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#Contact with the Black Organization
trixiegalaxy · 28 days
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asteralley · 1 year
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m26 you can't just include a scene where shinichi promises to ran that he'll come in-person if the situation is dire enough and then show conan holding the spare aptx antidote. and then NOT HAVE SHINICHI APPEAR IN THE MOVIE...........
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Can't change my mind that Black Hat would absolutely be anti-union and actively union bust among his employees
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opencommunion · 7 months
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incarcerated people are shutting down Alabama prisons and asking for your solidarity
Alabama prisons are the deadliest and most crowded prisons in the US. Their violence extends to gas chamber executions and illegal organ harvesting. The Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC) is currently facing two federal lawsuits: one for enslaving Black detainees by denying them parole and leasing out their forced labor and another for targeting strike organizers. ADOC rakes in more than $450 million annually in profits from forced labor, and that's not including the profits incarcerated people generate for private corporations such as McDonald's and Raytheon. In response to these abuses, and in particular the horrific beating of six handcuffed detainees by Lt. Edmonds at Donaldson Prison on February 22nd, the Free Alabama Movement (FAM) has organized a minimum 90-day statewide prison shutdown/work stoppage. They are calling on supporters outside the prison walls to show solidarity. If you're located in or around Alabama, show up to the protest at St. Clair Prison in Springville, AL on Saturday March 2nd. For rideshare coordination contact the Tennessee Student Solidarity Network on IG or by email: [email protected] "Outside support for us starts at the prisons. That's where we need people. Come to one of the protests, show your face, and tell us that you support us. That's how we know that you support us. Outside support is the first step." - FAM
Everyone in the US, call Donaldson Prison at (205) 436-3681 and ask them to fire Lt. Edmonds for his brutal violence against incarcerated people.
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redhotarsenic · 2 years
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I think that like. The first time J’ihwu let his voidsent take over his body it permanently fucked him up physically. And like. The events of shadowbringers are compounding onto that also
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headspace-hotel · 8 months
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Problems like climate change, where solving them requires millions of people to collectively work at hundreds of different solutions at once, are black holes for internal peacefulness because they give you a type of frustration where you alternately become bitter towards yourself or everyone around you. "If only I could work harder to fix the problem!" makes you exhausted, so you must become angry at others: "If only they cared about the problem!"
People who are already working on fixing climate change need to convince more people to work on it. And a popular thing is to share writings that describe how doomed we all are if climate change is not fixed, how terrible everything will be because of climate change, and how quickly all the treasures of our world are being lost.
There is a particular understanding of human behavior that is being accepted here without thinking about it hard enough. Popular news media shows headlines with terrible prophecies, written that way in hopes of getting the attention of otherwise disinterested people, who will then be "motivated" to fix climate change.
The trouble is that fear is no good for motivating thoughtful, patient, steady commitment to solving a problem. Fear is made to cause an organism to avoid things that might harm it. It creates a brief and explosive pulse of action where the organism's energy pours out as it instinctively, thoughtlessly reacts to escape the danger as fast as possible.
It's silly to blame people for avoiding thinking about climate change. The point of an organism responding to stressors is to avoid them. Oftentimes, the only tool people are presented with is personal choices about what products to buy, which inevitably is horribly frustrating and stressful, since a person will frequently be coerced by their situation into buying a certain product, and even if they don't they see others doing it all the time.
Relentless exposure to imminent threats that cannot be escaped causes Trauma, which severely impacts a person's ability to be resilient to stressors.
I think there is definitely a type of trauma associated with being constantly aware of the destruction of the environment and feeling helpless to do anything about it, especially since we as humans have a deep need for contact with other living things and aspects of the natural world, such as trees, water, flowers, and animals—a need that is often totally denied and treated as merely a Want or a hobby meant only for certain people who enjoy particular activities, like Hiking or Gardening.
We need to expand our minds on how this disconnection can hurt a human being. Imagine if a child's need to be loved by their caregivers, a person's need to be loved by their friends and family, was treated as a desire for indulgence or luxury, or a certain use of free time!
Yes, yes, one person has a condition that makes it hard to walk up hills, another doesn't like the bright sunshine, another is allergic to the grass or fungal components of the outdoor world, but WE ARE PART OF THE FAMILY OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH and WE EXIST IN SYMBIOSIS WITH THE ENVIRONMENT WHICH TAKES CARE OF US. Who showed you what beauty was, who taught you to feel peace and relief inside you in the form of a caressing breeze and rustle of leaves, who gave you awe and wonder at seeing the stars or the mountains? Where does every delicious food come from but the soil teeming with creatures? Isn't the most perfectly sweet berry grown from a plant, nurtured by the soil and pollinated by the bugs? Don't you feel delight at seeing a springy carpet of moss, a little mushroom, or a tiny bird? Think of all that the trees give us. Whose breath do you breathe? Whose body frames your home?
The writings of Indigenous writers such as the book by Mary Siisip Genuisz I am reading right now show me that the other life forms are our family. They take care of us and provide for us, and they would miss us if our species disappeared. Isn't that a powerful, healing fact? I think everybody is so enthusiastic about the book Braiding Sweetgrass because it is a worldview that those of us coming from the dominant colonizer culture are straight up ravenous, starving to death for.
Maybe, I think to myself, humans can experience a kind of trauma from being deprived a relationship with their Earth, just as they would experience trauma from being deprived relationships with other humans.
I really believe that it hurts us to be surrounded by concrete instead of soil, to see a majestic tree cut down on a whim without any justice possible, to see wild animals mostly in the form of mangled corpses on the roadside, to have poison sprayed everywhere to kill the insects that life depends on, to hear traffic and lawn mowers and weed whackers instead of birds and flowing water.
We KNOW that this is physically bad for our health, the stifling, polluted, and stressful environments of a civilization that doesn't know the ways of the plants, but I think it's a kind of moral injury too, right? To see a beautiful field turned into a housing development of ugly, big, expensive houses—no thought given to the butterflies and sparrows and quail of the field? To see a big old tree cut down, a pond full of frogs obliterated and turned into a drainage ditch beside a gas station? They aren't just things, they are lives, and while expansion and profit and progress are "necessary," a nice old field of wildflowers or a pond full of frogs are a different kind of necessary. I remember feeling this as a child without words for it—the sheer cruelty of a world that is totally without reverence for the other creatures.
"They own the property, they can cut down the tree" "They bought the land, they can do what they want with it" <but it can also be wrong, and many people know this on some level, even though our culture doesn't provide us with the framework.
Fear could never give people the motivation to fix climate change. Constant fear of what will happen in the future forces a person to protect themselves from the relentless stress by shutting it out entirely or developing apathy.
A fear based argument for fixing climate change either causes a worldview of nature with no bond of kinship at all, based on the physical and practical dependence on Nature as a "resource," or forces people to experience their kinship with Nature only through grief.
Fear tells us that we want to live—it does not tell us WHY to live. If a person tries to live on fear alone, they will eventually find the desire to live burdensome and painful in itself. I see this emerging on a society wide scale in the USA, feeding on influences from the Christian evangelicalism that sees the Earth as something already sullied and worthless, to be thrown away like a dirty tissue, and on the looming monolith of nuclear winter that gave our parents recurring nightmares as children.
If you go to r/collapse on Reddit (don't do that) you will see a whole community of people who cope with the threat of climate change by fantasizing about it, imagining it as a collective punishment for all humanity and a cathartic release from the present painful situation.
We cannot learn to live without seeing the reason for living. We cannot save the Earth without loving it. We cannot heal nature without caring for it. In order to collectively take action against climate change, we must be moved by something other than fear—and that something is love. Not just love of the outdoors as an activity, but love of the Earth as something that loves us.
The dominant Western culture cannot borrow Indigenous land stewardship techniques as though they are just one climate resilience strategy, without being also willing to change its dreadfully impoverished way of viewing human relationships with Nature.
What right have we to think, "Huh, maybe those guys were on to something with the multi-level polyculture systems and controlled burns" while still thinking humans are nothing but a disease on the Earth, and that Earth would be happy to be rid of us? The sustainable ways of using the land practiced traditionally by cultures who have lived in relationship with their ecosystems for many generations work because humans can exist in mutualistic symbiosis with the life forms around them. We care for them. They care for us.
I know for a fact that plants seek relationships with us, and I was taught by them to see how interconnected everything really is, and how I was made to be a caretaker of my ecosystem. I was, a few years ago, just as I describe above. Too scared and pessimistic about the future of nature to bother loving it, and because of this, I could not realize my niche in the ecosystem. It felt for many years like I could do nothing—i believed in climate change, but I felt hopeless, so I put it out of my mind. But when I began to cultivate a love and reverence for the sad, scraggly, beaten-down fragments of Nature around me, everything changed. So much became possible.
I am still learning and exploring, trying to open my mind to ideas totally different than the ones I knew growing up, paying close attention to every plant and learning its ways. And it stuns me to think—some people write about climate change without this process.
The author of the book "The Uninhabitable Earth" (a scary book about how doomed the Earth is because of climate change) says in the beginning of the book that he is not very much of a nature lover. You fool, love is our most powerful evolutionary adaptation!
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envy-of-the-apple · 3 days
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Fun Sized
Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 
(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)
The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 
You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 
He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 
The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 
Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 
When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 
It was silent for a while, and then you said: 
"Do you like sweets?" 
That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 
He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 
You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 
Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 
"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 
It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 
And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 
It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 
"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 
You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 
"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 
You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 
"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 
He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 
"What?" He asks, "Why not?"
"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 
"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 
"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 
You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 
"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 
He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 
"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 
"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 
"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 
"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 
"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 
"I like my men a little taller." 
He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 
He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 
You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 
"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 
"Hi." He smiles. 
You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 
"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 
He grins wider, and you relax. 
He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 
"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 
You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 
He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 
"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 
He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 
"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 
"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 
"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 
You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 
Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 
"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 
He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 
Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 
You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 
The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 
You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 
The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 
Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.
There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.
You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 
"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 
You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 
He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 
"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 
You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 
"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 
"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 
"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 
He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."
He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 
"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 
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harryspet · 2 months
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homestead [4] r.cameron
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[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, jj maybank x reader, kidnapping, DUBCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!
word count: 3.6k
In which you can't escape from your inner turmoil, even in your dreams.
homestead masterlist
Tending to the entire house was hard work. You thought you’d be bored sooner than you actually ended up. It seemed there was always more to do with all the cooking you were doing and the laundry that Rafe went through. Sometimes, you imagined adding the demands of feeding a newborn every few hours or chasing a toddler around to your already packed routine. The thought was daunting, but you had signed up for it, knowing it would be difficult yet now you were relieved you wouldn’t be financially struggling through it.
Your growing belly had started to interfere with your daily chores. It was harder to breathe when you exerted yourself, and frequent trips to the bathroom were now the norm. Rafe never complained when the house wasn't perfect, but you knew it was because he was trying to regain your trust after losing control in the nursery. He wanted you to come to him willingly, but you weren’t mentally ready for that. When Rafe did touch you, he restrained his darker impulses, and while you never enthusiastically said “yes,” you found yourself denying him less and less.
When Rafe started leaving his bedroom unlocked, you knew it was safe to start cleaning it. You mostly used this time to snoop around. You weren’t sure what contact he kept with the outside world. He made sure you weren’t privy to the details of his business, and he never called his family when you were around. 
His room was like yours in many ways, yet distinctly different. You felt a more masculine presence than the rest of the farmhouse. The walls were a deep charcoal gray, and the bed had a thick, woolen blanket that looked inviting enough, but the large wooden bed frame was imposing. Heavy, dark curtains framed the windows on either side of the bed, and there was a seating area on one side of the room with a leather armchair next to a couple of shelves containing a few trinkets and books. Rafe’s closet contained your most considerable curiosity, a substantial black safe. 
The way Rafe opened the house to you was purposeful, he wanted you to feel welcome here, but he couldn’t deny he had secrets. You knew at least a few of those secrets were inside that safe. 
Every time you went inside the closet to put away Rafe’s laundry or organize his clothes, you thought about the years that had passed and everything you didn’t know about him. You were in one of those moments, standing in Rafe’s closet, when you heard the shower start in the connecting room. Rafe had appeared from an afternoon in the fields. You weren’t sure if he hadn’t realized you were there, but he’d already started undressing, his chiseled frame glistening with sweat and dirt. 
“Hey,” You whispered, not wanting to startle him, but he was already grinning at the sight of you.
“Hey, Honey,” He started to undo his belt, and you felt trapped, most of his figure blocking the view of the bathroom doorway, “How you doing?”
You shrugged like you usually did, “Fine, I was just …hanging up your dress shirts.”
“Nice,” He slid off his pants, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t avert your eyes; maybe because you felt yourself starved from any other human connection expect Rafe’s, “I’ll be gone for longer than usual tomorrow.”
“Cameron Development business?”
He didn’t confirm nor deny, “You mind picking out my clothes? You have a better eye for colors and stuff, you know?”
“Sure,” You took that as your opportunity to stop staring at the figure that seemed to be growing even more pristine as the manual labor toned his muscles. You resented it slightly, feeling less and less like yourself as your child grew inside of you. 
The closet was a strange mix of outdoor clothing and high-end suits, a signal of the true duality of Rafe’s life. Thanks to you, it was more organized now, and you spent time scanning the rows of clothes. You chose a tailored navy suit, thinking of his muscular build and the deep blue of his eyes. You paired it with a crisp, white dress shirt and a tie with a subtle, sophisticated pattern of navy and silver. Completing the look, you picked out his polished, black leather dress shoes and matching belt. 
You hadn’t realized just how much time you spent mulling it over. As soon as you laid it out on top of the closet’s chaise lounge chair, Rafe stood beside you with a towel wrapped around his waist. 
“I’m impressed,” He said, leaning over to peck your cheek. 
“Thanks.”
“Stay with me in my room tonight,” Rafe said, his fingers trailing down from your shoulder to your arm. He moved in closer, leaning down to kiss below your ear, “Missed you all day.”
“Rafe,” You sighed as he placed a kiss lower on your neck. In saying his name, you said a million different things. It was a warning that you might resist, that you loved his touch but hated how much you did. 
“I gave you your own space because of your …condition. But after the baby comes, this is going to become our room. I want you to get comfortable here.”
Again, it felt like he was asking the world of you. You imagined laying next to him night after night and him rolling over, taking what he wanted from you anytime he liked. When you thought about it for a moment longer, it wasn’t much different than how things were now. 
“I…I wanted to ask you something,” You placed a hand on his chest and he placed his larger one over yours.
“Yeah?”
“Now that I’m in my third trimester, I’ve been thinking more about, you know, giving birth,” You found it hard to meet his eyes, but you did your best, especially as they started to narrow at you, “With me being here, I guess I don’t know what my plan is anymore.”
“Don’t worry, Honey,” Rafe said, “You think I don’t have a plan?”
“I didn’t know how far we were from the hospital-”
You felt his heart quicken underneath your touch, “A hospital is like, not even Plan C, it’s Plan E. You’ll do it here. People do home births all the time.”
Your face fell quickly, and you pulled your hand from him, “You’re not serious.”
“I’ve been doing my research. As long as we have the proper people involved and the right equipment, it can work!”
“It’s my first pregnancy, Rafe! I want a real hospital with lots of nurses and a real doctor. I want an epidural, and I want my baby to have immediate medical care if he needs it. You’re crazy!”
“It’s not happening.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cursed, your temper flaring. He grabbed your wrist, keeping you from stepping away, “Get away from me!”
“Calm down,” Rafe grabbed both of your arms, pinning you in front of him, “This is why I didn’t fucking bring it up.”
“Let go of me,” You gritted your teeth, “Please.”
“You have to trust me. I can handle this.”
“I don’t want you … I don’t want just you to handle everything,” you replied, trying to find your calm, knowing you might set him off pretty soon. “Please, just—we have to be able to discuss this more. If you need reassurance that I won’t run or tell anyone what happened, then I will do whatever. I care about the baby more than myself.”
“I wouldn’t put you or the baby in harm's way.”
“I know,” you lied.
“Then don’t imply that I would.”
 “Can you just be open-minded about this?”
His eyes held a lot of emotions, but he nodded. As if each of you were frightened of escalating each other further, you pulled away from each other. 
“I want to sleep in my bed; I toss and turn so much, and my pillow-”
“Go ahead, I don’t give a shit,” Rafe crossed his arms, giving in so quickly that your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t waste the opportunity, scurrying off as quickly as your legs would take you. 
You didn’t see Rafe for the rest of that night and were grateful he wasn’t around the next day, either. 
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“I like the name Kai,” you said, looking up, your head resting on top of someone’s warm lap, feeling the sun for the first time in a long time. “It means sea in Hawaiian. If they grow up here, they have to like the ocean.”
“I was thinking something edgier,” you heard JJ say, his gaze also moving toward the beautiful sky above. Lush, rolling fields surrounding you, “Maybe like Talon or Blaze? Something cool so, you know, the other kids don’t pick on ‘em.”
“No way,” She shook your head, giggling, “That is exactly the type of kid someone would pick on.”
“Fine …Kai. I don’t dislike it,” JJ seemed to ponder the name longer,.
You sat up from his lap, finally gazing at your handsome boyfriend. “I like it. We don’t have to pick one now, but … I’m just saying.” 
The two of you were sitting on top of a plaid blanket you didn’t recognize, and you didn’t recognize what part of The Cut you were in, either. JJ must’ve surprised you for a date. A cheap picnic was always up his aisle, and you never cared for fancy dates. 
“I still can’t believe there’s going to be a little Maybank,” you said, reaching out to touch his blonde, windswept hair. “I mean, I already love him. It makes me think my Dad must’ve never felt this way about me.”
He touched your bump, and you felt like you were filled with happiness. Everything was right. Things would be challenging, but at least you’d have each other. 
“My parents, too,” the words were solemn, but you felt the opposite, “It’s their loss.”
Neither of you had the families you deserved, but you could provide that happiness to Kai . . . or whatever name ended up suiting your angel. 
“Picking a name is hard. What if we look at him, and he just doesn’t match the one we chose?” You wondered. 
“Then we change it. He could have no name for all I care. As long as he’s healthy.”
You brought your lips to his and melted into him. Strong arms wrapped around your back as he deepened the kiss further. You were at home. 
When you opened your eyes again, breathless from the kiss, you knew you weren’t home at all. Tears filled JJ’s ocean eyes and the sky turned a darker blue. 
“Have you asked Rafe what he thinks about the baby’s name?”
“Wha-” Your lips parted, the air growing from warm to humid. A storm was brewing above that field of flowers. Now that you glanced around, those flowers were just weeds. 
“You should ask him.”
“Why would I ask Rafe, JJ?”
“Why not? He won. He gets you. He gets the baby.”
“He didn’t win. I just …” It came to you then. JJ never got to feel your pregnant belly. He never knew you were having a boy. How could you feel connected to him from behind the glass in the visiting room? “I-I’m going to figure this out.”
“You’re giving in.”
“I’m not!” You pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. 
“You should’ve never let him in.”
“I’m sorry,” You were crying now, “I-I was so lonely, and… you left me!”
He turned his head, and you felt the rain starting to fall, “You’ll forget about me soon enough. He’ll never know me.”
“Please, you have to find us.” The words left your lips just as lightning struck. 
You screamed yourself awake. 
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You pushed around the baby potatoes on your plate, sitting across from Rafe at the dinner table. This entire week, you’d been struggling with eating. You felt the baby resting so high that you felt full quicker than expected. It didn’t help that you were facing the reality of giving birth inside this house and possibly never seeing the outside world again. 
You wanted nothing more than to meet your baby, but you felt yourself growing more complacent as your time here and the pregnancy went along. Realistically, how far could you get now that you were this pregnant? And how could you leave with a newborn?
“Is the baby moving a lot?” Rafe brought a piece of steak to his mouth, watching you intently as you played with your food. 
“Yeah … a little too much.”
“Hey, an active baby is a healthy one.”
You wanted to roll your eyes, “You read that in one of your parenting books?”
He winked at you, “Yes, I did.”
“I’m glad you know everything now.”
“You’d know more if you spent some of your free time reading. You haven’t touched a single one.”
“I’m exhausted lately, but thanks.”
Rafe nodded, “Well, makes sense; your body is changing so much. I should stay home more so I can take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself,” You said quickly. 
His fork and knife clanged against his plate as he placed them down. He leaned forward, eyes gazing sharply at you, “What’s gotten into you lately?”
“Rafe, don’t,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes now. 
“I’m serious …did I do something? Things have been going good.”
You went silent, “Can I be excused?”
“You cannot,” his fist slammed down on the table, making you jump. “I had our whole night planned out, starting with dinner. So you’ll finish dinner with me, we will go on a walk, and then stay in my bed tonight.”
“I don’t feel-”
“I don’t care. I don’t ask too much of you,” Rafe interrupted, “If you can act a little bit more pleasant, I’ll still give you the surprise I was planning.”
“A surprise?”
“You’re going to regret acting like a brat when you see it.” 
Your mouth parted in shock, but his deadly look had you crossing your arms and sitting back silently in your chair. 
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Rafe’s hands were intertwined with yours as you walked down an unfamiliar winding path. Cicadas had begun chirping, and the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the property. This was only the third time you’d physically left the house, Rafe allowing you earlier in your pregnancy to follow him around to meet all of the animals. 
Now, due to your swollen feet, you didn’t fit into the work overalls Rafe purchased for you or the boots. You walked in silence for the most part, imagining that Rafe was stewing with anger after your behavior at dinner. You cared little that you’d upset him; your mind was focused on repressing the nightmares you’d be having about JJ. 
After a few minutes, you arrived at a small, fenced-in area near one of the barns. Your curiosity was piqued when you saw a little pen set up in the middle of the grassy area. Inside was a bundle of fur that wiggled and barked excitedly as you approached. 
“C’mere, Honey,” He pulled you closer to the pin. The small dog was a golden brown color with long, shaggy ears, and you noticed a red gift bow tied around its neck. 
“A puppy?” You asked, leaning forward. The puppy stood up on its hind legs, and bounded over the pen's edge, tail wagging furiously. 
“She’s cute, right?” Rafe scooped the puppy quickly into its arms. 
“You bought a puppy,” you couldn’t help yourself, starting to pet its soft fur as Rafe held her close. “This is the surprise?”
“Part of it,” Rafe smiled, “You could use more company.” 
You couldn’t help but notice that your lips started to pull into a smile as the puppy tilted its head closer to you, licking at your cheek, “Oh … look at her,” You said, your heart swelling. Rafe had successfully subverted your expectations. Who were you to deny the cutest animal you’d ever seen? You should welcome any happiness your new world wanted to bring you, no matter how much regret JJ made you feel in your dreams, “You didn’t have to…”
“I want you to have her. She’s a cocker spaniel. Guy who sold her to me said they’re good with kids.” 
“I love her,” You spoke honestly, scratching behind her ears. 
“Look at her collar,” He gave you a suspicious look.
“Why?”
“Just look,” You hesitated but couldn’t imagine him playing a trick on you right now. 
After spinning the tiny collar around her neck, you found the second part of your surprise. Hanging on its collar was a ring with a gold band an a huge, oval-shaped diamond. You inspected it closer, not meeting Rafe’s eyes. Your heart was beating way too fast to look at him. You knew little about engagement rings, but you knew what you were looking at would be considered top-tier. 
“Here,” he said, placing the puppy back down in the pin and maneuvering its collar to free the ring. He held it out to you, and as you stood there, frozen, he took your hand. You didn’t pull away as he eased it onto your left ring finger, “I know we can’t have a traditional ceremony, but I just thought you might think this was special.”
Your lips parted, but Rafe shushed you, “You don’t have to say anything.”
Rafe’s eyes searched yours, waiting for any sign of acceptance. You looked down, the diamond catching the light of the setting sun.
“Let’s bring her inside,” Rafe suggested after a long moment. You nodded, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before lifting the puppy again. 
Rafe led you back to the house, and his words echoed in your head. What had he done to deserve your attitude? Things were going well. In exchange for caring for the house, you relax in a comfortable environment where your baby can grow peacefully. He’d bought you a gorgeous ring and a puppy to discourage your loneliness. Maybe you were just wholly ungrateful. 
You helped Rafe set up an area for her in the living room.
“She’s gonna need a name.”
“What do you think?” You asked him quietly. 
You resisted the idea of naming your baby without JJ, but maybe you could share this intimate, normal thing with Rafe. 
He propped his fist underneath his chin, thinking, and stared down at the dog, “Are you opposed to a human name?”
“I’m not opposed to anything.”
He seemed a bit surprised by your reaction, but he continued his thinking pose. 
“She’s gonna be really sweet, I can already tell. To me, she looks like a Lucy or like a Molly.”
“Molly is cute. Classic sounding,” You nodded, leaning down to pet her, “You’re so adorable. You need wittle pink hairbows, don’t you, Molly?” 
You heard him chuckle at your high-pitched tone, “It’s settled then. Welcome to the family, Molly.”
As the evening progressed and after you got plenty of puppy cuddles, Rafe escorted you upstairs. The atmosphere was different than the last time you were together there. It was softer and more intimate. He helped you out of your clothes, gentle and considerate of your bump. You didn’t let yourself overthink any longer for the night. 
Your body was so much different from when he first brought you here, yet Rafe’s eyes were hungrier than ever. You couldn’t feel vulnerable for too long because soon he was naked too and pressed against you. The touching, soothing words in your ear and the gentle hands on your belly were almost too much. 
When the time came, Rafe guided you on top of him. He kept you steady, supporting your body with his strong hands as you straddled his lap. That night, you controlled the pace, and the position allowed you to ease the discomfort your belly caused. He watched you like a fine painting hanging in a museum, and his hands never left your hips. 
“Take your time,” He grunted huskily, “You’re doing so good, Honey.”
You loved the praise. You basked in his words and his gaze. You wanted to feel like you were doing the right thing, that you would be a good Mom, and Rafe was always there to confirm that. Your head rolled back, lips parting, as your movements became more frantic and rapid. 
You lost your rhythm, the intensity bringing tears to your eyes.
“Good girl, Honey,” As you grew tired, Rafe moved your hips for you. Hands pressing into his thick chest, you whined, feeling him in the deepest parts of you, “Give Daddy all of it.” 
“Fuck, Rafe!” You cursed, shaking, and he groaned in response, “I’m coming.”
He moved your hips faster, the grinding motion sending you over the cliff towards your orgasm. You felt yourself tightening around him, and like a chain reaction, Rafe’s eyes closed tightly as his orgasm came, “Jesus, baby,” Hands still tight on your hips, he finished deep inside of you, but you’d reached the point of overstimulation now. 
You climbed off of him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He caught you in his arms, pressing his body into yours, “Thank you,” You heard him say in your ear, his voice raw with emotion, “Fuck, I love you so much.”
You nestled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the soft sheets beneath you. When you drifted off to sleep, you saw no raging storms, felt no overwhelming guilt, and JJ never appeared. For the first time in a long while, you slept peacefully, cocooned in the safety of Rafe’s love.
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A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!
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floral-ashes · 2 months
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I was asked why the moral panic around Algerian boxer Imane Khelif was so centred on trans people when there’s no evidence that she’s trans. I thought I’d share my thoughts publicly.
The reason is that, in many ways, transphobia isn’t about trans people, it’s about what trans people mean to ideologies of race and gender. The controversy about the Olympic boxers is linked to rising anxieties about the line between men and women becoming increasingly blurred in contemporary society. These anxieties are fuelled by right-wing movements who see rigid divisions between men and women as critical to maintaining white social, economic, and political control. Because trans people are seen as challenging the justification of gender norms and roles based on biology and reproduction, they’re targets of particularly intense hostility and violence. My colleague Blu Buchanan and I tracked that racial logic a bit more in depth in a truthout essay a few years ago. White supremacist ideologies are heavily invested in rigid gender norms and roles because they see them as necessary to white reproduction.
The moral panic about ‘gender ideology’ is about trans people, yes, but it’s also explicitly about cis men and women not conforming to gender ideals that see men and women as fundamentally different forms of life with different roles in a society organized around the nuclear family. Women have to act and look a certain way to be considered ‘really’ women, much in the way that gay men are deprecated as ‘not real men.’ This moral panic manifests in the disproportionate targeting of racialized women and especially Black women for not conforming to white ideals of femininity. This dynamic is only amplified in the context of elite sports given the pervasive association of athletic ability with masculinity, especially in contact and strength-based sports like boxing as opposed to, say, gymnastics.
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blood-smiles · 4 days
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 💌
You organized various assortments of products on shelves, placing each product perfectly, the name of the item fully on display,
While stepping back to admire your work you heard the squeaky shoes of a little kid, suddenly a small body crashed into your side and landed on the floor with a sickening crack,
“Jimmy! Jimmy! Oh my god! JIMMY!” The frantic voice of a woman called out, you instantly turned around, seeing the little boy wailing on the ground, his arm twisted in an uncomfortable direction,
You crouched down next to the child, trying to get him to calm down as you inspected his arm,
The same woman ran in your direction and pushed you off her child with a rough shove, tears welling up in her eyes,
“YOU! YOU DID THIS TO MY CHILD!” She shrieked, holding the kid in her arms,
“I-I ma’am! I swear it’s not that, your child was running and crashed into—“ 
“I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT! I AM GOING TO SUE YOU FOR THIS!” She screamed at you, her spit landing on your face as you stepped back,
A burning pain splattered all over your face, the woman’s purse making a harsh contact with your nose bridge, 
Small red droplets dirtied your white uniform polo shirt, 
She scooped up the injured boy in her arms and ran outside the store, yelling profanities and curses at you,
Suddenly a loud crash was heard as the woman kicked the large shelves, causing the tall shelves to come down on you, one by one alike to dominos,
You can’t remember what happened next, as you woke up in a hospital.
So. You have a huge law suit over your head now, a metaphorical guillotine over your neck, just waiting to be brought down on you, decapitating you and your clean record,
You stood in the waiting room, the fresh smell of floor cleaner wafting into your nostrils, helping you distract yourself momentarily,
“Mx (Y/N)?” A deep voice rings out, pulling you back into reality,
You glance up at the source of the voice, your (e/c) meeting with scarlet red hues, sharp eyes encased behind glasses,
You slowly got up, using your crutches to stabilize your footing, the man waited for you, his eyes inspecting your form as if calculating your every move, he stared at you for longer than needed but you ignored his eyes and kept acting as if nothing was happening,
He politely opened the door for you, giving you enough room to limp inside the office, after you successfully sat down, the man stood in front of his desk,
His ruby eyes were drilling into your own, as if memorizing every single detail of your iris, you looked into his eyes too, trying to seem confident,
If you looked close enough you could see the slight color difference under his eyes, you recognized that gaze— of exhaustion and pulling all nighters, but he did do a good job minimizing the eye bags!
You didn’t get to look at him properly but he was very well dressed.. the classic black vest along with black dress pants and a white dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms,
Pretty purple hair gathered at the back of his head in a ponytail, two tresses framed the sides of his face, bringing more attention to his sharp features, he was attractive.. Very attractive.
After another round of continuous staring the male finally cleared his throat, breaking the suffocating tension in the room,
“I am Alejandro Ortega, your defense in the court.” He stated clearly, sticking his hand out, asking for a hand shake,
“Oh. I’m (Y/N), thank you for your time sir.” You politely stretched out your arm and gently shook his hand,
His larger one enveloped your own hand, giving you a steady and firm handshake, slightly squeezing your hand in his,
His touch lingered, hand still tightly held around yours, he stared into your eyes, unwilling to let go,
You half smiled, trying to pull your hand away from his, slightly becoming unsettled when he didn’t let go,
He coughed, letting go of your hand and sitting down on his own chair,
He crossed his legs under the desk, taking out a paper and a pen, tapping the opposite side of the tip on the paper sheet, he discussed with you the phases of how he was planning to defend you in this case, giving you a bit of a background check on him,
“Well then, please tell me how everything happened, miss (Y/N).” 
You started retelling the events of the store, your hands coming in play and moving around to emphasize your actions and feelings,
A soft smile bloomed on the man’s face, sometimes even chuckling quietly at your exaggerated gestures,
Alejandro liked—No, adored your company, you were so charismatic and lively, your energy was so contagious that even his hard exterior had began to show cracks,
The buzzing in his chest wouldn’t stop, his hands were sweaty and his face felt warm, just what was this feeling? He is supposed to maintain a poker face and not show any favoritism with his clients.. Oh but you.. he couldn’t help but show contentment around you,
Unfortunately you soon had to go home and rest, he felt truly pity for you, being all bruised up and injured— on top of that you were in the process of being sued, 
Such a sweet soul you have, he would make sure that you would be well protected under him, he would hate to see you in harms way,
Alejandro finished helping the janitors cleaning up, he waved everyone off as they left, with suitcase in hand he leaned against the wall,
Ever since your appointment with him he couldn’t stop thinking of your face and voice, perhaps he could use your files for some.. private research.
He opened the doors of his home, his wife, Ume, peeked into the hallway as if already knowing it was him who entered the manor,
Her long white hair flowed behind her as she sped walked towards him, she brushed her bangs out of her beautiful face as she approached him,
“Honey! Did you get off work early?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a loving peck on his lips,
Alejandro grunted in response, peeling her arms off his shoulders and neck, he despised physical contact from Ume, he hated her voice, to him it sounded like nails scratching against a chalkboard, it irritated him, greatly so.
Ume was not at fault, for she had done no wrong to him, she was what any man would wish for, she was obedient, beautiful, loving and skilled in every aspect,
He just hated the intent behind his marriage with her, ever since he had slipped out of his mothers womb and brought into this world he had no control over his life, for it had been decided for him,
What he was going to be, who he was going to marry, where he was going to study, who his relationships were and even how he should feel,
He had no control over his life, he had never had any control over his own livelihood, his parents had controlled him even beyond the grave,
He hated his life. He hated Ume. He hated his parents. He cherishes you. He hated everything but you.
You had brought excitement to his life somehow, you came into his office and sparked something in him with your attitude and personality,
Maybe his life wasn’t so bad.
He stared at the knives in his kitchen, his hand itching to find something— someone to slice into ribbons with the sheening blade of the knife,
When did he become so violent? Was he this savage all along?
He shook his head lightly, taking off his glasses momentarily as he cooked dinner for his self and Ume,
He flipped the chicken and rice in two plates, as he brought the food and placed it down on the long hall table,
Ume awed at the perfectly cooked food, she dug in immediately, complimenting him and his cooking skills every time she spooned food into her mouth,
Alejandro subconsciously clutched a napkin in his hand, his knuckles turning a ghost white from sheer force,
“..Thank you” he muttered, his hand shakily cutting off some chicken and inserting it into his mouth,
His mind wandered off to your beautiful eyes, those beautiful (e/c) gems twinkling under light enamored him so much..
Alejandro noticed how your eyes would wander off sometimes, looking at him intently, as if you were listening to the most interesting thing in the world, it just made him feel so bashful..
How long had it been since he had seen you? 5 hours? 5 days? 5 years? God, he can’t remember anymore, just being away from you felt like an eternity, it was driving him insane..
Maybe next time the both of you meet you can go out for a drink together.. he smiled a little at that, perhaps he could invite you to a garden and talk to each other and learn more about you..
“Dear? What are you smiling at?” The gratingly annoying voice of his wife chimed in, anger rose inside him, taking most of his willpower to keep a calm mind and most importantly of all not to lash out at her,
“It’s none of your concern, Ume.” He answered coldly, glaring at her, a small vein sprawling across his temple in irritation,
She looked taken aback by her husband snapping at her, her smooth caramel tinted skin draining of color, her wonder turning into a fear in a flash,
Just as she was going to open her mouth to apologize Alejandro cut her off, 
“—I’m going to go take a shower, I’m finished with my diner, wash the dishes please.” He instructed as he left but not before giving her a pointed look,
Alejandro shut the bedroom door behind him, huffing as he sat on his and Ume’s shared bed
Ume wouldn’t understand, she would break down if she ever found out he had developed romantic feelings for someone else,
As soon as he makes developments in yours and his relationship he will make sure to get divorce papers signed immediately,
He wouldn’t want you to think he was unfaithful, because he isn’t.
His marriage never worked out anyway, he can only imagine the beautiful domestic life you would have with him,
He wouldn’t have to come into office, he could be your stay at home husband! He knows how to cook, clean and overall good spouse.. He spent most of his childhood honing these skills by taking care of his little sister,
He simply goes into work to avoid having to see his insufferable wife, even a minute away from her made his life expectancy slightly increase,
He opened the water, staring at his reflection before stepping into the shower,
Cold water ran from the shower head, landing refreshingly on the tall males’ back and body,
He sighed, relaxation seeping into his body slowly and steadily, he leaned his body weight onto his forearms,
His forehead rested on the cool shower walls, cleansing his thoughts for just a moment, his long hair stuck to his forehead and shoulders as water slipped off in small droplets,
 as hard as he tried he couldn’t fend away certain thoughts, all of them being of You. You. You. Ý̵̯͙̰̾Ô̸̱͉̖̣̾͝Ú̷͎͍.
Look at what you have reduced him to.. A lovesick fool.. craving nothing more than you— It has only been five days, yet you live in his brain and heart like maggots, digging deeper and deeper into him..
Yet he didn’t care, he would allow you to do so because he knew that he secretly liked it, he liked having someone to obsess over and follow like a lovesick puppy,
he had been saving his love for too long, and now it seems that you pulled the trigger on his heart, for this dangerous love ridden russian roulette has just started.
He now understands why he suffered for so many years, he sees now that it was all for you, it seems that god has gotten tired of torturing him and sent you, as his savior— his light.
If he knew things would come to this he would have chosen to suffer again and again, continuing what appeared to be an endless cycle just to be able to meet you and reach zenith.
He is holding his heart in his hands for you, it was you awakened feelings he never thought were real, now assume the consequences of your actions, won’t you, love?
Ume stalked the halls of the huge mansion, her heart feeling heavy after she upset her beloved husband,
She smoothened down her dress as she shakily opened the bedroom door, seeing that the room was empty she sat down on the bed,
Staring at the bedroom door longingly she decided to slightly peek through a crack in the doorway,
The water landed against the shower floor, helping muffle out the small whimpers and moans that were heard from Alejandro,
His hand fisted his cock rapidly, his hips bucking into his soft hand to feel some kind of friction, the sound of his hand clapping against his skin being audible even with the drizzling water ambients,
Ume’s eyes widened, never had she though her husband could ever make such.. Sinful sounds, it seemed he was saying something between the strangled sounds of pleasure..
“—N).. (Y/N).. Mmph! (Y/N), please..” 
(Y/N)? Who was this (Y/N)? Why was her husband saying that name? Was he cheating on her?
Her green eyes zeroed in on his body, watching as his back would arch and tremble whenever he would get close to climax,
Ume had tried a handful of times to get some kind of intimacy going on with Alejandro, going as far as getting some.. Aphrodisiac products, however it seemed that even under the influence of such hard core drugs he would rather deal with it himself than come close to her,
His free hand roamed his body, soon reaching up against his chest and starting to play with the soft muscle, 
Delivering soft and hard squeezes, soft groans muddled with mutters of “I love you”s slipped out of his lips,
Dampened hair fell over his eyes as he pressed his cheek against his shoulder, gentle sobs mixed with the sound of water running,
His thrusts slowed down as his thighs pressed together, with a final cry of your name the knot in his stomach came undone,
Loads and loads of white semen painted a section of the tiled shower walls, he kept thrusting into the air, riding out his high.
Ume closed the door quietly, sitting on the bed she placed her hands over her face, her well manicured nails digging into the sides of her soft face,
Whoever this.. (Y/N) was she was going to speak to, and it’s not going to be pretty.
Alejandro was her husband, hers only, and she was willing to fight tooth and nail for him,
The bathroom door opened, showing the ruby eyed man walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, delicate beads of water dripping off his hair and rolling down his skin abdomen,
“Is there something wrong?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrow, eyeing her down menacingly,
The pretty woman but her lips while smiling, kicking off her shoes and spreading her legs open, an idea popping into her head
“Well.. perhaps, I’m feeling awfully.. Hot down there, help me will you?”
It had been 3 months precisely, it was your court date, you dressed up as best as you could afford, brushing your hair neatly and ironing your clothes to perfection,
You arrived early, looking at the huge court with furrowed brows and crudely covered dark circles, you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep last night,
Your mind couldn’t stop thinking of all the worst possible scenarios— What If you lost and went to jail? What if you were forced to sleep with a crazy cell mate? Sentenced to death? Having to use forks as hair brushes for the end of your days?!
A hand gently fell on your head, softly caressing your hair, you met scarlet eyes, beautiful eyes, the same shade as blood,
“Everything is going to be alright, I can assure you that, so please don’t worry your pretty little head over whatever you are thinking, will you promise me that?” You knew that voice, that was your lawyers voice, it was always so soothing to you, never was his voice rough or hoarse, it was always so warm and gentle..
You nodded, your worries calming down slightly, you weren’t expecting it but it sure was meaningful to you, you knew he was very.. Stoic most of the time, you liked to think he might have a soft spot for you, although the probability of that is probably non existent, oh how you were so so wrong.
The both of you entered the court, you were sweating buckets of sweat, pulling at your collar once in a while to try and freshen yourself up,
“Defendants please rise.” The judge called out, her voice strong and authoritative,
The both of you stood up, you were so nervous in the moment that you totally ignored Alejandro’s hand clasped around yours, his fingers intertwined tightly in between yours,
Alejandro was right, he was good, good was a massive understatement, he got evidence from places you didn’t even recognize, you had no idea if some of the documents had been falsified or not due to how legit they looked,
By the end of court you weren’t the one in cuffs, but the mother of the little boy, who had been taken into custody,
She yelled profanities at you, kicking and screaming at the police men to let her go,
Alejandro stood in front of you protectively, eyes narrowed into a glare, gaze as sharp as knives and glass shards,
You were so happy and relieved, weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you felt as if you were going to cry or happiness,
Your chest felt light as you hugged Alejandro, thanking him a million times over and over,
Had you overstepped boundaries? Maybe, Would Alejandro normally flip out and do something unseemly? If you were someone else, yes.
But it’s you, how could he deny you of something he had been wanting to do for a long time? How? So he wasn’t.
He deserved this too, he had gone through so much trouble to fake so much evidence to get that dirty bitch in jail, and you were willingly giving him his reward,
He basically threw himself on you, his arms over your head, he adjusted your arms on his waist, letting you hug him as close as you desired,
His face was close to your hair— so so close to you, he just had to smell you, just one second, please please please please please please.
He breathed in your scent, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, you smelled so good, he knew his wife was in the audience but he couldn’t give less of a fuck,
Let her watch, let her see how he loved you so much more, he didn’t care anymore, he wasn’t going to hide it anymore, because it was true he had become so intimately infatuated with you he couldn’t even stand being a moment without you,
He had all he ever wanted right in his arms, and he didn’t care what he had to do to make you his, 
He didn’t care if he had to frame innocent people over and over again, he didn’t care if he had to make shady deals with hackers or mafia men, he will do crazy shit and get away with it!
If he had to let the world burn for you he would turn the world ablaze until only ash and cinder was left, only to light it on fire again over and over just to prove how much he loved you.
His eyes met his “wife”’s emerald like gaze, her eyes shining under light with jealousy, he knew she wanted to tear the both of you apart,
But he wouldn’t let her, as he would be the one ripping her to shreds this time around,
He will do anything and he means everything for you. 
He would do it all in your name. ♡
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trixiegalaxy · 28 days
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obscure-entity · 1 year
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your shading is AMAZING specially when its conveying organic forms..... do you have any tips for people who dont know wrf going on (with shading)
ok so HI. hi. my old tutorial pisses me off so i will make a new one
i made a guy whose sole purpose is to be shaded so dont worry he likes it. and his name. his name will be mr. Boob. mr boob does not have to be blue
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theres probably way better explanations of how to do it but unfortunately trying to "emulate" shading does ask you to somewhat understand ur character in a 3d way. like what would the 2d shape be if you "sliced" it? mr boob is made of so many circles. his tail also does a kind of weird perspective foreshortening thing because its pointing at you. is this being conveyed
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you obviuously dont have to draw a horrendous grid on your characters skin to do this . BUT it helps you put down (or at least envision) the lines of the form shading :
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dont worry about cast shadows or the shading color because this is FORM SHADOW time only. think about what surfaces of the character are obviously facing away from the light source and put down the "separation line" of the shading based on that. thr most important thing is that youre trying to separate light from dark
im going to pick the first one for cast shadows bc it will be the most obvious to me
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ok so. his ears and snout are blocking other surfaces of his body from the light, which means a shadow is cast!!!! bam. i saw someone describe cast shadows as what the light's pov "can't see." his entire body is putting down a cast shadow on the ground too
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im impatient so i blended the form shadows now. its usually the easiest to just NOT blend cast shadows as a way of conveying that they are still cast shadows. but you can still blend them if you want to show "distance" between the obstruction and the surface its blocking. but its just a way of saying form and cast shadows should not be treated the same even if their softness coincides
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im going to lump reflection and ambient light together because theyre like. similar. reflections dont just happen in mirrors
since the sky is blue, making the ambient lighting, i tinged mr. boobs existing shadow to be a bit blue. (*this is kind of important because it can help you decide a shading color, which should USUALLY be based on the environment) (unless your character is just in the transparent void then it doesnt matter)
since the ground is pink, i made pink light bounce off of him. pointed and labelled. i dont rlly know how to go more in depth than that
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contact shadows are literally shadows formed from direct-touching contact. very little light can reach in there, even from how reflections disperse, which means youre free to use the darkest color available (black). in this case mr. boob is making contact with the floor. because he is sitting on the floor.
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i touched him up a bit and wow!!!!!!!!!! look at mr. boob!!! he is so beautifully sculpted.
and one more thing
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thats right. i made mr boob PINK. hes fucking ruined now. just kidding i would never say that to him
what im trying to convey here (its the easiest with really light colors) is a transitional color. this can also show subsurface scattering depending on how you use it which is fun to look at. the mistake i made on my last tutorial was "Just pick a warm saturated color!" which is really wrong in examples like Blue mr boob. because it would be weird to use a warm color to transition from blue to blue.
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if you have a character that isn't bright enough then obviously the shadows wont be as visible. its BEST to bring more attention to highlights and reflections to reveal the form a bit. they play the biggest role with darker colors
thats all i can think of. fun things to look up:
structuralization + contour lines + foreshortening etc. 3d lingo
form shadows
cast shadows
ambient light
contact shadows
subsurface scattering
im also just speaking out of my ass otherwise. i didnt look up any of these terms until the end now im inferring and hoping i got them right
and remember every time you shade mr boob will be rooting for you
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gor3sigil · 1 month
Text
Trans drag performers deserve better.
Okay so since y'all seem interested, here we go.
[This is about MY experience as a “former” transmasc drag king, in my local scene. This isn't representative of the drag scene as a whole because drag is a wide, huge scene with pretty much any type of people in it. I have never done paid gig. I only performed a couple of times before deciding to stop.]
I discovered drag with RuPaul like a lot of people, and for a long time, I only knew about drag queens. It’s when I learned about an initiation to drag king happening in my town that I decided to try it. I did a bit of research before the event took place and that's how I learned that drag king is widely undocumented, compared to drag queen. A bit disheartening but I was excited to do something new and especially to get back in my local queer community after 2 years or so of “no contact” with it because trauma (see my post about my first T4T relationship to understand why).
First surprise when I got there, I was the only transmasc present as an attendee. The organiser and person who teached us is agender and go by he/him, and his at the time SO is a transmasc enby but appart from them, I was the only trans person. Most of the others were cis lesbian women. Makes sense. The initiation weekend went really well and we ended up performing in an open scene at the end. I can't count the amount of times I got misgendered by other kings during this weekend and I have to say, it pissed me off so fucking bad because I was the only one getting consistantly misgendered. But I brushed it off and had a blast.
My drag persona is more of a dragula king, really goth, and I did a lipsync performance on a Black Dresses song. I loved it and had a blast. A year or so later, we decided with other drag kings to do a little group to perform together.
Once again, I'm the only trans person.
And that's when the shitshow kinda happened. From all the drag kings present, I was also the only one who wasn't already part of a collective. So the group we had was composed of people from 2 collectives who would basically cheer each other out at every show, and it's great !! But I wasn't being integrated into the group, and I felt defeated. One of the main reasons why I didn't go to drag shows was because I was FLAT BROKE. I couldn't attend these events as they were always or in a bar so you have to at least buy a drink, or had a fee, and I couldn't afford that.
We started doing rehearsals and I set up a discord server for us all to use and organize the said rehearsals. It soon became apparent that they weren't really serious about this group, that they were more involved in their own collectives and it was HELL to have at least one rehearsal a month. But we had a show scheduled for september, and half of the kings weren't ready, didn't know their texts nor songs. I knew it was going to be bad. Also we were confirmed that the gig was going to actually happen 3 days only before, because the people who said they were going to do the visuals NEVER DID and we had to fumble something quick so the event was promoted very fucking late and we weren't sure we could even afford to do it, because not many tickets were sold.
During the rehearsals I got singled out for everything. My voice was dropping because of the T (I had started 8 months prior) and I tried to do my best with the singing parts but got told a few times that my low voice would sound “weird” amongst the sopranos. Also, one of the solo part a king was going to perform was on a very upbeat music and he said we could join IF WE WANTED.
I said I'd pass since it wasn't my style at all.
And when we got to the venue, the venue didn't have any backstage and I had my solo part just after that, so I couldn't just stand there on stage and do nothing. The others in my group KNEW IT as they had performed in this venue BEFORE but just told me “oh, too bad, improvise something” when they were the same ones who told me that taking part in the number was not mandatory.
Regarding the other artists, man, I hated everything. I got misgendered constantly IN KING LIKE - I'M A DRAG KING FFS. Even by others in my group.
When I corrected another performer, a cis gay dude, he laughed at my FACE and told me “but you're trans aren't you like, against gender or something ?”. As I was pre op and still early in my transition I was basically outing myself everytime I told my pronouns and I got so many cis performers ask me invasive questions about my sex life, or being like “yeah I have a trans friend who goes by X but I knew them as Y so it's Y to me but it's not in a disrespectful way you see”.
So yeah, I didn't have a great night. :)
The cis kings called me “girl” or “sis” because “I'm one of them” even after telling them time and time again that I wasn't comfortable with that.
And after this quite disastrous experience, the same ones who called me “girl” and me got into an argument because they wanted to change a song about forced toxic masculinity which is an INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL SONG into lyrics to talk about femininity. I said that we could use another song then, because there's so few cis men singers who sing about being forced into toxic masculinity and virility that I found that a bit disrespectful to take this important message and make it about women and femininity. There's plenty of songs about that that we could use.
And now guess what ? I was a MEAN MAN who wanted women to NOT TALK ABOUT THEIR ISSUES because I was a very MANLY DUDE DISGUSTING MALE.
The same people who couldn't gender me correctly and called me “sis” a WEEK BEFORE.
So yeah, I got the fuck out and gave up.
I really wish I can perform again one day, but it'll be in another scene.
So PSA: book drag kings, because they are so underrepresented it's disheartening, RESPECT trans drag performers, don't but bioessentialism in drag for the LOVE OF GOD IT'S DRAG. Like imagine being transphobic as a DRAG PERFORMER. Learn the history. And fucking do better.
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darkbluekies · 8 months
Note
Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic
You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.
Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you
Be mine (you have no fucking choice)
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Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader
Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.
Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol
Word count: 4.3k
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You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 
“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 
“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”
You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 
“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”
“No, Silas, I’m going home.”
Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 
You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 
It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.
He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 
“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 
You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”
“Because she’s at the house?”
“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”
“Because I’m worried about you.”
“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”
“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”
“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”
You push past him.
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A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 
You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.
However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 
You hold the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 
“Hi, Ares”, you say. 
“How the fuck did you get my number?”
“I did some digging.”
“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”
You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 
“What did you want?” he asks. 
“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”
“Sure. Now?”
“If you can.”
“Yeah, I’m not busy.”
You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 
“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 
“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”
Ares smirks.
“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”
You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 
“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”
“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”
“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”
“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”
“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”
“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”
You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 
“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”
“You are an ass too”, you remind him.
“Better than Silas, though.”
You scoff and roll your eyes.
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Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.
“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”
“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”
You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.
“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”
You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 
“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.
But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.
“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”
“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”
“Have you hit your head?”
“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”
“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”
“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”
Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”
“I had help.”
“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.
“Ares.”
Silence. 
“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 
You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.
“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 
“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 
“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”
“Y/N-”
You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.
When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 
“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”
“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”
Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 
You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.
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Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!
“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”
“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”
“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”
“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”
“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”
Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 
“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”
“Right”, Silas responds. 
“Which countries are you banned from?”
“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”
“So, one of those countries.”
“But which?!”
“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”
“Spain?”
“Bingo.”
Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.
“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”
“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”
“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”
The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 
He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 
He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 
He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.
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Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 
“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”
“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 
“A shot will help with that.”
“I don’t drink, you know that.”
Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 
“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”
“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 
“Not only-”
“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”
“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”
“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”
Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”
Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.
“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 
The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”
“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”
“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”
You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”
Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 
You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 
“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 
“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 
“Let’s keep it.”
Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 
“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 
“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”
“I guess.”
Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.
“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 
“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”
“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”
“You betrayed me.”
You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 
“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”
Silas seems to be taken aback. 
“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”
“But I betrayed you-”
“I know, but I can’t kill you.”
“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”
“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”
You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 
“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”
“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 
“Vodka.”
You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 
“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 
“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”
He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 
“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 
“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 
“Then stop me.”
You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.
The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.
You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.
You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 
After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.
“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”
You've never felt so helpless.
Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.
“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”
Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.
Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 
Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 
He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.
“What?” his second in command asks.
“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.
“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”
“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”
“What happened with your brother, by the way?”
“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”
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When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.
Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.
“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.
Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.
“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.
“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.
“Aren't you a fun lad?”  
“Where is my phone, by the way?”
“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”
“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”
“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”
“Obviously with good reasons.”
Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 
Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.
“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”
“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 
You get the hint immediately. 
“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.
“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.
“This is going to be a stable relationship.”
“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”
While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.
“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.
“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”
“Sounds good to me.”
You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.
1K notes · View notes
pinkrelish · 2 years
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
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singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.✶
NSFW — slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine but eddie's just tired, reader and eddie are mid-late 20's
chapter: 1/20 [wc: 5.5k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12
AO3
Chapter 1: Surprise, Surprise
“Yes.” A simple answer which spawned as many awkward scenarios, as it did great ones. Your name was spray painted on the side of a bridge, you spent nights learning to tango on abandoned rooftops, the amount of tales you accrued of bad dates could fill a self-help book.
Whatever the question was, the answer was “yes.” Life was more exciting that way.
Well, your policy usually lended itself to exciting adventures, anyway.
Currently, you were sat behind a desk with your boss, Mr. Moore, who slouched on his black stool with his cheek propped on his fist, pointing a pencil at a customer’s pink invoice sheet in front of you, explaining who to call in the spiral-bound catalog for the parts to be shipped.
The tall counter top partially obscured the both of you from employees and customers alike, but as you soon realized, the number of employees was slightly above two, and the customers even less; and if any of them paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell from the disorienting mix of exhaust fumes, dirty oil, and grease wafting in from the glass door on the left.
Thus began the first day of your new job at David’s Auto Repair. Boring.
————
Your second and third days were hardly different. Arriving at the butt crack of dawn and beginning the routine that definitely wasn’t in the ad in the newspaper: clean the bathrooms (hey, at least they had two), start the coffee pot after scrubbing off years of neglect caked onto the inside, and organize the paperwork Mr. Moore left for you in his office.
Oh, and most importantly, after locking up your bike outside the front door, you made your way through the echoey workshop and poked your head out the back door to the parking lot–which, by all means, was a gravel alleyway with overgrown trees blocking your view beyond the sleek black car parked next to the dumpster.
“Morning!” you greeted the one employee who arrived early and stayed late. “Eddie, right?”
The man leaning against the gray brick wall didn’t bother acknowledging you. Didn’t lift his head from its dropped back position, nor open his eyes. Definitely didn’t take the cigarette out of his mouth to bestow you the gift of his chipper attitude, nor did he uncross his arms to offer you the bare minimum wave.
And much like the other days, you sat perched behind your desk and beamed up at him as he walked past you to the break room. And as usual, he slid his gaze to you. And like normal, he didn’t say anything.
But he did hold your eye contact for a fraction of a second longer, albeit, he looked a bit frightened when he did, as if he were suspicious of your smile.
You listened to the clunk of his heavy boots fade down the hallway, then return with him holding a mug of coffee.
This time, as he walked by, he remained vigilant, and your grin went ignored by his stupid big brown eyes surrounded by envious lashes.
Lucky you, the reception area was essentially a glass cage. Behind the black pleather seats for customers was the glowing blue sky, and beside you were floor to ceiling windows showcasing the artificially bright garage where the man in grease stained coveralls twisted gaudy rings off his fingers and placed them on a tray with his coffee, before picking up a dirty rag and popping open the hood of the car he worked on past closing last night.
“You’re welcome for the coffee,” you mumbled in a mocking tone, sneering at his red name patch–Eddie. “Jerk.”
————
Friday was different. You locked up your bike, chucked your backpack into your chair behind the desk, and made your way to the back of the garage for the routine, “Good morning.”
For some reason, you decided to reveal your whole self; more than your head stuck out the door, or rising above the countertop customers leaned on when trying to schmooze deals on parts–hell if you knew how to do that, anyway. You didn’t get paid enough to bargain.
You stepped onto the uneven gravel and surveyed the scenery, looking both ways down the alley to the major roads on either side leading to the heart of downtown Hawkins. Absolutely dismally silent. Void of life. Except for the small things you never noticed, like faraway birds, the hum of a distant motor, buzzing bugs before they disappeared for the cooler months. You felt the dew settling on your forearms, and swore you could smell impending rain on the cloudless day.
“Is it always this quiet?” you asked, face pinched in confusion as you took it all in. “I swear I can hear my own thoughts.”
Eddie may not have appreciated your joke, but he did surprise you.
He kept one of his arms crossed over his stomach, and took the cigarette from between his lips to flick the ashes. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked the dilapidated fence across from him.
Feeling cheeky, you schooled the thrill out of your voice from getting a response out of him, and said, “What gave it away?”
A drag on his cigarette was his wordless answer. Fair.
“I’m from New York.” The implied City followed without clarification. “Just moved here last week. My roommate’s from Hawkins, and she had to move back to help take care of her parents. They’re older and her dad has some health problems, and yeah, I couldn’t afford rent on my own, so you know, why not. Why not follow her to a town so small it’s impossible to find on a map.”
All your talking earned you a magnificent thing. Eddie finally opened his eyes, if only to pin you with a mild glare, and a skeptic pinch between his brows.
He said more to himself than you, “You must really like your roommate to come here.” The inflection at the end was both amusement and contempt, no doubt.
“We met in our first year of college and became best friends like that–!” You snapped. “Both theater kids going to school for acting, and we later made a comedy troupe with a few other people. When she asked if I wanted to move with her, I said ‘yes.’” Inclining your upper body towards him, you explained, “It’s sorta my thing. If anyone asks me anything, I say ‘yes.’ Obviously, I can veto shit that’s dangerous or crosses any boundaries, but it’s my policy to try everything. Life makes better stories that way.”
Your unique brand of wisdom furthered his obvious distaste for you.
Eddie inhaled his vice until the orange glow burned to the filter. Smoke fell from his mouth in a rush as if he were about to speak again, but he didn’t. He merely stared at you. And if he were having a staring contest, he won.
“Well, have a good day, then,” you said, spinning on the toe of your shoe.
You sat in your glass zoo for the day shuffling papers, making calls, and filling out forms. Most definitely not talking to the guy who appeared annoyed at your very existence.
Unfortunately for him, Hawkins was tiny and the pickings were slim.
Maybe it was his eyes, or the way the short layers of his choppy hair cut escaped his low bun to curl themselves in face-framing waves, or the fact he was twenty-years younger than the other two mechanics, but you took a liking to Eddie, much to his dismay. And due to your affinity for his annoyance, you noticed the subtle changes in his appearance sooner than you should. 
————
Dark purple circles announced the lack of sleep under Eddie’s eyes before the bags could. Bloodshot and struggling to open past a sliver, he sucked down half his cigarette before the routine minutes of peace he carved into his strict schedule were interrupted by the newest knot in his muscles.
“Good morning!” you said.
“Morning,” he returned without thinking about it. Rookie mistake.
You stood closer this time, inching down the brick wall, approaching him as if he would startle like a wild animal to get a better look at the years wearing heavy on the fine lines etched into his face. Perhaps no longer ‘fine.’
“You good?”
He didn’t have the energy to put up his usual front. With his chin dipped to his chest, he kept his eyes closed, nearly drifting to sleep as he muttered, “Long night.”
“Ah.”
Your clumsy shuffling alerted him to your movement, and he reluctantly observed you standing a few feet in front of him, rocking on your heels. He filled his chest with an incredulous sigh before you even spoke.
“You seem like you could use some cheering up,” you beamed. “I could juggle for you! Should I do three or four?” Eddie’s jaw went slack, and the cigarette stuck to the wetness inside his chapped lips. You bent down to gather large rocks into your palms, opting for four when he didn’t answer.
You stood up and stepped back. Made a big show of tracing invisible arcs above your head with your gaze, readying your hands. Sucking in a breath. Building suspense while his expression slowly crept into one of tempered curiosity.
Tensing, you tossed all four rocks into the air, and made a genuine effort to catch them before they fell unceremoniously around you, bouncing off the gravel in your scramble.
Clasping your hands behind your back in feigned shyness, you announced, “I don’t know how to juggle.”
For a moment you thought he was going to continue to regard you as if you were a bug in his coffee.. Then his veneer cracked.
He snorted. The cute way, when someone’s trying to suppress it. A subtle shake in their shoulders, keeping their head down, and their smile hidden behind the heel of the palm.
Eddie hugged his arm tighter over his chest, and chastised himself, “Why’d I let that get me.”
And truly, when he flicked his gaze to you with the lopsided remnant of his grin, you were imprinted with the heat of his wonderment, and your body remembered that feeling. Sensing it later when you sat at your desk, tapping your pencil, rattling off a series of numbers and letters for engine parts, and you snuck a coy look over the phone at the exact moment Eddie turned around to ask Carl for a wrench instead of getting it himself from the tool box near the window.
And he felt your stare during lunch when you promised an irate customer their car would be ready by the end of business hours, and hung up the phone with the type of heavy-handedness one used when implying a ‘fuck you’ without stating it.
You pushed yourself from the desk and went to the fridge in front of the circular table in the break room, eyeing Eddie’s odd choice as you walked by. A bologna sandwich–fairly normal–but also a stained orange tupperware container with an array of dried out microwaved leftovers. A corner of spaghetti, pale instant mashed potatoes with three peas stuck on top, unidentifiable sludge that may have been beef stew at one point, and a handful of Kraft mac n cheese.
Pitiful amounts of food that most people would’ve thrown out.
Not that you should judge. Your lunch was the blandest rice-based meal your roommate’s mom made the night before. The woman had never heard of salt, much less other spices, but she was letting you live in their attic for free until you and Bobbie found a place to live.
Breaking your chain of thoughts, you smiled at Eddie on your way out.
He didn’t look up from his paperwork.
Wholly ignored.
————
Over the rest of the month, you learned there wasn’t a definitive pattern to which days of the week were hardest for Eddie, but it was clear when he was enduring the worst.
As the evenings grew cooler, you left the lobby door open, and in doing so, were wise to the bite in his words, the edge to his voice. The quick apologies to Carl when he let his frustration show. The fluidity of ‘fucks’ flying past his mouth, the way he wrung his nape while staring into the distance, and the lurking stress of bottled emotions causing his teeth to grind.
He approached you with concern spurned from the windows being painted black with night.
“You don’t have to stay behind, you know that, right?” Eddie got your attention in the doorway. You blinked at him, still seeing the words of the book you were reading swim past your vision. “I have a set of keys. I can lock up when I’m done.”
It was the most he’d said to you in two weeks. Three entire sentences composed of more words than he’d uttered if you added them all up since your juggling stunt.
“I don’t mind.”
A meager response which resulted in a standoff.
Eddie wasted no time bunching his shoulders at your defiance. He left streaky fingerprints on the door handle as he reached for his neck, and tucked his fingers under his collar to run his thumb along his chain necklace in a self-soothing gesture. A layer of grime coated his skin. His disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty, dirty neck. The front of his coveralls were blackened with grease, as was the white tank top he wore underneath, peeking above the unfastened top snap.
On the other hand, you overturned your palms and glanced around the barren room. “Is it really that much of a bother that I’m sitting in here being quiet?” you drawled.
“Yes.” Automatic irritation.
“It’s not like I have somewhere to be.”
“Don’t have a comedy routine to rehearse with your roommate?” he intoned in complete monotony.
“Ha-ha,” you replied, just as emotionless. You thought about correcting him in regards to you and Bobbie no longer doing stand up, but decided to grab your backpack and leave without putting up a fight. His concern about you staying late may not be genuine, but it was evident he wanted–or needed–you gone. You didn’t want to push his boundaries when he showed this level of discomfort, especially when the burden of fatigue wore beyond acceptable exhaustion, and he was ready to snap, no matter how hard he tried to quell it.
You surrendered, “Bye, Eddie.”
No reply.
In total darkness, you unchained your bike and hopped on, pedaling past the mailbox when you heard the thunderous slams of the service doors being lowered shut.
And you made it to the edge of the trees before coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty street, cracking your neck at the speed of which you whipped around to gawk.
Your heartbeat skipped, then timed itself with the extreme drum beat and opening wail of a guitar accompanied by high-pitched screamed lyrics.
The music may have been muffled, and the inside fluorescent lights struggled to penetrate the dense fog from the upper warehouse windows, but it was as if Eddie was subjecting the desolate parking lot to his own personal Judas Priest concert, hearing be damned.
You didn’t even know the dusty radio in the shop worked. But whatever helped him blow off steam, you supposed.
————
Today was a good day.
Eddie liked Fridays. Most people working weekdays did, but when he came inside early from his morning cigarette, and you hadn’t finished sweeping the shop, he made a point to idle around the orange car at the center, seeking your attention and offering an apology. Not a spoken apology, mind you. But it was rare he initiated eye contact, and when he did it with the purpose of showing deference in his softened features, you understood.
You forgave him with a gentle lift at the corner of your lips for an incident yesterday afternoon, wherein he grunted at you to leave him alone when you were telling him about one of the plays you and Bobbie acted in. Sometimes you required your own reminder of when you were being annoying, and gave him an apologetic smile for bothering him. He nodded. All was right with the world. All was forgiven and now he could get to work.
He wiped his hands down the sides of his coveralls, and leaned his upper half through the open car window to reach the latch for the hood.
The perfect opportunity to mess with him presented itself in all its glory. But first, you couldn’t resist taking a long.. long look at his backside, head tilted, mouth more than a little hung open.
“Huh?” He nearly banged his head on the roof, rounding on you with the sharpest glare in the Midwest.
Under the guise of perfect innocence, you kept brushing the broom over his work boots and toward the dust pan. “Sorry, sir, just doin’ my job. Gotta clean up the filth.”
“An actress and a comedian, huh?” he posed, allowing his smirk to foster as he gripped the edge of the door. “Gonna tell me you were a clown, next?”
“Actually..” You were interrupted by Carl coming in, followed by the near-retired Kevin who worked two days a week.
You greeted them loud and proud, overdoing it in the joy department at the ripe morning hour. Asking about Carl’s wife, and Kevin’s dog; really laying it on thick for the purpose of sending a message to the looming ghoul behind you: I’m annoying you on purpose now.
Still, as you entered the lobby, you caught sight of the sneaky grin on his face before he turned his back to you. A tight-lipped thing he was clearly trying to rid himself of while pulling his hair back into a low bun, and taking the time to tie up a bandana to keep everything out of his face, thus losing his security blanket from the world perceiving he wasn’t in a permanent bad mood.
And of course, Eddie kept up his act through lunch. Stomping through the lobby in that way people did when they were so very obviously trying to appear aloof, and coming across as anything but. Eyes staring straight ahead, but too wide and too aware to not be soliciting a reaction from their periphery. Chest out, muscles flexed. Posture the very opposite of casual, causing them to walk in a stilted manner like a robot.
And his charade continued when he came back from the break room, rounding the corner with softer steps. Slower. Hanging onto the precious milliseconds where your back was to him, and he could absorb your image freely without being noticed. Then, he lifted his chin and returned to his project, pretending you weren’t there.
Yep, so painfully obvious when he forgot reflections existed and you were surrounded by glass.
~~~
Fridays were the days he anticipated most. Work was grueling, and he had many things to finish before the break for the weekend, but he didn’t mind staying late. He preferred it.
Fridays meant he could rely on someone else handling the stressors at home, and he was free to earn his late hours at the garage, indulging in his loud music, and unwinding the constant state of tension lurking beneath the surface. It was the only way he knew how to cope. To stay sane.
Yeah, he loved Fridays. Until a surprise came running at him in her tiny pink shoes.
Eddie screwed his eyes shut and exhaled a long, hard breath through his nose.
“Sorry,” came Wayne’s earnest apology as his nephew wilted; shoulders sagging, head hung. Tapping the wrench he was holding on his thigh. Trying his best to keep it together. “Don’t mean to drop ‘er off on you, but work called me in, so I came here after picking her up.”
Turning away from the engine he was installing, Eddie assumed his authoritative voice, but it came out as a weary sigh. “Adrienne, you know the rules,” he warned lowly, “No running in the shop.” After a beat, he corrected himself. “I mean, no being in the shop at all!”
She giggled as she skipped away from him, sloppy pigtails bouncing with mirth, plastic glittery shoes slapping the concrete floor where a myriad of items she could trip on laid.
“Adrie!” He called out, but she was too busy opposing him to pay attention.
Lucky for her, a certain receptionist caught her by the shoulders before she crashed into a rogue tire.
“Whoa there, little Miss!”
You looked to Eddie for further instruction on what to do with the girl currently laughing up a storm at your feet, but he was frozen. A bit paler, and wringing the back of his neck. Unable to articulate any of the broken consonants on his tongue as he stared at you. You switched your gaze to the older man beside him, but he was equally confused as to why Eddie was having trouble speaking.
Addressing anyone who would like to volunteer an answer, you asked, “And who’s this?”
“This.. This i-is my daughter. She, I, Goddamnit–I’m sorry, can you take her inside? I swear she’ll be quiet. Right, Adrie?”
Seeing the pure desperation settle around his eyes, you assimilated into the role of babysitter, wanting to alleviate his anxiety despite the sudden surge of your own. You held your hand out for her to take, and she did so without a second thought, grasping onto you with her little fingers and standing up, being the one to lead you to your desk.
As the door closed behind you, you overheard the older man clear his throat under the strain of bad news. “The water heater is broken again, and I couldn’t– ..Before I had to leave.”
Their private conversation was sealed behind the glass. You didn’t care to eavesdrop. It was too heartbreaking watching Eddie frantically catch his fingers on his bandana before removing it so he could tangle his curls into his fist, tugging them over his face as he groaned in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the world.
But on the subject of his brunette waves..
His daughter had the same curl pattern. Almost the same cut, too. Clearly Eddie was the acting barber of the family. Something you’d find adorable if it wasn’t for the pang of rejection in your stomach.
Daughter. Family.
The words repeated themselves in your head as your eyes wandered to the black tray beside the tool cabinet. He wore several large rings. Lots of jewelry, in fact, but you couldn’t remember if any of them were a wedding band, and the embarrassment of developing a crush on a married man for weeks without taking two seconds to cross reference his left hand burned your cheeks hot.
“Hi,” his daughter said cutely, swaying from foot to foot while holding two of your fingers.
You crouched to her level. “Wanna draw while we wait?” She nodded, sucking on the tip of her thumb.
Steadying your spinny office chair while she climbed into it, you made sure she was comfortable before bringing out the black stool from Mr. Moore’s office, and sitting next to her. You opened your backpack, flipped to a clean sheet in your sketchpad, and presented it to her along with your colored pencils.
“Hmm, what should we draw?”
Adrie snatched the bubblegum pink color, and began her masterpiece. “Mrs. Teresa read us a book about a mouse.”
Thank God she said it was a mouse, because you didn’t want to be the one to guess what the two oblong circles on the page were.
Adorably, she filled you in on the parts of the story she remembered, and added a triangle of yellow cheese under the mouse, then waited for you to prompt another thing to draw. You followed the nocturnal theme and asked for an owl. She hesitated on what colors to choose, and you helped her pick out the shades of brown and tan.
“How old are you?” you asked while she inundated her bird with too many feathers.
“Four-and-a-half,” she said proudly. “How old are you?”
You raised your brows. “Certainly not four-and-a-half.”
At some point, your arm had wrapped itself around her. Maybe to help shift her closer to the desk. Maybe to collect her in a pseudo-hug when she completed her art. Maybe to let Eddie know everything was okay when he craned his neck to check on you while conversing with the man outside, and you put on your best face, grinning at the story his daughter reenacted about a cartoon she watched that morning at preschool.
“What next? What next?”
“Let’s see.. Can you draw me a bat?”
She was more sure of herself, grabbing the black pencil and outlining an entire colony of bats mid-flight with more attention to detail. “My daddy has bats.”
“He has bats?” you questioned, sweeping loose hair out of her face.
She pointed to her elbow.
Thinking on it for a moment, you perked up. “Oh! He has tattoos?” She recognized the word, nodding vigorously. “Interesting, interesting.”
She’d hardly begun to fill in their wings when Eddie opened the door, and held up the comically small backpack slung on his arm, signaling it was time to leave.
You helped her down from the chair, and she excused herself to the bathroom, which only contributed to the awkward silence when she disappeared down the hall and Eddie was forced to wait at your desk.
It didn’t have to be analyzed, nor stated. The reality.
He had an entire life outside of work.
Duh. Of course he did, but still. It was one he never shared with you. Not like you earned the privilege to know, or to be included in anything he didn’t want to divulge, but with how private he was, it came as a surprise.
Invoking the thousands of dollars you spent on acting classes, you moved on, and kept your tone light, “The butterfly backpack suits you. Not sure about the color, though. Bright pink clashes with your navy blue outfit.”
Tough crowd.
His sulky demeanor permeated in his dull gaze trained on his stained sleeves. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“Dumping her on you like that. Normally my uncle has the day off work and can take care of her, but he’s gotta go in because someone called out sick, so, yeah..”
If it were at all appropriate, you would reach across the countertop to soothe him from picking at his torn cuticles. But it wasn’t appropriate. So you didn’t.
You locked your hands behind your head and leaned back in your chair. “Funnily enough, I worked a brief stint as a clown for children’s birthday parties, so I’m actually quite comfortable entertaining them.”
“I’m shocked,” he said, void of shock. Finding the strength to lift his eyes from the animals she drew on your sketchpad to the encouraging curve of your lips, he tried to match your grin, but it fell flat. “At least you can go home on time today.”
You sucked in a breath for a quick retort, but Adrie interrupted you in her tiny voice, “Daddy! I can’t reach the sink!” And maybe that was for the best before you humiliated yourself more.
Because, the truth of the matter was, you always had the ability to go home on time. It was only because Eddie stayed behind that you made excuses to sit at your desk past your scheduled hours, prattling off some nonsense about memorizing the catalog.
“C’mon,” he said to his daughter, supporting her on his hip. “Let’s get going.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient, either. The creeping exhaustion he kept under wraps was breaking through. Stress fractures in the mask he wore around others. The sanity he gripped for dear life for the sake of Adrie.
He caught the empathetic pinch between your brows, and used the last of his energy to turn so his daughter could see you. “Say ‘bye,’ and ‘thank you’ for playing, Adrie.”
She waved with the same enthusiasm as a golden retriever wagging their tail. “Bye! Thank you!”
“Bye, Adrie,” you laughed. “Bye, Eddie.”
Like usual, he didn’t respond. Today that was okay.
————
Eddie was on the verge. He was trembling, failing to loosen a bolt on the water heater to investigate why it broke–again–when his hair was yanked–again–and his knuckles scraped a bent piece of metal–again.
He was kneeling on his kitchen floor, craving nothing more than a shower to wash away the work week until his skin burned, but he was not afforded the simple luxury.
No relaxation. Not for him. No one to call on when Wayne was gone. This was his life to fix. On his own.
After repairing cars all day, he was exhausted. Touched out. But Adrie needed something from him, something he couldn’t understand with his tired mind. All he wanted was a break. All he needed was a break from her using his coveralls to scale his body. All he sought was the energy to deal with her pulling his hair.
But he was not spared the fortune.
“Adrie, please,” he resorted to begging. And when she didn’t stop, he withdrew his arms from the closet, and pried her hands off his hair, peeling her away and setting her on the floor.
She made to grab him again, but he used his waning strength to squeeze her arms to her sides, giving her his full attention she fought for.
“Can I get you a snack? Or put something on the TV? Do you want a nap?” He listed off anything, shaking and desperate.
“I wanna play with Daddy.”
Guilt amplified the shame.
He was a shit dad. He knew. He did his best and it was never good enough.
“I know you do,” the words fluctuated in the wake of water stinging his eyes. “I know you do, but Daddy needs to fix this. I can make you a snack and you can eat it in the living room. How ‘bout that?” Under normal circumstances, that wasn’t allowed. She had a penchant for dropping sticky food on the carpet–which was just another thing he’d have to get around to cleaning–but he was willing to bend the rules for the promise of a shower.
Adrienne thought about his offer for a long while, and settled on his deal.
And yet, it was hours.. hours until he was able to sit down.
The water heater required more service than he initially thought, and his daughter wasn’t entertained by herself for very long. She came to him in intervals of minutes, climbing up his back and hanging from his neck. He stopped caring. He didn’t have it within him. He made sure she was safe, and that was it.
He fed her a dreadful dinner, and she was so happy for her overcooked noodles in pasta sauce. He saved the leftovers. Put them in the nearly-empty fridge and took out two beers for himself, cracking the tops before sinking into the couch.
Adrienne stood between his legs while he wrapped her in her favorite blanket, and placed her in his lap. The top half of his coveralls were tied by the sleeves around his waist. No matter how dirty he was, this was how they ended the night. Him staring blankly at the TV, and her cheek on his chest, ear pressed to his white tank top, listening to his heartbeat. Curling her fists into her tattered quilt in response to him nuzzling the top of her head, and resting there in a content hum. Closing his eyes. Turning off his brain. Tipping back swigs of beer until he felt better, and giving her kisses until she giggled and squirmed.
The kisses were as much for her as they were for him, giving and receiving the only affection in his life. Apologizing for earlier when he couldn’t stand to be touched.
Her hug was small, yet powerful. Clumsy, but what he needed. Another person to gather in his arms and have their weight fall asleep on his chest.
He collected Adrie, and gave her a few more doting kisses while carrying her to bed.
“Stay, Daddy.”
Sometimes he did, just to have a real bed to sleep in, but with how long it took to fix the water heater, there was only enough hot water to bathe her. He’d have to wait until the morning.
“Not tonight, Daddy’s still dirty from work.”
It hurt to walk away. It hurt more to sleep on the lumpy couch. Hurt worse when Wayne came home to crash on the roll out bed, and the sun funneled through the windows, and the day started all over again.
Hurt the most when Eddie thought about the surprised look on your face when you learned he had a daughter.
Hurt the least when he imagined a world in which you wouldn’t care, and still flirted with him come Monday morning, because fuck, it was the only thing he looked forward to after Adrie’s meltdowns on the way to school.
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danhoneyyysblog · 4 months
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hihihihi!! hope ur having a good day!!!
could.. I request Scar with a reader who’s mainly centered around a jellyfish? like, their movements are always smooth, and they kinda resemble a humanoid jellyfish!!
thanks for your time :3
author note: hey, i’ve been having an amazing day so far! I FINALLY GOT JIYAN AT 68 PITY!!! hope you are doing great! and this idea is SO CUTE! Scar being the silly, crazy guy he is with a reader who acts so similar to a jellyfish, i absolutely love that!
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❝GOODNESS! YOU’RE SO CUTE. I MAY AS WELL MAKE YOU INTO A JELLO-FISH TO EAT UP!❞
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Scar x Gender-Neutral! Reader, Rover, Phrolova.
WARNING, MAY CONTAIN: may be slight ooc — as game recently released, simple information on each character. if you don’t enjoy ooc, don’t suggest! (reader) in third person (they/them/their), an accidental kiss - supposed to be CPR, mentions of petnames (jello-fish), mentions of being taught without having a clue on what’s going on, mentions of kissing.
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Days pass by in Jinzhou - one of Huanglong's six major cities. To add onto that, the only city in the Outer Huanglong, as it is one of the recent cities established in Huanglong and could be addressed to 'the throat of Huanglong'. It appears to be nestled within a great lake, embraced by the waters and cradled by the mountains. Jinzhou may be beautiful, but it doesn't stop the fact how dangerous the outside of those walls dug deep down into the waters, making contact with the sand. What lurks behind those enormous walls? Tacet discords, abbreviated as 'TD's, creatures that have the ability to mimic shapes and behaviors of others.
As the people who feared to become one of these beasts stay within the walls. A certain male roams behind them, arms raised up with his hands behind his head as he whistled a tune to himself, having to be sure not to get caught, otherwise he'd get thrown into jail. Who would this individual be? None other than Scar. To put more in his name, he can be known as one of the Overseer members for the Fractsidus - an organization whose ideals are currently to accelerate the next Lament. To bring more into that, another desire of theirs is to capture somebody by the name of 'Rover'.
Back to what was currently happening... Scar strolled around, waiting for Rover to come out of Jinzhou, to make another one of his many dramatic entrances. From the corner of Scar's eye, he is able to see a sort of bioluminescence light coming from within the waters, resting by the walls. That's odd... He could have sworn it was never there. Scar glances around, seeing nobody around, he bursts into sinister chuckles. "This is interesting. Let's see what lurks beneath this lake," Scar speaks out, rotating his body towards the edge and dives in with no hesitation.
Swimming further down until he floats in front of the spot that glowed so brightly. It appeared there was an opening, but it was pitch-black, unable to see what stays in there, but Scar went in, anyways - typical Scar. The deeper he went, the darker it was getting for him. At one point, he reached his hand out, wondering if there was anything resting in front of him. Through his gloved hand, he felt an odd, rough texture. With no fear of what it may be, he ripped it out of where it stayed, bringing it as close as possible to his face until he was able to detect what it may be. It was a... coral.
Hold on. Aren't coral supposed to appear more colorful? It looked completely lifeless. But at the same time, coral tend to look bleached when dead, no? Let's not forget, algae could surround it. This doesn't make any sense... If it's not alive, but it's not dead. Then what was it? Could this coral be a tacet discord?! No... not a possible. For what Scar knew, no tacet discord lives within the waters. Next thing Scar saw, shocked him. The suspected 'dead'-coral lit up in a marvelous shade of blue. The coral was bioluminescent! Within the sight of Scar, all of the organisms such as coral, algae, sea stars, fish, and a bunch of others lit up in the same hue of blue.
It was all bioluminescent! Who would have known the Jinzhou kept a secret like this! Yet for some odd reason, Scar could have sworn his breathe was being taken away from the sight... Wait... HIS BREATHE WAS BEING BEING TAKEN AWAY. Scar's eyes shot wide open, attempting to swim up, but due to feeling his own breathe disappearing, it was causing him to lose energy. Oh, well. Scar will always find his way back up! As he began to lose his consciousness, a silhouette of a person swam towards him, as reminiscent as a... jellyfish. Though he simply assumed it was the afterlife coming to retrieve his soul...
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What do you know! Scar's consciousness was coming back to him. As his eyes slowly flickered open, greeting by blurriness. Within Scar's vision, it looked like the same silhouette as before. The moment Scar snapped back into reality is when the figure leaned in towards him, pressing their lips against his - attempting to do CPR, but it appeared they weren't doing it correctly, an accidental kiss. Though Scar didn't bother to move a muscle, seeming to find what was happening, hilarious. Once the person moved back, letting out a gentle sigh out of their lips and opening their eyes to glance down at Scar, who they assumed was still passed out,
WAS LITERALLY SMIRKING UP AT THEM, alongside a snigger. Terrified by the fact he was literally greeted in the wrong way in the best way, they burst into screams - sounding as if it was music. Scar immediately sat up, slapping his gloved hand onto the person's skin that oddly glowed. Taking a couple of glances around, taking notice on how he appeared to be resting on the shore, far away from Jinzhou. Slowly moving his covered hand away from their hand, brushing against their lips.
Scar crossed his legs, pressing his elbow on his knee as he rested his cheek onto his knuckles. He took this opportunity to observe the individual - seeing how their skin had a sort of gentle shine to it, with clothing resembling a jellyfish. To put more detail into that, they appeared to swim like a jellyfish when coming in to save Scar. Scar's smirk grew wider, releasing a chuckle from his mouth. "I'm guessing you're the pretty stranger who saved me?" Scar questioned. Only to receive a confused expression from the person - dotted-eyes, with a gentle head tilt, as if they were fragile. Afraid to properly move.
"Hm, best guess: You can't understand me. Can you?" Scar asked. He gained no response, as expected. He had no issues with this whatsoever. Carefully, the stranger rose from the ground, having sand attached to any exposed skin as they turned around, planning to head back into the waters. Scar watched their movements - arms swinging at a perfect pace, as well as the movement of the hips. As if anything this secretive person did was as smooth as butter. Scar was about to catch sight of something familiar, leaning his head forward, taking notice of a small tacet mark resting on their nape. This person was a resonator?!
Unconsciously, Scar arose and chased after this person, grabbing onto their wrist, pulling them back until they slammed their back onto Scar. Forcing the confused person to turn their head around, carrying the look of curiosity that Scar found funny. Scar leaned in, having his infamous smirk. "Maybe it's best to teach you a few things. Don't you think, 'jello-fish'?"
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“This is who you were referring to by… ‘jello-fish’?” Scar’s sister, Phrolova, questioned. “Yes! Aren’t they adorable?” Scar asked. Here he currently was — lying down on the ground, on his front with his hands cupping his face and legs gently kicking back and forth. Silly Scar… What was he exactly doing? To put it in simple terms, training AND tutoring the clueless humanoid, who he figured was mainly centred around a jellyfish.
By listening to Scar’s demands such as to swim around in the waters — doing tricks such as jumping out of the waters, twirling in them as they swam around in a perfect pace. All movements made by me were fascinatingly smooth, and Scar didn’t seem to get bored of it. He wanted to flex off what he had been teaching the curious person to his sister.
“Speaking of which, I taught them another thing. Trust me, it’s really impressive.” Scar spoke out. Scar quickly adjusted his position — sitting on his bum, legs crossed as he snapped his fingers as loud as he could — managing to gain the attention of the person reminiscent to a jellyfish. They turned the direction of where they were swimming towards, elegantly making their way towards Scar and as soon as they were at a perfect spot, they leaped out of the waters and jumped onto Scar, who caught them as he fell on his back from the pressure.
“Did you see that?! Tell me that was adorable! They’re able to do that, like a dolphin!” Scar excitedly spoke out, a gleeful laughter mixed in with his words. “…Despite being similar towards a jellyfish.” Phrolova mumbled. She observed on how Scar seemed to be enjoying the person’s actions, where they were gently tracing the outline of Scar’s marks, while letting out a soft coo full of fascination.
Scar’s hands made it onto their hips, causing the person to softly hum out of confusion, which Scar giggled from — as if he was a boy who just got a sweet treat from the store. “Come on, jello-fish. Right here.” said Scar, pointing towards his cheek. Phrolova noticed how clueless the humanoid looked, about to speak up, but was shocked when they actually learned in and brushed their lips against Scar’s check — giving him a kiss.
“Ohoho~! Good, good! I’m so proud of you, jello-fish. Now then, another one here.” Scar praised, now pointing towards the tip of his nose. Once again, they leaned in and pressed a soft kiss onto Scar’s nose. What made this more hilarious for Scar was that this person had no clue what they were doing! “Now… over here.” Scar spoke out, his tone proving how smug he was. Where was he pointing? Towards his lips.
“Scar. Quit that.” Phrolova demanded, though Scar didn’t seem to listen. “Aw, come on! Don’t you want to see what they do—?” before Scar could even finish… they brought their lips against Scar’s lips, shocking Scar, only because he was caught off-guard. Phrolova let out a soft groan, turning around to give the two privacy as the person and Scar’s lips remained pressed onto one another.
“It’s unfortunate they’re unaware of what they’re doing, assuming it’s harmless…” Phrolova mumbled. They separated after a bit, thanks to Scar who wanted to keep the kiss longer. Within a second, he started squealing as if he was a little girl and tackling the individual into a tight embrace. “GOODNESS! You’re so cute. I may as well make you into a jello-fish to eat up!” Scar excitedly exclaimed.
Shockingly, they shot their eyes wide open, moving their head to stare into Scar’s eyes. That’s when Scar realized… “You can understand me for that, but not all of the other stuff I said?!” Scar shouted, not believing it. Scar’s loud voice accidentally terrified me, causing me to rise from what I was and rush back towards the waters, diving in. “Come back!” Scar whined. “Not only you scared them by saying you’ll eat them, but by yelling, too. I’m not surprised…” Phrolova said. “You’re not helping.” Scar argued.
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author note: sorry if this isn’t what you necessarily wanted! if it is, i’m glad and i worked on this for a little while so i hope it does do well, truly.
taglist: @eroqista
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