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#and my mother in law offered to help us too
crxss01 · 9 months
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request ! 😌
i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!
— Mama Love
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.
warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!
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42!miles morales
this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.
at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.
she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.
but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.
that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.
you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.
many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son
“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”
other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.
one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.
you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.
one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.
never complained to either of you again.
his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp
miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.
now, neither of you takes it off.
then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.
you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.
tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.
you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.
she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.
and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.
would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.
“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”
miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.
“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”
yeah, he never yelled at you after that.
or like ever did anything that would hurt you.
miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.
you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.
1610!miles morales
now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.
but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.
it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.
miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.
one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.
tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.
she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.
tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.
one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.
his mom made sure to make things clear for him.
“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.
he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.
after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.
tía morales and you went out a lot.
like going shopping,
buying ice cream,
going to restaurants where miles tagged along.
miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.
he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.
he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.
“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.
yeah, never complained again.
but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.
you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).
she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.
in the end you and tía morales are besties.
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taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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raventreehall · 2 months
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a storm of swords dash simulator
🍋ladyjonquil Follow
i don't want to reveal too much but i had a really great day today hawking and riding and received some really exciting news (and maybe a potential marriage offer!) wow wow wow!!! haven't felt like this in so long 🥰
🤡florianthefool Follow
i'm so happy for you my jonquil
🐦littlefinger Follow
thanks for sharing my lady
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🏹kissedbyfire Follow
PISSED OFF AT MY BF RN 🤬🤬🤬 NEVER TRUST A SOUTHERNER AND ESPECIALLY NEVER TRUST A CROW!!!!!!!
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👸🏼daenerys-targaryen-tracker Follow
🐎raeqqo Follow
by the law of the dothraki she must return to vaes dothrak to take her place alongside the crones of the dosh khaleen. it is known.
🐉3heads Follow
shut up and go sack a defenseless city or something
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🍁weirwoodzz Follow
hey do you guys remember when theon greyjoy took winterfell last year and killed the stark boys? has anyone heard anything else about that? feel like it kind of just disappeared from the news cycle, what happened to greyjoy?
🪓cerwynnation Follow
lord bolton's bastard killed him
🍁weirwoodzz Follow
oh really? wow. kind of extreme but deserved i guess
💗ramsays-sharpest-blade Follow
Ramsay isn't a bastard, King Joffrey legitimized him two months ago and Lord Roose is going to make him castellan of the Dreadfort soon. He loves his son and trusts his abilities. Plus, Ramsay is being awarded for his efforts in saving Winterfell and putting a stop to the ironborn raids in the North by being betrothed to Arya Stark—would a bastard be granted that honor? I don't think so.
Also, Theon isn't dead, Ramsay is (rightfully) flaying him for his crimes in the dungeons beneath the Dreadfort. Gods, I'd love to see Ramsay thrust the knife under his skin!!!!! 😜
#ramsay bolton #house bolton #our blades are sharp #theon greyjoy
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🐐the-goat Follow
i'm boutta come into thome real money real thoon 😈 💎💎💎💎💯
🏰freygirl73 Follow
ughhhh my sister is getting married tmrw and my brothers keep going on about getting revenge on king robb while he's here for the feast... like i just wanted some food :/// iswtg that's the only good thing about my siblings weddings and now they're saying there won't even be any and i'm gonna have to go into hiding before the bedding ceremony or something. why can't my family just be NORMAL
🐟greenfork Follow
TW: Red Wedding, death, violence
A masterpost on what happened at the Twins and what it means for the Northern independence cause, the War of the Five Kings, and the realm in general.
Also a bunch of links on how you can help people affected in the Riverlands.
Keep Reading
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🍵bowlobrown Follow
HELL YEAH BROTHER 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
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🔥heatofdorne Follow
i wanna ***** ********* on ellaria sand's **** and *** ****** then call in oberyn and ***** **** them both until **** *****
🤎pate7534 Follow
🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
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🌊onthesunsetsea Follow
why are there so many crabs on my dash rn
🐺direwolfing Follow
TYWIN LANNISTER IS DEAD 🦀🦀🦀🦀
💙cassssanna Follow
actually i think it's still for king joffrey
🦁lann1sporter Follow
lol i thought it was for robb stark
🥂arborgold Follow
maybe it's for the mountain?
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⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow
DOLOROUS EDD LORD COMMANDER 300 AC
⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow
DOLOROUS EDD WILL LEAD US TO VICTORY AGAINST THE OTHERS
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🕊️ just-a-humble-sparrow Follow
mother have mercy i was walking by the great sept of baelor (i wanted to pay my respects to our blessed king joffrey) but i was blocked by a knight of the kingsguard—i believe it was one of the kettleblacks, unfortunately i always forget which one has been elevated to the kingsguard—because the queen was keeping vigil over her son, so i prayed outside instead. yet only a few minutes passed when i swear i saw the kingslayer arrive (he seemed to be missing a hand!) and enter. then, and this is the most disturbing part, i swear to the father that i heard noises of fornication coming from inside! i know for a fact that the only other person inside was the queen mother. could the rumors be true? i feel dirty even writing this. i wonder if i should tell my septon.
❤️‍🔥stannis-sweep Follow
stannis has literally been telling y'all and you didn't listen 🙄
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🏳️ bannerless Follow
is it just me or is lady stoneheart kinda 👀
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cozage · 11 months
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Responding to “I’m late"
Characters: f reader (gn terms!) x Luffy, Sanji, Shanks, Law
Cw: some pretty major angsty emotions in this. Spoilers for Dressrosa in Law's and WCI in Sanji's. Period talk
Total word count: 1k
--
He walks into your alls room and finds you sitting on the bed. You’re staring at the calendar on the far wall, still as a statue. 
“I’m late,” you whisper to him. 
Luffy
“Late for what?” Luffy isn’t clueless, but vague statements like that go over his head. 
“My period, Luffy!” Your head falls into your hands, but he’s still struggling to fully connect the dots.  
He tilts his head at you. He can tell you’re in distress and that worries him. “Is that normal?” 
“Obviously not,” you growl. “Or else I wouldn’t be telling you that I might be pregnant!”
His eyes widen at that statement, and finally he rushes over to where you’re sitting on the bed. He curses himself for being so oblivious. 
“How late are you?” He asks. There’s a slight urgency in his voice, but he’s trying to keep the panic down. 
“A week and a half!” At that response, Luffy realizes he knows nothing about these kinds of things. “Should we go talk to Chopper?” He offers. He hates being so clueless and he knows he’s not helping much. 
The way you’re looking at him makes him think that was also the wrong response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m doing this all wrong.” He sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulder, leaning you in to him. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know!” You cried, and he rubs your arm soothingly. 
“It’s okay,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We have time to figure it out. And we will.”
Sanji
He should be over the moon. He should be ecstatic. He should be absolutely thrilled. But all he feels is dread. 
He tries to hide it. He really does. But you can see it. Because that’s the first emotion you felt too. 
“Sanji?” You call, trying to snap him out of the daze he’s in. But he’s frozen, just like you were. 
All he can think of is how his mutated genes are now forming a new human. What if it turns out like his brothers? What if it has 20 fingers and 20 toes? What if you get sick like his mother?
“Sanji?” You call again, and this time he snaps out of his spiraling. 
“What do you want to do?” He asks, and you can hear his voice tremble. He pulls out a cigarette and snaps open his lighter. Smoking is always an easy sign that he’s stressed. 
“I don’t know,” you admit. He nods, and comes to sit on the bed with you. 
His eyes look to your stomach, still trying to process it all. “We should go talk to Chopper. He’ll tell us if it’s something we need to worry about not. Maybe it’s just a weird month for you.”
You nod, and he takes your hand and leads you to the infirmary. He has to know, he has to prepare for the possibility. He can’t help but say a silent prayer to the universe on your way there for some kind of miracle. 
Shanks
“I know,” he sighs. “You know?” You stare at him, shocked.
“Of course I know! I know your schedule!” He smiles, and his arm reaches down to take your hand. He pulls you to your feet, and then holds you close to him. 
You rest your head against his chest and take an unsteady breath. “How do you feel?” He asks. 
“Scared,” you say, and you can feel tears prick at your eyes. He hums at your statement, and you to stand there for a moment in silence. 
He starts swaying you back at forth, as if the two of you are dancing without music.
He pulls you back and spins you around, and you laugh at his moves. He smiles when he hears your melody of joy, and you can see him relax a little bit. 
He pulls you back into him, still swaying. “We’ll be at a new island in two days. How about we go to a doctor there and see if we can get some answers. We’ll figure it out together, okay?” 
You nod into his chest. You’re still terrified, but at least you have him by your side. 
Law
He stands there, eyes moving between you and your stomach. “Late?” He questions. But he already knows. 
You ask for Midol and a heating pad at the same time every month. He gives you back massages at the same time every month. But not this month. 
You just nod, still staring at the calendar. He turns on his heels and runs out the door, leaving you alone.
He walks briskly through the hallways, trying to keep his nerves down. But his mind is racing. What if his child develops Amber Lead Disease? What if he passed it on to the baby somehow. It might be out of his system, but that doesn’t mean the lasting effects are gone from the disease. 
He’s also scared for you. He knows how taxing pregnancy is, and being in a submarine isn’t something you should do if you were pregnant. The pressure of the sea floor, the dangers of being a pirate, there were so many risks that came with it all. 
He grabs his sword and creates a room, and quickly shambles back to you. He finds you curled up in the bed crying, and realizes his mistake. 
“Im sorry, y/n-ya,” he whispers, brushing your hair to the side. “I didn’t mean to leave you without saying anything.”
You dry your eyes and look up at him, still sniffling. “I’m scared, Law.”
“Let’s find out how scared we need to be, okay?” He guides your limbs to position you to lay flat on your back, and he holds the sword over you. “Scan.”
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6urin · 1 year
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HIS MOM'S FAVOURITE! (≧◡≦)
Or in other words, Scaramouche resisting (and failing) the urge to fuck you while his mom is in the same house.
contains: f!afab!reader x bf!scara, pussyjob, blowjob, fingering, degradation, praise, bath sex, nipple play, cumshot, cigarette use, breeding
(* ^ ω ^) : minor writing smut !!
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When you revealed your outfit to Scaramouche, like usual, he adored your sense of style. However, there was a little hiccup. "Baby, why'd you have to wear such a skimpy skirt tonight?" He pouts as he tugs at the hem, trying to lower it a bit more in hopes of covering some of your skin.
You give him a glance from over your shoulder and sigh, "It's your fault for telling me we were going to have dinner with your mom in twenty minutes. I was rushing and on top of that, I still had to do my makeup. Why don't you ever tell me these things beforehand?"
The two of you were waiting on the front porch, still recollecting yourselves as Scaramouche's mother took her time in getting the door.
Scaramouche merely narrows his eyes and smiles, "No need to get all whiny; you have plenty more dinners with her in the future to make up for tonight." At what was supposed to be a playful tease made you even more nervous. You smack him with your handbag, whisper-shouting, "Not funny!"
Finally, the door opened. Ei gasps with a smile and pinches Scaramouche's cheek, which results in him swatting her hand away. "It's so great to finally meet my son's girlfriend. I've heard a lot about you, (Name)."
You stifle a surprised noise when you feel Scaramouche's hand harshly groping at your ass. "Ah, it's nice to meet you too, Ms. Raiden," you coyly say, bowing your head. Ei exclaims, "Well, come in! The food will get cold." The second she disappears into the dining room, you give Scaramouche a reprimanding glare.
He simply gives you an innocent smile in return.
Scaramouche walks ahead of you, saying, "Mom, don't tell me you cooked..." Ei hushes his remark while setting out the plates and cutlery. You instantly rush over and offer to help out. Ei clasps her hands, muttering, "Oh, thank you, dear. If it's not too much trouble, could you get the glasses from the cupboard by the fridge?"
Already heading into the kitchen, you nod, "Of course!"
When you get there, you find your snarky boyfriend whistling to himself while leaning against the counter. Scaramouche pushes himself off of it and scoffs, "The way you act like a goody-two-shoes in front of my mom is insane. If only she knew how vulgar you are."
You roll your eyes and reach up to open the cupboard. While grabbing the glasses, it obviously didn't go unnoticed by you when Scaramouche's gaze lingered on your thighs. "As if your mind in the gutter is any better than mine," you say, walking up to him and pressing your chest against his.
Scaramouche's hands attempt to grab your waist but you pull away and laugh as you return to the dining room.
You thought wrong if the sexual tension were to get any better at the dinner table.
You tighten your smile a little more each time you feel his hands grabbing your thighs and playing with the plush skin. It wasn't long before you had to slap it away when he slipped his fingers in between your legs.
Ei places her fingertips together, asking, "Is the food good, dear? I tried to make it taste nice for my future daughter-in-law!" Her joke emits a not so hidden chuckle from Scaramouche and you glare at him. You play along and giggle, "Jokes aside, it does taste amazing, Ms-"
Ei tuts, "Please, call me mom. We can drop the honorifics as you seem to have proven yourself a nice and worthy girl of my son from his endless stories about you." You blush in pride from her comment.
"Ah, why don't you stay the night? It's getting dark out and I'm sure you and Scaramouche can stay in his old bedroom." Ei's suggestion catches you off guard. Scaramouche slyly adds, "Oh, yeah, why don't you, (Name)? I wouldn't want you to go home all alone at this time of day."
You nervously clear your throat and sigh through your nose. "Sure, I don't see why not."
The moment you and Scaramouche got off of Ei's radar, he initiated a heated makeout outside of his bedroom door. The guy must have waited for this all evening. You tightly grip onto his biceps, moaning into the kiss. He pulls away and starts sucking on your neck, making you gasp out.
"W-Wait, Kuni, we should go in your room first..." When you realized your words were doing no good to control the lust driven man, you opened the door to his room and dragged him inside anyways. You fell onto his bed when he got on top of you.
"God, you're such a fucking whore, y'know that? Acting all sweet in front of her, but she just doesn't understand how slutty you actually are." Scaramouche slides your panties down your legs, leaving your skirt on. He licks the damp spot in the fabric, causing you to whine from the lewd action.
You softly breathe out, "Please fuck me, Scara." Scaramouche tosses the undergarment aside and lowers his head to meet your cunt. He presses his calloused thumb against your clit. You throw your head back and moan, balling up the sheets in your fists.
"That food was fucking disgusting, right? Unlike you, I couldn't even eat a spoonful. I need something to get rid of my hunger, don't I?" Scaramouche licks up and down and between your folds, around your clit and finally, into your hole. You buck your hips forward and cry out, "Fuck, that's so good!"
Scaramouche's tongue repeatedly delves in and out, your walls spasming around the slippery pink muscle. He wraps his arms around your thighs to force them open since you keep on closing them from the intense pleasure. He lets out heavy pants and removes his tongue before wrapping his lips around your clit.
Two of his fingers fill the empty space inside of your needy pussy while you arch your back and let out the most lewdest noises. You instantly tense up when you hear knocking at the door.
"(Name), dear, can I come in? I brought you a towel and some old clothes of my son's so you can take a shower."
In a frenzy, you try getting Scaramouche to let you go, however his grip on you was way too strong. You stammer out, "I-I'm a bit occupied right now, can you just-" You stop to suppress a moan when your orgasm finally reaches you. You bite down on your lip, thighs shaking as Scaramouche licks up the remains of your cum.
"Can you just leave it in the bathroom, please?"
Ei curiously raises a brow but hums, "Alright. Do tell me if you have any trouble finding the bathroom itself, or you can just ask Scaramouche. Where did that boy go?..." The sound of her footsteps fade away and you sigh.
You sit up, knitting your brows together with a frown on your lips. "We could have gotten caught; just imagine if she didn't knock." You get off of the bed, on your way to the bathroom when suddenly, his arms wrap around your waist from behind you. "Hey now, it's not fair if you're the only one who gets fun, huh?"
You give him an eyeroll. "I'll deal with you later, just let me take a shower first. You made such a mess in between my legs." You turn around and kiss him, tasting your climax on his tongue. Scaramouche holds the side of your head and you grind your bare cunt against the rough material of his jeans when he highers his knee.
"C'mon, I'll shower with you." The idea he proposes makes your cunt clench. You huff, "Fine."
You suck on the head of his cock, tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear while watching him with half-lidded eyes. Scaramouche grunts, "Don't be such a tease, f-fuck..." His voice trails off and the hot bath water the two of you are in doesn't help his condition.
The salty taste of pre-cum flooded your mouth as you figured from all of the teasing before this.
You close your eyes and finally take his entire length into your mouth, not without a few gagging noises. Scaramouche mutters, "That's it, you little slut. Take it all." His lips hung agape as he released soft groans, his hand clutching the side of the tub while his other hand nestled within your hair.
You let out muffled noises, bobbing your head up and down and running your tongue against every single vein of his cock. Your hands encase around his shaft for stability as you increase the pace. Scaramouche seethes through his clenched teeth, "Your throat is so tight, God, I'm gonna-"
He couldn't even finish his sentence, coming inside of your mouth with a long moan followed by profanities. You slowly pull yourself off of him and the rest of his semen splatters against your tits, now drenched with both water and thick, white substances.
You swallow his load and open your mouth with your tongue lolled out. Scaramouche pushes the back of your head to lean against him, pulling you into a kiss. You rub your pussy onto his toned thighs, whimpering and mewling against his lips. His hand grabs at one of your boobs, playing with the nipple and pinching it.
The water in the bath swishes with the movements and you feel his fingers prod at your entrance. He sinks three digits inside of you and you start gasping. "O-Oh, Scara... mmh, you're so needy tonight, ngh~" You start jerking off his cock that got hard again, easily slipping your hand up and down with the help of the water.
When you cum on his hand from him rapidly pumping his fingers inside you, you tightly squeeze his dick, letting him release his sperm onto the soft skin of your stomach. "You better be ready for tonight, I'm going to fuck you full... going to fuck your cute cunt and watch you squirt, yeah?"
"Then you better not disappoint."
But it's Scaramouche you're talking about. He never disappoints you in bed, ever.
He knew that you knew what you were in for, entering his room only wearing his shirt and your panties. Your tits poke through the flimsy fabric, the rest of your skin on display for him to see. "Well, aren't you going to fuck me instead of smoking those cigs all night?"
You join him on the bed and Scaramouche removes the blunt. He holds your chin and presses his lips against yours, letting the toxic air trap itself into your mouth. Scaramouche chuckles, "And you said I was needy." He places himself on top of you and you meekly spread your legs for him.
He tucks his bottom lip beneath his teeth and pulls down your panties, your strings of fluid sticking to the fabric. Scaramouche gulps, wanting to eat you out again but his cock needed you more. It's easy to plunge inside of you with one thrust and how wet you are for him.
You moan out as he starts rutting into you at a fast pace. Scaramouche groans, tightly holding your hips for leverage and fucking his cock in and out of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder.
You gasp and whine by his ear, emitting a moan from him. "Jus' love it when you make those adorable sounds, baby. F-Fuck, you like that?" Scaramouche chuckles when he feels you tighten around him. You nod, "U-Uh-huh, mngh! G-God, honey, more, please,"
Scaramouche mutters under his breath, "As you wish." He slides his cock in and out of you, making sure to leave you writhing and squirming in his hold. Your pussy releases the most vulgar noises, squelching and tightening each time his dick fucks into your womb.
The head repeatedly smashes into your cervix, causing tears of both pain and pleasure to spring to your eyes. "Oh, don't stop, Kuni! I'm so close!" You arch your back and push your clothed tits onto his bare chest, making sure to grind up against him. Scaramouche hisses in pleasure, feeling your hard nipples atop his.
You dig your nails into his back, your breaths and moans getting louder and faster. You squeal, "Oh, my God! Fuck, fuck, Kuni!" Scaramouche seals your cute noises with a messy kiss, drool seeping from his mouth and yours.
The slapping of his balls against your clit gets faster before he finally cums inside of you. You orgasm at the same time, letting out shaky sighs and mewls. Scaramouche moans, "Mmh, baby," He lays you onto the bed and continues to kiss you, all the while keeping his cock snug inside of your walls.
His cum pours from your cunt as he pulls out, but he's quick to scoop it up and finger it back inside you. You, who's still sensitive from the intense climax, clutch onto his wrist, whimpering, "K-Kuni, don't-" You're cut off with your own moan, his fingers curling inside of you.
"Gotta keep it in there, sweetheart. My mom's always telling me how her grandkids would look beautiful when you end up being my wife," Scaramouche playfully bites on your lower lip and you huff. "When? It's a promise now and you better keep it," you say, burying your hand in his hair.
Scaramouche chuckles and slides his hand up your shirt to fondle your breast while his other hand continues to pump his fingers in your soaked pussy. You quietly whine, resting your head on the pillows. He lays next to you while touching your body up, his gaze admiring your lewd expressions.
You gradually fall asleep to him fucking the energy out of you with his fingers still inside of your sopping cunt. When he notices you're unconscious, Scaramouche removes his hand from your chest and pulls up your shirt. He peppers kisses all over your plush skin before wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples.
He bites and sucks on the bud and finally takes his fingers out of you to fidget with your other nipple. You rub your thighs together in your sleep, gasping and putting one of your hands in his hair. You tightly grip a fistful of his cerulean locks, awakening from your short slumber.
With sleepy looking eyes, you release a soft moan. Scaramouche looks at you and his gaze is absolutely glazed over with a new-found lust. He releases his lips from your nipple with a string of saliva and licks on the areola around the mound. "Ready for the next round?"
Suddenly, Ei's voice calls from the room next to his.
"Scaramouche, I didn't raise you to be a horndog! Go take out the garbage!"
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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
Text
Sod’s Law
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: For some reason bad luck followed you everywhere but it did lead to something special happening. Warnings: bad language WC: 871
F1 Masterlist
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The fundamental principle of Sod’s Law states: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That statement could not have been more true than the day you met Lando.
Montréal 2023
“That is what happens when you choose the cheapest hotel. Honestly, you should have just stayed with us.”
You pulled the phone away from your ear just to glare at it, not that Hayley could see the daggers you were mentally sending her. Huffing indignantly, you tucked the device back between your shoulder and ear.
“It took all my savings just to get here, I couldn’t exactly afford the Four fucking Seasons.”
“It’s a Best Western, thank you very much,” she replied with an equal level of sass. “You really did have a bad sleep, didn’t you?”
“To have a bad sleep requires actually getting to sleep. I’ll call you when I get to the track, I’m almost at the bus stop now.”
“Alright, stay safe, love you.”
“You too-oomph,” you slammed into a figure that had rushed out of the actual Four Seasons hotel and fell down on your ass, wearing the coffee that was meant to perk you up.
“Un-fucking-believable. This is just perfect.” You were ranting as you shook your hands free of the hot liquid scalding them but you didn’t care, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t see you there,” a British man apologised and you looked up from the brown mess that was once your white shirt.
Your jaw dropped as you saw who it was holding his hand out to help you up. You might as well have been a fish for how you looked, opening and closing your mouth without being able to actually formulate words. “Uh. You, your Lando.”
“And you are?” he asked as he wiggled his fingers for you to take.
The many spoonfuls of sugar in the coffee had left a sticky residue on your hand and he wrinkled his nose at the feeling when he pulled you to your feet. “I’m sorry.”
“Was my fault,” he shrugged, wiping his hand on his jeans.
“Trust me, it wasn’t. I have the worst luck in the world. My luck is so bad that when my mother went to smudge me with sage, she singed my hair.”
His brows pinched together in confusion. “I don’t know what that means but I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“My shirt would say otherwise,” you said with a sigh, knowing there wasn’t enough time to return to the hotel and change. If you did that then you would miss the bus and with your luck it would snowball until you missed the entire race.
“I feel terrible for ruining your outfit,” he said sincerely and looked to the man accompanying him who just nodded. “How about you come with us and I can get you some McLaren merch? It’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You desperately wanted to accept his offer but you feared what would happen. “Bad things happen around me and I would really like to see you win.”
Lando laughed and placed a hand on your back as he guided you to a SUV that a valet had brought around. “I don’t believe that.”
“We’ll see who’s laughing, just wait.”
“I’m not unsportsmanlike, I don’t understand it.”
You winced as you watched the post-race interview from McLaren’s hospitality and slunk deeper into your seat. You felt like an imposter with the VIP paddock pass hanging around your neck but thankfully no one really paid you any mind.
As promised, Lando had found you a papaya orange shirt and hoodie to change into before going to do his own thing. He’d said he would see you later but you still weren’t sure if it was in the literal sense or just a casual goodbye. So you ended up loitering around just in case.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Lando said as he fell heavily into the empty seat beside you.
Your head fell and you fidgeted with a bracelet on your wrist as you tried to hold back the tears of embarrassment welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I did warn you.”
“Hey,” he whispered softly, his finger curling under your chin to lift it back up. “I’m joking.”
“I’m not. It’s been like this my whole life. If something can go wrong, rest assured it will.”
Lando rose to his feet and held his hand out. You sighed quietly and started to pull the VIP pass as he came to his senses but he laughed and shook his head. “Your hand.”
You were beyond confused as you placed your palm in his and let him pull you to your feet. “Why?”
“Your luck is about to change, and I’m going to prove it.”
You chewed your lip hesitantly but eventually nodded, earning a warm smile that lit up his face. “But nothing dangerous. I’m not risking a parachute malfunction or engine failure.”
He held up his little finger and wiggled it. “Pinky promise.”
You hooked your finger with his and felt a spark flicker to life within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope after all.
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itsphoenix0724 · 7 months
Text
Promises Pt 2 (Rhysand x Reader)
Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from. But, you can certainly try.
Part 1
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Hi loves! Thank you for all the love on Promises! I'm so so happy everyone liked it, and I got a lot of really positive feedback and interactions! Here is the awaited part 2! I hope you all enjoy where I've decided to take it and the ending! As always constructive criticism is welcome!
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You found Mor when you arrived at Athelwood. You had reached out to her mind to mind and she came right away. You spent an hour crying collapsed in her arms cursing the world, the mother, the cauldron, and your husband.
You didn’t leave your bed for another two weeks.
Mor tried to convince you to eat, but you rejected the offer every time. All you did was stare grimly between the gap in the curtains. 
Mate. One word, four letters. Who knew such a small word could rip your heart to shreds?  
You couldn’t stop replaying your argument with Rhys over and over. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” and “It's just more complicated” rattled against the walls of your brain like a twisted symphony. You could only shut your eyes and turn away from the dying sun to try to drown out the noise. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The Night Court was in absolute shambles. It had only been a few weeks, but Rhys quickly realized how greatly the absence of his queen was felt across the entire territory.
After his return from Amarantha’s rule, you had shouldered the majority of the workload to give him time to recover. Theoretically, it made sense. He was out of practice and you had been ruling the court for 49 years by yourself. However, he was just now realizing how out of practice he was.
Rhys had never been a particularly good diplomat.
He was a good leader and a fantastic battle strategist, but he needed more patience for paperwork and meetings.
You always did say he could win a war before he understood the workings of city planning.
Now, there was a pile of letters on his desk asking him when the services the Queen had usually provided were going to resume.
He didn’t realize how much you did daily. How much improvement you made over almost 50 years of ruling by yourself.
You had established a grief counseling service for the war, there was a refugee center you helped run for Illyrian women who needed shelter, and you and Cassian even made biweekly visits to almost all of the Illyrian Camps to ensure they were upholding the new laws about wing clipping. You were even fielding talks with Keir in the Court of Nightmares.
You always did hate the way Rhys chose to handle that.
It was the way his father had taught him and his grandfather had taught his father, and even though you hated Keir, you hated seeing the rest of the court punished.
You had established an exchange program of sorts. Apparently, you had allowed a select few merchants to come to Velaris almost monthly to sell their goods, and you had a group of 20 children that would come attend schools in the City of Starlight. The work kept piling up, he had so many letters marked urgent on his desk that he was starting to go cross-eyed.
The only thing that he could think of was that he failed you. He failed his court, and there was nothing but deep unsettling loneliness clawing its way through his ribcage and straight into his heart. The only thing he had been trying to do was reach you. He had been trying to talk to you through your mind but he was met with cool obsidian walls banning him from entry. 
Then, there was the matter of the unanswered mating bond pulling in his chest. 
He never wanted Feyre. At least not in the same way he wanted you.
He never intended to accept the bond, but he wanted to help her. She had brought him back to his family. To his Queen. He refused to let her waste away in Spring. He thought he could use the mating bond as an excuse to get her away from Tamlin, and once she was settled he could break it off and set her free.
He had made the stupid mistake of not being honest with you in the first place.
He didn’t want you to scent the mating bond and get the wrong idea, so he stayed away for the week until he could finalize his plan.
Instead, he made the mistake of not telling you and it seemed like he was having an affair.
It had been a fair assumption to make, given his piss-poor excuse for an explanation, but the thought of being with another person made him sick to his stomach. Running his fingers over the band of your ring he knew he had to fix this. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You distantly felt Mor sit down on the bed. A soft caring hand brushes through your hair as she calls your name softly. You turn, and blink up at her with weary eyes.
She sends you a sad tight-lipped smile before telling you why she disturbed your hibernation. 
“We need your help.” She says it so softly you almost don’t hear her, “Please. The Court is running itself into the ground. Your people need you,” she pauses again like she doesn’t know if she should say what comes next. “Rhys needs you.” You bury your head back into the pillow and allow yourself to relish in the darkness a minute longer. 
“Winnow us to the House, and then give me an hour.” Mor’s face lights up with a blazing victory as she reaches out to grab your hands, and then deposits you in the Oueen Suite at the house of wind.
You flinch at the bright light and want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and wallow in the crushing sadness. 
But you are Queen of the Night Court, and you made an oath to your people before anything else.
You refuse to let them be punished for the mistakes of their stupid High Lord.
The House had run you a bath, and you sink into the boiling water trying to scrub away the remains of the previous two weeks. Once you’re done you sit down at the vanity in your room and go through the motions. You brush your hair, apply some makeup, and put on all the pieces of jewelry that mean the most to you like armor.
It feels like you’re suiting up for battle to go see your husband. The floor-length black slip you chose might as well have been made of steel.    
You do your best to pointedly ignore your bare ring finger. 
You stare at the crown you never quite thought you were worthy of. Of course, the cauldron would make Feyre Rhys’s Mate. She was the curse-breaker and Rhys was the most powerful High Lord in history. 
What were you?
You push the negative thoughts away and rest the crown on your head. You need to focus on your people. They were the important factor here. You stand up and find Mor in the hall, She looks over you with immense approval before winnowing you down to Velaris.
You walk around the city before you face Rhys at the townhouse.
You visit your favorite bakery, you visit all of your charities, and you walk along the Sidra greeting the townspeople as you pass. It fills you with renewed vigor as they greet you with their warm smiles. It makes you feel like you deserve to be here. 
This is your city, nothing can take you from it. 
The door to the townhouse opens for you, and the first thing you smell is the stench of old wine. You wander through the house and find that Rhys hasn’t moved any of the things you made in the kitchen before you left. You found Rhys leaning over his desk. He must be out of it because he doesn’t hear your approach.
He looks tense, the muscles in his back are as taught as a bowstring. His hair looks run-through and ragged even from behind, and you bet if he turned around there would be dark purple half-moons under his eyes.
You clear your throat and Rhy’s head shoots around to look at you. You’re expecting anger, regret, and maybe even resentment to reflect in his eyes. The only thing you see looking back at you is palpable remorse. He pushes back from his desk so hard that his chair knocks over. He rushes over to you and looks like he’s going to wrap you in his arms, but he drops them at the last second. Rhy is staring at you like he doesn’t believe you’re real and his violet eyes have taken on a glassy tint. 
“Hi,” you mumble carefully, not quite sure if you’ll spook him into triggering another argument. You not knowing how to act around your husband is an unpleasant foreign feeling. Rhys clears his throat and lets out a teary sort of laugh
“Hello my darling,” he tries to smile and fiddles with his hands in a way that is so uncharacteristically like Rhysand it makes your heart lurch for him in your chest. “I’m assuming there’s a lot you want to talk to me about.” You nod and Rhys casts his eyes downward before he nods at you in encouragement. 
“Do you want a divorce?”  It’s the first thing you blurt out, but you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. You have to know, you need to know before you can continue on further. If Rhysand was going to rip out your heart again you’d rather him just get it over with already. Instead, he looks up at you with the most alarmed look on his face you’ve ever seen, and he reaches out to grab your hands in his.
He opens his mouth and then closes it again before he drops to his knees before you. 
“No love, I do not want a divorce. I never want to be separated from you ever again,” He presses kisses into your knuckles “Please, let me explain myself.” He looks up at you in permission and you give a subtle tip of your head. “I never wanted Feyre. Ever. I only needed the mating bond to help save her. I was always going to reject the bond after she was safe.” You hesitate, and he can see the trepidation in your eyes. “Please believe me,” Silver lined the bottom of his violet eyes
“But why,” your voice cracked, and the sobs you’ve held in through you’re entire time apart came rushing out of your chest like hot lava. “The cauldron gave you a mate that matches your power. I’m just me. I’m nothing.” Rhys rises from his knees and holds your face in his hands.
Claiming and steady so he can soothe your sobs. 
“Damn the cauldron. I love you to the end of this earth, and the next earth beyond it. I made mistakes, and I handled this situation completely the wrong way. I am so sorry Darling. I am lost without you, when you’re not here I am missing half my heart. Please, come home.” Another sob bubbles up from your throat and your husband pulls you against him, rubbing soothing circles into your back and apologies into the crook of your neck. Once you both calmed down he pulls back from you and offers you your ring. The sight almost makes another sob bubble in your throat. “Well? Could you forgive me?” 
You nod and Rhy’s whole body almost sags in relief at your words as he slips the sapphire back onto your finger. It’s like a void in your soul has been filled.
You and Rhys certainly still have a lot to talk about and a lot to work on, but you know you’ll do it together.
Just like you always have. 
“So, I heard the Court is falling to pieces without me?” You look back at Rhys’s desk in question and he sends you a guilty look in return. He scoops you up in his arms, despite your shout of protest, and starts walking you toward your shared bedroom. 
“Love you don’t even know how lost I am without you, but we can get to that after I’m done thoroughly apologizing to my Queen.” His voice sends a shiver of dark promise down your spine, and you have the settled feeling in your stomach that everything will turn out just fine.
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lemonlover1110 · 10 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 4] Sayo's Insistence
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Excuse me.” Sayo says, making you look up at her. You hold back on rolling your eyes, far too busy and tired to deal with anyone. You wait for her to speak, but she takes too long for your liking, so you end up asking,
“Can I help you?” You ask, trying your best to hide the annoyance in your voice but it still reflects. She luckily doesn’t notice it, or doesn’t care enough to address it. You don’t mean to be rude to her but so much is going on and you have no idea how to deal with it.
“I want to go out this weekend and get to know my husband’s friends a little more… Would you care to join us?” She offers, and you end up sighing before a fake smile appears on your lips. You end up shaking your head.
“I’m sorry, I’m quite busy on weekends. Your mother-in-law keeps me busy.” You answer, and you hope that’s enough to keep her off your back. But it isn’t. She still stands at your desk and she ponders your responses for a moment.
“I’ll talk to her.” She responds, and before you insist that she shouldn’t, that you’re not in the mood to go out. If you get a day off, you’ll spend time with your son, certainly not with Satoru and his wife. You know that you’ll get a message from Mrs. Gojo later, and she’ll give you the day off. 
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“Mommy…” Ren taps your face to wake you up. His morning breath hits your nose. You scrunch your nose while your hand goes to cover his mouth as your eyes slowly open. You finally take your hand off his mouth when you sit up. You look at the clock that’s in the corner of your nightstand, and you’re definitely not late for anything. In fact, you don’t have to start getting ready yet. You have around three hours to go. 
“What’s up, baby?” You ask him, your hand going to his soft white hair and caressing it.
“I’m hungry.” He informs you as a yawn leaves your lips. It causes him to yawn as well and you chuckle. You stand up from the bed and begin to walk to the bathroom. He begins to follow, which is something that you quickly got used to. The moment Ren began to walk, he followed you everywhere which meant you no longer had any sort of privacy.
“Brush your teeth.” You tell him pointing at the little stool that’s in front of the sink, which was put there to help him reach the sink. The tip of his tongue sticks out as he remembers to follow every step of what you’ve taught him: wet the brush, apply some toothpaste, wet the brush again, then smile as he brushes his teeth.
When you’re done, you wash your hands and when you finish washing your hands, he’s done brushing his teeth. He steps off the stool and patiently waits for you, sitting on the bathroom floor as you brush your teeth and quickly wash your face. You dry your face with a towel and then walk out the door, not saying anything because Ren just follows behind.
“What do you want to eat, Ren?” You ask him as you walk to the kitchen. You have more than enough time to make a big breakfast, so you can give him whatever he asks for.
“Waffles… and yogurt.” He answers. So you’ll give him that for breakfast, along with some fruit. You open the fridge to grab a cup of yogurt for him, so he can eat it while you prepare the rest of his breakfast. You give him a strawberry yogurt with a blue plastic spoon while you begin to make the rest of his breakfast.
“Do you want to do something fun this weekend, honey? I’m off this weekend.” You inform your son, and he puts a finger to his chin, pouting his lips. He begins to brainstorm what he wants to do instead of eating his breakfast. While he thinks about it, you try to think of how you’ll deal with Mrs. Gojo, Satoru, and Sayo. Mrs. Gojo didn’t give you the weekend off out of her goodwill; you’re not sure if the woman knows of that word.
“Can we go to the park?” He asks and you hum in response. He smiles brightly before he realizes something… He doesn’t know when it’ll all happen. “When’s the weekend?”
“In three days, Ren.” You respond, and after hearing the answer, he continues eating his yogurt. As you make the waffle mix, you hear your phone ring from the bedroom. You look at the boy who puts his spoon and yogurt down to run to the bedroom and grab your phone for you. You chuckle at the amazing helper that the world gave you. The phone stops ringing, and you assume that he picked it up, and it’s confirmed when you hear,
“Hello?... Hi grammy!... Mommy’s in the kitchen… Yes.” And then he comes running out of the room, holding your phone, yelling, “Mommy, grammy is on the phone.!”
You take the phone from him and bring it up to your ear. You roll your eyes when you hear her voice. “I need you to pick up some dry cleaning as soon as possible. I’m giving you the weekend off so I need you to come early these next two days.”
“Alright, Mrs. Gojo. I’ll be there as soon as Ren’s nanny gets here.” You answer before hanging up on her. You’re sure you’ll get an earful from her for hanging up instead of waiting for her to do so, but you don’t care. You call Ren’s nanny and inform her of the change of plans, and of course she replies quickly because two days ago she showed up late to her job; she has to make sure it never happens again. She’ll be there in around twenty minutes. “Okay, baby, I’ll have to leave soon.”
“What about my waffle?” He asks.
“Of course I’ll make you your waffle, honey. I can’t leave you without your desired breakfast.”
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You walked through the Gojo estate’s front door, a frown on your face since your breakfast was cut short by Mrs. Gojo. You hate to admit the fact that you put in a little more effort this morning dressing up: putting on a little more makeup, wearing cuter heels and putting on your cutest work outfit. 
After seeing Satoru and Sayo two days ago, you knew you wouldn’t bump into them again. You know Satoru is too much of a coward to go to your floor. Mrs. Gojo also had lessened your workload for her, and you completed everything during your lunch break, coming around at a time that you knew Satoru wouldn’t be around. But you’re certain that he’s here right now.
He’s probably in the backyard, eating breakfast with his mother and wife on the patio, just like when he was a kid. You remember always watching from a window as Satoru was forced each morning to eat breakfast with his mother and father– He always complained to you about it because he had to follow a bunch of dumb rules about eating properly.
You walk to the kitchen of the house, planning to leave the dry cleaning with one of the maids before leaving. You dressed up pretty just in case you saw Satoru, however, you don’t plan on interacting with him. And just as you’re about to hand the dress to someone, she says,
“Mrs. Gojo wants you to go to the backyard. She wants to talk to you.”
“Alright.” You shut your eyes for a moment before walking away. A sigh leaves your lips, and your nerves grow with each step you take. You try to think of what you’re going to say. You quickly spot them when you step outside, and you freeze. You squint as you look at their direction as you try to figure out if the extra person that sits with them is the same man that was Satoru’s best friend for years.
He yells your name and stands up to hug you when you get closer, and a small smile, one that you try to suppress, comes to your lips when you feel Suguru’s arms wrap around you. Suguru was always so sweet to you, and it’s nice to see him again after so many years; and his demeanor hasn’t changed either which you love. He asks, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“I’m good. How about you? Are you a doctor now?” You respond, and he nods in response. You stare at each other for a moment, looking at how time and age has changed you. Mrs. Gojo clears her throat a minute later.
“Suguru is finishing his residency soon. That’s what he told us.” Sayo speaks up, and Suguru takes a seat again. “Please take a seat as well. I asked my mother-in-law to invite you.”
“I already had breakfast, sorry.” You lie. You’re hungry but you don’t want to sit down with them and eat. “I should get–”
“It’s way too early to go to the office.” Mrs. Gojo cuts you off. You glare at her for a short moment before your eyes fall on Suguru because you don’t want to look at anyone else. 
“You know what they say, Mrs. Gojo, the early bird gets the worm.” You respond. Sayo, Suguru and Mrs. Gojo stare at you while Satoru tries to look somewhere else. He makes it painfully obvious that something has happened between you two but thankfully his wife is so focused on other trivial matters to notice just how awkward he is.
“There’s no worm for you to catch here. Join us.” She says and it’s an order even though she tries to disguise it as a request. You have no option but to sit at the table. “Are you joining Satoru and his friends this weekend?”
“I’m busy.” You answer. The past couple of days you’ve realized that you somewhat have part of the upper hand. If Satoru finds out that his son was hidden per his mother’s request, he’ll definitely cut her off. However, you know you aren’t in full control. You still have to follow Mrs. Gojo’s orders, but you don’t have to act like you’re happy to do it. You can give her some attitude.
“Really? I gave you the weekend off.” She points out.
“Ren needs attention.” You respond, and Suguru’s eyebrows raise.
“Who’s Ren?” Suguru interrupts.
“A cat.” You answer, and Mrs. Gojo is thankful about the fact that you spoke up first because she was about to call him a dog. Suguru is still a bit confused but he ends up nodding.
“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to your cat, but it’d be really fun if you’d join us.” Suguru says, and Sayo is quick to agree.
“I really want to see all of my husband’s childhood friends. I really want you to join us.” Sayo sounds so sweet, and she’s making it impossible for you to dislike her. “Isn’t that right, Satoru?”
“Right…” Satoru is forced to speak up and agree. He actually speaks more, which takes you by surprise, “We’re just going out to dinner and after we’re going to a club. You can join us only to eat… Of course, we’re paying for everything.”
The last sentence stings. He’s insinuating that you can’t afford it, and he probably isn’t wrong but you hate it.
“She’s going, honey. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Gojo puts on a fake smile, her hand wrapping around your arm and squeezing. You don’t understand why she insists, having you go out with Satoru and his wife increases the possibility of them finding out the truth.
You want to say a couple of things, but you know it won’t end well. You end up sighing, before you stand up from your seat, “I have to go now.”
“Why doesn’t she like you? Weren’t you two friends?” Sayo half-whispers when you walk away. Satoru ends up shrugging while Suguru chuckles after hearing the question. She sees Suguru laugh and she asks, “Do you know?”
“No idea.” Suguru responds. After a moment of incredible awkwardness, Satoru clears his throat.
“Let’s change the topic.”
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Sharing is caring (George Russell)
A long weekend with the Russells
Note: english is not my first language. I know this is very very very overdue, but hopefully it's still enjoyable!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: pregnancy
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Are you guys doing well back there?", you asked the kids as George drove the four of you up to his parents' house. According to the screen display, you still had a little over an hour until you arrived at George's parents house where you would be staying for the long weekend to enjoy some family time before the season picked up again.
"Does anyone need a bathroom break?", George asked, looking at Olivia and Arthur through the rear view mirror, "I'm fine", Olivia chirped in, "me too, I'm okay", Arthur added.
"You're doing okay, too?", George asked you, hand on your thigh as he drove, "I'm fine. I never want to say it too loud, but I think morning sickness stopped two weeks ago", you added.
"Little one has had enough causing raucous", George whispered, turning his attention back to the road ahead.
"We're nearly there, right, daddy?", Arthur asked as he recognised the streets as the car approached his grandparents' house, "yes, we just turn here and at the end there", George replied as you texted your mother in-law, letting her know to open the big gate so no one had to get out of the car.
"Guys, you're here! Did you have a good trip?", Allison welcomed you into the house, hugging the kids who immediately ran and hugged her legs, "grandma!!", they excitedly said.
"We did, it was fine. There was a little traffic at the end, but we were so close I think it barely bothered us", you said as you greeted Steve, walking inside the house and making sure the kids left their shoes by the door.
"I'm going to take the bags upstairs", George said, kissing your forehead, "I'll be right back", he smiled as you ushered Olivia and Arthur to the bathroom, "Y/N, here, darling, our some slippers on!", Allison offered.
Since Allison and Steve lived on their own again, as every child had now fled the nest, they updated the bedrooms, you and George staying in the guest bedroom with a double bed and the kids occupying the room they had for whenever the grandchildren stayed over.
"Lunch is ready, so when you can come down, we're waiting for you", George's mother called him as he helped you sort out the room for your children, "we'll be down in a little, thanks!".
After eating and helping tidying the kitchen, George took the kids out to the garden, hoping to use up their energy since they spent the whole morning inside a car.
"Is the swing alright, dad?", George questioned, "yes, me and Benjy sorted it out a few weeks ago. It's good as new", he answered, prompting George to take the kids to the renovated swing set.
When he was younger, he didn't spend too much time at home since racing required him to spend a lot of time away, but the times he did spend back home were filled with memories os this swing.
"Is this the old swing you told us about?", Arthur said, unsure of the whole apparatus since he heard stories from when his father and his uncle and aunt were much younger.
"Yes, me and uncle Benjy used to spend a lot of time here with auntie Cara, too! Who wants to go first?", he said as Olivia volunteered.
"It's safe, Arthur, see?", she said as she balanced her body back and forth, making her brother feel a little more comfortable with the whole thing, "I'll share it with you later, okay?".
"Sharing is important", George began, "and the fact that you guys always share is very nice, me and mummy are very proud of you", he said as Arthur picked some flowers from the grass and gave some to Olivia.
"We're siblings, of course we share everything", Arthur said naturally. It was true. For him, even if Olivia picked on his buttons a few times, he wouldn't ever not want to share something with her.
"Would you want to share your things with somebody else?", George tried as the kiss both looked at him like they didn't know what he was on about, "what I means is, would you mind having to share your things with someone else?", he clarified.
The pregnancy news were still between you and George, excluding your doctor. Because the kids could easily spill the news to somebody else and you had been specially careful so the news would stay between the people you wanted to until the doctor considered it was okay.
"I always share with my friends, too. But yesterday I had all the grapes mummy cut up for me because they were really good and I really wanted them", Arthur admitted as Olivia quirked a brow, "I think we could, yes. Even our toys, we share them too", Olivia added.
George seemed satisfied enough with the answers, hoping that when you broke the news they wouldn't have a complete meltdown.
"C'mon, Liv, it's Arthur's turn", George requested gently, the girl hopping off so her brother could have a go.
"What is mummy doing?", your son asked, "she was helping grandma with tonight's dinner when I asked if she wanted to come with us", George offered.
When they arrived back in time to have a quick shower and get ready for family dinner, you and George dressed them in comfortable clothes since it was just close family. Once they started arriving, the kids found their spot on the floor of the living room, playing with toys and colouring books while the adults caught up with eachother.
"Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long!", Cara said as she came up to you for a hug, "we've been busy, but we managed to sort some time out to come up here", you smiled, offering her the little pastries you had been working on with your mother in-law, "these are delicious!".
Excusing yourself from the group, you went to check on the kids, sitting on the sofa and getting a few cuddles from your nieces and nephews, "auntie Y/N!", one of them gasped, "you almost fell asleep while I was showing you my drawing", he said as Arthur snickered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you can show me again, please", you offered, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.
"Darling, do you want some wine? We found your favourite in the shops the other day, Steve bought a couple of bottles", your mother in-law smiled as she stretched her arm to receive your glass when you were all in the dining room, "I don't, thank you for thinking of me, though", you smiled, exchanging a look with George that wasn't missed by his sister.
"I saw that!", Cara pointed out, "what was that?!", she questioned her brother, knowing he would break under her stare.
"Y/N has something to tell you", he quickly offered, passing the ball to your court as you felt everyone's eyes on you.
"This is not how it was supposed to go, but there wasn't a proper plan either, so... we are having a baby!", you announced, unfolding your leggings and letting your small baby bump show.
"Oh my goodness, another baby!", Allison cooed as your children looked at George for confirmation, "you're going to have a little brother, guys!", he said as they ran to hug you baby bump.
"I noticed your tummy was bigger, but I just thought you had a big lunch!", Arthur said, delighting everyone as they laughed, George watching everyone congratulate you before also congratulating him, "congratulations, darling", his mother kissed his cheek.
"We've been a little more careful this time around, did all the tests and in the blood test, the doctor told us were having a little boy", you smiled, kissing the top of your kids' heads as they latched onto your sides.
"Well, we can celebrate with the wine still! Some juice for you, Y/N", Steve poured in your cup.
When it came to bedtime, the kids didn't want to sleep in a separate room from you, and since the bed was big enough, you allowed them to sleep with you and George.
"That's what I'm saying, guys. It doesn't mean mummy is sick, but it means she needs our help more, she won't be able to do all things at once and it's our job to make sure she rests, as well", you heard your husband tell the kids while you brushed your teeth in the en suite bathroom.
"Time for sleep, kids", you said, lying down on the mattress, you and George brushing each of their hairs as they switched off, almost like a button, "they used up all their energy today", George began, "Did you know these two were wondering how they could help you, because they were worried that you are tired. You even fell asleep on the sofa..!", George tried his best to mimick his nephew shocked expression, earning one of your beautiful laughs.
"I love them so much", you sighed, "and I love you", you kissed his lips.
Kissing your forehead, George's hand managed to reach your bump despite the little boy latching on you like a koala and your daughter lying on top of him, drawing random shapes on it, "not as much as I love all of you".
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wake up call
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Sometimes you only really cherish things when they're taken away from you.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, Hurt and comfort, JKs dad, major injury, angst, comfort, fluff
Length: 4.3k words
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It's pitch-black when you wake up, and it takes you a moment to realize that it's simply your eyes needing to adjust to the lack of light.
You instantly sit up in Jungkook's main resting spot, only to realize he's missing- instead standing at the main control screen, tapping away with his eyes reflecting the light of the screen in front of him. At a call of his name however, his face snaps towards you, the alien hybrid instantly walking towards you to cover your shoulders with a heavy blanket, before he sits down in the nest with you, clearly in a fight-or-flight state. "What's wrong?" You ask, and your sleepy voice and clearly drowsy state make him feel awfully protective over you-
and that's only partially due to his whole hormonal fiasco going on.
"We're passing a re-fueling station." He tells you, hushed and low in tone. "But the scanners show way too many ships in the area, so I'm trying to move us around." He offers as an explanation, unknowingly sitting closer to you, hands searching for any sort of physical contact with you before he just throws his pride out the window and moves to have you sit on his lap instead.
"Maybe it's just crowded?" You wonder, unsure why this is worrying him so much. But he shakes his head.
"Something's off." He simply denies, eyes focused on the large windows in the front of the ship, offering a wide view of whatever's going on in front and frontal sides- one of those windows being the one you're currently sleeping at. "I don't trust this." He shakes his head, arms slowly wrapping around you as he waits for the autopilot to steer the ship safely past the refueling station.
"Maybe it's.. you know?" You wonder, looking up at him- but he shakes his head.
"I'm.. I would've-" He sighs. "No one can really help me with my instincts because I am.. currently the only human-Bolku hybrid around, so not even Jin's mother can really.. help me understand what's going on with me." He shrugs, holding you in a relaxed, but almost clingy way. "I've simply decided to just.. take your words to heart, you could say." He tells you.
"What do you mean?" You ask, leaning into him a bit as the screen blinks with something- Jungkook looking once, before he puts his attention back onto you, apparently not alarmed by whatever message just popped up.
"You said the only life I can control is mine." He reminds you. "So I'll just.. let whatever I'm feeling run it's course, and learn to control my life instead of trying to just.. hiding in a vacuum." He explains, large ship coming into view in the distance, a few other's as well in close proximity. This catches Jungkook's attention, as he moves his body into a straighter position to properly catch a glance at the ID parts of the ships- required by law. It's typically a flag of the respective planet or organization, combined with a letter-number Identification, similar to a license plate back on earth.
And suddenly, Jungkook tenses up, eyes focused solely on one particular ship it seems like, as it passes by slowly. You're not sure what's wrong, when there's another warning tone, this time making Jungkook growl a little to himself as he gets up to walk towards the control console, tapping away.
He's scanning everything back and forth before he curses, slamming his hands onto the control board, jaw clenched, before he puts some different commands in, ship shifting, starting to steer in a very specific manner that makes the generators underneath your floor rumble in a new rhythm.
"I thought we were skipping this one?" You wonder, but Jungkook grimly shakes his head.
"We can't." He sighs. "I tend to forget that.. this ship is so old." He mumbles, clearly upset.
"It'll be fine." You try and reassure- and he looks at you for a good moment, before he grimly nods to himself.
Hoping that'll be the case.
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Jungkook is usually very much at ease when it comes to situations like these. He clearly knows his way around and is aware of how to act and what not to do in certain situations- year long experience giving him the necessary confidence to properly keep his job going.
But this time, he's on edge- never letting you out of sight, and even having checked multiple times before leaving the ship that the tracker on your new collar works perfectly just in case. He's also made you wear some of his clothes- says it's got something to do with other alien species' staying away from you if you smell like him, and in your eyes, it makes sense. Maybe his whole hormone-issue is just making him a little overprotective.
You understand that, somewhat. And you have to admit that his clothes are very comfortable to wear.
But something you also notice, for the first time, is what he's warned you about in your room, days ago. How everyone who knows his father will look at you with a certain sense of judgement- and this time, it seems like almost everyone seems to know him, because the looks are everywhere. It doesn't bother you too much- but you can feel with the way Jungkook's hand tightens around yours that it does affect him.
"Can we go eat something while the ship refuels?" You wonder, tugging on his hand to gain his attention, trying to pull his mind away from the admittedly tense atmosphere around you. He nods after a moment, nodding towards the employees currently attaching the giant tubes to the ship, before he walks away and towards the food section, numerous different small restaurants cooking quickly for customers sitting and standing close by.
"What do you want to eat?" He asks you, who's already scanning the pictures as best as you can- still not very good at deciphering the intergalactic standard writing. You should really learn it sooner rather than later- it's got to be annoying to read everything to you, after all.
"Uh.. can I eat this?" You ask him, pointing to a specific food covered in crispy fried dough- not because he pays for it, but because he also knows what humans can and can't eat.
Now this fact makes finally sense to you- because as someone who's partially human, Jungkook has to look out for certain foods as to not upset his stomach. For you, the consequences are much more severe, however, so he instead walks up to the counter to ask, just to make sure. The man behind, an alien with scars all over his face as if burned at some point, looks down at you, then at him, before he scoffs.
"She ain't gonna die from it." He says, but Jungkook is clearly not satisfied with an answer like that.
"I asked if it's safe to consume, not if she's gonna die from it." He challenges almost annoyed, a few close standing customers already clearly interested in the small scene.
"And I told you what I know. I don't usually have to feed 'em." The man replies, slamming down his large cleaver into the wooden counter in front of him, cutting a piece of meat in half.
"She can eat it just fine." A voice chimes up, deep and a little scratchy- and multiple things happen all at once.
First, people start to make room, averting their gazes as if an accident just occurred, and someone blasted their guts all over the place.
Almost at the same time, Jungkook pulls you close to him, shielding you in a way from whomever just talked behind you, body hiding you away like he needs to protect you from something.
And then, you poke your head around a little, catching a glimpse of the man.
He's clearly a Bolku with his tall build, even a good hand or two taller than Jungkook, body bulky and muscular, though the face shows the time this man has been alive. There's horns on his head curving backwards, and his eyes are what's the most prominent about him- small, halfway opened, but sharp in their gaze and a deep orange-y red, the color of pure confidence.
A shiver runs down your spine when you realize the small similarities you recognize however. This has to be Jungkook's father.
"Make two servings. I'll pay." The man orders, and the cook eagerly occupies himself with his job to flee the scene, quietly preparing the food. "Snatched a taste of human love, haven't you?" He laughs to himself, now having caught you peeking around Jungkook's arm, his eyes staring you down so much that you can feel your skin crawl.
"We're leaving." Jungkook mumbles to you over his shoulder, hand holding yours as his father chuckles lowly.
"Already? Your ship is barely halfway fueled." He says, sitting down at a table. "And the poor little thing must be hungry too. Aren't you?" He adresses you, but Jungkook hisses back towards you.
"Don't talk to him." He commands, and you nod, before you lean up towards him to speak closer into his ear.
"I'm not that hungry." You reassure him, and he nods, moving to walk away with you-
when suddenly, out of nowhere, someone tugs you away from Jungkook's hand, collar being pulled so roughly it causes you to violently cough from your throat being pushed together forcefully.
Jungkook shouts, but he's held back as well- whoever has you in their grip is bringing you closer to Jungkook's father, who inspects you from his sitting position. "Pretty thing." He comments, using his cane to tap at your thighs. "Healthy body. I wouldn't be able to resist either." He jokes, making who you assume to be his crewmembers laugh while you hold onto the front of your collar to help yourself breathe. "Ah, your mother needed one of those too. They always try and run off, don't they?" He comments, making Jungkook struggle.
You've never seen Jungkook's eyes shine in such a violent shade of red- almost as if his eyes are going to spout flames any second.
"I assume she's not for sale?" He wonders towards his son, who spits onto the ground right in front of his father's shoes, probably as a non-verbal answer. "Figured." The man says, pulling back his boot before he looks at you. "I'll be taking her anyways."
"She's registered under my name!" Jungkook argues. "I'll be sending out a patrol the minute you have to leave-" He argues, and his father laughs loudly.
"Your name means nothing in this system!" He barks back. "You have no worth, you bastard. Be happy I'll let you leave once your trash-pile of a ship is refueled." He warns.
You're starting to become tired fighting against the strong hold of whomever got their hands on you- causing your to breath harder and harder, oxygen not reaching your brain as well, causing you to become dizzy- and it's something Jungkook notices, because of course he does.
And another thing he realizes is that he knows you're in distress long before he spots the blinking red light of your collar, signaling something wrong with your vital signs.
And before you can do anything else, the edges of your eyesight begin to darken like a vignette filter, Jungkook's terrified gaze the only thing you can make out before you pass out, becoming limp in the hands of whoever is holding you.
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You're glaring at the man in front of you, refusing to eat anything that's offered.
He's already needed a large patch on his hand to cover up the aggressive bite you placed there hours prior after he tried to touch you- but he's intelligent enough to not try it again, it seems like. He thinks you're easy prey, probably- and that's what you used to be, and what you would've been if he'd been the one to find you back then.
But you belong to Jungkook- and Jungkook made you want to fight for your life, just to get back to him.
"Do you even know who he is?" The man in front of you speaks, trying to intimidate you with his gaze, but, for some reason you're not sure of, it doesn't work. "He'll abandon you the moment he finds a proper partner to mate with." He scoffs, and you just keep staring at him.
You don't believe anything this man is spewing- in fact, you're not even properly listening, rather trying to think hard of a way to escape this ship- entire layout foreign to you, since you didn't wake up until you were already on the ship. The only thing you know is that the entire interior intimidates you with it's perfect polished metal walls- something about Jungkook's old and somewhat worn down rooms and halls just makes you feel at home.
Or maybe it just feels like that because you fell in love on this ship.
So the minute you're left alone again after he insults you in Bolku language you don't understand, your brain is running at lightspeed.
Vents are out of reach, but maybe if you could push some of the furniture you could reach it- but someone might hear, and catch you in the act, making this whole plan incredibly dangerous. It's risk against reward after all- you're no use to anyone if you're dead. So you look around once more, checking out everything-
when you spot another vent, small but definitely in better reach than anything else. And the best thing is that once you're in there, there's no way anybody can reach out or crawl in behind you. The only issue?
You don't know where it leads. And from looking over Jungkook's shoulder at the general layout of his ship, you know that some vents lead straight into machines- and you're honestly not ready to be boiled alive.
Your decision however falls onto all or nothing- so you undo your collar at the emergency clip Jungkook had shown you, in case they're tracking you that way, before you crawl under the bed where the vent is, cover easy to remove as you crawl inside. It's tight, not much room and definitely not enough space to turn around now, as you move slowly, having left your shoes behind so that your socked feet don't make too much sound.
On the way, you can spot some vents you have to crawl over slowly, showing you numerous rooms of the ship. A kitchen, another prep room it looks like, multiple storage spaces, and then-
bright lights, clearly leading outside.
You crawl faster the moment you hear machines starting, finally able to see the drop-
and it's not only high up, but right next to a small engine that's clearly about to start if the radiating heat and slowly glowing metal were anything to go by. So either way- you're gonna get cooked alive, or you'll break your spine falling down.
You've got nothing to lose.
Safe to say you do end up cracking something- but the adrenaline is enough to push you through the pain, legs running faster than you ever thought you could as you make your way through the ship station, searching frantically for anything familiar so you can find your way back to Jungkook. If his father stayed true to his word, he would be allowed to leave- and you don't know how long you were out for, so you might already be too late.
Or would he wait for you?
You're searching around frantically when you can spot the familiar ship- large cargo door slowly closing, metal wall lifting, as you shout Jungkook's name as loud as you can- even though you just know he probably can't hear you.
You don't know how you manage even after tripping painfully so, but you reach the lifting cargo door just in time to jump up and lift yourself in-
when you feel warms in the back of your shoulder, something almost crawling down your back, the same feeling in another spot lower on your back, and in the back and front of your leg. It takes a good moment for you to slowly calm down, ship's door closing behind you, as the engines start, before you realize what's happening.
You've been shot by some sort of weapon, multiple times. And the feeling of something crawling, was simply your own blood.
It's ironic how you find yourself seeking at least some sort of warmth yet again under the blue plastic tarp- similar to how you first snuck onto this ship. But the tables have turned- and now, it seems like you'll find your end here too, between all the cargo and dust and by now familiar scents and sounds.
It could be worse.
Just like the first time, the large metal door hisses as it opens loudly, and once again just like the first time, you hear boots on the floor. But this time, you're not scared- this time you know who it is, and you find comfort in that.
Tarps are lifted. Cargo is inspected.
And then, the dark blue one you're hiding under is pulled back- but this time, he's not holding a gun, or a grim expression, or anything alike.
This time, he drops harshly to his knees as he pulls you close to him, holding you, uncaring of your blood staining his clothes.
This time, he wants you to stay.
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He's got you in his nest, while he steers the ship angrily, intercom blasting the sound of his father trying to get through his mind. But Jungkook is filled with nothing but rage and that need to finally break free from the shackles this man had put him in all his life.
"I saw her drop, kid." He laughs. "Stop trying to chase ghosts, you'll kill yourself too trying to move that thing any faster!" He jokes, spits at the old ship Jungkook has owned for years now. But what he doesn't know, is that sometimes, newer isn't better. Because this is a ship build during the third interstellar war-
this thing is meant to last.
And withstand.
So Jungkook lifts his face, eyes locking with the one's of his father moments before he lets it happen-
ramming right into the smaller jet ship painted white, causing sure damage to his own ship- but it's clear that whatever happened to his own, is nothing compared to the large gashes and dents in the exterior, communication cutting off as he watches the smaller white ship slowly lose engine after engine, fuel leaking without any gravity into the galaxy, fires burning out, until everything is quiet-
the wreck left behind him, just like his past.
Jungkook doesn't even check if the autopilot is really properly working- he only cares for you now, who's still breathing shallowly in the nest he slept in with you before, bandages already letting your blood seep through. He's not trained enough in human health to properly help you- he's unequipped as well, which just makes this all the more worse.
He can't help you. No matter how bad he wants to.
All he can do is wipe the sweat off your forehead before he holds you close again, curling up around your body, trying to hide you away from everything. When he heard you call, it felt odd- like a sound only in his thoughts, not clear, but definitely present. He didn't know at first what had happened- only when the security check signed to him that something was wrong in the cargo room down in the bowel of the spaceship did he check-
finding you yet again, just like the first time.
But this time, he's holding you in fear. He's not sure if he can even do anything if he reaches a destination- human health is something not everyone has enough knowledge in, and even if that's the case, the chances of finding a still practicing doctor for you are slim to none at the moment.
It's so horribly unfair.
He finally accepted not only himself but you- and now he's gonna have to watch you leave after all, the world taking yet another thing away from him, as if his childhood and adolescence wasn't enough. No- apparently his future is on the menu next, to be devoured with every breath you struggle to take.
The intercom rings, and Jungkook doesn't care for it- simply swipes his hand over the panel near the window to accept it, Yoongis surprised voice ringing out- tone changing quickly as he notices the blurred scene of Jungkook and you in the corner, transmission a little choppy due to the damage to the ship.
"I received an emergency signal- are you there?" He asks with urgency, and Jungkook just hums a reply. "Jungkook, what happened?" He worries, ship slowly coming into view of the large side windows, light blue paint flaking off the metal casing of the small ship.
"We ran into him." Jungkook mumbles, running his hand over your head in a soft manner, relishing in your warmth for as long as it's there. "He tried to take her- she snuck out.. got in last minute." He explains. Yoongi exhales a breath.
"Thank god-" He starts, but Jungkook wasn't finished.
"They shot her." He hums, voice emotionless, eyes a pale grey. "Now she's dying." He chuckles softly, looking down at you- you look like you're merely sleeping, resting against his body. "He's taking everything from me even past his lifetime." He scoffs.
"I'm tugging your ship to the nearest outpost- it's Aon, we should make it in less than half an hour max." Yoongi urges, saying something to what Jungkook assumes must be his human partner. "We have medical supplies on board. Is she still bleeding?"
No answer. Jungkook fails to see the point of one.
"Jungkook!" Yoongi barks. "Did you at least wrap her wounds? Anything?" He tries to find out, but the Bolku hybrid stays quiet- too mesmerized by sight of your eyes moving behind your closed lids. Your lashes are long. Soft. How come he's never noticed that? "Jungkook you gotta give me something to work with!" Yoongi whines almost, successfully connecting to Jungkook's autopilot, initiating the system to follow Yoongi's ship that's not in front.
Jungkook sighs. "I wrapped her up.. the best I can." He shrugs. "Now I'm letting her sleep."
Yoongi sighs. "What was she even shot with?" He wants to know, but Jungkook doesn't know. "Alright, I guess that's the only info I'll get out of you at this point." He mumbles to himself, before he cuts the intercom for the moment, quietly leading the ship to Aon- a small outpost set on a large meteorite, meant for simple refueling of smaller ships and temporary stay for some stranded people who didn't make it to the next bigger planet.
It's not much- but it'll do.
The only problem arises when Yoongi enters the ship and wants to look at you together with a doctor he'd found on Aon- because Jungkook just won't let anybody close to you, mind having slipped entirely now in the prospect of you being in such distress. It takes several people to remove the rather feral human hybrid from you, his eyes basically scanning every little move anyone makes as they check on you, everyone's nerves slowly relaxing. "Humans are truly odd in those things." Someone says, as he uses all four of his arms to properly put some bandages and patches onto your wounds. "They just sleep it off it seems like." He laughs, finishing up the patch on your back before he leaves you alone- and nods to the people holding Jungkook to let him go.
He immediately rushes back to you, tugging you closer, holding you tightly as you whine a bit in complain in your sleep, turning over to properly hold onto him as well.
"She'll be fine." Yoongi reassures, much to Jungkook's eyes turning round with wonder at that promise. "Humans are.. weird when it comes to ion guns." He shrugs. "It's just mostly tissue damage, some scratches here and there- but she'll literally sleep it off, like he said. She'll be fine- she just needs rest." He offers, causing a reaction he's not seen in years from the younger alien.
He cries, bitterly so-
but this time, it's tears of relief and happiness.
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"No no no no- come here." He scolds, pulling you close again to have you sit down on his lap at the main control console.
Jungkook is not letting you do anything whatsoever, even though your wounds are healing well. He's also become, while still moody as ever, incredibly touchy. As if that scare had flipped a switch and showed him how quickly you could be taken away from him again, it seems like he's decided that there's really no reason anymore to take things slow or be afraid of anything.
"Hey Jungkook?" You wonder, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him. He hums, not looking away from the control screen in front of him, and you giggle, still a little sleepy and low on energy due to all the medication you're taking. "I like you." You say, and this time, he chuckles-
turning his head to press a kiss against your cheek-
because he finally understands what you're trying to tell him.
He finally gets it.
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492 notes · View notes
spidybaby · 1 year
Text
Be quiet, please
Summary: Kylian got a little too drunk and decided to share some information he isn't supposed to.
Warning: Slightly cursing.
Part two
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"Princesa, do you want another drink?" Neymar asks you, noticing the glass in your hand is empty. "Please," you hand him the glass with a smile.
Your attention goes back to Melissa and Fayza, Melissa was telling you a story about her recent trip. From time to time, you turned your attention to the dance floor, Kylian was dancing with Bruna, she's trying to teach him some Brazilian dance.
You can't help but smile, dizzying off from the conversation with the two women.
The party was something Kylian wanted to do, not being a very party guy himself, he asked you to help him plan it. And if you were honest, you did an amazing job, all his teammates and their partners were there, his parents, his brothers and close friends too.
"I mean, that's good for me. What about you, y/n?" Melissa asks you. You turned back to her a little embarrassed because you have no idea what they're talking about. "Yes," you say, trying to save the talk.
Fayza can't help but laugh while Melissa just looks at you with a funny expression. "You have no idea what we're talking about," she says as she joins Kylians mother. "Sorry, I zoned out." The blush on your face only grows.
"Melissa was talking about meeting for breakfast tomorrow, just us and Lana," Fayza tells you. You smile really hard, loving how they always involve you in every activity they do. "I'll love to. Let's have brunch at the cute cafe we visited last time, " you suggested happily.
"Princesa, your drink, extra special for my good friend," ney interrupt the conversation handing your drink to you. "Miss Lamari, Melissa, would you like something else to drink?" He offered happy. Ney decided to be the bartender helper since he couldn't really dance because of his injury.
They thank him and accept the offer, ney goes back to the bar to prepare the drinks. "I was thinking," you say, pausing to drink a little of the cocktail. "Ky asked me to start planning the wedding, he wants to have a summer wedding and I want to ask you to help me."
The thought of your wedding with him makes you excited. Since he proposed back before the World Cup, you started saving ideas for dresses, venue ideas, and daydreaming of what everything was going to look like.
Fayza moves closer to hug you, excited at the idea of you finally joining the family as her sons wife. She helped Kylian with the proposal, helped him pick the ring, and practice his speech. She was the most welcoming woman on earth. Since day one, she was arms open to you, knowing as soon as she met you, you were there for the long run. She wasn't wrong.
"I can't believe it's been a few months since that, you know I love you like a sister, count with me on anything."
When you moved to Paris, you didn't expect to find love and a family that loved you and protect you. Not expecting any of that to go so well as it's going.
"Thank you, both of you"
You hug them easily as you were in the middle of them. Ethan walked close to the scene and asks what's going on.
"What's going on is that Melissa wants to dance, and you're taking her," you say, watching Melissa roll her eyes at you but accept dancing with her little brother in law.
Verrati and Marquinhos saw this and decided to invite you and Fayza to dance, accepting the offer you move to the dance floor. Some Brazilian music is playing, probably a request from one of the team guys. Loving to see Ney and Marquinhos break the dance floor with their moves, tonight only being Marquinhos.
Kylian saw that you and Marco were dancing and smiled. He was happy to have you, happy to see how you blend amazingly into his world, not thinking of anyone more than you to do it.
"Go, Kylian!" Bruna yelled as he got the steps correctly this time, after what it seemed like a whole night trying. "Go, Kyky. Go, Kyky. " Sergio and Pilar cheer for him. Antonella and Leo are trying to imitate the dance as bruna directs the whole choreography.
You took Ethans hand, dancing a little bit with him while Melissa and Marco dance together, Marcos wife lost at the bar laughing with Neymar. Everybody's having fun. Everybody's relaxing, forgetting about their worries for a moment.
After a good time on the dance floor, Fayza and you go back to your seats. You are tired from the workout you did in the morning, cursing yourself for it. After a few songs, Melissa frees herself from Marco, handing him to Bruna, and she accepts excited to teach more dance moves. It was her night, and nobody denied it. We just accepted it.
Kylian left the dance floor when his eyes and yours made contact, walking your way, you open your arms for him to get into them, embracing you while you kiss his cheek. "You did it amazing, amour. Such a dancer, " you smiled, pulling away from him,
You both laugh, and he takes a seat next to you and in the middle of Melissa and his mom. "Maman," he yells, a little more drunk than usual, something is not common in him, but tonight you're happy he's letting go, knowing he needs that "Je vais me marier." (I'm getting married) Fayza, and you let out a laugh. Finding adorable the way he's so excited about it.
"I know, my love. I can't be happier for you, " she says, caressing his cheek as a love sign. She has the same thoughts as you, Kylian has a very pressured life, so it's good for him to let go and enjoy his youth.
Kylian recliners himself into you, his head into your shoulder, giving him access to your cheeks and neck, something he didn't take for granted, kissing you cheek multiple times. "Ky, stop," you pull away a little, not wanting him to start something he's not supposed to. Not in front of his mother.
"Tu n'aimes pas que je t'embrasse?" (You don't want to kiss me?) His expression turns into a hurt one, "Chérie, s'il vous plaît" (honey, please) he tries to kiss your cheeks again, but you move your face, making him pout harder this time "You weren't denying my kisses this morning while I was inside of you." You move your hand to his mouth, stopping him to finish his sentence. Melissa can't help but let out a loud laugh, Fayza laughs with her while shaking her head. "Amour, be quiet, please."
He takes his hand into yours and moves it, freeing his mouth. "Est-ce que je te fais de l'effet?" (Do I make you feel good?) He whispers into your ear.
You can't help the blush that creeps into your face. "Ky, be quiet," you whisper to his ear. "Why? maman sait ce qu’on fait" (mom knows what we're doing). With every single word of him, you can feel your face turn more red. Thankfully, the color of the lights helps you.
"Maman, elle m’a fait me sentir si bien ce matin" (mom, she made me feel so good this morning) kylian tells his mother, laughing casually, not caring a single bit about the meaning of his words. "Et peut être que je vais te faire sentir bien, ce soir" (And, baby, Ima make you feel so good, tonight) You try to hush him again, but his hands on yours difficult you the work.
"Oh Chérie, you're so drunk right now, " Fayza, who is enjoying the moment, knowing damn well she'll use it to mess with him later, tries to shush him. Melissa, on the other hand, is enjoying everything, not caring to make him stop but decide to help you. "Kyks, come with me, I want another drink," she says while taking his hands and pulling him off of you.
You stay there, ashamed that Kylian says that in front of his mother, deciding to drink your cocktail, looking at everything but the eyes of your future mother in law. "Y/n, Chérie, don't worry." She says, feeling your discomfort and laughing at how embarrassed you were. "But I have the feeling I know now why you wanted a brunch and not an early breakfast," she joked with you, which makes you laugh, you love the way she always makes sure you're comfortable.
You can't deny that even though you feel embarrassed, you lived for these moments. Yes, it was something you were going to be mocked about for a long time, but hey, it's the memories that count.
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mortalityplays · 1 year
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This is a very good illustration of the increasing susceptibility to conspiratorial thought patterns I've been seeing on the left lately. Just because you don't believe there are space marines on Mars doesn't mean you're immune to building imaginary connections between aesthetic or emotional data points and mistaking them for evidence. A lot of well meaning people in my circles have been sharing this story, buying uncritically into the first narrative they encountered. I want to break down why:
Jones' twitter thread was extremely emotional and extremely urgent. The idea of a child being ripped away from his frantic mother and a ticking clock to decide his fate both helped the story to bypass analytical scrutiny. It sends the message 'act now, before it's too late, it's the only compassionate thing to do'.
Her connection to an existing conspiracy (a concerted effort by the state to cover up Covid statistics) creates a strengthening association with the idea that this is also a conspiracy. The thread offers no positive evidence that her son's arrest was a conspiracy, and no positive evidence that his arrest has any connection to her prior experiences.
Jones' allegation that the arrest was retribution for her actions as a whistleblower implicitly identifies her in the reader's mind. A lot could be unpacked about her dispute with the DOH but it doesn't really matter because I don't think most people who circulated this story knew much about it either way. The point is that it anchors her identity in a few key concepts: 'whistleblower', 'covid scientist', 'concerned citizen'. None of these qualities are relevant to the events detailed in the thread (or evidenced in the thread, if we're being really rigorous), but they unconsciously prejudice the reader's assessment of whether to trust or side with her. Simply put, if you are concerned about how covid was handled and/or inclined to support whistleblowers, you are more likely to assume she's credible.
If you dislike and distrust cops, you are primed to accept a narrative in which they are doing something straightforwardly evil. Don't get me wrong, fuck 12, but I say that armed with an enormous preponderance of cases in which we have positive evidence of police acting out of self interest, cruelty, corruption, racism, misogyny, etc. Allowing ourselves to be seduced by the fantasy that they are always always without fail breaking rules and fashing it up in broad daylight only makes us easier to delude and manipulate.
She repeatedly made the point that her son is autistic. Again, if you are autistic or sympathetic to autistic people, you are more likely to be 'warmed up' by this detail and inclined to take her side. I'm not going to say it's irrelevant to the idea that he was being unfairly targeted, but it is overwhelmingly emotionally weighted. And again, it is not evidence that he was unfairly targeted. It's another weight on the scale that tips you to judge the truth value of her story without reality checking.
The example of a meme that she shared is characteristic of a type of online humour that is at least familiar to most of us. If you or your friends make edgy jokes and share tasteless irony memes, or if you've been online for more than like a week, you understand that they're mostly harmless. The idea that this meme could be used as evidence by law enforcement to detain you is ideologically threatening in an immediately relatable way. It evokes a reflex defensive impulse — that's not fair, the cops are wrong, the kid is innocent — bypassing the process of verification. Is this meme the reason he was arrested? Is it the only one he posted? Is it the only reason he was arrested?
All of these factors create a gut-led constellation of information that quickly forms a picture. Because it is being pieced together from multiple subconscious feelings and prejudices, it feels as if it has been evidenced. Because the thread was highly emotional and highly urgent, readers were pressured to jump to rapid conclusions and ask "what can I do to help?" (and the answer, as it almost always is, was 'donate money, quick').
I want to be really clear that I am not saying Jones manufactured any of these effects on purpose. It would be completely within reason that having a young child arrested would send anyone into an emotional tailspin, grasping for reasons this might have happened, leaping to his defense, rallying resources to fight on his behalf. I am not in any way ascribing malice to her actions.
What I'm interested in is the effect that this emotive kneejerk appeal had on people who were unknowingly predisposed to believe that the state of Florida would kidnap a child to punish a scientist for disagreeing with the department of health about covid statistics. That is a baseless conspiracy theory, and a huge number of people in my immediate circles reflexively amplified it.
Personally, I think arrest is a godawful way to respond to a child having a mental health crisis, even if they are seen to pose a violent threat. That still doesn't mean the cops did it at the bidding of a mad dictator in waiting. In the hypothetical parallel universe where it turns out Jones was right and this was all a conspiracy to punish her, it still would not have served the situation to jump to that conclusion on a gut feeling.
Pausing to identify relevant, verifiable facts before sharing a story like this is always warranted, even if you think the person telling it is 'on your side'. The more you worry that questioning the narrative wastes precious time or makes you a bad person, the more you should scrutinise why you are being made to feel that way. Accepting unfounded conspiracies into your worldview is not benign, even if you think the 'targets' deserve it. It erodes your critical perspective and turns you into a vector for the people around you.
tl;dr: you are not immune to baseless conspiratorial thought
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charlesf1leclerc · 7 months
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Summary- The gender reveal of the third Leclerc baby
warnings- talks of knives ( only to cut the cake ) just thought I would still mention. Poorly edited
The party was in full swing you and Charles 
All the guests had arrived, music was playing , voices and kids laughing filled the air. Today was yours and Charles gender reveal for your third baby you had decided to throw a party abit different to the intimate reveals you had for your two little girls. Everyone was gathered in pascales backyard as she offered to host it take all the stress away from you especially since Charles was always away racing and you had a 7 and 3 year old, you were very great full for your mother in law. You were very excited to find out the gender of your baby unlike other times when you were a little nervous now on your third kids you couldn’t be more excited 
You hoped this time it would be a boy not only for Charles so he could have a joy to rough around with but also you wouldn’t mind switching it up a little. Of course you didn’t care either way you loved Sicily and Indy with all your heart and Charles loved his little girls with every fiber of his being. 
“ This is so pretty Pascale thank you so much”  you said thankfully 
“ my pleasure anything for you” she smiled wrapping you in a hug leaving you behind.
You turned to look around at all the people. Everyone had shown up for you and you couldn’t have been happier and seeing all the kids running around playing , your kids running around.
“ why are you crying Cherie “ Charles asked wrapping his arms around you.
Guess you hadn’t realised that you were crying , happy tears , hormonal tears.
“ It’s just everyone came”
Of course Charles was used to hormones after all the other pregnancies.
“ oh I know it’s ok, they love you”
That just made you cry harder
Arthur walked past the two off you giving a concerned/ questioning look as you were wrapped up in Charles.
Charles just turned and mouthed hormones and Arthur nodded his head trying not to find it funny. Yes this is why he didn’t have kids of his own yet, he was made to be more the uncle type.
“ wanna get some food” Charles knew exactly how to divert the emotions
“ oh food” you turned around towards the table of sweets and left Charles standing their shaking his head laughing.
“Papa, papa” the two girls came running up to their papa with excitement behind their voices.
“ yes my loves” he bent down to be at their level
“ when are we cutting the cake?” Asked Sicily
“ soon I promise, just wait a little longer” the girls were both very excited to find out if they were going to be having a sister or a brother especially Sicily as now she would be a big sister too.
“ but I can’t wait that long , I’m getting bored” Indy whined 
“ why don’t you go annoy Arthur that should give you some fun” he said to the girls as the walked off to annoy their favrouite uncle. 
“ Are we sure we should of trusted Arthur with making sure the cake was right” Lorenzo whispered to his mum
“ It’s gonna be fine , plus if it comes out wrong we will just say it’s a prank I have a backup cake” she whispered back
It wasn’t until an hour later that you and Charles were stood in-front if the cake, the girls were growing impatient and so was Charles to be honest. Charles had Sicily rested upon his hip and Indy stood in-front of you. 
“ Ok go on girls place your hand on the knife” Charles encouraged , “ I would not say this under any other circumstances” everyone laughed. 
Of course you and Charles had a hand on there as well to help the girls cut the slice.
“ are you read” you asked
“ yes mummy cut” Sicily yelled
“ ok ok” 
“ 3,2,1” everyone counted down
You all pushed down into the cake to cut a slice. Revealing a blue colour. It was a boy
all the boys came running up jumping and hugging charles which startled the little girl on his hip.
“ Is it the right colour! “ Lorenzo shouted
“ yes it is their having a boy” Pascale said
“ You have such little faith in me , you break my heart” Arthur sobbed 
All your friends had came up to you.
You were happy now you had a variety and charles and you finally had your little boy.
“ papa, what does blue mean is mummy having a Smurf? “ Sicily looked up at her father
“ No! Don’t be silly mummy’s having a boy” Indy laughed
“ ohhhhhhhhh” she replied
Charles put your youngest daughter down on the ground to come and hug you. He kissed your lips.
“ you happy with a boy” he asked
“ of course, our family’s complete now”
Charles leant back into hug you when he felt two arms pull at his pants and hem of his shirt
“ papa can I have that slice of cake” Indy asked both girls looking up with hopeful eyes
He laughed but the girl got their cake and the day went on as the air was filled with excitement for a little baby boy Leclerc
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Second Chance 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Jonathan Pine
Summary: You move into your parents' house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.
Part of the Brother's Best Friend Universe
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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It’s no glorious homecoming. You have little to be proud of. A broken relationship, a lost job, and wasted years. In hindsight, it’s easy to see how stupid you are. Even with the excuse of emotion, you can’t forgive yourself for your own poor choices.
Back to square one. Literally. What kind of forty-two year old lives with their parents? The one staring back at you.
You splash your face, rinsing away the collagen wash that doesn’t seem to help the wrinkles. If it had, maybe he wouldn’t have cheated. Maybe he wouldn’t be shacked up with a woman half your age. A girl, really.
You shake your head and sigh. Nothing you can do or undo.
You shut off the tap as you hear voices above. The basement is close enough to an apartment; you have your own bathroom and a reasonable amount of space. Privacy is another matter as your mother barges in to get to the laundry room or even just chatter about Clara’s casserole.
You dry your face and your hands and leave the bathroom. You cross the carpeted floor to the stairs and pause. Your brother must have got to town early and your parents are ecstatic to have him back. They can be proud of him; he’s an executive in a national company with a wife-to-be on his arm. Younger but always ahead of you.
You still haven’t found the courage to go up and say hello. Now’s as good a time as ever. You’re thirsty and they say hydration is the key to staying young. Yeah right, that’s not something you can change now.
You hope your future sister-in-law doesn’t mind your pajamas. The blue and white striped satin set are of the few nice things you salvaged from your former life. You open the door and shuffle up in your slippers.
The voices draw you to the kitchen. You peek around and find your parents standing on one side of the square island as your brother stands between two other figures. You didn’t think there was anyone else coming.
You think better of introducing yourself. You’ll go back downstairs and say you fell asleep. As you turn, your arm hits the vase on the side table. You cringe as it goes silent.
“Honey?” Your mother calls to you. You exhale and steel yourself.
“Uh, hi,” you sidle into the doorway, “I didn’t want to interrupt. I just wanted to get some water.”
“Nonsense, Jaydon’s here with his love fiancee, Tandi,” she trills as she beckons you forward, “and Jonathan popped in to catch up.”
You look around as you near the island. Jonathan. Pine? You didn’t think he was still around here. Everyone else seems to have moved on.
“Hey,” your brother, Jaydon grumbles.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Tandi offers her hand with a bright smile. She’s tall and slim and beautiful and probably ten years younger than your brother. Why do men always do that?
“You too,” you give a strained smile.
“Nice to see you again,” Jonathan intones and you look at him, struck by his clinging eyes.
He changed but he is not unrecognizable. He was always the tall, stringy kid but he’s filled out, he has some lines across his forehead and around his eyes, but they only refine his looks. He used to just be your brother’s sidekick, now he stays straight and confident.
“You too, Jonathan,” you murmur, “sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”
“We made pretty good time,” Jaydon says proudly.
“Just so happens I’m in town for a family affair as well,” Jonathan adds, “good a time as ever to reconnect.”
You nod and wait for someone else to speak. You have nothing exciting to boast of. You’d rather fade into the background in the shine of their achievements. You’re certain they’ve already been briefed on your comedy of errors.
“Me and Tandi were just saying we’d like to go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. You could join us for a ladies’ day out. We’ll give the men some space,” your mother chimes. “Get you out of the house.”
Her last comments sting. You’ve been hiding. You don’t want to be recognised or need to explain yourself. Even if you did deflect curiosity, you don’t need another reminder of all your failures. And the farmer’s market? What are you going to do there? You don’t have the money for overpriced heirloom tomatoes.
Still, you have to play along. That was the talk your mother had with you. Like a teenager she had to tell you exactly how to behave when company was there. Company? He’s your brother.
“Sure, that sounds good,” you agree.
“I’m so excited,” Tandi beams, “it will be nice to explore and get to know Jay’s hometown.”
She touches his arm and he promptly drapes it around her shoulders. Jay? He always hated being called that but he seems to like her. For now. Their show of intimacy makes you shrivel up inside.
“There is very much to see,” Jonathan quips, putting your own thoughts to words. “Quaint, as the polite would put it.”
“Well, I recall you never had any issue finding something to do,” your mother rebukes playfully and Jonathan smirks.
“Yes, but I don’t suppose it’s the sort of activity your little ladies’ day out would entail,” he gives a coy tilt of his head.
“I hope you’ve grown out of that,” your mother kids.
“Mm, I like to think I have,” he shrugs.
You’re certain he has. All of them are the adults in the room and you’re the hermit in the basement. You have no illusions, you know your mother, you know all your mistakes have been laid out on the table; on every table in town. Oh woe to her, she always did try to raise you right.
“Mm, yes, well, it has been so long and you are all adults,” your mother says, as if to affirm your resent, “you’ve all come such a far way.”
You bite down on your cheeks, holding your tongue. It’s probably not a snipe at you, you’re just sensitive. You look at the counter and try to make yourself small. The glimpse of your pajamas once more sets you apart from them. How embarrassing.
“Oh, yes, speaking of,” Jaydon pipes up, “the engagement party. You said you had a venue in mind. We should see that while we’re here.”
“Ah,” your mother nearly squeals, “you’re going to do it here?”
“We talked about it,” Jaydon looks at Tandi, “but the wedding is still up in the air.”
“Oh my, how exciting,” your mother trills. “Perhaps tomorrow then, we might do that as well,” your mother continues her giddy raving, “mm, and flowers, catering, oh! A dress…”
You could slip away right then. She wouldn’t notice. None of them would.
You peek over at her. She was never that excited for you. Well, you never got the ring. You were never that special. You tear your eyes away and they meet another pair. You quickly wipe the sadness from your face and send Jonathan a plaintive smile. His eyes narrow and his gaze lingers.
You break your own stare and try to focus on the conversation. You should be happy for your brother, not bitter. Afterall, you made your own mistakes, not him.
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omgthatdress · 1 year
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I read several articles about the history of Black dolls when I was preparing my AG spam, and one of the consistent things that kept coming up was what a game-changer Addy was. There were only a few Black Barbies at Toys-R-Us, and Black baby dolls were pretty rare. Addy was finally a popular, easily-available, and high-quality doll that Black girls could have who looked like them.
And White girls bought her, too! I had an Addy! I a lot of ways, Addy was my first real intro to Black history.
Addy has earned a lot of flak for being “the slave doll,” but honestly, anyone who reads her books knows that she is so much more than that. She starts her story enslaved and makes a harrowing journey to freedom, and then learns how to live free. She goes to school, learns to read, and then teaches her mother how to read. She celebrates the end of the war and is able to reunite her family.  She offers a counter-narrative to the 12 Years a Slave-style hopeless trauma porn that often comes with slavery stories, how brave Black people brought themselves to freedom and built a community for themselves. Addy helped this little White girl learn that Black lives matter and that Black history is important.
Living in Florida and seeing Ron DeSantis do everything he fucking can to censor Black history (if you don’t know about it, please take this moment to learn about the Rosewood Massacre), I’m really, really, really glad I had Addy and her books to be my entry way to Black history. It may have started with slavery, but it sure as hell didn’t end with slavery.
ANYWAY. Here’s a pretty great article about how Addy came about.
As far as her fashion goes, it’s all pretty accurate! I love that finally an American Girl has her hair up!
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In the book, Addy receives her dress from a woman running a safe house during her escape from slavery. Even thought it’s relatively plain, it’s much, much, much nicer than anything Addy has worn before, and it really hits home how much better her life is going to be now that she’s free.
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(ebay)
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Fun lil fact: in the 90s the gourd was made from an actual gourd (I had the actual gourd!), which had a little cork stopper in it, but a crop failure (and Canadian import laws) changed it to plastic.
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blouisparadise · 2 months
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There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!
1) Strawberry Cake | Teen & Up | 1,789 words
When Louis gets stuck in a bad situation at a bar, Harry steps in to help.
2) Intoxicated | Mature | 2,156 words
“Could, I-uh- get a drink, perhaps?” The stranger asks. Louis snaps back. Quickly closing his mouth and attempting to respond to the deep and surprisingly demanding voice. “Oh, I’m sorry but we are closed for the day” Louis responds. In all honesty he could have made the man a drink, but the lack of supplies Louis had thus far prevented him from offering anything but a half drunk bottle of beer. “But the door was open.” The person retrots. Inviting himself further into the establishment and seating himself down on one of the tables. Louis knits his eyebrows together out of confusion. He also stops admiring the man and feels annoyance building up instead. “Yes, the door was open, but my bar is still closed.” Louis replies. Annunciating the fact that he was in charge so his words could be taken more seriously by this customer that was turning from charming to sour.
3) I’ll Love You When The Oceans Dry, I’ll Love You When The Rivers Freeze | Explicit | 2,515 words
Harry and Louis are on vacation with their friends. Louis gets very drunk so Harry takes him back to his hotel room. He sees text exchanges about Louis liking some guy and he gets jealous so snoops more and realizes it is him. In the morning, Louis realizes that Harry snoops and secrets are revealed.
4) Powerless (And I Don't Care) | Explicit | 4,061 words
Everyone on tour calls each other daddy, don’t ask why. And Louis is so used to calling everyone “daddy” that, when he finally comes home, naturally he calls Harry that.
5) Now You Hang From My Lips | Explicit | 6,292 words
Louis gives him an appraising look—starting at the soles of his expensive shoes and ending at the top of his head. “Just a drink,” he answers, because he loves this part—the chase. He loves having someone hanging on his every word and if there’s one thing for sure he’ll make somebody work for it. If H isn’t down for that, if he gives up too easily then it wasn’t meant to be anyways. Because that’s the other half of it, Louis also wants someone who will put him in his place. “Well in that case, I’ve got room with a minibar. Why don’t you come upstairs with me and you can have whatever you want.” Bingo.
6) Mother In Law | Mature | 8,070 words
Harry has been watching Louis from afar for about a month, but he refuses to call himself a stalker. He just admires him, not following him like a creep. Until one day, Louis approaches him. They have sex. Harry finds out that Louis is rich and he feels insecure. He decides that he needs to let Louis go. The problem is Louis falls deeper.
7) Behind Smoke Stained Curtains | Explicit | 19,054 words
It was a particularly lonely night when Harry walked through his door with a flurry of snow. He was a little rough around the edges with a trucker hat pushed down over untamed long hair. He looked a little greasy, a shower definitely not in his recent past. His tan Carhartt work coat was smudged with dirt and oil and caked with grime, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The scent was overwhelming as soon as he walked in, unmasked alpha from days on the road stewing in a cab of his own pheromones. Louis was sure it was so deep into the fabric of his coat that no amount of washing would ever truly remove the stench. The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.
8) Sunshine (You Temptress) | Explicit | 26,870 words
All it took was one idiotic dare, one boy, one night. He’s twenty eight years old, six months fresh out of possibly the worst break up you could ever imagine, and his Friday nights are spent fucking a nineteen year old stranger. He’s still not completely sure how it happened.
10) The Road Not Taken | Explicit | 35,285 words
Louis’ not paying attention as his phone unlocks, and he’s shocked when the thread opens and there’s only one message there from an unknown contact. I’m home. For a minute he assumes it’s got to be a wrong number, and before he can decide whether to just ignore it or send a response the three dots show up and then a second message. It’s Harry by the way. And finally a third right after that. Are you busy tonight?
11) You Could Be The One That I Love | Explicit | 39,797 words
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Niall waved off. “Now, let’s talk man to man to man. You two have had a crush on each other since uni. Now’s your chance to finally get something going. I could see the sparks and connection and attraction back then and I can still see it now, God damn it! You’re just denying fate at this point.” He looked impassioned, his blue eyes wide and imploring. Louis shook his head again and chuckled. “You can’t just snap your finger and expect us to, like, get it on.” “I’m not,” he reasoned. “I’m merely telling you to do something about it.”
12) Paradise Is Getting Closer | Mature | 52,685 words
Louis hated his life, which consisted only of death and destruction. Despite the lives he had saved and continued to save, a part of him couldn't feel satisfied. He had been the one who gave up a normal life and although he knew what was to come, the loneliness had never left him in all these years, not even for a second. He felt it in his heart every time he approached a target, he felt it in the few minutes before falling asleep in his dingy car or while he allowed himself a few hours of sleep before setting off again, and he felt it every time he closed that door behind him.
13) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 58,638 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis. “All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.” “As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”
14) Men Are Shit | Explicit | 77,728 words
Welcome to Louisland. Here you'll find fluffy socks, chaos and always enough alcohol to toast the fact that all men are shit.
15) You Were My Because | Explicit | 109,089 words
Note: Please remember to check tags for any trigger warnings.
Louis has battled the demons of his past for years now and has little hope of finding happiness for himself. Especially now that a school reunion is taking place and the memories of his school days are suddenly coming back with full force. But after rain always comes sunshine, in Louis’ case in the form of his old schoolmate Harry. A story about healing, friendship, finding trust and love.
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prismatic-bell · 7 months
Text
So I’m helping to do research for a Fallout 4 mod, and I’ve found yet another fun new way Africa has been fucked over by colonialism.
Said mod is a book-finding mod, and I’m researching literary fiction (so: no biographies, no histories, no memoirs, no textbooks, religious texts must be in the form of a story or allegory rather than praise hymns). I started with Western literature as requested and then went “hm, you know what could be interesting from an immersion/lore perspective? Including some Chinese texts” and from there to “you know, the divergence didn’t occur until the mid-to-late sixties and the whole learning-Buddhism-and-Hinduism-to-‘find-yourself’ thing was already underway by then, I should really put the Bhagavad-Gita on this list” and from there to “why should I leave anyone out? Let the main author pick from a bunch of texts, I’m just giving him resources.”
So to abide by US copyright laws because they’re stupid, I have to find texts where the author died before 1953. And in America, Western Europe, China, and Japan, this has proved to be no problem. You can’t throw a rock at a shelf of literature from these countries without hitting a long-dead author. The literary traditions are long and robust.
I’m currently working my way through African literature before swinging back around to Latin America. I’m using Goodreads as my starting point.
I have gone through over two hundred titles.
I. Have. Found. THREE.
Three African authors of fiction who died before 1953. Two of them are white South Africans. One of those two was a missionary during the Boer War.
If I expanded my criteria to include memoirs, I could add two more. Also both white.
There are almost no Black African authors at all before the 1980s. Not “Black African fiction authors,” mind you. Just Black African authors. Nonfiction too. Almost none. I think I’ve counted five.
And I can’t find a single collection of African folktales that was put together before the 1970s. Like I understand much of the story tradition across the African continent was oral until the 20th century, but you’d think surely someone at some point wrote down SOMETHING just to have it documented. That does not appear to be the case. It’s all either stuff like “History of Ethiopia” (ask me if I’m willing to bet a plug nickel anything in a book written by a white dude in the 1890s and titled “History of Ethiopia” is correct) or “hey, we’re missionaries, listen to our harrowing tale of trying to bring Jesus to the savages!” (WHY. I mean we know why. But WHY.)
I was hoping to find 100 books, fifty from the northern part of Africa not including the MENA region (which is its own section in this research) and fifty from the southern. If this sounds extremely sparse, yes, I know it is, but I came into this already expecting to have trouble finding African works due to colonialism and the prioritization of white texts. I figured 100 would be doable and if I found more I could be pleasantly surprised and divide the continent into further subsections. (I also chose not to do it by country because the borders within Africa have changed so much. It seemed more relevant to sort them by mother language and rough geographic location because so many places and kingdoms no longer exist under the names and borders they once held.)
I didn’t expect to find NOTHING.
I expected something to at least EXIST.
The continent that brought us the entire human race has had its stories basically stripped away by white people.
I am grieving for a history that isn’t even mine, destroyed by people who assumed the second-largest land mass on earth had nothing to offer except what they could rip out of the ground.
The stories are gone. That’s fucking horrifying.
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