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#not me wasting my fucking time on this nonsense
1-800-cuupid · 10 months
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I'm nosey so I did my own investigation
Okay so, sparked by intrigue and curiosity, I decided to take a real close look at false god's and moood's hair and I have to say...
Looking closely at the hair, for me to think that the mesh is stolen, it would have to match a set of criteria:
I'm expecting the hair mesh to line up closely, if not, match 100%
I'm expecting the UV Layout has to be very similar
I'm expecting to see solidified planes, not individual strands of hair
In this example, I couldn't get my hands on all the hair meshes that Moood is claiming False stole so I'm only using Apollo & N73 (the one Moood used to compare in a gif originally.
Going off my check list in order:
The hair does not line up at all. I can see where the hair tapers off from curves, where Moood's alpha hair clips through or where strands of hair are just straight up missing where they would be on a copy of the hair's mesh. I've included a few photo examples where I see this.
N73 vs Boyzzz: (Blonde hair is False's & Black hair is Moood's) (Red Line is Moood's & Blue Line is False's)
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Apollo vs Conquer:
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2. Again, if a hair is a copy of another, you can reasonably expect the hair to have a near similar UV Map, be it layout or shape of the uvs. When looking and comparing them both, you can see that they are no where near similar.
Apollo vs Conquer:
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N73 vs Boyzzz:
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3. Last but not least, solidified planes. As I said before, I have glanced over a few tutorials on how to make an alpha hair clay and as stated, you do not have to use Blender to do this. It consists of modifying the texture of an alpha hair to make it clay, not going into blender to make individual strands.
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In this example, I'm using the solidify modifier to hypothetically turn Moood's hair into a clay hair, using Maxis textures with a similar UV Layout to showcase what it would look like if someone were attempting to pass off an exact copy of Moood's hair as Maxis Match.
Clearly, this is just quick and dirty because I'm not about to go through the process of sculpting each strand to look similar to that of False's but it's clear that none of the hairs are exact copies of each other.
My verdict is:
While False did build the mesh from the ground up (i.e. from scratch) they did have Moood's hair present in Blender and they WERE using it as a GUIDE (as in; Moood's hair on the bottom and their new mesh on top or side by side) while they were making their hair hence extremely similar strand placement. False did not steal and attempt to pass off an exact copy of Moood's hairs as their own.
A small aside: If they referenced the hair be it from Pinterest, google, a web comic, etc, the style is fair game. People copy off of others all the time just as Moood copied the hairs from another artist. If it was their OWN design that they came up with from their heads, no references, THEN it would be a diff story. But they didn't, so it's not.
You can even look at the Blend file I made to compare the two hairs if you wanna make your own judgement, download here.
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Either way, it's no reason to call someone a necrophiliac lol
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lord-squiggletits · 8 months
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So for anyone who doesn't know, in IDW1 Trypticon is actually a really interesting character. Earlier in the timeline, he's basically just an ancient evil monster that gets awakened and used as a fighting force by the Decepticons (covered by the events of Monstrosity and Primacy, although I'm not sure if he made an appearance earlier in terms of the comics' release order).
Later on in the IDW1 comics, Trypticon becomes a character with his own personality and desires as written by Barber in the Dinobot trilogy (not the phase 1 series but Punishment, Salvation, and Redemption). Basically, Trypticon is very aware of the fact that people see him as a violent monster, but he decides to abandon Cybertronian society entirely because he's tired of being used as a vehicle for others' violence. By the end of the trilogy, he actually has a new hotspot inside of him and is nurturing the next generation of protoforms within his own body. He's literally done a 180 from being a source of destruction and death to being a protective, nurturing, life-giving force. And this is interesting because, although Trypticon DID have a personality before Barber wrote him, Barber's take on Trypticon gave the "big scary Decepticon titan" a much more 3D personality that made him a person with his own goals, disinterested in the plots and schemes of others. And that's really cool!
So what ended up happening Trypticon in the finale of IDW1, Unicron?
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He gets killed off. In the background. With no one giving a shit about it. Because Barber decided it was more important that, IN THE FINALE OF THE SERIES THAT WAS ENDING IDW1 AND WOULD BE THE LAST ISSUES HE WOULD EVER WRITE, we as the viewers be subjected to a Literally Who OC that no one cares about crying and bitching about how Optimus Prime is a tyrant and a fascist. This entire panel is almost literally shot in a comedic way, like the trope of "person monologuing while something crazy happens behind them that they're completely clueless to."
Trypticon got an interesting characterization that made him more than just a monster, but I guess it was more important to kill him off in the background of a panel so that Miss Literally Nobody can waste an entire page of the LAST SERIES OF THE CONTINUITY being a whining bitch about Optimus, which by the way is what she's been doing literally this whole time since she basically exists just to complain about Optimus.
Oh and by the way, Trypticon was carrying the next generation of protoforms inside of his body, and Cybertron (plus every other colony) got destroyed during the Unicron finale, so I guess an entire fucking generation of new Cybertronians also got slaughtered in this panel. How fun and exciting! I guess putting in that really depressing character death of "man changes his ways and gets to live happily but gets killed off for shock value" was really important to put in the ending of the series to make us readers feel satisfied about our beloved story ending! Oh but not only does he die, he dies IN THE BACKGROUND PRACTICALLY AS A FOOTNOTE so that a different character no one cares about can talk about her feelings, wasting crucial time bitching about how much she doesn't like Optimus while TRYPTICON IS LITERALLY DYING BEHIND HER BUT I GUESS SLIDE IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT FOR US TO BE CARING ABOUT.
This is what happens when you're more concerned about huffing your own farts Writing A Theme, Man than you care about creating a satisfying ending that fans will actually enjoy lmao. Who cares about Trypticon and possibly his children that we got attached to as a result of the previous comics dying? This literal nobody who no one cares about needs to have her time in the spotlight monologuing about shit that doesn't matter while everyone around her is fucking dying.
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iknowitwontwork · 7 months
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FUCK. MY. DAD.
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rubenesque-as-fuck · 6 months
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Date guy was supposed to get back to me with what days worked for him for a second night out either yesterday or today but so far I haven't heard anything. I wanna text him to ask but also don't want to seem too clingy/desperate. People on the FWB track aren't supposed to need attention or reassurance, right? Telling myself that if he actually wants to go on another date, he'll contact me. He's got plenty more people to choose from besides me, anyway. Why whould he be in a rush.
Maybe this is why I almost always just keep my walls up and just turn down like 99% of the various app messages and/or dates I go on. Because as soon as I feel even a little teeny tiny bit of actual interest then I get way too fucking invested. Start agonizing about small details and stupid shit like the length of time between replies. Can't even get a timely response when I've already said I'm down to screw around. Maybe it's better to just stay numb and reject everybody because then at least it feels like it's *my* decision to be alone.
But then I'd never even have a chance to get laid, right? I guess I should get back to swiping. God I fucking hate dating app culture so much it all makes me wanna hurl. Just blow chunks all over my dating history.
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starbuck · 6 months
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lord give me the strength to not be a massive cunt at work today
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binch-i-might-be · 1 year
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recently I've noticed that I clench my jaw a lot at work and I've noticed this because obviously while doing that I also grind my teeth and I do not Want to grind my teeth as I don't want to damage them
idk when or why this started but like an hour ago at register. I realised. what was up with that. because I got so fucking mad that I clenched my jaw but while at the same time trying not to grind my teeth and it's the exact same motion I used to do when I was a young teenager. like 13/14. because back then I used to bite my hands when I got too fucking mad/overwhelmed. (I was also That Kid that would punch walls lmao)
now I know that was a kind of self harm and I find it oddly hilarious that I've been having this urge for the first time in years,,,,, because of this fucking job
get yourself a job that will make you want to self harm 😩❤️
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kyurilin · 5 months
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"plan ahead for a healthy and happy holiday" YES THANK YOU CVS I TRIED TO PLAN AHEAD BUT YOU DROPPED THE BALL ON REFILLING MY ADHD MEDS FOR THE THIRD TIME IN 2023 and frankly if they fuck me over again on today the 29th when they've told me since the 18th that it will be ready i will be punching a pharmacist for flat out lying :)
#i should not be spending my entire holiday break stressing about this!!!!#i should not be losing my MCMIND EVERY DAY#i literally was humming nonsense to myself while wandering walmart yhe other day#i can't stay still#i cant hardly get to sleep until i manage to lose all my energy while telling myself to please focus on sleeping#I DEFINITELY CANT FUCKING WRITE#I GOT TO READ TODAY ONLY BECAUSE I HAD SAVED ONE OF MY HALF DOSES FROM THE LAST TIME THIS SHIT HAPPENED TO GO SEE MY GRANDMA#i literally do not give a fuck if this isnt the pharmacy's fault I. Blame. Them.#they should be held accountable for not having a better handle on this after the last few months#if there is still a shortage you should not be making peoplr go off their medication for WEEKS at a time while we wait without you ever#updating us on whether or not it will actually be there when you tell us#in fact if your stupid fucking estimate tells me for 11 days that it will happen on a certain day and it ends up not showing on that day#you should be held fucking accountable for that#i dont want your fucking fake ass estimate i want you to get on tbe phone and tell me exactly when to expect my medicine#because i'm so sick and tired of having absolutely NOTHING i can do to get my medicine on time#i fucking HATE my brain when i dont have medicine#i hate that i'm wasting my two week break hating this fucking curse i got bestowed on me#if it continues past tomorrow into next week there's nothing on earth that can stop me from ranting to the cvs#and i do not care if they dont deserve it i am SICK AND TIRED#so anyways yes i tried to be fucking tesponsible and their cheery voice message lady tellinh me to plan ahead is such a fuckinh joke
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insanechayne · 9 months
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~ ~ ~
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gojosprettyprincess · 3 months
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A/n About mha but there's so many jjk characters I feel like would do this :3 so sorry for any errors.
Thinking about having a Pro-hero boyfriend that everyone loves, they adore him, he's just so sweet and kind yk?, literally would do anything to protect the civilians, helping people and saving them from villains. Practically risking his life every single day for others with a smile plastered on his face. Everyone looks at him with pure adoration and honor.
But behind closed doors when he's with you, he's not so nice and sweet when he has your body folded in a mating press, heavy balls slapping against your asshole as he's stabbing his cock into you in a reckless pace that has your cunt gushing and creaming all over his length, he makes sure that he's balls deep buried into your cunt to the hilt with every hard thrust. Every. Single. Time, when he's frustrated because of work, whether it's because a villain got away or he didn't get to save a civilian, he takes it all out on your poor cunt as soon he gets home, he doesn't waste a second. He doesn't even bother getting his hero costume completely off before he's rutting his hard cock into your tight hole, splitting it in two around him while he's stretching you apart.
He thrusts himself so fucking hard into you that he might almost break you one day because of how reckless he is with your poor little body, training and working out is a serious thing for him so him being so fucking bigger and stronger than you, even than a normal man is no surprise, matter a fact he practically has the body of a fucking Greek God so manhandling you into whatever fucking position he felt like bullying his cock into you in and fucking you stupid in, wasn’t that difficult for him at all.
He loves having his way with you, it's almost sadistic how he laughs and mocks you every time he has you blabbering a bunch of nonsense on his thick cock with fat tears leaking out your eyes, big strong arms flexing against you, displaying his ripped muscles while he's holding your body effortlessly as he's fucking you in full nelson, your pathetic little babbles and moans filling his ears as he's licking your tears away. Hell, he'd even have you screaming his Hero name while he has your filthy cunt making a mess all over his cock.
And Oh there's no words to describe how much he loves making you nervous and teasing you whether it's circling his thumb over your asshole, and poking it ever so slightly so he can hear the shifting of your moans, making you overthink that he's going to force his thumb inside of you, then he just chuckles and moves his thumb towards your clit to rub sloppy circles on the sensitive bud. Or whispering a bunch of nasty shit to your ear while he's ruining you because he knows how much that shit drives you crazy.
"Fucking hell I'm gonna ruin you, gonna reshape this cunt to the size of my cock so it could be perfect just for me, you get that? You belong to me".
"Such a good little cumslut f'me aren't ya baby? so fucking warm and tight for my cock".
"Fuckkk princess no one can fucking ruin this cunt like I can, your daddy's one of the best fucking heroes, only I can fuck you this good and stupid, yeah?"
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brainrotfm · 2 months
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draft title: fat cock slow sex, sukuna x f!reader
divider credits to @cafekitsune
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sukuna liked you best when you were thrashing.
he had no interest in restraints, binding your hands or feet in silly straps or cuffs to keep you still, having had several lifetimes worth of entrapment and no reason to ensnare you the same, not when he was twice your size and exponentially stronger than you could ever perceive.
no, he wanted you like this, at all times - splayed out unashamedly, blubbering nonsensically, hips wriggling for friction, small fists beating at his chest, trying to spurn a moment of reprieve or relief, whatever came quicker for the little darling trapped beneath your chosen predator.
why were you in such distress?
well, because sukuna loved taking your sopping, plushy little cunt and splitting her in half, bullying the fat girth of his cock as deep as possible before… just... stopping.
every. fucking. time. you should know better by now, always getting yourself into this mess, your fault for loving the most sadistic creature known to history —
a creature indeed, as sukuna rumbles above you, able to feel the timbre against the backs of your legs where they sat flush against his broad chest. his growling earned him a pitiful whimper in return, body twitching back and forth beneath his sheer mass, as if there was any hope for escape.
“so fucking wet for me, woman.”
“love sinking my cock into you and feeling this sweet pussy spasm around me.”
“should i sit here forever, just feeling your little cunt flex for me?”
of course, he won't move unless you beg for it. why should he? this is his favorite way to take you, after all - cunt clenching endlessly, clinging to his cock, weeping to be stuffed full of his cum whenever he pleased. he has no reason to indulge you unless you really put up a fight, and even then, he'll taunt you all the same. but beg you do, as you always do, happily the loser of this battle when this was a neverending game of his maintaining his attention.
“you sure, brat? i can always get you off just like this,” and he punctuated his point with a rough slide of his thumb over your slit, catching at your clit and pressing, “let you cum all over my cock without even moving, be my selfish little whore tonight. yeah?”
it's not enough though, never truly satisfying to finish like that, your hips twitching toward the sensation of being filled completely, satiated fully, the way that only sukuna could. only he knew how to cure the ache throbbing in your naval.
“okay little one, but you asked for it. we don’t stop til I say we stop.”
finally, finally he sat back on his heels, but there would be no mercy for you.
sukuna picked up your hips from where they rested against his impossibly large thighs, his eyes losing their focus on you. now, his gaze was trained on that delicious, glimmering cunt of yours, still pulsating around his cock, your anticipation drooling out of you. slowly, so slowly it would drive you insane, sukuna began to drag his cock back out of your perfect little heat, spit pooling in his mouth as he salivated at the sight. no point in wasting it - he spits down at the place your bodies connect, easing the pull, eliciting a twin shudder from both of you at the noise.
the problem with his misdirected focus was that it took forever for either of you to cum like this, which was the point, but you detested him sometimes for it, you really did. even if he let out the breathiest sighs of enjoyment, having you like this, that made your spine curl inside you.
when he has you right where he wants you, whimpering like a little bitch in heat, wide eyed simmering with want and unshed tears as he simply enjoys himself. inching himself out, and there's so much of him, dragging through you until the fat mushroom tip of his cock bulged the sensitive ring of your entrance - before plunging his hips forward, fucking you full in an instant, kicking the breath right out of your lungs.
your impatience was beginning to show as your hips wriggled, your breaths slipping an octave higher as a whine passed your lips right as sukuna began the slow drag out of you once again. he sighed dreamily above you, practically purring as he grinned at the trails of tears actively staining your cheeks,
“that's it, little one, cry for me. make me cum with those pretty tears."
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noearchives · 3 months
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sober me up
(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)
characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.
portgas d. ace
"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”
you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.
“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”
he pauses. “can i?”
fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?
so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.
when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.
“let’s do that again.”
trafalgar d. water law
law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.
he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.
“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”
“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.
“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.
"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.
at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.
"ah, young love." penguin sighs.
sanji
being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.
"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)
the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."
miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"
... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.
though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)
"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.
"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.
sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.
the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.
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not-terezi-pyrope · 4 months
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Often when I post an AI-neutral or AI-positive take on an anti-AI post I get blocked, so I wanted to make my own post to share my thoughts on "Nightshade", the new adversarial data poisoning attack that the Glaze people have come out with.
I've read the paper and here are my takeaways:
Firstly, this is not necessarily or primarily a tool for artists to "coat" their images like Glaze; in fact, Nightshade works best when applied to sort of carefully selected "archetypal" images, ideally ones that were already generated using generative AI using a prompt for the generic concept to be attacked (which is what the authors did in their paper). Also, the image has to be explicitly paired with a specific text caption optimized to have the most impact, which would make it pretty annoying for individual artists to deploy.
While the intent of Nightshade is to have maximum impact with minimal data poisoning, in order to attack a large model there would have to be many thousands of samples in the training data. Obviously if you have a webpage that you created specifically to host a massive gallery poisoned images, that can be fairly easily blacklisted, so you'd have to have a lot of patience and resources in order to hide these enough so they proliferate into the training datasets of major models.
The main use case for this as suggested by the authors is to protect specific copyrights. The example they use is that of Disney specifically releasing a lot of poisoned images of Mickey Mouse to prevent people generating art of him. As a large company like Disney would be more likely to have the resources to seed Nightshade images at scale, this sounds like the most plausible large scale use case for me, even if web artists could crowdsource some sort of similar generic campaign.
Either way, the optimal use case of "large organization repeatedly using generative AI models to create images, then running through another resource heavy AI model to corrupt them, then hiding them on the open web, to protect specific concepts and copyrights" doesn't sound like the big win for freedom of expression that people are going to pretend it is. This is the case for a lot of discussion around AI and I wish people would stop flagwaving for corporate copyright protections, but whatever.
The panic about AI resource use in terms of power/water is mostly bunk (AI training is done once per large model, and in terms of industrial production processes, using a single airliner flight's worth of carbon output for an industrial model that can then be used indefinitely to do useful work seems like a small fry in comparison to all the other nonsense that humanity wastes power on). However, given that deploying this at scale would be a huge compute sink, it's ironic to see anti-AI activists for that is a talking point hyping this up so much.
In terms of actual attack effectiveness; like Glaze, this once again relies on analysis of the feature space of current public models such as Stable Diffusion. This means that effectiveness is reduced on other models with differing architectures and training sets. However, also like Glaze, it looks like the overall "world feature space" that generative models fit to is generalisable enough that this attack will work across models.
That means that if this does get deployed at scale, it could definitely fuck with a lot of current systems. That said, once again, it'd likely have a bigger effect on indie and open source generation projects than the massive corporate monoliths who are probably working to secure proprietary data sets, like I believe Adobe Firefly did. I don't like how these attacks concentrate the power up.
The generalisation of the attack doesn't mean that this can't be defended against, but it does mean that you'd likely need to invest in bespoke measures; e.g. specifically training a detector on a large dataset of Nightshade poison in order to filter them out, spending more time and labour curating your input dataset, or designing radically different architectures that don't produce a comparably similar virtual feature space. I.e. the effect of this being used at scale wouldn't eliminate "AI art", but it could potentially cause a headache for people all around and limit accessibility for hobbyists (although presumably curated datasets would trickle down eventually).
All in all a bit of a dick move that will make things harder for people in general, but I suppose that's the point, and what people who want to deploy this at scale are aiming for. I suppose with public data scraping that sort of thing is fair game I guess.
Additionally, since making my first reply I've had a look at their website:
Used responsibly, Nightshade can help deter model trainers who disregard copyrights, opt-out lists, and do-not-scrape/robots.txt directives. It does not rely on the kindness of model trainers, but instead associates a small incremental price on each piece of data scraped and trained without authorization. Nightshade's goal is not to break models, but to increase the cost of training on unlicensed data, such that licensing images from their creators becomes a viable alternative.
Once again we see that the intended impact of Nightshade is not to eliminate generative AI but to make it infeasible for models to be created and trained by without a corporate money-bag to pay licensing fees for guaranteed clean data. I generally feel that this focuses power upwards and is overall a bad move. If anything, this sort of model, where only large corporations can create and control AI tools, will do nothing to help counter the economic displacement without worker protection that is the real issue with AI systems deployment, but will exacerbate the problem of the benefits of those systems being more constrained to said large corporations.
Kinda sucks how that gets pushed through by lying to small artists about the importance of copyright law for their own small-scale works (ignoring the fact that processing derived metadata from web images is pretty damn clearly a fair use application).
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
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The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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MDNI, Mentions of sex but no smut, violence.
Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who’s scow immediately returned to his face as soon as you and your daughter were out of sight. Wasting no time to march to the elevator and hit the button to your floor.
Baby daddy!Miguel who couldn’t help but let out a scoff in disgust when he turned the corner of your hall and saw Henry sitting on the floor against your door. Not noticing until he was close enough that he was passed out, head lulled to the side, and an occasional snores leaving him as Miguel glared down at him.
Baby daddy!Miguel who had to resist the urge to wake him up with a swift punch in the face, and not stop until he wasn’t conscious again.
Baby daddy!Miguel that opted to instead nudged him with the side of his foot. Wanting to see what bullshit he’s spew out first.
What you ever say in this guy, Miguel will never understand, what you’d see in any guy that wasn’t him he’d never understand. Although to be fair, when you were with him, he probably wasn’t as pitiful looking as this.
“Not so much of a cocky ass now huh?” He couldn’t help but mumble to himself before taking the heel end of his foot and nudged the smaller male's knee. “Wake up.”
After a few more nudges, Henry woke with a loud snore, droopy eyes looking around in confusion before he finally noticed the legs in front of him. Neck cracking up slowly until he was met with the sight of Miguel’s body hulking over him. The overhead lights casting a shadow over his face so he couldn’t read his expression, and if Henry was just a tad bit less drunk, he’d feel the death-like glare being casted on him.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” He slurred, remembering why he was outside your door in the first place.
“None of your business.” Miguel retorted, hands crossing in front of his chest. Despite his scary guard dog aura, Henry tsked in annoyance as he began to stand.
“I think knowing where my girlfriend is my business-“
“She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”
Silence filled the air as Henry was finally able to get himself up on two feet, before a scoff left his lips.
“She already told you. I’m not surprised.” Now it was Miguel’s turn to scoff.
“Of course she told me. I'm the father of her child-“
“I knew something had to still be going on with you two.” Henry’s finger jabbed into Miguel’s chest, his drunken slurring forming into a bit of a hiss. Not phasing the bored look on Miguel’s face. “I’m not fucking blind, I’ve seen the way you looked at her. You’re still in love with her.”
“Look, I’m not wanting to cause any problems,” that’s a lie, “but it’s obvious you’ve had too much to drink and are just talking nonsense. She doesn’t want to see you, alright? So how about you walk away and leave her and my daughter alone.” Miguel spoke calmly, not denying the allegations thrown his way before they both knew it was true.
Miguel’s hand found its way to Henry’s back, not-so-gently pushing him towards the elevator and away from your front door.
“I’m not stupid as you think I am, man.” Henry retorted, planting his heels into the wooden floor to stop himself, before turning around to face Miguel again. “You’re not over her, you don’t think I knew what you were doing at the barbecue when you were dancing with her? Practically fucking her in front of me.” Miguel’s jaw clenched to keep himself from acting irrationally as Henry hissed at him like a dog ready to attack. “The way you always try to one up me in front of her. I’ve seen your messages to her, the old photos, the Spanish nicknames-.”
“Alright that’s enough dude.” Miguel interrupted him. Tone returning to its harsher original one.
“I’m not surprised the minute the opportunity comes, she runs back to your ass!” Henry shoved against Miguel, causing no recoil from the larger man.
“I’m not the one who cheated on her.” Miguel snapped back.
“Yeah, but you were just waiting for the opportunity for me to fuck up. Look like some…knight in shining armor.”
“Okay, man let’s go. You’re not gonna be able to finish this fight. Go home.” That’s when he felt it, a harsh pain on the side of his face. He didn’t realize till he touched his cheekbone and hissed at the throbbing sensation that came from the area that had transpired.
Henry just punched him in the face.
“I wanted to be nice. You already put her through a lot of shit in the past few days.” He mumbled as he rubbed the stop that was sure to bruise black and blue. “But you decided to make this more difficult for yourself.”
Henry didn’t have a chance to reply before his back collided with the wall, air being knocked out from his lungs as Miguel’s hands found their way to Henry's throat.
“You wanna know what happened the night she caught your ass sleeping with another girl?” The question was rhetorical.
“…What?” Henry asked, voice meek under the weight of Miguel’s hands.
“I got her to stop crying, comforted her… got her some food… then I started fucking her till she starts to cry again.”
“You son of-“ Henry began, trying to thrash his way out from under Migue, only to have more pressure applied to his throat. He quickly stopped when he felt himself become light headed, arms that were around Miguel’s wrist drop back down to his sides, and a cough left his throat when the hands around his neck loosened slightly so he could breathe a bit more properly again.
“You’re gonna shut up and listen, and listen good.” Miguel began, his voice dropping down to just above a whisper. Allowing Henry to let out a frantic nod before continuing. “I was the one who comforted her when you fucked up and broke her heart. I was the one who was there to pick up the pieces, not you. I’m the only one who knows her better than she knows herself. I’m the father of her child, me. It was always gonna be me. You weren’t the one who changed her baby’s diapers, you weren’t the one who taught Gabi to ride a bike, you weren’t there for her like I was. You never will, because when it comes down to it, she’ll pick me over you, every. damn. time.”
Miguel didn’t know what felt better, finally getting Henry to shit his smug ass up, for being able to get all his frustrated thoughts out in words.
“She’s mine, she’s always been mine, she's always going to be mine. So don’t for another second, think that you can just walk back into her life and act like you own her. You don’t own shit, you understand?” Miguel finally ended his rant, eyes narrowed as he waited for Henry’s response. Satisfaction flowing through his veins when the smaller male looked like he had just just been face to face with the grim reaper himself.
“I-yeah, yes-I understand.” Henry finally stuttered, face paled, and eyes wide.
“Good, now I want you to walk out of this building, and walk out of her life. If I see you or hear you trying to talk to her ever again, I’m not gonna do as much talking next time.”
Part 8<
Not proofread.
Word count:1.2k
TAGLIST IS CLOSED!
taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush
@queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker
@pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry
@haveclayeveryday @leonsbimbogf @bmoplanet @carmison @c4rm1son
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@ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade
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jvzebel-x · 1 year
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🦋
#so just about 50% of my identifiying personally as an activist is mostly a joke.#i am not organized enough to be anything but loud LMAO.#but the other 50% of the time its mostly bc in certain circles&discussions-- mostly the ones where having&claiming any form of labeled id#immediately makes your existence political or divisive-- if you have any fleshed out opinion at all#youre treated like either an activist or an educator just for taking up intellectual space lmao#&i Will Not be mistaken for an educator lmao i am Not here to educate anyone. im like. barely here to debate anyone or even attempt#to change opinions lmao. usually im just being loud bc this is my natural state. &when confronted by anyone who#'just wants to play devils advocate' or whatever i am not unclear in the fact that i not only think a conversation is a waste of my time#i also do not see anything at all they could give me in exchange for my time opinion or experience#&i wont risk overexposure to stupidity so some asshole can do the equivalent of scribble w a crayon on a college level dissertation#as if they exist on the same playing field or deserve serious attention for their puddle-deep insight lmao.#its the kinder way of saying i would rather curbstomp a motherfucker than waste my time discussing something that is#MY reality&THEIR abstract theory lmao like stay fucking stupid i definitely dont give a fuck.#&like i understand (+very much value) the educators in these circles who are willing to do the work&sift thru the nonsense#&take the INFURIATING amount of abuse levied at them. i just. could NEVER be one lmao.
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daisynik7 · 10 months
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test drive
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Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader
Word Count: ~4.9k
cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)
Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one.  Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.
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“Eren, do you think we should break up?”
The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”
It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?
You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”
He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”
“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?” 
He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive. 
“It’s not going to be easy.”
He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”
You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him. 
Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”
He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”
“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.
“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”
“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”
He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”
You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it. 
“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?
“Eren,” you beg, sniffling
“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze. 
“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”
“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.
That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. 
The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse. 
It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now. 
That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago. 
Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s. 
Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.
Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you. 
You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed. 
So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on. 
The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his. 
The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead? 
Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.
He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time. 
As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.
He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you. 
You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”
This is going to be harder than you thought. 
~~~
Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years. 
Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever. 
It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on. 
Move on. Yeah right.
He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted? 
He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.
When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out. 
What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan. 
When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan. 
He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. 
She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected. 
He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”
She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”
He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. 
She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”
“Yup.”
She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”
He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”
He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?” 
Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?
She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”
“Still the passenger princess, I see.” 
“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors. 
He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is 
Fuck the plan. 
~~~
You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed. 
He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.
He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak. 
Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”
You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. 
After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you. 
When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”
He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”
You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”
The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”
“I never wanted to in the first place.”
Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”
“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.” 
His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you. 
You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”
He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.  
“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. 
“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”
“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”
“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”
Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”
He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”
Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”
Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”
You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”
Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”
He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”
You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”
Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”
“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip. 
You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”
You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him. 
You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine. 
“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more. 
“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”
It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face. 
“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking. 
Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”
He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance. 
You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together. 
“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.
“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. 
“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression. 
“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose. 
“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”
You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”
You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”
He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”
“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”
He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”
“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.
“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours. 
“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”
He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”
You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”
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bby-deerling · 5 months
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floral & fading (law x reader nsfw)
18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.7k masterlist
a secret santa present for my lovely anie <3 @strawheart-pirate
cw: afab!reader, piv, rough sex, scratching, choking, hate sex kinda, law is bad with feelings, reader is also kinda bad with feelings, angst, bittersweet, hurt no comfort, you let this guy hit once and he's totally obsessed w/ you, strawhat!reader, messy relationship dynamics
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Law needs you desperately despite the fact he knows he cannot have you.
He hadn’t intended to get attached to you, not in the slightest.  Mind scattered, full of adrenaline, and buzzing with alcohol, he had meant for you to be nothing more than a late-night drunken distraction from the flood of emotions he felt after the events of Dressrosa.  Somewhere in the murky deep of the back of his mind, you had snuck in and sank your ragged claws into the sulci of his brain, to the point where he can barely close his eyes without picturing your mischievous smirk, or the contortions on your face as he fucked you, squeezing his tattooed hand around your throat.
For all intents and purposes, Law couldn’t stand you.  Brimming with intelligence and wit, you squandered your potential by wasting precious time goofing around with Luffy.  The strategic and combative skills you possess in battle make you an essential asset to your crew, but you were resistant to discussing any sort of long-term plan with him, insisting that wasn’t how Luffy rolled—it drove him crazy, and gave him the deep urge to break you until you finally relented and decided to use your mind properly like he wanted you to.
“Come on, Traffy!  Tell us who won!” you exclaim one day after a water gun fight, out of breath and nearly falling over as you slide along the wet deck in your flip flops, Luffy close behind you.
Law rolls his eyes and sighs, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading.  “How should I know?  I wasn’t paying attention to your nonsense.” he says in his usual dry monotone.
“Traffy, you were supposed to be watching us!” Luffy whines, putting his hands on his hips as he pouts.  Law ignores both of you, hoping you would eventually find another judge to determine the victor of your silly game; he thinks you’re finally discussing finding someone else to bother when you whisper something in Luffy’s ear that makes your Captain giggle maniacally.
“We decided to team up.” Luffy says proudly.  Law catches your grin in his peripherals, but continues to sit, eyes fixed on the pages in his lap, and ignores you, a mistake that would soon lead to his downfall. 
“So…You lose!” you shout with a grin.
With your words comes a stream of water straight to his face, followed by a second, less accurately aimed jet from Luffy that drenches his book and leaves Law fuming.  You keep that infuriating, mischievous grin plastered across your face, but he slightly smirks as he notices the way you swallow hard as he glares at you, a silent acknowledgment that you knew you were certainly in for it now.
“Shishishi—you’re in trouble with Traffy!  Not me though, I’m gettin’ away!” Luffy cackles, using his rubber arms to swing to the other side of the ship, leaving you to Law’s devices, and oh, did he have plans for you.  
Your idiocy had earned you a harsh quickie in the library, full of bites and dirty talk and nails dragging into his back.
“F-Fuck, Traffy—” you whimper as he bucks his hips harshly, filling you up so deeply his cock brushes against your cervix.
He yanks on your hair harshly and sinks his teeth into your neck, not caring in the slightest if he leaves marks on your precious, unblemished skin.  “Brat.  Say my name properly.” he hisses in your ear, wanting nothing more than to hear the word fall off your lips.
“Mmmf, ‘m sorry, Law…” you whine, tilting your head towards him to give him more access to your neck.  Law—hearing you drop the nickname and letting his real name drip off your tongue drives him wild and makes him drive his cock into you even harder as he bites and sucks along the column of your neck.  The familiarity and intimacy of it—even though it’s entirely manufactured, and he would never dream of displaying a similar vulnerability and dropping the -ya­ from your name—allows him to pretend you care more than you do.  It lets him pretend you care as much as he does.
“You better be.” he whispers, roughly clawing at your back with his jagged nails.  He wanted a string of apologies out of you before he was done—he’d already coaxed one out of you for spraying him in the face with the water gun, but burrowing your way under his skin and refusing to evacuate was the much more severe crime at hand, one with a sentence that ended up benefiting you both physically, but left him in a mental state even more frazzled and unfocused than before.
Irrationality began to cloud his judgement even more so as time went on, and he insists on you being in the group he brings to Wano with him.  Having you on the Polar Tang, even for a short time, is intoxicating to him—with the temptation of having you so close overpowering him, he finds himself uncharacteristically taking breaks from his work to use you for stress-relief.  He tells himself that’s all it is despite the fact he knows it’s a weak lie.  You’ve deciphered his feelings by this point; he can see it written on your face, though you cautiously say nothing.  Instead, you hang around after your unsavory activities, following him around the submarine and staying up late at his side, curiously and gently prying at aspects of himself that he thought he had locked away for good.  He’s furious at you for the way you’re able to unravel him, ripping him open emotionally just as he tears at your insides physically, and he takes his frustrations out on you accordingly.  However, you never seem to mind, and take all he gives you in strides; he’s mean, nasty, and rough with you in bed, but no matter how hard he tries to keep control, there’s a glint in your eyes that says you’re the one with the real power—you’re the one who can get the Surgeon of Death to snap and succumb to his base urges, and it enthralls you, much to his continued frustration.
He finds himself obsessing over you so deeply that he makes every excuse to keep you apart from your crewmates until the rest arrived with Sanji in tow.  He gives you a cover story to keep you close to him and continues his façade of this simply being sex to him, though you both know it’s more at this point.
“I like you, Law. I've gotten attached.” you said one night, words nearly drowned out by the chorus of cicadas hissing in the distance.
You were curled into his side, fingers tracing along his chest tattoos; it’s a rare moment where he lets you to show him affection like this, and your confession makes him deeply regret allowing you this luxury.  Despite the way your presence makes his heart contort and twist, despite all the hoops he’s jumped through to keep you close to him, and despite the fact that if he keeps his feelings bottled up for too much longer, he may never get the chance to vocalize them, he remains stubborn, letting a painful silence emanate into the night.
“It’s silly of me, I know, but I can’t help it.” you whisper, flinching at the way your voice cracks in the process. 
At times, Law saw you as obnoxious and silly, but you were also clever, compassionate, understanding, and strong, especially as you withstand all of his erratic mood swings as he sorts out his feelings for you—that’s why it cuts him to the bone when he causes you pain like this.
“Neither can I.” he whispers, unable to hold his sentiments back any longer.  He feels a touch lighter, but is not surprised when the melancholy resting between the two of you remains hanging in the air, coating you like a blanket.  After all, this could not and would not last forever, and once this alliance ends, the only glimpse he may ever get of you again might be on your wanted poster.
When all of the business in Wano ends, he has half the mind to take you for himself—to make you his and refuse to let go no matter how much Luffy begged him to release you, but he knows you would never leave your friends and go with him willingly.  Maybe that’s what infuriates him most—no matter how intimate and soft your half-lidded stare is while he fucks the daylights out of you, you would always love the sea, freedom, and your stupid antics with your crew more than him.  No amount of late-night conversations, full of hesitant divulgences and barriers broken, and no amount of physical contact would ever permanently tie you together, despite how much he wished that wasn’t the case.
Law knows this is the last time he’ll have you beneath him, close to him, and vulnerable for him, but he can’t bring himself to be gentle, overwhelmed by the violent storm in his chest.  Laid out and panting, your fingers curl into the sheets beneath you as his skilled fingers work magic on your clit.  Just as your thighs begin to twitch, he pulls his hand away, delighting in the way you whine and plead with him in frustration.  Inked fingers roughly squeeze the sides of your windpipe, making you squeak for him.
“You didn’t think I’d let you have it this easy, did you?” he taunts, using his other hand to grip your chin, smirking as he hovers over you before planting his lips onto yours.  Heated, deep, and full of longing on both sides, the kiss is enough to nearly pull his heart apart in two.  He takes great care to memorize the drag of your lips against his, the way the plush skin of your hips feels in his grasp, and the grip of your walls against him as his cock slides deep inside of you.
If this is the last time Law is going to have you, he is intent on drawing it out as long as he possibly can before he lets you go.  He just wishes things didn’t have to end this way.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
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