#easy buy elephants

[shilohsylvanian]

New Release! For the Sylvanian 40th Anniversary Dream Baby Showtime set Japan March 8, 2025 release.

No announcement for global yet but my ASSUMPTION is a tandem release. Now with the 35th anniversary stuff, we saw a LOT of some sets and barely any of others, so knowing which will be plentiful is hard to tell unfortunately. All are baby figures, Pookie Panda Angela, Elephant (easy buy) Hilton, Tuxedo cat Angelica, and newborn Snow Rabbit Poplar.

[enwoso]

the fallout | alessia russo x child!reader

based on this request:)

grumpy masterlist | i would recommend reading ‘first heartbreak’ to get up to speed:)

alessia's phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, again. and again. and again, for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour.

alessia didn't move from where she stood, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she stared out the window. supposed to be planning her schedule for the next few weeks which her manager had just sent her.

but her eyes every other second were flickering to the your little blonde figure as you were curled up in the couch. you were quiet. too quiet. your favourite elephant teddy, esme tucked under your arm. your thumb hovering near your mouth — something you hadn't done in months. a habit that had been broken months ago.

her phone buzzed once more. alessia snatched it up and pressed the red button, the buzzing making her feel as though she was about to go insane.

she didn't want to hear his voice. not yet. not after yesterday. not after. 'whose y/n-?'

the ache still heavy in her chest. but then came a knock at the door. your little head looking up as you watched your mummy get up from the kitchen table. your eyes moving back to the tv screen.

alessias jaw tightened. she crossed the room, brushing her hand over your head on the way. you not batting an eyelid. but as your mummy opened the door, the last person she expected to be stood there.

harrison — stood there. looking as if he'd just thrown himself together in the last minute. like this was just another thing he needed to do to tick off his list. he held an armful of giftbags.

alessia mentally groaning, of course this was the way he decided to apologise. not with words but instead trying to buy his way to forgive. alessia had seen it all before, let’s just say you weren't the first he'd tried to buy forgiveness from when he fucked up.

"hi," he said, trying for that easy charm, "i, um brought some stuff for y/n. just wanted to... make it up to her."

she didn't speak, just stepped back arms crossed tight as he walked into through the hallway into the kitchen. alessia not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the street.

he placed the glittery bags which were conveniently your favourite colour, on the table. pulling things out like some poorly-cast game show host. a loud, flashing obnoxious if you would, doll. a stuffed animal. a cheap makeup kit. a chocolate egg, with nuts — all things you probably wouldn’t enjoy.

"she doesn't like that chocolate, she says it make her tummy feel all wobbly.." alessia trailed off pointing to the package.

harrison blinked as he turned to look at alessia, "wait, what? seriously? i didn't... i thought—"

"you thought wrong," alessia snapped, her voice firm but not rising it knowing you were in the room just next door. not wanting to unsettle you anymore than you had been in the past twenty four hours.

"cause you don't know her, not properly anyways harrison. you don't know a single thing about your daughter. and don't even think that this-" she waved a hand towards the pile of gifts, "makes up for what you did."

"i messed up, okay? but i'm still trying..."

alessia shook her head, laugh escaping her lips. the cruel and bitter type as if she can't believe the words coming from his mouth. "no, you forgot her. forgot her name. she waited all fucking week for you, talking about nothing else but how excited she was that her daddy was finally coming to watch her-"

alessia paused, feeling her breath catch in her throat. "-she even told her teacher that you were coming. that little girl kept checking that crowd yesterday convinced she'd missed you. and you, you couldn't even be bothered to show up. you were hungover, and then when you finally answered the phone you didn't even know who she was. but you're ‘trying’ so that makes that all fucking okay doesn't it!"

he flinched at her words. good. she wanted it to sting. she wanted him to feel as hurt as you had yesterday.

"she cried herself to sleep last night, harrison. do you even understand what that means to a five year old? for your own daughter to wonder if her own dad even loves her?"

"i do love her," he said, too quickly.

alessia scoffed, voice bitter as she whispered but still loud enough that he could hear her words clear as day, "then you have a fucking hell of way of showing it then haz."

there was silence for a beat. then, softer now, she added, "you don't get to drop in with some shiny new toys and expect it to fix the damage you've done. she's not stupid. and she's very not some chore you can do once a month when the guilt catches up."

"i just want to take her out for the day. try to rebuild something." harrison shrugged as if he was asking a question to himself, as if he was trying to convince himself.

alessia stared at him, her anger still there but layered now with exhaustion. "you want to take her out? fine. you can ask her. but if she says no, that's it. you respect that."

she turned to the lounge. "lovie? come here, baby."

you emerged, esme the elephant clutched tight as if it was the only thing which understood you. but when you saw the tall figure standing next to your mummy, you stopped short.

"hey, y/n," he said, crouching slightly. "i brought you some stuff. thought maybe we could hang out today, just you and me."

you didn't move. your face went pale, your eyes wide.

"mummy..." you whispered, shaking your head almost immediately as you rushed to your mummy and clinging to her legs. "don't make me go. please don't make me go with him."

alessia knelt down, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "you don't have to, baby. i promise, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

you looked up at her with tear-stained cheeks as you shook your head once again. "i don't wanna go with him. he doesn't even know me. he didn't even come. he forgot me."

alessia's throat tightened. she looked up, meeting harrison's eyes — and this time, there was no anger in hers. just cold, heartbreaking disappointment.

you pressed your face back into your mummy's shoulder, voice muffled and cracked: "that's not my daddy anymore."

"she stopped calling you daddy last night," alessia said quietly. "you earned that."

and harrison, the cocky, thoughtless harrison, finally looked like he understood what he'd done, the pain and heartbreak he had caused.

[aeragan]

ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴍᴇʀ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): messmer x gn reader

✧ a/n: chat is it like financially acceptable to buy a $260 collectors edition when you already have the game just for a statue of a guy You Like Too Much (do i have a thing for redheads?) also before anyone says "you can do anything you put your mind to" i can but also all i imagine is him splitting me in half so penetration... i know that he's messmer the impaler but not of this boypussy he aint

🗒 cw: SMUT, SHADOW OF THE ERDTREE SPOILERS, gn reader, tarnished reader, size difference, a little ooc, frotting, thigh jobs, handjobs, oral, accidental manhandling, hair pulling, praise, pesudo-bondage(?), not proofread

✎ wc: 1.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Intimacy is a long abandoned thought within the lands between. Long gone are the days of tenderness, and in their wake, only blood and steel remain. That is to say, MESSMER is a virgin. Painfully so.

Sex is quite the foreign concept for someone who’s being is steeped within the flames of war. The most love he had known was his mother’s coddling before she had disappeared, and in his rage, he had never sought out another form of love. Torn between the want for his mother to look down upon him once more, and the need to kill, to earn her approval once more, the thought of loving another, of trusting another with his body, his mind, his heart, it is near unfathomable.

And yet, here you were. Someone who stirred such benevolent (and more) feelings within him. How so utterly kind of you to share with him your heart, your mind, your body. He must repay you in kind, of course.

Now, let’s talk about the elephant in the room, or the snakes in the room, if you will. He feels quite embarrassed to have them there when you two… engage. While they understand and know his feelings– and they were the very obvious sign of his interest in you– to him, it’s the equivalent of having your pet in the room while you have sex. He makes them look away, since that is about all he can do. It is quite awkward your first time. But, they’ll come into play, later.

Due to MESSMER’s size, he is quite nervous about entering you, even with his fingers. It takes him a little while to get used to it. He trims his nails just for you, and he draws the line at two fingers, one is almost enough as it is. He gets accustomed to fingering you quickly, to have you sit in his lap while he presses his fingers into you, his free hand resting on your thigh and pushing it open, it is his own little piece of heaven.

Oral is another option for him, of course. Something that is much more easy on his mind, he doesn’t have to worry about delving too deep, nor about hurting you. He can just settle his head between your thighs and take what he wishes as you writhe above him. Pull his hair and praise him, and he’ll cum untouched. I promise.

He excels at oral, though. Put that practiced tongue to use. He maintains contact all the while, even though his face is quite red. He gives you this beautiful look that speaks volumes, ‘touch me, I beg’, it says. ‘Please’. And if you answer that plea, even simply by stroking his cheek, he lets out an audible shiver. Even his snakes shake a little, letting out a soft hiss as he continues.

On that note, however, good lord does this man enjoy a good frotting session. He is afraid to enter you, like I said, due to his size. Frotting is a good way to atleast feel you, while also granting himself pleasure, without hurting you. He could go on for days and nights just rutting against you, whimpering into your skin, simply basking in the (rather lewd) intimacy of it all.

MESSMER also quite enjoys thigh jobs. He loves them, actually. He sits you in his lap, fucking his cock up into the plush of your thighs, head buried in the crook of your neck as he guides your own rhythm. Of course, he could let you grind by yourself, but he prefers to take matters into his own hands (literally). It’s the least he can offer you (less of a workout) while he lets go of all his sexual frustrations between your thighs. He doesn’t mean to jostle you around as much as he does, he can’t help it.

Speaking of sexual frustrations, this man is PACKED FULL OF THEM. I’m not saying he could be fixed by jacking off, but he could at least feel a little better afterwards. With you, good lord has he calmed down. He’s a lot less tense, happier, perhaps even jubilant. You cannot wash away the fact that his mother is strung up and imprisoned by a god, but perhaps all MESSMER needed was to feel the warmth of another, rather than simmer in the ever-burning flame that he has come to know, and despise.

Now, about his snakes… it takes a long while for him to open up to the idea of them being incorporated into sex. Having them simply turn away makes it feel awkward, of course, but perhaps they could do more…? They do adore you, after all. Perhaps a little impromptu bondage? Keeping your hands tied as he feasts upon you, or perhaps keeping your legs parted as his cock glides against your own sex.

He isn't the most kinkiest guy, of course. Although, “kinky” in the Lands Between and Land of Shadow might be totally different to our description. The most he does is overstimulate you, but never on purpose. Sometimes MESSMER gets too ahead of himself, too wanting. And he takes what he wants, what he needs. Though he always apologizes afterwards, not that you mind. He never takes it too far anyways. He's got quite the stamina, yet still falls short due to his experience (i.e, zero).

Perhaps the two of you cannot be as close as you wish during sex, but that doesn't make the act any less intimate. Especially to him, a life so devoid of such love, only consumed by hate and longing, but never yearning. He's the kind of guy to cry during sex. Partially because it feels so good to him, but also because he has never understood this intimacy. Not until now. All sorts of proclamations of love spill from his lips as he guides your thighs along his lanky cock, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sobbing even softer words. Stroke his hair, whisper even sweeter words to him, and return the sentiment. He’ll cum harder, cry a little bit more, and reward you in kind. He’ll lift his head from your neck and look upon you with a teary-eyed, soft expression, and then kiss you oh so sweetly despite his cum coating your thighs.

MESSMER also likes a little balance in your guys’ sex life. He wants– needs to please you as much as you do him. He lets no deed go unrewarded, if you were to jack him off, he'd return by fingering you. And if you allow him to fuck your thighs, he’ll go down on you with a fervor that is unmatched. He makes sure you cum as much as he does, and vice versa. He’s a very fair man, in that aspect.

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog

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[bloomzone]

skincare mindset ?

So what if your skin has breakouts? So what if someone points it out? Your beauty, confidence, and power don’t disappear because of acne !Real beauty isn’t about perfectionit’s about being you .

You are strong enough to face the world, with or without clear skin. Keep showing up, keep taking care of yourself, and keep loving the person you are beyond the surface. Because u exactly as you are are already enough.

There will be days when your skin feels like a battle, when you avoid mirrors, when you wonder if people are staring. But listen your skin is not your enemy. It is healing, growing, and protecting you every single day. Instead of criticizing it, start appreciating it.

Every small act of care washing your face, applying moisturizer, choosing not to pick is a step forward. Even if progress feels slow, u are healing pooks

And to those who mock, judge, or act superior because they don’t have acne their words do not define you. Their validation is not needed. You don’t owe anyone “perfect” skin to be worthy of respect, love, or confidence.

Walk into every room knowing that you are enough, exactly as you are. Your skin is a part of you, but it does not define your beauty or your power.

also it's easy to feel discouraged when someone with flawless skin claims they only use water or some 1k dollars products but your skin has different needs and that’s okay and you are not forced to buy flipping shh that y'know damn it's just aesthetic . Instead of chasing quick fixes , build a routine that works for you.

Start with the basics and go to a parapharmacie and ask about what is right for u : a gentle cleanser to remove dirt and oil, a moisturizer to keep your skin hydrated, and sunscreen to protect it. acne ? add products that support healing, like niacinamide, salicylic acid, or a soothing toner there is no shame in googling ur needs and know the acids that ur skin need to feel calmer and healthier. But remember less is more. Overloading your skin with too many products won’t speed up results it might just make things worse.

The problem arises when tiktok viral skincare “cures” are presented as quick fixes, and many users expect instant results, leading to impatience. This unrealistic expectation can cause frustration when results aren’t immediate, and people begin to doubt their routine or skip essential steps . Worse, influencers might promote products that don’t align with their actual skin type or needs, leading to confusion among followers who are still figuring out their own skin.

Filters and editing apps only add to the distortion. Everyone looks flawless in the perfect lighting or when skin is digitally smoothed. This creates an unrealistic standard that makes those with natural skin feel less than. It’s hard to focus on what’s healthy when your feed is filled with “perfect” skin, and everyone seems to have found the one magic mask or whatever..

In reality, skincare is a long-term journey, and no product or trend will work for everyone. What works for someone else may irritate your skin or give no results at all. The constant influx of trends makes us forget that our skin isn’t a trend to be followed it’s a unique part of our body that deserves patience, self-care, and a personalized routine.

Be cautious of what you see online and take advice with a grain of salt. Don’t let any social media platform pressure you into thinking your skin isn’t good enough because it doesn’t match the “perfect” standards set by influencer Not because you don’t use high-end products like La Mer, glowrecipe, or drunk elephant means you’re failing at skincare. Your skin’s journey is your own and it’s okay if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s .

Don’t fall into the trap of quick fixes or comparisons. Instead, remember that every step you take in your skincare routine is a chance to show yourself love, to slow down and care for your body. u are worthy of care

with love @bloomzone

[sarah-the-bird-nerd]

Three - Michael's Version

Note: Here is Michael's version of Three...I tried for more fluff than angst...I'm not as happy with this one.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Fem!Reader, no beta, normal ER violence, mentions of COVID, mentions of death, some Pitt Fest

Summary: Snippets of your relationship with Michael and how you wordlessly say that you love each other, and the fallout of Pitt Fest.

You met Dr. Michael Robinavitch under less than ideal circumstances shortly after his split from Janey. You and your friend had been leaving a coffee shop when a car jumped the curb. You were fine, but your friend had been clipped and gone down. Michael had been down the street walking home after a long shift and jumped into action. Thankfully, other than some bumps and bruises and being shaken up, Emily was fine, and no hospital trip was needed. Both of you were on your way home with strict instructions on what to look for in case he'd missed something, and Michael was on his way to his own home. You thought that was the last you'd see of him until the following week, running into him at the coffee shop where you were able to properly thank him, buying him a coffee, and the rest was history.

You were practically inseparable; if he wasn't at work, you were at his place or vice versa, usually curled up on the couch. On his off weekends, you found yourself out at his cabin, hidden away in the woods, hiking and sitting around the fire at night, cuddled up to each other and just enjoying the peace and quiet. Those were your favourite moments, just the two of you, no busy city, no pagers, no rushing around. Just you, Michael and nature. It was at this cabin that he told you he loved you for the first time. You had gone on an early morning hike, humouring him and his ridiculous need to be up at the crack of dawn. You'd let him guide you along on one of the trails you took all the time, resting on a fallen log at the top of the trail, overlooking the lake with the sun coming up. With your back against his chest, one of his arms around your waist, the other around your shoulders, he'd whispered those three little words into your ear.

You repeated them, turning your head to smile at him, and squeezing his knee three times.

—

1 year into your relationship, COVID happened, you ended up out of a job, for who knows how long, as you were deemed a 'non-essential' worker. As a result, Michael invited you to move in, both of you knowing that if you didn't move in, you'd see a lot less of him due to his job. It was an easy decision, you practically lived with him as it was. You had tried to argue because you couldn't pay rent until you went back to work. He didn't care, wanted you close, and that was the end of that. The only places he went during COVID were work and home, immediately getting in the shower before he'd collapse in bed or on the sofa with you. You looked after everything else, the shopping, cooking, cleaning, and making sure that he was okay, and when he'd come home, you'd be ready, food warm, comfy clothes ready and ready to be whatever he needed that day. Usually, you'd be curled around him or him around you, three little squeezes to his hand letting him know that you were there and that you loved him. Three squeezes always were returned.

As the pandemic continued, with no end in sight, you found yourself sending him to work with boxes of goodies for the emergency team, cookies, cakes, anything to try and help raise morale for everyone. Sometimes, you'd send full meals, other times you'd show up yourself, mid-shift, with enough to keep an elephant on its feet. Before COVID, you'd done so once a month, during it was at least twice a week. Baking and cooking for them all kept you busy when you weren't doing virtual classes, something you'd started when you had moved in, wanting to do something more with your life and to help people. Michael had been supportive, and suddenly you found yourself starting classes to be a social worker, aiming to work in the hospital with Kiara, who had become a great resource. Needless to say, you were a welcome face in the emergency department. Every time you visited, you made sure that you left three taps or squeezed him, letting him know you loved him.

—

6 months into COVID, and you weren't feeling well. Michael was working a double, and you had a fever that was rapidly climbing, and your chest felt tighter and tighter. You tried not to panic, for the most part, you were a healthy, young woman, except for having asthma, but it was controlled, so nothing to worry about, and you likely didn't have COVID anyway...Or so you thought. When you lost your ability to smell, you thought it was just a cold, when you took a drink of tea and it tasted like, well, nothing, you knew you were screwed. You swore and grabbed one of the testing kits that Michael kept on hand. 15 minutes later, you had confirmation that you had COVID. You texted Michael to warn him, letting him know you were sanitising everything the best that you could, throwing your bedsheets in the laundry and moving into the guest room where you would stay until cleared.

He'd texted back with a thumbs up.

—

When he'd gotten back home 7 hours later, he hopped in the shower like he usually did, changed into clean clothes and checked the laundry, finding that you had managed to move the stuff from the washer into the dryer. He'd knocked on the guest room door, a mask on his face and just poked his head in the door enough to lay eyes on you. "You good?" He'd asked. You managed a weak smile and a thumbs-up. "I feel like shit, but I'm fine. I'll keep you posted." He'd nodded. "Yell if you need me...better yet, test, save your airway." You gave him a mock salute and sent him on his way.

The next morning, you were significantly worse, coughing more than you'd ever coughed in your life, and you were sure you'd cracked a rib or two in the process. By 5 am, Michael was moving around the apartment and stopped to poke his head in the door again, mask in place and gloves on, wanting to evaluate you without waking you up. Not that you'd had a whole lot of sleep by the sound of things. He wasn't happy with what he saw. Your breathing was laboured, and you were paler than he'd ever seen you. He used the temperature gun on your forehead and ended up shaking you awake, shoving Tylenol and water in you in hopes that he'd get your temp down. He left you alone after that, checking in again at 6 am, just before he was ready to leave. With no changes, he'd had enough and carried you to his truck and took you to the ER himself.

You didn't leave for a month, ending up on a ventilator. His anxiety started the day you were intubated. He spent 90% of his time at the hospital during that time, sneaking into your room throughout the day, squeezing your hand three times every time he saw you. You were in good hands, and he knew that Adamson was looking after you himself. When you were finally well enough to come off the ventilator, you awoke, confused, scared and unsure of what day it was. When you'd finally been allowed to see Michael, you'd cried, told him you loved him, and he responded by proposing.

—

If you thought Michael was a mess after you'd woken up, he was even worse when Adamson went down. Outside of the nurses, Michael didn't want anyone else looking after his mentor. If it hadn't been for Jack Abbot, Michael wouldn't have left the hospital, but when he did, you could tell that he wasn't home, not really. He went through the day-to-day motions, showering, eating (only because you made him), and fitfully sleeping. You stayed by his side, being as supportive as you could, letting him know that you were there for him the best that you could.

The day that Dana called you to tell you that they'd lost Adamson, you had no idea what version of Michael that you would get. You left the apartment immediately, knowing that he was going to need you. When you arrived, Dana let you know that he was taking a breather on the roof, not uncommon for him. You'd approached him carefully, not sure if he would lash out; he didn't typically, but this was different. He must have felt you before he heard you because he turned, his eyes red, his face crumpled as he reached out to you. You moved quickly, stepping into his arms and holding him close. He was mumbling as he sobbed into your shoulder, and when you realised what he was saying, your heart broke even more.

"He saved you, but I couldn't save him..."

All you could do was hold him tight, rhythmically you squeezed his shoulder in bursts of three...telling him you loved him over and over again.

—

Michael wasn't quite the same after that. No one was, not after the pandemic. He had frequent panic attacks that he had tried to hide; they got better but would get worse the closer time got to the anniversary of Adamson's death. He always got quiet in the weeks before, his sleep interrupted more than usual. He was better for a little while, especially once restrictions were lifted enough that you finally got married. But every year like clockwork, he would close himself off, but you understood, you wished he'd let you help more, but he wouldn't. He was too stubborn for that.

You woke up the morning of Pitt Fest, expecting Michael to be getting ready to head out with Jake, taking his mind off of everything, and you, currently on maternity leave, would have a blissful day reading and spending time with your 1-month-old daughter Amelia. What you found instead was Michael in the kitchen feeding your daughter, dressed in scrubs like he was going to work. You stared up at him, a small smile on your lips, a phenomenon that seemed to happen every time you saw him holding his little girl. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "That doesn't look like someone who is going to Pitt Fest...What are you doing, Mikey?"

He looked up at you, slightly startled, but shook it off fairly quickly. "I can't avoid working today forever, and Jake wanted to take his girlfriend to Pitt Fest so..." He shrugged, pushing himself off the counter where he was leaning before approaching you, he handed you the baby before framing your face in his hands. "I will be fine, stop worrying." You snorted, leaning up to kiss him softly.

You tapped his face gently with one finger three times. "I always worry."

He smirked a bit. "I love you, too."

—

You received several texts from Michael throughout the day. You were relieved because that meant that he was okay, or as okay as he could be. You texted Dana to double check, she said he was okay for the most part, a few off moments, but he was okay. Four hours in, Dana let you know that he was having a bad day, they had lost more than one patient, and he was hiding it well, but she could tell that he was struggling.

Hours later, your phone went off again, only this time it was a safety alert, a warning that there was a shooter at Pitt Fest and that people were to avoid the area. You swore, texting Michael that you had heard, that you loved him and would be here waiting up whenever he got back home. He didn't respond, but you knew he would have been alerted first and would answer you when and if he could. Your worry then moved to Jake, texting both him and his mom. No answer. Jack had called you as he was rushing out the door, letting you know that he was heading in to help and that he would let you know how Michael was the moment that he could. You were glad that you both had good friends in the hospital who would help to look after each other.

—

What seemed like years later, Amelia was in her crib, and you were curled up on the couch, a movie on in the background that you weren't watching. You shot up when you heard his keys in the door, rushing to the door where you practically wrenched it open. He stared down at you, his eyes red and tired, looking like he'd aged a good twenty years. You pulled him close. "Come here, I've got you." You held him tight for a second before tugging him to the bedroom. You sat against the headboard, patting your lap. "Come on."

He didn't have to be told twice, kicking off his shoes before putting his head in your lap, burying his face in your stomach with one arm wrapped around your waist. You worked your fingers through his hair. "I've got you, Michael. I know that you're beating yourself up, and don't tell me that you're not, I know you. But you did all you could, okay? You always do. I know that it sucks, but you tried, and for every patient you have lost, you have saved 100 more."

You're heart shattered when he finally spoke. "Leah's dead. I tried...and I couldn't. Jake hates me." I had known already, both Janey and Dana texting me, but the pain in his voice hurt even more. "I'm not going to say its going to be okay, because it sucks...but Jake will understand in time. Right now, he's mad at the world, but he'll come around. You have me. You have Amelia, and we love you."

He didn't respond verbally, but he squeezed you tight around the waist, his hand finding yours and squeezing three times.

I love you.

[sashaisready]

Valentine's Disaster

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky is determined to give you the Valentine's Day he believes you secretly want, it's the least you deserve. Unfortunately, things don't go quite to plan...

This is a sweet little fic I've been working on for Valentine's Day, hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Happy V-Day to you all in this lovely community! ❤️

One shot / allusion to smut but nothing explicit / Bucky is trying, ok?!

Wordcount: 2.6k

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

February 12th

He hasn’t ‘done’ Valentine’s Day in the best part of a century, and back in the days when he did, it was a handwritten card and a box of candy for the girl you liked. Simple, sweet. An excuse to go dancing and make-out.

But now? The shops are awash with pink and red, large hanging signs in the aisles are practically screaming at him ‘not to forget!’

And how could anyone forget? It’s a full-on assault of the senses. Enjoy this Valentine’s limited-edition doughnut! Buy those matching heart-print pyjamas for you and your valentine! Buy perfume! Flowers! Teddy bears the size of toddlers! Enough chocolate to take down an elephant! Take a couples’ trip, book a romantic spa day, spend a rent payment on roses! He’s seen cards meant for pets, cards from pets. As if Alpine would ever entertain such nonsense, even if she could read. Every time he runs errands, he feels like his brain might fall out. 

Thankfully, home is an oasis of calm. He sits on the couch half-watching some documentary while your head lays in his lap, scrolling idly on your phone. Alpine is curled up across your legs, occasionally purring in her blissful sleep as you give her a head an absent-minded scratch. 

He runs his metal fingers through your hair without even noticing he’s doing it – muscle memory at this point, basking in the comfortable silence - a private sanctuary from the outside world. The world he still doesn’t fully understand. The man out of time.

But you, you he understands. It all moved quickly, sure. But when you know you know, don’t they say? He sees that now. He saw that on your first date. Watching you laugh, your eyes sparkling - he was sorry that he zoned out while you told him that funny anecdote, but he just couldn’t stop looking at you.

He knew he was in trouble. 

First date. First kiss. More dates. Inseparable, easy. Like visiting somewhere new for the first time but somehow knowing exactly where to go. Maybe moving in together after six months had been hasty, sure. But it just felt right. 

No logic, just a feeling. He’d wasted so much time, so much life - why waste even more? ‘You’re here all the time, anyway, why not just make it official?’ Yes. Yes, you’d love to. Your clothes moved into his closet as smoothly as you’d moved into his life. It was as if you’d always been there. Kitchen dances and late-night chats. New recipes, old sweatshirts. Gymnastics in the bedroom. One failed attempt at a shared bubble bath that had gone so badly wrong you’d both laughed until big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks. Misjudging just how much room he took up, easily done. So much for romance, you had joked. 

But it was romance for him. 

And what about for you? 

You hadn’t been together for a Valentine’s Day yet. Sure, he’d bought flowers and cooked for you before. You had shyly thanked him and kissed his cheek. But you didn’t need big gestures, you’d told him. Didn’t care about giant teddy bears or rose petal trails. ‘Make me a good cup of coffee, fix the leaky sink and keep the oil in my car topped up and I’ll be happy’ you’d said. Well, he could do all that. And he did. He took care of you and your home. You’d told him once that his love language for you was acts of service, which meant he liked doing things for you – practical help. Fixing, bringing, making. He didn’t know about all that, but he knew he would always look after you. He wasn’t always the best at words and romance, but his actions spoke for him when he didn’t know how to say it.

He’d bought you a card. A silly one. One to make you laugh, about pancakes. Not one of the vulgar ones, some of the sentiments he’d seen printed made him wrinkle his nose. He was no prude, but his Ma would’ve turned in her grave at some of them. Not everything needed to be an innuendo. He’d already written a note inside it. A little sappy, but he meant every word. He’d also planned to pick up a bouquet of pretty flowers, maybe take you to lunch out at your favourite coffee shop. 

But now he glances down and sees what you’re looking at on your phone. You’re scrolling that photograph app, the Instagram one. It’s not for him but he doesn’t mind. It’s cute when you post a picture of your coffee on there, even if he teases you for it. 

You must be on a Valentine’s trend. Trend, is that what they call it? Hashtag? He watches you flick through endless pictures and videos…rose petals scattered on immaculate bedspreads, champagne glasses posed perfectly against a sunset backdrop, endless hauls of flowers and chocolate, balloons stretched to spell out names. Perfectly put together young women posing coyly and peering through their lashes, showing off diamonds and designer handbags...

…is this what you really wanted? You’d never said…but you were looking at those pictures so intently…

Had he really got it so wrong?

His heart sank as he imagined your disappointment. A jokey card? Lunch at the same old place you always went? Is that all he’d done for you on this apparent big day?

Maybe the stores were right.

You wouldn’t say anything, of course. You’re too sweet for that. Too empathetic, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. But he pictured the dismay in your eyes at his meagre offering and felt a physical ache in his chest. He’d never want to disappoint you, to let you down. 

He slowly got up from the couch, carefully cradling your head to put you back down onto the cushions as he slipped away.

“Just starting dinner, doll,” he muttered as he headed to the door. 

“Okay baby,” you replied distractedly - your eyes still on your phone. Alpine miaowed in protest at the sudden change in movements. You scoffed at the latest image, a hotel room decorated ceiling to carpet with helium balloons and ribbons - practically fit to burst. “What a waste of plastic,” you exclaimed to yourself. “Who really needs all of this? What a joke…”

“What did you say?” Bucky called from the kitchen. 

“Nothing important,” you called back as you shifted Alpine and got to your feet, flinging your phone back onto the couch. That was quite enough hate scrolling for one evening.

“Buck, I’m coming to help”. 

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

February 14th

“Fuck!” he muttered to himself as yet another balloon popped. He kept overstuffing them, underestimating how much air his lungs could hold as he blew them up. Super soldier problems. 

He sighed and gathered the few intact balloons, spreading them around the living room. There weren’t as many as he’d have liked, but they would do. 

Next, he eyed the banner, sagging down at the corners after his ill-fated attempt to hang it. He thought a hand-made banner was a bit much, but Sam had insisted it would tie everything together. DIY decorations show you’ve made the effort, he’d said.

He squinted up at the carefully drawn letters, HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY. The paint was a little uneven, and he cursed himself for not being better at crafting. The smattering of glitter in his hair was further proof of that. But it was up there, at least.

Sam had better know what he’s talking about.

You were due home from work any moment, he’d spent the last few hours rushing around trying to give you the Valentine’s Day you apparently secretly wanted. Dinner was nearly done, rose petals had been sprinkled from the hallway to the living room, champagne chilled, and the largest teddy bear he could find sat staring at him from your favourite armchair. 

He frowned; it all seemed a bit much. But he reminded himself he was doing it for you. He’d do anything for you. He’d walk through fire if he had to, swim an ocean. He could handle a few balloons and a fancy dinner if it made you happy.

Speaking of dinner…what was that smell?

Oh…fu-

He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a dish rag, fanning the smoke away as he cursed and popped a window. He flung the oven door open and pulled out the now charred dish with his vibranium hand. He cursed more, cursed louder, slamming the dish onto the stove top as he tried to figure out what the hell had gone so wrong. After all, he’d followed the recipe to the letter…

He looked at the oven and quickly saw his mistake - he must’ve knocked the temperature dial somehow as it was turned significantly higher than it should’ve been. Great. No wonder everything was burnt to a crisp. He angrily switched it off and stared at the mess he’d made. What the hell was he going to do when you got-

“Babe, I’m home- happy Valentine’s Day! Wait, what the-?” Came your voice from the hallway as the front door opened.

Fuck.

“Buck, what’s going on - did something burn? Are those rose petals?”

He sheepishly moved into the hallway. You lit up as you saw him, smiling as you took off your coat. “Hey you, what’s going on in here?”

“I tried to make you dinner,” he sighed. “Didn’t go to plan, I’m sorry…”

You smiled warmly and moved to him, kissing him sweetly as you brushed your hands over his chest. “Oh Buck. That’s okay. Thank you…that’s very sweet of you. Don’t be upset, it happens - we can order in”.

Your reaction simultaneously filled him with relief but also a sense of self-loathing. He’d messed it up already, he’d let you down. You looked relaxed, but he wondered if you were secretly disappointed.

“What is all this?” you giggled as you followed the petals. “Don’t tell me you did all of this for me…”

As the trail guided you into the living room, you gasped at the scene in front of you. Your heart nearly burst at the effort he’d put into all of this. “Oh, Buck! It’s…”

But before you could finish your sentence, disaster ensued.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and all at once. The banner collapsed suddenly, curling at the edges before crumpling to the ground with a quiet thunk – somehow taking out the champagne flutes along with it, knocking them to the floor and shattering them. Almost simultaneously, another balloon popped – causing you both to jump.

And the absolute cherry on the cake?

Alpine, who had been carefully studying the giant teddy bear in the armchair the whole time, leapt up on top of it…

…and began humping it.

“Oh. Oh my god…” you whispered.

“Oh, my god,” Bucky echoed with horror. “Alpine, stop that!”

His chest ached, shame washed over him as he looked at the failure of a Valentine’s Day in ruins around him. He couldn’t give you the day you’d really wanted, the day you deserved. He turned to you, preparing himself to have his heart broken by your disappointed face.

Except…

…you were laughing.

You were shaking silently, your hand over your mouth as you tried to restrain yourself. But you were clearly laughing. You looked back at him guiltily.

“I’m so sorry Buck,” you whispered, your voice strained, “I know you worked so hard on all of this…I promise I’m not laughing at you…”

He glanced around the room at the warzone of his living room – the broken glass, the buckled banner, the remnants of pink balloon rubber, the smell of burning in the air, Alpine’s shameless amorous activity…

It started as a tickle in his throat, a twitch of his lips – and then a hesitant chuckle escaped. And then another. And then both of you were gone, laughing uproariously as you leaned on each other for support. Bent over, hands on knees, desperately trying to regain some sense of composure as hysteria reigned. Loud, hearty laughter filling the room – becoming high squeaks as you both tried to catch your breath.

Alpine, unimpressed by this egregious interruption, finally stopped her assault and left the room indignantly.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed breathily as your thumb wiped a tear from your lash line. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m grateful, really, I am – this was so sweet of you. I’m sorry it didn’t go to plan; I know you must’ve worked really hard on it…”

“It’s okay,” he replied as he took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not great at this stuff. But look,” his tone shifted to something more serious as he took you by the shoulders and held you close, “I’m sorry I fucked it up. I know you wanted the whole Instagram Valentine’s thing…”

You cock an eyebrow in confusion, “what? Says who?”

“I saw you,” he admits sheepishly. “Looking at all the Valentine’s stuff on your phone. I know you wouldn’t say anything, but I was trying to surprise you. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

You sigh as realisation hits you, taking his hands in yours as you rub your thumbs soothingly over his knuckles. “Baby…I didn’t want that stuff, I was just hate-scrolling. That’s not me, you know I don’t really care about all that junk…”

His eyes widen. “You don’t?”

“No! It’s all performative, it doesn’t really mean anything. I just wanna be with you…I’d have been happy with just a card…”

As if on cue you notice the little envelope on the side table with your name on it. You pick it up and open it.

“Oh, it’s dumb…” Bucky shrugs. “It’s just because we always make breakfast together…”

You giggle at the cute image on the front of the card and flick it open to read.

Doll,

Getting to make pancakes with you in our apartment is honestly a life that didn’t seem possible until recently. Thank-you for showing me what love is.

Happy Valentine’s Day, here’s to the first of many.

All my love,

Bucky x

You smile, the tears forming in your eyes as you clutch it to your chest like it’s your prized possession.

“Thank-you, it’s perfect,” you tell him softly as you pull him closer.

The two of you hold each other for a moment, then move in for a saccharine kiss. You press your foreheads together and stand there like that for a while, basking in the warmth of each other – serene in the stronghold of your home, despite the Valentine’s debris around you. Bucky feels relief that he didn’t let you down, finally at ease again.

You look around the room with your hands on your hips, your expression thoughtful as Bucky recognises your ‘action mode’.

“Okay, well I’ll go get your card…and you clean up that glass so Alpine doesn’t walk in it…and then rather than order in - how about we cook something else for dinner?” you tell him softly as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah? What you thinking?” he grins.

“Pancakes”.

“Perfect,” he nods, then his hand glides down your lower back as his voice drops. “And maybe later I can make it up to you in the bedroom…”

“Well, you don’t need to make anything up to me…but I wouldn’t say no to an offer like that…” You flirt as you bite your lower lip. His hand travels lower…

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll”.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck”.

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Don "Big Daddy" Garlits

(From the Hotrod.com interview with Don Garlits)

“Nobody wanted to switch from the 392,” Garlits says. “I was doing great with the 392, but Frank Wylie (Dodge) said, ‘We don’t make that engine anymore.’ He wanted me to race with something the customers could buy. There were a few of us running the 426. Me, Roland [Leong], The Greek [Chris Karamasines], and a lot of people had ’em, but it was like a second car. None of them ran good. We called it the ‘elephant;’ it was a brute! You never smashed the ring lands or squished bearings like in the 392, but it didn’t go anywhere. You know, like an elephant, so big and massive, you can’t hurt it, and it just sort of plods along.”

“It all came to head for me at Columbus. I went in for a match race against Jim and Alison Lee. I ran three runs in the 8s [with the 426], the 392 ran in the 7s, easy, and [the 426] ran 191, 192 mph. The 392 was running 206, 210, easy. I won the race and had top time and low e.t. So I go up there to get paid, and Clark Radar, Sr. [the track owner] is sitting there behind this big desk, But not one thing on it except this stack of money and a .45 pistol, and overhead, this big moose that he’d shot. It was a very intimidating situation, the gun, Mr. Radar, and the moose. He says, ‘Garlits, you laid down on me. You didn’t run 200. I’m cutting your money.’ Then he shoved $500 dollars toward me with one hand, and kinda slid the gun toward me with the other, and told me to get out. Well, I did, but he cut me $750 and that was a lot of money back then.”

“I’d figured out what I was going to do,” he says. “I was going to run the 426, blow it up, load it up, and go back to the 392. Walk away from the Dodge sponsorship, the whole mess. So the next day I put 40 degrees spark lead in the thing — we couldn’t run more than 34 in the 392 or they’d split the cylinder walls. Everyone knew that, so we all ran the 426 the same. My crew was sure I was going to blow it up. They had the backup engine in the truck, ready to go. Well, I make the run, and what do you think it runs? 214 mph! A new world record. We get it back to the pits and drop the pan, expecting to see damage, and it looks beautiful, we didn’t even change the oil! So I get the wrench on the magneto to try more, and the crew is begging me not to, saying ‘Big, it’s a nice engine! It just ran a world record! Don’t blow it up!’ but I got to know, so I go for 50 degrees, and it runs 219. That was it, that was the end of the 392 for me.”

[astroboots]

omg tbh grumpy bored Miguel just having to sit, wait, hand over his credit card and then carry bags from lingerie store to lingerie store is so important to me and my daydreaming lmaoo. Punishment fits the crime imo!!

I also love the idea of him going solo and buying lingerie he likes and leaving her little presents because A) if she likes the pieces then perfect!! or B) if it’s not her taste then it’s perfectly okay for him to rip them of her and she doesn’t even get mad 😏😏

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

When you had asked him to come with you to go shopping for lingerie, he had been thrilled.

Why wouldn't he be.

It had sounded like a great way to spend a few hours of on a lazy weekend together.

In his mind, it'd be you half naked, parading in scanty underwear for his eyes only.

A private fashion show, except sexy, instead of boring, where you'd be wearing a lacy piece that would barely cover your ass cheeks for him. A sheer peer of white panties that would leave nothing to the imagination. A frilly pair that was begging for him to rip them off right then and there, in the changing room.

He hadn't know then that it would be like this.

That apparently, in lingerie stores, men aren't allowed in the changing rooms. That he'd be banished in the lounging area, sat in a pink velvet armchair so tiny, it must be made for dolls that he can barely squeeze his ass into.

He's sitting here, exiled to this depressingly sad space of other bored husbands and boyfriends, who are half dozing off or staring at their phones like dreary zombies. Meanwhile he's hunched in on himself like a shocking elephant trying to fit in a goddamned teacup.

Not for the first time since he arrived in this world, the thought strikes Miguel that your world is a dystopia.

Because what other way is there to describe a world where one is supposed to sit sit mere feet away from their partner, while they get undressed and he's not allowed to look. Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to...

Shock.

This is torture. Why is he left out here like some abandoned dog out in the streets, forced to imagine what you look like in that tiny dressing room.

Forced to imagine you naked, with nothing on but a bra as you look at yourself in the mirror, and nothing he can do about it. Except sit here, as his dick stirs between his legs at the thought of it. Nothing to do but be tortured at the thought of you and your hands cupping your breasts as you try to decide if it's a good fit.

At the way you'd spin in front of your own reflection, and the way those sheer lacy panties he picked for you to try, that splits in the middle, would part as you move.

His fangs itch in his mouth at the thought of it. Fingers gripping into the arms of the armchair, as he resists every instinct to rush to his feet and break into your dressing room. Press you up against the wall until you're flat against it. Every inch of him pressed along yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, spreading you wide open as he --

"Miggy."

He breaks out of his reverie. Blinking up to see your face gaze down at him.

"I'm done," you tell him, showcasing the big shopping bag like a treasure.

Reaching over, he takes it from you. "What did you get in the end?"

"All of them. You've ripped so many I don't have anything nice to wear anymore except my old granny panties, so I figured I needed a whole new collection," you say a little pointedly as you serve him a side eye and steer him out of the shop.

He shakes the bag to peer inside, and the familiar white cotton and cherry patterns of the panties you wore this morning peeks out from the other wrapped items.

"Are those the panties you wore here?"

"Mhmm," you hum absentmindedly as you continue to steer the two of you towards the exit of the mall.

It's probably not easy for you to do, cause Miguel is larger than you, and the place is crowded, but he's too distracted to be more helpful to you in this moment.

Images of you flit through his mind. Of the cute sheer panties you'd picked up earlier hugging your hips even as you're walking next to him in this moment.

"Which one are you wearing now?" He has to swallow down the saliva flooding his tongue so he can ask the question.

Training his eyes on the bag, he tries to sneak another peek, even though every other piece has been carefully wrapped in pink tissue paper. "Is it the pink one? or the red ones?"

You cock your head slightly to the side and observe him with an amused smile lingering on your lips.

"Nope," you tell him, still with that casual smile.

"The sheer lacy one then?"

"No, not that one either."

"The baby blue?"

You shake your head and he frowns. This game of 20 questions is getting a bit too drawn out for his liking. And he doesn't quite get why you won't just give him the answer. Still there's only two more guesses left.

"The black satin?"

"No."

"So the--"

"I'm not wearing that one either," you finish before he even can point out the final option.

His eyebrow quirks in question. "What do you mean?

The gears in his heads are turning but not fully comprehending what you mean by that. He saw the ones you wore this morning in the shopping bag, and if you didn't wear any of the ones you bought then--

"I'm not wearing anything."

... Shock.

Dedication & Credits: To my most beloved @thirstworldproblemss for always having the patience to listen to my unhinged thoughts. She had the most delicious thots about what happens minutes after this.

How Miguel would be too impatient to wait until you made it back home. How Miguel would have you pinned against the wall in a semi-secluded area, all: “don’t worry about it, nena. I’ll know if anyone’s coming, and we’ll be long gone before they get here.” But then being so distracted by you and the feeling of you wrapped around his cock that you nearly get caught anyway, and it’s only because you notice in the last second before discovery and tap him in alarm that makes him manage to haul you out of sight before you got caught.

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕖

secret santa

boyfriend!joe x fem!reader

NSFW! MDNI! bulleted blurb about going to a christmas party & playing secret santa with joe and his friends… but he has to give you his best gift at home ;) (warnings included unprotected p in v, the usual shebang.)

you had to ask joe THREE TIMES if the party you were meant to be attending for christmas was playing white elephant or secret santa

he assured you it was secret santa but you were confused because you didn’t know who you’d be shopping for

AND CHRISTMAS WAS ONLY A WEEK AWAY???

sure, they were his friends & yours… but a little extra time might’ve been nice…

although, gift giving was one of your outward love languages

FINALLLY you met up with everyone and drew names

but now you only had FOUR DAYS to shop ?? FOUR. ??

alright. you’ve got this though, right??

luckily you got one of your closest friends, so buying for her would be a piece of cake

OR SO YOU THOUGHT

now of course, so close to the holiday… every storE WAS PACKED

but you were on a mission

you knew your girl like the back of your hand sO

this was gonna be easy

at the first store you visited you got her a candle, palo santo and orange scented

cuz she needed cleansing energy in her life rn

at the second store you grabbed her some comfy socks, a thick knitted blanket, and some cute sparkly pink lipgloss

you had to REALLY TRY not to go overboard

the last few things you got her were

2 new books, a new travel mug, some packets of hot chocolate, and FINALLY

a dainty silver paperclip bracelet

you fixed it all up in a basket and you were SO EXCITED to give it to her at the party

the only thing bothering you now was

you didn’t know who joe got

and he WOULD NOT tell you

and you couldn’t find anything around the house

OR IN HIS CAR

and you were afraid that 1. he wasn’t getting anyone anything

or 2. HE GOT YOU and he was being super sneaky

it bothered you for DAYS

literally up until the party

because here you and joe are, headed to the party, your gift is loaded up and

joe has nothing

he didn’t bring a SINGLE thing with him

you tried to play it cool, you knew he was watching you squirm over it

whatever. it’s okay. right?? RIGHT??

anyways. you made it to the party and joe came around the car to let you out like the gentleman he is

“you look beautiful, baby.” he says, kissing your cheek

and you’re like THAT’S RICH

cuz on top of him apparently not having a present

he also hasn’t BEEN PRESENT really all week

not in a bad way… just a little distant. there’s a lot going on but… you just missed him

you thanked him softly and he grabbed your gift, heading in to the party

inside it was decorated so beautifully from top to bottom, you were in awe of what your friends had put together

you placed your gift in the designated area and then eagerly jumped into the festivities

joe started talking to the guys as you and the girls finished plating food and decorating baked goods

you all ate and then played a few games, you were happy the party was pretty low-key

and then FINALLY

it was time for the secret santa reveal

you watched everyone with joy as they all loved their gifts and you were even MORE ecstatic when your bestie opened hers

she gave you the worlds BIGGEST HUG and peck on the cheek when she thanked you

but

there was one problem

you didn’t get a gift

i mean it tracks right??? if joe got you then

maybe he was waiting? because he’s your boyfriend so like. he got you gifts anyways

you searched the room until you found his eyes, locking yours with his

he cocked his head, nodding over his right shoulder in a “come on, let’s go” gesture

you excused yourself from your friends and met him by the doorway

he led you to the kitchen and out the sliding glass doors

the backyard was decorated beautifully as well, fairy lights hung from the tiny gazebo and the patio even had a miniature christmas tree

joe closed the door behind you and you hugged yourself in your sweater as the cold air bit at you

he was sTARING you down

“you okay, joe?” you question, watching as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth

“i’m okay. are you?”

you nod your head yes but - you know joe knows you better than anyone

“are you upset? obviously you know by now i was your secret santa.” he says, taking a step toward you

his gaze on you was soft, but still commanding

your knees were weAK

“yeah, but it’s okay joey. i mean, i figured you already had gifts for me or something so… i’m not worried about it.”

but you were lying

AND HE KNEW IT

because really you just wanted to open gifts with all your friends

and you knew joe wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you on purpose but

it was kinda giving you fomo and that sucked the most

joe took another step toward you, his hand reaching out to caress the back of your arm

“do you think i’m a jerk?” he asks, smiling softly

“no, of course not!” you tell him. you were a little sad but

nothing detrimental

“i have a gift for you.”

your eyes widen at his confession and the gap between you is finally closed as he takes the last step toward you

and then he kiSSES YOU

oh shIT

joe pulls away slowly and tells you to close your eyes

when he tells you to open them—

he’s. on his knee

in front of you

oh fuck is he—

OH FUCK IS HE????

“y/n, since i met you, my life has changed for the better in so many ways. i couldn’t ask for someone better in my corner, and i wouldn’t want anyone else to be there for me in the hard moments. you’ve sacrificed so much for me and for this relationship and for that i can never truly repay you.”

yOU’RE CRYING

FULL ON UGLY CRY

“there’s nobody on this planet i’d rather spend the rest of my life with and i don’t wanna waste another second. will you marry me?”

WILL YOU!?

OF COURSE YOU WILL OF COURSE YOU WILL OF COURSE YOU WILL

wait use your words .. hE can’t read your mind

choking back a sob you answer him… “yes, joe. i’ll marry you. i can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives.”

meanwhile you’re full on sobbing and sniffling while speaking to him

joe slips the beautiful ring on your finger before kissing it

he stands and pulls you into a tight hug and oH

is… is he crying too? a lil?

you both pull back slightly so you can see each others faces and you both wipe your tears away before sharing a sweet kiss

“we should go back in for a sec.” joe says

but you’re… SUSPICIOUS

and for good reason apparently

when you get back in EVERYONE CHEERS

THEY’RE POPPING CHAMPAGNE

and you’re crying again because joe did such a great job planning this and WOW

everyone hugs you and wishes you love and happiness and

you are OVERWHELMED??? in a good way

joe grabs his gift that he received before coming over to you and getting your attention

he leans down and whispers in your ear, “let’s leave a lil early. i have one more surprise at home.”

and SMIRKS

oh you know what the surprise is

you say your goodbyes to everyone and practically RUN to the car, buckling up and waiting eagerly for joe to get in and take you home

you and joe are both so giddy in the car, you can’t stop bouncing your leg

he reaches over and grabs your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze

at the stoplight he leans over and kisses you tenderly

and you’re like joE FLOOR IT I NEED YOU

when you get home you aren’t sure if the car or garage are locked or anything and you don’T CARE

as soon as you’re inside joe’s mouth is on yours, your back is pressed to the wall

you can’t take your hands or mouths off each other

he trails open mouthed kisses down your neck and over your collarbones as he pulls your sweater off

then he unclasps your bra, leaving your chest exposed to his mouths teasing attack

you start taking his shirt off as well, scratching your nails over his shoulder blades as his mouth continues to roam over your body

his lips find yours again soon and tHEN

SUDDENLY

you’re being carried to the bedroom and tOSSED onto the bed

joe quickly undresses himself, his cock springing up against his stomach immediately

he then pulls your pants and panties off in one quick motion before crawling on the bed over you

you’re soaked at this point, you need him so bad

he slides his hand between your legs and uses the pads of his fingers to spread your wetness around

“this all for me?” he asks, pulling his hand away and admiring how your slick glistens on his fingers

“yes, joe, fuck.” you mutter, ready for him to fill you

luckily tonight isn’t about teasing or dragging it out

the pure unadulterated need between you both already has you panting as joe strokes himself a few times before finally spreading your legs more and entering you

you’d think by now you’d be used to the size but —

after a few seconds of adjusting he slowly pulls back before thrusting back in

so. tantalizingly. slowly.

you can see his plan is to completely unravel you

iT’S WORKING

your nails scratch at his head and his lips find yours again

you make no attempt to cover your moans as joe continues to fuck into you slowly

he’s moaning too, the hand that isn’t holding him up is roaming the expanse of your exposed skin

the calloused pads of his fingers explore your skin and every brush over your sensitive areas causes you chills

his name falls from your lips like a mantra

all you know is joe, all you ever want to know is joe

he’s moaning your name too, blissed out expressions take over his features

you know you aren’t far from your orgasm, you can feel it sparking over over your skin, the pleasure rolls off you in waves

“joe… i’m—“ you warn, but he knows

“me too.”

you come at the same time. gasps and moans and the sounds of your breathing fill the room as your orgasm rolls over your body

it feels like an ocean wave the way it sucks you under, like tide is throwing you around

pleasure overrides all your senses in the best way

“you with me, baby?” joe asks, concerned eyes raking over your features

“i’m here.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss

he pulls out of you and rolls over, pulling your body into his

“that was amazing, you’re amazing. that you for today.” you tell him, burying your head into his chest

“you’re amazing, baby.” he assures, kissing your forehead gently

“i can’t wait to make you mrs. burrow.”

all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori

[romanhughesy]

GRAVITY - andrei svechnikov x fem!reader

summary: you meet in spring. andrei is confident, easy-going. deeply casual. summer’s long, but you’re around again when andrei comes back in the fall and ‘casual’ shifts into something fonder, something taking shape around the edges. a mid-season injury brings things to a breaking point, but the longest night only comes once a year.

wc: 3k

warnings: suggestive (like pg13), angsty?, emotionally unavailable!reader<3

a/n: im so sorry it’s late, but this is my fic for @wyattjohnston’s winter fic exchange, written for @sydnikov !! i LOVE your writing and was so inspired by your preferred tropes/figure skating background, so i hope you love it!! ive never wrote anything quite like this before, so feedback is 10000% encouraged bc this is also my first fic in awhile :’) title is from ‘gravity’ by my queen tinashe, that song and her other song ‘cross that line’ PERFECTLY describe the relationship i was trying to capture here.

-

somewhere along the way– far too late– it becomes apparent you and andrei misunderstood each other. maybe even from the very first moment.

on an unseasonably humid early spring night, in a dark gritty bar with shitty lighting and shittier beer, a spark ignited between the both of you. he approached you, half-drunk and put up to it by the rowdy teammates commandeering a booth with a great view of the bar. of you and your friends. he offered to buy a round of shots for everyone– if your friends would take them back to the booth and leave the two of you at the bar. your girls, who absolutely did not need anymore shots, practically ran across the bar with the tray; not before elbowing you and patting your shoulder, of course. maybe one hockey player could fly under the radar, but certainly not this one, and the table full that were now hosting your friends were the talk of the little bar. even some of the other girls nearby looked at you enviously; like you’d been chosen, or won some sort of prize. it was an unpleasant kind of feeling that you tried to shove aside in favor of easy, tipsy conversation. after talking around the elephant in the room for a minute, the liquid courage helped you decide to name it. you praised his performance in their game earlier that evening. months later, you can still remember how his smile took over his face, wide and prideful.

“thank you, pretty,” he slurred, shuffling a bit closer, “i can teach you how to skate good like me.”

you also remember your own prideful scoff, rolling your eyes on pure instinct. that unpleasant feeling sharpened. “i could carve you up, svech.”

his jaw dropped, the disbelief seeming more honest than his boastful smile, somehow. “you play? you are… small.”

“i’m a figure skater. i coach, too. maybe i should teach you to skate better.”

andrei’s wolfish smile came back in full force then, large hand draping over yours on the sticky bar. “perfect figure skater– pretty and small. i’m sure you skate well, but not like me.”

he raised his drink to signal the bartender, but you slid your hand from underneath the bar to rest on top of his and tapped the back of his palm lightly, stealing his attention with a head tilt.

“should we go and check out each other’s skills?”

one night set the stage for a loose kind of routine, spring nights slipping away in the back of seedy bars, in andrei’s bland luxury apartment; bodies coming to an understanding on rumpled grey sheets in his california king bed. your friends wouldn’t shut up about him, but you insisted there was nothing to tell. and there wasn’t. neither of your lives had room for anything more than what you already had. when he was gone, or just not around, your life passed by more or less the same as when he was there. you weren’t going through the motions to pretend there was anyone else, to him or to your friends, but you knew where you stood. and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. what you and andrei had was good, easy. you didn’t want a boyfriend anyway, so why would you complain about a steady hookup who wasn’t getting attached?

as the days got warmer, the nights got shorter, and andrei’s games became more meaningful. he slipped away— as much as you can really slip away when you aren’t being held at all. he more or less disappeared from your life once their second playoff series went south, and you refused to give chase.

-

summer was a blur. long days full of early morning practice, the smell of the ice invigorating your senses and bringing relief from the oppressive heat. it was a year too hot to be outdoors much, so you holed up, binging reality tv and redecorating your bedroom. your friends brought you out of your shell every now and then with a couple of weekend beach trips and many more coerced nights out. they’d switched from seedy sports bars to cocktail lounges, or dance clubs, and were good enough to not mention why, at least to your face. things felt simpler this way, dancing into the night with a rotating cast of strangers and cutting out early with the excuse of your sunrise rink time. you started landing a new trick, and even the heat couldn’t dull your mood about that.

seemingly in the blink of an eye, the dog days of summer had passed, and banners started cropping up around downtown boasting the shiny newcomers and fan favorites returning to town for training camp. you saw andrei’s face on the house-sized poster hanging on the outside of the arena and pretended to yourself that you’d never met him, because, really, what else were you supposed to do? go back to that same bar, with your same friends, and pretend you knew him at all?

-

well, you did do that– not of your own volition, to be sure– and he was there, because of course he was. you saw him the second you walked in, tall, broad and smiling, just like you remembered. you pointedly looked away, sharp eyes almost daring your friends to say something, but they didn’t have to.

you were fumbling through your purse to pay for your drink when he approached from behind, resting his hand on the bar. your bodies weren’t quite touching, but you were enveloped by his stature.

“you can put all of their drinks on my tab,” you could almost feel the vibrations of his deep voice through your chest. your friends raised their eyebrows, but said nothing, taking their drinks and deserting the bar. that deja vu, memory-on-the-tip-of-your-tongue feeling washed over you, heightened by his next words.

“how was your summer, pretty girl? mine was long, without seeing you.”

you sidestepped his hold to be able to look up at him, to take his features in for the first time in awhile. in person, that is. there was a boyishness, an almost clumsiness, about him like this that never came across in his media. you tried not to let it persuade you.

“i landed my axel for the first time.” you answered, not bothering to address his flattery.

“triple?” andrei asked, eyebrows raised.

you rolled your eyes. “i’m an amateur, andrei. not all professionals can land a triple.”

his eyes flashed, that challenging look that always dragged you in, “i’m a professional. i bet i could. i do lots of hard things.”

“i doubt you could even stand on figure skates, much less jump.”

he tilted his head, and you felt pulled back in time, “can i show you my skill?”

“andrei…” you tried to pull your gaze away from him, but he grabbed your hand, gentle as can be, and you locked eyes with him again.

“please, pretty girl. i missed you.”

looking back, you still aren’t sure what you thought he’d say, but it wasn’t that. the shock stirred up some of the unpleasant feelings of the past few months, the severed connection that was barely tangible to begin with. you lightly scoffed, “yeah, right.”

“i did. i’m glad to be back, to see you tonight. let me show you.”

what else could you say to that?

so you let andrei take you home, and tried to tell yourself you were just imagining the difference in his behavior, projecting softness, maybe even fondness, where there was only lust. tried to explain away his gentle hands on your cheeks, your hips, his quiet praise and adoration. you slept over, that night, and tried to turn a blind eye again in the morning. and again a few days later.

as fall crept in, the two of you start texting more often, meaningless chatter and jokes, and began foregoing the pretense of having to go out to the bars to “coincidentally” meet up. he’d ask to pick you up after leaving the stadium most nights he was in town, and more often than not you’d stay over. andrei didn’t seem to mind that you were often gone before he woke up; flying across the ice to try and leave your emotions behind, heart crawling a little further up into your throat every day. you knew it was unnatural, yet you couldn’t help but try to build your walls a little higher with every step you took forward towards something different with andrei. you just couldn’t help but feel like letting your guard down would be a fatal mistake.

his time on the road helped, in a lot of ways. it gave you a sense of normalcy, you went out with your friends and didn’t look over your shoulder. you could give andrei a bit of a cold shoulder over text and pretend he was the busy one, the one not responding. until he came back to town and kissed you breathless in his sports car, taking off your jacket with his big but deft hands and mumbling into your neck about missing you while he was gone.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like him— certainly not that— but it was hard to feel like you stood on solid ground when his life moved at such a fast pace. he never intentionally made you feel small, but his world, spanning millions of miles and millions more dollars, was dizzying, and so entirely divorced from whatever you two had that you still felt as though you didn’t know him, really, even though you held all of these small pieces of him close to your heart. you felt constantly at a loss, not sure how to best express yourself in any given moment, caught between honesty and protecting your feelings, unsure how to do both at once. the leaves turned, then fell, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were also waiting for the other shoe to drop.

andrei, apparently, had none of the same hangups. he was simple, straightforward and never shy to go after what he wanted. his interest was more than clear, but you could never bring yourself to ask just how far it went. he never asked you to go to dinner, or one of his games, and even though you guys weren’t just hooking up, in fact there were a couple of hangouts late fall without having sex at all, you couldn’t find any other name to call whatever you two were doing. so you stopped trying.

-

somewhere around the first frost, things changed. andrei had his first injury of the season, having to sit out a short road trip, and you found yourself out of your depth with the version of andrei that reminded you of unpleasant early-summer heat. you didn’t know how to comfort him, scared to cling or insert yourself unnecessarily into his personal life, so you thought you should just mirror his attitude. maybe that’s what brought things down.

one late november night, you started shrugging back on your clothes after leaving the bathroom until andrei’s voice, thick with sleep, gave you a momentary pause.

“where are you going?”

you looked up at him, and immediately regretted it. his high, strong cheekbones were softened in the dim light, eyes dark and confused, but you refused to believe the furrow of his brow held any traces of disappointment

“home. i have an extra-early skate tomorrow.”

“you know you can stay here,” andrei assured in a low voice, but you just shook your head and sat at the edge of the bed to put your socks back on.

“it’s fine, andrei. it’s not that late.”

he sat up fully, then, long arm reaching across the bed to try and touch you, but you were too far away.

“what’s going on?” andrei asked, not letting you answer before another question sprung from his lips. “why are you not comfortable with me?”

you froze, looking up slowly but deliberately avoiding his eyes.

“it’s nothing. i’d just rather be at my place tonight.”

“it is something,” he insisted, voice still quiet, but more firm than you’d ever heard him speak to you. “you don’t want to be honest with me. why?”

“i’m being honest with you,” you argued, even though you knew it wasn’t true. “why are you upset? it doesn’t matter.”

“i like spending time with you. i’m alone, i’m hurt, and you make things better.”

it somehow stung, the sweet words only serving to remind you what he could say instead, what you wished he’d say.

“we spend plenty of time together, svech. i can’t put my plans aside for you just because you couldn’t travel with the team.”

you didn’t have to read a different emotion into his furrowed brow any longer, it was set in a very clear frustration, now.

“don’t say that, don’t call me that,” he insisted, “what did i do? why are you angry?”

you stood, at that, pulling your sweater over your head hastily. “i’m not angry. you’re the one making this a big deal.”

“you are leaving and trying to hurt my feelings. i am just trying to figure out why.” he rose from the bed, trying to catch your wrist as you went to button your jeans, but you took a step back.

“we already fucked, andrei. you had plenty of my ‘quality time’ for tonight. i’m leaving, now.”

he stepped into your space, shaking his head and grabbing both of your wrists, not forceful, but firm.

“this is not about sex, pretty. you know it’s not. why are you saying this?”

“well, that’s all we have. we’re not dating, i’m not your girlfriend, so you should call someone else if you need comfort.”

it was his turn to take a step back, then. dropping your wrists, hurt clear as day across his face.

“that is not true. we cook together, work out together, watch movies together, talk on the phone while i am gone. is it all just about sex, to you?”

your insides twisted, hurt and anger shifting into a kind of guilt, a panic. you’d been so painstakingly, yet fruitlessly, trying to protect your own heart, trying to push yourself away. blind to the fact that the whole time, he was reaching out to you.

“i… didn’t want to ask for something you couldn’t give,” you hedged, eyes down and picking at your nail beds.

andrei shook his head again, but his expression softened, closing the gap between you.

“i have been trying to date you since i came back, beautiful. but you have been hiding from me, even when you’re this close. i’ve been waiting on you.”

you stared up at him, eyes wide, hands dwarfed in his grasp. you couldn’t even begin to find the right words to say.

“let me show you, gorgeous,” he continued, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek. “let me cherish you how you deserve.”

“andrei…” you breathe. he bends down, captures your lips in a kiss so tender it makes tears well up in your eyes.

“it’s okay, pretty. we’re okay.” he kept mumbling assurances to you in between soft kisses all over your face, across your jaw and down your neck. you couldn’t contain your sigh as his faint stubble brushed against your neck, hands finding a gentle perch on his broad back. andrei pulled back the slightest bit, soft smile and mischievous eyes making your heart flutter.

“can i show you, my darling? or do you need to go home?” he teased, hands absentmindedly trailing up and down your sides.

“please, drei,” you plead, hand stretching up to the back of his neck to pull him back down to you. andrei doesn’t move a muscle, his own strength so much greater than yours, but you couldn’t complain because you got to watch his soft smile grow, eyes alight like he just scored the greatest goal of his career. he lifted you with seemingly no effort at all, laying you back down on his grey sheets, hovering above you, bicep bulging next to your head. it was distracting, but you couldn’t look away from those gorgeous eyes, locked on yours.

“can i come to the rink with you in the morning? want to finally see how my pretty girl skates. probably puts me to shame.”

you were pulled from your daze at that, searching his face and finding nothing but openness, happiness, satisfaction. but you still can’t help but ask, “are you sure? it’s an open skate. people will see.”

“see you ‘carve me up’?” andrei joked, caressing your face. that spring night felt so far away, a version of you that could never conceive of where you would end up. “i don’t care. just want to see you.”

you couldn’t hide the shock on your face. the pit in your stomach hadn’t exactly subsided, the heaviness of wasted time and self-admonishment lingering, but you tried to push it aside, letting yourself reveal a gap in the armor you’d woven so tightly around your heart. you wouldn’t be able to just let yourself fall overnight, but you could do this. you could give him an opening, a glimmer of warm sunshine on a cold winter’s night.

“sure, but we’ll need to go to bed soon. it really is extra early,” you conceded, hand raising to brush some of his hair back from his forehead.

his sweet smile turned that wolfish, boastful grin you knew too well, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“soon? maybe not, pretty girl. i have been waiting for this. might take awhile. but don’t worry, i know great stretches for sore muscles we can try in the morning, too.”

and, well, what else could you say to that?

———

[pocketseizure]

For someone who loves old Nintendo games and enjoys the comfort and convenience of an affordable handheld system, a Steam Deck running Emudeck is a godsend. Best of all, you don't have to join a Discord server for help; even a monkey (like me) can figure it out.

There's been a bit of discourse surrounding the Switch 2, especially regarding the price of the system and its games. Two additional issues include: (a) you can't own a game on this console, even if you buy a physical cartridge; and (b) you can only access a larger library of older games through a subscription service.

There's also the giant elephant in the room, which is that the general level of consumer income hasn't increased along with inflation. This makes the choice to buy a Switch 2 more financially painful than it needs to be, especially since Nintendo prides itself on providing "accessible" consoles and games.

No one asked, but my recommendation for anyone who's looking for an upgrade to the Switch but feels dubious about its successor is to get a Steam Deck, which is essentially a gaming PC in handheld form. The cheapest model is perfectly fine and plays contemporary AAA titles like Elden Ring and FFVII Rebirth with no problems at all.

Another selling point of the Steam Deck is that it runs Emudeck, which makes it easy to play an archived library of games for older systems ranging from the Game Boy to the Wii. Emulators for more recent systems (like the Wii U) may take a bit of extra effort, but there are plenty of easily accessible tutorials on YouTube and Reddit.

Thankfully, once you get everything running, Emudeck takes care of itself and lets you access your games through the main Steam Deck interface. It's surprisingly easy, even if you're bad with tech.

Setting up Emudeck can also serve as a good introduction to figuring out how to navigate the console's Linux desktop. What this means is that you'll be able to download and play interesting super-indie games from platforms like Itch.io. Many of these games are never published for an actual licensed gaming console; and, if they are, you can directly support the creators by circumventing storefronts.

Gaming PCs are expensive and not feasible for everyone. Meanwhile, handheld consoles are great for people with limited space, students who move a lot, and people who prefer "work" and "play" to be on separate screens. If you're interested in preserving your archive of games while enjoying them too, running Emudeck on Steam Deck is an easy and accessible solution that's worked well for me.

[shilohsylvanian]

Elephant baby brother Hilton Bubblebrook

Source

[cute-little-fly]

You know you have to wonder what was goi g through Blitzøs head when the Karen client showed up. He brought Stolas to the office that day to try and get his mind off everything that happened and this b word shows up and is the living embodiment of everything that’s happened.

Hello!!!

Sorry that has been taken me so long to come back to answering asks… I have been procrastinating them.

Oh!! I bet he was very distressed and regretting a little bit taking Stolas to office precisely that day… The most triggering thing possible happened… That’s bad luck!

Also, it was the first call Stolas took. Stolas made a mistake of telling her to come immediately which Blitzø didn’t point out to Stolas, because he didn’t want Stolas to feel bad on his first day. He saw Stolas struggling and offered his support.

I think he wanted Stolas to go out and feel fulfillment by being able of do something. Maybe just… take out his mind from his own thoughts too.

But it went completely opposite for Stolas. He was confronted with the other side of what he did. (We know that this Karen it’s not exactly the same as Stella… but her ex husband was now with another man, so… she directly assessed the elephant in the room and Stolas felt directly called out).

Blitzø initially wasn’t buying what the Karen said, and disapproved what she said.

But when he saw it was affecting Stolas he started to feel immediately bad; because the situation was going out of hand. He was able to keep Stolas from thinking those sort of things and suddenly, someone just started to spit everything out. Someone just confronted Stolas with the situation he was just starting to process.

He was super distressed about Stolas right there, when he realized he was getting really affected.

Additionally, I don’t know if other people feel like this but… I feel that Blitzø also was feeling a degree of embarrassment though, Blitzø also felt called out. He clearly feels a little bit of akwardness and uncomfortable towards the situation. But, contrary to Stolas I don’t think Blitzø believes that Stolas did wrong by looking for his happiness. Less now, that he knows he had real feelings towards him. Genuine feelings for other person and wanting that it’s just… not bad.

So, in that moment he mostly tried to water down the situation to avoid Stolas feeling triggered, but at the end he gave up. There was no point, that Karen client wouldn’t let go the situation and there was no way she would frame the situation as less…

Poor Blitzø, he tried to water down the conversation and diminish the framing of the situation. But it wasn’t working at all… I love the last face he makes, when the last bit of composure he has in front of the situation vanishes into oblivion.

Then, he recovers his composure again, and he tries to reject the hit. It’s easy to see why even if they usually don’t care about what they are doing and they don’t take responsibility for that. The situation was making Stolas feel a high degree of distress, so he wouldn’t do anything that made him feel wrong for wanting to have that and for what they had, even if it wasn’t the best.

(I love this small moment when Blitzø tries to deny the job and Moxxie gets surprised in a good way).

But… surprisingly Stolas insisted. He is surprised to see Stolas insisting and he tries to comfort him and telling him that’s not true. I think for this moment he sees the situation as insalvable.

In this moment… maybe I wish Blitzø would have insisted on it a little more. But… with how Stolas mindset was and since the Karen was present there I understand why he thought it might have been worse.

I find interesting that he went along with it even if he initially didn’t wanted to because Stolas was the one to insist. Probably, he didn’t want Stolas to feel guilty of ruining a possible hit for them, and at first he thought about rejecting it because of how it was affecting Stolas.

But… at the end… he saw that he was also affected and he couldn’t bring himself up to ruin what he wanted the most. I feel that he was thinking so much about Stolas there that he didn’t realized the situation hit hard for him too.

What makes me a little sad about this scene, is that here Stolas genuinely believes he was selfish, and that he doesn’t deserve happiness beyond his daughter and family. Like, in reality he was selfish, but, sometimes you gotta get a little selfish you know? Pour a drink to your own cup once in a while, and not just to other people cups.

It’s not bad that parents wish to have a life in their own too… How many woman and queer people have to sacrifice their lives for others where they would be better parents and family members if they were allowed to be happy?

I guess I got myself extra philosophical and emotional about this but… well, I wanted to comment something more beyond oh yes!!

[themanicnami]

💖Witchcraft Correspondence: Love💖

Love is one of the parts of life humans chase after in many ways. Not just in ways of romantic desire and sexual interactions but the love of family, friends and love of oneself. It is a common topic when it comes to magic and divination so with that - may this be an easy reference for all of you looking to incorporate love of any kind into your craft. Please note: this isn't every possible correspondence out there - this is more a quick reference guide. Happy witching~

💖Herbs for Love: Anise, Basil, Bay, Catnip, Chamomile, Cinnamon, Coriander/Cilantro, Clove, Damiana, Dill, Fennel, Ginger, Hawthorne, Hibiscus, Jasmine, Lavender, Lemon Balm, Meadowsweet, Myrrh, Parsley, Rose, Rose Hip, Rosemary, Saffron, Sage, Spearmint, Thyme, Vanilla, Valerian, Yarrow

💖 Flowers for Love: Aster, Baby's-Breath, Bleeding Heart, Carnation, Cherry Blossom, Daffodil, Geranium, Hyacinth, Iris, Jasmine, Lavender, Lilac, Orchid, Rose, Sunflower, Tulip

💖 Fruit for Love: Apple, Apricot, Avocado, Banana, Cherry, Cranberry, Fig, Guava, Lemon, Lime, Mango, Nectarine, Orange, Papaya, Passion Fruit, Pomegranate, Peach, Pear, Plum, Raspberry, Strawberry

💖 Vegetables for Love: Artichoke, Asparagus, Beet, Carrot, Celery, Cucumber, Endive, Leek, Lettuce, Onion, Peas, Pumpkin, Radish, Sweet Pea, Tomato, Zucchini

💖 Foods for Love: Chocolate, Pistachio, Rye Bread, Sugar (sweets), Wine

💖 Crystals for Love: Agate, Amber, Amethyst, Aquamarine, Carnelian, Emerald, Garnet, Green Aventurine, Kunzite, Lapis Lazuli, Malachite, Moonstone, Obsidian, Onyx, Pink Topaz, Pink Tourmaline, Pink Quartz (dyed), Rhodochrosite, Rhodonite, Tiger's Eye, Rose Quartz, Ruby

💖 Oils for Love: Anise, Basil, Bay, Birch, Cardamom, Clove, Ginger, Grapefruit, Jasmine, Juniper, Lemongrass, Lemon, Lime, Marjoram, Mints, Myrrh, Rose, Rosemary, Vanilla

💖 Incense/Scents for Love: Amber, Bamboo, Catnip, Cedarwood, Chamomile, Cinnamon, Dragon's Blood, Ginger, Jasmine, Lavender, Patchouli, Rose, Rosewood, Sandalwood, Vanilla, Ylang-ylang

💖 Colors for Love: Pink, Red, White, Orange, Purple, Gold, Silver

💖 Moon Phase for Love: New Moon, Waxing, Full Moon

💖 Day of Week for Love: Friday

💖 Elements for Love: Fire, Water

💖 Zodiac for Love Virgo, Taurus, Cancer, Leo, Gemini, Pisces

💖 Planets for Love: Venus, Moon

💖 Animals for Love: Beaver, Butterfly, Cow, Crane, Dolphin, Dove, Elephant, Flamingo, Hare, Horse, Ladybug, Lion, Lovebird, Owl, Penguin, Starfish, Swan

~~~~~

Like what I post? Want to support me or buy me a delicious coffee? Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi Page!

[ralphlanyon]

Piquet was their game. The cards flew fast, shuffled, cut, and dealt again: they had played together so long that each knew the other’s style through and through. Jack’s was a cunning alternation of risking everything for the triumphant point of eight, and of a steady, orthodox defence, fighting for every last trick. Stephen’s was based upon Hoyle, Laplace, the theory of probabilities, and his knowledge of Jack’s character.

However, the rain stopped while they were eating their dinner at the Bleeding Heart, their half-​way point, a cheerful sun came out, and they saw the first swallow of the year, a blue curve skimming over the horse-​pond at Edenbridge. Long before they walked into Thacker’s, the naval coffeehouse, they were far back in their old easy ways, talking without the least constraint about the sea, the service, the possibility of migrant birds navigating by the stars at night, of an Italian violin that Jack was tempted to buy, and of the renewal of teeth in elephants.

your honor they are married

[elvestoneanzelote1]

I just come up with a great idea and I like it so much smh 😭

Can you do a yandere Atsushi and yandere Dazai (separately) with a reader who really have low self-esteem? It's so low to the point that even if you call them a b-word, degrading them and they would go "Oh thank you so much for wasting your time on taking care of sth like me!" with a happy face.

Surprisingly, the reader also know about that and used it to their advantage, would even victimized themselves just to get what they want.

They would be very caring towards Atsushi and manipulate (bribe, promise, not breaking his mind even more) him into doing what they want without question asked (not like he would anyway) but with Dazai, they would like to see how pathetic he is for wanting their affection, knowing they are the only one could make him gets on his knees and begs that he would be a good pet for them.

Yea, the reader can be a low self-esteem person but also can be a meanie if they want to, but only to their yanderes tho (especially those who that are hard to break like Dazai, Mori, Ranpo,... With those who are easy to break, they would just manipulate them and giving loves)

I want to see this type of reader sometimes but there aren't many, you're my last hope for my fantasy! 😭

This is my first time requesting this so I'm so nervous omg 💀

Oh and, you can call me Ry.

𝙰:𝚗- 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚁𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

𝙴𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝.

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎: 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒, 𝙰𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚊.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚐𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚈/𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖.

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𝘋𝘢𝘻𝘢𝘪 𝘖𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶.

The only reason how even does Dazai find you appealing is a question itself. Don't get him wrong he love you a lot but.

Your low self esteems and often shyness and couldn't even take a single insult make him wonder why he choose to be with you.

You are indeed a kind women who listen to him and indeed you were there with him when he quit Port Mafia.

He met you during his stay in underground.

Perhaps fate.

But he is still cautious of his words approaching you was an attempt.

A very hard attempt.

As you often be surrounded by people.

But one time he realise his mistake when he got angry at you.

As you mistakenly tied his bandages in wrong shape.

He won't be mad at you for silly reason but he was as his mood was already ruin by the people.

Your eyes were watery as you gaze to the ground avoiding to stare at him.

"I guess you are... Right I am a failure.. A b*tch" you muttered walking away with drag feet.

As much as he was angry he doesn't want you to leave him.

Your the only company he tolerates and somehow you care for him. Maybe you care for the others too.

He was the one who used two years of his and yours to lurred you to follow him.

Yes you are indeed a professional at finding and erasing people records. And no it wasn't your ability but purely skill.

I guess that's also a reason he feel connected to you.

He pampered you with hugs which you never ask but you comply so that you can get what you want.

He buy things for you... Well Kunikida money was at stake too.

He buy the new bag you often shyly mentions.

He knew somehow you want him to comply on your wishes which is why he call you.

"A cheeky chipmunk with greed like an elephant"

You negatively took it.

Yet he didn't bother to console you and only said it was the truth.

Somehow with his sarcasm you eventually somehow got used to it somehow.

But... He is seriously protective of you. Especially as you do not have an ability he prefer you to be on sideline.

He does get jealous when Ranpo and you talk to each other more.

Both of you were a sweet fan

And Ranpo fondness towards you for having no ability but pure skill make him praise you.

Dazai is the one drag you away from Ranpo who often get confused of why yet Yosano mention jealousy which Ranpo was more confused.

Dazai will make sure you spend less time with the others and only focus on him in exchange of your sly demands on things.

He cannot make you leave him right? Of course if you does so... He will make sure the same imply to you that... You only rely on him and only him.

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𝘕𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘫𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘈𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪.

At first he really admired you from afar.

You the lady who eventually gave him a bread when he was starving on the outside world.

Your gently smile and kindness make him fall for you as he met you again during the Agency time.

You recognise him, oh how happy he was.

He blindly ignore you trying to get information from him about the agency.

He smile at you making you annoyed but you were patient to fulfil your mission and the thought to end him often linger onto you.

As money problem is the reason why you even work for the other group.

But when they insulted you for been weakass and couldn't take out a single useful info about agency. Unaware Atsushi stalk you so that you will be safe that day.

But his anger boil when he saw you cry.

"Repeat it! You are a whore who cannot do anything! Right"

"...I am a who-" before you uttered that word right in your eyes in split seconds the senior of yours was cut to half.

There stay a full transformed tiger as you fall on your kness afraid.

Yet the tiger ate those people as the whole group was eaten only some blood splattered on the floor most were droplets of blood.

"D-dont kill me, I-I am just a-"

"Y/n" said the tiger as your eyes widen when it detransformed back to a human.

You feel yourself vomiting out as you realise Atsushi ate away your colleagues those who pay you.

The blood beside his lips make you back away in fear.

Before you beg for his mercy he hugged you dearly.

Then it click to your mind and you happily agreed to be with him as you would rather prefer a home then leave in streets pretending to be a noble women who is kind and give bread to others but eventually you are starving more then them

A grave mistake on your part even if he gave it all to you as much as he could.

You never able to leave his sight ever again.

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𝘒𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘢 𝘋𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰.

He couldn't even uttered a word to you. You often lose your cool.

You were a teacher like him, a substitute teacher whereas he teaches math you teaches English.

Your self esteem was so low that you came crying when the kids eventually throw papers at you and make fun of you.

He was the one who scared them all for you.

Now that he thinks about he misses you a lot.

But that thought vanish when he saw you out in a park.

People were shock as the guy slapped you across your face.

As tears fall from your eyes as you gripped your bag tightly.

"What a moron can't even bear a single slap" said the other women as the guy cooed at his women while you were a victim of embarrassment.

"What's going on?" Asked Kunikida who approach the scene as The other women point a finger on you.

"She was begging my boyfriend to be hers! Even if she knew I was his girlfriend"

As people muttered how disgusting you were to eyed another man as Kunikida let out a sighed and slapped the women like how the man slapped you.

Your eyes widen as you finally look up to see Kunikida and the man anger.

"How dare you hurt my girlfriend!?"

"These lady here is the side women who stole y/n the victim here boyfriend more likely they both used her. She was a good friend of this women who seduced the boyfriend a vile women"

"I'm not! What proofed-"

Kunikida simply played a voice recorder where they mention about the money you gave to your boyfriend for his business.

Kind you were only to help your boyfriend.

He eventually arrest them both for manipulating you and taking your money.

People gasped in shock as they eventually start pointing the other two for such audacity to victimised a victim as the fault.

Kunikida approach you with the money.

"Here... You alright y/n?"

"Y-yeah thank you..." You said as you gently smile a bit.

He was worried as you were in questioning term how he knows about you and the whole affair thing.

And when did he record it. (Thanks to Katai).

He have been looking out for you some weeks now.

"Thanks again... Umm..."

He was disappointed by your confused face.

"Kunikida Doppo"

"Ah! The colleague!"

"Y-yeah" he muttered as he blush away by your happy smiled.

He couldn't help but feel happy to meet you again.

All this time he realise you were indeed an ideal match for him.

But sometimes he is concern of your low self-esteem as you often kick out of job because of that.

"Live in with me then"

"Huh?"

"I know it is not idealistic but... I want you to live with me I will take care of money as you can work at my apartment that way no worries for money and rent as you can repay-"

You hugged him happily in joy. Oh how glad you were to bring it up.

Kunikida couldn't help but be flustered.

But you knew you couldn't get what you want on things of sort after all... Kunikida will and make you an ideal women of his.

Despite you trying to refuse but somehow you knew... Instead of you manipulating him he is the one gaslight you intot submission.

People assume you both as green flag perhaps you were but... The saying goes two red flags make it green.

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A:n- that is all good day/night to all!