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#i do think there's a comfort in knowing the world won't stop for me
bluecollarmcandtf · 2 days
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Cash Slave, reporting in...
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Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!
I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!
Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!
I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!
See you tonight, master!
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Hello sir.
It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.
You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.
That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.
Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.
Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.
Thank you again, sir.
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Hello boss.
Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.
I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.
It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!
The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!
Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!
Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!
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Tell my wife hello for me, master!
Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.
The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!
You deserve it all.
I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.
Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!
I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!
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Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?
I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.
My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!
As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!
As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.
I'll be awaiting your return, sir.
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Hey little bro,
I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.
He's such an idiot.
Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.
I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.
Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!
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forestofsprites · 2 months
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i think that sometimes the best thing that you can do is remind yourself that there are beaches. lakes, rivers, and ponds. there are forests. little woods and meadows. there are canyons. gullies and mountain cliffs. there are rainy days. dry spells and scorching blue skies. that the world turns. changes as much as it repeats. that feeling slow today won't stop tomorrow's high tide. won't make july's blackberries any less ripe
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hazeism · 4 months
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hi!! wanted to ask if you have any favorite books, either that you've read recently or of all time. Your prose is insane and I need to broaden my own vocabulary so if you have any book recs, fiction or nonfiction, I'd love to know :')
Hii :D ! ahaha, what a well-timed question; lately I've become the kind of guy who just really wants to talk about what people are reading, or are planning to read, and responding in kind, so thanks for giving me an opportunity to indulge that, haha. What a wicked invention the printing press was!!! (Also--thank you!! I'm glad my prose is to your taste. I'm happy !💕)
If you don't mind, I'll put a cut on this right away, because I know I'm very talkative, but let me put a TLDR above for all the novels/authors I mention here. Disclaimer also that I am kind of a dunce (I think you know this) so I like silly shit a lot of times . please be nice to me adfhbjkdg. :D
(No nonfiction also because I'm a frivolous and unworldly little sprite or something but if you want straight philosophy [which counts] come back and I'll do my Top Ten Epic Platonic Dialogues Compilation for you .)
TLDR: Read any UKLG you get your hands on, Cain by Jose Saramago, or any Saramago (though maybe not Skylight, which is not a good introduction to Saramago), very much enjoyed Sartre's The Age of Reason recently, Shadow & Claw or The Fifth Head of Cerberus by Gene Wolfe. If you feel like it, come off anon and tell me what you like, so I can give more tailored recommendations!!
Now if you're asking for favorites, like just the particular and arbitrary objects of my partiality, that stir my stupid little heart, the true answer is probably UKLG's The Farthest Shore, just because it is very special to me. I can't, of course, in good conscience, recommend the third novel of a six-novel fantasy series to someone (but of course read Le Guin, everyone should be reading Le Guin, it's dire for universal soteriology that we all read Le Guin; You'll probably get told to start with Left Hand of Darkness, and that's pretty solid. I liked The Lathe of Heaven as well. And if you read any Le Guin it doesn't hurt to pick up a copy of the Tao. I love the Tao man.)
Some friendlier recommendations, though:
José Saramago is someone I really consider peerless; There's no way to pick up a Saramago and not know who's written it. Cain is a bit drier, a bit more abrasive (almost accusatory, in that particular way you'll find in a Buddhist parable) and bleak than some other Saramagos, but it's one I like (perhaps for the trite reason that I like bucolic atmospheres and Classical antiquity as a setting) so it's the one I'll put forward.
Uhh, I've also been enjoying Sartre's Roads to Freedom lately, starting with The Age Of Reason. I'm partway through the second novel and umm... despite all the other things you could say about Sartre, lmfao, let it not be said that he is not a serious literary force. Serious is maybe the only word for it. Dire, too. I keep a commonplace book, so usually I take excerpts, but this was the first time in memory that I felt compelled to commit entire pages, ahah (I just took pictures though, fuck copying all that).
If you're itching for esoteric language, Shadow of the Torturer (as usually collected with Claw of the Conciliator in a single omnibus edition titled Shadow & Claw; the first of the give-or-take five volume Urth series) by Gene Wolfe will scratch you BLOODY. If you're particularly fussy, you might be irritated by your compulsion to Google, but I find it really makes the experience when you type in a word and the only results are "what the fuck did Gene Wolfe mean by this?" hahaha; Honestly, though, those kinds of complaints are borne from a lack of immersion, but you'll notice pretty quickly that the verbiage is a pretty crucial vehicle OF the immersion.
It may or may not become a commitment, though, if you like Urth enough to want to read through, so if you want Wolfe without the strings--though less of the exciting vocabulary, which is pretty necessarily constrained to Urth--I'd really highly recommend The Fifth Head of Cerberus (the novella OR the novel, I mean the former is volumized in the latter so just start it and if you feel like stopping then stop, haha). Mr. Terminal E is incredible but I scrape enough time out of my daily life to gush about his crazy literary density so I won't do it again here (you should ask my coworker, lmfao, who one time went "stop, hold on, hold on." because my face started getting really red while I was explaining to him some Wolfean gesture). If you read any Wolfe, and I mean ANY Wolfe, because his permatypes and his manipulations of them are endlessly interesting, feel free to come back and chat with me over it!!!
I guess I have to disclaim that my habit is mostly to pick through an author's corpus over a course of, usually, a couple years, and then sometimes I'll read things that will inform my understanding of the genre conventions or currents that the author is writing in (been enjoying Golden Age sci-fi recently)--it's not really as deliberate of a process as it sounds, but I think if you were to map my habits, that's the landscape of it. This means, though, that my reading is actually pretty narrow in scope, and I am not very well read or very knowledgeable in general (who is, in this economy) but it does mean that of the authors I do like, I can probably find the novel that'll work best for your taste.
If you want to come off anon, or I guess just leave another message, haha, (or if someone else wants to, idgaf, we're all friends here at tumblr user hazeism) describing the things you like or look for in a novel I can probably give you a more relevant recommendation. I've been dosing people up a lot lately tbh, it's like a parlor trick I've been doing; I have a conversation with someone and afterwards they'll have a PDF with a relevant Asimov story in their messages, hahaha. I can't help myself sometimes.
Come back anyway, though, if you read anything I talked about, okay? I want to hear about it 🥺
And alsooo (turning to face the audience) if anyone ever wants to put recs in my inbox (or my dms : ) slow replies though sorry I'm a hermit) I'd be happy to take 'em down. Can't guarantee I'll read them in a timely manner, or that you'll ever find out if/when I do, but it's good for me to leave my comfort zone.
#also not what you asked but a thing that i find always pertinent is the fact that synonyms are a scam#no two words ''mean'' and by mean I mean Convey Meaning Serve Function Perform Their Obligations In Continuity Or Discontinuity etc the sam#thing. if two words meant the same thing they would be the same word and even that's a bit of a trap (though i guess there is allure in the#potential scenario in which you are able to so precisely construct the surrounding matter of a sentence that you can get a word to repeat#its exact sensibility when being reused--usually when you are reusing a word you are manipulating it to throw light into an alternate facet#i think maybe it seems like i have an extensive vocabulary (i can't say if I do or not) because I trot out all manner of words in all manne#of contexts. under that pretense. or maybe I am a douchebag who wants to live in the world of forms who knows#sorry for all my me btw your first mistake though was looking at me and going Yeah I bet he has both a meaningful answer AND the ability to#convey it. like no sorry. you'll have to pick through the charnel field again. one million words curse#anonymous#ask#mine#bet you were waiting for me to tell you to read asimov well no. don't feel compelled to do that. i mean don't let me stop you (at the momen#I need them to live so I won't judge you but dhfkudh) i mean if you're currently in a place where reading is difficult (we'veall been there#then his mission of clarity makes his books sublimely digestible impossibly easy to read they're comfortable novels without being totally#unstimulating andthey can in fact be very stimulating if you give them the room to proliferate in your brain . but the thing about asimov i#the best things I find are Daneel (who is a scam and will ruin your life) and HIS PERMATYPEESS guys I love permatypes lately but it's hard#to get the texture of the Asimovian permatypes (muttering about the continuum from fisher through terens) and really luxuriate in them unle#ss you read one fucking million novels . so if you feel like doing that do it but if you don't. don't.#i've been getting so many asks lately (i mean. three. but before that another three!) and it's ruining my icy and aloof image . because i a#a motormouth. and now I'm going to stop typing!!!!!!!!!
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knaveofmogadore · 30 days
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Kfkdks
#messages from knave#im making breakfast and im gonna list my observations from three years of weird living situations#younger siblings of big age gaps will see most interactions as a form of soft combat until trained out of it#but when actual clmbat happens they're used to not having any sway so they don't actually know how to act in arguments#siblings with codependent relationships have their own internal langauge that they apply to others. not sure if they realize they do it#but they'll hold you to the same rules they've mentally created for each other without explaining them#siblings of ALL stripes will approach situations with a set idea of how communication works. and even if it's not a logical way to communica#they'll expect you to also communicate in that way. and if you can't or refuse they'll shut down and communication stalls completely because#they can't fathom doing it any other way except the way they and their siblings socialized each other to do it#siblings with adversarial relationships don't take outside advice and will take attempts to give advice as manipulative. not their fault#oldest siblings are the most conflict averse people on the planet. oldest sinlings say#'is anyone gonna balloon this situation out of proportion by avoiding it for as long as possible' and not wait for an answer#siblings who were regularly appointed as hall monitors will see any interaction with you as transactional#a hallmark of a dysfunctional sibljng relationship is someone who thinks telling you NO is worse than going through a situation they do not#wanna be in. and then they'll complain about it endlessly#and then they'll be like 'i don't want favours from my parents because they'll hold it over me' and never make the connection on their own#people cannot anticipate your needs with their minds. they are sometimes going to ask you to be a part of things you don't wanna#you're NEVER gonna be able to live in a world where people will stop asking you to be a part of things that's not feasible#had one say once 'people should just know not to ask me along for plans I can't get to people should know not to invite me'#and you know dude that's just now how stuff works. there's a difference between 'x cant drive so they can't help me move my dresser' and#'i know xs work schedule so i shouldnt infomr them of group plansnon the off chance they could make it so they don't feel left out'#people with hyper competitive siblings can't fathom that other people won't know how to do stuff. i don't just mean athletes but siblings#with that scarcity mindsetnin general like they can't handle people not having the same knowledge base they have. it's a survival thing#and NO having a life of suffering doesn't make you correct all the time has literally anyone else watched heathers#youngest siblings always have the most deranged dating stories and the oldest in a set of age gap siblings always has the WORST taste in men#< that's directed at my sister and no one else that's a personal diss not a real observation#only children have one thing. theyre SUPER weird about splitting the grocery bill#food is NOT communal to only children I've learned firsthand. Also they'll be perfectly fine sharing anything else BUT food usually#weed. loans. bathroom supplies. dishes. ect. but NOT food#meanwhile sibljngs are a little TOO comfortable chowing down on stuff they didn't buy. bad roommates are bad roommates
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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✎ sweet felicity
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- gojo satoru x reader
what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?
genre: teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok
note: so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.
He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.
But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.
“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”
He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.
Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.
His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."
"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"
"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"
"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"
This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.
"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru."
"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"
He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.
You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”
"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."
If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."
Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...
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Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?
His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.
He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.
And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.
“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”
In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?
He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.
He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—
“Ooh, there he is!”
“Already?!”
“Nevermind—”
—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”
Today is December 7.
It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—
“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—
You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.
You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.
“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.
Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.
“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.
“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.
“As expected,” Megumi snorted.
“Salmon! Salmon!”
“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”
“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”
Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?
Nah, he would deal with him later.
Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.
You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.
And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:
Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.
If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.
“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”
A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.
The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.
Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.
“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”
The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.
And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.
Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.
You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.
Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.
That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.
And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.
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Epilogue
“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”
Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.
You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”
“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”
You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”
“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”
“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.
You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.
“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”
So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?
Your whole heart, of course.
And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.
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decolonize-the-left · 1 month
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I saw your post about the leopards eating faces and democrats and if you think the us is bad under biden have a good look through project 2025 and please fucking realize that queer people, those that can get pregnant, and people of color are going to be absolutely fucked if trump wins in November.
Sigh
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If you ACTUALLY read it then you'd know Biden is ALREADY carrying out the goals outlined in project2025. You'd also know that his administration is even using the SAME exact language that's found in the Mandate for Leadership. Such as "protecting the freedom of navigation in the Suez Canal"
I literally have a post floating around somewhere where I said he was gonna escalate the genocide and smoke out all the rebel groups because guess what? Project2025 outlined that too. Literally listed them as targets that the administration should focus on.
Another part of it says they should continue to protect and support Israel's "right to defend itself" at any cost.
So yeah that thing you're afraid of? It's here. And it's here because you thought the fascist with a blue tie was less scary than a fascist than a red tie so you stopped paying attention when Blue Tie Man was around. And that blue Fascism that's allowing book bans and abortion bans and making trans people illegal is going to stay here and grow because you don't fucking care to address it unless the tie is red.
Maybe fucking read the thing you're trying to fearmonger me about because I guarantee I've read more of it than you.
And it's not that I find the realities in it less scary, it's that I'm not such a privileged shithead that I would prioritize my own comfort over lives being lost in a literal fucking genocide.
Yeah shit sucks for queer people and trans people and trust me, I know that, but we aren't being killed in broad fucking daylight and having people go into denial about it so maybe instead of barking up MY blog about how fucked up everything is you go and send the DNC and your representatives some emails and tell them to give Democrats a candidate that doesnt commit genocide?
How about instead of yelling at me to lower my standards cuz things MIGHT get scarier for you if Blue Tie Man doesn't beat trump (and he won't) you ACCEPT that reality and DO SOMETHING USEFUL about it. How about you and your party just BE BETTER????
There's seven months before the elections and Biden is tanking every poll and Democrats are voting uncommited in swing states and what's Biden doing? Doubling down on every single policy that he's losing voters over (like supporting Israel). If he loses that's not my fault or anyone else's.
Maybe stop asking people to vote for a warmongering white supremacist.
"think of the queers and pregnant people and PoC"
I Am.
They live in Palestine and Sudan and the DRC.
Or did you mean I should prioritize different queers and pregnant people and PoC?
Don't be shy. Did you mean I should prioritize you?
Cuz yeah. Fuck that.
(white) USamerican citizens prioritizing ourselves over everyone else is exactly how the world got so fucked up.
I'm NOT voting for Biden under any fucking circumstances, don't waste my time with another bullshit uninformed scare mongering ask like this again just cuz YOU lack the solidarity to care about any community but your own.
The fuck?
Do you think the queer community only counts Americans? What an ignorant thing to say. "Think of minority communites but only from this specific part of the world"
You wouldn't know community if it hit you in the fucking face.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
safe
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words: 1.1k
warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe
“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.
“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.
“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”
“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”
“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”
“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.
“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”
“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”
“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”
“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.
“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”
you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.
“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.
“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.
he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.
“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”
you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.
“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.
“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.
“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”
“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”
“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.
“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”
“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”
“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.
“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.
“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”
“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.
“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.
“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”
“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.
“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.
“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”
you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.
“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”
you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.
taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid
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Text
I don't think goyim properly understand the fear and change that the wave of antisemitism currently taking place in the wake of the October 7th massacre has induced in the Jewish community.
In a wide-lens view, Jews have become a 1000% more wary and introspective. This isn't limited to diaspora Jews--the headlines pouring out of Israel until October 7th have been of division, polarization, and conflict. Conflict over the 2018 Nation-State Law. Over Bibi's premiership. Over the judicial reform laws. Over the Orthodox Rabbinate. Over this. Over that.
But Israeli society is more unified than ever right now. The judicial reform laws were shelved shortly after the war began and the protests ended on October 8th. Some of it is the rally around the flag effect, yes, and will probably fade as time passes--politics never stops--but the era of Israelis being at one another's throats? Of forgetting that we are all one people and we are all under attack? Gone. It died on October 7th.
In the Diaspora, Jews are once again asking themselves the question--will I need to flee? Guys, a fifth of Gen Z--my generation, that I attend university with--believes the Holocaust was a myth. Two thirds of them think Jews are oppressors. That's terrifying. And the reason we don't take comfort in people saying, 'They're kids with no political power.' is that that won't be true forever. Today's slacktivists who casually say that Israel has no right to exist are tomorrows lawmakers. They will grow up and set policy.
We don't know if they'll grow out of it. I pray to HaShem that they will, but how do I know if they will?
And that's tomorrow's world. Today's world is already bad enough. I don't wear my Star of David necklace to the self-defense classes I've started taking because being surrounded by burly dudes learning how to fight people better isn't a great place to potentially learn that I'm surrounded by antisemites.
Jews--in the year 2024--are being doxxed, seen their homes and synagogues vandalized and threatened, walk past Palestine protests screaming for the death of Zionists, and antisemitism has increased in the United States alone by more than 400%. It's worse elsewhere--Turkish shop owners have been barring Jews from their stores and France has seen antisemitic incidents increase by 1000%. Jews have been leaving social media sites like Tumblr, Reddit, Tik Tok, and Twitter in droves, chased away by the constant, unceasing stream of anti-Jewish hate.
Gentiles need to understand that their words and actions have very real consequences. Jews are not dumb. We're not imagining things. We aren't 'getting our just desserts'. Our fears are grounded not only by historical context but by our current, everyday, lived realities. To gentiles, reading 'antisemitism has gone up by x percent' is a factoid. To us, it is a serious threat and a deep concern.
EDIT: I'm tired of pro-Palestine people sharing this post and using it to back their agenda. You are not welcome to use my experiences to suit your agenda. I am a Zionist! This post is Zionist! Stop taking my words from me and using it against my people.
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crxss01 · 10 months
Note
Request
I feel like Miles 42 would be a boob lover, like he would come cuddle me every other night. Him laying between my legs, head on my chest, hands squeezing my boobs like squish mallows..all night. They would be his comfort pillows. I have a ds ‘n I feel like they’re useless, still I’d let him put them to use.
Please write it<3
— Comfort Pillows
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ miles loves using your boobs as stress balls and as pillows too.
warnings ✧˖ ° reader has boobs, squeezing + touching of boobs, cuddling, miles being a boobs guy.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ bonito: handsome/or pretty boy, princesa: princess.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i honestly had doubts about writing this but decided to because idek, but i hope you enjoy!
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"bonito, really?" you shook your head in amusement as you felt his hands go under and up your shirt.
miles looked up from where he was laying on your chest and gave you a smirk, "you know i love my girls, have to show them some love."
you rolled your eyes at his stupidity, but let him touch your boobs through your bra. apparently that wasn't enough for miles because he sat up from his position between your legs. "up." he said.
"nuh huh." you said, burying your head further in the pillow, closing your eyes and spreading your arms and legs. "i'm so comfortable right now, i won't move. if i do that then the comfortable would go away."
"you and your weird ass." miles said, and you couldn't see his actions due to your eyes being closed. "come on, princesa. sit up for me so i can take off your bra."
“nope,” you answered again and made a move to get more comfortable when two big hands took hold of your waist and started pulling you up to a sitting position. your eyes flew open and you grabbed onto the covers of the bed, trying to stay down. “stop!” you yelled at him.
“don’t be dramatic, and stop yelling.” he told you. “my mom will think i’m killing you or some other bullshit.”
he won the tug war and had you sitting in front of him in no time, you crossed your arms, protecting your chest and pouting. “you’re not touching me now.” you huffed.
“bet.” miles arms came around your back, skillful fingers going under your top and undoing the hook of the bra. “now come on, mami. hands off my price.”
“bye, go away.”
he sighed, taking your arms and pulling while you resisted just to annoy him but he won anyway. “now…” he took the bra off without taking off your top since it was loose, it was easy to do.
miles pushed you back to laying down with his head on your chest and this time one hand under your top, gently massaging the soft ball like it was the world’s best stress ball. it didn’t matter to him if they were big or small, he loved the feeling of it in his hand.
“you know, i would love to suck on t—”
“you better not finish that sentence.” you warned.
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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buckyalpine · 5 months
Text
Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.
You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.
Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.
A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.
“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.
As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.
"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.
"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-
You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.
"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.
"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-
"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-
"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"
You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.
"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.
"You did it, you did amazing mama"
-
After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.
Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.
Eventually he can't help himself.
He has to ask you out.
And he does.
3 years and a wedding later
You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.
"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.
"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.
"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.
"Sleep tight little man"
"Night, daddy"
-
Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.
"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.
"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.
"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.
You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.
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mondaymelon · 4 months
Note
first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3
₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader
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( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )
[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]
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"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"
CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.
"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?
Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"
He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"
As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"
"Tartaglia."
The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"
The world itself seems to stop.
Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.
"...Love?"
"Mhm?"
"I- I thought you-"
"If it's with you, I'm okay."
Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.
A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.
"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ
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"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"
WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.
Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.
Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.
And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.
"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.
He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
"No."
"Go get something to eat?"
"No."
"Visit the... House of Daena?"
"No."
"Shall we feed the finches?"
A slight pause. "...No."
"Then... let's hold hands?"
He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.
"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.
"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.
"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"
Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."
D...Did it really?
"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ
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"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."
ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-
As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.
"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.
"Arle, did something happen?"
She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.
"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"
She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."
"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."
"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"
Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"
"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.
"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ
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"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"
FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"
It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-
"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.
Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."
"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"
"Appreciate" indeed.
Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"
"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."
She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.
"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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leclercings · 26 days
Text
Je hebt mijn hart | Carlos Sainz
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Verstappen!Reader
Summary: Carlos is your schatje...
A/N: this was for a request, hope you guys like it!
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You sit beside a sleeping figure. There are beeps of the machine and lines indicating your lover's constant heartbeat.
You heave a sigh of relief as you wipe your tears.
Carlos has been admitted to the hospital for appendicitis and you haven't left his side for a second, no matter how many times his parents and your parents have told you to get some rest.
You were terrified while he was in surgery. Although the chances of complication in a surgery of appendicitis are extremely rare- that isn't to say that they aren't there. You know it well, having studied medicine.
You want him to wake up as soon as possible. Your eyes are droopy and head is heavy, almost falling asleep. But you hear slight movement and jolt awake.
“Carlos.” You smile at him as he opens his eyes.
“Schatje,” you gently stroke his hand as he squints.
“Where am I? Do I know you?”
Carlos stares at you intently. Your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest.
You're worried. What happened? Why can't he recognise you? It was a surgery of the abdomen, not the brain. Is he still under the influence of the anesthetic?
“Schatje, schatje. I will call the doctor.”
Just as you get up, he pulls you back.
“I was just kidding.”
He starts laughing. You feel like hitting him because he scared the shit out of you. Of course you won't hit him…
You'll wait till he gets better. The mere thought makes you chuckle. You pull yourself back to reality as Carlos groans.
“How are you?” You ask him, as he loosens his grip on your forearm.
“It is a little painful but not as before.”
You nod.
“You haven't slept in a while, have you?” Carlos stirs in the bed, and the machines start beeping.
“You're supposed to rest, mijn liefje. Don't move.”
You tuck him back inside the blanket and check the monitors. All good.
“I feel better now, Y/N. You should go sleep, mi amor.” He holds your hand gently, making circles at the back of it. The feeling is comforting, although it should be the other way around, but you don't care. You’ve missed him. Missed his touch.
“Carlos! You're awake.” Your conversation is interrupted as his parents enter.
“Y/N, you should go get some rest,” his mom tells you as you stifle a yawn. “We’ll take care of him, don't worry.”
“I'll go in a bit, is that fine?” You reply and she nods at you.
“It reminds me of the time that I had appendicitis,” his dad sits beside him, where you were sitting previously. You and his mom occupy the sofa.
“Won't it be cool if he does an Instagram post as a throwback?” You laugh at your silly idea.
The two of them stop talking and look at you.
“Honey, I think that's a great idea!” His dad smiles at you, and Carlos copies him.
“Sainz 2, Appendicitis 0,” you say, before another yawn.
*****
It's race day. Carlos, your boyfriend, without a job for next year, and now, a missing appendix. It's an important day for your lover. He's back in shape despite the pain, despite the fact that the doctor told him not to exert.
You sigh. He won't listen to anyone. He says that he has a point to prove- the fact that he's worth staying in this fast paced F1 world.
A world where careers can shatter in a millisecond.
You're torn between the Ferrari and Red Bull garage. You decide to hang out at the Red Bull garage.
“I'm worried, Max.” You tell him as he prepares himself for the race.
“Don't be. He'll be fine. Go be with him. I'll be fine too.”
“Good luck, Max.” You hug your brother as you walk towards the Ferrari garage.
A few mechanics give you the side eye as they watch you coming from the Red Bull garage. You haven't made your relationship public yet.
Carlos is sitting with his race engineer, going through some last minute instructions. He spots you and gives you the biggest smile ever.
“Good luck,” you mouth to him. You wish you could hug him, or just reassure him. But you can't. If people get to know about your relationship with Carlos, chaos will ensue. So you've kept it pretty lowkey, for a while now.
The race is intense. You're sitting at the Red Bull garage with Christian, and you can sense his disappointment in the third lap.
Max is obviously disappointed. So is everyone inside the garage. You have mixed feelings- struggling between Max’s DNF and Carlos’s lead.
You hide your pride as the race continues. The last lap has a lot going on, but when it all ends, you cheer from within.
Carlos has won. It's a 1-2 Ferrari win and a McLaren at the 3rd position.
You let out a big cry of happiness and everyone starts staring at you. Christian shakes his head and Max and Kelly start laughing.
You smile in embarrassment.
*****
You're sitting at the dinner table. Max is on your right and Carlos on the left. You've booked a table at a posh restaurant. Kelly and Penelope have joined too.
“Schatje, have some more curry please,” you tell Carlos, before serving some curry to him.
“Congratulations Carlos. You had a good race today,” Max speaks. That's the thing you love about Max- no matter how he was earlier, no matter how competitive is F1 as a motorsport, Max will always support you and your relationship with Carlos.
“Thank you Max. I'm sorry you had a DNF today.”
“That's what life is.” Max responds back.
“Mien liefje.. do you want something else?”
“Mien liefje,” Max laughs. Kelly nudges him. “Looks like someone is in love.”
“You and your never ending saga of cute nicknames for Carlos…” He speaks, making you blush.
Carlos smiles at you.
You feel conscious throughout rest of the dinner.
Max, Kelly and Penelope give you your space with Carlos, leaving a little bit early.
“I'm glad you won today,” you say, taking a bite of your tiramisu.
Carlos stares at you in amazement.
“What, is there something in my teeth?”
“No. I just wanted to say thank you for always supporting me.”
“Of course, Carlos. Always.”
As you walk back to your hotel, it's almost 2 am in the night. The walk back is peaceful. You intertwine your hand with his. A warmth spreads across your entire body- a warmth of love and joy.
You're flying back to your home tomorrow. You'll miss Carlos a lot, but you have a job to take care of. And the best part about him is that he understands.
You stand in front of the hotel. You're both staying at separate hotels. Carlos insisted on dropping you first and then going back to his hotel.
He softly kisses you.
“Je hebt mijn hart.”
“What does that mean?”
“You have my heart.”
“Je hebt mijn heart,” he repeats, before kissing you again.
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hopesworlld · 1 month
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౨ৎ only you, my girl, only you, babe
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౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — you can't leave anakin, you just can't, he won't survive it
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 1k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, jealous!ani, arguing, crying, using sex as a means to make up, smut ( dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of oral f receiving ) think that’s all !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — he's so whiny, i want him
part two part three masterlist
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"baby, please, just tell me what you were doing talking to him," anakin pleaded, his face tight with tension as he followed you though your shared apartment.
"ani, he's my friend i've known him since uni," you groaned, entering your bedroom, "we literally lived together for three years why are you being like this?" you questioned, turning to face him with narrowed eyes, watching as anakin's face dropped, he pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding down as he pouted at you.
“i saw how he looked at you, how he hugged you…” he said and you shook your head, frustration welling in your chest as you watched anakin’s hands twitch, lips trembling.
“oh my god, anakin, he literally just hugged me, we are good friends you are being ridiculous,” you told him, turning around and walking over to your wardrobe, pulling out some more comfortable clothes to wear around the house, you loved anakin with every fiber of your being, but you couldn’t help but feel trapped when he got like this, so possessive and needy, acting as though everyone in the world was against him.
“baby, you know i’m not mad at you,” anakin began but you span around, eyes hard and voice like ice as you spoke to him.
“you’re not?” you spat, “oh, you aren’t mad at me for absolutely nothing? well thank you, anakin, i really fucking appreciate it,” anakin’s eyes went glassy, sniffling wetly, gaze falling to his feet.
“baby, i’m sorry,” anakin whimpered, tears rolling down his golden cheeks, “please don’t be mad at me,” he begged but you simply ignored him, you felt bad, you always did when anakin cried, he was such a sensitive soul, so desperate for approval, for your love, he had never felt like enough, never felt that he deserved you and it made your heartache but you couldn't keep feeding into his jealousy.
you went about doing what you were doing, tugging your shirt off and replacing it with a soft t-shirt, an old one you had, had since you were a teenager belonging to your father, before tugging down your skirt and slipping on a pair of shorts, the motions were soothing to you as you listened to anakin cry, something to distract yourself.
“baby,” anakin whined, “don’t ignore me, please, please, talk to me,” he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burning his wet face into your neck, “i love you, i love you so much, please don’t ignore me,” you sighed, relaxing slightly in his hold. “baby?” he whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the side of your neck, paying extra attention to your sweet spot just bellow your jaw.
“ani,” you said gently, “you can’t keep doing this,” you scolded lightly, heart clenching when anakin sniffled, clinging to you tighter, arms a secure weight around your hips.
“i know, baby, i’m so so sorry, i don’t wanna hurt you, please, just don’t leave me,” he begged and you could feel his cock hardening against your back as he began to grind on you, short little thrusts that brought a swell of heat into your stomach.
“ani,” you sighed, “i’m not gonna leave you, angel, you just need to stop getting so upset every time i talk to another guy, i only want you,” you told him and anakin melted.
“yea?” he asked you, beginning to grind against you harder, little gasps falling from his lips, “only me?” he whispered.
“yes, ani, you i promise,” you said, a small groan escaping you when anakin pressed himself harder against you, cock brushing against your clothed cunt, “fuck, ani,”
“am i making you feel good, baby? tell me, baby, do you like it?” he asked, rutting harder against you, exhaling harshly against the back of your neck, he was still whimpering, tears flooding down his cheeks as he pleaded with you.
“yes, so good, ani,” you promised him as he began to tug at your shorts with needy hands, pulling them down along with your panties exposing you cunt to the cold air, you shuddered but it wasn’t long before anakin was sinking his fingers into your sopping heat, opening you up for him. you hissed at the sensation, cocking your hips back against him.
“i’m the only one that can make you feel like this,” anakin said, “only me, promise me,” he begged, thrusting his fingers harsher, and you moaned at the stimulation tilting you head back to rest on anakin’s shoulder.
“i promise, angel, only you can make me feel this good,” you stammered out and anakin sobbed, you heard him shuffling behind you, pulling his cock free from his jeans, he hardly gave you a second to think before he was tugging his fingers from your pussy and replacing them with his cock, he didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you harshly, groaning at the feeling of your cunt cleanching around his throbbing cock.
“baby, oh fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” anakin told you, gently pressing at your back so that you were bent over, one hand secured around your waist holding you in place while the other was holding you down, you hissed at the new position, the angle allowing anakin to sink deeper into you, cock head brushing against your cervix.
“fuck, ani, just like that,” you praised and anakin’s hips jolted, “doing so good for me, just like that,” you said, eyes fluttering shut as anakin continued to fuck into you with needy whines, chasing his relief as well as yours, one of your hands fell to your clit, swirling your index finger around the bundle of nerves in a figure eight pattern, you knew anakin wouldn’t last long when he was worked up like this this and it would break him if you didn’t cum, last time that had happened he had eaten you out until you were sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks and hips shaking with overstimulation.
“fuck, baby, so wet,” anakin said, “god, this pussy was made for me, we fit so good together,” anakin told you, “no one else could get your pussy this wet, make you feel so good,” his words were becoming mindless blabber as he drew closer to his orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you, “mine, all mine,” he said, and you nodded along, mind becoming fuzzy from pleasure.
“yours, ani, all your’s,” you promised, cunt cleanching as you drew closer, the sensation of anakin pumping deep inside if you and the stimulation on your clit enough to send you over the edge.
“yes, yes, fuck, never leave me, never ever, never,” anakin commanded though his voice was squeaky, high pitched as you felt his hips stutter, “i’m gonna cum,” he cried out.
“that’s it, come for me, ani, wanna feel you cum, angel, fill me up,” you told him breathily, thrusting you hips back to meet him and anakin was gone, his thrusts were erratic before he spilled into your pussy, filling you up with his seed. you moaned, the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides enough to send you spiralling, a scream falling from your lips as you clenched around anakin’s cock, milking him of every last drop before going lax in his hold.
“i love you,” anakin whispered, “i love you so much,”
“i love you too, ani,” you replied, letting him tug you towards the bed, collapsing down together in a mess of limbs.
“don’t ever leave me, okay?” anakin said, and you nodded.
“never, i’m yours,” you promised.
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i kinda hate this but i wanted to write some whiny ani so hope you enjoyed !
tags: @johnbassplayercutie
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toorurs · 24 days
Text
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to love is to learn
synopsis: aventurine is still unexposed to the many concepts of this world. but that doesn't mean he won't try to get to know them if it's for you.
pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.0k | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, insecure aventurine, established relationship, my ass wrote this in an hour and its super late rn i just wanna upload this and my lazy ass did NOT proofread this + im on mobile so hell, kinda HELLA rushed ; ficlet
a/n: just the other day me and azul were talking about what body parts of aven would be sensitive and we got to his collarbone and azul said that he thinks that it'd be super evident so i pointed out that it might be cause he was used to starvation and barely ate even when he got to the ipc/had the chance to do so. SO I JUST HAD TO WRITE SMTH.
tags: @azullumi
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aventurine shudders under your touch. your nimble fingers trace across his collarbone, featherlight movements, touch so delicate, it makes him tremble.
the pads of your digits lightly dance across his clavicle, one finger turns into two. your index swiftly slides over the pale skin that separates the bone that lies underneath. while your thumb starts inching closer the neckline of his satin pajama, diving beneath. at that he can't help but flinch.
“oh god.” he laughs out. “someone's being touchy today.” his voice is filled with joy. hearing, seeing, knowing that aventurine has fun around you, makes you crave for more. his laugh is an intoxicating drug. something that you'll always long for, absorbing it until every part of your body is stained with the tantalising essence and puts you to your demise.
you don't stop your actions, instead continuing to glide your fingers along his delicate body. “sorry, for i couldn't help it!” a giggle escapes your mouth.
“i just thought about how pretty it is.” you let out a small hum.
“my collarbone? pretty, how come?” he's confused, what is the beauty you see within his body?
his body is fragile. it's a hollow shell he carries around. ugly and not worthy of your attention even less your admiration, abused and marked in burns. when the digits that he carries around like a sacred body part of his, roughly engraved on his neck, come in contact with any kind of substance, liquid or his own fingers. he's reminded of the mishap his body was or rather is in. how it was abused and dragged through the mud.
putting his calloused fingers around the tattoo, stings. the touch lingers like a nostalgic scent which still remains on an old piece of clothing, one that has never been washed so the smell never fades away. it burns up at the slightest touch. hurting just as much as when it was freshly inflicted onto his young body.
kakavasha doesn't even know what he looks like. the only person he sees in the mirror is aventurine. sure he walked past puddles of dirty rain back in his childhood, reflecting his younger self, but the images are vague and blurry. he doesn't know what kakavasha looks like and he probably never will.
and neither do you. the only thing you have in front of you right now is aventurine. a shattered soul that doesn't know where it belongs. his being consists of a thousand fragments, they're scattered thoughts that are similar to broken mirror shards.
they reflect the tales of his heart and reveal its greatest desire. mirroring those untold stories like the surface of the water. thoughts and wishes that are full of pureness, almost childlike.
the broken pieces that make up the man who's named aventurine long for a haven which he can call a safe space - a home. but on the other hand he thinks that he's not permitted to find such a place, that he's not allowed to stay, undeserving of it.
“no particular reason. i just like the way it stands out, it's easy to find and trace.” the words that roll off your tongue sting. they probably hurt as much as a paper cut you've received as a little kid, but it's not like kakavasha knows or is able to relate - he didn't get to grow up like the other children. but he can't blame you, you're oblivious to his past.
his body has gone through physical and emotional abuse. beat ups, labor or starvation. the reason why his collarbone is so evident, the face you adore is so slim, and his rips slightly poke through his body, is all because kakavashas hunger has never been satisfied and the dryness in his throat has never been quenched.
even after he put on the mask of the man who calls himself aventurine - a wealthy man, who’s a member of the ten stone hearts that makes more money than he spends, he's still reluctant when it comes to eating. of course he could buy all the delicacies that kakavasha never got to try - never even knew, but he hesitates.
the concept of chewing and swallowing the bits is still something aventurine can't befriend himself with. it's unfamiliar - he's not used to it, the feeling of a full stomach, what it's like to be satisfied after a meal. it's something foreign to him, a feeling he's not sure he'll ever get accustomed to.
he doesn't think he deserves to eat. to know what it feels like to be full, the rumbling that comes from his stomach is the one he grew up with is what brought him here. he fears that if he gets too comfortable with something or someone he'll forget who he is.
a lost soul that mourns after the past, but saved itself from the dark abyss, freeing itself. not allowing himself to get too close, always keeping everyone that comes near him at an arm's length. worrying he might grow too attached.
so why is he still here? here with you, chattering happily and conversing freely, he doesn't deserve it - he doesn't deserve you.
but is it wrong to be selfish for once? he knows the answer already: it is. but he can't help it, not when you coax him into this position, one which he can't leave, no matter how hard he tries.
“i love you.” you trace the letters along his neck, over the tattoo that is engraved on his skin.
you don't need a verbal answer to know that he feels the same way. perhaps, he himself hasn't realized it yet but he's conveyed his love for you many times already. just like now as he continues to lie in bed with you.
the both of you are oblivious, but that doesn't mean that either of you will stop in your tracks, turn back and leave. (even though he sometimes wishes to do so)
both satisfaction and love are two unfamiliar concepts for aventurine. but he'll try to get to know them. for the sake of you.
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© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
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lokis-army-77 · 25 days
Text
Premium Air
mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.1k
It's a few days after April Foos, Eddie isn't expecting you to pull a koke but you have something up your sleve.
Warning: noting! unless you count cursing
Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs and @lofaewrites
Masterlist
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You loved seeing the harmless little pranks that people would play on their significant others on social media and with April first already behind you, you knew Eddie wouldn’t suspect a thing. 
It was a bright Wednesday afternoon, you were at Robin's for a much needed girls day when you decided to put your little prank into action. 
"Hey, Rob, you wanna watch as I give Eddie a mini heart attack?" You ask as you wiggle into a more comfortable position on her couch.
"Oh my god, yes!" She excitedly shuffles over to you, leaning her whole body over your right side. 
You're both a giggling mess when you send the first text message. 
Hey, so my tire pressure light just came on, do I need to go have it checked?
It takes a few minutes but he eventually responds.
Is it still driving alright? 
Bring it to the shop when you get home from Robs, I'll fill it up before I leave work.
Yeah, it's driving just fine. The screen says it's my front passenger side tire.
You'll be fine to drive back home, I'll fill it up then, baby.
You leave it be for around thirty minutes as you and Robin think of what you should say next.
So Robin said I should go get it checked out and we were worried I wouldn't be able to drive all the way to your shop so I came to the one by her house.
I didn't know air was so expensive 😫. 
It was no more than a second later that your phone started to ring in your hands. Eddie's contact photo lighting up the screen. You swiped it away and you could feel Robin beginning to silently laugh 
Sweetheart, answer the phone.
Another call that you decline.
What do you mean expensive? Answer your phone!!!
Don't worry, Eds, the guy gave me a good deal! I think it's bc he thought I was pretty.
What do you mean by a good deal? Sweetheart, how much did you pay?
You and Robin can hardly contain your laughter. Tears are running down your faces. 
"I feel so bad, but it's so funny!" You cry. 
Robin nods along, "Don't, it's totally hilarious." She wipes her tears away and points at your phone, "Don't acknowledge those questions yet, say something about how he didn't notice the pretty comment."
You get to typing, fingers gliding over the keyboard.
Wow, I would have thought you'd be upset at another man...
Baby ,that is the last thing I'm worried about. HOW. MUCH. DID. YOU. PAY.
Well he said it was like premium air so it was on the more expensive end but apparently it won't seep out as fast as regular air.
You can see the read receipt and the three little dots as he begins to type. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as the typing stops and he calls you again only for you to ignore it once more. 
Robin is beside you, howling as she holds her stomach. "This is the best thing I have EVER witnessed in my life!"
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ANSWER YOUR PHONE. HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND? BECAUSE PREMIUM AIR ISN'T REAL
So the guy said it's usually 250 for all 4 but he said he'd give me a deal and give me all 4 for the price of 3... is that not how much it usually is?
You need to tell me what shop you're at. Are you still there? Put me on the phone with this fucking guy
Eddie, I'm not putting you on the phone with him.
Sweetheart, why in the world would you take your car to someone else??? I'm literally a mechanic. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FREE!! 
Are you mad at me?
No, I'm not mad at you baby. I just need you to put me on the phone with the shop owner or someone, anyone. Air in all 4 tires is never gonna be over like 5 bucks...
I told you I'd take care of it, why didn't you just listen 
You almost double over, laughing harder than before. You could tell you were stressing him out, that he was trying to keep from freaking out. 
"Oh my god!" You cackle, "I think it's time to break it to him or else he might actually have a heart attack or maybe an aneurysm. 
Eddie calls you one last time and this time, you answer, sushing Robin as you press the speaker button. 
"Thank fuck, Sweetheart, put me on the phone with the asshole that scared you." His face was gruff, the growl of irritation bringing a shiver lust down your spine. 
"Eddie, baby, calm down." 
"I'll calm down when I get you your money back," he huffs. You can hear the sounds of his shop muffled through the speaker. 
You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips when you make eye contact with Robin. 
"This is not funny," he stresses. 
The giggles continue to bubble up, "I know I know, but I can't help it. I love you so much."
"I love you too, now please let me talk to the guy, I really don't wanna ask again." 
Robin takes your phone at that point, clearing her throat and proceeding to do her best impression of a blue collar man.
"Hey, this is Rodger, at you just got pranked garage, how can I help you?"
"Yeah, you can help me, I-" Eddie stops mid sentence. 
You've got your hand covering your mouth as you try, and fail, to cover your chortles.
"Wait a second... Robin?" All the building anger in his voice disappears as he slowly realizes what's happening.
Robin begins wheezing as you grab your phone back, "We got you!" You gleefully exclam into the phone.
"We got you good!" Robing teeters back on her legs, almost falling from the couch.
You can hear the shaky sigh of relief fron the receiver on the other end. "Thank God. Baby you had me going crazy over here. I was about to drive to every garage in town to find you."
"I'm so so so sorry, baby. I really am but we didn't do anything for April fools like we usually do and I just knew you wouldn't be expecting this."
Eddie lets out the longest sigh of relief you've ever heard. "Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting too old for these pranks."
"You're 35." You deadpan.
"And it's all down hill from here."
You can't see it but you know he has a shit eating grin on and you roll your eyes. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."
"You better."
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lvlyghost · 7 months
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Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing
how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.
What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk
But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭
The Weight of the World
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.
A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕
Masterlist✨
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You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.
Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.
Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?
To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.
The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.
The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.
"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.
"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"
"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."
"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"
"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."
"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"
"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."
It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.
You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.
-
Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.
You.
The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.
Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.
You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.
You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.
The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.
The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.
It's all on him.
He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.
"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."
Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.
"Love..."
"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.
Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.
"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"
Shaking your head and biting down your lip.
"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."
"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."
"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."
You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.
"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"
He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.
"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."
"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."
A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.
"You took it off..."
"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."
"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.
"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.
"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.
You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.
"Yeah. We're still getting married."
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