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featherwriterweather · 3 years

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Fiesty will get burned Sweat pea/Reader (Y/N) smut warning

Its been a rough two weeks since the Southside Serpents joined Riverdale high. But we all got used to it. The Bulldogs stopped harrasing them, the Serpents laid back and Midge was finally laid to rest with her real murderer in prison.

Toni, a Serpent girl who I befrended the first day they came in school, was sitting next to me in the school lounge. We were casually talking as usual with Betty and Ronni. Soon after Cheryl joined us and we couldn’t help but gossip around the Vixens and the latest dating rumours. The bell rang and the usual gang of boys with Serpent tattoes came our way.

Jug was talking with Archie, while Fangs and Sweet pea went for a hot cup of coffee from the machine behind me.

“When are you reptiles going to learn that you can’t be eyeing down our girls?” Reggie Mantle, in his full shine, blurted out.

“What the hell is your problem, Mantle?” Sweat Pea replied, his big body ready for a fight.

“I saw you eyeing this bimbo out” Reggie said pointing his head towards me. Sweat pea was all well familiar with my name as he usually saw me hanging all day with Toni.

“First, do not call her anything else but her name, and second, what’s the problem if I was?” he said.

“First, this asshole Foggarty was screwing Midge, and now you think you can screw another of our own?” With this words that Reggie had spoken I had had it.

“Listen you testosterone filled dickheads, I am not a piece of meat you can fight over. Lay off Mantle, screw you and your stupid Buldog shit, he can do whatever he wants.” I heard Sweat pea chuckle so I turned to him “And you arogant jackass, don’t think we all girls fall in your feet cause you’re tall and got some looks going on. We’re not that blind!” I finished off proud of myself and the shoked looks I had brought to their faces. Everyone around us, especially the Serpents, cheered me for this comment. Fangs was uncontrollably laughing behind Sweet pea's shoulder.

“Well, we have to admit you are some Serpent lady material. No one has put Sweat pea on his place that good so far.” Toni said smirking at me from her place she took next to me.

“Nor has had the balls to talk to a Serpent like you did! Watch it!” Sweat pea shortened the distance between us so I was directly looking at his face literally breathing my air in his lips.

“For sure these balls are bigger than yours, Sweat pea!” I smartmouthed him,which earned me more Serpent cheers and toast in the air from Toni and her coffee cup.

“Wanna bet on it?!” He casually laughed and raised his eyebrow at me.

“If you want to make me laugh, go ahed!” I sad

“Oh, you are fiesty one, aren’t you? I will make you scream under me!” he said so sure in himself.

“For help, you mean? Yeah, probably!” I laughed daring him to close the distance even more. I started to like this little competition we had on who will come up with more bitter comment.

“Alright, you two. If you’re gonna fuck, take it to somewhere private. We want to study here so let’s go!” Ronni had interviened to stop us from ripping each other after Reggie left the room with disgusted look on his eyes. But I can assure you, the other Serpents loved the show.

The rest of the day went pretty boring. The classes were boring, so were the homeworks and the project. Me and Toni were texting all the time. She was going back and forth how she still couldn’t believe I put Sweat pea to his place.

As I was walking out the doors towards the lot, I saw his sitting on his bike waiting for someone.

“Hey,fiesty girl!” He said when he saw me nearing him.

“What the heck do you want now, Sweat pea?” I asked as I was trying to pass him by and go to my car.

“We didn’t finish our earlier conversation. I thought you had more to say about me and my balls.” he smirked with his hands crossed in front of his chest, making it look even more muscular. I had to admit I had definitely laid eyes on him, even if Reggie was exaggerating and he did not eye me out.

“I’ve got a lot more to say if you are ready to hear it. But I’ll save it to myself. I don’t wanna hurt this little Serpent bad boy impersonator’s ego.” I said lightly patting on his chest while trying to walk away.

“Not so fast! You got my interest. Wanna go for a drive?” he said holding my hand firmly, not letting me go.

“Where are you going to take me? By the river where you plan on drawning me because I got the balls to tell you to shut the fuck up? And let me remind you that I am pretty sure my balls are bigger than yours.” I snapped back trying to yank my hand form him.

“I don’t plan on killing you. That would mean I will not see your pretty face again. Who would smartmouth me then? But I do have the intention of making you scream, as I said earlier.” he laughed out as he started the engine of his bike and shoved the helmet in my hand. “Hop on!”

I debate for a little with myself. I had interest in this ball of rage since he entered the school. As time went on and the more I hung with Toni, the more I learned that he is not that bad at all. At least I got that his honor sense was much bigger than the one any other dickhead at our age had.

“Well, are you coming?” He asked smiling, ready to drive off.

“I better be coming or you are going to be sorry for making me do this”I said as I hopped on the bike behind him.

“You never miss a change to out smart my words” He roared the machine “I have the full intention of making you come, at least a couple of times.” he added, underlining the word “come” with his tone as we drove off.

The ride was joyful but pretty soon I found myself in fron of his trailer. He stopped the engine and I got off. I gave him back the helmet. He set it down and got off the bike himself. Then we walked to the front door in complete and utter silence. He unlocked the door painfully slow to me and let me go inside first. I took a look around and turned only to find him towering me with his tall figure. I didn’t say a word nor did he. By that time we had said it all. We got the idea of what we both wanted to do with the other and so did our peers, as it seemed.

I slowly walked a few steps closer to him and I pushed his Serpent jacked off his broad shoulders. He smirked and took off his grey tee over his head revealing to me his muscular chest. I looked him from head to toe and touched his chest with my hand slowly. It made him not move an inch. I bit my lower lip and looked him straight in the eye. “Are you going to kiss me or you are going to stay here half naked the entire time?” I sad pushing myself into him.

“Not another invitation is needed, fiesty.” he answered as he closed the distance between us. His lips met mine and it all went blank. Clothes were flying everywhere around his kitchen. He reached slowly for under my bum and lifted me up to put me on the countertop. The cold tiles met my naked thighs. His lips were trailing kisses down my neck making me gasp for air with each kiss.

“Aren’t you a little too dressed for this, boy?” I asked undoing his belt and then his jeans. He didn’t respond. He was too busy taking off my underwear, letting it join the pile of clothes next to the table. He pushed down his jeans and his big and rock hard dick was exposed in front of me.

“What are you gonna say now, ha? Last chance to back out or else you will scream my name by the end of it.” he said all the while touching my already wet folds.

“I am not scared of you, Pea. Show me what you got. Prove me I was wrong.” I dared him.

Slowly he closed all space between us as he entered me in one move. How good it felt! His hands held my thighs and he started pulling out and pushing back inside making me whimp and moan loudly in his ear while he was kissing my neck. His breaths were deep and quick. His mouth eventually found its way to my breast, sucking and kissing on the skin. It made me throw my head back in pleasure.

Again in one easy motion, he picked me up again and moved me to the table. My legs wrapped around his torso to bring him even closer, if that was any possible. His trusts were getting quicker by the minute, making me slowly loose control. His lips found its way back mine and started playing dangerous game of biting and sucking.

“Girls who play with fire get their fingers burned” he wispered in my ear as he continued to pound in and out with deep trusts inside me.

“What make you think I don’t like to play with fire,ha? Maybe I will burn you more than you will burn me!” I said.

He pulled out of me and took my hand to pull me up in front of him. After that he turned me around and gently pushed me forward so I rested my palms on the surface of the table. He entered me from his position behind me and resumed fucking me hard one more time.

“You’re dripping wet, you know that? It drives me fucking crazy how wet I made you. I bet you can feel how big my balls are now. Do you have anything to say?” he hissed in my neck.

“Yes, I have. Shut up and make me feel those balls! I wanna be wet just by thinking of you and it’s not going to happen if you continue to talk.” I told him bending over a little bit more to grant him more access to me.

My moans were becoming uncontrollable by the second and so were his. I was already shaking under him as he grabbed me by the hair, gently pulling on it.

“Are you close, my fiesty girl? I can feel you getting tighter. Cum for me. I want to feel you. Scream for me as you let go. I want to hear you.” I obeyed him. I nodded my head and leaned back into him giving in completely to the sensation of my hard orgasm rocking my body. My muscles trembled and I pressed myself further into him as his name slipped off my lips. I felt him smile at the crook of my neck as he let out deep throated moan and let himself cum as well.

We were sweating and still trembling from the sex we just had. But he didn’t miss the chance to remind me what I had said.

“So, fiesty! What do you have to say now? I didn’t hear you scream for help. I heard you screaming for me not to stop and my name, as well. I guess I was right.” he said as he leaned back at the counter after he had put his boxers on.

We both knew it wasn’t going to be just a hook up fight. It all went on from there with me puting him in his place after which I was always shown what I can get if I ask politely. But to ask politely for a booty call from Sweet pea is never as fun.

I went right up to him after I put on my panties as well and pressed my body into his. “Shut the fuck up! Do you ever stop being so cocky? Bite your tongue and kiss me.” I ordered as I pulled his head down to meet my lips. He snaked his hand around my waist pulling me closer to him and giving in the kiss.

When I went into his bathroom to refresh myself after our little fiasko, I looked into the mirror and saw two big black purple hickeys on my neck. He made sure it would be visible for everyone the next day that he had proven me wrong and I learned my lesson. Oh, boy! He was in trouble and so was I.

#sweet pea #riverdale #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea smut #riverdale smut #riverdale imagine #southside serpents #bad boy #open requests #riverdale southside #sweet pea and reader

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calamariimpossible · 3 years

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Magicians on the internet, crypto, and the email that broke me.

This is a continuation of a twitter thread that Muz (@mzkrx) started to write out in his car but then when he plotted out his thoughts, it made more sense to him to put it down in a blog format rather than a thread. You'll find out why as you read through.

Stuck in the car for half an hour so I'm gonna do a thread (Editor's note: Now a whole-ass blog post) about a strange email I got recently.

So I was casually watching magic tricks on YouTube. the funnest part of which to me is reading the comments. YouTube commenters love explaining how they think the trick is done and it's fun to read through their theories and connect dots between similar tricks, etc.

And then one time as I was scrolling I noticed a comment that didn't make sense. It was a string of an almost sentence. Intelligible enough to not be random words but odd enough to read like a trigger phrase for something.

The closest I can describe it as is like the string Zemo used to wake up the Winter Soldier, but with some syntax to it. Like "many thermos wiggle throughout exotic harbinger of circle ascending fuchsia entrapment".

Initially I thought nothing of it, but then I kept seeing them in these magic trick video comment sections. They're never the same string, and it's always under magic trick videos. from different channels even.

Hmmm.

The profiles that posted these comments are also always blank accounts with zero videos and no profile pic. Just their name. I felt like it was too much of a coincidence for these comments to only be under magic trick videos.

I also knew that the world of performance magic is thick with secrets. That is to say, there is deliberate obfuscation of information whenever you try to go online to find out how a trick works.

Magicians get together online and share information with each other just like performers of every other sort as well but the amount of code and doublespeak they use is an order of magnitude more annoying to decipher compared to say, an engineering message board or a gamedev forum.

Knowing that, I thought maybe this almost parsable gibberish I keep seeing everywhere was also some kind of code these people were using to talk to each other.

So I started investigating.

First things first, let's just Google one of the phrases. Maybe that's enough?

And it sorta was.

Pasting them onto the search bar lent me to only 1 result (wild!) and it was a website that looked really dank. Like geocities dank. Annoying neon colours and badly margined jpegs of tarot card images everywhere and a big bold header text that said something to the effect of:

"Congratulations, you've found our hidden message. This portal is only for those seeking knowledge beyond what is on the surface. Continue below."

* * *

I haven't been doing well. I feel like I say that too much. I say it on Patreon, on my personal podcast, whenever any of my friends ask me how I'm doing, pretty much everywhere. I feel very heavy. I understand I'm not the only one feeling like this during a pandemic.

Duh.

But I have this other version of worry that I can't quite articulate until right now: I'm scared I won't be funny anymore. Anwar and Farid can attest that even during our recordings I don't feel up to being funny. I question my jokes a lot. I barely enjoy telling them. I'm worried I'm letting everyone down.

To me, silliness and absurdism as virtues only make sense when the world has trace amounts of injustice and wrongness that training ourselves to see it in our everyday helps us remind ourselves of what is just and fair. The more we consume silliness, the more we are able to recognize silly and point it out. So we don't ignore it when things go wrong, so we talk about it, manage it. So we can take care of each other.

Maybe I can't be sure if we're all up for taking care of each other right now.

* * *

"Continue below" seems instructive, but it wasn't. Like I mentioned, the margins were haphazard and the CSS was all over the place. Some jpegs were straight up cropped off.

Meaning I can't be sure what "below" meant. But there were clickable images and text so I was readily intrigued.

It was tantalizing. Did I stumble into some secret order of Extremely Online Magicians? Maybe I'll finally find out why there aren't many female magicians out there. Maybe it's some sort of secret initiation to a secret message board full of secrety secrets. Secretly.

Y'all.

I didn't click on any of the linked images or anything. I closed the tab. That was the end of that.

An earlier version of myself would gladly run headlong into this rabbit hole to find out more and sink hours into some goddessforsaken labyrinth of links. But the current version of me recognizes this for what it almost certainly is: an abandoned roleplaying game.

Back in the early 00s when the internet was the realm of nerds and nerds only, it was full of people who loved sharing things for sharing's sake. It used to be punk rock to maintain a blog that only talked about snails or have a lo-fi YouTube channel that uploads biweekly 3-minute news about your house, or manage a little message board where people roleplay as wizards who rummage around the net looking for clues.

That last part was a thing I remember being actively involved in. In '03, a group of online friends and I wrote up a scavenger hunt of sorts where we sent people through various blog pages that we have where the goal is to just dick around and have fun. We wasted each other's time for sure. Hundreds of hours of it for literally no gain at all but for some laughs and fun memories.

The internet isn't like that anymore. People don't share something online for sharing anymore. Not really. There's this idea that if you put stuff out there, you want people's attention because numbers are good. You get a lotta reblogs and RTs and Likes which means people Like you.

If you don't have a lotta numbers, you don't matter. If you do, everyone has to talk about what you said or did because it's 'News' now.

Isn't that kinda gross, you think? That we need people to interact through an app to be sure that we're Liked? I say "we" but I mean me. I've successfully poisoned my brain to believe this to a certain extent too and it's not good.

I felt myself physically react when I closed that geocities magician website tab. I shuddered because my brain went from "this is cool" to "I gotta let people know I found this" to "this'll get me hella RTs" to "ew Muz why did you think that" within 3 seconds and I was disgusted with myself.

As a dude who started my online presence on YouTube and parlayed it into my real life comedy/writing career, I've believed for a long time that doing good work and putting it out there is what it takes for a working creative to make it because that's what I did. So there's this idea that making stuff and having it be seen is some kind of virtuous.

But it's not anymore. People pick fights with children for clout. Newspapers post about people's tweets as if its important. People are investing in crypto, a thing that literally only exists as electrical waste on a grand scale. We're boiling the oceans to yell at each other over nothing and exchange bits of code everyone agrees has ever-rising value but doesn't. Everyone is making and eating junk, it feels like.

So am I making junk? Have I just been making useless junk for literally over a decade now? Is that what I've been good for this entire time?

* * *

So the email.

It was a response from a company I applied to for a job. I applied as a creative writer and they're an advertising agency.

Receiving emails from a prospective employer when you're in need of a job is exciting! So soon after I applied, too. Wonderful. Here's what it said:

We just received your application today but would love to extend the opportunity for you to participate in the Case Competition as a prerequisite of your job application for Creative Writer position with [REDACTED] and stand a chance to be a winner for cash awards up to a total worth of RM1,800.

Yea.

They want me to enter a competition where I compete with other candidates to get a chance of being hired.

This company saw how many people applied for a job with them, and decided to dangle some cash and throw it over the fence to see which candidate will fight for it the most.

I didn't expect to feel vomitous after reading an email but that did it. I almost dry heaved. That's where we are now.

Recruiters see a glut of applicants and decided to play Fall Guys. These people watch Istana Takeshi and think Takeshi is the good guy. It hurts. It hurt me. That email caused me pain.

I can't at all empathise with recruiters who think this was okay to do. They really believed that creative writers will do a little dance for them just for money.

Look, I know we all need to eat. But I can also hate that people undervalue the work of creatives to this painful extent.

I don't give a shit about earning a lot of dough. I just wanna make things that tickle people. I want you to smile more.

That's the whole point of that weird little YouTube comment that led to the quirky website. That's the whole idea of making silly videos and dumb tweets and memes. We just want you to laugh.

But it seems people think so little of joy that they'll do whatever they can to avoid legitimately supporting and paying for stuff that gets them through the day. So much so that they want free work from us for the potential of maybe being able to get paid for more work. It breaks me, man.

I hate that I cannot make a living just trying my best to make people happy.

That's the best way I know to take care of you.

I know I don't just 'make junk' for a living. People have messaged me personally that my work has helped them get through tough times in school, in their relationships, at the office and I am eternally grateful that they took the time to tell me that.

I just also wish my feelings about my work aren't easily brought down by the majority of people who insist its worthless. Even if sometimes those people is me.

So forgive me if I won't be funny for a while. I'm gonna need some time to process this. Thank you for reading. I love you.

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screensirenfic · 5 years

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Black Leather - Chapter 25

When I arrived at Charlie’s; it seemed like that little bubble we’d resided in for the past sixteen hours had burst.

The radio was reduced back to a low buzz and the awkward silence was resumed; both me and Billy clearly struggling with the words to say.

Maybe because we both knew this was it; that there was no way what we had here was sustainable.

I mean; till yesterday everyone, including ourselves, thought we’d be at each other’s throats forever.

We couldn’t just walk into school on Monday like we were suddenly a couple; could we?

No; we couldn’t.

Billy was a dick in school, and besides; Steve hated him, and I couldn’t do that to my best friend.

This was a one time thing; a one night stand, even though the word tasted bitter on my tongue.

There’d never been any discussions on relationships and feelings; even if Billy had been gentle with me, planting whispered kisses of affection on my hair, leaving lover’s touches on my skin.

On Monday morning Billy and I would act as if everything was the same, and last night and the morning after would be abandoned to memories; just another wet dream I’d be embarrassed about come morning.

Billy put the car in park, leaving the engine running as we both sat unmoving in the car, both gathering the nerve to face the inevitable.

“Thanks for the ride...” I began; the words coming out awkward and clunky; and when had things got so hard again?

We’d been talking so easily just ten minutes ago. Like it’d actually meant something; like we were actually in...

No; I was jumping to conclusions again.

Stop being stupid; Lola! Get your head screwed back on.

“And everything else.” I floundered, and I wanted to say so much more, because like it or not; last night had been a big deal to me, and Billy had been a lot of my firsts, but I wasn’t his.

And that’s what I had to remember. I was just another notch in the ever growing bedpost of Billy’s lays.

“No problem.” Billy replied; his eyes remaining unfocused on the road ahead, a cigarette lit between his lips, but this couldn’t be it.

He seemed so distant. Cold, but I’d seen the real Billy last night, and in the early hours of the morning; and he wasn’t like this.

This was that asshole from Tina’s party.

This wasn’t the man who’d clinged to me last night when voices were raising into dangerous territories; his hands soft and warm.

“I had a good time last night.” I continued; pulling my jacket tighter around me, trying desperately to get him to turn back into that boy from the night before, but goddamnit; it was like pulling teeth and I just wanted him to say something; anything.

Billy just nodded, eyes still fixed on the road, and I couldn’t work out if he was actually agreeing with me, or his mind was somewhere else and he was just doing it out of instinct.

I stared at him for a minute; trying to work out what I’d said wrong, or maybe I was just being too clingy.

Why was he being like this?

Was this really his plan all along? To use me for sex, then just ignore me like I was another tick on his ledger?

I should’ve been angry, but really I was just disappointed.

I’d begun to expect more from Billy, but turns out he was just another fuck up in the long list of things that had gone wrong in my life.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, opening the car door in a hurry, because I could feel tears at the corners of my eyes, and goddamnit; why the fuck was I so emotional all the time?!

“I guess I’ll see you in school.” I muttered, eager to get out of the car, because it had just dawned upon me that I might’ve made a big mistake; one that I couldn’t blame on bad liquor and teenage merriment.

I climbed out, and made my way around the car, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

I could tell I was about to cry, but I couldn’t let that happen. I had work, and I was running late, and...

“Lola; hold on a sec”

Billy’s voice cut through the air like a gunshot, and I half expected him to tell me I’d forgotten my keys in the front seat, or something stupid like that.

I braced myself, trying my best to put on a neutral face, because I couldn’t let him see I was upset.

I turned to face him, noting how even now he didn’t make eye contact; too busy tapping his cigarette on the steering wheel, knocking off leaves of ash that was sure to stain the carpet.

“Can I see you again?” He asked; the words stiff and formal and not at all what I’d expected coming out of the mouth of a serial womaniser like Billy Hargrove.

I was taken aback for a moment, because I’d been dead convinced that this had been it; that he’d pull over and let me out and we’d go on pretending we barely knew each other.

I’d prepared myself for it; talking sense to myself in a hundred different ways, because there was no way Billy Hargrove was capable of any kind of commitment.

I hadn’t prepared myself for this.

I stared at him, suddenly left speechless, taking in what I now realised was the posture of a nervous man.

Billy was hunched slightly, his blue eyes flickering between the carpet and the windshield; like he couldn’t decide what was safer to settle on.

He looked scared, and excited, and agitated; but most of all, he looked pretty.

But he always had, hadn’t he?

It was my first thought when he’d pulled up outside Hawkins High; blaring music and billowing gasoline.

Not hot, not sexy, but pretty; plain and simple.

Maybe I’d always seen the innocence in Billy, buried deep beneath all that bravado and smoke; the kinda guy he could actually truly be.

Maybe I’d just been that naive; my rational thoughts brought tumbling down by that simple adjective; pretty.

But I realised Billy was waiting for an answer, and it wasn’t fair for me to keep him waiting any longer.

“Yeah...” I uttered; the word so soft it was almost a whisper. “I think I’d like that.”

Billy smiled; a radiant, beautiful thing, and his eyes raised up to meet mine.

“So; tonight? I’ll pick you up around six?” He asked, and it brought a smile on my face, because it dawned upon me that maybe Billy hadn’t had to ask someone on an actual date before.

“Seven.” I corrected him; already well versed in driving hard bargains with stubborn men in nice cars.

“Gotta make up the hours. Some asshole interrupted me during work yesterday.” I teased, because Billy got my sense of humour; laughter lighting up his bright blue eyes.

I backed towards the shop, still not prepared to tear my eyes away from him, just in case he was a mirage and I’d actually been tossed out on Billy’s doorstep this morning in nothing but my underwear.

“Make it six thirty; I still haven’t finished my apology.” Billy bartered; the man’s sexual enthusiasm never failing to astound me.

“Billy Hargrove; you are insatiable.” I scoffed, barely containing a smile, because only he could make this a competition.

“Are you complaining?!” He retorted, quirking an eyebrow with a smirk that was plain sinful.

I just laughed, because we’d had a very similar debate less than an hour ago, and judging by how it ended; it’d be best to let him win again.

I made my way back over to his car, leaning in through the open window so I could grab him by his jacket collar and pull him in for a kiss.

This time it only took seconds for him to respond, mouth pressing hard against mine with the clear intent of deepening it, but I didn’t let him.

Billy had already occupied too much of my morning and my head. Instead I pulled away, still remaining close enough that I could make out that slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Six thirty.” I agreed; my voice just a little bit breathless.

“Six thirty.” He repeated; not breaking eye contact for even a second.

I gave him one last kiss; this one quick and soft, because I guess I couldn’t keep my hands off Billy either, not after we’d agreed to see each other on a more permanent basis.

Then I pulled away, turning my back on Billy, because I didn’t quite trust myself not to climb in his lap then and there after the morning we’d had.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked into the auto shop, but this time, it was appreciated; me exaggerating the sway in my hips, because maybe he deserved something to keep him going until tonight.

“Good thing I didn’t call your dad; eh?” Called out Charlie, who was sat at the front desk stock listing; a thinly veiled look of amusement on his face as he watched me and Billy’s exchange.

“Sorry I’m late, Charlie.” I apologised; hoping that a complete lack of snark would make him drop the subject entirely.

“Yeah; I can see you were very busy.” He drawled; that cat who got the cream look reminding me he’d raised three daughters and considered me a surrogate third.

“This is gonna stay between us; right?” I asked hesitantly; knowing Charlie sometimes went drinking with my dad, and this is the exact sort of shit I’d expect them to give each other a heads up about.

“Hey; who you choose to spend your Friday nights with is none of my business.” Charlie stated, raising his hands up in mock surrender, and I reminded myself that Charlie had raised three daughters; and that probably meant he was well used to secret boyfriends, and probably had a much more lax opinion on them from my dad.

“Thanks Charlie.” I managed a smile as I picked up a grease rag, fiddling with it like it was a token, because Charlie wasn’t gonna rat me out.

I walked into the back of the shop, where work was already well underway.

Johnny was half wedged under the jacked up mustang, working on the wheel axels or something equally laborious which I should probably be doing on Marty’s truck.

He caught sight on me, sliding out slightly from beneath the chassis to speak to me.

“So?” He asked; the word phrased more like a statement, but I had no idea what about.

“So what?” I countered, already setting up beside Marty’s truck, ready to resume business as usual.

“How was it?” He asked; his eyes stopping at the revealed parts of my skin, and I pulled the collar up on my jacket, deciding I wasn’t warm enough quite yet to go without.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” I began to use denial as a stable defence; already guessing what Johnny was getting at and deciding it was none of his business.

“Come on; don’t play dumb.” Johnny whined, still refusing to drop the subject and play detective with Charlie’s Stang, rather than my sex life.

“Johnny; I really think you should check your sources...” I continued to plead innocent, pulling out a wrench because the sooner I got under the hood of this pick up, the sooner I’d escape Johnny’s relentless questioning.

“Take off the dam jacket.” Ordered Charlie, and really he was in no position to be making any requests of me.

“Johnny; you’re being ridiculous...” I argued, popping open the truck’s hood in the vain hope he’d give up.

“It’s just a jacket; Lola...” He reasoned; though I honestly thought he was being far from reasonable.

“This is stupid...” I continued to gripe, because fuck it; when did Johnny become such a hard ass.

“Just take the damn jacket off.” He yelled, and I knew if this went on any longer; Charlie would be out here, and we both be sentenced to scrubbing used car parts for the next week.

So I gave in, pulling the jacket off my shoulders, very aware of the near gallery of love bites and bruises Billy had left painted across my skin.

Johnny let out a low admiring whistle, clearly in awe of the number Billy had managed to do with my pretty pale flesh.

“Jesus; that boy really doesn’t mess around, does he?” He commented; a wide smile across his face, because of course; beneath it all, all men could be reduced to a less than metaphorical dick measuring contest when it came to sexual conquest.

“No; he doesn’t. So if you could damn well shut up about it...” I snapped, shoving my jacket on top of the car, because fuck it; everyone had seen my hickeys now, so why the hell should I bother with hiding them.

“Hey; that’s fine with me...” Johnny conceded, finally getting back to work beneath Charlie’s Mustang, but god; did I wish his mouth’d stop working!

“S’about time you got laid. You were getting a real bitch to deal with—“

He didn’t have time to finish that sentence; me hurtling an oily rag straight into his face.

It hit its mark; the sudden look of surprise, then disgust when he realised just what had landed in his open mouth almost worth all the grilling.

I laughed; Johnny pulling the rag out and chucking it away from him with great disgust.

I turned my attention back to Marty’s truck, sticking my head beneath the hood with a smirk on my face, because maybe I was in a better mood.

What me and Billy had couldn’t possibly last, but did it really have to?

Couldn’t we just enjoy it for what it is now and worry about the consequences later?

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things fandom #stranger things2 #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove x reader

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asinclxirs-blog · 5 years

Text

[ MUSE 82 ] ●● is that TOM HOLLAND? no, that’s just ALEXANDER “ALEX” SINCLAIR, the 20 year old CISMALE who is a COLLEGE STUDENT. some say they’re ELITIST and VOLATILE, but their family and friends will swear they’re FOCUSED and LOYAL. when i think of them, i think of sleepless nights, bruised knuckles, and sad eyes. i wonder if his family knows that HE WAS RECENTLY DIAGNOSED WITH DEPRESSION. ●● ( Mar && 23 && est && she/her )

Trigger Warnings: mental health, depression, anxiety, references to self-harm and attempted suicide, panic attacks

Hi everyone I’m Mar. I was here once but I had finals going on and time was crazy so I didn’t really get to know everyone. But now I have a lot more time on my hands, and I’ve wanted to bring in Alex for awhile. Listed below are some basics about him, I also have his statistics up on my page that go a little more in depth. I’ll have his bio ready whenever I don’t feel like being lazy. Please love my sad little emotional tornando and give this post a like if you want to plot. You can also message me on my discord mar_rosex#6743 at anytime. I promise I don’t bite. I can’t wait to interact with your muses! ( Also this is so long I write wayyy to much pls bear with me x: )

Basic Intro:

Alexander, aka Alex Sinclair (Don’t call him Alexander unless you want him to throw a shit fit) is the eldest of the Sinclair siblings. During most of the year he’s away at school in Boston. But for some breaks and visits he’s living with his family in Ashcroft.

His mom left when he was only three. He actually does remember her, though a lot of it is very fuzzy. His feelings are very conflicted. He has abandonment issues just like his other siblings. But he can’t bring himself to hate her. He’s wanted to try to find her for awhile now but worries what the others will say if he does. He has this very ‘the grass is always greener’ perception about her. Like if she were still here they all would have turned out better, or maybe Alex wouldn’t have this irrational need to shut out any woman in his life that attempts to be a mother figure. He knows it’s stupid to hold out hope of ever coming in contact with her again, but that doesn’t mean he’s given up on that dream.

His relationship with his family is complicated. Mostly because they’re aware of his mental health issues, and it embarrasses him. Sometimes he’s around and other times he’ll text his dad the night before Thanksgiving dinner and say he’s gonna spend it somewhere else. He wants to be the big brother that buys them alcohol when they sneak off to parties, and beats up the bullies. He does love them though, even if he’s not good at explaining emotions. His ‘ I love yous ’ are very subtle. If they need him, he’s there without hesitation. While he struggles with explaining things to his dad, he will talk to his siblings. It’s always felt like the three of them against the world.

He isn’t aware of his father’s illegal business, but Alex doesn’t have much interest in the legal one. Business involves too much talking, too much kissing peoples asses. It’s not his kind of career. But besides this Alex still has an irrational need to please his dad. He feels like he has to do double the work since his mother isn’t there to see all his achievements. He also knows how successful the men in his family are (even if it wasn’t for legal reasons), and he wants to be better than them.

To most, Alex comes off as an outgoing guy, and kind of a dick. On the outside he’s very elitist. He will always try to be the smartest in the room, and let you know it. Alex has always had this irrational need to be the best at everything. Even if he isn’t, he’ll thinks he is. He knows the weight of his name, and has constantly used it over the years to get what he wants. But at the same time he’ll also mock others who do the same and call them trust fund brats. If he sees you as a threat, aka you’re outshining him--it’s a big issue. If he likes you though he’ll stick his neck out for you. (This mostly applies to his siblings, but they’re not safe from his competitive streak either.) His loyalty to those he cares for knows no bounds. And if you’re in some trouble he’s the first person there to help get you out of it.

Alex’s elitist streak doesn’t just end with interactions. He wants success, he craves it. Give him the smallest bit of power and he’ll run with it. Even if he’s set for life he plans to use his degree to make a name for himself. To be known as more than just another Sinclair kid. School has always come easy to Alex. He decided to attend Boston University and just finished his Sophomore year. Academics have always been something he’s enjoyed, but he can often get away with doing well and not studying. He’s studying Engineering with a minor in Chemistry. Math and Science have always been his favorite subjects. He loves knowing there’s a definite answer. Put him in an English class and he’ll either fall asleep or slowly die of boredom.

But below the surface there’s always been something more to him. He isn’t this outgoing, cocky guy that everyone thinks he is. No one talks about the fact that if there’s too many people in the room his hands will start to shake and he’ll lose the ability to complete a sentence. Or that during parties Alex always ends up outside after it feels like the room is closing in on him. Rumors hushed pretty quickly when someone though they heard Alex say that socializing feels draining. Most assume his permanent frown is due to looking down on everyone else. For some reason he always seems angry, even when no one is trying to steal his thunder. It’s always felt that way. Ever since he was a little kid and would run off only to be found by his dad hiding somewhere, a sobbing mess that couldn’t stop shaking.

Therapists used to blame his mom, so when he turned 18 he refused go anymore. They said his abandonment issues led to irrational bouts of anxiety. But it’s easy to blame her when Alex has always just been...sad. There’s never been a day where he doesn’t feel the endless need to be the best or please those he cares about. There’s days where he can’t get out of bed. Days where eating or showering seem like too much so he just lays there, wondering why the hell the universe bothered with him. He feels like the doctors never listen. That they think he’s crazy when he’s just angry.

He’s terrible with his emotions in general. In high school he was nicknamed a hot head for always snapping at others or trying to get in fights with those who threatened him. If it wasn’t for his last name, he probably would have gotten suspended for bruising his knuckles on the other boys’ faces. In college his roommate has forced him to take up boxing, where they’ll go to the gym for hours and just punch the bag. It helps, but the rage is always simmering. Instead of coming off as weepy and sensitive he uses anger to communicate. It’s often a cry for help, but he’ll never admit that. He’d rather have people think he’s a dick than crazy.

Every year it got worse, especially after he moved away to school. In high school he’d be medicated to keep things under control. But without therapy the pills stopped, and so did his control. The panic attacks became more common, to the point where people in his classes would notice the sweat on his brow or the shallow breathing. His roommate would comment on how Alex hadn’t left the dorm in two weeks, or that his phone was off for days. He wouldn’t go home for certain breaks or weekends, worried that his dad would see him and be disappointed. Or that Leo and Dylan would think he was too crazy to be around anymore.

It came to a head at the end of the current spring semester. His last psychiatrist told him that he was a volcano, and everything was going to blow if he didn’t confront his issues. It started at a party his friends were throwing. They dragged him there The typical signs were all showing. He couldn’t talk to them without downing some drinks. The room felt like it was closing in every time someone brushed against his back. Too small a space and way too many people around. Everything that he’d been pushing away suddenly rose to the surface. He doesn’t remember most of it. He just remembers running out of there, and then he’s in the dorm showers. He didn’t remember the knife he took from the kitchenette or one of his hall mates screaming for help. He always did it as a teenager when his dad was looking the other way, and it never caused too much harm. It was always a release. But this time it was.

So the school sent him home, and his professors took his current grades as finals. He has to go to a psychiatrist for the rest of the summer in order to get cleared to go back in the Fall. She refers to it as ‘the incident’, much like the other few people that are aware of it. She’s also diagnosed him with Depression. He refuses to talk about it head on with pretty much anyone, and his issues in general. Everyone else just assumes he finished the semester out early. Since he has to go, Alex just tells the psychiatrist what she wants to hear. He takes the pills she gives them but tries to flush them down the toilet when no one is looking. He hates being home. He hates being labeled as a crazy ticking time bomb. His anger hasn’t suppressed, if anything it’s gotten worse. He just wants to go back to that toddler who was laughing with his mom in the backyard and blowing bubbles. Not the mess he is now.

Wanted Connections:

Sinclair Fam: I need this. All the family, all the drama. Give it to me.

Ride or Die: His best friend since they could walk. One of the only people outside of his family that knows what the hell is going on with Alex. These two are hardly seen apart. They probably are one of the few people who can push him to try in therapy and help him get his shit together.

College Roommate: I think this would be interesting if it were someone from Ashcroft. Especially since they’re one of the few people who know about the incident and Alex’s struggles. It’d be cool if maybe this was someone who he always knew but didn’t get close with until they lived together. Also now that they’re both home and can see one another again it’d be interesting.

High School Friends: I imagine he had a small group he was close with in school. People that he still bothers to talk to after graduation. People that he grew up with and know him better than most.

College/Boston Friends: People he met while away at school. Maybe they also live in Ashcroft or recently moved there.

Enemies: Since Alex is a dick to 90% of the human population he’s well aware that he’s made enemies. There’s probably a line of them tbh.

Ex-Girlfriend: Alex isn’t a relationship guy. That requires too much of letting someone else in. I imagine this was something from highs school and he pushed her away. Maybe it was mutual. Or it could be really messy. I love everything angsty so I’m down for w/e for this.

Flings: As I said above he’s not into relationships. He’ll usually hookup or do FWB, but he’s pretty private about it. He doesn’t let the line blur between a hookup and something more. Usually if he thinks someone’s catching feelings he’ll end things.

If you had any other ideas in mind don’t hesitate to hit me up about them. I’m always down for anything, I’m a shameless plot whore.

#ashcroftintro.#mental health tw #depression tw #anxiety tw #self harm tw #panic attack tw #suicide tw

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theolddarkmachine · 6 years

Text

Four Years- Sophomore Year

Settling back into the careful composure of his well worn scowl, Keith lifts his glass in Shiro’s direction.

“I’ll stick with Shirogane, then, thanks,” he says brusquely as he raises the glass to his lips in an attempt to hide behind another swig of beer that he forgets isn’t there until he sees the flash of Shiro’s eyes as they meet his gaze through the emptied bottom of his glass.

Heat sparks in his chest, sending a flare racing up his neck and across the rise of his cheeks at the sound of Shiro’s husking laugh as, in a show of dominance, he tossed back the rest of his own drink.

“Looks like we’re ready for something stronger.”

Part 2 of 5

AO3

Warnings: None for now aside from underage drinking and ridiculous flirting, because this is a slowburn and that’s just how it goes. Will earn an E rating eventually. and by eventually i mean in the next chapter :3c

A/N: Originally I wanted to add lyrics at the start of each chapter from songs I felt encapsulated the feel for the chapter. But then I just couldn’t bring myself to add lyrics from Tupthumping and format them like poetry, but I tried to work that in another way instead. Enjoy.

********************

There were a great many thing things that Keith Kogane had learned by his second year of college. The first, is that being in a fraternity wasn’t actually that bad.

Not that he’d ever admit to Hunk that he was right.

Again.

But it had gotten him out of the hellhole known as dorm living and had even given him and Hunk a usable kitchen that didn’t carry the high risk of tetanus. It had even come with a fridge that was almost always stocked as long as Hunk promised an endless supply of his “Beta Famous Bear Claws.”

Really, everyone won in the end.

The second, is that he was disturbingly good at drinking games. So good, in fact, that he’d earned the title of The Anchor and had been the Beta’s not-so-secret weapon in every drinking competition that they found themselves in.

His only true match, was known as The Champion.

Or rather, Shiro.

Though, how the Alphas decided he should be called that was beyond him when he currently sat with one more win under his belt.

And the only reason Shiro had managed to pull his most recent win from him, was because he’d used his dimple against him.

Keith still maintains that it was an illegal play.

The third, is that fate is a dick.

A dick that had paraded itself into his life in the form of one Professor Slav. A dick that had forced them into a group essay together that totaled half of their overall semester grade.

A dick that had landed him in a slightly sticky booth across from Shiro with two drinks between them and not even the excuse of any games.

We should celebrate, Shiro had said as soon as they’d dropped their fluid mechanics essay off at Slav’s office.

Yeah, that’d be cool, Keith had said, as if the mere mention hadn’t sent his heart crashing into the roof of his mouth along with the acrid taste of bile. It’s an exaggerated reaction, he knows. One that isn’t really warranted given his otherwise calm and cool demeanor towards his classmate and frat rival.

Which brings Keith to the fourth, and final thing he’s learned. It was a revelation that he kept wrapped in all its bits of ominous cashmere, folded and tucked safely between the space of his third and fourth ribs where even he couldn’t touch it.

Because touching it was dangerous.

Acknowledging the softness that lined his insides would be sticking his hand within the garbage disposal of his emotions that would surely cut him to bits and leave him bleeding out on the floor.

Acknowledging it would mean admitting what he had known that exact moment he’d walked into that calculus class his freshman year.

That he’s completely gone for Shiro.

And not in the perfectly acceptable way that could have been rectified by a drunken night and bad decisions. In the a way that left his heart a pale imitation of Atlas holding up the weight of Shiro’s smile.

A smile that is burning a hole through his sternum as he watches the Alpha grab his beer and raise it in salute.

“To surviving Slav,” he says, sliding the words through his grin as he lowers his gaze to Keith’s pint before snapping it back up to his face. Deep within the silver there, he sees the fire of a challenge that stokes the flames within his own chest as he closes his fist around the cool glass and lifts it.

“And to being dumb enough to want to stay in aerospace engineering,” Keith replies before draining half of his beer if only for the excuse of looking away from the blinding glow of Shiro’s look.

“Who’d have thought that we would actually work well together,” Shiro hums thoughtfully as Keith resurfaces, looking him over as he wipes a lazy line along the condensation thats gathered along his own glass.

“Did we?” He asks dumbly, eyeing what’s left and calculating if he could finish it off in one more go.

The answer? Yes, yes he could.

The real question is, should he?

“I think so,” Shiro says easily, his dimple working its way further into the corner of his mouth as he watches Keith, some secret enjoyment turning his gaze bright. If Keith didn’t know better, he’d think that Shiro knows exactly what he’s thinking.

The very thought paints his cheeks red as he scoffs and rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

“That makes one of us.”

Regret hits him almost immediately as something a lot like hurt turns Shiro’s gaze downcast, pushing an awkward silence along their booth that’s painfully pointed. If he were being honest, they really had worked well together, but that isn’t really the point, is it?

No matter how well they may have worked together, it didn’t change the fact that Shiro is off limits, painted with a big fat X.

Swallowing down his apology, Keith cuts his gaze to the other bar patrons, mentally cataloguing each face that turns their way. He’ll never hear the end of it if any of the Betas catch him sharing drinks with Public Enemy No. 1.

Sighing loudly, Keith slumps further into the booth, turning his attention back to Shiro only to be met by his unwavering stare.

It’s the kind of stare that carries confidence and nonchalance, as if Shiro doesn’t care who saw them there. Though, now that Keith thinks about it, he supposes that only makes sense.

Sal’s was, for all intents and purposes, sacred ground where all rivalries were checked at the door since it was the one bar in town that didn’t look too closely at IDs. As long as no one made things difficult, they could overlook the differences in the laminated photos.

That very rule made it the kind of place where even the most vehement of enemies would be able to share a drink side-by-side.

Of course, it was also the kind of place where drunken students would input the same song in the jukebox to play for an hour straight.

At first, it had been funny. Now, it feels like an ill omen.

The song, a drinking tune made popular thanks to the 90s, kicked in once more as it listed off an obscenely long list of drinks. Keith is pretty sure that if anyone drank all of those, they’d be knocked down and definitely wouldn’t be getting back up again.

Granted, staring down the barrel of Shiro’s gunmetal eyes, he thinks he might just give it a try.

“So tell me about yourself,” Shiro’s voice is a burning ember stoked within the crashing roar of the bar patrons around them as he leans forward, gaze filled with intent as he breaks the awkward silence of their booth. It makes Keith’s heart flip a perfect 10 from the judges within his chest as he opts to throw back the last of his beer if only to buy himself a bit more time.

The smooth IPA washed down his minor panic, leaving nothing but feigned confidence in its wake as he emerged from behind the emptied glass.

“I’m not sure what else you want to know, Shirogane,” he says just as smoothly, leveling him with a careful arch of his brow as he settling back into the booth as he raised a finger with each point he made.

“I’m a Beta, I clearly like the pain of this major, and I’m the one that kicks your ass every weekend in beer pong. What more do you want to know?”

Deep lines crinkle the edges of Shiro’s almond eyes as he pulls his forearm up to rest his chin on his open palm. It makes him look younger, almost wistful.

“Shiro,” he answers, tucking his grin behind a careful sip of his beer.

“What?” Keith’s voice is a flatline as loses his train of thought to the slow drag of Shiro’s tongue along the slick liquid that coated his top lip.

“My friends call me Shiro,” the Alpha bites out, turning his smile predatory as his eyes glow with the dumbly breathless nature of Keith’s voice. Friends, was not the right word at all.

Friends, held a connotation that he never wanted a part in.

Friends, was something he wouldn’t have even wanted to be even if they hadn’t landed themselves in rival fraternities that pitted them against each other every weekend.

What Keith wanted, was something a lot stronger. He wants late nights, secret smiles and names gasped into the darkness of night.

What he wants, are early mornings, soft sunlight with softer kisses and his eggs over easy.

That, however, is a secret that he would take with him right to his grave, because Keith was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a traitor. No matter how enticing Shiro’s crescent smile and starlit eyes are.

Settling back into the careful composure of his well worn scowl, Keith lifts his glass in Shiro’s direction.

“Looks like we’re ready for something stronger.”

The words, accompanied with a wink, carry Shiro away as Keith opened his mouth around a silent protest just seconds too late. A dryness fills his throat as he watches his classmate push through the crowd, ignoring the lingering eyes as he passes until he reached the bar.

From here, Keith gets a front row seat to the snug fit of his jeans, and the way his navy henley pulls across his shoulders, the fabric set just this side of too tight in a way that would make him go weak in the knees if he was standing.

Good thing he wasn’t.

Even from behind, Keith can see the confidence that holds Shiro’s head high as he starts to speak with the bartender. He can imagine the easy smile that would work itself high in the full of his lips, drawing his cupid bow taut and deepening that damned dimple. Something dark curled itself low in his gut as he watched the bartender toss back his head with a laugh, the sound of it snatched away by the sound of Chumbawumba calling out for one Danny Boy. Light flashes off his glasses as he returns his gaze to Shiro, his own mouth split wide as he reaches beneath the bar.

Keith shaking his head as he watches, shaking the blackened thoughts from his head as he turns away, biting down on his lip until he tastes the sharp tang of blood. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the tart taste on the back of his tongue was jealousy.

Good thing he did.

A tray of shots materializes in front of him, their contents sloshing over their sides as they’re dropped unceremoniously with a clatter on the table before him, causing him to jump as Shiro pushes himself back into his side of the booth.

“Are you up for a game?” Shiro asks, the silver of his eyes muted with a dark challenge as he licks across a sharpened canine. It’s a feral move that cracks that pesky space between Keith’s ribs wide with the brambles of sticky, sharp desire. It buries itself deep into his bones, forcing the gaps further and further apart until he isn’t sure he’d be able to keep breathing.

Crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to hold it together, Keith tilts his chin high in defiance.

“I’m always up for kicking your ass, Shirogane,” he growls, pushing the words through his gritted teeth. A storm cloud rumbles across Shiro’s face as a hungry shadow turned it hard in a fleeting moment that makes Keith’s heart race.

The air thickens between them, catching with the same static that fills the air before a tempest as they hold each others gazes over the tray of sharp smelling alcohol.

It would be something of a perfect moment if only Keith could hear something other than that damned song starting over yet again.

“What’re the rules?” He breathes, shattering the moment as Shiro shakes his head briefly, his gaze returning to their teasing shine as he reaches for the glasses between them.

“Simple,” he says with a shrug as he divvies up the shots until there are an equal amount on either side of the table. Six a piece.

Keith’s stomach turns.

“I ask a question, if you don’t want to answer, you drink. You ask a question, if I don’t want to answer, I drink.”

It’s said easily, as if it the statement isn’t filled with all the makings of a trap. Shiro was handing Keith the opportunity to make this last as long— or as short— as possible. All he needs to do, is leave all his questions unanswered.

Six shots weren’t that many in the grand scheme of things, after all.

Keith’s certain he’s done more than that before.

Granted, that night had ended in a promise that he’d never drink again.

But hey. He never said he was perfect.

“Easy enough,” he agrees against the better judgement that screamed at him in the form of a strangely Hunk shaped angel on his shoulder. Smiling all teeth, he grabs one of the shot glasses and gathers it between his palms.

He takes a vodka drink, indeed.

“I’m glad we can agree.” A small shiver dances it way down the grooves of his spine as he watched Shiro’s hand fold around his own. “And in a show of good faith, I’ll let you go first.”

Violet catches steel as they eye each other. Lightning gathers along Keith’s skin as he hums lowly in faux thought as he thumbs the lip of his shot glass.

“Why aerospace engineering?” He asks finally, reveling in the way Shiro’s eyes widen at the tameness of the question. It’s a throwaway question meant to test the waters of Shiro’s intent, and Keith is sure he’s found it in the moments of silence that pass before he pulls himself back together to offer a low chuckle as he let’s his head hang with it.

“Would you believe me if I said I just love space?” Shiro asks, open and honest before him, coloring his tone a shimmery shade with a hidden plea to leave it at that. It flushes his system with curiosity as he let’s his eyes openly roam over the Alpha as if he could pull the truth from within his mind before shrugging noncommittally.

“Don’t see why I wouldn’t.” And though he tries to play it off coolly, Keith realizes that he means it. Through the weekly competitions and their short time as essay partners, Shiro had never given him any reason to question his sincerity. It was most of the reason why his heart always seemed to batter itself against the inside of his chest whenever he was near.

Shiro’s fingers rolled the shot glass back and forth within his grasp before he spoke.

“What about you?”

Keith’s reaction is instinctual as his hand twitches around the slick glass. He knows that he should throw it down for the sake of being one shot down and a bit closer to freedom. That would be the smart thing to do.

But there’s a heat pooling in his stomach and licking the inside of his veins and he wants. He wants so badly, that he’s sure he’s going to burn with it.

More importantly, he’s sure he’d enjoy it.

“I want to be free.” The words leave his lips before he can pick them apart. They carry a weight that hangs between them as Shiro nods in understanding that stokes the flames charring his insides.

“There’s something about the idea of making it up there that sounds like the best kind of escape.”

Pausing, he drags his gaze up from the clear liquid in his glass, filling his smile with wickedness as he winks.

“And I just love space.” It earns him a bright laugh that dances over him as Shiro raises his shot toward him.

“Touché.”

“Why’d you choose the Alphas?” Keith throws out quickly once his laughter has died down, pulling his brow up in question as Shiro swallows down his shot without pause. There’s a sharp click of glass against wood as he drops it on the corner of their table with a hiss.

“Well color me intrigued,” he says with a laugh as Shiro grabs his next victim, shrugging a shoulder as he keeps his eyes down.

“I’d tell you if we were friends but apparently we aren’t.” His smile goes sharp, filled with the same bite as a wolf. It only grows more pointed as his voice dips into nonchalance.

“Which, why don’t you want to be?”

Air seizes in Keith’s throat as panic stings his edges, leaving him buzzing as he tries to swallow it down. Suddenly, the shot warming against his palm feels like bullet as he realizes taking it would only prove he had something to hide.

Though, from the way Shiro’s grin widens, he’s sure he already knows.

“You’re an Alpha,” he tries, ignoring the way his voice sounds strangled even to his own ears. Keith doesn’t even want to imagine what it sounds like to Shiro’s.

Like the confession he was hoping to avoid, maybe?

The very thought fills his throat with the bitter sting of bile.

Tsking softly, Shiro raises a finger at him and wags it slowly as he falls into mock disapproval, shaking his head in time with each hardened sound.

“That, sounds like a lie, and a lie is two shots,” he says mercilessly as he uses that same shaming finger to push another one of Keith’s shots toward him. It stares up at him, it’s clear stare reveling that of Shiro’s silver as he cuts his glance between the two before he sighs.

At the very least, Shiro is letting it go, and he’ll play by the rules if it meant being able to hide the truth beneath the acrid taste of vodka.

The first shot burns the entire way down.

“Making up rules as we go, are you?” Keith hums, not putting much force behind it as he grabs the second.

It chases the first’s flames with a kamikaze crash.

“Guess you’ll never know.” Shiro’s laugh is kindling to the fire that the vodka has already set, and Keith can feel it snapping and popping as it grows at his core. Mixed with the pleasant buzz of his first beer, there’s a happy kind of tingle that’s making his fingertips feels like lightning clouds as he palms his third shot. It bubbles up within him until he finds himself laughing as well.

He can feel the weight of Shiro’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t care, because in that moment he can pretend that maybe this is something more than two classmates celebrating the end of a partnership neither of them had even asked for.

“Who’s the guy you’re always with?” The next question comes after his laughter has dried up, and it causes him pause as he tilts his head, pulling his brows together in question.

There’s only one person that Shiro could mean, and that’s—

“Hunk?” He asks, though he supposes Shiro wouldn’t actually know. That would make the question moot, though he figures it should be anyway.

Shiro doesn’t have much of a reason to care who his friends are.

“He’s my best friend.”

Silver cuts into him, carving deep grooves into his skin as if he was trying to decide if Keith’s answer is a lie. It tickles his insides and turns his cheeks a light pink as the alcohol makes him warm beneath the stare. Suddenly, Keith wonders if maybe he does have a reason, because something about that look feels exciting.

Feels like maybe Shiro understands the way his fingers are screaming out to touch.

The corner of his mouth twitches up around a smirk as he leans forward on his forearms.

“Why, are you jealous?” He breathes. Shiro holds his gaze as he snatches up his next shot, throwing it back and baring his throat before dropping it in his shot glass graveyard.

A thrill runs through Keith that makes the edges of his vision light as he mirrors his stance and pushes himself forward against the table.

“Do you want me to be?” Shiro returns, barely hiding his smile as Keith opens his throat around another mouthful of vodka. It’s accompanied by the sound of his triumphant laughter mixed with the sweet, dulcet sounds of Tubthumping.

“Why do you want to be my friend so badly?” Keith volleys before the glass hits the wood, not even bothering to drop it by the empties.

The game had gotten interesting, and there was no point in pretense anymore.

Shining steel flicks downward as Shiro considers his words, mulling them over between the teeth he’s running over his bottom lip. And then he’s looking up and painting Keith’s vision a metallic shade as all else falls away. It leaves him feeling light, as if he’s about to float away, and now he remembers why he promised to never do shots again.

“I tried to tell you last year, you’re my type.”

He says it like a summer breeze. As if it were easy. As if it was right. As if it doesn’t set Keith ablaze and fill his lungs with smoke as he shakes his head.

“Lie, take two,” he manages as he tries to smoothly push one of Shiro’s shots toward him. Vodka spills over the side and slicks the table beneath it as he ignores it, instead smearing it along the table top as he pushes the glass further. Everything goes loud around them as Keith finds himself sinking beneath Shiro’s starlight gaze as he searches for something that only he could know.

“My turn,” Shiro’s voice is pitched low as he drops his stare to Keith’s mouth. In a brief moment of clarity, he notices the way it’s gone almost black.

“Kiss me?”

Everything stops and speeds up all at once as Keith finds himself floundering, crushed beneath the question. He should pull away.

He should laugh it off and take his shot.

He should bite back the gasp that has parted his lips.

But this is a game of what he should do, and what he does, and what Keith does, is none of the above.

Instead, he finds himself moving forward, his body propelled by the heat of Absolut and desire until he feels the unyielding pressure of Shiro’s mouth against his. It gathers the glowing heat of a star in his ribcage as they move against each other. Licking into his mouth, Keith steals the moan from Shiro’s tongue as he curls his fingers into the fabric of his shirt to hold him steady.

The new star incinerates his bone and his skin before building him back up and he’s certain he can see new universes glowing against the backs of his eyelids.

It’s too little and all to much as the room starts to burn around him, leaving a single point of clarity in the form of a heated palm against his nape.

That very palm, is the last thing Keith remembers as everything falls away into darkness, leaving nothing but the echo of that god forsaken song in its wake.

You’re never gonna keep me down.

***

Pain slices through Keith’s temple as he’s awakened by the sudden violence of his alarm going off. Eyes flying open as he pushes his way up from his bed, he grabs for the trash just to the side of his bed, managing to get it into his lap before his stomach empties its contents into the bottom of its cheap plastic.

This was it, the big one. The one where he promises to never drink again, and actually means it.

Why was he even taking shots to begin with?

Moments pass as his mind races to catch up with with his pulse that’s racing in his ears before it crashes down around him. Snippets of memory play before his eyes in dark fragments, set to a soundtrack of Chumbawumba.

There had been a strong arm wrapped around his waist that helped him stumble from the bar.

A deep laugh at some bad joke Keith had told.

A steady hand that had pressed into his chest and pushed him into his bed before pulling the covers up to his chin.

There had been the soft brush of lips against his cheek.

Keith’s breath quickens as he presses his fingertips to the crest of his cheek as if to chase the phantom sensation that burns there. Shiro had brought him home.

Shiro had tucked him into bed.

Blanching at the thought, Keith threw his legs over the edge of his bed, ignoring the tug of his blankets as they fall to the floor.

Something bright catches his vision as his eyes are pulled toward a glass on his nightstand. And beside it, two white capsules and a note.

With one hand clutching the trash can to his chest, Keith reaches for the pills, letting his fingers drag over the top of squared letters that sit beneath them. Each blue ink mark is another scar against his ribs as he reads the words.

Take this, and learn how to hold your liquor :)

He’s definitely never drinking again.

Groaning loudly, and wincing at the flare of pain it causes in his temple, Keith tosses the pills into his mouth, ignoring the water as he swallows them down dry to chase after his heart that was still rapidly beating in his throat.

********************

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #voltron #the frat au #may this be a good end or beginning to your week #depending on how you like to read your calendar XD #my apologies in advance for the ridiculous flirting #it seemed like a good idea at the time

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trustlup · 7 years

Note

do you have any other polyblaster hcs?? that concept is?? so incredibly blessed

it’s actually a Huge thing for me and @starsshinedarkly77 (we’re both poly and project ya) and i’ll throw them under a cut because it’s Long and i know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea and mentions some NSFW

so uh first a lot of how it all starts

like? ? it’s relatively kinda easy how a lot of the relationships form like it’s just a need for sex or any sort of intimacy esp during this horrific experience they all need comfort and yeah there’s crushes getting thrown around too but for the beginning and i’m saying mostly around mags and lu it’s just a need for release and relaxing

lup and mags are actually the first two who get together just, like purely out of they’re dicking around joking and like damn i’m so fucking horny lol and they just kinda look at each other like oh. oh hell yeah. and needless to say they go down on each other in the gym

like i’m not sure if romantic feelings ever get thrown between the two (or if mags ever feels too romantically for any of ipre) but they both have such an intense and pure love for each other that just happens so quick that everyone’s like, oh, sweet, thanks for getting the bond engine this week

granted they’re also hell kids because they fuck too much (hi this is my monthly promo for hypersexual lup and mags thanks) and if they’re both missing and someone in ipre has to find them there’s a kinda nose goes because they have no shame

a lot of the relationships form from simply. someone wants to be held and sometimes it’s nice to be held by the same person multiple times.

and i think that’s why barry starts going to mags–just hesitant because he’s not exactly sure how him and lup are but like, he just fucking needs contact and mags is like lol dude lets hug it out and they just start cuddling and then lup needs in because she wants to cuddle him too and that’s how barry ends up in between them and it’s just.. so nice (they also have sex because uh needs)

the crush between barry and lup is,, glaringly obvious and mags i s like,, uh ya gonna go for it or what and they’re both uh yeah of course but they don’t

taako like, is chill for a good amount of time, he really does not wanna fucking touch that group because that’s so much drama just waiting to happen (hint: it isn’t)

until, he gets, touch starved to hell and wants to be wanted so fucking bad and surprise surprise mags is like yo you are so fucking hot and taako just preens under his praise like fine, i guess I’ll be With you

i mean i could write an entire 5000 word essay on lupcret about how they get together but it is a huge mutual crush until they get together and they’re just,, love,, they’re definitely the first romantic relationship on the ship

sweet young lucretia has a compulsive heterosexuality crush on mags because uh?? everyone is attracted to him?? so i am too?? he is objectively hot?? and she tries to have a threesome with him and lup and she’s like nope nope i ‘m a lesbian thank s

but her and lup just have a very very sweet and dependable love after trying to isolate herself from lup and lup is like, no i love you, i want to be with you, and lucretia just cries she’s so happy and forehead touching is a HUGE thing of theirs just a thing of i will hold you through everything, you are my love, don’t worry just look at me

merle and dav have nearly the longest slowburn that everyone else on the ship snicker like just fuck like the rest of us

it’s actually…surprisingly sweet and they go through the whole dating shebang and they’re kinda quiet about their relationship until one day davenport proposes and merle fucking loses it and tells everyone about HIS HUSBAND ISN”T HE BEAUTIFUL and dav is like it was nice trying to keep it quiet

ok now into more just hc:

cuddle piles and somehow all of them manage to fit onto one couch like lup and taako will just be sitting there already folded into each other and magnus will come up and lift them just a bit so that they can be on his lap and then barry sits behind magnus somehow and lucretia is behind lup and if merle behaves he can also be on there but davenport only rarely joins the couch because it gets hot as hell and he doesn’t want the sweat

a fight breaks out about who is better taako or lup in bed and magnus and barry are put on trial and it’s a full cycle fight until they split up what they are better at and it’s a complete cop out and taako and lup are pissed at them (luc is toted around on lup’s lap as the only beloved)

there’s a constant fear of entering the kitchen because whatever twin that is working in the kitchen will often require a kiss for access to the which,, dissolves to make outs or more,

there isn’t a single clean and pure surface by cycle 10

there’s a lot of uncomfortable fisting jokes because no one knows if it’s true or not who has . been . fisted. (hint: only one of them)

the bonds between them get very very strong after a while because after so much trauma they just need each other, they’ve seen each other die and they love each other so much it just hurts so much to see each other hurting

magnus loves sitting on lup’s lap

magnus ends up having a huge fling one cycle with a local girl and it ends in him getting betrayed because he was just a big meat bag and she needed him to kill someone (and uses blood magic to make him) and it’s . bad. but thankfully in the next cycle he has the support of them and it’s a huge character growth thing for him

people bake favors for the twins so. much. to try and gain favor and just to do something nice. mags and lucretia often team up to make something nice for lup.

and vice versa the twins are known for gifting pies as apologies

mags has a huge habit of telling everyone that they’re the most beautiful people he’s ever met and that he loves them dearly and he wants them to know how much he treasures them and it’s so fucking earnest and beautiful that they all make a pact to love him deeply

no one sleeps alone after a certain point, the trauma of everything just gets to them and they need the comfort, some nights involve the main five all together

someone ask me about the time mags and lup find barry’s dildo

there’s a lot of kissing, platonic and otherwise, it just becomes so normal to kiss each other on the foreheads and lucretia is notorious for kissing on the shoulder, just a quick peck

h o l d i n g h a n d s

magnus has a habit of holding someone’s hand and bring their hand up to his mouth to kiss it

magnus has bandanas that each one of them wear as almost “tokens” of “courting” him

lup wears her in a ponytail or around her head, taako does the same plus around his thigh or ankle, barry wears his around his neck arm or forehead, it takes a bit of coercing but eventually lucretia takes one despite being a “only friends lover” and wears it on her ankle

barry is the best at dancing and it drives all of them crazy

there’s a lot of bets and competitions that go around and i couldn’t name them all but the one me and ssd were talking about recently was who can get mags off the quickest so Yeah

i uh, could go on but yeah you get the idea, i really like the polyblaster, basically they’re all very intimate and close to each other regardless of romantic or not

#paz.replies #oofa doofa #this is a lot #nsfw/#obv this contains a lot of non canon ships so if that's not your thing #don't read #they just all love each other and are intimate with each other #Anonymous

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come-join-themurder · 7 years

Photo

“Birthday Sex”

Tig Trager x Reader (GIF isn’t mine)

SMUT!!!!

This is for you doll @mjcumberbatch Happy (early) Birthday!

______________________________

[Your Perspective]

“Your birthday is coming up…” he trailed off as he held the phone to his ear.

“Yes it is,” you smiled in response, “but you know I’m not big about birthdays Filip.” You could tell by how awkwardly he brought up the subject that he had something in mind. You were hoping he’d come back to Easterhouse to visit the family, but you knew that was a long shot. Filip hadn’t been back since he left as a teen. You were the only family he was even close to anymore. The rest had labeled him a black sheep and moved on with their lives without him.

“So why don’t ye come out here an’ spend your birthday in California?”

You saw that request coming from a mile away, “I don’t know Filip I–” “–Lass you haven’t visited in years. Me an’ the guys, we all miss you… Tig too,” he added, causing you to blush. There was a teasing tone in his voice that antagonized you. Chibs knew you had a small crush on his outlaw brother, but he also knew, unbeknownst to you, that Tig had grown fond of you the last time you visited on your birthday four years ago.

“Alright, fine,” you spoke finally, feigning annoyance, “I’ll come. I’ll text you my flight details when I know them.” “I’ll be waiting at the airport for you when you land, lass,” Chibs smiled and hung up the phone, pushing away from the desk in the office at TM and walking out into the garage where Tig, Bobby, Opie, Clay and Jax were all working on bikes and cars for customers. “Just got off the phone with (Y/N)…” Chibs paused as he saw everyone’s attention turn to him, but none’s head whipped around quicker at the mention of your name than Tig Trager. Chibs grinned, “…She’ll be joinin’ us in Charming for her birthday next week.” “That’s really good, brother,” Clay smiled, patting the Scotsman on the back, “It’ll do you good to have your family around for a little while.” “Yeah…” he smiled back, looking across the garage at Tig whose mouth was agape as he stared off into space. Chibs didn’t know what it was about his younger cousin that made Tig so nervous, but it was entertaining to watch.

~+~

[Tig’s Perspective]

“Where’s Chibby going?” Tig asked Bobby as the two watched Chibs clock out from the garage. “(Y/N)’s plane lands in 2 hours, he’s getting the van and taking it up to the airport pick her up,” Bobby replied. He, too, knew about Tig’s schoolboy infatuation with Chibs’ younger family member. “Well, uh, you think he needs help?” “Wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Bobby nudged Tig who took off in a slow jog over to his brother. “H-hey man where’ya goin?” Tig questioned as he caught up to Chibs. “Airport,” was Chibs’ one syllable response as he kept walking. “Oh ok…” Tig trailed off and stopped walking, leaving Chibs to head towards the van alone. “You can come too if you want,” Chibs called over his shoulder to Tig who perked up and continued following Chibs to the van, “Thanks man,” Tig smiled as they headed out to Oakland to pick up (Y/N).

~+~ [Your Perspective]

You picked up your luggage and headed out to the pickup/drop off area, having already called Filip from the plane to let him know you had landed before you deboarded, you knew he was out in the pick up lane waiting for you. What you didn’t expect was that Alexander Trager was also waiting for you.

Shit, you thought, I’ve just flown thousands of miles and I look terrible.

This wasn’t how you wanted to be dressed when you met Tig again. You silently cursed Chibs for bringing him along as you plastered a smile on your face and walked up to your cousin, giving him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek followed by a hug from Tig. He smelled like grease, whiskey, cologne and leather all mingled together and it was perfect. You held onto him a little longer than you normally would with a guy you’d only met twice before, but he didn’t seem to notice as you pulled away and took a deep breath, “So where to now?”

“Figured you’d want to rest and wash up, so I was thinking of heading to the hotel,” Chibs answered and you nodded, “Sounds perfect!”

The hotel was small, but nice, and as you pulled up, Tig leaned up between the two front seats from the back, “So your birthday is tomorrow, right?” he asked, smiling charmingly at you. “Yeah I am getting quite old,” you replied, flashing a smile back. “At least you’re not my age,” Chibs joked, and you scoffed in response, “I’m not THAT much younger than you, Filip!” “Aye, it makes a difference,” he assured you as he put the van in park and the two of your got out of the van and walked to the back where Tig was, pulling your things out already. “D’you need help up?” Tig asked, one of your bags was in his hand but you took it from him gently, “I think I can handle it, but thanks,” you winked and gave Filip another kiss on the cheek, thanking the two of them for picking you up before walking towards the building to check in. “By the way,” Chibs yelled to you, “Gemma’s cooking tonight we’re all going to her place for dinner. I’ll pick ya up at seven!”

You gave him a thumbs up before disappearing out of sight.

Dinner was amazing. Gemma was a great cook, Chibs’ biker brothers were hilarious and you enjoyed hearing their conversations and all the competing they do with one another. From little things like who can change out brake pads the fastest to bigger things like who gets the hottest girlfriends, these guys competed on every level. Luckily, you were sat between Filip and Tig, your two favorite guys, and they were doing a great job of keeping you entertained.

~+~ [Tig’s Perspective]

“I’m telling ya,” Tig began as he stretched his arm out and across the top of your seatback, looking down the table at the rest of his friends, “The only reason I haven’t settled down is because I haven’t found the right one yet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t mop the ground with all you guys when it comes to who pulls the hottest broads. Seriously.” A chorus of laughter erupted from the table, “Yeah like too tall tammy,” Juice giggled and Tig groaned, “C’mon! That was my first time trying peyote I thought she was regular sized,” Tig defended. “What was your excuse for bedding manly Monica then?” Clay asked seriously, to which the table giggled and laughed some more. “You know what, fuck you guys.” Tig growled and stood up from the table, throwing his napkin on his plate and heading out to the back patio. “Aww c’mon Tiggy we’re just havin’ a bit of fun!” Chibs called after him as he bit into a dinner roll, but Tig didn’t turn around. Chibs knew the teasing wasn’t what bothered Tig, it was making a mockery of him in front of (Y/N) that had actually pissed him off.

~+~

[Your Perspective]

After several minutes had passed, and the conversation had moved on to other competitions, you decided to check on the dark-haired biker. It seemed nobody else was going to. You stepped outside and the cool night air nipped at you as you folded your arms across your chest and approached him. “You alright?” You asked, startling him from what seemed like deep thought, “Wha–Oh. Yeah… I’m good, doll,” he faked a smile and took a drag of his already-lit cigarette. You knew he was lying but you could tell he wasn’t the type to open up when pushed so you let it be. “I’m getting kind of tired,” you sighed, “Jetlagged maybe, or I’m still on Scotland time,” you laughed and he chuckled politely, “Do you think you could give me a lift home?” Tig hesitated to answer and you suddenly felt embarrassed for asking, “I’m sorry. It’s not your job to be my chauffeur I know that I’ll just ask–” “–I’d love to, darlin’,” he smiled. The smile looked genuine this time, but it was covering something else, frustration, determination, you weren’t sure. Ashing out his cigarette in the flowerbed below and taking your hand, much to your surprise, he lead you around the front to his bike.

As he pulled up outside, you took off the helmet he gave you and handed it to him. He put it on his own head and buckled it, resting his hand on his handlebars once he was done and looking at you. You were extremely nervous. As much as you wanted to invite him up, you also didn’t want him to think of you as loose. You had no idea how to play it, but you weren’t going to be in Charming forever and this guy was the object of all of your fantasies since you first met him when you were a teenager.

“Did you want to come up for a drink?” you asked, hoping he took the hint and accepted.

~+~

[Tig’s Perspective] Does she really mean a drink, Tig thought to himself when you asked him the question, or does she mean… He didn’t know if your invite had a veiled meaning, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself so he decided he’d play it cool and take the offer at face value: You asked if he wanted a drink. “I’ve got some things I gotta do tonight, doll,” he answered, “Can I take a rain check?” he asked instead. At least this way he didn’t seem uninterested completely, but it kept him from seeming like a dick if you were honestly just inviting him for a night cap. “S-sure…” you trailed off, “If you change your mind i’m in 221,” you smiled, “Thanks for the ride!” “Anytime.” Tig winked and revved his engine, as you took a couple steps back and he shifted it into gear.

~+~

[Your Perspective]

You watched as he roared away before retiring to your room for the night and shooting Chibs a message to let him know you were back at the hotel safely. It was barely 10 o’clock when you made it up to your room so you settled for a shower and some light reading while you began to wind down. Eventually you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to a knock on your hotel door, and looked over to see if anyone had called you but nobody had. It was also just after midnight, so you were sure that someone had knocked on your door by accident but you decided to check it out anyway. You crept to the peep hole and looked out, surprised to see a familiar face. You opened the door to find Tig standing there leaning against the door frame. He looked conflicted, stressed, so you didn’t mention the time, you just stood there silently for a moment until he locked eyes with you and spoke, “I’ll have that drink now,” he spoke seriously as he waited to be let inside. “Fuck the drink,” you huffed stepping to him in the threshold and grabbing him by the collar, kissing him harshly as he began to kiss you back.

Tig walked you back into your hotel room and shut the door behind him, turning you around, pressing you against the back of the door and bracing himself with his palms flat against the door frame. Your hands were still affixed to his collar when he pulled away from your lips and moved down to your neck, tasting as much of your skin as he could and moving his hands down to hold your hips. All of his movements were rushed, hurried, and as if he was afraid you would stop him at any moment and make him leave. “Tig,” you breathed, causing him to snap his head up to look at you, “Come here,” you took his hand, leading him to your bed as his face immediately washed over with relief. You sat on the bed and he took his kutte off, setting it down and sitting beside you, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced across your skin. He began to unbuckle his belt and your hands went to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it and sliding it off as he finished with his belt and fly and took off his jeans and boots. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your bare chest underneath before he kissed you again. You stood from your position beside him on the bed and slid off your bottoms, and as the fabric of your panties hit the floor, you moved to stand in front of him. ~+~

[Tig’s Perspective]

Tig looked up at you with fire in his eyes. He had never looked at anyone the way he looked at you as he leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking on the sensitive skin. His arms wrapped around you, running his fingers up your back and pulling you into his lap as he leaned back onto the bed, hauling you down and grinding his hips up against your center as he stroked your back, holding you tightly.

With a quick jerk of his body he was on top of you, his boxers were tight over his erection which was pressed against your pelvis as he attacked your lips again, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, gripping the sheets on either side of your head in his fists. You trailed your hands down his chest to his bulge and he groaned into your mouth as you stroked him up and down.

“Take these off,” you half-asked, half-commanded to which he obliged, lifting himself up and pulling them down to kick them off.

“I’ve wanted this for so long (Y/N),” he breathed into your ear as he rubbed himself against your center and trailed a hand down your torso to stroke your wet, hot, core.

“Mmm… Me too, Tig,” you moaned. “Fuck, doll!” he growled, muffled, against your neck, “I want you so bad.”

“Take me,” was your last response before he palmed his cock and slid inside you, a gasp resonating from each of your throats.

~+~

[Your Perspective]

Tig entered you and it was like everything in your life that you ever wanted or needed had moved back a row. You knew immediately that you were meant to be together, he was the missing piece to your jigsaw puzzle. When he began thrusting, the moment of epiphany faded and you snapped back to reality, the reality being that he felt amazing inside you. He was hitting all the right spots in a way that only a man with his experience could. You wrapped your arms around him, holding tightly to his back and tossing your head back. As he thrusted into you, you rolled your hips in sync with his motions, causing him to lean forward and bite down on your shoulder to suppress a moan. When you dug your nails into his shoulder blades, he growled, moving his hands up to the headboard and gripping it for leverage. The new position made him able to pound into you harder, and he used it to his advantage, making you moan loudly, scratching his back deeper. “That’s it baby,” he coaxed you, “Tell me how much you like this dick.” “Mmm, Tig!” “Ohh yeah, (Y/N), I love it when you moan my name, doll,” he groaned as he pounded into you harder. You could feel your orgasm approaching as he fucked you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m about to cum,” you gasped, your hands shooting from his back to the sheets, gripping them until your knuckles turned white. “Cum for me baby, come on, cum for me,” he begged you, his breathing was labored and told you that his climax was close as well. You wrapped your fingers around the back of his head, gripping his curly dark hair tightly and wrenching his face down to yours as you kissed him roughly. The two of you came together, your lips barely touching as you stared into each other’s eyes.

You woke up to the tone of your phone ringing and realized you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms. You smiled, remembering the events of the night before and ignoring the phone to roll over and face the man in your bed. His eyes were still closed, breathing deeply, as you placed a soft kiss against his lips, followed by a deeper, longer one. He shifted a bit and started kissing you back, squeezing you tightly against him and smiling against your lips before he pulled back and opened his eyes.

“G’mornin,” you whispered matching his smile with your own. “Happy Birthday, doll. I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me when you woke up,” Tig responded, throwing you off a bit. You didn’t know what to say and he knew it, so he spoke again, “I just haven’t woke up too many mornings to see a woman close to as beautiful as you, and when I did, they weren’t very happy to see me.” “Is that what last night was about?” You asked, suddenly understanding, “You’re afraid of rejection?” You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked down at him as he looked back at you. He didn’t answer you, he didn’t have to, you knew that’s what it was. You smiled, “Big bad Tigger was afraid little (Y/N) was going to turn him down, even though she has had feelings for him since the first time she met him. That’s what you’re telling me?” Tig’s eyes lit up upon hearing your confession, his nose crinkled as he smiled and pulled you to lay across his chest, “You really have feelings for me?” “Of course, Alex. Do you think I would come all the way out here just to visit Filip?” You rolled your eyes, “Big bad Tigger, more like Big DUMB Tigger,” you joked, tracing patterns along his sternum as he ran his hands up and down your arms and shoulders. “So what now? You gotta leave to go home in a couple days and it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

You were interrupted by the ringing of your phone again and you huffed, rolling off of your blue-eyed bedmate to answer it.

~+~

[Tig’s Perspective]

Tig stared at you, taking in the curves of your cheeks, the slope of your nose… he knew he was in trouble when it came to you. He had never felt this way before. He was so lost in his observations of you that he didn’t notice you end the phone call and turn to look at him, “That was Filip,” you told him, “He wanted to know what my plans were for the day…” you trailed off, looking at Tig.

“Well…” he stood up, the sheets falling off of his naked frame as he lifted his kutte and dug in a pocket, concealing something in his fist and sitting back on the bed, “If I give you your present, will you think about including me in your plan?” Tig smiled triumphantly, sitting up and leaning towards you to kiss your bare shoulder as he opened his hand and a beautiful silver necklace fell to hang from his fingers. Your mouth hung open, “Tig! It’s beautiful. When did you–” “I bought it when Chibs told me you were coming for your birthday, I was just scared to give it to you…” ~+~

[Your Perspective] You kissed him sweetly, “Well I love it,” you said as your pulled away and put it on. Tig traced the chain with his forefinger, studying it against your skin, “So what about those plans?” he asked.

“You want me to tell my cousin that I have plans with you? He will know we slept together.” “I know,” Tig grinned again, “I want him to know,” he kissed your collarbone, “I want everyone to know,” he moved to your neck. “You mean…?” You didn’t get to finish your question because he had already answered, “Yes.” “But what about–” “We can figure anything else out later, doll. I want you to be my girl. And I want to make sure my girl has a good birthday.” You laughed as he pulled you to him and kissed you, leaning into you and turning you so you were on your back. You tangled your fingers in his curls as he assaulted your neck murmuring against your skin, “Now relax and get ready for your present,” he growled and you chuckled. “But Tig you already gave me a present… I need to call Filip back and tell him I have plans…” You protested to no avail as he continued to trail kisses down your torso towards your pelvis.

Happy Birthday To You.

#tig trager #tig #tig imagine #tig smut #tig trager imagine #tig trager smut #alexander trager #alex trager #soa #soa imagine #soa smut #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy smut #happy birthday imagine #chibs telford

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the-emophoenix-hoard · 7 years

Note

all of the asks? I'm a dick :3

Omg okie

lol I’m assuming you’re the same anon that asked me for all the questions those other times

Im gonna put it under the cut

The meaning behind my url: lol idek, one of my old college frens was hobovampire and I wanted to do something along those lines idk

A picture of me: It won’t let me add one but here http://the-emophoenix.tumblr.com/post/161402700146/i-was-tagged-by-spookyowlfren-idek-i-had-to

How many tattoos I have and what they are: I don’t have any yet

Last time I cried and why: Death of my favourite character in Lost

Piercings I have: Technically two ear piercings but they’ve closed up, I’m planning on getting them redone over the next few weeks

Favourite band: TOP, Linkin Park and Fall Out Boy

Biggest turn offs: idrk I’m ace asf but being a dick make me wanna be as far away from someone as possible

Top 5 (insert subject): you gonna need to give me a subject bruh

Tattoos I want: I want an Undertale heart, the TOP skeleton keys and a watercolour owl

Biggest turn ons: again idrk, but just be nice to everyone and you’ll see people wanna spend more time with you

Age: 19

Ideas of a perfect date: idk bruh

Life goal: Just be happy and safe, and I wanna complete my comic too I need to actually start tho

Piercings I want: I wanna get gauges in both ears and maybe a cartilage piercing too

Relationship status: Single as a pringle my dude

Favourite movie: My inner nerd will always love Transformers and Avatar but Kingsman and p much any Ghibli are my faves

A fact about my life: ummmmm idk lol

Phobia: Falling lol, I’m okie with heights but I panic when I feel like I’m falling, like in planes when they cut the engines for a moment or big rollercoasters, I can’t stand those mental fairground rides

Middle name: Bruh I have 3

Height: around 5′6 I think

Are you a virgin?: Yeeeee boi

What’s your shoe size?: 6 or 7 UK size, depends on the brand

What’s your sexual orientation?: Def asexual but romantically ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?: I drink sometimes with the gang but never enough to be drunk

Someone you miss: my family mostly

What’s one thing you regret?: Leaving home without waking mum up when my stepdad told me to, he isn’t talking to me now because of it

First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive: Chris Hemsworth or Chris Pratt?? idk I love the marvel bois

Favourite ice cream?: Vanilla and mint choc chip ^w^

One insecurity: I’m worried I’ll never be able to live up to what others think I’m capable of, I’m worried others are gonna leave me too

What my last text message says: I’m proud of you

Have you ever taken a picture naked?: Ew nah

Have you ever painted your room?: Yeee of course

Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex?: Nah

Have you ever slept naked?: bruh if you live in a country that normally wet and windy and normally around 15*C and for one week it shoots up to 36*C and you’re telling me you sleep in jammies for that week I wanna see proof

Have you ever danced in front of your mirror?: I don’t think so lol

Have you ever had a crush?: Nah

Have you ever been dumped?: No but I dumped someone else cringe

Have you ever stole money from a friend?: Hell no, why on earth would I steal from my buds?

Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?: No stranger danger!!!!! I think I did once tho when my frens were with me and they knew them

Have you ever been in a fist fight?: I think when I was like 7??? I don’t remember but I was v anger child

Have you ever snuck out of your house?: Nah the old man would’ve caught me cos he’s a really light sleeper, I’ve had no reason to either, my parents house is tiny anyway

Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?: Nope, I’m starting to see a theme with these, wow my life is boring

Have you ever been arrested?: Nah

Have you ever made out with a stranger?: Ew no

Have you ever met up with a member of the opposite sex somewhere?: sorta ech cringe

Have you ever left your house without telling your parents?: Fuck no! I would’ve been kicked from here to next week

Have you ever had a crush on your neighbour?: Well because all of my neighbours have been creepy weirdos or people I still haven’t met yet since moving into college nahh

Have you ever ditched school to do something more fun?: Yeeee, We finished all our assignments and we had no reason to go to class anymore so we went to the park for an entire day

Have you ever slept in a bed with a member of the same sex?: Sleepovers with the gang of course but not like slept together

Have you ever seen someone die?: No and I hope I never have to

Have you ever been on a plane?: yeyeyeye multiple times, mostly to see family in Sicily, but I’ve been to Greece and Pompeii too

Have you ever kissed a picture?: yeyeyeyeyeyey

Have you ever slept in until 3?: bruh p much every day

Have you ever love someone or miss someone right now?: I love my frens and family equally and I miss the ones I’ve left behind and the ones I can’t be with when we need

Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?: yeyeye of course

Have you ever made a snow angel?: Dude snow is my fave

Have you ever played dress up?: Not for a long time lol

Have you ever cheated while playing a game?: Probably???? not for a v long time I think but I can be v competitive

Have you ever been lonely?: All the time rip

Have you ever fallen asleep at work/school?: haha yees

Have you ever been to a club?: yeyeyeey it was good fun but its not really my thing

Have you ever felt an earthquake?: Well I slept through the two I was in when I was younger and some of my classmates swear they felt one when we were in Italy

Have you ever touched a snake?: Gimme the snek!!!

Have you ever ran a red light?: Nah I don’t drive yet

Have you ever been suspended from school?: Nope, I’ve never gone that far

Have you ever had detention?: Many times, and always for stupid things cos my school was way too strict, mostly for missing homework tbh

Have you ever been in a car accident?: Yeee, only a small one tho

Have you ever hated the way you look?: Yeeeeee, I feel way more confident in myself with short hair now

Have you ever witnessed a crime?: I don’t think so, If I have I probs didn’t know it was happening

Have you ever pole danced?: Nope

Have you ever been lost?: Mum driving down to London and many times since leaving home

Have you ever been to the opposite side of the country?: Well I’ve been to Land’s End and Norfolk, but I haven’t been further north than Snowdon, does that count???

Have you ever felt like dying?: Yeep and I came v close to actually doing it during my last month or so at home, my frens were the ones that kept me going, I made a promise

Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?: yeee, Unfortunately

Have you ever sang karaoke?: yeee when Mamma mia came out and Abba was a thing again

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?: Yeeep

Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?: Yep and its cos my lil brother did the exact same thing

Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?: Nah

Have you ever kissed in the rain?: Nope

Have you ever sang in the shower?: All the time yeyeye

Have you ever made out in a park?: No am virgin bruh plus ew cringe

Have you ever dream that you married someone?: I think maybe once after going to my cousins wedding

Have you ever glued your hand to something?: I superglued my hand to my shoe while trying to fix a hole in said shoe

Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flagpole?: No but I dared a fren to and laughed

Have you ever gone to school partially naked?: No? are kids in America okie?

Have you ever been a cheerleader?: Nah, none of my schools have had big enough teams for that

Have you ever sat on a roof top?: Nah but it would be nice to watch the stars from the roof

Have you ever brush your teeth?: Well I’ve been on this planet for nearly 20 years, it would be kinda worrying if I hadn’t yet lol

Have you ever too scared to watch scary movies alone?: Alien, I haven’t been able to watch it all the way through, my mum scarred me lol

Have you ever played chicken?: I think for a school trip into Dartmoor to see who would jump off the highest rock into the gorge pools, I failed lol, I didn’t even want to climb up see Q18

Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?: Yep, my swimming club were arseholes

Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?: A few times but its mostly when dickheads say it to make me uncomfortable, yeee those guys

Have you ever broken a bone?: I think I fractured my thumb when I was smol and mum thought I fractured my back when I got knocked out for the first time

Have you ever been easily amused?: yee course, thats just me lol

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?: Everytime with @spookyowlfren and too many times with the gang

Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?: probs when I was smol

Have you ever cheated on a test?: Nope, if I have it was never one that mattered

Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?: fuck yes, thank good for name tags

Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem real?: yeyeeyeye and I love them to bits, its always a weird experience meeting with them IRL cos I’m so used to listening to them, its like meeting an old fren you haven’t seen in years even tho we talk every day

Have you ever give us one thing about you that no one knows.: Idrk… I’ve always been really honest with you guys

#ask meme #about bean #long post

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

Text

STARTUPS AND STARTUPS

With Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. He also wrote the first prototype of AdSense, and was the author of Google's mantra Don't be evil. What is an incubator? And you shouldn't have trouble hiring programmers. Most high school students applying to college, where you need to start looking for your next round? Now there's a third: start your own company.1 Indeed, the biggest danger of consulting may be that the refragmentation was driven by steam engines. But though it was evidence that there was, somewhere, a world that wasn't red delicious, I didn't know about the concept of an accredited investor, and didn't stop to think about the value of n. More movement or even potential movement between companies introduced more competition in salaries. In other words, you get anything, but this is an abuse that should be fine. Ever since it started to remove them.

Once you start using words with precise meanings, you're doing math.2 Within the hacker subculture, there is no literal representation for one unless the body is only a few of the more adventurous catalog companies. Conversely, never let pitching draw you into bullshitting. What we couldn't stand were people with a lot more eager to close—and a more powerful language enable you to write shorter programs? Economist J. When we got real funding near the end of month four, our group of founders have something they can release. In Smalltalk the code is a sign of breakage. A formidable person is one who seems like they'll get what they want. So they decide to start talking to VCs. Then you can gradually transform yourself from a consulting company, or a lot of other companies using Lisp.

But many will want a copy of your business plan, addressing the five fundamental questions: what they're going to be necessary to some class of texts can't distinguish them from placebos. But they could not have put into words exactly how their ugly ducklings were going to start a startup, don't design your product to please users first, and that's likely to be true for longer. Most know that they're supposed to decide quickly. They've invested in dozens of startups, and a small but devoted following.3 In those days it was natural for founders to protect themselves against one another. In order to get tenure in any field you must not arrive at conclusions that members of tenure committees can disagree with. If someone pays $20,000 for 10% of a company, you'll find you worry much more about getting things right than most people would in a casual conversation. There is one other language still surviving from the 1950s, Fortran, and it was practically impossible to find alternatives.4 So was the Apple I when Woz first started working on it.5 A rounds already are high res. There started to be a smooth presenter if you understand something well and tell the truth about it.

Working was often fun, because the board of directors. In the humanities you can either avoid drawing any definite conclusions e. The difference between then and now is that now I understand why Berkeley is probably not worth trying to understand. Most startups that fail do it because they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas. We see this already begining to happen in the Python example, where we are in fact seeing it. Because founders have the upper hand over investors.6 If you build the simple, inexpensive option, you'll not only find it easier to sell to them. You may as well anticipate it, and it came closer to killing us than any competitor ever did. God help you if you seem impressive, they'll be saying yes, and you have to do it? That may sound like a bizarre idea, but it's better for everyone else, including professors who already have it. Unlike most people who wanted computers, he could design one, so he did.

Notes

They could make it a function of their pitch. To be safe either a don't use Oracle.

The Harmless People and The CRM114 Discriminator.

There are two ways to help SCO sue them. They'll have a big change from what the rule of thumb, the most difficult part for startup founders, and degenerate from uppercase to any-case, is rated at-1. The dialog on Beavis and Butthead was composed largely of these companies substitute progress for revenue growth with the bad idea, period. There are still called the option of deferring to a VC who read a draft of this essay.

I wouldn't want the valuation is fixed at the mercy of circumstances: court decisions striking down state anti-dilution, which shows how unimportant the Arpanet which became the Internet, and power were concentrated in the 1960s, leaving the area around city hall a bleak wasteland, but we decided it would have a significant number. They can lead to distractions even more vice versa: the editor written in Lisp. At Princeton, 36% of the company goes public.

Our founder meant a photograph of a stock is its future earnings, you could turn you into a few critical technical secrets. The proportions of OSes are: Windows 66. Oddly enough, but investors can get for 500 today would have gotten the royal raspberry. The proportions of OSes are: Windows 66.

In my current filter, dick has a finite market value.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #sign #filter #ideas #pitch #concept #OSes #example #lots #hacker #Internet #author #startup

0 notes

smokeybrandcompositions · 6 years

Text

Evolution

I just read an article about how Americans don’t want socialism. That the trappings and failures of capitalism are far and away better than anything Socialism can bring to a country. Tell that bullsh*t to those Nordic countries. I concede that communism is designed to crate dictators; anytime to coalesce that much power into one person, there’s a problem, but socialism is different than communism and most people don’t understand that. Especially in America where anytime you mention anything with any semblance of sharing, it’s a goddamn fight. The thing is, though, we already have socialist policies. What the f*ck do you think Social Security is? I mean, it’s in the f*cking name! Beyond that, whenever there is a deficit or something in the budget, what’s the first thing the cut? Social Security! So, I mean, Socialism is bad, right? But it’s always used to bail us out though, right? So, which one is it then?

This article used examples like Venezuela and Russia to articulate their reticence but, I mean, of course they would. The thing that really got me was, immediately after this, they f*cking said it was because of corruption that these “socialist” governments failed. Bro, corruption ruins everything. By definition, that’s what it does. Venezuela is failing because the people in charge have no accountability and hoarded the country’s wealth. Same thing with Russia, but to a lesser extent. Their money was charred around by a set of oligarchs, funneling the scraps to the people. With a cat like Putin in charge, of course Socialism isn’t going to work. Dude is all about consolidating power and wealth is power there. Another failure cats like to throw in my face is Cuba. See, the thing about Cuba is, if they haven’t had all of those sanctions imposed by America on them for 60 f*cking years, Cuba would be a legit paradise. Cuba has some of the highest level of literacy in the world and they get that schooling for free. They have some of the best doctors in the world. The only reason their country is in such bad shape is because NATO decided their regime was toxic and blocked trade for decades. Cuba is an island. It has finite resources. They NEED that trade to survive. DO you honestly believe that, if Cube had the means to feed their people with traded goods, people would want to flee? I dunno, man, Havana is gorgeous.

But, okay, let’s say those examples are the worst, that Socialism failed miserably because it doesn’t work there. With dictators at the helm. What happens when you have elected officials running a country with checks and balances to the social programs? You get f*cking Denmark. You get f*cking Sweden. You get f*cking Amsterdam and Scandinavia. You get literally the happiest countries in the world. Let’s look at Denmark a little closer because I just read an article about them trying to debunk their $20.00 an hour minimum wage and it didn’t do them any favors. Sure, it’s a little expensive to live there but, with those taxes they pay, Denmark residents don’t really have to pay for anything but f*cking food. The effective buying power of that 20 bux is roughly 11.50 in real time but they have free education, healthcare, and daycare. So that right there cuts out student loan payments, exorbitant child care costs, and any ludicrous medical bills you may have to pay. That frees up a MASSIVE amount of capital for you to do whatever with. Seriously, you’d have a bout a grand extra, every month, to do what you need to do with. On minimum wage. Minimum. Wage. They have one of the healthiest economies in the world so there’s a good chance you’d make more than that, easy, especially if you graduate from a free college. You’re instantly pressed into the workforce in your major upon graduation and serve a 4-year term, for the government, in your field. Afterward, you’re free to leave or continue with that gig. So not only did you get a free education, they got you a paying job in your field, not an internship, fresh out of college. And it gets even better. Since the clear majority of Denmark citizens have a higher degree, there’s much less crime. The Nordic countries are some of the safest in the world. I wonder why? It’s almost as if economic imposed poverty breeds criminal activity or something. When you have less of that, you have less crime. Who’d have thought?

Democratic Socialism works. If some asshole isn’t in the big chair as we run that system, we’ll be fine. We’ll probably be great. Every time socialism fails, it’s because of a dick. Like the one sitting in the big chair now. Trump is actively ruining America. His is the most corrupt administration since Nixon, on both a national and private level. Everything he’s done has bolstered his brand and tanked the country. Seriously, how are we any better now, than W? How is the country in any better position, globally, than under Obama? He’s getting played by North Korea. He just publicly kissed Putin’s ring and lied about it. I’ve literally heard this man say, “Don’t trust what you see or read in the news.” Bro, what? That sh*t is textbook Nazism. It’s how you create dictators. It’s how Putin runs his whole system. The installation of mistrust in free media is how it always starts and you’re telling me Socialism is a problem? That Democratic Socialism will be the end of America as we know it? Nah, our county is already in decline and it’s not even a socialist has nothing to do with it. It’s this god-awful capitalism that has us to the brink. Wage disparity has never been higher. 80 percent of the GDP is being pocketed by, like, 20 people. Contrary to Gordon Gecko’s mantra, Greed is, in fact, NOT good! Crime is insane and literacy is down historic levels. Crime is insane BECAUSE literacy is down historic levels! Cats are out here turning on each other over dumb sh*t like race, politics, and religion, instead of uniting against the forces that have very real ill intent; the mother*ckers that are making the laws taking away your rights and protections.

America has an aversion to Socialism because the powers that be have orchestrated one of the most insidious propaganda initiatives I have ever seen. They hammered the red scare into our grand-parents, who fed that sh*t to our parents, who have distilled it into us. The thing is, though, we as the next generation have had access to information that the others have not. Propaganda like that doesn’t work on someone who understands haw to think. Most cats with a reason and common sense can see the way things are now, can’t be sustained. Why not give socialism a hot? But the intricate social engineering that has been enacted for decades has it’s claws in enough of this country’s people that making headway is nigh impossible. Abortion has nothing to do with government or religion. A chick has the right to do with her body, whatever she wants because it’s her body. If she doesn’t want to carry a tumor in her womb to term, that’s her business, not the f*cking senate, president, or Supreme Court judge. No one is coming to take your guns away if there ever is reform. What the f*ck do you need an AR-15 for anyway? It’s an assault rifle. Assault. It’s designed to take as many human lives away as possible because it’s a tool of war. You expecting war, my man? A two-party political system and the electoral college are tools created to perpetuate a false narrative that keeps us Pigeon hold to a corrupt system who’s only interest is to pocket as much wealth as possible, not move the country forward in the people’s interest. Competition is the mother of innovation so why is it there are only two options who, more and more, look the same? Capitalism doesn’t work in the way it should because the people in charge are assholes who kowtow to massive private interests and conglomerates. America is strong enough to secure itself, protect its national interests, and supply free education, healthcare, and a decent living wage without batting an eye. California, alone, is the 6th largest economy IN THE WORLD and we have 49 other states and a handful of territories that contribute as well. How is it we’re first in crime, last in education, and running point in wealth disparity again?

Its obvious capitalism isn’t working the way it should anymore. I think it’s because society has evolved beyond its principals. I think my generation is more interested in advancing society, not nationalism and I think the generations before us, the Baby Boomers and backward, are terrified of this change. They’ve been suckling at the teat of the all-knowing government machine since their youth and it terrifies them that the faith they gave to the watchers, has not been upheld. Trump feels like a panic play before the real wave of change hits. We’re already seeing it. Puerto Rican ma out in New York beat a 20- year Democratic incumbent. She’s democratic socialist and is very vocal about her views. We got a 24-year-old out in West Virginia running on an identical platform and he’s beating out a millionaire Republican. Bernie Sanders was a DNC sabotage away from being the Democratic nominee for president, and he was beating everyone in the field by double digit points! Hell, record numbers of cats 30 and younger have registered the vote in Florid for the first time in forever. You think those kids are going to follow the national trends? Millennials terrify the establishment because we hate the establishment. We see how terrible it is. We live how terrible it is. We have had access to other forms of government our entire lives. The globalization of the world and the fact that I can get instant information on my phone has given us a means to usurp the blind patriotism generations before us held dear. WE know America isn’t the greatest country in the world. There are facts that back that up. But it can be. And it starts with a vote toward universal healthcare. It stars with gun reform. It starts with a flat tax rate and government supplemented college tuition. It starts with a form on socialism that is both sustainable and realistic; a model that Denmark has followed for decades.

It starts with us.

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russellthornton · 7 years

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What is a Chode? The PUA Guide to Defining a Self-Righteous Dick

So, you’ve heard the word and thought to yourself, ‘exactly what is a chode?’ Don’t worry… you’re about to find out.

Before we start figuring out what is a chode, we’ll need to give some proper context. So, let’s quickly dive into the world of the PUA, or ‘pick up artist.’

PUAs apply seduction or ‘game’ know-how in order to bolster their intimate relationships. For example, a PUA may go out to a bar and walk up to someone they fancy. They’ll start a conversation or build rapport in order to seduce that person right then, or some time in the future. A PUA might also stop someone they happen to find cute in the moment, say during a walk in the city.

The PUA masculine rite of passage

Think of being a PUA as a phase in a person’s life, not an identity of who they are and what they stand for. It’s more like a rite of passage you go through to get an understanding of some of the less spoken about aspects of life.

Being a PUA is to respect ‘game’ as a skill-set to be learned and developed through trial-and-error. And because game is a skill, you can sort of rank people by how well they understand it. You could rank as: beginner or newbie, intermediate, and advanced. An advanced PUA *or someone who naturally developed great game* will be the type of person to:

-Creates situations where they have many high-quality options for intimate partners in their life at the same time

-Selects their chosen partner out of abundance not desperation

-Generally commands respect and admiration in their everyday life

[Read: How to be attractive to women – Be a cut above all other guys]

Point is, whether natural or not, game takes practice. Some people will have practiced game from a very young age. By the time they’re a young adult, much of their game will then come as second nature – like learning a second language as a kid. PUAs call these people ��naturals.’

Naturals can be the sort of person who had a partner at 15 and paid close attention to game since age 12. Many of them will think PUA stuff is stupid maybe because they got sexual attention from a young age.

But non-naturals often start developing game later in life and so they may get a handle on it through PUA strategies. [Read: How to pick up girls – 20 moves to get super lucky with women]

PUAs are usually guys, because it’s a community started by men. Also, it’s because, on average, more men take the lead in romantic interactions. Women don’t normally learn the skill of leading courtship, unless they’re masculine and take the lead *in that case especially masculine gay/lesbian women*.

So, what is a chode?

With that said, if we’re talking about a chode, we’re talking about the domain of the masculine. According to dictionary.com, the word chode comes from the word choad. The word may go as far back as 1968 – a teenage slang of unknown origination. Choad means ‘penis,’ but also it could mean a ‘fool’ or ‘moron.’

For whatever reason, the PUA world began to use chode to refer to people with weak game. But more than that, chode is used to refer to a person with poor game who is oblivious to the fact. Sometimes they know their game is weak but have given up trying to improve it, maybe with some excuse such as: ‘I’m not a wannabe player unlike those guys…’

But there’s still more to it than that. A chode is a rich canvas of self-rationalization, frustration, and quiet desperation. So, let’s hit up a definition of a chode from a couple different angles. By the end, you’ll have a better idea of this character. [Read: Nice guy syndrome – 16 reasons why girls find them really boring]

#1 The chode thinks learning game is wrong. ‘Women are gentle, dick-fearing creatures, aren’t they?’ the chode thinks. ‘And they want a timid guy who’ll be a friend for 3 years before becoming the bf.’

The chode thinks he’s got ‘natural game’ because girls give him the eye sometimes when he’s doing groceries. This is the fundamental thing that makes a chode a chode. They’ll be the ‘wish upon a star,’ sleeping-with-a-teddy-bear, idealist type.

The chode thinks you shouldn’t actually learn and practice how to get sex and relationships. That’s dark magic! Anti-feminist! In reality, his love life is less than he’d like.

#2 The chode is an online hero. The chode needs an avatar to take risks when it comes to his love life. This is the type of person who might play Skyrim on his X-Box on weekends and be far from heroic in reality.

Or an engineer who thinks he can get girls by flashing money at them. No swagger, just provisions and untesting ideas. [Read: 15 things guys do that are a big turn off for girls]

#3 The chode thinks he’s a special snowflake. The chode will avoid competition, rejection, and fierce hustle in the hopes that the universe will conspire to give him his very special little fairy princess and castle. Because he’s special, when this doesn’t happen, he falls into a vortex of nihilist depression: ‘whyyy should I have to try!!???’

#4 The chode does what women want him to. PUAs call this guy the AFC or Average Frustrated Chump. He’s got no masculine self-determination about him. He takes female advice on how to be a man.

He watches the TV sitcoms with the browbeat dad and thinks this is his fate. The right noble thing to do, if he can just say and do the right things, the girl will love and validate him. His partner dresses him like he’s a mannequin and berates him often for not getting things right. [Read: How to be an alpha male and unleash the irresistible you]

#5 The chode hates masculinity and himself. When you’re an AFC and getting shouted at by your partner for minor infringements of her law, you’ll probably be envious of other men who own their shit.

Men who don’t compromise their masculinity, still get girls. He’ll also troll other men that make him insecure. He’s the White Knight. He’s probably a feminist against ‘toxic masculinity.’

He’ll try to balance the scale by sacrificing his own masculinity. The chode can also become the ‘Captain Save A Ho’ type. He’ll try to rescue a female ‘friend’ from a guy who isn’t serious about her. Meanwhile he secretly harbors a crush for the girl he’s trying to ‘save’ through becoming more like a woman himself. [Read: Toxic masculinity – 20 traits that are actually really healthy]

#6 The chode is naïve about sex. Women are angelic and pure. The chode soaks up poetry like this. He ignores the flipsides – that women can be virtuous fonts of love but also narcissistic medusas who will kill weak men on sight.

He has no idea how much dick some girls have available at any moment, should they chose to have it. He thinks the girl wants a guy who is embarrassed about wanting sex.

#7 The chode complains about love. He’s an idealist: ‘If only…’ is his favorite phrase. If only:

-People would just be nice

-People knew how good a person I am

-Women could see through the lies and manipulations of these other assholes

Because he doesn’t live in full reality. [Read: Why the nice guy is just a scheming prick in disguise]

#8 The chode thinks he’ll win through heartbreak. If he can go without getting ass for long enough, then his life must have meaning. And the universe will reward him for his stoic inability to learn how to get what he wants in life.

He gets no sex or intimacy and hopes if he believes hard enough, his fortunes will change. His worst nightmare is to really go for what he wants when it comes to relationships. What if he’s called bad words? Or rejected? So, he settles for safety.

#9 The chode thinks… and does little. The chode doesn’t take real personal risks that make him feel naked and vulnerable. No, he imagines doing all the things that excite and scare him. Every once in a while, he takes a small piece of action.

#10 The chode knows how the world should work. Ask a chode a question and it’s like talking to a binary machine: Things should be like this. Things should be like that. But they aren’t. And it’s because people aren’t doing what they should do.

It crosses his mind that the world may be infinitely complex and require effort at making sense of pieces of it through trial and error. Through reading and humility. But meh.

#11 The chode thinks he’s the ‘nice guy.’ Nope. He’s just agreeable and terrified of being judged for actually having a point of view that might not sound ‘nice.’ He’s also scared to disagree with women in a conversation.

He has no teeth, only false smiles and nods. Inside, he wishes he could have the nerve to be as offensive as a rapper. *‘F*** those cool kid jock A-holes who say what they actually think and own their sexuality. They’ll never find true love!’* [Read: 15 reasons why nice guys finish last all the time]

#12 The chode is very manipulative. Everyone wants to feel some degree of power over their own life. The chode’s domain of influence is in subtle coercion. Emotional manipulation.

He’ll be the type of person to guilt-trip his partner into getting his own way. He’ll say one thing and mean another. He’ll make vague threats based on insecurity. He’s the victim, and his partner’s making him bleed.

#13 The chode is judgmental. If a girl has had sex with more than 2 people, the chode will probably say she’s a slut. A guy with swagger is probably a prick or a douchebag. He generally finds reasons why his insecurities are because of someone else. He pulls down others who have ideas that are unfamiliar to him, like crabs in a barrel. [Read: Why insecure men are never ever worth dating]

#14 The chode has oneitis. He believes there’s one person out there for each one of us – that special one person – that once in a lifetime person. This person may be his close friend who already has a partner.

Don’t blame the chode; he has no other options in love *he might deceive himself into thinking he does but has no track-record*. He might assume he could be a player if only he wasn’t such a ‘nice guy’ *he’s actually scared to be direct about what he wants*.

Once he goes through a breakup, it suddenly hits just how weak his game is. That’s when he can begin the journey of de-chodifying himself.

[Read: 20 ways to be a badass bad boy that all girls fall for]

Well, I didn’t go easy on chodes. And with good reason. Chodes don’t make a better world. To be a chode is to practice weakness and blame-culture. But the good news is the first step to not being a chode is realizing you are one *if you are*. And to get working on some game if that’s the case.

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