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#shock jenga
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UUUUUUUHHH
So big blue jumped into the filter and while trying to find him in it I discovered a pale little fishy body??? Twin had gone missing two weeks ago and since he’d come from that last sickly batch I’d simply assumed he’d died and been scavenged by the shrimp in one of the heavily planted corners. I thought he looked remarkably intact, considering the timeline, and so got the filter down to reclaim the body; and wouldn’t you know, he started wriggling. Cut to a very stressful 15 minutes later and I’d managed to slosh him onto a spoon and dump him back into the tank.
He’s in very rough shape after two weeks at the bottom of the filter, as one might imagine, so I think there’s a very good chance he’ll die now. But he is swimming and I did feed him twice and he ate. I’ve turned out the lights and I suppose now it’s just wishing for the best.
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givemegifs · 1 year
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strawberrysturniolo · 2 months
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make the versus tour chris thing you posted into a fic i begg
king for a day // chris sturniolo
summary: your boyfriend is feeling extra cocky during sex when he wins a stop on the versus tour. rough oral (male!receiving). praise kink
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I watch as Chris’ smile grows as he watches Matt’s final play in Jenga, resulting in the tower to topple over and give Chris his victory.
He runs over to his teammate, who is decked out in orange apparel and gives them a hug as the crowd cheers for them.
I clap my hands, joining in on the cheers as I watch from the side stage. Nick exits the stage momentarily to retrieve the winning garments to place on Chris.
Chris stands victoriously next to his teammate as the crown is placed on his head. He adjusts it a bit so it balances on top of his hat, then takes his microphone to thank his teammate, along with the audience who took the time to attend tonight’s show.
This is the first show of the tour that I was able to make it to. I honestly considered supporting from home. I thought it would a better option so I wasn’t distracting or in anyone’s way before or during the shows, but Chris insisted that I should come to this one. He was currently on a winning streak, and he was convinced that I was his good luck charm that could grant him his third win in a row.
I have a feeling he’s going to demand my attendance every night to continue the streak, but I won’t be able to promise that.
As he exits the stage with his brothers and their teammates, he tosses his arm over my shoulder confidently, placing a kiss on my head. The crowd erupts in applauds and screams, our way of knowing that they saw us and we weren’t as hidden as we thought.
Chris leads me backstage to the green room, inviting me to stay while they wait for fans to come backstage with their passes.
“Good job, baby,” I whisper, keeping a hushed tone in my voice so fans don’t hear me call him by a pet name he swore he hated.
His cheeks blush. PDA isn’t something Chris is afraid of, but it’s different when he’s working and his supporters are right around us. There’s a certain line drawn there, hence why I’m keeping my voice down.
“Thanks for coming,” he replies before placing a kiss on my forehead and greeting the incoming fans.
I sit back on a couch and watch my boyfriend and his brothers interact with some of their die-hard fans. It’s sweet to see the reactions of those who came to see them, but even sweeter to see how the guys I know personally react to that attention. Their faces are coated in pure happiness, and I can’t help but smile just watching them.
There are a few fans that even take their time to say hi to me, which I was not expecting. Chris and I have more of a private but not secret relationship. We rarely post each other, but if we do it’s just subtle reminds that we’re together. There are never any overly publicly loving posts, even if we both know the other is in love. The fact that these attendees are gracious enough to thank me for making Chris happy makes me want to sob. I never imagined my boyfriend would have this sort of effect on people, but it’s no shock that it came true considering his personality.
I watch as the group heads out of the dressing room, shouts of praise and gratitude leaving the fans mouths as they say their last goodbyes. The fans go one way, and the triplets to the other to prepare for the last round of meet and greets before we leave for the night.
I stay back in the green room, scrolling aimlessly on my phone to pass the time. I spend most of it liking fans posts of them in their meet and greet photos and their videos from the show.
About 20 minutes into my time, I get a text from my boyfriend.
Chris💋🦌
You okay by yourself?
I send a quick response before going back to my scrolling.
Me
i’m great. keep doing your thing!!!
Chris💋🦌
You look really fucking hot tonight. Brave of you to wear that when I’m standing on stage in front of hundreds of people.
Oh, he’s gonna do this now?
Me
you look hotter, my crowned winner ;)
Chris💋🦌
Think we have enough room to fuck on my bunk?
Me
even if we did i am not fucking you with six other people around us.
Chris💋🦌
Fine. We’ll make something work.
The boys wrap up the last of the show and head back to the green room to retrieve their things and pack up gifts they received during the night. Chris tosses his bag over his shoulder and grips my hand, leading me outside into the mob of fans that have crowded around the doors. He waves a lazy hand out to the crowd of people before guiding me onto the bus.
“What a fucking show,” Chris says as he tosses his bag into his bunk and kicks his feet up. He taps the space next to him, inviting me to join him. I sit at his side and he quickly tosses an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer.
“Yeah yeah, we get it, three show streak,” Matt rolls his eyes.
Chris shrugs. “Maybe if you had a girl at the show to hype you up you wouldn’t have been the reason I won three times in a row.”
I lightly smack Chris’ chest for his comeback, giving him a stare.
“It’s true!” he defends.
“Whatever,” Nick butts in. “There’s a change of plans. We have a hotel tonight because there’s gonna be bad weather. I assume you two will want to stay together… so I guess it’s me and Matt fending for ourselves in the other room.”
“Oh, lucky me,” Matt groans.
Chris sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, smirking at me as he hints at what we’re going to be getting into tonight.
The ride to the hotel feels like hours passing by slowly. The ache in between my legs is dying to be relieved as Chris traces shapes on my inner thigh, keeping me built with desire throughout the drive so I don’t lose momentum when we arrive. There’s no chance of that happening.
As we all unload our things from the bus, Chris speeds inside with us hand in hand. We get our room key and are miles ahead of everyone else as we head to the elevators.
As soon as the doors shut, my back is pressed against the wall with Chris cornering me. His lips dive for my neck, sucking on my sweet spot as he parts my legs with his knee.
“Are you gonna be ready for me baby?” he asks, his voice low and grovely.
I nod, a weak sound leaving my throat as I try to respond.
The elevator door opens on our floor. He turns around to check of anyone standing there before his head whips back around, his hand gripping my jaw as he places a sloppy kiss on my lips before leading us to our room.
He keeps one hand on me at all times, even when he’s fiddling with the key to open the door. He kicks it open with his foot, pushing me inside before throwing our things on the floor and picking me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Hey!” I exclaim as he kicks the bathroom door shut.
“Hmm?” he hums, his lips too busy finding mine.
He sets me on the bathroom counter, his fingers trailing up my shirt before I have a chance to process anything. I open my legs more for him, earning a cocky grin.
“Needy girl, huh?” he mocks me.
I nod lazily, my mind in a trance as I watch him pull his shirt over his head and discard it on the floor.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you tonight,” he mumbles, unbuckling his jeans and yanking them down, revealing his hardened cock, restrained by his briefs. “Had to talk to everyone tonight like you weren’t the only thing on my mind.” His hand dips into his underwear, slowly exposing his dick, decorated in veins and a red, swollen tip, leaking as it begs for a release. “Why don’t you be a good girl and suck me off for giving you a win tonight?”
I look at him in shock, his confidence so evident, it’s making me feel small and innocent. There’s an element in it that I love.
I nod, unable to say anything else.
He cocks his head to the side and says, “Get on your knees and show me how good girls behave.”
My heart plummets to my stomach. This is new. And I fucking love it.
I hop off the counter and lower my knees to the ground. As soon as my legs hit the floor, Chris continues.
“Stick your tongue out for me.”
I do as he says, and he begins slapping his dick on my tongue. The precum leaving him sticks to my mouth, creating a line of spit mixed cum between my tongue and the head of his dick. The both of us groan at the sight.
He rests his dick on my tongue, letting me do the rest of the work. I take my hand to the base of his cock, stroking lightly as I spit on his tip, letting it drip down and lube him up through each stroke. I lick up and down it a few times before jerking him slowly as I swirl my tongue around his tip.
His chest falls forward, his hands gripping the marble counter top for support. “Fuck baby, just like that.”
I nod at him, continue that same rhythm for a minute or two. After some time, I continue stroking around his tip, knowing he’s the most sensitive there. I dip my mouth, dragging my lips lazily across his length until I reach his balls, sucking them into my mouth.
“Fuck!” he yells out, his eyes pinched shut in pleasure as his knees buckle. “Fuck don’t stop doing that. Please don’t stop.”
I suck on him harder, his balls filling my mouth. He drops his head lower, the crown falling off his head and clashing against the sink.
I watch as his dick continues to leak, signaling that he’s getting closer and closer to his high.
I lift back up to his tip, spitting on it again before taking it in my mouth as deep as I can. Chris quickly straightens up, grabbing the back of my head and thrusting into my mouth with force.
“I’m so close baby, please. You got it. Just like this for a little, I promise,” he says, knowing I can only handle so much of this.
I look up at him, my eyes dripping as his thrusts becoming more powerful. Spit begins to dribble down my chin onto my neck, coating the ‘C’ necklace that he got me for our last anniversary.
His moans are the most perfect sound. As his pleasure hits an all time him, he blindly grabs the crown showcasing his victory from tonight and places it on his head without a care in the world. It rests sideways, propped up by his curls.
His arms flex with every thrust, his grip on my head strong and far from letting go. I watch as his stomach tightens, his hips jerking messily before stilling in the back of my throat.
I do my best to hold steady, but I can’t help my fingers digging into his thighs as I struggle to keep myself together.
He groans as he releases his cum into my throat, dripping down without me even having to swallow. When he slowly removes himself from my mouth, I can’t stop myself from coughing, wiping my mouth after it’s been spilling my saliva.
“So perfect, baby,” he says, wiping my chin with his thumb before kissing me softly on my swollen lips. “Let’s get you in the shower and cleaned off, okay?”
I nod as he peels my clothes off, knowing that this is only the start of him tonight.
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innuendostudios · 2 months
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New video essay! On the Reverse Gish Gallop - how conservatives can ignore 90% of your argument and still appear to be winning.
If you would like more of this, subscribe to Nebula and/or back me on Patreon!
Transcript below the cut.
Say, for the sake of argument, you’re watching a political debate on TV. The conservative candidate has used their opening arguments to dump a truckload of dubious claims on their opponent. You recognize this maneuver: that’s the Gish Gallop! The debater makes point after dubious point, and, if the other debater doesn’t rebut every single one, they will appear to have lost the argument. These points don’t have to be good or hard to disprove, there just has to be a lot of them.
Oh, but what’s this? The liberal candidate seems to have come prepared! That’s new! They succinctly and efficiently dismantle each of their opponent’s arguments, offering a clear rebuttal to every single one. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve heard this particular gallop. So, the conservative’s petard has just fully hoisted them. [“What a hoisting!”] They’ve just lost their own game and have to go on the defensive… right?
Turns out, no! The conservative points to a minor error - maybe the liberal said their program would cost $40 million but is actually estimated to cost 43 - and treats them as an ignorant sap who can’t even count correctly. That is now the subject, everything else has been forgotten, and the liberal is backpedaling.
Wait, you exclaim, how does that work?! The liberal has to rebut each and every point but the conservative takes issue with one and stays in the driver’s seat? Are audiences fooled by this? Are liberals that easily snookered? The answer may shock you!
You’ve just borne witness to The Reverse Gish Gallop, where an entire argument falls apart if any of it can be disputed. These disputes, again, don’t have to be good, they just have to call the airtightness of the argument into question.
A good example is how conservatives obsess over gaffes. (Which, fuckin’... really guys?? [W, Trump]) Some Democrat will be all “conservatives want to shut down post offices as a form of vote suppression; they’re pushing voter ID laws and the post office is where many people get IDs; also we are relying more and more heavily on mail-in voting; they overwhelmingly try to shut down offices in Black and Latine neighborhoods; a lot of services like healthcare and courts still use physical mail by default and there can be serious consequences to getting it late; many elderly people still don’t use email, and, hey, maybe some of them like getting junk mail” “AH BA BA BA THAT’S IT THAT’S YOUR WHOLE LIFE NOW FOR THE REST OF YOUR CAREER YOU’RE THE ASSHOLE WHO SAID OLD PEOPLE LIKE JUNK MAIL.”
Your mistake was assuming that dishonest people abide by the same rules they impose on everyone else. When I was a teenager, some friends of the family would invite me along when they asked my parents to dinner, because I would play with their five-year-old and let the grown-ups chat in peace. And he’d make up games where we’d bat a balloon back and forth or whatever, and change the rules on the fly when it suited him. Because the rule wasn’t actually “you can only touch the balloon once per turn;” the rule was “Andrew wins.”
The purpose of a Gish Gallop is to establish a narrative not through argument or logic but force and volume. Once established, it takes a lot less effort for them to maintain than for you to establish a new one. If they shake confidence in your argument, the audience will often revert to the previous argument, whether or not that one was ever proven. It’s a not about which story is true, it’s about who sets the parameters for all stories going forward; who got there first. This is not a debate; this is a Zerg Rush. Understand: a dishonest argument is Lego - you haven’t dismantled it until every brick is separated. But an honest rebuttal? An honest rebuttal is Jenga.
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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year
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Dandelion (A Villain Story)
You stub your toe and the mind control breaks.
Your power snaps from the shock and the hundred or so clones you’d been controlling disappear with a pop! You hold your breath as the steel they’d been carrying clangs loudly in the cavernous room. You’re the only one in this sector but that was loud. If by some miracle nobody heard that, surely your abductor will notice you’re free any moment now—
Devil Eyes doesn’t notice.
You cover your mouth with both hands, pressing so hard that your teeth creak. There’s a hysterical giggle struggling to claw its way up your throat. You’ve been shot, stabbed, and beaten, but this is what it takes to break Devil Eyes’ control? Your pinky toe throbbing after kicking a stray steel beam?
Fuck, that’s funny.
You breathe in through your nose slowly. Only when your lungs hurt worse than your toe from how much air you’re holding in them do you release your mouth. You breathe out in six quick bursts. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
You’re free.
Holy shit, you’re free! How long has it been? Six months? Eight? You know it’s not summer anymore, but Devil Eyes has had you working in the depths of his lair for weeks now and you’ve lost track of time. That’s fine though, you’re pretty sure you’re still in Arizona and there’s sunshine even in winter. Your breath hitches in your chest. The sun! Oh, the sun, you want to see the sun so bad and now you can because you’re free--
Don’t cry. Don’t make a sound. Assess. Act.
Escape.
You’re in the delivery sector. There are piles of steel everywhere you look, tossed this way and that so that it looks like a giant failed game of Jenga. Your clones were carrying the beams from the truck in the docking bay to the appropriate facilities deeper into the mountain when they disappeared. Ha! Fat chance Devil Eyes finishes construction without you around. You’re the only reason this mountain lair is even possible. It would serve him right to spend so long stealing materials only to have nobody around to do the hard work for him.
That’s why I need to escape.
Spite is what keeps you moving. The truck driver is gone. He’s a real minion of Devil Eyes, not a brainwashed one like you. That means he’s probably in the living sector enjoying the benefits of willing servitude. Benefits like soda. And beds. And those little pillow mints they give you at hotels.
Your mouth waters.
Don’t you dare go back for a pillow mint, you scold yourself. It doesn’t matter how bad you’ve been craving one, forced to set them out and never allowed to eat one. You have the chance to escape and you’re going to take it.
You climb into the cab of the truck. The driver took his keys with him, but you’re a villain. You have the engine turning over in less than five minutes, the bed of the truck detached within three, the seat and mirrors adjusted in less than one.
Ten minutes after stubbing your toe, you’re driving out of the mountain and into the deepest of Arizona nights. Nobody sounds any alarms. Nobody starts shooting at you. How could they? You were the one manning the graveyard shift in the security room. You were the one at the turrets. You were the one doing it all while Devils Eyes and his crew slept.
The stars stretch above you. You crack the windows of the truck and suck in the fresh air greedily. Your eyes burn.
Not yet, you think. Your eyes smart and you bite your lip until the lump in your throat goes away. Not yet. As a villain, you’ve always made it a point not to let your guard down until the job is done.
This job isn’t anywhere near done.
----------,
Getting into one of Hero Force’s headquarters is either the best thing to happen to a villain or the worst.
Breaking into one is a badge of honor, especially if you’re able to get away with a trophy. Information, a hostage, even a paperclip. Anything that proves you were there and they couldn’t stop you from doing whatever you wanted.
Getting taken into Headquarters is a nightmare. It means you’ve been caught and caught good. Getting taken into Headquarters means the end of a masked villain’s career. Hero Force knows who you are from that point on and, even if you escape, they’re not going to lose track of you any time soon.
You’re not sure what walking into one is. A disgrace? An act of stupidity?
You park your truck illegally and push both doors open at the same time just a little after sunrise.
“Hello,” you say to the receptionist. He’s wearing the characteristic black mask of Hero Force personnel and you wait until his brown eyes shift from his computer to you before continuing. "I’ve been held captive by the villain Devil Eyes for the last six or eight months and I’d like to talk to somebody about it.”
“Pardon?” the receptionist asks. His fingers are frozen over his keyboard. “You—pardon?”
“I don’t know what month it is,” you say. Abruptly you realize you’re not wearing a mask. A chill shudders down your spine. Devil Eyes knows what you look like and now Hero Force does too. You are so fucked, you’re going to need to flee the country-- Think about it later. “So I don’t know how long I was brainwashed for.”
“Brainwashed?”
“By Devil Eyes,” you say. When the receptionist continues to stare at you, you shift your weight from side to side. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but is there someone higher up I could speak to?”
It turns out there is. The receptionist is only too happy to call them for you and things move very quickly after that.
They take you to the fifth floor of headquarters and into a very nice conference room. The receptionist brings you coffee, water, and a fresh change of clothes. He doesn’t bring you pillow mints when you ask but makes up for it by fishing out a crushed granola bar from the inner pocket of his blazer.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” you say. Crumbs tumble from your lips and onto the oak table. “Fuck.” You lick your fingers and pick them up as best you can, scooping them into your mouth as you go.
“We’ll have something delivered,” he says, eyes skittering away from you. “It’ll probably arrive before Arctic—”
“No, it won’t.”
You twist in your seat, granola bar stuffed in your cheeks. Arctic is standing in the doorway in full costume, sans cape. Her slate grey eyes study you a moment before she steps into the room. Rag Doll, her second in command, follows silently behind. Unlike his boss, he’s half in his civvies– jeans and long-sleeved Henley that shows off the extra joints in his arms and legs. His patchwork mask does little to hide the bags under his eyes.
“Ma’am,” the receptionist says. He’s flustered in the presence of the A-rank heroes, you can see it. He sketches out a bow and then seems to think better of it, jerking ramrod straight and shuffling towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Arctic watches him go with one pale brow raised.
As soon as the door shuts, Rag Doll sighs. “It’s his first day.”
“He didn’t get their name, did not relay a proper history, and called me ma’am,” Arctic says in her heavy drawl. She frowns and smooths her white hair away from her face. “That’s three strikes.”
“Wait until he watches all the HR videos before you start handing out strikes.”
“He should have finished those before he was stationed at the front door.” Arctic strides around the table and takes the seat at the head without looking at you. She pulls out a notebook from her utility belt, flipping to a blank page, and then finally looks at you. “Do you need another granola bar?”
Oh. She was stalling until you could finish eating. A smile comes to your face unbidden. “I missed your southern charm, Arctic.”
Arctic drops her pen.
Rag Doll, halfway into his seat, freezes. He stares at you with wide eyes. “Virus?”
Oh yeah. You used to compliment Arctic’s Southern manners a lot before Devil Eyes got you. “Long time no see.”
“Long time—it’s been a year,” Rag Doll says incredulously.
“You look awful,” Arctic says without a bit of manners to be found.
“A year?” The room swims. Since the wallpaper kind of reminds you of bile anyway it’s no surprise what happens next. “Fuck.”
You throw up.
------------------.
“I was going on the straight and narrow,” you’re saying an hour later. You’re in a different conference room, this one on the third floor. The walls are a nice, soothing blue and there’s a vanilla air freshener plugged into the wall. “I really was.”
“You’ve been with Devil Eyes this whole time?” Rag Doll asks. He’s seated across from you, leaning forward onto his elbows. He’d stopped Arctic from putting the power suppressors on you. She agreed when he pointed out they might kill you in your fragile state. “There’s never been any indication he can hold someone that long.”
“Well, he can,” you say. You wordlessly accept the tea Arctic slides across the table. The heat of it shocks you in the best way. You drink greedily, relishing in the warmth as it slides down your throat. “And not just one person. He could hold me and five of my clones at first. Then ten. Then twenty.”
“But your clones are you,” Arctic says. She refuses to sit, standing behind Rag Doll. She crosses her arms. “It’s impressive he was able to hold you that long, but it was just you.”
“Impressive?” You laugh without humor. “I’m not exactly impressed.”
“She didn’t mean anything by it,” Rag Doll says. He looks over his shoulder at Arctic and, when she nods, he continues. “It’s just that, from what we know about your powers, holding you and your clones would be the same as holding one person.”
“It’s not,” you say. You’re giving away too much information about your powers, but you don’t care. Devil Eyes needs to be stopped. “Every one of my clones is an exact replica of me. An exact autonomous replica of me. Otherwise, I’d have to be some sort of supercomputer to control them all.”
“You’re not?” Rag Doll asks. His voice is light, like it used to be during your fights. Teasing banter.
You’re not in the mood for banter.
“No,” you say shortly. “If I was, I wouldn’t have been caught.”
Rag Doll sobers. “How did that happen?”
“I was getting out of the game,” you say. You wipe the back of your mouth. The tea is sitting better than the granola bar, but you’re still feeling unsteady. You clear your throat. “I should have just disappeared, but I didn’t. I let a few of the locals know I was going to be leaving. Stupid of me. Stupider when I agreed to come to the goodbye party they were throwing.”
“Locals?” Arctic asks. Her voice is smooth and cold. “Which locals?”
You shrug. “Dreadwatt. The Ice Twins were in town back then, they said they’d stop by.” Your lip curls. “Devil Eyes.”
“That doesn’t sound like a very fun party,” Rag Doll says.
“No.” You didn’t think so either. But how do you explain that they were the only people who thought your low-level villainy meant something? Heroes and civilians just found your antics annoying. Villains found your schemes clever. “It was a way to mark the end of an era.”
“What were you going to do after?” Rag Doll asks.
Were. You can’t get mad at the past tense. You’re sitting in Hero Headquarters without a mask. Arctic has probably memorized every single one of your freckles. Even if she hasn’t, Devil Eyes knows your face. There’s no way you get to retire to an honest life now. “I was going to be a librarian.”
Rag Doll perks up. “You like to read? What genre?”
“Mostly science fiction.”
“Me too! Have you read—”
“Devil Eyes got you at the party?” Arctic interrupts. She shoots Rag Doll a chiding look and claims the seat next to him. She fixes you with her chilling gaze. “That right?”
“Yeah.” You don’t remember the moment it happened. That’s the scariest part. It took you weeks to be able to feel Devil Eyes’ control. Until then, everything still felt like your choice. “He had me start construction on his lair about a month after that. He was sure his control would hold by then.”
That makes Arctic lean forward. “His new lair? You’ve been there?”
You grin bitterly. “I’m the one who dug it out.”
“Dug it out? It’s underground?”
“Some of it.”
“Where?” Arctic flips open her notepad. “We know it’s east of the city and, judging by the truck you arrived in, it’s in the deep desert. Can you give us coordinates?”
“I’m pretty good with stars,” you say. Even now you can remember the exact position of them the moment you left the mountain. “I know exactly where it is.”
Arctic can’t hide the impatience in her voice. “Where?”
“Not so fast,” you say. You lean back, crossing your arms. Your heart pounds against your ribs. “I want a deal.”
Arctic snarls. “You don’t understand what’s at stake—”
Rag Doll puts a hand on her arm, quieting her. He smiles at you. “Now, Virus, you know—”
“Don’t call me that.”
Rag Doll blinks. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t call me Virus,” you say. Your skin itches and you dig your nails into your arms to keep from scratching. Devil Eyes called you Virus. “I retired. I’m not Virus.”
“Then what would you like us to call you?”
Your mind scatters. “I don’t know. Not that.”
“Alright,” Rag Doll says gently. He waits a moment and, when you don’t offer up anything else, says, "You know we can't offer immunity agreements. Foresight would have to be here for that and we don’t have time for him to fly down from New York. What I can do—”
“I don’t want immunity,” you interrupt.
“You don’t?”
“You don’t?” Arctic echoes. She frowns, seemingly shaking off her impatience. “You’ll still be charged with your previous crimes, Viru—sorry. You’ll still be charged with your previous crimes.”
“That’s fine.” It’s not. You rub your arms, fingertips worrying at the half moon indents your nails bit into your skin. It’s the price you’re willing to pay to take down Devil Eyes. “That’s fine. I’ll pay for those. But I want to be there when you raid his lair. I want to be there when you catch him.”
“That’s too dangerous,” Rag Doll says immediately. He shakes his head. “Arctic and I both have mental defenses, but you don’t. We know your power and now, knowing the extent of it, we can’t risk having him turn you again. It’d be like facing an army—”
“You’ll need an army against him,” you interrupt again. You press a hand against your chest. “I know how many minions he has. I know the layout. I know the location. You need me.”
“But if he gains control of you again—”
“He can only control twenty of me,” you say. You’re feverish and jittery so you stand. You pound your hand against your chest. “Only twenty, so I’ll be a hundred of me. I’ll be so many that those he manages to ensnare won’t stand a chance against the rest. I can do it. I can be more than he can handle. He got the jump on me but he won’t again.”
Arctic furrows her brow. “A hundred? You can make that many clones?”
You laugh darkly. You weren’t a good villain. Your goals were always too small. Robbing a grocery store, taking over the local theater, stealing the water from the water tower. They don’t know what you can do. “I can do more than you know. I can do more than Devil Eyes knows.”
Silence fills the room as the heroes think. The air freshener sprays a new puff of vanilla.
Rag Doll clears his throat. “If we let you come—”
“Rag Doll!”
“—if ,” Rag Doll emphasizes to Arctic. To you he says, “You won’t kill anyone?”
Of course I’m going to— “No,” you say. You cross your fingers under the table. “It’s just….” You look down at the wood grain. You say in a small voice, “I had to escape alone.”
Whatever protest Arctic was about to voice dies on her lips. “There were others there?” Her gaze sharpens, a bloodhound on a scent. “Who? Where?”
Aha. You guessed right. Arctic is patient. Arctic is polite. She’s been neither of those things during this conversation. What she has been is impatient and demanding. Devil Eyes has someone Arctic cares about. Devil Eyes might even have a hero from Arctic’s team.
“I didn’t see them,” you whisper. You glance up from under your lashes to find the heroes hanging onto your every word. “But I know where he keeps them.” You bite your lip. “I—I shouldn’t have left them there. I know what it’s like being under his control. I know what he does.” You sit upright, meeting their eyes unflinchingly. “I want to save them. I’ll pay for my crimes after, I swear. I won’t run. But Devil Eyes needs to be stopped.” You let your voice crack. “Please. I need to help stop him.”
Arctic softens. “Virus—sorry. Please, is there anything else I can call you?”
Your lip trembles. “My mother called me Dandelion.”
“Dandelion,” Arctic says. “That’s lovely. Dandelion, I understand how you feel. I don’t think—”
Rag Doll stops her with a hand on her arm. “Arctic? Can we talk in the hall?”
“Of course.”
You watch the heroes leave the room. As soon as the door closes, your lip stops trembling. Your shoulders straighten. Your eyes stop glistening.
Rag Doll and Arctic will argue for ten minutes. You’re a former villain and, despite your lack of real villainy in your history, you can’t be trusted. You know Devil Eyes’ hideout, but you’re also fresh out from his control. You’re powerful, but that power can be turned against them.
But those arguments will only last ten minutes. The reality is that they don’t have a choice. You're not going to give them the location without being allowed to tag along. They don’t have time to wait for Foresight or even the Mind Squad who specialize in dealing with mental powers like Devil Eyes’. They’re heroes and the villain has one of their own. They have to act.
You settle back in your chair. They’ll agree to your terms. Your stomach twists. It’s nauseating to think about going back there. A year. Devil Eyes stole a year from you.
You hide your grin as the door opens.
“Alright. Let’s get you kitted out. You’re coming with us, Dandelion.”
You’ll be stealing a lot more from him.
Then instead of crying, maybe you’ll be laughing.
Only one way to find out.
--------
Thanks for reading! I love mind powers in the Superhero universe but they sure are a pain to write!
If you’d like to read stories like this or like others on my blog a week before I post them here, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)
Next week’s story is already up! Summary:
Sometimes, when things go very wrong, the Chosen One gets a wish. That’s where Danielle comes in. TW blood, death, violence, child death
Thanks again for reading!
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in1-nutshell · 4 months
Text
Bot Buddy who is Bulkhead's older sibling, member of the Elite Guard, interacting with Team Prime
SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ Bot reader
Transformers Prime
Part 3 of 3
“… Bulkhead did you adopted this one or something?”—Buddy
The team is surprised to see Buddy get on their knees to pay more attention to the humans. Buddy later gets an altmode with them and gets to hang out with Bulkhead.
Speak of which has not left Buddy’s side since the tackling. He wants to catch up on everything with them. Bulkhead is a bit hesitant when they are put out on the field without him. It makes him antsy. Not because he thinks that they can’t handle themselves. Mainly because his deep fear is them disappearing like last time and it being permanent.
“Buddy just promise me to not take on anything you know you can’t handle, okay?”--Bulkhead
“Don’t worry Bulk. Anyways it’s my job to worry about you not the other way around.”--Buddy
“Can we both worry about the other?”--Bulkhead
“… Alright.”—Buddy
He nearly had a spark attack seeing Buddy launch themselves straight at Predaking.
“Get off of him!!!”--Bulkhead
They did well by themselves for a while too. Whenever both are paired together, it is the equivalent of several semitrucks ramming into one another.
They do have their little sibling spats, mainly over little things like where to play lob or if it is necessary to break some things.
“Why are Bulkhead and Buddy not speaking this time?”--Wheeljack
“Bulkhead accidentally knocked down Buddy’s Jenga game.”—Miko
Miko via osmosis was now Buddy’s other sibling/charge. If Miko isn’t with Bulkhead or Wheeljack she is most likely with Buddy. Miko likes doing trust fall from Buddy’s height. Buddy has expressed the displeasure of the action, but they are powerless against Miko’s puppy eyes. Absolutely loves her to death though.
“Am your new charge now?”--Miko
“Miko you aren’t my charge.”--Buddy
“…”--Miko
“You’re my child now.”—Buddy
Jack is a bit wary of Buddy due to their giant size but gets used to them after a bit. Doesn’t hang out with Buddy that often but knows that he can trust Buddy.
“So, how’s things at school working out?”--Buddy
“There okay. I got a B in today’s Math test.”--Jack
“That’s nice.”--Buddy
Raf loves telling Buddy stories about his day and what has happened before their arrival.
“Then what happened?”--Raf
“I got his shaft and rammed to the side of the build to stop the both of us from falling off of the exercise course!”--Buddy
“Cool!”--Raf
When June and Fowler see Buddy they think that maybe Buddy was a former Decepticon turned Autobot. They are a bit shocked to find out that they are related to Bulkhead. They don’t mind Buddy. Often if the three of them are alone they are often found talking about the stress of looking after others.
“So, I’m not the only one here that dies a little inside when Miko starts running to the ground bridge?”--Buddy
“That’s right.”--June
“Yes.”—Agent Fowler
Has told both June and Fowler that if any harm were to come towards the kids that they would do whatever it takes to get them to safety. It’s a bit of a reliever but they still worry.
“I would die for them.”--Buddy
“Well that’s nice for you to look after the kids.”--June
“I. Would. Die. For. Them.”--Buddy
“…”—June and Agent Fowler
Buddy has already told Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead that they could be a sub and would absolutely lay their life down to make sure the kids are okay.
Bumblebee doesn’t like the way they talk and later asks if they want to talk about it.
Bumblebee via osmosis is now small sibling.
“Mine now.”--Buddy
“Beep?(What?)”—Bumblebee
Arcee tries brushing it off, but deep down is a bit concerned and relieved knowing that Jack has another pair of optics on him.
“I would die for Jack.”--Buddy
“What?”--Arcee
Bulkhead understandably is the most upset of the three because he knows that Buddy is dead serious. Don’t get him wrong, having another pair of optics on Miko from going into the ground bridge is a huge relief but he also doesn’t want to lose them.
“I would die for you and Miko.”--Buddy
“…please don’t…”--Bulkhead
Buddy and Smokescreen surprisingly get along well. The team later finds out its because he was constantly following Buddy during their time in the Elite Guard.
“Remember when I put a bunch of bolts in some of the stun guns?”--Smokescreen
“Remember when I beat you in the shooting range on the bet of a couple of rust sticks?”--Buddy
Ratchet is a bit hesitant with Buddy. Mainly because he is worried, he has to deal with another Bulkhead that’s twice as destructive. But is surprised in how gentle they are and how they manage to keep others from bothering Ratchet for too long, has respect for Buddy.
“Miko how about we go on a ride together and not bother Ratchet.”--Buddy
“Thank you.”--Ratchet
Optimus is just glad that he has another member join their forces. And sometimes engage in some small talk.
“Did you ever sit on that one bench in Iacon that always seemed tittering whenever you’d put any weight on it?”--Buddy
“… yes, I remember that bench.”—Optimus
Wheeljack constantly tries to break Buddy out of their shell. He wants to see the bot that annihilated those cons constantly.
“C’mon just go berserker one more time.”--Wheeljack
“For the last time Wheeljack no.”--Buddy
“You’ll end up like Magnus if you keep having a stick up—”--Wheeljack
“If I do it one more time, will you stop it?”--Buddy
“Maybe.”—Wheeljack
Ultra Magnus to everyone he looks like he has a strict coworker relationship. But really, he has one of the closest relationships with Buddy. Absolutely has Buddy’s back on the battlefield and at the base. Has bend rules a bit if it’s for Buddy.
“Buddy.”--Magnus
“Ultra Magnus sir.”--Buddy
“How are this evening’s reports coming along?”--Magnus
“All written down, except the most recent one.”--Buddy
“That was our patrol, no?”--Magnus
“Yes, sir. It should get done as soon as I finish with Miko’s music practice.”--Buddy
“No need to do that report. I will handle it.”--Magnus
“Oh? Thank you, Ultra Magnus, sir.”--Buddy
“Please, Ultra Magnus is perfectly fine.”--Magnus
“Then, thank you Ultra Magnus.”—Buddy
“…What was that?!”--Miko
“…”--Bulkhead
“Miko?! What have I said about eavesdropping?”--Buddy
“…”--Bulkhead
Bulkhead doesn’t know what to think about it.
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lovings4turn · 7 months
Text
☆ strange twist of fate . . . (o.p)
— a simple video shoot for mclaren leads to a lot of previously unexplored feelings about your teammate (2.3k)
+ fully inspired by mclaren’s summer games video, it is my fav thing ever at the moment. nothing stirs up some tension like a game of twister, right?
+ contains very subtle suggestive references. like. one or two sexual jokes. likely not very accurate oscar but, oh well. banner and divider from cafekitsune
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the blinking red light of the camera in front of you indicates you’ve started rolling, and second nature (also known as years of media training) causes you to perk up a little as oscar begins to speak. even from his mannerisms, you can tell that he’s gotten far more confident being in front of the camera with you, the two of you building up a comfortable dynamic that you could stick to pretty well.
“alright.” oscar claps his hands together, shifting his weight back onto his right foot. the movement positions him just a little closer to you, his arm brushing against yours briefly. the hairs on your arms stand up in its wake, and oscar runs through the introduction of the video the media team has asked him to deliver.
“so, we’ve got some garden games,” he explains, voice dripping with faux enthusiasm as he turns to you with a coy smile.
the look generates a similar grin from you, something that usually happens when you’re in close proximity to oscar. not wanting to overthink it, you chalk it down to simple nerves. after all, you’ve only been teammates with oscar for six months. despite growing closer to him, it’s no surprise that your body continues to opt for bashful smiles over formulating a proper response.
surely everyone forgets how to speak to their coworker sometimes?
seemingly unaware of your internal monologue, oscar proceeds with his own conversation to the camera, eyes scanning the room and surveying the three games that have been set up for the two of you to play.
“we’ve got twister,” he notes, his accent thick as it wraps around the letters of the word. you ignore the way your brain plays the sound over again, an echo only you can hear. “and some limbo later, then jenga to finish it all off.”
if you weren’t too busy staring at the large, inflatable limbo bar in the corner, you would notice oscar’s eyebrows briefly jump at the sight of the twister mat. the dial sitting next to it on the floor reminds him of just what the game entails, and he swallows thickly.
deciding you should probably make an effort to speak at some point, you fake frustration and cross your arms over your chest.
“i’m pretty sure oscar’s beaten me in every other video we’ve done this year,” you begin, but you’re cut off.
“no, you won the uh- the lie detector thingy,” oscar points out.
it’s true. though you had somehow managed to get through the lie detector challenge receiving only one shock, oscar had absolutely crushed you at the ‘yes/no’ challenge, and managed to beat you in ‘hide and seek’ by somehow procuring the most effective hiding spot in the entire paddock. you don’t even want to remember just how badly you had done answering questions from the british driving theory test. 
keeping up the act, you roll your eyes and dismiss him with a wave of your arm. “okay, like, 7-1 then.”
at the sound of oscar’s high pitched chuckle, your face immediately cracks into a grin. it’s as though oscar’s laugh is programmed to make you smile no matter the circumstances, carrying some secret code that rearranges the chemicals in your brain — totally platonically, of course. you tell yourself that he’s just one of those people with infectious laughs, destined to make others join in their delight. 
“brilliant!” the director objects, a grin plastered onto her face as the camera cuts, signalling the end of filming for this segment. “that was perfect guys, thanks. if you wanna get ready for the first game for us.”
taking a deep breath, you nod and stride over to your first activity: twister.
similar to the motions you see oscar go through before every race, you make a show of stretching out your arms and neck with exaggerated groans, even shaking out your legs and performing a few deep lunges for good measure.
“just warming myself up,” you joke. “good thing i’m pretty flexible.”
“yeah? i’ll put that to the test, then,” oscar quips, clearly not realising that what he said could be taken in an entirely different way, a way that certainly doesn’t come to your mind the moment the words leave his mouth.
distracting yourself from his accidental innuendo, you move to one corner of the mat and watch oscar spin the dial for you, the pointer whirring around before landing on left hand red. you crouch down immediately and plant your hand onto one of the red dots, tilting your head to look up at oscar. it seems he was already looking, though, a small smile across his face as he rests his hands on his hips.
“your turn, oscar. you’re starting from the other side though,” you laugh, pointing over to the opposite side of the mat to you. “get over there.”
with a mock salute, oscar strides over to the opposing side of the twister mat, eyes locked onto you as he waits for you to spin the dial and administer his fate.
the game progresses as well as you could have imagined, the constant laughter between you two causing your bodies to shake and thus making holding yourself up a lot harder than it should have been. due to the increasingly awkward positions you find yourselves in, a mclaren team member has to step in at one point to spin the dial for you both since you’ve been rendered useless.
at one point, oscar groans softly at his latest instruction which leaves his body uncomfortably contorted. lip between his teeth, he stretches over to place his hand onto the green spot just across from you, granting you with the - undeniably enjoyable - sight of oscar’s toned arm inches away from your face. your eyes trace over the veins that protrude from his arms, splintering like lightning underneath his lightly tanned skin, practically begging your gaze to follow their path. 
having your insanely attractive coworker almost hovering over you as he pants and curses was definitely doing nothing to help you keep your focus on the content you were filming, and you prayed to any and every higher being that no one would be able to notice just how flustered you were becoming. you could see the twitter threads and youtube compilations now – y/n y/l/n being flustered for two minutes straight, y/n swooning over oscar, and whatever else the eagle eyed fans could create.
whoever at mclaren had suggested the two of you play twister was going to fucking pay.
you’re thankful when oscar speaks, dragging you away from whatever train of thought you had found yourself following.
“ah, what a stitch up that is!” oscar complains, letting out a few short breaths as he attempts to shuffle his body into a position that is easier to maintain. 
in return, you scoff, craning your neck to look at him with indignation.
“are you joking? i’m practically doing the fucking splits, oscar!” you object, nodding down towards your legs which are, to your credit - spread across the length of the twister mat in a way that isn’t entirely pleasant.
“guess the flexibility isn’t working out for you then?” oscar quips dryly. over the past few months you’d become accustomed to his more sarcastic, low-key humour, so it’s no surprise when a short laugh escapes your lips despite your current predicament.
a few more rounds pass without a hitch, but you should have known that fate would not be on your side for too long
“left foot yellow,” someone calls, and oscar looks down towards the mat you’re both occupying.
realisation dawns on you both at exactly the same time: the only free yellow spot lands directly between your legs.
“we can’t be on the- on the same sticker, can we?” oscar asks, voice fragmented through his breathy laughter as he tries to manoeuvre his body into a more comfortable position.
despite the way your heart pounds, you’re laughing too, shaking your head in what could be a gesture of amusement or admonishment depending on who you asked. though you should feel a little bad, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of oscar searching for every possible movement he can make, short groans and puffs of breath escaping his lips at the exertion. in an effort to prevent your mind from wandering further at the sound, you focus instead on the budding ache growing in your arms thanks to minutes of holding your body up in an unnatural position.
it’s no use, though. there’s only one spot he can logically move to. 
“oscar, you are not putting your leg there,” you protest, looking up at him with your brows furrowed. your voice becomes almost pleading despite the mirth in your tone. “oscar. oscar, call it quits.”
a flash of contemplation dances behind his eyes as he weighs up just how determined he is to win a trivial game of twister. at his hesitation, your palms grow clammy at the thought of oscar being even closer to you than he is now, and you’re scared that you’ll start to slip off of the mat if your mind doesn’t stop.
“does it have to be that one?” he asks, looking to the team behind the camera for confirmation.
amused, they simply nod, stifling their laughs with tight lipped grins. oscar takes another moment to figure out his next move before he lets out a groan, collapsing onto the twister mat with a breathy laugh. “there, i’m done. we’re done.”
victorious, you relieve your limbs of the strain they are currently feeling and flop down onto the mat yourself, raising your arms up in celebration as you grin widely at the camera.
“that’s one for me!” you shout, looking down to oscar so you can rub your victory in his face.
still on his back, you notice his eyes have fluttered shut and his chest rises and falls quickly as he catches his breath, cheeks flushed from the exertion. if the garish colours of the twister mat were not directly beneath him, you could almost allow yourself to imagine another, less innocent activity was the explanation for his fatigue.
taking a few moments to catch your breath, the two of you sit on the mat in a comfortable silence before oscar forces himself up, offering you a hand and helping you to your feet carefully.
the universe must have taken pity on you, as the rest of the video thankfully progresses with little problem at all. limbo is no contact at all, and being shorter than oscar gives you even more of an advantage, to his chagrin. your downfall is suggesting that your final round - jenga - be ‘winner takes all’. 
lesson learned: never underestimate oscar piastri’s jenga skills. 
overall, the shoot itself lasts maybe half an hour before you’re quickly dismissed by the camera crew, free to do whatever you please for the next few hours before more media duties call your name. it makes sense for you both to walk back through the paddock together, so that’s exactly what you do.
a comfortable silence blankets you both for a minute or so, before oscar speaks. 
“so,” he starts. though there’s an easy smile on his face, you can’t help but note a subtle hint of nerves in his voice. it’s a realisation that scares you a little. 
oscar had never really been nervous to speak to you. a little awkward, when you first met, sure, but his tone had never been laced with anxiety. 
you’ve made him uncomfortable, you worry. he noticed how you were looking at him during the video, noticed you were staring. fuck, fuck, fuck. you’ve ruined it.
“so,” you return, resisting the urge to wring your hands together like a chastised school pupil. “that was uh, an interesting idea, from mclaren. making us play twister.”
oscar nods and wets his lips. he seems to be weighing up his response carefully, and you brace yourself for whatever accusations he’s about to throw your way.
“yeah,” he agrees. “fun, though. think i definitely would have won, if you didn’t make me call it quits,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against yours. the unexpected movement causes you to stumble, and you laugh indignantly before shoving him back.
“what was i supposed to do?” you counter. your fingertips begin to tingle, heart beating a little faster as his words involuntarily bring to mind the memory of his body so close to your own. 
a cheeky grin rises to oscar’s lips, and though he shrugs, his next words are anything but casual.
“i don’t think you would have minded having me in between your legs.”
shock renders your mind blank as you scramble to come up with some sort of response. how are you even supposed to respond to that? deny it? make a joke out of it? brush over it and roll your eyes at him? nothing seems to be an appropriate response.
it seems oscar is enjoying your dumbfounded state, and if you weren’t floundering so much you would kill him for how much he was enjoying your misfortune.
“what do you mean?”
stupid.
like the little shit he is, oscar only shrugs again.
“just an observation,” he hums, coming to a stop outside of his driver’s room. though you think running away from the conversation seems a little juvenile, your hand hovers over the doorknob of your own room.
before he slips through the door frame, he speaks once more, crooked grin forming the words that would send you reeling for the rest of the day. 
“i wouldn’t have minded it, either.”
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lovelytsunoda · 10 months
Text
typical male // pato o’ ward
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summary: pato is nothing if not a simp for his girlfriend, the most wonderful woman on the planet, in his eyes. or, all the little moments that made pato o' ward feel like the luckiest man on earth
pairing: pato o ward x female! reader
warnings: smut scene, inappropriate use of a mclaren, fucking on the hood of said mclaren, pato is a simp and cannot go five minutes during the act without telling her how pretty she is. weddings and talk of. pato is the boyfriend we all deserve, a game of giant jenga played at a wedding reception (and may end a few friendships)
Tell me lawyer what to do, I think I'm falling in love with you
(..)
All I want is a little reaction, just enough to tip the scales. I'm just using my female attraction, on a typical male, on a typical male
i
the garage smelled like grease and pennzoil, the hood of pato's mclaren popped open and a bluetooth speaker in the corner blasting a playlist of blues-inspired rock and roll from the seventies and eighties. ac/dc. guns n roses. the usual.
pato didn’t mean to stop and stare, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself, leaning against the doorframe, eyes trained on his lovers ass, barely covered by her grease stained cutoff shorts.
she took his breath away.
"hey, beautiful." pato hummed, slipping his arms around her waist, gently kissing her neck.
"pato, i'm covered in grease, wearing the rattiest shorts i own and i'm not wearing a bra." y/n laughed, lacing her fingers with his. "i feel like a trainwreck."
"but you look incredible, love." pato insisted, peppering her face with kisses. his embrace was warm and comforting, a reassuring presence in her life.
pato made her feel complete, like she was the only girl in the world.
"and you know what no bra means." the driver hummed in between kisses. "easy. access."
"at least let me close the hood first." she giggled under his kiss, slamming the hood of the electric blue sports car down and wiping the grease off her hands as pato slipped his hands up her shirt, gently playing with her nipples. she moaned under his touch, heat growing between her thighs.
"lean down over the hood, mamas." pato hummed. "wanna see your beautiful body."
the hood of the car was cold against her skin, shirt still pushed up over her breats, making her jump in surprise. behind her, pato laughed, gently tracing the linework carnation tattooed on her back, just above the hem of her denim shorts.
"you okay, pretty girl?"
"your car is freezing, jesus!"
"sorry, corazon. we can head inside if you want?"
y/n snorted, resting her head on her folded arms as she looked back at her lover. "you and i both know that we aren't going to make it back to the bedroom."
pato laughed, playfully smacking her ass before pressing himself against her, fingers fumbling with buttons. "god, baby, i need you. i need you all the time, yeah, you looked so fucking sexy bent over my car like that."
"you need a new fan belt, by the way." she moaned, unable to speak as her boyfriend slid her shorts down her legs, revealing her lacy fuchsia panties. "yours is cracking."
"i love it when you talk dirty to me." pato laughed, half moaning as he undid his belt. "but i'm more concerned with taking care of my pretty girl than my car."
"mhm, spank me, papi." y/n joked, shaking her ass in pato's direction. she loved that she could goof around with him, that pato didn't take himself too seriously in the heat of the moment.
"do you have a good grip on the car?" pato asked softly, running his soft hands up and down her spine, giving her full body shivers. "i don't want you to get hurt or anything."
"baby, i'm fine. honestly, i'm shocked we haven't fucked on your car before." she giggled, reaching back to hold pato's hand. "you know that if anything feels off, i'll tell you."
pato gently let go of her hand, reassuringly tracing circles on her thigh as he used his other hand to tease his cock up and down her entrance, making sure that she was ready to take him.
he slipped in gently, listening and watching for any sign of discomfort before y/n reached once again for his hand, signaling that it was okay for him to start to move.
pato's pace was relentless as she moaned underneath him, whining his name as she squeezed his fingers.
"yes, pato! fuck, just like that."
"that's it, corazon. you're doing so well for me, yeah? so beautiful. so fucking beautiful and i wish you could see yourself the way that i see you every fucking day."
ii
the room was dark, the mirrorball hanging from the ceiling refracting the party lights against the wall. the music was loud, the singing bad as y/n and cate, callum illotts girlfriend, took to the stage, singing a duet of ‘the best’ by tina turner.
“i know that look.” alex palou laughs, clapping pato on the shoulders as he stares at his fellow testing drivers awestruck expression, the stars in his eyes as he watched his girlfriend butcher tina turners greatest hit.
felix rosenvquist snorts, looking over at alex “has he told you that he’s spent the last hour debating whether it not he should ask y/n to marry him tonight?”
“marriage?” alex snorted “dude, you’re still so young, why tie yourself down like that?”
“what if I want to be tied down? i love her and I want to spend my life with her” pato said matter-of-factly, pulling a small velvet box out of his khakis
“we aren’t going to stop you, but that perfect moment isn’t just going to present itself.” felix shrugged. “you have to make the moment yourself.”
back onstage, the song was ending, cate and y/n collapsing into laughter fuelled by adrenaline and sugar. the light refracted off her skin, making her glow like some kind of neon goddess in the nightlight.
“before I get off this stage, there’s something I want to say before I lose my nerve!” y/n shouted, lifting her cocktail glass into the air. “patricio o ward is the love of my life! he’s the reason I look forward to getting up in the morning, the driving force behind what I do. he’s my biggest supporter, and the best lover, but moreover, he’s my best friend.”
the room started cheering. felix nudged pato in the arm, the mexican driver getting to his feet with a smile and waving to the room as if he was the queen of england. y/n beckoned him closer to the stage, and pato began to wonder if this was the perfect moment.
the moment he would pop the question.
“patricio, my love, my light, my smile. my best friend.” she smiled, lacing her fingers with his. she’d have got down on her knees to ask, full proposal classic, but with the crowd in this room, it would turn into a sex joke. “will you do me the honor of being my husband? will you marry me?”
pato just laughed, opening the ring box in his hand. “i was about to ask you the exact same thing.”
they both laughed, wrapping their arms around each other on stage, in front of the whole indycar grid as pato kissed her softly.
“is that a yes?”
“you first, tough guy.”
“yes, of course I’ll marry you, pretty girl.”
iii
“you look so fucking hot right now.” pato whistled as his fiancée stepped out of the dressing room, fabric of the wedding dress swishing around her legs as she walked.
they do say not to let your husband see you in your dress before the ceremony, but seeing as y/n was technically the one that proposed, they said to hell with all the regular wedding superstitions.
"you've said that about every dress so far." she giggled, twirling to look at herself in the mirror.
it turns out that the lovesick male is also very unhelpful when narrowing down which dress to buy, as the specimen thinks that every dress is equally as hot.
the dress was simple, white fabric hugging all her curves, with a scooping v-neckline. she loved the way it looked, but wondered if it might be perhaps a little . . . pedestrian. but she didn't even want a big wedding, she was happy with a quiet family affair in cancun.
pato shook his head. "this is different, babe. this dress is the one."
"you don't think it's too basic?" y/n worried, swishing the fabric around once more as she stared at her reflection.
"i think it's beautiful, corazon. you are beautiful." he wrapped his arms around her waist. "i'd marry you if you were wearing ripped jeans and a grease-stained tears for fears shirt."
"good to know. when we have our vow renewal maybe i'll wear a leather skirt."
"vow renewal?" pato laughs, kissing her softly. "we haven't even said them the first time yet."
"i can't wait until we do." y/n sighs, leaning back into his arms. "i love you."
"love you more, pretty girl." pato grins widely, kissing her cheek. "so, how do you feel about the dress?"
"this is the one."
iv.
"pato watch out!" y/n laughed, watching her now-husband remove one of the large jenga blocks from the tower set up in the middle of the reception hall.
pato had stayed true to his word when he promised that it would be a small wedding, only family and close friends allowed to join them in the serene jungle of cancun.
in lieu of a guest book, the o'ward's had bought a massive handmade jenga set, and each of the guests had written a message for the happy couple on one of the wooden blocks now towering into the trees and the stars above.
"relax, honey, it's not going to fall." pato chuckled, using both hands to maneuver the wooden block. "elba, get me the step ladder!"
shaking her head, pato's sister brought over the small two-step ladder that the wedding guests had been using to play the life-sized game.
or, larger than life sized.
"patricio, if you fall, i swear to god." y/n half warned as she held the ladder in place, the glow of happiness and surreality on her face as she tried to comprehend that she was now married to her best friend in the entire world.
pato rested the jenga block on the top of the wobbly tower, straightening it and attempting to stabilize it without knocking the whole thing over. stasified with the structure's strength, pato let out a breath and descended the ladder, moving to stand next to his wife.
he thought she looked so beautiful in the soft, led lighting. the jungle clearing was right on the water, lit up by christmas lights stung between the trees and plugged into a generator. y/n had a hibiscus flower pinned behind her ear, and a small smudge of mascara on her cheek.
that didn't matter. she still took his breath away, made his knees go weak when she smiled.
even after marriage, he was still al lovesick fool.
felix was up next in the massive jenga game, pulling out a block from the middle that he could barely reach, getting alex to hold the step ladder in place as he ascended to the top of the dangerously rickety tower.
"i don't like the looks of that." y/n hummed, resting her head against pato's chest. "if those jenga blocks crush anybody at our reception-"
"they won't, don't worry about it." pato murmured, kissing her forehead softly. "i'm so happy we did this."
"me too."
"the tower's coming down!" alex shouted, pushing felix out of the way and into the water as the jenga blocks fell down.
in the opposite direction of the lake.
"what the fuck was that for?" felix shouted, surfacing in the turqoise waters as he began to doggy paddle back to shore.
"sorry." alex laughed. "i thought it was going to fall on you."
still laughing, y/n turned to pato, kissing him softly. "i love you."
"love you more, pretty girl. way, way more."
TAGS:
@oconso @libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @cl16version @unluckyhoneybee
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staratie · 4 months
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what games they’d play
bachelors edition
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sfw! summary: it was bad weather outside and the internet and electricity was down. what games would the bachelors play?
Sam - The Game of Life
Sam loves this game dearly and tries to map out his “future” in it.
It’s fun for him to see how different choices lead to different events in the game, some he wishes he’s able to do in real life (such as winning an inheritance from a relative)
Alex - Jenga
Alex likes to show off, so what more than doing so by how steady his hand is?
Harvey - Operation
He plays this game to help you understand the human body and what each bone does and is used for
Sometimes it can lead to “special touches” if there is a mood shift
Elliott - Clue
Elliott loves to add more back story to each of the characters to add more realism to them. He does this before you guys start playing.
He adds way more drama than needed, but because of that it makes it more fun.
“Oh, Miss Scarlett couldn’t help but use the candlestick to hit the poor fellow.” He said one time, “it shocked Colonel Mustard, who ended up fainting upon seeing the body.”
Shane - whatever Jas plays
She’s big into Candyland and likes to have a piece of pink cake while playing it.
Shane is forced to play as Lord Licorice every time
Sebastian - Cards Against Humanity
This is one of the only ways Sebastian thinks he can show off his comedic side.
He loves to make raunchy pairs or be as offensive as possible
Sebby has bought many expansion packs for the game, and really likes the nsfw expansion the most
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punkeccentricenigma · 5 months
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Can I pretty please request the rise boys having a significant other that knows how to mimic their comfort characters voices? Like a voice impressionist <333
Rise!Boys with Reader, who can mimic voices.
Relationship status: Romantic
Reader prounouns: They/Them
TW: Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language, Handling stress in an unhealthy way in the parts with Raph and Leo
A/N:
I'm sorry for the long wait! Lately, I've been under a lot of stress, and I tend to overthink to the point that, while writing, I also translate text, watch YouTube, and anime to replace my thoughts with something better. I apologize again! And I'm sorry if these headcanons suck! And don't worry, I'll fulfill all orders! I won't forget any of them! Please be patient!
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Leonardo
◇Let's be honest, after the Kraang invasion, he's traumatized, or at least has many moments of weakness where he needs comfort.
◇During those times, he often immerses himself in various comics or shows to forget what happened.
◇So one day, as he slowly began to stress over memories and didn't have access to the aforementioned things, you stepped in.
◇It's not like Leo didn't know your skills; he heard often and even insisted that you imitate his brothers to make fun of them.
◇Which kind of annoyed Donatello a bit; he didn't like being mocked that way.
◇Anyway, you started by imitating Jupiter Jim's voice, knowing he's one of the boy's parental figures.
"My boy! Don't give up yet! Furry creatures are attacking our base!"
◇Expect a shocked face, and then a wide smile.
"You didn't tell me you could imitate these type of voices!!"
◇He was really impressed.
◇After that, you just started role-playing for fun because why not? Lmao
◇Thanks to that, the boy felt much better <33
Raphael
◇Let's not kid ourselves, Raph didn't handle stress very well when he was the leader of the Mad Dogs.
◇He just didn't want to let his brothers down! His father! April, or definitely you! He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to you because of his incompetence.
◇That's why he often buried all those negative emotions deep within himself to replace them with fake joy or a smile.
◇But since you've been in a relationship with him for some time, and you've known him even longer, you knew something was bothering him.
◇So you often tried to talk to him about it, but the response was always the same.
"Oh, I'm fine! Really, you don't have to worry about me."
◇You didn't want to give up, but was there any way out of this situation? What could you do? You decided to take a break from it.
◇Finally, it came to a boiling point when you started playing Jenga in his room.
◇During the game, you could feel the scent of stress coming from him. You should get him deodorant sometime... Do deodorants work on reptiles??
◇In the end, Raphael lost, but he reacted differently than usual. He wasn't sulky, he wasn't embarrassed, and fired up for the next round... he was aggressive.
◇And he scattered the remaining blocks around his room, cursing.
"Screw this, I've had enough!"
◇You immediately reacted, calling his name in a firm tone.
"Raph! What are you doing!? It's just a game!"
◇He looked at you with a stunningly negative expression, accentuated by furrowed brow bones, and then all of that turned into a suffocating sight of sadness, with transparent tears soaking the red mask. He cracked; he finally cracked.
◇In a slow voice, he began to apologize, burying his head in shame between his spiky arms.
◇Finally, you started talking about what was bothering him, accompanied by his crying at some words. You tried to listen to him, hug him, comfort him with kind words, but you felt that in this situation, it might be too little, much too little.
◇So you looked around, and a risky but interesting idea came to your mind.
◇After a moment of searching through Raph's drawers, you stood in front of him in a proud pose, wearing on your wrists the distinctive spiked bracelets that were definitely too big for you.
"What are you doing?" Raphael asked in a sluggish tone, tilting his head slightly to the side. Emotionally, he had no strength for anything; he just wanted to sleep. [Y.N] had a satisfying smile on their lips.
"Hear this! I will kidnap Peach OVER and OVER until I pull it off! And no one can stop me! Losing is not an option! And neither is giving up!"
◇On his face, just like Leo, a painted shock appeared. You never boasted about being able to imitate voices! Amazing.
◇He's genuinely thrilled with this discovery.
"Oh, here you are, princess! Accept my love, or I'll kidnap you and lock you in my fortress forever!"
◇A genuine laugh escaped from the boy's lips, causing a blush of satisfaction on your face. Even though Bowser was Raphael's favorite comfort character, Peach was second, so why not play out such a scene?
◇And so, for the rest of the evening, you chased each other around the Lair, playing your roles, and incidentally involving the others in the fun.
◇Raph felt at least momentarily free from unhealthy stress, and he's grateful to you for that.
Donatello
◇"Oh fuck, damn it, I'm about to smash this thing--!"
◇Yes, this string of curses was uttered by none other than the teenage genius Donatello Hamato. And why? It's simple; he was trying to improve one of his battle shells, but for the past few hours, he couldn't get anything done.
◇His mind was exhausted, and his three-fingered hands ached every time he took one of his screwdrivers. He couldn't take it anymore!
◇Finally, Mikey suggested he take a break from it all, so Donnie put on his favorite purple hoodie and left the house. Where could he go? Simple.
"Oh, hey D, what's up?" [Y.N]'s voice echoed through their room as they noticed the window opening out of the corner of their eye. Soft-shell didn't respond, and if anything, he snorted softly as he closed the entrance and sat down next to the teenager who was currently sitting on the floor, leaning against their bed while watching an anime he wasn't familiar with yet. "Everything okay?" They asked, this time giving theri full attention to the boy next to them. His face indicated negative emotions, which worried [Y.N.] a bit.
"Not really." that's all that came out of the boy's mouth as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rested his head on their shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know."
◇Now you were quite worried about your boyfriend. Something must have happened, and Donnie needed comfort.
◇You suggested rewatching his favorite series where Atomic Lass appeared, and the boy agreed.
◇You knew that this character was his childhood idol, and knowing from your experiences, every child would want to hear something nice from their favorite character, so you decided to take a risk.
"You can do it, Donnie!"
◇You felt the boy shudder, and he immediately pulled away to look at you with disbelief written on those artificial eyebrows. He had known about your skills for a long time, but usually, they were used for ordinary jokes.
◇You smiled slightly, leaning closer to the turtle.
"Now, will you tell me what happened?"
◇And miraculously, it worked. Your boyfriend struggled a bit, but he finally shared what was bothering him, allowing you to support him.
◇And then there was fun with voice imitations again.
"Oh, oh! Do Dio! Or Gojo!"
Michelangelo
◇Mikey knew from the very beginning of your relationship that you had excellent voice imitation skills.
◇He even used that (with your permission, of course) to dub his webcomics!
◇However, other than that, you didn't use this skill until now.
◇Because your boyfriend was going through a slight breakdown related to drawing, specifically facing an art block.
◇So when he once again threw his pencil and started acting like a sulking child over the lack of a lollipop, you decided to step in.
◇Knowing that one of his comfort characters is Yatora Yaguchi, you decided to imitate him right then.
"Give yourself some time, Mikey!"
◇He looked at you slightly surprised from behind his shoulders, and a moment later, he smiled warmly.
◇Honestly, comforting Mikey is the easiest thing, so after a while, he took a break to spend time with you.
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neuroprincess · 1 year
Text
Law & Order: SVU - You meet again (Preferences)
Classification: Fluff
Pairing: Alex Cabot, Casey Novak, Liz Donnelly, Olivia Benson and Rita Calhoun
Warnings: None
Word count: +900
Alex Cabot
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- It's been 18 years since you saw each other in person, during your teenage years you kept sporadic contact through letters and phone calls. You felt proud of her every step, supporting her in all the courses, internships, sleepless nights studying, but two months before high school graduation the blonde cut ties abruptly, there were many unanswered phone calls and letters that returned or were never answered. This didn't stop you, years later, from sending one last letter to congratulate her when you heard that Alex had graduated in Harvard, her dream since you were kids. In the meantime you went on with your life, graduated, bought a house in Texas and got married at 30, divorced at 32, the dream house was sold and you started your own business in NY, a coffee shop in a good spot. Weeks after opening a group of detectives walked in and you immediately recognized a blonde head accompanying them. Much taller than you remember, wearing a feminine suit that fit her body well, eyebrows coming together in a thoughtful expression that you know well. She took a moment to choose something in the display case, and when she looked up, she was in shock. Your name escaped through her lips in a whisper.
Casey Novak
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- A simple softball game got you three days off work, a mild concussion and a pretty purple eye. The ADA visited you every day since the event, on the day you returned to work the veteran detectives made a few unfunny jokes about you being able to handle big men but getting knocked down by a ball, giving you slaps on the back in consolation for the attempt. At lunchtime you received a bouquet of yellow roses, a box of Swiss chocolate and a handwritten apology card inviting you to dinner to make up for the hospital trip. You had exchanged phone numbers at the hospital, so making the appointment was easy, finding a space in your professional calendar was not, and after two weeks you met at a restaurant a few blocks from your apartment.
Liz Donnelly
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- As you work together you frequently bump into each other in the hallways, there are always cordial greetings and brief conversations about the case you are working on, but nothing beyond that. Two months go by quickly, you seem to have fallen in everyone's favor and perform your tasks with competence, making Alex proud and excited to celebrate your work, especially for being your first formal job in the law area, you meet after work in a chic Manhattan bar, not far from the office. About 15 minutes later another blonde joins you, dressed more casually than usual, a smile painting her lips as she walks toward you after meeting you by happenstance. "Well well well, Cabot and her ward, so what are we celebrating? I'll pay for the drinks."
Olivia Benson
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- The same night of the misunderstanding the Captain sends you a message apologizing for the situation in front of your house. You talked for a few more minutes and she thanks you for always being the one with Noah on the occasions she can't, in the end you agree to let the kids meet on a weekend after their punishment. For your children it was long, but just two weeks forbidden to go out play after school and video games. Evelyn was anxious, running around the house to make sure everything is ready for Noah's arrival, initially you had arranged with the Bensons to meet at the park but the rainy weather made you change your plans, finally deciding on a day of board games. Catan, El Dorado, Detective, Monopoly, even Jenga and Twister, there is a table full of snacks and treats, a wine is kept in the back of the cupboard in case Olivia enjoys it, you don't know what they like so you buy everything. At the appointed hour the doorbell rings and you find mother and son as excited as you are. It would be a fun day.
Rita Calhoun
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- She didn't show up for weeks, every Tuesday you drove customers to other tables to reserve that special one in the hope that Rita would show up, which didn't happen. After the fourth Tuesday in a row you gave up. The new manager didn't harass you anymore, while he didn't make things easy at work, denying you overtime and events that usually pay a little more, after all, the generous tip from those rich people is what pays your bills. You chose to resign when you realized that there was no advantage or anything that bound you there, the emergency fund lasted long enough until you got another job, this time in an Italian restaurant, not as fancy as your previous job but much more welcoming. Monday is usually a slow day, you found out after two months as a waitress, so you are alone with the chef, working overtime late at night when she enters the homely environment, looking out of place in her expensive suit and high heels worth a rent. "Miss Calhoun?" you whisper, an involuntary smile on your lips. "I told you to call me Rita, sweetie." she sits up and signals for you to come closer. "What are you doing here? Forgive me, but this restaurant… it's not up to your level, it's not fancy." deep down you wait for the answer that comes next, not being able to think of any other explanation for her being on the other side of the city alone on a week day. "I came after the service of my favorite waitress."
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sassygaykuja · 2 months
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alastor hazbinhotel was really fun to watch progress as a character because at first i thought 'okay hes a spooky weirdo lets see what hes got going on' and then come episode 2 im thinking 'oh i see hes something way bigger and scarier and the funny deer is just a meat puppet that he puts on to be slightly less unnerving' and then by the finale i realized,
ohhh. he's a person.
yes obviously by the show's premise i knew he was human once, but the fact that his humanity is shown to be largely in tact despite being an eldritch horror masquerading as a deer was a genuine shock to me. he's not a vague incomprehensible threat like i thought, he's a guy crafting the worlds most dangerous jenga tower out of his own mistakes putting a smokescreen over all that so people can't see how little control he actually has and that's super interesting
the fact that he wants to be in control and be the ultimate puppetmaster or whatever and the fact that he pretty obviously cares about charlie (at least a little bit. probably not as much as youd think but still way more than he'd like) are at war with each other. my guess for where his character will go is that he's going to try way harder to shove down and eradicate any bit of goodness he's developed because he absolutely cannot get his ass kicked again
also he's ace and i just think that's neat
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rottenpumpkin13 · 11 months
Text
SOLDIER Vlogging Shenanigans pt. 8
[The video starts off filming a hallway. The person filming is walking at a rapid pace. Angered breaths are heard from behind the camera]
[The person filming stops in front of a door and wrenches it open. Inside the office are Genesis and Sephiroth leaning over a massive Jenga tower. They freeze like two deers caught in the headlights]
"WHAT are you two doing!?" Angeal snaps, moving the camera back and forth between the two SOLDIERs
[The camera zooms in on Sephiroth, who visibly tries to act natural as he stands up straight]
"It's not what it looks like."
[The camera whirs back in a blur to Genesis, who's taken to hiding his face behind his copy of LOVELESS]
"Genesis!" Angeal hisses. 
[Genesis let's the book drop and pouts. The camera briefly points to Sephiroth, who's now pretending to study the pattern on the carpet]
"We were bored!" Genesis argues.
"What did I say about you two and Jenga!?"
[Sephiroth and Genesis both groan, exchanging withering looks before answering]
"We're not allowed to play Jenga anymore," they answer in unison. 
"Why??"
[They sigh again. Genesis shifts uncomfortably in place, avoiding the camera. Sephiroth lets his shoulders drop, possibly in shame]
"Because we're violent and immature children who can't play Jenga without blowing up the SOLDIER floor," They both recite Angeal's words Verbatim.
"And I banned Jenga because??" Angeal presses, still not satisfied.
[The camera pans from Genesis to Sephiroth, both men looking visibly uncomfortable as they stare at the Jenga tower]
"Because last time we punched each other through a hole eight floors down and landed right in the middle of a board meeting and the president was so shocked he choked on his cigar and almost died," they recite. 
"Good," Angeal huffs. "Now put it away!"
[The camera whirs around as Angeal heads for the door, throwing it open. He viscously points the camera back once more. Sephiroth has hung his head. Genesis's lips are a cartoonishly pointed frown. Angeal slams the door shut behind him and flips the camera back to himself]
"Honestly, those two," he grumbles, walking down the hallway, "I leave them alone for five minutes and they—"
[Angeal halts in place as the sound of blocks toppling reaches his enhanced ears. His face twists into a mortified dread]
"Oh no."
[Genesis's muffled screeches fill the quiet hall ("SEPHIROTH!") followed by the unmistakable sound of a desk being thrown into the wall, multiple sword clangers, and an explosion. The camera shakes as Angeal swoops down, ducking]
"OH FOR THE LOVE OF—"
[He ends the video before the younger viewers can see him swearing like a sailor]
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outsideratheart · 1 year
Note
“Hey, if we don’t find someone by midnight…you and me…maybe?” - “Ask me properly and I might consider it.” with stina blackstenius
New Years Eve is one of those celebrations where real life never quite matched up with the movies. Sure the big party happened and you were the life and soul of it every year but come midnight you always found yourself alone.
It wasn't that you didn't have anyone to kiss, no this wasn't the issue at all. The issue is that you didn’t like meaningless acts of affection. It is the reason why you didn't ask someone out of February 14th just so you wouldn't be alone on Valentine's day and you refused to kiss anyone under Mistletoe around Christmas time. Kisses were intimate and you wanted to make sure they stayed that way which is why you wouldn’t kiss a stranger just for the sake of it.
Stina Blackstenius wasn’t a stranger though. The blonde kept you up at night and not in the way you desired. You are known as the captain of Arsenal, confident and calm under pressure. Every opponent tried and fail to make you crack yet whenever you are around Stina it’s as if your brain fails to function. Viv likes to tell you that she makes you human.
“You’re nervous. I’ve never seen you nervous” Beth says as you begin pacing her and Viv’s home.
It was a last minute thing. The newly injured couple didn’t feel comfortable going out to celebrate New Year’s Eve so they offered to host a party at their place. A text was sent to the group chat and in the end only the UK born players replied saying they will come, them and a certain blond swede.
“I don’t get nervous, i’m just energetic” you didn’t believe what you were saying and when you see the look on your team mates faces it was clear they didn’t either.
“Just ask her to dance. I, as the DJ for the night, will play a slow sexy song just for you” Katie says finding it very easy to tease you in your current state.
“And I will put you together when we play games. You can impress her with you competitive nature” Jen suggests.
“Right because if seeing me compete every single week when we play football isn’t enough, seeing me play Jenga will” you point to the box on the table.
“It’s strip jenga” Beth corrects you making you eyes widen in shock.
“No it’s not” Viv comes to your rescue.
You don’t get to discuss your plans further because there is a knock on the door. Due to you being frozen in your spot, Katie answers the door revealing Stina and Lina.
As the night goes on more people arrive, some you know from the club and some you have never seen before but even when you are surrounded by people your gaze remains on Stina. Every so often she would catch you staring, only you turn away before seeing her blush.
You finish a conversation with one of Beth’s friends when you try to find the blonde forward. At first you cannot see her but then you hear her Swedish accent.
“Looking for me?” Stina asks from behind you making you jump.
“I, ermm, well” you panic slightly. Her question lets you know that she knows you have been watching her.
“I have seen looking at me but you haven’t spoken to me all night” you can tell that she is disappointed by your lack of interaction but you couldn’t help it.
Once again you are at a loss for words. The affect this woman had on you was terrifying.
“Close you eyes” Stina rests her hands on your shoulders smiling happily when you do as you are told “Take a deep breath and say what you want to say”
“I like you. More than I thought I would and more than I should” you don’t take breath in fear that if you did you wouldn’t finish your sentence. 
When you open you eyes you see Stina smiling ear to ear. 
“I like you too” She says no more as she walks away only she doesn’t get far as you pull her back towards you.
The rash action gains the attention of those around you but you don’t care.
“Hey, if we don’t find someone by midnight…you and me…maybe?” It wasn’t quite what you wanted to say but the point was the same.
Stina looks around when she feels eyes of her.
“Ask me properly and I might consider it.” 
It might not have been a yes but it certainly wasn’t a no.
A couple of hours later and everyone gathers in the garden as the countdown begins only you cannot find Stina.
Midnight is only seconds away when you finally find the woman you planned on ringing the new year in with.
“Kiss me” Stina wraps her arms around your neck.
You don’t have to be told twice. When you feel her warms lips on your own it’s as if everyone else disappears leaving only the two of you. Much to your surprise but also your enjoyment, Stina deepens the kiss and when you feel her tongue against your lips you allow entry. When you pull away you cannot help but laugh, there are literal fireworks going off mirroring what you felt when you kissed her.
“Happy New Year Stina” you pull her into your arms.
When you hear the cheers of your team mates Stina buries her face in the crook of your neck. You on the other hand couldn’t care less, the teasing that you are bound to receive will be worth it because you finally got to kiss your girl.
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jiminsinterlude · 1 year
Text
Just One Kiss | JK
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: You and your best friend gets extremely drunk. While on your way to sobriety, a certain question comes up and erupts actions.
“Have you ever thought about kissing me?”
->Smut; Best friends
-> Warnings: drunk(slightly) sex, protected sex, oral sex(b.), multiple orgasms, explicit language
-
You sat on the couch with your head thrown back. You were utterly drunk and so was your best friend, Jungkook. You looked over at him as he had the bottle of soju in his hand, pouring you both another shot. He passed you the shot glass as you both drunk up at the same time. He went to pour another but the soju bottle was empty and that was the last bottle you two had.
“Ugh, Fuck. There is no more.” He placed the shot glass and the bottle down on the coffee table, taking your shot glass and doing the same. You laughed a little seeing him upset about there being no more.
“We’ve been drinking for the longest, lets just put a end to it now.” You put your legs up on the couch, now cuddling a random pillow.
Jungkook looked over at you with low eyes. “Im bored, Y/N.”
“I know you are. Wanna play a game? Like 20 questions?” He shook his head.
“We know everything about each other. What is there to ask?” You shrugged your shoulders and reached over to the remote, turning on the tv and going to a random channel.
You guys just sat there in silence, watching the television. Time passed and you began to get thirsty.
“Can you get me some ice tea?” He nodded his head and got up, walking to the kitchen.
He came back with two cups, drinking one and handing you the other. You sipped on the ice tea thinking about what you and Jungkook could do to pass time.
“What are thinking about?” You took another sip of your ice tea before settling it on the coffee table.
“Wanna play Jenga?” He laughed at your suggestion.
“I don’t even own Jenga.”
“Oh. Right.” You began to ponder again.
Your legs were getting a cramp from being balled up like they were. You stretched them out, your foot hitting the side of Jungkook’s leg. He looked at your foot, grabbing it which only led to him beginning to tickle it. Jungkook knew very well how ticklish you were and took advantage at any given chance.
“Jungkook! Stop, Hahaa.” Laughs left your mouth uncontrollably as he had both of your feet in a hold ticking them. You couldn’t even fight against him, he was stupidly strong. You began to hit him with the pillow you had in your arms. He laughed as well but then stopped with the tickling when your pillow hits got too hard.
You began to catch your breath, continuing to lay on your back with your feet in his lap. Jungkook knew how much you hated to be tickled but he still does it each time.
“Ugh, I hate you Jungkook.” He gave you his bunny smile.
“You know you love me.” You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. You kept your eyes on him though, he seemed bored again. That was until you watched his eyebrows rise and his gaze turning to you. Maybe he thought of something you guys could do.
“Have you ever thought about kissing me?” Your eyes slightly widened. You were slowly sobering up and this definitely helped.
“What?” You aren’t deaf, just in shock.
“Have you? like ever?” You stared at him, sitting up from your position and keeping your feet in his lap. You shamelessly admitted, nodding your head.
“Of course I have. Do you look in the mirror at yourself?” He laughed a little at your response.
“So I guess we don’t know everything about each other.” This guy. Who wouldn’t want to kiss him. “I’ve thought about kissing you too, many times.” Your head slanted. That was very surprising to you.
“Really?”
“Mhm, I’ve always wondered if you were a good kisser. I wonder if your lips are as soft as they look.” This has to be the alcohol speaking right? But drunk words are sober thoughts. In plus, you guys were hardly drunk anymore. About an hour had passed since your last shot.
“Why wonder if you can just do it.” He licked his lips, eager.
“So if I kiss you, you won’t back away?” You shook your head no. He just watched your next moves.
You began to take your legs off his lap, crossing them. He slightly mimicked your position, sitting on top of one of his legs, the other hung off the couch.
“Just one kiss Jungkook.”He ran his tatted hand through his long black hair. Nodding his head, he began to bring his right hand to your face. He held it gently, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip.
Jungkook leaned in and you did the same. His warm lips met yours, slowly. They were wet,soft and brought wetness to not only your upper lips but your lower lips too. You were getting too excited with just kissing him. You pulled away from the kiss, looking him in his eyes. Bad idea. This only made Jungkook want more. He smashed his lips into yours, kissing you hard but slow. Your lips moved against his as you felt his lip ring brush against your skin. His hand still held your face, the opposite was rested on your lower back, caressing it slowly. You leaned your head to the side, pushing your face more onto his. You tasted the alcohol that still lingered his lips, the taste was intriguing
He was such a good kisser, his tongue brushed against your lips repeatedly. Jungkook wanted access inside, to tounge kiss you. God, you wanted him to tongue kiss the inside of you. You pulled away once again. You looked at him with a pounding chest.
“Jungkook… Give me more.” A smirk was placed on his lips as he leaned back in to kiss you. But stopped right before he did.
“I thought you said just one kiss?”
“We both know we want more than just a kiss.” He snickered before pressing his soft lips back onto yours. The hand that was placed on your back was now making its way up your shirt to unclip your bra. You also began to move your hand towards his sweatpants.
As you placed your hand onto his lap, you immediately felt his bulging dick. It was hard as you squeezed it. All the sexual thoughts you pushed away for him was slowly coming back. Fuck, you wanted to suck him off. Yes, you wanted to suck off your best friend. You had your sexual fantasies too. You went into his sweatpants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing dick.
“Can I suck your dick?” He wasted no time to nod his head. You lowered your head and your mouth was around his tip in seconds.
“Fuck, wait Y/N.” It was too late, you were already taking him deeper into your mouth. Your head bobbed up and down his length. Each time you came up, you slid your tongue over the tip and sucked a bit harder.
Jungkook’s tattooed hand was wrapped in your hair, gripping it tightly. He threw his head back at the pleasure, thinking about how quick you were to suck his dick. His hips buckled up, thrusting himself into your mouth. Tears left your eyes as you choked on his huge dick. You enjoyed the taste of him, enjoying the sound of his moans in your ears. You heard him say he was soon to cum, causing you to suck just on the tip. Your hands wrapped around his length and began to pump him. He moaned your name as he came in your mouth.
You could hear how heavy he was breathing as you sucked the cum out of him. He pulled your head away by your hair, bring you into a kiss. He was quick to lay you on your back. Jungkook kept your lips attached to his as he took of your leggings. His lips made its way to your neck as he kissed it and sucked at it lightly. He reached for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You were left in your unclipped bra and soaked underwear. Jungkook took off his clothing as well, him being completely naked.
He eyed your body as he slowly removed your panties. He rubbed at your clit, smiling. “I’ve thought about fucking you many times too.“
You only responded in moans, it was music to Jungkook’s ears. “Fuck Jungkook. Wont you fuck me already?”
“So impatient,” was all he said before he lowered his head to your core. He dived right into you, as if you were the sea. Jungkook’s tongue lapped around your clit, followed by the intense licking. He kept his tongue pressed against you with pressure while he flicked at your throbbing bud. You moaned out his name, something you haven’t imagined in a long time. Your bra fell down your arms, eventually you just threw it across the room. Jungkook had his arms wrapped around your thighs keeping you into a firm position. Your hand latched at his hair, pulling and rubbing. You were already close.
“So good Jungkook, gonna cum.” His tongue slid downwards as he tongue fucked you, his thumb rubbing at your clit to keep a steady stimulation. Your eyes rolled back as you came on his tongue. Jungkook sucked the cum out of your hole before sitting up and looking at your now completely naked body. His mouth was covered in your juices. He looked at your body in awe.
“You’re so beautiful baby. Can I fuck you?” He didn’t even have to ask.
“Yes Jungkook.” He immediately reached over to the coffee table and grabbed his wallet, searching for the golden ticket. He pulled out the condom, tossing his wallet back onto the table. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, it was a hot sight to see. Jungkook was already pre-cumming, he wanted to be inside of you so bad. He maintained eye contact as he rolled the condom onto his rock solid dick. There were a few pumps given to it before he grabbed your hips and dragged you closer to him. Your legs were wide open for him. You were welcoming him with open everything.
Jungkook aligned himself with your throbbing hole, tears rolled down your eyes from desperation. You craved him, badly. The desperation ended when he pressed his tip into your hole. Your eyes rolled back as you took him whole immediately. Jungkook didn’t even give you a chance to adjust as he was already pounding into you. Your legs wrapped around him, hands placed on his forearms as he caged you in with them. He held eye contact with you as he fucked into your cunt.
“So good, so tight.” You walls swallowed Jungkook up, it was the best feeling to every to him. On your end, you were reaching your second orgasm. Moans filled the room. You couldn’t help but scream out for him, your best friend can surely fuck good.
“Jungkook…” Your attempt of trying to speak ended with only his name. But he wanted to know what you were trying to say.
“Yes love? Use your words.” So encouraging.
“Don’t stop, ok? Fuck me just like that.” His body lowered as his chest hit yours. Your hot bodies met, skin to skin. He brung his mouth to your neck, kissing it. Then to your ear.
“I will fuck you all night if you ask, baby.” Your moans increased louder as Jungkook slammed into you with harder thrusts.
He held onto your body and you held onto his. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and your legs still wrapped around his torso. His thrust were hard and fast, amazing and pleasing. Your walls clenched around him, fuck you wished that it was his bare dick inside of you. To feel him whole, for him to feel you completely too.
“Kookie, gonna cum again. God, you’re so fucking good. Fucking me so well.” He grunted as he began to go harder.
“You’re gonna drive me crazy Y/N.” Your insides snapped as you were now cumming all over the condom. You whined as you felt him pull out of you. But he was back in before you knew it. You were also in a new position.
You sat on top of him as he held your waist. From missionary to cow girl. “Want me to be your rider Kookie?” He gave you that bunny grin.
“Mhm, ride me baby.” You nodded as you began to bounce on his dick. Your pace was fast, wasting no time to reach your third orgasm. Jungkook had his head thrown back on the couch, placing a pillow behind his head so he could still look you deep into your eyes.
Not only was he killing your pussy, he was killing your nerves too. The eye contact took a great toll on you, it was breaking you from the inside.
“Stop looking at me like that, you’re killing me.”
“Or what? What will you do if I don’t stop?” You didn’t respond, just continued to bounce up and down on him. That was until you stopped and just began to grind on him. “Oh? You’re gonna stop huh?” You nodded your head but he only chuckled. “Even if you’re on top, I still have control.”
Jungkook had his hand placed tightly on your waist as he began to thrust upwards into you. Maybe you should’ve thought your actions through a little more. Your head fell into his neck, officially giving up. Your body began to react to him once again. Clenching around him and followed with your cum spilling all over the condom. The thrusts he gave you began to get sloppy. You heard Jungkook let out a deep moan.
“Y/N, baby. Fuck Im cumming.” His thrust began to slow down as he filled the condom with his cum. He rubbed your head while he rode you out.
“Kiss me love.” His words made you bring your head up to face him. Your eyes met his before they met his lips. His lips attacked yours. The kiss was heated, the both of your hearts were beating fast. They were trying there best to calm down but this kiss wasn’t helping. You broke away, now looking at your best friends beautiful face.
“This was supposed to be just one kiss.” He laughed at the irony, leaning in to give you a small peck on your lips.
“We both know we wanted more than a kiss.” He smiled at you before licking his lips. “I hope you know we aren’t going back to best friends after this Y/N.”
“And I have no problem with that.” He remained inside of you as you leaned in to kiss him again. You can catch your breath later.
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takeme-totheworld · 3 months
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Jenga Towers
Okay okay okay so here's the thing.
A worldview built on lies and propaganda and indoctrination is like a Jenga tower.
(It's not a perfect analogy, but stay with me.)
It's not a real building with a solid foundation. It's just a bunch of blocks stacked on top of each other. They're stacked in such a way that it's standing steadily for the moment, but it can in theory be made to collapse pretty easily.
(The reason things like cults are so hard to break out of is that they keep their members inside a bubble where nothing that might knock the tower down can get in. And if you absolutely must leave the bubble sometimes, they make sure you leave prepared. They train you to fend off blows to your tower, and teach you how to shore it back up if it starts looking shaky. These are those people who believe something so obviously, transparently incorrect, who aren't swayed by facts or logic in the slightest, who don't even seem to hear them. Because they're not hearing them. They've learned to be extremely good at not letting information sink in if it contradicts their worldview.)
But most people who've been fed false worldviews aren't in literal cults, and the kind of manipulation that's needed to keep them believing can be done with a lighter touch (although it's still manipulation and it's still effective!). And if you don't fully live in a bubble, if you have enough interaction with reality outside the manipulative environment, there's a decent chance that reality is going to start knocking your tower down sooner or later.
So, back to Jenga. There are two ways to cause a Jenga tower to collapse. One is the way the game is typically played: you remove one block at a time until it doesn't have enough structural integrity left to remain standing, at which point it falls apart.
But you could also just...kick it over. Bring the whole thing down with one overwhelming blow.
Breaking out of a false/indoctrinated worldview is kind of like that. It's not the same process for everyone. For some people, they experience or witness or realize something that's such a devastating shock to their system that their whole false worldview falls apart in a single moment. The universe just kicked their whole tower over.
And for some people their worldview comes undone gradually, one piece at a time. It can be a painfully long and drawn out process because often the person really doesn't want their tower to collapse and they're frantically trying to rebuild, trying to shove blocks back into the spaces they used to be in, trying to hold the whole structure up with their hands and fend off anyone that shows up to try to remove the next piece...anything to keep it standing a little longer. But once a person has gotten to that point, they're just fighting the inevitable. The tower is going to crumble. It's just taking longer.
Two ways to lose a false worldview. And the thing is, neither one is better. Neither one is easier to go through. (They both absolutely suck unless you weren't particularly attached to the belief in the first place.) And neither one means you're a smarter or stronger or better person than people who did it the other way. Because often, which path you end up taking has to do with a lot of factors that are outside your control anyway.
The important thing is getting there.
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