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#could be better but im done looking at it
sukirichi · 2 days
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SUKI SUKI? @! ÷ 2? I THINK YOU HAVE CLOSED THE REQS BUT IT OCCURRED TO ME TO ME MAGICALLY HELP. LISTEN !!!! husband bonten but the first time they met with y/n, like THE FIRST INTERACTION OF EVERYONE AND IN WHAT SITUATION DID THEY HAVE AN INSTANT CRUSH TO EACH OTHER AND EVERYTHING THAT CONTAINS?×)÷,×!",!)0273*?× ¡÷ 2 I PRAY YOU TO WRITE IT, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT IS IN 10 YEARS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYINH
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BONTEN MEN MEETING THEIR WIVES FOR THE FIRST TIME !! (PART ONE)
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☁️ mikey, haitani ran, haitani rindou
☁️ unedited. mild angst on mikey's part. ran is technically not a first meeting, but yeah! suggestive on ran's part. fluff. cursing. mikey is lowkey a stalker. (only putting the three of them first because it was getting too long 😭)
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♡ — MIKEY
It’s just another day, another mission. There’s nothing new for Mikey. And even if there was, there’s hardly anything he looks forward to now. Whether it’s a mission accomplished or mission failed, he hardly notices. His executives will take care of it, anyway. So he walks aimlessly in the streets he calls his, unafraid of the night’s darkness and the dangers it might bring – quite frankly, because he is the danger that lurks. What is there to be afraid of when he’s the worst imaginable nightmare around?
So lost in his own thoughts, it takes him a second to register the collision of his body with someone else. “I’m sorry!” a sweet voice cuts through the night air. You sound adorable and apologetic enough Mikey’s eyes light up for just a brief moment. Dark, lifeless eyes come to life as he glances at you – bowing in apology while clutching your satchel to your chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to–”
At any other day, Sanzu would’ve handled this for him. At any other day, Mikey would’ve let it slide and moved on because he just doesn’t care. You’re a civilian, anyway, and you knew better. No one bumps into him like this by accident. Curious, he tilts his gaze to you. There’s only one good conclusion of your unabashed expression that of guilt and genuine embarrassment – you must not have any idea who he is and treated him like you would anyone else.
He’s not the fearsome Manjiro Sano to you.
He’s just a stranger you inconvenienced, and for some reason, that soothes him. He’s not a killer in your eyes. He’s not a person who’s continuously done the wrong thing for the past few years. He’s just... him.
“It’s okay,” he replies after a moment, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. “It’s late, though. You shouldn’t be out around this time of night. It’s dangerous.”
“Oh, I know,” you scrunch up your nose, “Gangs are running rampant and all. But this is the only time I can take a high-paying shift, and what’s the point of safety if I can’t pay my bills, right?”
He doesn’t know how to answer that. He hasn’t worried about bills in a long time – Kokonoi has that covered. Instead, he nods, finding it hard to look away from you. “Stay safe, then. And if you need help, then...” Then, what? The gangs would help? Bonten would keep you safe? No, that was ridiculous. Bonten was the one thing everyone wanted to be protected from.
It hits him, then, that he is the monster that makes everyone feel unsafe. And for once in his life since he’d established Bonten, Mikey feels sick.
He doesn’t want to be the cause of your worries.
— It doesn’t take much to find out everything about you – where you work, where you live, when your shifts happen, and even silly details like what your favourite flavour or cup ramen is. He tells himself he’s doing this for your safety, and in a way, he is. You weren’t kidding when you said you take graveyard shifts because it pays the best, so upon finding out you come home really late, and go to work just as, Mikey takes it upon himself to watch from afar. Never approaching, never striking a conversation – because he doesn’t know what to say, and how could he explain he knows your routine by now – but always watching. Guarding. Protecting. He must look ominous gazing upon you from buildings afar, but he’s content with it. He thinks he can do this for as long as he likes, simply watching you from afar.
— But then he realizes he wants more.
— And he doesn’t know what ‘more’ means exactly. More time with you? You don’t even know who he is. More conversations? He’d probably stumble over his words, or make the worst jokes. Fuck. He hasn’t joked in a while. Would you even find him funny? He thinks about all day long, all night long, until you’re the only one running into his mind and he’s been so mentally checked out of his own meetings that his executives have – politely – asked him to just take a while for himself.
— So he does, and because he was never good at controlling his urges, he goes to you. He dresses a little nicer than usual; a newly ironed shirt, a good pair of jeans, and even asked Rindou to fix his hair up for him. “Going on a date?” he’d teased, but even Mikey doesn’t know how to answer that. It’s not a date, but he’d be damned if he let another day go by that you didn’t know his name.
— He introduced himself, rather awkwardly, and pretends like he didn’t come to your work on purpose. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he says, and it couldn’t be a bigger lie. But you just smile up at him like you’re happy to see him, like you’ve been hoping to meet again, and for a moment, Mikey lets himself believe that it could be true. Maybe he deserves that smile. Maybe someone actually wants to see him. He lingers on that delusion long enough that he’s matched his routine with yours – walking you back home, letting you talk about how much you hate your boss, and hate your sleazy customers even more. It’s not easy being a waitress, especially when you’re forced to wear tight-fitting clothes with the intention of attracting customers. And it gets to him. The darkness and rage he’s been letting quietly simmer beneath his veins as to not scare you off finally resurfaces.
— He hates it all – hates how you’re in such an unfortunate situation, and there’s only so little he could do. Until he realizes he’s the Manjiro Sano. After sending in Sanzu to deal with your boss, who may or may not have been gently blackmailed into treating you better and giving you higher pay or else, Mikey notices the weight being lifted off your shoulder. You’ve started smiling more and even invite him to your place one time to celebrate your ‘fortunes.’
“Are you sure?” he asks rather warily, “I mean, it’s late at night.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you reassure him, and lead him inside your home. He almost feels bad for you for being so unaware. You don’t have the slightest idea you’re bringing a killer in the safety of your home, but he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it when you turn on the lights. He’s greeted by your homey apartment, a little cluttered, a little messy, and it’s a little small for you that he can’t imagine would be comfortable – but it’s yours, and you’re proud of it. Pulling out a mat, you tell him to make himself at home while you prepare some celebratory snacks. They’re nothing fancy – mostly chips, cheap wine, and a few hardened candies.
It’s probably the worst timing to realize he’s falling in love.
First of all, there’s nothing romantic about watching you lean against the counter, humming to yourself as you pop open the wine. Second of all, you don’t look enticing or seductive. Not in your mismatched pyjamas and even more hilariously mismatched socks. But you are enticing – from the way your throat vibrates at your humming, to your quick, swift movements preparing the snacks. You look so at home, so content, that he can’t help but want that for himself. Want you for himself. He wants you at his place and to decorate it as you wish. He wants you to liven it up and scatter knick-knacks all over his room. He wants your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. He wants you – wants all of you – from your crumpled shirt, to your aching shoulders after a long day at work, wants to kiss it all better for you.
He wants you.
And when the Bonten Head wants something, he will get it.
— If someone told him that a few years from now that his silly musings at three in the morning would finally come true, he’d have scoffed at them. But this is his reality is now, and how he’ll spend the rest of his life.
You’re standing next to him in his bathroom, brushing your teeth while simultaneously humming to yourself. He’s heard the melody enough to have memorized it. And when he’s having a hard day, he sings it to himself, although it never sounds as good like when you do it. The tune is comforting, a reminder you’re in his life now, that everything’s worked out. You married him, and he couldn’t be a happier man.
“Something wrong, Manjiro?” you ask after rinsing your mouth, turning to him with a hand on your hips. Stern, yet unbelievably gentle. Cupping his cheeks with your hands, he melts. “Tell me. How can I make it better?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, and it’s the truth. The moment is all too perfect. You’re here with him, you’re safe, and you’ve loved him after everything he’s done. “Just wanna hold you.”
You break him to it. Lunging into his arms, you giggle and bury yourself around his neck, knowing full well he’ll catch you. Mikey laughs, too, but it’s quieter, more reserved, the sound nearly muted because your skin is pressing against his so hard that it becomes hard to fathom there was ever a time he felt he wasn’t worth of love. And maybe he still isn’t. He still has Bonten, he still has horrible urges, he still gets the demanding itch to kill and hurt – but you’re there, in his arms, and he feels the darkness slowly simmer into tamed shadows.
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♡ — HAITANI RAN
Ran is not subtle with his feelings. He believes in the beauty and art of flirting, of holding one’s gazes for just a second longer than what was considered polite, the fleeting, yet burning touches one could pass off as innocent. He’s had enough experience in his life to have mastered it. He’s handsome, he’s irresistible, and he knows it. Beauty and charm is a weapon he wasn’t ashamed of wielding, especially not around his current flavour of the month – or more like months, now. He’s played this game of tic tac toe with you, this push and pull, for so long that he feels he’ll lose his mind.
Like everyone else in Bonten, he usually gets what he wants. But you’re different. You’re attracted to him – that much he knows – but you’re the one responsible for all of Bonten’s uniform and suits that your attraction borders just on the edge of professionalism. But he knows. Oh, he knows. You aren’t so subtle yourself.
Each time he comes around for a fitting, your lips twitch as if you’re fighting back a smile. He also doesn’t fail to notice how you’re gesturing around to your staff in the shop to give you two ‘privacy.’ Bonten executive or not, Ran isn’t foolish – he knows he’s the only one receiving this special treatment. Knows you don’t touch your other clients like this – with a perfectly manicured nail grazing down his arm, your eyes lidded with lust, your blood-red lips caught between your teeth.
It makes Ran yearn.
He wants those same claws to run down scratches behind his back. He wants to take those lips into his mouth, instead, to have you ruin his suits by staining it with your lipstick on his collar, his neck, his tie, his pants. It’d give him more of a reason to come back, anyway. But you just had to be so professional that he always leaves the shop with his pants feeling tighter than ever, his lungs constricted because it becomes hard to breathe around you, yet feeling so addicted to the high of having you so close, yet so far away.
“You should come back for another fitting,” you call out to him just as he swings the door open. He freezes. He’s always the one scheduling a fitting. Unable to help it, he shuts the door and locks it, smirking to himself when he hears the vague hitching of your breath behind the counter.
“And why is that?”
“Oh, you know,” you manage to tease, but ah. He can see right through you. Even with your nonchalant facade, he can tell he’s getting under your veins with every step he takes to close the distance between you. Damn the counter. Damn any customers who might be waiting outside. For now, there’s only him and you, and he thinks he may damn well truly ruin his pants when you look up at him with eyes blown wide with want. With need.
He wishes you could just let go and give in.
“I, in fact, don’t know. But do care to enlighten me,” leaning down, he rests his arms against the counter, glad to finally be at your eye level. You’re prettier in this angle, which baffles him, because you’re already so pretty enough it hurts. And he can’t help but wonder if you’d look a hundred times better in... different angles. An angle under him, perhaps, where you’re helpless and forced to clutch his biceps while you hold on for dear life. Because Ran guarantees once he gets his hands on you, he’s never letting go.
“I just think,” with narrowed eyes, he feels your heated gaze travel from his face that’s inches away from yours down to his chest, and to the bulge constricted around his pants. You let out a breathy sound at the sight of it, his body responding by growing even harder. “Your pants are too tight for you now. Perhaps we should make you a better one?”
“I have other ways in mind in which we could resolve this problem. Preferably one that doesn’t consist of measuring tapes,” he raises his brow, watches as you slowly unfold and unravel right at his palms. It’s almost satisfying. Almost. He’s wanted you for so long that frustration is more what he feels right now, and impatience. “Although I’m not entirely against using ropes.”
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♡ — HAITANI RINDOU
Rindou doesn’t concern himself with civilians. He has better things to do, and after a long day, he’s more than ready to just plop himself into bed and wake up only when the world is ending. Or, he could just let it end, too. He couldn’t care any less. Unfortunately for him, though, the universe has different plans for him that night. He just wanted to get a damned drink, for fuck’s sake, until he hears screaming and the shuffling of feet as soon as he steps out of the convenience store.
“Stop him!” someone squeals, the cry helpless and desperate. From where he stood, wine bottle on one hand, he could see the figure of a man running with what seemed like a bag clutched to his chest. “Someone help, please!”
Rindou sighs. There’s nothing more that he hates more than petty crimes that are more inconveniences than impactful. Before he could register what he’s doing, Rindou’s arm extended out in front of himself, and within the blink of an eye, the thief whizzing past him had been caught by the collar. The thief struggles against his hold, whining and thrashing with curses thrown his way.
“Let me fucking go, you oaf!”
“I don’t think so,” Rindou tips his head to the side just as a figure appeared behind the thief. You stand there, wheezing to catch your breath with your hands on your knees. At the sight of him effortlessly restraining the thief, you break out into a relieved sigh and snatch back your bag, holding it more possessively. And oh, aren’t you just pretty? With your skin layered with a sheen of sweat from all that running, cheeks damp with tears, your frown now replaced with a grateful smile – Rindou feels like you’re the thief. “Whoa. Careful with that smile, sweetheart.”
Your brows furrow, and he nearly groans. It should be a crime for someone to look so adorably confused. “What?”
“Okay, that’s enough, they got their bag back, now let me go!”
Right. He still had a lame excuse of a criminal on his hand. With a roll of his eyes, Rindou throws the man against to the ground until he’s coughing out blood from when he hit the pavement. He hears you gasp, and it makes him wince. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh. You’re probably afraid of him now.
“Run along,” he warns the petty thief, and he didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the man disappears, Rindou turns to you, a lazy smile making its way into his face. “You know, I usually hate being troubled, but this might be the first time I don’t mind as much.”
Your jaw drops. You look around frantically in your bag for a moment, and just when he thinks you can’t get anymore interesting, you pull out a wad of cash and shove it to him. Rindou cocks a brow. “And what is that for, sweetheart?”
“To-to thank you for saving me! And it’s also an apology because I troubled you...”
Rindou fights the urge to scoff. “I feel like I should be offended,” he says in a sing-song manner, only because you don’t take the teasing well, and the sight of you stumbling over your words is already making his night. He wants to reassure you it’s no trouble at all, that he’ll easily catch all your thieves for you, or that you can steal his heart and never give it back to him. But he doesn’t, because he’s just met you, and maybe, just maybe, he’s curious how this will go.
“Oh, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“Say, if you really want to thank me, why don’t we share this?” he lifts his wine bottle, and you eye it for a moment before nodding eagerly. His heart drops. He lowers the bottle, his voice growing darker – yet make no mistake. Behind his scowl and hardened eyes, his heart is beating a mile a minute, and his skin is burning impossibly hot. “Don’t you think you say yes a little too easily?”
“Uhm, but you saved me. You helped me, and this is how you want to be thanked.”
Rindou thinks his brain might short-circuit. You are definitely trouble.
“I could be more dangerous than him, you know,” he leans toward you menacingly to prove a point, but you don’t cower. Your breath hitches, and you clutch your bag tighter. But you don’t move away, and neither can he. Now that he’s closer, he can smell your strawberry scented perfume and he shuts his eyes, greedily inhaling the scent. Shit. He hasn’t even drunk anything, and he already feels intoxicated. Taking a step back for his own sanity, Rindou levels you a warning glare. “You really should be more careful, sweet. Perhaps it’ll lower the chances of you running into trouble.”
“Oh,” you look dejected, though he could just be imagining it. “Yeah, okay, uh... I’ll be more careful. Thank you again...?”
“Rindou.”
“Rindou,” you repeat, and he realizes his name sounds sweeter when you say. With a scrunch of your nose, you eye the wine in his hands again. “Will I see you again? I really want to thank you for your help.”
With such a sweet offer, how can he resist? He’d be stupid to say no – even if you were trouble, it’s fine. He wasn’t notorious for being a troublemaker for no reason anyway.
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lesbiankimdahyun · 2 days
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Desperately need the next part for summer session I WANT TO KNOW IF IM NOT A CHICKEN FOR MISS SANA PLSANDJSJS
here it is!!
SUMMER SESSION III
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2.9K words 
CW: scissoring, face sitting, other gay activity using toys ;)
AN: this is most likely the last installment!
[Sana x F!Reader] 
Requested: Yes
“You’re gonna run out of clothes, bestie,” Chaeyoung said, “And time.” 
“Ugh,” you replied, readjusting your phone to give the tiny version of your friend on FaceTime a better view. “I know I know, just tell me what you think.” You stepped back into the frame of your full length mirror so Chaeyoung could get a glimpse of your outfit. She leaned in toward the screen, trying to get a better look. 
Clothes that didn’t feel right littered your floor, bed, and hung haphazardly on hangers in your wide open closet. This was your fourth outfit change and you were about to start sweating. “Well?” 
Chaeyoung took in your outfit– a simple white tank with a cropped, textured, short sleeve lilac button up over it, and dark denim shorts. 
“You look…” she paused. “Well, gay. Okay great! Now hurry up and add a watch or some jewelry so you can go!” 
You rolled your eyes a little, picking up your phone and reaching for the jewelry stand on your dresser. “Just gay? Oh whatever, as long as I don’t look stupid.”
The blonde-haired girl beamed at you from her New York City studio apartment. “She’ll like it,” she said, then smirked. “But you didn’t need any help from me for this, really. Not when those clothes are gonna end up coming off anyway!” 
“Hey!” 
Her burst of laughter cut off your chances of getting a smart reply in. Chae waved at you. “My job here’s done. I gotta go meet a few friends now but good luuuuuck!” Her sing-songy voice cut off as the call ended. 
You thought about sending her a snarky reply via text, but when you put on your watch and saw how close to seven it was, you decided to forgo it. Instead, you opened the chat you had going with Sana as you locked the door behind you, told her you’d be there soon, then headed for the train station. 
Sana’s apartment was modern and clean, but still very personalized to her style. As she showed you around her kitchen and living space, a few things caught your eye. 
“Is that like… vintage Betty Boop?” you asked. 
Sana smiled at you. “Yeah,” she said, glancing up at the framed image hanging on her wall. “One of two hundred original, signed, limited edition lithographs.” She blushed a little. “I uh, I really like Betty Boop. She’s just so cute! Yet sexy...”
Her bookshelf caught your eye, too. But not for the books. In fact, only the bottom shelf had books. The rest held other personal belongings of hers. The top shelves were dedicated to perfume bottles– some new, some that must have been a few decades old. The middle shelves were full of small photos and knickknacks. 
You pointed at a photo of Sana with a couple other girls on either side of her. “Who are they?” you asked, suddenly noticing just how many photos she had with the two other dark haired girls. One of them had a cute, shy gummy smile and distinct beauty marks. The other girl had a long, shoulder length wolf cut with bangs that lay perfectly across her forehead. She was intimidatingly pretty, just like the other girl. 
“My best friends from home,” Sana replied, picking up the framed photo. “That’s Mina,” she said, pointing to the girl with the beauty marks. She pointed to the girl with the wolf cut. “And that’s Momo!” 
“Wow,” you said. “How long have you known each other?” 
Sana paused to think. “It’s been…gosh, maybe ten years? It feels like I’ve known them forever, though. I’m trying to convince them to visit next summer.” 
You smiled as she set the framed photo back in its place on her shelf. “I hope they do,” you said. “They seem cool.” 
When you were done admiring Sana’s space, the two of you ordered food. As you waited for it to arrive, you hung out on Sana’s couch while she introduced you to her favorite kr&b duo, UJB. While you acquainted yourself with the duo’s two idols, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, Sana made mixed drinks for the both of you. 
“Their music is so good,” you said when she sat back down and handed you a glass. “Okay be real– do you have a favorite out of the two?”
Sana laughed, a sound you liked the more you heard it. “I love them both a lot,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her drink. “Obviously. But if I had to choose…” she nodded toward the shorter, raven-haired woman on the screen. “It’d be Jihyo.” 
When your food finally arrived, you arranged it carefully on Sana’s coffee table while she refreshed drinks for the both of you and grabbed plates and cutlery. The mouthwatering scent of bulgogi, spicy pork, steamed mixed veggies, rice and summer salad filled the room. Sana came back with not only drinks, but two tiny shot glasses and a fresh bottle of soju. 
“What’s all this?” you asked, eyeing the shot glasses as you reached for a napkin and plate. 
“I hope you don’t mind,” Sana said, reaching for the remote. “But I’ve always wanted to try…” she pulled up Jennifer’s Body, ready to stream. “...the drinking game to this.” 
“Oh, sure,” you said, filling your plate while Sana filled hers. “I love this movie.” 
At first, you thought you wouldn’t be drinking that much considering there were only eight rules to follow for the drinking game, but Sana insisted on alternating between the pure soju and your mixed drinks. Soon you were feeling much less self conscious and a little braver with some alcohol in your system. Before long, both of your plates sat unattended with only a few bites left on each as you got more into the movie’s plot and the drinking game. 
Your nerves about why Sana had invited you over in the first place were almost gone, until the scene in Needy’s bedroom was suddenly on screen and you felt a bit of heat rise to your face. You couldn’t bear to look at Sana as you watched Jennifer kneel on Needy’s bed, tucking her hair behind her ears and adjusting her glasses on top of her head. Their lips met shortly after, and you glanced away. Sana, on the other hand, sat engrossed, leaning in slightly as Needy climbed on top of Jennifer on screen and leaned down to kiss her. 
“When’s the last time you kissed someone like that?” Sana asked suddenly, making you jump a little. 
“Wh-what?” you forced yourself to only look at the screen, watching for a moment. “Oh, uh… it’s been a while,” you said. Without really thinking, you then said, “You?” 
Sana chuckled. “Hmm. A while for me, too,” she replied. You nodded a little, suddenly very aware of how much distance had closed between you and Sana since the movie started. You had been sitting more toward the corner, facing her with one arm lazily draped over the top of the couch, and now Sana was nearly resting against your arm. You kept your eyes on the screen, swallowing hard. 
Sana reached for the remote, turning down the volume of the movie. “Would you kiss me like that?” 
You blushed. You nodded before your voice finally caught up with you. “Y-yes,” you said meekly, finally daring to look in Sana’s direction. She was already looking at you. 
“Okay,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You turned to face her, and as you did, you could practically feel the energy of the room shift. The attraction between the two of you was almost palpable now, and it gave you a much-needed bit of courage. 
You sat up a bit, resting your hand on her knee as you moved. You leaned in a little and so did she. You were about to tilt your head when she spoke suddenly, softly. 
“I…” Sana hesitated. “I just want you to know I really do think you’re attractive, I’m not just doing this because we’ve been drinking and—” 
She trailed off, eyes fixated on your mouth. Noticing this, you moved forward then, finding your confidence finally as your lips met with hers. Sana let out a muffled noise of surprise, then quickly kissed you again, giving you permission to continue. 
Her lips were soft and her touches even softer. She opened her mouth a bit, inviting you in to taste her. Her hands gently pulled on your wrists, and it was all you needed to be able to lead from there. As your fingertips focused on lightly trailing over her forearms and waist, you continued to kiss her, a little deeper, then deeper still until she finally broke away to come up for air. 
Sana’s cheeks were a deep, flushed pink and her eyes slightly hooded as she looked at you. 
“Do you— um…” Sana struggled to find her words and bit her lip to keep a goofy smile off her face. You waited patiently, amused by this new side of hers. It was like finally, your roles had traded. You felt much more bold, while Sana seemed to only get shyer. “My room’s this way,” she said finally, getting up and taking your hand. 
You barely had time to look around Sana’s room before she was pulling you down onto her bed with her. Your lips met hers again and you laid back on her bed, pulling her on top of you. Her hands pulled your short sleeve button up away from your sides as she kissed you, then moved toward your white tank tucked into your shorts. Meanwhile, you worked on Sana’s shirt, a dark off-the-shoulder long sleeve. Before you knew it, both of your clothes had been abandoned on her bedroom floor. You could see out of the corner of your eye through Sana’s window that the sun was setting, but one of her lamps turned on automatically a few moments later, filling your corner of the bedroom with an incredibly soft, yellow glow while everything else fell away to shadows. 
Sana was kissing her way down your neck fervently, one hand working its way between your legs. At first you thought she was going to touch you, but then she started pulling you closer. You were confused for a moment until you figured out what she was trying to do. You took your hands away for a moment to adjust your legs and the distribution of your weight, and then Sana’s; one of her legs over yours, and one of your legs over hers. 
“Better?” you asked softly, pulling Sana closer to you. In all of your experience, scissoring had never been able to make you get even remotely close to coming, but if it was what she wanted and needed to get off, you were more than willing to do it. 
Sana nodded eagerly, looking down to watch as your body met with hers. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan when you felt her wetness on yours. You tried not to think about all of the other things you’d rather be doing to her, focusing instead on trying to help her grind into you. It was nearly impossible to get a good rhythm going, but your own lust skyrocketed and you found yourself grinding back against her, trying to get your aching core any sort of satisfaction and relief. 
The more the two of you worked at it, the more labored both of your breathing became. 
“Is…this comfortable for you?” you asked after a few minutes, panting lightly. 
“Kinda,” Sana replied. Her eyes roamed everywhere over your body. She grabbed at your thighs, squeezing lightly, then set her gaze back on your mouth. She paused for a moment. “Actually…” she said, “I think I know what I’d like even better.”
She reached for you to kiss you, gently untangling her body from yours as her tongue explored your mouth. You found yourself lying down on her bed with Sana climbing on top of you. Her long, brown hair tickled your face as she kissed you, and then she stopped. 
“I… want to feel you,” she said, her brown eyes looking down at you for approval. “Put that mouth to work for me?” You nodded eagerly, sliding down more so Sana had room to hover above your face. You held onto her thighs as she lowered herself down, her breath hitching when she felt your tongue on her. 
You started slowly, taking your time to lick the length of Sana’s wet cunt. She held onto the headboard of her bed, eyes closed. Your tongue teased her entrance, making her gasp, and then moved toward her clit. She tried to be quiet at first, but you gave the back of her thighs a playful squeeze. “I like being able to hear you,” you murmured. “Don’t be shy.” 
Sana half laughed, half moaned as you lapped at her clit. “Y-you’re one to ta– oh, there, right there,” she said. She sank lower onto your face, her thighs warm and snug against the sides of your face. “F-fuck,” she breathed, starting to roll her hips. Your own noises of delight were muffled under her pussy, but Sana appreciated them just the same. 
Your chin, nose and lips became soaked in her juices as you continued to eat her out. You could tell it felt much better for Sana than scissoring had because her breathing slowly became more shallow and her once quiet moans were getting louder. 
“Oh, god…” Sana’s body involuntarily shuddered a little. “That feels so…” she trailed off, grinding against your mouth a little faster. “Yes…” 
But then, just as you were working yourself back into a rhythm that seemed to really please her, she stopped again. She lifted herself off of you, giving you both a few moments to catch your breath. 
“Are you okay?” you asked, slightly worried. “Did I hurt you?” 
Sana smiled, still panting lightly. “No, no, not at all,” she said. “I was actually…” she tucked some of her hair behind her ears. “I could’ve come like that. Well, I mean, I wanted to, but I… I think I’m too shy to come in your mouth,” she finally admitted. “But,” she added quickly, “I do want to come.” 
You nodded, sitting up a bit and wiping part of your face with the back of your hand. “How would you like to?” 
“Hmm.” Sana climbed toward the edge of her bed for a moment, letting the top half of her body disappear momentarily as she leaned over the side to grab a small box under her bed. You quickly looked away from checking out her hips and ass when she sat back up. When she turned to face you, she held a light purple, seven inch toy in her hand. She blushed, but you grinned. 
“I can work with this,” you said. “Lie back,” you instructed, taking the toy from her. You kissed your way down her body, lightly twisting one of her nipples as you moved. You settled in between her legs, kissing and licking your way to her wet pussy. 
“Do you want me to touch you too, or do you want to?” you asked softly. In response, Sana snaked one hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit lightly. Your own cunt clenched involuntarily around nothing as you positioned the head of the toy at her entrance. You rubbed it along her folds a bit, soaking it with her own juices before finally slipping the head in. 
Sana threw her head back, opening her legs a little wider. “M-more,” she said. “Please.” 
You prayed your own wetness would drip down your thighs instead of onto her bedding, talking to Sana softly as you worked more of the length of the toy inside her. “You look so pretty like this,” you told her. Sana rubbed her clit as you fucked her, eyes locked on you as the toy slid in and out of her dripping pussy with ease. 
“God, you make that feel good,” she said, her entire body flush from pleasure. 
“And you,” you said, listening to the lewd sounds of her receptive, wet pussy, “make it sound even better.” You leaned down to kiss her, letting Sana lick your lips and tongue. Her hips bucked as you fucked her, her body trying to get more of the toy inside as her fingers rubbed away at her clit desperately. 
“R-right there,” Sana said after a while. Her body had been growing more and more tense the closer she got, and you could tell she was extremely close now. 
“Nngh- f-fuck, there,” she reached down and put her other hand over yours, helping you fuck her deeper and faster. Her breathing was ragged. You wondered how she was getting any air at all when suddenly she let out a cry, hitting her peak. Her body collapsed completely as she came, letting out light, breathy moans. It was one of the prettiest sounds you’d ever heard. You supported her body as she relaxed into post-orgasm bliss, and gently worked the toy out of her. The moan she let out when you finally slid it all the way out nearly made you feral as you set it aside on her nightstand. 
“Thank you,” Sana said breathlessly. “Wow.” She rolled over, eyeing you for a moment curiously. “To be honest, I’m more of a pillow princess,” she said, glancing at your neglected, soaked cunt. “But I’d love to watch you touch yourself.” Then she smiled mischievously. “You uh, don’t happen to own a harness for a strap, do you?”
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Note
Could you do "How are you?" "I have been better" for those Jily prompts?? Im absolutely obsessed with your writing!
from this prompt list
James hasn’t been here in a week. 
That probably makes him a lousy Head Boy, but wasn’t he already anyway? Besides, he’s been so busy (kept himself so busy), there hasn’t been time to hole up in here in the way he’d grown accustomed to since Halloween. 
She hasn’t been avoiding the Head Office like he has, something he’s spent a ridiculous amount of hours turning over in his head. Is it because she knows he has the Map and won’t impede on her space? Is it because she wants him to find her there? Is it because she doesn’t care at all and isn’t as pathetically miserable as he is?
He pushes into the office, with the intent of getting some homework done in his break before lunch. He didn’t check the Map, but Lily has Potions anyway.
Or—he thought she did?
“Oh.” James freezes at the door. “I thought you—I can just…come back when—”
Lily shakes her head, a quick, anxious movement. “No, it’s fine. I was just leaving. Slughorn cancelled class so we can revise before—never mind. I finished the patrol schedule if you wanna glance over it before I send it out.” She slides the parchment across the desk toward him, but as soon as he starts moving toward her, the chair screeches loudly against the floor and she hurriedly rises. “You can just…” She takes a backwards step and gestures limply toward the parchment. “Leave any notes you have and I’ll…adjust it this evening.”
"Okay," James responds, his own unease palpable in the silence that follows.
“I’ll be back around eight,” she tells him, and he knows why.
“I have Quidditch anyway.”
“Right.” He hates the way her shoulders sag in relief. She grabs her bag from the floor and takes a step toward the door. “So I’ll just…”
“Yeah…”
“Well then, er…” Lily falters, her gaze flickering uncertainly toward the door. “Bye.”
“Wait!” James blurts out, the word escaping before he can stop it, and he immediately regrets his impulsiveness. He wants to kick himself or slam his head down on the desk or something because he's supposed to be done with this. This impulse, to act like an idiot every time she's in his general vicinity. The Lily Evans Effect, as Sirius calls it.
Lily stops, her hand hovering over the door, her expression curious yet guarded.
James swallows. “If you can hang on a second, I can…I can look over this and then you can get it sent out by…dinner.”
“Oh.” She reshoulders her bag, but gives a small nod. “Yeah, okay.”
He takes a seat at the spot she's just vacated and deliberately focuses on the parchment in front of him, determined to ignore, ignore, ignore the lingering scent of vanilla and oranges that she always carries with her. He hasn't been close enough to her to smell it for days, but it's like flying a broom, the way it comes back to him unbidden.
His eyes skim across the parchment, noting the familiar quirks of her handwriting. She always forgets to dot her 'i's, a detail he's found amusing since it's her own name. The cursive loops of the 'h's are large and exaggerated, evidence of her habit of going back over them. But she still doesn’t bother to dot the ‘i’s. It’s infuriating. He loves her so much.
“This looks good,” he says. “Is Parkinson still in the Hospital Wing?”
“Yeah, that’s why I—”
He nods, understanding. “Right, yeah, I see that.”
“Do you think—”
“No, I think this is better because—”
“Okay, that’s what I thought, but what if—”
“No, he’ll be fine. And if not he can just—”
“Fuck right off,” they both say simultaneously, locking eyes. He wants to laugh—or cry, maybe. It’s a fine line these days.
“Evans?”
She looks like she’s on the verge of crying herself.
He rakes his hand through his hair and sinks back into the chair, a heavy sigh escaping him. “This is stupid. I don’t…” He looks back at her, his voice trailing off. “At least tell me…I—how are you?” His words emerge with careful deliberation, a sharp contrast to the frantic thudding of his heart.
“I’ve…been better,” she says softly, and maybe it makes him terrible, maybe it makes him a right prick, but somehow the misery in her admission gives him hope.
Straightening up, he leans toward her. “Lily—”
She cuts him off with a shake of her head, her eyes squeezing shut. Her fingers find the doorknob, a silent plea evident in her trembling form.
“Just—hang on a second, okay?” he presses. “Can we…I don’t know—”
“Please don’t, James.”
He groans, rising from the chair and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you miserable?”
“You know I am,” she sighs.
“Then let’s—” He stops as her hand twists on the doorknob. “Please.”
“Leave it, James.”
He lets his head drop between his hands. This is worse than before, worse than fifth year, and he just—he wants to hold her. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the floor, unable to watch as she leaves, again.
“Sunday,” she says suddenly.
He looks up, surprised to still see her standing there. “What?”
“I just need—the Potions practical is Thursday and you have a match Saturday, so we—let’s just get through the week and talk on…Sunday.” She looks at him expectantly. “Okay?”
“What kind of talk?”
“I don’t know, James,” she says, with a bit of exasperation. It’s halfway between genuine irritation and fondness, but James has never minded those odds before. “Let’s just see how we’re feeling after the weekend.”
“You know how I feel. You know I—”
“Sunday.”
“Will you still…are you going to the match?”
She fixes him with a frown then, and this time—he’s positive he sees fondness. “Just because things with us are…” She sighs. “I’m still a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”
And he just can’t help himself. The Lily Evans Effect. “Will you cheer for me?”
She laughs, in spite of herself, as she opens the door and James feels like he’s already won the match. “Sunday, Potter.”
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tiredfox64 · 2 days
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Im here to offer a mavado x reader...
(I saw the one you made and here I'm feral-ing)
So another reader becoming small (now this one, you can choose how it happened, doesnt have to be potion, bro prolly made a wish to a shooting star /JOKE)
Mavado here just "shit, welp, time to smother you with my love now hehe"
Off topic: Currently drawing your oc, I'm finna get you /threat
Pequeña
Yip notes: Your timing was impeccable. I was close to panicking about something till I saw your request. Immediately my brain told me I'm not allowed to panic because I have to figure out how to do this.
Pairing: Mavado x Afab reader
Warnings‼️: mfs who are 5'2
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When Mavado made a deal with Shang Tsung to get a hold of Kano he knew what he was getting himself into. He knew how deceptive the sorcerer could be. Yet he still made a deal with him so he could obtain Kano. He had to work his ass off to get that damn Black Dragon. He had to go through Sonya and Jax so he could get Kenshi. All that work to finally get Kano and torture him. However, he had to strike once the fun was done before Shang Tsung did. He sent Hsu Hao to deal with the sorcerers but got no reply. Of course, he couldn’t finish the job. Mavado had to do everything himself. Well, not fully alone. He brought you, his loyal girlfriend, to finish the job with him. He suspected Shang Tsung would have Quan Chi with him and could not risk dealing with a 2 v 1 situation.
His prediction was right. Both of the sorcerers were expecting Mavado but not you. You and your boyfriend put up a good fight. Mavado was skilled with the hookswords he stole from Kabal. You barely had to do any work.
This was a losing battle for Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. In an attempt to escape, Quan Chi decided to target you. He wasn’t focused on whichever spell he cast it just had to distract Mavado. You heard Quan Chi chant and as you went to face him you felt something hit your stomach, causing you to fly back. Mavado immediately turned around to check on you, only to see a cloud of toxic green smoke consuming you. It gave Quan Chi enough time to grab Shang Tsung and make their escape. Though Mavado lost his targets he had other matters to be concerned about. He ran over to you and tried to wave the smoke away. He couldn’t find you, not a limb or strand of hair to hint at your body still being there. But once the smoke cleared he was surprised.
You were alive but you’re…small. As small as a rat.
He knew things were going too well. Something bad was bound to happen.
He crouched down to get a better look at you. You stared up at him with big, sad eyes. He couldn’t tell if you were tearing up because of the situation or if the smoke burned your eyes.
“Am I in trouble?” You asked in a small voice.
“We are in trouble. This is not on you surprisingly.”
I don’t know what he meant by that.
Your mind hasn’t adapted to the situation so you were horrified and confused. He tried to grab you but you were so confused about what he was about to do that you decided to dodge him. Mavado doesn’t need you doing this but you have little control over the situation. He had to snatch you with both hands, trapping your arm to the side of your body and your legs dangling. You heard your boyfriend sigh before saying,
“Always so difficult.”
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
“Yes, I can see that she is small.” Daegon pointed out the obvious.
“Can’t you do anything to fix this mess?” Mavado asked.
“I am a demigod, not a miracle worker. I cannot be bothered to fix this while my brother is out there. He is a bigger issue than your little girlfriend,” pun intended, “If I know anything about sorcerers when they are in a panic, Quan Chi’s spell won’t last forever. This is not permanent.”
Mavado let out a sigh of relief but also annoyance. For once he was not happy with the Edenian but what could he do. If Daegon’s words were true that means this will all be over at some point. When that moment comes is the true concern. He doesn’t have an issue with you being small. It’s kind of funny and cute. He’s more concerned about you getting hurt by something or someone. You’re his girlfriend, he cares about you. You’re the only other thing he prioritizes other than his clan.
Since Daegon isn’t telling Mavado to do anything or go after Taven, he’ll keep his eyes on you most of the time. What else could he do?
He still had you in his hands and he decided to mess with you. You ain’t gonna do anything. You’re not gonna jump off his hands. He took this opportunity to squish your cheeks which you never let him do. He used his middle finger and thumb to squish both of your cheeks. You whined and told him to stop but did he? Nah. He just laughed at your futile attempts to push him away. Your tiny hands were unable to save you.
“You’re so pathetic. But I love you anyway.” He said before kissing you on the top of your head. That one kiss alone messed up your hair.
Now what could Mavado do with you? He’s never dealt with a tiny human before. Nobody has. He took a moment to think of how to keep you safe but not bore you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he positioned you in front of his chest area. Your mind is a battlefield that you sometimes lose to. This means your impulsive thoughts come into play and you listen to them.
In short, you grabbed onto his chest hair and yanked on it. You’ve never heard him whimper in pain before. He almost crushed you in his hands because of your little stunt. He grabbed you by the back of your shirt and brought you up to his face. He did not look happy. His eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance. Huh, how have you never noticed the scars on his right eyebrow? It looks good on him.
“What have I told you about touching my chest?” Mavado asked in the calmest voice he could provide.
“…don’t yank on your chest hair.”
“And that rule still applies while you’re small.” With his other hand he used his fingers to give you the lightest flick to your forehead that he could do.
This sure will be a journey for him and you.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Don’t let your judgment be clouded by Mavado’s good looks. He may be your boyfriend but he is still cruel. He’s cruel in a loving way.
Now there is a reward system at play. An eye for an eye, a trade for a trade.
You want some food because you haven’t eaten since the morning? Don’t worry, Mavado will feed you, after you do something for him. You have to give him a kiss for each piece of food. The worst part is he is stingy. Here’s a bit of bread, now give him a kiss. Here’s a singular black bean, give him another kiss. Again and again, that was how your dinner went until you were full. He just likes having some control of you and feeling your little kisses on his face.
How bout a nap? A nap after a good meal is needed. Or at least Mavado needs a nap after the bs he dealt with.
You had no choice. You tried to run off the table but his arms surrounded you and trapped you close to him. He placed his head down on the table and dragged your body so that you were trapped between his cheek and arm. You struggled with all your might but you’re just wasting your energy. He told you to stop already and that your movements were awkward against his arm. You let out a sigh before accepting that there was no use. Might as well take a nap with him. You snuggled against his face, feeling his stubble scratch you. The warmth of his body calmed you till you fell asleep.
That was a good thirty minutes of sleep before Daegon slammed his fist against the table. Both you and Mavado were alerted and you were almost flung into the air when Mavado jumped up. He was about to throw down an electromagnetic mine before Daegon yelled at him.
“Throw that mine down and you will not live another day!” He grumbled something inaudible before continuing, “I need you to go. Taven is too close to us and I need him eliminated now.”
Mavado wanted to ask what he should do with you but Daegon was already on the move. He can’t leave you alone. Anything could happen to you. But bringing you along would be just as dangerous. Hmmm
You saw him look at his trench coat, specifically the inside. Well, would you look at that! There’s a pocket on the inside. How convenient. Without much discussion, he picked you up and placed you in the pocket. You’re as snug as a bug in there.
“I can’t promise you won’t get hurt but I need you to be strong for me. Do you think you could do that?” He asked.
You gave him a thumbs up. He kissed the top of your head before concealing you. He took off running, doing his duties for his clan. Just don’t pull on his chest hair again while you’re hiding.
“Ah! Stop pulling!”
What did I just say?!
Yap notes: Every time I do something for you I get a bloody nose. I don't know why and I don't know how. But I think if I don't finish something for you I'll keep bleeding. Only now does everything about me feel better. So your threats are real I think even though they are for my oc. Adiós!
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dokyunqsoo · 4 months
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EXO LADDER 4 | EP 1 Does Kyungsoo prefer to talk less or does he just have nothing much to say?
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choccy-milky · 2 months
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MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕
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archivebottles · 6 months
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Happy birthday to the most special girl in the universe!! Wanted to try something ambitious and ended up with the biggest comic I've done to date
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ratfest · 3 months
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nagitoedit · 1 month
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[I D: A semi-realistic digital drawing of Hollyleaf, a black cat with green eyes, from the shoulders up. She has a distressed expression as she looks up to a red glowing shattered star floating in front of her face, casting her in red light. There is green bounce lighting illuminating her from behind. The background is a black and green gradient. end I D]
a messy drawing i made that i then added to much detail to !!
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todayisafridaynight · 11 months
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'tumblr if you snipe the quality of another post of mine im going to break into your cellar and ruin all of your wine' translation: click for better quality
80's version
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francy-sketches · 2 years
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the king of drip ✨
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astraltrickster · 5 days
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Guys I don't normally talk about this on this blog, so I'm only going to say it once, and im going to say it as calmly as I can:
Stop with the pro-Trump - sorry, "anti-Biden" propaganda.
Stop spinning this as a choice between good domestic policy and bad foreign policy vs. bad domestic policy and good foreign policy - there is no universe in which Donald "Muslim ban" "build the wall" "turn Gaza into a parking lot" "has streets named after him in Israel" Trump is an improvement on our foreign policy, no matter how much it may FEEL like we can't get any worse and no matter how aggressively some people try to spin his end-of-term (i.e., EARLY COVID ERA) detainment numbers as "proof" otherwise.
Letting him win the presidency does NOT imply to the Democratic party that Americans want better foreign policy, either - they look at what the majority of voters say as evidence of what the people want. This is why they're so damned wishy-washy - because leftists keep trying, and trying, and trying the inaction strategy...so they go for the actual voters. They go further right - because that's where the people they see as "motivated enough to care" are. Abstaining doesn't send the message "I hate both of these options" - it just says "I don't care." It says "do whatever you want to me or anyone else, it's no skin off my nose." It says "those protestors? They're a tiny loud minority. Most Americans want more war, not less."
You cannot boycott a government the same way you can boycott a business - they're getting your tax money anyway.
You cannot change the world by sitting on your hands and doing nothing. Anyone with power who tries to tell you that inaction will get you what you want is someone who is trying to silence you.
If voting were useless, if voting made no difference, if the right weren't utterly terrified of losing power, then we wouldn't have gerrymandering, voter suppression, disenfranchisement of prisoners, disenfranchisement of anyone with a felony record, voter roll purges, we wouldn't have had to fight to secure voting rights for women and POC, the list goes on. The worst people in the world really, really want you NOT to vote. I am begging people to be more aware that just because someone knows how to speak your language to spin your silence as action does NOT mean they have the best interests of you or ANYONE else at heart.
And there is so fucking much more at stake than this one issue and "imperialists' comfort". Half the horrible shit that has happened domestically in the past four years has been because Trump stacked the Supreme Court - the overturning of Roe v. Wade? Remember that? We're likely to have more vacancies in the next 4 years. If he gets more appointments, we could be fucked for DECADES.
"But what about the rest of the world?"
Look. If I can't convince you that Trump's foreign policy would be worse (even though it is), let's consider climate change. Let's consider environmental laws. You know who the first people fucked over by climate change are, no matter who it is that's fucking around? People in Africa and South America, mostly. Do you want to enable the dismantling of the EPA? Or are you willing to admit that someone whose first act upon being sworn in was to rejoin the Paris Agreement is a lesser evil in that regard, even if his foreign policy re: international weapons sales is maybe 5% less dogshit at best?
If I can't convince you that the lives of disabled and queer people in America are worth the same as anyone else's - not more, not less, but THE SAME - then can I at least convince you that not turning Brazil and Congo into 45°C uninhabitable wastelands, or at least buying some time against that ticking clock, is a worthwhile endeavor?
I know some of you think that there's a chance that if we let Trump win, it will galvanize people to fight back harder. We tried that in 2016-2020. People died. Laws against protests tightened up worse than they EVER have under Biden - I was getting emergency alerts about curfews on a daily basis, because of crackdowns against the BLM protests. The actions being taken against the antiwar protestors now are despicable, yes - but they are nowhere near the same level of intensity. Accelerationism is tricky like that though - it FEELS like you're getting more done when the pushback is harder, doesn't it? - but all it does in the end is kill more people and set precedents to set us even further back.
Trump wants to invoke the Insurrection Act. Martial law. Do you really think that we can take on the most expensive military in the world, domestically, and win?
Do you really think that there is ANY amount of "motive" that will be enough to see us WIN a sweeping Hunger Games-style, burn it all down and rebuild from zero, "revolution" - i.e., a civil war against the US military - at all, let alone in time to save a SINGLE person in Gaza, or anywhere else for that matter? Let alone in the 5-7 months it will take to elect and inaugurate a president? The system will go on, with or without us.
At the end of the day, this is a trolley problem. People are going to die, and it sucks, but there is no third option - BUT, if you pull the lever, the casualties will be fewer. The question is not of which option results in fewer deaths, it's not of which of those lives is "more important", it's not of whether or not the numbers are ACTUALLY somehow secretly equal - it is only of whether or not you can pull the lever, or at least admit to yourself that you can't bring yourself to do it instead of trying to invent a reason the higher death toll is an objectively better outcome, actually.
Please. Think calmly for a minute about what the alternative is. Remember everything Trump has very clearly said about Arabs, remember the streets named after him in Israel, before just assuming that at least he can't be any worse, let alone that he's going to somehow be good on foreign policy and spare at least one non-American for every American he kills. Think about EVERYTHING that's at stake instead of flying into a blind rage about how that evil traitorous Joe Biden wrote "gullible" on the ceiling, because when you mistake sitting on your hands for a political statement just because the plea to do so was wrapped in emotionally charged leftist lingo, you are playing PERFECTLY into fascists' hands.
Please.
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bluewinnerangel · 1 year
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Louislouislouislouislouis day 5 (day 1 - 2 - 3 - 4)
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spaciebabie · 6 months
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violet-moonstone · 8 months
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characters who are absolutely depraved are fun, but you know what's more fun? characters who start off having deeply held moral beliefs but who become so obsessed with a goal that they compromise some of the most important parts of their beliefs in order to achieve those goals
and they cant turn back because they've gone so far now - if they admit that the ends didn't justify the means, they will have lost their soul for nothing
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marchsage · 4 months
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aftermath
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