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tvgals · 9 months

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I WANT SOME CAKE, AND IM NOT TALKING THE SWEET .

husband! gojo x black! baker! wife! reader x customer! geto

synopsis — when your best customer comes into your shop, your husband feels the need to share, just so your oh so best customer can see what he’s missing out on.

cw; food play, threesome, jealous gojo, ass eating?? awkward/ nervous geto in a way, semi-public sex, fluff to smut to fluff, my smut writing abilities aren’t the best so bare with me!!

you were in the back of the shop when you heard the bell over your shop door ring, signifying someone was here. “i’ll be there in just a second! take a moment to read over our menu if you’d like!” you call from the back. “ahh, i already know what’d i’d like.” you heard geto call from the counter. geto was one of your most loyal customers. he’d been one of your first clients to come to your shop when it first opened. you were a one man show, baking, icing, commercials, you name it. you met your husband gojo just two years after you’d created the shop, ten years in running and seven years of being married.

you basically ran from your spot in the kitchen to the counter. “geto! i haven’t seen you in a while. where ya’ been at?” you ask, crossing your arms on the counter and leaning forward. “y’know, around. met this girl and i’m talkin’ to her i guess.” geto shrugs, looking at the menu as if he didn’t get the same thing every time. “ooo, i see. are you gonna order or just stare like you don’t get the same thing every time?” you laugh, geto blushing at your bubbly smile. “yeah yeah. you know what i get. i’ll get a cinnamon bun with a glass of strawberry lemonade.” geto whispers, almost embarrassed of what he looks like ordering something so girly.

“comin’ right up.” you smile, walking into your kitchen. your husband walks into the shop with his arms open. “hey!” he smiles, everyone in the shop saying their hellos back. “in the back!” you alert your husband, who was making his way to geto. “hey.” gojo mumbles, picking food out his teeth. “hey. y/n’s in the back making my cinnamon roll.” geto replies, stretching. you stand in the back packing up geto’s cinnamon roll in a styrofoam box. you put his strawberry lemonade in a cup, a cute pink straw to compliment it. you walk to the front, looking at your husband and your best friend standing awkwardly next to each other.

“five twenty six.” you smile, handing geto his treat. geto grabs his wallet and hands you a ten dollar bill. “keep the change. i’ll be back later, yeah?” geto smiles, taking his cinnamon roll and drink and walking out. “see you later!” you wave goodbye, putting the 10 dollars in your cash register. “ain’t he the charmer?” gojo mumbles, walking behind the counter with you. “ah, he’s just generous like that.” you shrug. watching five more customers walk up to the counter.

“hello! i’m y/n, what can i get for you?” you smile, discarding of your old gloves and putting on new ones. gojo watched you as your customers ordered, your bright smile never faltering. “want help?” gojo asks, peering down at you. “i would appreciate it.” you grin, walking to the back. gojo washes his hands and puts on his own pair of gloves. your husband watches as you walk around the kitchen, staring at your ass.

“jesus, baby. might have to close shop early. those shorts look too good on you.” gojo teases, grabbing plates and a few styrofoam boxes to put the food in. “gojo! they can hear you y’know.” you roll your eyes playfully. “oh well, let them hear about how hot my wife is.” gojo snickers, smiling at your playful banter. “being hot won’t get any customers.” you say, putting a batch of cookies in the oven. “oh yes it will..” gojo grins, taking a few cups and straws.

“mhm…” you hum, leaning on the sink while the cookies baked. “y’know that geto guy…” gojo started, sighing. you let out a little laugh, grabbing a cup from gojo’s hand. “what about him?” you ask, watching the ice cubes fall into the cup. “uhhh, what’s his deal? is he dating someone orrrr…” gojo asks, turning to you. you shrug your shoulders and sigh. “yeah, he said he’s talking to this girl. i’m proud of him, actually. he’s been stuck on me for a while. i’m glad he can move on.” you smile. you realize gojo’s face falters a bit, him shifting on the balls of his feet.

“hm.” gojo hums. you open up the oven and take the cookie out with a mitten, hissing at the feeling of the heat through the mittens. “what’s wrong now?” you roll your eyes, looking over at him. “it’s just…he had a crush on you and you’re still friends with him?” gojo asks, his face scrunched up. “i mean, it was a while ago. i’m just glad he found someone else.” you shrug your shoulders, placing a few of the cookies into a plastic bag. “i see.” gojo mutters.

you walk out the kitchen to give your customers their orders, then happily taking them and paying you. “well, that’s the last of the day.” you smile to gojo, who was following behind you. “if you help me clean you can get a present afterwards.” you whisper, rubbing your thighs together. “is that so?” gojo whispers back, leaning over you. “mhm.” you hum, pressing a kiss to his lips. “but firssttt, cleaning.” you grin, handing gojo a broom. he groans and then smiles at you, grabbing your face with one hand to press a kiss to your lips one last time. “alright, ma’am.” gojo says, walking into the main entrance and starts sweeping. you grabbed a pair of gloves and started cleaning your counter and washing a few dishes. once you and gojo were both finished, you both plopped into one of the booths.

“hard day, huh sweetheart?” gojo asks, pulling you closer to him. “very. had more customers than usual lately. might have to start hiring…” you reply, fumbling with the hem of gojo’s shirt. “mmm…i can always help you, baby. i can always take some time off.” gojo suggests, rubbing your thigh. “no, no. your job is more important than mine.” gojo’s face scrunched up at this, a disapproving sigh falling from his lips. “nonsense. i am proud to say that my wife has one of the most successful bakeries in the city.” he smiles, pulling you onto his lap. gojo starts to kiss at your collarbone, looking up at you as your head lolls back in ecstasy.

“‘m gonna take you right here, yeah? is that okay with you?” gojo breathes out against your neck. you let out an airily laugh and a barely audible “yeah” and gojo starts to unbutton your shorts, unzipping them. you help gojo by shimmying out of them, your white lacy panties now soaked. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart.” gojo compliments, reaching around under your shirt to unhook your bra. you watch as gojo starts to take your shirt off, you raising your arms to make it easier. gojo sits you on the table, admiring your body. “my wife is so pretty…” gojo whines to himself, letting his hands roam around your body.

“gojo…” you mewl, arching your back. “i’m right here, baby…” he responds, pressing kisses down your stomach. “t-this isn’t sanitary…” you mumble, seeing gojo let out a chuckle. “it’s alright. we’ll be sure to clean it real good afterwards.” gojo smirked, pulling your panties aside. gojo pressed open mouthed kisses to your cute pussy, his nose nudging your clit. your hand moves to the back of his head, forcing the lower half of his face into your pussy. “that’s it, baby…fuckkk!” you moan,your thighs clenching against his head. gojo patted the inside of your thighs, signaling for you to open your legs. you whined and open up a little bit more, gojo running his hands along your thigh.

your sighs and moans eventually got louder, taking over you and gojo’s ears. which is why neither of you heard he shop door being opened. “y/n, that cinnamon-“ geto was cut off by the sight of you two, his lips pursing together. he lets out a nervous sigh, him feeling blood rush down to his dick. “shit, baby!” you moan, arching your back. “‘m gonna cum!” you warn gojo, your head falling to where the shop door was. geto’s eyes widened, him choking back a gasp. you eventually came with a groan. “shit, gojo…” you laughed, opening your eyes. your eyes widened at the sight of geto. “shit! hey!” you greeted geto in the least flustered way you could muster.

“uhh, i get it’s a bad time, sorry.” geto apologizes, putting his hands up in defense. geto turns on his heel, about to walk out the door before gojo let out a laugh. “stay. i wouldn’t mind sharing.” gojo laughs, looking at you. “would you mind, sweetheart?” you take a few moments, looking at the two men. “not at all…” you smile. “perfect.” gojo picks you up and walks you into the break room, laying you on the pink couch that you put in there. “cmon in, big boy.” gojo coaxes geto into the room. geto can feel his dick straining against his pants, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of you with your tits out and your legs open wide.

geto stalks closer to you, hovering over you and slotting a knee between your legs. “you’re so pretty…” geto whispers, pressing kisses to your lips. gojo smirks and leaves the room, walking into your little kitchen and opening the fridge door. he grabs the whipped cream and shakes it up a bit, putting a dollop in his mouth and walking back to you and geto. gojo places the whipped cream on the side of the couch, geto pulling away when he saw gojo’s feet. geto looks up at him, his breath getting heavier. “jesus. you’re such a dog, aren’t you?” gojo mocks, forcefully moving geto from on top of you and putting you on all fours on the couch.

gojo sits behind you while geto sat in front of you, geto only in his boxers. “hand me that, yeah?” gojo asks, pointing to the whipped cream. geto grabs it and hands it to gojo. he puts a mound of whipped cream on the small of your back. you let out a little “oh” at the feeling. gojo brings a hand down and smears it along your ass, some of it getting between your ass cheeks. “don’t just stare. shove your dick down her throat.” gojo says to geto. geto’s eyes widen and he takes his boxers off, his dick hitting almost above his bellybutton. you look up at geto, arching your back and grabbing his dick with two hands.

gojo is still behind you eating your ass, the whipped cream making it even more sweet. “shit..” you moaned on geto’s dick. he bucked his hips up at the feeling, mumbling out “sorry”’s. geto’s hand tangled into your hair, pushing you down farther onto his dick. you coughed and sputtered a bit, still taking him in your mouth. “ah shit…” gojo mutters, pulling away from your ass to rub your clit a bit. “that’s it…” gojos smiles. geto cums into your mouth with a groan. “mhmmm…” you moan, rolling your eyes back. you pop off of his dick and smile at him, kissing along his abs. “come get a taste, yeah?” gojo asks, looking at geto. gojo and geto switch places. now you and gojo are facing each other with you sitting on geto’s face.

“you’re so pretty, baby.” gojo smiles, pressing kisses to your lips. you hold onto gojo’s thighs while grinding on geto’s face. “thank you, baby…” you moan, kissing him back. the kisses are sloppy and wet, sounding almost identical to the sound of geto eating you out. “oh my god..” geto moaned into your ass, his hands grabbing at your ass cheeks. “m gonna cum again..” you warn geto, grinding even harder. “cum baby.” gojo whispered in your ear. you came with a loud moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. “oh shitttt…” geto moaned from under you. you rode out your high for a minute, letting out pants and whines. gojo picked you up, you wrapping your legs around his waist.

“you can go now. hope you didn’t think i was gonna let you stay.” gojo smirked. geto pursed his lips together, standing up and scurrying out the shop.

“i really wanna know what he thought about the cinnamon roll.”

TAGLIST ; @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @yuckyygutz @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

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this-is-a-name-dont-worry · 3 months

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things that seemed reoccurring this update:

- Meat

- peas

- jelly

- Hibernation

- Eddie's absence

- Acting out a script (Sally mumbling asking if it's her cue and Howdy changing the script of the narrator in Homewarming storybook, characters general interactions with the narrator, different moments in the video, like the Sally and Frank ad break or the song a barely silent night, where the two literally fight over who get to sing, Sally mentions she wrote the lyrics, and Frank says she already has a song. yeah all of these are easy to see as meta goofs in the original material, but it's the fact there's so much of it this update) (of course all this wrap up with the end of the video where Eddie and Frank are obviously acting off script)

- Being alone (Eddie not having any news of anyone and not even seeing anyone outside (which is interesting as the story says that Sally was up in a tree near his home and saw him fret over having nothing to do), Wally saying it's so quiet during Homewarming and it's just he and Home for a while (potentially the show putting out a christmas special and then being on break? can a show do that?), and in the normal website material, the end of "An ode to hibernation", Frank saying "Where all that's left is me", the "me" being a "...me?")

- Welcome Home being used to sell stuff (cigarettes, medicine, eggnog, cereals, and the cookbook lists ingredients that are a specific brand)

(I'm putting under read more my rambling thoughts so you can just reblog the list without having to see them)

so I can't really make sense yet of all the food stuff. Maybe there are cultural elements/expressions I don't know that explains it? But I still find it very interesting how fucking unhinged that cookbook is yet the commercial and the website treat it normally. The cookbook is overall extremely interesting, because some of the recipes seem to actually be written by the characters; Barnaby who only presents you weird hot dog dressings with pictures but no recipe (and all jokes), Frank who lists not just the ingredients but also the material, and overexplain each steps (at least overexplain compared to the other recipes. it's actually interesting to know why you do x or y), and Julie who turns her recipe into a game at the end, and felt a bit harder to follow? anyway.

The cookbook, the Homewarming tradition of hanging a ham in the tree, Santy Claus being said sometimes instead of Santa, the ham for Santa? Once again, the christmas commercials being so casual about some of the weird stuff it says and presents? This almost feels like an alien who only has a blurry grasp of Christmas and what humans enjoy made the cookbook and the live commercial.

Sometimes, Welcome Home feels like it never actually aired and produced things, but we're making it retroactively exist. Something is making it exist. Like a retcon of the universe, "What do you mean you never heard of Welcome Home? No, of course it always existed and was very popular, look at all this old material we find!"

So maybe whatever is making it exist doesn't fully get humans and accidentally creates things that are weird to prove its existence. Like a cookbook that tells you a single pea in a buttered plate is a classic meal, or that of course you give Santa ham on Homewarming! (tbh almost getting an AI weirdness feel)

But in total contrary, in its story, Welcome Home also feels like it always existed, but got somehow completely wiped from people's mind, as something caused its sudden stop, and its characters gained consciousness of what they are and their world. As an existential dread fell on them one after the other, slowly realizing something isn't right. As Eddie felt anxiety and nervousness over no one being there or contacting him, to then having the story acts lightheartedly about it, the narrator saying things have been solved but he doesn't feel it, and suddenly Home is staring at him.

Both "It never existed but the universe is being retcon into it existing" and "it existed but something terrible happened that erased it from peoples mind" seem plausible. If two theories contradict each other, that means there's a third one that needs to be found.

Maybe it existed. Maybe it truly was popular, but something corrupted it, leading to its disappearance. A disappearance so big it stopped to exist. And now the thing that corrupted it is trying to crawl back, make it exist again, but it's making it come back completely off.

Anyway.

Also, I think the show may have been on hold during the Holiday season, "hibernating", and the character who got some self awareness realized that something was off. They're alone because there's nothing new, so no one is there bringing life to the neighborhood.

#welcome home #anyway there is an existential nightmare going on that's for sure #also at one point writing my rambling I thought about metaphor for capitalism #the show gains succes and so there's a push to make money out of it. capitalism is corrupting it until it goes in shambles.#now a few decades later banking on nostalgia to make profit is what big things do #bringing back the thing from your childhood to show it again but it's off because what brought it back is not love for the thing #it's being brought back because of capitalism. the thing that corrupted it in the first place is trying to bring it back.#sorry i still ramble in the tags :x

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sminny-wew · 3 months

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My brain is buzzing over the update oh my fucking christ (SPOILERS AHEAD)

The sudden and sharp juxtaposition between the increasingly-goofy hotdog recipes and "It's a dog! There it is!"

The fucking mug of hot cocoa in the jello mold.....the single pea on a plate...........

The new hidden site and "W"

The WHRP's attempts to "clean up" the site are definitely shady as shit

THE SITE (or at least the homepage) IS WARBLING

The hidden scribbles on some of the artwork!!!

The voice acting!!!!!

THE ANIMATION!!!!! THE ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE-ESQUE ANIMATION!!!!! The cigarette commercial was my favorite like that was ABSOLUTELY a reference to that one Flintstones commercial, close second is the sleep pill commercial

EVERYTHING WITH EDDIE OH MY GOD ATTENTION ALL MAILMEN PLEASE SURVIVE

EDDIE'S DISSOCIATION MAKING FRANK BREAK CHARACTER

I AM ONCE AGAIN GOING FERAL OVER COLOR THEORY

One thing I just cannot get over is how.....violent the holiday segments were. Eddie got so distressed that he swatted stuff off his desk. Frank and Sally got into some kind of altercation during their Homewarming song. It's like, those are moments that would normally be presented as goofy slapstick within the show, but here they almost feel...too real. Uncomfortably real. And I'm eating this shit up. Like ideally I want all of the neighbors to work together and come out of Whatever's About To Happen alive but right now?? The tension??? IT'S DELICIOUS

#welcome home #welcome home spoilers #<- I'm gonna try not to go *too* crazy with reblogging spoilers but any I do will be tagged like that

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epitomereally · 1 year

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Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis by @vukovich

Harry's assignment was simple. Close out Draco Malfoy's missing persons case so he can be declared dead.

But who's making withdrawals from Malfoy's vaults? How is a death omen-turned-Unspeakable involved? Is an organization known as the Moirai to blame?

Harry brushes it off until he can't. Until The Prophet is flooded with sightings of dead people. Until Robards throws himself on his sword. Until Ron turns on his own family. Until Harry scarcely trusts his own reflection in the mirror and trusts the stranger in his bed even less.

Until all that stands between war and peace is Harry, a name plate, a stadium of murderers, and Draco Malfoy.

God save the Ministry.

Vis-a-Vis-a-Vis was one of the most inventive, thrilling, nasty (in the best way), and intriguing fics I read last year and I’m so happy I got to bind a copy for Vuk & myself. I bound this as a part of Renegade’s Binderary 2023 (where we challenge ourselves to make as many books as we can). I specifically focused on some of my favorite fics published in 2022 that I hadn’t already bound :)

Inspired by @lettersbyelise's ask, I’m going to interleave the inspiration & the process in this post! I knew when I was reading Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis that I wanted something graphic and bold and a little bit sinister. My hand-painting skills are not good enough for the super sharp edges I wanted, so I used heat-transfer vinyl for the first time (tysm Rhi, my guru & owner of a cricut). I also couldn’t find a commercial bookcloth that was a bold, bright red, so I made my own from fabric.

I also HAD to have something that only was exposed under camera, which is a central leitmotif (motif? theme? Idk it’s been so long since I took a lit class) of the fic — whatever it is, Harry is always trying to get a photo of the Doppelgänger to expose their identity. There are only two (2) flash-sensitive inks on the internet & I bought the cheaper one. It’s absolutely not perfect - you can see the image of Draco when you tilt the page because, really, the ink is just a reflective white (as Vuk called it, a shiny paint lol) — but I am absolutely delighted with the effect. Also happy to chat via ask or dms about the experimenting I did with the ink if you’re a fellow binder wanting to use it! I also would use a stencil next time to paint, as it turns out painting with basically invisible ink is really hard lmao.

I then really beat this things hidden/unseen theme to death, as I am wont to do. The title page is meant to simulate a flash/spotlight & so only parts of it are illuminated. The chapter headers are a reverse flash in black, while the chapter numbers are hidden/revealed by it (are they hard to read? Yes, absolutely. Am I happy with them anyways? Absolutely, yes). Even my bindery logo is a paparazzi camera for this bind :) the endpapers are spooky eyes WATCHING YOU READ (also kinda leant itself to the Illuminati/hidden conspiracy vibe), as are the scene dividers.

Headbands are just a fun hot pink and candy apple red, because I love that combo, and it’s certainly a bold statement. This is probably the bind I stretched myself most creatively on, as I think my style is naturally softer and more romantic, but I am so pleased with how it came out.

Materials:

Body font: Liberation Serif

Title font: Timonium

Endpapers: Lokta eyes

Bookcloth: handmade from red fabric

Flare brush for chapter headers: Xresch on DeviantArt

Flash-sensitive ink: MaxMax Flash-Sensitive Ink

#my fanbinding #posts i actually wrote #renegade binderary 2023

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glcnpowell · 5 months

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10/365 || sereshace + quiet

Natasha stretches her arms up over her head as she wakes, rolling from her side to her back with a sigh. The comforter’s been drawn up to her chest to keep her warm — with her boys in bed, the blankets are always kicked down to her ankles. Even before she opens her eyes to blink up at the ceiling, she knows Jake and Bradley have already gotten up.

A quick glance to the clock on her nightstand has her sitting up slowly, brushing the sleep out of her eyes and rolling her neck to ease the ache there. Flying a jet for a living is one thing. Flying commercial to head home from her latest deployment is another, an entirely different kind of ache that’ll need more than one night in her own bed.

Their bed.

It’s the first time she’s come home to this — Bradley and Jake all moved in, fully committed in a way they’d only ever talked about for years. Now, though, it’s real. She brushes her teeth at a sink decorated with two other toothbrushes, a jar of Jake’s hair pomade and Bradley’s deodorant.

With most of her belongings still packed up, exhaustion still heavy in her bones, she borrows Bradley’s deodorant and then tugs on one of Jake’s burnt orange sweatshirts. The smell of coffee hits her as she makes her way down the stairs, but the sound of their voices doesn’t register until she’s nearly to the kitchen.

They’re quieter in the mornings than she thought they’d be.

For all the noise they surround themselves with, all the bickering and laughter and life, her boys are better now at settling down. Dialing in. She watches for a moment from the doorway — leans against the frame with a grin on her lips as they manage a maddeningly fluid dance. Jake gets three plates out, one by one to keep the porcelain from clattering too loudly, and sets them on the counter for Bradley to serve up their breakfast.

(His momma’s egg casserole recipe. He makes it every time she comes home.)

Bradley steps around Jake to grab three mugs from their ever-growing collection, his feet silent against the tile and a hand curled around Jake’s hip to keep him still. He’s humming to himself, she thinks, entirely focused on filling two mugs with coffee and one with hot water. Jake drops the teabag into the water just as Bradley reaches to shut the stovetop off, and she’s so focused on their rhythm that she starts a bit at the sound of Bradley’s voice.

“You think she’s awake yet? Or is she still up there snoring loud enough to wake the neighbors?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, grinning. She knows they know she’s here. Jake breathes out a long-suffering sigh, taking their plates and setting them on the table, very clearly pretending not to notice her. “The snoring, Bradshaw. I mean, how am I supposed to keep this pretty face of mine if I can’t get my beauty rest?”

“Guess you’ll just have to let our girl be the prettiest instead, babe,” Bradley says, walking two mugs of coffee to the table.

Jake huffs, setting the third plate on the table and then grabbing his mug of tea. “The sacrifices we’ve got to make. She’s lucky she’s worth it.”

Bradley steps toward the table like he’s going to sit down, but then turns and tugs Natasha into his arms instead, hugging her tight as she laughs. “So worth it. Hey, you. G’morning.”

“Welcome home, darlin’,” Jake greets, kissing her forehead with a grin. “Our boyfriend made breakfast. I seem to remember it bein’ your favorite.”

She tips her head up until Jake gets the hint, leaning down to brush a kiss against her lips. When she pulls back, Bradley’s watching them with a grin, his arms still loosely wrapped around her waist.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in,” she says quietly, squeezing Bradley’s arm. “Missed you.”

Jake’s grin softens. He shares a quick look with Bradley, head tilting, and then Bradley’s smirking. They’ve spoken without saying a damn word and she’s able to see it clearly.

Quieter than she thought they’d be.

Bradley looks down at her, grinning brightly. “You talking to us or the casserole, Tash?”

“The food, obviously,” she insists, twisting Bradley’s nipple though his shirt. He yelps and Jake laughs, the sound quickly turning into an equally high-pitched yelp when she pinches his side. “Outta my way, boys.”

#sereshace #top gun maverick #hangman #rooster #Phoenix #mywriting #daily2024 #reiverreturns #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace

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keelt9 · 1 month

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Chapter 1

Hide And Run

Masterlist

“Ghost rider 1, ghost rider 1.” No matter how hard I tried still my hands seemed to hold a fucking popsicle slipping between them, it supposed I know what to do, but with the sounds inside of the plane combine with the bellowed voice of Riley make all my actions a complet mess.

“Y/N! EJECT.”

“Miss? Are you alright?” The taxi driver asks me as he moves my arm, I open my eyes and realize we are parking in front of my parents house; 19 months and the same nightmare come from time to time.

“Sorry, I’m ok, thanks…” I opened the door not before paying the 15 dollars from the airport to home. I walk through the little garden which my mom built along all these years. She starts it like some kind of stress reliever. She says every deployment or mission from me or my father it’s a new plant in the garden; in my father's case only he and God knows how many missions he had and for me 17 seems a nice number.

“My little butterfly.” My mom said, hugging me in the main door and dad appeared behind her.

“Sky.” The short name for <Skyhook> I get that call sign in the navy, when she splits away, she puts her hand on my cheek, and I smile with my lips pressed.

“It’s nice to have you here.” She says and pulls me inside of the house.

As the rest of the day passed without any uncomfortable talks or strange looks, until we finished the dinner and dad and I were doing the dishes.

“Maybe it is too soon.” The last month was the hardest since the accident and my dad knows that better than anyone; I left the plate in the cabinet, holding it a little bit more than normal.

“Someone returns in less than a month.” I stop but I force myself to continue. “It’s just a simple test, dad, let’s be honest, with the background I have, maybe I'll fail.” He grabs me by the shoulders and looks straight to my eyes.

“Y/N think it a little bit more, ok? Just a couple of weeks more.” I take a deep breath, and nod with my head, honestly that idea has been surrounding my head since the big week was scheduled.

3:46 hours and counting, is the time my watch the same I’ve been pushing my legs to the limit, but my mind is working at 100 per hour, tomorrow my first test begins, the navy just gave me a one more week, quote <We need you in the air, not in the ground.> I shake my head and continue running.

I was so immersed in my own thoughts when the F-18 dived off along with a little scream for the kids in the park that made my heart stop and flashbacks straight like gunshots in my mind.

“Mayday!” My fast breathing, the drops of sweat on my face. “I can’t stabilize…” My hands trying to hold the control, the sounds of the overworking in both engines.

I cover my ears trying to deafen the sounds and when I get to control myself, my watch marks a high rhythm in my heart, the beep helps me to recover, I blink and I see a little girl coming close to me. “Miss, are you alright?” She doesn’t stop liking her ice cream, making me laugh.

“Yeah, don’t worry, go somewhere fresh or your ice cream will melt faster.” My voice just murmured. It’s a hot Saturday and the summer has just begun, she nods and runs to sit on a bench covered by a tree.

I stop the timer and walk to my father’s car parking in front the main gate of the park, from time to time I lift my sight to the sky, I remember the first time I was in a plane, not a commercial plane, not a light aircraft, but a navy plane, the freedom I felt and the power I thought I had.

For the first time in almost 2 years, I realized that this week would change all I’ve work for more than 8 years, what terrifies me it’s know, in this moment I don’t even sure if continue it’s the right choice.

The next morning, I woke up around 5 am; the test begins at 08:00 hours at least I have to be in the base around 07:00, I get ready, and at the moment I get down I see my parents getting ready for breakfast.

“No, it’s not for you.” Dad says before I even complain, they stand up for my test just like they did when I was 6 years old and it was the first day of school.

“I have an important meeting; I must be ready.” He didn’t even lift his eyes from the newspaper, my mother shakes her head and offers me a cup of tea.

“Good morning by the way.” I greeted them, my mother giggled when I subtly pointed out his lack of greeting combined with the awful way of hiding his real intentions.

“SKY! Hi!” Jill screams when I enter the building. I have known Jill Green (Panther) since we entered the training at Top Gun, something you must know about Jill, she is a cheerful girl, in all the extension of the word.

“Hi, Jill. How are you?” She ran so she could walk along with me.

“Missing you, it’s not the same since you’re not here, but I heard you have already scheduled a test, isn't it amazing?” I smile, she always makes me smile.

“Well, let’s find out.”

My feet were tapping intensely when the vice admiral Beau Simpson opened the door and made me enter his office.

“Lieutenant, good to see you, please take a seat.” I obey and sit from time to time I apart my sight from him.

“Well, it’s time, like we already inform you, 1 month of constantly test on the ground and, of course, in the air, after the month, we evaluate you, if you pass, you’ll be deploy in a blink of an eye, if you’re not, well, we have a big problem.” I gulp, he put his hands over the desk. “Sky, you were born to be in the air, one of a kind, just focus…what happened years ago, you must let it go.” I turn my face. “It’s not easy but you’re a strong girl.” With my lack of answer, he stands and takes me to another room.

“The first proof it’s really treating, a psychological one, following for multiple physical ones, strategic, mechanicals and logical.” He stops at the front door and looks straight into my eyes. “Lieutenant, you have been out for more than a year, some tests will pull out the worst and the best from you, what you need to know is, nothing you’ll be going through it’s impossible and you always prove to us that.”

At the end of the first day, all seems to be go a little bit better than expect, with a good mood I was walking to the parking lot where my mother’s car is waiting; she insist at least I should take it for going to the base, she felt more comfortable if she knew I have to be focus to the road instead of the memories been here could bring me back; my steps froze in just a few meter of distance of the entrance, when I see all Dagger Team enter to the building, I meet some of them years ago, with someone I’m really close, but met them right now make my heart beating fast and be really nervous.

I resolve it with the most childish choice, I hide behind the car waiting for them to enter inside the building.

Great star Sky, hide and run.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #fanfic #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction

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gauloiseblue · 2 months

Text

Second Time The Charm

He comes back to the house the next day, still try to knock on the door, but minutes pass and it's still unopened

He wanted to be a proper guest, who goes into the house through the front door, invited, but in this case, he had no choice but to leave the shovel by the door

That is, until the door suddenly opens, and the owner of the house comes out. She seems surprised to see him, and he can't say the feeling's not mutual

"Oh hello…" She greeted, "Didn't expect you'd come."

"I came to return the shovel." He said, "Thought it'd be very rude of me if I leave without saying thank you."

"Don't worry about it."

At this point, he's at a loss for words. She's dismissive, and doesn't hide her indifference. He'd not fancy her much, if she didn't have pretty eyes

He pretends to look at the trees, before attempting to revive the conversation again, "Those are beautiful, you've taken care of them very well."

"It's not me, I have a gardener."

So that's why

"Private gardener?" He asked, knowing that a commercial one would use their own tools, and not the owner's

"Maybe. He's an amateur." She told him

He raises his brow, "It doesn't look like an amateur work."

"Seems like you thought the word amateur as a beginner." She chuckles, "He's an amateur, someone who does it out of love. He loves the garden, that's why they're beautiful."

He looks at her with interest, she seems to have her way with words

She turns her head to him, "I'm going to the farm, you wanna come?"

With a curiosity in mind, he decides to come along

They both talk for a bit, and he soon learns about her and her activities. She likes vinyl records, because the sound quality is different. She cooks her own food, and she likes to bake. She hates hot weather, and bugs. She also talks about the town folks, and how they all are eccentric in their own way

"You know Callum? He's the town's handyman. He likes to collect scraps, to the point his house is full of things other people discarded. You might find your broken plate there if you look around."

"Really?" He hums, "I've met him a few times, he's a nice fellow. Though Claudia and Flores said I should watch my belongings around him."

She rolls her eyes, "I suggest you to take their word with a grain of salt, especially Flores. She's the one who attempts to take one of my lipsticks because I said I never really wore them."

"Oh?" He said, "What happened then?"

"Nothing, I caught her red handed."

"She apologized?"

"Of course not, I told her to leave before she could embarrass herself further."

At the farm, they're greeted by the owner himself. He's an old man with big arms, though he's not too tall

"I see you bring our newcomer here." He said to her before offering his hand to him, "Name's Harris."

"John." He said, "She didn't bring me here, I was the one who went along."

"Consider yourself lucky. She hates strangers."

"Not true. I already liked you when we we first met, Mr. Harris."

"Aw, drop the honorific, will ya?" He chuckles, "Us cowmen are honest, of course you'd trust me. Can't say the same for other people, especially you." He then looks at him, "Y'look like you've served during a war. Navy?"

"Probably worked for the special force in the army." She said, which immediately set his alarm off

"How did you know?" He said as he smiled, keeping his friendly facade

"Your body said it all." She shrugged, "I've met a lot of people, so I developed an intuition for it."

"Special force? Someone who carried out secret missions?" He whistles, "You have a lot to share. Tell you what, I'll keep it a secret, but you gotta tell me what happened during your service. Not the government secret stuff, of course."

She chuckles, "I suggest you, John, keep your past to yourself. The town folks are very curious, so you better keep it close or they'll hound you for stories."

"Roger that."

"I almost forgot, you came for the milk." The man clicked his fingers, "Come, I'll prepare it for you."

The three of them walk inside the farm, where the occasional moos and smell of manure fill the room. They walk until they reach the small room full of gallons, and he opens one of them

"Did you bring your bottles?" She then hands him the basket, which contains 4 bottles. He begins to fill each bottle with fresh milk, before handing them back

He refuses when she tries to pay him, telling her she's done a lot for him already, and sending her out before she can insist. He then waves them both goodbye, telling them to come over and have a tea sometimes

"He's a nice fellow." He commented after offering himself to hold her basket

"He is. He's too nice in fact, that it worries me sometimes." She replied

"He'll be fine. He has good people around him."

"Hope so."

They stay quiet for a while, before deciding to ask her something. "Say, you've met a lot of people before. Did you meet a lot of people like me too?"

"Never, in fact." She replied, "I've met some people from the army—commander, secretary, almost everyone who work in the office, but never one from the field. That's why I assume you're in a special force."

"That easy?" He chuckles

She nods, "Everyone can do that, it's not hard to guess."

"Well, I disagree." He smiles, "I can't figure you out in the same manner."

"You just have to look closely."

"Won't you be uncomfortable with that?"

"I am." She told him, "But I'm used to it."

"Then I won't do it." He said, "I'm not comfortable with prying into people's life."

She seems amused by his answer, "Lying is a sin."

"Scout's honour."

"Alright, do what you want."

They part ways once they reach her front door. He insisted to bring the milk to the kitchen, but she told him it's not necessary. So they exchange pleasantries before he leaves

Halfway through his home, he realized he hadn't learnt her name at all

《 Prev | Next 》

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #captain price #john price x reader #price x reader

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betterbooktitles · 4 months

Text

The single most demoralizing experience I’ve had as an adult living in the 21st Century is applying for a job, not getting it, and then seeing incessant ads for the company on social media apps. I’m trying to waste a little time watching comedy reels or looking at photos of my friends’ kids on Instagram, and now I’m getting reminded that a place didn’t like me enough to hire me but would still love my business. It’s like getting ghosted by a woman after a few great dates, then seeing her in a fast food commercial months later when you’re minding your business, watching football. That’s also happened to me. It bugged me way less than a hiring manager never calling back.

I recently applied to be a social media manager for a wizard-themed restaurant in New York City aimed at — I guess — the rare millennial who feels too classy for Dave & Busters (adult Chuck E. Cheese) but still wants to experience a modicum of childlike wonder by eating in a restaurant that vaguely reminds them of Harry Potter (the Chuck E. Cheese of books). I didn’t get the job — nay — even an interview, but now every other image on my Instagram feed is a bubbling cauldron or a waiter/wizard throwing flames from a wand in front of hot people ignoring a plate of shrimp.

I’ve been out of the dating game for a long while, but from what I’ve learned from my single friends, I imagine the emotions felt while navigating rejection translate neatly into feelings I’ve had during a job search. In both instances, apps shoulder most of the blame. I’ve never used Tinder unless you count the rare but exhilarating moments when my friends allowed me to write their profiles or message a person on their behalf to see how weird I could make the conversation before the potential partner unmatched them. I have used ZipRecruiter though.

ZipRecruiter is a job-hunting website and app like LinkedIn except there’s a real chance you can get a job while using it. You upload your résumé and save a few searches, and soon you’re getting notifications for businesses for which you’d be a “Fair,” Good,” or “Great” match. You can then tap a single button to apply to most jobs after skimming the basic requirements and bullet points asking for a candidate “comfortable working in a fast-paced environment.” (They all say that or “detail-oriented.” It’s like someone in a 90s movie saying they want someone with a “good sense of humor.” Or a dude on Tinder now posting a profile photo holding a fish.) Like videos I’ve seen of men swiping right on every single person to see if anyone was interested, I spend most of my time on Ziprecruiter tapping “apply” while barely looking to see if I am even a “fair” match for the job.

ZipRecruiter also tells you how many times a hiring manager opens your application. When it’s more than three times, you receive an excited email from Phil, ZipRecruiter’s milquetoast AI career advisor with a cartoon face of a bespectacled man who looks annoyingly employed, letting you know that most applicants get an interview after a mere two looks, but three? It’s all but guaranteed. Start picking out your wardrobe for the interview. And then… nothing. Fuck you, Phil. With your perfect hair and your expendable income that you spend on polo shirts. How dare you lead me on like that?

Read the rest on Substack

#funny #essays #writing #amwriting #humor #Dan wilbur #jobs #work #working #reading #deep thoughts

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panie-wanie-dean-bean · 4 months

Text

“Hey you! Yes you! Do you want money? Do you want stability? Do you want to go to hell? Well boy do I have the job for you! Here at Rosey Posey Cafe it is our pleasure to serve a variety of guests magical drinks that you could only dream of!”

“Any human above the age of 18 may apply!”

“You don’t need any experience!”

“I’ll teach you how to read if I have to!”

“If any of this has interested you please call this number and we’ll schedule your interview for as quick as tomorrow! Hope to hear from you!”

You half expect this to be a scam. A weird, furry based scam due to the talking anthro cat from the commercial, but a scam nonetheless. Still, you do need a job, even if it’s fake there’s no harm in trying, right? Right. The start of the number is weird as, well, hell, but that’s to be expected from a hell run business you guess. You’ve yet to really visit hell since the rifts opened up last year but you’ve heard it’s actually pretty nice

You grab your phone from your bedside table and give the weird cat-lady a ring “HELLO!?” Ow, hi, you’re calling to ask about the job position “Oh, my ad worked?!? Yes! So, when can you come down for an interview?”

And the rest is history, well, recent history you guess, seeing as this is your first day. Turns out the cat-man-demon who runs this place was being super legit. Actually, what is his name? “Oh, I don’t think you could pronounce it, but in english I go by Evelyn or Ms. Rose! It’s so so nice to have you as a part of the team!” You’ve heard, repeatedly, ever since she hired you on the spot “Well it never hurts to say something twice!”

Your new boss is more than a bit odd, the whole human sized tabby cat thing aside she’s just, really friendly? To the point it almost seems like she’s fucking with you but…you don’t wanna be rude but there doesn’t seem to be a lot going on behind those eyes. You ask Ms. Rose if your training will start soon “Yes yes yes! Ok, question before we start. Do you know how to read?”

Yes “Perfect! I have a little booklet on how to make all the drinks we serve here. You don’t have to memorize it by any means though, I want this place to have a nice relaxed vibe so there’s no rush. I mean, don’t make a demon wait 10 years for their drink but aside from that you can take your time. Here’s the booklet! There’s rules at the top and two lists below it. One is alphabetical so you can search drinks by name, and the other is based on flavor profile so if someone wants to spice it up a little you can search by the flavors they like”

“If you have any questions you can let me know, but there are a few things I need to show you” He walks me through how to use the Fizzer, which is just a carbonator, the hot plate and sauce pan used for warming, and the blender, each explanation coming with a long warning about how it could interact with my “frail human body” After Ms. Rose finishes telling me about all the tiny pieces I could wind up as if I could somehow fit my entire body into the blender he takes a moment to think

“I’m pretty sure the rest is self explanatory but I’ll be here to chaperone you your whole first day, and never be afraid to ask me for help!” You thank him and ask when the store will open “Hm? It’s been open this whole time!” …Aren’t those open and closed signs supposed to say the opposite of what you are on the back?

“.”

“Fuck” Your boss walks dejectedly to the front door and flips the “we’re open!” side of the sign to face outside “Well, I guess we just opened!” She laughs as she springs back over to stand beside me. While we wait I take a second to really just admire this place, it’s a small cafe but it’s incredibly cozy. There’s a lot of dark wood work and fluffy pillows, even a few blankets in a basket with a “please return after use” sign above an empty one beside it, and the whole place just smells…warm?

You’re knocked out of your thoughts by the front door bell chiming “Hello! How can we-oh, it’s you” Ms. Rose’s voice drops all cheer as she greets…Oh my god, it’s Jean Laurent, why the fuck is your first customer a movie star!?! Jean fucking Laurent saunters up to the counter “Hey Evelyn~” “Laurent” Jean laughs “So cold” his gaze shifts over to you, looking you up and down

“Who’s this?” You feel like a deer in headlights, you were ready to serve weird demons not Whole Ass Human Celebrity Jean Laurent “They’re my new employee, and I’ll thank you not to fuck with them” The venom in your bosses voice snaps you out of your little trance, looking over to him you see that his eyes have strained into small slits and his ears are angled back against his head

Ok! Um, you ask what Mr. Laurent would like, he chuckles “Oh please, there’s no need to be so formal. I’ll have my usual, cutie” You can feel your face betray you as all the blood in your body seems to drain into your cheeks. Ok, focus! He wants his usual? Oh, here we go, Jean’s order. Ew. It doesn’t look good but if that’s what he wants then you guess so

You glance back up at your boss. She really doesn’t seem to like him. Huh, you know you probably shouldn’t but you have a feeling she’d get a kick out of seeing him gag a little bit. You fain a bit of cluelessness as you look through the drinks you could make. A Sucker punch looks like it could get a reaction out of him, it’d probably piss him off though. What should you make him?

#lovely leeches #Evelyn #sdj Jean

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beefrobeefcal · 24 hours

Note

Okay, Beeffriend. Asknado just dropped.

Five Pedro boys walk into your restaurant and ask you for a beef meal. Who are they, and what beef meal suits each of them?

Bonjour, Scout Oona!

ONLY FIVE??? I HAVE TO PICK JUST FIVE?? Okay fine... five it is. Also, what is a beef meal? I'm going to assume it's something I would make. Check out under the cut!

Thanks for the ask, @oonajaeadira!

Yours in sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜

Frankie Morales - Lasagna. Lasagna for days. He can load up his plate and eat the whole damn tray if I want him to he wants to.

Ezra - Hot Wings. I think he'd get a kick out of them trying to figure out what part of the chicken it is... as well as what a chicken is.

Javier Peña - Waffles. Big, fluffy, Belgian waffles. He can put whatever he wants on them but he has to at least look like he's having a good time.

Dieter Bravo - cheese burgers and fries. Yeah, he can afford just about anything, but he's in my house and I'm making burgers. So eat it, Bravo!

Late 1990's Xerox Commercial Pedro - A bowl of stale Lucky Charms.

#pedro scouts #asknado 2024 #pedro scout badges #pedro scouts of tumblr #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #you ask beefro answers #thot tank #you asked beefro answered #🥩

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gripefroot · 8 months

Text

Crooked Ways [11/22]

“Bulma, sweetie, won’t you come eat dinner?”

She didn’t have to wipe any greasy residue from her goggles to know that it was her mother standing in the doorway of the training pod. Despite the hours she’d spent putting more effort into clearing out debris than perhaps it warranted, it was still a mess, jumbled with piles of damaged panels and robot corpses. Bulma returned her attention to the panel she was trying to get off the wall, the scaffolding her dad had helped her bring in creaking dangerously.

“I’ll come eat later,” Bulma called down. It was all the promise she could do.

“It is later, honey. Your father is going to take the leftovers to Vegeta soon and heaven knows there won't be anything left for you then!”

Her stomach flip-flopped like a screw bouncing on the floor before landing with a final spin. Bulma huffed out a breath. It didn’t make the queasy, nervous feeling any better.

“Alright, alright! Let me take down this panel at least.”

“Thank you, sweetie!”

Heaving the busted panel over the scaffolding, Bulma let it fall atop its broken brethren with a deafening series of thuds. She hoisted her goggles atop her head before climbing down. Her knees were sore, her arms were sore, her jaw was sore where she’d clenched her teeth in concentration all day. Picking a path around the debris, she decided to pretend like she didn’t see the unmanaged section where Vegeta’s body had protected both her and the panels beneath them from the robotic onslaught.

She also decided to pretend that reliving those deadly seconds wasn’t morally questionable on every level. Sure, Vegeta had been badly injured, but when he’d pushed her to the floor to shield her; limbs bumping and tangling and his weight descending on her body…the way his hair had tickled her cheeks and his panted, hot breaths had sent shivers from her ear all the way down her spine…

It was later than she realized. Cool night air wrapped her as she trekked across the lawn, grateful to pulled out of that hazy memory before she got inside. The last thing she needed was her parents - or Vegeta - reading what was on her mind as it was written on her flushed face.

Vegeta ought to still be in bed recovering, not attempting to read her mind. Thank goodness.

“Did you make good progress?” Her dad asked from the living room while Bulma scooped her dinner onto a plate.

“Yes,” she called back. “I’ll need help tomorrow clearing the pod before I can put in an order for supplies.”

“Sure.”

“I was thinking that since the pod is a skeleton right now anyway, it might be a good time to move the gravity sensors from the spaceship into there.”

“Oh, now! What an intriguing idea.” The newspaper Dad read nightly audibly crinkled. “I suppose it’ll be less work that way. I’d wait to order paneling until the gravity sensors are in, just in case they take up more space than you expect.”

“Good idea, Dad.”

He chuckled. “I’ve been known to have a few of those.”

Bulma frowned down at her plate, halfway to the rarely used dining table. She didn’t want to watch the soap operas her mother favored (one of which was playing in the living room) but sitting alone felt so…lonely. Her eyes drifted back to the kitchen, where the mounds of leftover food indicated that Vegeta hadn’t had his way with it yet.

“Have either of you seen Vegeta lately?” she called over.

“No, sweetie,” Panchy said while a commercial for a restaurant played loudly. “Didn’t you say he was injured?”

“Yes.”

“No, we haven’t heard him or seen him at all.”

So he hadn’t eaten a meal in who knows how long. Those injuries must be worse than she thought, if he couldn’t even drag himself to satiate his Saiyan hunger. If he was hungry. Oh, gosh. That was even worse.

“I’ll take some food to him,” Bulma said, but neither of her parents heard. Leaving her dinner aside, she rummaged through the kitchen to find a tray. It wouldn’t hold enough for him, but she could take more later. She balanced several dishes on top of each other before lifting it, grunting under the weight and taking measured steps out of the kitchen.

By some miracle she made it to Vegeta’s bedroom without falling over or dropping anything. A few kicks to the door went unanswered, and finally she shimmied to the side to poke the button with her elbow. The door slid open.

“Hello? Didn’t you hear me knocking?”

His bedroom seemed pitch black. If she hadn’t known it was meticulously clean, she’d fear for her life striding across the carpet without visibility. When she got closer to the bed on the far wall, directly beneath a skylight that spread from wall to wall, she heard the covers rustling.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was more sleepy than angry. Adorable.

“I brought you dinner.” Bulma stopped, the dishes clattering slightly. She didn’t dare go further. “Sit up.”

“Unprincipled harpy.” But the rustling increased, and when she peered around the tower of dishes she saw Vegeta sitting upright with a wince, not quite leaning back against a pillow with the blankets bundled around his middle. His face was blueish in the light from above, the distant moon and street lights shining in.

“Generous unprincipled harpy,” Bulma corrected. She laid the tray across his lap, glad that he at least had no injuries there. “How are you feeling?”

Vegeta grunted.

“That bad?”

“I’m fine.”

She knew he wasn’t. She knew it in the purplish bruises around his eyes, the unkept tufts of hair sticking up on his head. He didn’t dive into the food straight away, his lips slightly curled when he saw what was beneath the lids.

So Bulma plopped herself on the bedspread about where his feet were, beaming over at him. “I’ve started cleaning up the training pod,” she informed him. “And I have good news - Dad and I are going to turn it into a gravity chamber using the materials from the spaceship. Since the pod is all busted up anyway, it’s the perfect time for an update.”

Vegeta stared, a single blink indicating that he was even alive.

“Oh! I bet you can’t even see.” She leapt back up to her feet, reaching for the lamp on his bedside table. The warm light made it cozy; he squinted and turned his head away. “Is this my dad’s?” Bulma frowned at the tablet next to the lamp. She’d never known Vegeta to use technology as a hobby before. Mostly he just punched whatever wasn’t working in the training pod.

“Yes,” he said, finally picking up a pair of chopsticks.

“Are you done with it? I can return it to him.”

“If you’re so determined to be a servant, then you may do so.”

Bulma sat herself back down, lips pursed determinedly. Vegeta didn’t look up. “I owe you some credit,” she said, teasing lightly. “Taking care of an invalid is no joke. I can feel my skin growing thicker by the second.”

He cast her a scowl, but it lacked real venom. If human medicine worked on him, now would be the time to dope him up. But they’d already learned it didn’t.

“How long will it take for the training pod to be ready for me?” Vegeta asked at last.

“A few days, as long as the gravity sensors from the spaceship are still in working order. But I don’t remember them being broken, so…”

“I am going to train tomorrow.” He said it like it was no more shocking than opening a drawer to find a dozen pairs of socks within. Utterly dull. Bulma’s mouth fell open.

“You’re a wreck,” she said. “If you train tomorrow, you’ll kill yourself.”

“Oh, please. My organs are all intact. Muscle tears and skin lesions heal extraordinarily fast in my race.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Bulma snapped. He didn’t look at her, but his stoic movements of eating had a brief pause to them. “And don’t say the androids! You’ve said a hundred times you could take them on yourself. If you’re so confident you wouldn’t need to push yourself so hard. So what’s your deal?”

She didn’t really expect him to answer, and he didn’t. He just continued eating, a grim tightness around his mouth.

“Ugh. You can act like you’re doing us a favor by ‘saving the world’ or whatever, but you have a lot to learn. There’s no point in saving a world if it’s not worth living a life there. You’d probably be less miserable if you tried to have a life yourself.”

“I have a life,” Vegeta intoned.

“Eating, sleeping, and destroying your body in training isn’t a life.” Bulma’s hand inched towards his leg beneath the covers, but it twitched, and she pulled back. She wasn't sure what the point of her lecturing was, only that it made her feel better.

“It’s the glory of a Saiyan,” he said.

“Glory is subjective,” she told him. “And you live on Earth, at least for now. There aren’t any Saiyans around to judge your glory. You’re doing it to yourself.”

He took a deep breath, chest rising with the action. “Kakarot - ”

“Shut up about Goku! He doesn’t care about Saiyan glory either.”

“He does, he simply doesn’t understand it,” Vegeta said stubbornly. “His pride and glory are as much part of his DNA as his hair color or his inherent power.”

“Well, Goku isn’t as stupid about training as you are,” Bulma said. It was kind of a lie, but Vegeta wouldn’t know. He only grunted in return, stacking his first few empty dishes with an awkward clatter.

She sighed, leaning back on her hand and gazing up at the skylight. Putting him in this bedroom had been her idea: she’d thought that an alien well-versed in space travel would be comforted by the sight of the moon and stars. Memories of other planets. She hadn’t known Vegeta well back then, only as a villain who was far too cute to be a real villain. But now…now she suspected that any memories he might have wouldn’t be comforting. If his behavior here was any indication, Vegeta wasn’t one to soften and enjoy himself in any situation.

Her eyes drifted back down to him. His thick, pinched brows, the tight veins in his hands as he held a bowl close to his face. Naturally the sight made her want to return to her indulgent thoughts of his body weight on hers, or the kiss they’d shared so recently and how his mouth had devoured her with far more interest than he was giving the rice.

It prickled nicely. Bulma smiled.

“What are you smiling about?” Vegeta asked moodily, not looking up.

“Oh, nothing.”

“So why are you here? Making sure I don’t throw my supper in the trash?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to be capable of such waste.”

He grunted. “I’m not.”

“Exactly.”

Bulma wondered if they were overdo for a conversation. Conversations weren’t exactly their strong point, but after that kiss…they hadn’t exactly had prime opportunities to discuss if they were on the same page. If they both wanted nothing more of it, if they both wanted more. Or, most likely, it would be to clarify that Bulma wanted more and Vegeta wanted nothing at all.

Or maybe…

Maybe he needs to know I want to kiss him more, she thought, his bedspread clutched in her fist as her heart began to pick up its pace. He certainly kissed me like he wanted more. Maybe I wasn’t enthusiastic enough. Maybe it’s a Saiyan thing. That I should initiate next. Show him that I’m interested in…something more.

Before she could lose her nerve, Bulma lifted herself to scoot several inches closer to the head of the bed. Vegeta looked up then, finally acknowledging her with narrowed eyes that made her feel further away than she really was. She licked her lips, taking a deep breath. Her heart didn’t slow.

“What?” Vegeta asked, a tremor of alarm in his voice.

She ignored him, instead cupping his jaw with her hand and leaning in. Dishes rattled, and her lips pressed lightly against his closed ones. The difference between his tenseness now and the raw yielding of their earlier kiss couldn’t be more vast. But Bulma didn’t mind. She only wanted him to know. To be sure, in case he wasn’t.

“I’m glad you’re not hurt worse,” she said, because she could think of nothing else to fill the silence when she pulled back. Vegeta was staring, some of his usual hardness softening at the edges. Something like awe made his black eyes simmer like warm treacle. “Enjoy the rest of your dinner.” Bulma stood, pretending to wipe down the front of her jumpsuit. Hopefully she hadn’t gotten any stains on his bedspread. “If you’re still hungry, someone can bring you more.”

“Not you?”

“I have to eat, too.”

Vegeta blinked. “You mean to say you haven't - ” A threat of temper laced his voice. It would never cease to amuse her; how stern and stoic he behaved to reveal at random times the depth of his caring. That he was indignant that she hadn’t eaten dinner yet!

Bulma laughed as she picked up Dad’s tablet. “See you tomorrow, if only to beat you back into bed to finish healing.” She sent him a wink, which made him blink more.

She could have danced through the hallways back to the kitchen. Despite the aches and pains of her hard work that day, she felt as light as a feather and more beautiful than a garden. Smiling to herself, Bulma hummed, wishing she could bottle up Vegeta’s earthy scent, his taste on her lips.

Pausing in the doorway to ignore the voices from the soap opera, Bulma’s fingers tap-tapped on the tablet. What on earth could Vegeta have used it for? Let alone in the state he was in? Her smile descended into a thoughtful frown, and giving no thought for the massive breach of privacy, she turned on the screen.

He’d been using the internet. Did he even know what the internet was? Her smile returned, opening the search history.

So! Vegeta was seeking an education.

How to please a woman

How to please an earth woman

Do earth women feel pleasure

How to make love to a woman

“Wow.” The stunned whisper fell from her lips before she could stop it. It was endearing that Vegeta insisted on referring to earth women as ‘earth women’, when here, they were simply women. He must have figured it out, though. Her stomach fluttered with nerves that weren’t exactly uncomfortable. Excited, maybe.

Unless Vegeta planned to seduce a different earth woman.

Last of all Bulma saw a notification at the top indicating a download. Perhaps he hadn’t done that on purpose. She clicked on it, intending to delete it and wipe the history before Dad saw it. The picture Vegeta had downloaded almost made her howl - a horrifically, biologically accurate rendition of internal female organs, marking out various points of pleasure.

“Wow, Vegeta,” she muttered to herself, but giggled, too. Her face was hotter than a summer’s day in the glare of the sun. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, is it? Or technology, for that matter. Imagine if my dad found out you were looking at this.”

Bulma didn’t regret snooping, because she was finally, finally sure of a question her heart had been asking for so long.

Vegeta desired her. Even if he didn’t want to, even if it meant nothing to him - he desired her.

#vegebul #bulma x vegeta #dbz #dbz fanfic #dragon ball

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