I Don't Believe L've Ever Met Anyone Quite Like You. Taxi Driver (1976) Dir. Martin Scorsese

Ares x Reader (One Shot)

“Oh absolutely fucking not.”

You held your hands up in disgust, backing away from the obviously bewildered beast of a man who stood before you. He looked stunned, as if you were the first woman to say no to him.

“Are you fucking with me?” He demanded, dark brows raised.

You scoffed at him, stunned that he would even ask you such a bold question. “Ares, seriously? You seriously though I’d say yes to that? Did Hermes toss you a few mushrooms again or are you just that fucking stupid?” You searched his face, desperately hoping this was some sick joke and the man you’d managed to somewhat befriend was only trying to crack a dumb joke for the sake of watching you squirm. But the way his mouth twisted downwards confirmed that it was indeed not a joke. Was he actually offended?

“We literally just started getting along!” You shouted, tossing your hands in the air in frustration. You could feel your cheeks beginning to warm. You were angry, somewhat hurt and thoroughly embarrassed. Why did anything with a penis always pull a stunt like this?

“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to something that could literally make every other god wild with envy!” He shot back, large hands curling into fists at his side. You’d bruised his ego, and maybe anyone else would have been terrified if the god of war was standing before them looking less than displeased but you barely batted an eye. You were one of the only ones who didn’t react to his bullshit. The chances of you taking him down were level with his defeating you.

“Wild with envy?” You asked incredulously, sneering at him. “Are you fucked? One, Aphrodite would have my head on a pike!” You held your finger up, moving towards him to point it angrily in his face. “And two, it would be a fucking psychopath.”

Ares’ jaw twitched as he clenched it. He didn’t seem to pleased with the notion that you were insulting the non existent child he’d proposed the two of you create.

“No he wouldn’t,” He shot back indignantly, taking a step towards you. He towered over you, but you only squared your shoulders.

“The god of war? Producing a child that isn’t a raging lunatic?” Your eyebrows shot up. You were mocking him now. “I sincerely doubt that’s even possible. And secondly, why the fuck did you assume it would be a boy?!” You were shouting now, heart beat rising as your anger began to stir. The string of curses that you were about to let loose would have made Dionysus himself blush.

“You’ve got an awful lot of guts to talk to me like this,” Ares growled, moving closer to you. He was less than a foot from you now, and you could hear him grind his teeth as he lowered his face to yours. His eyes were wild with rage, and you watched with amusement as they began to churn. Oh, yes, the god of war had become so angry he was starting to lose control. You could see the chaos beginning to unfurl behind them. Images of people tearing each other apart, wars unfolding, misery and despair taking control. It was enough to drive a man insane.

But you were no man.

“Don’t make an enemy out of me Ares.” Your voice was dangerously low, you could feel the way your own pupils began to darken. “I will hunt you like a wild animal and gut you before the very people that worship you.”

His pupils widened, just slightly, and you could have sworn it was lust that clouded his gaze. You wouldn’t have been surprised. Why wouldn’t a man whom everyone feared not feel attracted to one of the only women who could actually stand a chance against him in the ring? You’d never admit it out loud, but some part of you was attracted to him as well. He was dangerous, he actually stood a chance against your prowess.

“I should cut your head off for the way you speak to me,” He hissed, lips curling back over his incisors. His dark, curly hair was still plastered to his forehead, the sweat still glistening on his skin from your sparring match earlier. You’d come out here to train with him, work on some new war tactics, not argue over theoretical children. Although, his bronzed skin did look good…and the scar that ran from his jaw to his cheekbone looked rather-

“Fuck off.” You couldn’t tell if you were saying it to him, or yourself. You should have seen it coming, and you cursed yourself when you didn’t move quickly enough to block him. It was over in a matter of seconds, but you could only wheeze when Ares suddenly had his chest pressed against your back, your arms twisted painfully behind you. You winced, fighting the urge to groan in pain when he pressed the side of your face further into the dirt. “Bastard.”

“I’d avoid insulting the god of war when you can’t even defend yourself.” You could hear the sick fuck’s twisted grin as he whispered into your ear, noting that his grin became animalistic when you shivered at the sensation of his breath on your skin.

“Eat shit you spoiled rotten brat-“ You managed to choke out, curling your hands into fists. He’d break your arm if you made any sudden movements. Not that it would take long to heal, but breaking bones was never something you actively sought out. It still hurt every time.

“I should rip out your spine and leave you here,” Ares growled into your ear, fingers tightening painfully around your wrist as he pushed your face deeper into the dirt. You were going to cut his head off once you were free. “Let the animals-“

Ares was cut off when you let loose a primal shout, hooking your leg around his and kicking backwards. He rocked forward, nose breaking against the side of your skull. You rolled to the side, forcing your hands out of his grip, shoulder tearing from its socket in the process. You pushed yourself to your feet, chest heaving as you glowered down at the man who still lay a few feet from you. Your arm was hanging limply at your side, and you watched as Ares rocked back onto his haunches, wicked eyes meeting your own as he halfhazardly dragged his hand under his rapidly healing nose. Golden ichor flowed freely from it, coating the lower half of his face.

Ares couldn’t help it anymore. He watched, feeling absolutely fucking feral, as you stared down at him. Your eyes were ablaze with rage, the humanity within them barely a whisper, as you struggled to catch your breath. Your gaze didn’t leave his as you suddenly let loose a roar, reaching over to slam your arm back into its socket. You were fucking stunning, a wild woman who could not be contained. Even Zeus feared you, and it made Ares want you even more. He’d never intended to fall for you, in fact he’d only started speaking to you because he’d felt threatened by your presence and he’d wanted to discover your weaknesses. But when he’d watch you draw your weapon, lips curling into a grin as you tore through whatever stood between you and your goal, he’d damn near dropped to his knees. You were a wild animal, incapable of feeling fear, and he wanted you more than he’d dare admit to anyone, even himself.

Aphrodite was beautiful, a beauty nothing could compare to, but you were different. You could stop an immortal being in it’s tracks with your gaze. Mortals barely even spoke your name for fear of crossing you and bringing your rage upon them.

And Ares wanted you more than anything. God, the idea of fucking you had been living in his mind for so fucking long, he’d barely been able to focus on anything else. And whether you wanted to admit it or not, the two of you could create a child no one on Olympus had ever dreamed of.

“If you ever fucking try to cross me again,” Ares was barely processing your words as you spoke, instead noting how his blood had stained your hair, “I’ll rip your head off and eat it.”

Ares licked his lips, eyes glued to your ass as you stalked away from him. “Same time tomorrow?” He called after you, smiling like a madman when you turned to scowl at him over your shoulder. He knew you wanted him too.

🧸

An angel sent from heaven 👼🏼

"Im very proud to admit the car is mega, but you still need someone to execute well"

‼️SAY ‼️IT ‼️LOUDER ‼️

Marry You

Lorenzo Alleno x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: talks of marriage, bad driving 

Author’s Note: i just love this movie, it’s so freaking good. I wrote this as I rewatched and it’s just as good as I remember 

Summary: you hitch a ride on the bus 

Genre: fluff

Song: streets of the bronx by bells and string orchestra 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Keep reading

The Implicit Demand for Proof- Masterlist

Pairing: detective David Loki x reader

Summary: you, a forensic psychologist, get called in on a high priority child abduction case in Conyers, PA. What happens when you catch feelings for detective Loki?

Warnings: spoilers for the movie, movie level violence, slight change of events, language

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 (end)

Don’t fucking remind me what the fuck is wrong with you

holy. shit.

I thought I was going to forget about him, but somehow he always comes to my mind. Specifically today. I’ve thought of him, so many times, that I’m really close to jumping out of the window.

Weirdly, we had a favourite song in common. Guess what song? “i was all over her” by salvia palth.

Ridiculous innit? Very much so.

Listen, he was a tremendously basic guy who loved fucking around and doing drugs. I’ve got nothing against it, but like when you do smth don’t brag about it. On god y’all, when he’d start bragging about the spliffs or blunts he’d do every hour, I would fall in a mental crisis. Bro was an attention seeker. And did I give him attention?

Nope.

Now, let’s leave all the poetic stuff. I’m already pissed the freak off. Guys think that girls are attracted to them doing drugs or smoking stuff or drinking bs or i don’t even know man, doing stupid shit. When in reality motherfucker, I personally think you all are toxic as fuck.

Listen, if I do blunts, I do them and I don’t say shit to anyone. Cause I’m doing it bc I want to do it. Like, first of all, I’m doing them in secret. How the fuck does it even come to mind to tell somebody else what you just did? Do you get me? As in, bruv you do drugs? Perfect, cool, good for ya. Whaddaya want me to say to ya? “Oh darling you’re so amazing! You’re giving a great example to all your friends, and you’re being really healthy to me. Truly spectacular! Your talent of doing drugs will help you achieve your goals in life! Go on like this!” or do ya want me to say “Oh daddy! You are so hot! Please give me the blunt so I can take a hit too while you’re pounding me in the ass!!!!”

Like ew. Ew man. Ew boy.

I just hate how we are totally focusing our attention to unnecessary stuff instead of fighting for what is really worth fighting for. There are important things to focus on. Like where we live in, the people we live with, what we do etc. Why can’t we focus on improving our body language and our behaviour towards other people? For example, trying to stop the trend of embracing overrated “emotions” like anxiety, for starters.

The four main emotions are “mad, glad, sad and scary”. All the other “emotions” are a mix of two of these main emotions.

What does that mean? It SHOWS us that we need to focus more on these four emotions. Because, how are we going to improve our performance in “feeling better” or “fixing ourselves” without first of all acknowledging these four main emotions?

We all go to the therapist and psychiatrist or psychologist for help. To try and “understand” what’s our problem. What are our problems? Do we have an issue? Oh! My therapist diagnosed me with social anxiety!

Now is it really fair to you to behave this way with your listeners or readers or idk watchers? Because we are all making psychological serious issues or problems into fucking normal ones. As in, people are romanticising problems. Instead of embracing them and finding a solution to it, we jump into ADVERTISING OUR PROBLEMS TO THE WORLD. (bc it’s super fun!!!!!!) (it’s all sarcastic btw)

This is all too funny to me.

We are all fucking puppets. And egoistical fucking monsters. There are real people that have gone through terrible trauma and they aren’t SPONSORING their life and problems bc they seek for attention and fame. There are people that, for this tiny opportunity that all the other egoistical worms have selfishly used, they would have left behind their own lives.

We always say how “life is unfair” or “life is such a bitch” but nah uh baby. You are such a bitch. You are unfair. Because YOU are making this society really unhealthy to the other people. We are destroying our lives. We are destroying our community. We are destroying our world. We are destroying our race. And we our destroying ourselves.

Aren’t we unfair?

Aren’t we such bitches?

This all thing doesn’t mean any harm. It’s all a thought provoking essay. Just a reflecting tiny writing. Creative let’s say.

Danke.

Your face is all fucked up from taking the world by the teeth

And there's blood on your hands you don't know whose it is

thinking many thoughts.