#i do not know who i am. i do not know how i got here. i only know that i must punch a tree bc the leaf i stepped on didnt cronch enough

[sleepypanda27]

Friendly Fire

Bucky x reader

Summary: Sam exposes Bucky’s obvious crush on you.

Word: 1,3k

The compound was quiet. Too quiet. Which meant you were about to commit a crime.

Not a real crime, just a tiny one. A harmless, innocent late-night snack raid. You tiptoed into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound, reaching for the cupboard handle.

"Really?"

You turned around, startled, finding Bucky leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, looking very unimpressed.

"You scared the hell out of me!" You hissed, pressing a hand to your chest.

He smirked. "You’re terrible at sneaking."

"I wasn’t sneaking."

"You absolutely were." He smiled, walking closer to you.

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the cupboard. "What are you doing up, anyway?"

"Same thing as you," He admitted, stepping closer. "Figured I’d grab something before Wilson wakes up and lectures me about eating properly."

You chuckled. "Well, now that you're here, you might as well make yourself useful."

He arched a brow. "Useful how?"

You gestured at the top shelf. "Grab that."

He sighed but reached up effortlessly, grabbing cookies you couldn’t get to.

You narrowed your eyes. "Showoff."

Bucky smirked, opening the cookie package, taking one out, and he exaggeratedly slowly took a bite.

"You are the worst," You muttered, grabbing a cookie from the package.

"You love it," He teased.

You snorted, but didn’t deny it. For a moment, comfortable silence settled.

Then Bucky glanced at you with a smirk. "We’re gonna get caught, you know."

You shrugged, taking a bite. "Worth it."

"Wow. Look at this."

Both of you froze.

Slowly, you turned, finding Sam standing in the doorway, arms crossed, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Two grown adults, sneaking snacks like criminals," He said, sighing. "Barnes, you should be ashamed."

Bucky groaned, rubbing his temple. "Sam-"

"No, no, don’t ‘Sam’ me." He pointed at both of you. "This is pathetic. You could’ve just eaten like normal people, but no midnight heist. What are you, spies?"

"Well...yeah," Bucky muttered.

Sam ignored that. "And you?" He turned to you, smirking. "Corrupted by Barnes already, huh?"

You sighed, pretending to be apologetic. "Guess I’ve been a bad influence on him."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "No, no, you got it backwards, sweetheart."

Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing cookies. "We’re leaving."

"Running from justice, huh?" Sam teased.

Bucky grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the exit. "We don’t have to listen to him."

"Wait," Sam checked the shelf from which you got cookies. "Are those my cookies?" He called after you. "Thieves!"

You just laughed, following Bucky down the hallway.

---

"You’re terrible at this," Bucky muttered, watching you struggle with the dough. This time, the two of you decided to make cinnamon rolls.

You scoffed, tossing him a glare. "Excuse me?"

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You’re kneading like you’re trying to fight it. It’s dough, not an enemy."

You huffed, turning back to the sticky mess in front of you. "You said I had to be firm!"

"Not aggressive," He corrected. "You look like you’re trying to kill it."

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Maybe if you actually helped-"

Bucky smirked. "And ruin the entertainment?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"I absolutely am." He chuckled, stepping closer to you.

Slowly, casually, you scooped up a bit of flour. "You know, for someone who’s supposedly a trained fighter, you’re way too close right now."

Bucky’s brow furrowed. "What?"

And before he could react, you flicked the flour straight at him. It was beautiful. A perfect explosion of white powder across his dark shirt and face. For one glorious moment, he just stood there, processing. Then his expression darkened.

"You," he muttered, wiping flour from his jaw. "Are in so much trouble."

You shrieked, immediately trying to back away, but he moved faster. In an instant, he grabbed a handful of flour and smeared it against your cheek, grinning at your stunned reaction.

"You did not just,"

"Oh, I did."

You lunged for another handful, and just like that, chaos erupted.

Flour flew everywhere onto counters, into hair, across shirts. You were laughing, dodging him, while Bucky, the incredibly skilled fighter, was apparently terrible at avoiding kitchen warfare.

By the time Sam walked in, he stared at the disaster in complete horror. "What the hell happened here?"

You and Bucky were breathless, covered in flour, smirking at each other like two kids who had just gotten caught.

Sam sighed. "I don’t even wanna know. But Barnes," He shook his head, walking out. "Just tell her, man."

"Ignore him." Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his flour-covered face.

You just laughed, but you wanted to know what he meant.

---

The compound's kitchen was quiet until Sam decided to stir up trouble.

You were sitting across from Bucky at the table, quietly sipping coffee, when Sam decided today was the day to ruin Bucky Barnes' life.

"You know, man," Sam said, leaning against the counter, smirking at Bucky, "you’re not exactly subtle."

Bucky, sitting across from you, froze mid-sip.

You raised an eyebrow. "Subtle about what?"

Sam grinned like a man who lived for chaos. "You."

Bucky’s jaw clenched warningly. "Sam."

You blinked, confused. "Me?"

Sam turned back to Bucky, absolutely enjoying himself. "Look at you, all stiff and silent, pretending you don’t have a full-blown crush sitting right there."

Bucky exhaled sharply, gripping his coffee mug so tightly that you were sure it was seconds away from cracking.

"I do not-" He muttered.

"Oh, buddy," Sam interrupted, shaking his head. "You do. The way you watch her when she walks into the room? The way you get all weirdly protective? And let’s not forget the time you lost your mind when she got hit during training."

Bucky shot up from his chair. "I was concerned!"

"You were dramatic," Sam corrected.

You stared between the two men, heat rising to your cheeks. Bucky Barnes, former assassin, impossible grump, had a crush on you?

Bucky dragged a hand down his face. "Sam, I swear, I will-"

"What?" Sam taunted. "Kill me? Finally admit you like her?"

Bucky looked half ready to commit a crime. But before he could, Sam pushed off the counter, laughing. "Relax, man. I'm just saying that maybe you should stop glaring at me and do something about it."

Then, with an obnoxious wink at you, he walked out. You sat there, awkwardly clutching your coffee cup, very aware that Bucky was still standing.

"...So," you said, glancing at him. "You have a crush on me?"

Bucky groaned. "Ignore Sam. He likes ruining my life."

You smiled. "But…was he wrong?"

Silence.

Bucky rubbed his temple, sighed, and finally looked at you. "I hate him," he muttered. "But no. He wasn’t wrong."

Your heart stuttered.

Slowly, you set your coffee down. "So… what do we do about that?"

Bucky was silent for one long second. He hesitated, but only for a second. Then, he moved.

His hand reached up, fingers grazing your cheek like he was memorizing the feel of your skin. His touch was careful, uncertain, but when his thumb traced the edge of your jaw, you leaned into it. That was all he needed.

He slightly tilted his head, closed the distance, and kissed you. It started soft, hesitant, like he was afraid to break you, but the moment you melted into him, everything changed.

The tension, the months of stolen moments and unsaid words, came crashing down all at once. His lips pressed firmer against yours, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you closer like he’d been waiting, aching, for this.

And you kissed him back with everything you had, gripping his jacket, letting him swallow the breathless sound you made when he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. The world blurred.

It was just heat, hands, Bucky, the quiet realization that this was exactly where you wanted to be.

"FINALLY!"

You jerked away, breathless, turning toward the hallway where Sam stood, grinning like a damn idiot.

Bucky groaned, burying his face against your shoulder. "I am going to kill him."

You laughed, still catching your breath, still feeling the phantom imprint of Bucky’s lips.

"Took you long enough, Barnes." Sam just shook his head, victorious.

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (5) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: It’s Career Day at school, and your boyfriend, who was supposed to talk about his job as a lawyer, cancels at the last minute due to a development in his case. When you tell Michael, he offers to step in and talk about being an ER doctor instead.

Word Count: 4340

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/Early 50s)

Authors Note: okay I know what you’re thinking….I know I said the next time I post wouldn’t be until first week of June… I lied…well more caved lol. I’m currently sick and at SUCH an inconvenient time for me. Like all the times for me to get sick and I get sick now. So here I am posting this to make me feel better lol. Anyway here is part 5. This is one of my favorite parts and I think you guys will like it too :) So THIS will have to hold you over until Part 6 that won’t be posted until JUNE lol. Also someone yell or scream at me to write and update Eyes On Me!!! Ya girls been too focused on Across The Hall. I left Jack Abbot hanging. How dare I??? Okay see you June. Freal this time. - ryn

“I can’t make it,” he says through the phone.

“What?” You already knew what he meant—career day. The one he promised he wouldn’t miss.

“We have an important meeting with the man we’re defending…”

“Aiden, you promised. My students are going to be disappointed. They’ve been looking forward to this all week—” Your voice cracks. There’s no backup plan. No one else to step in.

“He’s got something to confess. It’s going to change the entire trajectory of the case.”

And with that, you know. He has to go. It’s his job.

“Okay” you say, swallowing the pain down. “I…I understand”

You try to respond, but the lump in your throat makes it hard. Instead, you manage, “Good luck.”

A soft sigh comes through the line. “Thanks. I’ll call you later.”

No sorry. No “I’ll make it up to you.” Nothing.

Just the dull click of the call ending, like a door closing without a glance back.

You stare at the screen until it goes dark, your reflection staring back—tired eyes, tight jaw, the ache settling in deep and familiar. You want to scream. Or cry. Or both. But there’s no time.

It took everything just to sit up in bed.

You moved on autopilot—shower, clothes, coffee you barely tasted. Standing in front of the mirror, mascara wand trembling in your hand, you told yourself not to cry. Not today. Not on Career Day.

But the tears came anyway. Quiet, stubborn.

You dabbed at your face with a tissue, trying to fix the smudges.

You stared at your reflection, willing yourself to look like someone who had it all under control. Someone whose day wasn’t already unraveling.

Because today mattered.

Your students had been excited to meet a real lawyer, and now you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. Panic swirled beneath the surface as your mind raced, trying to figure out how you were going to salvage the day. 

___

Michael left his apartment, expecting to see you come out. You didn’t. His face fell slightly. It wasn’t like you. Normally you’d leave around the same time he did for work. He stood there for a few minutes. 

hen you still didn’t appear, he sighed and headed toward the elevator. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped inside, trying not to let the quiet absence bother him.

“Wait!” you called out, your sneakers thud frantically against the tile as you rushed toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The doors were just beginning to slide closed, but Michael’s hand shot out, stopping them.

You slipped inside, breathing hard. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

Today was not your morning. Michael could tell the moment he saw you. Michael didn’t say anything right away. He just watched you as you stood there, clutching your water bottle like a lifeline, eyes unfocused and distant.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice gentle.

Two words but they cracked something in.

“I have career day at school today,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Aiden was supposed to do a presentation for my students, you know talk about being a lawyer”

Of course it’s something to do with Aiden, Michael thought. It always circles back to him.

“He promised he’d be there,” you continued, voice trembling. “something big came up with his case…”

You paused, blinking hard, trying not to break. “I spent the morning getting ready crying like an idiot, and now I’m just… trying to figure out how to fix it. For them.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, but he was already moving close towards you. 

There was a short silence.

“I could do it,” he said, the words flying out his mouth before he could even think.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said I can do it. Career Day. I’ll come in.” He repeated, more firmly now. 

“You’re… serious?”

“Yeah, I mean—I could come talk to your class. About emergency medicine, or the ER, show them some tools, answer their questions… whatever your kids want to know.”

 “But don’t you work today? You got a whole ER full of patients and–”

“I’m sure my buddy Abbot would cover for an hour or two.” 

“You’d really do that?” you say in disbelief.

He gave a small shrug, but there was nothing casual about the way he looked at you.

“Yeah, of course,” he said—simple, easy. But his eyes lingered.

I’d do anything for you, he wanted to say.

There was something soft in his gaze, something protective. You were sweet—too sweet—and it stirred something in him he didn’t quite know how to name.

 “Just tell me when to show up and what you need. I’ll make it work.”

You couldn’t help it, you lit up. A full, radiant smile that overtook your whole face. Michael had never seen you smile like that before, not even on your best days. It was pure relief, gratitude.

You let out a joyful shriek, bouncing on your toes. “Thank you, Michael!” you exclaim, before throwing your arms around him in a sudden, heartfelt hug.

He chuckled at your excited shriek, the sound pulling a smile from him. The hug caught him off guard for just a second—but then his arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close. He liked this—holding you. It felt warm. Easy. Right.

You pulled back slightly, still smiling, your hands lingering on his arms. “Here, let me give you my number. I’ll text you the time and details. Exchanging numbers is long overdue"

Michael reached into his pocket for his phone, already unlocking it. “Better late than ever" he jokes. "Go ahead.” getting ready to dial your number.

You rattled off your number, watching him type it in. A moment later, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pull it out—Michael Robinavitch flashed across the top of a new text.

“Got it" you smile.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

Already stepping out, rushing toward the lobby doors. The weight on your chest felt suddenly lighter.

“I’ve got to run a few things by the principal before first bell!” you added, walking backward for a step before turning to jog the rest of the way.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you called out, glancing over your shoulder.

Michael raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Well… that is kind of my job!”

“I’ll text you soon!” you shouted and vanished out the front doors and into the city.

Michael watched you run off, then slowly stepped out into the lobby. He lingered there before finally pulling out his phone again.

He scrolled through his messages and tapped on a name: Jack Abbott.

His fingers hovered for a moment over the keyboard—hesitant—then he began to type.

Hey, any chance you can cover my shift for a few hours today?

Yeah, I can swing that. Just let me know what time. Everything okay?

Michael paused for a second, thumb hovering over the screen. Then he continued typing:

Yeah. Just need to take care of something important.

A few dots blinked, then the reply came back:

Got it. Hope everything’s okay. Let me know if you need anything.

Michael read the message. Then he locked his phone, slipped it back into his pocket, and finally set off to work.

—-

“Jack! Thanks for coming in, man,” Michael said, pulling his friend into a quick hug as he met him by the employee/authorized personnel entry point. 

Jack clapped him on the back. “Yeah, no sweat. You okay?” Jack asked, slinging his army backpack over one shoulder as they walked through the ER.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… my neighbor needed a favor,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Oh…that neighbor, huh?”

Michael looks at Jack, trying to rack his brain. Had he ever brought you up? He didn’t think so. Maybe once, late at night on the hospital roof? Or after that brutal shift, drinking beers on the bench at the park across the street? The memory’s hazy, softened by exhaustion.

Jack breaks the silence. “Dana might’ve mentioned her a week or so ago. Asked if I knew anything. I told her it was all news to me.”

Michael exhales sharply, a tired sigh pulled from somewhere deep. “Of course she did.”

Michael exhaled, already regretting the explanation. “She’s a 5th grade teacher. It’s career day at her school. Her boyfriend, a hotshot lawyer, bailed on her, so… I offered to fill in.”

Jack stopped mid-step, forcing Michael to halt as well. He looked Michael dead in the eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You like her.”

“What? No,” Michael said quickly, shaking his head and furrowing his brows. “It’s not like that.”

“That’s not what Dana said” he scoffs a laugh.

Michael runs a hand through his hair. “She’s a kid.”

Even as the words left his mouth, the lie stung. You’re not a kid. You’re a woman—smart, passionate, kind, beautiful—and yeah, younger than him. Way younger. But a kid? No. That wasn’t the truth. Not even close.

And despite everything, despite liking you, he knew one thing for certain: You deserved all the love in the world. The kind that’s attentive. That gives real attention. That cherishes you, sees you, hears you, takes care of you. A love you don’t have to beg for.

“How old is she?”

Michael was hesitant “Twenty-five…”

Jack exhales, loudly, obnoxiously and nods like he’s doing the math in his head.

“Okay, so maybe she’s on the younger side. But so what? If you like her, go for it.” He shrugs

“She’s a sweet girl, but her boyfriend’s—”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

Michael nods slowly. “Yeah. He’s…”

“A jackass” Jack finished, grinning. 

Michael lets out a reluctant laugh as they continue walking. “That’s a kinder way to describe him than I would’ve, but sure. I haven’t met the guy officially, but from what I’ve gathered—and what I’ve seen…the way he treats her is infuriating.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the hum of monitors and distant voices filling the space between them.

“I’m just helping her out,” Michael said quietly.

Jack let the silence stretch, then chuckled. “Right. Just doing your neighborly duty.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re stepping in for the jackass.”

Michael sighed. “It’s just career day.”

“With the woman you definitely don’t like.”

Michael shot him a look. “I’m doing a favor for a neighbor. She’s a friend. That’s it.” 

Jack didn’t say anything right away. They passed a nurse wheeling a patient toward imaging, a tech calling out vitals, the steady buzz of hospital life around them.

Jack nudged him with his elbow, grinning. “Showing up to a fifth-grade classroom in the middle of your shift—in scrubs, no less—to impress a woman who’s already taken? Damn, I didn’t know you were that kind of guy, Robby”

Michael rolled his eyes, recognizing the teasing tone. Jack was clearly trying to push his buttons and enjoying every second of it.

Michael gives him an exasperated look “I’m not trying to impress anyone!”

Jack chuckled. “Sure. Just keep telling yourself that. I know you man. You're doing that thing where you convince yourself you’re being “noble” when really you just want to spend more time with her.”

He did like spending time with you—God, how he loved it.

Being with you, he felt like himself. He didn’t have to be anyone else.

His feelings had bled into the friendship, slowly, unknowingly, until this moment—when he realized just how deep they really were.

Michael didn’t answer right away. He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed ahead. “She’s got a boyfriend,” he muttered. “Not my business—”

“—But if it was your business…”

“Jack,” Michael said, his tone warning.

“All right, all right.” Jack held up his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “I’ll drop it. Just—don’t get your heart tangled up in something you can’t have.”

They continued walking, the hum of the ER fading behind them as they neared the staff room.

Jack dropped his bag onto the bench and glanced over at Michael, who was busy opening his locker to grab his backpack.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” Michael said, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“Well,” Jack replied with a smirk, “all I gotta say is good luck with career day, doc. Oh, and try not to fall in love in front of a bunch of fifth-graders.”

Michael shot him a look.

“Okay, that was the last one, promise,” Jack added, flashing a playful grin.

Michael shook his head, mock scowl in place as he shut his locker. But the laugh that followed gave him away. Jack always knew how to get under his skin—even when he didn’t really mind.

“I’ll see you later,” Michael said, heading for the door.

—

Michael appeared at your classroom door just after lunch. He scanned the room with curious eyes before locking onto yours. You were seated at your desk, pretending to focus on grading, but your shoulders relaxed the moment you saw him.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm, like he’d just stepped into familiar territory.

He was in his scrubs. A backpack was slung over one shoulder, and a large black duffle hung from the other hand. His hair was still damp from the rain, strands falling slightly out of place. Despite it all, his smile was easy and genuine—the kind that disarmed you every time.

“Hi,” you said as you stood, trying to ramp down the sudden wave of relief that swept over you.

“Give me a few minutes to get them ready,” you said quietly, stepping around your desk. “You can hang out over there—or whatever's comfortable.”

Michael nodded and moved further inside, setting his bag down near your desk. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you—curious, observant—as you took charge of the room.

You clapped twice, your attention-getter snapping the students to attention. “Alright, friends—workbooks away and eyes on me. Show me you’re ready.”

There was a shuffle of papers and pencil boxes before stillness settled over the room. You smiled as you looked over your class, then turned toward Michael.

“Fifth graders,” you began, “I mentioned earlier that our original guest speaker for career day unfortunately couldn’t make it today. But we are very lucky, Dr. Robinavitch has stepped in! He’s an emergency room doctor”

Michael gave a small wave, his calm energy immediately balancing the room. “Hi everyone. I’m Dr. Robinavitch, but I also go by Dr. Robby for short. So, who here knows what an ER doctor does?”

A few hands shot up. One student shouted, “You fix broken arms!”

Michael nodded. “Yep. Broken arms, heads, stomachs, you name it. I’m kind of like a detective for people’s bodies—I have to figure out what’s wrong, fast, and sometimes fix it even faster.”

You move toward the back of your classroom, taking a seat off to the side by the last row of students, giving Michael the space, the floor, and the kids’ full attention. Their eyes are wide, some leaning forward on their desks, completely hooked.

Another student asked, “Do you see blood? Like, a lot of blood?”

He chuckled. “More than I’d like before breakfast.”

The class erupted into laughter, and you saw your students leaning forward, totally hooked. Michael had that quiet, steady charm that translated surprisingly well in front of fifth graders.

He pulled a stethoscope from his bag and held it up. “Okay, who wants to hear their own heartbeat?”

Nearly every hand shot up.

As he walked between desks, letting kids take turns listening to heartbeats, he told quick stories—about a kid who came in after eating five magnets, about a teenager who got his finger stuck in a soda can tab, about the night someone walked in with a LEGO in their nose.

Your class hung on every word. 

And so did you. 

You told yourself it was harmless—just admiration.

He was incredible with the kids. Patient. Warm. Confident without ever showing off. He knelt beside their desks like what they had to say truly mattered. And they loved him for it.

You watched him move through the room with such ease—laughing, listening, crouching like he had all the time in the world. The kids adored him. And honestly… so did you.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just a flutter. A pull. A feeling you tried not to name.

He was older. Way older. Old enough to be your father, technically—though he never made you feel small. He treated you as an equal. He was attentive, like what you had to say truly mattered. With him, you felt heard. Seen. 

And that was dangerous.

You admired how he carried himself—his quiet confidence, his easy intelligence, his kindness that felt so steady and real. It was natural to admire someone like that… wasn’t it?

But still, you felt it, that creeping awareness that maybe it wasn’t just admiration.

You had a boyfriend.

You weren’t supposed to notice the way Michael’s sleeves were always rolled just above his elbows, or how his voice softened when he spoke to the shy kid in the back row. You weren’t supposed to feel that flutter in your chest every time he smiled.

Aiden wasn’t like that.

He wasn’t an ER doctor who knelt beside desks and told stories that made your class laugh. He didn’t have that kind of calm, steady presence. That patience. That warmth.

You closed your eyes for a beat, trying to push the comparison away before it could settle in too deep. But it was already there, growing.

Because the truth was, your boyfriend didn’t make people light up the way Micahel did. Especially not you.

Michael was just volunteering his time. Helping out. Doing you a favor. And yet somehow, he was more present, more reliable, more engaged than the person you were actually dating.

One of your students leaned over and whispered, “Miss, is Dr. Robby, your boyfriend?” They giggled. 

Your heart did a small, traitorous flip.

You cleared your throat and forced a smile. “No, he’s just a friend.”

But in that moment, you realized—maybe you were starting to wish he wasn’t.

Micahel continued to tell stories, answer questions, he eventually brought out his duffle bag onto the carpet and pulled out a CPR training dummy. He demonstrated to the kids how to do CPR, then split the kids into groups and had them practice. 

As the visit draws and the last group of students had a turn at doing CPR on the dummy, you headed towards the front of your classroom, clapped your hands once to get their attention. 

“Alright, everyone, what do we say to Dr. Robby?”

A chorus of voices rang out, bright and genuine: “Thank you!”

Michael smiled, a hand over his heart. “You’re very welcome.”

“Alright everyone we’re gonna start getting ready for 2nd recess. Go line up by the back door!” 

As the students made their way to form a line, you turned toward Michael. He was slinging on his backpack and grabbing his duffle bag, ready to head out.

“Thank you for coming in, Michael. Seriously. The kids loved you.” you said with a smile. 

He gave a modest shrug. “No problem. I actually had a lot of fun. Your kids are great. Really bright…Not the little gremlins you always make them out to be.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t let one good day fool you. They were on their best behavior for you.”

“I gotta head to get back to the ER to finish my shift, but I’ll see you at home.”

At home.

The words lingered. A small, traitorous thought crept in.

You knew he didn’t mean it like that. He lived across the hall, nothing more.

You let yourself imagine it. What would it be like if he did come home to you? After a long day at school for you, a long shift at the ER for him. Kicking off your shoes, swapping stories over takeout, falling asleep on the couch together, exhausted but content.

You’d had a little glimpse, a taste of what it could be like that night the two of you had carried your heavy box up six flights. Somehow that led to him staying to help build your shelf. He’d sat on your apartment floor, building and talking to you while you cooked.

You could never forget how natural, comforting, easy—safe—that moment had felt.

It was stupid. Just a fantasy. Just a somewhat innocent thought, but the idea of him and you? That  thought made your heart pound. 

“R-right, I’ll see you at home” 

“Bye” he smiled, before heading out the door

You gave him a small wave “Bye” 

—

That night you knocked on Michael’s door.

He opened it, no longer in his scrubs but dressed in a soft, casual t-shirt and joggers. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d finally had a chance to relax.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the frame. “There isn’t a baking disaster, is there?”

“What? No,” you said, frowning slightly, caught off guard. “Why would there be a baking disaster?”

“I don’t know…” he teased, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Last time you came knocking on my door at night, you’d smoked out your apartment baking cookies.”

He chuckled.

“No Garfield PJs this time… No emergency… nothing’s jammed, all is good!” you added with an embarrassed laugh.

“I just… wanted to give you these. There from my class,” you added, holding out a bundle of colorful cards and drawings the students had made.

Michael straightened, surprised, then took the stack from your hands. It was full of crayon hearts, stick-figure doctors, and shaky handwriting that said things like Thank you, Dr. Robby! and You’re cool!

His smile softened as he shifted through them, taking a quick look. “Wow…This is really sweet. Tell them I said thank you”

“I will,” you said, your eyes lingering on him. “But seriously, thank you, Michael. You didn’t just make their day… you made mine, too.”

You gave a small smile, letting it hang for a beat before adding, softer now, “You’re a good man. Thoughtful. Steady. The kind of guy people can count on. You didn’t have to show up like that, but you did."

Before you could second-guess it, you rose up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek.

It was gentle. Brief. But the air shifted between you the moment your lips touched his skin.

Michael stood still, breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat.

That kiss, barely there, soft as a sigh, lingered longer than it should’ve. Not on his cheek, but in his chest.

Your hands drifted down his chest, and he felt every inch like it had been branded.

He should’ve stepped back. Said something.

But all he could do was look at you.

You weren’t smiling, not really—but your eyes held something else. Something braver. Warmer. Something that pulled at the part of him he tried so hard to keep buried.

Before you or Michael could say anything another voice called out through the hall. 

“Babe?” 

It was Aiden. He didn’t tell you he was coming over. You move away quickly from Michael.. 

“Aiden? What are you doing here?”

He walked toward you, a bouquet in hand.

“I got you your favorite flowers,” he said, smiling. “Thanks for understanding that I couldn’t make it today.”

You stared at the roses in his hand.They weren’t your favorite. Not even close. But maybe it was the thought that counted.

You stood there for a second too long, your eyes flicking to the flowers, then to Michael—still standing just behind you, quiet, unreadable.

But your mind wasn’t on the bouquet.

It was on the kiss you gave Michael.

You hadn’t planned it. It had just… happened. Soft. Simple. Barely more than a brush of lips against his cheek. But it landed heavier than it should have, echoing louder now that Aiden was here, smiling.

You told yourself it was nothing.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

You took the flowers and managed a small smile. “Thank you… they’re beautiful.”

Michael stood frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of his door.

He couldn’t believe the audacity. Aiden actually thought that no apology—and a last-minute bouquet of roses, no less—would make everything okay? Roses weren’t even your favorite flowers. Tulips were.

But what stunned him more… you took them. You actually took them.

He wasn’t just shocked by Aiden. He was shocked by you.

After everything—after how much this day had meant to your students, to you—you still accepted the flowers?

Aiden hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t even acknowledged how important today was. And yet, somehow, that didn’t seem to matter.

You’d been counting on him. And he let you down without a second thought.

Michael’s jaw tensed, but the feeling in his chest wasn’t just anger. It was confusing. Frustration. And something else—something quieter, deeper.

Just seconds ago, you’d kissed his cheek. Soft. Unassuming. 

He had no right to read into it. He knew that.

But still—it meant something, didn’t it?

Now, standing there, watching you smile faintly as Aiden handed you flowers like it was enough, Michael found himself asking the one question he couldn’t shake:

Why him?

What did you see in Aiden, really?

Because from where Michael stood, he didn’t look like a partner. He looked like an obligation. A habit. A mistake you hadn’t realized you were still making.

And that bothered Michael more than he wanted to admit.

Aiden pulls you into a hug, and kisses you on the forehead. 

“Who’s this?” Aiden asked, nodding toward Michael.

“Oh—this is Michael, my neighbor. Michael, this is my boyfriend, Aiden.”

Aiden stepped forward, offering a hand. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Michael didn’t move. “Hey,” he said flatly, eyes cool, hands gripping the notes and drawings your students had made him.

The shift was immediate. Just moments ago, Michael had been teasing you, relaxed and easy. Now, he stood like a brick wall—closed off, unreadable.

And you noticed, you felt it.

Aiden awkwardly retracted his hand.

“I’ve got a double shift, so I should head to bed,” Michael said abruptly to you. 

“Oh…okay, well–”

“Goodnight,” he cut in, already turning away. A moment later, the door shut firmly behind him. 

The thud of the door causes you to jump slightly. 

Aiden scoffed. “Jeez. That guy’s rude. What's his problem?” He turned toward your door. “Hey, have you made dinner yet? I’m starving.”

He walked inside without waiting for an answer.

You stayed where you were, fingers still holding the flowers, rooted outside Michael’s door. You didn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Your eyes stayed on the door he’d shut, like he was in a hurry to get away.

You told yourself not to take it personally. He was tired. It didn’t matter.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just slipped away.

Tags: @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @beebeechaos @antisocialfiore @delicatetrashtree @xxxkat3xxx @homebytheharbor @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @livingavilaloca @elkitot @annabellee88 @hagarsays @emma8895eb @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing @jazzimac1967 @lafemme-nk @kmc1989 @whos6claire @harrysgothicbitch @trustme3-13 @qardasngan @silas-aeiou @k3ndallroy @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @ay0nha @404creep @dantemorenatalie @obfuscateyummy @steviebbboi @alliegc28 @catmomstyles3 @ardentistella @madprincessinabox @circumspectre @the-one-with-the-grey-color @thatchickwiththecamera @violetswritingg @valutfromlune

[astonmartinii]

work wife | isack hadjar social media au

pairing: isack hadjar x fem rb social media admin reader

is it the pressure of wanting to make an impression that makes him do all of those stupid tiktoks or is it the one holding the camera?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

isackhadjar

liked by yourusername, liamlawson30 and 109,392 others

isackhadjar: another weekend of kicking ass, lighting up tiktok and supplying the pastries

view all comments

user1: that’s MY tiktok star

user2: the kardashians are gonna have to sue for identity fraud real soon

user3: he’s got the ass to match as well

yourusername: real

isackhadjar: is this not workplace harassment

yourusername: please don’t sue me, i’m broke enough as it is

isackhadjar: lawyer up babe

yourusername: i thought i was allowed to comment on your peach as your work wife

isackhadjar: i’ll check with HR

yourusername: chat am i cooked?

user4: who is this girl

user5: bro she’s the RB social admin

user6: she calls his ass fat and forces him to do those tiktoks… we might have to send her to the electric chair

yourusername: FORCE?

isackhadjar: okay… only i can slander my work wife, those tiktoks are completely consensual

user7: oh i know those two are a nightmare to work with

user8: what’s worse: having to film those videos or having to third wheel

liamlawson30: if i speak i am in big trouble

yourusername: LIAM?

liamlawson30: turns out i am in trouble regardless

yourusername: anyway… thank you for the croissants… and the points i guess

isackhadjar: just making your live tweet job a little easier

yourusername: you’re just so generous

isackhadjar: for you? of course

user9: are we interrupting

yukitsunoda0511: just leave them be, they’ll be ignoring us anyway

yourusername

liked by liamlawson30, isackhadjar and 3,029 others

yourusername: a weekend posting f1 reels from the pool

view all comments

user12: wait who was going to tell me that admin was this cute

user13: yall are late i’ve been camped here for months

user14: are we flexing how long we’ve been stalking the admin of an f1 page?

user13: yes

isackhadjar: so it’s true… you really don’t care about me once you’ve left the paddock

yourusername: what? no!!!!!

isackhadjar: well are the postal services on strike? where was my invite?

yourusername: you’re mr money bags in this relationship, you could’ve flown yourself

yourusername: i’ve been saving for this trip for TIME

isackhadjar: i didn’t know that was an option…

olliebearman: omg just say you wanted her to invite you personally

isackhadjar: ??????? what are you doing here

olliebearman: this is a public comment section and you’re embarrassing yourself

yourusername: woah careful how you’re speaking on my work husband

olliebearman: how about you make him your real husband so he stops making it our problem

isackhadjar: i did not make it your problem

kimiantonelli: your diary did

isackhadjar: YOU READ MY DIARY

isackhadjar: i mean JOURNAL

yourusername: no bullying my man in my comment section

yourusername: make it in RB’s comment section please

isackhadjar: Y/N?

yourusername: i need the engagement to pay my salary !

isackhadjar: okay i guess…

user14: is this a bit or is he actually so down bad that he’ll let people cyber bully him?

user15: i mean look at the material… i’d be doing worse for a woman like that

user16: we need her in front of the camera more often

yourusername: aren’t you all smooth talkers…

isackhadjar: this post is now formally my suicide note

yourusername: stop being so dramatic, you know you’re my favourite

isackhadjar: of all time or just in the paddock

yourusername: okay babe let’s stop fishing now

liamlawson30

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 178,309 others

tagged: yourusername & isackhadjar

liamlawson30: formula one driver or professional third wheel - everyone’s favourite gameshow

view all comments

user17: who is providing more y/nisack propaganda: isack or liam

user18: isack is flexing it but liam is posting it at gunpoint

user19: who is holding the gun

user20: isack

isackhadjar: yes, it is that deep

isackhadjar: who said that?

gabrielbortoleto: my condolences liam

yourusername: excuse you?

isackhadjar: you can be mean to me but i draw the line at being mean to y/n

gabrielbortoleto: i’ll be mean to both of you because the five (5) minutes i spent around you two earlier was unbearable

yourusername: isack literally bought you a coffee?

gabrielbortoleto: first of all, it was the RB hospitality so he did not have to pay. second of all, i couldn’t stomach my coffee over all of the tension. seriously how do you people get anything done?

yourusername: are you doubting my professionalism?

yourusername: god forbid a girl jokes with her friends at work

isackhadjar: isack hadjar found dead at 20 in his paris apartment

user21: this is getting a wee bit sad

user22: i think girlypop is trying not to get a one way trip to the HR office

user23: for real… i’ve seen the tension through the screen

liamlawson30: she wants that cookie bad

yourusername: LIAM???

maxverstappen1: i found isack and y/n’s dynamic quite charming actually

liamlawson30: that’s just because y/n is an OG max stan so she doesn’t make you do any of the dumb challenges

yourusername: guilty

maxverstappen1: as she should be

isackhadjar: i thought you were an isack stan

yourusername: i am! but why would i miss out on seeing your face in front of my camera

isackhadjar: hehhehehehehehehehe

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, olliebearman and 38,904 others

tagged: isackhadjar

yourusername: all the isack photos on admin’s phone that she can’t post on main

view all comments

user27: HOLY MOLY

user28: is this safe for work

user29: goodbye to the best RB admin in the world there’s no way you have a job after this post

user30: i will personally fight RB if they force her to leave

isackhadjar: well this is not what he discussed

yourusername: chat is it illegal to flex your handsome boyf

isackhadjar: i thought maybe our super romantic picture at the eiffel tower would be a cute inclusion

yourusername: sorry i got excited …

isackhadjar: i’d do the same but unfortunately that’s for my eyes only

yourusername: there’s more where they came from

isackhadjar: YIPEE!!

liamlawson30: how is this guy in a relationship?

isackhadjar: it’s called being a nice, handsome guy who WILL practice his lipsyncing in the mirror

yourusername: emphasis on handsome

yourusername: omg i can’t believe that’s my man

yourusername: hashtag winner

user31: what has happened to my beautiful sport

yourusername: awwwwww is someone mad i get to kiss the man and you don’t

user32: omg she’s on smoke

user33: HR be damned

yourusername: HR were the first people to know i fear

yourusername: i can’t believe i was ready to lose my dream job for a MAN

isackhadjar: am i not… worth it?

yourusername: oh 100% but my parents would’ve killed me and then you

isackhadjar: but you still had a job so they love me, right?

isackhadjar: THEY LOVE ME, RIGHT?

yourusername: of course!

isackhadjar: good because my parents love you more than they love me at this point

kimiantonelli: WHY DID YOU THINK WE NEEDED TO SEE THIS?

yourusername: so people know i have GAME

olliebearman: first we had to suffer through your weird phase and now this whoring

yourusername: hey! only i can call isack a whore 😞

isackhadjar: amongst other things

liamlawson30: LEAVE US OUT OF THIS SMUT

user34: no please keep going

yourusername: don’t think of my boyfriend like that

isackhadjar: don’t think of my girlfriend like that

isackhadjar

liked by liamlawson30, lewishamilton and 409,208 others

tagged: yourusername

isackhadjar: upgraded my work wife to girlfriend (wife coming soon)

view all comments

user35: warning: do not try this at home you will actually lose your job

user36: i hope they still make him do all the dumb tiktoks

liamlawson30: believe me, they will. it’s like some weird foreplay for them

yourusername: are you actually trying to get me fired?

liamlawson30: no but you two are little freaks

isackhadjar: that’s a compliment to me

lewishamilton: congratulations to the new couple in the paddock

isackhadjar: OH MY FUCKING GOD

yourusername: being shown up in my own relationship already, you hate to see it

lewishamilton: ???

isackhadjar: thank you lewis! you’ll have to come visit us in paris some time!

yourusername: will i be demoted to the couch that weekend?

isackhadjar: no?

lewishamilton: i don’t really know what’s going on here, just happy that you guys are happy

yourusername: thanks lewis!

yourusername: but a threesome is not completely out of the question right?

lewishamilton: i could be your father, both of you. no.

yourusername: worth a try

pepemarti: can’t believe you forgot about me

isackhadjar: just because i have a girlfriend doesn’t mean i can’t have my husband

yourusername: right.

isackhadjar: no I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

pepemarti: i see 😞

isackhadjar: what is going on

yourusername: nonsense in this comment section aside, i love you baby!!!

isackhadjar: i love you too cherie xx

yourusername: if you get points again this weekend you can choose what nonsense i make you do next

isackhadjar: wow what a prize

yourusername: well i can promise other things, but we really should keep it professional in public

kimiantonelli: you just proposed a threesome to lewis

yourusername: GET OUT OF OUR BUSINESS

isackhadjar: i’ll take the deal for both

yourusername: get to racing then pretty boy

fin.

note: i love me some isack hadjar and i can't believe this is the first time i've written for him !!!

[borkthemork]

So, I need to tell you guys what has been happening today. For context, back in January 16, my friend group jokingly made a promise to one of our friends (let's call them H) that we will get them the Lego Cullen House set. Like the minifigs, the wolf, the car, everything.

Here's the thing though: my friend fucking hates Twilight, like they read the books but they still don't like the series at all. So for the giggles we decided to make a promise that we would send H the Lego set on their birthday. However, the idea didn't come to fruition.

Or so we thought.

The box came in months, several months before their birthday, and everyone was confused and baffled. No one knew who sent the package. No one said anything about sending it out legitimately. There was a conversation about it today but it got shut down due to H not knowing if they have room for it.

However, stick with me, this person didn't just send H a Lego set, no.

They also sent a separate package that had a letter from Edward Cullen wanting to fuck their husband, and a framed PNG of a signed Edward Cullen autograph.

And you may be thinking "Bork, what if they just look at the sender address to find who sent it?" well the thing is that the sender was Edward Cullen. WE DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS. THEY PRE-PLANNED THIS DAYS, WEEKS, OR EVEN MONTHS FOR THIS. AND NO ONE HAS FESSED UP.

I need to emphasize that we had no clue this would happen. This came out of nowhere, at a time where all of us thought it wouldn't actually happen, and then the UPS guy came and like changed the game. We have been accusing each other of who sent this for hours!

The wax seal is real. The legos are real. Someone wrote in cursive to have Edward tell H's husband that he wants him, that is real. The frame is on their wall right now as we speak.

We still don't know who it was.

Transcript of Letter for Anyone Interested:

[H], How have you been, dear friend? I, myself have been aching to get away from the loomy atmosphere of Forks and pay Italy a visit, which I may do very soon… However, there is a delicate matter that I wanted to discuss with you and I trust that our friendship will bear the weight of what I am about to ask… As you know, I have always admired your impeccable taste. In music, literature, humor, and well… who you've married. I have to admit that [H's Husband] is quite… compelling, to say the least. I watch the way he is with you and I hear his thoughts. And all the things he enjoys doing to you has piqued my interest and I can't help but want to experience him the way you do. Now I would never presume to cross a line, but should you find yourself feeling particularly generous, I wonder if you might consider lending him? Just for a single night… Casually… If not, I mean no offense… But just think about it… Yours always, Edward

[idealai]

@squided, I say this extremely kindly to a person who has just called me a murderer and a genocide advocate for reblogging this post— as someone who donates to Palestinians and to Palestinian orgs, and someone who personally volunteers at Amnesty International as so to help address Palestinians, get a goddamn grip.

How is recognising there are people willing to weaponise genocide in order to scam people out of their money considered an act of advocating for genocide? How is reblogging a simple post recognising this and poking a little fun considered advocating for murder? Seriously?

It is not an act of genocide to try and warn people to make sure that their money is going to actual Palestinians: indeed, one could actually see this as a good thing to make sure that money is going to the actual people that are suffering and in need instead if it being used to line the pockets of greedy bots.

I am extremely aware that there are awful people out there willing to tear down any semblance of support for Palestine, believe me, I know. I literally got swamped on Twitter for saying that I held onto hopes of converting to Judaism while also being an anti-Zionist, just a few months ago. But there is also awful people out there willing to weaponise people’s compassion and incessantly flood people’s inbox; it’s not genocidal for me to block them, to warn other people and poke fun at the bots.

To be clear, I will keep my head down and keep donating to Palestinians and keep doing my volunteer work while cleaning out my inbox and reblogging posts like these— call me a genocide advocate and murderer all you want, but I’m willing to bet I’ve done for more to help than you and your little call-out post (activism is more than reblogging posts and tweets).

For any one else, here are links to organisations in need of funds for Palestine; to save one life is to save the world entire, and every life counts!

tumblr should have achievements

[so-i-did-this-thing]

do you ever stop being scared of getting misgendered? this morning i went to a fun little grad party that my old school was throwing and it made me feel so terrified, cus i started transitioning after i left. i was so scared someone was gonna recognize me as the weird little girl no one liked so i didnt talk to anyone and honestly it was super lonely

Misgendering is unfortunately going to be one of those things you will need to learn to face. Let me tell you about some of my experiences.

I transitioned very publicly (the music world is very small) and the deliberate misgendering and "jokes" just made it clear who I would and would not go to bat for. Very important as someone who frequently put his job on the line to make sure people got paid fairly. One of the worst offenders was an orchestra owner I assembled a group suit against for non-payment, and by the end, he was terrified of me. I'm sure he still makes "jokes", but he also doesn't live in his fancy house anymore after all his payouts.

Being treated as a curiosity is going to happen. Even among "allies," you are going to get rude questions, accidental misgendering, and those lingering looks where people try to figure out what you look like naked, or how you did before HRT. You need to hold your head high and establish firm boundaries on inappropriate questions. This is hard to navigate, as you'll be spending a lot of emotional labor assuring some folks that they are not bad people, as they whine it's "so hard" to get your pronouns right. It's up to you to decide how much effort is worth it, and you can only really educate those who come to you in good faith.

What's worse, imo, is the misgendering that feels like a betrayal. In-laws who previously thought I was cis immediately started misgendering me when they learned I was trans. We are cordial now, over 10 years later, but that relationship is probably irrevocably damaged because they never apologized and furthermore, acted like a victim when confronted with their transphobia. But I treat it as their loss, not mine. I do a lot for my family, including the jobs no one else wants to do (mainly revolving around taking care of the dead & dying), but my sense of family obligation nonetheless has limits.

I also had a very, very long-time friend misgender me with growing frequency as he fell down the alt-right pipeline. I ended up abruptly cutting him out of my life, with the reminder to myself that a childhood based on proximity + pop culture things we both enjoyed is not necessarily a true friendship -- if we had met as adults, I would have instantly hated him.

So, misgendering is a scale, and I'd recommend you reflect upon the forms it can take, and how you'll respond. It's very, very important that there be penalties for it, from a stern talking-to to going no-contact.

But I will be honest -- I am openly trans partly out of defiance. I enjoy the cognitive dissonance people experience, especially when I end up being bigger (it does happen), better looking, more confident, and more successful than the naysayers think I should be.

And among allies, I enjoy when folks can compare the angry, shy, weird little girl they knew before to the calm, confident, yet still weird middle-aged man they still know, and acknowledge what I've overcome to thrive. I worked my butt off to get to where I am and am proud to have that recognized.

Ultimately, you likely need to reconcile how you feel about that weird little girl no one liked. Clearly, she was incredibly strong, if you're here today. Embrace and celebrate that part of yourself, especially for being a survivor. It makes it all the more difficult then, for anyone to weaponize who you used to be.

[fromdove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⁞ 𝓓ICK 𝓖RAYSON ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝓦HEN 𝓗E'S 𝓘N 𝓛OVE 𝓗EADCANONS !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨୧

— dick grayson when he's in love hcs ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— dick grayson x fem!reader ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— count how many times I said "like"..... ⊹ ࣪ ˖

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

⤷ he teases you a lot. like. annoying. if you mispronounce a word one (1) time you will never hear the end of it. he’ll bring it up three weeks later like “remember when you said ‘sherbert’ instead of ‘sherbet’ lol dumbass” and you’re like i know where you sleep

⤷ he likes watching you do mundane things. like tying your shoes. or flipping pages. or brushing your teeth. “you always do that little pause before you spit. it’s cute.” <- what are you even supposed to do with that.

⤷ will Not. let you walk on the curb side of the street. ever. like you’ll try and he’ll do that quiet sidestep-switch like no. no. i’m the buffer between you and the world. get behind me baby i’m trained in 47 types of combat

⤷ you sneeze once. ONCE. uno. one. 1 !!!! time. and suddenly he’s Googling “early signs of pneumonia” and wrapping you in three blankets like you’re in an igloo.

⤷ he’s not subtle. not even a little. he’s grinning all the time. like you’re his little secret. except you’re not. because everyone knows. because he talks about you constantly and doesn’t realise it. like someone asks “what do you think of this sandwich place?” and he’s like “oh my partner hates pickles” and you’re like. ok???? who asked???????

⤷ texts like. really badly. "on my way" / "u good?" / "?" / “home safe?” / “did you eat?” / “also here’s a stray cat i found near the precinct it made me think of you bc it was mean but cute”. no punctuation. and then sends you a 3-paragraph message about a book from the 70s that reminded him of you.

⤷ one time you got a papercut and he ACTUALLY KISSED YOUR FINGER. like what is this. a 2003 romcom. who does that. you let him anyway.

⤷ dates are like. chaotic. they range. they VARY. he’ll plan them so carefully and then forget the address. it goes from him taking you rooftop dancing at 2am (he knows the security guard don’t ask). to the fanciest more expensive restaurants. or sometimes its the most random places...like why are we eating cold dumplings on a fire escape at midnight. why am i in your lap. why is this perfect. why r u dancing on the rooftop. pls. i just wanted to eat. it could also be you two literally brushing teeth side by side in pajamas while he talks about some city ordinance that made him mad.

⤷ also he’s like. a hand holder. all the time. especially in crowds. “just so i don’t lose you” ok liar you just like touching me.

⤷ he’s sooooooooooo good with kids it’s disgusting. like you’ll be walking past a playground and suddenly he’s in a full game of tag with a bunch of eight-year-olds like??? ok??? and you’re sitting there like is this what being in love feels like???????? have my babies then??????????

⤷ he gets nervous when you meet bruce. he acts like he doesn’t care but he’s standing straighter. fixing your collar. whispering “you got this”. like. dude. broski. seems like you need that advice a little more than me..

⤷ he brings you little things all the time. dumb things. a keychain. a sticker. he's gotten u a mug that says “i like my boyfriends like i like my coffee: hot and ready to fight crime”. he's like "that describes me perfectly babe!" ok..... just say ur inlove w/urself..

⤷ he loves when you wear his shirts. he pretends to be chill but he deflates when he sees it. “is that mine?” yes dick. it says “haley’s circus” on it. and it smells like crime fighting and your conditioner now. congrats. he’s 70% more handsy. 30% more cuddly. 100% ferocious internally. his caveman brain is like “MINE.”

⤷ he has like. six nicknames for you. three of them are variations of “birdie” and one of them is “hey trouble” and he says it with that little lopsided grin and you melt and throw a pillow at him and he catches it with one hand

⤷ he’s like. stupidly in love. and he’ll kiss your hand when he’s driving. and you’re like. eyes on the road. and he’s like. “i have great reflexes” and you’re like. great. that’s not the point.

⤷ he talks in his sleep. sometimes it’s mission stuff. sometimes it’s your name. once he said “alfred please no more soup” and you almost peed yourself laughing. he was so embarrassed. you bring it up constantly.

⤷ when he’s gone for patrol or a mission longer than expected he always texts. even if it’s just “still alive. miss u. criminals suck.”

⤷ he’s not flashy. but he’s intense. he listens. remembers everything. “didn’t you say you liked this song in april?” yes he has a playlist. yes it’s called “her smile > gotham skyline”

⤷ he acts like you’re a little miracle. like he can’t believe you’re real. he’ll just stare at you sometimes and blink slow like a cat and say “i love you” like it’s a confession every time.

⤷ he’ll tease you but only about dumb things. like how you sometimes stutter when you ramble or how you always leave the cap off the toothpaste. and then he’ll fix it. quietly. every time.

⤷ when he introduces you to his friends. he’s like. so soft. “this is my person. be nice. or i’ll beat you up. lovingly.”

⤷ you catch him looking at you all dreamy sometimes and he just goes “what?” and shrugs and kisses your forehead like it’s no big deal that he’s in constant awe of you

⤷ he’s in love like it’s easy. like it’s gravity. like he’s spent his whole life falling and you’re the first place that ever felt like landing.

⤷ you ask him to hang out and he’s like yeah yeah ofc and then five minutes later you’re on his bike and he's like “is gotham cold or am i crazy” and you're just clinging to him like a lil barnacle while the skyline blurs. he's only thinking about how soft your hands are on his stomach

⤷ he sends you memes. like. actually. they’re dumb. sometimes Nightwing fan edits. he pretends he doesn’t know you know. “someone sent me this” like ok babe sure. "someone" aka your own saved folder. keep lying

⤷ in love dick is like. chaotic neutral trying to be lawful good. he’ll pick you up from school or work and you’re like “you didn’t have to” and he goes “i know” but he’s there every time

⤷ he does this thing where he’ll lean on the counter while you talk. like hand-under-chin. dumb lil smile. he’s not even listening fully sometimes. he’s just watching you like you’re a painting in a gallery he’s been to before but still finds new details in. annoying. beautiful. criminal

⤷ if you’re sleeping over he’s sleeping on the edge of the bed because he moves like a windmill and he’s afraid he’ll knock you out mid-dream. but by morning you’re tangled. always. no exceptions

⤷ ok so. gifts. random. weird. he once gave you a grappling hook keychain and was so smug about it. “just in case you need a quick escape.” sir. from where. my bedroom??

⤷ he talks about you to everyone. not in a gross bragging way. in a like. “yeah (y/n) helped me pick this” or “(y/n) said i’d like this song” or “you’d like them. they’re really funny. and smart. and good. and like. they’re just. yeah.” and then changes the subject aggressively

⤷ he will NEVER say no to you playing with his hair. he’ll act like it’s not a big deal but if you stop he’ll be like “wait. you were doing the— you were playing with my hair—”

⤷ he's the type to check the exits wherever you go but also brings you gum and hand sanitizer like the world's most traumatised dad

⤷ sometimes he zones out while you're talking and you're like hello?? and he's just like “you looked really happy. i wanted to remember it.” AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO SHRUG. ok poetic boy

⤷ he gets weirdly possessive but like. silently. if someone flirts with you at a party he’ll just kind of materialise next to you like “hey babe” and put his arm around you like hello yes i am six feet of jealousy wrapped in kevlar

⤷ he will not admit he cried over you once (more than once, lets be real). even though it’s obvious. even though jason literally heard him sniffling in the batcave. it’s fine. let him pretend

⤷ when you’re upset he gets quiet. not cold. just. steady. he listens. he doesn’t try to fix it unless you ask. he sits next to you and holds your hand and says “i’m here.” and he is. fully. always.

⤷ he’s got scars on scars but he lets you trace them. tells you the stories if you want. lies about the ones he’s not ready to talk about. it’s ok. you know. you wait

⤷ love makes him dumb. he does pushups with you sitting on his back. buys your favorite snacks in bulk. lets you paint his nails and then goes on patrol with them like it’s normal (it is)

⤷ he teaches you how to do flips. or tries. and then laughs when you fall. but then also kisses your scraped elbow like “my bad babe” with zero actual remorse. “you’ll get it next time” he says while still laughing. he’s sososososo annoying. you love him.

⤷ wears your hair tie on his wrist like it’s part of his uniform. you say nothing. he says nothing. but it’s always there.

⤷ teaches you escrima if you ask. but only if you promise not to make fun of the sticks. you make fun of the sticks anyway. he fake pouts. you kiss him mid-fight. he drops one stick. it’s fine.

⤷ carries a picture of you in his wallet and pretends he doesn’t. you find it once and he tries to act like it’s no big deal. “whatever. you look cute. move on.”

⤷ he thinks he's subtle. he's not. the whole batfamily knows. jason makes fun of him. damian gags. tim just leaves the room. bruce is like “don’t get distracted” and dick is like “yes sir 🫡” while actively distracted.

⤷ picks at your food. then acts shocked when you do the same. “you said you weren’t hungry??” yeah ok YOU said you weren’t emotionally available dick now look at us. hypocrites in love.

⤷ gives you nicknames like “hotshot” or “trouble” and then blushes when you call him anything. “dork” makes him literally malfunction. he pretends to be offended but smiles when you’re not looking.

⤷ gets quiet when you’re sad. like real quiet. sits next to you and just waits. doesn’t force you to talk. but if you do talk—he listens. like really listens. remembers every word. brings it up months later. “you said this place makes you feel calm” oh so you remember that ok

⤷ he’s so annoying. in the best way. like. the type of annoying that makes you blush and kick your feet and want to punch a wall. his wall specifically.

⤷ he’s all casual flirty with everyone right?? but when he’s in love with you??? he turns tender. like terrifyingly tender. it’s like he’s trying not to break you by looking too hard. like eye contact might detonate you. but i mean. either way. he still stares at you hard. even when trying not to.

⤷ he does the “can you sit with me while i do paperwork” thing. like you’re a cat. like he just wants you in proximity while he suffers.

⤷ he picks up food for you without asking. every time. "thought you might be hungry." no baby you knew. we have a soul connection. you felt my hunger. don’t play with me

⤷ he touches your back when you cross streets. lets you walk on the inside of the sidewalk. opens the door even when you argue. says "just let me take care of you a little." & now you’re sobbing in the CVS skincare aisle. congrats.

⤷ he lets you braid his hair when it gets too long. he pretends to hate it. you both know he’s lying.

⤷ if you're tired? he's pulling you into his lap before you can blink. he’s like “you rest. i got it.” you don’t even know what “it” is. but he’s got it. apparently.

⤷ "you don't have to do everything alone anymore." <- said in a whisper. at 1:47am. when you tried to sneak out so he wouldn't see you cry. yeah. he saw. and now you're in his arms and he's not letting go until morning.

⤷ when he's in love he’s... warm. like that kind of warm that feels like sunshine on a cold day. or like a bath that runs the perfect temperature.

⤷ he remembers everything. like that one time you said you liked strawberry twizzlers?? there's a pack in your glovebox now. he swears he didn’t put it there. liar.

⤷ you call him in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream and he’s like “i’m coming over” and then he’s actually there. barefoot. in sweatpants. holding two mugs and looking worried

⤷ he loves all of you. not just the good stuff. he loves the mess. the overthinking. the crying. the way you squeak when you laugh. he calls it “his favorite sound.”

⤷ every time you fight. he comes back. every time. he won’t let you sleep mad. he’ll wait on your fire escape all night if he has to. says “i’m not leaving until we’re okay. even if you throw something at me.”

⤷ once tried to not fall in love with you. failed.

[draftbeerbibi]

FOR ME, IT WILL ALWAYS BE YOU - Sylus x Non MC!

Summery: you find yourself in lads universe after a particularly close interaction with truck kun. How does life go from here after arriving in the N109 zone leaders backyard when MC hasn’t arrived yet?

Disclaimer, Sylus might be OOC, since i’m not very good at writing so bear with me. This will be multiple parts! Also, this was not proofread, so sorry if there are mistakes!

WC: 7K

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

These past few months you had been working yourself to the absolute bone. Summer had started and the restaurant you worked at was packed every single day.

You worked hard to keep your smile on your face, but there had been an increase of the rudest people to ever grace the planet, and they all simultaneously decided to grace you with their presence.

Every single day was a battle. You didn’t feel like you fit in anymore, colleagues living their lives, while yours felt like it was stuck in place. Every day was the same shit over and over again.

And then it happened.

You were on your way home from a particularly difficult shift, anticipating flopping on the couch to unwind with some love and deepspace. A game you had been playing for over a year now, making everything doable, when out of the blue a truck slams into you at full speed.

You feel all the air get blown out of you, as bones break. You hear people screaming, yelling for an ambulance.

This is it?

After all your hard work, this is how you die?

You scoff as unconsciousness pulls at you.

You awake with a jolt. Artificial grass prickles at your skin as you take in your surroundings.

“Am i dead?” You mumble, looking around in shock. No hospital lights. No pain. No nothing. You’re about to stand up when you feel something around your waist. It tightens as it spins you around hard. A sharp hiss of pain slips out as you are turned to someone.

“Who are you, and how did you get in?” The voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you recognise it immediatly.

Sylus.

How could you not recognise him? You had spent everyday after work with him. Interacting with him in destiny cafe, praying for a day you might get to see him, even just for a second.

You stare at him blankly. How does one even explain this situation? Would he believe you? Why would he? Would you believe someone if they casually dropped that they were from a different universe?

Questions and answers course through your mind till you feel his evol tightening even more.

“I said, who are you, and how did you get in?” His voice was sharp and menacing. His eyes glowing a dark crimson, as the wind softly swayed his hair. He truly looked divine, even when shooting daggers at you with his gaze.

“I-i don’t know how i got here. One moment i was on my way home from work, and now i’m here.” You confess, fear tugging at your heartstrings. You had seen him on your phone screen countless of times, but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for how breathtaking this man was in real life.

His eyes narrowed as a mocking grin spread across his face.

“Right, i’m supposed to believe you just ‘happened’ to land in the most tightly secured backyard of the whole N109 zone.” He scoffed. His eyes roamed your body, his eyebrow slightly tilting as if contemplating. You didn’t look fit enough to pull off a stunt like this. Cuz ur not.

“Trust me, don’t you have camera’s here?” You plead, his evol still tight around your waist. You feel it prickling, almost like electricity. Uncomfortable.

He raises an eyebrow.

The twins emerge from behind him, and even with their masks on, you can feel their curiosity radiate off of every inch of them.

Without a word he steps in the house, with you still tightly bound in his evol. He gracefully steps into his office as he places you not so gently into a chair.

“I’m not really in the mood for ‘games’ right now, so i do truly hope you’re telling me the truth.” He cocks his brow at you as he settles into his chair. You can’t help but be mesmerised by the absolute power and control he radiates just from sitting down.

He knows what he’s doing. Always. Even the smallest things are thought out before they can happen. You look at his face as he checks the footage, and to his surprise which he manages to hide very quickly, you were telling the truth. One moment the backyard looks peaceful, unperturbed, and the next, you’re there. It happens in the blink of an eye. No lights, no fireworks, nothing. Just sudden existence.

He looks at you, almost through you as he contemplates.

"It seems like you were telling the truth, kitten" The way he enunciates the word kitten sends goosebumps flying over your arms. The timbre in his low voice echoes through his office. How on earth were you going to survive this?

"I told you, i mean, who would be foolish enough to break into your territory?" You all but scoff. It's true though. Breaking into his lair, which in and off itself is impossible, would be a death sentence. Sylus was soft and mellow with MC in the game, but he never extended his kindness to anyone else.

It's a war in your head. At least your innocence is proven, but what about the rest? With nowhere to stay, how were you going to convince big bad boss man to keep you alive long enough to look for a way back. Could you even go back? Are you dead in your world?

His voice snaps you out of the war going on in your head.

"Explain"

"Huh?" You look at him sheepishly.

"Explain how you ended up in my backyard. I don't sense that you have an evol, or, anything for that matter, so how on earth did you get here?" His eye softly glows in the dim office. His features sharp, as the moon accentuates every line. Divine.

"Like i said, i was on my way home from work when-" The thought of the truck stops you dead in your tracks. The feeling of your bones crushing and consiousness fading still lingering beneath your flesh.

"When i got in an 'accident', i guess." Your voice got softer with each passing word. It was hard to make sense of what was happening. Though it was a literal answered prayer to be face to face with Sylus, the circumstances were far from ideal.

"Accident?" You could hear the amusement in his tone, he was intrigued. However, the thought of going into the details made you want to throw up, so you decide to change the subject.

"Could i stay here?" You blurt out the question, wincing at the lack of thought. All you could think about was needing a place to stay, but you didn't mean to throw it out there so haphazardly.

He raises his eyebrow, a small smirk appears, so small anyone would have missed it. But not you. You have spent so much time with him, he basically felt like you knew him better then yourself.

"Hmm? Bold aren't we, kitten?" All you can do is stare at him, what else are you supposed to do? You were literally throwing yourself in the dragons lions den.

"Here's an idea, you can work for me, i'll give you a spare bedroom in the eastern wing, close to the twins. If i do manage to find anything on you though, you can count your days."

Your mouth is agape. It's that easy? Suspicion creeps up, how could it not? You knew Sylus, and you also knew you were not MC. What was in this for him? But you were bone dead tired. This whole ordeal had sucked every last ounce out of you, and against better judgement, you nod in agreement.

He smirks.

The sight of him looking all pleased sends a shiver down your spine. Excitement? Fear? Both? Who knows. All you knew, was that you were going to do everything you could to prove your worth.

~~~

Part 2!

[rafessecret]

Older rafe and younger y/n

Y/n locking her legs around him making him cum inside of her

⋆˚࿔ younger¡ reader && older¡rafe cameron

CUM IN ME RAFE.

You’re younger, but not a kid. Just fresh—soft in all the ways Rafe isn’t. You’ve got that glowy, untouched look about you. Big eyes, glossy lips, thighs kissed with baby oil and sunshine. You still giggle when you talk. Still blush when he says something dirty. Still wear those little skirts that barely graze your thighs and shirts so small they rise when you reach for anything. You look like sin and feel like heaven, and Rafe’s a man who’s spent too long pretending he doesn’t notice.

But tonight? He’s not pretending.

You’re in your bed, tangled in cotton sheets and innocence, and Rafe’s over you, heavy, hot, thick cock buried deep in your slick, needy cunt. His shirt is still on, bunched at the elbows, sleeves damp with sweat. You’re naked but for the bracelet he bought you last week. Pink crystals. Baby charm.

He knows better.

He shouldn’t be here. Not inside you. Not with your legs hooked high around his waist, back arching up like your body was made to take him. You’re sweet, soft, and still new to all this. And Rafe? He’s seen too much. Touched too much. He’s a man with lines carved deep in his skin and darker ones in his past.

But God, you make it so easy.

You whimper beneath him, glossy lips parted, head tilted back as you tighten your legs around his hips—ankles locking behind him like you’re afraid he’ll leave. Like you need him to stay. Like the thought of being empty again terrifies you.

Rafe groans, hips stuttering, cock thick and aching deep in your soaked, fluttering cunt. Your pussy clamps around him like a vice, greedy and throbbing, all slick heat and pulsing desperation. ❝Don’t,❞ he breathes, voice frayed and breaking apart. ❝Baby, I’m close. I have to—fuck—I have to pull out.❞

You shake your head, shameless, drunk on it. ❝Don’t want you to.❞ You’re barely even whispering. ❝Want it. Want you to cum inside.❞ He stares down at you like you’ve cursed him. Like you’ve just ripped open his chest and crawled inside. His brows are pinched tight. His thrusts go shallow. His jaw clenches like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

❝What?❞ he growls. ❝Please, Rafe. I want it. Want to feel it.❞ Your fingers press into his back; your lips brush his throat. Your voice is syrup-sweet and ruined. He curses again, jaw ticking, breathing ragged. ❝Are you on the pill? Fuck, tell me you’re on the fucking pill.❞ You nod. Slowly. ❝Mhm. I am.❞

But he sees it—the way your lips twitch, the breath you skip, the way your cunt clenches even tighter around him, like it’s lying too. Like it wants it more than anything. ❝You sure?❞ he asks, panting. His eyes dark, fixed to yours. ❝Because if I stay in you, if I fucking cum in this tight little pussy—you’re mine. Do you understand me? Mine.❞ You nod again, breath catching. ❝I already am.❞

And that’s it. That’s the thing that rips the last bit of restraint from his body. He fucks forward hard—deep—his cock dragging against every slick, clenching inch inside you, splitting you open, filling you so full you swear you feel it in your belly. He ruts against your cervix, and you gasp, head thrown back, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels.

❝Fuck, baby,❞ he groans, nose brushing yours, his voice breaking. ❝You feel that stretch? That’s me, sweetheart. That’s my cock pushing so deep it’s showing through your tummy.❞ And you do—you can feel it. One of his big hands slides between your bodies, pressing to your lower stomach where you’re bulging just slightly. He curses low. You moan higher.

❝You’re so fucking tight, baby. Fuck—your pussy’s fluttering.❞ His eyes roll as he ruts into you deeper, harder, more desperate now. ❝Like it’s milking me. Like it fucking needs it.❞ You whine, high and broken. ❝It does. I do. Rafe—please.❞

It’s all so wet. The sounds are obscene. Skin slapping. Your whimpers. His grunts. The sloppy squelch every time he drags it out of you just to slam right back in. You’re gasping now, clinging to him, legs shaking as that heat coils tighter, hotter, meaner. ❝Come inside,❞ you cry, your voice cracking. ❝Please, Rafe. I want to feel it. Want to feel you fill me up.❞ He breaks.

He shouts your name, hips stuttering as he bottoms out, cock twitching, and then he’s flooding you—thick, hot, endless. You feel it spill deep, feel it leak out around the base of his cock even as he keeps grinding into you, milking every last drop. It’s too much. You shatter with him, orgasm crashing over you as your cunt squeezes him impossibly tight.

Your back arches. Your body trembles. You sob his name, nails dragging down his shoulders, mouth open in a silent scream. He holds you there through it all, buried deep, whispering filth against your cheek. When it’s over, you’re both wrecked. Panting. Slick with sweat, cum and heat. Rafe slumps over you, arms trembling, breath shaky as he presses kisses to your cheek, your jaw, and your swollen lips. ❝Fuck, baby… fuck. Look at you.❞

He pulls out slowly, and you both hiss at the mess. His cum drips out of your swollen, red pussy, thick and shiny, painting your thighs, the sheets, everything. You look ruined. Precious. Marked. He groans again. ❝You know what you just did?❞ he asks, brushing your hair back. ❝You just made me yours. Forever.❞

And you smile up at him—eyes soft, lashes fluttering, still trembling—with your legs wide open and his cum leaking out of you like you’ve never been more proud. And when he finally lifts his head, when his eyes meet yours, there’s something dark there. ❝You lied, didn’t you?❞ You blink, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. He smirks. Leans in, mouth brushing your neck. ❝Doesn’t matter. You’re mine now anyway.❞

── ⋆ 𝐲𝐚𝐩 : thanks anon! not sure if this was meant for a specific au, but oh well, hope you like it! <3

── ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @scne-vampire @browniepop62 @urcoolgf @folksriddle

©RAFESSECRET ⋆˚࿔ est. 2025

[deansbeer]

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐌.

♡ ⋮ my content is not suitable for minors.

꒰ paired duo ꒱ simon riley x female!reader.

꒰ synopsis ꒱ he fucks you so deep, worshipping every inch of you, and can’t get enough of how beautiful you look.

꒰ content warnings ꒱ smut | rough sex | size kink | stomach bulge | breast worship | mentions of titfucking (𖬺𖬺 implied) | overstimulation | dirty talk | praising kink | possessiveness | obsession | soft degradation | creampie | minimal plot.

꒰ sticky notes ꒱ i pray this phase never leaves me. he’s so yummy MY GOD. nobody could physically pull me off of him.

i tried remembering who to tag from my taglist for simon — and this’ll be the only time it’s used. <3

you don’t remember how it started — not clearly, anyway.

maybe it was the way he looked at you when you bent over to grab something off the floor, or the way you sat on his lap earlier, teasing just to see if he’d flinch. maybe it was the way you wore nothing but his t-shirt to bed, knowing damn well he wouldn’t last long seeing you like that.

either way, it doesn’t matter now.

because he’s got you on your back, legs spread wide, your knees almost to your shoulders as he fucks into you like he’s trying to make a home there — like he’s been waiting all damn day to get this deep. and he is deep. so deep it hurts in that sweet, swollen way. your belly is tight, the pressure unbearable and perfect, and you can’t stop the way your fingers claw into the sheets, breath hitching every time he drives forward.

and then he does it — leans back just enough to look down where your bodies meet, broad hand splaying across your stomach, eyes going dark when he sees it.

“fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, voice low and thick, like he’s not sure whether to groan or laugh. “you see this, luv?”

you blink up at him, dazed, chest heaving. “wh-what?”

he presses down gently, thumb dragging over the bulge that forms every time his cock thrusts into you. “right here,” he says, slow, like he’s savoring every word. “thas’ me. you’re so fuckin’ full, i can see myself inside your tummy.”

your breath catches. your back arches.

“s-so big,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut.

he growls low in his throat — not angry, just possessive, filthy with it. “yeh? can feel how deep i am, can’t you? stretchin’ this pretty cunt to take every inch.”

you nod, helpless. ruined.

he leans over you again, weight pressing you into the mattress, hand braced beside your head, the other sliding under your thigh to lift it higher, open you wider. his hips snap forward, hard, and the bed creaks loud beneath you — a sharp, desperate noise that matches the rhythm of your breathing.

“listen to that,” he mutters, lips dragging along your jaw. “bed’s about to give out. ya hear it?”

you nod again, letting out a soft mewl.

“don’ care,” he growls, fucking into you harder. “let it snap. let the whole fuckin’ thing collapse. i’ll still be right here, cock buried so deep you’ll never forget it.”

you can’t think. can’t speak. every nerve ending is on fire, everything centered on the way he fills you, the way he owns you like this.

and then his hand slides up your body, rough palm cupping one of your breasts, squeezing like he’s wanted to for hours.

“bloody hell, baby,” he groans. “these tits…”

his thumb brushes over your nipple, slow and deliberate, and you keen under him, hips twitching.

“so fuckin’ soft,” he murmurs, leaning down to mouth at your chest, sucking a bruise into the skin just above your nipple. “ya know how long ‘ve wanted to fuck these?”

you gasp, thighs trembling. “baby—”

“gonna do it next time,” he promises, voice thick with lust. “wanna see my cock slidin’ between ‘em. wanna come all over the pretty curves i love so much.”

you moan, high and broken.

he grins — not the cruel kind, not the cocky kind — just full of need. like he’s just as desperate as you are. like he’s been waiting to say these things forever.

“look so fuckin’ gorgeous when you’re like this,” he says, gaze locked on your face. “all fucked-out. needy. clingin’ to me like i’m the only thing that can make ya come.”

you are. he is.

your hands claw at his back, dragging him closer, and he groans when your nails catch on his skin.

“thas’ it,” he growls. “hold on to me. take it. fuckin’ take it, baby.”

he shifts his angle just slightly and hits something inside you that makes your vision go white for a second. your back arches, legs twitch, and you cry out his name, voice cracking.

“there it is,” he coos, slowing down just enough to grind into that spot over and over. “righ’ there, huh? that sweet spongy little spot that always makes you come all over my cock.”

you’re babbling now — half words, half moans, tears pricking at your eyes from just how much it is. the stretch, the pressure, the overwhelming fullness of him.

“gonna give it to you,” he mutters, low and dark, hips stuttering. “gonna fill ya up, let you feel me long after i’m gone. let you drip with me all fuckin’ day.”

you dig your fingers into his arms, thighs trembling, body tight as a bowstring.

“please,” you gasp, voice barely audible. “please, simon—”

he shushes you gently, lips brushing your temple.

“i got you,” he whispers. “gonna come with you, baby. come inside this perfect little cunt. make you mine all over again.”

and when you come, it’s like falling.

your body locks up, pussy squeezing tight around him, and he swears, loud and wrecked, as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. not until he’s grinding into you as deep as he can go, cock twitching, warmth spreading as he comes inside you with a low, guttural moan.

you’re both shaking, breathless, stuck in it.

he stays buried in you for a long moment after, forehead resting against yours, breath ghosting over your lips. his hand comes up to brush hair from your face, and he kisses you — slow, soft, like he’s trying to bring you back to earth.

“you alright?” he murmurs, finally.

you nod, still dazed. “yeah. fuck. yeah.”

he smiles — small, rare, real.

he pulls out slow, and you whimper at the loss. he watches the way his come leaks out of you, eyes heavy-lidded, possessive.

“don’ move,” he says, voice back to that rough, commanding tone. “wanna see you just like this a little longer.”

you nod, weakly, and he leans over to press another kiss to your chest, then your stomach.

“next round,” he says, eyes flicking up to yours with a dangerous glint, “you’re on top. wanna watch those perfect tits bounce while you ride me.”

and from the way your body clenches at the promise, he knows you’re already thinking about it too.

💬 babydoll tags 👼🏻 ʕ ྀི ܸ. . .ܸ ྀིʔ ֹ ᥀ ׄ ۪ @bruisedfig @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @beausling @honeyyxxbee @acaibcwl @funkycoloured @blue-d @bluestrd @fuckedupfate @jensenacklesballsack @pinkitty97 @ghostlythots

[sponsored-deactivated20210106]

I have an uneasy feeling about this.

The Trump Panzootic is still in full swing (he takes credit for everything; let's give him credit for everything), with transmission of course from birds to cats because cats eat birds (and are exposed to dead birds). Fortunately, humans don't eat very many cats, so that somewhat lowers the transmissibility and evolution of the virus.

Humans do, however, love themselves some chicken. Chick-fil-A? Yes, please! (Oh, wait, I don't like their politics — boycott Chick-fil-A!) Bird to human transmission? Coming right up! Fortunately we have the USDA and FDA to keep infected birds out of our food supply!

Oh, we have Trump and RFKjr rn. nvm.

After that, human-to-human transmission is the next "leap" in the virus's evolution. Will the Trump HHS even know if that's happening?

I said Chick-fil-A for a couple reasons.

One: is their close Baptist SBC conservatism ties them politically to Trump, memorably hosting Trump in Atlanta, where he proclaimed, "That's the Lord's chicken!" while he was lewdly oogling the buxom young teens in their Chick-fil-A uniforms. I shit you not.

So, they have privileged access and pull with the RFKjr and the relevant government agencies.

Two: is how Chick-fil-A got their start — the mindset and agenda behind how the business is run. It was called The Dwarf House and it didn't serve chicken. Then Mr. S. Truett Cathy got a deal he couldn't refuse from a local poultry processor (slaughterhouse) — all the frozen chicken breasts rejected from their main business making airline meals. "Leftovers" that were too small or fell on the floor or mutilated, but dirt cheap. So Mr. Cathy changed his menu to chicken sandwiches and changed the name to ... Chick-fil-A.

If there were H1N5 chickens to be had for cheap, I don't think the vaccine-denying, "Covid's not real" management would think twice.

( * it's not guaranteed to jump from infected chicken sandwiches to customers, as most of Chick-fil-A's chicken seems to be pressure cooked at high temperature. I don't know enough about the virus or the cooking method to reach a conclusion about that. What I do know is that the Chick-fil-A workers will be exposed due to handling and preparing if there is tainted chicken. Human-to-human transmission to the customers — and Chick-fil-A is popular — well we'd have to wait and see what that'll look like, since the US isn't doing gain-of-function research anymore, apparently.)

It doesn't have to be Chick-fil-A, but it could be, and Americans eat a lot of chicken. USDA Sec. Brooke Rollins keeps talking about stopping testing and culling — how bad could it be?

This is all factual and true so far.

The conspiracy theory, or rather: hypothesis, is that in Trump's regime there are individuals intelligent enough (asking too much?) to understand what's going on and where this is headed and, in the midst of all the chaos caused by Trump, they *want* something like this to happen. I'm not conjecturing who such parties are nor what they seek to gain, nor even speculate as to whom they seek most to harm — only that they're there, right now, within Trump's regime, watching the Trump Panzootic with glee.

Thank you for reading: I write original conspiracy theories sometimes here at @sponsored-deactivated20210106 ...in the best ranting, typo-filled screed (as befits the genre), best that I can manage while on hold or waiting for the bus. I am always annoyed by the sheeple, incapable of any critical thoughts, who regurgitate ad nauseum some bizarre Kremlin propaganda or other State-sponsored narrative, like "jet fuel doesn't burn; the Jews blew up the WTC towers" (Saudi Arabia) — or religious cult dogma, "flat Earth but the Government is covering it up" and "evolution isn't real and the Earth is 6k years-young!" (Biblical Literalists and Young Earth Creationists). I encourage you to do your own research, but even more important than that: I encourage you to think critically and be contrarian even to the contrarians. There's an infinite amount of inaccurate and incorrect information and beliefs, much of it quite harmful. It doesn't matter where you start very much as long as you iterate towards congruence with reality, and continuously refine what that reality is.

i feel like i'm watching a car crash in slow motion

[landoughnut]

Mr. Darcy Who? - LN4

masterlist - request

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: you're a book influencer dating lando, and when interviewed, he admits he's gotten into reading because of you (requested)

w/c & a/n: smau | thank you for the request! I didn't know if you wanted an smau or not so I picked, I'm sorry if you wanted written!

yourusername

liked by lando, mclaren, alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, and 3,192,487 others yourusername new rec video dropping soon! you all asked for summer recs, so you all shall receive summer recs 🌸

view all comments

lando my precious beautiful girl who I love so dearly 🥰

yourusername why are you saying that like you did something wrong...

lando yourusername I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING??? jeez a guy can't love his girlfriend these days without being blamed for something 🙄

lando when you finish annotating that book can I have it pretty please with two and a half cherries on top 🥺

yourusername why only two and a half

lando yourusername because im eating half of the third, duh 😋

oscarpiastri lando another book? you called me crying at the ending of iron flame

yourusername lando EXCUSE ME?? YOU CALL OSCAR INSTEAD OF ME?? ARE YOU JOKINGGGGGGG

lando yourusername IM SORRY MY SWEET LOVE I WAS EMBARRASSED

yourusername lando oh I'll show you embarrassed. if you dare to rant to someone other than ME about MY books that you stole, I'm telling everyone what book you wanted to buy

lando yourusername dully noted 😅 I'll make it up to you tonight

mclaren lando here we go again...

user1 do my eyes deceive me?? lando... reading????

yourusername I'm turning him into a book boyfriend, you're welcome ladies 🤗

user2 yourusername I'm jealous 😪

lando yourusername what even is a book boyfriend... I don't know what a morally gray love interest is but apparently I am one

yourusername lando details aren't necessary love, but yes you are 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

user3 lando a book boyfriend is the male love interest that girls in the book community all obsess over together

lando yourusername YOU HAVE OTHER BOYFRIENDS????

yourusername lando oh my gosh THEY ARE FICTIONAL

yourusername user3 WHYYYY would you tell him that now he's never going to stop bothering me

alexandrasaintmleux wow I need to learn how to be you asap

yourusername girly pop I'm trying to be YOU

yourusername also look at my baby fluffykins is he adorable

user4 almost as cute at you 😉

lando user4 bye.

user5 did I miss something? since when does LANDO read?

user6 when they started dating a little over a year ago! she has a YouTube channel about books and met him at an event and started dating, then I guess he just picked it up from stealing her books

lilyzneimer we should go to barnes together!

yourusername omg yes pleaseee 🥹 I'll plan it

lilyzneimer yourusername yayy! 🤭

skysportsf1

liked by lando, yourusername, f1, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 1,284,536 others skysportsf1 lando finally speaks about how he's always so calm before racing! here's the secret (or not anymore): he said he either reads one of yourusernames annotated books or facetimes her so she can read to him 📖

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user6 AWWWWWW THAT'S SO CUTE 🥹

user7 damn I'm feeling extra single now...

yourusername my baby looks so handsome omg

lando I love you.

yourusername I love you most 😚

user8 the way he said "her voice is more calming than anything I could ask for" I'm gonna cry

user10 okay but what kinda books is he reading

yourusername well I read every genre so he usually just picks whatever book with a cover that sticks out to him, right now he's reading the republic by plato

user11 yourusername DANGGG I didn't know he new sophistication like that

yourusername user11 believe it or not but he actually got into philosophy recently!

user12 HELLO? why is no one talking about how he immediately smiles when the interviewer - or anyone for that matter - mentions her

user13 I KNOWW its adorable look at him blushinggg 🥹

user14 she's living the life bro, dating an f1 driver and having my dream career

lando erm actually 🤓 I'm living the life cause I get to wake up next to her every morning

user14 lando so you want me to go sleep on the highway

yourusername lando AWHHH ILY SO SO MUCH COME KISS ME

lando yourusername 🏃🏃

maxverstappen1 you two are disgusting

lando maxverstappen1 just say you're jealous and move on

yourusername the amount of times he's fallen asleep on me reading to him a few hours before the race starts is crazy

user15 I swear he feels so safe with her

lando baby don't rat me out 😭

yourusername lando but I love when you do because then I get to secretly braid your hair 😊

lando yourusername believe it or not but I'm usually half awake and just pretend to sleep cause its so relaxing

yourusername lando of course you do 🙄 just ask me next time

user16 if they’re not married by the next season I’m suing.

carlossainz55 why are you always giggling when you talk about her

lando excuse me for being in a happy and healthy relationship

lando

liked by yourusername, f1, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, and 2,491,638 others lando thank you my love for introducting me to books, they relax me almost as much as making out with you 🤗

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yourusername baby I love you but the last part really wasn't necessary 😭

mclaren agreed

lando but its true 🥺

charles_leclerc I agree with your girlfriend tmi 🤢

lando charles_leclerc okay well no one asked you 😒

f1 best couple award goes to:

carlossainz55 I remember the days when you had a crush on her and was too nervous to start a conversation 😂 poor guy would stutter everytime she looked at him from across the room

lando I dont know what you are talking about. don't believe him everyone he's lying.

maxverstappen1 lando he's not 🙂 and I think I also remember you buying your own pride and prejudice cause you binge watched all her videos and knew it was her favorite book

lando .... well fuck me then I guess it's spill all of lando's secrets day 😄

yourusername lando ARE THEY TELLING THE TRUTH??? 🥹

lando yourusername I guess....... maybe.....

yourusername lando YOU ARE SO CUTE I CAN'T 🥹

user17 lando is setting the standards high dang

pierregasly user17 fr he's making me look bad

user18 what book did you read before the Imola gp

lando wuthering heights (yourusername's pick)

lando though tbh I wasn't paying attention for most of it cause she was playing with my hair and I couldn't keep my eyes open

user19 I PRAY THIS LOVE FINDS ME UGHHH

oscarpiastri so like no one wants to hear about to two lip locking

lando so like too bad 😝

maxfewtrell tell her to come onto the next stream I miss my bestie

yourusername MISS YOU MORE KING

lando oh so SHE'S you're best friend now?? what am I???

maxfewtrell lando my best friends boyfriend

lando maxfewtell I'll block you bitch

user20 NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT HER DRESS BRO I'M OBSESSED PLEASE DROP THE LINK

lando my extremely talented love made it herself actually‼️ she looks beautiful in it doesn't she

user21 lando so she really is just perfect

lando user21 she is 😍 hey siri, play perfect by one direction

[petalbcrnes]

◌ㅤㅤ𝅼ㅤㅤʚɞㅤㅤ𝓙𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 ’n 𝐈𝐓-𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!reader hcs.

♡ · 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 ── continuation of the 𝓙𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 paired w/ it-girl!reader one-shot request, but now with headcanons.

⊹ 💬 · getting through request day by day,, do not mind the moodboard pictures. they are only here for vibes and do not dictate what reader looks like. it was not specified if anon wanted a nsfw section so i did not add it. only sfw here. this is more or a domestic version on the one-shot<3

♡ · REQUEST ── ❛ i neeeeeeed hcs with it girl reader i am obsessed with that trope now ❜

ഒ DIRECTORY⠀;⠀RULES⠀;⠀TALK W/ ME.

Jason didn’t think he’d even deserve your affections—loud in presence, stunningly confident, and always in the center of attention, but never had it felt like too much, you were balanced—you disarmed him with your sincerity. You saw him, not just the headlines or the Red Hood persona.

You make him feel grounded, while he makes you feel safe. You’re light in a way that doesn’t ignore the dark—you just carry it with grace. You have your own problems, he has his. Considering the glamour of your life, you don’t ignore the less savory parts of it all.

You post soft, candid pictures of him on your socials. He pretends to hate it, grumbling about it every time, but secretly saves all of them.

You dress to kill, and Jason jokes that you’re more dangerous than him with a gun. He would definitely carry your heels for you when your feet start to cramp from them. He does that princess carry too.

Bruce definitely raised an eyebrow the first time he saw you (he’s happy for you two, I promise). Alfred? He loved you instantly. He’s probably the first one that found out about you two.

Your friend group can’t believe you’re dating the guy who looks like he’d bench press anyone who looks at him wrong—until they see how he looks at you like you hung the stars. After that they tease you non-stop about Jason.

You can sweet-talk your way past GCPD roadblocks, club lines, and cranky neighbors. Jason usually just—… glowers. It's a solid duo.

Jason will never say it out loud, but after bad nights, he finds you—wherever you are—and buries himself in your space until the world feels real again.

He keeps a picture of you everywhere goes—tucked away where no one would see. It's one where you're laughing so hard your eyes are closed. You keep a picture of him in your wallet.

He once saw someone being rude to you at an event and got this close to going full Red Hood. You stopped him—barely.

Your vanity is covered in your beauty products and Jason’s stuff—cologne, spare ammo, bandages. It’s chaos and you love it.

You have zero chill when it comes to gift-giving. See something that reminds you of him? Bought. Expensive custom leather jacket? Already tailored to his measurements. He asks how you got them—you wink.

You once gave him a limited-edition motorcycle helmet that matched his Red Hood gear. He stared at it for a full minute before going.

“This costs more than my whole apartment, babe.” “Good thing you basically live in mine, then.”

You send him flowers. Yes, you send Jason Todd flowers—big dramatic arrangements with black dahlias or red roses, depending on your mood. He pretends to grumble but keeps every single card in a box under his bed.

You once said you had a bad day and he brought you flowers too—not the store kind, but ones he picked himself on a rooftop mission. (He made the bouquet himself, too).

“They reminded me of you. Pretty. A little dangerous.”

You stock your kitchen with his comfort foods. Even the obscure ones.

You cook for him sometimes, even if it’s just simple things. He acts like it’s the best meal he’s ever had—(it probably is. I stand by the hc that this man struggles to cook). He didn’t grow up with that kind of care.

You pay attention. He never says what he needs, but you know.

“Your gloves are torn—already ordered new ones.”

You buy matching silk robes. His is black. Yours is ivory. He never wears it around anyone but you, but he’s obsessed with how it feels.

You spoil him emotionally, too. With praise. With care. You tell him,

“You don’t have to earn this. Just let yourself have it.”

Jason is so flustered by being spoiled. His first instinct is suspicion, followed by awkward gratitude, followed by silently trying to return the favor tenfold.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

He wears one of your rings on a chain under his shirt when he’s out doing Red Hood things. A small, glittering reminder of home.

Jason is weak for you in silk. Weak for you in over-sized hoodies. Weak for you period. You know it, and you tease him endlessly. It’s heartwarming to know that someone loves you without needing to perform for them.

You love tugging at the collar of his leather jacket just to pull him closer. He never complains.

He gets flustered when you post.

“Really? In that dress? And tagging me? You tryna get me killed, pretty?”

What’s it like when he is jealous? The circumstances of your job and social circle truly change his reaction.

Jason is ridiculously territorial but tries so hard to play it cool. (Keyword: tries). He’ll stay silent for a beat, then mutter,

“He kept touching your arm. I counted four times.”

He doesn’t get jealous because he doesn’t trust you—it’s because he knows how people look at you. Your industry is a very dangerous one. It may not have guns and bullets like he’s used too, but he knows the risks.

You once flirted with a bartender just a little to get a free drink—Jason spent the rest of the night teasing you like:

“Should I dye my hair blonde? Clearly I’ve got competition.” (He’s an ass, affectionately).

You tease him about it constantly.

“Awe, is my big bad Red Hood jealous of a guy in a bow-tie?”

Secretly, you love how unguarded he is in those moments. He cares so deeply it spills out.

Jason learns your skincare routine and buys you replacements when you run low. Even the complicated ones with French names he can’t pronounce.

He comes home late sometimes and finds you asleep on the couch waiting for him. He’ll cover you with his jacket, crouch down, and whisper,

“I’m here. Go back to sleep, pretty.”

You keep a little emergency first aid kit in your designer purse—for him. Bandages, painkillers, alcohol wipes. He teases you for it—“my own personal nurse,”—but when you patch him up gently, he looks at you like you invented light.

You do his hair when it gets too long. He closes his eyes, resting his head in your lap like it’s the first moment of peace he’s had all day.

He’s so utterly in love, it’s ridiculous. So are you, though.

© petalbcrnes | all rights reserved. these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified. viewer discretion is advised.

[nineteenninety-six]

Maybe Robby's daughter is dating someone from Er? I imagine Robby being a jealous father. It's all a funny situation, haha.

Pairings: Frank Langdon x Reader, Michael Robinavitch x daughter!reader

AN: It's short, I apologise.

Your giggles are muffled against Frank’s lips as he tries his hardest to make the most out of the five minutes you had together. 

Your relationship was a secret one, kept between only the two of you, mostly out of Frank’s fear of your father’s reaction and despite your attempts to assure him that your father will be relatively fine with it, Frank feared his mentor's reaction. So aside from dates that were held far from the hospital and the chance of bumping into one of his colleagues being decreased, you had these little chance moments. 

You had initially only come to the hospital to drop some things off for your father but he was busy with a patient- but Frank was free and so he dragged you into a supply closet and pulled you into a kiss. 

“We’re gonna get caught” You murmur through kisses. 

Frank pulled away enough so that you could see him roll his eyes, “It’s been almost a year and we haven’t got caught, that’s not going to change now”

“That’s because we’ve never been kissing in the supply closet at the hospital” You remind him, “Quite literally anyone can walk in here.”

“And who’s gonna tell?” Frank shrugs, “The only person currently here who might be Dana and all I have to do is beg a little and she won't say anything.”

You stare at him for a moment before conceding with a nod, “Okay…you’re right”

“Of course I am” Frank winks at you before his hands cup your face and pull you into another kiss.

You lose track of time while you’re in the closet with Frank but it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes when the door is open, spilling white artificial light on both of them.

“Frank? Why are you-what the hell?!” Your father freezes in his steps, eyes wide as he catches you.

As you and Frank stare wide eyed at your father, he hurriedly closes the door behind him, trapping all three of you in the cramped supply closet.

“Robby…” Frank attempts to speak and explain but a heavy glare from your dad makes him retreat into his shell.

“Dad…” This time you attempt to speak, hoping that your dad would be softer with you and he is but it just means that his glare is less angry.

“What the hell did I just walk into?” Your dad crosses his arms as he looks at you and Frank for answers, “Does anyone want to answer?”

You and Frank exchange looks before you step forward figuring it would be better if you spoke since your dad was always soft with you.

“Frank and I…we’ve been seeing each other for a while now-“

“How long is ‘a while’?” Your dad interrupts.

You hesitate before you answer “…A year”

You’re pretty sure your dads eyebrows disappear into his hairline after he hears your answer.

“This has been going on for a year and what…you didn’t think it was important to tell me?”

“I was worried about your reaction” You admit, “Frank is your senior resident and I know it would complicate things.”

“Why do you think it’ll complicate things?”

You roll your eyes at your dad playing dumb, “Oh come on. You get weird with every guy I date. You act cold and standoffish and if you do that to Frank then it just doesn’t affect us! It affects everyone at the hospital if you get mean with him.”

“I can be professional” Your dad defends himself. 

“Sure but let’s not act as if you wouldn’t make it awkward”

Your dad doesn’t even attempt to look ashamed as he shrugs. 

“I do really love your daughter, Dr Robby” Frank speaks up as he steps forward, “And I apologise for uh-keeping it a secret.”

Your father stares at him silently for a moment before he turns back to you, "You chose Langdon, out of everyone?"

Frank makes an offended noise behind you at your fathers words.

"Would you prefer I dated Jack?" You ask, knowing your father's close relationship with Dr Abbot.

A frown forms on your fathers face at your words, realising that you were right.

"Can I speak to Frank alone?" 

At those words, Frank's hand darts out and wraps around your arm, squeezing it in panic as he stares at you with wide eyes, silently begging you not to leave him alone with your father.

"Sure" You chirp with a smile.

It takes a few tugs to free yourself from Frank's hold and the last thing you see before you close the supply closet door behind you as you leave is Frank's panicked and wide gaze as it flickered between you and your dad.

[rhube]

It's the same as the advertising data scam, where a million companies have been founded scraping the web for your 'interests' and 'demographics', which is fed to advertising companies who won't actually invest in good advertising that's fun and engaging (those 80s Clark's shoes ads, anyone? if you were a small AFAB, 40 years on, you know) and they just fire flashing auto-play ads at you every 3 minutes, not selling you anything, but making apps and websites unusable.

I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir here, but most of the tech industry is in a toxic, codependent relationship with VCs who demand an impossible return on investment. The VCs don't expect to own any company more than 4 years, so everything has to be 'fast, fast, fast!' to create the illusion of a profit every quarter.

No one has the time for research. No one cares if anything actually works. Or if they do, they work themselves into burnout and get fired for quit or made redundant in the latest round of 'cutting salaries makes selectively presented graphs go up!'

AI is perfect for this. It's everything NTFs and Blockchain was, but sanitised for the mainstream and putting out the intoxicating aroma of, 'You can replace your workers with this, and all it costs is the planet and the arts!' And VCs never cared about the planet or the arts.

Tech companies require huge investment, so they are all hoping to attract that sweet, sweet, VC money, so the industry is locked in a pattern of 'move fast and break things' with zero time for reflection on whether they've actually done anything that made people's lives better. But because the industry is generally paid three, four, five times the average salary, it's very hard to convince a lot of well-rewarded tech bros that the do not in fact shit gold and puke rainbows.

I say this knowing full well I am reblogging from a techy who isn't like that, but many are, and even where the devs, the tech writers, the UI designers, the researchers, QA etc all work under a harmonious Agile ethos of trying to do the best job they can, respecting one another and the customers, upper management and executives generally just Don't. And those people ultimately dictate what everyone else does.

Having got myself all worked up, I remembered a thing.

Brain fog vagueness, but I heard on Radio 4 for that they (UK people, possibly the government, I can't remember) are planning to or hoping to make investment more transparent to small investors. If you have a pension, you are almost certainly a stock holder. But unlike Goldman Sachs, you don't get an invite to quarterly meetings where companies report on how well they are doing. Big capitalist companies don't generally care if there have been a lot of layoffs behind the numbers going up, but you do. Big capitalist companies don't care if staff are still getting good benefits, but you do. Big capitalist companies don't give a shit about DEI, but you do.

And it's your money. Your investment. And you have a right to ask the questions that make it clear you value people and useful products over money. You have a right to be in those meetings. You have to right to know they're happening.

That's the idea anyway. Apparently, companies are resisting it as 'impossible', but this guy who knows more about stuff than me seemed to think it was perfectly possible to send an email to every person who is an investor. The main reason they don't want you there is they want to move fast and break things and make cash cash money, and you actually care about what gets broken.

I'll shut up now.

part of what pisses me off so much about AI is how confident all pro-AI people are that it can do basically anything when there's literally no evidence that it can do anything even remotely well. it really feels like the only thing keeping this industry going is the refusal of anyone with any amount of money and power to hit these losers with a [citation needed]

[laurrelise]

finally started reading sunrise on the reaping and here are my thoughts so far :))

oh my GOD oh my god what the HELL oh my FUCKING GOD my GOD holy SHIT what the HELL i was not PREPARED i am in devastation i will never be ok again don’t talk to me i am in pain