#how to save money on holiday travel

[organic-bloodbath]

Can you write about kang Dae-ho x American reader, that Dae-ho has developed a big crush on the reader but he doesn't know how to respond to it because he's never been ina relationship before and everyone else in the group (except the reader) notices it and tease him about it?

Just admit you like me

Dae-ho x American!Reader

This applies to two different requests i got, the second one being:

"Can write about Dae-ho x American reader that Dae-ho having a crush on reader saves her in the mingle game and once it came down to two players, Dae-ho was able to have an opportunity to admit his feelings to the reader and share their first kiss?"

— Anon

Summary: As above. Dae-ho just being a nervous wreck around you.

A/N: i love this man sm. He's just a bit lost with his feelings here.

☆☆☆

You felt out of place. You were the only non-Asian player here and felt like everyone's eyes were on you whenever you weren't paying attention, though you might have been only imagining things.

You had arrived to Korea to spend your holidays here, you got two weeks off from college and needed to travel somewhere by yourself. Somewhere you couldn't possibly run into anyone you personally knew. Joining a game of life and death for money - a lot of money too - hadn't been on the list of things and places to experience during your stay in this country.

When the first person was shot to death, all you wanted to do was run away like so many other players, but you knew there was nowhere to escape. You felt your body shaking and it was a miracle your movements weren't noticed.

Suddenly, as you started running again, you tripped and lost your balance, falling backwards after some idiot pushed you - intentionally or not. For a second you were sure you were going to die, that was it, your part on the game ended before it had even properly started. Your family would report you as a missing person and would never get you back home or even know what happened to you.

Until you felt someone grab your body behind you. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you against their chest. The massive doll had turned to face you right at that same second, so you weren't able to stand up and take a better position. This person was fully in charge of holding you up and saving your life in process. The position you were in was extremely uncomfortable.

When you were allowed to move again, this person helped you to stand up again on your own, and you turned around to face him. Now in front of you stood a young man, looking down at you.

"Oh, thank you," you said quietly. "You saved me."

The doll turned around again, freezing you on your place, your head still turned towards the man's face. You had been too slow to react and continue the game.

"You're welcome," the man subtly said between his teeth, trying not to move his lips too much.

Before you started running again, he gave you a sweet smile. In only a few seconds he catched up with you and stayed right in front of you.

"Stay behind me," he said quietly, and you did as you were told.

You ran the rest of the game the same pace as him, not moving anywhere behind him. You were going to be screwed if he was going to be shot and you'd have to jump over his dead body.

But luckily, both of you made it to the end. After reaching the finish line, you walked to the guy who had catched you.

"Hi, um, thank you again," you said nervously. "Without you i'd be dead, i suppose."

"No big deal, glad to help," he smiled.

"I'm Y/N," you said and offered your arm for him to shake.

"Dae-ho," he said with a slight smile, taking your hand in his, which was much bigger than yours.

When he didn't figure out what more to say, you left him to stand there alone and went back inside.

That evening, Dae-ho wanted to approach and talk to you, but he was constantly overthinking what he would say to you. How did you start a conversation with a stranger? With a woman as gorgeous as you?

"Hi, how are you?"

"Good, thanks for asking."

"Okay, great. Bye."

Talking to men, he didn't care what he said to them and if it would mess up the conversation. To you, he would have wanted to make a good impression.

He didn't know what it was about you but when had saved your life during the game and you had turned to look at him and thank him, he was so taken aback by the sight of you for a second he had almost forgotten how to move.

☆☆☆

The next day arrived and you were given 10 minutes to prepare groups of five for the second game. You looked around the room, until your gaze landed on the group which Dae-ho was included.

"Hi, um, could i join your group?" you asked shyly, not knowing who you could rely on. The only person that had spoke to you by far, and helped too, was Dae-ho, and he felt like the safest option to choose. You looked at all three men at the same time, meaning the question to all of them.

"Of course, welcome," Gi-hun said smiling and motioned you to sit down next to him as you waited for the game to start.

You looked towards Dae-ho who only gave you a nod and an awkward smile. One more girl joined the group. She was apparently pregnant, but you all welcomed her with open arms.

When it was your group's turn to play, your feet were linked to each other, your left foot against Dae-ho's.

You rested your hand on Dae-ho's waist, your other hand on Gi-hun's back as well to keep your balance as the five of you started walking forward in total sync between the mini games.

You couldn't see it because you only kept your gaze forward, but every time you pressed your hand on Dae-ho's back, his cheeks turned a little red and his heart started beating faster. And when you let go, he instantly missed your touch.

When you had finished the entire game and could walk on your own again, all of you cheered in excitement for surviving another game. You hugged Gi-hun next to you and then wrapped your arms around Dae-ho, completely startling him.

"We made it," you smiled against his chest and let go.

You didn't think too much of it, you were a people hugger. The hug didn't last longer than couple of seconds, but Dae-ho would think about your touch on his skin until he fell asleep that night.

☆☆☆

"So," Gi-hun started as your group was eating the dinner together after the second game, "what's it like to live in America? Which state are you from?"

"I've been living in California for the past five years, though i was born in Michigan. I moved there for college and really like it there," you explained.

Gi-hun and Young-il asked bunch of questions about your studies, the differences you've noticed between the U.S. and Korea and so on. They told you about places which you must visit before you return to California and you had heard of none of them before, excited to go and see them. Gi-hun especially mentioned one diner you'd have to try.

Dae-ho sat next to you, barely saying anything during the conversation, just looking at you, smile on his face. Your voice was like music to his ears and he could have listened to you talking all day long until you were out of breath.

"Right, Dae-ho?" you asked, turning your face towards him, startling him out of his trance. He hadn't realised he had zoned out and not listened to you for the past couple of minutes.

"Huh?" he breathed out and straightened his back. "Yes, right, exactly."

He had no idea what you had said to him, but in panic he knew he should just agree whatever you were saying.

"See, the Marine guy agrees with me too," you said to Gi-hun and put your hand on Dae-ho's shoulder.

Dae-ho noticed Jun-hee holding her laugh but tried to ignore it. You paid it no attention. When you had turned your face away from Dae-ho, he gave Jun-hee an annoyed look to shut it.

"So, Y/N," Jun-hee started, taking care of the next route in the conversation, giving Dae-ho a subtle, but suggesting grin. "Are you in California by yourself or with someone?"

"Oh, i'm not alone," you said, making Dae-ho's heart drop for a second. "I live with my roommate, Sarah."

"That's nice," Jun-hee said slowly. "There's nobody else, hm, special in your life?"

"Not right now, if you don't count my dog," you chuckled.

Jun-hee winked at Dae-ho when you weren't watching.

Gi-hun and Young-il were talking together about something that didn't interest Dae-ho, and Jun-hee got up to go to the bathroom. That left you and Dae-ho alone, just the two of you for a moment.

"What do you plan to do with the money when we get out?" you asked. "Like, after you've payed off whatever debts you owe, of course."

Dae-ho tried to gather his words together and explained some of his plans to you.

"And you?" he asked.

"Well, i'm not sure yet," you said. "I know i want to travel a lot, maybe spend a year just exploring the world."

"That sounds fun," Dae-ho agreed. "I've always wanted to travel more."

"Maybe you could join me one day," you suggested, smiling.

"Oh, yea, maybe," Dae-ho said and turned his face away from you. He felt his cheeks becoming warmer.

☆☆☆

Next morning, you truly started to feel like Dae-ho was intentionally ignoring you. You had had that feeling ever since the day one. Almost every time you looked at him and your eyes connected for barely a second, he immediately turned his face away and avoided your gaze.

Jun-hee was walking towards the bathroom, but you managed to stop her and pull her to the side.

"Hey, can i ask you something?" you asked quietly, looking around you to see if anyone else would hear you, until turning back to her. "I don't know if i'm just imagining things but is Dae-ho mad at me or something?"

Jun-hee furrowed her eyebrows. "Why do you think that?"

"I don't know, he's seemed to avoid me and i feel like i've made him maybe upset."

"Oh don't worry, he's not mad at you," she chuckled.

You furrowed your brows, confused what might be the problem then. "What is it then? Do you know something?"

Jun-hee was about to say something but shut her mouth before any words were able to leave her lips. "You know, maybe you should just talk to him."

Then, she just hurried away, leaving you by yourself. That was odd.

☆☆☆

"So, Y/L's pretty, isn't she?" a man asked, suddenly appearing next to Dae-ho, startling him. It was player 124 smirking at him, elbows leaning on his knees as he sat down. He had never talked to Dae-ho before, so he was confused for a fair reason.

"What?" Dae-ho mumbled. "I mean, um, sure."

He looked towards you, feeling butterflies in his stomach when he heard your laugh all the way to the spot he was sitting at.

"Do you think i'd have chance with her?" the player 124 asked. "You two are friends, right? Could you ask her what her type is?"

"Her type?" Dae-ho's eyes widened and there was a pitch in his voice. He couldn't watch another man to flirt with you, there was no way.

"Yeah. Like what kind of guy she is into?"

"Well, i don't know. She hasn't talked to me about it," Dae-ho nervously shrugged.

"Okay, so," he started and put his arm around Dae-ho, "you go and ask her and come to speak to me again after the next game, yes?"

"Um, i don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, brother. Man to man. I'll owe you one," the player 124 winked and smacked Dae-ho's shoulder, then standing up.

When the guy, whose name Dae-ho wasn't sure of, had left, Dae-ho felt his heart burst. He couldn't watch another man make a move on you, it would absolutely kill him. Thankfully, the guy didn't rush immediately towards you, but to his own group which included Thanos, a few other guys and a girl. Dae-ho didn't know the girl's name, but why couldn't he try to hit on her instead, and not his Y/N?

His Y/N. You weren't exactly his either, but he didn't want to see you with anyone else except him. But of course that wouldn't happen if he didn't actually talk to you about it. He had started to feel possessive over you for no reason and he somehow managed to make himself mad without anyone else's effort.

Jun-hee was next to come and keep him company.

"So, she thinks you're mad at her," she said seriously.

"Mad? I'm not mad at her," Dae-ho insisted, confused, and straightened his back.

"Come on, you have to say something and stop avoiding her like that." Jun-hee took in a deep, frustrated breath when Dae-ho didn't know what to answer. "Why is it so hard to just be yourself around her?" Jun-hee asked, clearly frustrated with his attitude and behavior.

"I just," Dae-ho started but didn't find the words. "I don't know."

"Anyone with eyes can see that she's gorgeous and if you don't act soon, she's gonna be off the market."

With that said, Jun-hee got up and left him alone. Dae-ho knew she was right and he hated it. He could already see you running into player 124's arms if he didn't start doing something about this. And that image itself in his mind made him feel ill.

☆☆☆

The Mingle challenge started and Dae-ho knew he had to make sure that you weren't left alone at any point and be lost among the crowd, all freaking out and almost ripping each others' clothes off. When the carousel was slowly spinning and everyone stood still, Dae-ho stood right next to you, gently putting his hand on your wrist.

"Stick close to me, okay?" he said quietly and swallowed.

"I will," you answered with a smile that made Dae-ho automatically smile as well.

"Can i hold your hand?" Dae-ho asked, nervous for your reaction. "Just in case, you know."

You looked at him in the eyes with a warm gaze.

"Sure," you said and took his hand in yours, taking a tight grip with your fingers so he couldn't easily let go of you.

As the rounds went by, Dae-ho didn't let go of you even for a second until you had safely arrived inside one of the rooms and the door had been locked.

When it was time to find a room for two, Dae-ho immediately sprinted towards the rooms as fast as possible, trying to be one of the firsts to reach a free room.

After the door locked, he almost forgot to let go of your hand, finally relieved that the game must now be over.

"Dae-ho?" you said next to him.

"Oh, sorry," he stuttered and let go of you.

"You've been acting oddly, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, everything's fine," he assured you but by the tone of his voice he knew you weren't buying it either. This was it, he had to be direct with you right now or otherwise the player 124 would reach to you first. "Okay, fine. It's just, i get so nervous around you."

"Nervous?" you repeated. "What makes you nervous?"

"You," he whispered with a mere breath. "You, because i... i like you, Y/N."

"I like you too, Dae-ho," she said, confused. "I really struggle to see the problem."

"No, i mean i really like you," Dae-ho corrected himself. "Like more than anyone else here. A lot more. Like just, differently."

You narrowed your eyes, until let out a quick laugh, hiding it with your hand. Dae-ho was scared that he had just completely embarrassed himself.

"Dae-ho," you smirked and looked back into his eyes, speaking slowly. "Are you saying that you have a crush on me?"

His cheeks turned red. "Um, i suppose i am, yes."

"How long, hm?"

"Since the time you crashed on me on the first day probably," he admitted and looked away for a moment, but you put your hand on his cheek and made him look at you.

"Have you never liked a girl before, Dae-ho? What are you so afraid about?"

"Well, um-"

"That i wouldn't like you back?" you questioned.

"Probably, yeah," he stuttered.

"Well, i think you're really sweet," you started and took his hands in yours, now both of them. "And brave. Funny. Strong..."

"But?" Dae-ho asked, sure there was gonna be a turn in her words which made him feel hopeful.

"There's no 'but', silly," you said and playfully hit his shoulder. "I haven't known you long enough to get to the 'but' part."

Dae-ho looked at your hands tangled together, but you lifted his face up, finger on his chin.

"I like you too, Dae-ho," you said. "And i would like to get to know you better if you'd stop avoiding eye contact with me."

Dae-ho let out a relieved laugh.

"That's, well, good to hear," he said and swallowed, eyes moving between yours and your lips. Even though it was only a second, you noticed it and took his face in your hands.

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, not longer than couple of seconds. Almost right after that, the door unlocked itself.

"Nothing more romantic than bunch of people being slaughtered behind the door while we share our first kiss," you pointed out, both of you laughing.

"I hope there will be many more," Dae-ho whispered.

"There might, if you take me on a date."

"If we get out of here alive," he said.

"We will get out, have some hope," you insisted. "I'll take you to America too some day, if you want to."

"Really?"

"Of course."

You pressed another kiss on his cheek, until took his hand in yours and led him back to the rest of your group, relieved that all of them had survived.

Dae-ho couldn't stop smiling and could still feel the ghost of your lips on his cheek.

☆☆☆

A/N: If you've sent me a request, know that i'm working on them when i'm in the mood to write about that specific character, i'll try to update the existing fics too which have more parts coming up but it'll take a while 🫶🏻💙

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Menor

It's not often that Eli gets to have all three of you in the same place, not with you off travelling the world for your tennis, practically in a different country every month.

But the winter months is one that she can almost guarantee you'll be home for.

You finish your tennis season on a high, lifting the trophy at the WTA Finals before you spend a few more weeks in Poland with your training team coming up with a rough schedule of what you want to compete in next year.

But you're home now which means that Eli has all three of her daughters in the same country. Which also means mandatory days out together on the run up to Christmas.

It's easier to get you sorted than Alexia - still playing football every week - and Alba, still teaching as the schools haven't gone on holiday yet.

You're back in your childhood bedroom and seem to delight in sleeping the day away and only getting up around two in the afternoon to migrate from your bed to the sofa.

Occasionally, you roll out of bed early in the morning to take part in some sponsorship commitments.

Your tennis season has been nothing short of extraordinary this year and you've somehow become Nike Tennis' golden girl along the way with all of your tennis gear bar your racket being supplied by them.

Like how now, you and Alexia are wearing the exact same Nike shoes as you all walk through the Christmas market together.

"Mami!" You complain over the noise of the crowd," Mami, make them stop!"

Somewhere between the stall making handmade Santas and the stall with fresh paella, Alexia has gotten you into a headlock and is none too kindly ruffling your hair while Alba pinches your cheek between two fingers.

"She started it!" Alexia yells back.

"Alexia," Eli says with a sigh," You are thirty years old-"

"Yeah, Alexia!" You butt in," You're old."

"No, y/n, that's not what I meant," Eli tries to correct you but she's interrupted yet again.

"Yeah, older than you!" Alexia says," Which means you're meant to do what I say! Listen to your elders!"

"Oh? So you're elderly now? Maybe you should sit down, Ale, and rest your old back!"

You shove her off of you, stamping on her foot before taking off down the street.

"Hey! Get back here!" Alexia yells, taking off after you as she forces her way through the crowd.

Alba shakes her head in mock disapproval. "You know, Mami-"

"No, Alba," Eli says," I will not only buy you stuff tonight. Stop trying to get your sisters in trouble."

Alba shrugs. "It was worth a shot."

By the time Eli and Alba catch up, you and Alexia have forgotten whatever argument you've been having in favour of nosing around some of the stalls together.

Somehow in the time it's taken for Eli and Alba to return, you've both gotten cups of hot chocolate with caramel sauce and marshmallows along with little Christmas ornaments to hang on the tree.

"Must you two spend so much money?" Alba complains as she points at the little paper bags that Eli hadn't even noticed.

"It's not our fault that we've got a lot of it saved up."

Alba rolls her eyes. "It's exactly your fault! You don't have to keep winning so much in prize money."

You shrug. "It's not my fault I'm good at what I do."

"It's your fault you're not spending it on me," Alba says, tongue poking out of her mouth.

"If I buy you stuff, will I get sister points?"

Alba doesn't even have to think about it. "Yes."

You grin. "What do you want?"

Eli sighs. "Alba, please stop exploiting your little sister's goodwill."

"Yeah Alba," Alexia butts in, her own tongue sticking out," Don't exploit our little sister."

"You do it all the time!"

"I'm allowed to!"

"Girls," Eli says wearily," Please stop exploiting each other."

It's a weak request, one that Eli knows will be ignored but she has to at least attempt it, if only to look like a good mother in a crowd of strangers.

She easily tunes out the bickering of the three of you as she turns to the hot chocolate stall and buys herself a cup of it.

You and Alexia have good taste, she can give you that because it's delightfully creamy and Eli takes a long gulp before turning back around.

She's not surprised that the three of you have disappeared.

In all honesty, she's surprised you all stuck around for so long.

Usually, the three of you go off by yourselves the moment you step into a market. Eli's kind of been a bit antsy for you to all disappear. She does her best Christmas shopping when none of you are around.

"Alexia!" You complain," Hurry up! Alba's saving us a spot in line."

"But..." Alexia pretends to stumble, making herself seem suddenly weak and weary. "I...I don't know if I can go on! You know, with my old bones!"

"Alexia, you're so dramatic!"

She grins. "Yes."

"Come on!" You say," I want to go on the drop ride!"

"You always want to go on the drop ride!"

"Exactly," You say, pulling her more forcefully than before," Because it's tradition! Don't ruin tradition!"

Alexia laughs, finally having stopped digging her heels in to throw her arm over your shoulder.

"You know I'll never break tradition."

[veltana]

Saved by the cowboy

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: cowboy!Steve, kind of DBF!Steve, Steve works for your dad, implied sexual harassment (not by Steve), protective!Steve, fluff, angst, grovel, smut, oral (fem receiving), piv sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex (reader is on bc), hint of breeding kink, pet names (sugar), happy ending.

✦ Summary: You call Steve to help you get home from the company holiday party.

✦ Note: I was supposed to write four holiday ficlets based on this, but instead Steve swept in and made me write a whole fic about just him instead 🙈 sorry not sorry! Also, thanks to everyone who helped choose the Steve pic for this fic!

Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome! 🩵

Masterlist | AO3

When the invitation to the annual holiday party came, all your coworkers joked about how wild it would be, but you had brushed that aside. You’d seen your fair share of company get-togethers, and they were never anything special. All the stories about fistfights and cheating scandals always turned out to be exaggerated.

“Hey, newbie!” Susan had called. You had been working there for a couple of months, and the newbie nickname was starting to get old. Still, you had taken a deep breath and turned to her with a smile. “Yes?” “Are you coming to the party? You can ride with me!”

Up until about a year ago, you had been living on the other side of the country, making a name for yourself and climbing the ranks, but then your dad had a health scare, and you realized that no money in the world would be worth it if it meant losing time with your parents. So you had moved back to your small hometown to be closer to them and even help out on the ranch if needed. You had found a nice apartment and lived off your savings until an opportunity had presented itself. It didn’t pay as much as your previous job, but it didn't matter.

“That’s great, Susan, thank you!”

Right about now, as you’re hiding in a small supply closet, you wish you’d never said yes.

It turned out the company provided a free bar at the event, and it hadn’t taken long for everyone to get plastered, including Susan. You had taken it slow, only on your second glass of wine when one of your bosses had asked to see you in private.

Wanting to make a good impression, you followed him, and it wasn’t until you were alone and his grabby hands had reached for your clothes that you realized your mistake. "No, stop!" you had yelled. He had been bigger and stronger, but he was drunk, and that had been to your advantage as you had shoved him as hard as you could and ran. Down an empty hallway, you had found a supply closet and locked the door behind you. Shaking, you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and think about what to do next. Going home with Susan is out of the question and you're in no condition to drive yourself.

Fishing up your phone from your pocket, you scroll through your contacts, stopping at your parents, but it's late and snowing. You don’t want them driving to get you.

When you get to S you stop. Steve Rogers' name seems to jump out at you.

He started working for your father about five years ago and your dad isn’t the kind of guy who just sprinkles praise freely, so when he mentioned him over the phone and said, “That Steve fellow is a good guy,” you knew he would be something else. When you traveled home for the holidays that year he was invited to Sunday dinner. You'd thought he'd be around your dad's age and were shocked when he was much closer to you.

Later he purchased a house not far from your parents, and since he is single and lives alone your mom feels bad for him, which means that he's invited to every Sunday dinner, just like you.

And it's fine.

Except Steve is hot, charming, and nice to everyone. He and your dad get along great. Your mom adores him. But because of that, you keep your distance. No need to complicate things with your dad’s employee.

One day when you had been helping on the ranch, checking the fences with your dad he had out of the blue told you that if you ever find yourself in a situation where you need help and you can't get a hold of him or your mom, you call Steve.

So you do.

Because you usually don't call Steve he knows something is up.

“Hey, sugar, is everything okay?”

"Yeah. I mean no, my ride home is drunk. Well, everybody is plastered, and one of my bosses…" you don’t finish that sentence. "I didn't want to call my parents.”

"Send me the address, I'll be there as fast as I can."

He hangs up without a goodbye and you send him the address. After what feels like ages you get a text that he’s outside. You check the hallway before making your way towards the entrance.

As you near it, you overhear someone whispering about the hot cowboy, wondering who he is. There is a flare of jealousy in your chest at the thought of Steve being with any of them, but as soon as you see him, the feeling in you shifts to something else.

Steve stands just inside the doors, hands in the pockets of his wrangler jeans, with boots, cowboy hat, and his fur-lined jacket that looks so good on him. Hurryingly you collect your coat and go to him.

"Thank you," you whisper as you stop in front of him, shrugging the jacket on. His face is serious, scanning you for injuries, and then he looks up over your head at the crowd behind you. In one smooth motion, he takes off his cowboy hat, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it on top of your head before looking down at you again.

His blue eyes which usually hold softness and mirth are hard, but you know it's not directed at you.

"Ready to go, sugar?" he asks with that perfect voice that makes you hot on a good day. Now, with his hat on your head, and all the implications that come with that, you're ready to melt.

“Yes, Steve,” you nod, hoping you sound normal. He opens the door for you and you don't turn around to say goodbye to any of your co-workers.

His big white truck is parked just outside and you quickly jump in. The cab carries Steve’s scent, wrapping you in a sense of safety. It's like home, but different.

The engine rumbles to life, and the building disappears behind you. He’s driven you home from Sunday dinners a few times when your mom insisted you share a bottle of wine with her. He graciously offered his help then, so there’s no need to give him directions now.

“Are you okay?” he asks and shoots you a look, brow creased in concern. You hum a yes in response and then sigh, "I just didn't want to worry mom and dad." He nods, “I understand.” “Sorry if I ruined your Friday night plans.” “Don’t worry, sugar, there was nothing exciting happening at my end.”

You’ve never been inside Steve’s house but you imagine it’s cozy. He seems like a man who enjoys comfort, despite the way of life he’s chosen, and even if you wouldn’t describe him as a softie, he’s always nice and that’s more than can be said about other cowboys that your dad employs. Maybe that’s why your dad appreciates Steve. He’s hard-working, but never an asshole.

During the rest of the drive you talk aimlessly about the weather and the ranch while the radio plays in the background. Outside your apartment complex, he effortlessly maneuvers his big truck on the small streets and parks it.

You turn to him, "I can’t thank you enough for this.” "Anytime, sugar.”

As you get out, he does the same, rounding the truck. "I'm fine from here," you tell him, not wanting to bother him further. "Absolutely, but my mom raised me right, so I'm following you to the door." "Oh, okay," you smile and when you turn around you feel the light weight of a hand at the low of your back guiding you forward.

At your door, you turn to thank him once again, but Steve asks instead, "Are you sure you're okay? You sounded upset on the phone." "Yeah," you answer. Honestly, you haven’t thought one second of your boss since Steve showed up. His calm, caring presence erases every unease, making you feel safe. The two of you stand in the corridor and look at each other, and in a moment of courage, you kiss his stubbled cheek. "But thank you again for coming to get me," you tell him.

Steve releases a breath and looks at you with lidded eyes. His hand comes up to touch where your lips just were and then he slowly reaches for you. Your eyes widen as Steve’s rough hands caress your cheek. “I’ll always come, if you need me, I’ll be there,” he promises, voice low and sincere.

You swallow hard before catching Steve’s hand with your own and pressing it against your cheek with a sigh, letting your eyes flutter close for a second. You can’t have him, but if this is all the touch you’re ever going to experience from Steve, you’re taking advantage of it. You can blame it on the wine.

“Sugar,” he rasps and you open your eyes again, letting go and ready to let this be a cherished memory. You’re stopped short by Steve’s hand sliding back to cup your neck. His fingers against your bare skin send tingles down your spine that make heat pool in your belly. "Steve," you answer.

He leans a little closer but hesitates. "You had a rough evening," he says. “But you fixed it,” you point out. “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he leans even closer. "You won’t," you tell him, confident in your answer, gripping his jacket.

His other arm slides around your waist, pulling you close and pressing you against him. The firm strength of him feels so perfect that a soft moan escapes you. In response he lets out a groan, softly brushing his lips against yours, making more tingling sensations shoot throughout your body.

Not wanting to wait any longer you close the small distance and finally kiss him. It’s soft and chaste at first but with an edge of desperation that becomes prominent as Steve deepens the kiss, holding you even harder. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his waist, wordlessly telling him how much you want him.

The two of you jerk apart when a loud noise sounds somewhere else in the building. Without a word, you let go of Steve to reach behind you and open the door to your apartment. For a second his eyes leave yours to look at the invitation. He doesn’t give you a vocal answer, he just goes back to your lips and starts moving you backward.

Inside, he removes his cowboy hat from your head, placing it on the side table before starting to pull at your clothes and as you guide him to your bedroom, you make his clothes come off too.

Together you fall onto the bed in just your underwear. Steve's body is a testament to his demanding job, soft and hard in all the right places and warm against you. His hands never still, they caress and explore you as if he might never get the chance again. When he pulls back, his hair is wild from you running your fingers through it.

“Never thought I would be here.” He kisses your jaw and down the column of your throat. The touch of his hands makes goosebumps burst out over your body. “Never thought you’d have me in your bed,” he continues as he kisses the top of your breasts. “Someone like you, beautiful and sophisticated.” He hooks a finger in your bra and pulls down. “Being with someone rough and dirty like me.”

“You’re not dirty,” you answer breathlessly as his mouth closes over your nipple.

Steve moans, just as you do, arching up against him. He spends ample time on both your breasts, sucking and licking, making you feel crazy with how much you need him. "I’ve dreamt of tasting you, sugar, but I want more than your tits," he admits. “Yes!” you tell him and he shimmies down your body, pressing kisses to your skin and pulling off your panties before settling in between your legs, parting your folds reverently with his thumbs.

“Look at that pretty fucking pussy,” he murmurs before descending on you.

Steve eats you as if you're the last meal on earth, savoring every taste but at the same time wanting to devour you as quickly as possible. His beard scratches the inside of your thighs and your mound, his face buried deep as he pierces you with his tongue, lapping at your channel before going back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Quickly, you're a quivering mess, trying your best not to buck up against Steve's mouth, to be present and savor the experience.

The pleasure envelopes you, making you ache in the best way before the heat rushes to your core at Steve's steady ministrations.

"I'm gonna come!" you tell him, hands fisting the sheets. His only response is a deep hum. Your legs close around his head as you howl his name.

As you come down, and release him from the prison of your thighs he chuckles, before giving your clit one last kiss. Then his lips travel up your body again, stopping to play with your nipples one more time before finding your mouth. Despite your near comatose state, you respond to his kiss, not caring that he tastes of you.

"Please tell me you have a condom," he says against your lips. You feel the hard cock brush your stomach, still in his boxers. As he sits back you admire how it tents the fabric and the wet spot at the front.

But when you shake your head, there is such a pain in his face you're scared he's having a heart attack or something. Quickly you say, "I'm on birth control!" That lights a different fire in Steve's eyes.

"Oh, sugar," he smiles wickedly. Your body is still thrumming from the orgasm but you in no way feel sated. The look of him on your bed brings back all the fantasies you've hidden deeply inside the recesses of your mind, telling yourself that it's no use to fantasize about something that will never happen.

“I got tested right before I moved and I haven't been with anyone since,” you continue. Before you can ask Steve says, “Well, it's not like there's a flock of buckle bunnies up at the ranch to choose from, so it's been a while. Hopefully, I still know how to.”

You raise yourself on your elbows, tilting your head to the side. “If the previous performance is anything to go by I think we'll be good.”

Steve moves to chuck off his underwear, then he's back on top of you again, and you give him your mouth. Hungry is the only way to describe the way he kisses, and when he breaks away you whine, but then you realize it's because he's guiding his dick into you.

“I need to see it,” he rumbles. “I need to see your cunt swallow my cock.”

You part your legs more to give his hips room. You want to watch too but as his tip pushes inside it becomes too much to keep your eyes open. Your arms slide out and you hit the bed, consumed by the feel of him, neverending pleasure. He's thick and long and fills you perfectly. Your insides spasm, wanting more.

"Steve," you whine and wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him close as you move to try and take him deeper. "That's right. Let me hear that sweet voice of yours," he says, stilling all movements.

"Please, Steve, I need it! I need you to fill me up with your cum!" "Oh, sugar, I'm not gonna keep you waiting," he answers and moves. Slowly at first, to let the both of you get used to it. It's impossible to keep in any noise when he thrusts into you. For a second you feel silly, moaning as if you're in some kind of porno, but at the same time, you want Steve to know how fucking good his dick is.

And Steve isn't any better, every time his hips hit your skin he punctuates it with a moan of his own, a deep rumble that only excites you more.

On those forbidden nights, when you allowed yourself to dream of Steve, one thing always came to the front of your mind. “Steve, can I ride you?" you ask breathlessly. “Fuck, yeah,” he answers and in one smooth motion he wraps his arms around your body and rolls you over. It's a wonder you don't fall off the bed.

You lean forward, capturing his face between your hands, kissing him as you move against him. "Take what you need, sugar. Ride your cowboy,” Steve growls into your mouth.

He grabs your ass and fucks up into you while you grind down on him. He's so deep it's driving you insane. Panting you grab the headboard, finding leverage to push your body hard into his thrusts.

“You're fucking divine,” Steve drawls, his grip hardens, lifting you up and slamming you down. “I want you on top of me every day. Ride my dick, or my face, whatever you want, just let me have you!”

At the same time, your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, making the second orgasm build. “Fuck, you're holding my dick so tight, like your pussy doesn't want to let me go.” All you answer with is a strangled mewl, too busy chasing your high.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come on my dick? And then let me fill you up with my cum, sugar? Is that what gets you off, riding your cowboy until he bursts inside of you?

Steve's words spur you on, doubling your efforts, angling your hips until his dick presses into your g-spot and your clit grinds against his pelvis. You feel him pulsing, knowing he's about to come in you is so hot.

“I'm gonna come!” you gasp. “Yeah, me too, sugar!”

With a cry of ecstasy, the climax washes over your skin, sending convulsions through your muscles. You feel every pulse of Steve's own orgasm and hear him call your name.

You collapse on his chest, both of you panting. Steve hugs you close, his hands rubbing along your back as his dick softens and the cum starts to leak out, but you could care less. Being in Steve's arms feels right. Hearing his beating heart, the scent of sex and sweat in the air, knowing it's from the both of you.

After a while, he speaks, but it's not the words you'd expect. “Fuck, sugar, I promised myself this would never happen. I know your dad likes me and all but I don't think he'd take too kindly to me fucking his daughter.”

The happy high in you bursts into sour bubbles, and the pink, golden afterglow is replaced by the harsh reality.

“What do you mean?” you frown as you sit up. Suddenly everything feels sticky, cold, and gross. “You're my boss’, my friend's, daughter. I can't have you even if I wanted to.”

A lump forms in your throat and you try to clear it before asking, “What are you saying?” “It can't happen again.” “Are you saying this was a mistake?” “Yes, sugar, but it was the best mistake of my life.” “Yeah, okay, well…” you get off him and take the cover to wrap around you. The cum leaks down your legs as you say, “You saw me to the door, and I'm fine, thank you for coming to get me.” “Sugar, please, you understand don't you?” Steve stands up, reaching for you but you shrug his hands away. “You know the way out, I need to shower.”

Without looking back you hurry to the bathroom, listening to Steve gather his things and the sound of the door shutting behind him. You stand even longer looking at the shower running, not wanting to wash away the evidence of Steve's visit, but finally, you do.

You manage to avoid Sunday dinner by claiming you're not feeling well. Your mom offers to drop off some food, but you assure her she doesn't need to. If she shows up and asks how you're feeling you're scared everything is just gonna come blurting out. Before hanging up, she adds, "Dad and Steve hope you feel better soon!"

With effort, you respond, "Yeah, tell them I said thanks."

The following week, you feel like you can't excuse yourself and you just hope Steve won’t be there for some reason.

As you park your car at the house you don't see his truck anywhere, easing the anxiety that sits in your stomach.

At the beginning of December, your mom has decked out the house and yard with holiday decorations. It lightens up the otherwise dark ranch that's far away from any streetlights.

“Oh honey, great to see you!” Your mom greets you at the door with a hug, your dad right behind her. After saying hello and getting out of your clothes, your mom is quick to put you to work. “Can you do me a favor? I left the dessert to cool in the sunroom, can you please get it for me?”

Growing up, the sunroom was one of your favorite places. You have great memories of sitting in the plush reading chair after the sun has set during the summer months, the windows open, and listening to the sound of the animals out in the field. Then, after your dad installed a fireplace, you loved to curl up with your hot cocoa and listen to the crackling of the flames while it slowly heated the space. Just like the rest of the house and yard, it's decorated to perfection, soft lights illuminating the space and making it a magical place.

What catches you off guard are the flower petals scattered over the floor, and in the middle of the floor is Steve on both his knees.

No dessert in sight, if you don't count the cowboy on the ground.

For a short moment, you wonder if your parents knew about this, but then you hear the door shut behind you and that answers it. The room is chilly, but your blood is rushing hot in your veins. You're embarrassed and mad and to your utter disappointment, hopeful for what he has to say.

“Steve?” you ask, crossing your arms, feigning annoyance. “Sugar, I'm here, on my knees to ask for your forgiveness and to please hear me out.” His blue eyes are a weakness of yours but you steal yourself to not fall for the softness in them.

“I assume you told them what happened?” you nod in the direction you came from. Steve looks uncomfortable, even blushing. “Well, I didn't give them any details, but I told them we kissed and that I messed up. Thought your dad was gonna murder me first. He thought I got you pregnant, so I think they figured it out anyway.” “Pregnant?!” you exclaim. It all feels overwhelming, and you bury your face in your hands, wishing you could disappear through the floor.

Then warm rough hands clasp yours, pulling them away carefully. “I also told them that I'm in love with their daughter and if she gives me another chance, I'll prove to her every day how much she means to me.” Steve's voice is soft and earnest; it makes tears burn at the back of your eyes.

You want to be mad, but you haven't been able to stop thinking about his stupid face since he left. The fucker also left his cowboy hat behind, and every time you looked at it you remembered how he placed it on your head the night he came to your rescue. You could have brought it with you tonight and left it on the porch for your parents to find. But you didn't. Secretly you hoped that Steve would have to come by your place to collect it.

But even after acting like an asshole, you're still very much in love with Steve Rogers.

“Yeah, fine,” you say nonchalantly and look away, trying to hide how happy you feel. A finger on your chin turns your head back towards him. “Fine, sugar? Just fine?”

Forcing your stone-faced expression to stay in place you say, “For now, it's fine. Don't think some flower petals, kneeling, and sweet words are gonna make me forgive you just like that.” “Every day, sugar, I'll work my ass off until you do.” You glance at him, taking in the rugged handsomeness of the man before you, and you just can't resist. Leaning in, you kiss his cheek, reminiscent of what caused this whole thing in the first place. But Steve isn't satisfied. He gathers you up and presses his lips to yours. If you said you hadn't missed the feel of his kiss, you'd be lying. So you return it, weaving your arms around his neck and then your legs around his waist as he lifts you from the ground into his strong arms.

“I don't think mom would take too kindly to us fucking in here,” you tell him when you pull away. “No, but after dinner you're coming to my place and staying the night.” “Bossy…” you joke. “I didn't mean it like that, sugar, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't-” You interrupt him with a kiss. “Steve, calm down, I was joking, it's fine.” “Fine? “Fine!”

And everything was.

[stclaretarot]

PAC ⭒ how will your future spouse show you love?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards pulled · queen of cups, four of pentacles, four of swords, four of wands, five of swords. 

channelled songs · no name no 5 by elliott smith. night away by taemin. sick, nervous & broke! by jpegmafia. 666 in luxaxa by backxwash. 

my dear group one  ♡ your future spouse may be a busy person with little time to themselves, let alone time for you. however, they never use this as an excuse. 

your future spouse may constantly be away from home, for some, as they are a trucker, or because they moved somewhere with better job opportunities.

however, to your future spouse, effort equals love and love equals effort, and so they will still do whatever they can to show you that they love you. in particular, they will write you long letters that they mail to you. or write you long paragraphs keeping you updated about their life and checking in with you about yours. or they may take the time when they have it to write you what is essentially a newsletter. 

they may also send you long voicenotes when they can, or make the effort to call you, even if only for a few minutes. 

GROUP TWO

cards pulled · the lovers, page of cups, ace of cups, five of pentacles, four of pentacles. 

channelled songs · fever by ateez. bolo by penomeco & ydg. lubie by lous and the yakuza. tender love by exo. 

my dear group two  ♡ your future spouse is the epitome of a romantic. they are just SO romantic. they are romantic to their very core, and is almost certainly the most romantic person that you have ever known, let alone ever been with. 

this may be overwhelming, and also too good to be true. 

they will dance with you, make you playlists, and go above and beyond to take you to all the best events and restaurants in town. this may be to an extreme, where they may not have a lot of self-control when it comes to spoiling you and romancing you. 

GROUP THREE

cards pulled · page of pentacles, queen of swords, ace of wands, three of cups, eight of cups.

channelled songs · man in the mirror - 2012 remaster by michael jackson. suddenly by nct 127. solange by tobi lou & glassface. diet coke by pusha t. 

my dear group three ♡ your future spouse  is practical and has a very level head on their shoulders. they are a careful and cautious person, who will show you love by extending this care to you -- especially in making sure that you are looked after financially. 

but, not just by providing for you, but by making sure that you are able to look after yourself financially. by making sure that you are independent, have financialy knowledge, and are able to look after yourself without them.

they will help you save money in the now so that you can look after and spoil yourself in the future. they will constantly be on the lookout for ways you can make more money. they will also make it a priority to be careful with your money so that you can travel, have nice holidays together, and experience all of lives luxuries.

GROUP FOUR

cards pulled · wheel of fortune, eight of cups, the hierophant, seven of cups, king of cups. 

channelled songs · love this by cosmo jarvis. rose parade by elliott smith. real you by twice. guitare et tambourin by dalida. 

my dear group four  ♡ your future spouse will show you love by being your biggest hypeman. they will hype you up and compliment you constantly. 

you may be somewhat or quite insecure, and so it may be a priority to your future spouse to let you know how beautiful and attractive you are. no, not only that, but how absolutely amazing and incredible you are. 

they will make sure that never a day goes by without complimenting you. they will make an effort to overcome your insecurities with you. for example, if you are insecure about your body and want to lose/gain weight, they will go on that journey with you, supoorting you all the way. or if you are insecure about your education, they will take full responsibility of your household and finances so that you can study full-time. 

nobody believes in you more than your future spouse. 

[moonstruckme]

Happy birthday and congratulations on 7k!! You deserve it. Thank you for sharing your gift for writing with us <3

Can I request apple pie- James potter + an airport terminal at midnight

I once saw a guy at the airport who looked a bit like James but I was looking busted and severely hungover from my last night of spring break to talk to him 😅

Thank you for requesting lovely!!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 688 words

“Excuse me.” 

The voice is soft but still you wake with something like a growl brewing in your chest, fingers tightening possessively around the strap of your backpack. There’s a boy with brown eyes and a strong chin looking at you concernedly from behind a pair of glasses. 

“Sorry,” he says, setting a hand on your suitcase. You’ve got your leg hooked through the handle, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to steal it, only resting his hand there. “Would you like this?” He holds up a clumped-up mass of fabric. 

You blink at him, trying to puzzle out whether he’s really making no sense or whether you’re just that tired. 

“For your head,” the boy clarifies. “You just, you don’t look very comfortable.” 

You lift your head, feeling the imprint that something poking through your backpack has left in your cheek. “Sorry,” you say blearily. “I don’t understand.” 

“That’s my fault,” he owns immediately. “Sorry, I meant would you like to use my hoodie as a pillow? So you can sleep properly.” 

“Oh.” You still feel odd, and it doesn’t help that this is the sort of thing that might usually only happen in a dream. Since when do attractive strangers walk up to you in airports? “Um, thank you, but you don’t have to.” 

“No, it’s really alright.” With your head lifted, he starts positioning it atop your backpack, fluffing it as though it’s a real pillow. “It’s my spare. I’m warm enough without it, see?” He gestures to the hoodie he’s wearing as if to demonstrate. It’s a deep red color that looks nice against his warm skin. He does look very warm, overall. “Anyways, there.” He steps back, grinning almost bashfully as he takes a seat across from you. “Now hopefully you can sleep better.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He nods, still smiling much too brightly for this hour of night (or morning, you suppose. Is it morning yet?). 

You close your eyes, trying to ignore how pleasantly warm your makeshift pillow is, like he’s been carrying it around in his arms all day. It smells nice, too, the scent of a shampoo you vaguely recognize and also pine, maybe picked up from wherever he’s coming from. You open your eyes again. 

“When’s your flight?” 

He looks back at you, pulling his headphones off one ear. 

“When’s your flight?” you ask again. “So I can make sure to give it back in time.” 

“Oh, not for a few hours yet.” He waves you off. His headphones come down around his neck. “We’re suffering delays. When’s yours?” 

“Five-thirty.” You feel weary at the thought of it, though you can’t wait to get out of here. You’ve been dying to leave this airport since you’d arrived, grievously regretting your decision to save money on a hotel for the last night of your trip. 

He makes a sympathetic hissing noise. “That sounds truly awful. Early bird gets the worm, though?” 

“Something like that.” 

He smiles, and maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting but you think that if you weren’t already lying down it would take your knees out from under you. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name, and he nods like he’s tucking it away. 

“Are you going on holiday?” he asks, crossing one of his legs under him, getting comfortable. 

“Sort of,” you reply. “I’m going to see my mum. But she makes it feel like a holiday.” Something softens around James' eyes, and for reasons unknown it makes your face warm. “Where are you headed?” 

“My best mates are spending the holiday in France. They’ve spared me a pullout couch.” James tilts his head, looking far more content than anyone traveling at this hour ought to be. You wonder if his lips just lie in a permanent uptilt. “So where you’re going to visit your mum, is that where you’re from?” 

You reposition your backpack so you’re propped up a bit more, James’ hoodie still under your cheek but suddenly feeling less keen on sleeping the hours until your flight away. Oddly, you’re no longer dying to leave this airport quite so badly.

[stariikis]

tell my fortune

synopsis ; the story of how you manage to get an attractive waiter's number... in the most unexpected way possible.

pairing ; waiter!nishimura riki x customer!reader genre ; fluff, first encounters wc ; 1100 notes ; to indulge MYSELF, riki will be aged down in this fic. like 16 years old.

When your friend recommended a Chinese restaurant to visit, you were expecting the reason to be exceptional food. Pretty foolish of you, one reason being, you were in Korea – another being, when has Yoo Jungyeong ever suggested visiting somewhere, if not to ogle at attractive boys impossible to pull?

The first thing you notice as she holds open the door for you to step inside is the fact that it’s a pretty modern, fancy restaurant, not typical of a traditional Chinese food chain. What are you expecting though, in Korea of all places? Along the city streets, everything screams modern. 

The second thing you notice when a waiter that has her making heart eyes – gross – leads you to a seat, is how young the waitresses and waiters seem. Some seem shy of eighteen, while some look like plain teenagers coming to earn a little extra pocket money during the holidays. You don’t judge them though; you’d do that too if you had the luxury of time. 

Today’s an exception from having your nose stuck in piles of homework and assigned reading. After all, within the first week of the holidays you finished almost everything, so you’re free to take a break when you wish. Another reason being, you wanted to catch up with Jungyeong. 

But not like this, her eyes shining as she gazes dreamily at a guy whose uniform nametag states, ‘Sim Jaeyun’. 

“Will you stop staring?” You hide behind the menus to save yourself the embarrassment. “I think they’re noticing.” 

“Fine,” she huffs, but the glaze over her eyes doesn’t dissipate. “He’s really cute, though.” 

“Did you bring me here to have a good meal or to stare at delusion three thousand?” You snap, shoving her copy of the menu towards her. She finally rolls her eyes and flips open the menu. 

She points to a steamed fish dish, “This. This is good.” 

And after she recommends practically the whole menu to you, she looks at you expectantly, pressuring you into making a quick decision. You blink, because it all looks pretty appetising to you, and decide on the first fish dish she showed you. Anyway, you’re too indecisive. If you don’t pick now, you might stay the whole night. 

Since Jungyeong has returned to conjuring up fantasies of the waiter Sim Jaeyun across the room, you raise your hand and grab the attention of a young waiter, who seems the same age as you. He appears nervous as he approaches you with a notepad and pen. Is this his first time working here? 

“What can I get you?” He grins awkwardly, and you have to admit. He looks pretty cute trying to maintain professionalism though he looks like he’s crumbling internally. Smiling kindly, you guide him through your order as gently as you can. As you read out your order, he seems to relax progressively, nodding along. 

Just as he’s about to run off to convey your order to the cooks, he bows and thanks you sincerely. For some reason, your stomach flips in excitement at this, lingering tingles in your chest as he darts off. 

Nishimura Riki, read the nametag. He’s Japanese working at a Chinese restaurant in Korea. 

“So,” Jungyeong waggles her finger in front of your face teasingly. “He’s cute, huh?” She drawls, obviously trying to prove her point. 

You don’t buy it. “He is cute,” — you admit, and your friend raises her eyebrows — “but I’m not going to daydream about him the whole time I’m here. Unlike a certain someone…” You reach out to flick her arm amiably. 

Ironically, even though you say this, as Jungyeong starts to ramble about her life recently, your line of vision inevitably travels to the back of the restaurant, where Jaeyun and Riki are chatting. They seem to be quite close, as Jaeyun pats Riki’s back and laughs. Against your will, you’re interested in the way they interact with each other. Scratch that, you’re interested in the way Riki looks when he’s smiling. 

Out of the blue, the young waiter glances up and meets your gaze, just as Jungyeong starts to catch on that you’re not paying attention. 

“Dude, what a hypocrite,” she scoffs, but you ignore her. Riki quirks an eyebrow at you playfully, as if asking you why you’re casually staring at him. You don’t know why but your heart skips a beat. 

For the next five minutes, all you can focus on is the way your cheeks are overwhelmingly warm and probably look a fiery shade of red. 

Even when your food arrives, you feel sick to your stomach and can only bear to have a few bites before clocking out. Jungyeong looks at you, half worried and half with a tilt of the head that asks, is she going crazy? 

Eventually, you have to ask for a takeout container because your friend clearly can’t finish the whole dish by herself. 

You just think that you need to get out of there as soon as possible, so when Riki himself runs over, handing you both a fortune cookie wrapped in plastic, it comes as a shock. His fingers linger over the snack as he passes it to you, and you swear he’s gazing into the depths of your soul. 

Oooookay, this is uncomfortable. Does he want me to open it in front of his face or… is he being creepy? Or — this is where you panic — is he telling me he was also uncomfortable when I was staring at him? Should I apologise? Do I say something? What does he want from me?

Luckily for the overthinker emerging from you, he makes an unwrapping gesture and smiles silently, as if affectiona– okay, that’s too much.

You take the cracker out the wrapper, and snap it in half as quick as you can. Anything to get you out of this awkward situation. 

A glance over the table shows that Jungyeong has opened hers already, and nothing seems to be out of the blue. So what is Riki trying to get at? 

When you tug the slip of paper from the cracker, you don’t know if you go completely pale or grow even redder. 

A phone number in black pen ink has been written over the paper in an evidently rushed manner. 

You look up at the young waiter, who just shrugs and giggles at how clueless you look. How… did he… huh…? 

As you leave the restaurant in a hurry (mostly because Jungyeong is borderline screaming on your behalf), you swear you catch Jaeyun giving Riki a thumbs up in the corner of your eye.

more of my works >

guys i'm back after like a month of an unofficial hiatus. sorry to leave yall hanging like that! i'll get back to regular updates soon, i promise lawl. hope you didn't forget the plot of yitr...

BTW THX FOR 300

[formulaisa]

So I saw you were taking requests for Franco and i thought I would share my idea!

How about Mexican reader where she is like a fan of formula 1 and goes to one of the gp (any of them). And like she is there minding her business in the paddock (like asking drivers for photos and autographs) and Franco sees her and is like 😍😍😍 immediately and when reader goes to ask for a photo he starts like actually interacting with her (more than the polite thank you for being a fan talk) and idk you can take over from there.

Don’t feel pressured to write this! I just think is a cute idea and definitely not self protecting

The Signature | Franco Colapinto

Summary: Growing up watching Formula 1 with your dad made you dream of attending a Grand Prix, but you never imagined your first paddock experience would lead to catching a certain Argentinian rookie's attention.

Warnings: some spanish (with translations)

Author's note: Sorry for the inactivity! I've been busy with my family for the holidays. If you have any feedback or suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! <3

F1 Masterlist / homepage / main masterlist

You had always dreamed of attending a Grand Prix. Ever since your dad introduced you to Formula 1 at a young age, you were hooked. The roar of the engines, the speed, the energy of the crowd—it all fascinated you. But the problem was, you lived far away from any Grand Prix, and the costs for tickets, travel, and hotels made this dream seem impossible.

That all changed when you went to college in the US. You were awarded a generous scholarship to a school in Texas, conveniently close to the US Grand Prix. Juggling a waitressing job and school, you worked hard and finally saved enough money to attend a race. To top it off, you earned enough to afford a paddock pass. There was only one thing that could make this experience even better: having your dad with you. Though he couldn't be there, you had a plan to make it up to him. You'd bought him a blank hat and set out to get as many driver autographs as possible for him.

It was a scorching Saturday in Austin. Qualifying was starting in just a few hours, so you arrived early, hoping to catch some drivers for autographs and photos. The paddock was already buzzing with activity—mechanics wheeling tires, engineers huddled over laptops, and the occasional flash of a driver's race suit disappearing into a garage.

By now, you'd been surprisingly lucky. You'd gotten photos and signatures from three drivers: Carlos, Yuki, and Nico. Their signatures decorated the pristine white hat, each one making you imagine your dad's face lighting up when he saw it. But you wouldn't be truly satisfied until you got signatures from your two favorites: Checo and Lewis.

The Texas heat was beginning to wear you down. Your outfit, a cute dress and cowboy boots, looked stylish but weren't exactly built for the sweltering weather. Sweat beaded at your temples, and you could feel your hair starting to stick to the back of your neck. You stopped by a kiosk to grab a water bottle, then took a quieter shortcut back to the main paddock area, hoping to bump into a driver.

Just as you rounded the corner, you spotted him. It was hard not to. Franco Colapinto was strutting through the paddock in his navy blue Williams polo, his trademark smirk on full display. The young Argentinian driver had been making waves in his rookie season, his natural talent and charismatic personality quickly making him a fan favorite. Now was your chance.

Suddenly, a small lump filled your throat. It was a strange sensation, one you hadn't felt with any of the other drivers today. Your hands felt clammy, and your heart began to race. You found yourself nervous in a way that had nothing to do with meeting a Formula 1 driver and everything to do with meeting him.

"Umm, hi, Franco?" you asked, your voice hesitant. "Could I get a picture?"

He paused and turned around, pulling an AirPod from his ear. His dark eyes met yours, and his smirk softened into a genuine smile that made your stomach do a little flip. "Yeah, of course," he said, his Argentine accent adding a musical quality to his words.

You pulled out your phone and went to take a selfie. As you did, you noticed Franco adjusting his hair in the camera, running his fingers through the dark waves with practiced ease.

"Sorry, it's just so hot here," he explained quickly, before leaning in and flashing a smile for the photo. As you snapped the picture, you caught him glancing down at you, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The subtle cologne he wore mixed with the mechanical scents of the paddock, creating an oddly intoxicating combination.

"I know. I feel like I'm melting," you said, tucking your phone back into your purse. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as if to emphasize your point.

Franco hesitated for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes sparkled with interest as he asked, "¿Hablas español?" [Do you speak Spanish?]

"Sí, sí," you replied with a small smile, pleasantly surprised by the question. [Yes, yes.]

"¿De dónde eres?" he asked, his signature smirk returning. [Where are you from?]

"México," you said, "pero voy a la universidad aquí." Your voice grew more confident as you spoke in Spanish, and you noticed how Franco's posture relaxed, his shoulders dropping slightly as he leaned in to hear you better. [Mexico, but I go to college here.]

“I could tell from your accent,” He nodded, clearly interested, still not in a rush to leave. The bustling paddock seemed to fade into the background as he focused his attention entirely on you. He glanced around the paddock, then asked, "Are you here by yourself?"

You sighed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, it's just me." The admission made you feel suddenly vulnerable, but there was something comforting about the way Franco listened, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Paddock pass all for yourself, huh?" His voice carried no judgment, just genuine curiosity.

"I saved up all my tips from work," you said, absently playing with the lanyard around your neck. "I originally wanted to surprise my dad with tickets for his birthday, but I couldn't afford a flight and hotel from Mexico, so it didn't work out."

He looked at you with understanding, his expression softening. "Where do you work?" he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

You shrugged slightly, a little embarrassed. "Just some restaurant... I'm a waitress." The words felt small compared to his profession, but his interested expression never wavered.

"What's it called?" he asked, taking a small step closer.

"Trust me. You wouldn't want to go there," you replied with a self-deprecating laugh, knowing Franco wouldn't be interested in the casual, country bar you worked at.

"Still, I’m curious," he asked, the same flirtatious tone in his voice. “Besides, I’m more interested in the service.”

"It's called Buck Wild," you said with a small laugh, watching his expression for any sign of judgment. “It’s a very Texan country bar.”

"I think I'd learn to like it," he teased with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, you noticed. “When do you work there?”

"Tuesdays and Fridays," you answered, still smiling, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his continued interest.

He nodded, clearly thinking. "I leave on Thursday..." he muttered to himself, his voice soft and thoughtful as he created a mental plan. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with possibility.

Your heart began to race, and a warm blush crept up your neck. The way he was looking at you, the casual tone of his voice, the fact that he was even asking about your work schedule—it all pointed to something more than just a typical chat with a fan. You found yourself hyper-aware of every detail: the way his polo shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, how he kept shifting slightly closer to you, the warmth in his dark eyes.

Then, reality crashed back in as you remembered why you had actually approached him. The hat for your dad was still tucked away in your bag.

"I-I know you probably have to go soon, but before you leave, could you sign this for me?" you asked, pulling the hat out of your bag. Your fingers trembled slightly as you handed it to him.

He smiled warmly and took the sharpie and hat from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. "Wow, you've got quite a few signatures already, huh?" He examined the other drivers' signatures with interest.

Franco signed the hat, moving slowly, almost like he was savoring the moment, stretching out the conversation. His signature was deliberate and careful, unlike the rushed autographs you'd seen him give to other fans earlier.

You smiled and explained, "I'm trying to get Lewis and Checo too. They're my dad's favorite drivers." Your voice softened when you mentioned your father, and Franco seemed to notice.

"Ah, Good taste," he said, nodding. Then, his expression shifted slightly. He glanced at the hat, pausing. A look of realization and minor panic appears on his face. 

“Wait,” he gestures to the hat “This isn’t for you?” 

“No, it’s a gift for my dad,” you explain “Why?” 

You look down at the hat in his hands and see his scrawled out signature. Underneath you see something else he had started to write. “+54 2322…” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what he'd done. "Joder," he muttered under his breath, quickly scribbling over the numbers, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Despite his embarrassment, you noticed he didn't step away.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, a warm smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. The moment felt surreal—here was Franco Colapinto, Formula 1 driver, getting flustered while trying to give you his phone number on what he thought was your hat.

"I can just give you mine," you said shyly, still flustered but charmed by his awkward attempt.

Franco pulled out his phone, opened a new contact, and handed it to you. His phone was warm from being in his pocket, and you noticed his lock screen was a picture of his dog. Just as you were typing in your name and number, his phone buzzed with a message: 'Where are you, mate? Meeting started ten minutes ago.'

Franco's eyes widened with panic, and you could tell he was starting to realize just how much time he'd spent talking to you instead of attending his meeting. The easy conversation had made you both lose track of time completely. You handed him back his phone, but before you could say anything, he quickly added, "Let me give you my number too."

You began fumbling through your purse for your phone, your fingers clumsy with nervous energy, but before you could find it, you were interrupted by a loud voice from the Williams garage.

"Franco! Stop flirting and get over here. You're late, and James is pissed!" the mechanic yelled, his voice cutting through the paddock's ambient noise.

Franco looked over, frustration and guilt crossing his face in quick succession. "Sorry," he muttered to you, grabbing the sharpie back from your hand and hastily scribbling his number on your arm. His touch was gentle despite his hurry, and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Before you could even react, he gently handed you back the sharpie. "I'll see you around..." he said with a wink and a grin, before turning and jogging off toward the Williams garage. You watched him go, admiring how he somehow managed to make even a rushed exit look graceful.

You stood there for a moment, your heart racing, the cool sharpie mark on your arm tingling where his fingers had just been. The numbers were slightly smudged but still legible, and you couldn't help but trace them with your finger.  You smiled to yourself, looking forward to the next time you'd see him and happy with the most special signature you’d gotten that day.

✩₊˚.⋆ all work belongs to formulaisa. please don’t modify, translate, or share my writing, and don’t feed it to AI.

[elodieunderglass]

Hello and hi there. In relation to Jockeys working every day of the week, I find myself unable to figure out how they have any kind of life around that. When do they go to the dentist? How do they shop for groceries? For the love of all that’s holy when do they take comfy mid-afternoon naps when the sun warms your skin and the kitties snore gently on your chest??

I’m beginning to suspect Jockeys may be a sort of mimic species that only kind of approximates a human person but misses the mark on a few key characteristics. If they spend all morning riding horses, hours after that exercising, and hours driving to and from races - I honestly don’t know how they have time or energy for anything.

“When you factor in early-morning work, extensive mileage, financial uncertainty and the significant physical and mental challenges of being a jockey, it’s arguably the most challenging of professional sports for an athlete.” - Dale Gibson, executive director of the PJA

Dashboard-saving cut with a long story explaining that they are more-or-less-willingly consumingly bonkers, but would like a bit 🤏 more time off than they feel they can take.

🏇

Ah, the majority of jockeys in the UK cleverly solve those problems by not keeping their own teeth or eating! and certainly not having a life are freelancers! They can decline any of an agent’s requests to work, and if they do exercising and training work for a trainer in the mornings, they can arrange to have days where they don’t. As freelancers, they have no paid holiday, but it’s technically up to them (Studies show that jockeys choose to maximise their work until forcibly stopped, BUT technically they have the choice).

It’s a little unclear to me how retained/contracted stable jockeys make their arrangements as the UK equine industry seems to be bundled with agricultural/farm work and farm contractors have different rules, but they’re pretty rare, and they also blur the line between work and life a huge amount. Generational jockeys often do it as part of a family business, living in proximity with the rest of their family in the industry, blurring the line between work/life further.

They all seem to report stress and anxiety that they also feel at home. lots of jockeys who aren’t contracted, generational or married-with-kids live in houses full of their rivals (1). Jockeys with kids report the difficulty of seeing them “without a horse involved” (1) and female staff with caring responsibilities report that most jobs in horse racing are completely incompatible with any sort of work-life balance (5).

Jockeys do find it extremely hard to turn down work when it’s offered, though, as described in this study (1) - not only for the pure financial reasons of needing income, maintaining momentum, and not losing your mounts, although those are the first considerations …

… but also to advertise themselves as being particularly “fashionable” purchases - lucky, tough, and always ready to earn you lots of money:

“Like a toy” is really saying the quiet part out loud.

but there’s a positive side to this! In 2020, lockdown travel restrictions meant jockeys were limited to attending one race meeting per day within the UK. The meetings are still far apart, and there’s between 6-8 races per meeting, so it’s still hard work, but jockeys couldn’t then go on to do another meeting on the other side of the country within that day.

About 70% of jockeys were happy with this external rule being imposed, because it helped them resist external/agent/employer pressure to hit multiple racetracks a day - now it’s out of their hands. The rule is under review, and a rolling extension means it’s actually still under effect! Realistically, they’re still travelling relentlessly, but now they can resist pressure for adding night races and evening meetings when they’ve already worked somewhere else that day, a pressure that jockeys reported as “frying their heads” (1).

And the answer to what they did with this slightly freed time is: have fewer car accidents and eat dinner. (3)

They still drive too much, but the answer to “what do jockeys do if you don’t make them work night shifts on top of day shifts?” is “well! they eat dinner”.

They would like a humble bit of time off for fun, though! Although a jockey saying he didn’t feel they “needed to be working” on Sunday nights was considered so brave and unusual that he got newspaper coverage (4):

“We might get a couple of hundred quid extra in our pockets or whatever, but I don’t think (night racing on Sunday) is healthy. I won’t be able to go and watch the football with my dad, things like that, and if this becomes a regular thing, which it will, you just cross the brink [to] having absolutely no work/life balance.

“I don’t think it’s right, but my desire to ride winners, and my desire to ride for David [Simcock, Charlie’s Choice’s trainer] outweighs that and it has to as a rider, with the dedication it requires. It’s not an option not to come, so I’ll always be available to them, but I don’t think we should be here at 8.30pm on a Sunday night.”

In conclusion, they’d like Sunday nights off, and they like it when licensing bodies take things out of their hands. They need a union are bonkers, but don’t need to be THIS bonkers.

This is why sports medicine researchers study jockeys like laboratory mice, though.

🐁 👩‍🔬

Fascinating

References

(Nobody needs to read these, it’s just so I don’t feel like I’m making stuff up)

1. “A lifestyle rather than a job: a review and recommendations on mental health support within the British horse racing industry” (2019)

2. Stressors experienced by professional jockeys (2021)

3. talking Horses: Jockeys seeing benefits of one race meeting per day (2020)

4.) Talking Horses: Sunday night races may result in serious jockey burnout (2024)

5) WORK-LIFE BALANCE & CARING IN HORSERACING: Women in Racing summary of pilot survey (2023)

[strialternatives]

You mentioned in the tags of I think your comic of Akira and Akechi traveling that Akechi is first-aid certified in multiple countries. Does this mean something to any headcanon’s you have about what his adult life would be like? I love your palace au and i’m really interested in how he recovers afterwards!!

If it was just a joke then you don’t have to answer :)

that actually wasn't a joke! :D it started off as a "taking care of akira" investment that got outta hand ya see-

some background first! in my head shuake wind up traveling after Akechi's physical therapy and Akira takes an "extended leave" from uni then just. never goes back.

they travel China, then Thailand--near all the countries in east asia. at first, its about putting some distance between themselves and tokyo and all that metaverse ptsd baggage no one wants to acknowledge or talk about-

not that they don't have talks. they talk a lot, they have a lot of hard talks in hotel rooms, during quiet moments, about everything and nothing at all. akira is devastated to learn that his future husband is a dog person.

then, literally as they're about to book the plane back to tokyo, after months and months of travels and late night talks--akira offhandedly, mentions that he's always wanted to visit paris.

there's no reason for them not to. akira has an absurd amount of metaverse money, akechi has the key to a good chunk of shido's offshore assets. akira picks up languages quickly thanks to his personas and so does akechi.

and it kinda spirals from there. after that they only drop by tokyo for holidays and planned thief get-togethers.

akira's the type of wild card that picks up confidants everywhere he goes, he likes to help the people he connects with, and sometimes that comes with dangerous situations and hospital visits.

(the two of them are nosy, reckless and don't know how to mind their own business to save their lives. and akira is so kind to others and willing to help and his and akechi loves and hates him for it so, sooo much.)

at first akechi learns how to patch (his) idiot up for his own peace of mind, its manageable, he's used to patching up real world wounds. his initial mementos explorations were full of trial and error, after all.

--then there's this awful business with the russian mob that akira's gotten involved with during that part-time bodyguard gig protecting some small time lawyer's child during a court case and, well. he's two years in, somewhere between learning how to suture a stab wound from an underground doctor and looking up tameki-san again,

akechi realizes he's in this for the long haul. that he has to--unfortunately--lock in.

and he's GOOD at it, akechi likes being good at things.

he's not planning on being a doctor or anything, can't stay in one place long enough for a degree. but, picking up certifications still scratches an itch he wasn't aware he had. to heal instead of hurt--it helps that it starts with akira.

anyway, sometimes when he's bored and they're in one place for more than two weeks he'll go hit up foreign clinics who need a temp helper.

[dearest-nell]

turbulence

e. munson x reader, 1.7k

summary: you and eddie are taking your first real vacation together, but the turbulence of the flight is enough to make anyone regret their mode of travel includes: established reader x eddie, eddie being a comfort king, just a bunch of sweetness all round warnings: flight warnings, stormy skies, reader is terrified of flying and the flight is a bit rocky. no real danger.

a/n: shoutout to random images on pinterest for inspiring this one

How the hell you’d thought that this was a good idea was anyone’s guess. 

The idea had been so simple; you and Eddie had run yourselves into the ground to save up for your first overseas trip – his first one ever. Well… not quite overseas, though Eddie had very decidedly announced that Hawaii counted all the same. It had come from a thousand nights of cheap noodle dinners and canned tuna to garnish, leaving you sure that you never again would touch a pack of the grimy stuff. Double shifts and weekend overtime earned you enough money to get you to the airport, an excitable Eddie half trembling with the thrill of the journey. 

He’d been up almost the entire night before tossing and turning, eager hands squeezing at your waist as he tried his best not to wake you. Restlessness was par for the course with him, but even more so, this trip had him vibrating on an entirely new frequency. He’d never been out of state until he met you, had never seen a plane any larger than the size of his thumb held comparatively to the sky. The best part, though, was that he was getting to share this all with you. His life had been a constant stream of new experiences, a high he’d never had the pleasure of knowing until he felt what it was like to be loved so wholeheartedly by another. There was nothing so thrilling to him as the idea of basking in the sun with you, blissfully drunk and happily snuggled on a shared beachside lounge. 

Discount resort be damned, you’d been savvy in finding the best bargain the travel agent could offer. Eddie had never thought frugal spending could be so fucking sexy before. 

You, however, could not share his excitement with equal merriment. Sure, the holiday part sounded like a dream, and all of Eddie’s wishful thinking and imaginings had made you fall even more in love with the idea. Getting there, however, was another story, because unlike Eddie, you had been on a plane before. One time too many, if anyone were to ask. 

You did not like the small spaces, the recycled air, the uniform packaged meals that all somehow tasted like plastic. There was never enough room, always too much noise, and worst of all, nowhere to go. Every plane trip was spent with you counting down the minutes until your feet touched solid ground once more, a sensation you somehow seemed to forget with every passing travel until the next occurred. 

The dread had begun to build inside the airport, your hand clasped rigidly around the strap of Eddie’s backpack, his movements and your directions guiding your joined bodies through the chaos. If he knew something was wrong, he did not dare to comment. You were quieter than usual, after all, but it was easy enough to chalk that up to the obnoxiously early flight you were catching. It was cheaper that way, and you could sleep on the plane, you’d justified to yourself. The hour was enough to quieten even the most talkative of beings, twilight skies lulling Eddie to a gentle drawl as he rattled on about your upcoming adventures. 

Now that you were on the plane, though, it seemed all the worse. You’d been so brave through the takeoff, chewing on a pack of gum until your jaw ached from the tension, your hand tucked firmly under Eddie’s on the seat rest. You’d given him the window, his delight at the magic of flight distracting you enough until you were safely coasting through the sky. 

Eddie had chosen to sleep not long after, his head pressed to the wall of the plane despite the low rumbles, a position that could not conceivably be comfortable to anyone but Eddie. He could sleep anywhere, you’d learned early on in your relationship, and it seemed planes were no exception. You, however, were wide awake, trying your best to lose yourself in a book and suppress that nauseating feeling slowly taking over. 

It was within the hour that the turbulence began, gentle rumblings of the plane triggering that hazy green seatbelt sign to ignite. The captain warned that it would likely get worse before it got better, a thought that only exacerbated your growing anxieties. Eddie somehow slept through it all, even as the aircraft began to tremble and jolt. You didn’t want to wake him, not when he was sleeping so comfortably, still dreaming of all the good things to come. It felt silly to be frightened by such a small thing. Planes were safe, you knew that, but that seemed to be the trouble with anxiety; logic never mattered when the fear was so heightened. 

It was only when a terrified squeak left your lips that Eddie’s eyes flew open, his body shooting up rigidly in reaction to the sound. He’d have heard it anywhere, that terror, his body conditioned into a state of protection for you. The back of his hand wiped lazily at the sleep in his eyes, his body turning to face you on instinct. 

“What’s wrong? You okay?” You could hear the exhaustion that tinged his words, his eyes softening as he took in the fright in your own. 

“Its–” Your voice drowned out under the weight of thunder, the jolt leaving the tray tables to rattle in its aftermath. You couldn’t make your words come out, your lips hanging open in a frozen cry. 

Eddie did not need the clarification. He had never thought to consider you, his brave, sweet creature might have such fears, leaving guilt to turn sour in his mouth as it settled across him, knowing he had left you to face your fears alone. “Oh, sweetheart.” The solidity of his arms encased around you, tucking you gently into the curve of his side, hand cradling the back of your skull and the small of your back to shield you from the rest of the plane. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

“We’re going to die.” You whined, lilting in devastation into the fabric of his shirt. 

Eddie tried not to chuckle, his smile itching with amusement. “We’re not gonna die. We’re gonna be fine.” 

“We’re literally going to die.” You tried again, clinging to him until your knuckles were an ashen, bone white. 

Another jolt of the plane had you wincing, forcing Eddie to lift his gaze and observe your surroundings. Other than a few anxious fliers, most of the passengers were beyond asleep, tucked neatly into their own rows of the plane. No one else had much cause for alarm, the crew were muddling along their usual routes with a look of calm that even a professional could not fake. 

He dropped his attention back to you, slowly prying you from his side just enough to lift the armrest from between you, a reassuring arm scooping you now closer than before into his embrace. He could feel the tremble in your body as you burrowed your way into his side, trying to block out every other sensation but the feel of his body against yours. 

“You wanna know how I know that we’re not gonna die?” He asked assuredly, cupping at the base of your skull to prop your head against his shoulder, his grip firm and grounding in all the ways that were so incredibly Eddie. He felt you nod, hair slipping through the gaps of his fingers with every movement. 

“Because the crew aren’t panicking. No one’s brushin’ up on procedure or trying to wake everyone up. They're not at emergency stations. I’m pretty sure half of them are gossiping over there, can you see?” 

He lifted his hand to point, watching as your gaze followed the extension of his index finger, your lower lip dragging between your teeth to chew upon nervously. They all looked so calm, exchanging little whispered comments until one gentleman threw his head back in a silent laugh, shaking his head at his co-worker. 

“If we were gonna die,” Eddie continued, calloused fingers dipping between the layers of fabric at your waist to rub at your skin, letting the heat of his body lull you into further comfort, “then they’d be movin’ a hell of a lot faster than that, right? We’re gonna be fine, so you don’t gotta worry bout a thing.” 

He could see the contemplation simmering in your eyes, weighing up your fears with his logic, trying to discern where he line was. It was no easy thing to overcome a fear, especially one like this, but he loved you just for trying, even if your trembling figure only settled a little in his embrace. 

“Could you hold me anyways? Just until it goes away.” You turned to him with such sincerity, eyes widened and imploring in your gaze. 

He softened a reassuring smile in return, reaching to hook your legs over the nearer of his own, draping your body over his in whatever way these budget seats would allow. “I’m not letting you go, honey, not for a minute. I’ll hold you all the way there, so just settle in. We’re gonna get through it together.” 

As tired as he was, as muddled as he sure felt, Eddie did not mind staying up just to give you that peace of mind. His head fell back into the headrest, propping him up to keep watchful gaze on the comings and goings around him. It took the responsibility off you, feeling assured that he was there to spot if something went wrong along the way. Somehow, with his gentle movements across the expanse of your back and his steady, rhythmic heartbeat thrumming just beside your ear, you slipped out of consciousness, the exhaustion of this already long day finally dragging you under. 

Eddie was only able to notice once the turbulence subsided, expecting you to perk up with a surveying glance, only to find the rise and fall of your chest slow and drowsy against his own. He pressed chapped lips to your forehead, letting his own eyelids hang low as his vision faded drearily. He could sleep now, satisfied with the idea that neither of you would wake again until your hard earned landing was in sight.

[cushfuddled]

I saw a post which claimed since Americans are spending unprecedented amounts of money on holiday gifts this year [1][2]...

the American public isn't actually as strapped for cash as we say or think we are, and

Americans didn’t vote for Trump out of economic frustration.

Like.

I hope you guys know Americans aren't splurging on gifts because we can afford to do so.

The majority of Americans live paycheck to paycheck [3], and yet vacations are on the rise, with Millennials and Gen Z-ers at the front of the trend. [4][5]

It’s not excess capital. It’s nihilism.[6][7][8]

"If you work hard and save your money, someday you can buy a house/raise a family/retire." So goes the conventional wisdom, now fine viscera under the wheels of an Amazon forklift. Even older generations can't afford to retire these days [9]. You can buy a shed for the price of a master's degree. And how are you supposed to raise a child when your full-time job barely covers your grocery bills?

Knowing they'll never travel as a retiree, people are splurging on plane tickets right out of school. Knowing class mobility is a lottery pull, people are dumping their last few pennies into meme tokens and other get-rich-quick schemes. Knowing they're already saddled with lifelong debt, people are saying "fuck it" and grabbing a shovel—because at this point, what's a car payment on top of every other loan they'll never repay? "Things will keep getting worse anyway."

Americans are spending stupid amounts of money on vacations [10] and extravagant gifts [11], yes—but they're not spending THEIR money. They're spending Klarna's money, and the bank's money, and when the bills come due people aren't paying them. We're all just doing kickflips on our way down the drain.

The question, "How does killing the UnitedHealthCare CEO solve anything?" misses the point. The shooter may have believed he was doing the American people a favor, but I don't think the majority of Americans are cheering on Brian's death because they believe it will manifest universal healthcare. It's just nice to see the rich criminals who profit off our pain suffer for their choices.

Even if the Dems had acknowledged our financial straits (I find Atrioc's video "Slowly, Then All at Once" to be very helpful re: why the numbers look good but nobody can afford to live)...I still don't think Kamala Harris would've won the presidency. Again, Americans don't believe progress is possible anymore—at least not via our current system of government. Extremists are banking on a wholesale descent into anarchy. Your everyday worker is distracting themselves from impending financial implosion with daily Beverages (I'm stopping here to take a sip of my Rockstar energy drink). Hope is a heavy burden. Instead, people keep their eyes on their feet. One day at a time. Sometimes on its way to the brick wall, their speeding car hits a CEO—and sometimes it mows down a crowd of schoolchildren. Sometimes we're all just trashing the bathroom.

That's Donald Trump's presidential win, to me. Let the horse take over the hospital, America declared—why not, if none of us can afford a hospital visit anyway. Let the nation descend into anarchy and fascism—why not, if we never had rights/liberty to begin with.

It's not logical. It's lashing out in pain like a cornered animal.

The rule of law doesn't apply to the wealthy, as emblemized by our incumbent president's 34 felony charges. It punishes the marginalized by design, for the benefit of corrupt institutions. Harris would've given us a chance to get back on our feet...but with her centrist prosecutorial approach, she represents the law. Donald Trump represents chaos. He's a champion of the CEOs who bankrupt and maim and kill us, but as a certifiable toddler with no object permanence and a suitcase full of ketchup packets and nuclear launch codes, he's also a fucking nightmare to babysit around the White House. That's the best some people can hope for in this country: To give their tormentors a headache. To "trigger the libs." To treat their representatives to the smallest taste of their own helplessness and hopelessness and fear and anger and pain.

People do not have money. People do not have hope. People do not have compassion.

I don't feel any sympathy for Trump voters, and I don't mean to minimize the role of bigotry in this election. This country was founded on genocide and slavery, and that legacy still permeates our culture. I only mean to explain—not excuse—some of this group's behavior. It's a trend suffered on all sides of the aisle: Nihilism externalized as sabotage, whether directed at oneself or others. People are so sick of watching this boat sink into the ocean they've set it on fire just to feel like they had a say in it.

[cepheustarot]

What awaits you in January?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: The first half of the month will be wonderful for you, in general you will have a good mood and no sudden mood swings, this month you will have a good opportunity to start something new, change something in your life, change of scenery. It is also very likely that you will receive an expensive gift from someone, you can get a bonus at work or you will improve your academic performance and you will pass all important tests for good grades, in general success will be waiting for you. Further, in the middle of the month you will be invited to some event, it may be a wedding or someone’s birthday (maybe yours) or any other holiday. This event will be very good for you, you will get many positive emotions and pleasant memories, it will be a very fun event. At the end of the month you will feel a breakdown, maybe the whole month you will have a busy event and it will wear you out, you will get tired, so it will be very important at the end of the month to give yourself a rest and clear  your head. You may also have unforeseen circumstances that you were not prepared for, so be careful! 

Pile 2: At the beginning of the month you will be successful in career/studies, you can be promoted or transferred to a larger firm, in general there will be positive changes. As for study, you will learn a lot and try, because your work will pay off and you will have good grades. Also at the beginning of the month there will be the possibility to engage in self-development or something creative, maybe you will also teach and train someone, will be in the role of a mentor. At the beginning of the month you will also have good unexpected news! In the middle of the month you will continue to maintain your energy and productivity, there will be events that are not related to work or school: you may have many meetings with people, friends or you will receive invitations to the party, Take part in organizing activities and etc. You can also do dance or any other sport, any other active activity. The end of the month will be stable for you, but here it will be best to pay attention to your budget, you should start saving money to feel safe in unforeseen situations. 

Pile 3: The beginning of the month will be busy, you will feel like a real workaholic, the days will be productive for you. It is important to keep in mind that success depends on you and how much you put in to achieve it. In addition, for you here will be a topical painstaking activity, requiring increased attention to detail. In the middle of the month you will be successful, you will come much closer to achieving your goals and plans, you can also go on a trip in mid-January or start traveling. In general, everything will be related to movement, maybe you buy a new transport or get a driver’s license. So the end of the month will be energetic for you and you will be in good spirits, maybe you will often go to parties, dates, meet people and spend time with them, or maybe you will try yourself as a host or participate, try acting, maybe take acting classes. Here in any case you will be in the center of attention, you will develop your charisma. 

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flirts IV

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You have to go

It's not that you don't want to be there because you do.

It's that you have to go away for a surgery.

There's some rich woman in California who needs you to operate on her cat. She's paying an extortionate amount for your services and sending a private jet to pick you up.

You love those kinds of pet owners, the ones with enough money to fly in the very best if only because of the clear love they have for all of their pets.

But they're also clients you can't deny.

If someone wants to fly you out for enough money to keep a family afloat for a year, someone with enough influence to make or break anybody's career, you can't say no.

Even if your girlfriend is fighting for Euro's qualification.

"Do you have to go?" Mapi asks, sitting inside of your unpacked suitcase like she was Bagheera in a box.

Honey sits on the bed, head in her paws as she waits, tail wagging, for Mapi to throw her tennis ball.

"Yes," You say, trying to choose between your purple or your blue scrubs," It's a lot of money. Enough for that fancy holiday to the Maldives you guys want to take."

"But it takes you away from us," Mapi whines and Ingrid makes an agreeing noise from over by the door.

"I've travelled for work before."

"You're going to miss my match," Ingrid says and a pit forms in your stomach.

Before this job came up, you and Mapi were meant to be travelling to Norway to see Ingrid's last Euro Qualifiers game before going off in a camper van with her parents.

You'd still make it to the last part, depending on what the labs for this cat came back as but you'd have to miss the match.

You reach out for her, drawing her closer by the waist and resting your head on her chest.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I am, really. I can call up and cancel if you really want me to. I know a guy to recommend instead."

Ingrid sighs, her chin sitting on the top of your head. "No," She says," That cat needs the best care possible. We all know you're the best. Go and be a hero."

"I'd hardly be a hero. It's just surgery."

"Surgery for some woman that clearly adores her pet cat. What you do saves lives. I think that makes you a hero."

"You're so sweet, Ingrid."

"And hot!"

You laugh. "Thanks for that, Mapi. I'm sure she knows that seeing as you tell her everyday."

Mapi shrugs with a smirk on her face. "I'm sure it's nice to be reminded."

Honey whines on the bed and you roll your eyes.

"Throw the ball already. She's getting impatient."

Mapi frowns, waving the ball around.

Honey's eyes dart around erratically to follow it.

"She isn't barking, though?"

You laugh, crossing the space to take the ball and lay a soft kiss on Mapi's lips. "Because she's well-behaved, Mapi. She knows not to bark unless it's an emergency."

You throw the ball up and down to make sure Honey's still watching before you launch it out of the room.

She's off like a shot as Ingrid hauls Mapi out of your suitcase.

You still feel guilty though, through the flight, through the labs, through everything.

The cat is cute one, a little tortoiseshell with an amicable nature and a complete lack of awareness of her surroundings.

You've always been an animal person. You've always loved all of them but living with Mapi and Ingrid has just given you an even newer appreciation for cats.

The checkup happens quickly and the labs are already done and completed by the time you arrive.

Money really does move things along because all the charts are perfect and after what should have been a week long wait to begin, you manage to take a day to get over your jetlag and get to work immediately the day after.

Surgery is simple to you. It's easy and soon enough the cat is halfway to recovery.

You don't quite understand how private planes are hired and sent out, if someone has to book a runway days in advance or if they're open indefinitely.

The original plan had been for you to take a week to do this but now it's all done, you don't quite know what to do with yourself apart from stew in guilt.

You had planned to take your mind off Ingrid's game by throwing yourself into work.

You have no work though and can't help but imagine yourself in Norway with your girlfriends, curled up in Mapi's arms while Ingrid whispers to you.

You swipe away a tear as you head down for dinner, your host gracious enough to treat you to a meal for all your good work.

You've gone radio silent to your girlfriends but neither are surprised.

You're always like that when you go out of the country for work, focused only on your patient. You want no distractions.

Mapi sits slumped in her seat next to Ingrid watching Norway play their last qualifier, sighing to herself as she looks at pictures of the three of you together.

"What's with the pout?" Ingrid teases, running her thumb over Mapi's jutted out bottom lip.

"I miss her," Mapi mutters, feeling a bit like a little kid sulking.

"I know but she'll be here soon and then we go out exploring with my parents before heading back home for preseason. It's not that long of a wait."

"I don't want to wait at all."

"I know but-"

A body slumps down on Mapi's other side and both of them turn.

"I'm not really a fan of this hotdog," You say," It's not bad but I guess I'm not that hungry. Do you want some Mapi?"

You don't get an answer from her because she crushes you into a hug. The hotdog that you regrettably bought squishes between your bodies.

You don't complain though, especially when Ingrid moves into the hug as well, tightening her grip around the both of you.

"I thought you couldn't make it?"

"Money talks," You tease," And the owner felt a bit of pity when I told her that I'd have to watch this match on tv. Chartered a jet for me to come straight here."

"And the cat?" Mapi asks.

"The cat's good. Recovering."

"I'm so happy you're here."

"We're both happy," Ingrid says," So, so happy."

You grin at your girls, the smiling splitting your face.

"I'm happy to be here too."

[literalite]

marlo velasco for @rainymoodlet's rock of love!

hii formally introducing marlo after showing them in cas first lmao i'll stick all their info and some bonus pics under the cut :3

they're filipino, nonbinary (using they/them pronouns), and androsexual- for simplicity's sake they sometimes just say they're gay

traits: erratic, hot-headed, creative likes: alternative and metal music, competency, a good discussion, wellness, getting everything just right, being praised(.......), a good visual contrast, travelling, friendly competition, hard workers, vintage artwork, and of course tattoos fhgjhkjkl dislikes: modern decor, elitism, people who lack drive or who follow tradition, being told what to do, stupid questions, green eyes, makeup, phones or cameras or honestly most modern technology, softening their tone in any way, uncomfortable shoes

quick well that was a fucking lie bio:

only child to two very conservative parents, had a very testy relationship with them both throughout their teens and young adulthood. currently no contact with them both

learnt how to tattoo in their teens and joined a tattoo and piercing shop as an apprentice at 21. they met both their ex husband and their current best friend, risa there

married their ex at 25, was truly in love with him despite being deeply unhappy in other aspects of life

came out and began transitioning at 29, which strained their marriage as he tried and failed to accept their true self as opposed to the "woman" he had signed up for

he convinced them to try for having a kid in order to save their relationship shocker, that did not work so mickey was born

after three years they divorced- admittedly marlo was not a stellar parent and left mickey mostly in her father's care while they moved on from working at the original tattoo shop, eventually seeing their kid for only a weekend per month

at 35 opened their new shop Purgatory Tattoos with their best friend risa as co-owner

two years ago, they got a call in the middle of the night, from their ex who immediately started shouting down the line at them for "corrupting" their 11 year old into thinking that she's a girl. they immediately drove the few hours to go pick mickey up and filed for custody the morning after

marlo's relationship with mickey was initially understandably pretty rocky, with marlo being really awkward around their own daughter and mickey obviously being distrustful of them. in years since, they've grown a lot closer, with marlo now really appreciating the work it takes to raise a kid. they're still very anxious about being a "good" parent though, having totally lacked for any role models

has sort of dated around since breaking up with their husband, but hasn't been able to commit to anything serious what with their focus on keeping their business running and the residual sting of a long and painful loss both emotionally and financially from their ex

signed up for this at risa's insistence and also thinking that it'd be nice for mickey to grow up with a more stable and loving environment than they did

fun facts:

they're pretty much tone deaf but nevertheless enthusiastic about karaoke much to their neighbours' detriment

for their employees and apprentices, they're known as kind of a hardass, especially in comparison to risa, but being under their guidance improves skills x10

lactose intolerant but im not wasting a trait slot on that LMAO

used to have piercings, but took their facial ones out years ago because they'd all been done by their ex- all the holes have since closed up

has pretty much no social media presence aside from their shop's instagram account, on which they've got no photos of themselves, not even a candid in the background of a shot. doesnt know wtf a tiktok is even though mick keeps begging them to do dances with her?

can't imagine moving away from tomarang even though they love travelling overseas. a big goal is getting enough money together to take mickey on a big holiday abroad

here are some pics of them and their daughter, mickey! she's 13, trans, she/her pronouns. due to their long estrangement, mickey calls them "lo" instead of any other term

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting tubal ligation, eloping with my two girlfriends, adopting a cat and moving out, all in two weeks and without telling my mother?

🏥💍🐈🏠

So, I (F, 21) have been planning for a long time to sort out my life. I live in a European country, I'm in college and work part-time. For years, I've been saving up money to get financially independent as fast as possible and move out of my parents' apartment. I also wanted to have enough to pay for tubal ligation procedure, because I don't ever want children and would feel much more at ease when I'm certain that I can't physically get pregnant. My mother from the beginning was very against that idea, telling me I'll change my mind later and not to do anything permanent.

Two years ago, I've met two wonderful women, A (26) and K (23) on a discord server dedicated to our shared hobby (writing fanfiction). We'd been talking and messaging for months, eventually creating our own server and sharing our irl names and faces. It naturally progressed to a point where we chose to call it a relationship (I'm on the aroace spectrum, we're all neurodivergent and have a weird relationships with gender so it's not a traditional romantic/sexual relationship by any means). We're all from the same country so we met up a few times before deciding to all move to one city and live together. K and I are finishing our bachelor's degrees and A works from home so there weren't any obstacles. We found a flat and A moved in, waiting for me and K.

My mother knew I was bisexual and dating A and K, but thought again that it was "just a phase" and that we were only friends pretending to date for some reason. I love my parents, they are great and supportive people but sometimes it can be so exhausting to convince them of something when they believe they're absolutely right. So, I just stopped talking to my mother about my relationship and plans for the future. I visited A (and K after she moved in) in our apartment without permanently staying there yet.

A, K and I got an idea to celebrate us finishing college and A getting a job promotion by going abroad for a week. K jokingly suggested that we could visit another country and get married (gay marriage is still illegal in our country). Obviously, polyamorous marriages are not legal anywhere in Europe, but A told us at the beginning of our relationship that she never wanted to get legally married for personal reasons (but a non-binding marriage ceremony was fine with her). So, all three of us could have a ceremony and K and me could get legally married (the marriage still wouldn't be legally recognized in our country though). Then I also realized that I could get a tubal ligation in the country which we wanted to travel to (tubal ligation procedure is also illegal in our country).

I knew my mother would be against both of those decisions and I didn't want to argue with her the entire time before I left abroad. So, I just told her I'm going on holidays with my two friends for a week and she accepted that. I've also been slowly moving a lot of my stuff from my room in my parents' apartment to our apartment and was ready to completely relocate.

Anyway, the wedding went great (the witnesses were six people we knew from the discord server where we first met, who lived close by and could get to the wedding site easily), my operation went great, the trip was great, and just as we returned a friend asked if we wanted a kitten, because their cat had recently had some. We agreed.

When I was sure everything was settled, I called my mother and told her about the wedding, the operation, the move and the kitten. She was shocked and angry, said she felt disappointed and betrayed I hadn't told her about any of my plans, didn't even invite her to the wedding and that I damaged my body and would regret having my tubes tied. I tried explaining that I didn't know how she would react, that based on our previous interactions I hadn't thought she'd be supportive and that I wanted make my decisions without also having endure her disapproval. She cried, told me I hurt her and to give her some time to deal with all the revelations.

I feel terrible for upsetting my mom, but honestly, I think I did the right thing and that informing her beforehand would've ruined my mood and I'd have had to argue with her on the phone constantly during the trip.

So, Tumblr, AITA?