#all white men youtubers are usually outed as bad people!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ms-rampage · 2 years

Text

Familiar Taste of Poison

Lloyd Hansen x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/n has a habit of threatening Lloyd's men, so he has to teach her a lesson

Warnings: Language. Drugging. Smut. Some degradation. 18+. No minors beyond this point.

Word count: 2.1k

Sorta based on the song "Familiar Taste of Poison" by Halestorm

A/N: I do plan on writing more of Lloyd! Working on part 2 of "Sold Off"

Just by being associated with him, puts a huge target on your head. You use to live a normal life, you went to work and went back to your apartment in the city then you met Lloyd Hansen, you were lying if you didn't think he was attractive, maybe if he shaved that 70s porn-stache then yeah you'd fuck him, but you didn't really think much of him and you thought vise versa, but no Lloyd took an interest in you.

Not by how innocent you look, even though you didn't look innocent to start with, but how you held yourself, he's stopped by your work a few times, you worked in a diner, and there were a few times where you raised your voice at some entitled, impatient customers because you were short-staffed, and you also had to make coffee, take orders while you, and 2 other coworkers try to move as fast as you can taking orders and getting them out, while your manager was nowhere to be found, probably taking another smoke break, that lazy, no good asshole.

After a late shift, you finally leave, and go home. Working over time, you walk to your car, get in and drive home. Only a 15 minute drive from work to your apartment.

Fast forward to a few weeks later, you meet Lloyd again while on your lunch break. You hate the food your work serves, crappy diner food that you couldn't bare to eat because it made you nauseous, so you went to the deli that is up the street from your work, and got your usual freshly made sandwich.

You sat down, took a bite of it, and searched for a video to watch on YouTube. As you were eating, and watching your video, you felt a presence next to you, turning your head and you see him, that's right, him Lloyd Hansen, you didn't see him walk in, or when you walked into the deli, just the usuals sitting in their usual spots, doing their own thing.

“Hello sunshine.” he greets you, showing off his pearly whites.

You remove one of your earbuds, “Hi.” you respond awkwardly, “Can I help you?.”

He adjusts in his seat, facing you completely, “Yes you can.”

*8 months later*

“You want me to take out a gun, and blow a fucking hole in your head, right here, right now?!?!.” you threaten one of Lloyd’s men who is speaking utter complete nonsense which is what Lloyd absolutely hated, especially from the new guys. The so-called know-it-alls.

“Miss Y/L/N.” he mutters, scared for his life.

“You want that?!.” you threaten him.

“N-no, no Miss Y/L/N.” his voice shaking, fear in his eyes. The poor guy has been working for Lloyd for a few weeks now, and he already got on your bad side.

“Good, because I’d hate to kill another one of Lloyd’s men who thought it would be a good idea to get on my bad side.” you tell him.

“A-also, uhh, Lloyd wants to see you in his office.” he finishes before being dismissed by you.

You wave your hand as a sign for him to leave your office, which he doesn’t hesitate to do. Months ago you were working in a diner, making minimum wage, and went home exhausted, only to do the same thing again the next day until you met Lloyd. You wouldn't say you have a short temper, but working retail, and hospitality had lowered your sanity because of how stupid, and entitled people can get. You tend to see that side of humanity.

After that you didn’t worry about money, because he had it. He treated you well, he spoiled you, and not to mention the sex was unbelieveable. You knew what he did, to his, and also to your surprise it didn’t bother you, not even a bit.

After getting word from the new guy, you downed the rest of your red wine that Lloyd had sent to your office. You poured yourself a little more wine before leaving for his office which is three doors down from yours, and it also has your shared bedroom attached to it.

You approach the corridors, and open them to his office, “You wanted to see me?.”

"Yes pumpkin." he answers, standing up from his chair wiping his weapons "What have I told you about threatening my men?."

You shrug, your normal sarcastic, and smartass self "Not to threaten them."

Placing his gun onto his desk, "And what have you been doing?."

"Threatening them, but it's not my fault that they're idiots who get on my bad side.". you tell him, standing your ground like you always do. Lloyd knew what he was getting into when he took you under his wing. You're sarcastic, bold, blunt, strong-minded and straightforward.

He cups your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back to look directly up at him.

"What am I gonna do with you?." he tilts his head to the side, "Such a loose cannon."

You smile up at him, "I try.". You always had to sass him, as much as he hated it, but you knew he loved it, he just wouldn't say it.

"What was it that you said? 'You want me to take out a gun, and blow a fucking hole in your head, right here, right now' is that what you said?."

Shaking your head, "Thats exactly what I said, you heard that?."

"You said it pretty loud sweetheart." he says, squeezing your chin, "God I love that mouth of yours."

Still holding your chin, he guides you back towards the doors to your bedroom, you were lost in a trance with those blue orbits of his that you didn't even notice the back of your knees hitting the end of your bed.

You knew where this was going, and you were prepared for it. He's taken you hard, and rough before.

To his surprise yet again, he was your first time, but at the same time he was honored, and a bit cocky when he took your virginity. Him being your first time boosted his ego to a new level.

Lloyd pins you down into the bed, the look in his eyes, completely dark and sinister looking, he's not gonna show you any remorse.

You always threaten his men, the new ones mostly, and he had enough of it, you've been a bit bratty.

"You've been very bratty." he whispers in your ear, "And in gonna fuck it out of you until you can't walk properly."

Your breath hitches, your head suddenly starts spinning, vision is hazy, and you are unable to move your limbs.

"I know that look, might’ve been the wine I had sent to your office." he tells you, "Might have laced it. Might have not."

Did he drug you? If so, why? Was it necessary? He's never done it before.

"W-why?." the only word you're able to mutter.

He moves a few strains of your hair away from your face, cupping it "Because pumpkin, you're a fighter, and I'm gonna need you… restricted. Not the first time I've drugged you cupcake, but this time it was in a slightly bigger dose."

Your eyes wided, he wasn't wrong, you did enjoy fighting him when it came to sex, you've tried topping him, only for him to make you a bottom, you're very fiesty, but he did have his limits, he enjoyed taking control when you weren’t fighting, or resisting him. He could tie your hands to the headboard, and you would still find a way out of them.

The drugs he had slipped into your wine had stopped your movements completely, now you're laying there unable to move. You start to internally panic because you know what Lloyd was capable of, and only now it started to scare you.

"L-Lloyd, please." you beg, wanting him not to do this, you weren't sure about being drugged, "I'll behave, I won't fight, please."

He clicks his tongue, "Oh princess, too late now. Can't magically cure you from the drugs."

He shifts in bed, and starts to undo your pants, taking them off as well as your shoes. You couldn't tell, but you were 100% sure you were naked within a few minutes, you might still have your bra on, you couldn't tell or remember if you put one on in the first place. Your hands pinned above your head, even though he wasn't even grabbing your wrists.

Lloyd started to strip out of his clothes, you hoped no one walked in, because it would be embarrassing for you to have anyone but Lloyd to see you naked and submissive.

Yeah, you're a loud mouth, you don't take shit from anyone, except Lloyd, and you are gonna face a consequence of your actions.

It's not just sex, it's sex with Lloyd, and he is one for edging, denial, choking, degrading and overall harsh punishments.

It takes you back 8 months when you two first had sex, you wanted more of him, to feel him, to be underneath him. As much as he got under your skin, you still wanted him, it was like a sweet escape from reality, he was easy on you, but now he drugged you because you had to fight him when it came down to sex.

Without warning, he shoves his full length cock into you. You let out a loud gasp, and it felt like you got stabbed down there.

"It's okay sweetheart, you're doing so well." he whispers in your ear as he shoves himself in and out of you. Placing one of your legs over his massive shoulders.

You can feel him in your stomach, if you could look down, you'd probably see a bulge in your gut, rearranging your insides.

Not gonna lie, but being drugged made this sensation, the feeling, a lot better. The feeling of his cock going in and out with full force made you get there closer than usual, probably because you had no control over your body.

"You're such a needy little slut aren't you?." he groans, grabbing a handful of your hair "My desperate, needy little whore." Making your head go back, as he attacks your neck, continuing his fast, rough pace, stretching you out, as soft whines and mews escape your lips.

"F-fuck." you whine, as your body obeys Lloyd's movements. Tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel an orgasm coming, but you know he's gonna deny you.

"I-I'm.. gonna."

"You will do no such thing, pumpkin, you will cum when I tell you to cum. Understand?."

You loved it when he was in his dominant headspace, which was all the time. "Y-yes." you're able to whine, looking and sounding pathetic.

"Yes what?." he asks, tilting his head as he continues to rearrange your insides at an aggressive, painful pace.

"Yes, daddy."

"That's right sweetheart."

He continues to fuck you like his little toy whore, making you hit your climax, and cum, not once, not twice, not thrice but four times and each time he denied you to cum, and edge your desperate ass. Your energy was completely drained even when the drugs wore off, he kept on going, he's relentless. He knows your body better than you do.

"F-fuck daddy." you cry, feeling the painful soreness between your legs, "Fuck, you feel so good." He places a kiss on your forehead slowing down his rough pace. One hand holding your leg while the other holds the back of your head, tight grip on your hair, the only thing you can do is grip the bed sheets.

"You're so good to your daddy." he chuckles into your ear, "A loud mouth smartass, but you're so good to me."

Both your bodies covered in sweat, he rolls off of you before getting every last drop of cum into your pussy. Laying beside you with one arm behind his head. You're a panting, sweaty, messy hair mess, legs sore. Your whole body is sore, Lloyd isn't even tired, he looks like he could go another round or 2.

"I hope you learned your lesson, pumpkin." he says, turning to his side to face you. Breathing heavily, tears still running down your cheeks.

"Was drugging me really necessary?" you ask him, turning your head to look him in the eyes.

"Yes, I like it when you're submissive and I'm in control." he tells you, moving one of his hands onto your waist to bring you closer to him.

You scoff, "You're an asshole." He chuckles, moving your hair away from your face "But I'm your asshole, and you're stuck with me." He places another kiss on your forehead, before placing another on your lips.

#lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #the gray man #lloyd hansen x female reader #chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen smut

183 notes · View notes

papirouge · 10 months

Text

plot twist: @/his-most-precious-angel is Just Pearly Things and she's be lurking on my blog ever since I called her out for being a pathetic pickme 😳

Pearlie why are you hellbent in convincing everyone that 35 years old women old are uglier than 25 years old? Screams like projection tbh. Not everyone is like you, who's not even 30 yet but already looking like a solid 40 years old twice divorced middle aged woman. Btw where's your husband? I'd expect a relationship coach to be in a committed relationship already 🤔 Is it true that your last boyfriend was a black man who dumped you because of your high body count? Black men are usually very lenient when it comes to their white bunny so it had to be real bad for one to dump you like that ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Not surprising you're now coping by saying that American slavery was actually very good on slaves. Which unsurprisingly made your Black manosphere audience turn their back on you. As usual, Black women got the last laugh and had a field day watching all of you catfight 💅🏾 Black women who are precisely the ones looking real good weeeell into their thirties. You could NEVAH. I wouldn't be surprised you're secretly jealous of Black women that's why you & your Black women hating colorist Black scrote audience love dunking on us unprovoked.

Is the burn you got from your catastrophic interview with H3H3 Production still hurting? Must feel weird to argue with people having more than 2 brain cells. Another sign you should confine your deranged YouTube echo chamber and never get away from it.

#don't test me Pearlie #papi watch

22 notes · View notes

orivaa-kun · 10 months

Text

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 1: About That Life

chapter word count: 8k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

Riku groans when she hears her phone alarm chime for the fourth time tonight but begins to stir beneath the covers of her futon. All she wanted to do was rest after a long day of work – but it was that time of year again, the night of the annual gala for all Tokyo Yakuza clans.

Riku hears footsteps in the hall outside of her room, “You better be getting ready in there,” her cousin Umika warns, before swiftly sliding the screen door open and flicking on the lights. Umika sighs at the sight of Riku still in bed and shakes her head, “Typical.” Umika is already wearing her fitted, black maxi dress with lace sleeves that’s rose pattern beautifully curled around the deep tan skin of her arms. Her hair is blown out into big ringlet curls that fell around her face and reached her shoulders.

“The fuck are we celebrating, anyways… another year of crime?” Riku grumbles and throws the covers over her own head.

Umika sighs, crossing her arms as she stood in the doorway, “Riku, you know this is about showing respect to the top clans. Not going would be disrespectful in itself. Also, that crime paid for this house, so show a little appreciation, yeah?”

Riku doesn’t know why she tries to reason with Umika of all people, but continues to anyways, “But shouldn’t Uncle Jin be enough? He’s the leader of the clan, and you’re his heir!” She pulls the covers down to look at Umika.

“Look, I don’t make the rules. You get invited to the gala, you go. If you don’t, bad shit happens, and our whole family takes the hit. That’s it. Now get off your ass!”

Riku moans in feigned agony, “Fine.” She slips out of her futon, beginning to fold it up on the tatami covered floor.

“And you better hurry, too; my dad is already on the way there.” Umika begins to slide the screen door back, leaving Riku’s room, “We’re leaving in 15!”

“You hate me!” Riku shouts, dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah…” Umika waves the comment away, already down the hall once more.

When Riku appears in the main room, she’s wearing a champagne-colored, silk, and sleeveless mini dress that shimmered under the light. Without time to flat iron or do much of anything to her hair, she’d decided to wear her jet black curls in a neat, high bun, and dedicated the bulk of her 15 minutes to doing a quick ‘no-makeup’ makeup look. She fumbles her hand around in her white and black leather-lined clutch, making sure she has the essentials, “Umika, do you know where my black hee-”

Umika raises the pair of black, red-bottoms up in the air, already approaching the front door, “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Umika~!” Riku smiles over at her cousin lovingly, which is promptly ignored.

Nanami glances up from his phone at Umika’s announcement, eyes widening briefly when he sees Riku. He stands and whistles, taking a moment to admire her long legs and the glow of her café au lait skin, “Wow, you look nice-”

Riku smiles, about to thank him but is cut off by his next words.

“-was beginning to think you only wore sweatpants and t-shirts.” The blonde teases, smirking. Nanami wore an all-black suit tonight, different from his usual tan and blue shirt combination. He’s only 4 years older than Riku (25) and 2 years older than Umika (27), but he’s always far more serious about his work, that is, unless he’s having a drink with friends or cracking jokes at Riku’s expense.

She frowns, “You know, Kento, a clan bodyguard should be a lot nicer than you are.” Riku heads to the door and retrieves her heels from Umika before slipping into them.

Nanami follows behind her to activate the automatic lock on the door, “A clan bodyguard protects the clan,” he shrugs, “sorry sweetheart, not obligated to do anything else.” He begins to set up the home security system from his phone app as they make their way outside.

“Isn’t our family still ranked 11th out of the 15 clans in Tokyo?” Riku asks, genuinely, “Why do we have to go to this thing after all these damn years?” She briefly looks over the massive, combined traditional and modern style Japanese property that she and the whole Ozaki clan call home – though, it had been a bit empty with Uncle Jin and others out on business. As always, Umika and Riku were left to handle the day-to day tasks of their family’s businesses while their elders have other issues to attend to.

The trio approaches the black Chevy SUV parked in the center of the driveway circle, and Nanami opens the back door for the two women, “Your family is ranked 10th now, and though the rankings are based on each clan’s strength and annual generated revenue, we all still work together…”

“…to contribute to the Tokyo syndicate.” Riku choruses the last part with Nanami as she slips into the car behind Umika, having heard this sentence uttered at least a hundred times by Tokyo clan leaders. She rolls her eyes, “I know. Just seems useless for us to be traveling an hour into and out of the city to play dress up and drink expensive champagne... when we could, you know, be resting so we can actually have the energy to run all our damn studios, museums, and concert venues, ya know?”

Nanami closes the door once Riku is inside then slips into the driver’s seat before starting the car, “Ri, I’m already working overtime protecting you two today – you don’t have to convince me.” He begins to steer the SUV out of the circle and onto the main stretch of driveway that led to a large glossy black and bronze gate that slowly began to open at Nanami’s press of a button beside the rear-view mirror.

“You’re mistaken, Riku,” Umika speaks up, in the midst of typing up an email for something that was most likely business related, “this is part of the job.”

Riku lets her cousin’s words sink in. Well, Umika isn’t wrong about that. For a minute, Riku wonders how many other members of the Tokyo Yakuza would rather not be at the gala tonight.

“Ken, can you turn the music up?” Riku asks; it would be a long ride, after all.

“Sure thing, Ms. Ozaki.” Nanami nearly coos with a bit of extra formality, mostly because he knows how much Riku hates being addressed by her clan and family name.

When they arrive at the Gojo clan’s estate – well, one of the Gojo clan’s many estates in Tokyo – Nanami exits the driver’s seat and opens the back door for Umika and Riku before offering his hand to help each of them step down from the SUV. He meets eyes with Riku when she takes his hand, “Ma’am.”

“Shut up, Kento.”

He smirks just barely, then closes the door and tosses the keys to the valet.

There are two guards in all black suits and shades who nod at each other after sizing the three of them up, then move to open the main door to the conglomerate of mansion-like buildings. If the Ozaki home is massive, this is… simply otherworldly. It would take hours just to walk through the entire estate once. While one of the guards taps the com in his ear and mumbles something about the rest of the Ozaki family invitees entering, Riku glances over the expansive acres of property that she had only seen a few times before in years past. She takes in and notes the obvious Roman and British influences on the structure of the main building’s pillars, marble work, courtyard, and ivory shading. As visually overwhelming as the estate is, she can’t deny it is the perfect place to host hundreds of wealthy yakuza assholes.

The main door opens and the talkative noise of gangsters chatting and live musicians playing in the great ballroom immediately hits their ears. Two women in uniform check them for weapons then greet and welcome them in the entryway. The artist in Riku can’t help but hate the elaborate combination of white marble and gold all over the floors and walls; it was too stuffy and there was hardly any real sense of artistic intention driving the floor plan nor décor of this mansion, other than money, “Ugh… they call this a home?” Riku says beneath her breath, mostly to Umika who walked beside her, “Gross. How could anyone seriously live here?”

“Shh!” Umika quickly retorts, “Not the time!!” She whisper yells between closed teeth.

A uniformed man with a tray of champagne flutes strides over, and Riku takes a glass while Umika waves her hand at the man to decline. If Riku has to be here, she at least wants something to bear it a little easier. She takes a long sip from the glass as Umika scans the ballroom for her father, finally catching sight of Jin Ozaki who just happens to be at one of the bars shaking hands with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto – the youngest and strongest clan leaders of the Tokyo syndicate. That said, they are still about Nanami’s age. There’s an overwhelming presence from that side of the room in general, and Riku doesn’t want to be anywhere near it.

“Oh great, it’s your friends.” Riku remembered Nanami sharing that he’d gone to the same private school with Gojo and Geto. She takes another, much longer sip from her glass, nearly finishing it.

“I’m gonna say hi to dad and some folks. You coming?” Umika asks, with zero excitement in her voice.

“Over there? Absolutely not.” Riku shakes her head. Gojo and Geto are the strongest for a reason and isn’t just because of their clans’ combined manpower and money. It’s because of their dangerously powerful business skills and practices. They are ruthless when it comes to advancing their goals and clan business ventures and aren’t afraid to use violence to get what they want – or so Riku hears, “I’ll catch up with Uncle Jin at our table.”

Riku strides over to the seated area where a gala waitress directs her to her table. Riku thanks her when they arrive at a table with a card in the center that reads ‘10’… 10th place out of the 15 families… of course, she thinks, “Thank you, I don’t know you all remember all these names to be able to direct us so easily…” Riku says in an apologetic tone, sitting in the seat that had her name card in front of it. Of course, her seat faces the back of the room instead of the stage and she would have to twist her neck just to look at the front. She isn’t from a top ranked clan and isn’t even the heir of the family. It all makes sense, but that doesn’t make this petty seating bullshit any less annoying.

The waitress rubs the back of her neck with a shy laugh, “Hah, it’s just part of the job, ma’am. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait for the rest of the Ozaki family?” The dining area is practically empty as most are socializing over near the open bars and live music.

“Uh, yes. Can I get a really strong old fashioned, and another glass of champagne?” Riku tucks her clutch next to her in the seat and neatly folds her hands over her lap.

“Of course, Ms. Ozaki!” As soon as the words leave the waitress’s mouth, a man in uniform appears behind her and is already refilling her flute, “Just a moment for the old fashioned.” She smiles in a practiced yet kind way.

Riku nods and the woman disappears. Riku releases a soft sigh as her eyes trail over the whole ballroom, squinting a bit as she she now sees Nanami and Geto laughing and clinking glasses of whiskey, while Umika chats with some friends of hers on the opposite side of the room. Part of her wonders where Gojo and Uncle Jin had gone but she doesn’t try to think much about it. For all she knows they could be in a back room talking business or something.

Riku opens the clutch at her side to check her phone for the time. 21:40. It would be 20 minutes until the gala starts, “20 minutes closer to getting the fuck out of here…” She mutters under her breath.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

Riku turns in her seat to find two men standing behind her, one with his hand on her chair, “Hi,” she manages in a voice that is more customer-service sounding than authentic. The man with his hand on her chair seems to be in his late 30s and wears a flashy burgundy suit, while the other looks to be in his 40s and has on a gold-colored tux. Both are fashion choices that make Riku want to throw up in her mouth a little bit.

“What’s your name, sexy?” The one in the burgundy suit questions with a crooked smirk; both men look like they’ve undoubtedly been in countless fights with the many tiny scars littered around their hands and faces.

“Reina, nice to meet you,” she lied instinctively, offering her hand to shake with the man in burgundy then the one in the gold suit. She did not want her real first name floating around with whoever these guys were friends with. “You two are…?” She waits for the men to share their names.

“Reina? That’s pretty,” the man in burgundy replies, “I’m Akio, and he’s Kaito. We’re Zenin clan muscle.” Of course. Even with all their internal and external issues, the Zenin clan deals in weapons and has continued to rank 3rd for over 20 years now. Their sheer brutality is undoubtedly a big reason behind it.

Kaito lifts Riku’s hand to his mouth to kiss, instead of shaking it.

Literally kill me right now. Riku thinks to herself, continuing to feign a smile, “Haha, thank you…”

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing all by herself?” Kaito steps closer, both men towering over Riku as she’s still sitting and they’re pretty tall, themselves.

“Just waiting on my family, and bodyguard to sit down.” Riku emphasizes the last part, but the men pay no mind. They were far too busy raking their all-too-conspicuous eyes over every inch of her body. This is what Riku dreads about these kinds of functions. She glances over to where she last saw Nanami, but he’s still drinking with Geto. What do we even pay him for?

“Right,” Akio dismisses Riku’s words with his tone, breaking his gaze with her to glance over at the table; he spots the big number ’10,’ “Ten… that’s the Ozaki family this year – right, Kai?’

“Mhm.” Kaito nods affirmatively, “Who knew they had girls like this in the Ozaki family?”

“Hard to tell when they’ve never ranked under 10 before.” Akio says, and the two man laugh. “Can’t even see if they’re ugly or not, since they’re so damn far from our tables at the front of the ballroom!” He adds and their laughter turns into an all-out guffaw.

Riku’s fake smile quickly falters into a glare, “Well at least I’m not in the same family as you incestuous, murder-loving motherfuckers with dicks for brains. What’s wrong? Got tired of keeping it in the family and wanna hit on me? What will your sister-wives think?” Riku mocks, boldly. The whole ‘keeping it in the bloodline’ thing is more of a yakuza rumor, but Riku knows how much Zenin folks hate hearing it.

The men’s laughter comes to an immediate halt. Kaito bends over so his face is hardly a few centimeters from Riku’s, and Akio’s knuckles turn white at the tightness of his grasp on Riku’s chair, the wood creaking beneath his strong grip, “The fuck did you say, bitch?” Kaito questions, nearly spitting the words at her.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not afraid to teach a low rank cunt a lesson, even if she is yakuza.” Akio says, still standing up straight but glaring down at Riku, “Might even be fun, too.” He grins, sickly.

And the danger of the situation doesn’t hit Riku until this very moment. She tries to remain calm and keep her facial expression cool, but it’s more than obvious that she’s completely pissed these Zenin guys off, and she can’t help but fear how they might react.

Once again, her mouth had gotten her into trouble. Oops.

“Hey gentlemen, why don’t we keep things respectful and give the lady some space, hm?” A new voice enters their conversation, one Riku had only heard at a distance. It’s an unmistakable one.

Satoru Gojo placed his hands on the backs of the two Zenin men, and they’re ripped out of their anger-ridden trance at the sight of the white-haired man. He wears a royal blue, fitted 3-piece suit that is perfectly tailored to his tall and toned body. Small black spectacles sit low on the bridge of his nose so his cerulean eyes peek through.

The Zenin men back away, “Whatever,” Kaito mutters, shaking his head. Nobody wanted to fight Satoru Gojo. And now was not the time nor place.

Akio starts to walk away from the table with his friend by his side, “Better pray we don’t catch you alone again…” he taunts.

“Or what?” Gojo asks honestly with a dangerous glint in his eye. Riku’s pulse thumps loudly in her head when she feels the light pressure of his large hand on her shoulder.

Akio shakes his head, “Nothin’.” And the men depart to another section of the ballroom.

Gojo waits until the men are at a distance before focusing his attention to Riku.

“You good?” He takes his hand off her shoulder.

“Yeah.” Riku quickly collects herself, regaining her composure. She clears her throat, “I mean I had that covered, but thanks.”

Gojo blinks down at Riku a few times in complete silence, then suddenly bursts into laughter.

Riku feels her cheeks redden. It was that obvious she was in trouble?

When Gojo recovers from his fit of laughter, he taps Riku’s shoulder, “But seriously, beautiful, you should be more careful about what you say to these guys – sick as most of ‘em are.” Gojo suddenly drops into a squat so that he and Riku are nearly at eye level, his gaze just below hers, “What’s your name?”

The sudden proximity to Gojo makes her stagger over her words, “Reina.” Riku isn’t sure why she lies this time, perhaps out of nervous instinct?

“Reina, right.” Gojo briefly furrows his brows, “Ozaki family so you help handle the arts businesses in our city, right?”

“Yep. And you are…?” Riku asks, stretching her arm in Gojo’s direction and obviously acting as a sort of jab at Gojo. Everyone here knew who Gojo was, regardless if they’d met him personally or not. But something about his cool and confident nature makes Riku want to take him down a few notches.

“Satoru Gojo,” he chuckles out before lightly squeezing her hand, “well, if you need anything tonight, come find me, alright?” He continues to hold eye contact with Riku while he lightly flicks the name card in front of her that clearly displays her real name, “Nice to meet you, Riku Ozaki.” He winks at her, then stands before striding off towards the opposite side of the room and continuing to greet yakuza.

Riku puts her face into her hands, “I’m a fucking idiot.”

Just then the waitress reappears with Riku’s old fashioned and sets it down on the table, “Everything alright, ma’am?”

“Just perfect.”

Riku uses her fork to gently fiddle with the shrimp pasta she’d selected from the three gala menu options; it was okay, just not very flavorful. She sits beside her Aunt Risako - who’s Uncle Jin’s wife and cousin Umika’s mom. Nanami sat on the other side of her.

“You’re not going to eat?” Aunt Risako asks, cutting into her ribeye steak, “It’s good!” She smiled over at her niece, her short brown bob framing her face.

The room had finally quieted down as countless members from the 15 Tokyo families sat around their respective tables, talking, eating, and drinking between various gala speeches. Riku mirrors her aunts smile in return, “I will in a bit, just not that hungry now.”

Uncle Jin had already presented his talk about the recent venues our family had acquired and how it continues to increase our family’s income and contribution in an exponential way, but most of the families chatted through; they were far more interested in the Zenin’s talk about weapons or the Geto family’s speech about their drugs. No one cared about the arts much until it came time for entertainment.

A trio of spinning poles had been set up on the stage and Riku watches as three women pole dancers in elaborately lacy, tight costumes stroll out to dance their practiced routine. Riku recalls two of the girls’ faces, remembering that she’s she stood in to teach a handful of classes at their family’s dance studio a couple of times. Regardless, many of the men flock towards the stage to get a closer look, gawk at, and throw bills at the girls. It makes Riku want to step out for a moment. They’re not strippers, they’re pole dancers. There’s a big difference.

She pushes her chair a bit away from the table before standing and retrieving her clutch.

“Where you going?” Nanami asked, currently taking a bite of salmon.

“Bathroom.” Riku says, already waking back towards the ballroom entrance where the powder rooms and restrooms were. Riku is about to enter one but spots a more secluded bar that appears to be in a side room. She slides through the half open door’s small opening, which reveals a small yet extravagant lounge room and spread of countertop, a collection of old and expensive bottles on display behind the bar. There are only five yakuza inside and one single staff behind the bar, and this puts Riku’s mind at ease as she was happy to be away from the noise. She sits down on one of the leather bar stools, surprised by how comfy it was.

“Anything for you, ma’am?” The man behind the counter asks, wiping a class with a white rag.

Riku is already five drinks in, having had three glasses of champagne and two old fashioneds… She decides to tone it down a bit as her face was already beginning to feel warm, “Do you have a… sparkling chenin blanc by chance?”

“We do.” He smiles, “Loire Valley and all. Want to give it a try?”

“Yes, please.”

The man nods and starts to retrieve a bottle from a refrigerated shelf that’s still somehow covered in a thin sheet of dust; Riku doesn’t want to think about how expensive it is.

“Rare grape.”

Riku only notices the man behind her when he speaks up, her heart jumping in surprise when she turns to see the other half of the duo she did not want to be around tonight.

“Rare, yes, but amazing when you find a good bottle.” Riku is glad she has a few drinks in her, as her reply definitely wouldn’t have been as calm without them.

Suguru Geto plops down on the seat beside Riku, eyes holding hers as he does so. He wears a deep red shirt and a gray suit that was nearly black, his suit jacket tossed on the bar stool on the opposite side of him to reveal the red dress shirt that’s fabric is rolled up to reveal his sleeves of colorful dragon tattoos beneath which stretch all the way up to his neck. His hands were clothed in black leather gloves, “You’re right about that.” He agrees, lips curing in a small smirk as his small black eyes seemed to smile at her, “What are you doing in here?” He questions. Geto quickly diverts his attention to the bartender and taps his glass for a refill of whatever whiskey he’s drinking.

“Just needed a breather.”

Geto eyes quickly dart around around the room before refocusing on Riku, “You got a bodyguard?”

Riku rubs her fingers over the stem of her wine glass when it’s placed in front of her, “Yes.” She sighs out, “But I can handle myself.”

Geto chuckles at Riku’s response, not expecting her to be so offended by the question, “Just looking out for you, sweetheart. This is a dangerous place.” He takes a closer look at her, before raising a brow, “Ozaki family, right?”

Riku’s eyes widen in genuine surprise by the fact that he knows, sure they hadn’t personally met before, “Yeah… how’d you know?”

He lifts a finger from his glass to poke in her direction as the bartender refills it, “Your posture. I know a dancer’s body when I see one.” He takes a swig after his glass is topped off.

Riku isn’t sure why Geto’s words make her blush, but they do. She takes a sip of wine to hide it.

“What’s your name?”

She doesn’t dare lie again, “Riku.”

“What characters do you use?”

“Dignity, or awe-inspiring for the ‘Ri’ and sky for the ‘ku.’”

“That’s fitting. You’re gorgeous.” Geto’s smirk grows, but only for a moment. His smile softens as he leans over, closing a lot of the space between them. Riku is sort of startled by how intimate the other is able to make something as trivial as a greeting. Geto pokes his hand in her direction, the words spilling so soft and kindly from his mouth that they truly feel like a compliment, “Very nice to meet you, Riku. Call me Suguru.” Geto’s long black hair falls over his shoulder and Riku gets a whiff of his cologne. Of course, he smells great.

“Nice to meet you, Suguru.” Riku slowly shakes Geto’s hand, internally screaming. She could not take being so close to the drug clan’s leader for this long. Though it was just a greeting, her heart was doing backflips out of surprise, attraction, fear…? She’s unsure of which one; perhaps all three. First Gojo, now him?

“Tell me about yours-” Geto starts, but both of their thoughts are silenced by the sound of an automatic gun shooting into the air of the main ballroom.

Their eyes widen, and Riku is frozen in her seat with fear. Through the small opening of the door, she’s able to spot suited men with rifles enter the ballroom en masse, the whole room beginning to stir with yells and screams. The thunder of a hundred footsteps sounds as yakuza leaders, wives, and their adult children trample towards the main doors.

Before she realizes it, Geto is already at the side of the door in a safe position. He retrieves his handgun from his waistband and holds it expertly between his hands, ready to shoot anything or anyone that may enter the side room they were in.

The bartender and few other folks in the room had already fled, leaving just the two of them.

“You need to get out of here gorgeous.” Geto says, nodding towards the exit opposite to the door he currently stands by – that leads to the great ballroom where gunshots continuously sound. Riku is still frozen.

“Riku? Riku!” When she snaps out of her daze, Geto is at her side, her arm in his tight grasp, “I said you need to get out of here!” He shouts over the screams and shots in the ballroom. Wasn’t this supposed to be a weaponless event?!

“B-But my family!!”

“You better hope your bodyguard is protecting them,” He begins, but is cut off when two men notably from the Zenin clan appear, guns raised in Geto’s direction.

Geto doesn’t hesitate, using one hand to move Riku behind his back to shield her and the other to quickly shoot down the two men, hitting one in the hand and the other in his abdomen.

Riku watches in horror as their blood begins to spread over the marble floor, the color draining from her face.

“Zenin clan? What the fuck…?” Geto trails off in thought, not scared like Riku but equally astonished by this recent turn of events.

The two of them are both alarmed when Gojo barges through a third door Riku didn’t notice before, the white-haired man’s black spectacles now gone and his suit a bit disheveled – most likely from fighting.

His piercing blue eyes dart to Riku in confusion, “You…?” He shakes the distraction from his head before looking over at his friend, breathing heavily from previously running.

“The fuck is going on, Satoru??!”

“It’s Toji. Toji and a bunch of muscle from the Zenin clan are staring an uprising.” He walks closer to his friend and Riku, who’s still tucked behind his Geto’s back.

“Fuck.” Geto releases Riku to roughly run a hand through his hair.

“The hell are you doing here?!” Gojo peers down at Riku in confusion, anger, and concern, but mostly anger, “Your family’s already outside!”

Riku was relieved to at least hear that and opens her mouth, about to explain herself; Geto cuts her off, “We need to get her the fuck out of here.” He says, surprisingly calm.

Gojo releases an exasperated sigh, shaking his head and looking at Riku in a pissed sort of way that explains everything he isn’t saying: that she would slow them down, “Jesus Christ, beautiful, you sure are fucking good at getting your ass into trouble.” He grabs her arm, pulling her into his side before starting to make his way towards the 3rd door he’d just entered through that leads to a connecting meeting space.

Gojo and Geto are on high alert as they maneuver though the space, stopping behind tables and desks to occasionally scan the room for any hidden intruders. When a bald man in a bright orange suit enters, Gojo tosses Riku into Geto, and she yelps. Geto’s thick tattooed arm locks around her waist and pulls her into him as his friend handles the bald man with a few powerful punches and a harsh kick to his side. The man falls to the floor, immediately falling unconscious.

This continues through a series of connecting rooms, Riku practically being thrown between Gojo and Geto as they punched and shot their way through the mansion, most likely aiming for the building’s back exit. Geto feels Riku’s body tremble with fear one of the times he’s holding her and can’t help but feel for her. It’s obvious she isn’t used to this kind of violence and if this is what it means to be a member of one of the higher ranked families, then Riku wants no parts of it.

“Don’t worry, babe. We got you.” He tries to reassure her, briefly squeezing the arm he had wrapped around her waist while Gojo took out a duo of men in black suits.

Riku vaguely feels her phone vibrate from inside her clutch but it’s the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. She looks up at Geto, who’s eyes were still scanning the room. Riku could tell the soft smile on his lips was directed to her and nodded.

Suddenly, a side door busts open with a loud bang and five men pour in with guns drawn.

“Shit, beautiful, maybe not…” Suguru says so only Riku can hear.

“Everyone, hands up!” One of the armed men shout, pointing his gun in the direction of Gojo, who pushes his arms into the air in mock surrender.

“Hey, now, why don’t we settle this the old-fashioned way?” He asks with a smirk, as he was currently unarmed.

“Fuck you, Gojo.” The main man says, ignoring Satoru’s offer as fighting the strongest yakuza in Tokyo hand-to-hand was basically the same thing as letting him win, “Keep your hands up.”

Three of the men point their guns in Geto and Riku’s direction, “You two, too! Drop the gun, Geto!”

Geto does as the men say, allowing the silver handgun to thump to the floor before pushing his hands in the air. Riku follows suit, swiftly hiding her phone between her breasts before discarding her clutch altogether and raising her hands in the air.

“Out!” The fifth man commands, motioning with his gun for the three of them to exit the room and return to the main banquet hall.

The three of them slowly trail out and are led through the now completely abandoned ballroom - except for the five Zenin muscle that brought them here and one other man. Riku can tell the man is ripped just from his broad back alone. He turns and Riku sees the man she’d only heard rumors about prior to this moment.

A wicked grin spreads across his face at the sight of Gojo and Geto, and he starts to laugh, smile curving the large gash-like scar at the corner of his mouth. Toji. The undoubtedly powerful man wore a black suit like the bulk of his men, but it was visibly far more expensive than the rest. The tailored clothing just barely contained the thickness of his muscled form.

“Ah, just the people I’ve been meaning to see.”

“Awful to see you too, asshole.” Gojo replies with a smirk.

“What the fuck do you want now, Toji?” Geto asks, a look of disgust on his face. Guns still pointed at them so the three kept their hands raised.

“Well money of course, for one, but before that,” his eyes move to Riku. He walks over to her, a lustful, downright disgusting look in his eyes, “who do we have here?” He smooths his calloused, scar-littered fingers under Riku’s chin, trailing them down to her chest. She tries to push the man away, but he quickly grabs both her wrists in one of his hands, smirk only growing as Riku scowled up at the tall, bulky man.

“She’s no one,” Satoru starts, trying to protect her, “just a low rank clan family member. This isn’t about her.”

“Hey, fuck you, I’m not no one…” Riku starts, only realizing what Gojo was trying to do after the words slip from her lips. Her eyes widen.

Toji laughs again, closing the space between the two of them, “I like this one… She’s got some spunk to her.” Toji glances to Gojo and Geto with an evil look, “Would be fun to break her.”

“Toji you-” Gojo begins to move but freezes to the click of a handgun being loaded beside his ear.

“Whoa there, careful! Wouldn’t want to lose your brains now, would you?” Toji shouts, tone both overdramatic and disgusting, “Now, back to you, pretty…” He returns his gaze to Riku. Even if she’s no one to Gojo and Geto, Toji likes fucking with the duo’s sense of justice and knows they’d try to protect her regardless, “What’s your name?”

Riku spits in his face before responding, “None of your fucking business, prick.” She grumbles in anger, attitude as bad as ever. A small, satisfied smirk finds her lips as she watches her spit roll down Toji’s scarred face.

Geto exchanges looks with his friend, his exasperated expression saying everything words didn’t need to: Is this bitch crazy? Spitting at Toji??!

Toji’s grin turns into an unsatisfied look, clicking his tongue at Riku’s actions, “Now that’s not the answer I was looking for…” He shakes his head, removing his trailing fingers from Riku’s body before brutally smacking his palm over Riku’s cheek with a hard thump.

Riku’s head twists to the side, and she immediately begins to taste blood in her mouth as it is, without question, the strongest slap she’s ever received in her life. Pain jolts in the bones of her neck and she already begins to feel the skin of her face bruise and swell.

Toji grabs Riku’s face, and she feels like he could crush her skull in his hand if he wanted to. A tear streams down her swollen check at the intense pain. The man with spiky black hair repeats himself, an angered look in his eyes in response to Riku’s disrespectful action, “Your name.” He demands.

“Ymvr…” Riku mutters, barely able to speak with Toji’s grip on her jaw.

“What was that?” He leans in closer to the girl with a smirk as she writhes in pain, ear pushing closer to her lips.

“Your mother.” She finally manages, using Toji’s grip on her hands to steady herself as she quickly raises her legs, the bulky man now unintentionally holding her weight in the air as she swiftly sends the strongest kick she can manage to his balls.

“Agh!!” Toji’s face twists and he yells in agony, both him and Riku collapsing to the floor.

Gojo and Geto exchange looks again, both using the surprise of this situation as an opportunity to take out the two men directly behind each of them, first twisting and jabbing their arms to steal their guns away. They quickly make work of the rest of the five men, shooting some in non-vital places and kicking others.

All the while, Toji is groaning from the floor, “You bitch…!” He spits between clenched teeth, hands cupping his crotch.

Riku stumbles to her feet, abandoning her one remaining high heel before making a dash for the back door, “Coming?” She questions as she quickly breezes past Gojo and Geto, who had just finished kicking the last of the Zenin muscle.

“Yeah, let’s get the fuck outta here.” Gojo says with a final kick, and the two run out the door behind Riku.

“Uhh, car?!” Riku half asks, half yells once they’re outside, praying one of the two men had one nearby.

“Mhm, this way,” The dark of the night sky temporarily camouflages the men outside of Geto’s red shirt and Gojo’s white hair, that is, until Riku’s eyes adjust. Gojo reaches forward, “Matter of fact…” he grabs Riku’s waist and throws her over his shoulder, already beginning to move in an all-out sprint.

Riku yelps at suddenly being manhandled, now only able to see the white of Geto’s smirk as he ran behind Gojo. He thought this was funny?!

“What are you doing?!” She whisper-yells.

“Sorry, babe, easier to move this way.” Gojo gives the back of Riku’s thigh a small smack, that makes her face turn bright red with embarrassment.

Geto tries to hold back a laugh but fails after seeing the look on Riku’s face.

Finally they arrive at a large garage and Gojo hits a code into a keypad at the side of the building, Riku still over his shoulder. The door slowly rises off the ground and they slip in, Gojo grabbing the keys to his Lamborghini Urus before unlocking the doors.

Riku is thrown into the back seat and before she can get her bearings together, the engine is starting and the SUV wheels screech forward from a halt and out of the driveway.

Geto looks back at Riku from the passenger seat, “Buckle up, Riku, this guy’s a shit driver.” He smirks.

“That’s not true, I’m a great driver. Especially in these conditions—“ Gojo says with a sharp turn of the wheel and suddenly they’re speeding through the grass of the courtyard. Riku hears a few gunshots sound in the distance and buckles up before putting her head down. There's the yelling of a few Zenin clan men and the gunshots continue, a few bullets even piercing the back of the window, but none pass through.

Gojo chuckles when he quickly glances at Riku in the rear-view window, “It’s bulletproof, babe.” He explains, then takes another sharp turn to a roughly 400-meter-long driveway that leads to the main road.

Riku slowly sits up, worriedly looking out each of the windows before seeing that they were finally at a good enough distance from the Gojo estate. She takes a shaky, deep breath to calm herself down, almost wanting to cry at everything that had just transpired.

“Hey,” Geto’s tattooed arm reaches back, and he brushes his leather-covered thumb over Riku’s swollen red cheek, “You alright, beautiful?”

She looks up at him, the fear finally beginning to fade from her eyes. She’s safe with them. Riku nods, shakily.

“What a night!” Gojo laughs, “I mean who the fuck was expecting that?”

“Right?” Geto grins at his friend.

Riku furrows her bows, “You both think it’s funny? All those people hurt and in danger?!”

Gojo’s smile fades, “Oh no, that? That was absolutely fucked up… Also you don’t think I’m upset they pulled that shit in my house?” He switches from anger to charm so quick it’s almost scary, “But come on, Riku, that ‘your mother’ line was fucking priceless and you know it.” Gojo smirks again.

Geto laughs, still looking back at her from the front passenger seat, “You’re a legend, Riku. I don’t know how many people living can say they kicked Toji in the balls.”

Gojo laughs but his hand grips the gearshift so hard that his knuckles are white. He isn’t kidding; Riku understands that Gojo is probably the angriest yakuza in Tokyo tonight.

Riku joins in on their laughter with a small giggle, trying to ease the mood.

Geto turns back around to face the front but squeezes Riku’s thigh before looking to his friend, “Satoru, let’s get her some ice and take her home.”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees and adjusts his mirror to get a better look at Riku, “fucked to see a pretty face bruised up like that.” He pauses, thinking for a moment, “You hungry at all, beautiful?”

“Starving.” Riku admits, regretting not having eaten her meal at the gala.

“Good, ‘cause I know a place and got a few calls to make.”

Geto looks at his friend knowingly, “You need some of my men?”

Gojo shakes his head and lowers his tone, giving Geto a hard look, “Not in front of her. She’s already in the mix of things enough as it is.”

Geto nods.

Gojo raises his voice again, “We’ll take you to one of our favorite spo-"

He’s cut off by Riku’s phone that loudly vibrates in her chest. She’d forgotten it was there. Riku retrieves the iPhone from inside her bra and sees ‘NANAMI’ flash across the screen. She quickly slides her finger across to talk. Before she can say anything—

“Riku! Fuck, finally!! Where are you?!!” He yells through the line.

“Nanami, I’m good, I’m fine… I’m in the car with Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo.”

“You’re what!?”

“It’s fine! They’re going to take me home, okay?”

“Is that Nanamin? Tell him I say hi!” Gojo happily beams, shouting from the driver’s seat.

Apparently Nanami hears that because he groans, “Jeez, Ri, what the hell happened?!”

Riku sighs, “A lot. But the gist is… Toji slapped me in the face, I kicked him in the balls, and we got away.”

“You WHAT??!?!!”

Riku laughs awkwardly, “But we got away and things are fine for now. They’re gonna take me home after we stop and get some ice for my face.”

Nanami is silent for a moment, and Riku can sense his anger through the phone, “Put Satoru on the phone, right fucking now.”

Riku hands her iPhone to Gojo, who quickly takes it and answers with a bright, bubbly tone, “Nanamin! How are you?”

“Look. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, or what business you have to do to clean this shit up, but if Riku comes back here tonight with anything more than a bruised cheek, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Gojo smiles at the seriousness in Nanami’s tone, “Wow, Kento, I didn’t know you cared about your job so much… What are you in love with her or something?” Gojo grins over at Geto in the passenger seat, “Yeah, yeah, Riku delivery service is on the way.” He glances back at her for a moment before refocusing on the road, “We won’t let anything happen to her. But you know, it’s the fault of her smart-ass mouth that made Toji slap her, anyways.” He shrugs.

“…That unfortunately sounds about right.”

“Well, okay, Nanamin! You’re kind of breaking up,” Gojo shouts, turning up the music from the car stereo as he held the phone between his head and shoulder, “so, talk to ya later!” Once he’s finished increasing the volume to near-max levels, Gojo retrieves the phone once more and hits ‘end’ on the call before tossing it back to Riku, who swiftly clasps it between her two hands.

Riku rolls her eyes and sits back into her seat, knowing she was in for a wild ride in more ways than one.

31 notes · View notes

spacedoutsheepy · 8 months

Text

Ben Shapiro sits down at his computer, and practically rubs his hands together in glee. This is it. He pauses to look at his old youtube thumbnails and headlines. Liberals destroyed. Leftists owned. Facts and logic. Those were the glory days, when he could capture the internet by its balls, when people unironically held him as a champion, and dunks were so deliciously easy to pull off. What happened? What happened to me, he asks himself, running his hands over his thin and greasy beard he hastily grew to cover up a botched lip job. It used to be so EASY! But no matter how many times he "owned" the feminists, they never seemed to actually stop advancing, and cultural trends never seemed to halt. He had been getting clowned on since his debacle with WAP, and his being on the other end of dunks and takedowns had become a meme unto itself. How had it all gone so wrong? How had he become a joke?

Well no longer, he says. No more, because this time he has a guaranteed home run. He sat through Barbie with stars in his eyes and a tent in his briefs, because this was something familiar. No nuance or complicated rhetoric which muddied his black-and-white debate style, no terms he didn't fully understand and would get clowned on later for whiffing his rebuttal of them, this was something he knew the shape of— something he knew how to Destroy. Women talking about Patriarchy, All-men-are-bad themes, victim culture, yeah this was feminism CLASSIC, baby, this is what he THRIVED on back in the day. The glory days were not beyond reach, he could pull off an easy dunk like he used to, and he'd be back on top of the game. He cracks his knuckles...

And nothing comes out. He stares at the blank screen, wondering where to even start. Where to start picking apart the movie, what angle to approach from, what to own first with his mighty facts and logic. But he can't. He gets up and slouches his way to the dark kitchen to eat some of the cold leftovers from his lunch with Desantes. His daughter's homework is on the table and he scans it. Was it woke? He could get at least a youtube short out of something he would find in there. But he can't focus.

Something about Barbie has lodged in his mind like a splinter made of frozen windex. He KNOWS it's wrong, it has to be, he's based his entire living on it being wrong, but he can't formulate a debunking. But it has to be bad. Feminism is bad. Patriarchy is a word made up by feminists to get mad at. Feminists are supposed to be irrational, juvenile, screeching harpies that he can look comparatively mature standing next to. It was his whole brand. But the movie is a fun, lighthearted romp with rudimentary points presented plainly and matter-of-factly. It presents itself and its message so plainly that there are no finnicky technicalities he can wield to destroy it. It leans into its presentation and own over-the-top tone hard enough that his usual "debate" style of simply pointing and going "that's cringe and I'm calm and in control therefor I'm right" would bounce right off. And as a movie, it's good. It's a well put-together film with an engaging story and funny writing and a creative visual style. No matter where he tries to start taking it apart from, he can't find a foothold.

His brow furrows. No. No, it won't end like this. Barbie is bad. Barbie is bad. Barbie HAS TO BE BAD. He has to dunk on it, win the cultural battle that it doesn't even know or care that it's fighting. He starts to seethe. It's bad. How? He sits down, opens his laptop, and begins to type up a script. Without any genuine analysis or critiques he can mount, he starts venting his raw emotion. A garbage fire. A shitshow. He keeps going, channeling the ghost of James Rolf's last shred of integrity. "A flaming piece of dog shit piled atop an entire dumpster on fire piled atop a landfill filled with dogshit," he types. It feels GOOD to get mad, to unload his pent up and confused frustrations at the object of his ire. He's doing it. He's owning it SO hard! He continues uninterrupted, going on and on about the fact that it sucks, with no elaboration or meaningful point. He loses composure. He clings to any thread of respectability while shedding any pretense of intellectualism. He must show that the movie is bad, even though his only evidence is his feelings, which don't care about your facts!

Ben Shapiro has been thoroughly and irrevocably Triggered.

#Barbie #Ben Shapiro #fiction #facts and logic

3 notes · View notes

dreamingsushi · 1 year

Text

Till the End of the Moon - Episode 1

As I finished the last episode of Dance of the Phœnix I was on a layover, trying to find motivation for the gym and Youtube decided to switch videos without asking my opinion, casting this show on the hotel tv. I was actually going to watch maybe a BL drama on Viki since they’re usually short and I have a lot of unfinished series ongoing. However, reading the synopsis made me curious about that one, so I decided to check it out instead. So here we are for another journey. It’s going to be a long one, but oh well. I just enjoy costume drama so much. Even though they are so often frustrating. I’m now heading to the gym and this will be my reward for working out.

It starts off pretty well for me. The animation during the opening is very gorgeous, I really like it. The song itself is also nice, which is a bonus too. It went by very quickly, it thought it was merely 30 seconds or so. I don’t listen to openings every episodes, but I like to take the time to do so when watching the first episode of a new series. It usually gives the tone of the rest the drama and it helps to see a little better in what kind of story we are getting into. It doesn’t guarantee the quality, yes I know. Sometimes the OST are good, but the rest is very bad. Anyways, just to say I would recommend taking a look at least once to the opening.

It begins with weird creatures fighting alongside and against some figures that looks human. There’s alose a guy on a big floating throne being referred to as the god of the demons (literal translation, he must be their lord). So far the wigs aren’t so good, especially the white one. White wigs always look extremely bad on younger actors and actresses, in my opinion. The CGI so far doesn’t look that great. Like it’s not bad as it was when it began, but it’s just unpolished. I’m not a fan of the costumes either. I hope they didn’t spend all the money for visuals on the opening. World domination and the end of the cultivators seem to be the objective here.

I really hope that they change the hairstyle of the female lead, I don’t like it when they make the girls have hair going all around their head. But at some point, I’m also so used to the intricate hairstyles of Dance of the Phœnix, if this one doesn’t step up, it will be hard for me to appreciate. Anyways, she’s keeping watch on a map with all the different cultivation sects. Names are going down as they are being destroyed by the lord of the demons. She goes to try and save the old men fighting him. She grabs the artifact he came after. There are way too many special effects. She fights to keep the mirror of the past. She’s not strong enough to beat him (which seems rather impossible to be honest, cause he’s really boosted to the max). But as she’s about to die, the mark on her forehead shines and pushes the demon lord away. Her blood falls on the pendant activating some sort of power, taking her somewhere. There a man speaks to her, saying she could change fate. The demon lord wasn’t always a demon, so she should see him with her heart and remember him. Then start some visions of the demon lord, probably younger, being bullied by other humans. She needs to go back in time to prevent him from becoming a demon. The mirror of the past breaks down. Her brother disciple protects her dans tells to leave him behind. His piece is very nice, I like it. But I guess I won’t see it again anytime soon, because he sacrifices himself to get the dark lord away from Susu (female lead).

Bakc to her people, Susu shows her father the images of when the demon lord was still human. She volunteers to travel to the past to prevent to future to happen as it is now. Her dad is absolutely not agaisnt it. As soon as he sees her mark on her forehead shine, he says that it’s her destiny. Only 20 minutes in and there’s already a chose one. I guess it works. Chinese dramas, especially Xianxia dramas, tend to be rather chaotic during the first episode. It’s really a test to see who’s going to embark on the journey and who will leave without trying to board the ship. I remember I understood nothing of the first episode of the Untamed, it was visually unappealing and yet it was one (if not the) of the best drama I ever watched. So we should give this a chance. I guess war being confusing is quite normal. Anyways, they task her to kill the demon lord before he could become one.

While they send her to the past, the demon lord attacks. I like how they used a buddha to portray the barrier that the cultivators are erecting. Before she leaves, her father gets killed too, the uncle sending her away dies too. Everybody dies and we just started. Good. She’s the only one left. Then before travelling back to the past, she swears to kill Tantai Jin (demon lord’s name).

When she opens her eyes, her mark on her forehead disappeared. A maid comes to her. So she took someone else’s place, she didn’t move her own body in time? I like her new hairstyle better. The clothes are much more nicer too. Seems like she’s a little lady, second daughter of someone influent or rich. Not sure. The lady she ended up becoming was being chased by truants and she fell while trying to escape, causing her to hit her head and faint. Then as the maid, Chun Tao, tells her about it, the truants find them and Susu (now Ye Xiwu) tries to flee by flying, but obviously it doesn’t work, since she’s only human. She tries to fight them back, but as a normal person she’s very weak and she can’t even summon her weapon. One of the men keeps winking at her. But when she’s about to get killed, a man comes to her rescue. He looks exactly like her disciple brother, so she runs to him but he’s cold to her. She calls his name but he doesn’t really react to it. Seems like he’s a prince. He says that he only saved her because he was passing by, so she shouldn’t get the wrong idea. Maybe the original Ye Xiwu had feelings for the prince? Yup. But now he’s about to marry her elder sister instead.

Oh! So the bad guy was winking because she hired them so the prince would come and save her. Ye Xiwu original was pretty conniving.

Back home, she asks Chun Tao about Tantan Jin and she says that he’s her father? I must have misunderstood, he doesn’t have the same family name? Anyway, Susu faints upon hearing that. Okay maybe not father, but some sort of uncle or cousin? Thank you Pleco for being a loyal source of knowledge. Okay no, side note, seems like he’s actually her husband. Even though it seems weird he would come and live with her, since it’s usually the opposite. But I will find out soon enough haha. I really need to brush up my Chinese skills. Chun Tao reveals that what he’s the most afraid of is Ye Wuxi. She finds him kneeling in the garden covered in snow. As he looks weak, she thinks she should kill him as soon as possible. But once she’s in front of him, she seems rather troubled and distracted from her mission. But then she remembers that to completely kill him and make sure that no one will become the demon lord, she should find the evil inside of him, so she can’t act rashly. She asks him if he wants to kill her and then his look confirms to her that it is really him. He’s kneeling outside because he went to save her older sister instead of her. She learns that Tantai Jin also likes her older sister. It seems he’s also some sort of a prince, but his father doesn’t care about him?

But that’s it for now. This was a very chaotic episode, so I can’t really say if I liked it or not. However the main lead seems kind of funny. I a have few Scarlet Heart throwbacks watching this with the main character ending up travelling back in time and being the daughter of an official being in love with the prince marrying her sister. Obviously, it’s going to take a different route, but I loved that drama it’s nice to see something somewhat similar yet different. The visuals really improved as son as she time travelled. The costumes are much prettier and the screen feels a lot less overwhelmed by way too many CGI. I think then went a little bit overboard with it. It shows that technology improved, but it’s still far from being seamless and effortless. I would rather see a little less so I can concentrate on the main action instead of being distracted all the time. However I have faith that they won’t have too many opportunities to overwhelm me again like so because for now the two main leads are only humans without spiritual energy, so I don’t think there should be that many scenes with spiritual energy and dark creatures involved.

The ending was very nice too, I like it.

I’m curious to see what is going to happen with this one. 40 episodes isn’t too long, but with the synopsis they gave online it could run in circles quite quickly if the only mission is to kill the guy and spark of evil inside him. See you soon! This recap is already long enough as is.

#till the end of the moon #luo yunxi #bai lu #deng wei #xianxia #xianxia drama #cdrama #c-drama #chinese drama #costume drama #drama review #drama recap

4 notes · View notes

emojifarm · 23 days

Note

mcyt-anon here, i have a few responses

1 - i have not seen that clip, and if that is true / if you have proof, then that is a fair take on my point. i gave technoblade the mention because i don't hyper-analyze most mcyt i watch, and technoblade's charity was on my mind recently. but again, that's just one random youtuber from the dream SMP, which doesn't encompass all of mcyt

2 - that's why i said, in the second anon, that it would be better for a specific blog to do said research and to reblog the emojis instead of you.

3 - "As I previously said, I'm not making a broad assumption." you say, then say that you don't support "MCYT". it's like saying i don't support roleplay blogs because a few have been cringe and bad. yes, roleplay blogs are much different than minecraft youtubers, and there are people who will be issues in both communities, but as someone who likes to watch minecraft youtubers and who sees people making broad assumptions constantly in relation to communities people like, i wanted to try and explain it. because, the way you worded it, you were using the broad term and so it sounds like a broad assumption.

4 - i know my anons are quite rambly, but it confuses me when you say you don't support an entire genre of youtube. in an overall sense, it's not that deep, yes, but you were using broad terms to describe some bad people in a group.

i think the "you're acting like someone who uses not all men" idea is a silly argument too, since yes, it IS not all men. there are some problems with the patriarchy / misogyny that can affect most men and how they behave, but many who use that term also usually mean it to mean "cis white men with privilage who use it to harass people" and then generalize others and sometimes are even transphobic in their usage of the idea (seeing trans men or trans women as threats because of their connection with manhood, in whichever direction.)

also, my anons might not be "healthy", but i find reason in my reaction, since very often people who treat "mcyt" as a specific group of the minecraft youtuber genre also treat their fans as inherently toxic and seem to assume we all know every flaw and bad thing every mcyt has done, or assume most people who like mcytbrs somehow condone the bad things said youtubers have tried to hide or wave off. minecraft youtube. MCYT, is a general term, and it's really frustrating for people who use it to make it mean specifically youtubers they don't like or have a certain amount of subscribers/popularity or w/e. every youtuber who makes minecraft content on the regular is a minecraft youtuber.

tldr: you saying "MCYT" as an acronym is generalizing, even if you meant a certain selection of minecraft youtubers, and i was simply pointing out my frustration and issues with you generalizing that genre/type of youtubers.

You can just block me instead of sending me more essays, you know? I've said all that I'm going to say on this topic and starting a looping argument is not worth the time and energy. Again. Someone setting a boundary is not an invitation for you to nitpick said boundary.

#I'm a 25 year old man. i don't have time for angry teens getting upset over fandom crap in my inbox.

1 note · View note

superhenryjones · 9 months

Text

Overheating Dream Journal #1

I'm starting a journal for my weird dreams I have during the Summer for the sake of having them written down somewhere. Enjoy if you'd like.

This one was probably subconsciously inspired by watching the 2010 A-Team in the background as the YouTube free movie of the night. It's bizarre as a pretty accurate retelling of the A-Team without irony or reflection post-9/11, so it plays like Team America: World Police not getting the joke with massive amounts of collateral damage and a half-dozen inter strongly incidents over counterfeit money printing plates (So... the last ten minutes of Team America where the point is, "There are WAY worse people out there who want to blow you up, so let US blow you up!").

Anyway, my dream is a parody of a technicolor 1960's film called "DISARM, KILMER!" shot in modern days. It's about a cigar-chomping general who leads a team of off-the-books army operatives in World War II. Their mission to start the movie is getting two Japanese scientists who are going to defect who are clearly white guys in bad makeup out of a Japanese facility that is clearly the Pacific Front and not some rocks in Southern California (And defection clearly works on the Pacific theater like it does in Europe).

They have to destroy a tank that is extremely blue, obviously a model, and looks like a super weapon from a Godzilla movie rather than something from World War II. After blowing it up, they are surrounded by Japanese troops who hear the noise, surrounding them. The leader shouts in an American voice, "DISARM, KILMER!" and the title slaps on syllable by syllable in deep red with a curvy font trying to be manly and the frame freezes. Then a choir of men usually reserved for Westerns starts singing the theme song. "DIS-ARM, KIIIIIILMER! You're a menace tp your fellow army man!"

Following every comedic beat, there is a freeze frame with credits and another bar of the theme song. The first beat is the Japanese soldiers throwing off full-body disguises, revealing American troops. The next is Kilmer's international crack team of various races ripping off their full-body disguises to reveal all handsome white guys except for the tomboy sniper, who is actually a 60's version of a supermodel. The next beat is the black football player making the jump to acting (Think Jim Brown in Dirty Dozen) looking around at all his teammates and saying, "What the hell, man?!" I don't think the dream had a specific player, but my mind filled in Patrick Mahomes with full 2020's mohawk. Yeah, that totally works.

The final comedic beat is this dialogue:

Kilmer: You had this base locked up before we got here?

Kilmer's guy 1: That kinda' defeats the point of us being here.

Kilmer's guy 2: Yeah. And who the hell did we kill?

*Pause for the director credit and thr choir going, "DISARM, KILMER, THE WESTERN DIED AND NOW THIS IS OUR ONLY JOOOOOOOB!"*

Everybody just laughs, and it fades to a private booth at a football game in America. Keep in mind football was shut down because, you know, WORLD WAR II, and the technicolor footage in the rear projector is clearly a 1960's game that occasionally has the broadcast team show up in the footage.

There's a Colonel explaining their hardest and most secrry mission yet and complimenting them as the best of the best.

Kilmer: Why did you pay to fly us all back to this public football game for something this secret?

Colonel: Because this is the most American place in the world. No spies will be here.

Stadium beer wrench popping in and asking in a thick German accent: Do you need any more drinks, Herr Kilmer?

Kilmer: No thanks, we're good.

That's about when I wake up. There's one more detail where one the guys is telling the football player what's happening in the game, and Mahomes' responds with growingly irritated, "I KNOW" until he explodes and says, "I did an on-field tribute for that guy when he died. I KNOW." And that's it.

Everyone I talk to about this wants to see this become a thing. Well, that's highly unlikely since I hate most 1960's war movies, and you have to have a certain love for what your parodying, otherwise it's mean-spirited or shooting fish in a barrel. Being "too good" for the material shows whether you want it to or not.

0 notes

gaykarstaagforever · 9 months

Text

FREE ON YOUTUBE

I just watched 12 Angry Men. Because while you have to pay YouTube for Osmosis Jones now, 12 Angry Men is free.

(I'm talking about the 1957 original. They also did a TV movie remake in 1997, that is ALSO free, on Tubi, which also has the original. I haven't seen the 1997 one. But it has a great cast so I'll probably check it out. Say what you will about 2023, but at least the 12 Angry Men cinematic universe is free to explore!)

The original is usually considered one of the Greatest Movies of All Time, by people who write books no one reads. And in some ways, sure. This is a 90 minute black and white movie that is 12 sweaty men in one room, yelling at each-other for 90 minutes, and it is never boring. That is 100% brilliant filmmaking. You can literally make anything compelling with good lighting and shot composition and directing, and this is that.

Now. As for the actual content of the movie, it is...pretty good? But very heavily stylized, and that is certainly a thing. These guys never really act like actual human men, they are all characters in a play going through character arcs. And that's fine, as far as plays go. But it never goes beyond that.

This isn't in any way an accurate portrayal of how a real jury would work, and I don't think it's trying to do that. So that's okay. But that means it is all very arch and melodramatic and people keep giving speeches, literally to the audience. And it's hard to connect with that emotionally. These guys aren't people, they are archetypes Henry Fonda has to break emotionally so that they will see the error of their ways and do what is right. And like almost every episode of Law & Order, they do. Sensibility and objective justice win. The system works. We are GOOD people, deep down.

Look. It was 1957. That sort of broad naivete was still in vogue for a lot of people. This movie can't be expected to be bigger than when it was made. And it isn't. So it is a very good movie, that is utterly a thing from 1957 that probably has very little to say to anyone now. Other than, racism is bad, don't let a man be executed just because you are mad at your family. And fine, those are good morals. But Henry Fonda and Piglet declaring that at me is of mixed effectiveness. And I already believe those things!

Another common criticism about this movie, and this era of movies in general, is that good acting then = a man suddenly yelling / getting violent. And boy howdy, is that a true fact here. I wouldn't say that makes it bad acting, but I also feel that criticism is very fair. Henry Fonda never does that, but...well, the whole point of his character is his almost supernatural serenity in his conviction that he's in the right. And that is not really anything I could latch on to: he's just the Good Guy from moment one, and that's it for the next 90 minutes until he wins. Again, the broadness was intentional. This is a morality play. But that doesn't make it better.

Again, it is a great movie, on a technical level, at least. This is how you make a movie. Especially when the material is good but innately a little flat.

#movie review #12 angry men #free on youtube

0 notes

labseraph · 10 months

Text

Caitlin Moran on Jordan Peterson: ‘I fear for any man in a crisis turning to him'

By Caitlin Moran

7 July 2023

As Thomas Aquinas said, ‘Hominem unius libri timeo.’ I fear the man who has read a single book. He meant it about the Bible.

I mean it about Jordan B. Peterson.

If, and when, there is a section invented in bookshops called ‘Men’, Jordan B. Peterson would be far and away its bestseller: his combined back catalogue has sold over 7 million copies; his various YouTube lectures have 520 million views and 6.5 million subscribers; and, in 2019, Time magazine named him ‘the most influential intellectual in the world’.

I first became aware of him as the ‘make your bed in the morning’ man. In 2019, his 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos was well on its way to selling its eventual 7 million copies, and the first and main thing everyone was discussing was how his most sensational piece of advice was: ‘Every morning, make your bed.’

“My sense is that if you want to change the world, you start with yourself and work outward because you build your competence that way,” he expanded. “I don’t know how you can go out and protest the structure of the entire economic system if you can’t keep your room organized.”

Of course, we may note that here that Peterson has found a ‘fancy’ professor’s way to say, for £25 in hardback, what everyone’s mums have been saying to them, since they were born, for free. Who knows how much more effective it would have been if our mothers had conflated our dirty duvets with the continuation of neo-liberal capitalism – and, indeed, the entire validity of organised protest. Perhaps our mothers were, at the time, too busy simultaneously loading the dishwasher and worming the cat to ‘go there’. But, still – can’t argue with making your bed, right? No one gets hurt by a guy who wants tidier bedrooms? With his dapper waistcoat and Kermit-tinged voice, Peterson presented like a Henson Workshop Bright Uncle. He’s just ultimately a common-sense guy. Also, he’s Canadian. Canadians can’t be bad, right?

Peterson has found a ‘fancy’ professor’s way to say what everyone’s mums have been saying to them, since they were born, for free

Over the next year or so, I lost count of the people – predominantly young men – who said, “Have you read Jordan B. Peterson? He’s got a lot of interesting ideas. Really got me thinking. I wonder what you think of him?”

I started with one of his most successful podcasts – in which he and Russell Brand discussed the topic of ‘Masculinity’. It was . . . odd? I’d expected to hear some smart analysis; playful debate; historical context; pertinent anecdotes, gleeful conclusions. I was ready to be both educated and entertained by two very famous, clever public speakers getting stuck into masculinity. I actively wanted to have all my beliefs challenged with some top-notch tussling.

Instead, after three-quarters of an hour, all that had been discussed was how difficult Peterson was finding fame – a conversation during which he cried several times. There was nothing positive about masculinity. There was no celebration of what is wonderful about boys and men – no enthusing for his own team; no castles-in-the-air daydreaming for how men could be happy in themselves; take pride in themselves; sell to a currently sceptical world how underrated, essential and lovely the inherent traits of men could be.

Caitlin Moran: "Women are at peak ‘Don't give a fuck’. Men haven’t found that yet”

Twelve years ago, she wrote a bestselling book that started a new conversation about feminism in Britain. Now, Caitlin Moran wants to do the same for “straight white men”

By Sam Parker

Instead: the complaining. The crying. I found this so astonishing that, three days later, I was at a literary event with several very well-known, very successful feminist authors/ campaigners – all of whom have tussled with the difficulties of fame – and mentioned that I’d just listened to it.

“Oh my God! So weird!” one said.

“I just didn’t . . . understand. I can’t think of a single female author who would come on to debate a subject, and then just talk about themselves, and how hard their success was, and then cry,” another said. “I mean, there was just so much waffle.”

“Obviously it’s not bad to cry, or tell the truth about your life,” the third said. “But – he’s at work ? Can you imagine if any of us were invited to talk about our work – and just spent it crying?”

In the room were an anti-FGM campaigner, a notable feminist, and a woman who has written a great deal about violence against women and girls. All have had rape and death threats: two have panic buttons in their houses. One has never even mentioned that she has children – as the police told her there was the very real possibility that, if the knowledge became public, there would be threats made against the children’s schools.

Of course, as discussed before, there is no hierarchy of feelings – if you feel sad, you feel sad – and in so many ways, it’s all good work when a public male figure feels comfortable enough to discuss feeling overwhelmed, or depressed, or fearful. All truths are useful for someone, somewhere.

But I’m always slightly alarmed when someone who is very confident and vocal about telling people how to be, and what to do, is themselves apparently struggling with just such a thing. When their Rules for Life appear not to be working for them. Additionally, for Peterson to become so emotional when talking to Brand – there was a real sense of the floodgates opening – suggests that this isn’t a thing he’s been able to widely discuss in private, with family and friends. Perhaps Peterson hasn’t yet learned to ‘do’ friendship, either.

Peterson generally presents as a loner preacher-man – one voice in a wilderness of modern, woke madness. This point feels like the right moment to mention Moran’s Rule Number Three:

By and large, don’t listen to a loner preacher-man.

Who wants to be a loner preacher-man? Why have you had to become a loner preacher-man? And how does that work out, day to day? It doesn’t sound like much fun for you, or the people around you. After all, no one ever said, ‘I feel a bit blue, and down, today. I know – I’ll go and get a hug from the loner preacher-man.’

When your feelings about a subject are so strong you start both denying, and campaigning against, facts – then you’re not really an academic

I bring up just how happy Peterson’s own life is because, well – I wouldn’t buy shoes from a cobbler wearing two plastic bags on his feet. Similarly, I wouldn’t accept rules – not even ‘advice’, or ‘thoughts’, but rules – for life from someone who appears quite sad, and lonely. Because, ultimately, what are you buying when you buy his thoughts and theories? Something that seems not to be working terribly well for him right now. To the point where Peterson appears quite fearful about simply being alive: famously, in 2018, Peterson revealed that he lives by a very strict diet, which consists solely of ‘beef, salt and water’.

I am not being flippant or dismissive when I say this sounds like a very serious eating disorder – and eating disorders tend to stem from very unhappy, anxious people who feel they need to exert more ‘control’ over their lives. The subtitle of 12 Rules for Life is An Antidote to Chaos. I would suggest someone who fears ‘chaos’ so much they’ve removed 90 per cent of all possible nutrition from their diet, losing 60lbs in the process, might not be terribly well.

On top of this, in recent years, Peterson has been incredibly vocal on social media, peddling anti-vax propaganda and climate-change denialism. When you fly in the face of overwhelming scientific evidence and agreement – when your feelings and emotions about a subject are so strong you start both denying, and campaigning against, facts – then you’re not really an academic. You’re not rigorously and intellectually examining possibilities. You’re doing something more… medieval, and primal.

Anyway. Finally, I read 12 Rules for Life. And there is some good stuff in it. Peterson’s step-by-step advice for how to properly ‘argue’ with loved ones, and come to an agreement that is satisfying to both, is undoubtedly good advice: as it was when psychotherapist Carl Rogers originally came up with the method in 1951. Similarly, Peterson is good on how the basis of society is sharing and delayed gratification; how a person is defined by the ideas they have; and how it’s a good idea to both ‘make your bed every morning’, and ‘stop and pet a cat in the street’. The first of those observations is from Freud, the second by Jung and then Popper, and the last two can be found on either Instagram or TikTok any time you want to look – and often presented as an amusing lip-sync, rather than a densely typed Bible-quoting rant. What I’m saying is, whenever Peterson hits on a truth, it’s usually someone else’s.

However, the ultimate reason why I fear for any man in a crisis turning to Peterson is that he comes across as a severely depressed man, crushed by a belief in fundamentalist Christian teaching, busily building bridges so that other people might join him in his depression – and thus make himself less alone. If you want to have a night where you blitz your liver to oblivion, play the Jordan B. Peterson 12 Rules for Life ‘Suffering Game’: taking a shot every time Peterson intones, like Puddleglum in C. S. Lewis’s The Silver Chair, that life is about suffering and/or misery, and that human beings are evil."

#men are not all right

0 notes

orivaa-kun · 10 months

Text

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 4: Happy Birthday, Nanami! (Flashback)

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3

chapter word count: 6k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

~ July 3rd, Three Years Ago ~ 21:37

Riku stood at the doorstep of Yu Haibara’s mansion, waiting at the door with a heavy bottle of whisky tucked behind her back; she held the thick of the bottle’s neck in her fist. The long, black curls of her hair had been blown out and flat ironed so that it was silk, bone straight; and she wore dark gray booty shorts, black thigh-high boots, and a black leather bodysuit that had deep cutouts on each side.

The private residence that belonged to Nanami’s best friend buzzed with loud music, even with the doors and windows closed. Riku patiently hummed to herself, gently rocking from side to side as she waited for someone to answer the door. She smiled giddily to herself, genuinely excited to spend time with Nanami for his 26th birthday party. Riku couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a house party with all her yakuza friends, but she was glad Yu had convinced him to actually do something fun for once – usually Nanami hated celebrating in loud ways like this, even if it was a small get-together.

The door then opened, with hip hop music booming from the house much louder than before. Yu grinned on the other side of the doorway when he saw Riku; wearing an oversized, streetwear-branded white t-shirt, black tech wear cargo pants, and red Jordan 1s.

“Ri-Ri! Hey, babe! Good to see you!” He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her, platonically pecking her cheek when he hugged her, “You look good!”

She giggled, “Thanks, Yu. Good to see you, too!”

He spotted the bottle behind her back before standing back upright, “That for Nanami?” He quirked a brow, dark brown hair of his bowl cut artfully framing his face.

“Mhm.” Riku nods with a grin, “It’s a limited release bottle of Hibiki Whisky. Only 9 other bottles like it in the whole world.”

“Ooo, he’s going to fucking love that.”

“I know.” Riku said confidently, mouth smirking and shoulders dancing a bit as she spoke.

“Well, follow me!”

Yu led Riku through various living room-like spaces and down a set of stairs that opened up into a vast, private home bar that had been decorated with Black, gold, and silver balloons – some even littering the floor. There was a huge banner of similar colors on the other end of the room that read, ‘HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY NANAMI!!!’ The space contained an extensive, wooden bar complete with stools and a vast collection of rare and expensive bottles, an area with a TV and a few couches, a makeshift dancefloor that Yu had probably constructed by himself, a long stretch of glass window that faced a huge backyard, and a grand, modern-style table covered in hors d'oeuvres with a tall yet simple strawberry shortcake in the center. The party setup and décor were so Nanami – simple, relaxed, and uncomplicated.

There were at least 14 other people in the basement space, a few folks dancing to the popular song that blasted from Yu’s home speaker system and most chatting it up by the bar.

“Riku’s here!” Yu announced, and a few heads turned in their direction.

“Ri!” Nobara shouted, beaming from the area at the end of the long stretch of bar space. The short, gold dress that she wore rose on her hips a bit when she waved.

“Hey, Riku.” Maki chimed in from Nobara’s side, straight-faced as usual but eyes smiling. She wore a faded purple band t-shirt that was tucked into tight-fitting black jeans, and accompanied by a blue jean jacket.

Riku’s eyes spotted Nanami, who clearly hadn’t heard Yu announce her arrival over the loud music as he currently chatted with a few of his guy friends from behind the bar.

Yu turned back to look at Riku, “Make yourself at home, Ri. And let me know if you need anything. ‘Kay?”

Riku smiled softly as she nodded a few times, and Yu strode over to a group of people at the edge of the dancefloor.

Riku held her index finger up to her friends from across the room as if to say, ‘give me a minute,’ and made a beeline for Nanami behind the bar. Damn, he looks good, she thought to herself, always having appreciated his classy sense of style. Nanami had on khaki, tailored slacks that perfectly complimented his visibly toned legs and small, tight butt. He wore a black button up as a top, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick, veined forearms and the first few buttons undone to reveal a black tank top underneath it and a small, gold chain around his neck. The muscles of his pecs just barely peeked from the top of his tank, and Riku studied it much more closely now than she had in the past two years she’d known Nanami as her bodyguard. She never thought she’d feel anything other than a friendship kind-of-love for the man, but in the past few months she’d grown to find him attractive – an attraction not only for his body but more so for the way he treated her.

I’m going to tell him how I feel. Riku thought, reassuring herself as just a few days ago she’d decided to confess her feelings to Nanami on his birthday if she was able to get him alone for a minute.

Nanami loved her. And though the few times he’d confessed to her over the last two years were one thing, it was additionally obvious to Riku and all their friends through the way he looked at and acted around her. For the first time ever, Riku finally thought she felt the same and wanted to give things a try. Though the bottle of whisky tucked behind her back was her physical gift to him, Riku knew that Nanami would probably appreciate her confession a lot more.

Riku reached Nanami’s back and tapped his shoulder with her free hand, appreciating the sight of him in something that wasn’t a full-on suit for once. He turns, and his eyes temporarily widen with awe at the sight of Riku.

“Happy birthday, Ken!” She sang the words, bringing the bottle of whisky around to her front so that it was no longer hidden.

“Ri…” He reached down a bit and instinctively retrieved the bottle from Riku’s hand before wrapping his thick arms around her in a tight hug.

Riku kissed his cheek, allowing her lips to remain there a hair longer than normal as she inhaled the subtle, dark forest notes of his cologne. He always did smell incredible.

“This for me?” Nanami asked after they broke their embrace, eyeing the bottle.

“Yep, it’s a 30-year-old single malt scotch. A Hibiki Whisky small batch limited release… with only 9 other bottles of it in the world.”

“Shit,” His eyes widened in a bit of shock, “I’ve heard of this… this is a 20-thousand-dollar bottle!” He looked at Riku again, “You still got the box?”

“Of course.” Riku smirked.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Nanami gazes down at Riku with a look so full of pure admiration that it honestly makes her heart flutter, “But a 20K bottle of whisky?? You shouldn’t have. I should save this for my 30th or something…” He suddenly dropped into a squat, looking around the back of Yu’s bar before placing the bottle on a hidden shelf.

Riku shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard to get. And hey, special bottle for a special guy. I probably owe it to you anyways, for getting me out of trouble all the time…” She giggled.

Nanami rose to his feet, offering her a small smile - a truly rare occurrence, “Yeah, you got that right.”

Riku suddenly grinned, grabbing both of Nanami’s hands with her own and swiftly interlocking their fingers as she did so. She slightly swung from side to side in time with the music and brought their arms up in a dance position, “You gonna dance with me tonight?” She playfully batted her eyelashes up at the blonde.

He sighed but matched her swaying movements, the corners of his mouth curving even further up into a smile, “Oh, I can’t keep up with you, Ri.”

“Sure you can!” Riku released one of Nanami’s hands then spun into his arm so that it’s wrapped around her, and her back was flush with his front, “And if you can’t, I don’t mind dancing enough for the two of us…” She looked back at him and rocked her hips teasingly, and the two friends Nanami had previously been chatting with whooped and hollered.

Nanami chuckled then turned Riku back away from him, to which she twirled in a practiced way and stretched her arm out in a final pose. The small sequence earned a few claps from Nanami’s friends.

“Have you eaten?” Nanami questioned, releasing Riku’s hand from his gentle hold.

“…Does iced coffee count?” Riku replied with her own question, not-so-innocently.

Nanami rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his sides, “Jesus Christ, Ri. Please eat something.” He checked his silver watch, “It’s already almost 10 pm!” He paused before continuing, “There’s plenty to eat. Yu even got chicken wings from Nagoya.”

Riku’s eyes widened, “Nagoya-style wings?!” Riku felt her mouth begin to water; she couldn’t think of the last time she’d had good wings.

“Yeah, I know you like them so much, so I had Yu add ‘em to the food list.” He admitted.

“Ken…!” Riku looked like she was going to cry, suddenly squeezing Nanami tight in a hug. She stayed locked on him, propping her chin up on his shoulder to look at him as she spoke her next words, “Thank you!”

“Mhm, welcome.” And there were those loving eyes of his, again, gazing directly down at her.

Riku felt her heart skip a beat and blushed, hesitantly breaking from Nanami before shyly easing away from the man, “Remind me to tell you something later.”

Nanami shamelessly looked Riku up and down, a curious look on his face, “Okay... Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Riku offered him a relaxed, honest smile and held her hands behind her back.

“Good, then I’ll talk to you later.”

Riku turned around to walk towards her friends on the other side, and Nanami leaned against the back of the bar to watch her walk away.

One of Nanami’s friends who had been watching the interaction patted him on the back apologetically, “Fuck, you’ve got it bad, man.” He laughed.

Nanami shook his head a few times, just barely smiling to himself, “Shut up.” He picked up the glass he’d been sipping from earlier, topping it off before raising it to his lips for a swig. He continued to watch Riku stride over to her friends, eyes locked on the exposed skin between her shorts and her thigh-high boots, “I mean, she’s fucking perfect…”

His other friend nearby clasped his hands onto the trap muscles of Nanami’s shoulders before aggressively massaging them in encouragement, “Never give up, bro. And it’s your birthday today! Anything’s possible!”

Nanami playfully shoved his friend away, “Yeah, whatever.”

When Riku returned to her friends, she brought a small plate of wings with her, already through two of the six she’d piled on the tiny dish and eaten on her way over to them.

“Hey, Ri. Wait—” Nobara looked shocked when she saw Riku snacking on the wings, “There’s Nagoya wings?? What the fuck! Why didn’t anyone tell me?!!”

Mouth still full, Riku poked her plate in Nobara’s direction, to which she gladly takes one.

“Thank you…!” Nobara cheered happily before taking a bite from her flat.

Maki reached over, not waiting for Riku to offer her a wing before taking one, “Nagoya wings?! Yeah, I’m gonna need one of those in my mouth right fucking now.” She took a large bite out of the drumstick she’d snagged.

Nobara tried to swallow quickly, looking like she wanted to speak up all of a sudden.

“Don’t you fucking say it—” Maki started to warn, but Nobara interrupted anyways.

“That’s what she said!” Nobara shouted, before poking her wing in Maki’s direction and laughing.

Riku giggled, not at the bad joke but more so to her friends’ interaction.

“I hate you… so, so much. You know that?” Maki glared at Nobara, then finished her drumstick, placing the bone on the small pile of them on the corner of Riku’s plate.

“Love you too!” Nobara blew a kiss to Maki then turned to Riku, looking her friend up and down, “Shit… you look hot!”

“Thanks, bae!” Riku smiled cutely, giving her friends a small twirl so they could see every angle of her outfit.

“Yeah, those shorts make your ass look fat as hell!” Nobara used her free hand to lightly tap the thick round of Riku’s butt, and Riku poked it out a bit more flirtingly when Nobara slaps it a second time.

“Thank you…!” Riku half said, half sung, shaking her butt to the music for a few counts before ceasing and standing up once more. She looked to Nobara’s dress, “Cute dress, Nobara!” then glanced to Maki, “And I’m definitely stealing your jean jacket.”

Maki pulled the fabric closer to her body, defensively, “So you can lose it? No way!”

The three of them laughed.

“Oh, you missed the wonder boys, by the way.” Nobara noted.

“Wonder boys?” Riku looked confused.

“You know which ones. The infamous, one and only dynamic duo?” Maki added, jogging Riku’s memory.

Riku blinked in realization, “Oh! Gojo and Geto?”

“Mhm,” Nobara finished her flat and put the bones on Riku’s plate before dusting off her fingers, “Gojo was so hot, too. He had on this all-white getup that looked so good.”

“They left already?” Riku retrieved her phone that stuck out her front pocket to check the time, 21:50, “But it’s barely even 10?”

“Yeah, think they had an emergency to handle, so they bounced early.” Maki explained to the best of her knowledge.

“Huh, strange… Seems like I always miss them.” Riku thought to herself of all the times over the past years she’d known Nanami that she’d ‘just missed’ Gojo and Geto. It was more than handful of times.

“That is strange…” Nobara narrows her eyes at Riku, curiously, “Especially with Nanami being your bodyguard and the three of them being friends for decades… You’ve really never met Gojo and Geto?” She quired a brow.

“Not once.” Riku said simply, “I mean, sure, I’ve seen ‘em across a yakuza banquet hall once or twice at family meetings; but that’s it, really.”

“Weird.” Maki concluded, similarly narrowing her eyes at Riku.

“Oh! And Geto had on leather pants! You missed leather pants Suguru Geto, Riku!” Nobara cried dramatically.

“Oh no! Not leather pants Suguru Geto! What am I to do?” Riku feigned excitement, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously! You wouldn’t get it since you’ve never seen Suguru’s ass in tight pants. It’s a spiritual experience, Riku.” Nobara said, hands on either side of her face and smiling at the thought.

“Relax!” Riku laughed.

Just then, Yu appeared from behind Riku with his hand out to take Riku’s now empty plate of wing bones. He leaned over her shoulder with a smile, “I’ll take that. You want anything else, or something to drink, Ri?”

She passed the plate to him, “Yes! Something strong… Like, 100-proof! Thanks, Mr. Host!”

“Ooo… so you wanna get fucked up, huh?” He grins.

“Just a little.” Riku pinched her newly freed fingers together as a unit of measurement, smirking.

“Coming right up, babe.” He winked at her before walking towards the back of the bar.

“Now, who the fuck is gonna dance with me?!” Nobara exclaimed, arms out.

“You know I’m always down to dance – DTD, if you will.” Riku smirked, taking one of Nobara’s hands and shaking it in the air.

“You kids have fun.” Maki nearly crossed her arms over her chest, but Riku snagged her arm with her free hand, pulling both her and Nobara along to the dancefloor.

“What do you mean, Maki? You’re coming, too!”

~ 22:58 ~

A group of seven including Nanami, Yu, Maki, Nobara, Riku, Momo – who had come all the way from the Kyoto yakuza syndicate – and one of Nanami’s friends that Riku didn’t know had separated from the larger group around the bar in the center, back area of the room, and currently sat on a few couches in the TV area with a roundtable in the center.

Momo and Nobara fiddled with a board game box on the center of the table that read, ‘21+ TRUTH DARE, OR DRINK: THE CARD GAME,’ while Yu topped a few glasses off for those who’d requested him to.

Riku giggled when Yu refilled her glass, face blushing a light pink to the buzz she currently had as she was now 6 glasses of whisky in, “That makes seven!”

“And that’s your last one for a while.” Nanami pointed his finger at Ri from across the table.

“Oh, don’t poop your own party, blondie. Lighten up!” Riku locked eyes with Nanami when she took her next sip, to which the man simply shakes his head.

“Why the hell are we even playing this?” Maki stared at the box in front of them, “It’s a little childish, no?”

“It’s fun! And it clearly says ‘21+’ Maki!” Nobara finally removed the top from the cardboard box with Momo’s help, pointer finger trailing over the big letters of the game’s age rating for Maki to see and read.

“That doesn’t… never mind.” Maki stopped herself.

“You wanna play this, Ken?” Yu asked Nanami, before plopping down on the couch next to him.

Nobara and Momo held hands, looking at Nanami pleadingly.

“…Sure. As long as I can sit here and relax.”

“Yaaaaay!” Nobara and Momo cheered, then organized the two decks of cards. The black cards had ‘TRUTH’ printed on the back, while the red cards had ‘DARE.’

“I think this one’s pretty simple,” Nobara said, reading through the small paper card that had the game rules on it, “make a circle, pick a card from each pile, read them aloud and choose to do either the dare prompt or to tell the truth prompt. If you choose to do neither, you must take two shots as a penalty.”

Nanami glanced to Riku upon hearing the rules, “Only truths and dares for you, got it?”

“No! You’re boring!”

Nanami gave her a more serious glare.

“Ugh, fine. But only because it’s your birthday.” Riku relented.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ken.” Riku said before taking another sip from her glass—needing to have the last word, as always.

“So, should the birthday boy go first, then?” After shuffling them, Momo organized the red and black decks at the center of the round table so everyone could reach.

“Why the fuck not?” Nanami set his glass down on the table before picking up one card from each pile. He read them aloud, “Tell the group if you’ve ever filmed a sex tape and if you still have it, or… moan in the ear of the person to the right of you for 10 seconds.” The blonde looked to his side to find Yu sitting there, who laughs, “Yeah, no. Truth it is.” Nanami concluded, and Riku booed. Nanami cleared his throat, “Uh, yes I’ve filmed a sex tape; and no, I don’t still have it.”

There’s a few ‘oos’ and ‘ahs’ around the circle.

“Aw, why don’t you still have it?” Nobara whined, asking outright. Riku giggled.

“Keeping that kind of stuff after you break up with someone would be kinda weird, no?” Nanami said, and it’s seemingly enough to quell Nobara’s curiosity. Riku wondered what Nanami’s past relationships were like. He never talked about those things with her.

Nobara nodded, “Fair, fair. Okay, you’re up next, Yu!”

Yu grabbed one of each card, reading them to the group, “Tell the group if you’ve ever cheated—or, take off the person’s shirt to the right of you with your teeth.” Yu glanced over at Maki to his right.

“Yu, if you so much as breathe on my fucking shirt…” Maki trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay! Okay. Then truth it is. Hm…” He pretended to think to himself, stroking his chin comically, “Cheat? Tokyo Yakuza men don’t cheat!” He answered, a shit-eating grin on his face that was anything but honest and truthful.

“They sure don’t!” Nanami’s friend grinned from the opposite side, temporarily standing to high-five Yu.

“Oh my god, seriously??” Momo complained, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, you guys fucking suck.” Nobara groaned, visibly agitated from hearing that annoying, too-often said phrase.

“Two shots for both of you!” Maki raised a finger commandingly.

“Alright, sorry girls! And say less, Maki.” Yu quickly finished the liquid remaining in his glass before pouring both him and Nanami’s friend double-shots – to which they then clinked glasses and downed their shots without a second thought. It was almost scary how easily they were able to drink them without so much as making a strained or uncomfortable face.

“Maki’s next!” Nobara cheered from across the table, clapping her hands a few times.

Maki reached forward, grabbing a card from each pile before flipping them over on the table, “Tell everyone about the first time you came, or kiss the person across from you for 10 seconds… with tongue.” Maki looked up from the cards, glancing up to find Momo on the other side—who blushed and glanced away after hearing the words, “You wanna?” Maki asked her, not even flinching.

“Hey, is that even a fair dare since you like girls?” Nobara asked Maki, who doesn’t pay attention to her. She kept her eyes on Momo.

“Okay, sure!” Momo decided nervously, looking back at Maki with a shy, slightly embarrassed look.

Both girls leaned over the table, and Yu turned his wrist to look at his watch for a second, “I can time you two…” He grins.

Maki, completely unphased, rose her arms to hold Momo’s small face in her hands; she brought her lips to Momo’s, immediately breaking into a deep, passion-filled kiss while a few others around the table cheered. Even Riku was a little caught off guard by how expertly Maki moved her lips on Momo’s, blinking and smirking a bit to the sight of her friend controlling the pace of it and exploring Momo’s mouth at a steady rhythm. Maki barely talked about her own dates and relationships, too, so Riku didn’t think Maki was the type to have so much experience.

“Time!” Yu shouted from over his watch, “Sorry, couldn’t help but stare so it was more like 15 seconds.” He chuckled.

Maki and Momo broke their kiss as soon as Yu spoke, both glaring at him in response before sitting back on their respective couches.

“Wow, that was… spicy.” With alcohol in her system, Riku confidently said the words everyone else was thinking silently in their heads.

“Very.” Nanami’s friend added on, nodding his head in agreement.

“Ri-Ri’s next!” Nobara shouted.

Riku slid a single card from the top of each of the two piles and reads them off, “Share two names from the group that you’d have a threesome with, or… do an erotic dance for the person right across from you for a minute.” Riku looked up and locked eyes with the person right across from her at the table. Nanami. She grins devilishly, “Well, you know which one I have to do, don’t you?”

Nanami facepalmed his hand over his face, dragging it down but unable to conceal the hint of a smirk on his lips, “Seriously, Ri?”

“Seriously, Ken. Come on, let’s take it to the dancefloor.” Riku rose from the couch, “Yu—can you change the music to something more… fitting?”

He pulled out his phone with a matching grin, scrolling through it for a second, “Sure can.”

“Yay, Riku’s dancing!” Nobara applauded in excitement.

Nanami’s other friend pulled Nanami to his feet, and the group made their way back to the area where the bar and dancefloor were. Yu put a heavy chair in the center of the dancefloor and suddenly changed the music from chill hip hop to a sexy, slow R&B tune. The friend pushed Nanami to sit down on it and Nanami raked a hand through his blonde hair as he looked at Riku standing in front of him.

A bit of a circle is made as a few folks who hadn’t been playing the game moved towards the dancefloor to see what was going on. Nobara and Momo cheered from the side of the floor and others joined in with a few hoots of their own.

With liquid confidence on her side and her experience as a dancer, Riku stepped forward to brush her index over Nanami’s chin. She winked, “You’re going to enjoy this.” Nanami’s eyes widened in response, and Riku backed up before she started to dance.

Riku recognized the song and used that to her advantage, starting with a slow strut. She smoothed her hands over her curves as she walked, pausing on time with the clicks of the song’s beat before turning, and taking every opportunity to look back at Nanami seated on the chair in front of her as she moved. Riku turned again, then slowly rubbed her hands down her legs before falling into a full split—to which a number of folks cheered. She threw her ass up, then back down in the position, and turned over to work the floor, tastefully rolling her back into an arch and kicking her legs up in the air as she did so.

Nanami shook his head, but smiled, unable to tear his gaze from Riku’s body as she skillfully pushed up off the floor, rising to her feet once more. She sharply bended at the waist, whipping her long, jet black hair over, along with her straightened back. She locked eyes with Nanami when she looked back this time, smoothing her hand over her ass. Riku then slowly dropped into a squat, popping her butt to one side before rolling her ass back up to a standing position. She gyrated her hips from side to side when the chorus of the song started to finish, then moved them forward to back, ending her little dance with another split.

Riku heard her friends and others shout and whoop loudly when she stood up again but she didn’t pay attention to them. She instead kept her eyes locked on Nanami’s widened ones; it was obvious that he was clearly trying to keep his composure, his fingers pressed to his lips. She enticingly strutted over to the man once more, only stopping when she was right in front of him to bend at the waist and peck his cheek with a kiss, “Happy Birthday, Ken.” She purred into his ear, before leaving him alone on his chair.

~ 00:17 ~

Riku wiped her hands on the hand towel in the guest bathroom after washing her hands… All the wings and alcohol and cake had definitely caught up with her stomach, but, though very tipsy, she surprisingly still felt pretty good and in control of herself—both physically and mentally. That said, instead of exiting the bathroom and heading back toward the party room in the basement, she made a different turn and walked toward the mansion’s main kitchen, sure that Yu had some ginger ale or ginger beer that she could drink to settle her stomach a little more.

She blinked a few times and froze when she found Nanami there, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island with a pint of pistachio ice cream and a spoon in his hands, “Kento? What are you doing here?”

“Ice cream break.” He shortly explained, raising his spoon in the air as he spoke.

Riku hummed interestingly, making a beeline for the fridge and opening the silver double doors to scan its contents. She could understand Nanami wanting to take a break from everyone at the party; he was pretty introverted, after all.

“You?”

Riku was silent while she looked through the fridge, and only responded to Nanami when she found what she was looking for, “Aha!” She grabbed a can of ginger ale from the random mess of canned drinks in the door, showing it to Nanami, “Upset stomach remedy!” She beamed giddily.

“I told you to take it easy on the alcohol.” Nanami noted, prodding his spoon in her direction as he spoke before taking another spoonful.

“I’m fine!” Riku cracked the can, taking a long series of sips from it until it’s nearly done. She burped, “Whew, ‘scuse me.” She giggled to herself.

“You’re drunk.”

“No I’m not!” Riku yelled a bit loudly in the otherwise quiet kitchen, besides the loud music that blared from the floor below. She walked over to Nanami at the kitchen island then paused, “If I was drunk, could I do this?” She planted her feet in the floor, grounding herself in a slight squat and curving her arms in front of her, ballet-style. Riku then abruptly spun herself in a series of four pirouettes, before gently stopping and resting her previously raised foot back on the ground.

“Knowing you, probably.”

Riku grumbled, settling to sit down on the stool next to Nanami’s. She suddenly smirked slyly, scooting closer to him a bit with her next words, “Did you like your birthday dance?” She asked in a breathy, seductive voice.

Nanami huffed out a single chuckle, looking into the empty space before him before returning his gaze to Riku, “You seriously asking me this right now?”

“Yes…” She faced and playfully poked Nanami’s shoulder a few times then continued, “…cause if you didn’t, I can give you a better one…” She cooed, obviously flirting.

“It was good, Ri. Really good.” Nanami said with a calm yet unplaced expression on his face, continuing to hold eye contact with Riku, “I guess I should say thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Riku said confidently, face gleaming with her bright smile. She eyed Nanami as he took another bite of the pistachio ice cream and she suddenly leaned over, only mere centimeters away from him when she spoke up again, “Ice cream me.”

Nanami gave the other an honest chuckle before answering, “No.”

“Please…?” She batted her eyes at Nanami, pouting her lips a bit to plead with the man.

He sighed, beginning to scoop another spoonful of the pastel, green-colored ice cream, “Fine, Ri.” He held the spoon out in front of her mouth, and Riku took her time wrapping her lips around the ice cream and metal utensil, tilting her head back to pull her mouth off of it and revealing the now clean piece of silverware. Nanami’s eyes followed each movement, gaze darkening with heat at the innocent yet simultaneously lewd nature of Riku’s actions.

Riku stilled all of a sudden, eyes shamelessly gazing over Nanami’s handsome face and toned body. She couldn’t help but admire his outfit again, especially appreciating how the top buttons were undone to reveal a little more of his chest. Her eyes floated down to Nanami’s hands, and she thought about how they had both innocently and protectively touched her countless times over the past few years—patting her head to tease or praise her, wrapping around her waist to pull her out of the less-than-favorable predicaments she’d always found herself in, wiping her tears away after her bad break-ups—she wanted to know what his touch would feel like when trying to please her. She blushed at her own thoughts, and Nanami noticed.

“What, Ri?” He spoke the words more like a statement than a question.

“You look nice.” Riku smiled softly, snaking her hand down Nanami’s shoulder to rest on the stretch of his bicep as she sat face to face with him.

“Thank you.” Nanami said softly, simply because they were so close to one another.

“You should wear more clothes like that.”

“You think so?”

“I think I like you.”

“What?”

Before Nanami can say anything else, Riku pressed her lips to his, arms moving to rest on each of the blonde’s strong shoulders.

He dropped the spoon and pint, and they clattered onto the kitchen floor. Nanami sharply inhaled through his nose, shifting to hold Riku’s reddened cheeks in his hands before swiftly deepening their kiss. Riku appreciated how natural it felt—Nanami’s lips moving on hers—how easy it was for them to mutually set a rhythm. Nanami bit Riku’s lower lip between kisses, tugging it down with his teeth to make her open up her mouth a little bit more, to let his tongue in a little bit more… to let him deepen their connection a little bit more, “Shit.”

Riku pulled back to stop for a moment, looking between Nanami’s eyes as she felt a light flutter in her chest and a warmth below her navel. She finally reunited their mouths, this time maneuvering herself onto Nanami’s lap and fully pressing her body against his.

“Ri,” Nanami managed between their strong, passionate kisses that were quickly turning more and more lewd and open-mouthed, “Stop…”

“No.” She refused, hands getting lost and tangled in his hair as she makes out with the man intensely.

“You’re drunk,” He said, reluctantly squeezing Riku’s ass with his hands, beside himself. He couldn’t help it; he’d wanted to have Riku like this since the day he’d met her two years ago.

“’M not…” She hummed out, darting her tongue over Nanami’s lower lip before continuing to kiss him deeply. Nanami’s hands smoothed up her sides and she moaned, shifting her hips forward to grind into his.

He broke their kiss to moan lowly at the command of Riku’s hips, “Fuck, don’t do this to me, Ri…” He cursed again when his dick twitched beneath the confines of his khaki slacks.

Riku pressed her forehead to Nanami’s, beginning to roll her hips into his at in a slow rhythm. She rode his clothed erection, body even warmer from all the whisky she’d drank. Riku felt hot between her legs, and wanted Nanami to take care of it—just like he always took care of everything else. She didn’t let up on her grinding and started to breathe heavier as she felt his dick grow beneath his pants, “Tell me you love me.” She softly moaned, just above a whisper.

Nanami lowered his hands to Riku’s ass and hips once more, “I love you.” The words were easy to say, the man had confessed them more than a few times to her over the past two years, “I fucking love you, Ri… Which is why I need you to stop. You’re drunk.” Even as he spoke the words, his voice was heavy with arousal.

“But I need you—”

Nanami grabbed Riku’s hips, harshly bringing them to a halt, “I said, fucking stop!”

Riku jerks back in shock at the sound of Nanami’s voice; the man hardly ever rose his voice, and she’d never heard him yell like this. Not at her, at least. Nanami looked serious… seriously angry, and the way his dark, pained eyes stared daggers into her soul made her chest sink in a way she’d never experienced before.

“I’m sick of you playing with me, Riku. Now get the fuck off me and get the fuck out of here.”

The heaviness in Riku’s chest grew greater and greater and stung as she realized she’d been hurting Nanami all this time with the way she’d acted towards him. She felt tears try to push their way out of her eyes, but she was somehow able to hold them back. Was this what the mix of guilt and rejection felt like? Riku stumbled off of Nanami’s lap and onto her feet. She wanted to apologize—for everything, “I’m so—”

“Just go.” He didn’t even look in her eyes as he waved her off.

Riku rushes from the kitchen, just barely able to get out of its opening before tears began to roll from her eyes. She didn’t go to the bathroom, or back downstairs, but instead headed straight for the front door. A sob chokes its way from her throat when she’s outside, and she clasped a hand over her mouth at the sound. She falls down to the grass on her hands and knees, unable to prevent the steady streams of tears that fell from her eyes.

Riku was so sorry. She’d never thought that her years of playful flirting had affected Nanami, but it was such a simple connection to make. How did I miss that? Why didn’t I consider his feelings more?

Riku felt like a monster. Sure, she’d started to like Nanami, but he was her friend, first and foremost. She couldn’t forgive herself for hurting her friend like this. She never wanted to do it ever again. She never wanted to feel this heavy, painful burning in her chest—it was a feeling that ran through her body and made her feel disgusting, like she needed to throw up.

Riku knew Nanami. She knew him and she knew that he would more than likely ask her in the morning if she’d remembered anything from last night.

And Riku decided that she would say no.

chapter endnotes: originally posted this to AO3 a few weeks ago on Nanami's birthday, 7/3! This was such a fun chapter to write.

8 notes · View notes