#but he's also seen all the shit musk says and does

[autistic-demon]

There were many but the biggest red flag Mr Beast had was being the biggest Elon Musk fanboy and constantly shilling for Tesla

[marysdonuts]

S stands for scam

nepo baby!Seungcheol x scammer!reader

Synopsis: You are cold hearted scammer who loves to break men and use them for money. Seungcheol the rich nepo baby is your next target. Will the sadness in his eyes melt your icy heart? Or will you empty his bank account?

Warnings: smut, scam, dom!reader, sub!seungcheol (first time), slightly sad!seungcheol, oral (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, light butt stuff (m.receiving), crack

WC: 1.7K

Status: part 1. - ongoing

a/n: join my taglist to get notified about new chapters - here

You always liked cocky guys. You know, those who reek of confidence. Who boast their good looks for everybody to see. That smirk on their face.. Like they know they are the shit. Bossing people around. Extremely competitive. Eyes that don't take No for an answer. And let's be honest... Rich. Money makes you move.

You also liked, no, loved to take these type of men and wipe that annoying grin off their handsome faces. Make them beg or even better - cry. After being done with them, take all the cash and dip. Especially if they looked tough. Sweet little challenge for your ego.

That's why you picked Choi Seungcheol as your next target. It was not unusual to see him frequent the same upscale hotel bar as you. Upscale and luxury were two things you like more than putting men in their place. Unfortunately, for Him, he was both.

//

Sitting at the bar, each time in new tailored suit, definitely italian, changing limited edition watched like socks. Always came alone and acted like he owned the place. Manspreading on the chair, taking up space for three. So annoying.

However, men like that are such an easy prey.

"Your drink looks delicious, what is it called?" question rolled off your tongue with childlike curiosity, doe eyed, like you never had a sip of alcohol before. You always looked innocent. They never seen what was coming.

"Whiskey Sour" he slowly turned his head in your direction with raised eyebrow. He looked angry. Well, for a second. Looking you up and down, anger turned into pleasant surprise.

"Bartender, mix one for the lady" He didn't ask questions, only commands.

"I didn't say I want one" You smirked, knowing he bit the bait

"Join me" patting the chair next to him. Decreasing his manspreading to two people space. Damn, why are his thighs so huge? Sitting down, quite close to each other, whiff of his perfume entered your aura. Wood and Musk? Not sure, but he smelled good.

"Not bad. I mean your perfume" Compliments get the leo heart and you did your research.

"What about me?" he closed the distance between you, self assured look on his face

"You? Decent"

"Only decent?"

"I've met many people like you,"

"Oh? Is that right?" he paused, competitive side bubbling to the surface "Darling, you never met anybody like me" he purred

Just where you wanted him

"Spoiled, rich, pretty boy, spending his daddy's money" You continued

"So, you think I am pretty" He laughed, boost of confidence you could almost physically see. Like a skill level up in online game. Shoulders growing wider.

Confidence +1!

You sipped on your drink instead of answering. Letting him have this one. Glass hanging from your fingertips.

"Shall we get going?" he asked, suggestively brushing over your hand, taking the drink from it. You have to give it to him. He does not waste time. What Cheol wants Cheol gets. The way he was moving made it obvious nobody ever had the guts to question his autority. Sweet smile on your lips, dark shadow passing over your eyes.

"Lead the way"

Oh how you were looking forward to teaching this one a lesson.

//

Gently pressing your back to the door the moment they closed, his hands hugging the curve of your face, he swallowed your lips desperately. But in such a loving manner? What's going on in here? Is he not the type of person you thought he was?

"It's not often, people have the courage to say what they really think about me. To my face." Resting his forehead on your shoulder. Soft hair tickling your neck.

Why did that sound so sad? Almighty guy, now somehow looked like a lost puppy. You could tell he was tired of always being the responsible one. Searching for a caring soul that would take care of him. For once.

"There is more where that came from" you smirked. Pity? You did this many times before. Use a guy. Get the money. Why should it be any different today? You won't let any pity distract you from your goal.

Now pinning Him to the door. Forcing your knee between his thick thick thighs. He could probably crush you with those if he wanted. Ha. Take that.

"Such a big boy yet so weak" you mocked him

Eyes widening in shock, Cheol didn't resist. It was his first time being talked to like that. He didn't know what to make of it, but the growing heat of the moment your knee almost touched his Cheol Jr., showed him the way.

//

Next thing he knew, his knees were painfully pressed on to the wooden floor, gasping for air, as you completely drenched, slid painfully slow stroke over his face. Gliding your needy clit down the length of his nose, circling it like you had all the time in the world. You found your way to his, already open and waiting - mouth. Bulging in his pants became more and more evident, wet spot made its appearance quite quickly. Expensive fabric hardly keeping any secrets.

"Not the best day to wear gray suit, huh?" You smirked, running hand thru his full wavy hair, ending the gentle pet by pulling him closer.

"mmhm! " Seungcheol could barely breathe not to mention speak, the only thing that came out was muffled whine. No space was left between the two of you. He felt so weak. Just as you said. There was no strenght to fight back and step by step he realised that he didn't want to.

"You okay down there, pretty boy?" you couldn't help but laugh at the teary look in his eyes, mouth completely filled with your heat.

"I will need you to hold still now" not waiting for him to answer

You started rubbing on his face with gusto. Step by step increasing the vigour of your strokes. Caged moans, whimpers and what was that? Little cries? Kept escaping one by one from this tough built man, imprisoned between your thighs. You could tell he completely gave himself to the sensation.

"Look at you, moaning all over the place. Does it feel that good being used like a toy?" pushing him on his back, your legs now framing each side of his handsome, messed up face. You could see your dripping excitement spread all over his face, glistering under the warm lights. If he was wearing mascara it would be ruined by now.

"i-it does.." cheeks flushed with rosy colour, his confidence left the room long time ago

Confidence -10!

"Such a good boy. Do you know what happens to good boys, Cheollie?" At the sound of his name being spoken so sweetly, throb in his trousers almost made them explode. Nobody called him like that.

" What - " didn't finish, just looking at you with those sparkly brown eyes completely at your mercy

" You get a reward! " you exclaimed almost as if you were Oprah throwing gifts at her guests.

Straddling him backwards.

"Keep licking" you command as your warm lips reach the throbbing bulge in his pants. Soft kisses falling all over his pride. As they became increasingly wet the force he was eating you out with, surged.

"Shall I take it ou-" suddenly moaning as his tongue hit the correct spot.

"mmh p...l..se" struggling to get his answer out

"I will take that as a yes" slowly lowering his bottoms. All of him springing up like mushrooms after rain, slapping your cheek, leaving his precum all over it.

"Already this wet, huh?"

Pulling your lips closer to the tip, starting with playful licks circling the perimeter. Your kisses becoming sloppy, hands joining into the motion, cheeks hollowing. Up and down, up and down and in spiral. Producing moans from under you.

Cheol didn't know if it was the lack of air, the pulsing of your pussy tightly pressed on him or your pretty mouth, so so wet covering every single spot of his sensitive area... But he had a feeling he might finish uncharacteristically quickly. This was entirely new experience for him.

"fuck.. it feels so good, " Finally, a coherent sound escaping out for a second "not sure how long I will last if you keep sucking me like that"

"Then I better get to the highlight of tonight" chuckling devilishly as you quickly jumped off of his face.

"Put those muscles to use and take me to the bed" you ordered the poor man with his pants still stuck at the knees.

He wobbled but obeyed. After completely taking off his trousers, once carefully pressed fabric was a mess on the floor. Covered in your saliva and his own juices.

The image of finally embracing you, feeling your tightness powered his moves as he carried you in his arms, bridal style. Carefully laying you down on the sheets. You enjoyed that more than you'd ever admit.

"Such a strong big boy" you whispered as your lips brushed his cheek. Kiss as reward. Sending electric shocks down his spine.

"I will need you to kneel for me, okay?"

His head moved in agreement but the hands shamefully covering how hard he was.

"It's too late to cover up. I already saw everything," you laughed, positioning yourself behind him

"well... almost everything." suddenly forcing his head to the pillows, leaving his bottom raised up and totally exposed. He gasped as you started spreading his thick thighs apart. Nestling your face between the cherry cheeks, hot breath reaching the sensitive pink flesh. Freeing your tongue from behind your teeth. Pressing your mouth against his pulsing rectum all at once.

"Ohhh" he moaned in pleasure. Well, for a moment. Before realising what was happening

"Wait! Where do you think you are going??" He almost cried out

//

Cheol was an adventurous guy, but not THAT adventurous. However, the moment he felt your hot slippery tongue in his prohibited zone picking up speed running in circles, and heard your moans becoming louder and louder.. He started loosing any inhibitions present until this moment. His legs slowly opening even more on their own accord, hips pushing up and meeting your mouth halfway. All of this a reflex. He didn't know he had it in him, but the body was reacting and he could not control any of it.

Dignity -20!

to be continued

[mugiwara-lucy]

Now some may be wondering why I’ve been so gung ho on Early Voting/Mail In Voting? The reason is because as we’ve seen in the last couple of weeks Trump and his cult are going to no doubt try and steal the election as evidenced by them trying by to make Nebraska a “winner take all state”, having Georgia do hand ballots, keeping Kamala’s name off the ballots in Montana (while miraculously leaving on RFK Jr’s 🙄) and trying to pass that “Save Act nonsense” along with Trump shit talking our troops that vote overseas.

All of what I mentioned is ACTUAL election interference. Thankfully all of them except the Georgia hand ballot thing have been shoved to the side although even that is being contested next week so hopefully that gets scrapped too. The reason this is actual election interference is because counting hand ballots by hand is no doubt mentally exhausting but you’re bound to make an error (and you can believe MAGA will make an “error” 😒) and you’d know this if you’ve ever done inventory at work, you’d know this. The Save Act screws married women since youzmd have to have the same name you were born with and making Nebraska a “winner take all” state would have NO DOUBT been an unfair advantage for Trump and as for leaving off Kamala’s name in Montana, there is NO excuse for that. Funny how the party of “law and order” is involved with all this untrustworthy nonsense. 🥴

But yeah sorry to segue in all that, I just wanted to let you know the shit MAGA is putting on is and how we can best combat them and I feel mail in ballots and early voting is a GREAT counter to that! Also I feel it worth noting that Trump said if he gets in office, he’s putting Elon Musk in charge of the government and both say they will do away with both mail in ballots and early voting. Gee I wonder why 😒

But yeah anyways, here are the Early Voting Dates:

And here’s your link to request a mail in ballot! Though please keep in mind when you get your mail in ballot, like I say, make sure to deposit it AT the USPS office! That way you can avoid MAGA mail fuckery! Here’s the link to sign up!

And well if you just wanna be old fashioned like me, here are the dates which list the deadlines and when it’s the last day to sign up to vote on November 5th as well as the link to register to vote itself.

Guys we’ve done so well and because of our hard work; Kamala has a lead in Arizona, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania, North Carolina and Wisconsin. (Which is why MAGA is even more unhinged with their fuckery eye roll) but we can NOT stop here. We can NOT afford to take our feet off the breaks UNTIL Kamala wins and is in the White House. And even then this is NOT the end of Project 2025/Agenda 47/180 Transition Plan (new name same shit), it will only be delayed.

In short, PLEASE PLEASE VOTE in ANY way you can. Either Mail In (with the tip I shared), Early or ACTUAL IN DAY VOTING of November 5th!

If we fail and we get Trump….we can DEFINITELY say goodbye to voting since don’t forget two months ago he said and I quote “you won’t ever have to worry about voting again. It’ll all be fixed.” We all know what that means when he says “fixed”.

And we also enjoyed several events like Pride Month this year. With all his talk about “Christianity and going after Anti-Christians”, if he gets in, this could legitimately have been our LAST pride month.

And like I’ve always said if he gets in, he’s not leaving until he croaks and if that happens we get someone like JD Vance or Elon Musk as president.

I’m sure I don’t have to explain how HORRIFIC that would be. And keep in mind, our economy STILL hasn’t fully recovered from how bad Trump fucked us over even FOUR YEARS LATER.

So in short let’s NOT blow this. Thank You 🙏

[sweetofsin]

anyway sorry i'm annoyed because of the posts coming up on my for you and i keep pressing "not interested" but you know

i'm really annoyed and tired of the big divide with how people talk about neurodivergent vs. neurotypical. i'm not saying it's all bad but it's very annoying when i already feel like western countries, especially america, loves to categorize and divide and label people constantly which often times does nothing but create more division and this presumption that it's 1 Group and 2 Group when in reality, we're more alike and intertwined than we think

i legit don't think there's any way anyone, or at least most people on this earth, is neurotypical. anything can happen or be altered towards your brain or characteristic traits that can come from trauma, genetics, environments, etc. even something like allergies can cause a shift where you can end up having similar traits as if you were 'neurodivergent'

i guess i'm also tired of seeing the constant label and divide because i've seen a lot of neurodivergent people act in ways that people swear up and down mainly neurotypical people do. it's very exhausting when people believe an identity is so definitive and absolves people of things, when literally that's not how this works. humans are rarely, if ever, determinative and definitive by a singular label. and that's not a bad thing

also what it leads to is people thinking that there's no way they can cause x harm, or be as bad as x people, because they don't have that label/identity. i've seen people associate something like gossiping or shit-talking with neurotypicals—when i have an entire family of neurodivergents who thrive off of that shit. i've been friends with other neurodivergents who also love shitting on others too.

i hate using elon musk as an example but i mean, he is a clear example that being autistic does not mean that you are morally superior/incapable of certain forms of harm/etc.

there is this tendency to want to categorize groups of people into Good vs. Bad based upon identities/labels, and i understand some of it, but oftentimes... it causes more harm than good imo. because none of us are completely good or completely bad. i agree that there are definitely actions that we can do that are really fucking bad. but that distinction is important to be made, we are all capable of doing harmful actions. but they don't always have to be tied back to our identity

[aggro-crap]

Every thought I’ve had while watching Glass Onion again

I have a million thoughts about Glass Onion and I need to get it off my chest!

First of all, I really need the people calling Blanc’s accent “bad” to just stop. He is from Louisiana...his name is fucking Benoit Blanc for fucks sake! That’s a Louisiana/Cajun accent. For those who don’t know, “southern” isn’t a singular accent the same way “european” doesn’t describe any specific accent. It’s a generalization. Every southern state has slightly different accents and cadences that define each region. 

SPOILERS PAST THIS POINT

So Miles Bron is obviously a clear depiction of Elon Musk, we see details hinting to other billionaires as well through wardrobe and props. The very first scene shows Claire getting her box from Miles delivered by an Alpha Courier van...Amazon Prime anyone? Even his clothes throughout remind me of billionaires like Musk and Steve Jobs. 

Duke’s mom calling him dookie cause he’s a piece of shit. And then casually solving the “genius” puzzles from across the room, she’s a treasure.

Yo-Yo Ma giving us a little lesson in classical music. This entire movie is a name drop.

Blanc in the bathtub on a zoom with Natasha Lyonne, Stephen Sondheim, Angela Lansbury, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. How the hell do they know each other? Did he solve cases for them? Does he know them through Phillip? And the hesitant denial when Phillip asks if he’s in the bath again is pure domestic excellence, that is his home now. 

As someone who worked retail throughout the pandemic, I had a visceral reaction to Birdie’s sparkly mesh “mask” (and then she has the audacity to say she can finally breathe again when she doesn’t have to wear it at the pool!?). With each mask and the way they’re wearing them (or not wearing them) we know exactly what kind of person each one of them is. Though I can’t quite figure out why Andi isn’t wearing one, either to facilitate the scene with that dramatic reveal or does Helen make the conscious decision to not wear it because Andi wouldn’t have worn it? Also high tech snap bracelets? Sure I guess. 

Approaching the island Lionel asks if the dock is a Bansky, and the captain says “piece of shit” and just lets him believe that’s the name of the island in greek. That shit is so funny. But also, wouldn’t having a glass dock be totally slippery and dangerous? Like I can just imagine his contractors telling him its dangerous and not advisable to have it set at low tide and him just being like I know more than you just do it my way!

The way Duke pimped out Whiskey to try to get Miles to do what he wants just kinda breaks my heart. It shows that he knows she’s smart and capable but the uncontrollable hurt on his face when he sees them hug is gut wrenching. I cannot believe I feel bad for this dude, Rian Johnson you are masterful.

The look on Miles’ face when he sees Andi arrive on the island and then when he sees her again after he shoots her is fucking priceless. It’s very ‘why won’t this bitch die?’ Either she chose not to tell him she had a twin sister or this is just another example of his stupidity. 

Derol. Just Derol. I saw someone else on here mention that he’s a personification of covid and it blew my mind. He’s always drinking Corona and saying ignore me I’m not here? Fucking genius. He almost accentuates the absurdity that is Miles Bron when he’s giving his little introduction speech and Derol walks through followed by the robot with everyone’s bags. I cackled!

Also I’ve never heard the term “flat tire” for an untied shoelace before and I will absolutely be using that from now on!

The hourly dong? Assigning rooms by chakra? His little bracelets and shit? Its screaming fake namaste bullshit.

Benoit is such a shady bitch for referring to the box as children’s puzzles having not really seen any of the puzzles because Helen smashed it. Easily one of my favorite moments in the whole movie. 

Jared Leto’s hard kombucha...

I’ve never met a person with a serious allergy, let alone deadly, that does not carry an epipen for emergencies, like wtf Duke? But that fancy lil gun you got there never leaves your side cause you never know what’s gonna happen right?

When Blanc tells Birdie “It’s a dangerous thing to mistake speaking without thought for speaking the truth” and her only takeaway is “Are you calling me dangerous?” Like girl if he is then he’s calling you dangerously stupid! Which is absolutely the truth.

Miles handing Peg a red solo cup is sending me through the roof. That motherfucker had to go out of his way to get that for her! There’s plenty of glassware in that room and he just had to give her a fucking plastic cup like she’s not worthy of anything more. I could’ve killed him right there for that tbh. 

The entire concept of Miles buying the Mona Lisa just because he can, and then installing his own override of the security built to preserve the most famous painting in the world which then becomes the reason it gets destroyed reminds me of Kim Kardashian ruining Marilyn Monroe’s dress for a fucking red carpet. She did it because she wanted to be associated with her, not out of love or respect for the actual piece of art. Don’t get me started about altering Michael Jackson’s clothes so her child can wear them. I’m not sure of the timeline but I think that was also something that happened after the movie was already done so I’m starting to wonder if Rian Johnson has some of that Simpsons prediction mojo.

I love how excited Blanc gets to reveal the mystery. Every time he is downright giddy, at least until he realizes how dumb Miles is which infuriates him because he hates dumb games.

Honestly building a literal glass onion on your own island because you miss you favorite bar where you met your friends and want to relive the glory days is one of the saddest and most pathetic billionaire antics I’ve ever seen. 

Why did Claire’s husband call her and she ignored it? Is that the moment he got the news about Andi’s death? But Duke doesn’t get the notification until after she leaves the room. 

I like how we’re constantly reminded of the Mona Lisa’s presence with the security door shutting in response to what’s happening in the room. It almost feels like an additional character. 

I just love how the second act starts at exactly the halfway point. It really satisfies my brain having so much time to go back and dig through all those glass layers.

Who’s out here thinking that Phillip is a professional baker with all that flour on his face?! That man is just doing his best in a pandemic with a partner that lives in a bathtub.

Janelle Monet is so fucking talented it hurts

I don’t like the way Birdie shouted at Andi on the boat that she shouldn’t be there. Like wtf. But I love when Birdie shows Peg the email and she immediately knows that Birdie didn’t actually mean any harm she is just so dumb she really thought sweatshops are just a place where they make sweatpants. Peg is a real one.

That little notebook stopped a whole bullet wtf?

Omg why can I feel that drop of hot sauce running down my face 

I really hope that after this at least some people start seeing through the lies and misdirection used by these billionaire con artists and politicians but I fear I may be asking too much of the general public. That’s why ben shapiro went on his little twitter tantrum about terrible writing or whatever. Like bro if you’re not smart enough to understand symbolism in cinema, especially when it’s literally spelled out for you step by step in this particular instance, then there’s this little thing called not saying anything at all. He just doesn’t want to be exposed for what he and others like him are actually doing. ~~misdirection~~

I’m sorry but if it were me I would’ve put that napkin in my pocket or something not just held it out for him.

Benoit Blanc really just gave Helen the tools to take that fucker down and just waited at the beach with Derol to watch it all burn. And finally smoke his cigar I’m so happy for him. 

If there’s one thing I respect about Birdie its the respect she has for these pieces of history being destroyed, even when Miles drops Paul Mccartney’s guitar on the beach she’s like so concerned and I feel that.

My take away from this is that I am already so excited for Knives Out 3, I could watch an infinite amount of these movies. 

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

It's been a little while since I've said this, so I'd like to repeat my recommendation that everyone immediately get the fuck of Twitter, and also Instagram and all those other things, and follow your favourite comedians only via their mail lists (I assume you all use Twitter only for following news of your favourite comedians - that's all I'd use it for, if I were on it, which I am not, it was a terrible website before Elon Musk and now it's even worse so a better time than ever to get out). If your favourite comedian does not have a mailing list, then they are primarily marketing themselves via world-ruining social media sites (and yes that is every social media site besides Tumblr, Tumblr is the only one where no one gets paid to spread Qanon theories or exploit their children, the few people on here doing that shit are at least doing it for free), and are therefore not worth being your favourite comedian. It's a tough principle to try to hold in 2023, but we all have to draw the line somewhere.

Anyway, I'm sort of half kidding about the above (I genuinely do not use any non-Tumblr social media and get my comedian news via mailing lists, genuinely think others should do the same, I have not yet managed to genuinely work out my life so I cut off everyone with a Twitter account), but I do enjoy the mailing lists. They're fun! Lots of comedians write them in character as their comedy personas, and you can get a nice email into your inbox that says "[famous comedian]" sent you a message! Mark Watson writes little sketches in his sometimes.

Anyway, got a fun one from Frankie Boyle today. He really does nail the aspect of writing his emails in character.

I'm going to read/listen to all of that. His novel that came out last year, Meantime, was really really good. Its biggest flaw was that sometimes that characters and the narration sounded a bit too much like mouthpieces of Frankie Boyle's views and comedy material. But as a big fan of Frankie Boyle's views and comedy material, I loved every moment of it (it wasn't that big a flaw, the characters did still work as characters, it was actually a good novel in addition to having a lot of interesting/funny Boyle-esque views and comedy material and just being a great read).

So I'm very pleased that he's writing a new book. Obviously I'm going to listen to that podcast. If anyone likes Frankie Boyle but hasn't heard his audio collection The Promethiad, I recommend it very highly. I've seen and enjoyed all his stand-up DVDs (I've also heard the Lap of Shame show that he's advertising in this email, it's worth watching if anyone has the opportunity), I loved his New World Order Show, his era of Mock the Week is a big guilty pleasure for me, like I said his novel was brilliant, but I still think the stuff collected in The Promethiad is the best stuff Frankie Boyle's ever done. So of course I'm going to listen to his new podcast, pretty much no matter what it is. It could turn out to be a history of the baked apple pie or some shit and I'd still listen.

Obviously Whiskey in the Jar is a great song, but I don't know how anyone can talk about Killarney around Christmas and associate that with anything except this:

That's 1998. I saw that same band live in October 2022 and they were brilliant. This post isn't about the Barra MacNeils, but they're a wonderful band that made one of my favourite Christmas albums ever.

[levitatingbiscuits]

I posted 7,384 times in 2022

176 posts created (2%)

7,208 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@glimmerglanger

@gffa

@doctrpepper

@forcearama

@twinterrors29

I tagged 512 of my posts in 2022

#fandom wank - 31 posts

#my writing - 22 posts

#anonymous - 22 posts

#ask meme - 11 posts

#pro jedi - 11 posts

#star wars hot takes - 9 posts

#pro jedi order - 8 posts

#fic idea - 8 posts

#sheev my beloved - 6 posts

#pro katara - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#but because boba is a maori man and fennec is an asian woman they dont give a shit that the objectively more boring character stole boba's

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I don't go here but I have been seized by the idea for an obikin au

OK so imagine: Obi-Wan and Anakin are celebrity actors. They run in totally different circles; Obi-Wan acts in dramas and arthouse films and keeps getting snubbed by awards ceremonies, but he's got a dedicated fanbase of cinephiles raving about his acting techniques and how he masterfully embodies every character etc. etc. He doesn't make a whole lot of money, but he's an ✨️artiste✨️

Anakin, meanwhile, is an action hero blockbuster star. He's the type who has a toxic and devoted Twitter standom, a cult of cringe nerdbros worshipping him a la Elon Musk or Keanu, a fuckton of RPF, the works.

Their fanbases HATE each other. They're convinced from the bottom of their hearts that the 2 are bitter rivals. They pore over interviews and tabloids for the slightest HINT of animosity. Obi-Wan had to private his Twitter account because of the barrage of hate from the Stanakins. Anakin has never been cast in anything artsy because all the auteurs are on Obi-Wan's side, so he's stuck doing Marvel movies and action franchises while Palpatine, Disney's greedy CEO, uses him as a dancing monkey.

The thing is, Obi-Wan barely knows the guy?? They were both discovered by Director Qui-Gon Jinn and acted in one film together (Anakin's debut as a child star), after which Obi-Wan got dropped from the mainstream like a hot potato, but he's not bitter about it. Sure, it would be cool to have a star on the Hollywood walk of fame and a mansion in Beverly Hills, but he's proud of his career (even if Palpatine's bought off everyone to ensure he NEVER gets an Oscar. Or a Golden Globe. Or a kid's choice award.)

Unbeknownst to him, Anakin's actually his biggest fan. Obi-Wan's the one who inspired him to get into acting, Anakin's seen all his films, he may or may not have posters from Obi-Wan's short-lived teen heartthrob phase, and Obi-Wan was so nice to him in the one family film they co-starred in when Anakin was a tot.

He's also stupid, and he's got Palpatine and Jinn in his ear, so he genuinely believes the tabloids and gossip blogs when they say Obi-Wan hates his guts. He's heartbroken, but he's sure not gonna SHOW it, so he lets people believe he hates Obi-Wan and does nothing to stop his fans from being awful to him. (He might even want to punish his favorite actor for not liking him back, because Obi-Wan said in an interview that he's never even watched Anakin's movies! EVERYONE'S seen Anakin's movies!! That's obviously a snub!!!)

(Obi-Wan hasn't even seen his own movies. Screens give him migraines.)

But everything comes to a head when ambitious young director Padmé Amidala casts them alongside each other, 10 years after their last film together...

783 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

#4

Reva lay perfectly still beside the cooling bodies of her crechemates, and tried very, very hard not to cry.

The clone troopers with blue paint on their armor were roving around throughout the fallen forms scattered like trash all over the temple. Occasionally, a blaster went off. The lightsabers, in contrast, had all long since gone quiet.

If they find me, Reva realized, they’re going to shoot me.

None of the clones were on the walkway anymore, at least not for the moment. They had seen Knight Skywalker swing at her, had seen her fall along with all her brothers and sisters. None of them noticed that his saber hadn’t cleaved all the way through her helmet; he’d swung too high. Maybe he was more used to killing people his own size.

Younglings weren’t a threat, not like knights or masters. She supposed that that’s why the clones were checking the grown-ups’ bodies first.

She slowly moved her arms underneath her, choking back a whine when her elbow hit something fleshy and crispy and small enough to roll away. She thought it might have been a piece of either Mirax or Phad, but she couldn’t bring herself to check who it belonged to.

Reva got on her hands and knees and crawled. Over Tane, around Muna, their eyes staring at her unseeing as she left them behind. She was slow, playing dead whenever the Force told her to, hiding in plain sight. She’d always won hide and seek when she played with her crechemates. All she had to do was find somewhere to hide, and then she’d be safe.

She didn’t know how long she crawled, inch by aching inch. Long enough that bluish predawn light was starting to show through the windows. It had been nighttime when the attack started, but before bedtime. She thought, for one detached, floating moment, that the commissary droids might be making breakfast right now, unaware that no one was coming.

Reva heard boots marching against the marble floor, mosaics scuffed with the remnants of deflected blaster shots, and froze, heartbeat rabbiting in her throat. A panel in the wall beside her opened; a cleaning droid, barely tall enough to reach her knees when she was standing, beeped frantically and corralled her into the network of tunnels throughout the temple that it and its brethren used to move around, then slammed the panel shut behind her. 

“What’s that?” said an indistinct voice from outside, slightly distorted by a helmet.

“Cleaning droid. Keep moving, trooper, we need to round up any traitors that might be hiding,” came an identical voice, and the boots she’d heard earlier marched away. 

The tunnels were cramped, but they were a great hiding place. She just had to go further in and no grown up would be able to reach her, because they wouldn’t fit. Especially not… him. He was too tall. He’d towered over her, in the few seconds he’d looked at her before he—

Reva started crawling again.

The tunnel came out in the nursery. She wished it hadn’t.

Most kids came to the Order after a few years, when their Force sensitivity started manifesting, but a lot of people left their newborns on the Temple steps if they couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of them. The babies weren’t always Force sensitive, but they needed a place to stay until the Jedi could find them an adoptive or foster family. So they stayed here.

Or they had.

Reva didn’t look too closely at the overturned cribs or the little bundles of blankets on the ground. She didn’t want to know if this had been Knight Skywalker’s doing or a clone’s. A lot of these kids never would have become Jedi, anyway, but they’d died just because the Jedi had cared for them when no one else would.

Reva heard a soft, frightened coo. She whipped around, and saw two huge eyes peering at her from inside a wastebasket in the corner. The baby squeaked and hid, the lid coming down as they ducked to hide.

“It’s okay,” Reva croaked. All at once, tears flooded her eyes. Someone else had survived. Another youngling had survived.

She crept over, knelt, and opened the wastebasket. She stuck her hand in, tentatively patting the little head. She carefully lifted the baby out when tiny clawed hands reached for her, frantically hushing him when his big dark eyes started to grow wet.

“Please, Grogu,” she implored, “You have to be quiet.”

Grogu was still a baby, but he was also almost 30 standard. He was the nursery’s longest resident by far. He’d only just begun to walk, which is most likely how he escaped the fate of the other infants; the clones hadn’t known any of them could do that yet. Grogu was supposed to move into the creche with the big kids and begin training with them in only a few months. Master Yoda had been so excited.

Knight Skywalker hadn’t known Grogu could walk, either; before last night, he’d avoided all the younglings like the plague. He’d been nicer when he was younger, but then he turned nineteen and something had changed.

“It’s all right,” Reva whispered, bouncing him slightly in her arms. “I’ll get us both out of here alive, I promise.”

915 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

#3

it’s so funny when people think cody is the boring clone trooper when cody literally body slams his metal opponents. cody is the MOST crazed he’s just a goddamn professional about it

2,284 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

#2

I love Mandalorians so much. They're all digging their own graves all the time and arguing about how this method of grave digging is much better than that OTHER guy's method of grave digging. Sometimes they get into wars with each other about whose grave is better. It never occurs to them to stop digging.

2,923 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Sometimes, when Luke wondered about his father, he thought he might have remembered him. Just a little bit.

He remembered warm arms holding him close. He remembered sad blue eyes. He remembered a hoarse voice swearing to watch over him.

He’d thought he made it up. First, because Uncle Owen had gruffly told him that he’d never met his father before he died, and then because he’d learned exactly who his father was and what he was doing during Luke’s childhood. An empire isn’t built in a day, after all.

But when he asked Leia about their mother and listened to her talk about remembering her face so clearly, he couldn’t help but wonder who that man with the bristly beard and the tired eyes had been.

3,805 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dailyindignation]

When being weak is actually strong

In late November 2023, freshly-elected New Zealand Prime Minister Christopher Luxon set up his cabinet, giving Melissa Lee the Media and Communications portfolio and appointing Penny Simmonds as Minister for Disability Issues.

Five months later, Luxon demoted the two women for being bad at those jobs. Shortly after, I tweeted this:

What a strange prediction, you might say. Surely the leader of the country appointing and then demoting two ministers with only himself to blame in such record time is a sign of that classic media canard – a "weak" and "chaotic" administration? Like, why did he appoint them in the first place? Does this very-inexperienced Prime Minister know what he's doing?

Ah, but you see, I'm not two months old, so I've seen our media do their thing. And if there's one thing that really turns the press gallery on, really gets them rock hard, it's a Strong Leader. Preferably one who's From The Business World. Because, despite being political reporters who report on politics, every single one of them down to their bones Fucking Hate Politicians. So when Business Man comes into power, you bet they'll take his every move as the next coming of Elon Musk (y'know, before they realised he was fascist).

But just in case you, a mere member of the public, might be inclined to look at the demotions and think "Hell, that looks a bit weak", the cavalry rode to the rescue:

Those are all just from the NZME stable of sycophants, too. They didn't even need to break out Mike Hosking or Heather du Plessis-Allan! No, no, the savvy pundits were there to tell you how you should feel. I think they think that's their job? Weird job. But anyway, RNZ, Newshub and The Post soon followed up with the exact same take:

These are all separate people with separate paychecks.

Okay, but that's ONE perspective. Surely the media also looked at it from the other side. What about that woke outfit The Spinoff, did they at least air the idea that the PM firing two ministers within 6 months wasn't a sign of strength and virility but actually a bit weak and messy?

Oh. Bad timing, Hayden!

But look, maybe all these political pundits and experienced journos are all singing from the same hymn book because that's the only tune? Like, if a Labour leader like Jacinda Ardern or Chris Hipkins demoted ministers during their tenure, then the media would portray those actions in the exact same way, right? That's what we want, right? Consistency? No bias? Demoting ministers = strength! If only we had some evidence that that's what they'd do--

Oh.

So how does this happen? Is it because the media is at its core a business, and business quite like strong, right-wing leaders because they'll "dismantle red tape" (i.e. remove regulations so they can get away with shit) and "cut costs" (i.e. ruin public services so private companies can step in), and those businesses, y'know, advertise in the financially-precarious media? Maybe. Sounds a bit conspiratorial, though. No one's outright telling Thomas Coughlan to frame his perspective to be business-friendly. He just naturally does. It's that age-old philosophical conundrum: are political reporters all conservative because that's how you rise to the top in that role? Or are conservatives drawn to be political reporters because they realise that's how you shape public opinion? We may never know.

Or maybe it's because the press gallery holds annual Zoom meetings to discuss what the narrative of the week is gonna be (accidentally, of course)? I mean, it would explain the hivemind that seems to occur all the time. I'm not sure why else direct competitors feel the need to get together and accidentally share their screens but I'm sure it happens in other industries-- ohwait I'm being told it doesn't.

With the media in such financial straits, there's been a lot of suggestions for how they can survive. May I propose a money-saving idea? Fire every political pundit. Let go of the entire press gallery. Replace them all with AI. They all have the same opinion anyway. Why are media orgs paying multiple people – more than anyone else on their payroll! – to say the exact same thing? It makes no financial or logical sense. Unless... is the overwhelming narrative forming the point? Could it be... that the media doesn't actually want to "analyse" the politics and explain what it all means to you? They just want to be smarter than you and tell you what it means? God, I hope not. That would be way harder to fix, and I hear the media has trust issues at the moment.

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

I'm all for locking away your fics if you want. But I have questions.

I know that artists are upset by the AI app that's going around lately where you can make the AI make an image in a certain artist's style or whatever. I can understand being upset by Joe Shmoe using an AI to make something and then saying that it's the same as if he'd drawn it himself. I get that.

And if this AI were making actual novels that made sense beyond a couple hundred words, I'd probably feel more threatened by it. Further, if it were writing novels in a certain author's style and someone was making money off of it, then I'd be very upset.

But that's not what it's doing. It's reading a whole lot of stuff it finds on the internet and then writing stuff based on everything it's read.

What's the difference between an AI doing this and another person? I mean, all writers are basically doing what this AI does... Before I started writing, I read all kinds of writing, and then took what I liked to add into my style.

And, from what I understand, it doesn't even do it that well. It can't hold a storyline together to save its virtual life. It only stays cohesive for a few hundred words. And it doesn't write without a prompt.

I'm also looking at this from the same angle that I have to view my photography, though. Chris Schmelke (of Creation con fame) once said that he doesn't watermark his images because, "Once they're on the internet, they're already stolen." Writing is harder to "steal" than images, but we've seen enough cases of plagiarism in the fandom, whether it's a story stolen word for word or just retold using slightly different words, that we're not immune to it.

How is this AI scraping our writing any different than any other writer reading our works and then using the parts they like to write a new story?

And this isn't even that. This is an AI being given an equation and the AI spitting out the most likely solution based on all of the equations it's seen before. That's why any mention of Steve results in an answer with Tony or Bucky. It's also why it can't write for shit, because stories are more than equations.

The only sticking point I can see is that someone is making money off what this AI produces, by the word. It's always annoying when someone takes your work, which you know you can't make money off of, and then makes money off of it. Take it from someone who's watched scam accounts sell photos taken at Creation cons (where we do NOT have permission to sell the photos we take there). It's galling to see someone get away with something that's wrong. However, that's not really what's happening here, either. This AI isn't "writing" a story that's eerily similar to a fan fiction story someone wrote and selling it. It's selling the answer to the question, "I've written the beginning of a story. Based on this beginning, what would most of the writers in the world write next?" (Can't say I would pay money for that answer, myself.)

The bottom line for me, I think, is that when I post something on the internet, it's out there for people to steal, already. Do I maybe want to prevent Elon Musk specifically from stealing it? Maybe. He's a douche. Do I think there's anything I can really do to prevent him from stealing it, no matter what I do? Nope. If he REALLY wants my stuff, he'll make the AO3 account he needs to access my stuff and then scrape it, anyway. (Please don't come back with how this wouldn't work. He's a douche and douches always find a way to be a douche.)

I do want to hear serious arguments about this, though, because maybe I'm wrong? Maybe I don't have all the facts? Please tell me if you think I'm wrong in my feeling that once I publish my works, if someone really wants to steal them, they will find a way. If I'm wrong that this isn't just another case of whatever you put out there into the public domain isn't yours, anymore. I want to hear from you!

I love it when anons/guests find my works and kudo/leave reviews, but given the new revelation that Elon Musk is using bots to mine AO3 fanfiction for a writing AI without writer's permission, my works are now archive-locked and only available for people with an AO3 account.

[rottenbrainstuff]

BG3 playthrough - Gortash

Mega spoilers below the cut

Finally, finally, I got to the audience with Gortash. I’m happy for the girlies that are in love, I love Jason Isaacs and I’m glad they’ve hired top knotch voice actors for the baddies in this game, but damn my friends, he does nothing for me. He looks like a moldy potato. As I said before, he looks like he smells like a hangover covered up with Axe spray. Sorry!

Despite that, he’s a very interesting character. I really liked the little group of NPCs outside fanboying about him inventing the Steel Watch - someone points out it was the Gondians who actually invented the Steel Watch, and Gortash just financed it, and someone else argues, no, it was Gortash who invented it - which he absolutely didn’t. Reminded me of Elon Musk and how everyone thought he was such a fucking genius, when all he did was purchase companies and pay other researchers. I loved that parallel.

So DAMN. This scene is very different for a dark urge. Man I felt so sorry for Karlach - she thinks she’s going to walk up and have this big face to face with her ex friend, and Gortash doesn’t even have words for her - instead he welcomes back his favourite assassin, and that’s me. I loved Karlach’s WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?? reaction, because same girl, same. Absolutely fucking WILD for a resisting durge to learn, you know, not only do they have these horrible murderous urges, not only do we have this nasty little butler man trying to force us to gruesomely kill people, not only did something horrible happen to us that wiped clean all our memories, NOT ONLY ARE WE A GODDAMNED BHAALSPAWN and leader of the goddamned bhaal cult, NOT ONLY ALL OF THIS, no, that wasn’t enough, oh no: now we learn we were also one of the original architects of the Absolute plot, removed only when Orin saw an opportunity to displace us. Damn, damn, damn. What a wild fucking ride. My poor tav.

The writing here and dialogue choices I found were a bit funky, rather like a bad DM that is trying too hard to nudge the player into the result they want, without really understanding what the player naturally wants to do. It was very odd how the dialogue kept offering me options to see if Gortash was telling the truth. Reassurances and reassurances. But you know what? My durge doesn’t CARE if Gortash is telling the truth. Lies, truth, it doesn’t matter, I am disgusted by what I just learned. I might agree not to pound Gortash into paste right this particular second, because Wyll’s dad as well as an entire audience and compliments of guards are right there, but I am NOT, NOT saying that I agree to any fucking alliance??? Well the Emperor says he’s telling the truth. Well I can read his body language to see if he’s telling the truth. Well I can use detect thoughts to see if he’s telling the truth. I DO NOT CARE IF HE IS TELLING THE TRUTH. In fact if he’s being sincere that almost makes the situation worse. It was so bizarre. I feel like maybe this dialogue was designed mostly with a non-durge in mind, who probably hates Gortash a lot less at this point? Maybe?

Anyways whatever, we got to a point where I agreed not to go straight to combat, but I still feel like I expressed my disgust in a mostly satisfactory way, so whatever. Whatever.

What happens AFTER that is also pretty fun. The three companions you just brought along to the coronation have now all just seen you are not only a Bhaalspawn, but you were one of the three who started all of this horrible shit in the first place!!! They all have very very interesting reactions (and as far as I am able to tell - the reaction is the same whether or not you chose to tell them you are a bhaalspawn ahead of time. My particular tav told no one but Astarion).

Karlach’s reaction hurt the most. She was furious, absolutely furious to find out I used to work with Gortash and that I used to lead the Bhaal cult. She says she isn’t sure she trusts I’m not still a bad guy, and she needs time - a lot of time - to think about it. Her reaction is TOTALLY VALID, it absolutely is, but it still stings, holy shit. I actually reloaded to see if there was anything I could do to make her less mad - but nothing helps. Augh. Karlach I am so sorry, I’m so sorry….

Gale was similarly angry. The reaction is valid but it hurts, it hurts…

Shadowheart’s reaction was bugged, at least for me. After the ceremony she had no reaction at all, just her regular conversation dialogue. That’s too bad, I was curious to see what she said.

Lae’zel has no additional dialogue, she will only say what she says if you tell her yourself that you’re a bhaalspawn: that it makes sense, because you are murderous and also annoying, lol.

Halsin is surprised, but not in a… “I had no idea you were actually a piece of shit this whole time” way, and more of a “shit I guess this just shows that we need to be careful and not take anything for granted” way.

Jaheria (who has no dialogue to tell her you’re a bhaalspawn) is concerned, but tells herself that doubting each other only benefits Gortash. She also asks for some time to think, but it’s less of a rude “I need time to think about how I’m ever going to look at your disgusting face again” and more of a “I need time to decide what is the best strategy to take now” way.

Wyll as always is a rock-solid friend. He’s mostly thinking about his father, understandable, and tells me again the story of the bhaalspawn who went on to become a hero.

And as before, as always, Astarion has the very best reaction, really shocked me actually, because I never thought about it like that. He starts off quite accusatory and I was prepared to have my heart broken - “You! You’re the one behind all this!” Ugh. It was hurting my heart. What will I do if Astarion is angry? Then he flips it into a joke as always, laughs and says he admits he’s impressed. But THEN… he THANKS me, he thanks me for being that evil bastard, because if it wasn’t for the Absolute plot and the nautiloid snatching people, he’d still be locked away in Cazador’s kennel. He THANKS me. I was so… surprised. I never really thought of it like that. Bhaal-cult-leader-tav frees Astarion. Extremely indirectly, but still. Man. My heart was hurting from Karlach’s reaction, everyone is freshly suspicious of me at worst and pitying at best, and why wouldn’t they be, I deserve every bit of it, and here’s Astarion, fucking THANKING me. Just. Wow. His support is so amazing, has been for this whole arc. I know people were grumpy that the dark urge writer wrote (honestly only a small amount of) extra content for Astarion interactions but didn’t have time to give the same attention for the other companions, but it’s not even the extra content that makes Astarion so amazing in a dark urge run. It’s his unique perspective and the place that he’s coming from and his surprising and unwavering support. It’s kind of like how Gale is uniquely supportive of a tav that becomes a mindflayer, it’s a sweet little special character piece. As things just keep get worse and worse for my resisting durge, I’m appreciating Astarion’s support more and more.

Back at camp, there’s the Orin kidnapping blah blah blah. The companion taken can be Lae;zel, Gale, or Halsin, but Lae’zel’s scenario is the only one that really makes any kind of sense at all…. What does Halsin losing control in the city or Gale wanting to blow up his orb have to do with anything? Lae’zel trying to convince you someone else in camp is the imposter and murder them makes much more sense. Afterwards, Gale says we should carefully consider Orin’s terms, no matter how distasteful it may be. Distasteful?..? What an odd comment. I’m 100% going to obliterate Gortash, was already making plans for that, nothing at all to do with Orin. “Distasteful” nothing, killing Gortash and confronting Orin was the plan all along. How odd.

Now I’m in the lower city, and it’s fucking shredding my poor shitty computer. We’ll see how this goes. Astarion went a bit nuts shopping for clothes at Carm’s Garms, and my tav is now wearing a ridiculous embroidered thing in black and blue and silver and looks like a mariachi. NPCs everywhere, as far as the eye can see, and even on the lowest graphics settings my poor mac is chugging along.

[covenlegacy]

Also there's one thing why does she become so defensive everytime someone questioned her like you can't even handle a simple question, you start using cuss words but then you have guts to talk shit about someone you don't know and even if someone tried to help you , you again talk shit about them (just like that tarot reader who decided to help you ) so clearly Don't need help you just like the negative attention you get everyday here.

I am not only pissed off by your statements towards him but also because of your behaviour towards other girls here. Can't you talk like a normal girl do you really need to say cuss words after every sentence if you don't need their help say it.

If you don't like their opinion say it but why you talk with such negativity, you making this blog so toxic like i can't explain

coven is actually a nice person they definitely have a patience of a rock to handle your bs everyday, that's commendable.

No wonder why no man has ever loved you(as you said in your ask previously), with this personality nobody will ever be your friend let alone choosing you as a love intrest.

Well am i being mean ? Does it hurt you? What about same thing you have doing for month here.

I don't understand one thing why somebody else's life has anything to do with you, why him being toxic (let's just assume for a sec he is) has anything to do with you he is not going to date you, why him having everything trigger you , and why Elon Musk never triggered you the same, coz you clearly Don't make scenario in your head about him right. You only does that with jk but then you see the reality that you can never have him so you you start hating him.

I have seen girls like you a lot but I never said anything bad about anyone ever cause it's not their fault they love him and it's nobody's fault there nothing wrong in loving someone wishing them to be your forever, if not for jk all of us at least once in our feel this way for someone and it's okay but hating them and spreading misinformation with no evidence to back up your statement is not okay.

You really wanted to talk to coven talk all day in DM if you want to talk in ask do that you are free to do whatever you want but don't bring him into your covo with the intent of making him the bad guy.

When he did nothing, what do you want him to do leave everything and start staying on Streets does it make you happy, do want him to feel miserable as you does it make you feel better then,but let me tell you he will still reject you even in his worst situation because nobody like toxic people like you.

And one last thing even if he did a live at his home he is still the same person it doesn't change anything about him.

And he probably have a gf and will get married one day but you will stay at the same place with same mentality where you were in 2021 (you are still there) if you don't change your behaviour. This will probably be my last ask. And i have said this before I don't have any hard feelings towards you or anyone in any way, do whatever you want but don't blame him or spread negativity about him for your shitty life.

.

[dwagom]

elon musk's illegal mass-firing really just fits the pattern that has so many characteristics that it's hard to decide where to begin

he's counting on the phenomenon of techbro star power to provide him with a shell of impunity while he, well, does this shit. this is typical megalomaniac behaviour, he's trod deep already into the dark forest of negative hinge, and with the rare exception, whoever goes in never comes out. the sycophantism of silicon valley and him being given sucky by media every time he'd release some kind of brainfart boosted the process of his mental decay while at the same time absolutely conforming to everything he says in the most grovelling way possible: even the financial fucking times had an op-ed on the basis of his tweet "thinking of x - the everything app" which probably illustrates the gulf between the man's intellect (nonexistent) and the sway that he commands. he's a spoiled, entitled rich kid who never grew up and who at some point started believing his own lies (which is what grifters and cult-leaders inevitably do given enough time), really the man's just a mess of earnest belief in his own lies and a cynical disbelief in them, yet there's not really any cognitive dissonance in that, since that requires having a standard of truth that he does not possess. skum's worst impulses were further fed and his mental decay further accelerated by becoming the richest man in the world at one point surrounded by people who could get all the funding that they wanted from him by telling him what he wants to hear, again the sycophantism that happens both in person and in media coverage

i'd say that elon musk is on a path towards a spectacular self-destruction whose main act is already long past started but hasn't really yet gone into any higher gear. most people would think that zuckerberg would be the main act, torching everything that facebook has ever bought and built (mostly bought) in order to make the metaverse -- a mere ego-playground -- real, while doing fucking nothing when his company's market value plunges by 70%. chaos, vanity, neglect, 38 users. how many of those people did it to post a video saying "i put on the metaverse goggles so that you don't have to"? at least one, from what i'd seen in my recommendations on youtube, so we're talking at least 2,6% of the userbase being there with no other purpose but to dissect a multibillion-dollar turd from the inside. the metaverse is like a ghost of steam greenlight, and faceboo- i mean me- just kidding, facebook is now known as the digital homicide of social media, only without the pathetic frivolous lawsuits (yet)

anyways, back to elon musk's spectacular ruination: elon musk is in an interesting position, historically speaking. he has bought out the second-biggest piece of social media at an agreed price higher than the one it would've gotten on the market. he did this by very likely going into debt, further establishing a pool of money with contributors to whom being connected is anywhere between "cagey" and "outright compromising", this followed with calls for serious inquiry already cropping up. all this in order to buy out a site that was losing money for years and that enjoyed an unimaginable amount of good will and latitude with advertisers, although also one that was already visibly past its prime even before he'd made public that he'd been considering actually buying twitter. a decaying site that was so broadly used even if it had failed to mature meets a decaying psyche that prompted broad cultish adulation even if it had failed to mature; not a more perfect cocktail of accelerants to pour on the funeral-pyre of an era that's imploding in front of us right now as i write this and you read this. musk has gone so far in expenses just to get twitter, and now he's wearing rhinestone gloves snapping its neck while not understanding the full implications of himself disambiguating it to the world that he's been even less than a regular rich arsehole, but a potemkin man all the way down whose only forte was pretending that he was the exact opposite of the vacuum he not-was and of what he not-did. the musk-skeptics and his hatedom had naturally known this throughout; but the people who are truly subjected to the current unwinding of an ill-deserved reputation are the people who have never had an opinion of him and the muskian True Believers, specifically those who are undergoing a healthy disillusionment.

musk is making himself the same playground out of twitter that the zuck made himself out of facebook, on the basis of the same childish and facile beliefs and ideas about his own popularity, intellect, capacity, role in society. he is also making himself the same kind of utter fucking idiot, publicly, as the zuck; at every step he strangles the bird a little more, and commensurately becomes a laughing-stock and an anger-magnet, correspondingly with the poetics of terminality at the end of the algorithmic recommendation's era: the anger's authentic, personal, direct, ongoing, legitimate, hence the opposite of algorithmic. every day since he'd taken over twitter, he'd bang his fist on the table at least once a day to show that he's a Serious Man making a Serious Decision to signal that he is awaiting his habitual tithes of adulation that used to come with every public stunt, and especially the ones that failed. instead the vibration goes back up his arm, shoulder, neck, into his spoiled idiot skull, and knocks another venomous gobbet of the rotting public persona off his face. behind it we see a man less creative than a mid-00s sonic recolor (and definitely without any participatory impulse that comes with making one either), less intellectual than an episode of the annoying orange from 2012, completely unprincipled, so barren of a sense of humour, and also of the faculties of self-reflection and self-control that the only thing he knows how to do when made fun of for shuttering accounts that made fun of his hypocrisy regarding the freeze peach is to shutter those accounts and further demonstrate his hypocrisy regarding the freeze peach. he is an icon of inadequacy no matter the perspective on him and, despite the incidence of outward appearances, a perfect overlap with his platform's community of baby-talking alt-irght fashoes

his capacity for showmanship is going down the john, he's in catastrophic debt after buying what was a financial garbage-fire to begin with while getting money from people whom he shouldn't've held hands with at all, while coasting on financial inertia at the tail-end of a decade-long rehashed dot-com bubble that created him and will take him with it. twitter and him were both separately doomed, but by buying twitter he's managed to seal both of those fates and pull off the world's first career-suicide-by-company-murder-by-financial-suicide. he will not, in retrospect, only represent the end of an era of ruthlessly algo-based social media, data-siphoning and an oligopolistic skinner-box internet, but he has likely stumbled himself spontaneously into the position from which he will have likely caused that end. he's made himself a mountain of fireworks just so that he could play with matches on top of it because he can't help himself but push his luck, covered in all the regalia of the post-GFC gilded age's QE-based tech-and-everything-else megabubble -- tesla, spacex, now twitter as well, rampant accounting fraud, unfathomable hills of leveraged debt, surveillance capitalism, techbro impunity, a cultish following, the speculative economics of hype and hot air and mass stupor, being the richest man in the world, selling mirages of martian colonies to people who've lost all touch with reality out of sheer greed, getting away with """""self-driving"""""" people-cooking lithium-torches while commanding an army of followers who are willing to endanger their own kids to prove that the "self-driving works", no shortage of scandal that causes praise instead of outrage, thriving in an atmosphere where late-capitalist brainrot demands that the masses accept blatant and impermissible lies as basic truth, and absolutely every other pathological symptom that had blossomed since the dot-com bubble belongs on this list because this man, like they're pokemon, really caught them all. his demise will be spectacular and an end of an era. he himself made sure of that.

[lastoneout]

I've seen a few people adding comments like this so I just wanna say:

1) I wasn't only talking about people saying kys to famous bigots and billionaires, I was talking about how people will go around telling randos online with basically no platform that they should kill themselves and then act like they're making the world a better place. Telling randomterf856 or whoever to kill themselves isn't doing anyone any good and pretending that it is is the whole problem.

2) Even in when it's directed at Ben Shapiro or Elon Musk or whoever, they are never going to see those posts. You are having absolutely no impact on them in any way. But you know who you are impacting? Suicidal people and people who have lost their loves ones to suicide who are triggered by seeing everyone throw around those words like they're nothing. Those people exist, I've had them in my notes for weeks now talking about how it makes progressive spaces hostile for them. How it triggers their intrusive thoughts and gives them anxiety attacks. Reminds them of going through some of the most horrible experiences a person can face. Hell, I have trauma around suicide and that's part of what motivated this post! I hate seeing that shit too! The rich, powerful shitheads will never see or be harmed by your kys message. The vulnerable people around you who you should care about protecting will.

3) Again, just wanna stress that even if it wasn't harming suicidal people and their friends/family, it's doing absolutely fuck all to make the world a better place. Those guys likely won't even see your message, and even if they do they won't care. They probably get hundreds of messages like that. It's not even a blip on the radar to them. Which is why it's NOT activism. You are doing absolutely nothing to help anyone. That's what I was talking about. Confusing this with activism is a problem, and your time could be better spent in a hundred different ways that actually result in noticeable change.

Imo the real "flaccid ass activism" as you put it in your tags is sitting around and pretending hurling violent language at people who will never see it while ignoring the vulnerable people who actually ARE hurt by your words. You think we should start throwing bricks? Well get out there and do it then, or even better get out there and show up at your city council meetings and rallies and drag brunches and story times, help people register to vote or organize rides to the polls on election day for people who don't have reliable transportation, volunteer at a food bank or a queer community center, call your representative, give money to homeless people, start a community garden, fuck it run for local office, just do SOMETHING bcs spending your time sending anon hate to rich men ain't the same. Not by a long shot.

Honestly, I do think the world would be a better place without these people and I will celebrate their eventual deaths bcs fuck 'em, but I can tell the difference between that and actually doing something to help people. It isn't "tenderqueer" shit to point out how this behavior harms trauma survivors and people with mental illnesses and their families, many of whom ARE QUEER, and how it's also an empty excuse for real activism that does nothing to help anyone, and your time could be better spent actually making real change instead.

But whatever. I'm sure you epically owned Ben Shapiro. I bet he's actually thinking about killing himself this time. Good job.

the whole guilt-tripping language in posts about important topics paired with how I'm still getting bitches in my notes talking about why it's actually good to tell "bad" people to kill themselves continues to prove to me that a lot of people have absolutely no concept of social justice or activism outside of assuming the worst of and then viciously attacking strangers on the internet

[redhoodieone]

You’re so Lucky!

A/N: Hey y’all! Here’s another sexy story that was a request from the amazing @jasontoddslut! Enjoy my peeps!

Warnings: Language, Bad Relationship with Ex-Boyfriend, Smut, Voyeurism, and Jason’s Goddamn Dirty Mouth!!!!!

It was bound to happen. She couldn’t deny this was going to happen sooner rather than later. If she believed they that they could get through their issues and be happy like they once were, then she’s a real fucking idiot.

Gabi still couldn’t believe it though. One minute she was trying to calm Bobby down and the next, he’s screaming at her and telling her to get the fuck out of his apartment. He was in a bad mood to begin with. He’s a mechanic and he’s always tired when he gets home. He was expecting dinner to be ready and maybe have his loving girlfriend of three years rub his back since his shoulder pain is getting worse.

But no. Gabi made the mistake of asking Bobby where he was tonight as soon as he got home.

What set him off was her telling him to calm down. She should have known though.

You should NEVER. EVER. Tell an easily angry guy to calm down.

Because that’s like telling fire to not burn people. Or telling a baby to not cry.

She should have known better though. It’s no surprise Bobby’s into some serious shady shit that the low life Gothamites meet up sometimes at night in casinos or nightclubs. She knows they do illegal shit like selling drugs, ordering weapons from other countries, and maybe even kidnapping young women and children.

And Bobby had participated in the ordering weapons category.

How Gabi found out is another story: she knows for damn sure that Bobby once brought home fifteen state of the art total militia AK-47 guns. Bobby had foolishly asked Gabi to go get some important documents from his huge safe; totally forgetting the weapons were in there about five months prior.

Why would a normal mechanic need such weapons?

Gabi had decided to never bring it up. Bobby would either deny or lie about it. His temper had been getting worse right about then and she knew better.

But he wasn’t always like this. Oh, no. Bobby was a funny, laid back, and loving type who worshipped the ground Gabi walked on before they even started dating. But after two years of living with each other, things changed.

Simple as that. Things changed.

Gabi always wondered how things could just...change. So easily. The fact that it could happen in the blink of an eye frightens her sometimes.

Just like Bobby’s hidden anger. She never knew a hilarious and sweet guy could have the rage of a bull.

Bobby never hit her though. He always made sure to slam his fist against the wall beside her head, though. He was the type to yell and belittle Gabi as if she was a little girl.

But she wasn’t a little girl. She was a 23-year-old woman who moved in with her boyfriend so fast that she began to understand why her parents and friends disapproved of her choices and relationship.

I just had to learn the hard way, Gabi thought to herself.

She doesn’t know why she’s trying to think of sayings that relate to this experience. The point is, Gabi knows she seriously fucked. With Bobby only giving her ten minutes to pack whatever truly mattered to her, she had to hurry the fuck up.

The moment she made it outside the apartment building, all Gabi could do is replay her questions that she asked Bobby.

Where were you tonight?

Were you with someone?

What did you do?

Why can’t you tell me what you did?

Are you hiding something from me?

Are you getting into dangerous things?

No wonder Bobby kicked her out. Gabi should have never put her nose in his business. And now, she’s practically homeless. She knows it would be embarrassing as hell to go back to her parents’ house because of what they told her before getting involved with Bobby. She also knows her friends would treat her horribly, with the “I told you so” stares and lectures. Gabi was certainly running out of options just as the rain began to fall.

There was one person she could go to, who would never turn her away.

However, Gabi hasn’t spoken to this person in about a year because of her relationship with Bobby as well as this person’s own relationship with their significant other.

But Gabi knew Y/N was a good person, a good friend. She was a sweet person, with a big warm heart and she would never turn her away.

With nowhere else to go, Gabi walked alone in the rain all the way down to high class side of Gotham.

By the time Gabi gets to the high-class penthouses, she has to call Y/N to let her inside. Of course, Y/N excitedly tells her to come up, and Gabi immediately starts to feel somehow relieved that Y/N hasn’t changed at all.

As Gabi finally makes it to the correct floor, she sees Y/N waiting by the door, where Gabi assumes is where Y/N lives. Y/N is wearing a red and black flannel pajama pants and a thin black tank top. Gabi also notices Y/N’s barefoot, and her hair’s in a messy bun.

She must have just woken up. I’m so sorry, Y/N, Gabi thinks to herself.

But none of that matters when Y/N meets Gabi halfway in the hall where they collide in a tight, warm-hearted embrace.  Y/N smells like a woodsy, musky cologne, most likely from whoever she’s seeing with now. Maybe they were snuggling up against with each other until Gabi had called and asked if she could come over.

“Come inside. You must be freezing!” Y/N says, releasing Gabi from her hug and pulling her arm towards the front door.

Gabi follows on shaky legs, completely overwhelmed by seeing her longtime best friend. Y/N giggles and leads Gabi inside the penthouse. Gabi instantly is hit by the aroma of vanilla and musk, the smell of intimacy and seduction.  Her eyes take in the red and black walls and décor, some exquisite art pieces, and the big space that is more comfortable and warmer than most homes she’s ever seen.

“Welcome, mi casa es tu casa! Seriously Gabi, babe, make yourself at home. There’s absolutely no rush to leave. You leave when you’re ready, okay?” Y/N says seriously.

“Are you absolutely sure? I really don’t want to impose or put you and your boyfriend out,” Gabi confesses.

Y/N leads Gabi to the long, cherry red couch that is facing a huge flat screen TV. Gabi sets down her duffle bag and takes a seat next to Y/N on the couch.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Jay and I insist you stay here until you figure out what you want to do, okay?” Y/N says, before she turns around to get comfortable to face Gabi.

A vanilla candle is lit on the coffee table. Gabi’s cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I didn’t...interrupt something, did I?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t! I was just setting the mood in the living room to be more...comfy,” Y/N admits, with a chuckle. “Jason just got home a few minutes ago and is taking a shower. He should be done by now.”

As if on cue, they hear someone walking down the hall and towards the living room. He stops near the couch. There in all his glory, well half-naked glory, stands Jason Todd, God’s greatest creation of man...at least that’s what both girls were thinking.

“Gabi, this is Jason, my boyfriend,” Y/N proudly introduces Jason to Gabi. “Jay, this is Gabi, my best friend in the whole wide world.”

Still dripping wet and fresh out of the shower, Jason at least has a white towel wrapped around his waist; hiding his goods that Gabi wanted to see so desperately. He’s really tall, must be 6’2 or something close to that. She takes note that Jason is all man: there’s absolutely nothing that screams “boy”. Gabi inhales hard when she watches his large hand run through his soaked dark hair. The other hand holds the towel tightly around his hips.

“Hi,” Jason smirks at Gabi. She notices his eyes are green, almost like emeralds. He smiles at her, even his white teeth are perfect. “So, you’re Gabi. Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

“She-she has?” Gabi chokes out. Why is it so hot in here? Why can’t she speak?

Her eyes zero in on the droplets of water running down his strong as fuck built chiseled chest and perfectly sculpted abs that she really wants to lick and bite his skin.

Holy fuck...

Gabi scolds herself for thinking such inappropriate thoughts about her best friend’s boyfriend. Even though Gabi’s never fantasized Bobby this kind of way, she realizes Y/N’s lucked out. Bobby wasn’t in shape or even remotely attractive like Jason.

“Of course, she has. You’re one of her best friends, and I’m happy to finally meet you. I would go over there to shake your hand and properly greet you, but I’m uh...not exactly dressed yet,” Jason chuckles, and almost seems shy now. “I’m gonna go get dressed real quick so we can talk.”

You don’t have to. You can stay the way you are. You can even drop the towel, Gabi thinks improperly.

Y/N smiles softly at Jason as they watch him leave. True to his word, Jason returned in a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt and took a seat next to Y/N. Throughout their comfortable and pleasant conversation, Gabi truly sees the way Jason cares about her best friend. Midway through their talk about what happened to Bobby, Jason clearly was paying attention and rubbed caressed Y/N’s thigh when Gabi recounted the latest scary fight with Bobby. Whenever Y/N looked shocked or worried, Jason made sure to calm her down through touches, forehead kisses, and whispers words along the lines of love, probably.

It almost makes Gabi jealous. Y/N’s life is clearly so much better than what Gabi had going on for herself. Jason seems like the perfect gentleman; always does and says the right thing. Gabi’s never seen a man pay so much attention to a woman before. Not only did he offer Gabi his advice and opinions on getting a better and more affordable apartment on their street, but Jason even voiced his hatred for Bobby, and even went on to criticize the man for treating women so poorly. He even made a joke about finding the man and breaking his legs; making Gabi and Y/N laugh their asses off and making the energy around them fun again.

But for some reason, Gabi couldn’t help but notice that Jason wasn’t laughing as hard as she and Y/N were. It almost seemed like Jason was serious about breaking Bobby’s legs, but Jason wouldn’t do that. She was sure of it.

He wouldn’t, would he?

By the time midnight came, the three of them stood up and decided to go to bed. Jason even surprised Gabi by giving her a hug and telling her that she can stay in their guest bedroom for however long as she wants and needs.

“I’m serious, kid. Don’t even worry about it. You mean so much to Y/N, and so therefore, you mean a lot to me, too,” Jason had said as he pulled back from their hug.

Gabi was speechless to say the least. She didn’t want the hug to end. He felt so good in her arms and he smelled so fucking good.

But it was bedtime now, and once Y/N and Jason had shown Gabi the guest bedroom, they went off to bed to let Gabi get comfortable. It wasn’t long for Gabi to quickly clean herself up and put on some plain pajama shorts with a tank top. As soon as she turned off the light, she was amazed by how big and comfortable the bed was. She figured it must be new and is probably the first person to sleep in here. In just a few minutes, exhaustion took over and Gabi fell into a deep sleep.

Her throat was dry. That’s what awoke Gabi at two in the morning and made her climb out of bed and go search for a bottle of water. She made sure to tiptoe out of the room and walk slowly and quietly to the kitchen.

As soon as Gabi made it to the end of the hallway, she stops dead in her tracks when she hears moaning. A woman moaning.

Her mind registers that it’s Y/N moaning. But why is she moaning in the living room?

Curiosity forces Gabi to peek out into the living room and see what’s going on, despite the logical part in her mind is screaming at her to have some respect for her best friend and her boyfriend.

But being a pervert outweighs being a prude.

Gabi is utterly shocked to her core when she sees her best friend straddling Jason’s lap. On the red couch where they sat a couple of hours ago, Gabi sees Y/N and Jason making out heavily. She couldn’t unsee it; she wants to keep watching them.

Gabi even sees the vanilla candle is lit again, after Jason had blown it out before they all went to bed.

But all Gabi could see is Jason’s fingertips digging hard into Y/N’s exposed flesh from where her tank top is pushed up above her bare tits. Y/N shamelessly moans in between the evident delicious kisses, and grinds against Jason’s apparent bulge.

Gabi quickly notices an isolated leather recliner that’s against the wall near the hallway. She throws herself down, sinks into the chair and watches the practically live porno show in front of her.

Jason pulls back from the deep kiss, revealing his red, swollen lips from where Y/N’s been biting and sucking since the beginning. He rests his head back against the couch and looks up with hazy, lustful eyes as Y/N grins down at him. She bites her bottom lip and pulls up her tank top, removing her top completely from her body.  

“Fuck...what the hell are you doing to me, sweetheart?” Jason asks breathlessly. He runs his hands up Y/N’s back and moves them to her front where he reaches for both her tits.

“I’m slowly...and softly killing you,” Y/N says, closing her eyes and moans when Jason gently grabs both her tits in his hands; her breasts fill his hands perfectly.

“I’d say...” he says, before sighing contently when switches from pinching her nipples to squeezing her tits before he sits up straighter and pulls Y/N’s body closer to lick and suck her sensitive nipples.

“Oh, fuck...oh Jay...feels so good,” Y/N moans louder than before. She whimpers and continues to rub herself against him. “I need to cum...please make me cum, Jay...”

Jason pulls back from her chest and gazes into Y/N’s eyes. “You wanna cum, doll? Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, please...I need you so bad!”

“No, I don’t think you need to cum,” Jason teases, before he pulls off his own t-shirt. “Now, I’m going to take off the rest of your clothes, but if you touch your pussy, I ain’t going to fuck you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Y/N snaps. Her cheeks are flushed from being aroused.

Jason smirks at Y/N’s frustration.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart. I’m going to check how wet you are,” Jason explains, as he raises Y/N off his lap to pull down her pajama pants and panties; leaving her completely bare on his lap. “If you’re soaking wet, then I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be feeling me for days. But if I have to make you wet, then that means I get to do whatever I want to this pussy.”

“But-”

Jason runs his hand up Y/N’s thigh until his fingers glide over her bare pussy. His fingers gently push inside her, he can feel the wetness, but wants to see it for himself.

“Stand up and put your pussy in my face,” he demands.

“What?”

“I want to taste your delicious pussy right now. Don’t make me get up and literally put you on my shoulders to eat you out,” Jason threatens.

Y/N slowly moves to stand up carefully on the couch. Her legs are shaking, but Jason quickly grabs her to hold her steady. He doesn’t waste any time, and he dives into her pussy as if he’s a starving man.

“Oh fuck!” Y/N cries out.

Jason’s tongue on her clit is what she wants the most right now. He squeezes her thigh and flicks his tongue side to side until Y/N fears she’s either going to fall back or fall over him.

Y/N notices one of Jason’s pull up bars is above her. How convenient.

She grabs a hold of the bar to hold herself up just as he decides to slip a finger inside her. Holding herself up allows him to remove a hand from her thigh. He takes the opportunity to slip another finger inside and pumps them in and out fast.

Y/N’s body trembles when Jason curls his fingers and strokes the sensitive wall that he’s mastered so well. He can tell she’s close. She must have been excited earlier when they planned to stay in last minute. He manages to look up at her and he can see she’s barely holding on.

“You’re so close aren’t you, babe? You taste so fucking good that I want you to cum on my face. I want you to be my dirty girl tonight,” Jason says as he finger-fucks her harder and faster than before. “Are you going to be my dirty girl tonight?

“Yes! Fuck yes! Just-just make me cum, please!” Y/N cries out desperately, needing the push that Jason could only give her.

“You are my dirty girl. You love it when I make you cum with just my fingers and mouth. But I bet you want my cock right after, huh?” Jason asks, chuckling darkly when Y/N’s eyes roll back when he speeds up his fingers inside her. “You wanna ride me, don’t you?”

“Yes-yes I do...” she’s panting now.

“Okay, I want you to cum in my face and then quickly get on my lap and ride me. Fast, slow, hard, whatever, you pick. I just want to feel your warm, tight pussy around my dick, okay?” Jason says, quickly shoving his sweatpants and boxers down to his feet. “Fuck...give me your pretty, tasty pussy, sweetheart!”

And then Jason finally gives in. He pulls both her thighs to bring her pussy to his face. Y/N whimpers when he licks all around her wetness, and he hums in approval when he feels her hand stroking his scalp and pulling his hair, while she continues holding herself up with only one hand now.

The vibration from his humming helps her reach her release. He continues to thrust his fingers inside her and sucks her clit until she gushes in his face.

Y/N manages to silent most of her orgasm, but it didn’t help when Jason continued to lick and suck at her clit to swallow most of her juices. Once her body relaxes, she lets go of the pull up bar and drops down to the couch. Y/N quickly straddles Jason’s lap until her pussy is hovering above his hard cock.

“Spit on my cock, doll. Get it nice and wet,” Jason says, as he watches Y/N spit in her hand and stroke his thick cock until he’s nice and ready for her. “How are you going to ride me, sweetheart?”

Y/N slowly looks up into Jason’s dilated, misty eyes. “Deep. Hard. And fast,” she says.

Jason swallows hard but is able to quickly smirk up at Y/N before she takes full control. “Then ride me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my cock like the dirty girl you really are.”

Y/N finally lowers herself onto Jason’s cock, all logic and common sense flies out the window. Whenever his cock was deep inside her, they both tend to lose themselves and the world around them. Because whenever they were connected emotionally and physically in their bubble, nothing else fucking matters in the world.

When Jason fills her up completely, they both release a content sigh. They usually take their time in the beginning, mostly because of their fears whenever Jason leaves to work as Red Hood. But since they’re both so horny and want to cum sooner, they’ll have to just take their time during round two.

“Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself silly on my dick,” Jason moans, but he and Y/N laugh at the “silly” part, when he realizes that’s not very sexy.

But Y/N understands and slowly lifts herself up his lap until just the tip of Jason’s cock is inside her. She keeps a steady pace, lifting herself and lowering herself, until their rhythm flows. Within seconds, Jason helps her by holding her hips tightly and thrusting his hips in time with hers.

“Your cock is so big inside me, Jay. You fill me up so good,” Y/N moans and rides him a little faster; wanting the head of his cock to rub hard and relentlessly against her g-spot. She guides one of his hands off her waist to move towards her pussy, encouraging him to rub her clit. “I wanna cum again, Jay.”

“Yeah? You like ridin’ my big cock, you dirty girl? You want me to fill your pussy with my cum?” Jason asks, watching Y/N’s tits bounce while she rides his cock faster than before. He can’t help himself, he uses a free hand to pinch her nipple and leans in to bite and suck her breasts, until he puts his hand back to her hip to guide her thrusts. “You want me to fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” Y/N begs.

“Okay, my dirty girl. I’ll give you what you want.”

Well, Jason knows now that this is going to end fast, but he refuses to let it end without Y/N cumming hard again. He squeezes her hip with one hand and the other hand rubs her clit fast in messy circles. He begins to pull her down to meet his thrusts, fucking her harder and faster with everything he’s got. The squelching sound from his cock fucking up into her wet pussy becomes more noticeable, especially when their skin-on-skin slapping gets louder and harsher that echoes in the living room.

“Fuck...Y/N, you’re getting so tight. You feel so fucking good baby,” Jason pants hard, completely sweating and keeping his fast and erratic pace to get them to their releases. “Fuckin’ cum on my big cock, sweetheart. I wanna feel you cum so bad. Please cum for me, again.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Jason just as her orgasm hits her hard; she squeezes and gushes around his cock, she calls out his name. Jason thrusts harder in her three more times, as he finally cums hard inside Y/N, calls out her name as quietly as he could. Y/N collapses against Jason’s chest, despite being hot and sweaty, but he doesn’t mind. He wraps both arms around her and holds her while they regain their breaths and can function normal again.

Y/N doesn’t see the loving smile Jason gives her as he kisses her forehead. “I love you,” he whispers, and hugs her tighter.

She looks up at him and smiles. “I love you, too.”

Before Y/N can lie her head against Jason’s chest again, she notices Gabi sitting and watching them. Y/N jumps up and covers her breasts with her arms, causing Jason to jump in panic and turn around to see what’s going on.

“Gabi! What-what the hell are you doing there?!” Y/N cries out in embarrassment. She can feel her cheeks are getting red again.

Gabi slowly gets up from the chair and makes her wave into the kitchen. She finds bottled water in the refrigerator, takes one, and goes back into the living room where Jason and Y/N are still frozen in fear.

“I-I was thirsty,” Gabi answers, even though she knows it sounds like a lame answer. She walks backwards until she reaches the hall. “And-and then I saw you guys, and then I couldn’t stop watching. I’m sorry, Y/N...Jason...”

But before Gabi leaves, she points a finger at Jason and smiles. She even chuckles. “But-but in my defense...he’s really sexy! He’s fucking gorgeous, Y/N, and you’re one lucky bitch! You’re so lucky!”

But Gabi is right about that.

Y/N is lucky...because she has Jason.

[thedawningofthehour]

...Is your dad Elon Musk?

I mean, I don't have any half-siblings that I know of, but I absolutely would not be surprised if I did. I've thought about doing one of those DNA tests (for other reasons besides that) but they're more pricy than I'd care to spend on a 'lol this would be amusing' test. I don't think he cheated on my mom or anything, not because he wouldn't do that but because he's super paranoid that people are going to steal his money. Including his own daughters. He used to send us cash in the mail for our birthdays/Christmas until he figured out money orders, (and the first year got a money order in Colorado for some reason?) so he wouldn't have to put his address on a check. What's funny is that I know where he was living then. He voted in 2020 so his address was public. I know where he works and his work number and email and shit, sometimes I want to send him a message just to be like "?????" Anyway, he hasn't sent us a card for the last three years, and I haven't seen him in seven.

Oh, the reason he does this is because he pulled some bullshit when my parents were divorcing, like quitting his highly lucrative career to work under the table with immigrants (he hates immigrants, so that thought always amused me) and buying a 40k car (on top of the truck he already had, that my mother bought with her inheritance when her father passed away) so he could claim he couldn't afford alimony or child support. For one kid, since I was eighteen by then. Now he's convinced that my mom is going to 'find' him and sue him and that's worth cutting off his children to him apparently.

Yes, this all sounds very bizarre. It doesn't make any more sense to us on the ground. Honestly, I think there's something going on with him mentally. He did a complete personality 180 when I was in middle school, and since cutting us off he has sent exactly one email to my sister-a nonsensical rant about how she 'wasn't asking the right questions' and needed to understand more about 'the different players' in my parents' divorce. (there is no juicy story in my parents' divorce-he was being a cunt and my mom got sick of his shit. I know she's not lying because my mom has no filter and cannot lie to save her life) He also claimed to have cancer, which-it feels like such an asshole move to accuse someone of lying about cancer, especially considering he actually did have a bout of cancer a few years before this, (stage I, surgically removed, no chemo and never any threat to his life) but the type of cancer he claimed to have generally does not go into remission. So...this sounds terrible to say, but I call bullshit because he'd be dead by now.

...Anyway, yeah. If my aunt called me tomorrow and said that they found a tumor in my dad's brain that was fucking with all sorts of shit, my response would be "that explains so much actually."

a drawing of Doth, the masterpiece

@thedawningofthehour

So, I was reading Third From the Son, DOTH, by Faiakishi, and I got to that infamous moment where Galois yells at Leo about his brother being dead and being consumed by crabs at the bottom of the ocean. If in itself the scene of him on the verge of a mental breakdown due to the sadness, confusion and guilt (among other emotions) that thinking about Donatello causes him and his ending brought me strong images, this definitely cements them. As is my custom, I had to use my older sibling's cell phone to draw.

I did my best, don't strangle me too hard. I tried!

I really like this work and its construction, not only of characters, but of worlds. I had made other drawings before, but I didn't dare to upload them. hope you like.

[from-seas-to-skies]

Farm Grown / Hawks x Reader ♕︎

uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!

warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie

words: 4,802

-

“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.

Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.

When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.

And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.

“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.

“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”

“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.

As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…

“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”

After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.

“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”

-

Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.

In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.

“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”

You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”

Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”

“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”

Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”

And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.

Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.

“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”

Or maybe not.

“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”

“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”

“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.

You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.

“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”

Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.

“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”

To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?

Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”

Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…

-

After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.

Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.

“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.

Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”

Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”

This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.

“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”

All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”

At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”

“Keigo.”

He looks back up at you. “What?”

“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”

Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”

“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”

You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.

Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”

His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”

Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”

Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”

“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.

Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.

“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”

“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”

“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”

Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”

Heh. Yeah…

If only he knew.

-

Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.

Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.

It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?

Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?

Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.

“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”

“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”

“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”

“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”

Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”

“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”

“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”

“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”

At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-

“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.

With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.

“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”

Wait, what?

“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.

“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”

“Who said it was problem?”

Keigo: 1 / you: 0

Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!

“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”

“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”

“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”

“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”

“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”

Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“

Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”

You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”

You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.

“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”

Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.

A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.

“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”

Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”

“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”

“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”

“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”

“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.

“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”

“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”

“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”

A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.

“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”

“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”

“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.

“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”

“Keigo-“  You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.

“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Keigo-“

Smack.

“KEIGO!”

The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.

Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”

Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.

“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”

You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”

“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.

“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”

“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”

Wait, seriously?

“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”

Your heart thumps against your chest.

Oh, fuck.