#existential grump
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
harmacytechnician · 1 year ago
Text
you don't think an inanimate object can have ill intentions until you have to clean your home and you realize no the apartment is sentient and it HATES me
25 notes · View notes
game-grumps-captions · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
This is not a caption but it is SO FUNNY and I want it on my blog
4 notes · View notes
seellove · 29 days ago
Text
Counterfeit Shrines // sukuna x female reader
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Chapter 6 - Quicksand // (3.7k words) // 18+
\|/ AO3 - Chapter 6 | << Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 >>
You're a late bloomer when it comes to cursed energy, entering Tokyo Jujutsu High partway through the 4th year on the support student track. Because of this, you get paired with the only combat track sorcerer without a partner for obvious reasons, Ryomen Sukuna. He's had a tragic upbringing as a human that is part curse with dark expectations for how to live his life. However, after meeting you, he slowly starts to see the possibility of a different path with someone he might love.
Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are Jujutsu Sorcerers in a JJK AU, explicit smut, violence/blood/injury, dubious consent, dubious morality, drug and alcohol use, falling in love, angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending
A/N: Lord I am so bad at posting this story on Tumblr, going to try to make it a point to upload more. Story is at Chapter 24 on AO3 just FYI. Also the smut is beginning and there's a lot for the foreseeable future in case that isn't your thing!
He stares back at you with unblinking eyes. Your eyes return the gaze, pleading with him, please don’t say no. You don’t think you could handle the embarrassment. The fear of rejection lingers in your mind and you immediately regret saying anything.
The look of shock on his face subsides. Sukuna coughs and clears his throat before responding. 
“Are you sure brat?”
You nod, feeling a flush spread across your face. “Yes, I don’t want to be alone right now. I still feel scared from the mission. I don’t know why it's affecting me so much.”
“Cursed energy from curses is more easily absorbed by humans, it's how they come to be after all. But curses are drawn to curses, so even the energy you absorbed could be essentially sucked out of you if there was another curse around,” Sukuna explains as he walks into your room.
“Alright, where do you want me?” Sukuna changes the subject rapidly.
“What? Where do I want you?” you chuckle awkwardly.
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Oh, ha, wherever you want,” you say awkwardly. 
Sukuna glances at the bed immediately.
“In the bed is fine, it’s plenty big enough. If you want to, that is,” you try not to sound either eager or disappointed. Honestly you don’t really know which one you want to feel. On one hand you are nervous he’d try something. On the other you are hoping he’ll try something. Wait what? Why can’t your brain just brain normally for once.
Sukuna walks past you having your existential crisis, turning his phone off and putting it on the nightstand.
“You turn your phone off when you sleep?” you try to make conversation as you approach the space next to where he stands.
“Tonight I am.”
Your heart drops to your stomach as your breath chokes in your throat. No no, don’t overthink it, probably just wants to make sure it doesn’t disturb you, 
“Sleep on that side,” Sukuna points to the other side of the bed.
“Pretty bold to tell me to sleep in my own hotel room,” you joke as you look up at him.
“I’ll be between you and the door this way,” Sukuna says nonchalantly, “but make no mistake, I could protect you no matter where I am in this room.”
“Well I’m glad the big bad curses won’t be able to get me,” you laugh as you walk around the bed.
You climb in and nestle under the covers, eying Sukuna as he slides in next to you. You turn on your side to face him, receiving a questioning side eyed look.
“What brat?”
“It’s like a sleepover, did you have sleepovers with your friends growing up?” you smile and giggle at him.
 “Why are you asking me about such a stupid thing right now?”
“Sleepovers aren’t stupid!” you play up a gasp to him.
“Just answer the question you big grump.”
Sukuna chuckles, rolling his eyes, “you really just love to test my patience. No, there wasn’t much in the way of sleepovers when I was a kid.”
“Hmm,” you hum, finding his comment interesting. Surely he hasn’t been so prickly his whole life, so you were expecting him to at least have been to a sleepover.
“How was-”
“Can you shut up and fucking kiss me?”
Oh shit. 
“Alright alright!” you can barely get out as he closes the gap between you, one hand cupping your cheek. He gives you a cheeky grin, glancing up into your eyes, then back down towards your mouth as his lips find yours.
Your body feels stiff as he kisses you, still recovering from his demanding statement. His lips start to move slowly against yours, pulling you out of your stupor to follow his lead. His hand holds your cheek in place as a nibble on your bottom lip has your lips parting, coaxing his tongue into your mouth. 
Your pulse begins to quicken, your entire body tingling as you relax into the kiss. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping his hair as you continue the languid rhythm between your mouths. 
You feel his movements becoming more desperate as if the breaths from your throat were the last source of air in the room. He rolls you from your side to your back, lips still locked as he leans over you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You start to feel light headed but your need for his kisses outweighs that of oxygen at the moment.
The weight from his large body presses you into the mattress as he kisses you with force. You pull him down harder, matching his ferocity with each swirl of your tongue. Your bottom lip ends up gently trapped within his teeth, allowing you to take a deep breath finally. 
Inhaling the oxygen brings life back to your brain, pushing butterflies down into your stomach and chest. Sukuna pulls away briefly, dark lidded eyes meeting yours as he looks at you with a hunger you’ve never seen before.
The dark energy you had been feeling earlier has vanished and in its place, a warm, relaxed feeling spreads throughout your body. Sukuna lays beside you, ghosting his fingers down your neck, tucking your hair behind your ear. You tilt your neck slightly as a silent invitation for him to keep going, which has Sukuna not hesitating a moment more. His breath is hot on your skin as he plants the first soft kiss of many on your exposed neck. The featherlight kisses morph into more urgent nips and nibbles which converge on sensitive skin below your ear that currently has you panting for more.
“Ah Sukuna,” you moan as you feel a tingle from your neck to your groin, the feeling of his teeth on your skin causing your core to clench around nothing involuntarily. 
You pull at his shirt, wanting to see him. Feel him. He pauses a moment to let you pull it over his shoulders, slinging it onto the floor. The dim light of the room casts shadows across his massive frame as he looms over you, eyes scanning you before he dives back into your neck. His feathery kisses are long gone and replaced by something much harsher, likely leaving marks on your skin as he nips and sucks his way down toward your chest. 
He moves to slot his thigh between your legs, nudging them open before settling himself between them. His muscular thighs fill up all the space between yours as you press your knees against him. He pulls you forward and slowly lifts at your shirt, glancing up at you for your silent approval. You need to feel more of him on you, so you assist him in pulling it off, finally revealing your breasts to him.
His eyes widen and his lips part as he takes in the sight. His gaze roams over your exposed chest and stomach, and soon his hand follows. He traces your body from your collarbone to your breast with his fingertips, kneading at the soft flesh all the while giving you a surreal look.
“Never seen boobs before?” you joke lightly.
“Not yours, been wanting to for a while though,” he responds in a gravelly voice.
You gasp as he pinches your nipple between his fingers, the new sensation sending a wave of fire south towards your core. 
Sukuna smirks and takes this as his sign to do it again and again. His skilled touch has hardened your nipples, making them even more accessible and sensitive to his ministrations.
“You like it when I touch you like this?” his voice is deep and full of lust as he looks into your eyes, pupils blown.
“Mmm yes S’kuna,” you whimper under his touch. His hands release your tits which elicits a whine at the loss of contact.
“Don’t worry I’m not done with you yet,” he grins as he leans against the bed frame, pulling you up to straddle him. Your knees rest on either side of his legs so you are now face to face. The brief moment of eye contact this close feels very intimate, but it breaks as he pulls you in for another desperate kiss. Your bare chests are now pressed together as his arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer while your hands do the same. His hands begin to roam to your front and knead at your breasts as his kisses get deeper and deeper. 
Your moans at this point are absorbed by his mouth as you feel his thumb and fingers teasing at your nipples again, rolling and pinching them until you can hardly breathe. He pushes your arms up so you are now gripping the top bed frame, giving his mouth access to your tits. His lips are on you in an instant, tongue rolling one of your sensitive buds while his hand still works the other. The pool of fire you began feeling in your core burns hotter now, the pressure causing you to writhe under his touch.
“Oh my god,” you cry out as his wet tongue rolls lazy circles around your nipple. His strong arm supports your back as you arch into his mouth, hands raking through his hair. You’ve never felt like this before, not even close, all you can do is stare at the tattoo symbol on his forehead as you try to not completely collapse.
You can’t stop the lewd high pitched moan that comes from you paired with the wet popping sounds coming from his mouth on your breasts. You want more, need more, so you plunge one of your hands into your shorts to try and alleviate the aching desire in your cunt. 
He grabs your wrist, quickly, stopping you from making contact. You whine in response, your core desperate for some kind of relief.
“I’ll do that for you,” he says in a low voice, not as a question, but a statement.
“Hurry,” you don’t even think, your lower body aching for relief at this point. 
He pulls you down hard into his lap, both of you gasping as your clit makes contact with his erection. The friction finally gives you the relief you’ve been craving as you grind yourself against him, seeking more. 
“Fuck,” he moans as you grind against him, his fingers raking into the skin of your back. His eyes are now closed and his teeth are pinning down his bottom lip. Every roll of your hips on his hard dick gives sends a bolt of pleasure into your clit, through your stomach and down your thighs. And he’s big, your clit never not in contact with his hardened length. 
He slowly lowers you onto your back, bracing himself with one arm, never breaking the contact between you two. You lift your hips as he pulls your shorts and panties off, noticing him fingering the damp material. You suddenly feel vulnerable, completely exposed to him.
His eyes flash a deep red, glowing in the dim light as he looks down at you in an almost predatory way. You feel like he could devour you right here, tongue flicking across his lips as he scans your body. 
“You good?” his deep voice breaks the silence. 
“Yeah, I want to keep going,” you reply. You can feel the need burning between your legs, Sukuna the only one who can quench the flames. There’s no way you could stop now.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” he smirks.
“I-I want you to touch me down here,” you move his hand to your lower stomach.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Not with someone else….just on my own,” you whimper, getting impatient.
“Mm, I see,” he seems to ponder this momentarily, but the hunger never leaves his eyes as he glances towards your core. “Tell me if it gets uncomfortable.”
He slides his fingers through your already drenched folds, groaning as they glide with ease. You twitch with the initial sensitivity, but it quickly passes and you sigh as he carefully circles your slit.
“So wet for me already,” he growls as he explores your soaking core as if committing it to memory.
“You have no idea how good I’m gonna make you feel,” he coos in your ear as he slides one finger inside of you. You gasp at the initial stretch, just one of his felt like two of yours, filling you up and going deeper than you ever could. You clench around him as he begins to move slowly, knuckles dragging along your walls with each pump of his hand. The initial pain subsides as he continues to probe deeper inside of you.
He slips a second finger in and you close your eyes, gritting your teeth as the stretching sensation returns.  
“You’re taking it so well, just relax,” his words quell the anxiety in your chest as the pain subsides quicker this time.
He picks up the pace, fingers scissoring and probing your tight cunt. His knuckles drag against sensitive spots you didn’t know you had as he curls his fingers inside you with each thrust of his hand. He tests different angles and twists of his fingers until he hits a spot that has you mewling. His thumb begins to brush against your clit, making your legs shake from the pleasure. 
“Right there, keep doing that,” you whine as he finds your sweet spot. Your breathing is getting heavier as you feel your core begin to heat up. He has a serious look on his face, concentrating on pushing you closer to the edge. 
“Suck on my tits,” you pull his face to your chest, and he begins rolling your nipple in his mouth again without hesitation, causing you to emit a guttural moan, your release imminent.
“Suk, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum,” you gasp. The drag of his thumb across your clit and curling of his fingers has you on the precipice of shattering. He keeps the pace exactly how you need it, the squelching sounds becoming louder as you are nearing your release. Then everything snaps, emitting high pitched whines as you dig your nails into the back of his head, your vision whiting out as an orgasm rips through you better than anything you could imagine. Your cunt clenches around him, gripping him fiercely as he finger fucks you through your orgasm, hot waves of pleasure pulsing through your body. 
He can’t keep his eyes off you as you look up to see an excited look on his face. A prideful smirk forms as you make eye contact.
His pace slows as you come back to reality, pulling his fingers carefully out of you. Coated in your cum, he brings them to his mouth and groans as he tastes you. Your body feels weightless as pure bliss washes over you, barely even acknowledging the world around you. 
“You taste so good,” Sukuna murmurs. He leans in to give you a deep kiss and you taste yourself on his tongue, a sweet and salty flavor lingers in your mouth as he pulls away. 
“Not done with you yet though,” he grins, starvation apparent in his gaze.
You gulp in nervousness. Does he mean sex? Your timid glance gives yourself away.
“No, not that, not yet at least,” he chuckles, “let me show you.”
He stands up and kicks his pants off, standing before you in nothing but his tight boxers. The outline of his giant cock strains against them, precum staining the fabric. You’d never be able to take all that, you decide, thank god that wasn’t on the table. Your eyes snap back up to him just in time to see him pounce on you, pushing you up towards the headboard as he positions himself between your legs again. His massive arms cage you in from both sides as you run your hands along his biceps, feeling them tense as he holds himself up. You trace the tattoos along his arm, meandering over to his chest hovering over you. His fluffy pink hair falls into his eyes as he relaxes under your touch. 
Sukuna eases himself down onto you, his erection coming down to push against your clit, causing you to gasp and grip his arms as your hips buck against his. He begins to move, grinding himself against your clit, rolling his length back and forth over your sensitive bud. Your eyes roll back, each pass of his cock against you sending sparks through your body that threaten to dismantle the last of your self control. 
He starts to move faster, hips snapping as he drives himself against your clit, the thin fabric of his silky boxers becoming soaked with your slick and his precum, helping him glide over you smoothly. 
“Fuck I can feel how wet you are,” he groans as he moves even faster, pressing himself even harder against you. You feel your core beginning to tighten up, a sign of another orgasm slowly building. 
“Don’t stop, keep doing that,” you moan. You instinctively push his ass down with your feet to give more needed friction, hips rolling to meet each thrust. His face is starting to morph into a sneer exposing his prominent canines, eyes blazing. You swear you see his nails lengthen into claws as he digs into the mattress next to you. He looks almost…demonic, like he could tear his teeth into you at any time and wipe the light from your eyes. The sense of danger just turns you on, and you dig your nails into his back as you pull him down so his bare chest is on yours. 
Your cries become louder as the waves of pleasure rip through your body bringing you to the edge of your orgasm. 
“Fuck!” Your body cracks, pleasure surging through your body. Your toes curl as you press your hips hard against his, rutting against him, desperate for his cock as you come undone beneath him. His face looks surprised but then turns serious, brows furrowing with concentration as he chases his own release. His hips stutter as he finds his own orgasm, feeling him pulsing against you, his boxers hot and wet against your clit from cum soaking through to your skin. He moans through the waves of pleasure, slowly coming to a stop and collapsing onto you panting.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close to you, his head unmoving at the base of your chin. You both lay like this for a few minutes, your fingers running through his hair, scratching his scalp.
Sukuna finally rolls off of you with a loud sigh, his nails back to normal and his eyes back to their normal light red color. You feel shy and exposed all of a sudden, pulling the blanket over you. 
“I’m gonna go get changed,” he grins sheepishly while looking down at his stained boxers, causing you to laugh. He rolls off the bed and pulls on his pants. 
“Here,” he throws his shirt at you that you take as a sign to put on. 
“Are you coming back?” You ask curiously.
“That was my plan,” he doesn’t look up as he situates his pants. “Unless you don’t want that.”
“No, I mean, yes I want you to come back, only if you want to,” you mumble.
He snorts with a laugh, “ok then I’ll be right back,” he closes the door behind him.
Rolling onto your back, you stare up at the ceiling. You don’t know what to think, you just let your combat partner finger fuck you and make you come apart twice by his hand, then cum all over himself from grinding on your clit. This wasn’t supposed to happen, certainly wasn’t in any of the orientation paperwork, but here you are, with nothing on except for his shirt. 
You liked it though, loved it even. It's the best you’ve ever felt in your life, and for how much of an asshole he is, he was a very attentive lover. You felt comfortable doing this with him, all of the subtle check-ins to make sure you were ok and his attention to your reactions were very much appreciated. Would things be weird now though? Would he come to regret this while he’s in his room? How would he treat you going forward?
You knew he wouldn’t be loyal to you, but it didn’t really matter. Sukuna was now your closest friend at school besides Shoko, you didn’t really feel any jealousy towards the other girls you knew he messed around with. If your friend just so happened to be hot as fuck give you the best orgasms of your life, then so be it. Plus you weren’t interested in a relationship anyways, your future goals were at the forefront of your mind. 
The door handle turning interrupts your thoughts as Sukuna reappears. He must have grabbed your room key when he left. He locks the door and rejoins you in the bed, stripping back down to his now fresh pair of boxers.
“Damn Sukuna, are we on a no clothes basis now?” you giggle. 
“Oh please my fingers were all up inside you 20 minutes ago and now you are worried about clothes,” he rolls his eyes and pulls you against him, causing you to squeak in surprise. “Now hush and go to sleep.” 
Sukuna reaches over you to turn the lamp off. You feel his arms around you, pulling you closer until your back meets his chest, securing you against him as the little spoon. His fingers draw lazy circles on your wrist and his leg threads itself between yours.
No words are needed right now, maybe you should just let the moment be, lying close to each other in this temporary peace. After your day of fighting curses, you both deserve to relax. 
The post orgasm fatigue hits you and you quickly find yourself fast asleep, Sukuna wrapped around you already lightly snoring.
<< Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 >>
Masterlist
43 notes · View notes
futurehauntedghost · 8 months ago
Text
Here’s my opinion on some of my favorite Sonic ships. I don’t have a controversial ship here, sorry not sorry.
Tumblr media
Surgamy: Look, I really like ships about a nice and loving person with a someone who is the opposite. And Surgamy is just that but the goodest. The moment I saw people ship it, I saw the potential immediately, and it just flourish even further. This might be my only Amy ship that I full time ship all times. Sorry Sonamy, Blazamy, Shadamy, Metamy, etc shippers, I like this one more. Sunshine/grumpy Sapphics go hard.
Shadamy: Alright admittedly this isn’t my FAVORITE Shadow and Amy ship, I don’t even fully ship it. But I get it now. I used to think people who shipped this was the cringiest part of the fandom. BUT I SAW THE LIGHT AND THE POTENTIAL AND I AM ON BORED. I mean, kinda… I still see them more as friends. But yo, anytime I see y’all make ship art or something, i’mma be like “Yo dog I get it. Sunshine and grump, that shit go hard!”
Metamy: METAMY SHIPPERS PLEASE CALM DOWN! I haven’t stopped shipping them, it’s just the fire has died down. I just, started to see them less as a couple potential and just more as friend potential. Like, I just think the idea of Amy, being the ultimate friend maker she is being besties with a clone of her crush that has to kill her like 20 times while he’s going through a existential crisis is cute, funny, and full of potential that doesn’t have to be romantic. And I’ve just started to see them in more of that light.
Knuxrouge: According to the shipping wiki this is one of the more popular ones, and this is one of the only BIG ones I actually ship fully. IDK dog, I just think it’s cute and funny when a character’s reaction to be flirted with is “W…W…Women pretty.” They be cute.
Bigfinite: BLAME THIS ON @bbgatile 1000%. For those who don’t know, they made a bunch of crackship art a few years ago, which they now since deleted, which please don’t hate them for its their art, they can do what they want with it, if you want to find it, just google the ship name on google you’ll find some reblogs. But I saw that shit and I’ve loved this pairing to death since. I love dog/cat pairings! I love calm/extreame pairings! I love villains/that one side character pairings! It’s just a good ship and it’s BULLSHIT that there is only like 4 works of it on AO3. Best believe my next STH fic is gonna be about them.
Whispangle: Do I even need to say anything? Pretty sure this shit practically IS canon! Whatever! Lemur and Wolf sapphics goes hard AF.
Shadknux: This like my only Shadow ship. I think this is real good soup. Although, if I had a preference, I prefer the Boom! Iteration of this ship more. IDK Dumb himbo with enough Twink is extremely cute. I really like these two. I admittedly don’t read a lot of Sonic fics, but I wanna know if there’s some good ones with this pairing.
Jetilver: I understand why one wouldn’t ship them together, but I think the idea of Silver learning how to ride extreme gear, even though he can fucking fly, cute. And listen, these two is just a gay middle school couple to me. Jet is a closeted gay teen who is CONVINCED they are straight, and they just wanna be seen as cool but they come off as cringe. And there’s Silver who is just openly himself and can probably blow you up with his mind yet he finds Jet riding on extreme gear and finds it rad as shit. They cool and cute, and they deserve more attention.
88 notes · View notes
johnwickb1tsch · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Vino Veritas - Part III
A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic
Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.
Tumblr media
III. Just what the world needs, Another Fucking Sunset Wedding
It’s almost sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frank had been waiting for you to catch the shuttle to the wedding venue, dallying in the lobby pretending to look at an atrocious modern art print while keeping one eye on the hallway.
“You look nice,” he grumbles, taking in your white A-line sundress printed with big red roses.
“Thanks,” you say, admiring his navy blue suit unabashedly, since he brought it up first. “You look very handsome.”
This makes him stand up a little straighter, clearly not sure how to take the compliment, but you dare to think, he liked it.
When the shuttle drops you off at the base of the vineyard you look up the steep hill planted with curling grape vines in their nice neat rows with a sense of dread.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I am not wearing the right shoes for this.”
He looks down at your platform heels. “It said in the itinerary you’d have to walk up a hill.”
“Ok, but what was I supposed to wear? Hiking boots? The unfair standards of women’s dress clothes don’t allow for that.”
He holds out a hand, albeit begrudgingly. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
“I swear, these shoes are actually usually the sensible option.”
“Sure they are. Wearing anything that elevates your feet four inches off the ground is a sensible option.”
You sigh, and take his hand, trying to ignore the thrill running through your bones as you feel the strength in his fingers and his arm, as he helps propel you up the incline.
“I can’t believe they don’t have…stairs, or something? Did the old people have to do this?”
“Presumably not.”
“Then what the fuck?”
“Quite.”
Men’s dress shoes aren’t exactly made for rough terrain either, and at one point you both almost slip, clutching each other in a bid not to tumble back down the hill. It’s…nice, you have to admit, to be held close by this man.
He looks at you with wide eyes, for a moment for all the world appearing as though he’s drowning, before that thunderous frown appears. “Fuck this.”
You yip with surprise as he sweeps you up into his arms, and marches determinedly the rest of the way up the hill. Before you can even think about taking it as a romantic gesture, he practically drops you back to your feet at the top, releasing you as though you’d burned him.
You sit together in the back, as usual, though Frank very pointedly crosses his arms and is careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between you.
That shouldn’t make you feel sad, but it does.
The excruciatingly drawn-out bullshit Reception
“I used to like this song,” you muse, watching the dancers on the floor with an odd mixture of wistfulness and distaste. Keith dips his new bride, and a mean little part of you really wishes he would drop her.
“Do you…want to dance?”
Frank could have knocked you over with a feather, after how he’d behaved earlier. It definitely colors your answer, the knee-jerk impulse to push him away too.
“I said I used to like it.”
“Fine.”
Then, of course, you feel bad. And maybe you feel…a sliver of hope, however stupid.
“Why, do you want to dance?”
“Of course I don’t want to dance. It’s moronic and ridiculous. No one wants to fucking dance.” There is more venom in this statement, than perhaps the situation calls for.
After a moment, a bit softer and with a hint of apology, he qualifies, “I just thought it might take your mind off things.”
If you looked miserable, it’s ironic that for once, Keith was not the cause of it.
Perhaps this should send you running in the opposite direction too.
“Do you want to take a walk?” you ask instead.
He looks pointedly down at your questionable footwear, but you point at the basket behind you bearing what are professed by a whimsically written sign: Walking Shoes. They’re some kind of slide on deal that will do in a pinch. Honestly you’re willing to go bare foot, if it gets you out of that tent.
The meandering and pointless Walk
“You know, I was actually diagnosed with PTSD after the whole Keith thing?”
Frank snorts at that, the farthest reaction from sympathy he can manage. “Rich people’s PTSD.”
“I’m not rich.”
“Fine. Privileged.”
That’s probably true. Goddammit.
“Well…am I not allowed to have problems?”
“Sure, just no one wants to hear about them. Anyone who doesn’t have to worry about food, housing, or getting shot by the police should just keep it to themselves.”
“That’s not very healthy.”
He shrugs. “It’s not just you. No one should care about my problems either.”
“What if I care?”
He snorts. “Then I will feel even sorrier for you than I already do.”
“Ok, fine. Maybe not me specifically. But what if…say, you find someone else you actually like. Isn’t it ok to talk about your problems with friends?”
“Isn’t that a terrible thing to do to someone you like? Making friends or a significant other listen to your problems for free, when you should be paying a shrink for it?”
“It’s just a thing people do who are close to each other. They talk.”
“People who aren’t close too, apparently.” He says all this with a surprising amount of cheer in his tone, either enjoying himself, or the walk, or the view…or maybe even your company.  
He changes the subject as you round a bend. “So, are you glad you came to this thing? You made your show of strength, you’ve got your closure now that the knot is tied and they’re legally bound to be miserable together, and you’ve fled the scene with his half-brother, whom he despises, which the family surely will gossip about. You could almost chalk it as a win, if you squint just right.”
You huff, breathing a little heavy as you walk up a hill on the ridge the path follows. It truly is beautiful in the backcountry of the vineyard, rolling mountains planted with nice neat rows of green vines.
He makes a good point, but strangely…you don’t feel satisfied. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I’m not sure how I feel,” you admit, pausing to incline your head up at him. He pauses too, looking down that straight nose at you, and he is standing very close. You fancy you sense him tense, as though about to take some great leap, and he looks at your mouth with something like consternation, when a god-awful yowling roar travels down the path at you.
You both turn to see a very big, very unhappy cat displaying its impressively large and sharp canines at you.
“What the fuck is that?”
“I think it’s a mountain lion.”
“What the fuck do we do?”
“I don’t know. We’re too far away, no one will hear us scream.”
“Is it a bobcat?”
“It’s not a fucking bobcat. Look at the tail.”
“You should run. It’s going to eat me anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m smaller and slower.”
“I wouldn’t presume about the last part.”
It roars again, and you clutch at his arm.
Suddenly Frank charges the thing, making that god-awful hissing sound from earlier with his finger in his ear. They both sound like demons from hell, and with shock you watch as the predator backs away.
“Now, we run,” says Frank, grabbing your hand and booking it down the hill.
You run what feels like a long way. Your legs are burning, and the stupid little slide-ons are not made for athletic activity. And the thing about running downhill is…sometimes gravity gets the best of you. Like now, when you trip over a rock, and take Frank with you. Suddenly you are both tumbling down a steep grassy incline, locked together in a death roll.
“Fuck!”
“Fuck!”
“Fuck!”
“Fuck!”
When at last you come to a stop you are utterly stunned. “Y/n?”
You just lie there, unable to move.
“Y/n?”
Are you even alive?
Suddenly, Frank grabs your arm, hauling you around. “Ah!”
He looks…so worried, that if he hadn’t wrenched your back, you would have been touched.
“I’m fine! Jesus!”
“Ok. Sorry.”
You lie there for another moment looking up at him. He has grass in his hair; it’s endearing somehow, seeing this put-together grouch of a man just a little undone.
“You saved me,” you tease, sitting up beside him.
“I saved us.”
“Yeah right. It would have eaten me anyway. Why’d you save me?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Just trying to spare myself the guilt.”
He reaches up to pluck grass out of your hair. His light touch gives you a thrill down your spine. Again, you are aware that you are very close, and his dark eyes have gone wide again, that slightly panicked look he gets. His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you are completely taken by surprise when he grabs the back of your head and pulls you swiftly into a hard kiss.
He retreats from it just as quickly, and now he does look like he’s seen a ghost. “Fuck. Sorry.”
“I—”
Before you can say anything he’s grabbed you again, and this kiss is less forceful, though maybe no less desperate. You’re able to reach up to cup his cheeks before he shoves you away again, this time hard enough that you topple back in the grass.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” he pants again, looking for all the world like a horse that would like to bolt. “I don’t—it’s been a long time. Heat of the moment. Near death experience. Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“How long?” you ask, incredulous. Because, this man is so…so. Fucking. Good looking. How has he not been with anyone?
He scowls at the grass. “I don’t think I’ve felt real pleasure since 2006.”
This admission makes your eyes go wide. You sincerely hope he’s exaggerating, but then again, the way he behaves towards people…maybe he’s not.
“It’s just…” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “If it all sucks, then fuck it, but if it doesn’t? Then there’s so much pressure.”
A part of you wants to snark at him. Well well well, welcome to the human race at last. But another part of you…another part of you just wants to kiss him senseless and fuck him silly, and make him feel all the things you’ve both been missing out on because he’s been such a goddamned coward this whole time and you’re not much better.
 Maybe he reads the pity on your face, because he feels the need to defend, “Not that I haven’t been with anyone. Just…”
“You weren’t that into it?”
He looks away, glaring at the world again. “Yeah.”
“It’s been a while for me too,” you admit.
“Please don’t say it was Keith,” he snarks. “I’ll kill myself.”
You laugh. “No, your brother was incredibly, monumentally selfish in bed. I literally could have had better sex with a lamppost.”
He looks at you sideways. “That really shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.”
Your lips twist as you try not to smile. Frank, however, is back to frowning at the vineyards again. “We can’t have sex right now. I don’t have any protection. It would be irresponsible.”
You’re a little amused, that his brain has leapt immediately to sex, while you are sitting in the dry grass together. Apparently just kissing was not enough—or maybe he’s been thinking about it for a while. You’d be a liar, if you said you haven’t.
“What if I said you’re in luck?”
“I would say that’s highly improbable.”
You feel bold enough to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. It doesn’t take much persuading this time, when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his fingers digging into your ribcage, and you’re not really sure who’s more desperate to feel alive after defying death at the claws of a tiger or whatever the fuck that thing had been.
“That’s not helping,” he pants when you part.
“Why? Are you actually into it?”
He pulls you closer with hands on your waist. “Pretty into it,” he admits begrudgingly. You smile against his mouth, suddenly feeling electrified from head to toe. The colors of the world around you seem brighter, somehow. You take him by surprise when suddenly you straddle his waist, perching on his legs and pushing him back down into the grass, your pretty skirts spread around you.
“What—”
You unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, freeing him to the desert air. “Oh…” When you bend over to lick his tip and take him into your mouth you get an even more emphatic, “Oh…”
“What about now?” you ask him as you withdraw with a pop.
He blinks, for the first time since you’ve met, speechless. At least, for a few long moments.
“I think I’d like to be inside you.”
“How’s your health?”
“Fair to middling, for a man my age.” You give him a look, and damn if he doesn’t soften for you, even if just for a fleeting second. “Clean,” he answers quietly. “You?”
“Clean. And fully armed with IUD.”
He blinks. “Like they use to blow up humvees in the Middle East?”
You laugh, throwing your head back, your curls bouncing around your shoulders. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. “Like, an intrauterine-device?”
“That definitely makes more sense.”
“Well?”
You watch as he licks his fingers, reaching under your dress to push your panties aside and find your center. The saliva is appreciated but not necessary. You are drenched, and his big fingers rubbing your clit feel like magic. “Is all that for me?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like this was a gift from the universe he did not expect to receive. Usually it’s more inclined to deliver a kick to the balls.
“Who else would it be for? The lynx?” He snorts, and in a softer tone you confess, “I have been a wet little mess for you since…the moment we started arguing in the airport.” He blinks at this, dumbstruck for a moment, before kissing you with an edge of desperation you both feel keenly in your bones.
He guides you onto him with his big hands on your buttocks. That feels like magic too, his thick tip at your entrance sinking in. It’s your turn to say, “Oh,” with your head thrown back, his big cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you, until he’s filled you to the hilt. For a moment you just sit like that together, joined, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It’s wonderful.
You imagine how ridiculous you must look, to an outsider looking in. Two people tangled in the dirt, grass in your hair, dust all over your nice clothes. You giggle a little to yourself.
“Something funny?”
“Just…do you ever think about how silly humans look, doing the things we do?”
“All the time.”
You laugh joyously, but you feel him withdrawing from you, that subtle tension returned in his limbs. You realize he thinks you’re making fun of him. It’s like this man expects he’ll have to defend himself from the world at any given moment. Then, from what he’s told you about his life, you guess he has. You don’t let him get too far, pulling him closer. “But fuck it feels glorious. I don’t care. Fuck me, Frank. I need you.”
 You feel him relax, and maybe even surrender. He moves for you, and you with him, his thumb on your button and his mouth on your neck as you ride him out…it’s the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed, with another person involved, that shining pleasure ambushing you in the cradle of your hips and spreading outwards. It’s almost embarrassing, except he’s right behind you, holding you almost desperately with arms locked around your waist, his face buried in the bend of your neck. Neither of you are quiet about it, your yells echoing across the empty hills.
“Oh my god…” you pant, resting your forehead against his.
“Can’t say…I believe much in god,” he informs you, out of breath.
“Me neither,” you admit. “But that was fucking fantastic.”
“Yeah. That was pretty damn good.” He sounds so surprised about it.
He kisses you, more softly this time. There is a long moment of eye contact between you; it is vulnerable, and electric, and raw. He is the first to look away, almost flinchingly. Then he focuses on the business of disentangling yourselves.
“I’m afraid we’re about to make a huge mess.”
“You don’t have a handkerchief?”
“What am I, a nineteenth century dandy?”
“Okay, relax, Romeo. I’ve got it.”
You rather cleverly, if you don’t say so yourself, use the petticoat of your dress to avoid staining his trousers as you uncouple, in a way that won’t leave you an embarrassing mess when you return to the tent either.
“I like that dress even more now,” he quips, looking at you with something almost akin to tenderness as you right yourselves. He reaches up to pull another sprig of straw out of your hair with a smirk.
“Frank…” You’re not really sure what you want to say. There’s a pent up ball of something in your chest, and it kind of actually hurts, and you’re not sure you like it at all.
“No,” he answers resolutely, but he cranes his neck down to kiss you anyway. “Want to go back to my room?”
“Yes.”
TBC...
-----------------
ahhhhh I didn't have the courage to make it as awkward as the movie 🤣🤣🤣 but I feel like I need to make a note here bc i'm always writing wildly irresponsible sex practices: always use protection with a new partner. It's just a good idea. And ALWAYS use some kind of birth control, or you WILL get pregnant. mother nature is a bitch.
74 notes · View notes
parrythisucasual · 1 year ago
Text
What About Me? Ch. 4
Sorry it took so long guys. Been working on asks and some personal things have been kicking me in the ass. I'm hoping to get most of my asks out today so I can focus on this fic a little more. As always, I love you guys and hope you enjoy!!
Gangle talked with you for hours, making you feel much more comfortable. You had some knowledge as to how this place worked, now. You knew who was who, how they acted, and the parameters of what is considered “inappropriate” and would get you in trouble. 
Eventually, she stood up, stretching. You snorted to yourself, why would ribbons need stretching? She picked up her liners and whatever paper she hadn’t drawn on, “It’s pretty late, though,” she yawned, despite the fact feeling tired wasn’t digitally possible, “I’m going to head to bed.”
“Alright,” you agree, hopping out of bed to walk her to your door. You did this out of habit: every time your friends were leaving in the real world, you would accompany them to the door. She giggled as you walked her to the door.
“Madam,” you fake an accent, bowing as you opened it for her. Gangle only laughed harder, walking from the room, “Why, thank you!” You stand upright again, waving as she trotted up the hall, “See you tomorrow!”
She waved back, “Yeah, definitely!” and slipped into her own bedroom. You pause a moment, just in case she forgot something, but she didn’t pop back out. Almost instinctively, you look down the other side of the hall. A door closed rather suddenly, making you jump. You hadn’t heard or seen anyone coming, and Gangle didn’t say anything if she had.
The fact someone had been watching you didn’t frighten you. No, it was the fact they didn’t want to be seen that made you uneasy. Your eyebrows knit together, but you decide to man up and see who it was. You ignore the little voice in your head screaming at you this is how people die in horror movies!
“Can’t die here,” you mutter under your breath, reassuring yourself a tiny bit. Reaching the door, you stop in surprise; Jax’s door stared you down, his annoying smile present even in the image that adorned it.
You raised your fist, about to knock, but stopped suddenly. There was a shadow under the door, indicating that someone was standing relatively close to it. You chicken out immediately, dropping your arm and speedwalking back towards your room, slipping inside and closing the door as quietly as possible.
You place a hand on your chest, breathing deeply to calm your anxiety. You wander to your bed, falling face-first into it. You grunt, realizing that it was a lot more of a smack than you had thought it would be. People in fanfictions did it all the time, you just copied it.
You shake your head to clear it, wrapping yourself in your sheets and snuggling down. You didn’t feel like getting lost in another existential crisis today. You yawn, surprising yourself. Maybe it was to make everyone feel normal. Your eyes droop, and you soon find yourself drifting into a deep sleep.
You were awoken to a loud banging on your door. You jolt upright, eyes wide, confused and still half asleep. “Wake up, sleeping beauty, everyone else has been up for hours.”
You grumble, trudging to the door, your blanket still wrapped around you. You swing your door open, glaring at the one on the other side.
“Jax. Was waking me like that really worth making me jump out of my skin?” His grin only widened, “Absoluetly, it’s what i was goin’ for.” You roll your eyes and toss your blanket on the ground, “I’m awake now,” you grump, shoving past Jax roughly and heading up the hallway. 
You ignore his blatantly, knowing very well he was following you. He had to rush a bit to catch up with you, but soon was walking beside you, beat for beat. “What was that for? You never been woken up by your parents or something?”
The only response you give is a rather sour expression. You wouldn’t even look at him, let alone speak. You swore you saw his face drop a bit, but he recovered quickly enough. “Didn’t you ever learn manners? You’re supposed to talk back, remember?”
Ignoring him once more, you round the corner to the main hall. You perk up immediately, seeing exactly who you were looking for. “Gangle! Ragartha!” you chirp, running over, leaving Jax in the dust.
“Oh, hey! You’re a lot happier than yesterday!” Ragatha smiles sweetly. “Oh, definitely. Gangle and I hung out all day!” Gangle giggled, “I was just telling her, actually!” 
You noticed Jax hadn’t moved from where you left him. He was just… standing there, looking at the little group you’d formed. He honestly looked disappointed, or maybe sad, or even abandoned. That was it, abandoned. Something about his expression made regret nibble at your chest.
“Are you coming or not?” you call to him, hoping you wouldn’t regret it. But seeing him perk up, before playing it cool as he headed to you, you knew you weren’t going to. You can handle this guy.
“Heh, sure, if you want me that bad,” he stopped beside you, crossing his arms, “what’s up, dollface? Crybaby?” Alright, maybe a bit of regret. “Don’t call Gangle crybaby,” you snap. You didn’t say anything about Ragatha, knowing she could handle herself. Besides, she didn’t seem to care about her own nickname.
“(Y/N) was nice enough to ask for you to be here, are you seriously going to ruin it by being a jerk?” Jax lifts his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, “Alright, alright!” You see him glance at you, it’s quick but you notice it. Ragatha seems to have seen it as well, and backs down a bit, “Thought so,” she adds with a grin.
TAG LIST!!! (You can always ask to be added)
@dai-tsukki-desu
@luujjvi
@sangoqueenkoko
@shebsvers
@mikusboner
@exhonerd
@lunaramune
@oneiratxxia10
@softangxlicss
@c00kie-cat
202 notes · View notes
blueikeproductions · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
It always seemed like the staff on EarthSpark didn’t fully understand what they were doing, as the “G1.5” setting could be rife with other characters related to G1.
For example, the show, at least at first, was big on allegories between Transformers and humans, and considering official media and thirsty fans, you’d think some humans in-story would have romantic relationships with TFs.
So I thought it’d be funny if Astoria was present, with her openly dating Powerglide, with Powerglide being the stepdad to Astoria’s daughter. Astoria’s company is a big shareholder in GHOST, and wants to see results in apprehending all evil Decepticons on the planet after their role in her father and previous husband’s demise following a botched energy scheme. Like many, she’s not particularly pleased at Megatron’s presence, and more than once has said she wants him arrested too once matters are settled. Astoria fell for Powerglide the moment he saved her and her daughter Charlie from their collapsing company building. Charlie’s a little unsure about Powerglide at first, because she thought he was a Decepticon Jet, but was won over by the plane’s charm and that he took her into the clouds to see the beauty of it all.
Charlie is best friends with Max, the son of GHOST agent Alanna and Autobot Seaspray. The two kids often tag along with the Witwiccans (Phoenix and Grahm’s Terran group) and the Maltobots. The two don’t receive Cyber Sleeves though, probably due to being too young for the responsibility.
Beachcomber I saw as a victim of Mandroid’s reprogramming, one of several Autobots and Decepticons forced into the Arachnamech faction. Upon being freed of that, he becomes another mentor figure to the Terrans, passing on his laid back “hippie” way of thinking to the more high strung Phoenix, Ethan, Jawbreaker, Thrash and Camshaft.
He’s one of the few Autobots Dot actually likes, as they both bond over a shared love of nature.
Gears is trans in this version of events, though in story it’s not really dwelled on. The only real hint she is beyond just being another gender bend like Skywarp and Frenzy is Gears remarking she got an overhaul during the Earth conflict and never felt better. Something about upgrading from a stick shift, as a confused Thrash would describe it. Gears is still a bit of a grump though, annoyed at Megatron being an Autobot and having an existential crisis at the possibility the Transformers stuck on Earth are the only ones left in the universe. It’s this moment that sees Hashtag use her internet power to send a signal out into space to see whether or not other Autobots still exist. Gears is pleased to later learn Cybertron is ok, but sour at it being under Decepticon control at the moment. She also is surprised to hear the Colony Worlds are for the most part still intact after the Cosmic Rust incident, and several are actually descendants of Quintus Prime like the Terrans.
25 notes · View notes
pearlstarlight5 · 1 year ago
Text
Back when I was writing Sonic OCs, I tried shipping Psya with Shadow, but never committed to 2 reasons: 1, inhibition by cringe culture instilled at an impressionable age, and 2, not really being sure how to write it.
Because Shadow is a difficult character to write. He's a unique kind of morally ambiguous and a unique kind of emotional. How do you do that justice?
Well, Psya x Shadow still isn't going to happen in my fanon, (especially since as I consider rebooting those OCs again, I probably won't bring back their Sonic counterparts. Or I might for Psya at least, who knows?) but I've figured out how I would write Shadow for a romance, and maybe I'll write my own Shadow x reader fics from my ideas.
Okay prelude aside, here's what I have in mind:
-So realistically, if Shadow fell in love, he'd avoid it, because he knows he would lose them, and he knows he couldn't handle the pain of losing someone again.
-But say he went for it anyway, what he would be like. Well, for one thing his love language for certain is acts of service.
-He has his guard up at first, but as he gets closer to you, he'll start to talk about deep existential thoughts with you.
-Of course, it's still Shadow so he's still a grump, but with you he's a gentle grump.
-He wouldn't be romantic, but he would be deeply passionate. He doesn't know what to do with that he loves you, yet he loves you more than he is able to express.
3 notes · View notes
marythegizka · 1 year ago
Text
Mass Effect Trilogy Tag
Was tagged by @illusivesoul
Thank you! 😊
Tagging (if you feel like it, of course): @mxanigel, @lady-carys, @wolfmilk-and-polenta
Answers under the cut! (Quite a bit of rambling there, I'm afraid...)
I have been a fan since:
Favourite game of the series?:
MShep or FShep?:
Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer?:
Biotics or Tech:
Paragon or Renegade:
Favourite Class:
Favourite Companion:
Least favourite Companion:
My squad selection:
Favourite In-game romance:
Other pairings I like:
Favourite NPC:
Favourite Antagonist:
Favourite Mission:
Favourite Loyalty Mission:
Favourite DLC:
Control, Synthesis or Destroy:
Favourite Weapon:
Favourite Place:
A quote I like:
I have been a fan since: 2021. I had been meaning to try the first game since 2017. I played for one evening, then life happened and I forgot about it. Fast forward to the 2021, when having less work and no longer having a commute made me go 'well, why not use this time to mitigate my existential dread and deaden my emotions with... oh. Okay. Nevermind that'. And then I sank... I don't know, a little under 200 hours into it? Yeah.
Favourite game of the series?: ME2. I think I like the stakes and storytelling of ME3 better (also, I think it was the first game to ever make me cry? Several times?), but ME2 is very character-focused and I just live for that.
MShep or FShep?: Well, I usually play as female characters (the one recent exception I can think of being a M!Cousland because that was the only way marry Anora. I have no regrets.) so I'm not really in a position to compare.
Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer?: Earthborn on my Paragon playthrough, colonist on the Renegon one. (I also started a spacer one but did not finish it).
Biotics or Tech: Both, but for different reasons. I like the visuals of biotics (yes, I really am that shallow), and having an enemy NPC floating helplessly in the air while you take aim is really, really convenient. That said, the 'overload' ability is extremely helpful, and I really like Tali's little drone, so tech is pretty cool too. I just usually make sure I have both in the squad (except for specific missions like the moon base in ME1).
Paragon or Renegade: Hmm, so... I'm going to say Renegon, because Renegade is very entertaining at times, and absolutely awful at other times (particularly in ME3). But my first Shepard was a bleeding heart Paragon. She was just so nice.
Favourite Class: Anything that lets me experience the story without dying too many times (and I play on casual so that's really all of them). That said, I find myself rather partial to the Vanguard's charge ability. It's not necessarily the *most* useful, but it's just too satisfying not to use.
Favourite Companion: Hmm. Well, I love EDI's dry humour and the fact that she becomes more human over time, so I'll just go with EDI...But honestly, it is a tough choice, especially when old grump Javik is right there, and Tali melts my heart, and Liara's arc is so good, and Wrex is too funny but also pretty tragic, and... see what I mean?
Least favourite Companion: Jacob. The thing with Jacob is, I don't even dislike him, I just think his writing is... how do I put it? Not bad, per se, but it doesn't quite pull me me in. He's pretty much the only companion who remained 'a coworker' on all my playthroughs. Other were either 'best pals' (Tali, Garrus, Wrex), great romances (Liara, Garrus, Thane), or downright antagonistic at times but in a way that felt natural and brought something to the story (Miranda and Jack come to mind).
My squad selection: I don't have a fixed one.
Favourite In-game romance: Garrus
Other pairings I like: Miranda/Jack, Javik/Liara, Tali/Garrus, Nyreen/Aria
Favourite NPC: Matriarch Aethyta
Favourite Antagonist: Saren
Favourite Mission: Virmire
Favourite Loyalty Mission: Tali/'Treason'
Favourite DLC: I haven't played them all (I haven't bought the Legendary Edition so they were separate purchases. This means I have never recruited Kasumi or played Lair of the Shadow Broker, any knowledge I have of them comes from the fandom + a couple of videos), but I really enjoyed the Omega DLC.
Control, Synthesis or Destroy: Oh man... I mean... I feel like Control comes with fewer moral downsides in the short term? Organics remain organics, so no consent issues there, and the Geth and EDI get to survive... the only real downside is that Shepard is gone. But in the long term? Who's to say they're not the new big bad? It's the one I went with on my 'Renegade' playthrough and her monologue was pretty chilling. Also, there's a degree of sadness in her being 'still there but gone'. What does the grieving process look like for Liara (or whoever else was romanced)? For Shepard themself? Isn't it lonely up there? I don't know, there are just so many questions. That said I went with 'Destroy' (and high EMS) on my first run because I looked up a wiki as I played and I wanted Shepard to survive. Let her and Garrus adopt baby Krogans.
Favourite Weapon: Ermm. I'm not good with names (or details in general for that matter 😂) but that big Prothean rifle you find in ME2? Yeah. That one.
Favourite Place: Ilium. Again, I am shallow. Though I initially mistyped that as Ilos (again, I am bad with names) and you know what? I love Ilos too, but more for the feels than its aesthetic. Also Liara's reactions. And the music when you get to Vigil.
A quote I like: "You did good, child. You did good. I'm proud of you." Man, the delivery got me right in the feels.
4 notes · View notes
harmacytechnician · 4 months ago
Text
I work in pharmacy, so the UHC CEO murder thing was a topic of interest after it first happened. Myself and many others who deal with countless insurance issues every day, seeing the insidious evil of it all firsthand, could not muster up much sympathy for that CEO.
When you spend an hour on the phone being put on constant holds and being given blatantly wrong information and put on a wild goose chase with no end just so some company can dodge paying for a patient's life-saving medicine, and you do this day in and day out, you can't help but develop a potent contempt for the horrific cruelty inflicted upon the patients under your care. It feels hopeless, and like an endless fight. The network of clinics I work for have a dedicated department for Prior Authorizations. All day, every day, they work tirelessly and fight with insurance companies to get things covered that never should have been questioned to begin with. I watch as these companies pull every trick they can think of to deny a claim, and how this back and forth can go on for months. I know that the longer some patients go without these medications, the worse their quality of life gets. It infuriates me.
I'm not one to celebrate death, but I do feel relieved. I don't take joy in this relief, but I hope that what happened is the start of more change, because the health insurance industry is a vile beast.
6 notes · View notes
tellyreviews · 16 days ago
Text
Iss Ishq Ka Rabb Rakha Finally Heading Right: Cheers for MeghBir
Tumblr media
Iss Ishq Ka Rabb Rakha Finally Heading Right: Cheers for MeghBir. Today in Iss Ishq Ka Rabb Rakha, the episode kicks off with the host, clearly loving the sound of his own voice, announcing the grand finale of Sangeet Superstar. Three rounds, three stages, and one glorious trophy up for grabs. He then calls Sachin for the first performance, which is as electrifying as a half-dead battery. Sachin and Antara shower him with compliments, but Rajinikant, being the Simon Cowell of the panel, grumbles about his ‘high benchmark.’ Translation? Try harder, kid. Next up, Piyush struts on stage and belts out a performance that has the host practically bursting with pride. Judges give glowing reviews and hand over scores like candy at Halloween. Meanwhile, Param and Arjun share a heartfelt bro-ment, lamenting Meghla's absence from the finals. Meher chimes in with a dramatic, “God must have better plans!” Cue the existential dread. But plot twist! Before Neha’s grand entry, a worker hands the host a mysterious card. The audience gasps. The host dramatically announces that public outcry has resurrected one eliminated contestant. Meghla’s name drops, and the crowd loses its collective mind. Ranbir clutches her hand like he just won the lottery, while Neha and Adrija’s faces resemble spoiled milk. Rajinikant, ever the grump, makes a comment, only to be promptly shut down by Siddharth’s mic-drop response. Meghla struts back onto the finale stage like she owns it. The family cheers, Adrija fake-smiles through gritted teeth, and Neha attempts a performance that gets the judges gushing. With the highest score, Neha soaks in the applause. Then it’s Meghla’s turn. Her performance is so riveting that even Siddharth hops up for a standing ovation. Rajinikant, of course, remains seated like someone superglued him to the chair. He begrudgingly criticizes Meghla’s act, which barely dents the celebration. Meghla secures the second-highest score, and Adrija’s bitterness levels spike. She attempts to manipulate Ranbir, but the guy’s too busy cheering for Meghla’s success to care. Round two pairs Neha and Piyush for a duet. Rajinikant, in a rare act of enthusiasm, labels them his favorites. Siddharth and Antara join the praise parade, and the duo scores a solid 28. Chandan, sensing the ominous vibes from Rajinikant, gets worried. Arjun, ready to throw hands, vows to confront him, but Ranbir talks him down. Meghla and Sachin then serve up a duet that has even Rajinikant clapping. Adrija’s disbelief is palpable. Siddharth, ever the hype man, declares Meghla a people’s champion. Before the final round, there’s a quick break where Meghla basks in her family’s support. Adrija sulks like a cat denied its tuna. Precap: Meghla annihilates Neha’s dreams and snatches the Sangeet Superstar trophy. Adrija’s face twists into a Picasso painting of shock and rage. The end. Mic drop. Read the full article
0 notes
ann-without-the-e · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
For my neurodivergent people out there, question for you, how do you shut your brain up?? I drove home from a friend’s house tonight and my thoughts just wouldn’t stop racing and it was just random shit too! Like my brain feels like a goddamn hurricane of random song lyrics, TikTok sounds, and existential thoughts about my future.
I guess I answered my own question by watching Game Grumps, wrapping myself around my Blåhaj, and drawing cringe vent shit…
1 note · View note
alphaflyer · 9 months ago
Text
Story time
So, when I was freshly married we lived in the house next to my father-in-law (he owned two and we bought one from him on favourable terms, hence the unusual in-law proximity).
He was a circus buff and into model railroads, so of course he spent a decade or so building the Ringling Bros Circus Train. He laid a track for it in the backyard, complete with a tunnel under the steps leading up to the deck and a space where the Big Top could be set up, with three rings and seating. Eighty-plus cars, painted animal figurines made from clay, special cars to carry the Big Top masts, the works - to scale and following carefully researched specs.
Fast-forward to one warm summer's night. I came home from a late D&D game on my bike at 4 am; the streets were empty and the sky was turning pink. I was coasting down our shared driveway when I saw movement on Dad's porch. There he was, glass of Scotch in hand, smoking a cigarette, glowering in the dark.
I got off my bike and asked him what his problem was, expecting the usual long rant about The Divorce, to which he was prone.
But no.
"The giraffe," he grumped. "When I put it into the giraffe car, it won't fit though the tunnel."
Clearly, this was an existential problem; the ashtray was full and I wondered the how-manieth Scotch that was in his hand.
"Saw off the neck and put in a hinge in it, so it flips back when the car goes through," I said.
He humphed, drained his Scotch and butted out his cig.
"Yeah, guess that'd work," he said, and went inside.
Tumblr media
1 note · View note
johnwickb1tsch · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Vino Veritas
A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic
Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. Eventual nsfw, not this chapter. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. chapter map.
Tumblr media
The Gate to Hell
You’re not sure what it is about airports, that somehow makes them feel like a special little extension of the circles of Hell. Or maybe purgatory, is more the like. All you do there is wait, and wait and wait, praying that soon it will be time to move on.
It probably doesn’t help that you’re absolutely fucking dreading your destination ahead.
Frankly, it will be a miracle if you survive this weekend with your sanity intact.
And then, there’s this dude behind you. You keep seeing him out of the corner of your eye. He just keeps pacing back and forth, rolling his stupid bag with him, and you just want to whirl and tell him to be still or sit the fuck down.
Instead, he comes to stand next to you.
You give him a glance. And then, you’ll admit, a double take, because he is stupidly handsome, even while frowning, staring churlishly at the flight monitor as though it had personally insulted him. And, to add insult to injury, he is tall. And well dressed in jeans and a button down and a nice sports jacket. And you inwardly sigh for some indefinable reason that has to do with longing and your acceptance that the universe does not bestow such gifts upon you for free.
“Nice dress.”
You blink, not having expected him to speak to you.
“Thanks.” It’s a 50’s style robin’s egg blue halter swing dress, your favorite color. You needed some bright color therapy, to face the hell you’re about to be stepping into.
“Is there a sock hop in San Luis Obispo I’m missing?”
You guess with your cat-eye Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses, you do look rather on brand.
From his sardonic tone you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. “All the cool kids are going.”
You kind of deliver it like a dig, and you see the corners of his mouth twitch. “Ah. That explains everything.”
You look him over. He…really is ridiculously handsome, if you’re being honest. High cheekbones. Trimmed beard. Piercing eyes. Casually well dressed. A bit older than you, not that that’s ever stopped you.
“I hope our flight’s on time.”
You check your phone app for the airline. “Supposed to be.”
“Let me guess. You’ve got an app for that?” The way he says it, just this side of snide, like you fucking millennials—it kind of pisses you off. And maybe you’re overly sensitive to patronizing comments from older men, but with your history you have a right to be.
“Do you have a problem with me?”
He stands up a little straighter. “What?”
“Like what’s your deal? I was just standing here minding my own business, while you’re creeping around behind me—”
“I was not creeping. I was trying to see the board.” He gestures at the display screen by the gate.
You look him up and down. That’s a tall drink of water, if you’re being honest. “Because Mr. six foot six over here can’t see over my head—”
“I’m only 6’1”—”
“Okay, 6’2” in your shoes, and then you come up here, give me a backhanded compliment, and make fun of me for having the means to keep track of what’s going on with our plane?” You glare at him. “Holy shit, are you trying to neg me?”
“I don’t…even know what that means.”
“Ok, boomer.”
“I am not a boomer.”
“Whatever.”
Then he has the gall to step away—in front of you.
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“You’re going to butt ahead in line too?”
“On a flight that holds eight people?”
“Wow. Ok, be my guest.” You wave him on, and he rolls his eyes. Then you have to stand there, and look at his stupidly broad shoulders in that nice sports jacket, and his dark softy waving hair that just brushes his collar…you’re not going to look at his butt.
You’re not.
Your eyes slide down.
Fuck, but that’s a nice caboose.
The Fight Or Flight Response
As you sit in your backseat of the plane, there is one seat left beside you, and when you see who boards last you want to throw yourself down the stairs before they close the door.
“Anyone want to trade seats?” he asks, bent over practically in half, he’s so tall and the plane is so small.
Crickets.
With a resigned grumble he settles into the seat next to you, as though the world might end if he has to spend a handful of minutes in your general proximity.
Then, of course, the universe further conspires to embarrass you by sending you a defective peanuts bag, which you cannot for love or money get to tear open.
“Dear god, tear it at the notch,” grouses the rude man beside you, driven insane by you fighting with it.
“There is no notch.”
He’s there with his big hand extended, making an annoyed give it here gesture. It’s distracting, truly, how long and elegant his fingers are.
“Give it here.”
“I’m fine.”
“Give. It. Here.”
You’re so disgusted with this whole day, you hand it over. Then watch with smug delight as he can’t get it open either. Finally, he uses his teeth in his frustration, undoubtedly spitting all over it. When he tries to hand it back to you, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
With a sigh, he offers you his less molested bag.
You take it like accepting his sword on the battlefield.
You both make faces as you quickly find that the seasoning on the nuts tastes like hot trash, and you reckon it’s probably a metaphor for how the next few days are going to go.
This is going to be the weekend from hell.
“So what brings you to San Luis Obispo?” the man asks resignedly, almost like he can’t quite stop himself from talking to you. There is an exhaustion in his tone that would have pulled at your heartstrings, if you weren’t so generally pissed off.
“You don’t have to try to talk to me.”
He shrugs, throwing up those big, beautiful hands in a gesture of annoyance. You can’t help but stare at them—they really are a menace.
“Just trying to be pleasant.”
You can’t stop the bark of laughter that escapes you at hearing that. He frowns over at you, and you cover your mouth, hiding your smile. You know you must look like a crazy person—but it’s just too ridiculous.
“Was it that funny?”
You sigh, and for some reason you feel better after the involuntary outburst. Okay. Maybe you can make an effort. No one is ever in a good mood at the airport, after all. “I’m actually going to Paso Robles.”
“Row-bulls.”
“It’s pronounces ro-blays.”
“Everyone says Row-bulls.” 
“Well, not the fucking Spanish who named it.”
He looks away again with that thunderhead of a frown. Why does he have to look extra handsome, when he’s pissed off?
You sigh again. “Look, I’m sorry. I swear, I’m not always such a bitch. It’s just…this fucking wedding I’m going to.”
This catches his attention; he turns to look at you like a hawk zeroing in on a mouse. “Not…Keith and Anne’s wedding?”
“How do you fucking know Keith and Anne?”
“Keith and I share a mother.”
“Holy shit, you’re Frank?”
“Who are you?”
“I was engaged to Keith, years ago.”
“Oh my god, you’re y/n.”
You can sense by the way he says it that you’re infamous in the family’s lore. It’s been a long time, but still, it fills your heart with a familiar leaden despair.
You close your eyes, and look away.
“You’re just as horrible as Keith always said,” you say to the window.
“I find you equally disagreeable, I assure you.”
waiting for death the car
“There was supposed to be a car,” Frank grouses the second you exit the airport. Patience is clearly not his strong suit.
“The flight was early.”
“But it seemed so long.”
It’s a good dig, truth be told, and the corners of your mouth twitch despite yourself. You sit down on a bench, and to your surprise he sits on the other, though on the side closest to you. “So what the hell are you doing here?” he asks. “Didn’t Keith break your heart?”
“Shattered it into bits.”
“Well?”
“I was invited.”
“And…you’re a masochist?”
“Look, I’m not…whatever Keith must have said I am. I was practically a fucking child when he started dating me. It was not…” It was perfectly legal, of course, but the imbalance of worldly experience, looking back, had not been kosher.
You feel the tide of all the pain and insecurity that man caused you raise up in your heart. Usually you’re pretty good at shoving that shit down down in the deepest dungeon you can, like a healthy person, but the wound is feeling a little fucking raw at the moment, considering.
“Keith is an asshole who only cares about himself. I am aware.”
You sigh, and the tide miraculously recedes. Goddamn. It almost feels like he’s on your side.  “Okay, yeah. There you go.”
“Why do this to yourself?”
“You know, before he broke it off, we had a fight the night before because I told him I would never get breast implants, of all fucking things, and Keith told me I would never amount to anything without him.”
“Sounds like something asinine he would say.”
“I wanted to go back to school, and he didn’t like it. He wanted a Stepford wife, and I was becoming alarmingly aware of the world outside his own making of it, the way children do when they grow up. If you’re wondering why he dumped me.”
“That tracks perfectly.”
“He invited me to be a shit and rub my nose in it, so…I’m here as a fuck you. I wanted to show him I’m doing fine.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, actually.”
“You do seem rather well adjusted.”
“Yeah, fuck you too.”
This, surprisingly, makes him smile a little.
A few moments of slightly less awkward silence pass before he asks, “So what did Keith tell you about me?”
“Oh, he told me plenty.”
“Such as?”
“What does it matter?”
“Don’t do that,” he snipes. “Don’t dangle the tidbit then refuse to deliver it.”
“Fine. He said you’re a grouch who hates everyone.”
“Oh. I was afraid he might have said something untrue.”
You glance over at his ridiculously well-sculpted profile. He glares ahead, his brows furrowed, and you strangely get the sense that maybe…he’s a little sad for it.
At fucking last, the shuttle car from the hotel arrives.
Tumblr media
Tbc...
75 notes · View notes
parrythisucasual · 1 year ago
Text
What About Me? Ch. 3
FINALLY HERE SORRY I TOOK TWO DAYS HAHHHH
PAIRING: Jax x Reader (Romantic) / Gangle x Reader (Platonic)
TW: Name-calling, slight existential dread
CONTENT: You stand up to Jax on behalf of Gangle.
“RABBIT!” came your bellow of anger, stomping up the hallway. Your sights were set on the periwinkle bunny boy, fingers curled into fists. He turned, arms crossed. From even here, you could see the smug grin. He held Gangle’s mask in one hand.
“Oh? What’s wrong, sweetie?” he mocked a motherly concern, “someone hurt your crybaby friend’s feelings?” You snarl, eyes full of fiery fury, “Give it back, you tool!” you snap. You were momentarily surprised this word was allowed, but it wore off quickly. 
You stormed right up to him, jamming a finger in his chest, “You had better give me that mask, you spiteful, conniving, sorry excuse of a man!” you snap. He’s stunned for a moment, unable to say anything, then glares at you, “Who do you think you’re talking to like that?!”
“I would have thought it was obvious, but I guess I overestimated your intelligence!” you sneer, hands on your hips. Jax snarles, “Take it!” and tosses it over your head. You leaped backward, trying to catch it, and somehow you managed to. You’re impressed with yourself, and it boosts your confidence greatly.
“That’s the best throw you’ve got?” you chuckle, “yeah, you were the last picked in high school PE.” You omit the fact that you, as well, were picked last due to your clumsy nature. You spin around, wiggling your fingers like a hoity-toity rich lady, “Ta-ta~” your tone is mocking. You giggle up the hallway, slipping into your room, “Gangle, I got it,”
She looks up, delightfully surprised, “You did? How?” she takes the mask, slipping it over her tragedy mask, a smile finally gracing her face. You shrug casually, but can't stop smiling. “Eh, just what he least expected. I had a comeback.”
She snorts, “I kind of regret not following you… It would be funny…” You flap your hands, stimming slightly, “Oh, no need. He looked like this,” you give an exaggerated expression of surprise. This makes Gangle snicker harder, “I really regret missing it now!”
You enjoy a good laugh together before she turns to the desk, “Hehe… here, I have a rough sketch…” she wiped away a tear from laughing too hard, “What do you think?” She held up the sketch; Naruto in his sage form, the lines smooth and expertly lain. 
“That's amazing… I was gone for less than two minutes how did you do that?” She squeaked, embarrassed, and pulled the paper close to her chest. “I used to draw caricatures, I guess I never lost the speed, even in this style.
“Well it's impressive, that's for sure,” you hop into your bed, stretching out, humming to yourself. Gangle glances at you, grinning, “thank you!” You roll onto your side, propping your head up with your hand, “What’s Jax’s problem anyway?” you ask suddenly.
Gangle shrugs, pulling out the liners, “He just sort of showed up like that. I don’t think he’s got a problem, I think he’s just mean naturally.” You sigh, rolling your eyes, “Of course, in a weird world where you can’t escape there's gotta be a bully,” you grump sarcastically, “because what else would you have?” Gangle shrugs, “I don’t know if there is a rhyme or reason to who gets brought here. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern.” You flop onto your back, staring at the ceiling, the existentialism of this place far beyond your reasoning. This place was nothing like you’ve ever thought, and yet you were experiencing it. “...Weird.”
__________________________________________
TAG LIST
@lostsoullover (bestie!!!!)
@dai-tsukki-desu
@Luujjvi
@Sangoqueenkoko
@Shebsvers
@Mikusboner
@Exhonerd
@lunaramune
@oneiratxxia10
308 notes · View notes
Text
Ramblings
It has been seven and a half years since I started the blog.  What have I accomplished? Have I grown as a person in that time, grown as a writer? Not much is my answer.  I see in my first post, I was searching for a hobby, still not found. I did save my small and ever dwindling readership from viewing my story on the Eunuch Social Club so count yourself lucky. Otherwise, have not edited much from the rantings and ramblings.  I am proud that it didn’t turn out to be a chicken soup for the soul type of stories, full of inspiration and motivation. Not exactly my style.
My philosophical tome on alienation, loneliness, and existential angst has yet to be written. Likely to remain so, as not as deep of a thinker or as good a writer as I wish to be. No Paddy Chayefsky. Certainly, as I age, turn to nostalgia for culture during my own and historical prior lifetimes. Memory is far from photographic, as we reinterpret and attach emotions to the memory from the person who we have become and less so from who we were when events took place. Memories and the self are malleable, thank goodness.
The pandemic and aging have created a life moving in slow motion. Sometimes it is splendid, other times bored to no end. I’m not sure what I am looking for at this moment in time so perhaps won’t know if I find it. For me, humanity exists in a purposeless chaotic universe. Life as absurd. Although it is very hard to stay in a place of internal absurdity and calmness when fighting over the phone with the doctor’s office or health insurer about the errors on the bill.
Like this post, the end has yet to be written. There are no particular dreams or desires for my upcoming years. I have enjoyed travel in the past but there is no particular place I wish to go. Time travel is another matter. Dualities exist everywhere.  It can seem like such a waste of time to go to the toilet but then again, there is nothing like a good ….. 
“To thine own self be true” came from a speech from a Shakespearean character, Polonius. Polonius apparently was a character seen as disreputable, a bore, pompous, and a hypocritical empty vessel. The other characters on the stage are not listening to him and in fact are mocking him behind his back. Hundreds of years later, it is oft quoted. Especially in context, but also out of context, genius.  
I guess I do have one goal.  To approach thought, people, history, in an offbeat way. The title of the blog, the non-conformist curmudgeon retains meaning for me. Although I talk big about the absurdity of life, a part of me aspires to have a legacy of uniqueness. I wish to stick out in some way and being an automaton is a very frightening outcome. The Kinks song, “I’m not like everybody else” has always been a favorite as being like every one else is a repulsive thought. Some degree of eccentricity preferred. Some synonyms for curmudgeon are bellyacher, complainer, growler, grump, and sourpuss. Also, a legacy I aspire to. No one has referred to me as “downright neighborly” and I hope it stays that way. Toxic Positivity not my bailiwick. I suppose my aspirations are internal. I’m good with that?
Tumblr media
0 notes