#and when mobs house was on fire
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
hamsterwalled · 1 year ago
Text
Watching the Mogami arc feels like a plane crash
0 notes
artiusrattus · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mop cycle doodles !! Plus saiki k
27 notes · View notes
retro-animes · 3 months ago
Text
finally finishing mob psycho after -checks calendar- 4 years of not finishing it and MAN…..
can’t believe I left off in season 2 right before the good shit starts LOL
1 note · View note
itsthewritergal · 1 year ago
Text
don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader
Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it
TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)
ENJOY!!
:)
Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 
“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 
“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 
“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 
“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 
“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 
Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 
“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 
“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 
“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 
“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 
“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked
“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 
“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 
“It was just while I went to work Buck”
“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 
“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 
Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 
“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 
“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 
“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 
“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 
“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 
“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 
— — — 
The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 
When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 
“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 
“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 
“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 
“Have I done something wrong?” 
“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 
“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 
“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 
“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 
“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 
“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 
The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 
“Hello?” 
“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 
“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 
“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 
“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 
“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 
As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 
“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 
“Thanks Steve” 
After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 
“I got fired” She said quietly, 
“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 
“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 
“Bullshit” 
“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 
“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 
— — — — — 
Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 
She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 
“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 
“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 
“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 
“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 
“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 
“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 
“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”
Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 
“You’re not?” 
“No, doll I’m not” 
“Oh” 
“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 
“Nothing’s going on” 
“Doll I know” 
“Bucky nothing is going on”
“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 
“You got someone to follow me” 
“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 
“Fair enough” 
“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 
“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 
“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 
“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 
“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 
“Bucky please”
“It’s already done” 
“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 
“No” Bucky said calmly 
“No?” 
“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 
— — — — 
That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 
“Bucky?” 
“Yes doll?” 
“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 
“Doll, I’d be delighted” 
2K notes · View notes
norikuna · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
going to a cafe with the jujutsu kaisen men a/n: (based on irl experience with a wide variety of subpar men) 😭 gojo's order being my order...aurkay!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
gojo — def the type to walk in and push his sunglasses down to check out the place. his order def goes something like a venti caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut, and a little caramel swirl at the top. smiles and is friendly to all the baristas, he's never rude to workers. tells the barista is gojo, with an o. whoever's unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him is doomed to hear him wax poetic about how coffee beans are the soul of the earth, and its 'really deep, you wouldn't get it lol'. if you order a black coffee, he'll ask if everything is okay at home. can't leave the cafe without ordering a $8.00 sweet treat and then wondering why all his purchases are adding up
geto — walks in as if he's a regular and tells the barista that he'll have his 'regular'. the barista has never seen him before. probably orders a flat white, double shot of espresso, no foam. he always says he doesn't have to pretend to like foam because he's chill like that. he'll ask for the wifi password, but only so he can show off how good he is at working in a cafe, but his ass is on coolmathsgames. will nod and pretend to care about whatever you're saying but he's still thinking about coolmathsgames. will also drop random metaphors like 'life is just like coffee. you either take it strong or with sugar.' you tell him to save the bad metaphors for his cult.
nanami — doesn't wander or hesitate when he enters the cafe. checks his watch every five minute. orders a black coffe, medium, and adds one packet of sugar. he's pretty good at ordering what he wants efficiently, and it leaves even the barista worried. he's here to relax so don't ask him any unnecessary question because this man needs a break. actually enjoys eavesdropping on people's conversations, and ends up tilting his angle to snoop on gossip better. avoids small talk like its another curse. you can't really make him react too much in a cafe, unless you spill coffee on his freshly pressed suit. will be passive aggressive and suggest that the cafe chooses better music. likes a good, dependable pastry. apple danishes are a favourite.
sukuna — prefers tea, without debate. but still orders relatively normal things. likes a good latte with chocolate syrup. but the king of curses kinda has to look cool, so he powers his way through a black coffee, with no sugar or milk. you swear his eyes are tearing up as he pretends to like it. after every sip of coffee, he sighs really loudly and it gets a bit annoying. even after you ask what's wrong, he says its nothing and continues to sigh loudly. nanami may be the one who eavesdrops, but sukuna is the one who interferes. will turn around in his chair to give unsolicited advice, but he genuinely thinks he's being helpful by telling schoolgirls to buy cleavers to chop their friends' hands off. is mildly offended when they move tables and give him weird looks. passes loud comments on other people and tells couples when he thinks they will breakup. attempts to connect to the wifi three times before threatening to burn the router.
toji — the barista asks if he wants a pastry with his drink and he asks 'do i look like the type of man to eat a muffin?' but if they're free, he'll take two. sits with his back to the wall like he's in a mob movie. god help anyone who sits too close to him, he really just doesn't trust anyone in his personal space. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of others until he's had at least three sips of his coffee. you could tell him his house is on fire, and he’d just mutter that he can't do anything about it now. types the wifi password on his phone with one finger like a caveman. tells parents to 'control their spawn' but entertains kids with coin tricks when no-one is looking. sometimes struggles to fit the lid on his go-to cup, and refuses to asks for help. wrestles with it for five minutes, getting increasingly annoyed before rushing out the door.
choso (this one is dedicated to pookie @creamflix) — frowns at the menu like it's written in an ancient language, like wtf is affogato. if someone behinds him coughs, he scolds them and says he's going as fast as he cans. spends 10 minutes deciding and then panics at the last second, tells the barista to give him whatever. if the barista asks any follow up questions (like milk preferences) he genuinely short circuits, "what kinds of milk are there?" he's genuinely baffled that there are options beyond 'cow.' he'll point at a pastry and ask what's in it. the barista explains and he replies with 'okay i trust you.' always ends up picking a wobbly table by accident and spends 15 minutes trying to fix it with folded napkins. if someone asks to share his table, he'll look like they just asked for his kidneys. if someone asks for his opinion on his pastry, its always a dumbass cryptic answer like 'its interesting.' uses his phone on full brightness and everyone can see him look up 'how to pronounce cafe au lait.' cleans up after himself because he's nice like that. if the staff get his order wrong, he never says anything even if it tastes like dirt.
416 notes · View notes
sashaisready · 3 months ago
Text
Starting Over: Chapter 4 - Build
Mob!Bucky x Female Reader
Series Masterlist
When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.
Tumblr media
Me again! We’re back. Sorry I know I keep adding new parts but I’ve broken up the final chapter into two as it just keep going and this is a huge bumper one (sorry). I promise there genuinely will only be one more looool. Thanks again for all of your reblogs/comments/love for this story, it means a lot!!
💔
Lou had welcomed you back with open arms, fixing you up with a waitress job at the diner. Of course he had. Lou was like the father you’d never had. His love was one of the few constants in your life.
Mercifully, he didn’t ask you much about Bucky, didn’t chastise you for making a bad choice and getting involved with a mob boss. That wasn’t what Lou was about. He knew that ‘I told you so’ served no purpose, he knew that you were a big girl and there was nothing he could tell you that you didn’t already know yourself. So why bother? All that mattered was that you were here, and you needed him. He would always catch you when you fell.
Going back to waitressing didn’t feel like you’d taken a step back or that you’d somehow failed, if anything it was quite nice to see this former version of your life once more. And you’d missed chatting with the regulars, helping Lou with the accounts, occasionally fighting small fires (both metaphorical and very occasionally, literal). With Bucky you didn’t need to work, which was nice in one way, but you’d missed the structure and purpose your old job had given you. You previously had no interest in daily gossipy lunches with the other mob wives, and there was only so much shopping you could do.
“How did we ever cope without you?” Lou had asked one morning after you’d successfully chased and caught a dine and dasher, and saved hundreds of dollars on the power bill after negotiating a new contract. All before 10am.
You grinned, “I feel the same way about this place”.
You had moved in with Wanda, she had insisted - despite your protests. She and her boyfriend, Vis, gave you the spare room and said you could stay until you got back on your feet. It was small and full of all the extra stuff they couldn’t fit elsewhere in their apartment, but you didn’t care. You would’ve been happy with the couch, or a sleeping bag on the floor.
Nat was equally helpful, sorting you out by buying new clothes and shoes in your size and giving you some of the toiletries and make-up she didn’t use. She even cut and restyled your hair (‘because hair holds memories’, she told you) and took on whichever role you needed. Sometimes that was nights on her couch crying as she held you, other times it was hitting up the bars and trying to forget. She did it all. She had come and got you that morning at the hotel, after you sent her a frantic message from the rickety computer explaining what had happened. She told you she’d be there in 30 minutes…but ended up doing the trip in 20.
One afternoon a week or so later, Bucky’s men radioed him to let them know that there was a redhead in a Mercedes at the front gates demanding to speak to him. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d sighed as he saw her familiar face on the security monitor and told them to let her in. He knew this day would come. He dismissed them, they didn’t need to be here for this.
Nat had parked up and casually exited the car, strolling across the patio as Bucky stood in the doorway and waited for the inevitable. She didn’t keep him waiting long, slugging him across the jaw with a sharp ‘thwack’ causing him to stagger back against the doorframe.
“Got it. Anything else to say?” he groaned.
She nodded and then kneed him hard in the groin, turning on her heel as she left him in a crumpled heap and ambled back to her car.
“I warned you this would happen if you hurt her”, she called out calmly without looking back.
“Always good to see you, Nat”, Bucky managed to eke out as she slammed the car door.
The generosity of them all was overwhelming, you knew how lucky you were. It’s often said that you don’t know who your true friends are until you fall on hard times, and your friends had proved themselves tenfold. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to repay their kindness.
💔
It had been about six weeks since the night at the hotel when he started coming to the diner. No goons or hangers-on, just him. Which was almost unheard of, given his position.
The first time was a Friday morning, around 9am. He sat in the corner booth, head buried in the menu.
“I can kick him out, hon’, I’m not scared of him”, Lou had snarled as he glared over at the man in the booth.
“It’s okay, Lou. I can handle him,” you told him gently, giving his arm a reassuring stroke.
You took a deep breath as you approached his table. You couldn’t see his face, just his hands, an eerie mirror of the first time you’d met.
“What can I get you?” you asked as you readied your pad and pen, your voice surprisingly even, in spite your stomach’s somersaults.
He lowered the menu slowly and you couldn’t deny it was good to see him again. His blue eyes shone, the former dusting of stubble over his chin and jawline now a fuller beard - just as tantalising as it had always been. A few strands of his hair had come away from the carefully styled gel, framing his face perfectly. Some of your former anger towards him bubbled away beneath the surface, but you couldn’t deny you had also missed him. You had loved him, after all.
The two of you shared a knowing smile.
“You know there are like…hundreds of other breakfast places in this city, right?” you teased, but half-serious.
“I do…but this is the only one that gets my eggs just right,” he grinned back.
“Mmm. I’ll pass your compliments onto the chef. You still want the usual?”
“Please”.
You scribbled down the familiar order onto the page. It felt strange to write it down again, it had been a long time since you’d done that for him.
“Are you going to behave?” you questioned, arms folded.
“Mostly”.
“You’d better. Lou will have your ass if you don’t” you scoffed.
“I don’t doubt it”.
“And Bucky, if you’re here to-” you began, your face betraying the pain that still lurked within you.
“I’m not”, he cut you off. “Just breakfast. I promise”.
You nodded, pressing your lips together with trepidation. The two of you watched the other for a few seconds.
“Well, okay, that’ll be right out”.
You turned and put his order into the kitchen. You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching.
“Here you go”.
You returned to the booth a little later, laying out the plates and re-filling his coffee, he thanked you and pulled a napkin from the dispenser.
“I like your new hair”, he said as he began to cut up his food, his eyes not leaving the table.
“Thanks. I like your new beard”.
“Thanks. Business going okay here?”
“Doing well. Yours?”
“Same old, same old…”
“And…Rumlow?” you asked, your throat catching a little as you said his name.
“Terminated” he replied coldly as he took a sip of coffee.
“Yes…I presumed so. HYDRA?”
“I finally cut off all of those heads”.
“I hope you mean metaphorically”.
“Mostly. The girls good? Vis?”
“All good. Steve? Sam?”
“Also good”.
“Good”.
“Good”.
“Well…good to catch up. Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy”.
“Thanks”.
You waited for some big trick or reveal, but it never came. He ate his meal, drank another coffee refill, paid the bill, tipped, and left within the hour. Like any other customer. Lou was sceptical, and so were you – but there nothing to suggest it was anything else but breakfast…like he said.
And that’s how it was every Friday after that. He’d come in at 9am on the dot, sit in the same booth. Order the usual. You were always his waitress. Everything was the same, every week. The other regulars knew to avoid sitting at his table at that time. The other servers would barely bat an eyelid as he strolled in, taking for granted that you’d be along shortly to put his order in – even if he wasn’t in your section that morning. And it was…fine. He didn’t try and do anything more, didn’t ask you to meet anywhere or for a chance to talk. You initially thought it would be hard to see him again, but it was okay. Maybe a future where the two of you just pleasantly co-existed was possible.
The two of you would chat. Just small talk at first. Occasionally a joke. Even Lou would chat to him sometimes, he was still wary of Bucky but more open to him than he was previously. He certainly didn’t mind him spending money in his restaurant.
Weeks soon became months. Seasons changed. Still, he came in every week, rain or shine. Plates and plates of eggs eaten; endless coffee mugs refilled. He didn’t ever skip it, he was never sick, never seemed to take vacations. He showed up every time. Even if you weren’t there.
The small talk eventually evolved, so slowly you barely noticed it happen. You chatted more about the old times, memories started to feel fonder rather than sad reminders of what was lost. He told you anecdotes about Steve and Sam. You told him about Wanda and Vis, about Nat. You laughed uproariously one morning over the story of Sam’s disastrous vacation involving a mistaken suitcase and an overzealous TSA agent. It was nice to just sit and talk with him, just be with him. No expectations or obligations. You hadn’t forgiven him. You weren’t sure you ever could. But you had missed him. And seeing him for an hour every week, on your turf, just shooting the breeze – that was nice.
“So, you seeing anyone?” you asked one morning as you sat across from him in the booth and sipped your drink, your break coinciding with the end of his meal. You weren’t sure where it came from, but it popped out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. The curiosity was eating you alive. You seemed to talk about everything apart from his love life.
He firmly shook his head, “nope”.
You frowned. “Really? When was the last time you went on a date?”
“With you,” he replied in that no-nonsense tone of his.
You cocked your head, peering over at him in disbelief.
“But Bucky…”
“What? I’m not interested in anyone else”.
“But we’re not together. And it’s been months”.
“I know”, he replied stoically as he sipped his coffee. His eyes seemed to be studying you.
“And we’re not getting back together…”
“I know”.
“But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, but I-I don’t like this. It feels like a ploy, somehow. To push me into taking you back” you stammered, your finger dancing on the rim of your mug.
“It’s not. It’s just a fact. I didn’t even bring it up, you did”.
He was frustratingly calm and unperturbed, finishing his breakfast like this was just some casual conversation about the weather or a movie he’d seen.
“So…what, you’re never gonna date anyone again? Is that it?” you scowled.
He shrugged, “I never said that. It’s just not something I’m looking to do right now. Work is taking up most of my time. Plus, I’m in therapy, working through a few things. I’d rather be in a better place before I start dating again. Learn from my past mistakes”.
“Oh…” you responded in surprise, “well…that’s very mature of you. And is it…helpful?”
“Mmm, pretty eye opening,” he nodded as he took another sip of his coffee, “I’d recommend it to anyone,” he looked at you pointedly.
You felt the heat at your cheeks, perfectly aware that he was suggesting you do the same. And he was probably right. But you didn’t like the potential to appear vulnerable in front of him, so you merely shrugged and went back to rubbing your coffee cup. You were genuinely pleased for him…it was just unfortunate that your break-up was the catalyst. You felt a wave of grief roll through you.
You paused for just a beat, again unable to stop your word vomit.
“Are you gonna ask if I’m seeing anyone?”
“No”.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s none of my business. You can date whoever you want”, he shrugged, keeping his attention on his plate.
You frowned. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Yes. I just want you to be happy, doll”.
“Bullshit!” you scoffed, “you once picked a man up by his ankles and dipped his head in the toilet because he grabbed my ass at that party…”
“Well, that was deserved. And I didn’t flush it on him, so he got off easy…”
You pointed an accusatory finger at him across the table. “Buck…I know you. What’s your game, here?”
He sighed heavily, taking a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. His eyes finally moved up from his plate to meet yours. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just like being with you? In whatever form I can? That maybe I’m happy just getting this time with you every week, no matter what happens between us?”
“And that’s enough for you?” you asked incredulously.
He shifted in his seat, his tone suddenly very serious.
“Look, doll. I’m always going to love you. And I’m always going to be honest with you. If you turned around tomorrow and you told me you wanted to give things another shot – sure, I’d bite your hand off to accept. But I live in the real world. And I know you aren’t likely to forgive me for what I did, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. I’m just happy to have you in my life in some way, even if that’s just talking to you every Friday while I have my breakfast”.
You blinked back at him, unsure whether to take him at his word or if this was some manipulation tactic. The word ‘love’ echoed in your ears, and you had to shake it off that he said he still felt that way about you. Maybe this was all some trick. You knew you couldn’t trust him anymore.
But as you looked into his eyes, for a moment his sentiment felt…genuine. Real. Maybe he was telling the truth.
“Fine”, you sighed as you took a sip from your cup, “I get paid to be here either way…”
💔
A few more months passed, it had been nearly a year since the break-up. Bucky remained a weekly customer but nothing else. You’d finally moved out of Wanda’s into your own place – a shitty, cramped studio apartment was the best you could do on a waitress wage and tips – but it was yours. It had been such a long time since you’d had your own space, you loved every meagre inch.
You'd also started therapy, to help get your head around your childhood and abandonment issues - to help understand why you were always ready to run and expect everything to collapse. Bucky was right, it was valuable - if not hard going. But you knew it was helping, even though nothing could be 'fixed' overnight.
You still visited Wanda and Vis regularly. In fact, you were over there laughing with Wanda and making an early dinner when you got the call that Friday evening. She knew something terrible had happened from the way your face fell, your eyes widening with shock as you listened to the voice on the other end telling you whatever horror story it was. Seconds later you were rushing out of the front door and trying to wrangle on your coat and grab your bag, as she called out to you in a panic just steps behind.
“It was a massive heart attack,” the doctor had said as she eyed the clipboard in front of her. “He was lucky that a passerby on the street called an ambulance, if he’d been alone…he may not have been able to call himself, and if it had been too late…”
You had not been at the hospital long, sweating and panting in your rush to get down there. Your head fuzzy, unable to fully take in what you’d been told. The doctor was still talking, her voice an unidentifiable drone in your ears as you concentrated all your efforts on staying upright. You tugged off your coat, suddenly far too hot. The hospital felt like a furnace, suffocating and stifling. You were dizzy, everything felt blurred.
A couple of chairs sat a few feet away along the sterile-looking hallway, you plopped down into one and put your head in your hands.
“Can she see him?” Wanda asked the doctor, her hands patting your shoulders supportively.
“He’s stable, but the team are just doing some observations on him. Plus, he needs to rest, and might be feeling groggy after the meds. He’ll be out for a good while. It might take some time to be conscious and lucid again, so-”
“I’ll wait,” you said defiantly, the first time you’d spoken since you got there. “However long it takes”.
“Yes, I understand. And you’re his…friend?”
“Daughter,” you corrected. “I’m Lou’s daughter. Well…good as. He doesn’t have any other family. Neither of us do…”
The doctor nodded kindly, pointing out the coffee machine across the hall and leaving you to it.
💔
Wanda waited with you for a while, but she had a work event that night. She insisted she’d stay but you waved her off, telling her you’d check in with her later. She’d been planning that event for months. Lou would be mad at her for missing it, let alone over him. And you meant it, you didn’t want her missing it because of you.
So, she left. Leaving you by yourself in the hard chair with the plastic cup of lukewarm motor oil masquerading as coffee. Nat was out in the Bahamas with some hottie for the week, and you didn’t really want to bother Vis, so you sat quietly alone. You kept sane by reminding yourself that Lou was stable, and his prognosis looked good. He would be okay. He would. He’s made of strong stuff.
Another hour went by, and you couldn’t help your tears from falling as you began to work yourself up worrying, exacerbated by the fact you hadn’t eaten and had nobody around to stop you from spiralling. Wanda had sent a few texts, but you knew she was busy and didn’t need you distracting her. You just wished you had someone to talk to. Or not even talk to, just be with. You squeezed your phone in your hands as if willing the idea that someone would suddenly call you out of the blue. A friend you’d forgotten, a long-lost family member. But there was nobody.
Well, almost nobody.
You pulled your purse onto your lap and dug through, retrieving your wallet at the bottom. You opened it up and checked each card holder until you found what you were searching for, slightly worn and torn tucked behind the library card you barely used, but the details still clear as day.
JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES
Director of 107 Inc.
You had scooped up the card after he left it in the hotel room. It was a bit of a split decision, you’d nearly tossed it in the trash but changed your mind at the last second and jammed it into your wallet, not really thinking about why. You hadn’t looked at it since, you’d never transferred his number into your phone, or even spoken to him outside of Fridays at the diner. But he had become something of a friend over the last few months, and you were surprised to find yourself looking forward to seeing him every week. It was as if you’d gotten to know each other again from scratch, a slow-burn friendship grown over time – the complete opposite of your initial whirlwind relationship, where heat had won out over foundations. But now, you felt you knew him differently. It was funny how you get to know somebody without the chemistry and physical attraction fogging up your brain.
Was this stupid? Were you asking for trouble? But…it would be nice to talk to someone. Just a phone call, nothing more. You took a deep breath and punched the numbers into the keypad before you could talk yourself out of it.
“Hello?” came his gruff voice in your year after two rings.
You sat upright, surprised he had even answered at all – let alone so fast. You hadn’t really thought about what you were going to say.
“Hey, Buck, I…” you squeaked, unable to mask the emotion in your voice.
“Doll?” his voice immediately softened, “what is it? Are you okay?”
“Yeah…well, no, actually. I’m at Mount Sinai…uh…Lou-uh, Lou had a big heart attack and I’m at the hospital and hesreallysickandI-I…”
You sobbed, your words melting into one as the pain of saying them out loud hit home, “I’m sorry I…”
“Hey. It’s okay. Take a moment for me, alright? Take a deep breath doll…”
You closed your eyes, inhaling and exhaling, blowing the air out of your lips like he said. You did it a few times, feeling slightly better afterwards,
“Good, that’s good,” Bucky told you. “Are you by yourself? Are Wanda and Nat there with you?”
“No…Wanda is working, Nat’s away. It’s fine…I just…”
“I’m so sorry about Lou, doll”, he said tenderly. “Do you want me to come down there?”
“No…no…it’s okay…I just. I just wanna talk,” you replied, wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand.
“Yeah…yeah, we can do that. What shall we talk about?”
You sighed, “I don’t know. Anything. Anything that isn’t hospitals or heart attacks…or food. Because I haven’t eaten and I’m starving.”
“Alright. Hmm. Well…I had to break up a fight between Thor and Scott today, if that helps distract you…”
“What? But Thor is twice Scott’s size. That was mean of him…”
“No…Scott started it. Said Thor was mouthing off about something or other and it all blew up. Scott swung for him”.
“What?? Is he insane?” you practically shrieked, the beginnings of a giggle forming in your throat as you tried to imagine Scott trying to land a punch as Thor towered above him.
“I guess so. But they worked it out. Last time I saw them they were laughing, and Thor was swinging him from his shoulders”.
You laughed. A proper, deep belly laugh. It felt good. Cathartic. You could practically see some of the tension leave your body.
“Well, I’m glad they figured it out. What else did you do today, Buck?”
“Hm. Not a lot. Mostly work. I went to the park. Just to get some air. Went to that duck pond you like and sat on the bench for a while”.
You smiled, “I love that pond”.
“I know. Remember that time you nearly fell in trying to help that duckling trapped in the weeds?”
“I do. I remember that you had to catch me and I accidentally splashed pondwater on your suit as I stumbled…” you laughed fondly.
“Not the worst thing I’ve had my dry cleaner remove for me. And we got the duckling back to its mom, even if she was furious at us”.
“She tried to bite you…”
“She succeeded”.
You both chuckled for a moment as you reminisced, then it suddenly went quiet between you both. You held the phone tightly to your ear, unsure and a little lost for words. It felt odd to feel tongue-tied around Bucky, it had always been so easy to know what to say to him. Despite how easy it was to slip back into nostalgia just now, and your newfound friendship, there was still something of a gulf between the two of you. You had been apart for so long now.
“…thanks, Buck,” you whispered.
“Anytime, doll”.
💔
After you hung up with Bucky, a nurse came over and you shot up out of your chair with anticipation. She told you that Lou was doing well but was slowly coming around after a heavy sedative. He should be ready for visitors in another hour or so. You sighed heavily but nodded grimly, as long as Lou was alright – that was all that mattered.
You sank back into your faithful chair, pulling out your rapidly dying phone again and wishing you had the foresight to bring a charger when you left Wanda’s. Or some food, at least.
You continued your vigil in the unfeeling hospital hallway, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. But you had to admit, speaking to Bucky had raised your spirits a little. It reminded you of the old days, when he was an anchor in a storm, a calming presence when things were tough. Part of you had missed that.
You’d just closed your eyes a little while later when you heard someone call your name.
“Still hungry?”
Your eyes filled with tears as your head snapped to see who it was.
There stood Bucky dressed in his off-duty grey sweats, his unstyled hair flopping across his forehead. In his hand was a brown bag, you instantly recognised the brand of your favourite take-out place printed across the front. It smelled heavenly.
“Buck…?” you mumbled in shock, not quite believing he was there, “what…what are you doing here?”
He shrugged, “you said you were alone and hadn’t eaten. I know how you get when you’re anxious. Figured you could use this”.
It wasn’t clear if he meant the food or the company, but in that moment, you were grateful for both.
He sat in the chair next to yours and began to methodically remove the food tubs, placing them on your lap and opening the lids as he pulled out a fork and napkins.
“Hope you still like this one,” he said as he revealed your usual order.
“I do”, you replied, your voice small.
“Good. Dig in.”
You began to eat slowly, feeling strangely self-conscious about your audience. Fortunately, he pulled out a tub of his own which took the focus off you. The two of you sat side by side and ate in silence.
“Thanks for this, Bucky,” you mumbled between mouthfuls.
“Anytime. Any news on Lou?”
“Should be ready for visitors soon”.
“Well, that’s good. He’s a tough old bastard.”
You both finished your meals and Bucky got to work tidying up the empty containers and old napkins and depositing them in the trash. You thanked him as he sat back down.
“Hey…thanks again, that was really thoughtful - but really, you don’t have to stay,” you shrugged, “you probably have a busy night”.
He shook his head, “nope. I’m wide open”.
He stared straight ahead and leaned back, his bulk squeezing up against the armrests of the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“What do you mean when you said, ‘I know how you get when you’re anxious?’” you asked him tentatively.
“Just…I know how you can spiral when you’re stressed. Figured you could use some company is all,” he casually as he moved his hair away from his face.
“T-thanks,” you responded, your throat dry, “I’m not really up to chatting much right now, though”.
He was nonchalant, “that’s fine”.
The two of you sat side by side, nothing said.
It was awkward at first, sharing this cold and sterile space with your ex, worries about Lou weighing you down. But then after some time…it was sort of…okay? He didn’t try to initiate any conversation; he didn’t show any signs of boredom – even though he must’ve been feeling it. Didn’t complain. Didn’t check his watch. He just sat and waited with you, his arms propped up casually on the armrests and his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. You were grateful that he’d heeded your request not to speak as you didn’t have the brain power to labour a conversation. You didn’t fully understand why, but him just physically being there was strangely comforting - as odd as that was to admit to yourself.
Eventually the nurse returned, her smile warm as she greeted you.
“Oh, you have a friend. Right on time, Lou is ready to see you now”.
You quickly got to your feet and dashed after her as she led you to Lou’s room. Bucky followed close behind.
Your heart sank when you finally saw him, covered in wires and tubes, his face suddenly much older than his years. You gasped, rushing over to his bedside.
“Hey, kiddo” he wheezed, a smile creeping over his face despite the obvious effort it required, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
“Oh God, Lou, I was so scared…I thought you’d…” you took his hand in yours, unable to say the words out loud as the tears started again.
You felt like you’d cave in on yourself from the anguish, but a steadying hand found its way to your shoulder from behind you. Bucky squeezed once, a small reminder of his presence, then pulled his hand away. It was grounding, helpful.
“Hey there hon, I’m doin’ okay”, Lou rasped as he weakly tried to grip your hand in return. “But I guess this is a good reminder to lay off the bacon, huh?” he chuckled before the effort caused him to wheeze.
You smiled faintly and patted his hand, careful to mind the IV by his fingers, “you gotta start taking better care of yourself, okay? No more greasy breakfasts at work…”
He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over to Bucky behind you, “you brought company…”
“Oh, yeah”, you turned to gesture to Bucky, “he sat with me and brought me dinner while I waited”.
Lou nodded, a flash of something in his eyes you couldn’t place. “You takin’ care of her?”
Bucky nodded in return, “of course”.
Lou inhaled deeply, “well…alright, I’m glad she’s not been by herself”, he begrudgingly offered. “I wouldn’t want her out in the cold…so to speak” he said pointedly, a clear reference to that awful night one year before.
“Rest assured…that would never happen,” Bucky responded coolly. “But I understand your concern”.
You watched as the two men stared at each other, something resembling an understanding seemed to lay between them.
💔
You sat with Lou for as long as you could before the doctor shooed you and Bucky out, explaining Lou needed to rest. You promised you’d be back tomorrow.
“Oh hon…no. Don’t waste your time on an old man like me,” he teased playfully.
“Oh, stop that. You know I’m going to be here with balloons and grapes, the whole shebang…” you grinned, putting your coat on.
“Good to see you, Lou” Bucky chimed in as he shook Lou’s hand, “you’ll be fighting fit in no time”.
Unbeknownst to you as you were busy with your bag and coat, Lou used a finger to beckon Bucky to move closer. Bucky obliged, leaning forward so that Lou could speak to him. His words were hushed but clear.
“Hurt her again and I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Bad ticker or not. And I don’t care how many of your goons you set on me…”
Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his expression betrayed no emotion, “understood”.
You turned, smiling obliviously at Lou just as Bucky stood back up to full height and cleared his throat. They both smiled back.
“See you tomorrow, Lou”.
“See you, kiddo”.
You left the room with Bucky trailing behind. As a small sob escaped your throat, his hand pressed firmly against your back. A small reminder that he’d shown up for you. He was there.
💔
456 notes · View notes
abbysbug · 10 months ago
Text
streamer!ellie x streamer!reader
Tumblr media
summary: my HCs about streamer!ellie and streamer!reader dating!!
warnings: hints at sexual stuff, lighting people on fire (in minecraft), threatening to bomb people.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
• once you guys start dating, you both constantly talk about each other on stream.
• "y'know, ellie would love this song."
• "me and y/n made something like this the other week."
• "broo, y/n is literally so perfect like im so IN LOVE."
• neither of you ever shut up and luckily your viewers love hearing about your relationship or it would've driven them insane by now.
• ellie and you made a minecraft series together. it was the cutest thing ever. ellie would be mining and killing all the mobs, and you would be building the house and animal pens.
• "y/n, baby. c'mre i got a little gift for you."
• ellie would run over to you and would be holding a flint n steel.
• "what are you-"
• she would then light you on fire and run away giggling. of course, you would chase her down and kill her.
• ellie would post about you so much
@carpetmuncherwilliams guys y/n doesnt love me anymore :((
@yngamez replied all i said is that we CANT get a pet pigeon
@carpetmuncherwilliams replied who wants to get me a pet pigeon ill give u a sticker !!!
@yngamez replied if anyone gets her a pet pigeon i will personally find ur IP address and bomb ur house
• you guys moved in with each other two weeks after dating.
• whenever you're streaming, ellie will sometimes sit on your lap for the stream. it's her way of showing everyone that you belong to her. she'd totally make out with you on stream but you're too nervous for that.
• one of your viewers gifted you and ellie a matching 'i love my gf' t-shirts. you both wear it whenever you're streaming.
• whenever you leave hickeys all over ellie's neck, she never covers them up when she streams. she likes to show them off. people do start to tease her for it tho.
@elliesbiglefttoe we all know what type of person ellie is in the bedroom. look at those marks.
@dinosaurmeatss u should change ur name to bottomwilliams instead
• "what the hell guys. im literally a dominant top stop this bullshit, i will personally murder you all. wait am i even allowed to say that? twitch don't ban me."
• ellie gets embarrassed that people are calling her out but you think its hilarious.
@yngamez is my little baby getting upset cause people are calling her out? :((
• "bro, y/n. i will ban you, do NOT test me, right now."
@elliesbiglefttoe oop someones got an attitude
@yngamez replied dw ill deal with that attitude later
• ellie doesnt reply to those messages, but her face does turn a bright pink and she avoids eye contact with her camera for a good 10 minutes.
• you guys are literally the CUTEST couple on the internet. people make edits about you all the time.
• ellie and you have read fanfics out loud on stream.
• “guys im so honoured that you think i’m hot enough to have a fanfic written about me.” ellie would be be giggling.
• “some of these are kinda unrealistic. like why is everyone writing you taller than me?” you’d roll your eyes.
• “cause i am taller.”
• you’d playfully hit ellie on the head “shut up. no, you’re not.”
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
@lavenderhazelsworld @bellaramsgf @ellslvr @lia-winther
1K notes · View notes
butchvampireheimerdinger · 2 days ago
Text
The Great War
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: So this was made in response to a request but it ended up blossoming into a full 2K word fic adjacent and I had to split it into two posts! Anyways, if you enjoy sexy and occasionally soft Sevika, dramatic arguments that result in comfort, and mob-wife vibes… enjoy!
Warnings: Not smut but mentions of sex and both characters are D O W N B A D.. A lot of cussing and mentions of violence.
Pairing: Butch!Sevika X Femme!Reader who is super outgoing and forward
🂱 So the two of you’ve met briefly around town, kinda running in the same circles. You notice her right away but you don’t actually talk until she shows up at work — The Last Drop.
🂱 You’re a server and your charisma, magnetism, and punchy/blunt sort of energy makes you well suited to hospitality. You’re the bubbly outgoing type of waitress who gets their table laughing and in a good spirits with ur contagious good vibes.
🂱 You beat the other waitress to claim Sevika’s table, and it’s on.
🂱 She would get a kick out of it — your shamelessness. She really likes the forward thing, timidity makes her roll her eyes. Life’s too short for playing hard to get! Plus, she’s an adult. And a literal revolutionary who quite literally does not have the time for all that.
🂱 Before you learn each others names you endearingly and lightheartedly call her “butchy,” or something like that. She calls you sweetheart.
🂱 You’d pour her beers on the house. You’d lean over the bar counter on ur elbows, making sure ur titties look good and perky. And if it was just the two of you, she would not hide her ogling.
🂱 It’d be a bit of a game to you two. Making the other person crack, being the first to back down/get all blushy. You’d be all flirty-flirty over the bar counter, she’d pull you into her lap during her card game. It’s like how straight guys play gay chicken. Except ur actually gay so it would just be chicken.
🂱 And she’s smoking indoors, as per us. You ask if you can have a hit. She shotguns it into ur mouth and you blow it upward, once again drawing attention to your décolletage, to the girls hehe
🂱 Eventually she just asks you straight up if you wanna spend the night. Maybe you take her up on it, maybe you don’t. Either way, she’s not the fuckboy (fuckbutch?) hit it n quit it type. She’s an adult woman with emotional intelligence and communication skills goddammit and she’s gonna ask you to dinner.
🂱 Takes u to the fanciest place in the undercity, orders everything on the menu trying to flex her wallet and impress u. Whether or not u ask for it she gets you one of those weird rich people desserts where they make part of the preparation an “experience.” like they pour hot liquid over a hollow chocolate shell and it cracks open and reveals a little cake inside. Or something involving a blowtorch.
🂱 Anyways this whole time ur just rubbing ur lil high heeled foot up her pant leg under the table and twirling ur hair, touching her arm, etc. Naughty girl — she mock-scolds you telepathically with a dommy little eyebrow raise thing.
“Here? Now? I pull out all the stops to give you a magical evening and you already wanna leave and bang it out. That’s real classy, sweetheart.”
🂱 You’re both rather bold and upfront, obviously. Strong personalities, fire sign energy — which means you butt heads often. Your relationship is super intense and fiery so every day is like a soap opera, or like The Real Mob Wives of Staten Island in levels of drama.
“Why the hell didn’t you come home last night? And why did i have to find out from Vivi that she saw you cracking skulls in a fishing boat by the pier?”
“Babygirl I told you I was taking care of business. Sweetheart, uprisings don’t happen overnight, it’s all about biding time and strategically applying political pressure in Topside-”
“Jesus, Mary, and the goddamn camels you and your strategic goddamn pressure. I’ll tell you I’ve fucking had it with you and your fucking pressure. You wanna make me look like an idiot? When me and my girlfriends are sitting drinking mimosas for brunch at Jarrod's and they ask me ‘Y/N where’s that woman of yours?’ And i have to look them in the eyes and say “Clint Eastwood was unable to join us as she had a prior engagement strategically applying pressure. To the back of enforcers’ skulls. With a fucking baseball bat. Like a common thug. Mind you, I’m a classy lady all by my lonesome on a Sunday fucking morning-"
“Classy lady I’ll fucking say. You’d think I plan on growing old with Mrs. Fucking Vanderbilt, the way you want to buy ten thousand pairs of red high heels-“
“Omg babe you wanna grow old with me?”
“-that all look exactly the fucking same, by the way. ‘Burnt orange’ and ‘vermillion’ and ‘chartreuse’ or whatever the fuck — You know it’s just fucking red.
“Chartreuse is green, since you wanna be a smartass,”
“Don’t gaslight me, woman. Where do you even plan on wearing those? We live in an oversized sewer pipe. Not the magical land of Oz. I told you who i was when you met me. I told you this is what I do. And you better get used to it if you wanna keep charging my card at every boutique within a ten mile radius,”
“Or what? Gonna give me the spiel again, talk me to death about the uprising and the political elites and the our time is imminent, y/n. Gonna threaten me like you do your little fishing buddies? Gonna apply me some strategic fucking pressure?”
“That’s enough.” Sevika hissed, scary calm. She kicks the pantry door shut and whips around, pointing at you with her cigarette. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re done, Missy.”
“Beg pardon? I’ll decide when I’m done, thank you very much. You’ve got some nerve telling me when to speak when I can’t even reach you half the time. I had to track down your little boss the other day — brought him a lovely casserole — and ask if he could pass on a message for me! ‘Excuse me Mr. Scaryman Eye of Zaun, sir, could you possibly ask Zorro if she might head home as soon as she’s done busting kneecaps? And to arrive in a clean shirt, as my parents are in town and they prefer to greet their daughter-in-law when she’s not covered in someone’s intravenous blood. Thank you kindly.’”
“You showed up at work? Wait- you talked to Silco? Babe I told you to stay the fuck away from there!”
“Please. He may be the kingpin of the city or whatever, but I make a gorgeous quiche. Trust me, babe. Once he tastes my cooking, I am henceforth immune to whatever machiavellian basement torture chamber you brutes probably use as your break room.”
🂱 Sorry guys, got a little carried away there. Point is, one minute you’re screaming at each other and dramatically slamming doors and throwing shit, the next you’re fucking on the kitchen floor like the world’s about to end. You guys basically co-authored the book on how to be an absolute nightmare of an upstairs neighbor. The entire building feels the floor shaking and no one knows if the screaming is just you guys having a little too much fun for 2pm on a Tuesday, or if they’re gonna see this on the news tomorrow.
🂱 Kidding! At the end of the day, trust and loyalty are the foundations of your relationship. You love each other wildly, deeply, and passionately.
🂱 Sevika has a strict no going to bed angry policy. If you’d gotten into it that evening you might give her the cold shoulder, curl up facing away from her in the quiet moments before bed. She’s reading by the lantern on the bedside table — an upcycled barstool the two of you stole from your old job at The Last Drop one evening when you were in a particularly silly mood.
🂱 She catches your gaze a couple times as you stare over your shoulder to see if she’s paying attention to you, and then you immediately turn and go back to ignoring her. She takes off her reading glasses, tosses her book onto the bed, and rolls over to you, wrapping her arm around you from the back.
“Hey baby?” She kisses your shoulder and the back of your head since you still won’t look at her, and she continues. “Love of my life? Light of my world? Keeper of my soul and partner in crime through the sea of trials we call the fucked-up game of life?” You turn slightly to give her a glaring side eye.
“…What do you want.”
“Still mad at me, babygirl?”
“Not at all. Why on earth would I be mad?”
“I’m sorryyy,” she draws it out, cooing at you all soft and sing-songy. If the ne’erdowells who often got their asses handed to them by her and her little team could see this Sevika, they’d think they lost their mind. Hell, if any punk on the street could see this Sevika they’d think they lost their mind. It made your knees weak the way she undid herself and softened for you. For only you. You fought the smile forming and she continued murmuring against your skin.
“It’s all this bullshit at work Silco’s got me taking care of. I’m neglecting my little lady, I’m stretched so thin. It’s too much…”
“Too much…?” You echo. “Talk to me, love. Silco’s not letting you catch a breather?”
She grunts in affirmation against your shoulder: “Mm-hrmm”
“Does my baby have the whooole wide world on her poor, tired, buff, strong, sexy shoulders-EEK!” She gleefully flips you over to face her, making you cackle. You’ve been disarmed. At her mercy. You always were.
She leans forward to bonk her forehead against yours.
“Glad someone in this cruel world finally understands me and my line of work,” she says, half-joking.
“No one understands the importance of your job better than me, babe.” You continue, at this point unable to remove the sarcasm from your tone even if you tried. She nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder facedown, head supported by the cushiness of your tit. You weave your fingers in her hair.
“The honorable burden of great duty… The unfathomable smothering of moral obligation, even. One might describe it as an immensely… strategic pressure-”
“-For FUCK’s SAKE”
“You have worker’s rights, you know! Demand an hour off — paid — in your underground torture chamber-breakroom. You’re entitled to relax and sip coffee as you watch the bodies hit the floor, goddammit!”
Feigning exasperation, Sev dramatically collapses backward starfish-style on the old-ass creaky-ass decrepit-ass daddy longlegs convention of a double bed the two of you share; in a shithole apartment, in a shady-ass neighborhood, in a collapsing city. That’s how it was between the two of you. Underneath it all, she trusts that you’ll always be there to kiss her wounds, to make sure her collar is straight and there’s no shmutz on her face. You trust that at the end of the day, it’s you she’s coming home to.
224 notes · View notes
wafflefries13 · 7 months ago
Text
Go For It, Jamil!
Tumblr media
Summary: Scarabia hears their Vice-House Warden has a crush and are a little too enthusiastic to help out.
AN: I really like the idea that the dorm mob loves their wardens and vice wardens. It makes me think of the tsum event where all of Savanaclaw was in tears because they thought Leona got turned into a little burrito plush, lol.
I got Omar and Babkak from the Aladdin Broadway musical. There's also a Kassim there but I thought it sounded too close to Kalim so just kept it to the two of them.
Warnings: Pining. Apparently I'm really into that. AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.
Spring had come to Night Raven College. With the blossoming trees, chirping birds, and returning sunshine, one thing everyone could count on was Kalim’s annual Welcome Spring party. Of course, he also had a Welcome Autumn, Welcome Winter, Welcome Summer, Farewell End-of-School-Year, Beginning of School, Halloween, New Year's Eve and Day, basically anything party. The difference here was that there were generally more flowers. 
“And we can have the cherry blossom trees around the entrance of the courtyard!” Kalim was saying. Jamil dutifully followed behind him by a few steps, taking down notes for the numerous things they would need to order. “That way when the wind blows the petals will swirl everywhere and it will be super pretty!” 
“MmHmm,” Jamil muttered, only halfway paying attention. 
“And I was thinking the food should be fruit-themed. Blueberries, strawberries, plums, apricots, rhubarb - is rhubarb a fruit? It’s sweet but it’s like celery, right? Cause it grows in the ground in a stalk?” 
“It’s a vegetable.” 
“Oh, and pastels! I can get bolts of silk and we can have them hanging from the ceiling in panels and string beads between everything.”
“Sure.”  
“And it’ll be the perfect backdrop when you confess to (Y/N)!” 
Jamil nearly tripped over his own feet. Both of them froze at the sound of a shattering pot. Looking up, Jamil felt dread build in his stomach as a wide-eyed first-year stared at the two of them, obviously having overheard Kalim’s (obviously totally ridiculous) announcement. There was a broken flower pot at his feet. 
“I-Uh-” The first-year stuttered. “Sorry, I’ll get a broom.” He dashed off like his feet were on fire. 
Jamil sighed. The last thing he needed right now were rumors swirling around. “Kalim, what are you talking about?”
Kalim blinked at the retreating student before looking back at Jamil with a beaming smile. “(Y/N)! It’ll all be super romantic, right? And spring’s a time for new beginnings. We’ll have a string quartet and I’ll set up a gazebo with hanging lanterns and you can take her hands and look her in the eyes and say-” 
“Okay, okay, okay!” Jamil quickly said, clapping a hand over Kalim’s mouth before another eavesdropper got the wrong idea. “You have way to clear an image of all this.” 
“Of course! I think it’ll make a great story for your wedding!” 
Jamil heard a gasp. He turned just in time to see the first-year from before ducking behind the corner with another in tow. 
Yup. There was the headache coming. 
“Kalim,” Jamil said, measuring his words as steadily as he could. “I’m not going to confess anything to (Y/N).” 
Kalim pouted. “Aww, why not?” 
“Because I don’t have feelings for her.” 
“What? Of course you do!” 
“I promise I don’t.” 
“Don’t worry, she’ll definitely say yes.” 
“That’s not the problem here.” Jamil sighed. “Look, I get that you have good intentions, but you don’t need to go overboard and be involved in everything. We talked about this, remember? The whole thing about boundaries?” Actually, (Y/N) had mediated that conversation a few days after Jamil’s Overblot. Is that why Kalim had become convinced they had some sort of romantic attraction? Because talking about feelings must lead to the extreme of those feelings? 
Kalim looked chastened, a certain wet puppy dog look that would make most people fold instantly. Jamil was not most people. “Right, I remember. I just…” Jamil waited for Kalim to continue, silently hoping he would just drop it. “I want you to be happy, you know? And I think you’d be really happy with (Y/N)!” 
Jamil looked at Kalim sideways. “It’s more of a two way street, you know.” 
“Well, yeah, but (Y/N) likes you too!” 
Jamil tripped over his own feet again. He felt a strange kind of dread at the way his heart skipped a beat as a warm feeling flooded his chest. 
“She-what-Where did you hear that?” 
Kalim shrugged, smiling coyly. “I can tell. Just like how I can tell you like her.” 
“I don’t,” Jamil said firmly. 
Kalim held up his hands in surrender. “I hear you! Boundaries! I won’t mention it again.” He added under his breath, “Even if I think you two would be really cute together.” 
“I heard that.” 
*
Behind them, hidden in the long shadows of the Scarabia hallways, a cluster of students were beginning to plot. 
*
The next day, Jamil was taking some time to relax between classes. Well, as much as he could relax. Mostly his thoughts were occupied jumping between organizing for the Welcome Spring party, creating a mental schedule of what school projects were do when, planning what he would make Kalim for lunch for the next week-
“Jamil!” 
He turned to see (Y/N) waving at him. He felt his heart start thumping rapidly in his chest. Stop it, He thought. I can’t let Kalim get in my head like that. 
“Hi,” She said, coming up to him. 
“Did you need something?” 
“Not really. Just saw you over here stuck in your own head again.” She elbowed him playfully. Jamil felt himself smile without realizing it and quickly schooled his features to a more serious expression. “Want to take a break? I snagged these cookies from Sam’s. Tomorrow’s the expiration date so I got them on sale.” 
Jamil wrinkled his nose. “Is it worth it?” 
(Y/N) shrugged, taking a bite of a cookie. “It’s in the budget. You know, whenever Crowley actually decides to pay me.” 
“You know, if you’re ever short on food you can always come to Scarabia. If Kalim’s not throwing another party with a buffet I can get you something. I always make extras for Kalim, anyway.” This was not entirely true. Jamil had had practically his entire life to get used to cooking for Kalim, and it was only recently that he had started making larger batches, packaging them up to deliver to a certain magicless prefect who’s nutritional health he definitely didn’t worry about.  
(Y/N) smiled and offered him the cookie bag. “You look after everyone all the time, don’t you?” 
Jamil smiled back and took a cookie. They sat in an alcove in the hallway, chatting about nothing of significance. Jamil told a story about how Floyd had insisted Jamil teach him how to spin on his head during basketball practice and (Y/N) told him stories of her recent trip to Harveston, Epel’s hometown, and the sled race against the surprise Royal Sword Academy students. 
Jamil saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but whatever it was disappeared before he could catch it. “Sorry, what did you say?” 
“Oh, about the stuffed animals. Sebeck won’t admit it, but I think he still has his squirrel plush in his room. I don’t think it’s magic anymore but it is really cute.” 
Jamil heard the drag of a bow on strings and looked around. 
(Y/N) frowned. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.” 
Jamil shook his head. “No, sorry, I’m fine. I thought I heard-” 
Music started to pour around them. Although it was the calming, one might almost say romantic, type, they both still jumped at the sudden noise. Jamil jumped up, looking around, and took a hit of sunflower petals directly to his face. 
“Omar!” Someone hissed. “Be careful!” 
“Sorry, Babkak,” A voice squeaked back. 
Wait, Jamil knew those voices. He whipped around the corner, seeing a group of Scarabia first-years. Several formed a string quartet, softly playing music. The other two had a bucket of flower petals, one of them throwing handfuls in the air while the other directed a zephyr spell to blow them across the hallway. The two froze with wide eyes at the sight of their Vice-House Warden. 
“What,” Jamil said, voice steely and arms crossed. “Are you doing?” 
The string players looked nervously at each other but continued to play. Omar gapped like a codfish. Babkak stood up straight with a confident smile. “We’re setting the mood!” 
“What mood?” “For your confession!” 
Oh. Oh, no. Now Jamil realized how he recognized them. Babkak was the one who dropped the flower pot yesterday and Omar was the one he had dragged with him to eavesdrop. They must have heard what Kalim had said yesterday about him and (Y/N) and taken the wrong idea. And, Jamil justified to himself, it was definitely the wrong idea. 
“Jamil?”  
Jamil turned so fast the first-years were momentarily worried about whiplash. (Y/N) stood at the corner, looking curiously at the impromptu band and flowers. Behind him, Jamil could hear them hastily whispering to each other to keep playing and trying to get the effect of floating flower petals just right. 
“Something going on?” She asked. 
“No!” Jamil said, perhaps a little too quickly. “They were just leaving.” He glared at the first-years. “After they clean this up.” 
(Y/N) took a step forward. Jamil felt his mouth go dry as she reached up and plucked a few stray yellow petals from his hair. “Is this for a botany project or something? Kind of romantic, huh?” 
Jamil felt his face burn with embarrassment. 
“No!” Jamil said, at the same time Babkak said, “Yes!” 
“Okay,” (Y/N) said, rolling closed the half-full bag of cookies. “Well, I should probably get going. I need to see what kind of trouble Grim has gotten into while I was gone. I’ll see you later, Jamil.” She waved to him and then the first-years. 
“What made you think this was a good idea?” Jamil asked, trying very hard not to yell, when (Y/N) was out of earshot. 
“Sorry, sir,” Omar said, dejectedly picking up flower petals. He glared up at Babkak. “I told you we should have gone for the romantic dinner. And rose petals, not sunflowers.” 
Babkak waved his friend off. “Don’t be so cliche. Besides, sunflowers are way better! They’re pretty and you can eat the seeds!” 
“Hey!” Jamil snapped. The two boys looked back up at him while the other first-years were trying to discreetly pack up their instruments. “I asked what you were doing? Did Kalim put you up to this?” 
“No, sir, this was all us!” Babkak said, a little too proudly. “We wanted to help.” “Yeah,” Omar said. “We’re all rooting for you, Vice-House Warden, sir!” The other first-years made noises of agrement. 
“Rooting for me?” 
“With (Y/N), to tell her you love her!” 
Jamil groaned, covering his eyes with his hand and rubbing his temples. “I am not in love with the Prefect.” Jamil missed the skeptical look the two gave each other. “Look, I appreciate the…vote of confidence, but I’m not going to confess anything to anyone any time soon. So whatever else you have planned, or whoever else you told this rumor to, you can give it a break. Understand?” 
“Yes, Vice-House Warden,” They all echoed dutifully. 
As Jamil marched away, Omar leaned over to Babkak. “I’ve got twenty madol that say he confesses before the spring party.” 
*
Jamil’s muscles were burning, and he welcomed it. He needed the distraction after this morning and basketball practice against Floyd in full force was a pretty good diversion. Ace had been uncharacteristically distracted all practice. Although Jamil couldn’t help but notice that Ace seemed to pass a little harder than necessary. 
During a water break, Ace came up to Jamil. He tossed his water bottle between his hands, taking a step away and then closer. 
Jamil knew he would regret it before he even asked, “What’s up, Ace?” 
Ace startled, surprised Jamil had made the first move. “I heard something,” He said. “In potions class today.” 
“Did someone blow up something again? Anyone get turned into an animal or something?” 
Ace pressed his lips together. “Do you like (Y/N)?” 
Jamil couldn’t decide whether to be exhausted, flustered, or annoyed. “Who told you that?” 
Ace’s eyes widened in shock. “You do?!” 
“No!” Jamil snapped back. “People are just going around spreading rumors.” 
“Huh?” Floyd asked, sliding over on the bleachers. “I thought everyone knew already.” 
“Knew?”
Floyd flashed his sharp teeth. “Come on, Sea Snake. Everyone knows you’re, what’s the land term? Head over heels for Shrimpy.” 
Ace dropped his water bottle and jabbed an accusatory finger at Jamil. “I knew it!” 
“You don’t know anything,” Jamil said, shoving Ace’s hand aside. 
“Oh?” Floyd said, leaning in a little too close. “So that means she’s available then?” 
“No!” Ace and Jamil both shouted at the same time. Ace glared at Jamil. A few other members of the basketball club glanced over, snickering to themselves at the outburst. 
Ace puffed out his chest, planting himself solidly in front of Jamil. “Look, (Y/N) is one of my best friends. And if you do anything to mess with her then… then…” Ace fumbled, running out of steam with his threats before catching his second wind. “Then you’ll have to deal with Jack!” 
Jamil crooked an eyebrow. “Jack? Not you or Deuce?” 
Ace shrugged. “Jack’s the biggest. But Deuce did used to be a delinquent. I’ve seen him be pretty brutal when he wants to. And I guess Epel can scrap up too, when Vil isn’t around. Probably couldn’t convince Sebeck to help out, he’d just lecture about a knight’s honor or something. Ooh, Ortho had a blast cannon! So, you know, watch out!” 
“I like how you didn’t put yourself in the line of fire there, Crabby,” Floyd said. He rolled his shoulders. “But you know, I think Shrimpy is pretty great, too. I don’t want to see her sad or anything. So if someone were to maybe break her heart,” He glanced sideways as Jamil with crazed wide eyes. “Can you swim, Sea Snake?” 
Jamil just glowered back at him. “Can everyone just stop talking about (Y/N) today?” 
“People are talking about me?” All three of them jumped. (Y/N) walked into the gym, Grim hanging off her shoulders. “I thought I felt my ears burning.”  
“Shrimpy!” Floyd immediately ran up to her, sweeping her up in a tight squeezing hug. Grim jumped off her shoulders with a yelp. Ace yelled and pulled at Floyd’s jersey, trying to pry them apart. 
(Y/N) weakly patted Floyd’s back with a free hand. “Hi, Floyd, hi, Ace. Sorry, I need Jamil real quick.” 
The two boys froze, slowly turning their heads to stare at Jamil, who was busy hiding his face in his hands. They watched like hawks as (Y/N) walked over to Jamil. 
“Hey,” She said. “You okay?” 
“Fine,” He said, waving her off. “Just one of those days, you know?”
She frowned. “You need me to talk to someone? I can chew out Ace if you want. Floyd is sort of out of my league, though.” 
Jamil sighed a laugh. “No, that’s fine.” 
“Oh! Right! Hang on.” She slung her backpack off her shoulder, reaching in and pulling out a familiar water bottle. “Here, you left this in the library. One of the Scarabia first-years found it and asked me to bring it to you.” 
“Oh, thanks. I was wondering where it was.” Jamil didn’t mention that he hadn’t been in the library at all today. As he reached to take it, their fingers brushed. Jamil grabbed the bottle and jerked back like he had been scorched. His heart was hammering, not from the exercise of basketball practice, and he was momentarily worried (Y/N) would be able to hear it. Not to mention if she would notice how clammy his hands had suddenly become. 
“Well,” (Y/N) said. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair-”
“Wait!” 
The entire basketball team, plus (Y/N) and Grim, turned to the sudden outburst. Babkak had half way thrown himself out of the doorway entrance to the gym, hand extended in a Stop motion. Omar guilty peaked out from the door frame. 
“Uh, I mean,” Babkak said, back peddling. 
“You should stay!” Omar jumped in. “I mean, we should all stay to watch practice! Support your local team and everything!” He weakly punched the air. “Go team?” 
Jamil opened his mouth to chastise them again before (Y/N) spoke, “That sounds fun. I don’t get to see you guys play too often. If that’s okay with you, though.” 
“Oh, um,” Jamil stuttred. 
Floyd jumped up, throwing himself over Jamil’s shoulders and smiling wide. “Of course you can stay! You can watch Sea Snake show off!” 
Jamil elbowed him. “You’re the one who shows off, Floyd.”
(Y/N) shrugged, smiling. (And Jamil definitely didn’t feel his heart flip.) “I don’t have any plans.” 
As everyone got back in position for practice, Ace took his place, whispering to Jamil, “Remember: Ortho has a laser cannon.” 
Jamil rolled his eyes. 
From the corner of his eye, Jamil saw the group of Scarabia first-years shuffle into the bleachers around (Y/N) and Grim. He thought he saw a few of them hiding objects behind their backs, but was pulled back to the game before he could investigate further. 
He lost himself back in the game. Sneakers squeaked against the waxed wooden floor, the bounce of the ball reverberated around the gym, each quick and practiced movement by the players blurring at the edge of Jamil’s vision. Another player passed him the ball. He faked left, turning around Floyd, before lining up a shot at the three point line. He raised the ball, arms tensing in preparation to shoot and- 
A blare of sound echoed through the gym, bouncing off the acoustic walls and tumbling down around everyone in attendance. The ball slipped from Jamil’s hands, falling uselessly in a pathetic arc and bouncing across the court floor. Jamil turned to the bleachers where the noise had come from. The first-years, Jamil now recognized them as the string quartet from earlier, now made up a brass band. The noise he had heard was the blast from a tuba. The rest of the band joined in, trumpets, french horn, and bugle. They started playing a high-energy marching tune. How many instruments did these people know how to play anyway? Omar and Babkak had red and yellow pom poms, waving them enthusiastically. Babkak passed a pair to a bewildered (Y/N). 
“Go, Vice-Housewarden Jamil!” Babkak cheered. 
“Show them who’s boss, sir!” Omar whooped. 
Everyone froze, looking from the impromptu cheering section and band to Jamil then back again. Jamil’s face felt as hot as the Scalding Sands desert at noon. It didn’t help at all when Floyd started cackling. 
He began to march over to confront his dorm mates, again, when a new echoing sound made him pause. (Y/N) had thrown her head back in laughter. She stood, waving the pom poms above her head. 
“Go, Jamil, go!” She cheered. 
Jamil was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust at any second. 
*
The rest of practice had been a disaster. Every time Jamil got the ball the bleachers would erupt in noise, distracting him and everyone else trying to play. Jamil had never felt so off his game, fumbling the ball, bumping into his teammates, and losing focus at every moment that mattered, and most of the ones that didn’t, too. He purposely avoided turning in the direction of the cheering squad, partially because he wanted to discourage whatever activities the first-years were insistent on doing, and partially so he didn’t have to see (Y/N) cheer for him so enthusiastically. (And, maybe, so she wouldn’t be able to see how flustered he was becoming with every second.) 
A teammate had patted Jamil’s shoulder in sympathy as they headed to the showers after practice. “Don’t worry,” He said. “I bet she still likes you.” 
Jamil resisted the urge to punch him. 
Now, at least, he was back in a rhythm of something he knew how to do: cooking. Ever since his stint in the Culinary Crucible, the ghost chefs had tapped him and a few other stand out cases to help out in the kitchen every once and a while. 
The kitchen filled with the scent of roasting spices and sizzling meat, spilling out into the cafeteria sitting area. Students had started lining up way before the kitchen officially opened to secure their plate of Jamil’s cooking. Jamil felt the tension melt out of his shoulders, much like the butter in the pan he was currently using, as he fell into his familiar rhythms. 
“Thanks again for your help,” One of the ghost chefs said, floating by with a steaming bowl of freshly made turmeric rice. 
“Not a problem,” He replied. “It gets me out of my own head.” 
“Oh?” Another ghost asked. “Having troubles, youngster?” 
“Girl troubles, maybe?” Another snickered. 
All the ghosts jumped as Jamil brought down a butcher knife to decapitate a fish. They collectively decided it was maybe best to drop the topic, already deceased or not. 
“Ah, Jamil, chef, sir?” A student volunteer said, warily eyeing the butcher knife. “Someone was having an issue with their meal. They wanted to talk to you.” 
So much for his relaxation. Jamil quickly let the others know what to keep an eye on in the kitchen and headed out to the main sitting area. He scanned the tables. It looked like everyone was enjoying their food as far as he could tell. He looked back into the window of the kitchen. The volunteer student pointed at a table near the back by a window. He was about half way across the room when he realized that the student was a Scarabia student, a first-year in fact. And, now that he thought of it, he didn’t think he had seen that student in the kitchen before he had come to talk to Jamil. 
Jamil froze, seeing exactly who was sitting at the indicated table. This was a set up. He turned around to go back, only to be stonewalled by two now very familiar Scarabia students. 
“Hello, sir!” Omar chirped. 
“Taking your dinner break?” Babkak asked. “Great! We have the perfect table for you.” 
They both hooked their arms around Jamil’s and practically dragged him over to the table where (Y/N) and Grim sat. 
“Oh, hi,” She said, blinking at the surprise arrival. Jamil felt his throat tighten and couldn’t formulate a response. 
The musically talented first-years descended to the table, quickly picking up her plate of food to whisk a tablecloth over the table, setting down a candelabra which was quickly lit, and a vase with a dozen roses. 
“Roses,” Omar whispered to Babkak with a sly smile. Babkak rolled his eyes. The two shoved Jamil into a seat opposite (Y/N). A plate of food was set in front of him. The sneaky Scarabia student from the kitchen grabbed Grim, shoving a plate of tuna tartare in his paws before he could protest. Then, the group of wannabe restaurateurs vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The two left at the table, Jamil and (Y/N), looked at eachother with confusion. Jamil dropped his head to stare intently at his plate, stabbing at the sayadieh with his fork. 
“Hey,” Jamil was jerked out of his thoughts by (Y/N)’s voice. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, at practice. It looked like we were a pretty big distraction.” 
“You don’t need to apologize,” Jamil said. “It wasn’t your fault.” He glared at the first-years eagerly watching from a table a safe distance away. 
“Yeah, but still, I don’t need to make your life any harder.” 
Jamil looked up at her. She was twirling her spoon around the tabouli, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “You don’t make my life harder,” he insisted. “In fact, you’ve made a lot of things easier. My relationship with Kalim is a lot better now, for one thing.” 
She smiled at him, and his heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. “Well, glad I can help, then. But don’t sell yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot of work since everything that happened.” She waved her hand, regarding the invisible thing they both understood. It was still hard to talk directly about his Overblot, the manipulation, abuse of magic, and kidnapping aside. (Y/N) had told him she wanted to give him space for it, to consider how he felt and talk to others at his own pace, but still trying to address the root of the issues. That was when she had started organizing those sessions between her, Jamil, and Kalim, giving them a place to directly talk with each other without outside pressures and influences, helping them work things together as friends instead of the master/servant role Jamil so often felt himself confided to. 
“This is great, by the way,” (Y/N) interjected, scooping up a mouthful of tabouli. “I can always tell when it’s your cooking. Thanks for those leftovers the other day. I know Grim really likes them too.” 
“Oh, yeah, of course,” He said. He didn’t say, “I didn’t make it for Grim. I made it for you.” He blanched at the intrusive thought and snatched up his water glass, taking a large gulp and trying not to choke. 
“You sure you’re okay?” (Y/N) asked. “You’ve seemed kind of on edge all day.” 
“I’ll deal with it later,” Jamil said, looking over at the first-years who started enthusiastically nodding and giving him thumbs-up. 
(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the table.  “Listen, actually, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about-” 
“Lgeimat!” Jamil shouted. 
She blinked at him. “Sorry?” 
“The lgeimat! I left them in the fryer! Sorry, have to go, have a good night!” Jamil shot up and zipped back to the safety of the kitchen. 
“I didn’t know we were having lgeimat tonight,” Omar said from their spying perch. 
Babkak thudded his head on the table at their third defeat. “We’re not.” He grumbled. 
*
Jamil collapsed on the low couches in the Scarabia common room, arm flung across his face to cover his eyes from the late evening light. The day felt like it went on forever. Jamil had caught himself constantly looking over his shoulder, jerking at every unexpected sound, in anticipation of an over eager group of first-years. 
“Hi, Jamil-Oh,” Kalim stopped himself, looking over at his drained friend. “You okay?” 
Jamil sighed in response. “Long day.” 
“Oh.” Kalim sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?” 
Jamil peered out from under his arm at Kalim. At least that was one improvement, again, thanks to (Y/N) specific intervention. Kalim had slowly been teaching himself not to jump to conclusions or take it upon himself to fix everything by throwing money or extravagance at it, but by taking the time to hear other people, namely Jamil, out first. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t throw money or extravagance at the problem in the end, but progress was progress. 
Jamil gave Kalim a halfhearted glare. “It’s all thanks to that rumor you started.” 
Kalim blinked. “Rumor? Oh, you mean about how you’re in love with-”
“Yes!” Jamil cut him off, sitting bolt upright. “That! Some first-years heard you the other day and have been following me around, trying to start up some grand romantic gesture.” 
“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I think it’s sweet.” 
“Sweet?” 
“That everyone believes in you! Everyone knows how hard you work. We all want to see you happy and with the person you love.” 
Jamil stood. “Kalim, I’m not-” 
“Nope.” Kalim said shooting up. He put his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You’ve been different ever since winter break. You smile more when (Y/N)’s around. You’re not so tense all the time. And whenever we’re in a group, like at the cafeteria or dorm meetings or parties, you’re always looking for her. And when you see her your whole face just lights up! Do you know how often you talk about her? It’s a lot, Jamil! ‘Oh, I wonder what (Y/N) would think about this. Do you think (Y/N) has that in her world? Do you think (Y/N) likes spicy or sweet food? Do you think (Y/N)’s doing okay at Ramshackle? Do you think she needs help with any repairs like when we stayed there during VDC training? (Y/N) sure works real hard to catch up with a whole new culture. Do you think (Y/N) would want this extra curry?’”  
“I don’t sound like that,” Jamil protested weakly. 
Kalim sighed, hands on his hips. “I’ve known you my whole life. I know what you’re like when you’re mad, I know what you’re like when you’re sad, I know what you’re like when you’re happy, and now I know what you’re like when you’re in love.” 
Jamil pushed back. “I’m not in love with her!” 
“Yes, you are!” 
“I’m not-” Jamil cut himself off. He felt suddenly dizzy. He sat down hard. “Oh, I’m in love with her.” 
Kalim threw his hands in the air. “Yes! Thank you! Finally!” 
“But,” Jamil continued, and Kalim tried really hard to keep his frustration to himself. “I can’t tell her that. I can’t… put that kind of pressure on her. She has enough going on with Grim and Ramshackle and trying to find a way home and… Sevens, she’s going back home, Kalim! I don’t know when or how, but she won’t even be in this universe! And what, I’m just supposed to show up and dump this emotional baggage on her when she already has everything else to worry about?” 
Kalim sat down next to Jamil. He twirled his fingers together, trying to collect his thoughts. Why was it always so hard to know the right thing to say? “You said feelings were like a two way street yesterday, remember? So don’t you think (Y/N) should have a say too?” 
“Kalim, I can’t-”
“Yes you can!” Kalim shouted, jumping up and clapping his hands. “You’re Jamil Viper! If anyone can do it, can do anything, it’s you! And keeping everything bottled up isn’t fair to you or her or anyone. So-So-” Kalim frowned, trying to look stern, a very strange expression for the normally boisterous boy. “So go tell her how you feel right now, and let her decide what happens next! That’s an order as your house warden!” Kalim flinched. “Please.” 
Jamil stared at him for just a second too long, making Kalim squirm with worry that he had gone too far. Then, Jamil sighed, resigned, a half smile on his face. “Well, if my house warden is ordering it, how can I say no?” 
*
Despite what he had told Kalim, Jamil dreaded every step towards Ramshackle dorm. Even with the ‘order’ from his house warden, Jamil considered turning back. Instead, with each uncertain step, he plotted out exactly what he would say. Was it just as simple as ‘I have feelings for you?’ Should he have some grand gesture ready? Absolutely not. Those first-years had spoiled that concept for him. 
Before he realized it, Jamil was walking up the pathway to the dilapidated dorm. He stood at the front step, fist up ready to knock. It hovered there. A plan, he still needed a plan. He couldn’t just walk in without a plan of what to say, what to do. He’d had the entire walk over here, how had he not come up with a more solid idea? 
The door snapped open in front of him, Grim hurdling out, crashing into Jamil’s chest. “What-? Oh, hey!” Grim said, rubbing his head at the bump then cracking into a wide smile at the sight of Jamil. “Did you bring us dinner again?” 
“Uh, no, not this time,” Jamil said, already thrown off. 
Grim frowned. “Meh, whatever. I’m going to Sam’s anyway to get some tuna.” 
“Milk and eggs!” (Y/N)’s voice called from inside. “You’re getting milk and eggs! And oranges if they have any.” 
“That too!” Grim said. He winked then sped off down the path. 
(Y/N) appeared at the doorway, clearly having sprinted to catch the dire beast before he left. “Grim, I said we don’t have the budget to- Oh, he’s gone. Right, sure, why not?” She sighed. “Hi, Jamil.” 
Jamil swallowed hard. “Should I come back later?” 
(Y/N) waved the idea off. “No, it’s fine, you’re already here. Come on in.” 
Jamil followed her into the dorm to the sitting room just past the entrance hall. Despite the age and wear of the building, it was clear that (Y/N) had taken a lot of pride in fixing it up and keeping everything in order. 
“Sorry, I was in the middle of doing dishes,” (Y/N) said, whipping her wet and slightly soapy hands against her skirt. “Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get some tea and snacks.” 
“It’s fine,” Jamil said, quickly standing back up after having just sat down on one of the overstuffed couches. “I know where everything is, I’ll get it.” 
“No, no, you’re a guest. Take a break, I’ll get it.” 
“It’s fine really. I’m sure Crowly has been keeping you busy all day.” 
“And you’re just as busy. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
“No, really, I-” 
“Jamil!” Jamil jumped at her sudden outburst, his hands frozen in the air. She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Honestly. You take care of everyone else all the time. Let me take care of you for once.” 
Oh no. Oh no. 
“Now sit down while I go make some tea.” 
He sat down. This was worse than he thought. He really was in love. 
She wanted to take care of him. Of him. When was the last time someone offered to take care of him, to lighten his load, to take responsibility for the burden? For as long as Jamil could remember that had been his job, his life. Kalim, Najma, his parents, the Scarabia students, everyone and everything. It was like he didn’t realize just how tired he was until (Y/N) offered to help. Why did her snapping at him just now make him feel so relieved? 
Almost without thinking about it, Jamil’s feet took him into the kitchen. (Y/N) was standing at the stove, setting down a heavy teapot on the burner. She was mumbling to herself about something, Jamil couldn’t really hear what. His ears were ringing. 
(Y/N) noticed that Jamil had come into the kitchen, turning to face him. She frowned, eyebrows knit together. “Jamil, I told you that - Oh!” 
Ignoring his anxiety, ignoring that nagging thought that he didn’t have a plan, ignoring the churning nervousness in his stomach, Jamil pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug, burning his face in her hair. 
“I like you,” He said, so softly that he had to repeat himself to make sure she heard, to make sure she understood the depth of his feelings. “I like you. I think I might even- I feel better when I’m with you, like I can be better. I don’t feel like everything I’ve done up until now is just in service to someone else, because all of those things lead me to meeting you. I feel like I can think clearly, that I don’t always have to be on alert. I want to take care of you, I want to be with you, I want us to be together. And I know - I know I’ve done horrible things in the past, I know you’ve seen me at my lowest. But you still see me, me, not anything else. Not the servant, not the diplomatic aid, not the Overblot monster- How could I not fall in love with you? So, (Y/N), please. I just - please.” He wasn’t quite sure what he was asking ‘please’ for, he only hoped she would understand. 
(Y/N) trailed her fingers along his back, threading through his long hair. She pulled back, as much as Jamil’s embrace would allow. The corners of her eyes were dotted with tears. “Jeeze, Jamil,” (Y/N) said. “Way to steal my thunder. I wanted to say it first.” 
Jamil let out a cracked laugh, tears welling up in his own eyes. “You did?” 
(Y/N) hiccuped, laughing. “Yeah, of course. I thought I was being kind of obvious with it. I finally decided to suck it up and tell you at dinner earlier, but you just ran away so I thought you knew what I was going to say and didn’t feel the same.” 
“Sorry, I guess I was nervous. And those first-years all day…” 
(Y/N) laughed out loud. “I was wondering what was up with that. Was that Kalim or something?” 
“For once, no. They took it upon themselves to try and set us up.” 
“Aww, they care about you.” She hugged him close. “And I can see why.” 
*
That weekend, it was finally time for the Welcome Spring party, and there were, indeed, more flowers than usual. Kalim was flitting around, making sure everything was organized and where it needed to be. Jamil had asked if he could leave for the morning, coming back when it was time for the party to start. And, even though he had been the one to ask for the time off, Jamil had double checked that it was okay with Kalim no less than a dozen times before he actually left. Kalim insisted repeatedly that he would be fine, that he had a handle on everything. And, maybe, for the most part he did. It definitely helped that Jamil had assigned tasks to several other dorm members the night before to make sure Kalim didn’t get too overwhelmed. 
Just as the golden hour set in, magical floating lanterns bobbing along in the air amid swirling flower petals, the guests started to arrive. Kalim had sent out a recommended dress code ahead of time, requesting pastels, whites, and gold. Something to fit in with the refreshing and floral mood he wanted to create. Mostly, he was happy to report, everyone was able to follow the requirements. Heartslabyul students especially were rigidly adhering to the dress code under the watchful eye of their house warden. Most of them wore pinks, as it was the required color when taking care of the dorm flamingos so they already had something that would fit the theme. Savannaclaw didn’t much stick to theme, but had tried to comply with sticking puffy peony blossoms through belt loops or behind their ears. Octavinelle wore light blues and corals, studded with shimmering scales, pearls, and other bits of underwater flora. Scarabia, of course, as the hosts, were the most bejeweled, taking inspiration from the fairy gala that had inadvertently plunged the campus into chaos, but also resulted in beautiful flowing white and gold garments. Pomfiore stayed mostly in lavenders and lilacs, highlighted by golden embroidery in fantastic scenes and shapes. Ignihyde, for those who did show up, dug out whatever was the lightest color in their wardrobe, mostly staying in light blues. Similarly, no one was expecting much from the usually dour-toned Diasomnia. But, not wanting to create a social fopaux at one of the few events he had received an invitation to, thanks to (Y/N) reminding Kalim to expand his guest list at the last minute, Malleus had ensured that all his dorm members wore mint and emerald green with gold dotted throughout. 
There was a noticeable absence of two usually prominent figures, but Kalim assured everyone Jamil and (Y/N) would be arriving soon. And, although Jamil had tried to slip in quietly while everyone’s attention was focused on the dance floor for an aerial ribbon performance, Kalim’s squeal of delight quickly diverted everyone’s attention. Jamil held in a groan as attention whirled to him and (Y/N). They both wore outfits from the fairy gala, meticulously designed and created by Professor Crewel. She squeezed his hand in support, dragging him further in, head held high while ignoring the stares. A few Scarabia students gave congratulations, thumping Jamil’s back as he passed. Ace caught Jamil’s eye from the other side of the room. He pointed to Ortho, who was waving excitedly, and drew a finger across his throat. Jamil rolled his eyes. 
As the aerial dancers finished, (Y/N) drew Jamil to the dance floor. As a band kicked up (seriously, how many instruments did those Scarabia students know how to play?), (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Jamil’s neck as he placed his hands on her hips. He really hoped she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his palms had gotten. 
“You’re nervous,” (Y/N) said. “I’m not used to seeing you like that.” 
“I’ve just never really done this before,” Jamil said. “Not dancing, I’ve done that plenty. Just the whole relationship thing. I never really had a chance before. I don’t want to mess this up.” 
“I think you’ve been doing pretty good so far.” 
Jamil smirked. “It’s been two days.” 
“Well, see? You’re gaining experience already.” She leaned forward, placing her head on his chest. “I’m nervous, too, you know. Not about this. I’m really confident how I feel about you, and I want to stay with you for as long as I can. I mean about everything going on around us. There’s a lot of unknown. Technically, you know, I don’t even exist. Don’t have any papers like a birth certificate or passport or even a valid nationality. But I know I have great people helping me out, including you. And knowing they’re on my side, it helps make things a little better. And I’m on your side. So everything will work out, you know?” 
Jamil hummed. Lowley, in a quiet voice so he could dismiss it if she didn’t hear him, he asked, “Can I kiss you?” 
(Y/N) looked up at him, smiling, eyes twinkling. “I’d like that.”  
*
Off to the side, behind a bolt of silk cloth, Babkak handed Omar a 20 madol note.
847 notes · View notes
bumblebeerror · 2 years ago
Text
Minecraft hardcore tips that are not “git gud”
Aka these won’t save you from everything but it’ll prevent a lot of deaths. You do not have to be an excellent pve’er to survive in hardcore it just helps a lot
The first priority is food, followed by a bed. The more mobs you can prevent from spawning, the better. Your base is now the first place you manage to make a house in before night falls - plains are good for this but don’t go looking for one until day.
TAKE YOUR BED/A BED WITH YOU WHEN YOU LEAVE BASE FOR EXTENDED PERIODS OF TIME. Skipping night usually means nothing can spawn as long as you sleep immediately.
Next is torches. You can use logs to make charcoal, and charcoal can be used to make them. Torch spam your entire area, so that you can’t see any unlit areas from your base. This will prevent spawns nearby, which gives you an almost forcefeild against mobs - if you’re a couple chunks (16x16 blocks) from the nearest mob it won’t pathfind to you. And the fewer mobs spawn, the less chance of a hoard.
Don’t set up near rivers or oceans unless you’re good with a shield. Tridents can kill you in enchanted netherite in about 6 hits.
If you are not good with a shield, that’s fine. Prioritize armour. You can find diamonds when stripmining still - they’re at bedrock level. Keep your tunnels lit. If you want netherite it’s frankly safest if you have fire resistance, but you can get by with food and a set of blast and fire prot armour. Don’t make it from diamonds unless you’re farming villager trades.
A water bucket is extremely helpful, and so is just. Placing water under yourself. Effective shield against mobs touching you. Likewise, endermen will not teleport into water - if you need time to regen health, place water or jump into a pond or lake.
Redstone and making farms for items is EXTREMELY helpful. Tutorials are pretty easy to find for just about everything you could want to farm, too. Some are more labor intensive than others.
Feel free to reblog with the things you do too :] Minecraft doesn’t have to be a git gud game.
4K notes · View notes
thebibliosphere · 1 year ago
Note
What do you think of the Telltale Batman games?
I went into it a bit on this post a while back (spoilers for the ending in the final reblog chain). But in quick summary:
Lots of fun. Well worth buying when it goes on sale.
Really love how much humor Bruce is allowed. His undercover persona as a dirtbag billionaire turning into a crime lord is a lot of fun.
Bruce and Selina get on like a house on fire with all the expected casualties of a house fire in Gotham.
Harley Quinn mob boss: YES YES YES
The game really said, 'BatJokes otp <3333'
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ID: Two screenshots from the Batman: The Enemy Within Telltale game. Both screenshots depict a nighttime background in the city of Gotham. The top image shows the Joker, dressed in a green shirt dragging Batman, who is dressed in civilian clothes as Bruce Wayne, over a table by the collar of his leather jacket as he demands, “Why won’t you love me?!” while Bruce stares wide-eyed at him, lips parted in surprise.
The next image shows both men turning comically to regard a civilian at a nearby table who looks like he wants the floor to swallow him up just so he can get away from what looks like the weirdest public gay break-up going on outside the Gotham equivalent of a Starbucks at 4am.
---
I really enjoy the dialogue options you have as Bruce Wayne vs. Batman and the fact that you can play Bruce as airheaded or cunty as you like. He's either playing Bruce as a spoiled little rich boy or a well-meaning himbo with elevator music playing behind his eyes. There's no in-between.
Alfred is written out of character at the end, and it pulls the whole thing down.
I'd still play a third installment if they made one because I really want to enjoy Tell Tale style games; they just always seem to let me down a bit. But I want to believe...
693 notes · View notes
fairuzfan · 1 year ago
Text
June was working at the Goldie restaurant in Philadelphia on Sunday night when protesters started assembling outside the Israeli-American-owned eatery waving Palestinian flags.
"Goldie, Goldie, you can't hide, we charge you with genocide," they chanted.
The 24-year-old June, who asked to be identified by his first name only, told Middle East Eye that they watched the rally through the window of the restaurant which sells falafel, hummus and other Middle Eastern cuisine. June was shift-leading at the time.
"I remember thinking it was a big crowd, given it had been raining," June said.
"No one inside was bothered. I didn't feel unsafe. There were orthodox Jews taking part in the protest. We even had a customer come into the business," June, who is also Jewish, added.
After a few minutes, the protesters left.
When June went home after the shift, they found social media alight with accusations that the crowd had targeted the restaurant because it was a Jewish establishment.
But June says they knew that this wasn't a case of antisemitism.
"The protesters had assembled outside Goldie because the restaurant owner had sent money to an aid organisation that supported the Israeli military. They had come because two employees at Goldie were fired for expressing support for Palestine," June told MEE.
Outraged by the feverish pace with which the false narrative of a marauding mob intimidating a business on account of their Jewishness was being amplified on the internet and the news media, June posted on social media in support of the protesters.
"If you don't want to be directly funding genocide, stay away from Goldie, Kfar, Federal Donuts, Laser Wolf or Zahav. Goldie's parent company CookNSolo held a fundraiser where sales from all their restaurants went to an org [sic] that gives supplies to the IDF [Israeli military]," June wrote.
On the way to work the next morning, June received a call from the restaurant. They were told that they were no longer needed and they was fired with immediate effect.
That made June the third person at Goldie to be fired on account of their pro-Palestinian advocacy since 7 October when Israel's war on Palestine began.
Since late Sunday, the US media, prominent Jewish Americans, Philadelphia's mayor, several lawmakers, and even the White House have issued statements condemning the protests outside the restaurant.
"This is idiotic and dangerous. Protest outside the Israeli consulate or the offices of your member of Congress, not Jewish or Israeli-owned restaurants," prominent Jewish-American writer Peter Beinart wrote.
Likewise, Andrew Bates, a White House spokesperson, described the incident as "antisemitic and completely unjustifiable to target restaurants that serve Israeli food over disagreements with Israeli policy".
On Tuesday, US Vice President Kamala Harris' husband, Doug Emhoff, called Michael Solomonov, the owner of the restaurant group, to express support for his business.
But former employees at Goldie as well as pro-Palestine advocates who either organised or participated in the protest say the outrage was manufactured to distract from both the crimes of the Israeli state and those who have chosen to support it.
"While Goldie was not the goal of our protest, we briefly paused and led chants [outside the restaurant] because the owner, Michael Solomonov, has used proceeds from the restaurant to fund an organisation that works directly with the Israeli Occupational forces," Natalie Abulhawa, a spokesperson from the Philly Palestine Coalition, said.
Abulhalwa said that the group spent only a few minutes outside the restaurant and moved on to other stops before continuing the rally.
"We also stopped at Starbucks for the same reason and then continued to march. Our march was roughly three hours long and we stopped at Goldie's for four minutes, at most," Abulhalwa added.
June, who was at the business at the time, confirmed to MEE that the protesters were only around for a few minutes.
Sophie Hamilton, who worked at Goldie for more than two years, including as a store manager, confirmed to MEE that Solomonov had held a fundraiser in mid-October, where $100,000 was raised for United Hatzalah, an Israeli emergency aid organisation based in Jerusalem.
She said Goldie, part of the CooknSolo company, was not some small-time "mom-and-pop" business, but a sprawling company whose owner was appointed by the Israeli tourism ministry as its culinary ambassador for Israel in 2017. Solomonov is an Israeli chef who owns four restaurants in the Philadelphia area under the CookNSolo banner.
According to a statement released by the Israeli authorities at the time, the role was designed "to champion Israel’s extraordinarily diverse and vibrant culinary landscape".
Hamilton said the company had mischaracterised United Hatzalah to staff as "non-partisan, non-military aligned, like the Red Cross", when a cursory internet search showed that not only did the charity openly collaborate with the Israeli military, they also spoke like an arm of the Israeli state.
"The influx of terrorists infiltrating Israeli territory and the resulting high number of injured individuals also prompted United Hatzalah to provide additional medical supplies and protective equipment to IDF teams on the ground," a statement issued in late October by United Hatzalah, reads.
"Since the beginning of the war, United Hatzalah medical teams have treated over 3,000 soldiers and civilians and provided more than 900 soldiers, civilians, and volunteers with psychological first aid. The organization also delivered over 30 tons of medical supplies and humanitarian aid to the IDF and residents of southern Israel," the statement added.
Hamilton said when she had discovered the information, she refused to take part in the fundraiser because she didn't want to be complicit in the genocide of Palestinians.
However, when she returned to work after the fundraiser, she said she still wanted to show solidarity with Palestinians and decided to wear a pin bearing the Palestinian flag on her shirt.
A few days later, the company came out with a new policy that banned any pin or patch unrelated to the store on their uniforms.
"I wore the pin anyway in defiance of the policy and I was sent home that day," Hamilton says.
When she returned to work, she decided she needed the job and abided by the policy. But when one of her colleagues, Noah Wood, refused to take off his pin, and she wouldn't discipline him as his manager, she was fired. And so was he.
"I would never, as a manager censor someone I work with for showing their heartfelt belief in human rights," Hamilton said.
Wood, who had already resigned from his job on account of the suppression of Palestinian advocacy at the restaurant, was serving his notice period at the time when he was told to stay home.
He told MEE that it appears a customer complaint may have led to his dismissal.
"We've had LGBTQ flags up in the store. They might still be up. And one of the other locations had Black Lives Matter signage, so it wasn't as if it was an entirely politically neutral work environment," Wood said.
"You must remember Sophie and I didn't say anything. We didn't argue with customers. We weren't posting online. We were just wearing Palestine patches and pins and this seemed to make a customer uncomfortable, and this was enough for termination," he added.
Goldie and its parent company, CookNSolo, did not immediately reply to MEE's request for comment.
Activists say they remain appalled by the smear campaigns pitted against Palestinians on a daily basis. The rush to defend a business working with the Israeli army under the mask of an antisemitic attack was in line with the higher echelons of the American state to equate criticism of Israel with antisemitism, they say.
With the devastation in Gaza spiralling and the death toll ever increasing - now upwards of 16,000 Palestinians - organisers say the rapid resort to smear those who dare to raise the plight of Palestinians was the surest sign that officials had run out of excuses to justify the support of Israel.
Activists say the flurry of support for the Israeli-owned business also showed the close ties between the US political establishment and Israel-aligned businesses.
"The hypocrisy of our elected officials is despicable. Within a couple hours of our protest, Pennsylvania's Governor Josh Shapiro and others ran to Twitter to accuse us of antisemitism with absolutely no context and no facts," Abulhalwa, with the Philly Palestine Coalition, said.
"No one from their offices reached out to us to 'investigate'," Abulhalwa added.
Organisers said US politicians were constantly attempting to portray pro-Palestinian protesters as unhinged or violent when it was the US state that was supporting genocide in Gaza and it was Palestinians in the US who have either been killed or physically attacked.
In its report about the call made by Emhoff, the US vice president's husband, to Solomonov, the owner of Goldie, NBC News reported that the duo spoke about "how food was actually supposed to bring people together rather than be a source of division"
Likewise, Pennsylvania's Governor Shapiro, who was among the first to condemn the protests outside Goldie, baked bread with its owner, Solomonov, as recently as September.
"Being an Israeli ambassador is a big part of Solomonov's brand," Leila, a Jewish-American who took part in the protest outside Goldie on Sunday, said.
Leila, who offered only her first name to MEE, said the suggestion that any part of the action outside the restaurant may have been construed as antisemitic was simply absurd.
June, the former employee at Goldie, who had watched the protest from inside the store itself, said the charge of antisemitism was divorced from reality.
"They didn't come to the restaurant simply because it was Jewish-owned. If that was the case, they would've gone to hundreds of restaurants across the city," June said.
Likewise, Abuhalwa said the smears against Palestinians were once more exposing a double standard toward Palestinian life.
"Palestinian protesters being held at gunpoint by a racist, Islamophobe is a hate crime. Palestinians being shot for wearing keffiyehs is a hate crime. A grown man stabbing a little boy for being Muslim is a hate crime. Using your First Amendment rights and peacefully protesting is not a hate crime.
"They accused us of targeting Goldie because it's Jewish-owned, which is far from the truth. Solomonov is not being targeted due to his religious beliefs, but rather his ties to a violent apartheid state that is currently enacting a genocide," Abuhalwa added.
Meanwhile, June, the 24-year-old who lost his job at Goldie for supporting the protesters, says he has no regrets.
"If I could educate more people on how this company feels about Palestinians being killed, I'd gladly do it in a heartbeat," June said.
"I will always advocate and support anyone who advocates for a ceasefire and an end to the occupation of Palestine," they added.
876 notes · View notes
ladyredmoon13 · 2 years ago
Text
DCXDP prompt
During a rouge attack(your choice) a local graveyard in Gotham was damaged. Afterward, some local corrupted businessmen decided that clearing out the land and moving the graves was a great idea.
Not soon after the "clean up" began a gray-skinned teen with flaming blue hair showed up, and boy was she angry. She began yelling, screaming at the people the workers for digging up her grave.
When she was only met with patronizing responses she used her guitar to destroy some of their equipment. She was only the beginning though. Soon a equally gray looking biker guy and his green girlfriend showed up and started chasing people off.
Even some angry blue guy showed up one morning yelling about how ' they would pay for braking open his box.' (Braking his casket) wasn’t till they accidentally damaged a statue of one of Gothams most famous wardens that it really hit the fan.
The Bats call in Justice League Dark for help with this issue and no matter what they were thinking was going to happen. No matter what hoops they thought they would have to go through to resolve this. They did not expect Constantine to call a fourteen year old for back up.
- So in canon Ember died in a house fire. I could totally see that happening as a result of a rouge attack.(Like Firefly or the Joker, maybe)
Johnny and Kitty died in a motorcycle accident. So maybe they were trying to out run the police? Run from people they had gambling debts with?
The Box Ghost was a warehouse accident. Probably as an example the Mob wanted to make to the warehouse owner after not wanting to pay for protection. Or perhaps he was a whistle-blower?
Walker died in a prison riot, and seeing how Gotham is the place to find violent criminals. Would it be that much of a stretch to say it was Gotham penitentiary? I think not.
2K notes · View notes
giorno-plays-piano · 1 year ago
Text
Hold On To Me
Tumblr media
Pairing: mob!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: home intrusion, hostage situation, noncon, Stockholm Syndrome, smut.
Words: 3.9k
Summary: Swallowing a lump in your throat, you grow silent, anxiously watching the guy smile at you. He's that type every girl would be eyeing in the club, looking for an excuse to talk to him, to attract his attention, and then, very likely, to get him into bed. Steve seems popular, the I-will-eat-your-heart-like-cereals type, but you can say he isn't. Something in his eyes betrays his nature.
P.S. I rewatched The Hostage again (when I did it for the first time, this was the result), and here we are.
____________
Staring at a little black Ikea table as if your life depends on it, you sit, your body aching from being in one position for too long, but you can't move. He's watching you. It seems he doesn't even blink, his eyes on you since the moment he pushed you into your room and locked the door behind him. He's so close you can hear him breathing.
You know this look. You're not that young and innocent to be unable to recognize interest in man's eyes. It both scares and - unfortunately - makes you a little flushed, and you berate yourself for the latter because this isn't the right way to react to a man who broke into your house and took your family hostage. God knows what's happening to your stepfather right now: the man wouldn't be able to protect himself even if he was inside a tank, and his enemy attacked him with a plastic knife. You're as much worried about your little brother. He was always a bit of a brat, but the second you realized he was in danger, you felt so overprotective over him you covered his body with yours like you were a shield.
Your brother is in his room now, being watched by the youngest guy in the gang, the one who looked the most reluctant when their leader decided to take hostages. Your brother must be safe. The other kid won't hurt him, you don't think.
You, on the other hand, are stuck with Steve. From the moment you saw him move and heard him talk, you realized he was running the show behind the curtains. He's dangerous. The third guy, the one who claims to be the leader, is impulsive, angry, shouting and kicking things, sweating like a sinner in church because of the police cars surrounding the house, but Steve is calm and collected. He smiles with his perfectly white teeth and talks to the boys as if he's relaxing in a bar after work, not in the middle of armed robbery.
He's really, really pretty. Steve has perfectly blond hair and proper facial features like a slightly chiseled jaw, full lips, and that sort of blue eyes that make girls swoon over him the moment they see him. He's perfectly tall, well-built, with wide shoulders and strong, muscular arms and legs: he look like he belongs in those Armani commercials or, perhaps, on the catwalk, but not with the kind of guys your mother warned you about. How did he end up on the darkside? What made him so good at using a gun? He didn't fire it even once yet, but you see it from the way he handles it he knows too well what to do with it. It makes you anxious, thinking that he might point his gun at you and then pull the trigger.
Except he won't. Or, it's rather unlikely. Not when he looks at you like this, always moving so close to you he steals a touch whenever he can as if he is unable to help himself. Besides, Steve is kind to you: he gave you water when you asked and loosened the rope tied too tightly around your wrists; he brought you a pillow so you could rest against it, not the cold wall, and shushed you gently when you cried, saying he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your little brother. You don't know how much of his promises are true, but you think him unlikely to harm a child. He doesn't seem the type.
Your poor little boy. He's only a kid, all alone in his room, forced to face one of his kidnappers as he waits for the police to finally make a move. Since you don't hear him crying - your room is just below his - you think he does his absolute best to hold on, to keep calm and not irritate his unwilling jailer even though he's frightened to death. He doesn't deserve to be caught up in this mess. If only they agreed to let him go... Not that anyone would listen to your pleas, though. He's a valuable hostage, just like you. As long as the gang has you, police won't make a move, you're pretty sure.
But maybe you can still help your brother. Ease his worry a little, give him a bit of hope. That is, if you play your cards right and press the right buttons of your handsome, terrifying warden.
"May I bring some food to my brother, please?" You whisper, gathering all your courage to turn your head to face Steve, look him straight in the eyes. "He must be so hungry."
Swallowing a lump in your throat, you grow silent, anxiously watching the guy smile at you. He's that type every girl would be eyeing in the club, looking for an excuse to talk to him, to attract his attention, and then, very likely, to get him into bed. Steve seems popular, the I-will-eat-your-heart-like-cereals type, but you can say he isn't. Something in his eyes betrays his nature.
He's not a guy winning girls over with his looks. Steve is a deviant, an outcast. His face can't buy him what he wants, and that's why he's here, in your house, holding your family hostage.
Maybe, just maybe, you can use it to your advantage.
"Can you do me a favor, please?" Your whisper is barely audible. "Can you take me to my brother so I could feed him? If you want, you can tie my legs so I won't run."
Not that you would, anyway. You know perfectly well you can't outrun this guy even if your life depends on it, literally. Overpowering him is even more unlikely unless his muscles are just cotton stuffed in his clothes, which is a ridiculous suggestion.
His eyes light up at the word favor. "Happy to oblige," he muses, and your heart starts beating wildly before he continues, "but how will you return my favor?"
You are puzzled. You haven't thought this far. Dumbly, you thought he'd just say yes. It's a small favor, really. He knew you wouldn't give him any trouble, so it was just quickly checking up on your scared to death brother. Why would he want something from you in return when you couldn't as much as move without his permission?
But of course, he would.
"Anything," you blurt out hurriedly as if the words burn your tongue before you realize what you are actually saying.
Steve laughs with delight, his features softening.
"You should work on your negotiation skills," he declares with a wide smile as you tremble, understanding what you just offered. "You shouldn't give up your everything because people will take anything there is to take. Choose just one thing at a time, and choose carefully."
Suddenly, he gets close, and you immediately avert your eyes to the floor, unable to keep his gaze, trembling.
He nuzzles your cheek affectionately as his knife works through the rope around your wrists, and you pray he isn't going to stab you because you really know nothing and all judgements you made of him might be false. "But I'll be nice and choose just one thing for you. You'll feed your brother, and then I'll feed you, alright?"
You blink, your eyes on your warden again. Feed you? He wants to give you food?
Okay, it sounds strange. But who cares when you can finally see your brother? You'd say yes even if he proposed something improper because what else can you do? Steve has a gun, and even without it, you feel like he's a very dangerous person to oppose to.
So you say yes, and he takes your hand in his - so you won't be nervous, he says, but you know he wants to remind you who's in control - and then you two march to the kitchen in awkward silence where you grab whatever you can find. A cheeseburger from that little family café your family goes to every weekend, a pack of yogurt, a toast, a bottle of water... Steve even helps you to carry it all.
When he opens the door to your brother's room, you forget how to breathe for a second. The little boy is safe, sitting on his bed with his hands already untied, his eyes red from all the crying, and you rush to him, forgetting there's another man in the room. Or, well, a boy, because he's surely younger than you, perhaps still at school. His eyes are suspiciously red, too, as if he's scared and doesn't want anything but leave this place for good. For a moment you think it'd be better if he was guarding you, too, because then, perhaps, he'd agree to let you go if you helped him run away from the house without police catching him, and then things would be so much easier.
But the boy leaves in a hurry when Steve enters, and you remember who's a true ringleader. You can never escape on your own.
Your brother cries when you hug him, his little hands wrapped around you as he sniffle, and you rock back and forth to calm him down, whispering words of comfort, like everything's going to be alright even if you don't know where your stepdad is and what Steve is going to do to you if police doesn't do what he demands them to. You tell your brother he needs to eat because it's dinner time, and he nods, suddenly a well-behaved boy he'd never been, and takes a cheeseburger. You don't leave until he eats everything even if it's probably too much for a kid his size, but he says nothing, and you want him to be completely full: who knows when he'll eat again.
Then you give him a hug. It'll be fine, you say, and he does his best not to cry. Just do what they say, be a good boy, and everything's gonna be alright.
Steve smiles at the child when your brother doesn't want to let you go. "Listen to your sister," he says in a tone as if he's playing the role of a big brother, "and things will be fine. She'll be safe, too."
You don't think you'll be safe, not with someone like Steve, but perhaps your brother will be because his jailer is a kind kid, and he isn't cut out for violence. It's enough for you, even if your hair stands on end when Steve gently nudges you into your room, locking the door behind himself again. Once you two are completely alone, you start to panic, your breathing growing uneven, your hands shaking. What will he do to you? Will he rape you? Torture you? Kill you? If you could think rationally, you'd realize at least the last two are unlikely to happen, but you're a hostage, and he has the power to do any of these things. Even if you're unbound, you're helpless against him, a man so big and strong he'd overpower you in a matter of seconds.
So you don't try anything. You go sit down on the floor near your bed with a pillow resting between your back and the wall and then stretch out your arms for Steve to bind them again. He doesn't.
"You've been a good girl so far," he muses, sitting down in front of you, and then you see a couple of fruits in his hands that you somehow missed completely. "Now, let me feed you."
You still when he takes out his knife and peels a big red apple in a single strip before cutting it into even pieces. When he brings one close to you, you try to take it from his hands, but he tuts, tilting his head. "Open your mouth," he says simply instead, and your face grows hot.
Of course, there was a catch. There always is with guys like him.
But you say nothing and do as he says, and then he carefully pushes a piece of apple into your mouth. It's delicious, juicy, just your favorite sort of apples. You try to concentrate on the taste, not Steve's delighted expression when he watches you eat. Soon, he pushes one more piece past your lips, and then one more, and one more until there's nothing left of the apple. He's nowhere near finished, of course, because then starts to peel an orange. It's messier than the apple, but Steve doesn't seem to mind when he brings a slice close to your lips and lets you swallow it. His smile grows wider the closer you are to finishing the orange.
When you're finally done, your mouth full of acidic flavor, he suddenly clicks his tongue.
"My hand is all dirty from orange's juice," he says, eyeing you when you finally register what it is he asks you to do.
You bite down on your lips, eyes round as he brings his hand to your mouth.
"Lick it," he whispers so close to your face you can feel his breath on your skin.
You want to say no, to tell him he's out of his mind, but you don't. He's been kind to you so far, and it'd be stupid to provoke him. Even if he won't stop at this... maybe he'll stay kind, anyway. It's better than having him put a gun against your forehead for refusing to do what he says.
You open your mouth, taking his fingers in one at a time. They taste almost the same as the orange, sticky with juice, and you do your best to lick them clean, making shameless little noises when you suck at them. Steve doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, he looks at you with a delightful expression on his face, like he's happy you're so good at whatever he asks you to do. He slips finger after finger inside your warm, wet mouth, playing with your tongue, smearing juice and saliva against it as he laughs with joy.
When you're done, he kisses you, sharing the sour taste of the fruit.
You knew it would come to this. It's no surprise, really, with the way he looks at you. But you still tremble and wish for all of it to end when Steve licks your tongue, sucking it into his mouth.
"Open your legs, baby," he commands in a sweet voice, and you shudder but do as he says anyway, and his lips part in a smile. "Yeah, like that."
His hand is already between your thighs, cupping your pussy through the clothes, and you freeze, blood pounding in your ears. It feels surreal, being in this situation, in the hands of someone who might make you cum or shoot you in the head instead. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, but your body is petrified, limbs turning to stone, your tongue heavy when you whisper. "Please, don't hurt me."
It's a plea, a cry, and tears slip down your cheeks as you look him in the face, his eyes dark and perceptive. Then, all of a sudden, he softens. "You're safe with me," he promises, his breath warming your face as his hand lands on your head, stroking you gently like a little girl, and you feel like you're going to cry from the intimacy of his touch. "You'll always be safe with me."
His other hand is already in your jeans, caressing you through the silk fabric of your panties, but as he pats your head, taking your hair away from your face, you lean into him, seeking any comfort he's willing to give. Steve purrs, landing a kiss to your brow, his fingers slowly spreading your gentle folds as you shudder. "Good girl."
You let out a shaky sigh as he circles your clit: surprisingly, he doesn't start pumping his fingers in and out like most guys do, too eager to have their dick inside. No, Steve just draws more sighs from you, makes you meek and pliant and wet as his fingers work your clit just the right way, and you squirm into the fabric of his t-shirt as he caresses the back of your head, pressing you into his chest.
It almost doesn't feel like he's forcing himself on you. It feels like... like he comforts you. As if he wants you to feel good, to be fine with him doing it to you.
"I'm... I'm-"
Your knees tremble as you sense the orgasm coming too soon, snuggling against your captor as his hand closes against your shoulders, his fingers working your clit even faster, circling, pinching, pressing on it like a button, making you squeeze your eyes shut. The coil tightens in your belly and, then, then... you become undone. Disintegrate in Steve's hands when he praises you tenderly for being good to him, kisses your cheeks wet from tears, and craddle you to his chest like a baby. He's painfully hard, you can feel it through his jeans when you lean onto him, but Steve doesn't seem in a hurry for his own release. He waits till your orgasm makes you all too soft and takes your face in his hand, giving you a deep kiss, his tongue coiling around yours.
You barely recognize when he lifts you up, feeling too comfortable and warm, pressed to him like that, but then you feel cool bedsheets behind your back, and then you're scared again.
Steve coes tenderly, giving you a peck on the lips, "Do you want to ride me, baby? Or do you want me to take you on your back, like a princess?"
The way he phrases it makes warmth creep into your cheeks, and you avert your eyes, mumbling, "On my back, please."
It doesn't even register that he forces himself on you right this minute. It feels like... something else. Something not so scary, not so violent. Something... tender.
"Like a princess, then," your captor smiles, hands trailing your jeans as he carefully slides them down, taking them away, living you half naked. "Alright. You'll be my princess."
Your face feels disturbingly hot when he says it, his hands on you as he tugs the fabric of your blouse up, lowering his head to drop a few kisses to your tummy, murmuring something you don't quite catch, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, you are completely naked in front of him, and you'd feel ashamed if he wouldn't caress your head again like you're a little girl, eager for his praise.
He gives you a kiss before inching away, taking his t-shirt off ever so slowly to give you a good look at his undoubtedly perfect body. But you don't look at his muscled arms or wide chest. Your eyes are trailing his scars, so many scars of different shapes and sizes that cover his skin. Many of them are long, undoubtedly deep, as if someone... as if someone stabbed Steve with a knife.
Your eyes water. Even if it's you who's a victim, a hostage, you feel a sharp sense of guilt as if it were you who hurt him.
He blinkes, a little surprised, perhaps, but you can see there's someone else in his eyes. Something like shame. Like self-loathing.
"A princess' knight is supposed to have a few scars here and there, right?" He gives a quiet laugh, getting down again to cage you with his body, but he freezes when your warm hand lands on a long, ugly line on his side, between the ribs. It is long healed, but the touch makes him stop, nonetheless.
You look him into the eyes, and your face is tight with worry. "I'm sorry," you whisper like it's your fault, your palm warming his skin, and Steve becomes alive again under your touch, his lips partying in a smile once more.
His hand caresses your nipple, pinching it between two fingers as he draws a breath from you, watching you intently, his hard, leaking cock heavy on your tummy. Then, suddenly remembering something, he bends over to grab something from his jeans, and you realize he's putting on a condom. You sigh in relief, and he catches that.
"Anything for a princess," he grins, sliding his hand over your thigh, and you still beneath him when he positions himself at your entrance.
You're scared. That moment you're back into your room, with a man who can shoot you hovering above you like a monster eager to eat you alive, and you forget how to breathe. You're not a princess in the care of your faithful knight. You're a hostage, and your captor can do anything he wants with you.
Steve feels the change in you in a moment, and he stops, his hand back to the top of your head. Even though you can feel how painfully hard he is, he waits, caressing you like a little girl, smiling to you, tenderly brushing your hair away from your face, repeating you'll always be safe with him. And then you're a princess again, and he's your knight.
He pushes into you, and you bit down on your lip, trying to relax: he's not monstrous, but Steve is still a bit too big for you to take him comfortably. Thankfully, he doesn't split you on his cock, giving you time to adjust, and with every moment the subtle pain grows weaker before it finally lets go, and you nudge your warden gently, your hands gripping his shoulder and your face in the crook of his neck. It doesn't hurt anymore. It almost feels good to be so full of him, to know what it's like to have him inside of you.
Steve says it's hard not to cum when you clamp down on him so much, gripping him like a vice. Pleasure softens his features, and you brush a strand of blond hair away from his face before you even register what you do. He does, though, and he likes it. He finally starts to move.
Sweat drips down your bodies when Steve keeps slamming inside of you, making all sorts of soft noises while you pant and choke beneath him, snuggling against his form, your legs wrapped around him tightly. His cock is pressing against every right spot of yours, making you forget who he is and what he does to you. You're his princess, his good girl, he repeats over and over again, and you feel safe in his embrace, inhaling his scent, taking his cock till its head presses into your cervix, leaving a pleasant ache and making you whine. It feels good to be in his care when he rolls to the side and presses your head to his chest, his other hand lifting your leg to reach a different angle, and you kiss his jaw, his neck, making it even harder to hold on, he says.
When he cums, you're already far too gone. The pleasure is too intense, and for a couple of minutes you say nothing to each other, panting, his hands still on the back of your head as he caresses you absent-mindedly, your bed a mess of damp and crinkled sheets. You wish to stop thinking. To forget everything. Just being here, being safe, is enough for now.
Until he speaks again.
"You'll come with me," he whispers feverishly, his hot palm on your cheek, almost burning you. "I'll take you away, and we'll go on a big adventure together, princess. With dragons, swords, and gold."
You're quiet against him, staring into his chest as he caresses your head.
You're not a princess. You're a prey.
___________
Tags: ​@finleyjayne @helenaeisenhower @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @rosalynshields @lookiamtrying @soleil-dor @cosicas-cuquis @buckybarnesplumwhore @lux-ravenwolf @stupendouslovegardener @what-is-your-wish @eralen @magnificantmermaid @typewritersworld @stcrrjoon @sweetxime @imrandomstuffsblog @gachawipes133
2K notes · View notes
futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago
Text
lil Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader drabble
Warnings: NSFW, depics of violence, blood, some steamy stuff but not too much, sooo much dirtytalk.
You were many things. But you weren't naive.
That wouldn't be an issue if Miguel couldn't talk his way out of hell and right into those pearly gates. His manipulation and sweet talking were just another thing that made you hate him and attracted to him amongst many other things
He was an asshole. He was a powerful Mob Boss. He was your husband and your arch-nemesis. You both loved playing these little games that would send the other down a spiral of paranoia and obsession- it lit a fire under both of your asses. It made you meaner, sharper, stronger
Miguel told his men to take shots at you, haphazardly, making sure they all missed for the sole purpose of scaring you to make you behave and see how valuable his protection was . You weren’t scared, you were pissed and filled with rage. You blew up one of his lackey’s cars, he watched it burn in front of him, if he had gotten into the wrong black beauty of a Lamborghini, he’d be a pile of ashes.
You both poked and prodded, messed and obsessed with every step you made. It was like a Greek tragedy. You outsmarted him some days. He outsmarted you some days.
But after all of it, you were still married, still husband and wife. When he fell for you, he fell hard. You were the daughter of of one of the most renowned gangster in the country, Miguel had to pay his dues to earn his respect- and in the end it payed off. Your father blessed your marriage and that night was a dream above all dreams. The honeymoon was beautiful too, every night was filled with passionate and messy sex and every day he spent with you he fell more and more in love.
But Lord did you test his patience, it was something that you were born to do. He was angry and channelled his rage through many illegal mediums.
Yet you always let him back in.
-
You’ve been doing what you’ve been doing for the past few weeks.
Waiting up for Miguel.
Waiting for him to come home.
He said he had something to take care of and hasn’t shown his face since. And here you were, waiting for him like a Park Avenue trophy wife. Your wine was making you more anxious than tipsy as you glared at the clock, the fireplace in front of you not warming your body from this strange fear of a man you hate and love. It was nearing 1am.
Then you heard it, the door opening and closing and the rustling of expensive shoes hitting the marble of the foyer, then a jarring clank of keys hitting the holder.
Your breath got lost in your throat, eyes widening when you saw Miguel’s figure. His white shirt was bloodied and his fists were bruised and raw. It’s not his blood, but he did have a cut on his eyebrow. You scoffed as you stood up from your seat.
But that didn’t stop you from both charging at each other, wanting to see each other up close.
“I hate you.” You said with a scowl but what was it all for when you both embraced each other seconds after.
“I believe you.” He said coldly but he knew you meant it. Your head rested on his shoulder and he could smell the shampoo you used earlier tonight. A sweet orchard, green apple. Yet your sweet scent didn’t transfer to yout personality. You didn’t like to sit still and play house.
You were an antagonizing bitch.
He was a heartless bastard.
Yet here you were.
Hating each other, yet seeking each other’s company.
“I hate you.” You repeated much firmly this time and Miguel gripped onto your cheeks and pulled your face up so he could glare at you.
“I said I believe you…I haven’t believed anyone in a long time.” He muttered, but his tone was harsh. Unamused eyes searched yours for an answer but instead he found contempt and sadness.
“You left for weeks….I hated you every second of it.” You spat out but your words couldn’t be brutal when you were this sad.
Miguel’s grip on your face softened, the pads of his fingertips tracing on the outline of your chin. “Now that I’m back…do you still hate me?” He was asking with genuine concern for some reason.
“Yes.” You whispered but your legs started to tremble as the word rolled off of your tongue. Miguel frowned indignantly and huffed out, taking his turn to pivot the conversation to him just ordering you around again.
“I don’t want you leaving the penthouse. I don’t want you outside while I deal with these bastards-“
Your choked breath cut him off. “Is that all you’re thinking about right now? I can’t fucking believe you.” You scoffed, his gall was truly outstanding, of course he had to do this right now. You weren’t purposefully trying to fan the flames to Miguel’s anger but he wanted to treat it like you were, he was already annoyed for ruining one of his best shirts with the blood of subspecies and now he has to deal with you bitching and moaning…and not in the way he liked. “You know what Miguel-“ He directly stopped your words by gripping onto your waist and neck and sitting you on the dining table. You struggled against his hold but it all proved to be fruitless.
“You’re gawking at me like an idiot right now.” You insulted but he was way too far gone now, the crimson of his eyes migrated to a deep ring of burgundy- he was already pissed and you just had to play with him the wrong way.
“You’re beautiful that’s why.” He said endearingly, like he was cooing at you but his serious expression really contrasted that.
“You’re flattering me because you wanna fuck?”
“You asked me if you staying here is all I’m thinking about right now and in fact, it’s not.” Miguel placed a palm on your chest and pushed you flat onto the table, hard. Your eyes were half lidded weapons, scrutinising his every move- and dare he think, he loves it, because he always proves you wrong.
You were his wife, his bitch, his cumdump. You both may hate each other but you always needed each other in this way.
No one else could make you cum otherwise, no one else memorised your body like he did. How couldn’t he? He loved you…once.
You like to think these outbursts are impactful and grand displays of independence but no, you’re Miguel’s lover and you’re gonna act like it.
Hmm. You always looked so pretty in this silk robe, but the fact that your nipples were peaking already under the thin fabric told him all he needed to know.
“I was thinking of you today when I was killing my competition’s men, while I got blood on my hands.” Miguel’s calloused palms splayed onto your smooth legs, feeling up and down teasingly, riding up your robe. You arched against the table already.
Shit, you didn’t mean to.
“The others said that my mind was wandering. I could see their mouths open and close but I couldn’t hear a single word come out..” He said huskily, you gasped when he ripped open your robe, revealing your naked and beautiful figure under him. The only thing that could ever get him off. He dipped his head between your legs to were your thin barely there panties were, he ran his nose over the fabric and inhaled softly. “I could smell you.”
You blinked up at him in confusion, you didn’t know what to feel. You were mad but so aroused…and in the weeks he’s been gone you hadn’t been able to pleasure yourself at all. He looked vicious and mean, your husband was ruthless and sometimes….sometimes it was so fucking arousing, you couldn’t help but squirm and struggle underneath him.
“You wanna know what I did? You wanna know who the man you married is really like when he’s not at home?” His head raised up to your ear to mumble hotly, you jolted and struggled when his hand suddenly went to your already sticky folds.
You weren’t sure if you even had a choice, so you stayed silent, your expression akin to that of vacant displeasure….but oh, were you lying. Your face was about to break.
“I shot them in the kneecaps and beat them until they were barely breathing, but would you believe the way they died was by suffocation?” He chuckled lowly, his fingers teasing your already sloppy entrance.
“F-fuck…are you talking about?” You tried to fight back the moans collecting in the back of your throat but you couldn’t help it.
“They drowned in a puddle of their own blood and I put them there.” Miguel rasped firmly in your ear, his tone and body language becoming very intimidating and…scary. “The bastard’s blood got on my fucking shoes.”
Your husband only wanted to protect what was his. His fingers plunged inside of you, feeling up and down, circling around. You whined out.
“One of them I knew, he went to my fucking highschool hermosa. I called him my friend. But the worst thing occured to me, I imagined him on top of you, my wife, the woman that loathes me so. I saw him tasting you in my head and that’s what made me kill him. You. Just because you sit up here in this untouchable palace doesn’t mesn you’re any cleaner than I am. You’re just as depraved as I am.”
His eyes were beating with a scorching red, his lips were curled into a visicious snarl and at this moment, you knew he was right and that made you want him that much more.
You were his lover.
He wanted you to act like it.
Even if that meant being exactly like he was.
Heartless.
-
(I deleted my other mafia Miguel fic because I wasn’t sure if i was gonna make it a bigger fic or not and I felt like if i kept it up it would’ve been confusing or something? I’m playing on the same ideas in this fic dw)
920 notes · View notes
cyberclouddream · 4 months ago
Text
What Recharges or Motivates Us
Tumblr media
What to do if you feel unmotivated or drained. Based primarily on Sun placements, but can also apply to Venus, Mars, or Jupiter if strong, along with Chart Ruler. Also look for the houses where you have Aries [ inspiration ], Taurus [ comfort ], Scorpio [ rebirth ], and Sagittarius [ adventure ].
Through the Signs
Aries
- engage in a competitive activity, like sports or games that gets your blood pumping
- tackle a quick, challenging task, like a workout, difficult puzzle, hiking, cycling, or running
- spend more time in the sun and other natural light, like candles or bonfires
- leading others, like leading a group project or initiative
- take a spontaneous trip or adventure, exploring nearby towns or new places
- do a hands-on activity, like a DIY or home improvement project
- take a class or workshop you always wanted to try, like pottery, cooking, or dancing
- engaging in activities that remind you of your childhood
More Ideas: try extreme sports like rock climbing or bungee jumping; pack a bag and take a road trip with a specific destination; set up a friendly competition like a race or game; create a playlist that represents your personal anthem; join a public speaking/Toastmakers club or open-mic events; try a martial arts class, parkour, or fire dancing
Taurus
- spend time outdoors in nature, through hiking, gardening, or simply relaxing
- indulge in sensory experiences, through cooking your favorite meal, taking a bath, or lighting aromatic candles
- treat yourself to a self-care day, like a massage, facial, or luxurious bath to reconnect with the body
- rearranging or redecorating your safe space, like adding plants or artwork
- listen to music, like uplifting or calming tunes that boost your mood or energy
- engage in creative hobbies, like painting, pottery, or crafting
- cooking or baking, since the process of preparing food can be therapeutic or satisfying to them
- gentle forms of physical movement, like yoga, dancing, or tai chi
- mindfulness practices, like meditation or deep breathing
- spending quality time with loved ones, like close friends, family, or animal companions
More Ideas: visit a local farmer’s market, experiment with cooking a new cuisine; take a worship in pottery or candle-making; host a wine and cheese testing; visit local artisan shops or craft markets; explore local flora or take up a nature identification project; host a themed dinner party; use more vibrant colors, fragrant herbs, or unique textures when cooking
Gemini
- organize a gathering with friends or participate in a social event
- explore new ideas, through trying a new book, podcast, or documentary
- plan a short trip or spontaneous outing to a new location
- participate in group activities, like joining a club, workshop, or class, like a writing group, art class, or dance lesson
- trying different hobbies, like crafting or playing a musical instrument
- take a short social media break, to calm mental chatter and focus on more fulfilling tasks
- host a themed movie or game night, like inviting friends over for a movie marathon or game night to combine entertainment with socializing
- try guided meditations
More Ideas: take a quick-paced online course on a random subject that interests them; join an improv class; go on a themed trip, like visiting a historical landmark or art installations; write a short story or poem based on a random word generator; host an online discussion group on an eclectic topic; try VR experiences that offer adventure or learning opportunities; host a trivia night; create a collaborative story where others contribute paragraphs; participate in a flash mob; join a local debate club
Cancer
- spend time at home or in a cozy and comforting environment, and even declutter or redecorate
- engage in nurturing activities, like cooking a favorite meal or baking something comforting
- spend quality time with family or close friends
- practice self-care routines, like taking a long bath, practicing skincare, or enjoying a good book
- artistic outlets, like painting, crafting, or writing
- nature walks, especially near water, like lakes, rivers, or the ocean
- journal, to write down thoughts or feelings to help bring clarity to process emotions
- volunteer or help others, since acts of kindness are fulfilling
More Ideas: curate a playlist that represents current feelings and listen to it while journaling; setup a home sanctuary with blankets, pillows, or favorite items; try art therapy as a form of emotional expression; create a scrapbook or photo album full of cherished memories; cook a dish from childhood; host a memory sharing night with friends or family; create a comfort box with things like favorite books, scented candles, photos, or treats; plant a healing garden
Leo
- expressing through art, like painting, dancing, or acting
- host a social gathering, like organizing a party or get-together with friends, since they like being the center of attention and sharing their energy
- engage in a physical activity, like a fun workout, dance class, or group fitness session
- pamper yourself, like having a spa day, try a new hairstyle, or going shopping to make your feel great
- leading a project at work or a group setting
- surrounding themselves with positivity, like curating a playlist or watching uplifting movies
- trying a new hobby that challenges them, like photography, writing, or playing an instrument
- connecting with nature, like a botanical garden or beach
- practicing gratitude, like writing down things they appreciate
More Ideas: dress up as a favorite character or icon for the day; write a personal manifesto of their goals, dreams, and values; host a talent show with friends and family; volunteer to mentor others and share skills; have a solo dance party at home or wherever they feel free, like nature; enroll in local acting or improv class; create a personal website; plan a photoshoot; attend a live performance; establish a celebration ritual for achievements big or small
Virgo
- spend time tidying up, like cleaning and organizing their environment
- going for a nature walk or hike, to ground and reconnect with surroundings
- create a to-do list, like writing down tasks and goals to have a clear plan
- try a craft or DIY project, like gardening, artisan crafts, or home improvement
- cook a healthy and nourishing me that focuses on healthy ingredients
- taking a break from screens and social media to reduce mental chatter and focus on priorities and passions
- read for pleasure, like a book or audiobook, listening to a story that can provide an escape and stimulate the mind
- volunteer or help others, like community service or lending a hand to someone in need
- practice self-care, like a bath, yoga, or quiet evening with a favorite movie to recharge emotional and physical energy
More Ideas: create a personal wellness day with yoga, healthy cooking, and meditation; go outside and journal about the sights, sounds, and feelings they experience in nature; organize a workshop where everyone teaches each other something they’re good at; craft a detailed vision board outlining goals and aspirations; organize or join a nature clean-up event; join a book club; attend a cooking class
Libra
- cultivate aesthetic spaces, like redecorate or rearrange a living space to create a more visually pleasing environment
- spend time with friends or loved ones
- visit art galleries or museums to immerse in art or culture
- practice self-care like a spa treatment or skincare ritual
- try yoga or pilates
- listen to uplifting music, like creating a playlist of favorite songs or explore new genres
- try hands-on creative activities, like painting, crafting, or fashion design
- ensuring they have a balance of social time and solitude to recharge effectively
- seek out beauty and inspiration, like botanical gardens, floral shops, or scenic views
More Ideas: curate a playlist that evokes peace and balance while engaging in calming activities; host a themed potluck dinner where everyone brings dishes from different cultures; explore Feng Shui and rearrange living space based on the principles; color mandala designs or use adult coloring books; participate in a dance class like salsa or ballroom; join or create a group where people discuss philosophical ideas, art, and ethics; spend a week experimenting with different fashion styles
Scorpio
- engage in intense workouts, like martial arts, kickboxing, or dance
- try self-reflection through journaling or meditation
- connect with nature, especially near water
- transforming their space to reflect their current emotional state or desires
- engage in creative outlets like painting, writing poetry, or playing music
- incorporate mindfulness practices, like deep breathing or yoga to center themselves
- delve into mystical practices, line astrology, tarot, numerology, divination, or the craft
- plan a personal retreat, like a weekend getaway or a day of solitude at home
- volunteer for causes they care about, like community service or activism that aligns with values
More Ideas: try shadow work journaling about fears, desires, and emotions to explore depths of psyche; stimulate senses through aromatherapy, candle-making, or visiting a sensory deprivation tank; create a mystery box full of random things and challenge themselves to craft a story or project around items; take a weekend away to a secluded location for introspection and reconnecting with themselves; explore darker-themed artists or galleries; create a personal tarot deck; try intuitive cooking, as in without strict recipes
Sagittarius
- plan a spontaneous trip, like a weekend getaway or a trip to a nearby city or nature spot
- engage in outdoor activities, like hiking, biking, or camping
- attend workshops or classes, such as cooking, art, or philosophy
- connect with different cultures, like cultural events, festivals, or cuisine
- read inspirational books, like travel, philosophy, or personal growth
- join a social group or club that focus on their interests, such as travel clubs or book clubs
- practice gratitude to reflect on things they appreciate to reignite enthusiasm
- engage in physical activities, like yoga, dance, or team sports
- attend lectures, seminars, or discussions on topics that interest them
- take a digital detox to unplug and reconnect with themselves
More Ideas: start a travel journal documenting last adventures and future dreams; choose a random topic or skill to learn, like a new language or dance style; visit a cultural museum, theater, or festival to immerse in new perspectives and experiences; create a bucket list; create an accountability group; start a nature journal that documents observations about nature, seasons, and personal reflections during walks or hikes; join an outdoor adventure group; start a travel blog or vlog; participate in a poetry or storytelling night
Capricorn
- set new goals, like reassessing personal or professional goals and create a clear plan to achieve them
- engage in physical exercise, participate in strength training, running, or hiking
- tidy up living or workspaces, since they appreciate order
- connect with nature, like taking a walk in the park or hike in the mountains
- establish a routine that includes time for work, self-care, and leisure
- network and build connections, like attending professional network events or social gatherings, to open new doors and inspire ambition
- prioritize self-care activities, like massages, spa days, or quiet evenings at home
- learn a new skill or hobby, through cooking, a new language, or musical instrument
More Ideas: set up a structured personal challenge, like a month-long fitness routine; take an unconventional course in a field of interest outside career path; create a detailed vision board of long-term goals; create a personal development podcast about self-improvement, productivity, or career tips; delve into ancient philosophies [ like stoicism ] or classic literature that resonates with values; try minimalist living for a week
Aquarius
- try innovative projects, through art, writing, or technology
- explore new ideas, through reading books or articles on unconventional topics, science, or philosophy
- participate in social activism or community service
- connect with like-minded individuals, like joining groups or forums that align with interests
- take time alone to reflect and recharge to renew motivation
- try new experiences, like new acting, foods, or adventures, which can invigorate curiosity
- experiment with technology, like new gadgets or apps
- spend time in nature, like hiking, bike riding, or a picnic in a park
- practice mindfulness techniques or meditation to calm busy mind
- create a vision board with goals and aspirations to visual dreams
More Ideas: brainstorm creative solutions to social issues or personal projects; explore workshops on unusual topics, like improv, urban foraging, or alternative therapies; conduct a social experiment, like “random acts of kindness” challenges to explore human connection in a unique way; join hackathons or creative meetups that focus in technology or social change; use VR technology to explore new worlds or experiences
Pisces
- try artistic pursuits, like painting, drawing, writing, or playing music
- practice mindfulness meditation to center themselves
- spend time near water, whether it’s the ocean, a lake, or a river
- volunteer for a cause, like community service or supporting a cause they care about
- create a dream or aspirations journal to process emotions and thoughts
- immerse in music that resonates with their mood or inspires them
- explore spiritual practices, like yoga, tarot reading, rituals, or belief systems
- surround themselves with beauty, like creating a peaceful or aesthetically pleasing environment; add plants, soft lighting, or artwork
- spend time with loved ones, and share thoughts or feelings to provide emotional support
- take a break from routine and allow for spontaneity, whether it’s a day trip, new hobby, or an adventure
More Ideas: write a short story or poem based on their dreams or fantasies; partner with other artists or creatives to collaborate in a project to blend imagination with others; join a meditation or spiritual group to share experiences; try underwater exploration, like snorkeling or scuba diving; attend a sound bath session; volunteer at an animal shelter or sanctuary; create a collaborative playlist where friends can contribute; start a book swap; participate in a poetry slam
Through the Houses
First House
- focus in self-care and personal expression; engage in activities that boost self-esteem; exploring their identity; setting personal goals, establish limits that honor personal needs; explore personal interests and passions; find authentic ways to express themselves
Second House
- explore what they value most in life; educate and reassess financial priorities; find creative ways to utilize resources; ensure life choices align with core values; declutter material possessions; explore new income sources; cultivate gratitude for resources; work towards greater financial autonomy
Third House
- enhance communication skills like increasing active listening skills; build local connections; expand knowledge and explore new ideas; engage in stimulating conversations like knowledge exchange; embrace curiosity more; engage in puzzles, games, or brain-training exercises; blog or write to communicate thoughts, feelings, and ideas
Fourth House
- nurture family relationships; create a supportive home environment like understanding and improving family relationships; reflect on emotional foundations; connect with heritage and traditions; find comfort in solitude; design a space that promotes peace and comfort
Fifth House
- embrace creativity and self-expression; build or deepen romantic connections; explore leisure activities; try hobbies that excite them; focus on seeking joy and playfulness; explore various forms of artistic expression; reconnect with their inner child and joyful nostalgic experiences
Sixth House
- address stress and well-being; find satisfaction at work; engage in acts of service that contributes to well-being; find efficient ways to manage daily tasks; more regular exercise and nutritious meals; focus on quality good and being present while you’re eating food; create boundaries to avoid burnout; incorporate more self-care routines; gratitude journaling; integrate more therapies like acupuncture, massages, or aromatherapy
Seventh House
- foster open communication; strengthen personal relationships; navigate conflicts more constructively; build new partnerships; set shared objectives for growth in partnerships; engage in projects that require teamwork; engage in community more like clubs or community activities; practice gratitude for relationships; balance give and take in all types of relationships
Eighth House
- address fears and desires; explore intimacy and vulnerability; embrace personal transformation; let go of old patterns; delve into unknown aspects of life like psychology and spirituality; understand the importance of collaboration with shared resources
Ninth House
- explore different cultures, philosophies, or spiritual practices; question beliefs and values; pursue higher education or spiritual growth; plan traveling; define long-term goals; join discussion groups
Tenth House
- define career aspirations; reflect achievements and legacy; explore networking opportunities; enhance public image; seek leadership opportunities; cultivate leadership skills and confidence; consider what they can contribute to society;
Eleventh House
- nurture friendships and social connections; purse collective goals; connect with others with shared ideals and visions; engage in community involvement; work with friends on common goals; strengthen ties with friends and like-minded individuals; visualize future aspirations and dreams
Twelfth House
- explore spirituality; reflect on subconscious influences; address emotional healing; engage in solitude for introspection; focus on cultivating creativity and imagination; incorporate rituals or meditative practices into routine; address past traumas and emotional baggage; explore dreams through recording them; cultivate a compassionate mindset that acknowledges shared struggles and fosters a sense of community; find healthy outlets for emotional release, like through movement, art, or conversation
136 notes · View notes