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#cop city will never be built
houseofpurplestars · 5 months
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"Make Contractors Afraid Again:
Posted on November 15, 2023-
On the night of November 13th we set fire to 6 Ernst concrete trucks at 553 Seaboard Industrial Drive. Ernst is pouring the foundation for Cop City. This site, like so many others, is completely unguarded.
Front-pouring cement mixing trucks have large rear engine compartments which can be accessed without opening any doors. We placed incendiary devices and kindling near the engine block, the fuel tank behind it, and the double rear tires. We encourage further experimentation with incendiary placement.
There was a time when contractors were afraid to take on this project. If we can make the cost of the contract greater than the profit, they will drop it. Sneaking around at night is fun and burning shit is cool."
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hack-saw2004 · 7 hours
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ONE HOUR AGO: atlanta police department is holding a recruiting event at a marriott in brooklyn this weekend, so our comrades have showed up to disrupt the event. on top of the protests happening outside today, yesterday protesters inside the marriott pulled the fire alarms and released 300 crickets. the intersectionality of these protests is worth noting, stopping cop city and freeing palestine go hand in hand and these protesters know it. the official defend the atlanta forest/stop cop city twitter account has also very openly supported the fight for a free palestine. no one is free until we're all free!
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waitimcomingtoo · 26 days
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Just to Learn That You Never Cared
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret
requested/idea by @usoppsstar
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“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.
“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.
Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.
“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.
“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.
“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”
“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.
“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”
“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.
“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”
“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.
“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”
“Oh, I love that place.”
“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“
Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.
“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.
“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.
“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”
“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.
“I love you too.” Peter sighed.
“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.
“No.” Peter quickly lied.
“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.
The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.
“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.
“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.
“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”
“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.
“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.
“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”
“We can.” Carly mumbled.
“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.
“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”
“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”
“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.
“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”
“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.
“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.
“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.
“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.
“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.
“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“
“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”
“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.
“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.
“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.
“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“
“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.
“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”
“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.
“Huh?”
“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.
“Huh?” You said louder.
“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.
“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”
“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.
“So you didn’t know about this either?”
“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.
“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.
“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.
“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.
“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.
“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.
“What?”
“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”
“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.
“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”
“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.
“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”
“Why would we do that?”
“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”
“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”
“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.
“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.
“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.
“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.
“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.
“No.” He admitted.
The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.
“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.
“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.
“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.
“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.
“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.
“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”
“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”
“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.
“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.
“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.
“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.
“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.
You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.
“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.
“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”
“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.
“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.
“What?” You asked him.
“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.
“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.
“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.
“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.
“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”
He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.
“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.
“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.
“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”
Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.
“What?” You asked him.
“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.
“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.
“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”
“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.
“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.
“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.
“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”
“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”
“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”
You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.
“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.
“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.
“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.
“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”
“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.
“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.
“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”
You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.
That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.
“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.
“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.
“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.
“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.
“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.
“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.
“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.
“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.
“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.
“blue”
“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.
“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.
“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.
“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.
“if ur the Chase then who am I?”
“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.
“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.
“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.
“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.
“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.
“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.
“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”
“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.
“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”
“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.
“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.
“What do you mean?” He frowned.
“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.
“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.
“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.
“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.
“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.
“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.
“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.
“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.
“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.
“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.
“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.
“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.
“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”
“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.
“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.
“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.
“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”
“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.
“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.
“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”
“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.
“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.
“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”
“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.
“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.
“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.
The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.
“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.
“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”
“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”
“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.
“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”
“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”
“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”
“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.
“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.
“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.
“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“
“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.
Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.
“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.
“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.
“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.
“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.
“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.
“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.
“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.
“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.
“Like what?” Peter gulped.
“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”
“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.
“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”
“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”
“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.
“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.
“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.
“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.
“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.
“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.
“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.
“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.
“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.
“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.
“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“
“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.
“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.
“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.
“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”
“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”
“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.
“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.
“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“
“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.
“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”
Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.
“Peter-“
“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.
“What? Why not?”
“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”
“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.
“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.
“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.
“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”
“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”
“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”
“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”
“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”
“It was all I had.” You shrugged.
“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”
“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”
“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.
“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.
“Sit back down.” You told him.
“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.
“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”
“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”
“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.
“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.
“Or we could do your thing.”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
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@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
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pupcuck · 2 days
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black water - one !
ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. cop!leon, corruption, mentions of harassment/rape/drugs, body horror, raccoon city incident never happened but there r bioweapons, suicide ideation bc leon, character death, there’s smut in later chapters i promise, public sex, creampie, hate sex, slapping, choking, gore descriptions
note. hi trying something new! i know raccoon city is in the midwest somewhere but to be frank idgaf ab the usa and know nothing about any part of it so i decided that it’s a southern state in this fic bc i wanted to make reader have the cute accent bc she’s a farmer :3 only the first chapter so like um this is honestly just more of a test to see if anyone would like this erm smut comes soon prommy.. reader implied poc but like um :3 PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK N IGNORE MISTAKES!!
summary. there is something in the water, you want it gone before it eats more than just your livelihood.
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You know pigs, so you know men.
This one has blue eyes, it is the type of blue you’d dip your toes into, you let the waves lap at your calves until it drags you under. His gaze taps a gun to the back of your head and demands full attention.
He is subjecting you to himself, and you hate it.
The glint of his blue-gold badge is nebulous in the dark. “Officer Leon S. Kennedy.” He offers you a look at his ID card - has the sort of face that lets him get away with things. “Criminal Investigations Department.”
Beside him, a dog with intelligent eyes stands sentinel. Officer Kennedy drops the leash and the dog sits back on its haunches. “Now, what’s this about pigs?”
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The RPD is one great big circle jerk. Brian Iron’s doctrine is an easy one to follow, and Leon is not opposed to easy. His innards spill into the middle of it all as the lump in his throat dislodges, adding to the slurry of toxic waste that coats their blackened underbelly.
There is a horrible liminal quality to the place, footfall echoes in halls lit by jaundiced bulbs. The scent of sex is a wisp of smoke in his nose as he passes the chief’s office.
Raccoon City is a backwater bog, and to match the inhabitants are insular primitive beings who cling to antiquated ways. To be stationed here by choice was a lapse in judgement - snark is the currency of social interaction.
Leon is often taken by women.
He met this one back in Brooklyn, where he and his family lived above a Deli, an older southern lady with a gap in her teeth. Had the pleasure of crossing her path—Something about her just stuck. Led him to believe that all women round these parts had big hearts and even bigger bosoms. A place to rest his head for the night, a neck to hide his face in, blonde curls just shy of silver to tickle his skin flower-pink.
She talked all like:
Well, ain’t you just the sweetest peach I’ve ever seen! Oh, I could just eat a feller like you up, get me full as a tick.
Whatever it was that she said and meant, he liked it. And so guided by the expertise of his dick, Leon landed himself here.
There are a handful of beautiful women that Leon has seen, met, fucked.
(He weeded out the ugly ones the moment he was given access to the file room.)
The thing is, small town beautiful is different to New York pretty.
He has an ex over in Manhattan who could turn the sidewalk into a catwalk. She had Leon, a man built like a god, fumbling like a teenage girl. The last girl he fucked here was homely - she had the hushed urgency of a military wife and her monotony was sobering.
One girl he dated on and off for a year or two. She worked at a car wash and she was needy. Real needy. She missed the taste of his dick so he provided her with the scent of pussy instead. Every weekend he’d drive over and watch her clean the sex from the backseat of his cruiser just because he could.
Things are slow in this marshy cesspit, a never-ending conveyer belt of nothing much. The wind carries the scent of magnolia blossoms and sewage. It gives Leon a lot of time to think of the filth that is his underfurnished life. He lowers his head to the desk, allowing himself to fall in and out of spasms of lucidity.
Leon has done bad things, but he doesn’t qualify as a bad guy. The badge and the blue forbids it. Take Redfield for example, that guy got deployed in Penamstan. Y’know what happened there? He shot a kid or two and now he can’t get it up. He’s not a bad guy, not at all, he’s got a photo of his smiling face plastered in the lobby.
He’s a hero.
The only problem folks have with him is that heroes have nice, hard cocks and they fuck for hours. No matter his sex drive atrophied by gore splattered on the barrel of his gun, or how the studded underside of his boot caused flesh to crumple like the newspaper with his name on it—It doesn’t matter. To be built like a brick shithouse and have something soft between your legs, well, that just ain’t right, is it?
Over in Penamstan, he would say, you introduce yourself over the sound of gunfire, shake hands as the earth is split in half, kill an orphan to bond.
A good man for sure. So good his little sister went ghost.
(Leon finds her postcards in the mailroom. For Redfield’s sake, he hides them in the bottom drawer of his desk alongside all sorts of ephemera. He’s acquired quite the stash.)
Valentine is alright. She’s quiet. The moral fibre has been plucked out of her with a pair of forceps, and now she doesn’t think much about where she points her gun. They often sit in shared silence, and sometimes it is like looking in a funhouse mirror that creates a shape far slinkier than his bulk.
Chambers is too nice. Vickers is fat. Burton is old. Frost is ugly. These are all irrefutable flaws, but none of them are bad, and none of it is intentional. Not bad by Leon’s standards at least.
(The entirety of the STARS unit would be better off if they stopped kissing Captain Wesker’s flat ass, but that is like asking for sympathy from the devil.)
Man, he has too much time on his hands.
“Kennedy, you busy?” Rita knocks on his desk. The fabric of her shirt creases inwards to grasp the dip of her waist as she places a hand on her hip. She’s poised, but something about her gait is wobbly.
“Mighty busy.” He nods.
What they have is not history, but something much smaller. It is a word blotted out on a torn page from a burnt book, it is ground into powder by mortar and pestle.
It is Leon’s hand in her back pocket when nobody’s around.
“I’m sure.” She straightens her spine, eyes heavy with the weight of her lashes. “Up in Black Water, something about a dead pig.”
“They have gators,” Leon points out. He may be bored to the point of suicide, but he is not in the mood to wrangle any gators.
“I know,” she says, lifting her eyes from the ground to meet his sidelong gaze, “go check it out, she sounded real spooked, take a dog if you have to.”
She, huh.
Wonder what she looks like. He hopes she has big tits. He hopes she isn’t a cousin-fucking, peat-smelling hick.
Black Water has a lot of those.
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“Took ya long enough.” Your voice skims the air like a bullet, it strikes Leon in the chest.
You are she. And you, well—You’re both the needle and the spoon.
Doused in the lantern glow, the egg-whites of your eyes are streaked by small, bloody streams, your mac is zipped up to the chin, and your rainboots are the same colour of boxed rubber duckies.
You’re no sole-crushed peach, making the ground its canvas in a pitiful splatter, you’re a tart cherry that he would like to pick, melt into a glaze and store in a jar.
“Oh, we’re mighty busy.” Leon wipes Rita’s wet from his fingers on the front of his tailored pants, it’s gotten sticky like pomade. He thinks of her tailbone digging into the flesh of his stomach as he sits her on his lap.
“I bet.” You raise your brows. “How many lines did’ja do?”
Leon leans forward to watch your face with unblinking eyes. “Don’t say that too loud, Wesker’s gonna get worried, y’know, start digging through his stash.”
“Hah.” Your laugh is hidden into the collar of your mac. “He seems like the type.”
“You met him before?” An unpleasant squelch is heard when he steps where you do, it seems deliberate for a moment, that you’re avoiding a well-trodden path to give him a hard time. He stumbles forward in the dark—His shoes are fucked, and these socks deserve a funeral service.
“Think we all have.” Your body is lost in the shapelessness of your attire, clothes draped over your frame like you are more hanger than human. Effortless femininity lost to androgyny. “You’re not from these parts.”
“You don’t look like you’re from these parts, pumpkin pie,” he mocks your twang and is met with a tut.
You stop and Leon bumps into you with a grunt.
He shines his torch at the ground and isn’t quite sure of what he’s looking at. “That’s a pig alright.”
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risuola · 8 months
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Hi! How about exploring JJK characters as cop with this scenario hehe, ngl this is very Gojo coded for me
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLcR9FJ1/
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POLICEMAN — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
You get back home and see a mess. there was a break into your apartment and your first thought is to call your cop boyfriend.
a/n: i love the concept! thank you for the suggestion <3 i wrote it for gojo, because there’s never enough of this man and imagining him in the police uniform should be illegal, soooo…
cw: slightly angsty. other than that – none — 2k words
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“Police, what city?”
“Tokyo, I, uh…” you muttered through shaking breath and tears blinding your eyes. “There has been a break into my apartment, and I, um, I’m not sure, but I hear noises from above, and-“
“What’s the address?”
“It’s, um, Meguro district…”, you worded the address, two times to confirm it, pushing your back to the front doors, that now had their lock completely broken and useless and sliding down to the ground. The dead roses scattered near your legs in a puddle of stale water reminded you that you were alone. Maybe if the flowers weren’t dead, maybe if it was just few days earlier things would not end up like this, with you along the crumbles of what made your reality bearable.
“I’m dispatching police patrol, please stay on the line, don’t touch anything and remain calm. Help is on the way. Now, tell me what exactly happened?”
That night you were out, with your closest friend, enjoying the excellence of Japanese cuisine in the heart of Roppongi. No matter how long you’ve been living in the capital of Japan, it still amazed you with all of the delicious meals, the tradition that laced through the modern takes on dishes that are well-known for centuries and the absolute art of presentation. All of it made every experience magical but this time you couldn’t fully take it all in, the beauty slipped through your thoughts, as your mind was occupied by heartbreak you’ve just recently went through.
It's been a week, only few days but it felt like a year has passed already. Exactly one week ago you fought with the love of your life. Burning screams of the argument, harsh, heavy words and so much cyanide were poured into the explosion of emotions made for one of the worst days in your life and eventually, after hours of failed communication, after tears and helpless whispers, it all came to an end. A breakup, but what broke that day was not only your relationship with Gojo Satoru, not only few plates and one of your favorite mugs, but also your heart and you doubted it’ll ever heal. You don’t even remember what caused it all to shatter, what brought both of you to the point of cutting the strings that attached you two together for over a year but when it happened, it became obvious that there’s no way to tie them back. It seemed like what you had and built dispersed into nothing but hurt and sorrow. You watched him gathering the things he had scattered all over your place in silence and then, you watched him leave. He left you alone, with your face stained in tears and your throat dry and aching from all the words that hurt it.
That was the reason your friend invited you that night for some chill on the city. She knew how heartbroken you were and cheering you up was the mission of the highest importance. Aware of how fresh all of it was still, she didn’t push much, but it went quite nicely, you really put in effort to keep a bright face, but when you came back to your apartment, all of your good humor turned tail, leaving you with fresh new terror to experience. Something you couldn’t possibly be ready for.
Your doors were open, the lock completely broken and all of your mind quickly envisioned every black scenario that could happen right at that moment. You remained silent and entered when you determined that no on seemed to be inside, but what you were met with made your breath stuck in your throat. It seemed like nothing around you was not broken as if a tornado went through your little apartment, destroying everything on its path but when you grabbed your phone, instinctively searching for the number that your recent history of calls and messages knew all to well, the one that you could recite in the middle of the night from your head, you stopped, with your thumb hovering above the green headphone symbol and tears rolling down your face. You couldn’t call him.
When Satoru heard your address coming through the police radio in his car, he blanked for a moment. The street and number with the brief description of an offence taking place echoed in his head before someone on the line, some other patrol, possibly the closest one to your building, informed that is taking the issue and heading on. A residential break-in? And it was made obvious that the ambulance is dispatched as well, so you had to be hurt? Were you in danger? And if so, why wouldn’t you call him instead of those assholes in the general emergency line?
Questions piled up in his head when he informed the dispatcher that he’s also heading on the place, despite the objections of his superiors. All the way he was thinking that the address might be a mistake. Maybe it was another apartment in the building, or better, the building next to yours, maybe someone got something wrong, but when he got to the place, he realized it’s not. Few police cars and an ambulance were already there and by the look of a man being led handcuffed to the police car, he assumed the offender was captured already. Gojo run up the stairs to reach your eleventh floor quicker than the elevator, because he couldn’t wait any longer for it to go down. Adrenaline rushed through his veins saturating his thoughts with the irrational fear of seeing you there hurt, broken, abused. He would never forgive himself for not being here with you when you needed him.
Satoru busted through the door and met with the sight of complete disorder and mess, he almost gasped. He couldn’t imagine how frightened you had to be seeing all of this for the first time, realizing your apartment has been turned into a pile of broken memories, but as he pushed through the crowd that was taking pictures of everything what was broken, he noticed you in what once was your living room area.
You were there, with a blanket draped over your shoulders, surrounded by officers that were pushing you for the typical W’s that consisted of where, what, when, who and why. You sat on what would usually be the bottom of a couch that now has been upside down, visibly distressed and still crying, keeping your eyes down as the paramedic was measuring your blood pressure or whatever else. But you were there. In one piece, not bleeding, breathing quickly, but that was understandable. Sobbing. The cops were harsh on you, gathering your statement, asking for as much specific information as possible, forcing your answers and he knew it was just the procedure being followed, but it angered him nonetheless.
“What the hell happened here?” he almost groaned, stepping forward, when someone, visibly a freshly baked cop, tried to stop him explaining that this is a crime scene and no one’s allowed to get in. “Get out my way, rookie.”
“Let him through,” one of the officers that were around you called, and Gojo was quick to kneel in front of you, quickly assessing if you were hurt anywhere. He double checked. The sight of him made your heart beat faster, what didn’t go unnoticed for the paramedic beside you. Satoru was here, he was there and he came to you, because he cared, right? “We got a call-“
“I heard the call go through,” he cut him off harshly and then turned all of his attention to you, softening his features. The blues of his eyes, usually bright and joyful now were overflowing with concern. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard the address. All I could think was that if it really was your house, you surely wouldn’t just call the police – you would call me. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I assume you know that lady, officer?”, a cop asked and Satoru gave it a sigh, getting up as you stayed non responsive. You were too overwhelmed by the whole thing, the questions, the mess, and the paramedic that tried to force some drugs upon you to help you calm down – Gojo couldn’t blame you for shutting off, so he did what he could in order to finish all of this quicker.
In an hour, you were left alone. He took over the responsibility of making reports, gave few orders and promised to finish the formalities just to get rid of the crowd that invaded your space. Clocking out of the duty, he closed the doors and got back to you.
You were silently picking up pieces of what made your home a home, trying to tidy up, but in all honesty, you had no idea what to do, where to begin. How could you stay here for the night, when your locks didn’t work anymore and in the middle of the night, there was no way of fixing them? Hell, even if the locks would work, it seemed like the building that took pride in the advanced security systems and cameras wasn’t that secure after all. You could go to the hotel, or to your friend, but leaving your apartment open and unattended also didn’t sound well. Your hands were shaking when you tried to clear the floors from everything that was scattered there. Glass in the picture frames was broken, your pillows cut open with the filling thrown all over the place, clothes pulled out of the drawers and everything in between just messed up. As you looked through your belongings, it didn’t really seem like anything valuable was stolen. Jewelry still on its place, your documents untouched and yea, the few hundred yens that you had stored in one of your drawers was gone, but it was hard to believe all of this mess was just for that. Maybe the burglar was looking for something specific.
“Y/n,” Gojo called your name softly, carefully grabbing you by the waist and pulling your petrified form to himself. Immediately, you melted against his chest, wrapping your arms around him, searching for the safety only he could envelop you with. He was more than a home to you; he was everything in the universe that mattered to you.
“I wanted to call you,” you whispered, crying against his black, tight t-shirt that he had underneath his police uniform. The one that you always laughed he bought in the kid section because it was that tight, but nonetheless, you loved it on him. “I wanted to call you, but I had no idea if I should. If I still can.”
“You can always call me. I’ll never leave you without help and I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happen to you,” he cooed, smoothing over your hair, meaning to calm your distressed nerves, but his own heart was beating faster now than it was when he run up eleven floors. The one week of not having any contact with you was torturous to him, it felt wrong not to exchange even a simple hello in the mornings when usually, you would exchange messages for the whole day. He was used to hearing your voice whenever he wanted to, he craved your presence and everything that came with it – the feeling of your soft skin against his own, the subtle fruity scent of your hair, the tickle of your lashes fluttering against his neck when you buried your face there. He missed how your small hands would hide completely in his large palms and he missed how you would climb on top of him while you sleep, shamelessly stealing his warmth because you were almost always cold. Without all of this, his days became empty, incomplete and it only has been few days, but he couldn’t imagine it going on for any longer.
“I was so scared, I-“
“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here.”
“Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t know what to do…”
“Yeah, I will,” he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “And the night after. And the next one, and every other night. If you’ll have me.”
“I’d love that.”
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radicalgraff · 11 months
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"Cop City will never be built"
Graffiti in Pilsen, Chicago in support of the struggle to defend the Atlanta Forest from being cleared to make way for a massive police training facility dubbed 'Cop City'.
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hijinxinprogress · 5 months
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The JL finds out Captain Marvels identity and regrets it immensely
JL find out Captain Marvels a child and they start trying to parent him and just being awkward so it’s decided that Captain Marvel will join YJ (Clark started referring to Billy only as ‘son’ and ‘young man’ one time Billy saw an airplane and Clark leaned down and went “That there, son, is called an airplane and it-” “I’ll fucking stab you istg”)
To the public Captain Marvel is just extra supervision for YJ but the hero community knows it’s a way to discretely move Captain Marvel onto a team with people his age and be ‘safer’
But it doesn’t work out the way they want bc Billy’s a chaos gremlin much like YJ so they’re just doing dumb shit in the public eye bc they technically have ‘adult supervision’ (it takes Billy fifteen minutes to convince yj to go against being supervised by green lanterns)
“We’re literally your coworkers??” “I’ve literally never seen you before besides isn’t it illegal for cops to question a minor without their guardian present? 🤨” “Technically, he’s not their coworker bc he’s not in the jl anymore” “Kon” “What? I’m just saying!” “Stfu wait does Marvel even have a guardian??” “He doesn’t”
Anita and Billy are trading magic tips and teaching each other spells they should NOT have access to esp bc they’ve blown up thirteen city blocks and 1/4 of almost every planet they’ve visited with YJ
Cassie and Billy play high stakes games of catch above the earths atmosphere with missiles and shit in their free time and also during missions
Kon and Billy do just plain dumb shit they have no business doing and then playing up the ‘I’m just a baby…and I’m not even really human/I didn’t have a childhood so how would I know that I shouldn’t do that?’ excuse after bankrupting Luthor for the third time this month along with demolishing all of his newly renovated buildings (Which he and Greta repurposed to create low income housing and food pantries)
Cissie invites Marvel to all her Olympic events and he shows up to every single one with an obnoxiously large magical banner
Bart and Billy plan quips, one liners, and trash talk together and everyone hates it bc they only use the good ones on them but villains (along with everyone in their immediate vicinity) are subjected exclusively to shit like “nuh uh” and “make me”
Greta and Billy are taking down shady government operations with zero fucks to give (they had houses built for the people affected but they did also send a very long list of people to the hospital/morgue)
Billy makes Tim a magic skateboard that flies at like Mach 1 with so many magic cameras it’s concerning bc he thinks Tim being unhinged is funny especially it inconveniences or at least stresses out batman
But they’re mostly talking about what lies they’ve told the jl recently so they can plan their lies around each other “I lied to batman yesterday so you gotta back me up” and Tim’s fabricating evidence despite having no other information bc Billy will 100% “Aren’t you a so called ‘ethical’ billionaire? Nonono it’s whatever, I just thought you’d want to look out for the people but-”
And JL tries to lecture Billy about it ‘you should be more mature. I expected better’ and he’s just like ‘why?? I’m baby 🥺 I don’t know any better’ 
And Green Arrow’s so goddamn confused bc ‘Bro?? I’ve watched you do negotiations when Superman’s not available…’ ‘I’m just a little guy’ ‘I’VE WATCHED YOU STOP A WHOLE ASS INVASION IN TEN MINUTES’ ‘little baby man’ ‘But you’re one of the strongest members of the league???’ ‘You do know I couldn’t tie my own shoes like six years ago, right?’ ‘HOW OLD ARE YOU’ ‘Wouldn’t you like to know’
YJ and Billy just do a bunch of petty shit until JL has had enough and they’re like fine whatever it wasn’t a problem before
335 notes · View notes
neroushalvaus · 5 months
Text
Tumblr in the 60s – Part 2
Part 1 / Deleted Scenes
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💁🏼‍♀️brigittebardots Follow
anyone want to get fake married so i can get the pill to slut around
💋 marrymetwiggy Follow
Just say you have painful monthlies, I heard it works if you have a nice doctor!
💫 treatmetendermaureen Follow
Remember you still should use the sheet whenever possible. Stay safe ♡
1087 notes
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♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow
i think there's something wrong with me, i'm just so sleepy all the time, it's not fair
👭 marvelettesofficial Follow
That's because you spend all your nights listening to radio luxembourg
♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow
i heard nothing last night so i built an antenna out of poultry net, iron wire and bits of tin. i cut my fingers and our family chickens ran away
☁️ ankin-vaimo Follow
A small price to pay for some music.
♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow
the antenna fell apart before the german guy stopped talking
34 notes
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🗣 ilovejohnlennon-deactivated19660729
me: chilling
my brain: if you were shot and weren't sure whether you'd live or die should you call the cops to make sure your murderer gets caught or call the ambulance to increase your chance of survival
me: what
🗣 elviskneesofficial-deactivated19631119
There should be a number that'd reach both of those
🕺 elvisherselvis Follow
That number already exists. It's been used in my city for like a two decades.
🏆 petebest-or-bust Follow
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🕺 elvisherselvis Follow
Fuck you I'm British.
🪛 patrickwhoghton Follow
Oh my G, this post from -62 sounds so prophetic now that they're trying to make the 911 thing catch on, where's that jagger meme
🖖 spock-in-tardis Follow
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🕺 elvisherselvis Follow
This is literally not gift of prophecy. I told you back when this post was first made that this number has already existed in UK for years. It was obviously going to spread elsewhere, even US was bound to catch on at some point.
🏆 petebest-or-bust Follow
you are still here?? keeping an eye on this post??
💋 marrymetwiggy Follow
you're so grumpy @elvisherselvis maybe you should phone the emergency number and get a wahhh-mbulance
98,9 t. notes
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📼 bisexualbarbaradane Follow
my date: Oh I listen to folk as well!
me: That's so cool! Who are your favourites?
my date: I'm sooo into Bob Dylan.
me:
my date: Is everything okay?
me, stuffing jelly babies into my purse: I have to go, like, right now, immediately, sorry
#it's okay if you liked dylan before he became the judas he is #but you can't call yourself a folk fan if you still support him #ugghh i hate him #electric guitar using lil bitch #sigh #jelly baby meme #bob dylan critical // #anti bob dylan // #bob dylan hate //
2 notes
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🛸 premisendgame Follow
Cock and balls, I'm watching this previously banned american film where an american man is trying to fuck a soviet spy (played by famously very russian Greta Garbo) by offering her champagne and he is like "have you never had champagne?" and Greta is like "never 🥺 only goat's milk and a ration of vodka in the army" and the tv screen freezed and was like "ERROR!! CHAMPAGNE HAS BEEN SERVED IN SOVIET UNION SINCE 1936" I'm 😂😂😂
🪐 stalincredible Follow
You Americans will say anything to make Soviet stuff look silly
🛸 premisendgame Follow
Where do you think I am watching soviet tv from?? Or did I miss the memo where americans have the monopoly on joking about their own damn country??
322 notes
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🥁 ringoforpresident Follow
"In future there will be telephones you can take with you anywhere" I can't even fucking listen to Radio Luxembourg without building a goddamn satellite, sending it to space, reciting spells and prayers, and sticking the radio out of the window at 2am EET. And even then it needs to be snowing for it to work because the radio wave fairies like snow or some shit
♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow
preach
540 notes
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238 notes · View notes
binsito · 7 months
Text
subaru
pairing: han jisung x fem reader
genre: enemies to lovers
word count: 5.4k
rating: mature, includes: swearing, jisung is kind of an asshole to reader at first, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, mentions of death but in an exaggerated way due to being upset over a situation (no one actually dies, just used as a hyperbole here and there), an altercation where someone gets slapped on the face, slight mentions of reckless driving (they like to street race n shit!), words such as "stupid", "idiot", "dumbass", "bitch" etc are used, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of cum play, pet names such as "baby" are used. i think thats it??
disclaimer: i am not too involved in the car community although i do love cars ashsh so if i got anything inaccurate i apologize but it's just a silly lil fic okie!!!!!! also not entirely proof read lmfao
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subaru wrx with a clean build.
it was baby pink, low to the ground with bright blue led headlights. the color combination was absolutely sick.
it was fucking gorgeous and jisung couldn't help but be jealous.
it was two in the morning and he had decided that he wanted to grab some mcdonalds, his sleep schedule was shit and all he ever did was watch movies, smoke, eat-
typical boy shit.
but aside from all of that, han jisung had an extreme infatuation with cars, more specifically street racing cars.
none of that corny fast and the furious shit, he was seriously into car modifications and speeding whenever he was sure there wasn't a cop around to catch him (even if there was one, he'd probably floor it to get out of the mess like an idiot, catch-me-if-you-can mentality). he had built his old honda civic up from scratch and it had been pretty loyal to him thus far. that was his baby, his girl, he loved his car more than anything and it was his pride and joy.
however that subaru was definitely one of his dream cars. something he hoped to get his hands on one day when his civic decided it was time to bite the dust.
he was sure he had seen all the street racing cars in his city, he had gone to plenty of car meets to know.. but this subaru was new and he had never seen it before. he definitely would've known if someone in his car community got a new vehicle..
you two were the only cars on the highway right now, the city was mostly dead - perfect time to get some action in.
he drove closely to the car, right next to it, lowering his passenger window to look over at the driver.
he couldn't see shit through the tint, trying to get their attention by revving his engine at them but they seemed to pay no mind
who was this guy? why was he going to have such a badass car and not use it to its fullest potential? why even bother getting a racing car if you weren't going to put your foot to the pedal?
was this guy just being an asshole? jisung clearly was trying to race, trying to get their attention..
the least they could do was tell him no?
whatever.. jisung thought, pulling up his window before speeding off, smoke obnoxiously coming out of his exhaust as he drove.
--
that weekend, jisung had gone to a car meet, it was something he participated in once a month, it gave him something exciting to look forward to.
looking at all the cool modifications his friends have invested in for their cars - whether they got a fresh wrap, new lights, whatever it was, he was excited to see it.
he pulled up in his car, parking in reverse next to the other vehicles in the lot.
once he stepped out, everyone greeted him and they caught up, talking about whatever came to mind
"i saw this fucking baby pink subaru wrx.. none of you got a new car and didn't tell me right? you know how fucking much i love those damn cars!" he whines
"uh no actually.. did you race it?" "no the guy must've had a stick up his ass because he didn't even acknowledge me.." "well i'm sure you'll see them around again, it'll be hard to miss a baby pink wrx, trust me" his friend giggles.
jisung knew he was right, how many pink subarus could there possibly be in this town? (lucky for him, just one)
"hey jisung! there's your car!" his friends giggle when they catch sight of the pink subaru pulling up to the meet. the last thing he expected was to see them again so soon, here of all places.
"holy shit" he groans, he was dying to see who the asshole behind the wheel was, but they never seemed to get down, and those blasted tints might as well have been illegal because he could barely make out the shape of a person in there.
instead they rev their engine, jisung's friend urging him to get into his car and race them. so now this asshole wants to race, huh? he thought as he got into his car, pulling up next to the subaru as they drove out into the street. both getting their cars ready and as soon as the lights turned green, they were off. the area they were racing in didn't have many stoplights and was normally empty at this time of night. jisung knew this road like the back of his palm, so he felt like he had the advantage.
he was not about to lose to this person, no way in hell. he had so much faith in his old civic, it had never failed him before, so it better not fail him now.
(but the subaru was sooo kicking his ass and it was making his blood boil.)
they raced in a loop back to the lot where the other cars were at, his friends waiting with anticipation, watching as the subaru arrived first, jisung was furious.
how could he lose to this guy? his ego took a huge hit.
to make matters worse, the driver finally rolled down their window
"i hate racing guys that have those dumb anime stickers on their car.." you smirked.
jisung gritted his teeth.
a girl? a car girl?
(those were his dream girls, but how dare she insult his anime stickers..)
"better luck next time buddy.."
oh he could not stand you.. (but that was just his fragility speaking.)
his friends held back their giggles as they rushed over to the cars, they crowded over you, checking out the wheels on your car and complimenting them.
jisung wanted to explode, who even were you anyways? your car wasn't even that cool or that fast (he was lying to himself).
(he was soo fucking jealous)
--
unfortunately for jisung, that wasn't the last time he saw you.
you also began attending the car meets once a month and were quickly becoming acquainted with his friends.
great.
they had learned that you had moved to this city for a job and were excited to find another group of car enthusiasts. you were scared that maybe you wouldn't find a group but you were proven wrong.
everyone got along well with you except.. han jisung of course!
his friends had told him to grow up and get over it but he just couldn't seem to let it go, once he had a bad first impression of someone, there was no changing his mind.
it was childish, but that was han jisung for you.
he hated how you were becoming a part of his friend group, how his friends were inviting you over to their garage on saturdays to maintenance your cars together.
and he couldn't be more obvious with his hate. he made it his job to make it very clear to you that you were not welcome here.
"hey jisung can you pass me that-"
his foot coming to kick the wrench in your general direction while you worked underneath your car.
"dude piss off. seriously." his friend chan spoke up. he was the one trying the hardest to keep things neutral between everyone.
you tried not to let it bother you, although you were not stupid and knew jisung didn't like you one bit.
it made you a little upset the way he treated you.
you felt like you had to apologize. maybe the whole anime sticker thing really hurt his feeling? you didn't mean to hurt him but maybe you took it too far before you even got to know him?
you didn't want things to be like this if you were going to keep hanging around him. you'd find the time to apologize one of these days for sure.
--
see, han jisung was charming when you weren't around or when he thought you weren't looking.
he was actually a pretty funny guy.
(you loved funny guys, had a thing for them even..)
so you tried to incorporate humor when you tried talking to him but he always just looked at you blankly or let the joke go over his head purposely.
you were starting to feel like you'd never be able to apologize to him. and if you did, you were sure he wouldn't even accept it. this was so much harder than you anticipated, why couldn't he just let you make things right?
the only time han jisung ever talked about you without a front was when he was drinking with chan in the garage. they kept a fridge in there stocked with water and snacks and jisung was thrilled to see his favorite kind of beer in there one day. it seemed that drinking made jisung so much more open, like it made him just spill whatever was on his mind easily. it could sometimes put him in sticky situations but it also ratted his true feelings out. chan figured he could get some info out of him.
"your civic is getting old, dude.." chan teased him, taking a sip out of his beer can.
jisung just hiccuped and laughed.
"don't call my baby that.. she's all i got.." he smiled stupidly
"i think she's keeping the ladies away from you"
jisung waved him off and shook his head "nuh uh.. she's a babe magnet trust me.."
"what babe is she exactly pulling? cops handing you speeding tickets don't count" chan laughs
"that subaru bitch.. fuck if she wasn't so annoying.. i think i'd fucking kiss her.."
"she's got a name you know? she's only annoying to you 'cause you want to hate her." "no, she's annoying.. hot but annoying. like cool.. you like cars too, whateverrr.." he slurs
"what if you guys talked it out?"
"would rather die, channie my boy.. besides what if it get out of hand? what if she's angry hot or somethin'?.. no thanks.." he was holding on to one of the rolling carts in the garage only to almost fall over.
"you are the most stubborn person i know, han jisung." he shook his head
chan knew jisung had a tiny crush on you, there was no doubt about it. but he knew his best friend well to know he would never admit to it. god he was so dumb sometimes.
before you were in the picture, he would always talk about wanting a girlfriend who liked cars. how they could modify their cars together, go to meets hand in hand in their obnoxiously fast and loud cars..
(han jisung loved car girls.. had a thing for them even..)
but chan just kept this information to himself, didn't out jisung's crush to you. he wasn't that kind of friend. if it was meant to happen, he'd let it unfold.
--
things remained virtually the same after that conversation with chan, most times jisung couldn't remember anything he said after he drank so he wasn't even aware he basically told chan he liked you.
on this particular saturday, chan wasn't in the garage.
normally jisung wouldn't care, he knew where everything was and he could just start working on his car on his own.
but you were there.
you were there and it was pissing jisung off.
"what are you doing here?"
"oh.. i thought channie was gonna be here and i came so we could rotate my tires-"
"ew.. don't call him that.. channie? gross."
"well you call him that so what's the problem?" "i'm his friend. i'm not trying to fuck him."
to say you were offended was an understatement. maybe you shouldn't even waste your breath apologizing to him, seemed whatever this is was irreparable.
"you're a real piece of shit you know that? i'm not trying to fuck chan, he's my friend too."
"yeah well i've known him for ages so.. and i just know when a girl is just trying to fuck him, like it's so obvious.. could you be anymore obvious? jeez. like why are you even coming in here with those slutty shorts and-"
oh god.
you knew you shouldn't have done that but he had it coming.
your hand stinging after the impact.
shit, this was bad.
you slapped han jisung straight across the face.
"f-fuck jisung- i-i-"
he was angry. face red.
you swore you could see smoke coming out of him.
"get out of here. NOW." he said angrily between gritted teeth.
you didn't want to see where this would escalate so you quickly ran out, tears stinging at your eyes.
shit. you felt like you just ruined everything.
chan would be mad right? you hit his best friend across the face.. should you call him? you didn't want to burden him. ever since you started hanging out with them, all you've ever done was cause problems to arise. it was hard not to agitate han jisung when you all were together. things must've been fine before you joined the scene..
you decided it was best to just remove yourself from them and let them be.
--
after two weeks of not seeing you or hearing from you, chan knew something was up so he decided to confront jisung. he had invited him over to play video games and jisung showed up within the hour of being asked.
chan didn't feel like beating around the bush, this was getting out of hand and he needed to figure out how to make peace.
after two rounds of call of duty, chan looked over at jisung.
"mind telling me what happened that day i wasn't in at the garage?"
"what are you talking about?"
"don't play dumb ji.. come on. we both know better than that. it's been two weeks and i haven't heard or seen of y/n. i texted her and at first she was giving me excuses to not show up at meets or come over on saturdays but now she's straight up ghosting me."
"maybe she got tired of being annoying-"
"han jisung, get a fucking grip dude. she is NOT annoying. you're being a fucking asshole. you know she's been trying to apologize to you right? are you that stupid? you think she's just trying to crack jokes and bring us beer because she wants to be annoying?"
"no she's doing that because she's trying to fuc-"
"holy shit, you are a lost cause. i didnt buy the beer and it was never for me okay? she brought it for you because i told her you liked that kind and they don't sell it in any of the shops here, only that one liquor place twenty minutes from here. and i lied to her, i told her i'd be there saturday and i wasn't just so maybe, you'd be a nice guy for once and help her rotate her tires. clearly you didn't fucking do that."
"maybe i would've if she didn't fucking slap me."
"she slapped you? well you know what, maybe you fucking deserved it? if i were her i'd do a little bit more than just a little slap. i'd rock your fucking shit for being so fucking insufferable. you're my best friend but right now, you are being the most goddamn pathetic person ever. all because she kicked your ass in a race? because you like her car? because she poked a little fun at you that day?"
jisung started to get up, dropping the controller on the couch and walking towards the door, he knew chan was right but he was too prideful to admit it. chan didn't bother stopping him, he knew he had to let him reflect on everything. the only way jisung would ever listen was if he talked hard to him, it was the only way for his thick skull to understand.
jisung was embarrassed.
his ego getting the best of him.
he knew it was too late to backtrack everything he's said and done.
he fucked up and these were the consequences.
and karma had a way with things because as he was on his way home, his car finally gave out in the middle of the highway. thankfully nothing happened and he was able to make it to the side of the road quickly but he was so upset.
he couldn't help but cry as he sat on the hood of his car. he didn't even know who to call for help. he just sat there contemplating what to do while tears blurred his vision.
he wanted to kick and scream and throw himself in the middle of traffic but before he took a leap in front of a semi, he saw that godforsaken baby pink wrx.
he figured you would drive by him and not give a shit, maybe even roll down your window to laugh and point at him but you pulled up behind his car and got out.
maybe he had died before he made it to the side of the road and he was now entering his personal hell.
"han jisung? are you okay?"
he didn't answer you, instead he looked down at his feet.
"i'm trying to help. you're lucky i was on my way home and i saw you." you said, walking towards him
"hey, i'm talking to you, idiot. want me to just leave you and your stupid car here?" you shouted, hoping to get him to snap out of it.
he shook his head and sniffled
"just..get in my car okay? i'll call a tow truck." you sighed
he didn't question you, he just walked over and got in the passenger seat. jisung wasn't surprised that the interior was sleek, black leather with pink accents and led lights. you got in contact with a towing company, thankfully they came fairly quickly and took care of jisung's car.
you got back inside your car and started your engine before looking over at him.
"nothing happened right? you're fine?" "she just gave out on me.. i'm fine.." he mumbled.
you nodded and asked him to put in his address.
after that it just went quiet.
it felt tense but not like before. like there were things you both wanted to say but decided not to.
after fifteen minutes on the road, you pulled up to his apartment.
he didn't move to get out and you didn't urge him to.
"i'm sorry about your car jisung.. a-and i-i'm also so fucking sorry that i hit you.." you spoke up, breaking the silence.
"no.. it's cool.. i deserved it. thank you for stopping for me. that's really nice of you.. even after i was such a dick."
you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap
"i've been trying to make things right between us.. i know maybe what i said about your car that first time we met might've been rude but i didn't mean it like that.. friendly competition you know? but maybe i went too far.. i'm sorry.."
"no seriously.. it's fine. i'm the one that was being an asshole.. i'm the one who's sorry okay? your car is super sick and you're actually a really cool girl.. i just guess i got intimidated by you. that sounds really fucking lame doesn't it?"
you laugh and nod at him "super lame.."
he just smiled softly and let out a chuckle.
"i guess.. truce then? you owe me anyways for the ride home.." you held out a pinky for him, he wrapped his own around yours without hesitating
"truce.
oh and.. thanks for the beer."
you blushed softly, hoping he wouldn't notice.
(he definitely did. he thought it was cute.)
"oh yeah.. it was nothing. i just had a box in my house and i thought you guys would enjoy it more than i would."
(and he knew that was a lie too. that you had gone out of your way to buy a pack and didn't just have it lying around your house.)
"right right.. well thanks..
um listen there's a meet coming up.. you haven't really been around lately so.. are you gonna come? chan's been worried about you and i know it's my fault you've been m.i.a.."
"mm.. i dunno.. i feel kinda weird just showing up after ghosting him.." you said softly.
"i'll take care of that okay?"
"how do you plan on showing up if you don't have a car?" you teased
"well i could ask chan- no no.. he'd ask me what happened.. he's so nosey, dammit.." "i'll pick you up han jisung.. don't sweat it." you laughed and in turn it made him laugh.
the next order of business was him figuring out his feelings for you now that he had apologized and formed a truce with you.
he hoped he didn't fuck things up too badly. hoped that maybe he'd finally grow a pair of balls and face the fact that he liked you.
--
jisung knew it was gonna be crazy for him to show up the car meet with you.
in your car.
he knew chan was going to question and pull him aside and bombard him with a thorough interrogation.
but he tries not to think about it, not while he's shaking with nerves as he watches you pull up to his apartment, honking at him to alert him of your arrival but your loud ass exhaust pipes gave you away the second you entered his neighborhood.
he walks up to your door, hearing you click it open for him to get in.
and god, did you always dress this pretty to go to meets or is today a special occasion? cute blouse with a pleated skirt and converse to tie it all together.
so, so pretty..
"welcome to the barbie subie" you joked which earned you a smile from him
he buckled up and you were off, jisung enjoying the way you shifted gears and drove your car so flawlessly.
part of him didn't even want to go to the meet anymore.
all of him wanted to just pull over somewhere, lean back in his chair and talk to you for hours.
"han jisung is awfully quiet.." you giggled
but he didn't find it amusing, instead he shrugged.
"oh come on.. i thought we were doing good. what's wrong now?"
"you really wanna go to this meet?" "i mean.. you're kinda the one who invited me remember?"
"well yeah but.. i don't know if i wanna go anymore y'know?" "are you embarrassed of being seen with me or something? jeez man you got some serious ego issues to deal with-" "no no! it's just i dunno.. i think i just.. fuck.. don't laugh okay? don't you dare fucking laugh.."
you shook your head and bit your lip in hopes of hiding the smile creeping up on you
"i just kinda wanna hang out? like.. just with you.. and without chan asking a million questions. just us two alone.." "so like a date is what you're saying?"
"what! fuck no!"
you frowned but only to mess with him.
"w-well shit yes okay! but like you didn't have to say that yeah? admitting it makes me feel funny.."
"it's okay jisung. it's growth and you're lucky i think you're cute so i'm taking the offer."
jisung feels like he could jump out of your car from how crazy he's feeling right now. and he's so mad at himself for being such a dumbass before because maybe he could've been going on dates with you so much sooner.
he could melt into a puddle right in your seat.
especially when you tell him you've found this huge empty lot by a construction site that you two could go make donuts.
even more so when you tell him he can drive your car.
and jisung feels like he's in some insane car wet dream of his because there's no actual way he's in your car, driving, you at his side laughing hysterically while your car spins in circles, tires screeching as it leaves dark circular skid marks.
"j-jisung! jisung holy shit!" you laugh as you hang on tightly "i'm gonna hurl!"
he stops the car and his sides hurt from laughing. cheeks sore from the huge smile he had been wearing. and when he looks at you, he feels like such an idiot because he really wants to kiss you and he regrets wasting so much time hating you for no good reason.
and you feel the same desire.
you want to kiss his stupid, stupid face.
want him to finally admit he fucking likes you.
thank god you're both finally on the same page. both leaning in at the same time and bumping into each other with a laugh.
"you first.. please.." you whisper, he cups your face and leans in to capture your lips. fluttering his eyes closed as he gets to feel your soft mouth on his. letting out a pleased sigh as he deepens the kiss.
kissing someone had never felt this good before.
when you pull away, he almost whines, almost begs you to come back. he watches as you lick your lips, almost as if collecting whatever remnants of him were left on yours.
(he'd be lying if he said he didn't think it was hot.)
and he looks at you confused when you get up and crawl into the back seat of your car, gesturing him to come join you. basically knocking over himself as he rushes to get back there.
was jisung about to fuck his dream girl in his dream car? if you told him this a few weeks ago, he'd laugh in your face.
"by the way stupid.. i was trying to fuck you not chan.." you laugh
his face is so fucking red and his cock is so unbearably hard, he almost felt humiliated.
"why didn't you say something then?"
"cause you'd never even give me a chance to.. besides i thought you said you can tell when girls want to fuck someone? was i not being obvious enough for you?" you tease him, using his own logic against him.
he physically face palms, he'd have to make a reminder to never be so fucking stupid again. he'd have to learn to not open his big mouth sometimes.
"fuck. whatever okay? we get it, i was stupid."
"i'm not letting you live it down, ever." you smiled crawling over to him to give him another kiss
he pulls you close, grips your hips tightly. he was so needy but that doesn't come as a surprise to you.
"shit.. i wish i could've fucked you stupid in my civic.. make you regret ever calling her names.." he groans
"shh.. be quiet.. you talk too much.." you teased.
he quickly pressed you down into your seats, hovering over you as he pulled off his shirt. you leaned up to touch the tattoos littered over his skin. he should work shirtless in the garage you think. why doesn't he? maybe it would distract you but that would be alright with you.
and he doesn't waste a second pulling off your top, hastily unclipping your bra to let your tits spill out for him, slapping them before taking one in his mouth and moaning.
your legs wrapped around his torso, tugging him closer, desperately to feel him against your crotch
"fuck jisung.. take it out.. i wanna see it.." you whine
he pulls back to unbuckle his jeans shimmying them off while in the process hitting his head against the roof a couple of times. you laugh at him and reach forward to help him tug them down, boxers soon following suit, letting his cock spring free.
"now i wanna see yours." he gives you a stupid little side smile and you pull your skirt up to reveal your panties. black thong that would soon be thrown out of sight. you hook your fingers on them and tug them down, throwing them at jisung once they were off your legs. he caught them and give them a nice sniff to which you slapped his arm and laughed, calling him a pervert.
he quickly manhandled you into position. he wanted to take you from behind, wanted to lap you nice and clean before he even dared sinking his cockhead inside of you.
working your pussy with his tongue, his hands spreading your asscheeks open for him to be able to embed himself within you. he could stay like this forever. he could live off eating your cunt for the rest of his life.
you were soaking.
some of it dripping on to your leather seats which made jisung fucking lose it
"your car's gonna need some detailing on the interior once we're done.." his hot breath fanning against your pussy as he lands a spank on your ass
"i think my pussy needs detailing first.." you giggle and jisung lets out a grunt. you couldn't joke with him like that, he could fucking die!
he spits on his cock and and uses it to work himself, pumping his length and letting his tip collect some of your essence so he could rub it in with his palm.
he presses an inch in, hearing your breath hitch as you scramble to hold on to the door, anticipating him to completely ruin you.
he curses as he feels your tight pussy swallow whatever he gives you, starting with an inch, then two, then three.
holding still to not overwhelm his cock and blow right then and there, he still had to work the rest in and he was already feeling his balls tighten at the sensation of your warmth.
once he collects himself, he bottoms out. taking a deep breath as he holds your hips and starts to set a steady pace.
the way your pussy was gripping on him was making him dizzy. hearing you moan his name and reaching a hand back for him made his ego and cock swell. he grabbed your hand and held it behind your back as he pressed you further up against the door.
you didn't seem to care about how uncomfortable it was at the moment, all you cared about was that han jisung was using your cunt and it felt so fucking good.
your face pressed against the window as you mumbled incoherently, he picked up the pace as a sheen of sweat started to form on his body.
"fuck.. this pussy is so greedy.. holy shit.." he groans loudly
he could barely pull out, cunt too tight and hungry for him to even let go.
"this pussy is mine now got it? m' making it mine.."
"yours now jisung..fuck yes.. gonna cum in it right?"
"you can fucking bet on that, baby.. gonna fuck you full and have you keep it in until the next car meet. then i'll just fill you up all over again, got it?"
you moaned in agreement, you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of jisung's cum. maybe you'd go home and play with yourself, pressing your fingers inside of you in hopes of collecting some to rub against your clit. or maybe you'd bring it up to your lips to taste him, to imagine it's actually his cock in your mouth and not your fingers.
"shit jisung.. i-i'm gonna cum.. keep going baby please.."
the pet name has him reeling, it makes him animalistic, pounding into you so hard that the car starts shaking. if anyone were to pass by, they'd know exactly what was going on inside your car.
he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, pinching it a few times to hear you yelp.
"come on baby.. cream on my cock.. milk me yeah?" his chest pressed against your back while he whispered pure filth in your ear.
he could feel your pussy clamping down on him as you reached your orgasm, body shaking as it ripped through you, cumming with his name on your lips.
it was finally too much for him so he lets himself go, letting his cum seep into your walls as he finished inside of you, making sure not a drop is spilled.
"fuck jisung.. that was a lot.." you whined, afraid that if you moved too much you'd make a huge mess for sure.
"sorry.. just had to get my point across. i was serious about this pussy- well.. you.. being mine.." he laughs shyly
"we can discuss that topic later and see if it fits into the terms and conditions of our truce." you giggled.
he smiled and helped you up carefully to give you a soft kiss.
at least he was right about his honda civic being a babe magnet, right?
his car sacrificed herself for this moment and han jisung couldn't be too mad about it.
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please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito
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houseofpurplestars · 3 months
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Just two days after another SWAT raid against Stop Cop City activists, allegedly for arson of police motorcycles, another police vehicle has gone up in flames.
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alienpossession · 10 months
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Annual Leave
I spent 16 days touring across East Asia and Southeast Asia. I made a lot of friends throughout the solo trip and that's all thanks to Pelle. You see, I did say to people that I have a solo trip and just luckily made tons of friends, but it's always been a game of two from the get go.
I was so stressed out in my first day when I landed in Japan. They don't like or feel too comfortable to converse in English and boy it was a great sight yet so draining due to all the confusion. So I resorted to my back-up plan that I stored in my suitcase once I checked in to my hotel to relieve me from the stress of this whole solo trip. Pelle is a friend of mine that came from millions of light years away. He's been very important for me as he helped me to solve my bullies problem ever since my senior year of high school until now in my 3rd year with my roommate and those frat boys. Pelle slid off the jar quickly as soon after I opened the lid and just like that, he was gone for the moment as he already knew what it meant for him when he's released.
Around an hour later, someone knocked my hotel room and when I opened the door, this Japanese guy starts speaking in an accented English telling me to skip shower and let him guide me around the bustling megacity. A quick glance to his eyes confirmed my suspicion, Pelle override whoever this guy is already and used his body as as vessel
Aki shown me around his hometown, Tokyo, and then packed his bag to the countryside for 3 days where his built and of-course-fluent Japanese helped us to survive and have fun without getting lost.
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I think the time where he practically slut me out to the whole onsen where my head was pistoned in several succesive cocks truly left a memorable impact in me. Pelle's decision to take over Aki's body back in Tokyo despite me insisting on making this trip an actual solo trip was eye-opening (and hole-opening of course). Not only did that solve a lot of potential problem, having a local guide that you can have fun together with and not going to be fussy about your itinerary is a total blessing because it's still feels like the one that drive the trip is you and you only have someone to fully help you around.
But Japan was just the first out of many country I planned to visit. Pelle slid out of Aki in one of the toilet in Narita, and minutes later he messaged me that he already joined the flight directed to my next destination, Beijing. During the flight, I got informed by the flight attendant that my seat was upgraded to Business Class. I was quite suspicious to the studly flight attendant but as soon as I got escorted to the Business Class section, the flight attendant quickly shoved me to the carpeted floor much to my surprise. He then said
"Sniff and bark like the dog you are!"
I glared at him wildly, but then I realized that he's merely puppeteered by Pelle. So, Pelle is not inside the flight attendant any longer and he's instead hidden in one of this private cabin. After forced to be on all fours sniffing my way to find in which section the mysterious guy hid himself, I finally caught whiff of this leathery perfume and oaky stench. That's when I opened the private cabin to eventually stumbled with the sole passenger in the Business Class section.
"You found me,"
"Not like you can hide such strong smell,"
I once again got shoved by the flight attendant that just came outta nowhere, and then I literally fell on top of this buff young guy with his chiseled face and equally appetizing body. I can smell him even clearer now, he even smelled expensive yet super sexy too and he just giggled at me for being so awestruck with him
"Never been so up close and personal witb a hunk like me, huh?"
Which is clearly wrong because all those frat boys already left me cop a feel anyway, but I did have to admit that this guy is great on his own way.
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He's a Beijing native and he own a pad overlooking the city where I stayed for 3 days having the best time getting pampered by him.
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He also introduced me to his 2 best friends who willingly tag-teamed to destroy my hole from both ends while he's busy working in the next room.
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Pelle's control on the young, cocky businessman is a true masterwork on its own, but the way Pelle managed to also affect the businessman's two best friends without even needed to slid into them clearly shown how amazing his computational capability to manage 3 different human being doing activities of their own.
Then, after some digging, Pelle realized that the young businessman also have private jet he rarely used because he knew it was totally monitored by his parents. After influencing the pilot (that's also in his parents paycheck) to ensure that no tracking devices left behind the private jet, he let me use his private jet for the remainder of my trip. I asked the pilot to drop me in Hanoi.
I went to Hanoi a lot during my childhood since my dad is a Vietnamese immigrant but I've never been in Hanoi ever since I graduated elementary school. My companion in Hanoi was Van, a gym cutie I stumbled in this rooftop bar I went to during my 2nd night in the city.
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Pelle slid into Van when he eventually left his table that he shared with his 5 other friends for some quick fix in the restroom. Pelle did give Van a quick fix as the loud-mouthed asshole that slapped on girl's butt that went pass his table all night long turned into a horny gay motherfucker as he rode me to town in the cramped bathroom stall. We consummated our relationship all over town as he literally fucked me in his parked G-Wagon before heading for some 2 AM pho fix. Van lived in a high-rise apartment paid by this lady that frequent his gym and paid him as her boytoy. Pelle observed that Van's misogyny and rudeness came from the fact that he's self-aware that he's practically just a slut and that hurted his ego and I just nodded in silence when he explained all that. I don't know, I wanted to pity him but at the same time, isn't it his life choices? Who am I to judge anyway, he's just a guide too for me to shown me around so I decided to not be too sentimental about some life story of random meat puppet my alien friends worn
Van continued on to become my Vietnamese trip companion as I went to Sa Pa, Da Nang and closed the Vietnamese leg in Ho Chi Min.
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We left his body in the hotel room in the old quarters of Ho Chi Minh as I travel to Bangkok, still with the trusted private jet Pelle made the businessman let me use. In retrospect, I think Pelle enjoyed our Thailand leg the most. The country was in the middle of a heat wave when we came so everyone was wearing the thinnest shirt possible and the club is filled with people ditching their shirts and just danced the night away. That's when I also stumbled with Pat, who didn't even need to be taken over by Pelle to be nice to me.
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I just instantly have a good vibe from seeing him and talk to him briefly, but alas, I'm not here for niceties and it was actually thrilling to see how Pelle made that beautiful face of his smirked when he managed to take over Pat's body and directed me to meet him in the club's bathroom.
Pat, obviously, is a model and social media personality. An engagement for a brand in Pattaya the following day caused us to tag along for that event where Pat influenced one of his local friends to show me around while he's shooting all day. That's when I realized that Pat might be too busy of an individual to show me around so I contacted Pelle to just left his body. You know what he did instead? He wrapped up the shoot in lightning speed as he influenced the producer to not ask him for another take and then solely guided me around the places while occasionally grumbling on how I would be punished later for making him do all this work and almost jeopardizing his career.
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We spent 4 days in total in Thailand and Pelle, as Pat, showered me with attention, affection and his seemingly unrelenting amount of cum. He was the light of the party so it was easy for him to lure in some friends that quickly turned into a temporary additional muscle puppet as he put his own friends under his control. We literally spent our final night in Bangkok fucking like there's no tomorrow, the crowd of Pat and his friends all trying to get a piece of action with me and with each other as if they weren't bunch of straight guys or married man themselves before Pelle's takeover of Pat and the subsequent mind control he unleashed to these oblivious men. As we finished with him and his friends, we just silently left him in the aftermath of the orgy in his apartment to close off my Thailand's leg and headed to the real closing leg of my holiday trip
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The final part of the trip put me in Bali where the jet eventually returned back to China too after we landed in the airport. Pelle of course remained by my side as we went into this well-known beach side gym with outdoor setting where one of my bully, Kyle, already waited for me and Pelle. He's been taken over by Pelle before so there will be no issue for Pelle to slid back into Kyle and after that, we departed back to the States
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*** 18 hrs later, Hamad International Airport, United Arab Emirates ***
"What do you think of Europe?" asked Pelle through Kyle as he already in control of the jock's brain ever since our meet-up in the beach yesterday
"Huh? What are you talking about? My leave----"
He shushed me and then he winked at me as he motioned me to look into the opposing chair where a stud comfortably manspread in the chair with his headphone on while his left hand rested on that visibly hard groin. I licked my lips, thinking about Pelle making that dude's mine for the time being until we get called to board. But then, Kyle whispered to my ear
"What if I told you that you could be him?"
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quitealotofsodapop · 1 month
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Bruh I was gonna write this as a ficlet but I ain't never gonna finish. Here, feel free to add or contribute if you please or enjoy:
This wasn't how Wukong's day was supposed to go. He was supposed to just do a quick flight over to the city, check his former brother's seal, and return home to another binge marathon of Monkey Cop and pigging out on peach chips. None of this successor stuff, none of this fighting to save the world bullcrap. Just a normal, regular old day of being completely alone aside from his younger and more feral subjects, the cubs often curling up on him or practicing their grooming. Just like he's done for the past 500 plus years.
His sister-in-law and her son finding a way to actually succeed in their quest to release his brother wasn't in that plan... neither was the unexpected reunion between Wukong and the little cub he'd given up all those years ago. Qi Xiaotian, or MK as he was known as, had grown up quite a lot in the years since he'd broken his own heart by placing a human disguise on him, sealing his powers away, and left him to the decendants of his late master and brother to find. Don't get him wrong, he hadn't done so out of neglect or because he didn't want to keep the cub. Hell, he hadn't even completely abandoned him either, consistently checking up on the little guy and keeping him safe from a distance as he grew. But he wasn't stupid either, the kid would have been miserable growing up with Wukong, would have never had a normal life if he was left with the old king, and that was the last thing Wukong had wanted for him.
Even so, seeing him suddenly appear out of nowhere had near made Wukong's stone heart jump out of his chest. Why his cub (Wukong firmly shook his head at the reminder that MK was NOT his cub anymore and he doesn't have the right to call him that) was even in that dirty alleyway climbing the pipes he has no idea, but at the moment Wukong had bigger things to worry about. Like his brother rising from the ground as his staff was lifted by some weird gauntlet his nephew had built and the fact he was in no way capable of fighting his brother again.
The kid promptly running away and then losing the staff in some hairbrained scheme to get it back to him after he picked it up hadn't been the best. Nor was the kid nearly being blown into a lava field by his sister-in-law and being forced to save him and carry him the rest of the way to Huāguǒshān hadn't been the best outcome either, but he'd take it.
He just wished it hadn't come at the cost of the kid discovering Wukong's secret. He had kinda figured it'd get out when the kid decided to try to return the staff to him, but he kinda wish it hadn't happened the way it had. The kid had seen him as he transformed back into his true form from his eagle form, which normally wouldn't be an issue, except Wukong had gotten up that morning and decided not to even bother brushing his fur or changing out of his pajamas.
Like he said, he had been planning a quick peekey weekey at the staff to make sure nothing was amiss and then binging his shows, nothing exciting or cleanup worthy. And considering his pajama shirt proudly proclaimed 'Baby on Board' there was simply no hiding the truth. Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, was pregnant.
Had been since before the Journey that truly made him a legend had even properly started, not that anyone beyond Guanyin or the Pilgrims had known.
MK had naturally been extremely excited to meet his idol and also quite confused about his condition. Wukong had just laughed off the matter for the most part. It certainly wasn't the worst reaction he'd dealt with in regards to his condition, Zu Baije had taken the cake for that one. And of course, Wukong had to be a kind host and lead the kid back to his hut, partially so he could change out of pajamas into something more fitting for company, while the kid rambled on about the Demon Bull King. It was during the walk back that Wukong had, essentially, admitted to spying on the kid.
And admitted to his own fault in getting the kid involved, confessing that he had sort of panicked in the moment. It was only fair that he fessed up, as he truly hadn't intended to put him in any true danger. He needed a distraction. Something to get that staff away from the IronBull Family, and the kid was the only available option. Especially when considering the more than likely negative feelings the IronBuul Fanily harbor towards Wukong and his precious egg.
He'd even complimented MK's handling of the staff, which was quite impressive considering exactly what Ruyi Jingu Bang actually was and the fact the kid had no prior experience with staffs or any type of weaponry as far as Wukong knew. The fact he could even lift the ancient artifact at all was impressive. He even joked that he might as well make him Wukong's successor for real after seeing that, after getting the staff back. That was a mistake. The kid took the joke seriously and decided that, since Wukong clearly couldn't fight in his condition, he would fight of Demon Bull King in his stead.
Wukong was almost impressed, if he hadn't been busy panicking over how BAD of an idea that was. MK is mortal!! He could get hurt! But apparently stubbornness is a common trait among Stone Monkeys and their ilk, because once MK had the idea in his head he refused to let it go. At this point, the best Wukong could do is damage control.
And by that he meant 'reign the kid in enough to get an actually viable plan up off the ground.' A plan that, upon reaching the city where the IronBull Family were beginning their conquest, and being surprised to see MK's friends rise to the occasion to try to fight the demon family themselves in the process, immediately went belly up in the water. The kid was supposed to stay back, let Wukong handle distracting the king while he got his friends to safety and snuck close enough to try to summon the staff from where it was being used as a battery in the generator DBK was wearing to power himself up. But then Wukong collapsed as soon as they landed, the multiple trips and carrying a teenager across an active volcano field being too much in addition to the baby that consistently drained his powers and the dao around it. Because of course Stone Monkey pregnancies can't be easy, right!?
Seeing the situation, MK promptly took Wukong's role and challenged the Bull King, leaving Wukong groundbound and trying to sneak close enough to get to the staff.
Then MK fucked up.
Wukong has no idea what the cub was thinking, but he decided to go for the generator himself, causing a massive explosion and a ton of property damage. And for Wukong, that resulted in a building falling on top of him. Luckily, Wukong is the Monkey King and was able to cast a last second protection spell upon his stomache to prevent his baby from getting hurt and he himself is immortal and mostly invincible, unfortunately he doesn't have the strength left between everything to get out from under the building. And he's fairly certain he has a couple of broken ribs and his leg is most definitely not supposed to bend that way. Meaning he was stuck, injured, and vulnerable out in the open with only him hastily throwing his dirty and ripped scarf over his head in a desperate attempt to stop anyone with unfriendly intentions, namely his former brother, from recognizing him.
In short, he was screwed.
See, an unfortunate truth about Stone Monkeys is that the reason they are
so rare in spite of their unique methods of procreation and power... is because it comes at a heavy cost. The stone egg that grows within a celestial primate feeds upon their very life force and the dao around them. Meaning that between the egg, multiple trips between his island and the city, and the work he put in to just keep the shrapnel from the battle form hitting any of the mortals who just had to stop and stare, Wukong had very little of his strength and power left to do something as simple as moving a couple thousand tons of rubble, debris, and shrapnel that was now burying his lower body. Some of which was digging painfully into his leg. Sometimes he wishes he had never let himself be redeemed, things would have been simpler if he didn't care about dorky mortals who foolishly hang out where they shouldn't be or pick fights with ancient demon kings.
"Hey, hey!" Wukong's ears perked as a voice shouted over the explosions of DBK's cannon. Blinking, he turned his head towards the sound, trying to blink past the dust and debris clouds that looked just a little too much like smoke in the waning light of the sunset. When did it get so late!? A large, stocky figure that would be considered short by most demons' descriptions but looked a giant in Wukong's own unglamorous opinion began to fade out of the dust around him, and bringing another sense of panic to him.
Zu Baije's decendant.
The monkey demon absolutely could not risk him seeing him. Being recognized in this vulnerable state would be bad news for him and his baby, that aside, he himself is msot certainly not mentally or emotionally ready to handle seeing a potential reincarnation of his brother! It doesn't take a genius, when one has Eyes of Truth, to realize the soul now running towards him through the debris shared the sound of his ancestor. Wukong squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of a way out fo this as the piglet fell to his knees next to him.
"Are you alright!? Jeez... what am I sayin!? Of course you ain't, a building fell on you! Hey, don't worry, well getcha outta here."
The pig was rambling as he took in the filthy orange fur and unnatural angle of the monkey's leg. Wukong forced a smile upon his lips, all teeth and praying it be reassuring. Time to try to convince him to leave.
"D-don't worry about me. I'm fine." Wukong coughed out, cursing the way his voice stumbled over the words. The pig did not seem convinced, or I pressed for that matter, with. Wukong's reassurance. Instead he collapsed next to the monkey demon and began digging at the debris.
"H-hey, what..." Wukong tried to weakly shove him off, "I said not to worry! A bunch of rocks isn't gonna hurt me, you should just get out of here yourself! The fight is heading in this direction!"
AHHHHH!H!HH!H!H!H!
@a-tea-goblin you seeing this!?
This is gotta be one of the best gifts i've recieved in a long while!
I love the descriptions of Wukong + MK instantly deciding "I protec you now." when he realises that the Monkey King isn't doing so great cus of the baby.
And Dadsy to the rescue!! You know Wukong is caught off guard - I love how you have him protesting getting helped the entire time. He's not used to people caring about him again.
Even if you never "finish" this as a ficlet, I immensely enjoyed what you wrote!
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thatsleepymermaid · 3 months
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On Monday, February 5th 2024 the Atlanta City Council voted to adopt a ordinance for signature match for referendum petitions. It's already difficult for referendum petitions in Atlanta since you have to be in person with a witness AND have been registered to vote in the last mayoral race. Now, on top of all that, your signatures have to be verified and an exact match.
This is despicable and makes it almost impossible to pass anything through referendum to ballot. With SB 63 essentially banning bail funds and not allowing anyone to bail someone out more than three times it basically makes it impossible to protest lest you be arrested and not be able to gain bail.
Be assured, Cop City will never be built. We'll keep fighting and writing. It ain't over until the Citizens of Atlanta say it's over!
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𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 — 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐒. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲
❝Leon was completely in love with you. He already knew he loved you even before the incident in China.❞
ɴᴏᴛᴇs: Hey, folks! English is not my native language, so I'd like to apologize for any mistakes you may find! Feel free and enjoy this short story about our favorite police officer!
Leon Kennedy is a man of simple tastes. He accumulates sketches and Polaroid photos in a box in the attic. He likes small apartments and his cup of coffee - sugar-free - every morning before checking emails.
However, Leon Kennedy is a very different man from the 21-year-old police officer who arrived late on the first day of work. Leon acknowledges that the worst part of living a life as an agent of the American government is this: he has an excellent memory for everything, good and bad. A monotonous grayscale, with growls of creatures whose shapes once belonged to ordinary people, covers most of them. He is a hero. Leon Kennedy is a veteran in the war against bioterrorism. He rescued the daughter of the President of the United States and became the best agent in the entire DSO. He found a glory he didn't seek. Something many desire in life, and that was a standard too high for that Raccoon City cop to imagine - and his standards were pretty high back then.
But this was not the life he desired. He desires and enjoys a simple life.
Leon is not a hypocrite: he prefers a peaceful death, lying in his bed, rather than being consumed by the undead. He is aging and needs something to lean on, a place to rest, to enjoy the pleasures of a simple life.
Fix what was broken. Leon knew he would have taken a checkmate just for desiring you.
Find a thread of hope. Undo the ashes that covered your life and give way to a palette of colors as beautiful as the dawn in spring.
All thanks to you.
Leon met you in one of the darkest moments of his life. How, he thought, can the world become a better place when so many horrible things have happened?
But you destroyed every barrier he built over the years, causing delirium with the thought of hurting himself or even losing the lovely sound he made when the characters in his favorite book got together. Leon knew he had taken a checkmate just for desiring you.
He was younger, and so were you. He remembers your eyes, large and doe-like, full of endless curiosity. He also remembers your smile, the shy way your palm covered your lips when you laughed. Leon never imagined himself a nostalgic man, but your presence adorned most of his favorite memories.
Leon remembers as perfectly how you two became friends easily, long before entangling into his apartment with your tacky coffee cups. Every night spent in a training gym, your company preventing him from walking out the door and surrendering to bottles of whiskey and cheap beer. Your jokes and sarcastic comments that he would have found irritating, but the desire to suppress a smile often found its way one way or another.
"Stop frowning before you break your face.''
"It would be so sad, and you'd cry for depriving yourself of this beautiful face.''
"Oh, screw off," he says.
And then the subtle compliments began - compliments about your hair that could be mistaken for insults, anonymous wildflowers left on your bedside table, the gentle touch on your forearm when you started to fidget with your fingers, a habit he soon understood as a sign of anxiety.
Gradually, you also turned to his touches - and began to seek them out. You held his hand under the table during meetings, always bought two cups of coffee on the way to the DSO, and sat together in the morning to review paperwork, your distraction with toe-tapping boots hidden beneath the table.
Leon was completely in love with you. He already knew he loved you even before the incident in China.
A frustrated sigh left his lips as Leon inspected your face more closely, trying to hide his concern with the head wound and the now-dried blood that marked a trail from the hairline to the chin.
"I'll kill him. I'll hurt whoever hurts you," he promised, his fingers brushing against her chin.
Two weeks after that mission, Leon invited you to wander the streets away from the center of New York. As they walked in slow steps, the city buzzed with activity.
The sky had a perfect shade of blue-green, filled with thin and shiny clouds, and Leon couldn't help but tilt his chin back, admiring its fluffy composition as they hovered in the sky. Some children passed by them, running after each other with short, quick steps, and their laughter spread through the crowd, blending with the low hum of conversation among friends and the cheerful chant of store owners.
Vendors were shouting, advertising their products, trying to lure people into buying from them, and it took a lot of Leon to contain a woman who wanted to devour everything at any moment. You turned your head from side to side, up and down, trying to process every tiny detail of the area. Your heart raced in your chest, and your heart-shaped lips were smiling. Oh, did this store owner just move to that area? Great! You promise to be his most loyal customer.
To your left, an elderly woman with brown hair was selling second-hand cauldrons. Then, in front of her, was a cart overflowing with hundreds of thick books with new and colorful hardcovers. You leaned forward, gray eyes examining the dozens of covers, looking for something that stands out in the crowd. Your lips were pressed into a thin line, your forehead furrowed in concentration. His eye twitches. Leon bites his lip to suppress a smile and reaches for the stack, pulling out a book and passing it to you.
Leon bought four books for you that day.
The hours passed quickly, unlike what they usually do when waiting. You drank too much and danced all night.
Leon thanked all the lucky stars for that night.
Because when you smiled over your shoulder, Leon felt completely sober. Your lips touch in a chaste kiss of just a second. And he holds your hands close to his heart. His tongue traces your lower lips, brushing the edge of your teeth before merging with yours. It was gentle, as he could say all the things he kept hidden in his heart.
Well, and now here he is: Leon Kennedy, the war hero, at 67 in his small and simple apartment.
His hair was gray, shoulders slouched, but he never seemed happier. He woke up early that morning, poured his coffee into his cup with tacky letters "for the best dad in the world," while checking the messages left on the answering machine.
"Hey, Dad, how are you? I'm leaving campus now and should be home by late afternoon. Can't wait to get there, I miss you. Love you."
Leon smiled.
He also couldn't wait to see his boy again. The blue eyes - his blue eyes - and infectious smile that had long filled that apartment.
Leon Kennedy loved his son in a way he never imagined possible. It was as if this love was enough to kill him.
Oh, he had a beautiful life.
And he was looking forward to savoring every last minute of it with you.
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theehorsepusssy · 6 months
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TheeHorsepussys Portland : Vaseline Alley aka Stark Street aka Harvey Weinstein ( I always get that mixed up) Harvey Milk Blvd
Documenting some gay-ass history for the kids
Red Arrow - 2 blocks to Touche. Not gay but spent most of the 90s in that bar. Fancy looking dining room/pool room but mostly service industry clientele. Hard to find a spot to do drugs discreetly.
Green - Everyday Music. Where to sell vinyl for dope money.
Yellow - Big BIG abandoned, scary building. Looked haunted. Was eventually renovated. But gave you the heebie-jeebies walking past it at night. Gay bashing zone
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Green Arrow - The City Nightclub. Underage nightclub. Chicken Hawks(is that Gus Van Sant?), lots of drugs, good DJ downstairs, GREAT DJ upstairs
Red - The Henry Weinhard Brewery (demolished) Made the area smell really, really awful. Gagging thinking of it.
(Stark Street starts to the right here. It looks like they built some weird barrier in the intersection..probably cuz drunk gays in middle of street)
Orange - The Bathhouse. Home away from home. I would sell rip-off size bags of meth to subsidize my habit. Sucked a huge penis here. Gagging thinking of it. Gay bar downstairs was called either Flossies or Silverado or both. Male strippers. Would buy my shitty little bags of dope.
Blue Arrow - at one moment in the 90s, a sex club I think owned by Fantasy Video. Robert would meet his side piece there . The director Todd Haynes, I fuzzily recall reading, was a patron. I went once. Weird vibe. There was a plaque on the wall outside the entrance commemorating the recording of Louie, Louie.
Orange - The Eagle. Bar where it was common to have sex. I saw a guy take a foot up his butt. Cops started randomly coming in to cock block. There is a new bar called the Eagle up in NE Portland up by the Heroin Fred Meyer (I suppose they all are now)
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Blue - Transient hotel above the store I hated buying cigarettes from but can't recall why. Maybe it was expensive.
Green - Greasy spoon called Roxys. Horrible breakfast food 24/7. I think it used to be down the street on Everett. Had a tiny basement bar. Moved to Vaseline Alley in 90s. Had ginormous picture of Quentin Tarantino or some shit. Very 90s
Yellow - Three Sisters (Six Titties) dive bar/gay bar. Never really went there. At some point was a male strippers bar. Robert had me escort one of his side pieces there. Kid thought the stripper was really into him. I tried to explain. I won $600 on the poker machine and drove the kid home.
Orange - Django Records. Large amounts of cheap used records. 3 for a dollar bins! I bought Eyehategod In the Name of Suffering here. Also the Cruising soundtrack...33cents!
Red - Fancy, expensive hotel. Yell really loud underneath the windows. They like that. Cops always parked along this stretch. Drunk gays got their first DUIs around here.
Mint- block of amnesia. I don't think it existed
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Red - Boxes. Gay bar where you did lines of coke/mda/meth in the bathroom without hassle. TV sets with Oprah or Steel Magnolias, shit like that on. Spartacus Leather fetish store was down a couple doors. Inside Boxes, you could take a wood paneled passage through the fish restaurant kitchen ( I don't think anyone ever ate there) and end up at.....
Green - the Brig. Named because dance floor had bars around it like a jail cell. Imagine the creative dance moves as the queens grappled bars, ass out while Madonna songs played on a loop. Your meth dealer could be found here, doing a fan dance. Don't wear black. Semen stains show up under the blacklights. (or do)
Yellow - the house paint store. Eventually became the Panorama in the age of MDMA. Rave type music. Went there once to meet a dealer. Obnoxious experience.
White - Silverado. Country Western night most nights. My roommate dj'd andtaught line dancing but dance floor was like 10 sq ft so it was just the gays holding hands and boot scootin' in a little circle for eternity. Bar I could get into underage.
Orange - Ben Stark Hotel. Like outta Barton Fink. But really,really seedy. Had some weird sex in there. Now a boutique hotel owned by some Donald Trump guy Gordon Someone who did something once. Probably haunted.
Brown - Scandals. Beer /wine bar. Big windows so you can people-watch and talk shit. Used to go in there underage until I got thrown out snorting a rail of MDA off the tabletop. Had electronic darts and video poker in the 90s. Me and Robert had a domestic dispute there.
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Red - row of funky vintage/antique shops. Someone used to broadcast a pirate radio station somewhere around there in the 90s
Blue - Portland Underground. Small venue had some big shows early 90s. Top floor is where I swear I saw Econochrist play. But it's an office building. Maybe confused
Yellow. OBryant Square aka Paranoid Park. Skateboarders and street drugs. I got "chased" by AF Nazis here. Probably more like I ran my fat ass up the street after this girl I knew screamed "run!" And they probably just laughed. I didn't look back. I think it's demolished now.
White arrow- up the block toward the Galleria. Second floor toilet was really cruisy. Careful of cockblocking rent-a-cops. Kiosk by cafe I think was only place downtown to buy pipe to smoke pot
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eyesfromhell · 9 months
Text
The worldbuilding in Nimona is incredibly stupid, if you forget they're living under a fascist regime designed to elevate the knights
A lot of things about this movie's world are contradictory or just plain stupid, because the government is built on a fantasy that knights, and specifically Gloreth's knights' descendants, are great heroes
Why are only descendants of knights are allowed to be knights? Supposedly if Gloreth trained some random people to be knights, then everyone could be trained to be knights, right? But if their role is bullshit + they get tons of glory, it's "better" to make it exclusive to their children (their children get all the glory and no outsiders who have less reason to keep quiet will see the problems with the system).
How come Bal and the other knights in training never looked outside the walls? It's their job to protect the walls, right? Well no, their job is to have all the fame and (probably) power, it doesn't matter that they don't do anything, so long as there are no monster attacks. It's probably better for them to patrol the city, that way they don't look outside the walls + they are seen by the populace protecting the city.
Why is Bal, who "earned the sword", who just finished the prestigious knight school, which seems to start when he's a wee lad, is just barely competent at fighting, and incompetent at basically everything else he needs to do throughout the movie? Of course he didn't learn anything at nepo baby academy. They probably did fights on TV and that's it.
Why are people who just finished knight school leading squads? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ probably more important that Gloreth's descendant is front and center than anyone who knows the job, specifically because the job is looking good.
Two of the times Bal was caught he was just beaten up a bunch by knights, which is weird for cops to do, except it tracks.
The only thing I'm confused about is the benevolent queen. It makes sense that fascist will overthrow a monarch that steps out of line, but my problem lies with her actions - why did she step out of line in this specific way? If she is in favor of the aristocracy, then letting a guy with less personal stakes in on their secret is dangerous to their aristocracy. If she is against the system then just showing the populace that outside is safe and knights are bullshit will do, and knighting commoners could strengthen the system.
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