#or commenting on how I'm preparing something

[straw-hat-moro]

@rufflet sorry, couldn't reply in the comments, and didnt want to reference your comment without you knowing.

I actually seen this happen. Kinda. I work as a librarian, people can print their documents here. That's how I sort of found myself helping this elderly guy whose preparing to sue his sister (and some other people). I am no lawyer, so I can't tell if he has actual case, but so far, he's building his argument using ChatGPT.

I was trying to explain to him, that the machine lies. That it doesnt think. But as long as it says something that suits his interests, he doesn't care. I told him to at least ask ChatGPT for sources, so he did. And yes, it is referencing laws of my country, but no matter how hard I try, I just couldn't justify its interpretation of the law (tho, I am just a mere librarian and no lawyer). He is hiring a lawyer for the actual court, so I am continuing to help him, mostly with formatting the documents, so the actual lawyers take him semi-seriously at least and no longer comment on the validity of his arguments. I am hoping that one of the lawyers will break though his stubborn trust, but since he already complained that two different lawyers gave him two different opinions on whether was something legal or not (during what I imagine was the first consultation of the potential case), I don't have very high hopes.

So yes, people using "but ChatGPT said so" arguments is already happening even in non English speaking countries. This is confirmation bias on steroids. This fake news all over again. We're walking in circles and I don't have a goddamn idea how to get out.

It makes sense that we want to make our lives easier. Hell, I could argue that most of our development as humans is based on making our lives easier. The further away the negative consequences are, however, the more likely we're to make bad decisions. Not mentioning that most of us would never admit to ourselves that we would fall victim to them: "Oh yeah, maybe I'm not using critical thinking when letting ChatGPT do stuff for me, but that doesn't mean I am becoming more gullible. That would never happen to me."

And do we even know the right way to teach and develop critical thinking? I always see reading being cited as one of the best ways to do it, but is it actually? I've read bunch of books, I know tons and tons of random trivia that I can use to compare to the information I am taking in and yet I don't consider myself to be that good of a critical thinker (and not, this is not some attempt to humbly persuade you that my being modest I actually AM able to think critically, I genuinely believe that I am just that gullible). Do we even have the ability to be critical of the information we get all the time? Aren't we, as humans, built to be able to trust others? We developed as social creatures, if we were inherently distrustful or even paranoid, we wouldn't do that. We want to believe what others are telling us simply because we don't have the time, the energy, the instincts to doubt them, especially if what they say already fits within our belief system.

In other words, we are kinda fucked and we can only hope that the AI that will rule us all one day will be merciful.

Why are you using chatgpt to get through college. Why are you spending so much time and money on something just to be functionally illiterate and have zero new skills at the end of it all. Literally shooting yourself in the foot. If you want to waste thirty grand you can always just buy a sportscar.

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

ngl I am a little annoyed with how the good faith response to criticism from fans who liked the show is often "i get why you didn't like that but canon is what you make it! You can pick and choose!"

like, I get it, and I plan to, and if nothing else it's a much more mature response than I've got from other people, but it really doesn't address my two biggest issue with the show at all:

Yes, I can ignore that it ever happened to characters that I like, but the show is still out there with all those odd misogynist and racist messages in the writing and casting unadressed. And at best, it is reinforcing a bunch of industry stereotypes, and it's not unique in that of course - but with the way the show is being lauded rn, I'm genuinely worried that a lot of people are seeing harmful things they believe to be true given the stamp of "revolutionary and progressive, actually". People are falling for the virtue signalling, and it's not a push in a good direction. To be fair, I've often got this comment when I was criticising narrative decisions that were at least somewhat removed from those issues... but idk stuff like the changed backstory and the removal of Bodhi and Jyn from the larger narrative is still part of that problem.

There was already so much potential in the backstories that were implied in the movie and the supplemental publications (which were canon for half a decade, so anyone wanting to argue with me about how "Gilroy didn't have to use your headcanons, grow up" can shut up right away, thank you). And not only is it a huge bummer that we didn't see any of that explored, and not only is it extremely annoying that Andor and Rogue One do not add up to a satisfying whole - it also means we will now never get any of these stories outside of fandom. Had Andor not been made, or been deemed (correctly) too expensive and disappeared into a drawer, Disney would not have resisted the urge to make more money off these characters forever. And if a show had been deemed too expensive, or not buzzy enough - we might have had a novel, or even a series of novels, and the characters might have shown up in other franchises. And yeah, we can still have these stories in fandom, and that's great... but this means that these stories will now only ever reach the people already searching for the crumbs. Stories like the one known former Separatist on the Rebellion's side, stories of the one good guy who was thoroughly broken down into doing whatever people told him to for that same, much less unambiguously good Rebellion? The one story of a soldier and a cog in the machine for whom breaking away from a bad system was actually hard, and not just an easy choice he made in the opening act of his first movie? That will not be a part of Star Wars in the public eye - maybe never. And much as I love and support fanworks (which almost always offer something better than the canon stuff if you know where to look!), I think it's legitimate to be angry at the decisions that were made here. Star Wars already told every conceivable version of a Han Solo-esque storyline. There was so much narrative and political interest that was lost here.

No criticism of the show is attacking the community any individual person built connecting to someone else over how they liked it. And the show had its moments, and a lot of people worked very hard on it (and others wouldn't even watch a two-hour film to prepare).

But I still think at the end of it all, it's legitimate to say that between what was canon before and could have been turned into a show or a novel and what we got in the end, I think we got a very short end of the stick. And "you can just ignore it" doesn't help with that. It's about the iffy messages and the lost potential, it's not a lack of ability to compartmentalise when I write my next fic or read someone else's. I'm not complaining because I think I have to delete all my fics and bookmarks because they're not canon anymore. Hell, I've been ignoring a canon ending to write fic for years - why stop now?

I'm complaining because there was so much potential here, and instead we got a show that is so murky in its supposed "progressive revolution" that right-wing pundits and mainstream progressive media alike try to claim it for their own views, with a story that is far less satisfying and cohesive than the one we already had.

[icrytearsofsadness]

💍 Blind Marriage au? Sounds fun!

a more fleshed-out version of this for everyone who commented "where's the rest" and of course for you, lovely anon

Billy Hargrove always knew Neil had it out to get him. Was just waiting for the day, really. The disownment wasn't a surprise. Billy was 19. Billy had been prepared for that. Honesty he was more surprised it hadn't happened sooner. It was fine. Better, even.

But the fucking FAFSA was what was going to get his ass? Seriously?

"Christ," Billy muttered to himself, his clicking on his laptop getting faster with irritation. "What part of 'I'm disowned' don't you get?" And even before the big chop to the last thread of their relationship, Neil wasn't going to help pay for college anyway. No-way, no-how. At least not now, not anymore, not after Neil had found out what Billy's major was. He should have fucking lied and said engineering or something. He'd gotten away with siphoning one whole year of tuition off the asshole, but that well had dried the fuck up. So, like, where was Billy's government funding. Somewhere up this stupid form's ass.

Billy clicked anxiously through the options to prove that his dad wasn't going to pay for uni. Be 26... he was not waiting that long. Master's, nope - he was applying for undergrad, seriously? Orphan, veteran, parent, homeless...

Well, shit. It looked like the easiest box to check on this godforsaken list was to be married.

As of today, are you married?

Which meant he had to get married before he got his offer of financial aid for next year. Which was in... fuck, in August.

"Any chance of a whirlwind summer romance?" Billy snarked to himself, shutting the laptop a bit harder than was necessary. This fucking sucked. But since he wasn't going to start living on the streets and he didn't have nine months to suddenly become a father, this was kind of the only option.

Billy sighed, opening his phone and propping it on his desk. He immediately cringed at his reflection in the camera.

"At least look like someone you'd wanna marry," he mumbled, reaching up to fix his hair a little. Nothing he could do about the dark circles under his eyes, but oh well. He undid a few buttons on his shirt, checked his reflection again. Passable. "This is so fucking stupid."

He clicked record anyway.

"Hi. If you're seeing this and you know me in real life, just... scroll. Yeah. Okay." He sighed. "I'm Billy, and I need to get married in the next two months for Fafsa reasons. I just got disowned and I need to, like... prove it, and the easiest option is getting married unless I want to suddenly become an orphan, so. I'll make a google form or something and if you wanna get married, fill that out. Add a photo or something so I know you're not someone's mom trying to sleep with a teenager, yes, it's happened before, yes, this is necessary. Benefits include claiming financial independence, a pretty decent roommate for life, tax stuff... uh, this, if you're into that sort of thing," he adds, gesturing vaguely to himself with a half-hearted attempt at one of his signature grins. "You gotta be over 18, obviously, and in LA cause that's where my college is. Uh... follow along to see if I get married, I guess."

This was so stupid and embarrassing. No one was going to see this, let alone respond to it. Still. He was kind of out of options, so he uploaded the video anyway.

Steve Harrington had turned into one of those people Robin used to joke about. What was it - bedrotter? Doomscroller? A bit of both, for flavor?

It wasn't his fault, it was just that everyone had up and left. Steve had been here for two full years, just working stupid jobs. The first year had been good. He'd shared every job with his best friend in the whole world, and it had been so beautiful. Until Robin inevitably went off to college to study linguistics - who could have seen that coming. She'd gotten crazy scholarships, her anxious mom was proud, it was good for her to get out of Hawkins. Steve was so happy for her.

But he'd been alone here for a year now and still hadn't really done anything. And his parents had given him a grace year to get his act together, and he still didn't, which meant he got the punishment rich kids only dreamt about in their nightmares: Cut. Off.

Ouch.

Steve was fine, though. He was handling it really well, actually. He had a job (true) and an apartment (barely) and friends (singular) and a life (lie).

And he spent pretty much every free hour just rolling around in bed on his phone, but no one needed to know that.

Honestly his landlord had mostly taken pity on him. Steve was sure even this tiny dump was worth more than he was renting for, and Steve's contract was short as fuck. Even his landlord seemed to think he'd be leaving for college at the end of the summer, and had insisted on a "trial period" of a few months instead of signing him for a year.

Again. fucking. Ouch. Because Steve didn't even graduate high school. He'd gotten his GED so like, he was fine, but. He didn't have SAT scores or a beautiful essay or money. So college wasn't really in the plans.

Which left him mindlessly scrolling instagram like a loser.

Until he got caught on a video of a young man - a beautiful, clearly exhausted, ridiculously charming young man.

The first time around, Steve didn't even process what was being said, too busy staring at his pretty hair and eyes, the tired little grins he flashed the camera that made Steve's heart thump, the erratic gestures with his big hands. The second time around, he managed to actually listen.

I'm Billy, and I need to get married in the next two months.

At first, Steve kind of balked. Listened to the pitch with growing incredulity. This was crazy. This guy was going to get married to whoever fucking offered? Jesus. And Steve couldn't just relocate to LA, all the way across the country, so he was about to save the video for... reasons and then scroll along when he noticed the view count.

Three million people had seen this thing. Somehow, this Billy guy had been graced by the algorithm and he had tens of thousands of comments.

Steve couldn't help himself. He went to the guy's profile. Scrolled through a little, shamelessly checking him out. He posted kind of a lot for just a normal guy, a few times a month. Lots of pictures. God this guy looked good. He seemed to prefer to wear as little as humanly possible, and Steve sure wasn't complaining. Surfing videos... beach volleyball... damn. One kind of sweet photo of Billy with a redhead girl in a headlock. She looked to be about Dustin's age, glaring and shoving at a grinning Billy who seemed to be holding her with very little issue. Siblings, definitely, though they didn't look much alike.

And there at the top, a link to a google form.

Well, fuck, why not. Based on the view count of that video, there was no way Billy was gonna see it, anyway.

[sweetea-rosey]

Please, Lord, let me consume food around my family without it being commented on 🙏🏻

[fleetingsonghurricane]

Suuuper late to the party (in fact I don't know if it's still happening), but I'd like to add, does anyone remember how she kinda mumbles before Mary's wedding, that she doesn't remember hers?

While one could argue that it's been over two decades and one forgets. I'd like to point out that it fits perfectly to the comment that she didn't fall in love blindly. She knew exactly what she was getting into. It has always been a transaction, something she's probably been prepared for her whole life or most of her teenage years. The fairytale wedding hadn't been important. Something she might wish for later on, after she realised that a wedding and this relationship could be more for her and Robert.

I think that she loved Robert only meant she chose him, instead of a baron or someone else. She was very much aware that her feelings didn't matter in the sense of she didn't have to marry an English man, if she didn't love him. She wasn't given a choice, but she took the little power she had and tried to find someone who wouldn't make her life miserable.

And while I'm rambling, if anyone still cares, I also think it makes a lot of sense that words aren't her love language. After all, when you've been shipped off to a new country for a transaction and are alone there, constantly criticised and doubted by your mother in law and probably the whole society, does it really matter if your mother says she loves you in a letter that arrives when what you've written about probably isn't the most important thing anymore?

But you know what does one make feel loved? A hug. a stolen glance. Robert smiling at her, before he was able to identify his feelings as love. Physical reminders of being seen and loved and needed and not just a burden and a bank.

I think it's really easy to romanticise their relationship, because it is romantic and the backbone of the show. But before it became romantic, before there was love, there was a lot of trauma for a young woman, who was nothing more than a pawn in some weird power games no one included her in. Who in S1 realises her oldest daughter is facing the chance of being caught up in something similar. Is a quickly said I love you really meaningful or is it protecting her, dragging a dead body across the whole house or your husband coming to your bed, even though it's not proper? (I know not the same situations, but I hope you get what I mean.)

Anyway if you made it till here, thanks for reading my ramblings about Cora and thanks for giving me inspiration to write about her!

i just read ur post about the cora/robert scene in a new era and i’m literally begging you to talk more about your thoughts on how cora is bad at expressing sincere emotions !! that didn’t really click for me until i read ur post but now it makes PERFECT sense and i need to hear more 😩

~hears the distant echo of Robert’s line “Sometimes, Cora, you can be curiously unfeeling” from S2 & nods sagely~

Yes. Julian’s had this aspect of her character pegged from nearly the very beginning. Perhaps even S1E1.

*sips tea & clears throat*

Oh boy, where to begin? First by calling upon @randomabiling , @modernamericangirl , and @thedowntonhistorian who are all so much more eloquent than I am, and whose ideas are so intermingled with my own at this point that I’m not sure whose is whose anymore.

First of all, this isn’t to say that we don’t think Cora feels emotions. She does. But we’ve analyzed again and again how totally inept she is at expressing them, in particular sincere emotions of love, though it isn’t limited there. This is something we noticed, gosh, probably seasons and seasons ago (years, as we are some of the grandmothers of this fandom ha!)

We notice how, when there is any sort of real heaviness to any sort of emotion, she tends to lighten it or sometimes downright change the subject.

This has to come from her station, yes, and her upbringing, and I’m sure the sort of quiet trauma of essentially giving up her entire world at a very fundamental age for adult development (18-20 depending on Julian’s mood) for a man she knew did not love her the way she was in love with him.

But, think of every Cora scene you can. She never really tells anyone she loves them. It’s obvious, of course, but to verbalize that sort of vulnerable emotion is difficult for her. The other upstairs characters do. Even Violet. She outright says she loves Mary. Robert tells Cora and his daughters. Matthew and Mary, yep. Edith? Yeah, she tells Bertie. But Cora does not. She smiles, she holds people’s hands and touches at their wrists, but the only time she ever says she loves someone is when she tells Mary in S1 when Mary is having a bit of a meltdown. That’s it.

In fact, she actively tries to neutralize the moments where saying ‘I love you’ happens or should happen.

This doesn’t at ALL mean she doesn’t feel it, but that she’s so in love and feels so deeply that it’s hard for her to say it without losing composure. And she has to maintain some feeling of control? Maybe? (Lots to conjecture on that note.)

Examples of teasing/unable to be sincere:

1. Robert gives that really sweet anniversary speech at dinner to which Lord Gillingham is all “awww that was really nice” and she responds “if only it were true.” Self-deprecating, yeah. But she could’ve answered ANY other way. Even a “Yes.”

2. When Robert is panting after rolling around his bedroom floor with a man who was literally trying to go to bed with her, Cora’s response to his VERY apparent anger (which, okay, he can be a Donk, but let’s cut him a little slack on that one), is “Golly, what a night!” Honey, what? Are you that bad at reading the room? No. You can’t just brush off strong emotions!

3. Or like when her husband is, y’know, bleeding out onto the dining room floor and he thinks he’s dying and he wants his last words to be that he’s “loved [her] very, very much” she doesn’t even say she loves him back! She is SO shaken that she barely manages “this isn’t it. We won’t let this be it.” She snaps at Violet over Marigold, totally unnecessarily in the next scene, and even Violet is like, “what the hell? Can we just focus on Robert?” When they’re pulling away after the ambulance, Cora is turned almost entirely towards the window of the car, not next to her daughters. Too much feeling. Too much. (Also my headcanon that her go-to strong emotion is nearly always anger because it makes her feel a sense of control in a situation she has no control over.)

4. When Isis goes, and Robert is sad and says AGAIN to her that he loves her, pretty plainly, “two people who love her, and each other, very much on either side,” she could’ve totally responded with a “yes; very much” or even a nod, but she barely manages to look up at him and says some weird thing about how she hopes when she dies she’ll be surrounded by loved ones. Robert is visibly NOT okay with that response (lol). But what she does manage to do is take his hand. (That’s her little I love you signal to EVERYONE, by the way.)

5. I’ve already discussed in length the Bricker scene where she chokes up in admitting that no one could take Robert’s place (though in not even those words), and Robert is so moved by this that he physically shrinks back and you can see the anger leave him. But does she edge into “I love you” next? No. Oh no, no. She pushes out a tired “very well!” and instigates anger time because feelings of deep love are Too Much!

6. Lastly, the DA2 scene sums it all up, too. “We aren’t sad people.”

Honey, you just told your husband that you’re probably dying of cancer and he’s sobbing because life is really screwing him over from every direction, and your response is “We aren’t sad people” as he’s crying???

But, the thing is, it isn’t to Robert, that line. It’s for herself. She’s not a sad person. She doesn’t let emotion get in her way, get the better of her. Is it because it caused her nearly a year of deep unhappiness when her husband did not return her love? Maybe. Is it because she was trained up by her ambitious mother to be totally and completely scheming to get ahead? Perhaps. Is she really just a realist and Robert is the romantic out of the two. Yeah, it does seem that way. But the fact remains that for her to even use the word ‘love’ about someone specifically (or at all, with various exceptions of generality) is unusual in the entirety of the series. In the garden scene, when she says “I loved you from the start,” Robert’s expression is one of shock, really. Like he’s realizing the enormity of the moment. Like an, “oh my god, she really is dying.” And then she trips into teasing and smiling again, though it NOT a smiling sort of life event.

You also see the moment the dam breaks for her, the most raw emotion we’ve ever seen of her (outside of Sybil) when she says “and then love came.” And then after he kisses her, and he tells her she’s been everything to him, her expression is so full of love and joy, then ZOOP “hope we can get tickets on the blue train!” Or is it the fact that she’s said ‘love’ three separate times in the space of two minutes and cannot keep going or she won’t be able to take it?

I think this may all be because her loving him is NOT what they say, or what they have to say. It’s a given. It’s something unsaid and established from years and years ago and to broach the subject is uncomfortable and creates feelings of shame in Robert. But Robert needs to pour out his expressions of love because he felt he owes that to her. As a sort of way to erase his shame, his penance of sorts for pursuing her dishonestly is to remind her that he does love her now. And Cora lets him because she loves him. She comes across as this passive recipient of his love, the vessel for it, but she isn’t really. She’s really the more physical of the two of them. Anyway, I’ve drifted into an enormous tangent.

I’ll sum this mess up by inviting my ladies who I tagged to pipe up, or anyone else for that matter. I’d love to hear your thoughts, too, anon. Over-analyzing characters is my favorite pastime. Sincerely.

[feroluce]

Randomly consumed today by the thought of henghill cuddles, but like from a specific point in their relationship, like after they've only recently started laying in the same bed together.

It's something that takes them a long time to work up to; they both have nightmares, and yeah, Dan Heng is a Vidyadhara and he can heal himself beyond anything Boothill could accidentally do to him, but still. Boothill is made of metal now. He's heavy. It wouldn't take much, just a single flailing limb to cause some damage. He still gets up after Dan Heng falls asleep, and sneaks down into the guest cabin in one of the other cars.

But he'll lay in bed with Dan Heng until then. At first Boothill would always try to situate a blanket between them, because well. Metal isn't exactly pleasant to cuddle. But more and more lately, he's noticed Dan Heng keeps worming his way around their soft barrier and just kind of...rubbing his hand along him? Open palm up the curve of his side, across the planes of his chest, into the star-shape at his solar plexus, down the plates of his abdomen, back to his side again. Fingertips tap soundlessly against metal, or press into dents and divots, or smooth over old scars in the steel.

"Ya don't hav'ta do that, ya know."

"Does it bother you?"

Dan Heng's hand has already stopped, settling somewhere on the futon, neutral ground. Boothill clarifies that no, it doesn't bother him. But he can't feel any of it. He only knows he's doing it because he can see the motion out of the corner of his eye. Dan Heng doesn't need to go through the extra effort to do things for him like he would someone with a normal human body.

And Dan Heng goes quiet, just long enough that Boothill gets curious and turns to look at him over his shoulder. He has the cute little furrow between his brows, like when he's thinking.

And then he opens that pretty mouth of his and says, "That's alright, I think I'm doing it for myself, anyway" and Boothill nearly wheezes because wow, Dan Heng is almost never quite that honest when it comes to himself fdklsajlkd

Boothill cackles in surprise and asks point blank what he means, because what could he be getting out of that? Given the implied permission, Dan Heng's hand starts it's usual route again. Side, chest, solar plexus, abdomen, side. Boothill can practically hear him chewing on his words.

"I like that you're warm," is what he finally says, and Boothill suddenly feels like a bullet has just grazed something vital. "All the processes you run increase your temperature," Dan Heng's hand fans out across a span of steel and he holds it there, like he's soaking up the heat. "And your metal is smooth, it feels pleasant to touch," his fingertips move in circles, slip into a divot perfectly sized, rub back and forth. Boothill silently wills one of his cooling fans threatening to open up to stay closed.

"I like how you feel under my hands. That's all." Headshot! No recovery possible.

"...Suit yerself, then," and Boothill quickly turns back over before Dan Heng can see it in his face, how close he just hit to his heart.

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[roscoehamiltons]

this is something that i've been thinking about and is it true that andretti is a well known name in america, to the point where the avg person knows them more than bigger f1 names?

the thing is that it's people who are already motorsports fans that are saying that everyone knows who andretti are, and like. of course they would say that, because they're motosports fans. they would already know who andretti is, because andretti is a big name in american motorsports. my skepticism comes from whether or not someone who doesn't follow motorsports would've heard of andretti before and be more familiar with them than some of the more popular f1 drivers

[mangled-by-disuse]

I feel like it's so easy to fall into thinking "how in the world did anyone figure this out?" partly because of the temptation to view the finished product as, you know. The Process. it's a form of irreducible complexity, where to learn to make paper, you have to have found all the steps.

but, like. maybe you make cloth, and you realise this plant sheds and felts easily if you weave from it and then wash it. maybe you cook it, to see what happens, and find it sticks together. maybe you come from a culture that already has a habit of pounding starchy foods, making them into flour, and making solids out of the runoff - soy, rice, curds. maybe you happen to think "oh what would happen if i did that?"

maybe when you're drying crops for the winter you notice that a bunch of them stick together, and that they do it more the more you pound them. you think it's cool. you try to make something that holds together. it works. you tell your mate. he tells his kid. they try it out. someone says "could we make clothes from this?" oh sure but we'll have to make it thinner.

maybe you're cooking fibres up for something else and you pass a spoon through it and the film sticks and comes off all in one piece. hey, that's neat. wonder what we could use that for?

maybe you make really shitty paper for centuries because you're using the wrong plant, or only washing it once or twice, or not pounding it fine enough. but it's interesting. people keep thinking it could be useful, but people also think it's neat. hey, we write now! wouldn't it be great if paper was smoother, whiter, flatter, easier to store? what if i try this extra step, this new ingredient?

iteration, my dudes. everything worth a damn is iterative. very few things in this world are invented in their final form. it's been millennia. people have had a cultural and political and financial incentive to iterate, sure - but also, people like to innovate. people like to play with ideas, try things that strike them as interesting. and shitty paper is still useful. making things into blocks is useful. finding that you can wet things and dry them out and change their properties is useful.

idk the answer to "how in the world did they figure [X] out" is less often "a wave of pure genius" and more often: over centuries or millennia, iteratively, through generations of better and worse products.

...except manioc root that one's still kinda baffling to me.

how do people make papers for traditional painting and calligraphy in the past by chinese artist 山白shan bai

[luvkimi]

satoru gojo—the strongest sorcerer—is an absolute softie when it comes to his wife.

the man could kill everyone in japan if he wanted to, yet when you're around, he's as dangerous as a kitten.

and that confused everyone around him.

how was it that even a murmur of your name would make the famous gojo gush and drop everything to talk about you? he could be in the midst of fighting a curse, but if his phone buzzes and your name is on the screen? that curse might as well accept its fate or be prepared for him to be on call with you for the remainder of the fight.

"toru, are you busy?" "not at all, baby—" his words would be cut off as the curse he was fighting attempted to land a hit on him, and the call would only fill with the sound of crashes before you realized what was happening. "are you seriously in the middle of a mission!?" your question remained unanswered for a second before you heard satoru laugh, "i mean, i was, but did you need something? money? sweets? a photo of your handsome husband?" "SATORU!"

it's clear to everyone that gojo is in love with you. he wouldn't just take a bullet for you, but rather a whole nuclear bomb if needed. he's willing to risk everything for you—even his job.

if he's in a meeting and you call him, he's picking up the phone no matter how many dirty looks he gets. what are they going to do about it? he's the strongest, but with the way he acts around you, you'd think otherwise.

his students have noted that every time you come into his classroom, he'd grin like a high schooler in love. he practically has heart eyes that you can see through his blindfold.

"gojo-sensei?" yuji's voice rang out in the classroom, "yes, yuji?" gojo's tone was filled with boredom as the man was leaning back in his chair—feet on top of his desk while he lifted a finger to pull back his blindfold. yuji was seen with megumi and nobara, and all three of them were pointing at the door. where you, his lovely wife, stood with a bento box. "you forgot your lunch—" "MY WIFE!" the sound of gojo's chair hitting the floor echoed as you took a step back from the doorframe, yet your attempt to move out of the way was pointless as gojo barreled toward you with open arms. his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, and you let out a quiet sigh as you held the bento box up. "is my beautiful wife here to visit her husband?" "i'm here to give you your lunch, toru." "MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE LOVES ME ENOUGH TO COME VISIT ME!" while gojo continued to ramble with you still in his arms, the three students watched the scene with narrowed eyes. "do you think she ever gets tired of him?" nobara asked bluntly, and yuji only shrugged. they continued to watch as gojo only hugged you tighter, and a soft smile appeared on your face as he continued to talk. "i don't think so..." yuji mumbled before turning his attention back to his phone, and the others did the same thing. except for gojo. because his attention was on you and you only.

comments & reblogs are always appreciated !!

[nanamisgirly]

˖ 𑣲 reblogs and comments are always appreciated ma girliies <333

part.1 part.3 part.4

virgin!nerdjo barely got the tip inside you before white-hot ropes of cum were already spilling from his cock.

his face burned a deep, humiliating red, frustration twisting his features. “shit—fuck, i'm sorry, i—” he was mortified :(( this wasn't how it was supposed to go. he had reviewed the literatures (even forums!!), constructed theoretical models, simulated countless scenarios in the deep recesses of his mind—but none of them accounted for this. for failing at frame one. he buried his face in his hands, mumbling about how fucking useless he was, how he didn't deserve to touch you—

but virgin!nerdjo shut up real quick when you kissed his temple, soft and sweet, whispering that it was okay, that you could try again when he got hard. statistically, he had prepared for ridicule, for you to laugh or sigh or at least look disappointed—but instead you were kind. his chest ached, overwhelmed by the sheer improbability of it all.

you kept pressing those gently, featherlight kisses on his face as you saw sweat beading along his temples as virgin!nerdjo's mind spiraled—because what do you mean he came, and you didn't? what do you mean he got to feel good, and you didn't? not happening.

his gaze flicked to his desk, to the scattered notes, the open textbooks, the half finished equations—

virgin!nerdjo snatched his bic pen up before he could second-guess himself, adjusting his glasses (because god forbid he couldn't see a thing without them) and told you to stay still. your brows knitted in curiosity but you obeyed, eyes tracking the cool, smooth tip as he brought it to your lips. he traced them first—the same way he would annotate an important diagram. then down, slowly, as he imagined his tongue would if he wasn't still too flustered to use it. he skimmed it over your throat, down your sternum, circling each nipple before pressing the cold plastic directly against one. you whimpered—the contrast of the icy bic pen against your burning skin sent a shiver up your spine.

virgin!nerdjo continued lower, hypothesized. his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as he drags the pen over your stomach, past your belly button, until he reached the soft skin of your inner thighs. he hesitated, only for a second.

virgin!nerdjo swallowed hard, his free hand adjusting his glasses as he pressed the cold tip firmly against your swollen bud. you jerked beneath him. he took a sharp inhale before he began circling it in slow, teasing motions. his earlier embarrassment melted into something hungrier, completely focused on your helpless moans.

virgin!nerdjo ran the smooth plastic length between your slick folds—not pushing in, just gliding, experimenting, observing. he swore he could feel the warmth through the bic pen itself, feel the way it picked up your slick with every pass. 

virgin!nerdjo had a pretty shade of pink creeping down his neck as he used his trembling hand to spread your legs wider. bringing his index and middle fingers together to press against your puffy lips, trapping the bic pen between them. a choked whimper escaped your lips as your arousal smeared against the plastic, against his fingertips—warm and wet and so much—and when a choked whimper escaped your lips, his head spun.

virgin!nerdjo had never seen anything like this before—never imagined anything could be this erotic, this intoxicating. he was supposed to be the one making you feel good, right? then why did he feel like he was the one getting unraveling here? cock throbbing—still sensitive, still sticky—but already trying to get hard again.

virgin!nerdjo kept going, his movements more purposeful now, rubbing the cold tip over your clit in slow, firm circles—memorizing every little movement, every choked moan, every twitch of your hips as you desperately chased more friction.

virgin!nerdjo was losing it, breath shuddered as he pressed the tip down again, drunk on your reactions. he wanted to devour you. taste you. he was supposed to be embarrassed, supposed to be ashamed—but all he could think about was how pretty you looked like this. he wanted to combust. he wanted nothing more than to hear your little moans, and see your hips jerking. the way you whined his name was enough to send him into another full-system crash. his pupils were so blown, you could barely see the pretty shade of blue in his eyes.

virgin!nerdjo has his glasses entirely fogged up, breath coming out in short, choked little gasps. his white fluffy hair stuck to his forehead in a disheveled mess as he worked you up—over and over and over. and when you were teetering right on the edge when your moans turned high and desperate—he stopped.

virgin!nerdjo shouldn't find that hot, he wasn't even edging you on purpose!! he was just…entranced. the way your body tensed, your lips parting in frustration, fingers twitching as if you were trying not to grab his wrist and force him to keep going.

oh.

maybe virgin!nerdjo wasn't so bad at this after all.

☆゙ ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ ˚⊹ᰔ

[backinmyphase]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Thinking about how obsessed King of Curses Sukuna is with you, you, who was originally just a gift from a village.

Lord Sukuna, who is oblivious to the reason why he treats you differently, who thinks you are just the most intriguing person he had seen in years. He didn't know it was over for him the moment he saw your standing there, anger obvious behind your loosely mask. You looked at him with these challenging eyes and raised your head, making that snappy comment. Normally he would have killed you right then and there.

But he didn't. In fact he doesn't even know why he had burned down that village for you.

And now you were sitting in his estate, always with that scowl on your face.

Why did he allow you to eat with him? Why did he order you to eat with him? He doesn't know. But he didn't want you to eat without him, which he just can't explain to himself.

He couldn't explain why he made sure Uraume was watching over you. Didn't know why he gave you your own chamber, so many new clothes and why he gave you permission to go inside his library. Something inside him was just telling him that was right.

And that something inside of him was so angry to see you falling into yourself. To see you neglecting your health over weeks.

It was evening.

Like always, there was a big dinner prepared for the king and he had ordered you to eat with him. But you didn't touch your food, no you just sat there, looking at your plate to avoid his gaze. Oh, he didn't like that.

He stopped eating, narrowing his eyes on your cowering figure. "Why are you not eating."

"Not hungry." your voice was hoarse but still snappy like always.

"You need to eat."

He glanced at Uraume, who shook their head. A silent note you didn't have any sickness.

You picked at the food, but still no sign of actual eating. And god, did it drive him crazy. You were driving him crazy. Your never leaving scowl and your constant denying of everything he had laid out. He just didn't get you.

He didn't know why he even bothered. But he still spoke up.

"What is on your mind?"

You looked up at him. There was no scowl, like he thought, no there was just a shimmer of exhaustion and maybe frustration.

"What am I even doing here, my Lord?" your voice didn't have any sharp in it. "I'm no servant for you, no concubine, not even a jester or anything like that. Why am I here?"

Silence flooded the room. Because you had just asked the question Sukuna asked himself every day. Why did he even bring you here?

He was clueless. Or that was what his brain was telling him.

He inspected you, your almost pleading eyes and he didn't like how you looked at him. He didn't like the almost hopeless look in your eyes.

"Did you want to stay with these people, is it that?" he took a sip of wine.

"No, we both know it's not that." you muttered, taking a deep breath. "Why do I not work for you? Why are you so -"

He raised an eyebrow at you as you struggled to find the right word. Then you finally shook your head.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, a grin following. "You mean, why has the King of Curses not killed me yet?"

You scoffed. "Yes."

"Well you see," he stopped for a moment, before speaking again. "I find you fascinating. And I like to know what I find fascinating."

You rolled your eyes, another thing he only liked when you did it. "So I'm here to be watched like an animal because the King finds me exotic, how kind."

He started to grow impatient, he didn't know why. "You think I would let a meekly animal into my library and give them their own chambers? You think lowly of me."

You started to blink at him, confusion visible on your face. It was his turn to scoff now.

"You're fascinating because I don't get you. And I want to know you. That's why I brought you here." At least that's what he thought.

You turned completely silent, your eyes now looking down onto your plate again.

"That's why you don't 'work' for me, I don't want you to. I don't need you to." he took another sip. "You just shouldn't get your hands dirty."

He looked at you, waiting for a response. Watching how you avoided his gaze, how you gulped. For a second your eyes flicked up to look at him, but went down immediately as your eyes meet his.

"Stop." you were muttering again.

"What?"

"Staring at me like that."

"Why?" He grinned, lowering his voice. "You know I like to stare."

He saw a faint tint of blush on the part of your face he could see. You were silent for a while until you cleared your throat. "I can't eat with you staring at me like that."

. . .

"Alright, I can leave you alone to eat." he stood up. "But you have to now. Eat."

A small chuckle escaped you. "Is that an order?"

"No, it's a request." With that he turned around, leaving to go to his chambers.

You waited til he left the room to breathe. Your body finally relaxing. You looked at Uraume.

"He sounds like he is in... Does he know how he sounds?"

Uraume shook their head. "No, he has no clue. But he wants you to eat, so please do."

@thequeenofcurses

[navybrat817]

Game Nights

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Game nights in the tower are unpredictable.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Humor, mentions of violence, the team loves trolling on John, kissing, implied smut, team bonding (kind of), Thunderbolts spoilers, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Silly headcanon set in the same world as Not Exactly a Secret and part of my Tower Shenanigans. I'm not at all sorry. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Game nights typically take place on Saturdays since Fridays are reserved for movie night. Snacks and drinks are a must, but there is a drink maximum, so things don’t get too crazy or emotional. 

Bucky purposely gets John the generic brand when it’s his turn to go snack shopping and tells him to deal with it since the quality is just as good. Everyone else gets the name brand of whatever they want. 

There's a huge board with all of your names and the games listed. The tally marks are in various colors, and sometimes names are erased and replaced with affectionate nicknames. 

When John demanded to know who changed his name to “the man with a punchable face”, Bob was ready to confess, but Bucky took the blame, followed by Yelena, you, and Ava. It was a real “I'm Spartacus!” moment. 

Anyone caught cheating is on clean-up duty. You and Bucky have both cheated on the same night so you could clean up together. 

There are occasional tournaments complete with medals and trophies. The gang insisted that participation ribbons were not allowed, but you found a funny last place trophy that you had to get and everyone agreed.

The gang tries to switch it up between classic games, video games, and children's games to keep things interesting. No matter what you play there is a level of competitiveness. 

You try not to rub it in when you win a game, but you will have a subtle smirk on your face when you catch Bucky’s eye. Alexei, on the other hand, loves to yell, “In your face!” while doing air thrusts and Yelena has come close to banning her dad from game nights because of it.

If it’s girls versus boys, the girls win almost every time. The boys can't figure out how, but it might have something to do with John and Alexei both trying to be the leader, Bucky being done, and Bob just wanting to have fun. 

Bucky picks you for any game that requires a partner or teammate outside of girls versus boys, even if there is someone better suited. He doesn't care because he always wants you by his side. 

Bucky also picks two-player games for the two of you to play while the rest of the gang plays something else. Yelena often does the same thing with Bob. 

Weapons aren't allowed. That rule should've been enforced from the beginning, but John insisted after Bucky threatened to stab him during a game of Uno. 

To be fair, John kept playing Draw 4 cards and everyone knew it was a dick move. Even John knew it. 

Bucky will switch to Russian when he gets frustrated or really into a game. He didn't realize it until Yelena and Alexei replied in Russian. 

Hide-and-Seek is banned. Ava kept phasing out of her hiding spots, and you and Bucky got caught fooling around in the coat closet. 

Truth or Dare is also banned. Too personal with the questions when it was meant to be a fun night and Ava kept daring you and Bucky to kiss each other, which you did.

Bob got nervous the first time you all played Among Us, but Yelena assured him it would be fun. It ended with a chair flipped over, which is considerably tame.

Bob also goes into any shooting game prepared to lose because look who he’s playing with? He still has fun with it.

You once sweet talked Bucky into playing Dance Dance Revolution and he did well, surprising no one. So did Yelena and Ava, and not a single one of them cracked a smile while they danced.

John takes Pictionary way too seriously, and you threatened to break the easel and stab him when he raised his voice at Bob. Bucky fell in love with you a little bit more. 

Ava encouraged you to flash Bucky once when he was winning at Mario Kart. You did and he looked, but he still managed to win. 

Yelena argues with Alexei during Jenga. She doesn't need him to tell her which block to move or distract her. 

You and Bucky always end up choosing each other's cards during Cards Against Humanity. You just get each other, and you love getting a laugh out of him every time he reads your card. 

Alexei insists that karaoke should be considered a game and he always wants to sing first, which embarrasses Yelena. He once serenaded you and Bucky because, well, he’s one of your biggest supporters. 

Card games are tense and Yelena usually ends up with the most money by the end of them. She prefers Poker to Blackjack. 

Bob was so happy the first time he won Clue that he almost cried. Everyone hugged him, knowing he never got the chance to have fun game nights growing up. 

John recently made a casual comment about wanting to play games like these with his kid. No one gave him a hard time because everyone could see how much he longed for it. 

Some game nights end with yelling and broken furniture, but more often than not they end with smiles, laughter, and a sense of normalcy. It’s a nice change of pace from some of the horrors you’ve faced, and a great way to bond. 

But Bucky will still find a way to stab John if he can if only to keep him on his toes. 

BAHAHA. What do we think? Any other games? What other shenanigans do we think they get up to in and out of game nights? Let me know! Love and thanks for reading.

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ sweet, sticky, thick, and pretty ❞

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : toji wants to give you another baby

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : this is a post from my old blog but i revamped it and i really wanted to share this again because i was really proud of it. and yes, it's another breeding kink + pregnant kink. consider it a part two, since it takes place after megumi is born

toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you.

yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things.

it starts off with how he sees you coo over megumi, calling him your sweet baby. you're such a good mother, too, it's clear you'd likely be the favorite parent to that little brat.

but god, does he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid that he gave you.

the day you ask megumi what he wants for his upcoming 4th birthday at dinner, neither one of you is prepared for the words that come out of your son's mouth.

“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly as he chews on the steamed carrots, looking at you and toji. it was clear from how confident the little guy is that he's put a lot of thought into this.

“but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.”

little brat. you straight up choke, trying to stop the laugh-coughs as toji looks at his son, offended. this really is his son, because who else but you and the kid he made with you could have the nerve to say shit like that to him?

“twerp, you look just like me, you realize that, right?”

megumi huffs, looking at his dad in the cutest little glare. “that’s 'cause i'm a boy, though," he explains as if it's obvious, his precious little cheeks puffed up as he stuffs more of his food in his mouth.

"my sister has to be like mommy. you’d be an ugly girl, daddy.” toji just rolls his eyes, pinching the cheeks of the mini him, ignoring his protests. as the two bicker, you think. would it...really be that bad to have another baby? you always wanted a girl, after all, and toji took such good care of you and megumi...it couldn't be that bad. “well, uhm,” you begin, catching the attention of toji, an unfamiliar smile on your face.

there's a mischievous look on your face right now, his eyes narrowing as he waits for your response. whatever you're about to say is either going to haunt him for the next few days or make him roll his eyes at you.

“i'm sure daddy and i can work something out for you, 'gumi, but let’s think of some other things, too, m'kay?” 

ah.

you went the haunting route.

ignoring the little cheer his son let out, toji can't hide the disbelieving look that crosses his face when he processes what you just said.

'daddy'?

you've said the word, sure, usually when you talk to megumi about him. but something was different about how you said it, the way you looked at him when you said it, the barely visible flutter of your eyes...a silent promise there'd definitely be a deeper conversation about it later.

the very day megumi has a sleepover with the neighbor's kid, yuuji, toji is mentally cheering. he loves his son with all his heart, he truly does, but having a toddler in bed meant limited contact with his pretty wife.

it's only been 3 days since that little comment you made and it's been on toji's mind constantly. every time he tried to bring it up with you, megumi would interrupt and toji was not being the reason his son ended up traumatized because he overheard mommy and daddy talking about making babies in the kitchen.

"bye, gumi! make sure you behave for mr. nanami, okay? have fun with yuuji," you coo as you press two kisses to your son's cheeks, snapping toji back to the present.

"see ya, kid, be good," toji says, giving a nod of acknowledgement to nanami. megumi barely says goodbye before he runs after yuuji to the car, his run a bit awkward because of his overnight backpack.

waving goodbye to nanami, you shut the door, turning to look at toji with that smile as you.

"hi, toj."

you think you're so cute, don't you?

"hey, mama."

toji can't even lie, you are. wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants? yeah, your the cutest thing he's ever laid eyes one. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. fuck, you weren't even doing anything but he could already feel himself getting hard just from looking at you.

he's never been so whipped in his life.

"d'you wanna talk," you murmur lowly, your finger running over the thin silver chain on his neck. "we could go to the bedroom...and talk about the baby thing."

toji's eyes darken at the suggestion, knowing exactly what would happen the moment you both go into the bedroom. "yeah. think it's 'bout time we talked about it," he hums as he grips your wrist, tugging you to your room.

as soon you both step foot into the bedroom, toji hungrily presses your lips against his, letting out a deep groan. "had me thinkin' about knockin' you up again all fuckin' week, mama," toji sighs against your lips, tongue running over your lower lip.

"wanted to stuff you full so fucking bad."

feeling you sigh so prettily into the kiss, his doesn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth, hands busying themselves as they push your (his) sweats down off your hips before guiding you back to the bed.

you knew he would get excited over your comment, but you didn't think it would be to the point where he was rutting into you as he practically devoured you, feeling your back hit the bed.

“you want to give our 'gumi a sister? wanna be a mommy again," he questions, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. one of his hands slithers up under the oversized t-shirt to cup one of your tits and roughly knead it, his thumb just barely grazing over your nipple.

"wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?" 

you just hum a little breathless. your hand comes up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. he's so handsome when he's over you like this, his chain dangling right in your face.

“maaaaybe. megumi just made me think about it, 's all. you've been a good dad t' him, how could i not want to give you another one,” you coo, guiding him closer so you can press a kiss against the scar on his lip. 

“besides…”

toji grunts when he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against you so you can feel the thick, heaviness of his arousal through his sweatpants.

“don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.”

after those words leave your pretty little mouth, toji is on you as he realizes that you're 100% going to give him the worse breeding kink ever.

"'m gonna fuckin' ruin you," he growls into your ear. you aren't given a second to protest before he's ripped your panties off, complaints falling on deaf ears. the tips of his fingers gently run over your puffy pussy lips, your slick wetness coating his fingers.

"fuck, mama, you're soaked already." his eyes are focused on your face as you squirm and whimper when he swirls little circles into your clit, an evil smirk on his face. "can't wait to fill you up 'til you're dripping with my cum, doll."

you can't stop your hips from trying to grind into his hand, eyes rolling back when he teased your entrance. "toji, c'mon, baby, i need you s'bad."

"baby, you know you can't take me without prep," he coos at you. he can feel how hot and slick you are, finally, finally slipping two of his fingers inside your cunt. and oh, the way you arch your back a little bit with a pleading whine of his name is so, so pretty, you're so fucking cute.

"mmn, maybe y'don't need prep, you just sucked my fingers right in," he says huskily before pressing a little kiss to the corner of your mouth. "you wanna try, mama? wanna see if you can fit my cock in you? really gonna feel that stretch, though, babe," toji warns, knowing you can't give a sensible answer when he starts pumping his fingers in and out.

when it seems like your about to answer him, the only thing that escapes your mouth is a shaky moan, his thick fingers curling to hit just the right spot inside of you that has you gushing. unable to form words, you tug on his shirt and nod frantically, just wanting to feel toji stuffing you full.

"yeah? you wanna try?" toiji pulls his fingers out of you, chuckling when you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. he pops his fingers in his mouth, cock throbbing at the addictive taste of your cunt on his tongue. "c'mon, we're both wearing too much, let's get you outta that shirt, ma."

you waste no time throwing the shirt off, not even giving him the chance to undress you. but once your shirt is off, you're practically ripping off his stupid black t-shirt that made his pecs look fucking delicious and those damn sweatpants and boxers that hid your prize.

as you fuss over his boxers, toji takes a moment to look at you spread out on the bed before him. you still had a bit of chub on you, tummy nice and soft and cute, just how he likes it. if he knew where his phone was, he'd take a picture of you right now; frustrated, horny, naked, and pretty. all for him.

"tojiiii, stop staring and kick off your stupid boxers, you're getting on my nerves!"

you can't even look him in the eye as you say that because you're too busy staring right at his cock, a thick bead of precum formed at the tip. the lick of your lips told him everything he needed to know, but he wasn't fucking your mouth, not tonight at least.

"what? i can't look at my own wife," he asks with a raised eyebrow, biting back a laugh when you swat at his hand that pinches one your puffy nipple. "tch, so rude, doll."

before you can snap back at him, he brushes the swollen head of his cock against your slick folds, smearing your wet over the tip. that shuts you up quickly and toji has to hold back another laugh. always so fussy until he finally gives you what you want. he's spoiled you rotten.

"toji," comes a soft whine, so soft he nearly misses it. your eyes are focused between your legs, lower lips between your teeth as he teases you with his cockhead. you huff, pushing your hand against his chest to give you enough space to shift positions, knowing exactly what would get him to stop teasing you.

once you roll over, you shift so that you're face down, ass up, you hand slipping between your thighs to spread your sticky pussy open, slick dripping down your fingers. "tojiiii, please? please, baby, stop teasing an' put a baby in me...please, hubby, give your wife what she wants."

any other whines or begs are interrupted when his hand comes down hard on your ass. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick. 

when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet, each inch sinking into you stretching those tight walls just a bit more.

"holy shit...fuuck me, baby, too fucking tight, you're strangling my cock," he hisses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he gave you inch after inch.

god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it's fucking with his head, his wife was gonna be the death of him.

both of you moan once he's all the way inside. you feel so full, his cock is too fucking big it doesn't make any sense and you genuinely think you should've let him fully prep you...but shifting your hips just a little bit has his tip pressing against something sinful. you whine and reach back to grab at one of his hands on your waist, turning to shoot him a mean glare as you demand, “stop stalling n’ knock me up, toji." 

who is he to deny what his wife asks?

using a hand to steady himself on the headboard, his hips begin to move slowly, pulling out just an inch and pushing forward again. "so tight 'n' warm..." each thrust hits deeper and more powerful than the last as toji begins to pick up speed, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you.

it's almost too much, but you don't want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth.

“shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ.”

now you really wish you stayed on your back, then at least you could've slapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up. you drop your head down against the mattress with a moan, starting to move your hips to match his thrusts, the room filling with the sound of skin slapping on skin.

“fuuck, c'mon, throw that ass back on me, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” 

he starts pounding into you harder when he feels you tightening up on him. the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushing him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full.

he coos when he sees you starting to scramble up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes.

"tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it," he coos at you, following you up the mattress.

you never change, always swearing up and down that you wouldn't run from his cock, that you'd be able to take him. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”

toji may sound like he’s still put together, but he’s just thankful you can’t see his face since yours is pressed into the pillows at the top of the bed.

you can’t see how he’s barely holding himself together, trying his hardest not to let himself go too much. the last thing he needs is to cum before you, knowing that while you wouldn’t mind, he’d be annoyed for breaking his streak.

he’s brought back into the present when you manage to turn your head a little, able to look him in the eye, and god, does he love what he sees.

your mouth is open as you moan for him, eyes lidded and focused on only him. he sees the little tears gathered in them, not quite spilling over but the fact that they’re there tells him he’s the one making you feel that good. 

“tuh-toji, ’m gonna cum, gonna cum—!”

"yeah?" hearing you moan so sweetly for him only makes toji smirk, fingers digging into your hips as he helps you meet each thrust. “gonna make a mess f'me already? poor little cunt can't handle gettin' fucked so good? mmn, shit, 's okay, baby. let go for me, mama, cum on daddy’s cock.” 

"t-tojiiiii," you shakily moan, nearly ripping the sheets as you cum suddenly. it was his voice, the way he tried to sound put together but you could hear how desperate he was to feel your pussy clamp down on him and get his cock nice and messy.

toji's deep, guttural moans mix with your cries when he unexpected is pushed over the edge, the way you desperately grinded back against him causing him to swear under his breath as he lost his pace, groaning your name as he emptied into you. it felt so hot, the pulsating warmth of his tip nudging against your cervix paired with his thick cum filling you up dizzying the both of you. 

you expect some kind of snarky comment from toji, trying to catch your breath so you could reply when he said it. but nothing comes (you have to stop yourself from laughing at the pun). you turn to look back, sighing when toji pulls out of you. usually he stayed inside, leaning down to tease you for cumming so fast...but he didn't.

something was wrong and for some reason, you felt like your pussy was in danger.

“toj…?”

he didn’t answer. he probably didn’t even hear you, not with the way he was looking so intensely at the mess between your thighs. the mess he made. toji doesn’t know what comes over him, his hands practically moving on their own as he moves you over onto your back, then moving his hands down to your sensitive hole and spreading. 

the scene in front of him just breaks him. you let out a soft whine, hips gently rolling into his hands. his eyes stay stuck between your legs—sharp and focused—as they watch the thick globs of his hot cum drip out of your hole and down onto the bed sheets.

the groan that leaves him is sinful, and once you make eye contact with him, you realize how fucked you are. he’s hard again, almost making you believe he didn’t cum if it weren’t for the creamy sheen of his cum on his throbbing dick and the hotness of his dripping out of you. before you know it, toji’s climbing over you, making sure your legs get pushed over to his shoulders as he pushes you into a mating press.

yeah.

you're fucked.

you keep making eye contact, and now that he’s so close to you, you see how crazed he looks. his eyes, completely black due to his blown pupils, have an unhinged look in them, and the half smirk on his face only makes you worry about your ability to walk the next day.

“t-toji, if you need a break to calm down, then-oh!” 

he shuts you up by pushing himself inside you, loving how your eyes cross so prettily. he has you now, you can't run away from the overstimulating feeling of him fucking you in this position. and when you feel his hands come up and lock together on your head to really keep you in place, you feel yourself gush all over his cock at the simple display of how strong he was compared to you.

you're so fucked.

all you can do is moan and cry out his name, hands grabbing whatever part of him they could reach. but he doesn't let you break eye contact, keeping you close to his face so he could see every little expression. and fuck, does he like what he sees.

“t-tojiii, t’ deep, t’ deep!”

“wan’ me t’ stop? t’ stop fuckin’ this messy hole?”

“fuck, y-you stop, and I’ll c-choke the shit out of yo-ouh!”

“that’s it, take it, take daddy’s cock, mama, lemme breed you.”

everything about this position is driving both of you crazy.

the closeness has you reeling, the way toji just cannot bring himself to break eye contact, needing to see what he was doing to you.

his thick cock is hitting deep, almost too deep, with the way each thrust of his hips causes the tip to press into the sweet spot inside you every. single. time. 

he has you for the whole day and the whole night, he's going to make sure you're stuffed entirely and doesn't plan on stopping until either you tell him you need a break or until he can't cum anymore. and even then, he doesn't think anything will be able to get him out of your cunt.

but with the way he just moaned into your mouth, thick spurts of more cum coating your insides…and the way he didn’t get soft, instead pressing you even deeper into the mattress as he began to pound into you with a groan of how much he loved your pussy…

you were sure it would be a while until he was done with you.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[theconcealedweapon]

Neurotypical Person: "Just talk to people. Stop being afraid of rejection. The only way you'll fail is if you don't even try. Have some confidence."

Autistic Person: (asks whatever questions they can think of from a prepared list and the conversation ends up being awkward and forced)

Autistic Person: (infodumps about their special interest and gets labeled as annoying)

Autistic Person: (comments on something they observe and gets labeled as judgmental)

Autistic Person: (approaches random people in random places, not realizing that there are some places where people don't expect to be approached, and gets threatened)

Autistic Person: (talks to someone, misses a subtle cue that they want to be left alone, and gets labeled as disrespectful of boundaries)

Autistic Person: (tries to join someone's conversation and gets labeled as an eavesdropper)

Autistic Person: (teases someone as a joke because they've seen that that's how a lot of people interact with each other, not realizing that they don't have enough of a connection with this person to do that, and gets labeled as mean)

Autistic Person: (tries to talk to someone who's already talking to someone else and gets labeled as rude for interrupting, and waiting until they're alone to avoid interrupting isn't an option because that rarely ever happens)

Autistic Person: (approaches someone or faces in their general direction while trying to think of what to say to them, and gets labeled as a creep for hovering or staring)

Autistic Person: (talks to someone too often and gets labeled as clingy)

Autistic Person: (talks to someone, by some miracle it works and this person actually enjoys the conversation, but now they have to do it again and again and again, and they eventually run out of things to talk about or do something wrong)

Autistic Person: "I don't get it. I talked to people. I did exactly what I was told to do. And I didn't say anything sexual, anything gross, anything about death, or anything else that would be considered 'obvious'. But it didn't work. It can't be because I did something wrong, because I followed the advice exactly and so many people insisted that that's all I have to do. There must be something wrong with me. Maybe I'm just unattractive."

[woantohae]

In my arms || (Bob Reynolds x reader)

Summary: The Thunderbolts are constantly on missions, busy trying to do good and save whoever they can. One of them was Bob Reynolds, the defenseless yet powerful man who is part of this team and family. However, he doesn't participate in these missions so he can continue practicing controlling his powers.

Despite telling them he's capable, the team prefers to give him more time to get used to them, until one mission, when a member of the team is injured. And all Bob can think about is the fury he feels when he hears Y/N being hurt. And how much he wants revenge on whoever did it.

content warnings: angst, he fell first and he fell harder, "avengers" tower, fluff, thunderbolts being a family, violence, curse words, SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS*, Yelena and Bob being like brother and sister, "touch her and you die" trope.

Author's note: I WATCHED THUNDERBOLTS*!!!! And let me tell you, it was better than i imagined. Honestly, it became one of my favorites and it can easily be in my top 3 of Marvel movies. I just can't describe the experience with enough words, but the waiting was totally worth it ✨️ AND THE POST CREDIT SCENE 👀 MARVEL ATE WITH THAT ONE.

With that being said, i'm excited to tell you that i'm gonna write more of Bob Reynolds 👉🏻👈🏻 So here you go, a one shot with him, wich contains a few spoilers of the movie. At this point our reader will be polaris lol.

Hope you like it and comment what do you think of this one 💌

Bob was getting used to the place.

What had once been Avengers Tower had now become his new "home." He had an incredible view of New York City, several rooms to hang out in, thousands of dishes and meals he'd never been able to prepare in his life, and the pleasant company he shared every day.

The team had made him feel comfortable and part of something worthwhile, despite what they'd gone through to get to this moment.

Bob still felt guilty about what happened when Void took control of him and darkened everything in its path, even when Yelena reminded him it wasn't his fault and that he wasn't alone. The blonde had become a trusted person for him and was always there when he needed her. He told her his secrets and how he felt, and the Russian always gave him advice or a word of encouragement. Even with the trust he had in her, he confided in her something he never thought would happen to him. Or rather, something he thought was impossible to happen in such a short time.

He was attracted to Y/N.

The girl whom his other self had caused to see horrible things from her past, the one who could move metal objects with a simple flick of her fingers, and the one who made his heart race and his cheeks blush. It was a feeling that consumed him every time he was near her or even thought about her.

And Yelena, being the good spy she was and good at reading people, knew how Bob felt about Y/N. She always encouraged him to get closer and talk to her more, but Bob simply couldn't do it. It was not that easy.

"It sounds easy," John says, after hearing the plan for carrying out the mission.

Bob shakes his head to return to reality and ignore such thoughts.

"Wait until we get there and they welcome us with open arms," ​​Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We still made it last time, and look at us here," Y/N replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Ava laughs and shakes her head.

"We'd better get moving," she says.

Bob looks at the group with hope in his eyes, but feels unsure about what he's gonna say.

"Can I come with you, guys?" he asks.

All heads turn to look at him with a mixture of surprise and sympathy for his question. They know he wants to help however he can, but after Void was under control and hadn't appeared for quite some time, they weren't so sure it was a good idea to expose him like that again.

"Bob..." Yelena begins to say.

Bob hurries to explain himself.

"I know what you're gonna say. But I think I'm ready, I know I can control it" Bob says with determination in his voice "I've been practicing and trying to talk to him, so maybe I can do it, today"

"We know, Bobby," says John, "But we must complete the mission without any mistakes or problems along the way."

The brunette looks down and clears his throat, nodding. He raises his gaze to smile and meet Y/N's gaze, who smiles back.

"No, no, I understand," he says dejectedly. "When the time is right, I can come with you."

Bucky pats his shoulder and Alexei gives him a thumbs-up. Despite their attempt to lift his spirits, he can't help but feel useless and without any reason to be in the group, other than washing dishes, tidying the place, or reading books he finds lying around.

He hates the feeling.

But it is what it is, right now. And he has to face it.

After the meeting to organize the plan, the group dispersed to look for the weapons and prepare the car in which they would go to the location. Bob watched from afar as the rest of them prepared, while playing with his fingers. He shifted his gaze to the large window overlooking the city and didn't feel Y/N's presence approaching him.

"Hey," she said in a soft tone.

Bob turned his head to look at her and smiled delightedly.

"Hey," she asked.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nods and laughs softly, pretending to be okay and swallowing the feeling that bothered him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine"

The girl mimics his smile and stares at him, while Bob feels the heat spread to his cheeks.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie when I get back?" she offers, patting his arm to get his attention.

Bob smiles.

"I was actually thinking it could be a movie night with just us. If you like that idea," Y/N says, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders with a smile on her face.

"A movie would be nice. I think it would be fun to have a movie night with the rest of the team," he says awkwardly "We haven't had one of those in a while, so..."

She lets out a soft laugh, thinking how cute he looks all flustered.

"Oh..." he remains silent to calm his nerves until he speaks again so as not to make a fool of himself. "Oh! Yeah, just the two of us. Of course. It could be fun. Count me in!"

Y/N smiles and laughs softly, wich sounds angelical to Bob's ears.

"Great. It's a date" she says.

Bucky calls her to let her know they're about to leave, so she starts walking away from Bob.

"See you, Bob."

"See you. Good luck," Bob says with a dazed smile on his face, remembering the girl's words.

It's a date.

Bob walks to his room with an excited smile, feeling happiness in his chest, but when he remembers the last thing Y/N said, his eyes widen.

"Oh shit! It is a date!"

He needs to prepare for it.

----------

Bob listened and watched from the communications room to see how the team was doing on the mission.

It wasn't going so easy as they planed back in the tower a few hours ago, as they had run into a group of mercenaries who weren't going to give up so easily. The brunette just hoped everyone was okay and managed to complete the mission—and he really hoped Y/N was okay and didn't get hurt.

A feeling of anguish and anxiety was causing Bob's chest to tighten. His leg kept moving as he played with the Rubik's Cube in his hands, unable to complete a color.

The sound of bullets filled his ears, and his jaw clenched as he heard and saw Yelena or Bucky being hit. Alexei grumbled as he tried to pull a man off John to help him, and Ava took care of a few. Y/N tried to stop the bullets as best she could, but there were some hidden snipers she couldn't sense with her powers so easily.

"There's to many of them!" John complains through the earpiece in Bob's ear.

"Fuck! If we don't stop the ones from the roof we cannot go back to the car!" Ava exclaims in an almost exhaustive voice.

"Shit. C'mon guys" Bob whispers while frowning his eyebrows at the scene.

"Bob, can you see how many are on the roof?" Yelena asks from the communicator in her ear.

"Uh, yeah, yeah" he says inmediatly "There's five on the roof. Three of them has guns and two of them are programming something on the computer. Seems like.... oh no"

"What Bob?" Bucky asks.

"It's a bomb! You need to get out of there" Bob says quickly.

"Shit," Yelena curses.

"I can try to stop them. But I need you to cover my back," Y/N says in a confident, hurried tone.

Bob watches as the girl begins to head toward the other side to attack the group of men with guns at the entrance. The others try to stop anyone from attacking her, and she moves stealthily between the bodies to reach the entrance. Bob focuses his attention on the cameras in the building that shows Y/N, his heart aching at what's happening in the footage. Or what could happen.

"Please, be careful," Bob whispers.

Y/N stops the guards' bullets at the entrance with precision in her movements and attacks some who plan to hit her. Bob's eyes glance at the rest of the team as they manage to escape thanks to the distraction caused by the girl with green sparkles flashing from her fingers. However, he doesn't stop for more than five seconds just to check on the girl again. He wants to make sure she's okay, even if it's from behind the computer. Far away from the place where she is right now —just the thought of it makes his inner self freak out.

Something it's beginning to awake inside of him. Something he thought he had buried for his own good.

Or rather someone.

"Y/N, all done. Let's head to the car. I'll try to get to you right away," Bucky orders.

"No. It's okay, I got this," she chimes in stubbornly.

Bob shakes his head.

But before she can do so, a stray bullet hits her shoulder, destabilizing the girl.

"Fuck!" she complains, touching her shoulder.

"Y/N?" Bucky asks worriedly.

"Y/N!" Bob yells, watching as one of the guards hits her with her gun on the back of her head, causing the girl to fall unconscious to the ground.

That's it.

Bob rushes out of the tower's communications room and runs to the balcony, where he takes to the air with determination. He doesn't stop for a second, because time is precious, especially after seeing Y/N getting attacked. The only thing that keeps repeating in his mind is the visual image of the girl being injured, so he moves quickly through the air until he reaches the others. He had seen the coordinates and the area where they were, so it was easy for him to arrive in time.

Bob tries to find the place that the camera allowed him to watched the area in wich the girl was back at the tower, and when he finds it, he is surprised to find that one of the men responsible of attacking Y/N is carrying her unconscious body in his arms. Fury courses through his veins at the sight, and he rushes to stop the bastard. It's as if he's being consumed by darkness, a sensation he knows all too well.

As soon as he's in front of the guy, he stops him and without a second thought, tries to attack him, careful not to hit Y/N. The man looks at him in horror and carefully places the girl's body on the ground, then raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know..." he stumbles, but all Bob sees is red.

He growls and begins to mercilessly beat the man's body, making him bleed, and doesn't stop until he's unconscious. Blow after blow, unleashing all the anger he felt at seeing how the bastard hurt the girl. He can still see her grimace of pain and how her body fell unconscious to the ground, helpless, and who knows what they might have done to her if he hadn't arrived in time.

"Please...." the man begs almost unconscious.

Bob doesn't hear him. He doesn't want to.

And Void doesn't want to too.

The rest of the team arrives at Y/N's location, only to see her lying on the ground with a scarlet stain forming on the shoulder of her suit, while Bob kills the man. Ava approaches the girl's body and makes sure she has a steady pulse, while John makes sure that no one appears and attacks them by surprise.

"Bob," Yelena warns and tries to approach him to make him see reason.

"No! He hurt her. No one can touch her, or hurt her!" he exclaims in a mixture of anger and darkness. "No one! You heard me? Fucking no one!"

The others stare at the scene and notice how Y/N wakes up and observes the state Bob is in. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she rushes over to him and wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her face on his.

"Bob, hey. It's okay," she murmurs in his ear, feeling the man begin to slow down the blows, so she tightens her grip on his body. "I'm okay. Everything will be okay."

Bob calms down and brings his now covered in blood hands to Y/N's arms, then turns his body and hugs her with all his strength, trying to cover her body to protect her just in case, and also feel her in his arms and make sure nothing happens to her anymore.

"You are hurt" he whispers in her ear.

"It's just a scratch. I'll be fine" Y/N says with a small smile on her lips.

"He hurt you. I couln't allow him to do it" he says in a broken voice.

Y/N looks at the rest of the team and smiles at them, letting them know she's okay. Kinda. Bucky sighs and shakes his head at the girl in that state, knowing she must be screaming from the pain of the bullet, while Alexei smiles sideways and tries to encourage her from a distance. The blonde russian girl mouths to her that she will get the car ready to go, to wich Y/N nods and indicates her to do so.

"We still have our date," she tells him, still standing with the brunette, glancing at the man's lifeless body.

Bob lets out a sigh and nods his head against Y/N's chest, agreeing with her.

"Our date," he says in a soft tone, relaxing at the touch of her fingers in his hair. Although he can't help but feel anger again when he smells the metallic scent coming from the girl's wound.

"Yeah. Are we still up to that?"

"Definitely" Bob answers and lets out a small laugh.

She smiles and then pulls away from him to look him in the eye. Those blue orbits who watch her with a spark on his eyes.

"So let's go home and have our date, okay?" Bob nods and then lowers his gaze to the girl's wound.

"First, we need to treat your wound," he says, pointing to the red stain on her suit.

"Would you help me with that?"

"You don't have to ask me twice."

They both stare at each other with a small smile on their faces, understanding how much they care for each other and would do anything to keep them safe and viceversa.

Especially Bob.

And as long as Y/N is in his arms, he'll be okay.