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#They work so hard to support themselves and me
1d1195 · 1 day
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Ding - Round 3
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Read Ding here | ~6.5k words
Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff
Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.
From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕
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Harry was mad.
Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.
He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.
Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.
He knew.
"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.
“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.
Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.
He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”
Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”
Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.
But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.
His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.
The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.
She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”
“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.
She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.
Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.
Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.
“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”
He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.
She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.
Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.
*
In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.
What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.
Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)
Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(
It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.
“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”
“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.
Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.
“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.
The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”
“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”
“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”
Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.
“I’m Maeve,” she announced.
“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”
“You have a very cute niece.”
Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”
“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”
Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.
“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”
Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”
Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.
*
She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.
Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.
He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”
That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.
“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.
He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”
“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.
He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”
“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”
“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”
“No?”
“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”
“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.
They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”
She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”
“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.
“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.
“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”
She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”
She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”
He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.
She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you please tell me?”
She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.
“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.
At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.
Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.
*
Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.
“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.
“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.
Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.
“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.
Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.
Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.
Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.
“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.
“Watch me?” He repeated.
“Not this again,” she smirked.
He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.
She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”
“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.
He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”
Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”
“I won’t be,” she shook her head.
That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.
When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.
“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.
He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.
“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”
She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.
“You’ll get there,” he assured her.
Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”
“No, you lunatic.”
“Coward.”
She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”
Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.
She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.
He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.
“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.
“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.
Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.
“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.
She really liked it.
*
After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.
Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.
Oh? 😍
Sorry, I know that’s...
A lot...
I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.
The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.
I like to keep him guessing a little 😉
Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.
Ding.
The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.
Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.
Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.
“She could make more, m’sure.”
Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.
Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.
Ding.
With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.
“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.
If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.
Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.
Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?
After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.
“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”
“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.
Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.
She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.
But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.
She nodded, her eyes watering.
He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.
“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.
Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.
“Harry, please,” she whispered.
His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.
“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.
Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.
She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.
Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.
“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”
“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.
“It was such bad judgment.”
He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”
It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.
At the end, Harry pulled away from her.
Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.
“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.
He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.
"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.
She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”
She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”
He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”
He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.
*
“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.
“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”
“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.
“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”
She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”
“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.
She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.
“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”
“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”
“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.
For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.
“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”
“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”
She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.
She couldn't wait to see Harry.
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--
taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach
@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals
@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams
@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland
@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles
@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter
@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri @indierockgirrl
@michellekstyles @just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist here
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"If everyone who liked the video bought a subscription then they would make x amount of money blah blah blah" MAY be true but you guys have to understand that even if they make that much money it still will not be enough to last them long term.
1. They are in an oversaturated market offering substandard services
2. Gaining more consumers is extremely hard for subscription based services
3. Retaining consumers is even harder (doubly so when there are better services on the market) ((this is why subscription services make it difficult to cancel))
4. Overhead costs for these services are expensive between running costs, advertisements (which you need a LOT OF), and then content creation costs
They've already set themselves behind on Marketing. This release has been disastrous. And if they start an aggressive ad campaign like they need to they will face immense backlash. Without new consumers their already small profit will be effectively limited. When they are limited they can't grow their content. When they can't grow their content they will lose subscriptions on top of the normal drop off rate that comes with these services. They've totally fucked this release. They need to back down because this venture is dead in the water.
The worst possible case that was still salvageable would have been a scenario where no one really hears about the service but they have a committed base who did that allows them to work on growing support.
Second Worst-but-Salvageable-Case is they walk back the exclusivity and used the service like a Patreon thus retaining the consumers who can be swayed back into favor but aren't willing or able to pay for the subscription service. That enables them to still profit off of both halves of the company.
Absolutely best case scenario was this release being met with positive response.
Anything else meant this thing was dead from the moment it released. They might be able to squeeze a few months out of it but the money will run out.
They still have time to walk this back and make money on youtube if they downsize and work on gaining back trust with their fan base. Unless in the absolute worst move possible, they've banked everything on this and have effectively bankrupted themselves.
All of this screams they had absolutely no business plan to me. How they have managed the business for four years without it is beyond me. Clearly they haven't based on how they are acting right now.
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lightlycareless · 2 days
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Hii! I just wanted to let you know that I'm a big fan of your work!
I started of with discovering your "First it Hurts" fic on ao3, then being updated to your every post cus I look forward to every fic or hc's you make!
Also, I loved the valentines special post 💗💗 BUT IM SO CURIOUS ABOUT NAOYA'S LETTER AHH, anyways I just wanted to let yknow that I love your fics and the way you write Naoya! I hope you continue writing fics about him since there's a scarcity on Naoya fics HAHAHA, but I dont mean to pressure you! Please take your time, and I'm eagerly waiting for your new fics!
Hello!!
Awww thank you so so so much!! I'm so happy you're liking it so far!!!!! 🥺❤️ akajghajkghasgjas as well as my oneshot :>
Also, I'd like to apologize for the delay; I'm slowly working my way through requests, the main fic, and the weird schedule for my job 💀 I greatly appreciate your support and patience 🥺❤️ Also, I'll be writing Naoya fics for like, ever. I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO SEE HIM ANIMATED OMG ALL THE INSPIRATION.... gotta keep this small part of the fandom alive!!!!
Now... to the letter.... I feel like it would've gone something like this:
warnings: naoya is a prick, no surprise. but... he has feelings, just that he doesn't know what to do with them. this is the oneshot anon is referring to.
Happy reading!
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Y/N.
I didn’t think letters were still written in these times, outside of elderly people and the socially inept, but I suppose that for certain occasions they are still necessary.
By the time you get this you’ll probably already have an idea of where I’m going with it, yet I’ll still write it down.
I cannot deny that you came onto my life in the most unexpected way, not necessarily the best either.
I didn’t like your siblings, and I still don’t. I think of them to be nothing but highly annoying, arrogant, especially your sister who seems to parade herself around Gojo and the privilege she had of knowing him.
Your brother is somewhat… calmer in that aspect, he tends to keep to himself, and I respect that. Everyone should be like that, you know?
But I’m not here to talk about them, of course, I’m here to talk about you.
When I heard that you were going to enroll, I wasn’t thrilled, I genuinely thought great, another nuisance was to grace the school grounds—I already had this preconceived idea of you and was more than ready on keeping it… until I finally I saw you.
I’m sure you’ve heard this a thousand times already, someone like you must’ve undoubtedly… but you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my life. Your beauty is so mesmerizing, I couldn’t believe it was real—anyone thinking otherwise is either blind, stupid, or lying. Or maybe all at the same time.
I didn’t accept those feelings at first, tried my hardest to ignore them and go back to disliking you, find a reason to hate you and move on.
But I couldn’t, and when I heard your laughter, saw your smile, or the cute way your eyes twinkled whenever you were excited about something, I knew it was impossible for me to disregard it any further.
My feelings for you had only grown more and more as time passed, and now, I find it physically impossible to contain them, but still hard to express them to you in person.
So, I resorted to this letter, which I hope will be able to accurately convey what I feel for you, if only for a fraction, until then.
What I mean to say is… If you let me, Y/N, I can show you how special you are to me.
I can give you all that you want in the world—it doesn’t matter what, whether it being money, or the stars themselves—I will not spare any expense to give you what you deserve, and I shall assess that every day of my life until my death, starting with the gifts I’ve sent you today, alongside those waiting in your dorm.
I shall call you mine. No other man will be able to lay a hand on you, and I won’t allow any other woman to do the same to me either. My eyes will solely keep to you, and you alone; I expect you to do the same.
And in turn… I don’t ask much, except that you see me the same cheerful, adorable way you see others when happy, the one that has me completely enthralled, unable to keep it off my mind for more than one second, and… accept me into your heart.
If you so decide it appropriate to get to know each other better, you know where to find me. I shall await your response.
Naoya.
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As you can see, Naoya isn’t overtly romantic or good with words (I mean, the slander at the beginning lol) but he tries, as genuinely as possible—his honesty is a virtue to appreciate lol. Also, he was TREMBLING while writing this, if not crying hahaha he really almost died when he wrote you were the prettiest girl in the whole while world.
He’ll become more comfortable with it, of course, he’s a man that can’t hold himself when it comes to talking. But it’s nice to see him all shy for once 😊
Akgjakogja I’m so happy you all liked this little oneshot—I know it was quite the bomb to drop on valentine’s day, but I swear, it’s a happy ending story :>
If there’s more you want to know about that oneshot/au just let me know, I’ll be more than happy to indulge!!
Take care, and hope to see you soon!!!
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crescentfool · 6 months
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beaming everyone on the dashh with good brain day vibes!!! i hope that you all can remember to extend self-compassion to yourself whenever you're feeling down about something 💙
#lizzy speaks#the human brain works in such profound ways i think#lately i've been thinking about that post that was like 'you will always be your oldest friend take care of yourself'#it's definitely a sentiment i agree with and i appreciate how it emphasizes the importance of extending compassion to yourself#you wouldn't say such hurtful things to your friends right? (or at least i'd hope so)#so why would you say it to yourself?#you are your own friend too. and i think everyone has a beautiful soul within themselves. nurture it! water it! feed it good thoughts.#basically i wish everyone a 'i hope that your brain is not your own enemy but rather a friend that you can find comfort in'#things will work themselves out with time. there's beauty in life and you will find small delights to cherish!! i am manifesting it for u!!#and for those who find it difficult to transition from a self-critical mindset to one that's more compassionate and nonjudgmental#i truly think that with time you will be able to rewire your brain to be kinder to yourself. i'm proud of you for taking any first steps :)#there are times in which it feels counterintuitive to go against habits that feel hard-wired... but brains are very malleable littel guys-#with such a wonderful capacity for changing and learning new things. so i hope everyone can learn to be their own best friend!#not to undermine the importance of a support network ofc. that's good too and im all for that!! but i hope everyone remembers to be kind-#not only to others but also to themselves!! you're going to do great out there!! i love you all!!#ive just been thinking about this a lot... i needed to get it out there. you all shine so brightly!!! we shall be fine!!! have a good week!#sorry if this is out of nowhere but if there's anything about me you should know it's that i'm the 'hey dont cry 8 billion people on earth-#ok?' post. idk i just find great joy in knowing others are out there thriving and finding a daily delight yknow i love humanity!!
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floralovebot · 1 year
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It's insane to me that this entire "debate" (if it can even be called that) is literally just
trans people, jewish people, black people literally everyone who has been hurt by bigotry: hey please don't spend $70 on a game about pro-slavery and fascism when a lot of that money will go to its creator who is publically bigoted and uses her massive amounts of wealth to fund the eradication of marginalized groups
and the response to that was: fuck you why can't you just let people enjoy things, harry potter personally saved my life
like. it's extremely telling that so many people value their own entertainment and nostalgia over the lives of others. jkr is such a horrible, despicable person and literally all people are saying is that yeah you shouldn't be giving a modern day nazi that much money when they constantly bring people to the alt right and donate that money to every anti-human rights organization you could think of.
and no i don't think sending people death threats is okay but at the same time, you don't get to act surprised, defensive, or victimized when people call you out for giving money to a fucking nazi.
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mcmansionhell · 8 months
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mojo dojo casa house
Howdy folks! Sorry for the delay, I was, uhhhh covering the Tour de France. Anyway, I'm back in Chicago which means this blog has returned to the Chicago suburbs. I'm sure you've all seen Barbie at this point so this 2019 not-so-dream house will come as a pleasant (?) surprise.
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Yeah. So this $2.4 million, 7 bed, 8.5+ bath house is over 15,000 square feet and let me be frank: that square footage is not allocated in any kind of efficient or rational manner. It's just kind of there, like a suburban Ramada Inn banquet hall. You think that by reading this you are prepared for this, but no, you are not.
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Scale (especially the human one) is unfathomable to the people who built this house. They must have some kind of rare spatial reasoning problem where they perceive themselves to be the size of at least a sedan, maybe a small aircraft. Also as you can see they only know of the existence of a single color.
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Ok, but if you were eating a single bowl of cereal alone where would you sit? Personally I am a head of the table type person but I understand that others might be more discreet.
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It is undeniable that they put the "great" in great room. You could race bicycles in here. Do roller derby. If you gave this space to three anarchists you would have a functioning bookshop and small press in about a week.
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The island bit is so funny. It's literally so far away it's hard to get them in the same image. It is the most functionally useless space ever. You need to walk half a mile to get from the island to the sink or stove.
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Of course, every McMansion has a room just for television (if not more than one room) and yet this house fails even to execute that in a way that matters. Honestly impressive.
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The rug placement here is physical comedy. Like, they know they messed up.
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Bling had a weird second incarnation in the 2010s HomeGoods scene. Few talk about this.
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Honestly I think they should have scrapped all of this and built a bowling alley or maybe a hockey rink. Basketball court. A space this grand is wasted on sports of the table variety.
You would also think that seeing the rear exterior of this house would help to rationalize how it's planned but:
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Not really.
Anyways, thanks for coming along for another edition of McMansion Hell. I'll be back to regular posting schedule now that the summer is over so keep your eyes peeled for more of the greatest houses to ever exist. Be sure to check the Patreon for today's bonus posts.
Also P.S. - I'm the architecture critic for The Nation now, so check that out, too!
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.
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fairiencarnate · 9 months
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Trying to cope w the fact that my employer said I "might have to go back on job seekers benefit, just in case"
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maxellminidisc · 9 months
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I miss being a songwriter sometimes I really do I just don't know if I'll ever get back to that place though. It was like equally cathartic on a level I don't think I'll ever feel again as it was painful in a way I never want to experience again...
0 notes
runa-falls · 9 months
Note
FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?
a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me
special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol
cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.
wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)
---
miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.
sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.
you're spoiled, really.
miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).
miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.
he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.
he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.
he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.
he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.
you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.
he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.
you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).
you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.
he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.
as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.
it didn't last for long.
you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.
just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.
his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.
he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.
you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.
he doesn't react.
somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.
he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.
it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.
"...baby."
"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.
you huff.
"but--"
"not right now."
you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...
you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).
"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.
you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.
"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.
"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.
he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.
"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.
he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.
his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.
"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.
he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.
you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.
he's so good at this, too good at this.
how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?
you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.
you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.
his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.
his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.
you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.
before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.
"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.
"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."
so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.
but he's hard.
he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.
so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.
you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.
it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.
you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.
he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.
you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.
but he ignores it.
he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).
you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.
it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.
until you arent.
you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.
you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--
your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.
"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.
he says your name once more.
"you're working."
"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"
"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"
"cariño..."
"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.
you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."
well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?
you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.
you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)
he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.
"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"
you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.
he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.
you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.
you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.
he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.
maybe just a few minutes?
LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....
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anonymouspuzzler · 9 months
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HAPPY UPDATE DAY!!! 🏠
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After all this time, all this hard work, I can finally tell you all more about my work on Welcome Home beyond "Dude Just Trust Me I Work On It I Swear" !!
I've been calling myself the "production manager" because a lot of what I've done has been in that realm - making checklists and spreadsheets, doing research, sending emails, and generally keeping our wonderful team on track to do the incredible things they do, with all the support they need! I'm very lucky and grateful to get to support Clown and all the incredible actors and artists we've brought on!!
that said, over the time I've been part of this project (I looked back and realized February 1st this year is when it all Officially Began, can you believe it), I've gotten to work on some more obvious, visible things you'll find on the site today as well! most prominently, I am very proud to say, I was the curator of the very real Welcome Home exhibition!! Clown was extremely generous and supportive in letting me bring his work into the world this way, and with their help it became bigger and better than I ever could have dreamed! Though this iteration was very small and private due to our venue, I hope the few of you I know who attended enjoyed it very much, and for the rest, know we hope to find ways to host the exhibition in other and more public venues in the future! (Where and when, I don't know, but I'll work hard to make it happen...!)
As part of the exhibition, I was able to create a lot of new props to help build the world of Welcome Home! Most excitingly, I was able to create a real working toy telephone, and help Clown to find our talented group of voice actors to provide the recordings! And of course, I was able to meet dear sweet Wally and Home themselves, who were the sweetest little peanuts and a true pair of professionals! Just delights to work with!!
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Though this was my most prominent contribution, somehow, that wasn't all! You will find bits and pieces of my art and writing all over the newest website update (some places more obvious than others...), and I was able to contribute to building many of the new and updated site pages as well! We've all worked so hard on everything you'll find there, so I hope you all enjoy the exciting new additions to the neighborhood!
My final little statement while I have my sweet little soapbox here... every last one of you who has provided support, even just one ko-fi tip, has Directly made this update Possible!! Not only do these tips allow us very literally to pay for supplies, art, voice work and the like, it very directly Supports and Improves the livelihoods of every single person involved!! so if you have the means, and would like to do so, please do consider tipping or subscribing to Clown and/or any of the other artists and actors involved!
And with all that... thank you, neighbors!! And Welcome Home!!
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spectrumgarden · 2 months
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I know I'm shouting into the void with this one but like. Genuinely so many low support needs people dont understand what it's like having even medium support needs. Like I am entirely dependent on other people for many of my needs. I can not see a doctor without someone else scheduling the appointment, taking me there and doing a large amount of the communication for me.
If my caretaker had not been accepting of me being trans and invested hundreds of hours into psych appointments and taking me to my endocrinologist and doing all the paperwork involved with my name change and literally taking a week off work to stay with me in the hospital for surgery etc i would have just like. Never transitioned. My ability to transition was entirely dependent on a singular person and that's what a lot of other parts of my life are like as well. and that's fucking terrifying and a great way to be neglected and abused in ways that are horribly hard to get away from.
I dont drive, I dont work, I struggle to leave the house at all, I dont fucking communicate with people majority of the time. The things that are hard for you? I probably can not do them to begin with. No one in my family lives even close to a comparable life to me. None of my irl friends do. I'm incredibly isolated.
And then I go online and see people rant about how easy MSN and HSN people have it because we just get everything we need and how because people can tell we are disabled everything is so easy because none of you even manage to listen to us talk about the neglect and abuse and trauma we face/d. I see people angry at their (more) disabled siblings for getting care they need to survive instead of mad at society for creating a system where its incredibly hard for families to take care of both a higher support needs child and another child.
And I see people who live completely independent lives who work and drive and make their own doctors appointments and grocery shop and travel by themselves call themselves MSN (I could go on a rant about how that's also often the fault of LSN influencers for not leaving a lot of room in their own community for legitimate struggle but that's for another day).
I just want my needs met. I want to be able to decide where I live. I want choice in my care. I want to be able to have community with those like me. I want others to realize I exist and leave the words i have to describe my existence alone. I want others to listen to what I have to say about what my life is like.
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ave661 · 2 months
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Post about art-theft, AI and tracing of my render:
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Unfortunately, one of my renders I made a year ago, was traced, copied, edited by AI by "brothers in arms" store and now sold as a merch aimed towards CoD fandom. They are currently sending this out to various cosplayers asking them to promote it.
As someone who is affected by this, I have to speak up about it.
(post about it on twt & insta)
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I found out about it by accident when I saw promoted post on my insta feed. When I started talking about it in my stories, this store sent me a private message saying they had been working on this design for weeks and had never heard of me so they definitely didn't steal anything, and offered me free stuff. When I disagreed with them and sent them files comparing our works, they stopped replying to me, so I continued talking about it again on my insta. Only when my followers started leaving comments under their post saying this is wrong, they decided to continue discussion on the next day.
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2. They mentioned that they could have been inspired by some pictures they found on the internet and showed me their "first sketch" of design… which was made by AI.
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3. During the conversation, they mentioned that their artist could have based his work on a picture he found on the Internet, but he defended himself by saying that they might not have known it was mine. But even if they didn't know about me, even if they found some fanart on the Internet - it doesn't mean you can copy something detail by detail and sell it as your own. What is most important here, their offer to solve the problem was to give me credits in their design. IF they worked hard on it, why would they want to give me credits? My offer was to remove it.
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4. Why do I mention that it could have been done by AI? because many lines are unfinished and a lot of details don't make sense.
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5. Below is a comparison of my render that I published on March 18, 2023 with their first sketch they showed me, which apparently they drew themselves:
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I am saying this so that the CoD community, which is very large, will be aware of this, because there are many people who have already bought it and after my insta story, they felt bad and said they want return it because they don't want to support art theft.
It's not just about me anymore - it could have happened to anyone who creates fanart and share it on the Internet just for fun. One day someone may use it for their own profit without us being aware of it. It doesn't matter if it's a 3D render or a drawing. All artists in this (or any other) fandom do not deserve to experience such thing, and we need to speak out about it to prevent it from happening in the future.
Reposting fanart is, as this example shows, dangerous and hurtful, so please respect artists and don’t do this. Especially on pinterest.
Their only proposal and offer to give me credits for the work they traced is something I will never agree to.
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astrobydalia · 2 months
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🪻Lavender Observations🪸
it's pisces season my dudes so here's my fave pisces aesthetic... this music video really spoke to my pisces moon soul so I wanted to pay homage to it. As always enjoy the observations!
work by astrobydalia
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。
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🪻✨Capricorn risings are very full of themselves to be honest. They have an overall pleasant reputation and are loved (Libra 10th+Cancer 7th) but for some reason they're actually very individualistic and conceited deep down, like they think of themselves as being 'on other level' than others. I think this is because their shadow revolves around their ego (Leo 8th house) and we all know they love status but unfortunately fame and popularity tends to change them and/or take out their toxic traits (Scorpio 11th house). Basically they’re the type to become extremely entitled individuals just because they’re successful
🪸✨The virgo placement urge to have a harmeless and innocent personality/reputation while also engaging in the most unholy, taboo and sometimes immoral activities behind the scenes............ iykyk
🪻✨I’ve noticed Geminis are what people think Aquarians are??? Idk Aquarius placements are the most chill and unproblematic people I know and typically don’t make any fuss out of their “quirks” or opinions, they’re just living and vibing them on their own. Geminis on the other hand are the chaotic manic pixie girls/boys or the mad scientists with the most random and out of pocket interests and ideas. They always be leaving me like ‘wtf are you talking about?🤨’ They’re also opinionated af and will jump into controversy pretty easily.
🪸✨Oh! And Geminis are WAAAAAAAAYYY more detached than aquarius dude. Geminis are air AND mutable, for them it is extremely easy to move on and detach from things
🪻✨All the people I've met who's had cosmetic procedures done (botox, plastic surgery, fillers, etc) always had libra placements and/or Neptune aspecting the ASC. Overall Venus and Neptune influence is big in people who wanna look like a glossy instagram filter
🪸✨Chiron in the 6th house are HUGE control freaks due to feeling like reality overwhelms them too much, they feel like their life is never sorted out. They are also the type to overwork themselves with pointless things or hyper fixate on short-term goals cause it gives them a sense of control
🪻✨Capricorn placements are attracted to ambition and independence. It is not so much about age difference that they look for, but rather they like it when someone has their own things going on for themselves and has solid life values that they stick to. Capricorn's love language is supporting your ambitions and you doing the same for them so.... they need to see potential in you and with you
🪸✨Libra+Scorpio placements are VERY envious people and tbh I've seen this in everyone who has this mix regardless of how developed they were.... The type to befriend/get close to people they're secretly jealous of to either ruin them or get a taste of what they have. Seriously these natives are never happy with just themselves they're always focusing on how good others' things are
🪻✨People with fire in their big 3 HATE it and get defensive when other people make unsolicited assumptions about who they are or when people assume they can know the native better than the native knows themselves. It’s hard for them to brush that kind of thing off, they don’t like to feel like people are ‘appropriating’ their identity. The type to be like “you don’t know me or my story so stfu”.
🪸✨All of the Scorpio moons I've met had at least a phase in their life where they had a very unhealthy relationship (scorpio) with food (moon)..... They always seem to turn to food when going through a hard time but in a very self-destructive way
🪻✨Sagittarius is as much of an escapist as pisces. They both crave for things to be good, positive and unserious (Jupiter)
🪸✨I’ve noticed women with personal planets in Aquarius usually have very thin and sparse eyebrows and usually enhance them with makeup
🪻✨Natives with Mars in Capricorn are SUPER hairy. A very thick and stunning head of hair and/or noticeable and abundant body/facial hair. Their hair is usually deep and dark as well
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。
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🪸✨Scorpio Moon men I’ve noticed are attracted to a woman who is a bit cold, mean or is not easy to get to her because it makes him feel like she can handle him and his intensity. They’ll likely commit to a woman that captures his heart in such a way that he knows she can potentially hurt him more than he can hurt her. Deep down they wanna be the softer one in the relationship cause they’re a water moon after all
🪻✨I personally never had any 2nd house synastry relationship that actually involved money (except for business relationships ofc). Instead people who had planets falling in my 2nd house always make me feel like a million bucks frfr 🥺 They made it clear that they valued my opinion, my talents, qualities etc (essentially they valued all I had to offer which is 2nd house themes) and also made me feel like they favored me in many ways, like I'm a part of their top priorities, one of their 'faves' and wouldn't let me go easily. I have to say this turned pretty superficial in some cases on both sides, with 2nd house synastry there's a tendency to think of the person in terms of what they can offer be that money, time, services, advice, skills....
🪸✨That been said, you're more likely to be hired or promoted by people who have their planets in your 2nd house because they value your talent and skills. The best feedbacks I've gotten were mostly from clients who had their planets in my 2nd house
🪻✨Cancer Jupiter gives a very loving and caring husband that will totally adore you and provide for you both emotionally and financially. Husband is bound to be highly emotional and sentimental as well, the type to make it obvious to the world that he is truly in love with you. This is Jupiter's exaltation so this placement really gives Disney's Prince Charming vibes fr
🪸✨I've also noticed Scorpio Jupiter gives a similar kind of husband^ but less Prince Charming and a more 'dark fantasy novel'. This placement is giving Edward Cullen’s “your scent is like a drug to me” vibes when it comes to your husband
🪻✨With debilitated Jupiter (Virgo, Gemini, Capricorn) you might get a husband that is kinda detached and could even be distant or indifferent depending on other aspects or positions. Best case scenario is they love and support you but they are just not good at showing affection for some reason and might provide in more practical/straight forward and less sentimental ways. Again, house position,aspects,degrees, etc will give nuance
🪸✨I find Virgo and Aquarius are so similar in that they’re kinda judgmental of people and also tend to be very detached and analytical
🪻✨A crazy amount of athletes and fitness people have debilitated Mars
🪸✨I've also seen a lot of YouTubers, podcast hosts, etc have Sun-Mercury conjunction which makes a lot of sense lol
🪻✨Moon/Venus in Scorpio/8th house natives have a 'I hate everyone but you' kind of love. They really do have a level of misanthropy in their personality but it's low-key amusing
🪸✨Couples that have this best friends and partners in crime dynamics always have 3rd house synastry, I haven’t really seen 11th house as much… The 3rd house creates a fraternal understanding in a couple, two keen minds thinking alike (Gemini, twins, etc)
🪻✨I’ve actually observed 11th house synastry is pretty messy??? It creates connections (any kind) that are a bit all over the place tbh. You really don’t know if you’re gonna be together forever or fall apart tomorrow. You haven’t talked to each in years now one of you is reaching out like nothing happened and both people are keeping it chill the whole time specially the planet person. I guess this dynamic is okay between friends, colleagues or acquaintances (which is what this house rules) but when it’s a romantic or more intimate relationship…. Like I said it’s just messy, not necessarily bad, it be can refreshing and exciting but it has to be your cup of tea (I assume Air venus/mars people will dig it). You’re always wondering what’s next with this person, it feels like the sky’s the limit. I’ve seen this synastry a lot in couples who make odd decisions in the relationship that make people often question if the couple is actually serious about each other like that or not like being engaged for too long, etc
🪸✨Capricorn moons are extroverted or at least they easily pass as extroverts in social situations. They really stand out to me for having a very defined public persona that they’re mostly known for but they’re not really like that in private at all, you’d be surprised for better or for worse lmao
🪻✨"My love language is all of them" = Leo Venus
🪸✨Virgo placements are just as talkative as Gemini placements, they ramble just as much (Mercury). The difference is Virgo’s speeches are usually more thoughtout and eloquent like a presentation they’ve practiced a hundred times, in fact they tend to talk about the same stuff and repeat the same jokes, themes and rambles in most conversations because they like to stick to what they know (earth). They’re 100% the type to give you an unsolicited lecture on whatever it is they’re interested in. Gemini’s speech on the other hand is usually more spontaneous, random and chaotic, they tend to brainstorm out loud and enjoy finding new ideas in conversations (air). They’re more likely to wonder, play with ideas and ask ‘what if’ questions cause they like to explore the possible connections of different things
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🪻✨Pluto-asc aspects/Pluto in the 1st house/Scorpio rising come across as the cool girl/boy. They always have some unattainable energy to them that people secretly look up to and this admiration often translates into jealousy
🪸✨Aries in the big 3 always have something with their forehead. Either they have a big forehead or they have a sacar there etc
🪻✨Capricorn placements work hard and party HARDER. This results in them having a rather fast-paced life style honestly
🪸✨Istg Virgo Moons got a stick up their ass. In their minds they are judge, jury and executioner and never give people grace or just the benefit of the doubt. I don't doubt they're soft deep down but damn they can be very very stubborn and they can get mean easily.
🪻✨Best Virgo placement imo is Virgo mars, I’ve noticed they tend to channel the best traits of virgo (constructive criticism, self-accountability, collaborative, understanding but know what they don’t tolerate)
🪸✨When I first joined Tumblr I read an observation that said Aphrodite (1388) conjunct Mars creates injuries or scars from beauty products and that is SO true! I have this and I've burnt myself several times with curling irons and laser hair removal gadgets
🪻✨All the people I’ve met who loved country music, country life style and that sort of cowboy aesthetic mostly had Sagittarius placements 🤠🐎 (myself included lmao)
🪸✨People with Virgo+Scorpio placements are the most intimidating people I've ever met. Imagine the nitpickyness of Virgo mixed with the intensity of Scorpio.... yeah... not the best at going easy on others or letting people in. Don't test them, they have a “get away from me you fucking scumbag” energy whenever they’re upset or simply dislike something and are the hardest to please. They are very sensitive deep down tho, very sweet and selfless if they genuinely like you.
🪻✨Sagittarius is the master, teacher, guru and guide so it makes a lot of sense for the Sagittarius Pluto generation to be hung up and obsessed (pluto) with influencers, life coaches, etc (sag)
🪸✨Moon in the 3rd house natives tend to make vey quirky movements and gestures with their mouth/jaw when they speak or they're very expressive with their mouth like they may grimace or pout a lot
🪻✨Cancer Mars men are huge mamas boyzzzz!! The type to be completely dependent on their moms/wives to even fry an egg and provide overall home security. They will marry a dominant woman who is fully or mostly in charge of the house and family stuff
🪸✨Speaking of, men with domicile or exalted mars (Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn Mars) can be huge assholes if underdeveloped. If immature they can channel toxic masculinity since mars feels very comfortable here it could go a bit overboard and give fuckboy vibes. The type to be very controlling, inconsiderate and always feel entitled to sex
🪻✨On the opposite end, men with debilitated mars (Libra, Taurus, Cancer Mars) are super chivalrous and often present themselves as very polite, thoughtful and modest. Very popular among women for sure. They can be players and have huge ego too if not mature but even then their energy is very inviting
🪸✨Fire moons process their feelings by letting things out in the moment as they come either through anger, humor or simply speaking their mind. They can often appear rude when expressing something that they feel very strongly about but they'll always value authenticity above anything else
🪻✨Earth moons process their feelings by creating a course of action. Like they internally make a plan for things they will do in oder to make themselves feel better, fix their issue or fulfill their needs on a long-term/permanent basis. They could develop a whole personal system or life style that caters to their emotional needs
🪸✨As we all know Air Moons process their feelings by rationalizing their emotions. Ironically, this can make them lack some emotional intelligence because they put so much focus on their feelings making sense that they don't allow themselves to feel their feelings and figure out what genuinely feels right for them
🪻✨Water moons process their feelings by fully owning their emotions. They find comfort in the mere validity of their own feelings which is why they often have this tendency to victimize themselves, blame others for their issues and constantly look for sympathy
🪸✨I’ve very very very often seen Sagittarius/Jupiter in 7th house, Sagittarius Groom/Juno/Briede creates age gap with spouse!!! As mentioned, Sagittarius is the master and guide of the zodiac so with the influence of this sign in your marriage you are bound to have a teacher-student dynamic where either one of you has much more life experience specially in relationships
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。
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.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・. 。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・。
work by astrobydalia
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thebibliosphere · 8 months
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I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?
I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.
I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.
We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.
If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.
Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.
They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.
And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.
The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.
So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.
That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.
Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.
They're not.
If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.
Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?
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havensins · 11 months
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may I request a Miguel with praise kink, just soft sex turned rough with some overstimulation and like,, claws and biting from both Miguel and reader :))
ahh i luv miguel </3 (tw. overstim)
i’m gonna preface this by saying; i don’t think miguel is a brat. i think he’s just so new to submission and not used to feeling so out of control that his conflicting emotions present themselves as being bratty or disobedient.
he truly wants to be good for you, but sometimes it’s hard :((( he’s trying to work through that and with how much he trusts you, it isn’t hard at all.
it wouldn’t be hard to notice how well he responds to praise. with the way he’d falter in whatever he’s doing and look to you for more.
even while you’re fucking into him with his thighs spread wide and his head thrown back into the pillows supporting his head, with you draping yourself over him so that you could whisper the filthiest things into his ear… with just a few words of praise, he’s clenching around you so tight & cumming onto his stomach.
and his mind can’t decipher when foggy pleasure that clouds his brain disperses and borders on painful, though he can feel every inch and every vein of you filling him up. he’s moaning out so loudly, his oversensitivity making tears gather at his waterline and threaten to fall.
his hands find your back, claws poking you as clumps of tears fall down his cheeks. “fuck! fuckfuckfuck..” he curses. he whimpers, burying his face into your shoulder as you’re urging him to yet another orgasm.
he makes an unintelligible sound when your teeth sink ever-so-slightly into the skin of his neck, keening and spurting out another load of cum.
“nnngh, too sens- sensitiveee!” he whines, mouth falling open as his warm breath puffs against your shoulder. “you- you got another one for me, fuck! don’t you?” you curse, grinding your hips up into his.
miguel was extremely tight and it didn’t help that your own loads were making the slide easier. the sounds were so fuckin’ sinful, the wet plap of your hips into his only egged you on even more.
you weren’t nearly done with him for the night, though miguel had no objections to any of your plans.
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noearchives · 2 months
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sober me up
(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)
characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.
portgas d. ace
"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”
you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.
“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”
he pauses. “can i?”
fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?
so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.
when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.
“let’s do that again.”
trafalgar d. water law
law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.
he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.
“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”
“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.
“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.
"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.
at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.
"ah, young love." penguin sighs.
sanji
being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.
"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)
the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."
miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"
... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.
though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)
"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.
"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.
sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.
the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.
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