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#why did the quality just die
sobashahzadi · 7 months
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no pictures please,
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guess who? @randomnumber20
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bagofspoons · 2 years
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spadaaces · 11 months
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Doodle of the monkie kid himself💛
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amnestyliketaz · 1 year
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i made some
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i made two maxes bc i had to
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AND two graces
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these are not very good and i’m sure someone has done this already but i think they’re funny so enjoy
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simmshine · 1 year
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unhappy exile arc anniversary everyone look at my son rn
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skitskatdacat63 · 5 months
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Please god, can someone give me the strength to write ANOTHER 900 word essay in German, I DON'T WANNA I DONT WANNA PLEASE NO
#disliking this course more than i thought i would#oh yes german linguistics!!! okay!!! sure i love that!!!#and then my grade is dependent on literally only writing assignments#i actually want to die. this brings me soooooooo much fucking pain#i just really despise the whole idea of it#you put a bunch of people in one class with differing skill level#and then make them all write 900 word essays in a language theyre not 100% on yet#and the content is soooo much just him rambling in class IN GERMAN !#and not all of it is on the slides so fuck if i remember#and even if i did remember its so much me trying to focus on catching what hes saying than actually absorbing it#and the topic even if i was writing in english would make me struggle#and you guys know!! im great at rambling!! BUT NOT AUF DEUTSCH#and then. when you finally finish slaving over this fucking disaster of a paper#you submit it. and his only comment is just: sehr gur gemacht.#yeah why the fuck would i feel the need to burn myself like this +#only to get feedback that feels like he only looked at the word count and nothing else#like not even going to correct my grammer or???? what am i learning other than writing the same kind of bs sentences over and over#i despise word count essays btw#youre not really writing for quality youre writing for quantity#bcs if the only real outline you get is that you hit the word count then why do i give any shit about the quality of it#like i submitted a paper for my other class and she gave like 100+ edits on it#not only comments but also grammer correction#and like????? why do i not get that from the class that is teaching me a foreign fucking language#yeah sure its not bad to correct the grammar of your first language but cmon my god please help me a bit or smth#but yeah its due on Wednesday and i just think im going to fucking die before then#choking on my stress tears or smth#as i said it would be fine if it felt like he was actually checking them in depth#but i hate assignments where im only doing it for the grade. like i actually want to uhhh learn yknow???????#but yes i need someone to cheerlead me on or smth bcs itll take so much resolve to not just give up#and i wont give up bcs i want to keep my gpa but thats exactly thr issue isnt it? that i dont care about the content?
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kaythegayest · 1 year
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Boom superhero au stuff. I have school tomorrow so I'm going to do this relatively fast.
By the way, sorry this looks so bad, but in my defense it's like 2am in the morning.
The prompt was "this seems like a bad time to fall in love"
Did I make Midna work under dark link? Yes
was Midna tasked specifically to kill or kidnap Twilight? Yup.
Does this mean their are other people working under dink going after the others? You bet.
Is Twilight completely in love with this woman who's trying to kill him? Of course.
Would she actually kill him? Maybe?
I'm sorry but i just loves the idea of Midna trying to kill Twilight and Twilight just using the worst pick up lines because his brain short circuits every time he sees Midna. Bro her hair took me so long. It's painful.
Anyway here's a short fic for funzies
The air was a bitter cold, biting at his skin, whipping his hair around, clawing at his clothes, blowing it's cold winter frost up and down his arms.
Hylias sake, Twilight hated winter. He hated the cold, the thing where snow wasnt sticky enough and just made slush on the side of the road, he hated how the radio stations started playing Christmas music too early, he just hated all of it. If there was one upside it was that he had a excuse to stay in his house more days then not. Patrols were always shit though. Chasing criminals between alleyways, with the snow soaking through your shoe. Fucking horrible if you asked him. Sky of course, though winter was great. Thinking of hot chocolate and snowmen. Time however, the only other one in the facility Twilight ever talked to, agreed with him. Winter was overrated. Maybe Wild would have a new opinion on the matter. The kid probably liked the snow. Actually, knowing wild he was probably one of this kids who put rocks in snowball on purpose. Little sociopath. Twilight wouldn't trade his protege for the world, but being the number 3 hero and mentoring a illegal vigelate was- eventful to say the least. He continued thinking about inconsequential things, in a attempt to distract himself from the biting chill setting in his fingertips as he walked to his house. Abruptly, his train of thought was cut off as he was flung to the ground. His reflexes saved him from slamming his head on the concrete, but as good as his reflexes were, whoever had thrown him was better. In two swift movements, they were above him, crouched over him, and in the nest he was pinned to the ground, a boot digging harshly into his shoulder blade. He winced at the pain, trying to jerk out of his captors hold. But as as soon as they looked down at him he froze. She was gorgeous. That was his first coherent thought. She had dark russet eyes, complementing deep brown skin. Thick hair curled around itself twisting above him as she looked down with curiousity. "So your the one he sent me after?" her voice was tainted with disappointment. "Pity, i was expecting you to be a bit more-" a pause "competent." normally such words would have offended him, but as he was, he was trapped in the hypnotic vortex of those eyes, sparkling with a deep mischief. There was a prolonged silence as Twilight's deconstructed brain tried to form some semblance of any word. She shifted slightly uncomfortable with the tension in the air. "Well? Say something!" she demanded she paused with a slight chuckle at the man's awestruck face. "Or am i too beautiful that you've no words left?"
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deus-ex-mona · 2 years
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here’s to hoping for a ✨better✨ next week… _(:3 」∠)_
#really long rant about my ✨work woes✨ incoming— pls lemme have this moment before i cry at the interns on monday—#short summary of my utterly horrendous week go—#on monday: the machines kept taking turns to die (and that stupid self-restarting computer aaaaaaaaaaa—)#tuesday: the machines were horrible (again). and the final chapter of act 1 of the mona manga came out that night (which was much sad :( )#wednesday: was relocated to that acid-using station and got an acid burn on a really inconvenient part of my hand >:(#like yo. acid. why couldn’t you have landed on the back of my hand instead??#why did you *have* to splash onto the left side of the base of my left index finger?? i can’t even wrap a plaster around it and it sucks >:(#thursday: the machines were horrendous too! they refused to pass the daily quality checks!!! and there were tons of samples to load too!#as a bonus this lady kept hijacking the computer to check results or something while i was trying to enter stuff into the job queue thing#(the job queues for the stupid machines that is)#and so i could do absolutely ✨nothing✨ while she did her stuff… and then she complained that my workstation was really slow that day >:/#lady p l s. blame the machines!! and it’s only my literal second day at that station so— :( and you kept stealing control of the computer :(#and then there’s today. friday. (ʘ‿ʘ) the person who loaded the samples last night put said samples into the wrong slots of the machine…#…and so the dumb acid autofiller spewed out acid anyway. which spilled onto the machine and then evaporated (for the most part) overnight#and so! when i popped in to the workstation a good 10 min late (having overslept a little due to believing it was already saturday)…#i noticed the wrongly placed samples,smelled the really strong scent of acid,went ‘ah maybe the toluene reacted with the solvents’…#…and just carried on as per normal. it only clicked that those were acid fumes from the missed samples when my eyes started to water ಥ‿ಥ#and even then i ran off to find a coworker to ask ‘will the thing still autofill if there aren’t any beakers in the indicated slots’…#but ofc i couldn’t articulate properly bc i was ✨lightheaded✨ from the acid fumes. i felt really loopy for almost an hour after that tbh :(#and so i still have no idea how i’m still employed at this place tbh. all i do is blabber nonsensically and forget my coworkers’ names :/#but i think my terrible jokes have become a little more commonplace in the workplace. whoops.#i’d say ‘merry christmas’/‘happy new year’/‘happy birthday’ when i give printouts to others,and now they say it back to me lol#i stg my sense of humour is utterly horrible. no wonder why this higher up lady (probably) secretly dislikes me lol#like she’d say ‘i’ll train you in [test method]’ only to give like a half an hour overview before leaving me to fend for myself </3#on the other hand,she’d train and guide literally every other person for hours on end till they’re familiar with the test method :(#or maybe she thinks i’m too capable (lol). prolly not though. i usually stare confusedly at her like 👁👄👁 through her explanations#well. i think i’m done with my venting for now. see you tomorrow.#inedible blubbering
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imeminemp3 · 2 years
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just cried watching the scene where mike jumps off the cliff for dustin like where is THAT mike
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mejomonster · 2 months
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I feel distinctly like the universe is planning to shove me in a Particular direction. I dunno what exactly yet but i feel it looming
#rant#i dont believe in fate Or destiny (tho i love hearing other ppls opinions and why)#but occassionally. my life will really have a string of incidents SHOVING at me very insistently to go a certain direction#like when i got sick 3 years ago with gastroparesis and POTS. no matter how much u fight an illness...#it WILL make you stop overworking. or else u will die. thats it. 2 options. only 1 option you survive through#so i was forced to TAKE CARE OF MYSELF and rest more and force myself to overwork less#when i worked 60 hours my galbladder stopped working. to force me to stop overworking#when i was in engineering college full time w 30 hour a week job my brain gave me 5+ daily panic attacks so i#basically had to QUIT overworking in some way if i wanted any decent quality of life that could get the panic attacks to stop.#the universe totalled my fucking car twice in 2023 so inevitably i DID have to lose all my savings#no other choice. i needed a car for work and to go to doctors for chronic illness. i had to buy car.#and now i feel like the universe is slotting things to push me in a career direction. i have a peculiar feeling#like i may be forced to take on new responsibilities (ideally with more pay)#but like its gonna happen whether i choose it or not. its gonna just BE FORCED and#the universe wont give me the option of IF id like to develop those skills. instead it will REQUIRE me to#learn the skills if i intend to stay at the place i am#(so i sure hope it comes w more pay)#but yeah i feel the universe about to kick an Unavoidable Situation with no options except DO or quit soon#things are moving toward unavoidable i can see it in the distance
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stsgooo · 5 months
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Look at Him.
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✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.
warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k
pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader
a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3
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“So, what do you do for a living?”
"A teacher."
"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"
"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."
"Like a substitute teacher?"
"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."
"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."
You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.
Would you want to take this back to my—
There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.
You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.
Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.
You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.
Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.
Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.
A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.
You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.
You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.
Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.
You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.
You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.
You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.
Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.
You You asked for the divorce.
"Is everything okay?"
You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.
You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.
However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."
You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."
It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.
You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.
"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.
You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."
Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."
You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.
"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"
He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"
"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."
He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"
You sighed. "Please give me one moment."
With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.
Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (^▽^)
You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?
You Is there something you want?
Satoru him dead. and you home :((((
You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.
Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something
You For real?
Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]
Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.
It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.
If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.
"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."
Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"
"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"
"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"
He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."
He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.
Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)
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waitingonher · 4 months
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ELECTRIC TOUCH — [jason grace dating headcanons]
author's note: i need 2024 to be THE year. 2023 did me soooo dirty. im praying
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dating JASON GRACE would be like dating someone from a regency era romance novel…he’s just SUCH a hopeless romantic but he would rather die than admit it.
in the initial first few weeks of dating, jason was sosososooooo shy about pda/physical touch. it’s not that he was uncomfortable, he LOVES physical touch, but he had just gone so long without it that he wasn’t used to it. but eventually, he warms up to it…and now he can’t go without having at least one part of him touching you 😭 
when it came to things like hugs, kisses, handholding, etc. jason would always wait for you to initiate it because he was so anxious about making you uncomfortable ?? fjsldfjs 
but when you communicated that he didn’t need to ask/wait for you all the time, jason started initiating things more. even still, he occasionally gets nervous to even hold your hand? like wdym you’ve been dating for over six months and you still get nervous doing simple couple things 😭 it’s very endearing though 
chivalry is NOT dead,, and it’s because of jason LMAO. he’s the type to swap shoes with you even though you’re wearing heels that are 3x too small for him, but hey, at least your feet don’t hurt anymore!
jason’s also hellbent on carrying things for you, opening doors for you, pulling out/pushing in chairs for you, etc… GOD HE’S SO CUTE. 
since dating him, you don’t think you’ve ever touched a single door or car handle when he’s with you. 
jason is NOT afraid to advocate or stand up for you, especially if you’re more on the quiet & non-confrontational side. if you’re in a group setting and someone interrupts you, he’s making sure you get your chance to say what you wanted to say. and he doesn’t do it in a way that leaves you embarrassed, he’s very very classy with it! 
if you’re a big music person, jason will literally learn your favorite artist’s entire discography so you guys have another thing to talk about. 
you guys also have a shared playlist of “your songs” and he’s so serious about it 😭 if jason hears a song that even remotely reminds him of you, he’s going to the ends of the earth to figure out what it’s called. 
rip to anyone around him if shazam doesn’t work! he’s gonna send voice messages to your big group chat humming the tune, but he’s so tone deaf that no one knows the song…and his search history is just variations of “song that goes du du ooh du ooh du du ooh” a for effort though babes…
jason’s love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time. over the years and throughout the many battles he’s fought, he’s come to realize that all he wants to do when he comes home is just spend time with his loved ones. 
after a busy day, you’ll come home to find your laundry folded, bed sheets washed & freshly made, along with a sweet little note from jason <3 
your guys’ thing are writing notes to each other. considering his and your busy schedule, you’ll write and leave tiny notes around the house for each other to find. it’s one of the many reasons why jason gets up in the morning. 
he loves coming home to you after a long day to simply melt in your arms. there’s just something so soothing about cuddling with you after a busy day. 
it does not matter where you are, you guys could literally be cleaning the camp toilets and he’d still be able to find the fun in it. you’re his home, and he’d follow you wherever you go. 
if you play sports, you already know he’s showing up to ALL your games. it doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or if it’s hours away, he’s absolutely determined to show his support. jason even makes posters with your jersey number and when you have big tournaments he’ll show up with posters of your face 😭 the refs are SO tired of jason help
i feel like if he really tried, jason would be a good cook. 
one day you sent him a recipe you saw online saying you wanted to make it with him, but then he decided to make it himself to surprise you. and it was actually so good??? 
JASON IN A “KISS THE COOK” APRON OMFG. that’s what you got him for his birthday and every single time without fail, he’ll wear it when he’s cooking. 
one of his hidden talents is that he’s super good at origami. he originally picked it up because he heard it was a good stress reliever, but now he also does it for you <3 
he loves your reaction when he gives you little paper rings or an origami version of your favorite animal! 
this guy DREAMS of domesticity. he’s always been the type to date to marry, and that’s just what he intends to do with you! even though you guys are still young, he’s been planning your proposal sfjfls
tell me why he already knows what kind of ring he wants to get you… omg. 
he really wants to just settle down with you in new rome. but honestly, he’s willing to do anything as long as you’re at his side. 
expect flowers from jason at least once a month! he even keeps one flower so he knows when it’s time to get you a new bouquet. and if he’s away, he’ll get one of his friends to deliver it! 
i have this headcanon that the aphrodite cabin teams up with the hephaestus cabin to throw a really elaborate party, essentially like prom. anyways, jason would go all out for your promposal jfdsls i feel like he would either do a super funny poster/proposal like y’know that one guy who did that medieval promposal 😭 yeah well jason would do something like that but like...more roman... LMFAO him pulling up to your place in a chariot 
or he would do something super super intricate and planned out…like a fancy picnic and then he’d have the fauns arrange fireflies to spell out “prom?” when it’s dark out. 
ugh! jason grace the man that you are… <3 best bf ever,, i can confirm btw
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talkbycolor · 5 months
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john doe game headcanons . . . ↷
A/N; i'm actually really sensitive about john doe JHSAJHSAJAS
Pairing; "John Doe" x GN!Reader
CW; Just doe being the weirdo we love / PISSPISSPISS / implied cannibalism? not so much tho / ew stinky gay / sex with a hairball
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john doe as a partner.
His love for you is pure, but the lack of understanding in humans makes it complicated, he doesn't know how to express it in a "correct" way.
He has little interest in humans but all his interest in You, do you want to learn to play an instrument? Doe too, he would learn to use a phone to call you although it would be useless since in the end he would follow you to work, he can't stand having you away for even a second!
He tried to eat you (unfortunately not in a sexual way), he wanted to bite, pull your teeth, and tear them out of your cheeks to eat them, you had to use a lot of patience to explain to him that this was painful and you could die
He likes your fluids, your sweat smells so good, it tastes great, your tears, he knows that tears mean something is wrong but he can't help but want to lick them, at least he's like a puppy in that way and that will make you laugh, Doe wants to help! your urine, he will drink it all without a problem, if you are both having a loving session in bed and you want to go to the bathroom, forget it, he will open your legs and help empty your bladder, he loved being your personal toilet, your blood is the sweetest of his paradise, be careful with accidental cuts or his mouth will stick like a leech to your wound
Ideas for romantic activities will probably come from television, be careful what he watches
At this point, Doe lives by and for you, he will adapt to your lifestyle and tastes, although he cannot understand most of them, the idea of "breaking up" does not exist in his head, you can walk away, even stop talking to him and he will continue behind you
But he has feelings, why don't you talk to him anymore? Did he do something wrong? He no longer leaves rats in the kitchen, he no longer tries to make You dinners with raw meat, is that the way he looks? Tell him your standards! Doe will change everything for you, even reality
He can definitely purr, he's more like an old, ugly, stray cat that will rest on your lap, but he's YOUR, old, ugly, stray cat.
He doesn't know how to give compliments, it's more like observations or comments about how you make him feel "You're wearing a big hat!" "A red dress!", "I'm so happy to see you!" but it's adorable that he reminds you that you are his whole life…somehow
It's like having a child at home, in the strangest way possible, he will try to make horrible crafts for you and help with housework without much success.
If you demand sex, Doe would probably do his best to make a nice cock, just for you, or a pussy depending on what you like, he will be submissive but if you ask him to take control he will try
And that will probably be the messiest and hardest sex you've ever had in your life, Doe always adores you like it's your last day on earth so in a sexual sphere it would be ten times worse
If you put on a movie at night, he will fall asleep halfway through, no exceptions, the sound of the television and your smell will be enough
Doe would definitely kill for you, he doesn't understand jokes so please don't say "Ugh I hate that guy, I hope he's dead" because yes, the guy will be dead.
In case You doesn't like the smelly boy, Doe will try to take showers regularly, at least to not smell like something out of the sewer, the pain doesn't matter if it's about you
Loves physical contact and quality time
Surprisingly, Doe has a driver's license, he would be your personal chauffeur, you may think it's an adorable gesture but he just wants to be sure where you are at every hour of the day… and help, of course.
Aside from adoring you, Doe actually has his own tastes and hobbies, he HAS feelings! He has tried knitting since the technology is very confusing, he really is like an old man
He tries to have a good relationship with your friends and family, if you have a big family he will probably feel overwhelmed but that doesn't mean he will stop trying to show that he loves you and wants to be with you.
Your younger nephews love it, they think of Doe as a weird-looking uncle who lets them play with his hair
Doe shirt always has hearts when he looks at You.
962 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Text
𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Eddie asks you out on your very first date, indulging you in huge philly cheesesteaks, a vanilla milkshake (with two straws), a largely neglected bucket of popcorn, and a sugary first kiss. requested here. shy fem!reader, 3.2k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
I'm actually going to die here, you think morosely. 
This was a very bad idea on your part, and perhaps a worse one on his. What possessed Eddie —ripped jeaned, silver-chained, aspiring heavy metal rockstar Eddie— to ask you on a date? Perhaps you'd appeared more formidable outside of Hawkins library than you usually did.
You were in a particularly bad mood after a chilly fall afternoon spent checking the quality of the returns, and the prospect of walking home in the cold was a dismal one. You'd been glaring at nothing when a big, hulking bucket of a van slowed to a crawl beside you, thumping bass leaking from the closed window. It rolled down, the music quieting with it, and out came a head of inky dark curls. 
"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie said, pet name rolling around in his mouth, "you heading home? Do you want a ride? It's a long walk." 
Somewhere between the library and your driveway, Eddie asked you on a date. You genuinely can't remember what you talked about or how it happened, your adrenaline high enough you could've used it to climb Everest. You do remember the quiet way he'd asked, as though he was waiting for an impending rejection, and his smile bordering goofy when you breathed out, "Yeah, okay." 
You rub at the seam of your cream sweater over and over, the pad of your thumb numb. The wind runs through you, ruffling the skirt of your black dress against your thighs. I'm an idiot, you think. Hypothermia might kill you if your racing heart doesn't. 
Eddie holds a similar sentiment, "What the fuck are you doing out here?" 
You flinch embarrassingly hard. He wasn't there a moment ago. Eddie cusses and holds his hands out to you before you can slip backward off of the low brick wall you'd been waiting on, his fingers shooting tingles down into the epidermis of your skin like wild golden sparks where they grab you, hoisting you up into a more secure standing position. 
"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Like, really really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, just– it's like, minus ten out here? What are you doing?" 
"I–" You give him a more petrified look than you mean to. "You said to meet you here?" 
Does he not want you here? Was it a joke?
Eddie laughs out of the side of his mouth like he's holding a cigarette between his lips. "Well, yeah, but I meant inside. I've been waiting for you at the table." His amusement dissipates as he feels the chill emanating from your clothes. "Jesus, I'm sorry. Are you ready to come in?" 
Minus ten was dramatic. It's a solid 30 Fahrenheit, but the cold wind makes it feel colder. As soon as you enter the diner you're warm, heat nibbling at your fingers as the blood starts to pump. Eddie takes you to the side of the restaurant away from the noise of the games machines and the bathrooms, slipping into a booth where a worn paperback book is waiting. 
"I left that in case someone decided to steal our table." 
"What if they stole your book?" you ask, sliding into the booth seat opposite. 
"They'd love it," Eddie says. He leans forward with a mischievous air about him. "It's about a bullied teenage girl who loses her shit and gets psychic powers. I think she's gonna kill someone." He blinks. "Not that that's cool." 
"It's just a book, right? You're not a murderer."
You wonder why the fuck you'd say something like that, but he nods his agreement breezily. "Exactly." 
"Plus," you add, eager to say something he'll like, "it's hard not to root for the underdog." 
His smile twitches with an emotion you can't name. "Exactly," he says again. 
A waitress with thick rings of eyeliner comes to take your order. She has a sunny attitude, like Eddie in that way, an exterior some might say was intimidating and a bright smile. You're nervous from the get go and you have a cliche worry, watching Eddie interact with her from the corner of your eye. 
"For you?" she asks you. 
You stammer. What you'd thought about on the walk here this evening can be pinpointed into two simple lines of inquiry —what should you say to Eddie, and what should you say to the waitress. Shy to the point of aching, you'd rehearsed your order ten times, but all that comes out is hot air. 
"Um," you say, wishing you'd paid more attention to what Eddie said rather than how he looked at the waitress, "could I have, uh. Just the same? As he had, please." 
"Are you sure?" Eddie asks, nothing but patience in his tone. "Do you like pink lemonade?" 
You don't want anything carbonated tonight, nauseous enough. "Um, the same but with water instead, please." 
The waitress writes a short sentence with a big flourish. "Water," she reads, giving you and Eddie each a glowing smile. "No worries, I'll bring your drinks right out, food in twenty at most."
"Thank you," you and Eddie say together, in starkly different tones. 
Eddie waits for her to leave before he shucks off his jacket. He puts his elbows on the table and runs his knuckles up and down the length of the opposite forearm, smudging the whorls of his inky tattoos, the skinny silver chain around his wrist catching the light. "You know, I don't mind doing the talking, if you don't want to." 
You can't describe the embarrassment that bites at you, then. "It's– I'm sorry, I just couldn't think of what I wanted–" 
"I'm sorry," Eddie interrupts. "I should've told her to come back in a minute, I didn't give you chance to read the menu. I swear that's the only time I'll make a dick move tonight." 
You cough. He grimaces, teeth sinking into the pink of his bottom lip as he laughs it off. "Not like that. Or, not not like that. No dick moves," he says, "I just wanted to talk to you over a table rather than that pillar of a desk in the library." 
"It's a really tall desk." 
"It's so tall! I get that they want us to have somewhere to put the books but they have to go down to you guys anyways when you stamp 'em." 
"I don't know what the idea was behind them," you say. 
"Maybe they hired a bunch or very small librarians initially," Eddie says. He spies the waitress approaching with your drinks and leans back to accommodate her. He thanks her, but as soon as she leaves he's staring at your tap water with critical eyes. "It looks a little cloudy. You want my lemonade, instead?" 
"No, it's okay," you say, though drinking it feels like a bad idea. There's a whirlpool of scum at the top like clouds circling a mountain peak, ice cubes drifting in slow laps beneath. 
"I can take it back–" 
"Please don't," you say, "I'd be so embarrassed, it's only water." 
"I get you. Maybe I can get you something else, then. I'd say we should get hot cocoa but it's weird having hot cocoa with cheesesteaks." Eddie knocks the table. "I'm really sorry I asked you here." 
Your heart could be likened to a balloon popped by a sharp pin. You knew he'd regret asking you, knew it was too good to be true–
"We should've gone somewhere nice. Like Enzo's or Bullock's. Hey, we even could've gone into Indianapolis. And I have to say sorry double 'cos I should've asked you if I could give you a ride, I really messed it up." 
"It's not messed up," you say. "It's not." 
Eddie smiles at you, his most stripped back to date. 
Things are awkward and you theorise that it's your fault, but Eddie doesn't let you flounder in it. He asks questions, he says kind things. You have no choice but to relax and laugh at his ill-conceived jokes. You almost choke on your sub and he goes as far as to say, "Hey, you even make choking look good," having leapt up to pat your back. It's too much but it's weirdly nice at the same time. It's almost worth dying if it means Eddie's gonna rub your back with a big, unflinching hand. 
He wanders off when he's sure you're alive and you catastrophize: choking is far from attractive. He saw the way your nose wrinkled and your jaw went soft in your coughing and jumped ship. You dab the tears (from choking, though they could change at any moment) away with a napkin, sniffling. Your throat hurts and your sandwich doesn't look as appetising now. 
"Here," Eddie says, placing a tall glass in front of you grandly. 
"What is it?" you ask, though it could only be one thing. 
"Vanilla milkshake. Benny uses full fat cream, it's basically ice cream and nothing else. Is that okay?" 
You take a sip through a red and white striped straw without answering, the cold soothing your raw throat. A second straw stabs you in the cheek. 
"That ones for me," Eddie jokes. 
You swear you're gonna catch fire, putting the milkshake down with a thunk. "Oh," you say. 
"I'm kidding," he says. 
"No, I mean, if you want to share–" 
You're offering in the interest of being polite, but the look on Eddie's face reminds you of the more romantic connotations. "You sure?" he asks. 
You could say no. "Yeah. Of course." 
Between sips, you talk. Your conversation begins to feel like the unwinding a tight knot, unravelling defences you were unaware of, like a tapestry you never agreed to shaken out. Sure, you're shy, but you're interesting, and you have things to say. Eddie's eager to hear them; he won't stop pulling on the thread. 
Your throat tickles intermittently with scratchy pain. Eddie tucks a rather lustrous curl behind his ear, exposing a small stud earring and a hoop behind it. 
"I never noticed you have your ears pierced," you say, leaning forward to take another sip. 
Eddie pulls his straw from the glass to hit at yours teasingly, the slope of his eyebrows arching steeper. "Then you should look at me more often," he says. He stabs his straw into the glass and meets your eyes. To the outside observer, you're sure you look like partners getting gooey. "Notice anything else new?" 
Your pulse tangles in on itself, a snag in the thread. "Um, well…" You glance over his pale cheeks, their gentle caress of freckles. "You have freckles… and," —there, nestled between his lashes like a tiny dotted star— "a beauty mark under your eye." 
He doesn't smile, but some sweet softness plays in his eyes, his lashes kissing as they close ever so slightly. "You're prettier up close," he says quietly. "I didn't think you could get much prettier, but I've never been this close before, I guess." 
You take another sip to avoid further mortifying yourself with a stammering answer, but Eddie has a similar idea, leaning in. More awkward to pull apart, you share your drink and try not to bump his nose. The drink slurps and crackles as you finish it off together. Sitting back with twin smiles, awkward and flushed and not knowing what else to say, you fluster. There's a lot of stuff you want to ask him, but now he's finished his food and the milkshake is empty, you might not have time.
"Did you, like, wanna catch a movie or something?" Eddie asks, sounding for a second not quite as confident as he appears. 
You like metalhead Eddie, but you're starting to love this earnest version of him too. 
"Yeah, I'll see a movie with you," you say quickly. 
"Yeah? I know that's weird to plan more date in the middle of the date, I'm not trying to pressure you." 
"I've never been on a date before, so. This is setting the precedent." 
"The precedent," he says. "For future dates?" 
Is he hopeful? You open your mouth without thinking. "With you." 
His lips purse to one side, tamping down a big smile. Your cheeks hurt from how much you've smiled tonight. Is it always like this? Being with someone, dating, is it always unnervingly pleasant? You're eager to find out, and Eddie's eager to show you. 
"Let me go track down our waitress and we can probably get to the Hawk before the seven thirty," he says, clambering sideways out of the booth. 
You and Eddie are fifteen minutes late for a slasher movie, but you get there. Dark, two lone seats at the back are your only options, and you cram into them together with a frankly ridiculously huge bucket of popcorn to share. Eddie keeps whispering even when it's quiet and ticking off your rowmates, but he's being so sweet on you that you forget where you are. You forget to worry about what people are thinking. 
It's bliss. 
"Look at that," Eddie says, a handful of popcorn to his lips. "Ew, that's bloody. Shit, sweetheart, don't look at that." 
Sweetheart. "What do you think that is?" you whisper. 
"The fake blood? Isn't it pig's blood?"
"Is that legal?" 
Eddie almost drops the popcorn as something super gross happens, a silver flash and a spray of sticky orange movie blood coating the protagonist. "Holy fuck," he says, much too loudly as he puts the popcorn in your lap and covers your eyes. 
You laugh in surprise, "Woah, wait a second!" 
Someone shushes you loudly (and deservedly) from the row in front. 
"Sh, we're at the movies!" Eddie whisper-shouts. "Don't be inconsiderate." 
You peel his hand from your eyes. It doesn't drop entirely, long fingers slipping slowly down your cheek, turning your face to his. He's close, the nature of the small seats and your low conversation, his skin glowing with a red-pink and dappled white as the movie plays to your left. 
"Can I kiss you?" he whispers. 
On the walk to Benny's, your mind had drifted to the fantasy of a kiss. Eddie and his hands, the small silver bands of his rings and their heavier signets, how he'd offer to drive you home, walk you to your door, and peck you chastely in goodbye. He'd smell like his cologne that you tend to notice when he returns his borrowed books on Saturday mornings, chamomile and something deeper you've never been able to identify, no matter how long he stood there chatting. His lips would feel solid and cold from the weather, and here's where you stopped yourself from thinking any further, blood rushing to your wind-bitten cheeks. 
It's not so simply condensed, here. 
"I've never kissed anyone before," you whisper. 
"I'll have to set a good precedent, then," he says, rubbing the hollow of your under eye tenderly. "Or you can say no. That's okay, too."
You shake your head, "I want you to." 
The eagerness that's been simmering behind his eyes all night rears as he ducks in for a kiss. It's not what you're expecting, but it isn't bad; it's lots of things, his hand on your face and your elbow, your hands vying for him in startled delight, the popcorn between your knees tipping dangerously to the side as your lips give under his. 
He doesn't smell like chamomile at first, but hairspray. He presses against the seam of your lips and only as they part, forcing you to suck in a breath through your nose, do you smell it on him, close now. The cologne must linger on his shirt. 
He pulls away to shush you gently but urgently, Don't get us kicked out, it seems to say. 
And he's kissing you again. Nothing heavy, charged all the same, the barest taste of sweet popcorn shared between you. His hand does half the work, the tracing of his fingertips and the soft line they draw as he slots them behind your ear puttyifying you, like jelly in his warm palm. You make an unsure sound and he pulls away a second time, sugary brown eyes widened in concern.
"Bad?" he whispers. 
"Am I doing it right?" you ask. 
The concern becomes adoring. You feel like you've been injected with manic butterflies, having a guy like Eddie looking at you like that. "You're doing it super right," he says, so quietly you can barely hear him. "I'd tell you practise makes perfect 'cos I'm dying to do it again, but it was already perfect. You lying to me?" 
"No, of course I'm–" 
"I was kidding," he says, his side pressed heavily to the back of his chair as he drops his hand to your elbow casually.
"Oh. I knew that." 
He pats your arm, sympathetic, a tad condescending but he's hot enough to get away with it like this, lips kissed rosy and a glossy black curl falling into his eyes. 
You look down at his lips. Eddie doesn't make you beg, but he does gesture you forward, your hand landing atop his thigh as you angle up for another kiss. It's unlike you, but it's such a rush of feeling, you don't give your hokey-pokey brain time to consider the things you'd usually worry about. 
That being said, you pause just before your lips connect. You close your eyes too hard, head listing to the side self-consciously. 
Eddie must see it, whispering reassurances with a rough scratch, "Hey, it's okay. You can kiss me. You worry a lot for such a pretty girl, you know that?" He takes your hand. "Don't overthink it." 
"I can't," you say. 
"Take the night off. Let me worry…" His breath fans over your lips. "I'll take the lead," he suggests, closing the short gap between you. 
Your hand goes limp in his. 
The flowers are delivered to your desk sometime in the mid-afternoon. Pearly white lilies with green spots creeping toward the soft edges. Your chest yawns open and your lips curl into a smile like you've been hooked, rubbing a thick petal between your thumb and your forefinger. 
There's a long note folded and tied to one of the stems. 
Y/N, 
I am so, so sorry. So sorry. I am the sorriest boy who has ever lived, and I would love to make it up to you. Please call me when you get the flowers and tell me if they're a sufficient apology, or don't call me and I'll send you more. I know you said it was fine, but still.
Yours, Eddie Munson. 
P.S. did the flashlight guy have to be that mean? He pretty much blinded us with that thing. And did he have to make fun of my jacket? 
P.P.S I promise I will get you unbanned from the Hawk. Best date ever, yeah? 
You'll call him. Getting kicked out was a joint effort, after all, and you really want him to kiss you dizzy again, even if you found it hard to look at him on the drive home.
Maybe if he kisses you enough, you'll forget how it felt to be shepherded out of the movie theatre like a common criminal. 
You drop the note between the pages of your current read with a sigh. "Best date ever," you say. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed ♡ if you did, please considering reblogging, it means the world and makes a difference :D 
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0cta9on · 3 months
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Good Idea
length: 1.6k+ words
Genre: smut
Itzy Chaeryeong x Male Reader
(Author’s Note: Typing this on my phone was a hassle, so apologies if the quality isn’t that great. Enjoy anyways :) )
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
PLAYER TWO WINS
Your friend Chaeryeong throws her hands up to celebrate her victory while you slump deeper into the couch, the bitter sting of your 10th defeat in a row filling your mind.
“Get owned, los-“ Chaeryeong begins to taunt you, but stops as she notices your upset expression. She scoots closer to you, offering you an apologetic look. “Sorry, did I upset you?”
You lightly chuckle at her reaction and shake your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Chaeryeong.”
“Then what’s wrong, oppa?” She asks, looking up at you expectantly with her big, round eyes. You sigh as you recount the details of your failed date. A couple weeks ago, Chaeryeong recommended you to try a dating app after expressing to her that you wanted to meet someone new. She helped you set up your profile, and after a while of getting left on read, you finally managed to secure a date with a girl who you thought was cute and fun to talk to. Things were going great… Until your first date with her. Your lack of dating experience in the past few years turned you into an awkward, blubbering mess in front of her. It didn’t help that you decided to order the spiciest item on the menu that basically killed any chance you had of salvaging your date (and your taste buds).
Chaeryeong gently rubs your arm as you sink lower into the couch, accepting the fact that you’ll probably die alone.
“I’m sorry, oppa. Is there something I can do to cheer you up?”
“I don’t think there is.” You let out a deep sigh and stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. Maybe dying alone wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like you haven’t gotten used to being alone by now.
“Um…” Chaeryeong anxiously bites her lip as she turns to look at you. “Do you wanna try touching my boobs?”
Your head jerks up as your eyes widen in shock. “W-what did you just say?”
“I read somewhere on the internet that guys like touching boobs.” Her wide innocent eyes stare back at you without a single thought behind them. Chaeryeong had a habit of blurting out strange things, but this is by far the most insane thing she has ever said.
“I-I mean, you’re not wrong, b-but…” You were at a complete loss of words by her proposition, but you couldn’t help scan your eyes down her body. Her white ruffled tank top accentuated her breasts while also showcasing her tiny waist and sexy abs she achieved from years of being a dancer. Paired with her skin tight jeans that emphasized her curvy ass and thighs, you almost humored the idea of running your hands all over her body.
“W-why? Just why?” you ask, confused yet slightly turned on.
“Because you’re my friend and I don’t like seeing you so upset,” she responded with a pout on her lip and puppy dog eyes. It was practically impossible to say no to her whenever she made that face. With a sigh, you end up giving in.
“O-okay okay, fine. Just… You offered this, so no telling anyone I did anything weird, alright?” Beneath your apprehension, your heart was pounding with excitement. Not getting any action for years made you go feral at the simple thought of copping a feel.
A smile grows on Chaeryeong’s face as she giggles with elation. “Okay!” She sits on your lap, her ass pushing against your crotch. “Don’t be shy, oppa,” Chaeryeong teases as she grabs your wrists, placing your hands on her ample chest covered by her top. You instinctively squeeze her breasts, eliciting a cute moan from her lips. Almost instantly, your cock begins to strain in your pants, smushed against Chaeryeong’s ass, as your primal urges begin to take over.
“Looks like someone is excit- MMM!!” Chaeryeong’s words are interrupted by your mouth kissing on the supple skin of her neck. All of your inhibitions fade from your body, every action driven solely by hunger. You couldn’t deny how sexy your friend was as she succumbed to your every move. Each squeeze of her chest, each nibble of her ear, each lick on her neck turned her body into putty, completely malleable in your hands. This became evident in how you are able to lift her top without resistance, exposing her braless tits.
Chaeryeong’s mounds were absolutely perfect in your palms, soft yet firm and perfectly round. Paired with her toned abs, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to be able to rub your hands all over her amazing body.
“D-do you- ah! Do you feel b-better, o-oppa?” Chaeryeong asked in between moans. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her adorable innocence as if she wasn’t being completely violated by you.
“Yes, I feel a lot better. I want you to feel better too,” you whisper into her ear in a sultry tone as your hand traces down her torso, causing her body to shiver in response. Chaeryeong giggles at your touch, biting her lip as she looks at you with complete lust in her eyes. You slowly unbutton her jeans, making sure she was watching. Her beautiful chest begins to rise and fall with heavy, anticipatory breaths. The urge to completely ruin your best friend was ever present in your mind, but you wanted to take things slowly. Savor every second of this experience.
Chaeryeong, on the other hand, was growing steadily impatient. “Oppa~” she whined, pouting her lips at you.
“So needy,” you chuckle before grabbing her chin and kissing her lips. She immediately melts into the delicate kiss as your fingers play with the hem of her panties. Slowly, you inch your hand closer to her wetness, teasing her skin with each scrape of your fingernails. Chaeryeong lightly moans into your mouth, her body shivering with pleasure. You graze her clit, causing her body to jolt from the contact.
“O-oh my g-god…” she groans, giggling with delight. You grab Chaeryeong’s chin with your free hand, watching her expression change as you plunge your middle finger deep into her pussy. Her mouth gapes open as she lets out a deep guttural moan, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. With your libido at an all time high, your mouth latches onto her neck as you insert a second finger into her heat, plunging your digits in and out of her until your hand starts to cramp.
“F-f-f-f-fuckkk!!!” Chaeryeong’s squeals, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. The walls of her pussy squeezed against your fingers as she came, staining her pants and your hand with her nectar. Her body suddenly goes limp as the high from her orgasm leaves her breathless.
“You okay, Chaeryeong?” you ask, smirking at her.
“Y-yeah… I feel… amazing…” She lazily plants kisses on your cheek in gratitude. This experience was definitely unforgettable - but you weren’t done yet. At this point, it was impossible to ignore your raging hardon, especially when Chaeryeong’s ass was rubbing all over it.
Standing up, you gently lay her down on the couch. She watched you, biting her lip, as you stripped her of her jeans and her soaked panties, leaving her bottom half completely nude. Her fit body was glistening with sweat and her sweet juices.
“Please take me already, oppa. I’m all yours,” Chaeryeong said, winking at you with a naughty grin. Without hesitation, you strip your clothes off, leaving them in a messy pile on the other side of the room. Your heart pounded with anticipation and lust as you lined up your cock with your best friend’s wet hole.
Church bells ring in your head as you slowly insert the tip of your penis into her. Chaeryeong’s body was complete perfection, both inside and out. A wave of ecstasy flows through you as her walls squeeze your member. You lean forward, catching Chaeryeong’s tit in your mouth as you continue to push through. Her cute moans fill the room, music to your ears.
“Mmm!! F-fuck… so b-big, oppa…” Her words were confirmation enough for you to start thrusting your hips into her. You start nice and slow, taking out most of your cock before plunging it back inside her heat. The jiggle of her breasts as you fucked her was mesmerizing.
Suddenly, she grabbed your face, forcing you to look at her. “F-faster… p-please, oppa,” she pleads, her wide eyes practically begging you to ruin her. You smirk, planting a gentle kiss on her lips before grabbing her hips and pounding her cunt with your hard dick. The rest of the world faded around you as you went rampant with pleasure. Pressure began to build in your loins, a sign of your impending orgasm. With the last of your strength, you slammed Chaeryeong down onto your cock, forcing her to match the rhythm of your thrusts.
Sensing your orgasm, Chaeryeong wraps her legs around your waist. “C-cum inside me, oppa. I-It’s okay.” With one final thrust, you went over the edge. Chaeryeong’s sweet pussy milked your cock completely dry. You collapsed back onto the couch, drained of all your energy.
“H-holy fuck… that was incredible,” you commented as you caught your breath. Chaeryeong snuggled up against you, smiling.
“I’m glad I could make you feel better, oppa.”
You couldn’t help but pepper her cute face with kisses. “If you’re gonna do this every time I’m sad, then I should go on failed dates more often,” you joked, earning a chuckle from her.
“Orrrrr, you could just go on a successful date with me and fuck me anyways,” she suggested, giggling as she bit her lip.
“I think I like your idea better.” With one final kiss, the two of you doze off in each other’s arms.
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decolonize-the-left · 7 months
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Idk personally I think if your profits are so high in every category that the only way to make them higher is start subtracting from how much you pay workers and ending things like shared accounts accounts just to falsely Create new users then it's time to admit you did it.
That there's nothing left. Everything has been capitalized as much as it can be. You won capitalism.
Was it not enough?
Having more money than most of us can even imagine, more security and food, more access to healthcare and much higher quality healthcare at that? Being able to spit on the people beneath you or have the cops show up on demand when you call. All the power. Knowing you can buy politicians and set up your own fucked up chess game.
Having all that and asking for more. Trying to bleed what's already run dry.
How is it possible that these people are trying to find MORE to take?
How is it that everything is not enough?
What is their long game you know? Like there are people making those decisions at Amazon and Unilever and Nestle. To just die rich? Is that it? Have capitalists considered what happens when they reach the end of capitalist potential?
All this suffering just so they can die with some extra zeros in their account? A man made currency put in a digital space? Like let's be real her for a second: it's fucking fake. Money isn't anymore real than the tooth fairy.
And this is the best way for society to function? The earth?
Leeching off one another like parasites for made up currency until we kill each other over it?
None of us are even happy. People who like capitalism will never even be happy with it. Nothing will ever be enough.
How is this worth it? Why aren't we punching every rich asshole in the face?
Why do oil execs still feel comfortable leaving their houses? Jeff Bezos should be afraid of the public. The Waltons should exist strictly as recluses who then die in a fire. I want to see rich people desperately trying to give away their money because someone keeps spray painting "Rich Cunts Are Still Hollow" across their houses. I want the Kardashians and Carters to need a bodyguard detail taking the kids to school.
You know?
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