#07.09.24 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andromedanisa · 2 months ago

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laki-laki bekerja seumur hidupnya.

aku pernah membaca sebuah kalimat yang ketika membacanya aku menangis, kalimatnya kurang lebih seperti ini, "laki-laki bekerja seumur hidupnya."

lalu setelahnya ada keterangan sebuah ayat QS. At-Taubah:105, "Dan Katakanlah: "Bekerjalah kamu, maka Allaah dan RasulNya serta orang-orang mukmin akan melihat pekerjaanmu itu, dan kamu akan dikembalikan kepada (Allaah) yang Maha Mengetahui akan yang ghaib dan yang nyata, lalu diberitakanNya kepada kamu apa yang telah kamu kerjakan."

itulah mengapa para wanita diperintahkan untuk taat dan berkhidmat kepada seorang suami. sebab laki-laki akan bekerja seumur hidupnya. sebab ia adalah seorang qawwam (pemimpin) bagi keluarganya. maka ia bertanggung jawab akan hal itu hingga akhir.

betapa melelahkannya dunia, namun ia harus berlelah-lelah menghadapi itu semua. seorang wanita sekaligus istri itu juga melelahkan dan semua orangpun akan merasakan kelelahan selama masih didunia. aku paham, sebab aku sendiri ketika sebelum menikah juga bekerja.

aku masih ingat betul betapa melelahkannya menjadi seorang pekerja. sekalipun pekerjaan menyita banyak waktu dikantor. memang bukan fisik yang lelah, namun hati, pikiran rasanya lelah sekali. setiap kali lelah hanya bisa berdoa agar Allaah menolongku dari kondisi yang demikian.

setelah menikah, aku menemukan jawaban atas doaku yang dulu pernah aku pintakan kepada Allaah. kini, begitu lapang dan tenang. maka benarlah fitrah seorang wanita adalah rumahnya. apresiasi kepada mereka para wanita yang bekerja ataupun yang memilih berkarir dirumahnya.

kini doaku lebih sederhana, "ya Allaah, kuatkanlah pundak para suami, para ayah, yang bekerja sebab Engkau perintahkan kepada mereka, berikanlah kemudahan atas segala urusan mereka, lancarkanlah rezeki mereka, bahagiakanlah hati mereka dengan keluarga yang menyayangi mereka, berikanlah surga kepada mereka yang bekerja mencari nafkah yang halal dan meninggalkan yang haram sebab mencintai keluarganya karenaMu."

oleh karena itu wahai diriku, banyak-banyaklah bersyukur kepada Allaah atas kondisimu saat ini. banyak-banyaklah meminta untuk keselamatan dunia dan akhiratnya, teruslah untuk mau tumbuh dan terus belajar menjadi seorang wanita yang tenang, wanita yang sholihah, wanita yang tau kapan harus bersikap kepada suami, wanita yang selalu menyenangkan hatinya,. teruslah berkhidmat dan taat kepadanya sebab Allaah telah memerintahkan itu kepadamu.

sejatinya para suami atau ayah itu mencintai keluarganya bukan sekadar ucapan manis saja, melainkan tanggung jawabnya hingga seumur hidupnya bekerja untuk memenuhi kebutuhan keluarganya. jangan banyak menuntut kepada makhluk, sebab hanya akan kecewa pada akhirnya.

berkhidmat, taat, dan patuh kepada suami adalah bentuk ketaatan kita kepada Allaah sebab Allaah yang memerintahkan akan hal itu. wanita dan laki-laki memiliki peran dan tanggung jawabnya masing-masing, dan tidak ada kedzaliman akan hal itu.

semoga Allaah mengkaruniahkan banyak-banyak kebaikan kepada para suami, kepada para ayah hebat di muka bumi ini. "ya Allaah, kumpulkanlah kami kembali bersama orang-orang yang kami cintai."

terimakasih untuk pembuktiannya, terimakasih untuk tanggung jawabnya, terimakasih untuk semua kebaikannya yang jauh sebelum aku memintanya. atasa kebaikan Allah kepada diri ini. dan aku bersyukur atas semua itu. semoga Allaah menjaga pernikahan kaum muslimin dimanapun berada dengan ketenangan, sakinah, mawadah, warahmah...

sudut ruang || 22.42 || 07.09.24

#tulisan #menulis #catatan #nasihat #wanita #kebaikan #perjalanan #syukur #rumahtanggamuda #sabar #laki-laki #pria #tanggungjawab #upaya #syukuryangmelangit

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redvexillum · 4 months ago

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A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.”

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing.

All for research, of course.

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–”

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.”

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean?

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary.

The definition of Mid was…

Below average.

Not good.

Mediocre.

Boring.

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being…

Being….

Boring.

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.

She was going to get so cancelled.

That he would make sure of.

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.

You should…go out and fuck someone.

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.

Everything about your life was the same.

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.

Retail therapy.

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from [email protected]

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.

Subject: (no subject) Dear Bitch, Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it. Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are. And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID. Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning. Fuck you. P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message?

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both.

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

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