#but at least it's paying off for something

[callmecoke]

Thinking of the first time the 141 discover you on a website for Sugar Babies (P3)

cw: sexual content, reader sending nudes, mention of sex work (Sugar babies), NSFW Gender neutral reader

Thinking about the first time you sent more…risky photos to your mystery account of four men. For the first few months it was going really well for you. You were financially stable enough to

pay your tuition fees and your bills on time. You could finally treat yourself to things you couldn’t previously afford, and the boys love receiving little pictures of the things you buy yourself. Honestly, you were stable enough to quit this and apply for a “proper' Job, but there was a big part of you that didn’t want to leave this all behind. In a weird way, you grew very attached to these strangers on the other side of the world who paid you just to talk to them. They helped you during your toughest moments, even when they didn’t have to do anything. In a way, you were grateful for opening this account on a whim and meeting these little strangers.

And so, you considered maybe it was time to give them a little gift for all they've done for you.

You knew that a big part of this website was exchanging nudes and dirty pictures for money, but you had never really taken advantage of that specific service before. Infact, the men didn’t even seem to initiate anything sexual with you at all, and were perfectly happy just chatting with you and every now and then getting a cute selfie to tell you how gorgeous you looked. 

But because they weren’t going to ask for more, you decided you had to make that plunge yourself. You weren’t sure if you knew what you were doing. You didn’t go out to buy any expensive costume or underwear for the photo, just stripped down to your cheap everyday undergarments and…posed. Or at least tried to. There was an awkward phase of switching to random positions to try and find one that didn’t look too forced. You weren’t too sure if the photos you took were any good. In fact, your critical mind was telling you that they were horrific. You had picked the one photo that you considered to be ‘less bad’ than the rest and your finger was hovering over the send button as you considered giving in to embarrassment and turning around now. But, you swallowed the lump in your throat and clicked. All that was left for you to do is wait.

Switching to the 141s pov, There was some downtime after completing a rather difficult mission. John was sending a report to lasswell about the details of what went down, reporting back on the intel and the status of their target. Simon was in his corner, per usual, dulling his knife on a block of wood to carve it into shape. Kyle had found a spot on the floor he could lie down in without being disturbed, absolutely buggered after the whole ordeal. And then there was Soap…

The boys decided to rotate shifts on who gets the laptop per day. As of right now, Johnny had it open beside him while he patted dust and sand out of his shoes, not focusing on the screen until a little ‘Ding!’ noise signified you had sent something. He finally looked over and scrolled to your new message, his eyelids shooting open and his mouth hanging open as he releases a very audible “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” Suddenly he had the attention of all three other men in that room, heads turning in his direction as if a gunshot went off. Johnny rushed to close the laptop in a desperate, possessive attempt to keep his comrades leering eyes of your body. Simon tried to wrestle the laptop from Johnnys, as the latter told him in many colourful words to “fuck off and mind your own business.” 

Between the two tusling each other, Kyle getting up and manoeuvring to see what the fuss was about, and John attempting to break up the fight, the laptop slipped from Soaps hands and on to the floor in front of them, screen open and revealing the entire image to all four of them.

Any “Flaw” You had perceived in the photo was entirely nonexistent when it met their eyes. They stood and stared at the picture for what felt like hours, just admiring the form they had only seen in their imaginations. The soft curves of your uncovered chest, outlined by the stray light of the window making you look like an angel from heaven. Their eyes traced down your chest to your abdomen, down to your clothed core that you displayed with shyly spread legs to them. They didn’t even notice, nor care about the cheap piece of cotton; too enamoured by the outlined imprint of your sex against the fabric that they swore was calling their name.

On your side of the world, you were thinking yourself into a stupor as the little “seen” status appeared on screen but no one was saying anything. So much anxiety coursed through your veins that you had bitten your nails until there wasn’t much left of them. You wondered if maybe you made a mistake. Was it too far? Did you potentially ruin the few people who cared about your day and your only source of income? 

Just as the thought of deleting your account and getting a one-way ticket to another country out of embarrassment started to play at your mind, the laptop pinged. Messages popped up on your screen. Four, exactly.

“Jesus christ you are a proper sight to behold.” (Gaz)

“The things I’d do to those pretty fuckin’ thighs of yours if I got the chance…” (Soap)

“Fuckin’ Gorgoeus.” (ghost)

“You’ve caused quite a stir here, love. Never seen the boys this pent up before. Can’t say I blame them. You’ve got me a little stiff here as well.” (Price)

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris finds one of shy!reader’s books — it has some interesting paragraphs. requested by. @issysh3ll

chris isn't nosy—at least, not all the time.

he minds his own business and he whole-heartedly expects you to do the same exact thing for him. but now he's alone in your bedroom, boredom creeping in as he waits for you to finish your shower.

you mentioned something about wanting to freshen up, but he didn't really pay attention — he didn't really care.

but as he waits, his gaze drifts around your room, disinterested, until it lands on a book that peeks out from beneath your fluffy pillow.

he prods his cheek with his tongue as he grabs it, planning to toss it onto the bedside table. but he catches a glimpse at the cover, and his eyes narrow at the sight of a half-naked man pressed against a woman's body.

a little intrigued, he leans back against the pillow, flipping mindlessly through the pages. his expression immediately shifts from boredom to disbelief as he reads the explicit details and phrases, and a laugh of disbelief escapes him, followed by a smirk as he shakes his head and rubs at his jaw — completely engrossed in the content that he fails to notice you've just finished your shower.

"w-what are you doing?!" you blurt out, panic flooding your voice as you stand in the doorway, wrapped in a towel. your skin glistens, and your damp hair clings to you, but you can't focus on that. all you can think about is the book in chris' hands.

"you readin' all this, kid?" chris asks with a teasing tone. "a lil' bedtime erotica for the secret freak?"

"stop!" the word bursts from your lips, panic and embarrassment surging through you. you feel your face heat up, the warmth spreading down your neck as you nearly trip over your own feet rushing toward the bed.

one hand grips the towel tightly, desperately trying to keep it in place, with the other reaches for the book — but chris is too quick, holding it just out of reach, his smirk growing wider.

"d-don't look at that! put it away!" your heart races, and you can feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

"why? s'you can read it later?" he tilts his head to the side, his tongue wetting his bottom lip. "you touch yourself while you read this shit, kid?"

you cheeks burn hotter, and you feel utterly exposed. the embarrassment is overwhelming, and you're desperate to snatch the book from him, but he holds it high above his head, completely out of reach. in a moment of sheer panic, you climb onto him, your heart pounding as you try to grab the book.

"ain't this what she does in the book?" chris continues his relentless teasing, and you're completely mortified when his words sink in. "how did it go again? 'she straddles him, cagin' him between her thighs—'"

"stop!" you splutter, the humiliation overwhelming you until it feels like the walls are closing in, and you start to pray for the bed to swallow you whole and take you far away from this mortifying situation.

the towel around you feels like it's slipping, and your composure hangs by a thread. your breathing comes in laboured gasps as you frantically search for a way out of this mess — desperately trying to think of an excuse, even though you know there's no reason for that, especially with the book still in his hands.

"i kinda wanna try it, bun," he drawls, his words catching you completely off guard. you furrow your brows, blinking away the tears of humiliation pooling in your eyes as you stare at him in confusion. "wanna... wanna see what y'learned from this lil' book of yours."

you swallow thickly, his tone sending shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel exposed under his gaze as you whisper, "w-what do you mean?"

he leans back against the headboard, the smirk on his face deepening. "y'know exactly what i mean, bun... been readin' all this shit—gotta have learned a few things, yeah? c'mon... show me."

you're still seated on his lap moments later, but your towel is loosely draped around your hips and your cunt is stuffed full of his cock — light, airy moans escaping your lips as you roll your hips the same way the woman does in the book.

chris' hands slip beneath the towel, palms against your ass, guiding your movements as he grinds up against you, pushing himself deeper into your spongy walls. your head lolls back, gasping as you weakly bounce on his cock, the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your high-pitched moans.

"takin' my dick so fuckin' well, bun," chris hisses through clenched teeth. "learned a lot, yeah? keep goin'."

"m'trying!" you whimper, his cock brushing against the spot deep within that has you seeing stars, and your arms curl around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you drool. "s'too much!"

"too much," chris mocks you quietly with a scoff, a laugh leaving him as his hands gip your supple ass cheeks, helping you bounce on him harder while he thrusts up into you, relishing in the sound of your squeals in his ears. "always gotta do the work f'you, bun... supposed t'be showin' me what you learned."

"ah! ah!" squeaks leave your lips uncontrollably, your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest with each forceful thrust as he drives his cock deeper into your wet warmth.

the bed creaks beneath you as you muster up the strength to ride him again, bracing your hands on his chest as you lean up, bouncing your hips weakly in time with his thrusts.

"yeah... this what she taught you, bun? the woman in your book?" he grunts as his own hands roam up your spine, digging his fingers into your supple flesh, pulling you down onto him harder — filling and stretching you out completely, hitting all the right spots that have you faltering your movements.

beads of sweat trickle down chris' forehead as his darkened gaze watches you from below, his lips parted with heavy breathes. you whine at the sight, your back arching as your head falls back, the knot in your stomach letting you know how close you are to cumming.

however, you're surprised when chris' arms slip around you and he reaches up, his lips gently licking and nibbling at your nipple — a move you once read in the book and you gasp, the pleasure striking up your spine causing your body to tremble as you slump against him, your own arms tightening around his shoulders and threading your fingers through his hair, cumming around his cock with a cry.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[vulpes-nothus]

4F- a horror game where rolling dice is always bad

Requires:

At least two players, one of which is the Torturer

One six sided die per player, preferably dice that hate

Paper no one cares about

Set up

The Torturer concocts a horrible scenario, ideally one that can be staged in the following framework:

Nothing seems wrong, but it is

Danger surrounds and encloses

Danger seeks its prey

Danger toys with prey

Danger chases

Danger kills

The Torturer then selects a die in a bright, unfriendly color: the Escalation Die.

For a long scenario, set the Escalation Die with 1 facing up.

For a short scenario, set the Escalation Die with 2 facing up. Short scenarios are obviously horrible.

The other players, understanding the above to be true, make a character:

Name

Three things they are Good At. This must be specific without being pedantic; Fighting is Bad, Glock 17 is Bad, Shooting is Good.

Three things they are Bad At. Similar requirements as Good At; Talking is Bad, Hostage Negotiation is Bad, Convincing is Good.

Five Items. An Item must be easy to lift and carry in one hand. Containers can contain one specific thing; Backpack with Survival Gear is Bad, but Backpack with Food and Spare Magazine for Gun are both Good.

Write the four Fs- Fight, Flight, Fawn, Freeze.

Assign Chickens to the Fs as desired: 3 to one, 2 to two, 1 to one.

The Torturer describes the scene of their scenario, and each other player in turn describes a plan of action. From there, the Torturer decides if plans are Good, Bad, and/or Risky. The Torturer must keep in mind what characters are Good and Bad at when deciding. A character that is Bad At something makes any plan they make involving that something a bad plan, while a character that is Good At something must be reckless and stupid with that something to make it a bad plan.

A Good Plan with no risks succeeds. Always. No roll.

A Good Plan with some Risk requires a roll against the Escalation Die.

Beat the ED- success with no consequences.

Meet the ED- success with consequences. Player must choose: Loss or Escalation.

Less than ED- failure. Loss and Escalation.

A Bad Plan that might pay off requires a roll against the Escalation Die.

Beat the ED- success with consequences. Player must choose: Loss or Escalation.

Meet the ED- success at great cost. Loss and Escalation.

Less than ED- failure. Loss and Escalation.

A Bad Plan with no payoff always Escalates. Roll against the Escalation Die.

Beat the ED- Loss

Meet the ED- Loss for acting character and one other character of the Torturer's choice.

Less than ED- All characters suffer Loss.

When the Torturer calls for a roll, they also name the F that would cause the most damage to the plan.

Fight- smashing things and being aggressive will do more harm than good.

Flight- there is no escape, only getting cornered.

Fawn- pleading for mercy will garner none, and draw attention besides.

Freeze- staying still and in place leaves one in harms way.

If the character has a Chicken in that F, they may erase one Chicken to skip their turn instead, doing nothing until all other characters have resolved their plans. Otherwise, they are committed and must roll.

Escalation lets the Torturer roll the Escalation Die over to the next highest face, until 6 is showing.

Loss depends on the current face of the Escalation Die.

Nothing... yet. Roll a die, and write down the number. All Loss at that Escalation incurs another Loss for this character. This stacks.

Escape option.

Erase one Item.

Injury- erase one thing the character is Good At.

Severe Injury- the Torturer adds one more thing the character is Bad At.

Death- destroy the paper the character is written on, then cry about it.

The game is over when all characters are dead or the Torturer says it is.

(I give permission for this game to be archived)

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[rue-isabelle]

Aphrodite of Formula 1

Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.

She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.

---

Charles and Alexandra

Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.

Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.

Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”

Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.

Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”

“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.

Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.

Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.

---

Carlos and Rebecca

Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.

“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.

“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.

“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”

Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”

Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.

Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...

She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”

“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.

Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.

---

Max and Kelly

Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.

“Max,” Kelly said sharply.

He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”

“You’re staring at her again.”

Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”

“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”

Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”

Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”

Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.

Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.

---

Oscar and Lily

Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.

“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.

Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”

“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”

Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”

“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”

---

George and Carmen

Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.

“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.

George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”

Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)

“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”

“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.

George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.

---

Pierre and Kika

Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.

“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.

Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.

Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.

Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.

They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.

---

Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.

When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”

Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”

Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”

She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.

Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.

Part 2. Part 3

[gay-dorito-dust]

I gotchu pookie bear. What about showing Viktor a cute little gadget we made for him from using spare parts while he works?

You know those long distance touch bracelets for relationships/friends? Yeah them and those long distance touch lamps are what the stars are in this fic, touch them twice and the other star will receive said touch.

You were quiet -more quiet then usual at least- as you were hunched over your workbench in the lab and biting your bottom lip in concentration as you looked over the very thing that had been preoccupying your mind for the past few weeks, maybe a month? You weren’t quite sure to the passage of time as you spend countless nights burning the midnight oil, making sure the star shaped trinket basic functions were still working.

It wasn’t much in comparison to the gadgets Viktor had made that you could see scattered across the lab, one was always within your line of sight, each one of them holding a purpose higher then the one you were making; but yours wasn’t made to serve a higher purpose, just one where you could give to Viktor as a way to say thank you for everything and helping you find your passion for creating things.

Not only that but also by being kind and willing enough to teach you the basics of wielding, guiding your hands with his soft, knowledgeable voice and understanding that this wasn’t as easy to you as it was to him whenever you made a mistake. Viktor truly was a one of a kind person and you couldn’t help but be thankful to have met him and have him bless you life in more ways then one. So much so that it had lead to you to this very moment, the trinket you held within your hand was small, no bigger then the palm of your hand and all five of it’s points dug into your skin the tighter you held it.

You then relaxed your grip on it as you looked it over, making sure there was nothing you’ve left unchecked and even tapped the middle of the start twice, which emitted a soft blue light that throbbed like a heart beat, something that had caught Viktor’s eye as he raises a brow.

‘What you working on over there my dear?’ He asks intrigued of the sleek metal star that rested in your cautious hands.

‘Something that I’ve been working on for a while.’ You replied as you rubbed a hand against your eyes, trying to rub away the feeling of exhaustion from the lack of sleep you’ve had as a feeling of doubt began to grow within you, making you second guess enter you should show Viktor your work. However your need to show him that his guidance payed off outweighed the hesitance as you moved closer to him and showed him the gunmetal grey star.

‘I’ve noticed that you’ve been cooping yourself within the laboratory for a while,’ Viktor says as he remembers the times where he’s came into the lab, only to see that you were already there either working hard on your personal project, or fast asleep against your workbench in the most uncomfortable position. Viktor knew he couldn’t say much as he was very much the same with his own projects, but seeing you unable to keep your eyes open as it was obvious to him that you prioritised the project above your own health, why? He didn’t know but he wanted to see what was so important that you’d forget basic human needs. ‘Mind showing me what it does?’ He then asks.

You then wordlessly tapped the star twice and the soft blue glow came back, throbbing like a heart beat, twinkles of blue disperse like a ripple in a ocean or like blinking stars before fading back to gunmetal grey. ‘It’s something that I’ve made so that two people may communicate with one another.’ You said as you put the star in front of Viktor before pulling out a matching sleek gunmetal star trinket of your own, showing him how it also glowed the soft blue of his star, before tapping it twice with your finger as a soft red glow rippled across the surface of the star; responding back as Viktor’s star received it’s message.

‘Fascinating.’ Viktor says softly as he picks up the star you’ve given him, running his thumb across it as the blue glow followed in its wake, causing your star to have a matching blue streak dart across it’s surface like a shooting star. Viktor then looks at you with pride in his amber eyes, smiling softly. ‘This was what you were working so hard on? Such a unique creation birthed from the mind of an equally unique person.’

‘Well I did have an amazing person to teach me the basics of welding and help me discover a whole new way to show my thanks to him.’ You said as you shrugged your shoulders, tapping your star twice and watching as Viktor smiled softly as his star throbbed with a soft red light. ‘He taught me a lot and I wanted to make him something special to commentate it.’ You add and Viktor grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers as he squeezed it in reassurance.

‘It’s for me?’ Viktor asks.

You smiled. ‘For us really, to make sure the other hasn’t died by overworking themselves.’ You joked as you squeezed his hand back, happy to see him happy as he continues to admire the metal star and your efforts that went into making it. It made all those sleepless nights and gruelling days all the more worth it as he places the star next to his notebooks, within his immediate line of sight on his workbench. ‘We do share that common trait of pushing ourselves beyond our limits,’ Viktor chuckles before tapping the star twice, your star responding in kind nearby, ‘but I’ll be sure to use this should I think you’re unnecessarily staying overtime in the lab like you have been as of late.’ He adds as he gives you a playful but knowing look.

You raised your free hand in surrender while the other hand caressed the back of his. ‘I had to make sure they worked you can’t fault me for that surely and besides you’re no exception either mr hexcore. It’s as though you live and breathe the laboratory.’ You defended yourself and Viktor made a face that told you that he conceded, knowing that you were right, but still he wasn’t one to let you get away with such self destructive behaviours similar to his own. He feared that he might’ve rubbed off on you a little too much, but gazing back at the star made his heart warm at the thought of you working so hard on something for him and only him.

‘While I cannot fault you by any means, however that rule also applies to you as well.’ Viktor begins as he lets go of your hand and begins to tinker with his own little project, not like you didn’t mind as you always loved watching Viktor work, it relaxed it weirdly enough but you guessed that was all apart of Viktor’s due diligence to always keep his hands busy and working. ‘You’ve made something extraordinary my dear and I praise your mind and ability to make something to bring people together when they’re miles apart; truly an extraordinary thing that not even I could’ve thought of. You should be proud because I am.’ He finishes.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you smiled giddily to yourself at his praise. ‘I am proud and I’m glad to have made you proud too.’ You said softly.

‘You always make me proud regardless and will continue to make me proud tomorrow, the day after that and so on.’ Viktor reassures, his eyes never once looking away from his work but you knew the small smile gracing his lips were for you. ‘You never cease to amaze me as you shine brighter, like a star.’ He adds and all felt right in that moment as a comfortable silence befell you both as you just existed within the company of the other in harmony.

…

However all that felt like a far away dream now as you sat in the very lab that once warmed you, now leaving you cold and more alone then ever. Viktor’s gadgets looked upon you form their shelves as you attempted to make yourself small within your old chair, metal star in hand as you tapped it twice, watching with lifeless eyes as the star throbbed a soft red light and waited.

And waited.

And waited even more for a response, for a reaction, anything to prove that what you had witnessed was a lie and a horrible dream that you’ll wake up from. Nothing came back to you, the soft blue light didn’t respond to your call and you were left staring at the metal star -that looks about as hopeless as you- before you dropped it to the floor while burning your head into your knees as you silently sobbed into the fabric of your jeans.

Viktor was gone. He had been for a long while and you -in a fit of denial- didn’t want to admit to yourself that you had lost the most amazing, brilliant, most beautiful man you’ve ever met in your entire life. He was a once in a lifetime, the brightest star in the sky that you looked towards for guidance and reassurance but he’s gone now.

You were left alone with everything that he’s ever touched, which all looked lifeless now that he was gone, never to touch a wielding tool ever again. You closed your eyes tighter, completely ignoring the star on the floor as it throbbed twice with a soft blue light, arcane runes scattering across its surface; assumably letting you know that someone was there to respond, even miles away from you.

[euthymiya]

part one ; office mate! gojo ; company heir! gojo ; female intern! reader ; fluff ; pre getting together

Satoru is good at getting things he wants. It’s not because he’s spoiled (although he’s that, too) but rather, it’s because he’s persistent. Annoyingly so. Persistent in that way where he doesn’t necessarily earn what he wants, but scores it just because the other party is tired enough to cave for the sake of some peace.

Case example: you.

You sit across from him as he happily sips on his excessively expensive coffee from all the extra syrups.

“How can you have that much sugar?” You cringe.

He raises an amused brow as he hums, “Because I don’t choose to be miserable. You should try it sometime.”

Glaring, you roll your eyes before taking a sip of your own coffee. Satoru is at least nice and chivalrous enough to pay for your coffee—although, knowing what you do now, it’s not exactly as though he can’t afford it. You’re pretty sure being the heir to the company you intern for means he’s loaded in enough money that a simple iced coffee isn’t too much of a dent in his pockets.

You give him an unimpressed frown before getting to the heart of the matter. “Why didn’t you tell me your dad owns the company?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” you hiss, “I’ve been passive aggressively calling you a lazy asshole for two months!”

“Do you change your mind about that?” He asks infuriatingly calmly.

“No,” you admit. You take a long look at him before nodding in confirmation as you repeat, “No, I don’t.”

He pouts a little at that, still cute and aggravating at the same time. “Hey,” he says, only a little wounded and a whole lot excessively dramatic. You can tell he didn’t get a lot of attention growing up with the way he pulls theatrics. Something about the psychology of unmet emotional needs as a child from your one semester of psych in college comes back. “You don’t have to say it so condescendingly.”

“Well, you are lazy,” you point out. He shrugs because…well, it’s a fair point. “But now I know why.”

“So what, if you knew my old man was our big boss, you’d be nicer to me? Is that it?”

You crinkle your nose and give him a look of disbelief. “No,” you say—it’s almost amused. The first ounce of humor you’ve shown around him at all. “But I wouldn’t have wasted my energy caring that you’re a deadweight in the office.”

“Ouch,” he pouts, “I bought the coffee machine on our floor!”

“It’s getting rather faulty,” you hum, “You should consider investing in another one for us.”

Satoru likes that about you. You’re interesting. Interesting not because you’re exceptionally smart or all that impressive—not that you’re bad by any means. Being accepted as an intern here must mean your resume has a degree of prestige to it, but you’re just like any other person in the building. Except, instead of shrugging off his bratty, obnoxious self, you seem to care a great deal about what he does.

It greatly amuses him enough that you’ve sparked his interest.

“You’re fun,” he chuckles, “I like you. You’re not boring.”

“Just what every woman wants to hear,” you bat your lashes, sarcastically giving him a dreamy sigh, “Not boring. How charming of you.”

He grins wider, and something in your heart does a little bit of a clench. It’s so…pretty. Everything about him is pretty. The clean, pristine button down with perfectly ironed pants. The soft, messy hair that somehow adds to his expensive look rather than take away. Those bright, piercing blue eyes that feel like you’re lost in infinity when you look into them.

He’s pretty. Pretty annoying, too—but pretty all the same.

“I’m working on it,” he murmurs.

“What? Your manners?” You snort.

“My charm,” he corrects.

“We might be here for quite some time then,” you tease. You don’t know what it is. Falling into a bantering back and forth with him is so easy—so amusing and, if you’re honest, a tiny bit exciting.

Maybe a background of wealth and fortune makes a man appealing like that. Or maybe he’s just likable. You’re not sure yet.

“You’re saying you’ll be here waiting for me to get there?” He raises a brow, winking as he adds, “So maybe you’re charmed after all.”

“That’s a stretch,” you pretend to scoff. Nevermind the hardly hidden smile on your face—that means nothing. “I just want to watch you fail, that’s all.”

“And if I succeed?” He challenges, looking at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes, deciding to indulge him in whatever petty games he has going on. “In what, being charming?”

“Yes,” he nods, “What if I succeed in being an irresistible dreamboat of an office neighbor?”

“I doubt that’ll happen,” you bite your lip in an attempt to fight back a large, dimpled grin. It’s funny, you think—just up until a few hours ago, all he ever managed to do was pull your lips into a scowl. Now, it feels like it’s impossible not to stretch them into a smile. “But, if it does, I suppose I’ll eat my own words.”

“No,” Satoru shakes his head, lips curled into a serious, unsatisfied frown, “No that simply won’t do. I need better than that.”

“Okay,” you finally laugh. It’s radiant. It comes from your belly and vibrates through your chest. He’s somehow good at it—just one coffee grab during your lunch break, and he’s already managed to earn the sound of your joy so easily. Something about that tickles a weird, unfamiliar spot under your ribcage. “Lay out your terms.”

“You have to be my girlfriend if I manage to make your eyes turn into hearts over my handsomely unbeatable appeal.”

It’s cheeky, his grin. Wide, confident, and still boyishly hopeful. You start to wonder why you ever disliked such an easy to fall for smile.

“That’s pretty bold,” you note.

“I’m bold about the things I want.” You pretend that those words don’t make your heart do a helpless flutter.

“Okay,” you nod, agreeing as you take a final sip of your coffee and hand him the empty cup, “I’ll agree to these unlikely terms. You can start by bringing me another coffee.”

“You got it, boss,” he salutes before doing a giddy little jog to the counter and ordering you another coffee. It’s cute. It has your heart in a scarily fast chokehold.

Somewhere in the heat of the moment, as you watch him fumble over his wallet and almost drop his card while he goes to pay, you think he may have already won the terms to this ridiculous agreement.

But you won’t tell him that, you think. Just to drag out the eager, hopeful look in his eyes that dart over at you and shoot you a sly wink.

———————————

here is part two as promised for @enyathedrakaina bc they sent me cat pics

[sinsinewave]

i think i posted about it before but this kid is going places if those art skills are allowed and encouraged to develop

like, the reason that looks so good is largely because of composition and colour

the background colours are such that they don't draw attention to themselves, not unnecessarily standing out, just kind of fading into the... background

the specific colours also neatly contrast the meowlk's clean white without being oversaturated and forceful, and the light, warm tones imply the idea of a safe and cozy environment; like a family home

---

as for compositing, the meowlk itself is positioned off-centre and off the focal point, which enhances the feel of mundanity and makes it feel more like just a normal object

that in turn sort of lets it speak on its own terms; the meowlk doesn't demand your attention like a screaming child, it exists there, letting the viewer's attention more naturally focus on it

---

i can also tell that a lot of that is most likely intuition, which is why i think this kid has potential to grow up a really damn good artist

basically, a subconscious, internalised understanding of composition and/or colours, making it so that you compose a scene in a certain way or choose certain colours because it just feels right, rather than by actively applying theory

that tends to lead to more genuine-feeling results than raw theory; letting the artist focus on expressing themselves rather than the framework on which to express themselves

the same intuition can be seen in a variety of fields; for example i have great spatial awareness and due to that do well at 3D modeling, while my mother (a painter and portrait artist) seems to have an intuition for contrasts and shades, at least from what i can see, and musicians often have it for harmonious sounds and melodies

and this kid seems to have it for colours and composition, along with a good imagination, as i said

---

and before anyone says anything about talent, this is the closest there is; and that intuition can be learned

some have it more naturally without much practice, but like, if you genuinely want to do art, you'll develop it over time; while it's developing things just won't be nearly as effortless, and a lot of people give up from that

for example, if while learning art skills you have to figure out colours regularly, your brain will slowly rewire itself to do that automatically

---

to get into a bit of psychological speculation there, because my view on the nature/nurture debate tends to lean towards nurture, i'd imagine having that intuition naturally is a result of what the subconscious mind pays attention to during development for whatever reason, be it genetic or something else

using my own intuition for 3D awareness as an example, i know for basically a fact that my (or, well, former host's) mind focused a lot on spatial thinking; partly as a result of being really into lego, but also just kinda naturally; and the memories i've recovered of that time include remarkable amounts of spatial data specifically

and then years later i end up being good at modeling because my brain is already pre-wired to handle spatial thinking

in this kid's case, i'd imagine for whatever reason their subconscious mind has focused on layouts and colours, which translates to the composition of that genuinely really goddess damned good artwork

[lichenes]

Hi, could you do a young silco x nb! reader where they have been friends for years and have been pinning HARD on each other, and one of them(your choice idk who) over hears the other talking about how they feel, and basically, they are kinda forced into confessing...that kinda leads to smut with feelings..pleasethankyouso

Silco falls to his knees for you in this one btw. Just so you know. Tried to write the smut as gn as possible!! CW: vanilla sex?? nothing wild ig, no reader genitals mentioned, gn!reader, silco and reader being oblivious wc: 838 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

You stretched your body walking into the bar part of The Last Drop. “Morning.” You said to Vander who was preparing the bar for opening. “It ain’t quite morning anymore, luv.” You looked at the clock which displayed 7:30pm on the dot. “I couldn’t sleep all night...” You said still blinking back sleep from your eyes.

“Your shift starts in half an hour, by the way.” Said Silco appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “Clients don’t show up until like 10, relax.” You mused, a bit startled by his sudden presence, nevertheless happy he was there.  

You were dressed in your usual work clothing, nothing special, just a pair of slacks, a loosely fitted dress shirt and an apron meant to keep the uniform at least partially clean. You were wiping down the tables before more of the guests arrived, final touches as Vander liked to call it. You were the only person serving food and cleaning tonight so you had your hands full. 

Silco felt cornered. Mesmerised - he was mesmerised by you. Sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of whatever was cheapest, he purposefully ignored you. Were he to pay you any mind, he would go insane. Not an hour ago did he overhear you confessing your infatuation with him to your coworker.

“Okay, who is it then?” Said the newest addition to the staff. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop… truly, he was just about to ask you something menial when he heard his name being spoken. It rolled off your tongue with such adoration when you were sure he wasn’t listening. “I’ve got my eye on Vander…” Commented the girl. 

“Not my type.” Silcos heart beat faster. “You fancy Silco?” You hummed affirmatively, creating a memory for him, he was sure he’d never forget.

Vander waved his hand in front of Silco’s face, waking him up from the daydream. “You alright?” Silco’s face didn’t give away the whirlwind of emotions he was going through right in this moment. Although, he had slightly more colour in his face. “Yeah- listen.” He beckoned him closer. The bar, despite being quite loud, didn't offer enough privacy to say such things at full volume. 

“They said they fancy me.” Vander looked at him in disbelief. He then chuckled. “What, like you didn’t know?” Silco’s face went pale. He grabbed the bar’s edge. “Mate, everyone in the undercity knows this. The whole, you know, back and forth you lot have going on.”

Silco stood up. He was a calculated man. His actions were meticulous. Years of yearning. Months of planning a confession and that’s how he finds out the love of his life actually reciprocates his feelings!? He wasn’t following a script or a plan. “I need to find them. Now.”

You were taking your break in the back when Silco burst through the door. You smiled at him and just when you were about to greet him he closed the door and ran up to you. “Silco?” You questioned his erratic behaviour.

“...for years, and it feels like he doesn’t notice it!” 

He smashed his lips into your own ones cradling both your cheeks as he lowered himself to the floor, finishing his descent on his knees. You reciprocated the kiss, craning your head down so that he could stay close to you. 

You enjoyed the moment as much as you could, afraid it was to flee as soon as you separated. 

When you did, you put your foreheads together. Laughing slightly you looked at him and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Took you long enough.” He then felt it, the hunger he suppressed for so many years. He dove back in, greedier than before. You moaned in surprise but welcomed it nevertheless. 

You battled for dominance for a moment, in the end he won. There never was questioning it. “I need you.” You managed to get out.

“I’ll make you need me even more.” 

You were resting your back on the door of the room which was locked to prevent people from interrupting your tryst. Silco had one of your legs propped on his hip, holding onto the neighbouring cabinet was the other thing keeping you upright. 

He was thrusting into you with vigour that was making you go cross eyed. Your arms around his neck were only adding to the experience, you needed him closer, right here - right now is all that counted. 

You saw white when he put his cold hands onto your most sensitive spot. A few circles is what got you to the edge and his blissed out words spilling from his lips - ‘come for me’ - for me. You’d do anything for him at this moment. 

And so you followed his instruction, causing his own orgasm after your own. He put his head on your shoulder when you both were basking in the afterglow. You brushed his bangs out of his face. His eyes were twinkling. 

“Tell Vander he needs to find a replacement for you tonight, I need you all to myself.” 

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. SILVAIR .ᐟ

Mix of other + our world headcanons (Italics is in the other world’s language!)

For the anon who requested! Vry glad you liked Mr. Crawling’s, thanks for the trust w Silvair :D Feel like I see him a lot.. nicer..? than most hcs I’ve seen and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for mebjfhdsfhjd

(seen in ending 3) Mr. Silvair loves studying and learning about you, but he still feels bad if you seem upset or get hurt. If or when he doesn’t understand why you’re upset, he’ll ask what he did and apologize. He values learning about these differences in emotions, communication, perspective, etc.

He isn’t naturally physically affectionate, but he doesn’t refuse your requests or affection! He at least pats your head or back, not letting go until you do (unless he’s got things to do). Initially confused, he admits it feels nice when you hug him and that he’s started looking forward to (or at least expecting) it.

^ You can ask him for a forehead kiss or two, even if he doesn’t get why. He understands that it makes you happy and it isn’t like it’s doing him any harm anyway!  You’ll probably have to show him what a kiss is though. Will he find it amusing if you become flustered kissing him first? Say “Cute”? Probably.

You and Mr. Chopped become close friends too, sometimes (playfully) gossiping to each other about Mr. Silvair while he’s off doing experiments. There’s a few times Mr. Silvair seems to get jealous by the amount of time you guys spend together, especially if he catches you laughing at Mr. Chopped’s antics. He takes initiative and tries to have one-on-one time with you after that.

Maybe he does tie his hair back and we don’t know it, but I think he’d appreciate the idea if you brought it up! Sometimes it’s a half-up look, a simple ponytail, or you braid it back if you want. As long as it’s out of his face and not difficult to take out, he doesn’t mind.

If you enjoy/are comfortable with it, he might ask for your help with experiments, or… you? Your blood sometimes, at least. But he respects you if you’d rather stay away, even if he’s disappointed for a while.

Both of you spend quite a bit of time walking and talking while trying to find a new room when need be. You start to teach him your language, and he uses a few words and phrases when possible.

Mr. Silvair is more focused on experiments rather than interior decoration. But whether you ask to decorate his place in the other world or show him your home in ours, he grows a fondness for your taste. He even brings home things that remind him of you to see if you'll enjoy them.

^ In the same branch, if you bring something you think he’ll like, he takes good care of it, making sure its always somewhere safe!

Of course, he can’t really do the same studies in our world, or at least get his subjects in the same way. Be warned that he may or may not want to go out and find test subjects… somewhere…?

But on the bright side, it’s literally a whole new world! With so much available to him, at least he has other ways to learn than capturing and cutting things or people up.

Mr. Silvair as a good cook / kitchen helper? Really good at cutting up food, even if he doesn’t want to eat it.

In general he’s pretty good around the house! He remembers chores and keeps his space tidy for both your sakes, helping out wherever he can.

His hair is already pretty, but imagine how nice it’d look and feel after a shower! You keep running your fingers through his hair and he tilts his head. “You like? Pretty?” You nod and ask “Me pretty?” and Mr. Silvair smiles. “Pretty.” (Subconsciously, he starts paying closer attention to your hair or appearance, and how you take care of yourself.)

^ He isn’t particular about scents (other than preferring subtler ones) and will likely use whatever you use unless asked otherwise. Don’t expect him to pick up a hair or skincare routine though.

The first few days especially, Mr. Silvair is so focused on seeing and learning as much as possible, that he’ll likely be up late. He doesn’t really get the whole day and night thing, so you have to tell him that rest is good, and that you’re worried for him. “You worried?” “Yes. We rest.” “...Okay.”

His understanding of love is still different from yours, but (I think) he does care about you, and loves you in his own way! He makes sure you’re safe, helps you when you’re injured, and enjoys spending time with you. I’m not sure if he’d say “I love you” (since he doesn’t comprehend what that really means) but he’d at least reassure you that he likes you and finds you interesting :3

^ Though I’ll say if you’re a romance genre fan in our world, he picks up on the usage of “I love you” in media and if it matches his emotions, he might try it out and see how you react

[leam1983]

As a Canadian, and as someone living in a country that has a UBI framework, I think a lot of people misunderstand just how basic Universal Basic Income is.

TL;DR: I agree on principle, but identifying greed as a problem doesn't solve deeper systemic issues.

I see some armchair social theorists on here say that UBI is enough to fight more pressing social battles; that it empowers you to demand better rights as a worker, as a citizen. I've been on UBI and, well - no. UBI is enough to allow you to survive. If you want to invest in a project, if there's a worthwhile cause you want to get involved in that requires some involvement or some capital injection (even something as simple as buying supplies to fashion picketing signs) - that's on you. In Canada, UBI is calculated based on median income, which means that it isn't enough to kickstart some people's Post-Work-Era Roddenberry-Powered Magical Socialism where nobody works and everyone contributes out of sheer passion and drive.

UBI is there so you can survive, and so you can eventually have the resources and skillsets needed to contribute to Society without UBI lining your pockets. More importantly, UBI is there to ensure that there are no "bad jobs" to speak of, because even the fast food joint's janitor who's on Minimum Wage starts with better conditions than a UBI beneficiary. In Canada, a kid with no diploma who makes a living manning a Tim Hortons' cash register doesn't have to fight with the system to obtain credits related to his living conditions. The real problem has three prongs:

Welfare kings and queens who make it harder for legitimate demands of financial assistance to go through;

The corporate world that's forgotten that the very first rung past UBI needs to be 100% livable and needs to allow for at least some measure of savings to be something that can be planned for. UBI should facilitate survival, what happens when even minimum wage doesn't allow you to live right?

Slum lords who buy off properties initially set aside for Affordable Housing programs and who drive market values so far high that entry-level workers have to settle with living several hours away from their place of work.

But Sweden and Norway - Hold it. Sweden and Norway are filthy fucking rich. Sweden and Norway are Petrostates. Canada? Not so much. Year after year sees Affordable Living programs or revisions to UBI being floated that would turn it from a lifeline to an actually workable form of remuneration, but year after year sees my local politicians butt their heads against the fact that any kind of serious Social Security net can't just pay for itself; and Canadians are already sadly renowned for living in a country choked by taxes - all because our already-present pro-Social infrastructure is complex, inefficient and sadly vital for most low-income residents.

Imagine how insane implementing it would be on a per-State level, on the American side. Imagine the work that needs to be done; not just in terms of greater education, but also in the sense that there's an entire infrastructure you guys never put in place. Some of my colleagues are American expats, and their first big shock came in the form of their first tax bill on Canadian soil. Free healthcare isn't free, the load is just spread across the country's residents. It also means that UBI and Free Healthcare programs can only cover so much, seeing as even if you put the load primarily on those above a certain income level, those below it are still going to feel the pinch. God knows I do, every tax season, and even if it's for a fundamentally good cause.

So. Beyond harping that UBI is a basic right and that we all deserve to rest, ask yourself how wealthy your State is, first. Try and model the kind of help you'd be getting. Try projecting it as a deferred hit on your salary or your savings - one that you need to account for year after year, forever.

The social model where none of us work and all of us effectively play with shelter and rest being in-built facets of our social contract would require a total upheaval of our current system - and something tells me most people wouldn't like the transitional period between the two. Would people really maintain power stations or work hospitals just because it's the right thing to do?

Call me cynical, but I've been alive long enough to really, really, seriously doubt that logic. Sooner or later, someone's going to want to look out for Number One. The USSR fell for that very reason, and my own country's very pro-Social policies are rife with examples of what happens when someone with good intentions gets unfettered access to a chequebook, supposedly for the good of all. Remuneration is a great control system, in that respect, especially when we know that in an Egalitarian system, there's always going to be one or two chucklefucks who think they're more Egalitarian than the rest.

Greed is in all of us; the only thing that keeps you or me honest is our lack of power. Money, as they say, is the root of all Evil. Remove money from the equation and something else will take its place. Social status, most likely.

Then let's make all of us equal! Communism FTW!

you're likely American if you're reading this, how do you think most people will react to that kind of assertion?

even in an ideal system, the Overseer would have more power. That, right there, is enough of an imbalance for unfair treatment to surface.

Again, we've seen what happened with Soviet Russia, and I'm not saying this to be a bootlicker. Open a history book: Lenin barely managed to approximate Marx's idea of an Egalitarian state and Stalin identified the cracks in the system and pushed them wide open, priming it for collapse.

UBI needs to happen. via antiwork

[apomaro-mellow]

The government gets kas!eddie 2

Part 1

Of course, the first thing Steve did was call the others to tell them what had just happened. Nancy, Dustin, and Lucas were the first on the scene and they all craned their heads up to see the ascending claw marks on the back of his house.

"What do you make of it?", Lucas asked.

"Could be a demogorgon", Dustin said.

Nancy shook her head. "These claw marks are different. You said you heard it coming?", she asked Steve.

"I heard it climb up and then, it like cried. It sounded like it was hurt. Then a bunch of lab guys were here and it was like they were hiding something."

"When are they NOT hiding something?", Lucas crossed his arms.

"Are your folks still out of town?", Dustin asked.

"Yeah", Steve answered. The portals had closed but not before massive cracks let through several demobeasts, which was why the government came in and put the whole town on quarantine. No one in or out. Steve got a call from his parents telling him they were at a hotel in the next town over but that they weren't being allowed back in. All for the best. Two less people for him to worry about and lose.

"Were you having a party last night or something?", Lucas asked next.

Steve's brow furrowed. "What? What party? What's there to celebrate?"

Nancy shook her head. "He means, why was this thing, whatever it is, coming for you? If you were asleep, then how did you get its attention?"

Steve scratched his head. Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One was still out there and unaccounted for. Maybe he was finally coming for revenge?

------------------------------

The sedation wore off the moment they got Eddie Munson in a cage and immediately he was clawing at the walls of reinforced concrete. He screeched and tried to roar but with the muzzle on his mouth he wasn't able to open his mouth completely. There had been pain then darkness then clarity, a goal, and then pain and darkness again and now he was awake but even further from his mate than before.

He was unaware that he was being watched right now. There was a heated debate behind the cameras. Who should they bring in? Who should they tell? Should they tell anyone when they didn't even know what this transformation entailed. Names were brought up only to be scoffed at. Children. They'd gotten lucky in the past but they weren't going to keep relying on children. No, if they contacted any civilians about...this, then it had to be next of kin, no?

Wayne Munson was brought in days later when the team decided they should at least keep the creature formerly known as Eddie alive and the damn thing wasn't eating the raw meat that had been thrown into its cell.

Wayne thought his heart couldn't break anymore than it already was. But seeing what his nephew had become. Claws and a tail and wings, it looked like the sort of creature Eddie would have come up with for his game. But this wasn't imaginary. His boy had been turned into a mindless, bloodthirsty-

"You said-", Wayne sniffed the tears away. "You said he ain't been eatin'?" He could see the chunks of meat on the floor through the camera.

"Our files say these creatures will eat raw ground meat if human flesh isn't available", one of the scientists said.

"Yeah that same intel said they eat candy too", another added.

"Kids", someone scoffed.

Wayne took a breath and found a pen and paper. "Send someone grocery shopping for this stuff. And we need to clean up that cell, that's no way for my boy to live."

-------------------

Steve had been face to face with Wayne two times since Eddie died, but it was almost three. The first time was Eddie's funeral. Steve went along with Dustin and the others to pay their respects and mourn. The second time had been a few days after that. He'd gone to the house Wayne was living in now. He said it was on behalf of Dustin as he delivered a casserole made by Claudia (himself).

But what would have been the first time would have been in the immediate aftermath. Steve had seen Wayne at the shelter that day. He'd prepared himself to walk over and tell him about Eddie the best way he could. He was ready to tell the man just how much Eddie meant to him. Dustin got there first and Steve hung back, not wanting to impeded on their moment.

He didn't know Wayne as well as he should; as well as he would have liked. He was always sneaking in and out of the trailer whenever Eddie wasn't doing the same at his house.

Suffice to say, he was very surprised when Dustin demanded they go out for lunch and it suddenly turned into a three person meal with Wayne. He tried, but wasn't able to keep the bewilderment from his face.

"I got somethin' to tell you both and it might sound unbelievable but you need to trust me."

"We're pretty experienced with unbelievable", Dustin said.

"Oh I know. Those lab coats have dossiers on all of you." Wayne almost couldn't fathom how deep that rabbit hole must go but he didn't need to know specifics. He just knew the ones who could help the most.

Steve froze and Dustin's face dropped. They couldn't tell how much Wayne knew or why he knew or why he was telling them now.

"Eddie's alive", Wayne whispered. Then he gave Steve a meaningful look. "And he needs you."

Part 3 coming soon

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@estrellami-1

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Ateez comforting a stressed partner

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘ateez members comforting stressed out reader’

Hongjoong Also a stressed workaholic, so I fully believe he’ll plan something for you both to unwind. The moment you both have some shared time off, even if it’s just for a night, he’s demanding that you both shut out work for the time being. Calls will go to voicemail and texts will be unread as you both have a nice, big dinner and lie on the couch together. Absolutely does not matter that you both might be asleep at an insanely early hour because you both deserve it.

Seonghwa So gentle about pulling you away from work for a breather. Encourages you to schedule breaks during the day. Asks multiple times a day if you’ve eaten, even if those are the only messages he’s gotten to send that day. Sneakily turns off or changes your alarms when you have the opportunity to sleep in. Will blink innocently if you ever get frustrated by these gentle reminders.

Yunho Not gentle at all about pulling you away from work for a breather. Lets you burn the midnight oil for a couple nights, but by the third, he’s taking your computer from you to save your work and shut it down. Then he’ll feed you and carry you to bed if he has to. Really just wants you to take care of yourself, but doesn’t have an in between. Either lets you overwork without a word or physically pulls you away kicking and screaming.

Yeosang Admires your work ethic and knows he can’t always stop you from taking too much on. But cups of coffee or tea will magically appear in front of you while you work. Dinner is made and leftovers are packed up for lunch tomorrow. Your clothes are laundered and an outfit is laid out for the morning. Totally silent about these little things because he really just wants to worry about the important things if you have to worry at all.

San Worried for your health when you get stressed like this. Will try to be gentle at first, planning some fun things to get out and do away from your stressors. If those things don’t help you unwind a little, then prepare for a serious conversation about taking care of yourself. Will beg you to take a few days off or take on fewer responsibilities, or at the very least be reasonable about what you can accomplish in a day.

Mingi Will do his best to help you with the things your stressed about. If you’re dreading a big project around the house, he’ll be there to do the heavy lifting. If you’re worried about money, he’s offering to help pay for it. If you’re stressed about work, well… he might not be able to help, but will certainly sit with you and keep you company while you work. Doesn’t want you to feel like you have to carry any of that burden by yourself.

Wooyoung Another one that’s not gentle about this. Will straight up turn off your alarms and call your boss to tell them you’re sick and can’t make it in. When you wake up in a panic, he takes absolutely no lip about it and tells you to get ready. Then he’s taking you somewhere to relax and do something for yourself - a massage or a facial, getting your hair or nails done, or maybe some retail therapy. Whatever you like, doesn’t matter because you’re going. Will not let the thought of work enter your mind because he’s too busy yapping about literally anything else.

Jongho Simultaneously sympathetic and totally unimpressed. Will raise an eyebrow at you when you insist you need to get some things done. “Do you? Why?” Will make you tell him why and counter everything you say with an argument. You’re so irritated by the argument that you’re no longer stressed about anything else anymore. Will look pretty smug when he recognizes he’s won and drags you to the couch or to bed for some well deserved rest.

[1425fivefive]

↻FLIP FLOP for Learned Behavior

Monaco afterparty toilets scene - Oscar's POV

would love to see a little sneak into what was going on in Oscar's head, the whole Charles thing, the sex, and especially after the kiss, poor guy has been dealing with Lando's mixed signals for months

Beloved anon, this took me ages. Have 2k of the Monaco toilets scene in Learned Behavior from Oscar's perspective:

Watching Lando from across the room—glaring at Charles, sucking angrily on the straw of his drink—Oscar can’t help but wonder about it. What Lando and Charles were to each other.

When Oscar had asked about it back in Miami, Lando had gotten all weird and cagey, done this awkward, forced laugh and insisted that Charles was straight. But Oscar’s seen the way Charles looks at men. Noticed the way Charles looks at Lando, sometimes, when Lando’s not looking. Something hungry in his gaze.

A part of Oscar doesn’t really want to know all the details. The thing with Lando feels delicate, breakable. Like if Oscar pushes too hard it might shatter, Lando looking at him with watery, hurt eyes, even as he’s telling Oscar to fuck off.

And, like—things are fine the way they are, probably. Good, even. Oscar reckons he’d put up with a lot of shit if it meant he could still have Lando fuck him every weekend, call him a good boy, get off on telling him not to come. Trace a thumb over his lip, pull his hair, tell him how pretty he looks getting fucked.

Oscar surreptitiously tries to adjust his shorts. It’s just—he hasn’t come since Imola and he’s fucking aching for it, keeps dreaming about how good Lando feels inside of him and waking up hard, dripping onto the sheets. Sometimes he thinks about taking a picture of himself, hard and swollen and wet, sending it to Lando, begging Lando to let him come, secretly hoping Lando will tell him no.

Watching Lando staring at Charles, still, Oscar wants to beg Lando to pay attention to him. To forget about whatever bullshit happened with Charles and drag Oscar back to his flat, take him apart until he’s crying, finally let him come. 

But Lando can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Charles and before Oscar can really think he’s walking across the room, sliding into the pocket of space beside Lando.

Lando glances over at him and Oscar sees the way his cheeks flush, eyes going dark. It’s gratifying, at least, to know Lando’s attracted to him. But Lando goes right back to staring at Charles and it stings, being dismissed so easily.

Oscar tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he asks, “What’s got you all pissed off?”

“Nothing,” Lando says, still openly glaring at Charles.

Oscar glances over at where Charles is standing in a crowd of people, eyes bright, laughing and smiling. “You could at least pretend to be happy for him,” Oscar says.

Lando’s brows unfurrow slightly and he finally manages to tear his gaze away from Charles, looking over at Oscar.

It feels like a win, however small. “There you go,” Oscar says softly.

He thinks, for a moment, about letting it go. Asking Lando to take him home. 

But Lando’s been ignoring him for most of the night, and Oscar can’t resist saying, “I’ve never understood why you two don’t get along. Charles is nice—”

Lando snorts. “Charles isn’t nice. He’s polite, yeah, but he’s not nice.”

Oscar wants to say, Of course you’d think that, you two have some weird, fucked-up psychosexual thing going on that’s honestly getting extremely fucking annoying.

Instead, Oscar tries to make a joke of it. “Dunno, mate, the whole adoption thing—”

“Yeah, we’ve heard,” Lando snaps, letting out a mean little laugh. “No one’s been able to shut up about it, honestly.”

Oscar can see the flash of regret on Lando’s face the moment he’s said it, the look Lando always gets when he knows he’s crossed a line. Normally Oscar forgives him. Knows Lando says shit without thinking and doesn’t mean most of it. Especially when it comes to Charles.

But Oscar’s sympathy can only go so far when Lando won’t fucking talk about any of it. Won’t even admit the basic fact that something happened between them.

“Right, well.” Oscar knocks back the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass on the bar. “I’m gonna leave you to it.”

Lando looks like he’s about to say something, but Oscar’s not really in the mood to hear it. He turns to go, accidentally catching Charles’s eye in the process.

“Oscar!” Charles calls, waving him over.

Oscar knows how it’ll look to Lando if he goes over to Charles, but he sort of wants to make Lando jealous. After Lando’s been, frankly, a bit of a cunt all weekend, even after Oscar finished P2. Lando hasn’t even congratulated him on the podium.

So Oscar goes over to Charles, lets Charles pull him into a hug, lets Charles crow about their father-son 1-2, lets Charles grip the back of his neck and smile at him. It’s nice to have someone care, but Oscar can’t help but wish it was Lando touching him like this, smiling at him and reliving the race.

But before Oscar can really say anything, he hears Lando’s voice saying, “Mind if I borrow Osc here for a sec?”

—

Lando drags him to a toilet and he’s on him as soon as the door’s locked, backing Oscar up against the sink, fingers digging into Oscar’s hips, mouth sucking at Oscar’s neck.

“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar moans, too loud by half for a bathroom in the middle of a club. But he can’t bring himself to care, too relieved at the feeling of Lando’s hands on him, Lando’s thigh slotting between his legs.

Oscar grinds down on the hard muscle of Lando’s thigh, whimpering at how good it feels to finally get some friction on his cock. 

It feels like he loses any capacity for rational thought the moment Lando gets his hands on him, the second Lando starts telling him how good he’s being, gripping his arse with his massive fucking hands. 

“You sound so fucking good,” Lando says, breath warm against Oscar’s neck, sending little sparks down Oscar’s spine. “So fucking hot, Osc.”

Oscar can’t help but whine, grinding harder against Lando.

“Fuck,” Lando groans. He slides a hand down, gripping Oscar through his trousers.

Oscar can feel his briefs get wetter, cock straining against the zipper, the friction unbearable as Lando rubs at Oscar through the fabric.

It’s insane how Lando’s hand practically covers him completely. How Lando barely has to move when he strokes Oscar’s cock, his hand so big it makes Oscar’s cock look tiny, only the flushed head peeking out of Lando’s fist. Lando calls it cute, sometimes, tells Oscar what a pretty cock he has, small and perfect. It makes Oscar feel insane, makes him want to come all over Lando’s fingers and lick it off, beg Lando to fuck him, ask Lando to never let him come again.

“Have you come since Imola?” Lando asks.

Oscar shakes his head, whimpers. “No, I—you didn’t say I could.”

“Jesus, Osc.” Lando tips his head against Oscar’s shoulder, still rubbing Oscar through his trousers.

At this rate, Oscar’s scared of coming in his clothes. But he wants it so bad, feels like he’ll lose his mind if Lando doesn’t get him off. He’d hold it, if Lando said he had to, but he feels tears pricking his eyes at the thought of not being allowed to come tonight. He just—he needs it so fucking bad. Needs Lando to make him come, needs Lando to look at him like Oscar’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, needs Lando murmuring praise while Oscar spills over his fingers.

Lando seems to be able to tell how desperate Oscar is, because he says, “You need to come, yeah?”

Oscar nods, frantic.

Lando’s already undoing the button of his trousers, tugging them and his briefs down his thighs, freeing his cock to the cold air of the toilet.

But Lando’s palm is warm when he wraps it around Oscar and Oscar can’t help the moan that escapes him, eyes sliding shut in relief, head tipping back against the mirror.

Fingers slide through Oscar’s hair, pulling, hard, and Oscar whines, eyes flying open.

“You have to look at me,” Lando breathes, stroking Oscar firm and fast. “You have to look at me if you want me to let you come.”

Oscar forces himself to look at Lando, forces himself to watch as Lando drags him closer and closer to the edge. Lando’s spouting nonsense and Oscar can’t help himself, whining and crying out as Lando rubs a thumb over the head of his cock, brings his hand up to Oscar’s mouth and tells Oscar to spit, before wrapping his hand around Oscar again, everything slick and hot and wet.

Oscar feels like he’s seconds away from coming, his abs aching from the efforts of holding back, thighs trembling.

But Lando looks like he’s enjoying it, like he likes seeing Oscar strung out and desperate. When Oscar meets Lando’s eyes, Lando’s pupils are so wide his eyes are practically black.

Oscar realizes, then, that he might never be able to walk away from this. That he’d let Lando behave as badly as he wants, treat him like shit, never talk about anything, as long as it meant Lando would touch him like this. Firm and confident and in control, looking like it’s a fucking privilege to get to see Oscar flushed and trembling with need.

It’s never—Oscar’s always felt fucking weird about how much it turns him on to be ordered around a bit, told not to come, fucked hard and rough. With his ex he just—shoved it to the back of his mind. Watched porn and otherwise tried to ignore it. There’d been a few blokes throughout the years, but—they all acted like they were doing him a favor. It wasn’t like Lando, who stares at him in awe, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing when Oscar begs for it, whimpers and whines and lets Lando tell him not to come.

Lando’s still stroking him steadily, asking Oscar all sorts of questions—whether he likes it, whether Charles would treat him like this. Oscar barely knows what he’s saying, just knows that he’ll do whatever Lando wants, say yes to anything, as long as Lando will make him come at the end of it.

“What’re you good for?” Lando breathes, eyes flitting over Oscar’s face, hand steadily stroking over Oscar’s cock.

Oscar takes a shaky breath, tries to figure out what the right answer is. He can’t work it out and, ultimately, he simply tells the truth. “Being used.”

Lando’s brain seems to short-circuit at that. He bites at Oscar’s shoulder, grip tightening around Oscar’s cock.

Lando’s hands are pulling at Oscar’s hair and his cock and he feels caught in Lando’s firm grip, laid out on display for him, here to be used however Lando wants. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

“By who, Osc?” Lando murmurs, staring at Oscar’s mouth like he’s thinking about kissing him.

Please, Oscar thinks. Please fucking kiss me, I’ll do anything you want.

And Oscar’s already telling the truth, so he says, “You.”

“Come,” Lando breathes, fingers pulling at Oscar’s hair, eyes locked on Oscar’s. “Come, baby, please.”

Oscar’s shaking as he comes, jerking forward as his cock spills messily over Lando’s fingers. It almost hurts, coming after being denied for so long but Oscar likes the edge of pain, likes how it feels almost sharp. Like he can’t do anything other than feel.

Oscar lets out a shocked gasp when Lando darts forward, pressing his lips to Oscar’s.

Lando’s lips feel incredible, warm and soft, swallowing Oscar’s desperate sounds. Oscar wants to fist his hands into Lando’s hair, pull him closer, keep him there. But his orgasm’s still rolling through him and he barely feels in control of his limbs, too overwhelmed by pleasure and the shock of being kissed to do anything other than moan into Lando’s mouth.

But Lando doesn’t seem to care, whining and licking into Oscar’s mouth, a shock of heat as their tongues slide against each other. 

Oscar doesn’t want to stop coming, wants to keep coming in Lando’s tight grip, whimpering against Lando’s mouth, surrounded by Lando’s heat and slightly-sweet scent.

But soon enough he’s slumping back against the mirror and Lando’s blinking at him with a dazed expression.

Oscar’s about to ask Lando to kiss him again when Lando’s stumbling back, grabbing paper towels and wiping Oscar’s come off his hand, tossing them in the bin and banging his way out the door.

Oscar lets out a shocked laugh, staring blankly at the closed door. “Cool,” Oscar mutters, grabbing a paper towel to clean himself up. “Really fucking cool.”

It’s classic fucking Lando. Acting like Oscar’s the hottest thing in the world, like Lando will die if he doesn’t get to fuck him, then going back to being weird and distant the moment it’s ended.

This would all be a whole lot fucking easier, Oscar thinks, if he could stop convincing himself that Lando actually feels something.

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

Honestly it baffles me the amount of people who can't read between the lines or that refuse the simple "actions speak louder than words"

Yeah, it's rushed, we could have had at least one more episode so they could have slowed down a bit but still.

People who says that "a world without Vi is a perfect world" I know you are just a stupid fuckass because you hate her for no reason and you're just pissed that your ship wasn't developed. I'm sorry to inform you but timebomb was never the main goal. You should be happy that you got it at all.

People saying Cait's arc was weak because she didn't say "I'm sorry" or something like that, you didn't pay attention at all to her, did you? She's not a woman of words. She's the kind of person who acts.

As much as I wanted Vi and Jinx to be able to live together and happy (because boy, they did deserve after everything) I know this would never happen. Why do you think she told Vi to let herself be happy for once? (Not with those words but you know) And then she walked away? She knew that as long she was there, Vi would never let herself be happy because Vi didn't think she deserves to be happy.

Reuniting with Vi and seeing that she never gave up on her gave Jinx the closure she needed to move on with her life and if you can't see that, you don't know Jinx at all.

Another thing that's pissing me off A LOT is people saying Vi didn't gaf about Jinx's "death" (yes, I believe she escaped) like, what else do you want? Vi screaming and crying apparently is not enough. And this just makes me certain that these people saying this never experienced grief at all. They have no idea how grief works.

And don't get me started on caitvi. I don't know what else they expected because the way they looked at each other in that scene was enough for me. They love each other SO MUCH. They aren't the type of cute love confessions. They don't do that. Maybe one day they will let slip an "I love you" but that's it.

There's a lot of things that could have/should have gained more attention, yes, but arcane is definitely a great show. Better than many shows I watched recently.

No one will ever make me hate Vi, Cait or Jinx. Ever.

I knew we would eventually reach a point where masses of people would misinterpret Arcane, but I never imagined it would be this bad.

Yes, I absolutely agree that season 2 was rushed, especially Act 3, and it is undeniable that the series would have benefited from at least one more episode if not an entire act. However, the current discourse about the show is so superficial that it's impossible to have a conversation about anything deeper but a mere synopsis of the characters and story.

So many of you expected this series to hold your hand and dumb everything down so you can understand it. But when it wasn't the case, you all started rioting and calling the characters vague, the plot bad, and the ships underdeveloped.

The amount of people who value spoken text more than the actions of the characters is worrying. And more worrying than that is the amount of those who interpret the said actions so superficially. I can't believe it needs to be explained that it wasn't Vi's death that led to the "good" timeline, but the lack of hextech. The result would have been the same if either of them had died. It wasn't about Vi, but about the child that died because of dangerous technology and that therefore that technology must not be used. The mischaracterization of Vi in general is insane. Call me biased and unfair, but the moment I hear you don't like her I will assume you didn't understand the show.

Also, the whole discourse around Caitvi scene in episode 8 is giving brainsmooth. No, Vi didn't choose Cait over Jinx, quite the opposite. No, Cait didn't plan all of it to fuck Vi. No, Vi didn't do it because she felt forced or because she is a horny animal who doesn't care about her sister. No, them fucking in a cell is not about the class difference, but about the fact that Vi felt an insane rush of emotions after realizing that Cait would let go of her revenge and help Jinx escape, all for her. Yes, I do agree that it would be nice if we got a longer conversation between Vi and Caitlyn and it would feel great to hear Cait apologize, but I'll always value actions over words. Her talking to Jinx, recognizing that she is just as bad as her, and choosing to trust Vi that her sister can change, thus letting Jinx escape will always mean more than any verbal apology and I'll die on that hill.

Also, it was Jinx's decision to let go and walk away. It was not about Vi trying to get to Vander, but about Jinx being tired of everything. Even if that fight didn't happen, the result would be the same: Jinx would leave because she knows that Vi couldn't do that. She knew that the two of them couldn't have a normal life together and that Vi would never give up on her. Jinx didn't "die" because Vi pushed her or failed her, but because she loved her too much. Whether you believe that she is dead or that she escaped, it's her decision either way.

Again, I agree that too much happened too quickly, but stop confusing your stupidity and inability to read between the lines with the quality of the series.

Arcane is flawed but still brilliant.

[cherricola-star]

Good girl

Of course you're his good girl you'd do anything to please him, Anything.

Tags: Afab!reader, Dom!Bangchan, Sub!reader, Daddy kink, cumming inside (protection pleeeease), squirting, cunnilingus, piv, Age gap (like 5 yrs dw), dirty talk, Chan is big (obvi), groping...etc

Word count: 2.2k

Posted: 11.26.24

Smut under the cut

How could you ever disobey your love? He did spoil you with many things, after all: love, lavish gifts, emotional support, and amazing sex. Honestly, you don't understand how you could have ever upset your beautiful husband. Well, that is what you're currently asking yourself. You couldn't help it; you were needy, and he was home because of his occupation.

You’ve been a stay-at-home wife for a while now after meeting Chan straight after graduation from your university at an after-party held by one of the previous graduates since their younger sibling happened to be in your graduating year. You still remember meeting him for the first time. How could you forget? He may not have been the tallest but his blonde hair, plush lips, strong jaw and adorable dimples were drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t resist, especially not when he spotted you in the crowd.

He approached you and struck up a conversation asking you if you were a graduate and what your major was in. You learned some things about him too, like the fact that he was 5 years older than you with a house, car, and a well-paying job. God you never thought a grown man with a mortgage and his life figured out would turn you on so bad but you couldn’t help it you’ve always been a daddy’s girl.

This small interaction led to you getting to know each other even more with him courting you until you signed that marriage certificate promising to be with him through sickness and health.

The stay-at-home wife part came much later, about 2 years into your marriage when he came home to you and there was a home-cooked meal for him. After a bit of begging, you gave in and decided to quit your job, not like you enjoyed it anyway, but it was one of the best decisions you’ve made.

Chan was always busy with work but, it never bothered you since he still took you out on dates and spoiled you with sex and vacations whatever he had his days off but now he was on one of his business trips for his company and it was supposed to be a week long.

A whole week, how could you wait that long without an orgasm? Your sex life had never been put on such a long hiatus, the most being 3 days max but a week? You didn't know if you would survive. One of your favourite parts of the marriage was and is your sex life. He was so attentive and firm, he never made you feel unsatisfied, always making sure you came before anything else but there was one rule he had for you. Don’t cum without daddy.

You’ve followed these rules fairly well save for the few times where you disobeyed just for the fun of fucking around and finding out but now? You’ve been on a dry spell for 5 days and still had another 2 to go. You weren't a nympho at least you tried not to be but honestly, you couldn’t help it with a man like yours every time you weren’t on him was when you were either asleep or he was at work and it wasn’t your fault either, not when he was so graciously blessed with something you wanted in your mouth 24/7.

You glanced at the clock to see it was 1:30 am and all you’d been doing was fighting the urge to indulge in your impulsive thoughts but as time went on you began to realise. Nobody is home and it's the middle of the night one orgasm wouldn’t hurt especially in the dark. You made up your mind and turned to your favourite position to masturbate which was face down and ass up. You loved the way you felt spread like this and that when your legs gave out you’d fall onto your hand to continue to play with yourself even in overstimulation.

You pull up your nightgown and spread your legs, having forgotten underwear since you were too lazy to put on a pair earlier. Your fingers started to rub at your clit, stimulating you further and pushing you to continue. Your fingers move from your clit to in between your slick folds to gather your arousal to continue to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You had never been loud while masturbating this time you decided there was no harm in letting out sweet breathy moans since nobody was around to hear them anyway. You move your fingers to prod at your entrance while you start to think about how upset your husband would be if he saw you right now but instead of stopping it turns you on even more causing you to slip both fingers in to find your sweet spot.

Finding your g-spot you start to massage the soft spot bringing your breathy moans to light whining while thoughts of your husband spurred you on to continue. Lost in your self-pleasure while still being in a dark room you don’t seem to recognize another presence in the room with you at the same time. You feel two warm hands on the globes of your ass causing you to let out a scream and retract your hand from your drenched pussy.

“Shhh careful baby you might hurt yourself.” You heard the voice of your husband right against your ear and tried to steady your breathing and steady your heartbeat.

“What were you doing in the dark baby? Surely you weren’t being naughty and violating my rules were you?”

You’re fucked, completely and utterly fucked. He wasn’t supposed to be home this soon, never mind this late at night. Your thoughts are dragging you into your world before your husband’s voice pulls you out again.

He continues to massage your ass while speaking “And here I thought I could surprise my beautiful wife by coming home early and having her wake up to me but instead I get a brat playing with her naughty pussy without her Daddy’s permission. What should I do with you?”

You break out in a whine due to your neediness and the lack of stimulation on your aching core. You feel his hand slide from your ass to spread your further to look at your dripping centre before blowing on it causing you to squeal. He pulls away and you push your ass back to seek him out again craving his touch on you again.

“Please please please Channie needs you so bad... Didn’t have you for so long couldn’t help myself”, you plead with him raising up your body with your arms to turn around and look at his shaded silhouette in the dark room. He lets on a chuckle before putting a warm hand on the centre of your back and pushing you back down into an arch. You feel his warm breath near your sopping wet cunt before he speaks again “Im sorry baby shouldn’t have left my needy girl alone for so long but don't worry I'll make it up to you,” He licks his warm silky tongue against your wet cunt dragging out a long deep moan from you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry from the pleasure or relief of knowing that you were going to be able to cum regardless you loved the feeling as his soft thick plush lips latched on to your swollen clit to such on it before moving them to your entrance to suck and lick at that as well.

That warm feeling of your orgasm warns you of its incoming presence and you push yourself further back on his face as he tongue fucks you. “Fuck such a needy baby,” he pulls away forbore turning you onto your back to resume his activities from earlier while he put your legs over his shoulders. The new angle had him ravishing you more intensely than the previous one with his tongue licking aggressively at your clit before switching back to sucking on it. The pleasure was borderline overwhelming with you giving broken breathy moans and your nails digging into his scalp to pull him closer.

“M’ Gonna cum” You whine. Chan doesn’t stop, instead continuing to lick and suck with more intensity than before. You feel that thigh band snap and you cream all over his tongue as he licks up your arousal before sitting back on his knees. You pant trying to get your breath back after that leg-numbing orgasm while Chan takes off his clothing.

You look at his naked body in all of its glory admiring every curve and lean cut of muscle. He was so perfect that you sometimes had a hard time believing he was your husband. As your eyes continue to wander you look at his v-line following down to his cock. It was one of the prettiest ones you’ve ever seen really, it was pretty and veiny with a pink tip, a girth that would leave you aching all day and a length that would either gently or brutally kiss your cervix every time you two got intimate. You truly loved his cock and if the situation was different you’d no doubt have it in your mouth right now sucking and licking it to your heart's content.

You watch him reposition himself between your legs and spread them wide to look at your puffy blushed cunt as he takes one hand to rub through your wet folds again causing you to buck your hips. He takes his slicked-up finger and rubs them up and down his shaft getting it wet so it’s easier for you to take him.

You look up at him with pleading eyes silently begging him to give you his cock. “Is my baby that desperate?” he slaps his cock on your pussy a couple of times before sliding it between your folds and rubbing his tip on your clit simultaneously. You hump yourself onto his cock begging for him to stop teasing you and to just put it in. He seems to pick up on your non-verbal begging and decides to take mercy on you and slams his cock into your tight pussy.

As if all the air is knocked out of your body your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cream on his cock just from that forceful entry. He stares at you in disbelief, shocked that you came before he could even get 3 thrusts in. He pulls his cock out to thrust it in shallowly before you whine from overstimulation.

“Don’t be like that love, Daddy has to come too. You wouldn't want to be the only one having fun huh?”, You shake your head in response and he smirks at you “Good girl, you'll let me do anything right,” You nod your head in response “so you'll let me use this cute pussy until I cum?” You give him your verbal consent knowing that he wouldn’t continue if you didn’t respond without words. He takes your consent and slowly starts to thrust back into you slowly picking up speed as he does.

.

.

.

You've had more orgasms since and your poor cunt was being constantly bullied with your husband's fat cock which in turn was causing you to continuously clench around him. “Such a good girl f’me letting me use her till I come,” you gasp as one particular trust hits a little too deep. “Too much.” you slur out and you don’t know if you have any more in you, “Just one more baby you can do it.” he encourages you to hold on for one more. He takes your legs, puts them over his shoulders and grabs your hips to slightly elevate your lower body. This new position and his new vigorous speed have you seeing stars. His hard cock bullying your soft spongy walls now felt way more intense and made you clench uncontrollably on him making him whisper out curses.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight for me. Daddy’s gonna come soon yeah? He’s gonna ruin this pretty pussy with his cum yeah?" You whine at his vulgar words as you feel your final orgasm coming on. He impossibly picks up his pace hitting that sweet spot continuously before you scream out your orgasm. Though, this time instead of creaming on his cock you squirt all over him which in turn causes him to cum deep inside of your abused cunt. He leans down and takes your lips in a soft wet kiss nipping at your bottom lip.

He pulls back and lets his softening cock slip out and with it his cum. He chuckles at your ruined state before leaving the bedroom to gather your aftercare kit and a bottle of water. He returns and takes the wipes to wipe you clean while whispering sweet words of praise and love before giving you the water to drink. Once you were finished he laid you down and cuddled behind you giving delicate kisses to your lower neck. He pulls back and leans over to your ear giving a light whisper “Next time I catch you paying with yourself like a whore, I won't be so fucking nice.”

You smile to yourself knowing exactly what you were going to do the next time he had a business trip before drifting off to sleep.

Hi guys I have a new one shot again. Please be sure to interact because Ik I tend to forget after reading a fic. Have a lovely day/night until next time.🍒

[mullermilkshake]

Sukuna’s proposal

Yakuza!Sukuna x Fem!reader

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, fem reader, knives, blood, graphic depictions of violence, references to non-con, stabbing, potential death, gun use, fighting, risk of death/murder, threats of violence, marriage proposal.

Shinjuku - 1982…

Mr Nanami called your name from his office, "Can you come in here please?"

"Is everything alright?" for the first time since you started this job, Kento Nanami showed a concerned look across his face.

"I have someone incredibly important coming and I have to be upfront with you," he offered up the chair across from his desk and allowed you to sit. "To be honest, I thought you would have left by now."

Was he questioning your professionalism? You had been there a few months and he hadn't uttered a word. "How so?"

"Well this sort of work isn't exactly your usual office work, I know you're aware of my security systems."

You were also very aware that at least Mr Nanami was Yakuza, though it never bothered you. It was simple enough to come into work, do your job and leave in the evening. Of course it came with its risks, but any job linked to the Yakuza warranted more open eyes than usual.

That was why you opted for spray in your bag incase someone came with overzealous hands. You could handle yourself in some capacity, so it was never an issue.

"I'm also aware that you are Yakuza, Mr Nanami. That doesn't bother me if that's what you are trying to imply?"

Was that a sigh of relief? "So you're up to speed then, this makes things easier. I apologise I never implicitly clarified before you came, but as you may have noticed, it's difficult to find civilian staff who won't run at the first sign of trouble."

Mr Nanami seemed like a reliable man at least, he was prompt, respectful and incredibly chivalrous. Something that may come in handy later should trouble actually arise.

Though for now, it seemed plausible to suggest that you were in good hands. As long as that didn't change and he left you out in the cold.

"I took this job knowing what sort of work you may have been in, I just need a steady pay check to afford my apartment. I don't need to know anything or ask questions."

Mr Nanami nodded and leant forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in thought. "Good. At least I won't have to explain this."

He rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a knife. large enough to be mistaken for a kitchen knife, though it was dainty enough to be pocket sized if you squinted at it hard enough.

"I want you to keep this in your desk out front. The man who's coming is the type that some people despise for various reasons and I do not like the fact you have nothing as a deterrent while he's here."

Some might have suggested in their minds that the man himself was a serial killer or something, but that wasn't it at all. That signified to you that the man in question was someone of great importance to Mr Nananmi.

His own boss perhaps? Someone with enough power to make enemies out of the wood work to warrant protection from a secretary out front at collateral.

You bet on that it was his boss.

"Alright then," you leant forward and took the knife from the desk, its weighted handle gleaming in the low light of the screens off to the left side of the room you never dared to look at. "If that's what you wish of me, consider it done."

Mr Nanami got up from his chair as a signal for you to do the same. "Thank you, I hope you never have to use it."

"I hope so too," following him, he led you out of the office and back to your desk to which you slipped the knife into your drawer just like he had done before. "What time will your guest arrive?"

"Tonight, but I won't need you to bring him through. I'll greet him myself," he made a move back to his office and stopped in his tracks. "It's best if you don't make direct eye contact with him, his presence can be overwhelming to some."

You nodded to give non-verbal communication and turned to your work for rest of the day until Mr Nanami came back out of his office to greet the shadow at the door.

"Chairman," seeing Mr Nanami bow to another man was an odd sight.

The man being shorter in stature than himself, bright hair and unusual tattooed markings on his face. He was beautiful, the markings were beautiful in their own way, and being a Yakuza man made his presence all that more intimidating.

Well, to other people. Not to you.

To you, he was just another man just like Mr Nanami.

For a fleeting second, the two of you made eye contact to which you bowed your head in respect and continued working, noting his silent footsteps wander past you and into Mr Nanami's office.

Another hour must have passed in silence while your pen scribbled away, scratching over the quiet for something to listen to. Paperwork and filed reports sorted alphabetically to make the time not drag whilst there wasn't much else to do.

A knock at the outer office door was the most interesting thing in the whole room, it sounded timid by the rapping of knuckles which led you to believe it was Ino coming back to tinker with the network, or fiddle with something computer related.

But it wasn't.

It was a man you had never seen before. "I'm sorry, is there any chance I can see Nanami right now?"

"Sorry, but Mr Nanami is in a meeting right now. He can't be disturbed, would you like to leave a message?"

"No that's fine," he moved towards the desk and just past it, looking at the office door. "I only wanted to see who was out here before I get my guys."

What?

He held up a gun and moved fast enough to get behind you. "Why he would put a woman out front is beyond me. The Chairman's in there, isn't he?"

So that man inside with Mr Nanami was the Chairman?

You said nothing, making little micro movements towards your desk drawer. The weapon seemed as though bad luck had graced your desk, spending not even twenty four hours in your possession and you were already edging towards it to use it on a man you'd never met before.

There was a gun pointed at your head and you were as calm as you had ever been. Though what was the use in panicking?

The barrel of that gun pressed against your head. "Answer me, bitch."

"I don't know who you're referring to," so close now, the drawer handle in your reach.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he was trying to be as quiet as he could, teeth gritted and all. "I have four guys out there ready to storm this place and they'll take turns with you, believe me. So cooperate and tell me."

He was making threats like that already? He was either incredibly wet behind the ears to use something so drastic this early, or it was a bluff.

"Alright, I'll get the keys to the office."

The excuse was enough for the pressure of metal to leave the back of your head and allow you to open the drawer naturally and moved your hand around to feel for the knife's handle.

'If a person has possession of a knife when threatened, they better follow through in using it.' That was advice you had heard once from somewhere.

Might as well listen to it.

It all happened so fast, taking a hold of the weighted handle and moving forward a fraction so you could drive the blade into the man's thigh. The gun went off regardless by your head and the shot rang through your ears though it wasn't enough to stun you.

You weren't sure how you got up from your seat the way you did to draw the knife out of him and lunge again with the steel pushing onto his chest, enough to topple him off his feet and drag him to meet the hard floor with you on top of him.

The ringing vibrated your ear drums, tingling too much to notice Mr Nanami's office door open. You were on top of a man who threatened you with a gun and there was so much blood.

But he was still alive.

It wasn't shock. It couldn't have been. You were still coherent, you just couldn't hear much. The red on your hands was new, sticky and warm enough to keep you out of the moment until someone took a hold of your shoulders.

It wiped you out and into reality, grasping at what you had done in the present in front of your employer and a stranger who was eyeing you intensely.

"Can you hear me?" Mr Nanami shook you a little, his voice muffled somewhat. "Are you alright?"

"He threatened me- I didn't know what else I could do."

And now you were justifying yourself. You would do the same thing if there was a time machine to take you back.

"But are you alright?"

"I'm fine. There might be others outside," how were you talking so clearly right now with just your little rapid breaths at your lips? "He asked about the Chairman and said there are four others."

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah. I'm alright," the blood was a nuisance.

Mr Nanami lead you over to your chair and pulled the desk phone to his ear. "I'm calling Naoya, he'll be able to take you home."

"Don't let that ingrate in on this Nanami," the Chairman spoke for the first time.

"I can't leave until this is cleared up, she'll need to get home."

"I'll take her back, Uraume is waiting in the car," the Chairman approached the desk and folded his arms with purpose. "Naoya is a brat, he'd only mess it up. I'll make sure she get's home while you clean up the trash."

Wait. Clean up? Things were catching up to you. "Is he dead?"

Had you just killed a man? You should have been more freaked out about it. But you weren't.

"He's kicking for now. Shame. You should have aimed higher."

Right in front of you was a hand, the Chairman's hand. You made a note of the darkened polish adorning his manicured nails, black bands around his wrist.

You took it without question. "I'll bare that in mind next time I stab a man."

"Good. Nanami, call by tomorrow when this is sorted."

"Yes sir."

His hand was far warmer than you anticipated. He never let go until you were in the car, a sort of blur until he broke the silence.

"Care to explain how a civilian found their way into a vipers pit of the Yakuza?"

He was the Chairman, it was only respectful you answer him honestly. Right? "Money. I needed the money. I was aware who Mr Nanami was as soon as I saw him."

The world zipped by from the car window, unaware for the crime you had just committed. If the man wasn't dead, he was certainly gravely injured enough to warrant a prison sentence should anone find out. It was never discussed or mentioned by Mr Nanami or the Chairman.

It was more like an afterthought from yourself.

"Yet you still accepted the job offer anyway? And now you've stabbed a man with a gun. This life is hardly one to brag about when you're collateral."

"It doesn't scare me," only his reflection was in your periphery, you didn't turn your head to face him. "It's a job. I've had my fair share of hardships to know life isn't easy. Defending myself is something that comes naturally."

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle. "Defending yourself is far more difficult than people understand. It takes someone strong to do what is necessary."

That much was true. And that statement was enough to get your head turning to face him. Even in the dim light of the passing street lights, he was beautiful.

How did someone such as himself find his way into becoming a Chairman?

"Sometimes we're faced with difficult decisions when the hardest choice is the wisest. It's just something that has to happen."

The blood had dried along your fingers and began to crack and chip away leaving streaks of exposed skin at the joints. It would take more than just one shower alone to get all of this yuck off of you.

"You speak more truth than most of the men under my watch. It's refreshing."

"Sir, we've arrived," a voice from the drivers side came about to ground you.

"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

The car door was suddenly opened for you, the driver bowing and their identity remained hidden. The other door opened and the Chairman approached you.

"I never got your name, Mr Nanami never told me."

"Sukuna. It's Ryomen Sukuna."

Even in the darkened sky of the night's glow tapered off with the neon signs of Shinjuku, he was still beautiful. You spoke your name too and offered a bow before taking steps towards the door to your apartment.

A quaint little ground floor, and it was all yours.

"Do you need assistance?"

"No, I'll be alright from here."

His eyes were in the back of your head as you wandered past him. "I'll be forward because it's not every day I meet a woman who pulls something so extraordinary to gain my attention like you did today."

"Hmm?" you turned and watched him from your front door almost, he made no attempt to follow you.

"Marry me."

"What?"

A proposal from someone you had spoken few sentences to was a first. But you didn't find yourself shying away from the subject.

"Marry me."

"I..."

The man in front of you softened his eyes, never judging you covered in another mans blood. "Think about it, and come to me with any answer you choose."

He bowed to you and turned towards the car, the driver opening the door to let him disappear into the darkness of tinted glass.

After that night, you wondered about that man and who he really was.

You gave him your answer several days later.

And it was a firm yes.