#human decency is SEXY BTW | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ronearoundblindly · 11 months

Note

Ari- pre baby....: Your boss is being cruel and said a horrible thing about you to the bosses of your boss about you

Warnings for--WOAH THIS GOT SO OUT OF HAND--yeah, so, bad/rude management, bit of angst and language, relatively-tame protective!Ari but look at this guy, nothing tame about him, and then not-at-all-tame sexy!Ari again please just look at him and I dare you to tell me I'm wrong, smut, bit of praise/dominance? maybe, mostly just hng. (I'm FINE, btw, I'm not like lonely or repressed at all, FWIW, this is a totally normal reaction to...whatever. I have no shame anymore. 🤷🏻‍♀️) MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty for minors to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not for you! WC Who the hell knows. My guess is 2.5k about...

Too Eager, a Bedrock and Blueprints drabble

Sometimes you can tell by the way someone says something, they do not mean it kindly.

He's done it once before, your boss, described you as 'eager' when you volunteered to stay late and help with a project one of your coworkers messed up before leaving on an international vacation.

Someone had to do it, and at the time, you had no one to go home to. Why not? Dedication to your work makes you look good, right?

Wrong.

Apparently, eagerness crosses a line, and it's not a helpful or useful line. It's this ambiguous veil that you've passed through into being 'a woman' in this line of work. Eagerness translated to submissive and meek to your boss. He thinks you're a pushover now, and what's worse is there's no way to undo that stigma.

If you refuse to do extra, now that you have willingly done so before, you're not being a team player, you're being lazy, or you're clearly having 'a bad day.'

None of that is true, of course. You simply have a terrible boss, a man unable to interpret basic human decency without mansplaining it through a 1950s sepia filter for the incompetent.

You've come home crying a handful of times, played it off as nothing important to your boyfriend, and convinced Ari that you're just having those adulting pains that come with a full-time salaried position in a company hoping to do everything under the sun with as few employees as possible.

You're just worn thin. That's all. Ari understands that.

He even accepts that excuse for a time.

But then the phone call happens.

No, you aren't on the phone, and no, you are not meant to hear your boss say it to his bosses, but you do.

You once again 'volunteered' to finish a late project--if you can call being stared at by everyone in a meeting following the question "Who will handle this by Friday?" a voluntary choice--and walk past your boss's office to the restroom.

"Yeah, Donny--" clearly speaking to his own boss, Mr. Donovan, a golfing buddy once the courses open "--you know how these girls get. They're so eager to prove themselves. She's never said no."

Well, that just about sends you.

You're shaking by the time you wash your hands, splashing cool water on your neck in an effort to control the rising heat of anger. Frustration prickles behind your eyes.

Concentrating is impossible, and you text Ari to let him know you will be much later than initially thought. What can you do? What can you say that doesn't sound vindictive or childish? What happens when you go back on your word to get this done?

He joked about it, but saying 'no' runs a huge risk for someone like you. There's competition for this job. You had to work for years to be given this promotion even. Sure, you earned it, but it can be taken away just as easily.

Your boss knows that. Your boss's boss knows that. You think Ari knows that as well, but he actually doesn't.

Ari comes to pick you up, but when you refuse to come down to the truck, swearing you can't leave yet, he walks right on up to the offices.

He finds you in silent tears at your desk and kisses your forehead without a word. Your boss still chats in his office, seemingly avoiding going home to his own wife, loudly discussing the need for a new 9-iron.

Ari rips the phone out of the man's hand and disconnects the phone call.

"Hi, you don't know me and you don't want to," Ari starts with a huff that accounts for exactly 4% of his actual outrage at this moment, "but I'm here to pick up my girlfriend. She's been here--" he checks his watch "--an hour and forty-five minutes longer than necessary waiting for you to do your fu--job, and I'm taking her home. I assume you are capable of finishing your own damn work without supervision."

"It's not my job," your boss spits back.

"You're the manager. You've done her job before. You can do it again. It's what they pay you for."

Six-foot-scary Ari steps around the desk to prove his point.

"Unless you're so fucking lazy--" he tried not to curse, he really tried "--that you'd rather pay her double for every single second she puts up with your incompetence, daily, I suggest you get off your ass and do the work yourself."

The phone starts ringing beside him, and Ari picks it up.

"Hold please." He presses the receiver to his broad chest and glares daggers at the alarmed piece of shit cowering in a rolling chair. "She won't be here past five P.M. anymore, will she? Will she?"

Your boss shakes his head, taking the phone when Ari offers it, expressionless.

For good measure, Ari shoves the nearest stack of papers off the desk before stepping over the mess and walking out.

The entire ride home he thinks about how much he'd like to lodge that 9-iron so far up the guy's ass...and then realizes you're still crying quietly in your seat.

"Kid, I'm sorry. I swear, it'll be fine. He can't fire you for that. You still did more than you were supposed to, and if it takes him forever, that's his fault."

But you don't speak. Not when he rubs at your shoulders. Not when he opens the door for you. Not when you go to lay on the couch instead of eating dinner with him.

Ari sets a plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, but you ignore him and turn over, curling into yourself.

Sure, yelling at your boss wasn't his most tactical move ever, but that bastard's been messing with your confidence for so long. Ari couldn't take it anymore; he doesn't know how you have taken it for so long.

You must have fallen asleep.

Groggy, empty of that hot anger and embarrassment that fueled you before, you turn willingly when Ari sits on the couch and places your legs in his lap.

He’s quiet and gentle, stroking your calves below your work skirt, asking what you want or what you need, but your mind is just blank.

With the TV turned down, it’s just a hum behind Ari’s focused and flickering face as he watches you in rapture. He knows your bad days. He hates them as much as you do. He hates to see you as anything less than content, but he most loves to see you happy.

“Let’s get you comfy, okay?”

He rolls the zipper of your skirt down at your side and yanks it free slowly. He runs his hands up your body and back, under your blouse, to unhook your bra, ghosting a kiss to your clothed chest before sitting back up to tug at your tights. He didn’t say anything about you only taking your shoes off at the edge of the couch, which means Ari is being remarkably controlled for how much he hates shoes in the house. As he playfully shimmies the long and frustrating tubes of nylon over your feet, you sit up to pull off everything up top, letting the blouse and bra drop to the floor and crossing your arms over your bare breasts.

“Cold?”

You nod, and Ari takes off his own t-shirt right there to help you into. It’s warm from his body and each fiber smells deeply of a decade of comfort. His hands return to holding your thighs.

“Better?”

Yes, but you don’t want to talk about it.

You lay back and stare at the ceiling, watching what looks like blue flames dance over the beams and plaster. It wasn’t really your responsibility, it wasn’t truly your job you didn’t finish before walking out of the office, and it wasn’t even you who encouraged Ari to blow up at that shithead boss of yours, but tension and irritation still rise in your chest, constricting you as if the cotton switched to lead threads by some alchemy.

One of Ari’s large hands settles on your stomach beneath his shirt. Though it adds weight, the touch is human and grounding. He cares for you. He wants to take care of you, and sure, maybe his attempts have been imperfect so far but they show a willingness to listen and work. His other fingers draw patterns over the inside of your thigh, and he digs into the soft flesh a little more when you clench.

That tickles. He knows it tickles.

But he says nothing. He asks nothing. He stares forward like this is the most interesting silent movie he’s ever seen, except there’s definitely a lot of talking and he can’t hear a word.

He settles into an absentminded pace, and you don’t notice his position steadily moving until the tip of Ari’s index finger starts teasing over your panties.

His gaze doesn’t shift from the television. Ari’s pace doesn’t change at all for what feels like minutes, but you can’t be sure because you’re not able to pay attention to anything but that featherlight drag over your skin.

You turn slightly, and his hand presses heavier into your belly, pinning you there. As his fingers push closer, drawing more distinct and deliberate circles, you grab hold of his wrist, and Ari hums.

“More? You like that, sweetheart?”

He stops to instead trace the edges of your panties, letting you whimper and squeeze him, rubbing your thighs together over his lap.

“Maybe these are in the way, huh? Should I—“

You’re already lifting your knees to help.

Ari chuckles as he slides off your underwear. You gasp when he doesn’t let both of your legs back down though, hooking one behind his head to keep you open and exposed to him. He doesn’t fake watching the screen anymore. He scoots closer until your hips are propped up on his thigh, folding you at the mercy of his fingers.

“That’s it. Let me in.”

Though he’s no longer teasing, your boyfriend takes his time working in one, then two, then three fingers. As he becomes more engrossed in your sounds and little wiggles of response, Ari turns toward you, kissing the inside of your knee and thigh, drawn in by the sight of you taking him in so smoothly.

He coos when you tighten around him, shallowing his movements in favor of curling those fingers and rubbing his palm against your clit.

Your grip on his wrist is frantic while that tether in your gut threatens to snap. The scrambling makes Ari flip his pressing hand over for you to grasp.

“That’s it,” he encourages hoarsely. “There she is.”

He knows exactly how to fuck you, exactly how to throw you over that cliff and break you apart exquisitely, and he loves to watch.

“More,” Ari demands over your cries and the loud squelching of wetness between you. “Give me more. I know you can.” His hand holding yours remains weighty and urgent against your body as you convulse, milking your orgasm for all its worth and then ripping away to watch your cunt flutter around nothing. “Fuck, yes. More.”

You’re only vaguely aware that Ari shoves his drenched hand down his sweatpants to slick himself, squeezing your grip back.

“More,” you repeat.

Ari groans, tearing the pants down away from his hips to fist his cock harder at your words. “Yeah?” He licks his dry lips after a ragged breath. “That’s what you want? More?”

The only answer you can muster is bringing your joined hands up and sucking two of his fingers into your mouth, a grunt of unbridled lust punched from his naked chest.

He hurriedly picks up your clothes, stuffing them under your ass as a makeshift pillow so he can straddle the side of the couch and fuck into you, your leg still over his shoulder. His shirt rides up as he tweaks your nipples between those same rough, sticky fingers.

He huffs out praise—how beautiful you are, how good you feel, how grateful he is that you let him give you this—and tells you to take whatever you want, to come whenever you want.

Your jaw goes slack, but Ari immediately uses that spit to swirl around your bundle of nerves as he drives in faster, deeper, harder. The only thing your mind can hold onto while your body floats is the sound of him teetering on the edge of ecstasy with you.

He slows to ease you through the overwhelming intensity. It takes you a long time to notice he’s remained hard inside you, and after sweetly petting all over your skin to ground you, he almost pulls out.

You tense.

“You didn’t finish.” It’s a question and condemnation in one.

“You didn’t tell me to,” he says with a debauched smile.

Gingerly, Ari lowers your leg down to hook around his waist, bending to nuzzle against the long line of your sweaty throat, pressed to where oxygen rushes in and out of your ravaged body.

“Go on. Practice. Boss me around.” He leans back, ready. “You know I’m only too eager to please you, kid. Anytime.”

It’s kind and genuine, an open invitation, a request you can refuse, but you don’t want to say ‘no’ to Ari. He is patient and receptive, loyal and respectful. He protects you when you flounder to see your own worth. You’re wanted and needed. The advantage is all yours. You are neither submissive nor meek; you are as dedicated to your pleasure as you are to Ari’s. That’s the whole package. That’s the woman he loves.

Eagerness is not a fault. It’s a gift you give to each other and your lives.

“Okay, then, old man—“ you reach to scratch through his thick beard “—take me to bed. We’ve got work to do.”

Ari grins and scoops you up with sudden energy before realizing he’s about to trip over the sweatpants pooling around his ankles. You laugh, and he curses up a storm, kicking them onto the floor by your shoes.

Like he did that first day in the house, the first day he showed how much he felt for you, Ari follows orders and carries you down the hall.

A/N: I had a lot of trouble editing this because the month of May just melts my brain with how busy it gets. Hopefully, this turned out okay. I got a sudden bit of inspo when I woke up the other day, and it seemed like the way to go at the time...Now, I'm not so sure. I'm going out on a limb and posting this anyway. If it's trash, please let me know, and I'll redo it!

Taglist: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @jamneuromain @nana1000night

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #bedrock and blueprints #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fluff #sinful sunday #series

198 notes · View notes

flying-elliska · 4 years

Text

I did a speed run through the Magnus Archives (horror podcast with queer rep btw) - meaning I listened to most of s1 and s2 then read through a lot of transcripts and only listened to the most plot relevant ones - because that thing is ungodly long and the mother of all slow burns - and now I’m going back to listen to the ones I skipped. It has some flaws, but overall I really enjoyed it. It’s especially fun to listen to while biking through the woods for additional ~ spooky vibes ~

It’s the sort of horror story I love - not contemptible idiots and caricatures mucking around and getting gruesomely ‘punished for their sins’ to show that humanity is inherently Bad, which is conservative psy-op - but flawed, complex characters written with compassion and trying to get by in a hostile universe. It avoids easy bullshit like relying on jump scares, sexual violence or animal deaths to be scary. Instead it’s very haunting stuff that you think about in hindsight - and deeply sad, and at times surprisingly soft and cozy with all the little moments of humanity and decency between the horror. Lots of space for rich emotion like regret, hope, grief, loss, hubris, shame, anger, etc. Like they’re all trying so hard !!! and mostly failing, and it’s tragic, but a lot of the time, it’s not their actual fault and there is something deeply soothing in that, for some reason, or their fault for reasons that are very understandable and in-character and never villified. The game was rigged against them. It’s like...the opposite of puritanical guilt-tripping. And at the same time - when they’re touching on stuff that is closer to reality, like a character that faces a metaphor for depression, or another that becomes blind, they manage to write it in a way that is somehow empowering and/or healing. It’s a masterclass in how to write Fear in a way that is (mostly) not exploitative and instead makes people feel Seen (lol).

Also, almost all the characters, whether mains or sides or antagonists, are interesting. And the worldbuilding is out of this world like !!!! the amount of clues, intricate warring factions and buildup !!! I am in awe. Plus the whole living under the eye (lol) of Dread Powers that are so vast and incomprehensible as to be undefeatable and infiltrate every aspect of our lives thing is very critique of modern capitalism/authoritarianism/surveillance society etc etc and that’s very sexy of them. It’s also kinda poetic, in a very dark way, and manages to somehow not be too depressing despite its subject matter because there is a lot of irony and awe in there.

As for the queer rep I wouldn’t watch it for that because it’s very secondary to the weekly story anthology format and extremely slow-burn. But i do love that it has at least three bi characters, one of which is ace, which is extra cool considering how a lot of bi characters tend to be written as overly sexual. And the main love story is so very sweet as a sort of foil to how dark everything else is. Like, love as the anchor of decency and humanity when everything else goes to shit is just !!!!!! yeah !!!!!! my thing !!!!!!! I’m afraid of how tragic the ending is going to be but overall I’m digging it (Not enough Melanie and Georgie though ! they are my Faves and I would definitely listen to a spin off about them.) Also sometimes it weirdly helps with anxiety because you get out of there and realize well...life is actually not that bad after all lmao.

I want to blog about it more but it doesn’t really fit the happy vibes of this blog so I started a sideblog for spooky shit, horror, monster theory, scary ladies, gothic lit and to start early with some quality Halloween hype lmao here :

@scary-elliska

#tma #the magnus archives

23 notes · View notes

biderboy · 3 years

Note

💫 - i hope these are still open! if not, then i am so so sorry for sending this in!!

fandom: harry potter (marauders era pretty please!)

facts/info:

i’m actually really really self conscious even though i constantly say things like; ✨ “i know i’m just so hot.” “and that’s so sexy of me.” “i’m just too beautiful for this world!” ✨ (i promise i’m not stuck up/self absorbed! i think this might just be me trying to cover up my insecurities,,, but not everyone gets that rip)

i’m a pretty good pranking partner hehe! i always think a prank through and make sure that me and whoever i’m pulling a prank with don’t get in trouble at all. (if we do get caught, i pull out Plan C and come up with an excuse to get! us! out! of! there! asap!)

pickup lines are my favorite, i love them so so much!! i will drop pickup lines at the most random times ever and if someone says one back i swear i will melt. (the pickup line competition had begun 😈)

i am a very very accepting person haha! i also love to hear all about people and their libes! the good, the bad, the happy, the sad, everythinggg!!! i will accept them with open arms no matter what (unless it’s like against my morals and basic human decency) BUT!!! i don’t push people to open up, things take time and i am perfectly willing to wait as long as it takes 🥰‼️

i am very very very protective towards the people i love! if i see someone picking on a friend or just being yucky, i will not hesitate to step in and call them out. it is never, under any circumstances, okay to hurt the people i love.

i’m a pretty sarcastic person and i love puns!! (i especially like how they seem to annoy certain people 😈) i have a very mixed sense of humor so catch me laughing at a cute innocent pun one day, then me laughing at like the darkest of jokes, and THEN me making a dirty not pg-13 joke out of nowhere ✋🏾😭 i also like making fun of myself a lot so be prepared for that ❤️ i also tend to be so dramatic to the point where it’s comedic and then someone once told me that it genuinely makes them laugh and that just? made me?? so happy???

sexuality+gender preference: i am bi with a pretty strong preference for guys 💓

thank you thank you so so much in advance! and oh gosh uh this is quite long... i’m so very sorry if it’s too much! i kind get carried away when i’m excited 😩‼️

CONGRATS ON REACHING 700 BTW‼️‼️

your energy is swag asf and i smile everytime you pop up on my dash 💞

THANK U BESTIE UGH ! 😩🥰

i ship you with frank longbottom but also remus lupin <3

#sorin’s 700 sleepover !

1 note · View note

ambered-glazed-sheep · 4 years

Note

I've been watching a let's play of doom eternal (a guy called cohhcarnage) and I'm just so tickled by the thought of that silent brute slowly becoming compassionate to the point that he no longer fights to kill, but bc he actually Cares about the ppl he's saving

i feel like doomslayer really cares! he really wants to save people!

he would care about the people if they weren’t all huge jerks to him!

like seriously, i can’t say much about eternal but so far the only time he’s interacting with humans is the cutscene where he walks trough that facility (very sexy cutscene btw) and everyone is either a) scared of him or b) talks shit about him.

and in doom 2016, we only see him reacting with two people: olivia pierce and Samuel hayden. both kinda had a mentality of ‘hey lets open a portal to hell! oh we’re hurting innocent people? whoops! who cares!’ and doomslayer just Does Not Vibe with that mindset. one of them also literally said ‘well i can’t kill you so YEET’ and teleported him away after Doomslayer spent the entire game doing his bidding (arguably)

So honestly, if the hermits show him some basic human decency and actually talk to him as a person... i don’t think it’s that far fetched he would actually calm down and enjoy his time in this not-demon-infested world a little bit.

18 notes · View notes

obaewankenope · 7 years

Text

Yesterday I was talking with my mother about things in the car (namely her relationship) and we ended up, somehow, talking about the fact that people in relationships aren’t ‘meant’ to be interested in other people; ie not meant to look at someone who might be aesthetically pleasing/sexy/pretty-in-general.

Now, as a mostly aromantic asexual, I of course have a mild issue with this.

I like to look at people (not in a sexual way but in a general “ooh, human being, nice outfit, I like those colours, they match so well omg” kinda way). I also appreciate people for their bodies, as I’m sure pretty much everyone on the planet does in some way, shape, or form. For me it’s more aesthetics; nice hair, lovely proportions, a nice smile, that sort of thing.

(FYI, this applies to all people, abled or disabled, etc etc)

Anyway, I ended up trying to point out to my mother that, no there’s not really anything wrong with looking so long as you’re respectful about it (and by ‘respectful’ I mean, don’t frickin drool or start with lewd comments to someone who really isn’t interested; basic decency, people, it’s really neat to employ in all situations). I mean, I mentioned the fact that I think our farrier is pretty cute (“cute butt” is actual phrase I used jokingly because, well, if any of you have horses, ya’ll know; it’s usually the butt of the farrier you see most of the time haha) as well as the fact that one of the girls on the yard is pretty cute too. Her response is probably going to stick with me for a long time because, not even five minutes beforehand, she’d essentially casually dismissed my very understanding and experience with relationships (which, granted, is not a lot haha…ha). Anyway, what she said in response to both those observations of cuteness by myself was:

“Well you would”

Which… really? I mean, I get that she doesn’t really understand anything other than straight and gay. I know she’s like “oh I know gay people” which comprises of me, my now bi friend, my darling polyspouses on here and like… two other people her own age. So she doesn’t really know gay people, she knows the conception and her very limited experiences of lgbt individuals. I mean, she’s not a fan of lesbians because one tried to hit on her once, like thirty years ago, (and even though she emphasises that the woman apologised a lot and everything, she still avoids anyone who’s openly lesbian). She doesn’t like me having male friends (which sucks for her bc that’s essentially all I had for like five years ahahaha) unless they’re gay, but she also doesn’t like the idea that I might want to date anyone female because, in her words “women are bitches and way worse than any guy you could date”.

So, the day I told her, “oh I’m asexual” and explained that it meant I’m essentially not big on the sex, she was fucking ecstatic. You’d think she’d won the lottery or sth.

Of course, now that I’m in a poly relationship with my beautiful spouses, and have had some experiences in relationships (I mean, I really have dated in the past, I just… don’t find it a necessity for existence which is weird apparently idk), both romantic and physical, the fact that she’s constantly coming to me asking for relationship advice (which she doesn’t heed at all btw; sorry mother, lying to your partner tends to bite you in the ass one day, jsyk), the tables have turned.

I’ve had her dismiss my advice because “well you’ve never been in a relationship before” and also “I’m not just talking about sex” when discussing her relationship. It’s like she has this fundamental lack of understanding that relationships aren’t about sex and, even if they were, if I loved someone enough to have sex with them, it’d be because I appreciate them that fucking much I’d be willing to engage in something I’m not personally fond of for them.

I mean, I’m ranting now about this (or venting, venting is probably a better word for this), but my original point that I’ve been trying to make in my long-winded, confusing way is this;

I am mostly aromantic asexual.

But mostly doesn’t mean completely.

Biromantic is a good term because gods but I’m absolutely blown away by both men and women.

Panromantic might be better because it’s not the gender/sex that appeals to me.

Sapioromantic is probably best because if you’re a smart cookie (or just generally a witty one) I’m likely adoring you.

Asexual is the best term I’ve found so far because I’m honestly not interested in sex. It’s not something I need. I just need… intimacy.

(And jsyk, if you think sex is the way you get intimacy in a relationship then 1) you’re wrong, 2) a relationship is more than just sex, 3) you can have intimacy in talking, cuddling, holding hands, so many other things as well so sods to you)

Okay, I’m sorry, I’m done. I was planning on making this a big, happy thing with jokes and humour and stuff because it’s pride month but… well, apparently I cannot do that with this. What a surprise.

#lgbt #pride #asexuality #aromanticism #biromanticism #bisexuality #sapiosexual #sapioromantic #personal #i vented okay #it happens lol #not usually like this but eh

9 notes · View notes