steve and robin would get hired at a mafia front

"Satoru, enough." you sound exasperated, tired eyes glaring at your laptop screen as you try to find another peer-reviewed article for your essay topic. However, you had to admit nothing was getting done and it wasn't only because of your boyfriend. "Satoru, enough~" He practically sang back to you, that same shit-eating grin plastered to his face. His hands were finding their way to your thighs again, only stopping when you would reach down and swat him away with one of your signature death glares. So, you repeated the motion again, slapping his hands off of you but not bothering to look at him.

"C'mon, sweetheart you've been glued to your laptop since you got home from work." He somehow managed to sound just as exasperated as you had. "Because I have things due, Satoru." It wasn't a lie, but the essay wasn't due for a few days. You could certainly afford to hold off on it for another day, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. "Yeah, well, I'll pay off the professor. I want your attention," he whined again, this time flinching when your hand came down to grab his wrist before he could touch you. "And I am busy, go bother someone else." the bite in your tone didn't bother him at all, if anything it made his cock twitch.

"You wound me." Satoru's hand came up to splay over his heart, head falling back dramatically as he looked at you. "Good." was all you uttered, the tension in your shoulders only adding to your aggression as you fought the urge to throw your laptop. Nothing you had tried to read in the last twenty minutes registered in your brain and one single paragraph was glaring back at you on your Word doc. Now add Satoru teasing the shit out of you every fifteen seconds... you were going to snap or self-destruct, it depended on Satoru at this point.

"Just take a damn break, you're getting bitchy." He smirked at you, watching your entire body tense as your neck nearly snapped with the force you used to turn your head. "Do you have a death wish, Satoru?" your jaw was clenched, if looks could kill, Satoru would be dead four times over by now. "I do, but that's beside the point. You couldn't lay a finger on me and have it cause damage." he sneered, trying to ignore the blood flow to his dick as you got steadily worked up. He wasn't sure if it could be classified as a kink, but Satoru got off on you being pissed. He craved your hand slapping his skin and your nails digging into his scalp. He would do whatever it took to get you mad just to see that adorable pout on your face.

You knew this by now, and it wasn't hard to miss the strain forming in his sweats. "You're sick and twisted, Satoru." You refused to close your laptop, giving your boyfriend one last disinterested look before your eyes settled on a random point on your screen. You wouldn't give in to his games. "You fucking love it." he moved closer, hand resting on your thigh and squeezing harshly when you couldn't move fast enough to slap him away. You gasped, body shivering at the sensation before you recollected yourself and tried to swat him away. "I'm serious, Satoru. Leave me alone." but Satoru was smarter than that. "You haven't typed anything worthwhile on that word doc. Let me take care of you, I can clear your head real fucking fast."

Your answer was rolling your eyes, earning a low rumble of laughter from your boyfriend. That was the nail in the coffin, you could only yell in protest as he snatched your laptop off of your lap and tossed it over to the chair beside your couch. "Satoru!" You squeaked, heart dropping to your ass as he flung the object. "Relax." was all he said in return, catching you while your guard was down and pushing you onto the couch. You let out a string of curses, awkwardly pressed face-first into the cushion as Satoru grabbed both of your wrists and restrained them behind your back. "Just relax."

I'm a mess of unfinished thoughts.

18+, suggestive, unfinished

John Price with a pretty housewife who wants to please everyone who surrounds her. When John tells her that he wants to invite the boys over to meet her, she’s already planning everything to the most minor detail. When the day arrives she can’t help but feel a tightness in her stomach when watching the three unknown men in her living room talking about how nice the house is and how tasty the appetizers she prepared are.

John isn’t oblivious to her body language, he sees how her fingers fidget at every compliment and how she “subtly” rubs her tights, he knows what happening, and the warmth radiating off her body is another indicator—his pretty girl gets so wet when she’s praised it’s pathetic.

He sees how his men look at her legs and chest, exposed by the short sundress that she decided to wear, there’s lust in their eyes…

this is just the starting of a thought i had last night, i wanna write it but i don’t really know how to continue :(( if anyone knows what could fit here, be my guest

Went to bed with an unfinished poem in my mouth and could not kiss.

— Vera Pavlova, "Heaven Is Not Verbose: A Notebook." Translated by Steven Seymour. (via Poetry Foundation)

boy pussy miguel o'hara? hes alr got a fat ass and child bearing hips imagine so he can like yknow control how the suit opens n closes (his introduction) so like him opening just that part of it so you can finger him when you want to :( just coming up behind him when hes sitting down nd working nd sitting behind him nd resting on his shoulder nd moving ur hand down nd teasing him :( so he opens his suit up for you so you can finger fuck him nd he leans his head back nd hes moaning so loud :(((( sticking ur fingers im his mouth nd running them along his fangs :(( aughhhhghhgggghhh im devastated i wasnt that much into him while watching the movie but then after i was looking at the fanart and it went into full affecr bro i wanna tie him up SO bad you dont understand and his teeth nd :( tying him up and suspending him from the celing nd teasing anf letting his pussy drip on the floor nd seeing how much it pools :( nd teasing him for it :(( calling him a messy little boy :( nd being so mean to him slapping him around calling him a bitch who cant control himself :((( auhghthfhhhggghhhh twlling him how pretty his cunt is :( auhhhhh putting a ring gag in his mouth nd his fangs over it :( nd him drooling everywhere :( i want to write a whole fic of this kms

I know Grian just misspoke when he said he owed a heart to Joel from last season (instead of last session), but it kind of makes sense to me?? Because of course he'd feel like he was in debt after Joel needed more time in Limited Life and Grian couldn't give him it.

Hanahaki Writing Prompt

Another thing that's been in the drafts forever (dated from Feb 13) that I think other people could have fun with. Just had a one sentence idea (bolded below) that wouldn't leave my head until I typed this up.

The flower disease thing; Eddie determined to die before admitting his feelings (self-worth issues and whatnot). Ends in the culmination of Steve shouting like "God, Eddie, why couldn't it have been me you loved? I'd of loved you right, loved you forever, loved you like you deserved and not whoever this piece of shit is that's killing you-" and Eddie blue-screening like 'what the fuck are you saying right now' because it's Steve he's in love with but Eddie has convinced himself that Steve wouldn't love him back.

Tag me if you use the sentence! (Also just tag me in anything y'all write because I love to read it all honestly)

Could we get some more headcanons? 👀

I've got some clone headcanons here, ad some world building [ // warnings for mentions of war, and experimentation? technically? ]

I've mentioned how EvilX is a clone yea? alright. So yadda yadda lore lore, centuries ago the overworld caused a whole stupid war between the Nether, and Aether. something something the Watchers are involved the Overworld soldiers get their asses out of there, the Aether just gets "Destroyed". Bunch of lore and shit that I'll write out another day.

What is important here is back then the Overworld was at a huge lack of resources and soldiers. So what is their grand idea to save themselves? Obviously just make their own players out of nothing! It definitely takes time to, you know, Create a whole new player in a lab, so there's a bunch of failed experiments over the years, a handful of almost successful clones that couldn't make it past a day sometimes. The whole trial and error of trying to match the proper genetics together to created something that actually lives.

Enter in good ol XisumaVoid, a random soldier who near never takes off their helmet, and joined a war because they believed the Overworld was correct in the moment. The soldier who happened to become good friends with the scientists who where running the cloning experiments and saw no issue letting said scientists experiment with his genetics, because surely nothing successful would come form trying to create a clone out of him. and here we are with Clone 0258, some addressed them as CloneVoid or something close enough to that. We know them as EvilXisuma. The first successful clone created by the Overworld scientists, and the clone that paved the way for the army's of clones know as the Alex's and Steve's. Clones made successful due to the scientist having access to the genetic code of a voidwalker and having the full ability to mix that with any other human willing enough to give their identity to science. And good gods the overworld commanders in charge of the war did not hold back in making as many clones as they possibly could.

I've lost the motivation to actually sort out the rest of my thoughts for this one. my apologies' for that, I just cant properly put together the points I need,,, there's some other ideas, but the main one is "The clones fucked and the reason a lot of players look like Steve's is because they are decedents of said clones."

Me lookin at Ren/Joe/Keralis/too many of the dammed hermits who used Steve but different skins: your great great great grand pappy was a clone fucker /j

In Rico's Florida Fantasy he wears all white, while Joe wears blue pants. The white clothes are like the robe of an angel, and his fantasy is his own personal heaven. In other words, the fantasy literally forshadows his death. Joe doesn't wear white because he is not dying.

I just finished watching Sword AF and I love how these things inspire me so much to be creative. The downside is that i have exams rn and don't have time for my hobbies for another week.

Guess I'll just sit here with buzzing energy and stars in my eyes and write a report instead ;-;

i think like.. there are sometimes ways i’m rewarding to have in your life the way a child is. because i can have times when what i need is very simple, and helping me a lot is easy for you to do. but then you aren’t stuck with an actual child most of the time which is also nice. plus you can have sex with me.

(and a lot of brainweird people enjoy using.. more explicitly ‘infantilising-type’ framings for thinking about this and that is fine for them. i don’t but one cannot fully grapple with the broader infantilisation issue without thinking about all the parts. i think.)

steve tastes blood for weeks after biting the demobat. the inside of his mouth feels like it's coated in iron. he shrugs it off as the lingering effects of being unprotected in the upside down, pushes it aside so that he can be there for anyone who needs him. gets used to it.

it isn't until he's on his knees vomiting from overexertion that he realises that it's been stress, his body trying to force him to take a break, calm down.

Ancients realised that the ocean and our tears share a taste and went crazy.. But what does that mean? That the generations before us have gone thought so much of sorrow so much of suffering that even the ocean cries in midst of night.

Started writing smthng a while ago, dont think im gonna be completing it anytime soon :/

i wanna fuck blade SOOOOOOOOOOOO bad oh my malora pulling his hair so hard hes a sadistic fuck but if you smack the shit outta him hed definitely like it

Some people know what they want to do with the rest of their life from the time they’re 6 years old and they follow through with it all the way through college and into their professional careers.

Nancy Wheeler seems like the kind of girl who knew she wanted to be a journalist since she joined the school newspaper in 7th grade. By freshman year of high school, she knew Emerson was the college she wanted to go to. She knew the classes she would take her first semester and by the time she graduated she had her entire college career pre-planned and mapped out, a perfect guide that, if followed to the T, would have her graduating with a bachelor’s in journalism in three years rather than four. She’d even looked into the internships she’d take after graduating and masters programs.

But college often has a way of shifting everything you think you know about yourself and the plans you have made…