Tumgik
#you just killed a guy with absolutely no benefit in that to you that you knew of
ducktollers · 4 months
Text
ai starbucks on doordash its so fucking over. if any company can afford to hire a photographer to take a picture of some cups sitting in water it is fucking starbucks ARE YOU KIDDING like are you joking. bye
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
Text
My support for my Eat The Rich comrades ends at “Celebs shouldn’t discuss anything that’s hurting them. They’re millionaires, I hOpE tHeY sUfFeR mOrE!!!”
15 notes · View notes
Conversation
Garak in "Second Skin": I will NEVER sacrifice myself for you people I will ALWAYS selfishly save my own life that is a PROMISE
Garak in "The Search, Part II", three episodes earlier: [sacrifices himself for these people even when he could have selfishly saved his own life]
16 notes · View notes
sukimas · 2 years
Text
everyone gives sigurd such a hard time for being a dumb fuck but arvis started off by trusting the guys who literally told him they wanted to bring loptous back from the dead. he then immediately got rid of prince kurth, who was absolutely not fucking and thus would have no heir besides A Surprise Tool That Will Help Us Later, because he couldn't wait five seconds to take over the world. it doesn't get better from there. he tricks langbalt and reptor but only because they think that the balance of power is different to what it is. he does nothing to ameliorate the fact that his son has a chance of being turbocursed, which is handily revealed by a literal birthmark. when his son DOES get turbocursed, he immediately gives up on doing anything about it except trying to kick him out of the country. because that would work. he went into managing an empire after having offed eighty percent of the people who could help him manage it. and let's not even get into how he didn't realize about the whole deirdre thing until After the kids were born. the only brilliant mind he ever had was for strategy and politicking and i mean. he is good at those! but my god, man
8 notes · View notes
marvelouslizzie · 7 months
Text
One More Night
Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.4K
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Tumblr media
It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 
It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 
He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 
You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 
That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.
“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”
He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.
“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 
“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”
“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.
“What?”
“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 
“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.
“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”
“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 
You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”
“Weak? You are never weak.”
“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”
“Doll, what are you talking about?”
His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”
“But… this is what you wanted.”
“I never wanted this.”
“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.
“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.
“When did I ever say that?”
His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.
“Just look at you.”
“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?
“It means you didn’t have to say it.”
“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.
“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”
“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?
“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”
“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”
“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 
“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 
“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”
“I was trying to protect myself!”
“You never showed any interest to me!”
You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”
“Uh… what?”
“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.
“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.
“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”
“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.
“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”
“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”
“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.
“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”
“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”
You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.
“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”
“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.
“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.
He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 
“God you are so blind.”
“Hey!” You instantly respond.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You are out of my league.”
“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.
“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”
He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.
“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”
You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.
“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.
“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”
“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.
“You would actually like me.”
“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.
“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.
You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.
“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”
He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.
“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 
It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.
“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.
“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”
You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 
“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 
God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.
Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.
“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”
Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.
“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”
“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.
“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”
“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”
He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 
“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”
“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.
“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.
“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”
You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.
“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”
You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.
“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”
“What?”
“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 
His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.
“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.
“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 
“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”
“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.
“Is that a promise?”
“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”
That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“Harder, huh?”
“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.
“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.
“Do I have to tell you everything?” 
“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”
“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.
That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.
“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.
“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”
“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.
“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”
3K notes · View notes
mywillbedone · 1 year
Text
nature really is amazing theres just plants out there that through the miraculous cycle of evolution have come to be extremely useful to people in wild ways thanks nature
0 notes
sunderwight · 4 months
Text
Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.
For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.
So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.
Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!
The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.
But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.
Possible fic ideas involving this setup:
-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.
-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.
-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.
928 notes · View notes
heavenbarnes · 2 months
Note
completely self indulgent thoughts about older!bf simon inspired by today's events at work. I work in tech/sales and a lot of my days are spent setting up new phones for people who are 35+, that for the life of them, can't figure out technology. just thinking about older!bf simon needing to get a new phone and asks reader for her thoughts, but when reader starts talking about storage size or sim cards he gets confused and just tells her "pick whatever love, I trust your judgement" not just because he does in fact, trust her judgement, but also because he can't he bothered trying to learn and understand.
have many thoughts about this.
friend, 90% of what i write is entirely self indulgent- we’ve got to do it 🫶🏼
it’s a miracle you convinced older bf!simon to finally get rid of that god forsaken flip phone and start working with an actual smartphone.
granted, it was like pulling teeth (yes the prospect of receiving nudes whilst he was deployed helped) but what mattered was he’d finally entered the 21st century.
and then he drops his cellphone on the drive and manages to boot it into the side of the neighbour’s garage. the thing was absolutely munted by the time it’d come off the end of simon’s steel cap.
which is why you’re standing in the middle of the electronics store looking at endless tables of cellphones and simon looks like he’s there at gunpoint.
“i ‘ave been held at gunpoint, was better than this”
so you lead him to the smartphones that are smart but not too smart, the ones that look hard to break or get wrong. they also look older than half the people working in the store, but that’s besides the point.
“can i help you both with anything?”
right on cue, a young but cheery guy appears across the table with a lanyard that tells you his name is hunter and he’s ready to help!
“no”
your elbow fits nicely under simon’s ribcage as you gear up to play hunter’s defence lawyer for however long this interaction is going to take.
“hi hunter, this one is looking for a new smartphone- what do you recommend?”
and while hunter does a standup job at explaining the benefits of a handful of phones he probably hasn’t sold to anyone under 75, simon is suddenly well engaged.
“and we’ve got a selection of cases, just regular ones or tough ones”
“need t’be tough, don’t want the fucker breakin’ when i’ve got someone in a headlock”
hunter pales and you veeeery slowly turn to simon with a look on your face that begs to know what the actual fuck is wrong with him.
“oh simon, you comic trailblazer- you know what, you’ve been so helpful hunter, thank you!”
you cut the kid loose as he tries to leave the table without taking his eyes off simon, who coincidentally is doing the exact same thing to him.
“would it kill you to let him help us?!”
“just about, didn’t like the way he looked at ‘ya”
the kid didn’t look a day out of school and naturally your better half has to pick a fight with any guy that so much as exists within your atmosphere.
he’s lucky he’s so handsome.
“ugh, which one do you prefer? 32GB? 64?”
“whaddyou’ reckon?”
and you’re about to let out the longest sigh known to man when you catch the look on his face.
that same look he gives you when he’s dressed up for dinner or just come back from a haircut, the look he gives you that tells you he’s looking for your opinion.
approval
“32 would do you, i don’t think you need that much space”
he grunts before he pulls you into his side, taking you both to the counter so he can get you to say all that again to your helpful attendee.
“oi, hunter”
poor guy nearly jumps out of his skin but manages to settle when he realises he’s about to close the sale, even manages to upsell that tough case.
simon settles once he’s back in the car with you, eyes scanning the box his phone comes in and grumbling something under his breath.
when you ask him to speak up you immediately wish you hadn’t.
“lost all those videos ‘f yours, better be enough space f’the new ones”
360 notes · View notes
xclowniex · 4 months
Note
The depressing thing about I/P is that it's shocking quite easy to take a stance on the matter without being viciously bigoted as hell, and yet people just swan-dived straight into vicious hatred and cruelty on pretty much the flip of a switch:
Netanyahu's government and Hamas are the main bad guys. The former because he was already a far-right wing crook who was in big trouble prior to all this, and now he's using the war to stay in power and out of jail. He's a genuinely evil man who needs to be in prison, and there are people within Israel trying to hold him accountable. Netanyahu absolutely detests Biden because the latter is less beneficial to him for his own cruel goals (Though justifiably your mileage may vary on Biden's actions and whether they're the right thing to do or not), and Netanyahu would greatly benefit from having Trump in power...which would be the exact opposite of helping Palestine.
Hamas is a terrorist organization being bankrolled by Qatar billionaires and who wouldn't hesitate to use Palestinians as cannon fodder for their goals. They aren't freedom fighters by any stretch of the imagination just because the government opposing them is led by an evil man and his far-right cronies, and regular Palestinians are being oppressed by them.
Both Israeli people and Palestinians have a long and complicated history that hasn't been resolved in centuries, and trying to pretend as outsiders that we somehow know the correct solution (of killing or driving out all of one side) is incredibly arrogant and extremely cruel, and basically turning two very diverse and complex peoples into props for our own ego trips.
Israel's and Hamas' governments have both committed immense atrocities and war crimes, and those involved DO need to be held accountable in order for a proper peaceful solution to exist, but that does NOT make their respective peoples responsible for their actions. So constantly trying to treat all Israeli and Jewish people as being responsible for genocide is stupid and grossly bigoted, especially given that in many other cases, we don't treat other nations who've committed similar crimes and evils the same way.
Likewise, Palestinians aren't people's personal props for their revolutionary fantasies or weirdly para-social guilt complex either; just because people in the West are deep in denial about their own nations' history of horrific mistreatment of minorities doesn't mean they get to turn two entirely different independent countries (with vastly different sociopolitical and racial histories) into a balm to sooth their own guilty consciences.
Like, this is still somewhat of a gross simplification, and feel free to correct me if I missed something, but it's still incredibly disturbing how many people can't seem to do this base level of thinking.
Nah you are so right anon
558 notes · View notes
itsclydebitches · 4 months
Text
By this point we’ve all seen a hundred “Lucy had a crush on Cooper Howard and doesn’t realize he’s the Ghoul” takes (which feed me during the hiatus, thanks), but just for the lols I’d love to see the reversal: Lucy hates this guy.
Cooper Howard is her personal White Whale. Lucy hate-watches his films and nit-picks every scene like someone is paying her caps to do it. Whatever the opposite of a blorbo is, that’s Cooper. She woke up one day and chose violence against this 200 years dead actor in particular… but, you know, in a PR approved, Vaultie kind of way. Why the hate? Who knows. Probably a combination of her dad showing her Cooper’s debut film right when she hit that tween age where liking what your parents like is soul crushing and the fact that if she didn’t have this emotional outlet she’d probably explode. It’s the one (1) thing goody-goody Lucy is irrational about and Norm takes endless pleasure in it.
So she’s traveling with the Ghoul, right? Not a whole lot to do while traversing the Wasteland, especially when your companion is blatantly ignoring you and the pip-boy isn’t picking up any radio signals. So when Lucy is able to open that wound again she starts talking about her dad. The books he liked. Jokes he told over dinner. His favorite pair of socks. Silly, inconsequential things that don’t touch on the weight of his betrayal.
Eventually, Lucy talks about the movies they used to watch.
Eventually, Lucy is comfortable enough—and bored enough—to segue into epic rants about Cooper Fudging Howard. For hours. Nothing escapes her passive aggressive, couched-as-constructive-criticism bitching. Not his acting (“Really, he’d benefit from learning a gesture other than sticking his hands in his belt”), not his looks (“Who decided to put him in those pants in Master of the Ranch? Although, Dad says Howard is the one who requested them…”), not even his unintentional impact on the family (“I swear if Dad makes me watch A Man and His Dog one more time…”).
All the while Cooper is walking a few paces ahead. Seemingly stoic.
Actually losing it.
What’s he even supposed to do in this situation?? He hates himself, but not like that. Cooper doesn’t have any desire to talk to Vaultie (that’s a lie. He’s good at lying to himself), but suddenly he wants to turn around, finger held aloft in the air (hers), and correct everything coming out of her mouth—whether he truly disagrees or not. Hands-in-belt is a classic cowboy pose. He loved those pants.
Cooper is Struggling™ and they haven’t even hit the strip yet.
Bonus points: Somewhere along the line they get together and Cooper starts angsting over whether Lucy will leave him. Not because of the radiation damage, or the murder, or the cannibalism, but because if she ever finds out he’s Cooper Howard she’ll absolutely abandon ship. Or kill him. Either option seems likely at this point.
Lucy: Are you ever going to tell me your name? Cooper, literally in bed with Lucy post-coitus: …That’s a little personal, sweetheart
417 notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 1 year
Note
BOB FLOYD CODED
YES IT IS. It's also Bob with a confident woman coded, which I absolutely love.
Tumblr media
It was cute how he tried to blend in with the background. His seat may have been in the corner, but his tall broad frame made him stand out. Unlike his friends, he was quiet, occasionally joining in on the conversation, though quite content to just listen and watch.
He was adorable and God, did you want him.
So when his friends got up to go play pool and sing by the piano, you swooped in. His bright blue eyes widened as he took you in, like a deer in headlights.
"H-hello," his voice was deep with a slight rasp to it. You couldn't tell the location of his accent, but it was definitely rural.
Had the Navy not worked out, he could make a killing recording audiobooks.
"Hi handsome," you smiled as you gently pushed a dark blonde curl away from his forehead, "How ya doing?"
"I'm uh, good!" He cleared his throat, trying to maintain some composure, "Just to let you know, the blonde is engaged and like head over heels in love with her. Basically she worships her. The guy playing piano is free, but he's not ready for a relationship, or a one night stand. The girl next to him is open if you're open. If not, you can go for Javy, he's the one who is-"
"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked, moving so that you were standing in between his legs. The newly close proximity allowed you to take in the scent of his cologne.
"I, uh," he tried scooting backwards, only to hit the wall, "Isn't that why you're here?"
He thought you were here to get information on his friends, not him.
How cute.
You simply shook your head, leaning forward, "I'm here for you handsome. What's your name?"
"B-Bob," his eyes widened again, "Wait, you're here for, for me?"
The idea of being the one a beautiful stranger would go after was foreign to Bob. Usually it was anyone else in his friend group. He was used to being the one that folks would go to in order to get information about someone else. This was a change.
Not that he minded.
In fact, Bob liked it. A lot.
Once the initial shock had worn off, he found himself easily able to strike up a conversation with you. He was so expressive, using his large hands and big eyes to help tell his stories. You found Bob quite knowledgeable, but never cocky. He was born in Montana and raised there until he was ten, when his family moved to California as his dad was part of the Navy, which explained his accent.
Inexperience wasn't his problem. It was just when he was out with his friends, who were stereotypically attracted, Bob tend to got lost in the mix of things.
A true shame, even though it was greatly benefiting you.
"I love your voice," You murmured against his ear, breath hot on his skin.
"You-really?" Bob squeaked, trying not to focus on how soft your skin felt against his, or the sweet scent of your perfume.
You giggled, the noise sweeter than any song Bob had ever heard, "Yeah. Love how deep it is. Could listen to it all day."
"I uh, that's uh, really nice of ya to say," His voice was shaky as your attention to him made Bob remember what was happening. A beautiful stranger went up to talk, wanted to talk to him, wanted to hear him.
On the other hand, you just simply smiled. He was so cute, having no idea what kind of effect he had on you.
Perhaps it was time to let him know.
Your lips trailed down to his neck, the scent of his aftershave absolutely addicting.
The grip he had on your hips increased, fingernails digging into the soft fabric of your shirt.
"Yeah? Could say the same about you darlin." His voice was lower, purposely so, as he cooed in your ear, "Your voice is so pretty, I've been wondering what other noises you can make with it."
So he could play the game after all.
You could too.
Gently, you lifted one left, raising it up and towards his lap. To distract him, you began peppering his jawline with kisses as you continued to direct your lifted knee closer and closer to his crotch.
While Bob's sharp gasp audibly let you know you reached your desired destination, you didn't need the sound to know.
You could feel him.
It's always the quiet ones.
Bob's fingers dug into the soft fabric of your skirt, willing himself to not moan on the stop, trying to remind him how awkward it would be to explain to his parents why he was honorably discharged from the Navy.
So instead, he pulled your hips towards him, practically closing the space between your bodies.
Gone was that sweet, yet unsure smile. In it's place was a confident smirk, that made your thighs clench.
When he stood up from his seat, it was then you realized how tall he truly was. Not that you minded.
"Why don't we go somewhere a little more private," His voice was seductively low against your skin, "I'm not into sharing."
1K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 1 year
Text
Having to share a bed with Gojo Satoru at a love hotel
Listen...I've got a little carried away by this one. While I'm currently writing for Geto and Toji, this part will only contain Gojo as it ended up so damn long. Hope you still enjoy <3
Part l (Megumi, Nanami, Yuta)
Part lll (Toji, Geto, Haibara, Choso)
Sharing a bed with JJk men pt ll
Tumblr media
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,8k (this was supposed to be a cute little one shot lol)
Warnings: No real smut, but it's getting REALLY spicy - you have been warned...
Synopsis: After pretending to be in a relationship with Gojo for some time, the two of you seem to be the perfect match for a mission at a love hotel.
It is ridiculous. You both know that all too well. Will it stop you from pretending to be Gojo’s girlfriend even though you aren’t more than friends? Absolutely not. You’ve been doing this for a while now, at the beginning only to take him as your plus one to a wedding and for him to fake proposals at restaurants for free meals. You are very aware of the fact that this is already going too far, especially when you consider that whole Jujutsu High seems to believe you.
“Hello there Gojo-bear!”, you cry out.
But it’s just way too fucking funny and comfortable to stop now. The thing is, it has a whole lot of benefits: easier missions, raises over raises, less trouble because everyone seems to fear your ‘boyfriend’ but most importantly you get to spend some time with Satoru himself. You hate to admit it, but the way he smiles down at you and wraps his arm around your waist does things to you you’d never say out loud.
“There you are honey!”, he replies with a sly grin, embracing you in his arms just like he always does.
The problem is, you just know that it isn’t more for him than a joke. Your heart stings in agony just thinking about the way he immediately scoots away from you as soon as nobody’s around anymore. To Satoru, you really are nothing more than a friend he enjoys to spend time and mess with.
“Yikes, why is this so cringe?”, Nobara mutters.
“Just wait until you find your true love, kids”, Satoru shouts towards them.
Fuck that ass eating smile of him and the way it makes your heart flutter. It’s all a lie and nothing else. Nothing but a made up story. Remember that.
“Satoru, (y/n). I have a mission for you. Follow me.”
The harsh voice of Masamichi Yaga pulls you out of your distress. A mission for both of you? Normally Satoru is sent alone. After all, he is the strongest and every other jujutsu sorcerer is only in his way. What is it that makes him think it is a good idea to send the both of you together?
“We were informed about a curse that killed over 100 couples within the span of a few weeks in several love hotels located in Tokyo. As you guys are the most disgusting couple I’ve ever seen, both of you were assigned to stay at the love hotel with the greatest number of deaths and exorcise that curse once and for all. Understood?”
It’s like your world turns upside down. Did you really hear that correctly? This has to be a joke, right? Ain’t no way he really thinks you and Satoru…Your gaze wanders to his shamelessly gorgeous face that seems as unbothered as usual. Of course. Everyone thinks you are a couple. Therefore, you are a perfect fit for this mission.
“Nothing easier than that. Just send me the location and we’ll get this done in no time. Right honey?”
“Right…”, you mumble.
“You know what that means, right?”, you hiss into his ear after leaving the director’s office.
“Yeah, a free night in a luxurious hotel on the back of the school!”
“No.”
You sign. How the hell is he so unmoved by all of this? Not even Satoru can be too dumb to realize what staying in a love hotel in order to exorcise a curse means…Right?
“If this curse only shows up in front of couples at love hotels then…then…”
Your mouth refuses to say it out loud. No, you are too prideful to confess to him that it makes your knees go weak and your heart bang inside your chest. Why do you bother anyway? You stretch your shoulders and look at him, face hardened.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
The ride into the heart of Tokyo is longer than you remember it, considering Satoru is sitting right beside you and watching anime on his phone.
“Damn, this part gets me every time”, he almost sobs.
“How often did you watch that already?”
“I lost count at 17. What is that look on your face? Don’t you know what happens next?”
“I never watched that one”, you admit, casually shrugging your shoulders.
Satoru drops his phone, intense gaze piercing through you even though he’s wearing glasses.
“You’ve got to be kidding right? You are my girlfriend and you never-“
Thick silence, your eyes widen at the sound of this words coming from his mouth. Girlfriend? Did he actually say that?
“I mean fake girlfriend of course. Just getting ready for later I guess”, he adds along with scratching the back of his head.
“Sure”, you reply automatically.
Can your heart just stop beating so damn loud? This is ridiculous, it was a slip of the tongue and nothing more.
“Listen, (y/n)…As soon as we step through the door of that hotel, you have to be my girlfriend”, he instructs you in a dead serious voice.
“No need to tell me, Gojo-bear…”, you comment dryly, more directed towards yourself than him.
After all, it is you whose love isn’t just a funny little prank. Your feelings are more than real, considering you can almost hear your heart shattering like fragile glass. How stupid it was to even think he could somehow feel the same way, that it’s more than a game to him. Who knows how much time he spends with other women behind your back…
“This is it. Are you ready?”
Get. Yourself. Together. You smile confidently and nod. Being in love with Gojo Satoru might be senseless, but revealing your true feelings towards him is even worse. No, you are way too prideful to give him that. Without thinking twice you grab his hand tightly just like you did multiple times before. You will get through this and bring this madness to an end after this mission.
“Hey, we’ve booked a room here for two.”
“The name?”, the man behind the desk asks while eyeing you intensely.
Fuck, don’t let your face turn red, withstand his gaze. Maybe he’s asking himself why a man like Satoru is with a girl like you…
“Gojo Satoru.”
“There you go. Feel free to use the elevator and call immediately if something is strange. Please check out before midday. Have a nice stay.”
“We sure will!”, Satoru replies with a cheeky grin before taking the key card and maneuvering you into the elevator.
“God, I can’t wait to be alone with you baby.”
You feel like choking while staring at him. Did he really just say that, is this for real?
“Listen, (y/n)…As soon as we step through the door of that hotel, you have to be my girlfriend”
Your heart sinks. Calm down, idiot. It’s only for the mission. You never know when and where the curse is, so it just makes sense to play along until it shows up. Reluctantly you smile at him with dead eyes. Why does this hurt so fucking badly? You pretended to be his girlfriend for more than a year now and it never bothered you that he held your hand and called you stupid nicknames. But this…This is something completely different. You are at a love hotel and Satoru is straight up trying to seduce you. How the hell are you supposed to feel about all of this?
“Let’s go, shall we?”
His hand rests on your hip while he leads you to the right room with ease. It feels like his hand burns against your skin, suddenly the air is way too hot to breathe properly. You want to get out of here, away from Satoru but at the same time you need him so much closer…What has gotten into you?
“Hey, no need to be nervous babe, I got you”, he breathes against your outer ear.
“I just…never done something like this. That’s all”, you admit dryly while avoiding his gaze at all cost.
“I’ll guide you, no worries.”
He closes the door behind you and cages your body with his. You are trapped between Satoru’s arms, no way to escape his intense stare and the way his large frame feels pressed against yours. At this point it seems like all of your senses and the ability to interact have simply vanished from your body. His gaze is…filthy, completely occupied by lust as it seems. You feel like your knees will give in any minute, heart almost pounding out of your chest while blood begins to pulsate between your legs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you fainting? What is this feeling?
“I’ll make you feel the way you deserve it”, Satoru rasps.
Before you can react, he lifts you in the air with ease and throws you on the soft bed in the middle of the room.
“S-satoru…I-I…never done this”, you repeat with choked voice, sweat dripping down your face while you desperately try to stop yourself from wincing.
God, he makes you feel so weak with the way his eyes hungrily linger over your body and seem to swallow you whole.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
And then it happens. His lips brush against yours. Slowly at first, almost sweetly. You close your eyes, hands automatically grabbing his strong biceps in a frantic attempt to get a hold of this situation. Is all of this a dream? Impossible. The way his arms are wrapped around you while his unmistakable scent fills the air around is way too real for that. Satoru picks up the pace, his tongue inviting itself into your mouth to get instantly into a tangled dance with yours. Fuck, this feels so good, almost like you’re on drugs – addicted to his touch and kisses.
“Satoru”, you literally moan into his parted lips.
You need to feel his body even closer, his touch a little rougher, his lips even better. You want more. No, you need more. More of the drug that only Satoru Gojo seems to be able to give you.
“I-I need more”, you stutter, eyes gleaming in pleasure.
“I would give you the world, (y/n). Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long…”
“How much I hate all of these fucking happy couples. Die! All of you, die!”
It’s like you get hit by a train when the distorted voice of a stranger fills the room with hatred and disgust. Satoru’s body blocks the view of the curse making its way through the ceiling at the speed of light. Automatically, you claw into his upper arms for hold.
“Took you quite some time to get here. I was almost afraid that you wouldn’t show up for our rendez-vous.”
“Would you mind letting me go for a second, darling?”, he words addressed to you.
Your hands let go of him immediately, body rolling to the other side of the bed in order to give Satoru the room he needs. The fight itself doesn’t take long. In fact, you aren’t even able to catch a glimpse at the curse before the room is lit up in purple, lilac glibber raining down on the bed with pieces of the ceiling, threatening to hit you right in your face. Pressing your eyes shut, you surrender to your fate. Not the first time you get covered in the remaining of some disgusting curse…
“Do you really think I’d let you get covered in this? You don’t know me well, darling.”
When you open your eyes again, you aren’t greeted by lilac glibber. In fact, it stopped right before hitting you with full force. You let out your breath you didn’t know you were holding, gaze finding Satoru’s bright blue orbs that seem to glitter.
“I’d say we smashed that mission”, he proudly announces, shaking the remaining of the ceiling and curse away from both of you while lifting himself off the bed.
You slowly get up from your trance, heart completely shattering at his words. You smashed the mission? Is this everything he is able to think about? Just seconds ago he laid on top of you, his tongue in your mouth while he told you over and over the finest things you ever heard from him. Everything nothing but…a lie? You want to get away from him as soon as possible, the pictures of him and you burn into your heart like a fuel rod. It was all just a game for him, a necessary price he had to pay to complete the mission.
“Thank god we did”, you hiss and abruptly jump out of bed, body swaying back and forth in dizziness.
Salty tears start to burn in your eyes, flooding over any second. No, don’t cry. What about your pride, how you always carried yourself with your head held high? A sob shakes your body before you can stop it. Fuck all of that. This hurts like hell.
“Hey, what is going on? Are you sad because I didn’t let you have your moment with that curse? Y’know, he was a pretty weak grade 1 any-“
“Is all of this a joke to you?”, you yell into his face, tears now running like a waterfall while your chest feels like it’s going to explode.
Satoru’s eyes widen in horror. Fuck, he never saw you like this. And the worst is that he seems to be the cause of your tears.
“You’re anything but a joke to me, (y/n)”, he replies dead serious.
“All the things you said were nothing but a big lie! All these kisses meant nothing to you!”, you cry out.
“(y/n)-“
“They did to me though. I never shared a bed with a man before, Satoru. It was special to me.”
Your voice sounds so defeated that Satoru instinctively gets up and walks towards you.
“But it was special to me too, (y/n)! It was always more than just pretending for me.”
“Stop kidding me. This pretending comes to an end right now. From now on, I’m not your fake girlfriend anymore.”
“Good, that’s what I wanted to say.”
You nod to yourself while his cruel words hit you like a wall all over again. So this is how it comes to an end. You always knew that sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with the lies anymore. How were you supposed to build a future on top of a pile of foul lies? It was beneficial as long as it lasted. You shouldn’t have expected more from the start.
“I don’t want you to be my fake girlfriend anymore. Please, just make it real and official. I loved you this whole time (y/n). It always felt better to pretend than to potentially not having you at all. Today showed me that I can’t be without you, that I want to share a bed with you every night and not just for a mission. I’m beggin’ on my knees if I have to, please be my girlfriend.”
Time stands still, you are unable to move as your mind desperately tries to process what he just said. He want you to be his girlfriend…for real?
“Stop messing around with me, Gojo”, you warn him.
But a little voice inside you tells you that he isn’t lying, that his face tells nothing but the truth. Can it really be that the Gojo Satoru wants you to be his girlfriend? Your skin starts to prickle while your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Please let this be real…
“I’m not. I want to hold you like I did before that fucking curse appeared every hour of the day and not just when someone’s around, (y/n).”
“But…Why did you always break away from me when we were alone? You could have just told me, I-“
You stop. You did it just like him. Pretended that it’s nothing but a stupid joke to you, that Satoru didn’t mean more than a friend does. You told yourself over and over that your feelings aren’t real, that you are just a good actor. Oh, but it was so much more. It is so much more.
“I did the same”, you confess your thoughts to him.
“Please, (y/n). Let’s make it real, no pretending anymore. Be by my side.”
His hands gently cup your face while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.
“Nothing better than that”, you mutter before pressing your lips against his.
“You know, that bed is still looking good and we’ve booked for a night…”
“Let’s not waste the precious money of Jujutsu High, then”, you moan while he bites down your neck.
1K notes · View notes
choslut · 20 days
Text
˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ FWB. featuring a. hayakawa.
Tumblr media
↻ just you, aki, and quarter ounce of fresh weed waiting to be smoked.
tags : friends with benefits, semi-hatefucking, dirty talk, banter, heavy petting, minor angst, drug misuse (weed) // wc. 0.9k
author’s note : although i've done some substances b4 idk anything about weed measurements... originally had reader and aki smokin on 5oz TT (enough for 500 blunts can u believe it...) thank u guys for sticking around for this one !! lots more to come i promiseeee :) as always notes n reblogs much appreciated <3
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
Tumblr media
“this shit’s strong.” you take another puff of the lit joint before passing it back to AKI. “where’d you get it?”
“ask himeno,” he replies dryly. “she was the one who put me on.”
you hum satisfactorily, resting your head in aki’s lap and motioning for the joint again. you like afternoons like this, ones where there’s no immediate need to be at work, no sense of impending doom leaning over the two of you. 
just you, him, and a quarter ounce of fresh weed waiting to be smoked. 
makima would kill you. 
in your drug-induced haze, you look up at your smoking partner. aki looks beautiful whilst high, jet black hair slightly mussed and framing his flushed features. the whites of his eyes are stained a deep crimson, and his pretty lashes seem lengthened by the way his eyelids droop heavily over his eyes. 
you kinda wanna kiss him. 
instead you sit up and sling your legs over his own, smiling dopily into his face before stroking his cheek. “when’s denji and power comin’ back?”
“not till this evening.” he pays you no mind. this is normal for a relationship like yours, not quite strangers but not dating either. you come over, you get high, you fuck, you leave. 
friends with benefits. 
aki starts to notice the way your hips slightly buck against his. he knows what you want, but it’s always funnier to make you beg for it, so instead of kissing you in his usual fashion, he reclines, one hand holding the joint whilst the other rests just above your ass. “you want somethin’?”
you groan. “you know what i want, aki. we do this all the time.”
he tilts his head. “yeah, but it’s always fun to switch things up a lil’.” he takes another hit before tapping the underside of your chin, motioning for you to open your mouth so he can hold the joint in between your lips. “you’re gonna have to work for it this time.”
“i hate you.” you might say that, but your body conveys the complete opposite, hips moving faster as you drag your hands down to the waistband of his joggers. aki loves acting nonchalant, but right now, he’s just as hard as you are high. 
“do you hate that fact that you’re in my bed right now?”
“doesn’t change anything, jackass.”
this is what you do. it’s your brand. you and aki banter until the tension becomes absolutely unbearable, and then you fuck it out like a pair of rabbits in heat until you’ve had enough. he’s your stress relief, you’re his fucktoy, and together you make this twisted mess of a relationship that neither of you can decipher. 
“you gonna fuck me or not? i hear kishibe’s givin’ it out for free these days.” you reach inside his sweats to trace the waistband of his boxers. “fuck, always wanted to know what it’s like to get fucked by an older guy.”
aki borderline growls. “i don’t share.”
you laugh in response. “grown up aki doesn’t wanna share his toys.” you lean in close to his lips, tip of your finger tracing his tip through the fabric of his boxers. “i’m not your doll, hayakawa.”
“yet you’re always creamin’ on my cock ‘n tellin’ me how good it feels.” he flips the two of you over. “ ‘oh aki, don’t stop!’ ‘right there, baby!’ you’re a fuckin’ liar.” to punctuate his sentence, he presses his hips into yours, and you can feel just how hard he is against your drenched panties under your—his shirt. 
“that- hah- doesn’t mean shit ‘n you know it.”
in turn, aki raises his eyebrow. “it doesn’t? so why’re you so wet right now?” he pulls away, and the wet spot on his jogger caused by your arousal alone is almost embarrassing. “admit it. you like it when i slut you out.”
you scoff. “i’ll die before i ever admit that.”
tongue and teeth clash in a fight for dominance, the air becoming hazy with lust and smoke as you grind up against him, the still lit joint smoking away on the ashtray. aki’s hands are everywhere but nowhere, and when he finally pulls up your shirt to brush his fingers against your pebbled nipples, you whine audibly. 
“that’s it,” he breathes, the corner of his lip quirking into a smile. “you know you love it, baby.”
“i- hnn- i don’t.” you do, and he knows it better than you do, but for the sake of stamping out his ego, you deny it. 
you hope that in denying it, you can quell your blooming feelings for him too, but with the way he grinds against you and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, it steadily becomes a lie you’ll never accept. 
you’re friends. you’re colleagues. you’re mentors. you and aki aren’t meant to be lovers, despite the way he touches you so passionately under the covers. it’s stress relief, it’s fucking, it’s calling each other names and making out and climaxing over and over in each other’s arms until one of you calls it quits. 
and even when he’s above you, thrusting into your tight heat like a man possessed, you can’t help but doubt everything you’ve ever felt for him. 
you don’t love him. well, you do. platonically. because you’re friends. 
friends with benefits. 
Tumblr media
PREVIOUS : SHARING IS CARING ft. t. fushiguro + s. kong NEXT : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko
liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.
© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.
168 notes · View notes
artbyblastweave · 17 days
Note
Heroify: Kingpin
Compared to some of the other characters people have sent in today this is like shooting monkeys in a barrel!
Part of the reason Fisk is such a good Daredevil villain is that he's already got a lot of the basic elements you need to make a street-level hero work- the will, the drive, the protectiveness, the territoriality, and the quote-unquote "badass normal" peak human fighting ability that, let's not fuck around here, is absolutely a superpower even if the chickenshit writers won't directly admit to that. It's just that he uses those abilities to be a crime boss rather than to fight crime bosses. To put himself in charge of his childhood bullies instead of fighting his bullies. A classic case of "If only he'd used his immense capacity for interpersonal violence for good." What would make him stand out from all the other heroes in his niche is his propensity for Empire-building, his complete inability not to build up some kind of organization from scratch, and what that impulse might look like in a superheroic context.
I'm imagining that his initial schtick is that of a Bully Hunter. After getting ripped and wiping the floor with his childhood bullies-or maybe this is one of the versions who offed his own father for beating on his Mother- he embraces the specific high of the "pick on someone your own size" routine, and he becomes The Big Man, the guy you go to when you need somebody who's been getting away with something for a while cut down to size. Upstairs neighbor is beating his wife and kid senseless, and nobody does anything because his brother's a cop? Call The Big Man. Real Estate Baron's using his connections to try to muscle out the residents of a tenement? The Big Man's gonna pay them a visit. Boss at the diner's withholding your paychecks and getting away with it because you're undocumented? You get where this is going. He usually doesn't kill people- not out of any particular code, but out of a combination of pragmatism and sadism. He's smart enough to engineer situations in a way that he can claim self-defense or frame someone's tumble down the stairs as an unfortunate accident or rely on the unexamined illegality of whatever his target was doing to prevent them from getting the police involved. He's got a bit of a financial cushion, as well, because all of this is actually his side gig- he's still a very successful, if not as cutthroat, local businessman, because hospitalizing domestic abusers doesn't pay the bills. As a power move, he does most of this under his own name- he's got a "costume" in the form of the distinct suit, and a nominal codename, but part of the bit, part of the point he's making, is that he's slightly better at weaseling out of the consequences of his actions than the people he targets. Always a bigger fish, after all. Power is relative. His thematic niche is distinct from Daredevil's abstract sense of idealized justice. It's not Frank Castles mechanical eye-for-an-eye approach. It's about the satisfaction of leaving a certain category of wrongdoer alive, so that they can remain very, very afraid.
Of course, since his entire bit is that he keeps putting untouchable assholes in fullbody casts, the attempts on his life start stacking up- First it's Ed the domestic abuser and his buddies from the bar coming around for a rematch, and then goon squads, then hand ninjas, then low-rent supervillains- and because The Big Man toes the line of being an actual superhuman, he's usually winning these things, and coming out ahead in the PR game for beating down a bunch of costumed thugs attacking his Perfectly Legitimate Art Gallery- but it's a pain that his office keeps getting firebombed. And this is where you start to reap the benefits of having done under-the-table favors for hundreds of people all over New York- The Big Man has a network now. The Big Man knows guys who knows guys, some of whom owe him favors, some of whom are just really afraid of him coming back for round two. The Big Man can pull together a hundred guys with crowbars and hammers on a day's notice, if he happens to need something like that. If he doesn't know someone with a backdoor into Tombstone's fortified penthouse or Hammerhead's mansion, if he doesn't know someone with incriminating information on Silvermane or Norman Osborn, well. He knows their cousin. And once he thinks to begin leveraging this? If the people escalating things have specific addresses, by the end of the week they very likely don't.
It's not as if he eliminates all criminal activity. He's not even interested in doing so. Like half the painting's he's selling are really convincing forgeries. But things hit a point where there's simply a hard practical limit on how imperial a supercriminal's ambitions in New York can become, how domineering, how visible to the man on the street, before The Big Man decides it's time to make a point and starts calling people, who in turn start calling people.
152 notes · View notes
lizlovestofangirl · 1 month
Note
WRITE FOR ARTHUR NEWOOOWOQOWWWW
i need a good friends with benefits to lovers
need.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"crawling back to you"
pairing... arthur leclerc x fem!reader
now playing... do i wanna know? by arctic monkeys
letter from liz... me when arthur leclerc: 🧎‍♀️
warning... descriptions of sex, swearing
summary... when friends with benefits goes wrong
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
it happened quickly, so quickly you almost missed it. but first, let's go back to earlier in the night.
dinner with his friends had been nice, but as usual the girlfriends talked, the guys talked, and you just kind of sat there. yes, the girlfriends tried to include you in conversation, but it was difficult because they were all making future plans while your only concrete plan was for tonight. going out and then going home with him.
the club was nice. you were in the vip section as usual, surrounded by beautiful people getting absolutely wasted. arthur definitely aligned with both of those descriptions. at around two in the morning, he said he was ready to go if you were, so you got an uber and he held you close the entire ride home. he didn't let go of you until you were in your apartment, only letting go of your hand to help you take of the heels that were killing your feet.
the second you were in private his lips crashed into yours and his right hand traced your jawline as his left found the small of your back. he led you to the bedroom, heated kisses in between every step, and shut the door.
a few words could be used to describe what ensued. perfect, loving, magical. but also, wild, passionate, uncertain, and messy. after you were both cleaned up, he pulled the covers over both of you and nuzzled his face into your neck.
"i love you," he murmured.
three little words. eight stupid, reckless, incredible, dangerous letters that slipped out by accident. he tensed up immediately after saying them and said "sorry, they just slipped out i wasn't thinking. just ignore it"
but how could you? "did you mean it?" you asked, tears starting to spring to your eyes.
he propped himself up to look you. he opened his mouth, as if to say something, closed it, and then opened it again saying, "i think so."
"i think i love you too."
213 notes · View notes
howtofightwrite · 4 months
Note
Most traditional boxing instructors will tell you that if the opponent is taller than you, has longer arms than you, or is heavier than you, you're fucked and you need to stay extremely aware and work really hard to compensate for all the advantage he has over you.
In a recent forensic survey, it was determined that most traditional boxing instructors who get into real world altercations die when they're shot in the head.
This is the problem with a lot of these kinds of arguments. No one practices traditional boxing. At least, no one does so publicly. How do I know this? Because traditionally boxers fought in the nude. Yeah, we're not seeing that, are we? Now, maybe they meant bare knuckle boxing, but really no one does that either, these days. Boxing without safety equipment is not a particularly good idea, for fairly obvious reasons.
The only reason the word, “traditional,” is in the ask is to lend their statement unearned credibility. It's an attempt to make their statement sound more authoritative, without offering any evidence to support the statement.
Who said that?
“Traditional people did.”
Okay, but, 'traditionally,' people cleaned shit off their ass with a stick. So, maybe appealing to Hellenic sports isn't the best gauge of how a fight will play out.
Also, I know I just said it, but, who are these authoritative sports guys? Because they're not named. We're simply told, “most,” of them agree. Which starts to sound a lot like “four out of five dentists agree.” Who are these instructors? What do they teach? Why are the currently in prison for indecent exposure? And how much did you pay them to get their uninformed opinion? Salient questions which may need to be answered, if the original question wasn't invalid on its face.
Why do I say it's invalid?
Because boxing isn't fighting.
Boxing is a sport.
Boxing has rules.
Kick your opponent in the groin, or shin, and you're punished.
Step on their foot, push them, and watch them tumble to the ground before you start stomping on them, and you'll be punished.
Throwing your opponent will be punished.
And of course, as mentioned at the top, pulling out a gun and expanding your opponent's mental horizons is extremely frowned upon.
These are all things that can happen in a real fight.
These are all things that do not benefit from increased height or reach.
There is one genuinely accurate statement. In a fight, you do need to be very aware of what's going on around you. Everything else is the product of someone who's been punched in the head repeatedly until the CTEs got them thinking that boxing is analogous to a real fight in any way. (And, statistically, will probably end their career sitting in a jail cell over an aggravated assault charge, because their emotional self-control was completely destroyed by those same head injuries.)
The rules that boxers need to follow are designed to (somewhat) protect the participants. It reduces the dangers of a boxer being killed in the ring. In an observation that I would hope to be self-evident, those rules don't exist in actual combat.
It's also amusing, because the original Asker had to go so far as to single out an ill-defined, “traditional” boxing, because no other martial art they checked gave them the soundbite they wanted.
And, of course, women box. Historically, you could say, “traditionally,” there were even boxing matches between men and women. It wasn't until the 1880s that women were excluded from competitive boxing in the UK. (I'm not sure of the exact date when women were banned from boxing in the US, though that prohibition lasted for less than a century, before the modern return of women to the sport.)
So, either these “traditional instructors” don't know the history of their own sport... which doesn't sound particularly “traditional” to me, or they're full of shit.
My advice to everyone would be, maybe, don't take the advice of a sports coach about how he's secretly an absolute badass in all the delusional fantasies he's cooked up about how he'd like to inflict violence on others because they wouldn't date him.
-Starke
This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.
276 notes · View notes