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fluoneia · 3 days ago
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sypnosis. continuation of pitfighter!vi. vi’s drink at the rink is spiked with something she’d never experienced before. she goes back to the brothel in the hopes of finding you.
warnings. smut (17+), aphrodisiacs, switch (mostly sub)!vi, kind of period sex? idk. no major part of it, lowkey angsty at the end
a/n. oh my gahhh guys u don’t understand how happy i am to get requests you guys r so sweet please leave more !! and GUYSSS i LIVE for sub!vi i’m so happy for this request
arcane masterlist ✯
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vi never thought she’d get herself so deep into this. into you. she went to babette’s in the first place for a quick release, yet, she found herself enveloped in you. obsessed with you. every thought was about you, about how you made her feel.
but tonight, she had the overwhelming urge to see you. to devour you..
or maybe, for you to devour her?
vi didn’t care. so long as she could return to the feeling you gave her a week ago.
“babette.” vi would husk as she falls into the brothel, catching herself on the desk. “where is she?”
“who, darling?” babette’s eyebrows furrow.
“her. dammit.” vi pushed off the desk, stalking down the hallway. she ripped each and every curtain open, looking for your face, for you. she didn’t care seeing the other girls breasts, she didn’t care seeing the cocks and the horrified faces as she glanced in every room looking for you.
she didn’t understand why. she’d never felt this much desire for a person, but yet, here she was. she wanted you, wanted that feeling she had.
her mind fogs as it fills with images from the week before. she remembered your sweet whispers, the feeling of your hands on her body, violating her, pleasuring her in a way she had never been pleasured before.
vi would never consider herself a bottom. but right now, she didn’t care for titles. she just wanted you.
but, when she doesn’t find you in any of the rooms, her heart yearns. she storms back to the front-desk.
“where the fuck is she?!” vi nearly damn whines. she didn’t understand why she was so desperate.
“violet. who are you talking about?”
“the girl! last week, i was here, and there was a new girl here. where is she?”
“oh, you mean.. y/n?” babette chuckles. “oh, you’re not the first one back for seconds, honey. it seems she made an impression on you.”
vi feels a rush of anger. she knew this is what you did for work, yet, she couldn’t help the raw anger in her heart as she thought of someone else with you, taking those sweet gasps, your moans and words that haunted her thoughts.
vi wanted to be the only one doing that to you. making you writhe, cry. she wanted you to be the only one that did that to her.
“she went home. you can always come back next week.”
“next week?” vi’s breath hitches in her throat.
“she took the week off. you know how this job is, it can be draining.”
and it feels like vi’s breath can’t keep up with herself. she glanced back down the hallway, before snapping her head back to babette.
“where does she live?”
“i’m afraid i can’t give you that information.”
“dammit, babette!” vi slams her fist against the desk. why was she trying so hard? why was she so desperate?
she stills as she hears footsteps behind her. delicate, soft.
“it’s you.” you whisper behind her, and oh, your sweet, sweet voice nearly makes her legs give out.
it’s like everything clicks back together in her head. every nerve comes alive, sending cold shivers down her body, when she hears your voice.
“y/n, honey, what are you doing back?” babette asks you.
“oh, i just came to drop a few things off.” you shrug. your heart beats faster as you feel vi’s eyes on you. you were used to clients coming back, but she was different. she wasn’t like the other clients, vi was.. something else.
you spare a glance at her, and you gasp at her dishevelled state. vi suddenly remembered she never even asked for your name. now, she knew it.
“so, i’d.. id better get going.” you clear your throat, turning on your heel.
“wait—“ vi grabs your wrist, but you pull away. she walked behind you. “wait, wait, just—“
“i’m afraid i can’t be of service to you.” you shake your head, finally stopping. “one of the other girls can take you.”
“i don’t want the other girls.” vi exasperates, “shit— i want you.”
you feel your breath hitch in your throat.
truth is, you couldn’t be of service to her. you were on your period, which is why you were given the week off.
you turn to look at her. she’s heaving, moving closer to you. you see her lips are chapped from the air, and this time her face was clean from the face paint she had on last time.
“violet, i..”
as soon as you said her name, it’s like anything vi had left of any sort of will is gone. she grabs onto you, pressing you back, your back hitting the wall with a thud.
she’s panting. her hot breath hits your lips.
“you need to help me.” vi whispers as she cranes her neck, pressing her face against your neck, breathing in your scent like it was all the oxygen she needed.
“what’s up with you?” your brows furrowed, hands releasing to grab her face and pull her back. now closer, you can see her pupils are blown out.
and suddenly, you remembered rumours of a new drug going out, mostly for couples. because it was an aphrodisiac, and a strong one at that.
“you.. you take drugs?” you narrow your eyes, avoiding her gaze. you never pegged her as the type, but remembering she was a pitfighter, it wasn’t exactly frowned upon in that business.
“what?” vi’s eyes flicker. “no, fuck no, i don’t. i just drink.”
then, you think for a second. you gasp when you realize.
“you got laced.” you peer back up at her. “there’s a new drug— blossom. it’s an aphrodisiac, vi. but.. it’s not specific to make you want certain people, just.. sex. you didn’t have to come all the way here.”
“i don’t care for other people.” she huffs. “fuck, i— i just want you.”
you frown. “that’s just the drugs talking.”
“it’s not the drug.” you feel her nose press again your neck, her breath, her scent. and your mind is brought back to one week ago, when you had the night of your fucking life. you’ve never had better sex.
you suddenly remember her pretty little moans, her body, rough and scarred, but still so beautiful. you never expected for her to be submissive, but that night proved everything you thought to be wrong.
and it turned you on even more that you could have the best of both worlds with vi.
you could have a dominant, rough, teasing girl to give you pleasure. but, she could also submit to you on the snap of your finger, especially now.
all your needs are met with vi. so, why do you want to push her away so badly? fear? fear that this could just as easily turn into something more, and jeopardize your job?
fuck it. what’s one night?
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“wha— what is that?” vi says so sweetly, so innocently. you brought her back to your house, and now, she was under your will just as easily as you could get a glass of water.
you eyes scan over her body. bloody, bruised, scarred. her budding breasts, the trail of hair just above where you’ve been purposefully avoiding.
you hum as you run your fingers over the marks on her neck, her breasts. her hands have been glued to you all night, trying to pry every last bit of clothing on your body, to consume you whole, to have nothing but your skin against hers, like how it should be. how it should always be.
“what, you’ve never seen one before?” you glance toward her as you raise the silicone cock toward her.
“i— i’ve.. heard of them.” vi swallows as her eyes follow it.
“think you can handle it?” you jest, leaning back so you could loom over her. you hold the straps over you torso, tightening it around your hips.
her eyes are trained on the harness. it stirs a weird feeling inside of her— she’d never been attracted to men, nor wanted anything to do with their dumb cocks. yet, when she sees you, with that pink dildo that reminds her of her old hair, she wants nothing but for it to be inside of her, deflowering her, taking every last bit of dignity she thought she had.
with you, it all goes away. she didn’t care anymore. she just wanted you.
vi’s hands find your bare back, pulling you against her, lips only inches away from yours. her hands roam your soft skin, clutching onto your stomach, wanting to fuse her body with yours.
“i don’t care if i can handle it.” she muttered, pupils nearly taking over her whole eyes. “give it to me. give it all to me.”
you hum as you press your lips against the corner of her mouth. she gasps, before letting a loud whine from her throat.
“kiss me.” she grasps your face, “dammit, kiss me.”
“isn’t that too.. intimate?”
vi groans in annoyance as she tightens her grip on your face, lips crashing against yours in a fiery, passionate movement.
and you realize, vi didn’t want just regular old sex. she didn’t want to be treated like a whore, like a client. she wanted passion; she wanted you to make love to her.
and you shake the thoughts way with the thought— it’s just the aphrodisiac.
slowly, you let yourself melt against her, melt against her lips. her tongue grazes your lip, just barely, and you take that as permission to let your tongue slip against hers, dancing in a passionate movement for dominance. vi’s hands tighten on your body, grasp at the plush of your thighs, so soft, so delicate.
and she thinks, just maybe, she’s slowly starting to get a grasp on herself again. she remembered— she should be the one in control.
but, then.. the thoughts fade away as soon as they come.
she gasped as you take hold of the silicone dildo, moving to press it against her slick, coating the tip of it in the warmth.
you hum as her will instantly diminishes, vi’s chest heaving at the reminder that right now, she was under your will. under your control.
you pull away from her lips to mutter, “sure you can handle this?”
“i’m fucking sure.” vi grunts, hands gripping your cheeks harder, pulling your lips against hers again. and she thinks, your lips were so soft. scarily soft. dangerously soft in a way that she was scared she’d never be able to leave you— the feeling of your lips, your hands, ever again.
and when your hands press against her stomach, softly grazing against the bruise beneath her rib, she grimaces in pain. but.. she found it even more dangerous that she didn’t want to shy away from the pain, from your hands. instead, she relished in it, and it only aroused her more.
vi’s mind goes into an instant fog as you slowly press the silicone inside her, entering her with a soft pop!
and she cries out in both pain and immeasurable pleasure. her hands roam into your hair, tightening against it as she tries to alleviate the raw pain of the stretch.
you frown as you realize you probably should have chosen a smaller one, considering it was her first time.
but, you grin again as you see vi’s spine arching up, toward you, pushing the dildo in more.
and vi swore she saw white.
“shh, shh..” you whisper, breath trickling down her neck. “you can take it.”
“oh, fuck!” vi’s eyes close as her face tightens fully.
“relax.” you hum against the shell of her ear, hand grazing over her stomach, up, and up and up, rubbing against her breasts. “can’t do anything when you’re so damn tight, vi.” you giggle into her ear. “eyes on me. come on.”
you tap just underneath her eye, against the tattoo on her cheek you could now see without the face paint. it was of her name. a little egotistical, much?
she opens her eyes with a damn whimper, and you swore it was the most sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.
“that’s it.” you glance at her. the way you were looking at her, so primal, so full of lust, vi swore she could melt into a puddle in her spot. she was so far gone now, she knew that there was no going back.
her eyes train on you, not daring to look away. she finds herself lost in your eyes, and you in hers, so blue, so soft. she was submitting to you with her very own eyes, and you knew that, even without looking at her body yearning for you.
you take the chance at her body relaxing to push your hips forward, relaxing yourself into her until your hips touched hers, your bodies fusing together.
her mouth gapes, her eyes rolling back. oh, she was so far into this hole now.
your hands grab her calves, pressing her back, nearly pushing her down so far her knees could touch her ears with one movement.
and oh, the stretch, so painful, filling her, pressing so deep inside of her unlike anything she’s ever felt.
vi’s hands race to cover her face, a whine escaping her throat as she panted, feeling so, so full.
“what’s wrong, hm? feel too good?” you jest as you lean closer.
vi says nothing. you test the waters by using the new position to press deeper, angling your hips to hit the spot you knew always worked.
in both men and women, there’s always a soft spot that will make them bleed in submission, that will let you fully take control of their head. that’s what you did best.
vi cried out. she knew that damn spot, of course she did, but she never imagined it would be used against her, that someone would hit that spot, and hit it so fucking good.
“thi—! this position..” she mewled, “ts’ too embarrassing.”
and you fucking laugh. “you’ll learn soon that nothing is embarrassing when you’re with me.
“you’ll learn to forget yourself in these moments.” you tease your tongue against her jaw, hands moving to her thighs, pushing her down deeper. “embarrassment doesn’t exist with me. you’ll see.”
as if to solidify your words, you gently pull your hips back, till the dildo was about halfway out, then you slam your hips back against hers. vi cried out, voice cracking at the sudden movement.
“this okay?” you’d whisper against her skin.
vi’s heart nearly melts. even in this moment, so crude to put her in such a lude position, you’re still so damn sweet to her, just like last week.
but, vi can’t respond. she can’t form words. she didn’t remember how, or when she forgot how to speak until the words catch into her throat.
slowly, her eyes open and she nods her head. it was more then okay, it was the best damn thing she’d felt in her entire life.
“i need words, vi.”
“y.. ye—s! it’s okay.” vi sputters, face rushing full of blood, blushing so cutely. you chuckle.
“good.” you smile against her pulse, pressing a soft kiss there. then, you rock your hips back, just barely, before thrusting your hips back in.
you continue at the slow, teasing, torturing and mean pace. you feel vi’s legs shiver against you, her head pushing back into the pillow.
you feel a sound in her throat, against your lips, and she pushes her body closer to yours.
her entire body shakes with each thrust, each push back inside of her, so deep, pressing just barely over that spot each time.
and she realized, she wanted you to be rougher. she wanted you to act like how she treats other girls she sleeps with, how she treated you that one night. maybe that was all she wanted all along— projecting the way she treated the girls because she wanted someone to do that to her.
she didn’t know that until you, you, you, came into her life.
every thought was you. every, single, thought. mind a total haze, she forgets herself. she doesn’t care to be quiet anymore, she doesn’t care to try and stay reserved. she wanted you to do whatever you wanted to her.
and she’d probably let you.. if you weren’t treating her like a damned delicate doll.
“g..” she starts, a wonton moan escaping her lips. “faster.”
“oh?” you grin. “you ready now, huh? all stretched out?”
“ye— ugh! yes, i’m—‘i’m ready.” she grasps onto the sheet beneath her.
“hm, you sure?”
“yes, i’m fucking sure!”
“you’d better watch your mouth, vi. or this is just gonna go slower.” you move to meet her gaze, nose pressing against hers. “got that?”
vi looks like a puppy who’s being teased a treat, being made to do tricks. soft little gasps, soft sounds leave her as she clutched the sheet harder. she swallows, before slowly nodding.
“good.” you say as you nip at her nose, before adjusting your hold on her thighs, propping yourself up.
you tilt back to spit on her already sopping folds, and she bites her lip at the lude gesture.
you slowly, oh so slowly, pull your hips back till just the tip is left inside of her.
then, you ram your hips back against her, so roughly it makes the bed shake.
a loud noise leaves vi. she grips so hard on the sheets she pulled the fitted sheet off the bed, but not paying it no mind. all she cared about right now was getting more of this feeling, more of you.
“fuck!” vi cried out.
you chuckle. then, you begin at a steady, harder, faster pace. your hand lets go of her thigh, letting it drop down on the side of the bed, hand moving to graze over her face.
your hands push her hair back out of her face, clutching it so tightly. vi heaved at the feeling, mouth agape as you press your hips faster, harder, so harsh against that spot she felt like she was going insane.
then, you let go of her hair. and you brush your fingers over her lips, prying them open, pressing your fingers against her tongue.
“wouldn’t want the neighbours to hear, would you?” you had no neighbours. but, vi didn’t know that. “wouldn’t want them to know i’m fucking you so good like this, hm?”
vi doesn’t respond. her eyes are fully gone, concentrated on you, and you feel a soft gag against your finger.
she doesn’t think as she lets her teeth clamp against your fingers, biting so hard because she can’t handle the pleasure, so hard it drew blood.
and the taste of your blood enough was to send her over the edge.
you feel the vibration of her voice against your fingers, her entire body erupting into a shaking mess.
“oh!” your eyes gleam as you glance down, slowing your thrusts, relishing in the glance of the pink dildo slowly staining white.
and your heart leaps as you see her hips pulling away. oh, how hilarious.
“you had me in the same position before.” you husk, “and you didn’t give me mercy. so greedy, aren’t you, vi?”
you let your fingers slip out of her mouth so she can speak.
“god, oh my god!” she gasped, entire body collapsing against your bed. “i-i fuck, god..” her hips drag away from you, stomach jolting from your touch against her stomach.
“so.. wouldn’t it only be fair to give you the same treatment? punish you?”
vi shakes her head violently.
“no, no!”
you still as you see the tear on her cheek.
“no more. no more.” she pants, eyes slowly opening to glance up to you.
you let your eyes close with a sigh.
“oh well. another night.” you snort as you slowly pull the dildo out of her, letting it hang, and resting it on her thigh. “let me clean you up. that sound good, hm?”
vi stares at the ceiling with no response. you snort, before pulling yourself away, hucking the strap off to some random place. vi suddenly looks to you, before roughly grabbing your wrist.
“don’t go. please.” she whispers.
you stiffen at her words. slowly, you relax. and you obey her wishes.
“alright. i won’t.”
vi’s hands travel down your body, hooking around your waist and pulling you against her chest.
even after what you thought was probably the orgasm of vi’s life, she was still a fighter after all, and she was strong.
you let yourself melt against her. her hands graze over your back, body still shaking as she reminisced in the feeling of her high.
“that.. that was a one time thing.” vi suddenly says. she swallowed. “it was just an aphrodisiac. i am not a bottom.”
you pick your head up off her chest, narrowing your eyes at her. she quickly adverts her gaze, biting her tongue, a harsh blushing finding her cheeks. you snort.
“keep telling yourself that, vi. that’s what every stubborn top says after they’ve seen me.”
she makes a tch sound. “whatever. bunch of wimps.”
you giggle.
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it was probably around two hours later, and you hadn’t moved from where you two both were. your hands played with her hair.
and you realize, this was the first time you ever stayed with a client after their appointment. and it continued to dawn on you that this probably wasn’t what a client and a businesswoman’s relationship should be like.
“hey, y/n?” vi rasps, her voice laced with tiredness and sleep. “i.. i have to talk to you about something.”
you still. was she.. going to say something bad? good? proclaim love? you’d been in that rodeo before— let’s say, it was the main reason you had left your old brothel in piltover.
you glance toward her.
“yeah?”
“i won’t be coming back.” she stares at the wall as she says this.
you snort. “that’s what they all say—“
“no, i mean.. i mean, there’s someone.” she sighs. you still your hands.
she props herself up. you pull away from her chest to sit up straight.
“someone as in.. someone you love?”
vi glances toward you.
“no. i.. i don’t know.” she shakes her head, avoiding her gaze. “not exactly.”
you say nothing.
“do you want to know the reason i got into pit fighting?” vi stares down at her hands, “well.. a lot of shit has happened in my life. it feels like.. like i’ve never got a chance to take a breath of air before another thing was thrown at me.”
she inhaled. “i.. i was in stillwater prison for four years. got thrown in when i was probably.. sixteen?” she shakes her head.
“so.. you escaped? or something?”
“no. no, uh..” she grimaces, like it pains her to talk about it. “the girl. the.. someone, i guess. she got me released to help her with this stupid investigation. an enforcer.” she chuckled. “stupid girl.”
“we.. she was my first kiss. my first, i guess.. crush, if that isn’t too kiddish. i thought everything would go great after that. then.. shit happened. and, she left.”
your brows furrow. she left? just like that, and she deserves to hold vi’s heart?
“but.. i guess i came to the realization that i couldn’t stay away from her.”
vi’s face tightened as she thought. caitlyn should have been the one she was thinking of while under the effects of that blossom drug. but, she wasn’t. it was you. and that weirded her out. confused her.
“can’t just let all that go to waste, you know?” vi ignored her thoughts. “so, i’m gonna find her. even if.. even if she’s gotten over me. there’s always friends, right?”
you purse your lips. then, you stand. you grab a robe from a hanger and tie it around your body.
“you shouldn’t let your first love plague yourself forever, vi.” you say tightly. “you may never be able to let it go. trying to fix something that’s already broken won’t go as you expect.”
vi says nothing.
“take it from me. i thought i’d loved someone before. but.. it was bad for me. it tried to salvage any relationship i got into because i didn’t want to accept change, that people i thought i’d loved wouldn’t change, would remain in the same spot forever. but, that’s life. people change, for the worst, for the better.. it’s human nature.”
then, i chuckle. “i’m not about to give you a lecture. i’m not your mother. but, just.. think about that before you drop everything for a girl who may have already moved on from you.”
“don’t revolve your life depending on other people’s love. especially if they abandoned you after taking your first kiss.”
“no, caitlyn, she’s.. she’s different. she was grieving. it was my fault—“
“no need to start placing blame on yourself. you can’t control a feeling like love.”
you step toward her.
“cherish that. cherish the way you love. i may not know you, but.. i can tell you have a good heart. if this caitlyn girl is truly who you love, then let it happen.”
“your mind is still young. emotions is all you have.”
you tap her forehead.
“so go.”
vi’s forehead creases as she thinks.
“but.. vi?” you slant your head. you lean back toward her, pressing yourself closer so your noses touched. you brush a hand over her face.
“i know you won’t be able to resist me for long. you’ll be back.”
vi’s eyes are trained on you. her breath picks up, before she suddenly stands, scrambling away from you.
“uh! i, um, i have to go now.” vi swallows, rapidly picking up her clothes and putting them on.
you giggle as you let yourself fall into your pillows.
“see you, then, violet. i hope our time was good for you.”
she spares you one last look, and you swore you’d never forget the gleam in her eyes, the red on her neck and on her cheeks. so adorable.
she stalks toward the door, moving for the handle. then, she stills. she takes a deep breath.
“y/n?” she says softly. “if i.. if i ever do come back. just know, it’s my turn to use that thing on you.”
you feel your breath catch in your throat at that damn smirk.
without another word, she opens the door and slams it closed behind her.
you blink.
“damn, that girl gives me whiplash.”
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a/n. said i wasn’t going to continue it, but here we are. um, expect a part three. probably. maybe. 🤗 idk still deciding
for @nobodyknowsimalesbian777 , hope my sub version of vi was to ur liking 😭 sorry it went a little off track of the request i got lost in it
find more about my taglist here.
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norrisainz33 · 2 days ago
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announcement || mv33
☆ summary: max and his private wife have been keeping a big secret
☆ pairing: max verstappen x private!nonfamous!wife!reader
☆ fc & warnings: amata alp & mentions of pregnancy
☆ requested: yes! thank you for your patience 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynverstappen has posted to their story 🔒
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maxverstappen1: glad you’re with y/bff tho i do wish you were here my love
ynverstappen: i wish i was there too. i hate having to miss your races
maxverstappen1: i know you do sweetheart but you’ve got big things to worry about right now 🤍
ynverstappen: i know i just wish you were here to worry about them with me!
ynverstappen: ugh i’m sorry i know you have no choice in the matter
maxverstappen1: don’t apologize liefje. i know this is not like the easiest time for me to be away! i will be home so soon so i can help take care of you
carmenmundt: y/n where have you beeeeeeen it’s been so long!!
ynverstappen: been very busy with work and with holding down the fort here in monaco!! i hope to be back at some races soon 🤍
alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous girl i miss you
ynverstappen: i miss you too babes
yourbff: my baby
ynverstappen: my girl
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liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 11,849 others
f1gossip: during todays redline stream the chat was flooded with questions about the whereabouts of y/n verstappen who has been absent from the paddock for the past couple of months. while y/n is relatively private and we don’t usually get many social media updates from her outside of her interior design firm’s posting, she almost never misses the opportunity to support max on a race weekend let alone several in a row. max assured the chat that y/n was ok and that she was just taking some time to herself and that she’d be back in the paddock soon enough. what do you all make of this?
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user1: i’m so glad y/nmax are fine
user2: you could even hear her in the background at one point asking max what he wanted for dinner!! glad we are getting some crumbs
user4: omg ok good!! i thought that was her but couldn’t tell
user3: i was about to email her interior design firm to ask if she was ok thank god max updated us
user4: walk with me here guys…. what if we haven’t seen her bc she’s…… pregnant???
user6: oh my god you might be on to something!! they have been married for almost 2 years now
user7: no this is so believable!!! they’d make the best parents
user5: y/n’s ability to stay under the radar and unbothered is incredible
user8: y/n is the coolest wag i wish she was chronically online like so many of the others
user7: ugh fr!! i wish we could follow her on literally anything 💔
ynverstappen has posted to their story 🔒
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francisca.cgomes: are you redoing part of your house? is this why you’ve been so busy and i haven’t seen my best friend for WEEKS
ynverstappen: partially yes!! we are redoing the spare room. BUT you’ll see me this weekend for my party kiks
francisca.cgomes: and my god i can’t wait!! i miss you
ynvertsappen: i miss you too
landonorris: plans for what?
ynverstappen: idk 🤷🏻‍♀️
landonorris: liar!
maxverstappen1: they’re going to have the sweetest room 🤍
ynverstappen: yes they are 🤍 i’m so proud of how it’s turning out
georgerussell63: the 🤭 makes this feel like i’m on the outside of an inside joke
ynverstappen: you just might be georgie!!
georgerussell63: well what does that even mean
yourbff: i am brimming with excitement i can’t wait for you to tell everyone this weekend
ynverstappen: me too!! keeping this secret has been so tough but ultimately it’s been really nice to have something that’s just for me and max even if just for a short while
yourbff: no i totally get that y/n/n!! max has to share his life with the whole world so im sure it’s nice to have those private moments
yoursibling: i need you to facetime me when you tell carmen and kika bc they’re going to lose their minds
ynverstappen: oh i absolutely will
ynverstappen has made a post 🔒
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ynverstappen: i’m so glad all my favorite people could come celebrate the news 🩷 baby verstappen due in january 🤍 mommy and daddy love you endlessly already 💙
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carmenmundt: i can’t wait to be an aunty!!! best news ever 🤍
ynverstappen: and i can’t wait for you to be an aunty!! baby v is going to be so loved
carmenmundt: they already are!!
francisca.cgomes: can’t believe my favorite person in the world is going to be a mom 🥹
ynverstappen: love you kika 🥹
maxverstappen1: 💙🩷
ynverstappen: 😘😘
iamrebeccad: you’re going to make the perfect mom
ynverstappen: i really hope so 🤍
georgerussell63: blimey! i can’t wait to meet the little one!!
ynverstappen: only 3 more months!!
landonorris: uncle lando is reporting for duty
ynverstappen: baby v is going to love their uncle lan!!
maxverstappen1: baby v is already lucky to have you mate
alexandrasaintmleux: the most beautiful maman 🤍
ynverstappen: don’t make me cry again 😭
maxverstappen1 has made a post
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liked by ynverstappen, redbullracing, charesleclerc, alex_albon, landonorris, and 765,248 others
maxverstappen1: grateful for moments like these away from the track. next week is race week again in vegas but for now, enjoy some family photos 🤍
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user1: my favorite couple maybe ever
user3: y/n sign of life!!
user4: sticking to my delulu and thinking he said family bc she’s having a baby
landonorris: see you all soon🤍
ynverstappen: see you soon lannyyyyyy
user4: he’s feeding into my delusions here…. bc why did he say you all instead of you both
user6: omg does this mean y/n will be in vegas????
ynverstappen: i love our little family 🫶🏻
maxverstappen1: me too gorgeous
user2: not me crying over this post?? the heart shaped pizzas sent me over the edge
redbullracing: looking forward to seeing you back on track!
ynverstappen has added to their story 🔒
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maxverstappen1: i have a tracker on your flight. i think the anxiety of you and the little one being on a plane without me is going to eat me alive
ynverstappen: we will be ok maxie i promise!! im on air max, it’s safe here
maxverstappen1: it is but also i’m not there so it’s not as safe as it could be
ynverstappen: my sweet boy, take a deep breath. you have quali soon
maxverstappen1: yes yes yes i’m breathing deeply
francisca.cgomes: well thank GOD i need you in the paddock
ynverstappen: pls come stay in rb hospitality w me
francisca.cgomes: for you i will just don’t tell pierre
charlesleclerc: on a scale of 1-10 how stressed is max
ynverstappen: 16
redbullracing: we can’t wait to see you!!
iamrebeccad: yayayayayayya!!!!!!!
ynverstappen: 😘😘😘😘😘😘
maxverstappen1 has made a post
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liked by landonorris, ynverstappen, redbullracing, carmenmundt, charlesleclerc, and 754,984 others
maxverstappen1: for all of you wondering where y/n has been…. needless to say we’ve both been a little busy getting ready to welcome baby verstappen. only a few more months till the little one makes us a family of 3 🤍
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user1: best news ever!!!!
user4: i knew it!!! omg 🥹
charlesleclerc: congratulations mate! i am so excited for you both
maxverstappen1: thank you charles 💙 baby v is so lucky to have an uncle like you
user16: im violently sobbing over this interaction you don’t understand
redbullracing: having a mini rb20 made for baby v as we speak
ynverstappen: oh gosh admin no
maxverstappen1: admin yes!!
redbullracing: uh oh awkward
landonorris: yayyyyyy!!!!!!!! i can’t wait to babysit!!
ynverstappen: you’re going to be the best babysitter ever
user7: she is glowing
user9: max and y/n are going to make the most beautiful parents
f1gossip has made a post
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f1gossip: here to share a recap of max’s first interview since announcing y/n’s pregnancy mere minutes after qualifying. he said he wanted to announce it before sunday because y/n was absolutely adamant about being in the paddock for vegas and there was no hiding her baby bump at 6 months. max said “i can’t wait to be a dad! it’s honestly something i’ve been dreaming of for years and i’m so grateful to my beautiful wife for giving me the greatest gift.”
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user2: this is by far the happiest i’ve ever seen max and i am crying
user4: i love max and y/n so much i cant
user15: the way he talked about their baby ??? he already loves that little one so much
user18: i think having a baby is healing his inner child
user3: i love love love love love these 2
user19: crying screaming throwing up
user20: project verstappen!! lfg!!! next wdc champion incoming
user5: her refusing to miss another race is so real of her
user8: thank god she’s gonna be back in the paddock max needs her luck
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs always appreciated 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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mohammedalanqar · 3 days ago
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At the Crossroads of Humanity: A Fa***y That Needs Your Voice, Hand, and Heart
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In this world, where wars burn at its edges like an unquenchable fire, and where souls fade away amidst storms of pain, I write to you today not as a writer, but as a human being. A human being who has only words to awaken the shared conscience within us, the hope that we can still be better.
There is a family, just like any other, that once lived in peace. A modest home filled with children’s laughter and big dreams of parents striving for a brighter future. Mohamed, an engineer driven by resilience, and Enas, an English teacher who inspires hope in her children and students alike. They have four children: Layan (11 years old) with her keen intelligence, Sarah (9 years old) with a smile that melts hearts, Adam (4 years old) with his boundless energy, and Amir, a 6-month-old infant who knows nothing but his mother’s embrace. These children carry dreams in their eyes that have yet to be touched by war.
But war does not choose its victims. Today, this family has lost everything. Their home reduced to ashes, their security vanished, and their youngest sleeps cradled by fear.
We now stand at a crossroads. Can we look into the eyes of this family, and into the eyes of our own children one day, and say: “We tried”? Or will we choose silence and let humanity’s flame flicker out in this darkened world?
I know that among us here on this platform, Tumblr, there are writers, artists, creators, leaders, and hearts full of compassion. Imagine if each of us, with our pens, our voices, and our keyboards, chose to make a difference. Imagine if we shared this story, making it the talk of Tumblr and every corner of the internet.
Let’s think of this post as a beehive. Each of us is a bee carrying a drop of honey, a drop of hope, to create something bigger. Every share, every repost, every contribution is a step towards bringing this family to safety.
Let’s create a miracle.
Not because we need to prove something, but because this is the true face of humanity. Because we are stronger together. Because love and generosity are the most profound gifts we can offer, especially when the world needs them most.
If not today, then when? If not for them, then for whom?
We have an opportunity to show the world that the internet is not just a place for fleeting pictures and laughter but a force capable of changing lives. Let us show everyone that the Tumblr community can be a refuge for those who have none.
You, each of you reading these words now, are the true heroes of this story. Don’t let this post end here. Carry it on your wings, spread it as light that reaches every dark corner. Share it on Tumblr, weave it into stories on Instagram, tweet about it on Twitter, and make it a voice that cannot be silenced.
Let’s unite as one.
Let’s build a bridge for this family and create an unbreakable wave of hope.
> “In the end, none of us will be asked how many books we’ve read or songs we’ve written, but how many lives we’ve helped.”
“We may not change the entire world, but we can change the world for this family.”
Be the light that brightens their path. Share, create, and spread hope wherever you can.
you can support them through their campaign here:
Click here to support the campaign.
They are vetted here on nabulsi and el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet here (174)!
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Let’s unite and make a real difference.
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subjectsix · 2 days ago
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Very genuinely I appreciate all the people offering fixes (I really mean this, I hope it helps people finding this post and its showed me a few more Windows debloat options).
At the same time, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m sick of workarounds for something that never needed workarounds. Things that should be basic features on hardware you own. I even have a Linux machine with a Mint distro on it and have been messing around with it, but switching to Linux shouldn’t have to be the answer.
So many people are pointing out that they have to use a personal smartphone for work or for banking. I needed one to get the app to buzz in my office building’s locked door.
Things that should be tools (AI, photo editors, software on computers) have been weaponized against users. Social media is homogenized and difficult to truly personalize or control. Everything wants your phone number. Google asked me to add my home address to my email. Cars don’t come with knobs, but touch screens. It’s harder and harder to buy appliances that aren’t connected to wifi.
I am unbelievably grateful for those that have workarounds— who make programmers to strip bloatware, reprogram OSes for things like iPods and the Car Thing, who program raspberry pis to block ads, make forums and browser games and communities online as alternatives. We have gotta keep doing it. It can’t be about quick fixes and begrudging compromises anymore. Not everyone can ditch their smartphone or use Linux. But we can not shut up about stupid crap and make changes ourselves.
I don’t mean that to sound like a wearying call to action demanding you stop talking to that friend you only have contact with on Facebook, etc. But I do think it’s good to evaluate what you’re willing to put up with on your computer and what you can change for your own personal benefit, just like you should be able to do in the first place. And to not shut up and make your distaste for crap features known.
In the wise words of the angry guy in the Windows support forum:
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I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.
I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.
Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.
I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.
I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.
Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.
I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.
My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.
I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?
No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!
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barcaatthemoon · 1 day ago
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your best girl || alexia putellas x reader ||
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You comfort Alexia when she returns after the Olympics.
18+
Everybody had a job. You had nearly forgotten that with the craziness of the Olympics. Alexia worked hard to be the best captain for her country that she could. There was only so much that her on-pitch presence could do. Their issue was at the coach's level, and the team suffered because of that. Alexia had only come back to you a couple days early after being knocked away from the medals, and that was where your job started.
It was always difficult gauging the amount of space to give Alexia. You understood how devastating a blow it was, having lost the chance for a medal at your first Olympics. Back then, you had wished that someone would have helped you pick up the pieces of yourself, but instead, you tried to brave it all on your own. Alexia wasn't like you, and that was where you apprehension about talking to her came in.
The thought of smothering Alexia and pushing her away haunted you constantly. You needed to do something to show her that you were there for her that wasn't over the top of dramatic. And so, you dropped as many little hints that you were just waiting for her to come to you. You thought for a moment that you'd end up driving yourself mad waiting for Alexia, but the silence and tension in the apartment only lasted for a few days at most.
"What is all of this?" Alexia asked as she stood behind your desk chair. You tried to turn, but Alexia was holding you forward. You could feel her lean down a bit, reading over your analysis of the games for work. "You've been busy."
"Never too busy for you though," you told her. Alexia dropped her hands from your chair, finally allowing for you to turn and face her. "I'm glad to see you up and around a bit."
"The bed felt a little cold, and I know that it's not really a big thing, but I was hoping that you had some time to join me," Alexia said. You nodded, quickly saving the small additions you had made to your analysis paper before shutting your computer down and following Alexia into the bedroom.
It looked like she had been cleaning a bit before she came to get you. The nest of blankets that Alexia had created to curl up and wallow in was now dismantled. She had tidied up her laundry from the floor and made the bed, which you knew were big steps. Aside from that, you didn't let the candles on the bedside table or the songs from your R&B sex playlist playing.
"How exactly am I helping you warm up the bed?" you asked teasingly. Alexia played it innocent as she sat back on the bed. She patted the spot next to you, and you all but rushed over to join her. Sex hadn't been on the table for you mentally when Alexia got home, but you were a bit relieved to not be waiting weeks like the last big loss Alexia had faced.
You didn't understand how someone so amazing could get down on themselves so easily. Alexia was under immense pressure from fans, but it was nothing compared to what she put herself through. You felt guilty learning from those around Alexia that it only got worse when you came in the picture. In your eyes, you were washed up and spat out by the game, but Alexia held you in the regard that some had during your prime.
"I did have a couple of things in mind. I think that I need a little reminder of who I am." Alexia ducked her head down until her face was tucked into the crook of your neck. She was being shy, like she was ashamed of really asking for what you wanted. Still, you completely understood wht she needed. It wasn't exactly what had become your normal, but you were still definitely up to reminding Alexia that she didn't have to win everything in order for you to love and cherish her.
"I get that you need this for what happened in Paris, but forget about football and the Olympics completely. Right now it's just the two of us. I am just me, and you are just you." Alexia struggled to take your words to heart at first, but that was expected. You were used to this little speedbump, but it was the most important part of everything in your eyes. "You love me despite the fact that I haven't worn a jersey of my own in three years. I'll love you even if you never put another Spain or Barcelona jersey on again. I'll love you when the day comes that your body can't handle the game anymore, and I will take care of you when you inevitably push yourself too far again. Do you know why?"
"No," Alexia answered. You turned her face so that she was looking at you and you only.
"Because I did not fall in love with Alexia Putellas, the footballer. I fell in love with the woman who doesn't know how to tread lightly, so she wakes me up at odd hours every single time that she gets out of bed. I fell in love with the woman who goes out of her way to take care of her community and everybody that she cares about. I fell in love with the woman who runs into the arm of the couch every single morning because she's too busy watching me walking into the kitchen. I fell in love with you because of what I saw off of the pitch," you told her. Alexia was blushing deeply, unsure of what to do with praise in that sense.
"I just wanted to win and make you proud. You got this new job after working so hard these past couple of years to learn Spanish. You're doing so much, and what have I done to compare?" Alexia confessed. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Alexia was constantly doing things that often made you feel a bit inferior, so it blew your mind a little to hear that Alexia had been feeling this way too.
"Ale, you are the best soccer player in the world. I'm only here because I gave up and called it quits. You're doing amazing things all of the time. You're the best in the world, and let's face it, I wouldn't have gotten my foot in the door if I wasn't your girlfriend. I could have worked and worked and worked forever, but they wouldn't have cared." Alexia's face changed from its formerly soft expression to a hardened one. "I'm not here to argue about my achievements with you, I'm here to remind you that this one setback won't define your worth."
"Just you wait, they'll be referring to me as (Y/n) (Y/l/n)'s girlfriend. Hopefully one of the better ones," Alexia said. She sounded so confident and sure of herself that you had to believe her.
"You'll always be the best one. Hopefully you'll also be my last one," you told her. Alexia leaned in and kissed you, slowly pulling you on top of her. You let the kiss progress naturally, neither of you pushing things too far without the other pressing equally as much.
"Take this off," Alexia requested as she started tugging at the hem of your shirt. You sat back and started removing the pieces of your clothes that Alexia asked you to. In turn, she briefly moved you off of her lap to completely undress herself. The tension in the room thickened a bit as she laid down again, legs spread as you stood at the end of the bed.
"You look unreal," you muttered as you moved onto the bed. You didn't want to leave Alexia waiting. Alexia didn't want to wait either, guiding your head between her legs without any ounce of hesitation. You could see that Alexia was already wet. She wasn't soaked but still undeniably wet.
You didn't have a chance to tease Alexia. She guided your face to her cunt, movements on the cusp of being pushy. Alexia was almost always in control, and she doubled down whenever you were topping. She didn't want to wait around or be teased, Alexia wanted to cum. You still had your chance to revel in the taste of her, even if it wasn't in the same way that she got to with you.
It didn't come as a surprise to you to have Alexia grinding her hips to move against your tongue. She didn't seem to want your fingers at all, working herself up on just your mouth. You loved it, loved knowing that you could make Alexia feel so good with just a few simple movements. Topping Alexia gave you a rush that you'd be riding for the next couple of days, until Alexia felt up to the task of "putting you back in your place."
"I'm so fucking close. Don't stop, please don't stop," Alexia swore. She wasn't usually one for pleading, but you'd take it. Her hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you savored every drop of her that you could. Alexia let you continue with the strokes of your tongue past her first orgasm, only pushing you away after the second. She rode one high into the next before her brain and body seemed to catch up to each other.
She was sensitive, and her legs jerked shut, nearly hitting you in the process. You didn't sit back and stare, instead going straight into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. Alexia let you clean her up, not saying anything to you until after she had grabbed new clothes to wear for the night. You stripped the bed and put everything in the washer, slightly surprised to find Alexia waiting for you in the kitchen when you were done.
"I don't think I let you know how important you are to me. I don't know how badly I would have spiraled without you here," Alexia told you. You blushed as she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you from behind. "Tomorrow, I start training again. I've only got a few years until the next World Cup and Olympics."
"I mean, I guess," you sighed. Alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek before she grabbed a snack to take into the living room. You went decided to go to bed, already well aware that Alexia wouldn't get to bed for another hour or so at least. You set an alarm for 1, deciding that if she wasn't in bed by then, you were going out to the living room to collect her yourself.
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jambalaya-enthusiast · 15 hours ago
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hiii!! may i request for headcanons/ an imagine about the crew with a bubbly and cute crew member who playfully; innocently flirts with them? (preferably someone younger than the crew as well, but not minor 😀. say early 20s?) the crew member really is a solid team player and person, but they also just wanna see if they could get the other crew members flustered (and see if they have a chance with them 👀). hope this makes sense! thank you so much! ^^
Flustered;
Crew Members x A young! And incredibly flirty! Reader. [ Reader is not a minor just younger than the crew members]
warnings: slightly suggestive.
Captain Curly
God help this man. He is just trying to keep everyone on the ship happy and secure and was definitely not up for the challenge he was now facing.
A young intern probably like half his age is constantly on the prowl to catch this guy off guard.
He liked you very much already,due to how much of a breath of fresh air you were on that ship,always taking care of stuff. But this? Oh boy.
He's had a fair share of people try and flirt with him,to try and get into his pants,but with you? It's different,very different.
He just couldn't pin point as to what it was about you,the way your words would roll off your tongue like butter.
The way your voice was so sultry and raspy...or was it the way you looked at him that would make his blood run hot.
He was trying, trying so hard to control himself, he's the captain after all.
But lord knows,a man can only control his nerves so much.
Co-Pilot Jimmy
what. the. fuck. ?
no seriously,what the actual fuck? he had no clue in the fucking world as to why someone as fucking drop-dead gorgeous as you was hitting on HIM of all people?
It didn't help how you were like SO YOUNG compared to him.
He thought you were probably joking around,teasing him. To make him feel like shit. And he started to almost resent you for it.
But by god- can someone seriously be THIS PERSISTENT with a joke???
He was on fucking edge all the time,because he simply, couldn't think straight whenever you would hit on him.
A part of him just wanted to snap and makeout with you in an instant,but he was just holding it together,for the sake of who knows what.
But patience always runs out, doesn't it?
Nurse, Anya
This poor,poor girl.
She already was stressed due to how things were going on.
she couldn't handle a young intern, who also happened to be a bit too, attractive was hitting on her.
she got so flustered that you had to apologise on several occasions.
She admired how you were so efficient at your job,always making sure to get things done.
But she always stuttered whenever you would pull those one liners on her.
The nurse was falling,and she was falling hard.
Mechanic, Swansea
he isn't paid enough to deal with this shit.
sure,he appreciated how useful and competent you were compared to his other intern.
But was the price of your competency...uhh this?
Flirting with a guy who's old enough to be your dad?
He would just shrug all of your advances off,just shooing you away whenever you tried to pull any crap.
but he's also..just a guy,lord help him wanting to indulge in some good ol' flirting.
The old man is trying his best,he is.
Mechanic Intern, Daisuke
Is this his lucky day? Another intern,just a little younger than him,was hitting on him?
HE WAS ON ANOTHER PLANET. ( No pun intended )
He would get incredibly shy and flustered tho, he's not used to this.
It doesn't help just how pretty you are. He's not even used to talking to pretty people.
He was just trying to pull his big boy pants up and face you like a true man.
But he would always just melt away at your words.
He wants to ask you out so badddd but he's scared that you're just casually flirting with him.
Seems like you're gonna have to make the first move.
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p0orbaby · 2 days ago
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can u do r and lessi being in the gym together and less won’t stop teasing and annoying reader
i switched this around because it fit what i was going for better. hope you don’t mind !
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The gym is air-conditioned within an inch of its life, but Alessia is still sweating. Proper athlete sweating, the kind where her cheeks are flushed and her hair’s falling out of its ponytail in damp little wisps. She’s in a matching navy-blue set that makes her look like she’s about to film an Adidas advert, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to help.
You’re sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat in the corner, sipping from a water bottle you don’t need because you’re not the one working out. You’re on holiday, after all. Alessia’s the lunatic who insisted she needed “just an hour” in the gym, despite the private beach literally shimmering outside.
“What exactly are you training for?” you ask, watching as she bends forward into some sort of stretch that’s objectively impressive but mostly just funny.
“Pre-season,” she says through gritted teeth, reaching for her toes. “Fitness doesn’t take a holiday”
“Oh, that’s inspiring.” You take another sip of water, just to make a point. “Maybe Adidas should use that. Fitness doesn’t take a holiday, but your girlfriend will”
“Don’t you have something better to do?” she asks, glaring at you from under her sweaty fringe.
“Not really. This is pretty entertaining”
She ignores you and moves to the weights section, picking up two dumbbells that look unnecessarily heavy. You watch as she starts a set of bicep curls, her form perfect, of course, because she’s Alessia Russo and nothing she does is ever less than perfect.
“Nice guns,” you say, resting your chin in your hand. “Bet you could carry all the shopping in one trip”
“Do you want me to throw this at you?” she asks, but there’s a flicker of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
“You wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much when I’m unconscious”
She rolls her eyes and moves to the resistance bands. She hooks one around her foot, stretches it, and starts some sort of kickback movement that you can’t take seriously because it looks absurd.
“Are you trying to win a world title or auditioning for the Rockettes?”
That one gets a laugh, though she tries to cover it with a cough.
“Seriously, Less, you’re on holiday,” you continue, leaning back on your hands. “Why are you torturing yourself in here when we could be doing literally anything else?”
“Because I don’t want to lose momentum,” she says, switching legs.
You tilt your head. “Is that what you call it? I call it masochism”
“Shut up”
“You know, I’m proud of you, babe. Really. But if you fall over in those squats, I’m recording it��
She pauses mid-rep to glare at you, and you grin innocently.
When she finally finishes her workout, she’s glistening like a Greek statue come to life. She tosses the resistance band onto a bench and strides over to you, towering above where you’re still sitting like a particularly lazy house cat.
“You done?” you ask sweetly, looking up at her.
“Yep,” she says, and without warning, she reaches down, grabs your hands, and hauls you to your feet in one swift motion.
“Alessia!” you yelp, stumbling into her chest.
She smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Thought you could use a break , seeing as you’ve been sitting there running your mouth for the last hour.”
“I am pretty tired,” you quip, though your heart is pounding slightly from the sudden closeness. “Do you know how much effort it takes to keep up with you?”
She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Come on, lazy. Let’s hit the beach”
“Finally,” you say, though you secretly think she looks ridiculously good in that gym kit and you might not mind her dragging you back here tomorrow.
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7s3ven · 19 hours ago
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SINGLE DAD! X BABYSITTER! READER HAS ME FROTHING OMGG. Even better when the rest of TF 141 is involved
part 1 | part 2 (coming soon - rest of tf 141 introduced)
master list
MDNI 18+
Warnings: big age gap, babysitter! reader, reader is in medical school (but still legal guys)
You told yourself it was just a temporary summer job, something to fill your pockets over the Summer break as you moved into another year of university. Medical bills were not easy to pay off and your old job that paid the bare minimum did not help you in the least. All it taught you was that you had a nasty uppercut (from the time you actually hit someone and got fired).
So, you found yourself standing in front of John Price’s house. You stared up at the tall building, brows raised in surprise. He had understated how big his house was… it even had a garden and a pool. You may as well consider it a mansion.
You quickly rang the doorbell, smoothening out your tight blouse. Your much more appropriate one was in the wash so you prayed whoever answered the door did not notice.
It was a tall middle-aged who greeted you, beard cleanly trimmed and… a hat on his head. “Y/N L/N?” He asked you. You swiftly nodded, softly smiling when he stepped aside.
“So, medical school, huh? Training to become a doctor?” He asks as he brews you a cup of tea while you read over his terms and conditions.
“A surgeon, sir. Not much better, though.” You offer him another smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension.
“Right. Next time I need surgery, I’ll call you up.” He takes a sip from your tea, which you notice but you say nothing. “Just checkin’ the temperature. Wouldn’t want ya to burn yourself.” He hands you the mug, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment too long.
“I assume this is only a quick job for you? Just away to gain a bit of money to pay those student fees off?”
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you nod. “Yes, sir. I know I should have clarified it but I’m a little desperate at this point. Besides, no retail places want to hire me… after I hit someone.”
Your words intrigued him. He let out a low chuckle as he sat across from you. “Now I’m interested.”
“Well… there’s not much to it… a guy kept staring at my chest. He said some vulgar stuff and next thing I knew, I was punching him.”
Price shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “The lad was askin’ for it. So, what do you think about the job? You’ll honestly be a glorified babysitter. Just do some cleaning and cookin’ here and there and make my baby happy and you’ll get a nice pay check every week.”
It all happened in a blur. You agreed to the job and weeks later, you found yourself at Price’s house more than your apartment. You hadn’t stepped foot into your apartment since two days ago, Price generously allowing you to use one of the guest rooms.
“Lila has a sleepover tomorrow.” Price mentions as you’re reading the instructions on how to make cookies for Lila’s bake sale.
Based on the cooking skills you had seen from Price, you doubted he could bake very well. In fact, all he could cook was steak, which was general knowledge for dads.
“I can drop her off if needed.” You offer while opening the packet of flour only for it to explode in your face. You smacked your lips together, grimacing. “Not a word.” You mutter to Price who’s chuckling under his breath.
“Wasn’t gon’ a say anything, love.” He helps wipe the flour dust off your face, still grinning in amusement.
In all honesty, your relationship with Price felt a little too domesticated, especially right now as you wore a frilly apron he had bought just for you.
“Your skirt’s too short, by the way.” Price grumbles, attempting to tug it down. “You sure no creeps stared at you on your way ‘ere? Wouldn’t want ya in danger.”
You push his hands away from your hips. “Even if people were staring, I’ll just punch them.”
You had tried to maintain a professional relationship with your boss but it was hard when he carelessly manhandled you and treated you like his wife rather than his daughter’s babysitter.
And all professional behaviour came crashing down when he unexpectedly stood behind you as you whisked the cookie batter.
“You look like a coke addict.” Price jokes, referring to the flour that still stained your face. “Like you got it everywhere but up your nose.”
“I can assure you, sir, I have never tried coke unless my friend daring me to snort sherbet counts.”
Price grins at your biting remark, his heavy hands falling to your waist. “Yeah? Heard it doesn’t feel too good with sherbet.”
“Not in the slightest.”
His hands trail dangerously low but you don’t have the courage to ask him to stop… nor do you really want him too. He seems to sense your willingness as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, body pressed up tightly against yours.
You feel more like his spoiled wife than a medical student just trying to pay her bills.
“You’re pretty, ya know that? Surprised you don’ have a boyfriend… or girlfriend. Or partner. Dunno what your label is.”
With shaking hands, you place the bowl filled with cookie batter to the side, afraid you’ll only spill it.
“Never met a woman as soft as you… most think I chased Lila’s mother away. But nah. Her mother ran off, leavin’ me with a baby. Not that I’m complaining, I love Lila… and without her, I wouldn’ have met you.”
You’re reduced to listening to Price’s words, stuck between his larger frame and the marbled kitchen counter.
“Sir.” You whisper but it reaches his keen ears. Everything after that is a distorted blur and you find yourself bent over the counter, clad in nothing but the apron, with Price right behind you.
Price was a mystery to you. How could a man be turned on by something as simple as an apron? Though, he was a single dad so it made sense.
Price is muttering praises in your ears as your knees tremble, threatening to buckle. You never imagined you’d be in your employer’s kitchen, having your back blown out by the man himself.
His hands were hungrily climbing your body, gripping every bit of exposed skin he could find. If it wasn’t for him holding you upright, you would have toppled to the ground in a heartbeat.
You feel Price lift a hand to grip your hair, tugging at your locks. He’s in a desperate stupor but you’re not any better, pushing back your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.
“Gon’ a fill ya up. Give you a baby of yer own. Fuck… be so pretty just like you. My perfect little wife.” He grunts in your ear. You have no energy to correct him; that you’re not actually his wife but you’d have no complaints if he bought you a ring.
If anything, his words spur you on more.
Your chest is heaving by the time you near your release. You’re whining like a damn dog, high pitched noises slipping past your saliva-slicked lips. And you only grow in volume as Price speeds up, pressing his body against your back.
He’s older than you, that’s a fact you knew from the start, but he’s definitely more experienced as well. His well thought out words have the desired effect on you as the coil in your stomach snaps.
Your fluids drip down your exposed legs, hitting the tiles kitchen ground in thick droplets. You hear Price swear under his breath, quickly pulling out and staining your back white.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Then he leads you towards his bathroom, ushering you inside and handing you a spare set of clothes.
“Imma place your old ones in the washing, yeah?” He mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you to wash off.
You sit on the shower floor for a good five minutes, replaying the moment in your head. When you finally cleanse yourself of sweat, you slip Price’s shirt over your head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his cologne. It was the one you liked too.
His clothes engulfed you as you stumbled back into the kitchen, hobbling a little.
“I guess I’ll… get going then.” You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.
Price reaches out a hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Then he nods. “See you tomorrow night, lovie.”
Right, you still had to finish those cookies and pick up your clothes.
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devosin · 1 day ago
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" be my burden " , gender neutral reader
a/n: for the girlies who hate being a burden & hate being attached to people or for those who get up mid-breakdown because it's embarrassing.
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Malleus's arms wrap around you, gently pulling you into his lap, he felt warm, soothing almost, and the overwhelming scent of pinecone and sandalwood took over your senses, almost numbing your nerves. "I'm fine", you mutter under your breath, "I should go", and despite saying so, you find your body leaning into his touch, as if it was home.
Because he was home, in this unfamiliar place you did find a home . . in Malleus, and that was something so overwhelmingly pleasant, that it made you feel almost uncomfortable . . because it just didn't feel right, the fact that someone could make you feel so loved, that suddenly nothing is too hard to bear anymore.
"You're not", he responds after awhile, a hand reaching up, to ruffle your hair, everything about him felt so gently . . something was bound to go wrong somewhere down the lines, and you don't think you could bear that, when the time comes . .
"I will be fine, I'm just overwhelmed?", you take a deep breath, and close your eyes shut, hoping to melt into his comforting touch, "It's stupid anyways . . I'm overreacting." you mumble out softly.
". . .", he pauses, he could go on and on about how being fine, and maybe getting fine, are two vastly different things, but that's something he could touch on another time, "your feelings are anything but stupid", he answers gently, shifting your weight so his forehead could touch yours, and your forced to make eye-contact.
" . . So please don't try and hide them from me.", he asks so softly, his words coated in honey, and you'd allow yourself to drown in it, if you weren't so reluctant to the idea of, "I don't want to be a burden."
The words came out before you bite your tongue and hold them back, as per usual, ". . I don't want to burden you . . especially." you whisper, and suddenly everything felt a bit lighter, it was as if you had admitted to a crime that you had carried on your back for years on end, and then it came crashing down, as the familiar feeling of dread boiled in your stomach.
"Then be my burden", he responded back with a smile, a stupid smile as if his words could erase all the troubles that plagued you. "I want to share those burdens, I want to help you . ."
"But what if . . you stop wanting those things?", you ask cautiously, "You can't waste your life on what if's my love, I need you to trust me." he responded back, "Trust that I would never stop wanting to help you and share the burden of the thoughts that hold you back.", he answered so certainly, that it felt difficult to disagree.
"I love you . . that's something no amount of what if's could take away. I could die tomorrow, but I'd die in peace knowing I loved you and was loved in return.", he gently placed a soft kiss to you lips, a peck that left your cheeks tingling, "Now . . will you tell me what's wrong?"
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Ko-fi / discord server / (2 days left) personalized advent calendar
@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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aquaticmercy · 2 days ago
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Match
Summary : You finally found your intellectual match in Bucky Barnes.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x rare book dealer!reader (she/her) 
Warnings/tags : You and Bucky are nerds (affectionate), mentions of his past. Sexual tension-filled philosophical debate. DC comics exist in the MCU as literature as per the guardians Christmas special lol. Cursing? Steamy not smut. Fluff!!!!
Word count : 5.7k
Note : This fic was inspired by that one scene in FATWS where Bucky said he read the hobbit. I just really like the idea that Bucky really really likes to read. Enjoy!
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Rare books were not just a job to you, but a vocation. You spent your days seeking out treasures, preserving them, and connecting them with people who could truly appreciate their worth. Your little shop was a haven of creaking wooden floors and shelves brimming with the worn spines of countless literary works, sunlight streaming through the tall windows.
It was your home.
On a quiet Tuesday, the bell over the door jingled.
At first, you assumed the man who walked in was lost or killing time— maybe a tourist who thought your shop was an antique or souvenir shop (you’ve gotten a lot of those over the years). 
He didn’t fit your usual profile of a customer—no tweed jackets or scholarly glasses. No suit and tie, no clean white blouse. This one was confident, albeit rough on the edges. His leather jacket and heavy boots belonged in a biker gang, his long hair brushing beautifully against his shoulders. But it was his left arm that drew your gaze—a sleek, black metal hand peeking out of his sleeve, rippling slightly when he moved.  
You recognized him instantly: James Buchanan Barnes. 
The former Winter Soldier. 
A man who belonged to history books and legends. Seeing him in person was... surreal. No article had prepared you for the magnetism he carried, no photo did him justice.
Still, you weren’t one to swoon. And you definitely weren’t about to let him see you staring a little too long into his steely blue eyes. 
“Can I help you?” you asked, keeping your voice calm and professional.
For a second, he seemed to weigh whether or not to answer. “I’m looking for a first edition of The Hobbit.”
You blinked.
That wasn’t what you’d expected. 
“It’s in the case over here,” you replied, recovering quickly. You led him to the glass display where one of your most cherished possessions lay nestled, secure and pristine.  
He muttered something like ‘just like I remember’ as he gazed at the book, his voice close to reverence.  
“Big fan?” you ventured, curious.
His lips curved up, into a faint smile. He nodded. “Always admired how he built entire worlds. The languages, the histories.” He hesitated, his voice growing quieter. “He lived through hell in the trenches, too. And from that, he wrote something… hopeful.”
You hadn’t expected that depth of understanding, and your surprise must have been obvious. “What?” he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d be the type?”
This was going to be fun, you thought.
You shrugged, trying to suppress a grin, “you’re not exactly my usual Tolkien collector.”
That earned you a sweet, gentle chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d be either, but I’ve always loved books,” he admitted, “They were one of the only constants after...” His voice faltered, remnants of his past briefly flashing behind his eyes.
You didn’t press. Instead, you followed his lead, steering the conversation back to Tolkien. “You're right about the worldbuilding. He wrote a full mythology— linguistic and cultural foundations and all. It’s like he created an alternate history.”
“Exactly.” Bucky’s smile returned, brighter this time. It had been ages since Bucky had an engaging, meaningful conversation that wasn’t about mission planning, let alone about a book. The heated, faceless debates with internet strangers—each convinced they were ultimately correct—definitely didn’t count. “It’s that attention to detail— You don’t see that much anymore.”
After that, the two of you fell into a rhythm, talking easily for nearly an hour. About Tolkien’s works, his love for language, and the way war had shaped his narratives. You even mentioned how Tolkien’s own experiences in World War I echoed the camaraderie and loss found in his stories. Bucky nodded along, sharing personal observations that surprised you—not just because of their insight, but because of how much he genuinely cared.
Back in the day, everyone saw Bucky as the classic jock, and to be fair, he was. But beneath the effortless charm, he was a nerd at heart—fascinated by books, obsessed with science, and captivated by innovation. It was Bucky who had dragged Steve along to the World Exposition of Tomorrow, it was Bucky who was eager to see Howard Stark’s presentation on flying cars. Back then, the future had been his fixation. It had been out of reach— a world of endless possibilities. 
Now, he was drawn to the past. 
He’d fallen in love with reading again. After all, he had a century of literature to catch up on. And with the internet at his fingertips, he had access to more knowledge and stories than he could have dreamed of. 
40s Bucky would’ve had a heart attack from the sheer volume of information he could consume. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just chasing a vision of what might be—he was immersing himself in what already was.
Eventually, the conversation drifted to The Lord of the Rings. 
“Did you read the trilogy?” you asked.
He nodded. “Only a couple of years ago. I didn’t even realize it was published after… everything.” He paused, frowning slightly, as if reaching into the murky depths of his memory. 
Right. You did a quick mental tally based on the books you’ve read about him. The Hobbit was published in 1937, and The Fellowship of the Ring in 1954. Bucky was presumed killed in action in 1945 and captured by a terrorist organization. So, yeah—he’d missed it.
“Hydra,” you said the thought allowed before you could stop yourself.
You winced, bracing for impact. Oh no, you thought, have I crossed a line?
“You read about me?” he asked to your surprise, likely catching you deep in thought. 
You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though your heart still beat out your chest. “Superheroes are a popular topic for peer-reviewed journals and doctoral theses. There’s a whole academic subfield about the Winter Soldier— a lot about your role in the war, too.”
His expression was unreadable, but you thought you saw a flicker of something— amusement? Whatever it was, it eased the tension you had accidentally created, and the conversation resumed.
You’ve read plenty about Bucky Barnes—the sharpshooter of the Howling Commandos, Captain America’s trusted sniper. You’ve probably read more about him in the modern age: scholars debating the pardon of the Winter Soldier, professors discussing the Sokovia Accords— a conflict in which he’d been a major player in. You’d disagreed with the Accords, of course, but that’s a story for another time. 
Right now, your focus was on the man in front of you, talking about Tolkien and his wonderful languages. See, the peer-reviewed articles about him had painted a stark picture: a kind soul turned into a cold, unfeeling weapon. But they neglected to mention that even after everything, he was still a kind soul. In person, it was hard to reconcile the man before you with the image of a killer. 
The paper also failed to mention a pleasant surprise: his mind. You realised now that Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a soldier; he was sharp, curious, a man who loved literature and sought out conversations that challenged him. It was something the world overlooked.
Yet it was there, just beneath the surface.
��Have you read the Silmarillion?” you ventured.
“I tried,” He grimaced. “Felt like reading a textbook. Not sure I even made it halfway.”
“That’s fair,” you admitted with a laugh. “It’s not the easiest read. But it’s worth it, I promise.”
Bucky didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t shut the idea down, either.  
You made a snap decision. Reaching behind the counter, you pulled out your personal copy of The Silmarillion. It wasn’t a rare edition, but it was filled with your notes in the margins, a map you’d sketched for reference, and little Post-its marking key passages. “Take this,” you offered, holding it out to him.
He hesitated, not used to kindness from beautiful strangers. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. Hopefully the notes will make it easier. And don’t even worry about returning it,” you nodded, “It’s probably for the best. I obsess over it too much.”
He took the book, his metal fingers brushing against yours as he did, making your stomach flutter. “Thanks.”
“And if you’re curious about all those papers written about you...” You looked through bookmarks on your laptop, typing ‘James Barnes’ into the search bar. You jotted down a list of academic articles you’d read— some about his time in WWII, others about his unique role as a postwar icon. “Here. If you want to see what people are saying.”
He smiled that kind smile again, folding the paper carefully and tucked it into his jacket. “I appreciate it.”
When he left with the first edition of The Hobbit, your annotated Silmarillion, and your list of articles about him, you found yourself staring at the door long after it had closed, hoping it wasn’t the last time he’d visit your shop. 
Bucky started coming in more frequently, always buying another rare book— Hemingway, Orwell, Lovecraft. The pretense was paper-thin, though, and you both knew it. 
Sure, he enjoyed books, but by that point he knew he could’ve gotten cheaper copies on a bid online (rent in a big city was expensive)— and the books he bought weren't even that rare. 
Each visit turned into a lengthy discussion that carried you through the night, far past the shop’s usual closing time.  
One afternoon, he returned something unexpected: your well-worn copy of The Silmarillion. Admittedly, you’d  missed it—  its once-pristine pages now brimming with additional notations—his handwriting mixing with yours.  
“I had to,” he said, an almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Your notes made me see it differently. It felt like a conversation.” 
You opened it, thumbing through the pages, your eyes catching his commentary. He had sharp, incisive thoughts: challenging some of your interpretations, expanding on others, and sometimes adding playful jabs in the margins when he disagreed with your analysis.
“This is dangerous,” you said, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “Do you really want a debate about Tolkienian theology?”  
“I’ve got time, doll,” he said with a grin, settling onto the stool by the counter. Your cheeks flushed at the nickname, hearts doing backflips in your ribcage.
And so, that evening, you indulged in the mind of James Buchanan Barnes, exploring his thoughts and musings about Middle-earth. For the next two hours, the two of you argued about the nature of Ilúvatar’s creation, the Fëanor tragic story, and whether or not Morgoth represented a failure of divine providence.  
“I’ll admit,” he said at one point, leaning back and crossing his arms, “I wasn’t expecting it to feel so... biblical.”  
“It’s a way to think about creation through the lens of fantasy,” you replied, your voice softening as you traced your fingers over the book’s cover. “There’s a reason people get lost in it.”  
He watched you for a moment, his gaze lingering, his smile fading into something softer. 
It wasn’t the only time your conversations would take a turn like this. A week later, gothic monsters were your battlefield.
Bucky leaned against the counter, an old edition of Dracula he had just purchased in his hands, the worn leather squeaking as he shifted. His brow furrowed in that way that always made you wonder what he was thinking— though you had a feeling he was about to pick a fight, again.
“You’re out of your mind if you think Frankenstein beats Dracula,” he said, glancing up, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
“I’m not saying they’re even comparable,” you countered, crossing your arms as you leaned against the opposite side of the counter. “They’re completely different genres. It’s not a fair fight. But if it were... Frankenstein wins. Hands down.”
Bucky chuckled, a low, warm sound that made it impossible not to smile. “You think that because you’re obsessed with sci-fi. If it’s got a fake scientist and a lot of regret, you’re sold.”
“And you think Dracula is better because it’s all dark and broody,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow, “sound familiar?” You smirked, mirroring his stance against the opposite side of the counter. “Besides, Frankenstein is a masterpiece—philosophy, morality, hubris—it’s got layers. What’s Dracula got? Melodrama?”
“Hey! Dracula has layers!” Bucky chuckled low in his throat, setting the book down. “It’s about primal fear, wrapped in ancient powers, wrapped again in the clash between tradition and modernity.”
“It is enjoyable, I must admit, but it’s just a glorified soap opera.” You groaned, though your lips twitched in spite of yourself. “Shelley’s work makes you think, you know? It’s art.”
“Art?!” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse skip. “It’s a guy making bad decisions and spending the rest of the book dodging the consequences.”
You straightened, eyes narrowing. “It’s about responsibility! The monster is a reflection of Victor’s failure. He’s abandoned and searching for connection—”
“And whining about it,” Bucky interrupted with a smirk, folding his arms. “Dracula doesn’t whine.”
The playful sparring faded when it hit you.
Frankenstein’s monster was created without consent, shaped into something he never chose to be. He was cast out, left to navigate a world that saw him as a mistake. The monster was isolated— burdened by guilt—the question of whether he was defined by the harm he’d done.
“Does he…” you started, gulping, unsure of how he’d react to an outright observation. “Does Frankenstein’s monster make you uncomfortable?”
As you stepped closer, his expression faltered, his eyes dropping to the book in his hands. Slowly, he set it aside, the movement deliberate. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the cold surface of his metal arm before resting there gently. “Does it hit too close to home?” you asked.
He didn’t deny it. A quiet laugh escaped him instead. He shook his head. “You’re too damn perceptive for your own good,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a longing for something you couldn’t quite place.  
Your fingers moved in slow circles against his metal hand, and when it twitched beneath your touch, you knew he felt it—knew he felt you.  
“The monster was never the villain,” you said, a fragile offering meant to soothe him. “He just needed someone to see him. He can be kind, too.”  
His gaze lifted, locking onto yours, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes stole the air from your lungs. For a heartbeat, the world stilled. 
Then Bucky’s smirk returned, smaller this time, as he leaned into your touch as if he craved it. “Nice try,” he said, voice lighter but still soft. “You’re not winning this one. Dracula’s better.”
You laughed, the tension breaking just enough to let you breathe again. “You’re impossible, Barnes.”
You were afraid you had scared him off after that, but to your surprise, he returned a week later, albeit a bit bruised from a mission.  
You’d been reshelving old graphic novels that day (First Edition Hergé that you were quite excited by), the quiet hum of the shop wrapping you in comfortable silence, when you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye. His dark leather jacket hung slightly open, revealing a plain gray shirt that stretched just enough across his chest to draw your eyes. There was a faint cut near his jaw, still healing.  
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. His eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary. “You look beautiful today. Is that a new dress?”
Your breath caught, and a warmth crept up your neck as you glanced down at the simple, flowy dress you’d chosen that morning. “It is,” you admitted, looking back up at him with a shy smile. “Thanks for noticing.”
“Hard not to,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small, almost teasing smile before he turned toward the shelves.
You busied yourself with reshelving more books behind the counter, but you couldn’t help watching him out of the corner of your eye. His human hand traced idly along the spines, careful not to inflict damage. When he stopped, he plucked a rare-ish pocket 6th edition of Thus Spake Zarathustra from the shelf, his metal fingers glinting faintly in the light of the shop.
“You actually like this guy?” he asked quietly, lifting the book like he was sharing a secret.  
“Like is a strong word,” you said, stepping out from behind the ladder. His gaze caught yours, and there was a flicker of something playful in those blue eyes. Your pulse quickened, beckoning him to the counter. “He was no saint, but hardly anyone is. I… appreciate his contribution. It’s not his fault people misuse his work.” 
Bucky had witnessed it firsthand: fascists distorting Nietzsche's philosophy, disregarding its complexities, and twisting his ideas into a justification for genocide.
His lips turned upward, a lopsided grin that softened the sharpness of his jaw. His stance shifted, leaning against the counter with a practiced ease. His eyes flickered, taking you in, and when you crossed your arms, his gaze lingered briefly, enough to spark a bubbling heat beneath your skin.  
“You don’t think Nietzsche was a proto-fascist, do you?” you asked, tilting your head.  
“God, no,” he said quickly, amusement softening his voice. His grin spread, revealing the faintest cute dimple in his cheek. “I’ve read enough to know better. But I don’t exactly buy the Übermensch thing either. It’s too... self-centered for my taste. The whole idea of being ‘beyond good and evil’ feels dangerous.”  
“That’s fair,” you said, closing the distance between you as you reached for the book in his hand. Your fingers brushed his as you slipped it from his grasp, his touch warm, steady, almost deliberate. His eyes flickered down to where your hands had met. “There are many flaws in his thinking, but I don’t think the concept is inherently bad,” you continued, the air between you charged with tension. You tilted the book toward him, as though showing him something, though you both knew you weren’t really focused on the pages. “It’s about striving for a better version of yourself. I think he wanted people to create their own meaning, not follow blindly.”  
“Maybe,” Bucky murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He shifted closer, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter, the sound echoing in the quiet room. His metal hand rested at his side, the vibranium gleaming faintly as his other hand inched forward, almost brushing yours.  
His breath fanned your cheek as he leaned in, close enough now that you could see the stubble along his jaw, the way his lashes framed those blue eyes. “But there’s something so… wrong about thinking you’re the one who gets to decide what’s right,” he whispered, his voice like a secret meant only for you.  
He was close, dangerously so— that you could feel his breath on your nose.
The bell above the door chimed suddenly, breaking the moment like shattered glass. Dr. Hart, a lecturer from the local university, stepped inside, a bundle of papers tucked under her arm, and smiled in greeting.  
She was a returning customer, here to pick up a special edition of Conversation on Botany that you had tracked down for her.
“That’s $40, Mr. Barnes,” You took a small, steadying breath and waved at Hart with a thumbs up that said I’ve got your book.
His lips twitched into a knowing smile. Hr reached for his wallet, pulling out a few bills. As he handed them to you, his fingers brushed yours again.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, his voice soft, almost teasing.
The tipping point came late one evening.  
You’d spent the last few hours catalouging a shipment of rare books, the shop’s air thick with the comforting scent of old leather, yellowing paper, and the faint hint of dust that always seemed to cling to ancient texts. The shop was silent save for the scratch of your pen against paper as you logged the latest arrival.  
The peace shattered with the familiar jingle of the bell above the door.  
“Shop’s closed,” you said without looking up, your voice automatic, your focus still on the fragile spine of a sixteenth-century text.  
“Good thing I’m not here to shop,” came the deep, unmistakable voice of Bucky Barnes.  
Your hand froze, an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You looked up, finding him leaning against the doorframe with that trademark blend of casual confidence and smoldering intensity. His black Henley stretched across his chest, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms—a sight you tried not to dwell on for too long.  
“What are you here for, then?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you tried to sound indifferent.  
“Conversation,” he said simply, stepping further inside.  
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you returned to your work. “You came all the way here just to talk?”  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he teased, his lips turning into a sly smile as he perched on the edge of your desk. “I was in the neighborhood.”  
You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother responding. Bucky always had a way of pulling your attention, and tonight was no different. You tried to focus on the delicate bindings in front of you, but his overwhelming presence was impossible to ignore.  
When he reached for a book from the nearby stack—a copy of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius—you finally gave in.  
“Stoicism?” you asked, your tone light with playful mockery. 
He flipped the book open, his fingers grazing the thin pages. “You’re really surprised? I thought you’d figure that about me,” he said, glancing up at you with a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “Marcus Aurelius had a lot to say about self-control.”  
“And yet here you are…” you replied, gesturing to where he was leaning across your workspace, a soft furrow of amusement on your eyebrows. You decided you could be flirty— eyeing the undone button of his Henley, showing a hint of his skin underneath. “...testing mine.”  
The corners of his mouth curved. “Guess I’m doing my part to help you practice.”  
You shook your head, half-smiling. “It’s not just about self-control, now is it? It’s about accepting what you can’t change.”  
He tilted his head, agreeing with you. “Or a way to stop drowning in things you can’t fix.”  
From there, the conversation unfurled like a thread you couldn’t stop pulling. Philosophy, morality, the nature of good and evil—it didn’t take long before you were fully engrossed, debating with a ferocity that surprised even you. Bucky was sharp, quick-witted, and maddeningly good at challenging your points. Every time you thought you had the upper hand, he’d counter with something so precise, so well-argued, that you couldn’t help but admire his mind.  
As the debate shifted, you sat on your desk, its surface cluttered with books that were hard to find, but not rare enough to be put in a glass case. Your focus was solely on Bucky, who was pacing the room with measured steps, his hands brushing against the edges of shelves every so often as though grounding himself.
“Alright,” you said, leaning forward, crossing your legs. “Here’s a question for you: Should Batman kill the Joker?” 
Slowly, he turned and walked closer to you, his shoes thudding softly against the floor. He stopped just short of your legs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, making your pulse quicken.
Oh, that piqued his interest.
“I should’ve known you’d bring up Batman.” Bucky’s lips curved into a smirk, eyeing up the first print of 90s DC comics in the corner of the room that hadn’t been there two days ago— a fresh delivery, perhaps? You were always very topical, and the recent restocks somehow always made their way into conversation.
“It’s a valid moral dilemma,” you said, straightening, your chin lifting slightly. 
He tilted his head, his expression a blend of amusement and challenge. “Why don’t you tell me?”  
“Of course he should,” You didn’t hesitate, the answer rolling off your tongue with absolute conviction. “The Joker is a mass murderer. Every time Batman spares him, more people die. His refusal to act is just as bad as pulling the trigger himself.”  
Bucky’s smile lingered, but his gaze grew darker, ever so slightly. “So you’re saying Batman’s refusal to kill makes him complicit?”  
“Yes,” you said firmly, leaning in slightly, the heat of the argument pulling you closer. “Batman’s morality is Kantian—rigid rules and all. But if he were more… utilitarian, he’d save more lives. The greatest good for the greatest number. One life to save countless others.”  
“That kind of math doesn’t scare you?” Bucky asked, leaning back as though to put some distance between you, though his eyes stayed locked on yours. “Once you start deciding whose lives matter more, where do you stop?”  
“It’s not about worth,” you argued, the intensity rippling from him unnerving but impossible to look away from. “It’s about outcomes. If you can prevent suffering, don’t you have a responsibility to do it?”  
The silence that followed felt heavier than it should’ve. His jaw clicked a bit, tightening as he considered your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, shyer.
“If that’s your stance, then maybe someone should’ve killed the Winter Soldier years ago.”  
His words hit you like a punch in the gut, your breath catching. The implication of his statement filled the room, coiling tight around your chest.  
“Bucky,” you said quickly, panic creeping into your voice, your fingers twitching toward him but freezing halfway. “That’s not—”  
The corner of his mouth curved into a small, fragile smile. “Relax,” he said, holding up a hand, his voice dipping into something gentler. “I’m not offended. This is just a debate, right?”  
“It’s not the same,” you insisted, your voice gentler, almost pleading. You stood from your desk, hesitation in your chest as you reached out— you were scared he might pull away, “you were brainwashed.” Slowly, you pressed your hand to his cheek, his stubble rough beneath your palm. It was a wordless apology—a pathetic attempt to comfort, to reach him where words had failed. 
To your surprise, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he leaned into your touch. 
Bucky, slid his arm around your waist, testing the waters. His eyes flicked to yours, searching for any sign of rejection, any hint that he’d crossed a line. But there were none. Instead, the subtle hitch in your breath and the way you leaned into him told him everything he needed to know.
He shook his head, rubbing soft circles on your hip as if to say you’re okay. This conversation is more than okay. “But in the grand scheme of utilitarianism, it shouldn’t matter, right? My life was a liability. More people would’ve been saved if I hadn’t been around to hurt them.”  
His words settled over you like a storm cloud. The silence stretched, your carefully crafted argument unraveling in the face of his lived experience.  
He leaned forward then, bridging the space between you, his arm pinning you in place. “Maybe I understand Batman better than most,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “Killing someone doesn’t always fix what’s broken. It just leaves you with blood on your hands.”  
Your throat tightened, the words sticking. He was too close now, the tension between you buzzing like a static current.  
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it.  
“Don’t be.” His words were soft as he pulled you closer. There was always a hint of warmth in his eyes, an unspoken kindness you admired.
The room felt smaller now, more heated. You opened your mouth to respond, but his words had stolen all the air from your lungs.  
He leaned in, his voice dropping. “It’s easy to talk about morality in the abstract. But when you’re staring someone in the face—when it’s a real person, and not just an idea—it gets a lot harder to play God.”  
Shit.
He was right.  
Maybe utilitarianism wasn’t a steadfast rule. Maybe it couldn’t be, not when you factored in the messy, unpredictable depths of human existence. Lives weren’t just numbers to balance on a scale—they were stories, choices, pain, hope. And Bucky… Bucky was proof of that.  
Your thoughts churned as you looked at him.
You felt your conviction unravel. It wasn’t just that his argument was sound—though it was (infuriatingly so)—it was the way he’d delivered it, the personal truth lending it undeniable power. And that’s when it hit you. That’s why you found him so damn attractive.  
Sure, he was gorgeous. The sharp lines of his jawline, the piercing blue of his eyes, the way his Henley stretched over his shoulders like it had been designed with him in mind. But that wasn’t it. Not entirely.  
It was him. His humanity. His thoughtfulness. The kindness that softened the edges, the depth that came from wrestling with his own darkness and coming out better on the other side.  
And he was brilliant. For the first time, you felt like you’d met your match. Someone who met you on your turf and stood his ground, someone who didn’t just nod along or agree to avoid conflict. Someone who could challenge you, who could look you in the eye and make you see the world differently.  
You thought you’d built your worldview on unshakable foundations, but he’d cracked it wide open, and now all you could do was stare at him with the dawning realisation that this wasn’t just attraction. It was something deeper, something that terrified and thrilled you in equal measure.  
He wasn’t just a match for you physically; he was your intellectual equal—a rare kind of connection that made your pulse race and left your thoughts spinning.
Before you could stop yourself, before you could think it through, you leaned forward and kissed him.  
It was impulsive—a collision of lips born from the fiery tension that had simmered between you for weeks. It was everything unsaid, every glance, every near touch that had lingered just a fraction too long, all boiling over in one moment. He froze for the briefest heartbeat, but then something in him snapped. His hands found you, pulling you closer, his grip possessive, almost desperate. Your hands made their way through the soft strands of his hair, landing comfortably around his neck.
The kiss, slow at first, quickly became frantic. Neither of you could get enough. The only thing that mattered was him—his lips on yours, his touch, the way his body pressed against you like a promise. 
When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours, his lips curled into a breathless smile. For a second, he could forget about everything that has happened to him. For a second, he was truly, utterly safe in your arms.
“I didn’t think you were the type to kiss someone in the middle of a moral argument about Batman,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his lips grazing yours with every word, sending shivers down your spine.
“And I didn’t think you’d let me,” you replied, your voice laced with a mischievous edge.
His eyes darkened, his smile widening just enough to make your heart race before he closed the distance again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. This time, it wasn’t careful or calculated—it was raw, fervent, consuming. Your back hit the desk behind you, his hands sliding around your waist and around the curve of your bum, firm and deliberate, setting every nerve in your body on fire. 
“The books,” he mumbled against your lips, glancing at the teetering stack beside you, the volumes threatening to topple.
“I don’t care,” you said breathlessly, and to prove your point, you swiped the entire stack to the floor with a crash. The sound echoed, but you barely heard it over the roaring thump of your heartbeat in your ears. 
They weren’t too rare. You’ll just put them on the discount aisle tomorrow. 
His response was a low, guttural groan, his lips finding yours again, His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make your head tilt back, exposing the sensitive curve of your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, his lips and teeth trailing along your skin, finding the spot just below your ear that made you gasp. 
“Did I manage to change your mind this time?” he murmured against your ear, his voice rough and unsteady as his lips brushed against your jaw, then lower, tracing a heated path along your collarbone. 
You managed a breathless laugh, your fingers slipping under his shirt to trace the veins under his skin, his muscles tensing under your touch. “Okay, so maybe ‘the greatest good for the greatest number’ isn’t always the best approach when you’re the one holding the short end of the categorical imperative,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.
His laugh was husky, his hands lower to grip your thighs, pushing himself flush against you. “God, you’re something else,” he said, his lips finding yours again, this time slower, deeper, as though savoring you. When he finally pulled back, his voice was hoarse. “Do you want to go on a date?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “You’re seriously asking me that now?” you asked, breathless. With your hands trailing over the planes of his chest, his breath mingling with yours, it seemed a bit out of order, but you weren’t about to complain.
“Yes,” he said, his words dead serious despite the way his hands clutched at your shirt, his lips finding the hollow of your throat. He kissed the spot slowly, firmly, making your legs feel numb. “I mean it,” he added, his voice softer, yet no less insistent.
You let out a breathless laugh, tugging him into another kiss, the kind that left no room for doubt about your answer. “Then yes,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “We’re going to have a lot to talk about.”
And boy, were you excited to talk to this man— a man who could turn the simplest circumstances into a philosophical debate, someone who wasn’t afraid to dispute your ideals. 
Someone who was your match.
“Later,” he rasped, his voice gravelly with need, his hands trailing up to tug his henley over his head in one fluid motion. The sight of him stole the breath from your lungs, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it before he was kissing you again, his bare skin pressed against you as he lifted your shirt off. “We can talk later.”
-end.
356 notes · View notes
simplygojo · 2 days ago
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How To Handle A Sulk...
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Author's Note: Helloooo!!! I really liked this idea from the lovely 🫧 anon! tysm for requesting and I hope you like this blurb :) Grumpy Suguru is no match for the reader!
Wordcount: 1.1k
Pairing: Suguru Geto x reader
Warnings: angsty suguru, pouty boy, invasions of personal space lowkey, funny reader (ofc), suggestive content, fem!pronouns used,
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masterlist // request guidelines // kofi // discord channel
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You could tell Suguru was in one of those moods the moment you walked through the door.
He was perched on the couch, his dark hair pulled into a slightly messy bun, arms crossed over his chest. His legs sprawled out in front of him, taking up more than his fair share of the space, and an unmistakable grumpiness overshadowed his usual air of quiet confidence.
“Rough day?” you asked casually, setting your bag down on the counter.
He grunted in response, eyes glued to the TV. You glanced at the screen—a nature documentary you knew he wasn’t watching.
Uh-oh.
Suguru in a sulk wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened often enough for you to know the signs: clipped responses, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the furrow just above the bridge of his nose that deepened every time the narrator’s voice droned on about ocean predators.
You let him stew for a few minutes while you busied yourself in the kitchen, brewing tea the way he liked it. By the time you returned, balancing the steaming mug in one hand and your resolve to lighten the mood in the other, he hadn’t budged an inch.
“Alright, grumpy pants,” you announced, setting the tea on the coffee table with a small clink. “What’s eating you?”
“I’m fine,” he muttered, his baritone voice a touch sharper than usual.
“Uh-huh. Sure you are.”
Sliding onto the couch next to him, you folded your legs beneath you and leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the back of the couch. 
His profile was as sharp as ever, jaw tight and lips faintly downturned, but the faintest pink dusted his ears—a telltale sign that his mood wasn’t as impenetrable as he wanted it to be.
“I mean, you’re obviously in a great mood,” you said breezily, resting your chin in your palm. “Sulking on the couch, ignoring your very sweet girlfriend who brought you tea. Definitely fine.”
His jaw twitched, and he finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes narrowed in a mix of irritation and challenge. “I’m not sulking.”
You gasped, mock-offended, your hand flying to your chest. “Oh no, of course not. You’re just brooding dramatically in silence. Completely different.”
He sighed, leaning back against the couch with an air of exasperation that was almost theatrical. 
His arms stayed firmly crossed, his muscles tensing under the fabric of his sweater.
You couldn’t help but smile. It was just so Suguru to sulk like this, to wrap himself in his mood and let it stew. But you also knew how to coax him out of it.
“Alright, big guy,” you said, shifting closer to him, your knee brushing against his thigh. “Let’s see if we can’t make you crack.”
He arched an eyebrow but didn’t move away as you placed your hand lightly on his chest, fingers grazing over the soft knit of his sweater.
“You’re too handsome to sit around pouting like this, you know. It’s practically a crime.”
He let out a soft huff, his eyes flicking back to the TV, but you caught the faintest twitch of his lips.
Undeterred, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek. “The perfect boyfriend package—handsome, smart, and broody. How did I get so lucky?” 
Suguru didn’t budge, his jaw tightening further as his eyes flicked back to the TV.
It was a deliberate move like he was determined to pretend your touch hadn’t fazed him.
His lack of reaction only fueled your determination.
“Hmm,” you hummed softly, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his cheek again—this time just a little slower. 
“Not even a thank you? I’m sitting here, pouring my heart out about how irritatingly perfect you are, and you’re giving me nothing?”
Still, nothing. 
His expression remained stoic, his shoulders rigid, his eyes trained stubbornly on the screen as if the documentary about penguin migration was the most riveting thing in the world.
You tilted your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. 
“Alright,” you murmured, voice dropping just enough to make the words linger in the air, “guess I’ll just have to try harder.”
Your hand, which had been resting lightly on his chest, began a slow descent, grazing the soft fabric of his sweater as your fingertips skimmed over his stomach. 
You could feel the faintest twitch beneath your touch, the slightest shift in his breathing, but still, he didn’t look at you.
His silence was its own challenge, and you weren’t one to back down.
“You’re really going to ignore me?” you asked, your tone laced with playful disbelief as your hand drifted even lower, grazing his thigh—not quite enough to cross a line, but enough to make your intentions crystal clear.
For a moment, you thought you saw his lips twitch, a crack in his carefully constructed indifference.
But when you glanced up at his face, it was still set in that infuriatingly stoic expression, his dark eyes unyielding as they stared straight ahead.
“Oh, come on, Suguru,” you pressed, leaning in until your breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone completely cold on me.”
His fingers twitched where they rested on his knee, but he still didn’t look at you.
You sighed dramatically, shifting closer so that your thigh pressed against his.
“Fine, be that way,” you murmured, brushing your lips against his jaw this time, slow and deliberate.
That did it.
It wasn’t much—just the faintest intake of breath, the smallest flicker in his eyes—but it was enough to tell you that his calm façade was slipping.
Suguru stiffened immediately, his head snapping toward you, the flush on his ears now spreading to his cheeks. 
“Y/n—” he started, his voice lower and warning, but the slight crack at the end of his sentence betrayed him.
You smirked, tilting your head innocently as your fingers lingered, not quite touching him but enough to make him squirm. “Hmm? Something wrong?”
He narrowed his eyes, but the blush creeping across his face told you everything you needed to know. You pressed another kiss to his cheek, softer this time, your lips lingering just long enough to make his breath hitch.
“You’re insufferable,” he muttered, but his voice had lost its edge, the irritation melting into something quieter, more vulnerable.
“And you love it,” you teased, finally moving your hand away to rest against his arm instead.
His muscles were tense under your touch, but as you ran your fingers along his forearm, you felt him slowly relax.
A moment passed before he sighed again, this time less dramatic and more resigned. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“Oh, I know,” you said brightly, leaning your head on his shoulder. He didn’t pull away, and you smiled against the soft fabric of his sweater, satisfied with your small victory.
It wasn’t long before you felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer…
Yeah, grumpy Suguru didn’t stand a chance against you.
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179 notes · View notes
jo-speaks · 2 days ago
Note
Happy birthday 🫶🏽
🎂, i'm all yours ... fuck- all yours–, with LUKEEEEEE HUGHESSSS 🫶🏽
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warnings: smut below the cut!! mdni! car sex, sub! luke, i think that's all!
requests for this celebration are still open! you can request here :)
wc: 352
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You hadn’t expected to care so much when you saw Luke talking to another girl. It was late, you were at a bar, and there were other women around. Drunk women. 
It was hard to tell what exactly they were talking about as you were leaving the bathrooms as they were a good distance from where your boyfriend was waiting for you. You had left him unattended and he couldn’t help but feel awkward at the lack of your presence. For some reason, this girl thought he was trying to be the shy, approachable guy. 
And that’s how you landed in your current situation. 
Your hands streaked the foggy windows of Luke’s car, trying to hold yourself steady as you dropped your hips up and down on his throbbing length. 
“Can she ride you like this, huh? Can she?” You asked, every one of your movements being fueled by jealousy.
Luke groaned loudly, shaking his head rapidly. “No. Only you.” 
You smiled, satisfied at his answer. However, you wanted more. You sped up your hips, doing your best to keep your head from hitting the roof of the vehicle. Luke was losing it beneath you, his eyes fluttering shut as he couldn’t handle the way your breasts were bouncing right in above his face but unable to touch them as you had instructed him to keep them on your hips. 
Who was he to disobey your words when you were riding him this well?
 “Say it. I wanna hear you say it, baby.” You teased, slowing your pace which elicited a whine from the man below you.
Luke opened his eyes, catching your fiery gaze. He took a second to collect himself, his brain turning to mush and words seeming impossible as you sped up yet again in hopes of getting the answer you wanted faster.
“I’m all yours.” He whimpered as you began to touch your clit, “Fuck, I’m all yours.”
You grinned, satisfied at his answer. There was something reassuring in his saying of those three words. It wasn’t just to please you, he was speaking the truth. 
“Atta boy. Cum for me, yeah?”
194 notes · View notes
tuliptic · 2 days ago
Text
Start Line: Growing and Transforming
We've been running this far, non-stop, all day yeah   Never getting tired, we keep up this runner's high   You know graduation   Even though it's over, it's not the end   Put on some new shoes   Yeah we're ready at the start line
Things have been difficult for a lot of us, and sometimes, we just want a flicker of hope, or some words of encouragement that can push us to go further. Just… Something, a message, to tell us that the pain we’re going through right now is temporary, and things will be better. 
Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and tell yourself that you’re on a brand new start line, and ask for the messages you’re called to hear. Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.
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Pile 1 - Pile 2
Pile 3 - Pile 4
Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.
Decks used: Crossing Star Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self-made lyrics deck.
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Pile 1
One card to represent you: The Magician rx
The first thought that popped into my mind is that… You’ve probably been told (many times) that you’re a good manifestor, but you have not seen it working out for you, or at least, not at the moment. You’ll need to try an error (or maybe errors) to find what works for you, and what works best for you. It can be rather disheartening to fail, but look for the opportunities in life’s challenges and learn the lessons. You work better by letting your physical body learn rather than your brain to absorb the knowledge. You probably have also noticed your tendency to self-sabotage, but you don’t intend to do anything about it. Perhaps, not at the moment, as you’re not in a right place yet to fix yourself, but you need to remember it and to work on it.
1. Why have things happened?  - Four of Cups
You have been too focused on what you’re feeling and not looking at the outer world, on whatever that’s happening around you or to you. This definitely has something to do with The Magician rx above, where you’re sabotaging yourself and not focusing on the present. It’s giving me very… Neptune rx in Pisces vibes, so some of you who picked this pile may have Pisces placements. It’s like living in the world yet not living at the same time, where you’re floating and drifting, not seeing where you’re at or where you’re going. Life has been throwing you opportunities to learn the lessons, but you’re not learning it. Not to mention that you’re not organising what it is that you’re feeling inside and to do something about it. With all of that happening, some of you may feel you’re at a standstill or some will have their head and heart wrapped up in different bags and not know how to unify them.
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Pentacles rx
You have to stop dilly-dallying, and pick up the pace if you want to move away from where you’re standing. Sure, ADHD paralysis is difficult to deal with when you’re frozen (I’m referring to myself as well, in case y’all think I’m attacking anyone), but it is already something if you can move yourself away from the way of harm first. My first thought here is to train your body to be able to move on autopilot from time to time, which will help you in countless ways. Sure, you’re still sluggish and unenthusiastic, but let your body move first, exercise, and let your brain rest during those times.  Another way you can attempt to stop those thoughts is to get help. Not only external help from professionals, but more of building healthy interpersonal relationships. True friends will want to help you to be better, and will be willing to spend some time to accompany you to carry out activities that are beneficial for both of you.
3. What to look forward to? - The Magician rx
You’ll be able to tap into your energy. I do think that this is a time for you to work together with your manifestation talent/skill, and for you to decide which direction you want to head. You need to remember that the direction you’re going is not something fixed, so no worries in making a decision. You can change that anytime, or go on a different journey if it doesn’t fit you. The more important thing is to have a welcoming heart, to dream and invite limitless magic into your life, allow your guides to show in unexpected ways. Do not be afraid, go step by step and find out what works for you.  Of course, you can look forward to this if you take action. If you’re not doing anything, do not hope or wish for things to fall directly into your laps.
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - The Tower
You’ve gone through a huge upheaval, you’ve gone through a lot of chaos and traumas in the past. Now, you’re going through another fundamental shift. It may not be as tremendous and messy as it was in the past, but this shift is something more of an energy thing, where you need to learn to be more selective with where and who you want to spend your energy on. This energy encompasses mental, spiritual and physical energy, and you have to remember that you’re also an exhaustible being, where you can’t focus on others forever. Look back, and you’ll see how far you’ve gone from that unhappy place. Remind yourself that you’re able to do it again. Once you’ve grown from it, you’ll also be more free to explore your skills and abilities. You’ve always had a tendency to have a foot in almost everything, and with you now knowing how to distribute your energy and time? You definitely can. You can try focusing on what’s in front of you instead of attempting to explore far, you might find treasures closer to you instead.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Chariot
The Chariot talks about action and goal. I don’t think I need to say much on this, as it’s pretty self explanatory. However, remember to hold onto your reins as you move towards wherever it is you’re heading. You need to have a clear goal and a destination, else you’ll run out of energy/fuel, and you may end up in different places. You’ll need a clear and visible goal, and the stages need to be well defined and measurable. You get strength from seeing actual results, and that’s when you gain the confidence to continue moving forward. You will get justice when you’re moving forward. The justice here is internal, as it is more towards countering the self-sabotaging part of you. It’s difficult, but once you wipe the tears and bite on the happiness you’re seeing, you’ll know your purpose in life, and you’ll taste that justice.
6. Advice for you - Five of Pentacles, Nine of Cups rx, Ace of Cups rx
Some of you may be facing financial difficulties or even health problems. It’s best if you work on them now as you prepare for what it is to come. It can be quite disheartening at times when you question and wonder why hard times fall on you more often than others. This may also result in an unhealthy stream of emotions. Emotions itself isn’t a bad thing, the problem would be how you’re managing it. Don’t hold them in and stack them up. Find a safe place to release them, understand those emotions and nurture yourself back. Place your trust in the Universe, believe that whatever that is happening to you right now is part of a greater plan. Twist your thoughts a little, see it as a blessing where you’re finding problems when it’s still salvageable (it’s still painful but hey, we can work on it eventually). Tune into your heart, listen to your wishes, and look at what you have achieved throughout the years. Your wishes of the past are now fulfilled, and you’ve finally built the life you’ve wanted when you were much younger. Well, it may exist in different forms, or you’ve gotten it not according to how you originally planned, but it’s there. Know that you can change your wishes into reality because you have the power. Believe in yourself. Let’s say if you want to recover faster, you can manifest quicker healing. You can. Just make sure that you do not fall into the habit of feeling dejected and dissatisfied quickly. Hold on to a heart of gratitude. It will open up doors for you.
Overall energy: The Tower rx, Six of Pentacles
There’s a mix of energy here. You’re unsatisfied that things have gone out of your control, yet there’s also a sense of relief that you are not responsible over those things going out of control. Despite the difficult times, you still hold generosity in your heart, where you offer what you have (materials, energy, time) to those who need them. In turn, you’ll also be blessed with what you need. Accept help given to you with an open heart and a grateful attitude. The greater plan the Universe has in mind for you may have something to do with people and connection, so that may be an aspect you want to pay attention to. Things or memories from the past can be resurfacing, so stop hiding or running away, and face them. 
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Pile 2
One card to represent you: Death
First thing I’m picking up here is that you’re going through a lot of changes right now, and the next thing is that… You’re being watched over. There's a lot, and I mean A WHOLE LOT of things that are going on right now, and they’re overflowing your plate. I could sense a certain level of panic and dread over everything, but there’s also some form of apathy where you’re tired of everything and anything happening all at once. There’s too much that’s going on to the point you have no idea where or what to focus on, so you’re probably at a standstill where you’re looking at the overflowing plate, doing nothing. I’d say that this is a “freeze” response because you’re at a point where you can’t process anything at the moment, but once your brain starts spinning again, you’ll get things done. You have people watching over you, or your guides are protecting you at this time. Imagine you’re standing still in the middle of the path but no one is hitting you. It’s like that. Your guides are making sure that you have enough time to process whatever that’s happening to you and around you. Once you start moving, they’ll follow behind you and help you out when you ask them, especially when you’re facing any confrontation.
1. Why have things happened? - The Hermit rx
You’ve withdrawn yourself from certain aspects of life (friendship, or work, or a certain class, or even a hobby) with attempts of healing yourself and to give yourself more time. Sure, you’ve got the time, but those times were not spent on yourself, those free times were not helping you, but the other people in your life. In another sense, you were still busy, and you did not get the rest you needed.  There’s a certain level of emptiness that I’m feeling here, and that you’re torn as well, not sure if you want to fill that emptiness or you want to remain it as so because of the comfort of being used to it. Do you trust yourself, with the steps and decisions you’ve been making? BET ON ME by ITZY was playing as I typed this out, and I do feel that there’s a message in this song for you.
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - King of Pentacles rx
King of Pentacles is generally the last card of the deck, and what I'm seeing here is that you still have a lot more to go, that things are not final yet, and you have the ability (King) to change things to your favour. I understand that you're currently in a flight or freeze mindset, but you need to work your brain to trick it a little so that it moves, and you can reprogram it a little so that you can move away from the spot you froze. Be kind to yourself and let go of those thoughts that are haunting you, step away from those self-criticism, know that you deserve gentleness. The King is abundant in finances, life experience, but I'd also like to add connections into this list. To be a King, you must have known to pull strings around to make things work, to make sure you win the trust of the people. To achieve that, you need good and skillful people who are willing to listen to your plans and to make them work. Those connections are what will help you throughout your difficult times. Sure, people may have turned you down in the past, but know that they may not be in any position to extend any help back then, and that things may be different now. They will be more capable now. Some… May have a really painful tongue, not filtering their words. But still, they will help, and you'll be surprised with what they're able to offer.
3. What to look forward to? - Ten of Cups rx
This… probably is not gonna sound ideal to a lot of people but… You can look forward to having a fresh start. It's like the cups you have are now poured clean, and you are forced to redo things again, to fill them up again but this time, you get to choose what you fill them up with. Previously, when you were growing up, people around you filled those cups for you, helping you make decisions (that you may not like or agree with), or even tainting them (putting droplets of other things in it), and those form you to who you are today. But, by pouring them clean (a very, very painful process), you are now able to pour and fill your cups with whatever you want and whatever you need. You'll be able to work with your dreams and spirit's energy to reach your highest good as you fiercely protect your cups, your energy, your life. Your life is now yours to write.
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Three of Wands
It feels like you have left behind a lot of original plans that you have made for yourself in the past as you build yourself anew. There's a lot of internal cleansing done, and you've decided to start everything from scratch again. You'll be able to build things again and fully immerse yourself in a new future you'll create. You've learnt to grow from pain and to see the smaller happiness in life, learning to accept that growth is inevitable. Visualisation is also vital here, where you will need to immerse yourself in whatever you have now as you visualise where you will be standing in the future. You decide your own path, and you have to walk it.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Ten of Swords rx
Things will start getting better once you pull out all the swords from your back. There's a lot of… Purging. Yeah, purging is a more suitable word to use for your situation. Your situation is like the shelf full of ceramic plates that will crash the moment you open that door. But you still need to open it, you'll need to let all of those fall, and you can clean it, to make space for new items to put in. You now can choose metal plates, or plastic plates to put in, whatever it is that you want. But first, you need to clean the space, only then you'll invite limitless magic into your life and allow your spirit guides to show up in unexpected ways. They are there for you, through a breeze, through a flyer, through a sudden noise to stop you from crossing the road. Once you've made space, that's when you'll get your justice by living your best self.
6. Advice for you - King of Wands rx, Strength rx, Six of Swords rx
There's another King card here, telling me that whatever you're going through right now is not an easy one. It probably will be there a little longer and it is what will help you to build up your upcoming new life, to start everything again. You will need to be at peace with yourself and be kind to yourself first.  Turn your strength and focus inwards, nurture yourself, and do not shy from cutting people out of your life if they drain you too much, even if they are family. You need to understand that you are your own universe, and you are your own priority. If you do not prioritise yourself, no one will. Others do not have that responsibility over you, so let yourself breathe. For now, heal your wounds, use it as your badge of honour, and live your life as how you see fit. Remember, it is you who define who you are, not your past.
Overall energy: Strength, Nine of Wands
There's a lot of strength in you, actually, just that you have not known how to work with it right now, not sure how to turn that strength for yourself. You have been resilient in everything you do, no matter how battered up you are, so let those tension fall from you. Sit down in peace and quiet as you receive the messages from your guides, letting them guide you through this time of difficulty. Trust your feelings, they know you better than yourself. Listen to your emotions, they understand your needs better. Act on them when needed, you will know when the timing is right.
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Pile 3
One Two cards to represent you: The Tower rx, The Chariot rx
I'm… Not exactly that surprised to see two cards falling out. The Tree in this image symbolises the Tree of Life as I was doing the reading, so some of you who picked this pile may be told that you guys are knowledgeable or do possess some extensive knowledge in very specific fields. And with this knowledge comes expectations, which can be seen with two cards falling out for you. With these two cards, what I'm immediately picking on is that… You are in a phase of life that can be quite challenging right now, where things that are beyond your control are happening almost all at once, and you're losing your balance as you continue to run on the uneven paths. You're growing exhausted as you're being chased with expectations and by your own sense of duty. So, please take a break when you need it.
1. Why have things happened? - Three of Pentacles rx
There have been conflicts going on with you and your social circles, may it be disagreements between classmates/colleagues, or getting shunned by them for not going along with them. There’s a slight hint of one being an outcast here. Correlating to the cards representing you, how you became an outcast is also due to what you're going through life right now, requiring you to put a hold onto a lot of other things, including assignments and/or socialisation, etc. Your intuition has been your assistant throughout these times of perils, and it's giving me that you do know how and why you're in a situation that's making you stagnant. Not sure if you are capable of breaking that ice or you're resting at the moment before you take the first step out. Either way, unlike most people, you know where you’re standing at right now, and you do know how to make changes towards a new you if needed.
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Three of Swords
This is probably a weird way to put it, but you need to use your pain as a tool to help you get back to the present. You may be able to perceive pain differently, like… It's to prove that you're still living, that you're still alive, and you still can make changes to the situation you're in. You need to remind yourself that you're beloved, and that the Universe loves you and is throwing hints at you through very… questionable ways. Trust your inner wisdom and intuition, let them guide you to where you're supposed to be. Oddly, I'd say that you have been through something similar before, but you kinda panicked when your previous methods no longer work for this situation. This is the time where you need to find a new method that will help you develop your senses, and for you to be at peace with yourself again. Coping mechanisms, but let it help you with more than just coping.
3. What to look forward to?- The Chariot rx
I'd say that things will slow down, not because the problems are resolved, but because the tires have worn out. Your nightmare and problems have also run out of strength to go after you, which gives you a quick chance to take a small break before you retreat to somewhere safer, where you build a new coping mechanism and possibly plans for the upcoming problems. I'd also say that this is a good time for you to make new connections that will be helpful in the long run. Don't worry about burdening others, as I believe that there will be a chance for you to help them back. Friendships and connections are mutual, where both parties benefit from them.  Not sure if you’re the type who’d welcome new changes. Nevertheless, challenges will be coming your way for you to level up. I’d say that these challenges are coming in a way where you’re capable of managing it. From there, you’ll experience a new sort of rebirth, and you’ll find a new identity that works with you better. 
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - King of Pentacles
I have no idea why but I'm sensing some… Familial relationships and expected duties? Most of you may be working with establishing healthy boundaries with your family, making sure that the roles are properly and fairly distributed. It also feels like… Financial responsibilities aren't yours alone, and the entire family will need to figure out how to contribute and prepare for any emergencies.  You’re now the King, where you have a comfortable relationship with your finances, knowing that it’s yours, your property, and you have every right to access it and to use it without guilt. There may be a chance where your family or extended relatives have guilt-tripped you to sacrifice or contribute to their needs, and you’re unapologetically free from those now. You now learn to trust your intuition more and let your inner wisdom guide you through your way subconsciously. It’s now a part of your life where you don’t really need to sit and listen, as you’re driving on auto-pilot by your subconsciousness.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Sun rx
I'd say that things will start getting better at unexpected times, or even at times when you can't see hope. The Sun is unable to shine on all people, it's unable to pierce through thick walls, but it doesn't mean it's not there. The Sun here feels mellow, like it's keeping its warmth and heat in check to not burn the other living beings that it's feeding.  There’s also another message here that is assuring you that good things take time, and that you’ll need to be kind to yourself so that those blessings arrive and you’re ready to receive them wholeheartedly. The entire thing is a journey, and the roads can be bumpy. But still, what matters is the journey and you’re able to reach your final goal in a good condition, so take your time as you tread through those paths. Once you start walking and taking action, luck will fall by your side and accompany you through this journey.
6. Advice for you - Nine of Pentacles rx, Knight of Wands, Knight of Cups
You may be using your time unwisely by focusing on things that do not exactly benefit you. I’m not saying that you can’t, but you need to set your priorities straight and know what is the final goal of your actions. You may start a project that requires you to invest and purchase tools, when you’re rushing a deadline that’s gonna affect your assignment and final’s results. By doing this, you’re in a way, not planning well. Sure, you get your emotional fulfilment, but it also comes at the price of you failing your semester (touchwood). Passion projects can be fun, but you need to plan your time well, plan your resources well, plan your enthusiasm as well. The planning happens behind closed doors. Others will see how well you portray yourself and be drawn to you, but you need to remember the need for continuous effort for you to achieve the best results. The public, or people around you may gather around you because of how well you have a grip over yourself, and once things have calmed down, feel free to let yourself loose a little. People will show up around you, and it’s totally fine for you to enjoy the attention and affection. You just need to remember how much you’ve put in to build yourself, and not let others take you for granted, or to take advantage of your skills or what you have to offer.
Overall energy: Strength, Four of Wands rx
Strength and beauty comes in all forms possible, even through pain and tears. This is something that you’ll be learning to accept through this difficult time. Most of us may understand the beauty and appeal of pain, but not many can accept it. Whatever we’re going through right now makes us learn and accept it, to come to terms with it. Of course, changes come along with it and we will need to learn to adapt to it, to build a “New You” as you face the upcoming challenges. Know that whatever you’re doing right now is a pre-requirement for you to achieve your dreams. You are your own world, and you can change the world as you grace the strong wind standing your way.
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Pile 4
One card to represent you: The Devil
What I’m feeling here is that you tend to have a certain level of control over some things in your life. The control here isn’t exactly pleasant, where it may be imbalanced and there can be some arguments going on. Temptations are heard as well. You know you’re stuck in some loop where you can’t escape, and you have no intention of escaping. The picture for this pile is somehow giving me Sex and The City vibes, where the neon lights (benefits, financial resources, interests) have been the focus of your sight, and this allows you to have a different perspective, or for you to see things differently from your peers.
1. Why have things happened? - Strength rx
You have lost strength, internal strength mainly. You were not surrounded by those who supported you, and your energy was depleted bit by bit as you tried to fit in. You have put yourself in a position where you depend on the actions and feelings of others, and you may have given up on your instinctive responses, not having the self-discipline and control you need. The Lion is your passion, and it’s now your enemy, threatening to destroy whatever stability and name you’ve built. Imagine a woman trying to tame the agitated lion and the two ended up in a fight, while the spectators (wrong group of friends) by the side just watched. 
2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Swords
You’ll need to start taking care of yourself, listen to yourself. You’re a person who prides your intelligence, and you tend to be in your own head a lot. However, you’ve listened to the noises out there that have affected you in a negative way. Not to say that you’re supposed to go back into the state of being in your own headspace, but for you to pay attention to yourself more, to listen to the voices of your heart instead of the external noises. You’ve always been head>heart, and now you’ll need to go head<heart. You may not like how different this… new routine is, but you will also know that it has to be done, as you’ve been seeing messages of this “new path” around. Balancing out the heart voices and head nagging is important, and this is how you shall start.  You also need to remember you yourself, are the source of everything essentially you. You build yourself; you create yourself. You are not built on the words or acceptance of others. You need to remind yourself that you are already doing well, and the expectations of others are not yours to bear.
3. What to look forward to? - Ace of Wands
New beginnings come with changes. Once you’ve chosen a different voice to listen to, you’ll be able to regain energy, bit by bit, to attempt more changes in your life. Opportunities will surely come your way when you accept the positive energy around you, and it’s up to you to seize them and make them work. It’s a time for you to follow your instincts and have courage. Take action when you need them.  That aside, it’s suggested that you return to your roots as you venture through this bright explosion of good energy. Remember the importance of grounding yourself and go back to the basics from time to time. It’s not only to cleanse your heart, but also serves as a reminder of where you came from, and how you need to be in touch with your past and nature.
4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Six of Wands
What I’m seeing here is that you’ve put down the yearn and drive for fame and luxuries, and have redefined success for yourself. You’ve awakened from the past and start to feel more energised, learning to start your days in a better mood as you count your victories. More people are recognizing your achievements as they approach you with interest.  As you compare what you had and what you’re having now (or will be having in the future), you’ll be able to evaluate better and have a clearer idea of the direction you want to take next. You are warned of self-doubt and lack of confidence. You have to believe in your abilities and worth so people can trust you, so that you can trust and confide in yourself.
5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Eight of Wands
Eight of Wands is a card that talks about movements. Once you’re moving, once you’re taking action, that’s when you’ll see things turning out different for you. You’ll start to receive things or messages that you’ve been waiting for, and it’s time for you to stop stalling. If you’re interested in someone, you will have to walk towards them and work for it. You’ll be able to attract a loving, happy, fulfilling relationship into your life as you’re no longer the old you. Remember, birds of the same kind flock together, and the same goes with people too. You attract people of your level. You want that person who’s active and charming? Be proactive in approaching them.  Your justice will come in unexpected forms, but most of it would be releasing of past hurt. There will be times where you’ll want to hug yourself to sleep as you were reminded of how things have been difficult. This is one of the healing phases where you slowly let things go. The lighter you are, the better you become. This is also because the karma of those who’ve wronged you will not be tied to you anymore.
6. Advice for you - The Star, King of Cups rx, Nine of Cups
Rebuild yourself. This probably sounds difficult and too… idealised? But this is what you need to do. The Star is there to tell you that there’s a silver lining behind every grey cloud, that you’re not broken beyond repair, and that you’re able to work yourself up to another peak. This card is an extremely gentle card, so take that message and be gentle to yourself as well. You’ll need to practise self-compassion, listen to your inner feelings, cultivate yourself and let yourself grow into your very best self. Love others by first loving yourself, don’t forget about the promises you’ve made to yourself.  Make new and healthy connections as you flourish. If you wish for them, they’ll come into your life. Learn to be content with the gifts you’re having everyday, learn to hold gratitude with what the Earth is offering you. With the amount of Cups here, try getting close to bodies of water (beach, sea, waterfall, etc). Water may be a healing element for you. Alternatively, try doing activities that are related to creativity (crafting, writing, drawing, or something that’s symbolistic) as they can be an outlet of your heart’s wants, which you can understand better from the results of your craft. Remember to stay hydrated too.
Overall energy: Justice, Eight of Swords
Justice is really your theme right now. You’ve been choosing to run away from the obvious, but it’s high time that you wake up, pull down the blinds that have been covering your eyes and to see the truth for who he is. The first action needed for every awakening is to open your eyes and acknowledge whatever that has been going wrong. Only then you’re able to take action towards a better situation. You’ll need to open up your heart and invite new changes in, welcome new beginnings in. The theme of Justice can be difficult and painful, but it’s necessary for you as you transform bit by bit, cutting down the vines that have been tying you down, severing unhealthy ties that have been binding you down (refer to The Devil). Get back your own autonomy, treat yourself right, let justice be served on who deserves them.
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beanarie · 13 hours ago
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of course
in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat
(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)
~
Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"
Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."
"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."
"There's nothing else?"
"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."
Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.
He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.
He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.
Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"
"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"
"Was it Evan, for any of them?"
God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.
"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"
"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.
Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."
"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."
Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."
There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"
"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."
"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"
"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."
Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."
He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"
Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."
"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"
Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"
"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"
Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.
"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."
The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"
The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.
"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.
"Tommy?"
Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.
A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."
The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.
"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."
Half a millimeter.
One quarter.
Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.
"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."
Micrometer? Is that it?
Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.
"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."
Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.
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fallstaticexit · 14 hours ago
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Prev / Next / Beginning
TW: Conversion "Therapy" Mention / Homophobia
AN: Sorry this one took a while! - longer than I'd like away!. Coming back from a mini vaca and getting back into work and routine is a nightmare, also my delicate sleep schedule is ruineddd. Anywho, we should be back in business now! :) now, DJ play Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan!
Transcript under the cut
Geoffrey: Great job, bud! Tree is looking great!
Malcolm: It’s because I’m a decorator like mommy.
Jonathan: Mom, are you leaving? We’re supposed to decorate the tree too.
Nancy: Save a few ornaments for me to put on there, darling. Mommy has to step out for a couple hours.
Geoffrey: Johnny’s right, you know. Decorating it is apart of the deal.
Nancy: Can’t you spare me an hour or two?
Geoffrey: Remember what I said about being there?
Nancy: That’s not fair. I’ve been doing better, haven’t I? I left work early, which I’m hardly ever able to do and we found the tree together. I haven’t seen Vanessa in 16 years, Geoffrey. This is important to me.
Geoffrey: Yeah, well, this is pretty important to them.
Nancy: Please don’t make me feel guilty about this.
Geoffrey: It’s just you and Vanessa, right?
Nancy: [frowns] Yes, of course. I’ll be back, ok?
-
Vanessa: I’m glad you came.
Nancy: I wouldn’t have miss this for the world.
Vanessa: You look so beautiful tonight.
Nancy: [blushes] So do you. You’ve always have.
Vanessa: [smiles] I wasn’t sure on your choice of champagne, so I hope you don’t mind we have mine. I guess it’s one of the many things we’ll have to learn about each other.
Nancy: This is perfect. I’m sure I’ll love anything you like.
Nancy Narrates: [I found myself unable to eat. Instead, I got my fill of her. I studied her, consumed the sight of her with greedy, curious eyes]
Nancy Narrates: [It thrilled and frightened me the way she took me in too, as if she was trying to recall all those precious details that may have gotten lost in time. Seeing all the ways I could have changed and stayed the same]
Nancy Narrates: [One thing was for certain: my heart still raced the moment our fingers found one another, just like when we were girls. It was a delicate and familiar touch that I could feel from inside, and it was almost as if no time had passed at all]
Vanessa: [softly] Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, the woman you’ve become. I’ve thought of you, over time, what kind of woman you grew up to be.
Nancy: Is it what you expected?
Vanessa: Successful? Powerful? Stunning? Yes, I like to think so.
Nancy: I’ve thought of you too.
Vanessa: Yeah?
Nancy: I thought about what you did, after high school. Who you became. If you fell in love. If you thought about me too. Feels good, knowing you did.
Vanessa: I think holding on to the version of you I remembered kept me sane, after all this time. Do you mind if I smoke? Helps my nerves.
Nancy: As long as I can bum one.
Vanessa: Hey, do you remember our first cigarette together?
Nancy: How could I forget?
Vanessa: Share a light with me. For old times’ sake?
Vanessa: So, care to share all those burning questions you said you had for me?
Nancy: Now I feel like I’m being put on the spot.
Vanessa: Oh, come on. Don’t go shy on me now. How’s this? I’ll ask a question, then you, and so on.
Nancy: Alright. Shoot.
Vanessa: Do you still talk in your sleep?
Nancy: I- what!? I did not talk in my sleep!
Vanessa: Oh, yes you did. Full sentences too. You monologued even.
Nancy: Fuck off, I did NOT talk in my sleep! How would you know anyway? You were practically narcoleptic. I’d be up for hours after you fell asleep.
Vanessa: [murmurs] Still talks in her sleep- in denial about it. Ok. Got it. Your turn.
Nancy: I’ll ask a REAL question this time.
Vanessa: [smirks] That was a real question. I came all this way just to know but ok, ask away.
Nancy: Well, speaking of ‘all this way’. Where do you live?
Vanessa: Here and there. I don’t like to sit in one spot for too long; I get restless. Bored. I’ve spent the last 6 months in Tomorang. Beautiful people. Lovely culture. That’s actually where I heard your name mentioned for the first time. You’ve got quite the reputation over there. You’ve been up to no good, I hear.
Nancy: Christ...long story. Please don’t ask. Are you thinking of moving here?
Vanessa: Ah, ah. It’s my turn. Let’s see...ah! Who’s idea was it to make Geoffrey ‘Mr. Landgraab’. That’s probably the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.
Nancy: My parents, of course. They didn’t want to erase the family name and since they no longer have a son to continue their legacy- well. You get it. Speaking of marriage, are you married?
Vanessa: No, I’m not married.
Nancy: Well. Are you...seeing anyone?
Vanessa: [smirks] No.
Nancy: Children?
Vanessa: No children either. Those counts as a question, by the way.
Nancy: Oops. Ok, ok, you can ask two then. It’s only fair.
Vanessa: I guess I’ll ask a ‘real question’ then. Are you happy like this?
Nancy: [pauses] Like...what?
Vanessa: Married. Married to him. Does it make you happy?
Nancy: [shifts] I care for him very much. He’s the father of my children. He’s a good man and he’s good to me. Why are you asking me this-
Vanessa: Do you still like women?
Nancy: Do you?!
Vanessa: You have to answer my question first-
Nancy: Did you get my voicemail? November 2nd, 1993. I called you and I left you a voicemail. Did you hear it?
Vanessa: Nancy-
Nancy: Why didn’t you call me back? What—what happened to you, Vanessa? Where did you go? Where have you been!? Why, after all this time, am I just now seeing you?
Vanessa: It’s not really the easiest thing to talk about, but I know I owe you closure. [exhales] After I was pulled out of school, my father had me admitted. I received treatments to ‘fix’ me. Every time I fucked up and pissed off my father, he’d pack me up and ship me off until I came back normal and obedient.
Vanessa: There were days I thought I couldn’t keep going on like that, but then I heard your voicemail, and it... scared me. It made me angry. It broke my heart, but most importantly, it woke me up. I finally found the strength to escape my father and live my own truth. It cost me everything—my family disowned me. I relinquished my fortune, but in return, I’m free. I’m free, and I can live the life I deserve. I just... I wish I could have called, but life didn’t work out that way.
Nancy: It should have because I did call you, Vanessa.
Vanessa: I know.
Nancy: [weakly] I said that I loved you..
Vanessa: I know, I know...things were different for me back then.
Nancy: Things are different now! I’m married. I’m a mother!
Vanessa: I know, Nancy. I didn’t come here to break up a happy home.
Nancy: Why did you come here?
Vanessa: Can’t a girl miss her best friend?
Vanessa: Listen. I’ve thought a lot about how I would fit into your life if I ever got to see you again, if this was something you would want at all. That time we shared in our youth was the happiest I’ve ever been. I missed that feeling. I’ve missed you. I’m in a place to explore a friendship with you again, if you want it. If not, then I’ll accept that.
Nancy: I do want this. I want you here. I just...I can’t...
Vanessa: I know. It could be simple. Easy. I miss you, Nancy.
Nancy: [sighs] I miss you too. I’ve missed you so much.
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soo0hee · 1 day ago
Text
Fun Time
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Pairing — Chwe Hansol x afab!Reader
Summary — Visiting your brother you met one of his member. To bad that you liked to have a little fun... Requested by @cyd0129 , i hope you like it!
Genre — fluff
Warnings — none
Word Count — 1.1k
Rating — sfw
A/N — @tusswrites & @svtiddiess thanks for brainstorming this with me <3
Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!
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Visiting your brother at his job was always fun. Watching him turn simple melodies and beats into full fledged songs that would maybe, possibly, end up on an album of their group always gave you a sense of calmness that you rarely ever got to feel.
And while the Universe Factory was almost like a meeting point of Seventeen members, you had never gotten to meet every single one of them. It was funny almost but Woozi had always been a little mysterious when it came to his family, so neither you, nor the members who knew about you were surprised about their producer keeping this detail to himself.
And Woozi wanted to protect himself from the chaos that was doomed to happen if you and certain members of his were to ever meet eachother.
To protect his piece of mind, is what he told you once over dinner at your apartment. You had cackled at his serious expression but accepted his reasoning knowing that you indeed could be a little menace if you wanted to.
With your from your brother requester personal lanyard dangling from your neck and bubble tea in your hand you walked through the lobby of the Hybe Building. It surprised you how well recognition system worked as you remembered last times visit where you had needed almost 20 minutes and a staff members help to actually get inside.
Walking up to the elevator with your earbuds blasting music straight into your brain, you took out your phone to text your brother of your incoming arrival when you noticed the text he had send you a bit ago.
Universe Factory is empty. Am in Studio 7. Meet me there? – received 2:31 pm
For a moment your brain blanked just as the Elevator arrived with a Ding.
The Universe Factory you knew where to find, Studio 717 however you had no idea. It was a practice room, that much you knew, but when it came to the location, you were absolutely lost.
Maybe you should ask someone? One of the staffs? No, they had already stared like you had frown to heads when you walked in with your own Lanyard! There was no need for you to receive those stares a second time.
So you pressed the Button with the number 7, hoping that the first number of the studio was the indicator of the Level you had to go to.
The doors closed and you went up just to stop at the second floor.
A familiar face appeared behind the door. A face that you had seen a million times already on press pictures, photo shootings or the group selcas Woozi loved to send you every then and now.
A few that had yet to meet you however.
Vernon was one of those members that you were being hidden from, until now.
The hip hop team maknae only nodded in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the lanyard to verify that you had the right to be there.
He pushed the button to the 9th floor.
“You going to the finance department?” Vernon asked smoothly in korean.
An idea struck you that couldn’t passed up.
Fanning confusion you stared back at him and answered in perfect English with, “I’m sorry, what?”
It took Vernon a second to make the switch in language before asking again if you were going to the finance department. This time in english.
“Uhm, no. I was actually searching for the Studios… I have an appointment there.” You said without feeling bad for lying, internally groaning that your hopes of your destination being on the 7th floor had been crushed just like that.
“The Studios are on the 8th floor.” Vernon answered, eyebrow raised in suspicion.
That one you knew. But-
“And the practice rooms? I need to be in 717 to meet someone.”
Now that made the Rapper curious. 717 was their Practice room! What was a stranger like doing in their practice room?!
Admittedly, a very beautiful stranger, but a stranger none the less.
“Uhmm, I could take you? It’s where I’m headed right now! But only if you tell me what kind of business you have there.” He offered. You could clearly hear the teasing tilt in his voice.
You played along.
“I’m a new choreographer. They called me to take a look at a choreography for what I’m guessing is your group if you are headed there. Preparation for a new comeback?”
The elevators door opened on the 7th floor.
Vernon swallowed. A new choreographer meant changes to the already existing choreo and he prayed that wasn’t the case.
The elevator closed.
He hummed quietly, agreeing with the last part.
“Yeah, I’m from Seventeen. Vernon.”
“Nice to meet you Vernon. I’m y/n. Pleased to meet you.” You grinned and bit your lip to prevent laughing out loud at the dumbfound face he made.
Vernon on the other hand had trouble to keep his composure. Something about the way you smiled at him and the accent of your English had his ears heat up.
Once the Elevator opened again, he almost fled out into the hallway while you slowly followed with a snicker hidden by your head over your mouth.
“This way please!”
The member od Seventeen were known to be a magnet for chaos and this was proven again when you could hear the loud screams of who you guessed would be Seokmin and Mingyu behind the closed door.
Vernon snorted at the sounds his members made inside. Reminding him of a seal at times like this.
Like a gentleman Vernon opened the door and let you inside. There were only a few members of the group, one being your brother and almost none of the staff.
“Did someone know that we have a new chorographer?” he yelled in korean towards the guys, thinking that you weren’t able to understand him like this.
It was comical how fast all heads whipped around to stare at him.
Woozi groaned upon seeing you standing behind Vernon while grinning like a cat.
The few members who had recognized you smiled in amusement.
“Aish! Lee y/n! Did you prank him? Vernon-ah, this isn’t a choreographer. She’s my sister.” The producer sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Ah Jihoon-ah, why rat me out so fast?” you complained with a whine.
Vernon, confused and a little dazed at the turn of events had to pick his jaw up from the floor. Stammering at you with a pout. Joshua patted his back while passing him.
“I see you have met y/n.”
“She- she’s not a-“
“All she is, is a brat!” Jihoon answered and slapped the back of your head gently with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to leave.
“You’re no fun Jihoon-ah.” You called after him.
“Just come with me so we can get some food!” was the response echoing from the hallway.
You turned back to Vernon.
“It was nice to meet you, Vernon. I hope I’ll see you soon.”
With a wink and a flip of your hair you were out the door and gone.
The American slowly turned to Seokmin who didn’t bother holding back his laughter.
“And? What do you say?”
“Hyung…” the younger forced out star struck. “I think I’m in love…”
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