the NHL now. "It never bothered me...these guys who were talking shit about me, I just didn't care, and just kept going."

"I had fun. Still now, I just have fun playing hockey and hanging out with the guys." - This quote I think is the epitome of Nico Hischier. Like, throw it back to Nico's pre-game speech before one of the playoff games "remember to have fun". That's Nico's entire hockey essence. And then throw it back to the win streak in the 22-23 season "this is the most fun playing hockey I've ever had". He just wants to hang out with his boys and have a good time.

Nico did a little bit of high school while he was in Canada.

One of the interviewers calls Nico "mister easy going, always playful". One of the times Nico met this man, he did a back flip off a bench in the gym. Like, thats Nico Hischier. He's not always mister serious, he's not always Nico Hischier Resting Face™️. He's just a silly little guy.

On Expectations: "I always try to keep that on the outside, always try to focus me on myself...I'll try my best every game, if its not enough its not enough...sacrifice myself for the team...at the end of the career, I obviously want people to say that he was a great player, but its almost like a little bit more important for me to have people say that I was a great teammate, I was a great guy to hang around with, lots of fun. This is my goal a little bit." Like how can you not love the guy?!

There's a whole bit about Nico taking a puck to the face (this was when PK Subban's shot hit Nico in the face back in the February 2021). He talks about the surgery and the actually medical procedures involved. I'm not going to get into the specifics here in case folks are squeamish, but just an FYI its in the interview. If you're not squeamish its very interesting, but trust me you want to skip that part if you are. He goes into detail.

One of the things Nico enjoys the most about playing hockey is the traveling to other cities.

What do you attribute your success to? Nico talks about his family that always supported him. Talent isn't all you need, you need to work hard as well. He talks about how he did things that maybe have been considered "weird" by his peers. When he was fourteen/fifteen he went to Pilates once a week with his sister. He was the only guy in the class. Loves to try new things. If you're not having fun then its not worth it.

Sidenote for anyone wondering about the Devils jersey hanging above Nico? Fairly certain thats a Patrik Elias jersey. If you wanna be in your feels for a bit.

"I do believe in our team. I'm just excited about what's coming up." - this was summer 2021. He has believed for a while that this team has it in them to compete truly.

Nico's inability to say the word "rivalry" will always always always make me smile.

"I want to put the team in front of me."

So during this entire interview, the two hosts are cursing throughout, and near the end Nico says "fuck" and immediately apologizes.

Nico believes he was picked as Captain for the person he is off the ice. "I'm an easy going guy. I don't really have a problem with anyone. I'm just guy you can have fun with. You can come over to my place. We can have a couple of beers, talk about anything, doesn't have to be hockey. If I see a friend is not playing his best, I'm not trying to fuck with him, I'll go talk to him. I'll try to help him."

One of the interviewers ends the interview by saying "you're a special dude"

And that's that. Tried something different with this edition of Nico Scholars, so I hope ya'll liked it.

[holybibly]

Hello~~ I've previously asked anonymously but I wanna send pics and gifs, so I'm uncovering my identity batman style to lose my mind over Seonghwa 🤭🫣

Like what?? 😭😭

This man man makes me lose my mind so bad, like every picture I see of him just flips a switch in my brain and suddenly *I'm* the rabid wolf chasing after a pretty bunny

I feel like he'd maybe try to be really dominant at first but would so easily let himself be flipped and ruined, I wanna blow this man's mind fr

This picture even has his hands in the perfect position to tie them up ahsjshshsj someone take my internet away please 😭😭

Firstly, hi baby, good to see you. Secondly, should I even mention that I have been drooling over him on a daily basis? God, I think the Ateez have ruined my mind just a little bit. Third, I'm going to go and make that damn fic with the cute hybrid Hwa. So we can all (I really hope) quench our thirst for the whining, submissive, and subservient Seonghwa. God, I fucking need this. I am needy and not ashamed.

In the meantime, I give you this. Have fun, my brave bunny.

"God, why must you be so beautiful? Is that fair?" You coo, running your thumb over the sugary brown flesh of his nipple. He twitches at the touch—too sensitive. "Too beautiful, annoying."

Seonghwa's arms are lifted and tied to the bed frame with silk ribbons, leaving him helpless and writhing as you deny him his second orgasm of the night, bringing him to the brink of pleasure before you withdraw. He lets out a soft, needy whimper as he is unable to make any other sounds.

He looks lost in his pleasure, his pupils dilating so that only a small ring of iris can be seen, his sensuous lips parted, and his chest rising and falling in small breathless sighs.

"Oh, darling, you sound so anxious. Don't you want to cum already, my beautiful boy?" Your teasing elicits another moan from Seonghwa as you delicately run your fingernail along the bulging vein on his cock. He twitches in response.

Overstimulated, Seonghwa closes his big, shining eyes and pushes his hips into your hand, hoping to feel some kind of friction. You chuckle weakly and lower yourself to kiss his beautiful, sensitive cock. As you blow on his dripping, reddened head, you hear another pitiful whimper from him.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do in the whole of the world. He melts so easily and submits to the sweet torture. It is too beautiful to ignore. You just want to eat him whole. Sue you for that.

Your soft tongue traces the same vein as your long fingernail did a few moments ago; pre-cum flows freely down his shaft, and you lap it up hungrily. Sweet. Covering his cock completely with your lips, you slowly lower your head down, a movement that you know will drive him crazy, but it's not enough to make him come. This only serves to make Seonghwa even more desperate.

"Please, I can't stand it anymore." He's got this wonderful voice; you could listen to it for hours when he's at his peak.

He lifts his hips, begging you to take him deeper into your hot, wet mouth, but instead he gets slapped lightly. Forcing him to stay still under your care, your hands rest on his hips. In an agonisingly slow motion, you slide down the length of his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone. You simply suck him into your mouth, warming him up and trying not to add any extra stimulation with your tongue.

His high is rising again. You can feel the tension in his lithe, elegant body. The sound of his lingering, unsatisfied moans is suspiciously quiet as he tries to hold himself back. Admiring his delicious, high-pitched moan of utter frustration, you remove your lips from his cock with a pop.

"My sweet, handsome boy." You're just mocking him; it's a little sadistic of you, but who allowed Seonghwa to be so handsome? All your actions are completely justified. "You've been such a good boy to me, Hwa. Are you ready for your reward?"

He nods feverishly; his long hair is spread all over the pillow, and he looks so wonderful in your eyes. You reach out and untie his hands, kissing his chest on the way and leaving a couple of hickeys.

"Seonghwa, this is your wish, isn't it? I need words, my beautiful." You whisper in his ear as you untie his numb hands.

"Yes, I do... I really want my reward." He breathes out.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me what your wish is." He's so unbelievably cute when he's winded. He pauses for a second, thinking about what he wants, and you gently rub his wrists where they were bound with the silk.

"I want you so badly, please." He pulls you by your hips so that you straddle him, gently stroking your curves with his graceful, thin palms. Seonghwa reaches up to kiss you, his plump, wet lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss before you feel his cock enter you.

You let him do whatever he wants to you, but you lean down and put your hands on his shoulders to help balance you, whispering again.

"Come on, my beauty, fuck me good."