#i just will never get over how we are required to spend most of our waking hours in our one single life working just to survive

[kaijuno]

"No piece of art has ever emotionally affected me the way this robot arm piece has. It's programmed to try to contain the hydraulic fluid that’s constantly leaking out and required to keep itself running...if too much escapes, it will die so it's desperately trying to pull it back to continue to fight for another day. Saddest part is they gave the robot the ability to do these 'happy dances' to spectators. When the project was first launched it danced around spending most of its time interacting with the crowd since it could quickly pull back the small spillage. Many years later... (as you see it now in the video) it looks tired and hopeless as there isn't enough time to dance anymore.. It now only has enough time to try to keep itself alive as the amount of leaked hydraulic fluid became unmanageable as the spill grew over time. Living its last days in a never-ending cycle between sustaining life and simultaneously bleeding out... (Figuratively and literally as its hydraulic fluid was purposefully made to look like it's actual blood).

"The robot arm finally ran out of hydraulic fluid in 2019, slowly came to a halt and died - And I am now tearing up over a friggin robot arm 😭 It was programmed to live out this fate and no matter what it did or how hard it tried, there was no escaping it. Spectators watched as it slowly bled out until the day that it ceased to move forever. Saying that 'this resonates' doesn't even do it justice imo. Created by Sun Yuan & Peng Yu, they named the piece, 'Can't Help Myself'. What a masterpiece. What a message."

Extended interpretations: the hydraulic fluid in relation to how we kill ourselves both mentally and physically for money just in an attempt to sustain life, how the system is set up for us to fail on purpose to essentially enslave us and to steal the best years of our lives to play the game that the richest people of the world have designed. How this robs us of our happiness, passion and our inner peace. How we are slowly drowning with more responsibilities, with more expected of us, less rewarding pay-offs and less free time to enjoy ourselves with as the years go by. How there's really no escaping the system and that we were destined at birth to follow a pretty specific path that was already laid out before us. How we can give and give and give and how easily we can be forgotten after we've gone.. How we are loved and respected when we are valuable, then one day we aren't any longer and we become a burden...and how our young, free-caring spirit gets stolen from us as we get churned out of the broken system that we are trapped inside of. Can also be seen to represent the human life cycle and the fact that none of us make it out of this world alive. But also can act as a reminder to allow yourself to heal, rest and love with all of your heart. That the endless chase for 'more' isn't necessary in finding your own inner happiness.”

[cupidsworstcrime]

Aromantic!Jason Todd x Reader - life partners

sweet fluff , gets suggestive towards the end

Jason sits stiffly on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees like he’s about to confess to a murder. You can tell he’s been working up to something—he’s been weird all week. Not bad weird, just... Jason weird. Overthinking. Avoiding eye contact during quiet moments. Spending more time on rooftops than in your shared space. Now he’s finally here, fidgeting like a ticking bomb.

“I, uh… I need to tell you something,” he starts, voice low, eyes fixed on the floor.

You tilt your head, giving him your full attention.

“I’m… I’m not really—fuck, I'm not feeling 'love' with you—not with anyone,” he says, stumbling over the word like it’s broken glass in his mouth. “I thought maybe it would change, y’know? Like, that it would just happen eventually. That I’d feel it the way other people do. But I don’t. And I’ve been trying to be what you might want, and that’s not fair to you. I should’ve said something sooner. I’m so sorry.”

You blink at him, stunned not by the confession itself but by how hard he’s being on himself. You lean forward and gently bump your shoulder against his. “So… what I’m hearing is that my hot, badass vigilante boyfriend is turning into my hot, badass vigilante platonic life partner?” It's mostly a joke, but partially serious.

He lets out a startled, breathy laugh. “Wait, what?”

You grin. “Jay, I love you. However that love fits for us—romantic, platonic, whatever—I’m here. You still cuddle the hell out of me. You still listen when I ramble. You make my tea right and threaten to shoot at people who look at me wrong. That’s better than most relationships I’ve seen.”

Jason finally looks at you. Really looks at you. There’s something soft in his expression, something unguarded, like you just took a weight off his ribs. “…I’d like that a lot,” he murmurs. “Being your platonic life partner.”

You nudge his knee. “Perfect. Now come be the big spoon. It’s legally required.”

He chuckles, curling up beside you on the bed, arms wrapping around you like he never wants to let go. “Legally binding,” he mutters, and you feel his smile against your shoulder.

No hearts and flowers. Just you, him, and the kind of love that doesn’t need labels to feel real.

It’s late. You’re both in bed—lights off, blankets pulled up, Jason’s arm casually draped across your waist like always. The TV’s still playing something neither of you are really watching, just background noise to your quiet routine.

You stretch, sighing into your pillow. “Someone flirted with me at work today.”

Jason hums, not moving much except for the lazy curl of his fingers against your side. “Yeah? Were they hot?”

You snort. “Not really. And besides, once they find out it’d be the three of us in bed, it’d be a disaster.”

That gets him to move—his head lifts slightly, a lopsided smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh yeah. Can’t risk someone getting between our highly structured spooning hierarchy.”

You roll over to face him, grinning. “Exactly. They’d probably try to snuggle in the middle. Total chaos.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, forehead resting against yours. “And I refuse to give up being the big spoon. I have seniority.”

“By, like, a few months,” you tease.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve staked my claim.”

You laugh, shifting closer until your legs tangle and his hand settles comfortably on your back. There’s no heat behind it—just warmth. Familiarity. Comfort.

He whispers, “No one else gets this. Not like we do.”

You close your eyes, smiling. “Exactly.”

And just like that, the flirting coworker, the rest of the world—it all fades into the background. It’s just you and Jason. Roommates. Partners. Lifelong cuddlers.

You’re sitting on the couch, sharing a bag of chips and watching a movie that’s more noise than entertainment, when Jason gets weirdly quiet.

Not his usual quiet, the brooding because he’s overthinking the world quiet. This is different. Fidgety. He keeps adjusting his position, tapping his fingers against his thigh, like he’s trying to work up the nerve to jump off a building.

You glance over. “You good?”

He freezes, like you caught him doing something illegal. “…Yeah. I just. Uh.”

And then he pulls something out of his hoodie pocket.

It’s a ring. No box, no speech. Just a simple silver band he’s obviously been carrying around for a while. Your heart skips a beat as he shoves it toward you with the grace of a man handing over a receipt.

“It’s okay if you say no,” he blurts, eyes locked on the ring and not your face. “I know it’s not, like… a normal proposal or whatever. And it’d be different. We’re different. But I just… care about you. A lot. And I want—” He swallows. “I want to keep doing this. For the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.”

Your chest feels like it’s both melting and about to burst. You blink at him, then at the ring, then back at him.

“Jason.”

He finally looks up, and god, he looks nervous. Like he fully expects you to run out the door.

You take the ring gently from his hand, then smile—soft, warm, real.

“Of course I’ll marry you, dumbass.”

His whole body deflates with a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and the laugh that escapes him is so full of relief it’s almost a wheeze. “Seriously?”

You nod. “Seriously.”

He grins, all awkward and lopsided. “Okay. Cool. Good. Um… Do I put it on you now or…?”

You offer your hand. “Let’s try the traditional part, at least.”

The ring slips onto your finger a little crooked, his hands still shaking slightly. But it fits. It’s perfect.

So is he.

The ceremony is small—just how the two of you wanted it. A tucked-away garden, sunlight trickling through leaves, chairs filled with the people who matter most. Jason’s siblings linger near the back, trying to look casual in suits. Your friends smile with quiet joy, tissues already in hand. Roy is fanning his imaginary tears dramatically.

Jason stands across from you, dressed neat but still Jason—tie slightly crooked, hair wind-tousled, and eyes locked on you like you’re the only real thing in the world.

When it’s his turn to speak, he clears his throat, shifting awkwardly with the paper in his hand, then glances at it... and folds it up instead.

“I tried writing this down,” he begins, voice a little shaky but steadying with each word, “but nothing I wrote sounded like me. Or like us.”

A pause. You smile, encouraging.

“I used to think marriage meant… being something I’m not. That I’d have to change. That someone would want more from me than I could give.” He exhales slowly, glancing down and then back up, meeting your eyes. “But you never asked me to be anyone else. You didn’t try to fix me. You just saw me.”

He swallows hard, blinking fast.

“You’ve accepted me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve loved me in ways I didn’t think I deserved. And you let me love you back, even if it’s not the way people expect. Even if it’s not romantic or flashy.”

He reaches out, takes your hands in his.

“You’re my best friend. You’re my safe place. You’re my home. And I love you—not in the way the world writes songs about, maybe—but in the way that still means forever.”

You feel tears prick your eyes. Not from sadness. Just the overwhelming warmth of being seen, chosen, kept.

Jason smiles—soft and vulnerable and just a little crooked. “So, yeah. I’m yours. If you’ll still have me.”

You squeeze his hand, voice full of emotion when you answer.

“Always.”

The officiant smiles, voice warm as they say, “You may now kiss the spouse.”

There’s a flicker of nervous laughter in the crowd, but Jason doesn’t move at first. He just looks at you—eyes soft, shining with something deeper than anyone else could understand.

Then he steps in, close enough that the world fades around you. He touches his forehead to yours, gentle and grounding, like he’s memorizing this moment. The hush of the garden is filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing.

He pulls back just enough to press a kiss to your cheek—tender, deliberate. A vow in itself.

The crowd claps, some smiling, some tearing up. But you’re only focused on him. The warmth of his hand in yours. The quiet, certain way he smiles like this is everything he’s ever needed.

And honestly? It is.

The reception winds down with laughter and cake crumbs, the soft echo of music still buzzing in your bones. When you finally make it back to the room—your room, now shared in every way that counts—Jason closes the door behind you with a quiet click, hands in his pockets, watching you with that thoughtful, slightly awkward expression he wears when he’s got too many thoughts and not enough exits.

You’re halfway through unpinning your hair when he clears his throat.

“I, uh… I was thinking,” he starts, voice low and a little stiff, “I know this wasn’t a… traditional wedding in a lot of ways. But I still wanted to give you a proper wedding night. If you wanted.”

You blink at him, caught between touched and amused. “Jay. You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugs, a little helpless, a little sheepish. “I know. I just—hell, I don’t know, I wanted to make it special or something. Even if it’s not all... fireworks and romance.”

You smile gently, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Being with you is already special. You don’t owe me anything just because we got married.”

He looks at you for a second—longer—and then, very dryly, very Jason, mutters, “Okay, but just because I’m not in love with you doesn’t mean you didn’t get me hard walking around in that wedding fit all night.”

You burst out laughing, nearly burying your face in his chest as he smirks down at you.

“I knew you kept staring at my ass during the reception.”

“I have photographic memory. It’s a crime not to.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him in close. He’s warm. Solid. Yours.

“Guess this means we’re consummating our weird little best friend marriage?”

Jason hums, leaning in to kiss your temple. “We can take it slow. Or fast. Whatever you want. Just… wanna be close to you tonight.”

You nod, heart full, and tug him toward the bed.

“Come be close, husband.”

He groans playfully. “God, that’s so weird.”

“And yet you’re still following me.”

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, climbing in after you, “you are ridiculously hot for my platonic life partner.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Todd.”

He grins against your neck, arms curling around you like always. Maybe not the way you imagined your wedding night. But exactly the way it was meant to be.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 9

Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R

Summary: New Year, new... relationship challenges? Sharing a home isn't all fun and games.

A/N: Everyone, please don’t tell me how much you hate where this story is going just because it seems like R will cheat on Wanda. There’s more to the plot and it’s not something I’m doing just randomly, I’m spending time and effort into creating a fic that is a bit more nuanced or at least I hope it is.

Natasha is not a people person.

Which is funny, considering her profession. She’s created a system that allows her to interact with patients as little as possible, and to focus on what she understands best: the human heart.

Not as a metaphor for sentimental stuff, but as a perfect machine.

She’s out of her element now, and considering the stupid drunk that is shouting in the middle of the ER, Natasha thinks it’s better to check if you’re around later.

“Is anybody going to take a look at this?” the man raises his messed up hand, slurring his words. He approaches Natasha, and she busies herself reading a chart. “Are you going to help or not, hot stuff?”

“I don’t work here” she grumbles, deciding that she’ll have to wait for you somewhere else.

“I was hoping you could take care of me. Where are you going? I'm talking to you” he says when she turns to leave, his good hand flying to grab her by the elbow.

Natasha is ready to throw a punch, but she never feels his touch in any part of her body.

“Lay a hand on her and I will strap you to a hospital bed and give you a colonoscopy without anesthesia” you say, surprising him with your strenght. “Now, sir, sit the fuck down and someone will be with you shortly”

“I’ll handle it” Barnes, the new nurse, approaches with his signature frown. He is equally attractive and terrifying, though most of the nurses ignore the latter.

“Thank you” you smile, watching the man become quiet as Barnes grabs him by the shoulder, knowing he won’t be able to say anything stupid to him. “Hi, Nat”

“Hey, stranger” she smiles at you. “I was hoping I’d run into you here”

“Is that why you were wandering the ER? You could just text me” you smile, walking with her to the cafeteria. “My shift ended an hour ago, which is why I wasn’t the one dealing with that asshole”

“Thank you for that, you are such a gentlewoman. I am dissapointed, though. I was hoping you’d stay for our first lesson today”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it for the world”

Most of the hospital was buzzing with excitement at learning the new surgical technique that had earned Melina Romanoff a Nobel Prize. The exception was Tony, but that was only because he was convinced the Romanoffs had a secret, evil plot to take over. Even Pepper had told me to chill in front of everyone.

You sit at the front, saving a spot for Darcy and follow every word Natasha says. She’s just going over some of the theory and the process of how the research came to be, which is still very interesting to you. Medical research required patience and focus that you did not have, so you had turned your professional development to trauma, as well as search and rescue training.

“We’ll meet on Wednesday to start the first exercises” she finishes the presentation, and winks at you discreetly.

You smile, leaving the conference room, Darcy right behind you.

“What was that?”

“What? Were you expecting exercises from the get go?”

“I meant the wink. Why was she winking at you?” Darcy insists and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Friends wink at each other. I wink at you!”

“If you winked at me, I’d think you’re having a stroke” Darcy insists, and you have to roll your eyes. “It was flirty”

“Natasha knows about my relationship, we are just friends” you say, eager to finish the conversation.

“I just think there’s something fishy about this”

“You too? Stark got to you, Lewis” you mock, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, it’s all fine. I gotta get home, though, I forgot to tell Wanda I was staying longer”

“I hope she kicks your ass for that!” Darcy says as you run out of the hospital.

“Yeah, yeah”

As you drive home, you stop by the shopping street to get Wanda some flowers. You don’t think she’ll be too upset about you being late, but it never hurts to be safe.

Still, as you park in the driveway, you take a couple of minutes inside your car, looking at your old home in the rearview mirror.

Truth be told… you’re stalling. Though you love everyone inside the Maximoff house very much, you’ve had so much work these past two weeks, and it’s always a bit exhausting to get home and find the kids running around or Pietro complaining about something.

As someone who went from living alone to sharing a house with four other people full time, it was definitely overwhelming to say the least.

You take a last, deep breath and step inside the house, Pietro watching a show while the twins play in the backyard.

“You’re late” he comments.

“Work stuff” is all you say, not feeling in the mood to justify your tardiness to someone who isn’t Wanda.

But, as you enter the kitchen and your eyes meet hers, you can tell she’s also a little upset.

“Sorry, work ran long” you apologize, offering the flowers. She tries to smile and you put them down on the counter. “I really am sorry, Wands”

“No, it’s ok. I’m just behind with the book and the kids were a little difficult today… I could have used your help, that’s all”

I could have used some rest, you want to say, but that won’t help. It’s not forever, you keep thinking. Pietro will get better and move out, and things will be less crowded.

“I’ll be here all day tomorrow, I can take care of anything you need” you promise, saying goodbye to the prospect of a good nap. To keep yourself busy, you take out stuff to make a sandwich, sighing when you notice you’re out of cheese. “Like going to the grocery store, I guess”

Pietro keeps eating everything and by the time you’re home, there’s barely any food left.

“And you’re coming to the twins game on Wednesday, right?”

“Oh” you pause, scratching your neck. “I have to go to the hospital”

“Again? It seems like you’re there all week” Wanda protests.

“Well, yeah, we’re understaffed, between people being sick and others taking time off. I have to go and head the department, it’s my job, Wanda” you say, suddenly not hungry.

Nothing’s enough, you’re not good enough.

“I just… miss you. That’s all” Wanda says, and you sigh, feeling like an asshole.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s always crazy during January, plus we’re doing a new training with a doctor from Boston. Things will settle in a couple of weeks, I promise”

“Ok” she nods, smiling as you approach her, kissing her temple. “But you’ll have to make it up to me”

“I have a few ideas for that, Miss Maximoff” you smile, pulling her against you and kissing her temple. “And none of them include clothes”

“Good” she laughs, standing on her toes to kiss you.

—

You wanted to have a good day, you really did. Wanda needed some work done on her new study so you dropped off the kids and drove to the hardware store, trusting Pietro could be fine on his own for a while.

What really ruined the mood happened on the way back home.

While turning on a busy street, your mother calls and instead of pressing the ignore button, you answer.

“Fuck” you mutter and it’s too late to hang up. “Hey, mom”

Wanda perks up at that, curious about your mother. She has never even heard her voice, let alone watch you have a conversation on the phone with her. She can tell your posture stiffens.

“Hello, Y/N. I missed your call for the holidays”

“Had lots of work” you lie.

“Oh, well. Hope you liked your birthday present” the woman says in a kinder tone and you almost want to laugh.

“Yeah, thanks. Really appreciate it”

“So, I don’t have a lot of time, wanted to let you know we’re flying there next week but we’re just gonna stay for three days. I don’t think we’ll have the time to meet you. Plus, it’s just us family, you know”

“Right” you try to sound disappointed, but are actually tempted to stop the car and dance around the street. “Some other time”

“Just make sure you’re available in case we need anything. It’s the least you can do”

“Of course” you agree, looking out of the corner of your eye at the confused expression on Wanda’s face. “Have fun, say hi to everyone for me”

“Ok, you take care now”

The minute she hangs up, you let out a huge sigh of relief.

“What was that?” Wanda says, frowning.

“Which part, love?”

“Everything! Ok, first of all, the birthday present. What did she get you? I didn’t see anything delivered”

“Wanda, she doesn’t even know where I live. What happened was, someone walked by and she pretended to be nice. She’s always done it” you explain, feeling irritated. All you want is to be happy that you won’t see her, but Wanda is pushing the subject.

“And what about them coming? And not making the time to see you? Just us family? You’re her daughter!”

“Wanda, please, drop it” you plead, parking outside your home and stepping out of the car.

“Why is she like this? Why don’t you call her out on it? And I’m sorry, I just can’t understand someone being so horrible to their own child”

“Wanda!” you snap, slapping the trunk of the car. “I know, she’s horrible. I don’t care if she lies about getting me a birthday present and I don’t care enough about her to call her out for being mommy dearest. I am just so damn happy that I don’t have to be around her anymore, can we please focus on that?”

“I am just trying to understand. You never tell me anything about her” Wanda protests and you can’t believe she’s still talking about this.

“Everything there is to know, you already know, Wanda. What else would you like to learn? That sometimes I went to bed without having dinner because she thought I was getting fat? Or that when I got a summer job and was out too late she only let me sleep on the porch? What other fucking twisted things would you like to learn about that awful woman?”

“I…”

“If I say it’s complicated or I don’t want to talk about it, maybe just listen once. Here” you toss the car keys her way, not caring if she catches them or not. “I’m going for a walk”

You’d do more than walk if you were wearing different shoes and it wasn’t so damn cold. Still, you don’t make it very far, running into a black and white bunny in the middle of the street. None of your neighbors have pet rabbits, not that you can recall.

“Where did you come from?” you say, hugging the little thing and feeling relaxed as it moves its nose and settles in your arms.

“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha yells from her porch, and you turn around.

“I take it he’s yours?”

“Yes, Rio gave him to me. Señor Scratchy, what are you doing outside?” the woman says with a soft voice, taking him back. “I don’t know how he got out”

“Maybe your fence? Let’s take a look” you walk around to her backyard, pointing at an old part of her wooden fence. “Aha!”

“Oh, great. It will take forever to find someone to fix it” she grumbles. “He’ll have to stay inside for the time being”

“I can fix it. It will only take an hour or so” you say, eager to stay out of the house for a bit longer.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Agatha squeezes your cheek and then slaps it gently. “Just remember, I’m already taken, hot stuff”

“I’m just fixing your fence, Miss Harkness” you wink. “I’ll be back with the stuff we need”

Wanda seems to be in her study when you go back home. The fact that you feel relieved instead of sad for making her hide does make you a little guilty.

Truth is, you’ve never lived with anyone you had a relationship with, and neither did she. Maybe you’re both expecting things to be perfect, and it’s just not realistic. Disagreements are bound to happen when you share a home.

Right?

As you work on Agatha’s fence, you keep thinking about a way to make things work for everyone, because you’ve had a couple of fights with Wanda in the span of two days and you really don’t want to make it a habit.

“Did that fence do something to you?” Agatha interrupts you, handing over a glass of water.

“Huh?” you look up at her, taking it and nodding your thanks.

“You're nailing that wood a little too hard, hot stuff” she says, dragging a garden chair and sitting next to you. “Spill”

Saying it’s nothing won’t stop her from asking, so you keep working and tell her everything that has been going on. How the house feels too crowded sometimes, and work is kicking your ass. It takes a minute, but you admit that Wanda really upset you, questioning why you didn’t stand up to your mother.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s something I’ve always wondered myself. Why didn’t I say something instead of being weak. It struck a nerve when Wanda said it out loud”

“Did she call you weak?” Agatha says, frowning.

“No, that’s me being dramatic” you chuckle.

“Look, it’s what I told you the other day. Not everyone understands it, because most people have a semi functional relationship with their parents. And from the sound of it, Wanda’s were straight out of a sitcom”

“I guess”

“She doesn’t have to understand it. She just has to respect your boundaries” Agatha says and you nod, still thinking about everything. “Have you ever thought about going no contact with your mother?”

“Is that what you did?”

“Oh, honey, my mother’s dead. So unless I pull out a Ouija board, we’re no contact already” she cackles, which makes you laugh.

“I don’t know. If she needs something, I guess I would try to help her. If she was a bad mother, that’s on her. But I won’t be a bad daughter”

“You’re too good” Agatha pats your back, and you smile at her.

“Alright, well, your fence is fixed. Can we call it even with the therapy session you just gave me?” you stand up, making sure everything’s in its place.

“Nu-uh, you owe me” Agatha jokes, taking the bunny out to the backyard. “You’ll be fine. Tú puedes”

“Duolingo?”

“Rio’s been teaching me Spanish. The other stuff I can’t say it to you because it’s dirty and for her ears only” the brunette winks, which makes you blush. “Bye, Y/N”

“Bye, Agatha” you roll your eyes at her antics, feeling better as you walk back home.

You figure it’s better to start working on what Wanda needs, so you carry the stuff upstairs and knock before entering the guest room turned into a study.

“Hey” you say, as Wanda looks out the window instead of working.

“Hi”

“I’ll fix the lights and then adjust your desk, or do you need to work now?” you ask, unsure if she’s also upset at you.

“No, that’s fine. It’s not even important, you should rest, work has been crazy for you” she finally turns, and you can tell she’s trying hard not to cry.

“Hey… come here” you step closer, pulling her into a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really sorry for pushing the subject. I can’t imagine someone being so awful to you, and I made you… I should have kept it to myself”

“It’s… yeah. It wasn’t nice and I really don’t like to look back at everything that happened. But I know you didn’t mean any harm, ok? I love you, baby” you kiss her temple, feeling her relax in your arms. “Why don’t you go check on your brother? He’s been too quiet, which can only mean he’s getting into some sort of trouble”

“Or buying more stuff from Amazon. We barely fit here” Wanda grumbles and you laugh, kissing her. “I’m sorry”

“I know. You’ll make it up to me in bed” you joke, which makes her laugh.

“Maybe now that he’s busy…”

In that precise moment, her brother decides to call for Wanda.

“Go” you kiss Wanda again, wishing you had more time just with her.

—

Natasha’s not excited about the day ahead, the only silver lining being that she gets to see you. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. She’s flirting and constantly eyeing you, but nothing’s gonna happen.

Not on a lack of desire on her part. It’s pretty obvious you’re not the type of person who cheats. Pretty ironic, she finally meets a decent woman and you’re already taken.

What does that girlfriend of yours have that she doesn’t? Aside from two kids that adore you. Is the whole housewife thing really that appealing to someone like you?

As she enters the room for the next lesson, Natasha notices you’re sitting a few rows behind. That’s a little disappointing. Still, your eyes follow her every move and she feels a little surge of pride at that.

If only you were single, Natasha might get you to roleplay that teacher-student fantasy she’s had.

Still, as she finishes her explanation, you walk up to her, smiling.

“That was brilliant, Natasha” a brunette doctor walks behind you, and you reach out to stop her. “Hey, come meet Doctor Romanoff, Darcy”

“Pleased to meet you. We’re loving the lessons” she says, not wanting to make small talk. “Y/N, come on. I’m starving”

“Oh, I was thinking we could go out for a bite if you’d like?” you turn to Natasha, smiling.

“I’ve got surgery in half an hour” Darcy says, glaring at you.

“Nat?” you turn to the woman, smiling. “Bishop can take care of the ER for me”

“Yeah, I’d love to” Natasha says, kicking herself over how fast she agrees to doing anything you ask.

“Awesome, I know this great place” you begin saying, but she gets a phone call. Natasha looks at you apologetically, but you smile, while Darcy is pulling at your sleeve and giving her a strange look.

“I’ll only take a moment” Natasha promises.

“Yeah, that’s fine”

“A word, Y/N?” Darcy finally gets your attention back and you frown.

Natasha doesn’t care much about the new doctor, unless she’s also fighting for your attention. She finds an empty room to take the call, shutting the door behind her.

“What is it, mother?”

“How’s the second lesson?”

“Fine. Do you keep a timer on your desk?”

“I just like to know if the study plan I designed is working, Natalia. That way, when we move to the next one, it can be more efficient until we manage a global, scalable solution”

“We? I’m only doing this here and then I’m going back to my research, you agreed” Natasha reminds her, blood boiling.

“This is your legacy too”

“Then how come I wasn’t up there getting the Nobel with you?”

“Natalia, those are insignificant things compared to what we can acheive” Melina scoffs.

“I’m not going to spend another month in a different hospital just because you’re too paranoid about someone stealing your research”

“Fine, then get me a new Head of Trauma for Boston and we’ll consider it even” Melina says. “You know Yelena wants to focus on that, she needs someone who can teach her”

“There are tons of applicants. Choose one from the pile in your desk, Mother” Natasha sighs, knowing where this is going.

“What about that doctor you told me about? You sounded so enamoured last time”

“She wouldn’t move to another city, her girlfriend’s here” Natasha says.

“Girlfriends aren’t wives. Well, even spouses can get divorced. Maybe she just needs to hear the right offer” Melina insists.

“Mother…”

“You’re not resuming your research until you find a new Head of Trauma. That’s final, Natalia” the woman loses her cool, hanging up on her daughter.

Natasha feels so stupid, of course this would happen. Melina never cared about anything other than herself and her accomplishments.

“Fuck” the woman says, kicking one of the chairs. You walk inside that precise moment, jumping at the outburst.

“You ok?” you say, locking the door.

“Yeah. It’s nothing”

You let out a sigh, sitting next to her in the bed of the on call room.

“We can skip lunch if you’re not hungry”

“It’s not that. I mean, I’m not hungry anymore, my mother just pissed me off” Natasha shakes her head, trying to calm her racing heart.

“You got one of those too, huh?” you chuckle. “I’m sorry, Nat, honestly. It’s the worse feeling in the world. Someone who should support you trying to bring you down, and then no one believing you because there’s this collective denial that mothers can be bad people”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. To everyone else she’s a genius. To me, she’s the woman who’s always reminding me how ordinary I am compared to her” Natasha fiddles with her hands, not used to being vulnerable. Not with someone who understands her so well.

“You’re not ordinary, Natasha” you say with so much conviction that the redhead looks up, eyes meeting yours. “And if your mother thinks that, I’m sorry to say that she’s not as smart as I thought”

Natasha laughs, blushing a little at the compliment. You nudge her with your elbow, standing up.

“Want some coffee instead? If you’re not hungry anymore” you place your hand in the doorknob, checking if she’s ready to step out.

“Yeah, sure”

As you nod and open the door, Natasha stands up, reaching for your wrist.

“I… thank you. You’re too kind to me” she says in a low voice.

“I guess I know how isolating it can be. If you ever want to talk, I’m here” you squeeze her arm in return, smiling at her.

Natasha is about to say something else, something probably really stupid, when a voice calls behind you.

“Detka, there you are”

“Wanda? Hi, what are you doing here?” you step out of the room now, looking at your girlfriend. Wanda, however, is focused on the very attractive redhead that follows behind you, noticing you were alone seconds ago

“Am I interrupting something?” she says, eyes not leaving Natasha’s figure.

“What? No, this is Nat… eh, doctor Romanoff. She’s the doctor from Boston who is giving us the course” you explain, looking between both women. Natasha is the first one to give up the staring contest, extending her hand to Wanda.

“Nice to meet you. Y/N has told me so much about you and your boys”

“I’m happy to hear that”

Happy that you know she’s taken.

“So, uh… what are you doing here?” you ask, still thrown off by Wanda’s presence. Ever since Pietro was discharged, she has never been back to the hospital. If you recall correctly, she said she had enough of hospitals for a lifetime.

“I need to talk to you for a second. Alone”

“I’ll meet you in a second” you smile as Natasha walks back to the conference room and she nods. When you turn to Wanda she has a strange look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You never told me she was this pretty”

“Who?”

“Natasha”

“I didn’t notice” you mumble, scratching your neck. “And anyways, that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

“Right. I just… I wanted to apologize again for yesterday. And make sure we’re ok. I know these past few weeks have been hard. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to come over and see you”

“Hey, we’re ok” you promise, pulling her by the waist. “I love you, you love me and we have a pretty nice family, don’t we? Even with stinky Pietro”

“I’m trying to convince him to shower daily” she laughs against your lips. It’s pretty clear that he was clean during his hospital days because he got sponge baths.

“It’s either that or hosing him down in the backyard”

“I’d like to see that” your girlfriend laughs and you take her hand, bringing it to your lips. “I’ll let you get back to work”

“Ok, if I can I’ll leave early” you kiss her cheek, squeezing her waist until you’re hand goes dangerously lower. “And maybe we can have some makeup sex”

“Mmhm you’d like that wouldn’t you” Wanda slaps your shoulder. “Go”

But as you wave goodbye and walk up to meet Natasha, Wanda doesn’t miss the look on the redhead's eyes.

She knows it, because it’s the same way Wanda looks at you. And that’s all it takes for her to decide, she doesn’t like the other woman.

—

It’s not as late as you thought, because when you get home everyone’s finishing dinner.

“She lives” Pietro says when you walk in.

“He bathes” you say, noticing his wet hair. “Did Wanda tell you I was going to hose you down?”

He doesn’t get to reply, because the kids jump in your arms.

“My stinky minions! Did you win the game today?”

“No, you have to come to the next one. You’re our lucky charm” Billy says.

“Pinky promise, I will come to the next one” you nod, moving to kiss Wanda. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Moya lyubov” she says and you smile, always loving that accent. “Come have dinner while the kids shower”

“Can you read us a story when you finish?” Tommy asks.

“Of course. Now go with Mom, I’ll be there as soon as I’m done”

The kids cheer as you get a plate and serve some delicious lasagna. Now you really don’t regret coming home early.

“Alright, I’m calling it a night. I’m exhausted” Pietro says.

“From showering?” you joke, but he fake laughs as he pushes his wheelchair away. “Leave your plate, I’ll clean it up”

“Thanks, sestra”

As you eat, you remember to send a text to Natasha, asking if she wants to have lunch with you tomorrow before she heads back to Boston for the rest of the week.

The kids are ready for bed and you walk upstairs, sitting between their beds and reading Dragon Feathers, which was your father’s favorite bedtime story to tell. Billy and Tommy laugh as you make different voices, the way your dad did when he told you the tale.

As soon as you’re done, they settle in bed, and Wanda’s the one who tucks them in, joining you at the door.

“I missed this” you say against her temple.

“I missed you” she agrees, leaning against your side. “Come to my study, I want to show you the drawings I made for the book”

The new working space was starting to grow on Wanda. Even if it was smaller, she had enough room to fit everything she needed, and her view was much better from the second floor.

You admire the sketches she hands you, looking at every detail and stroke of her pencil.

“Could I see you work one day? I don’t think I’ve ever done that, baby” you say, in awe of her talent.

“I don’t know, I might get too nervous”

“Please?” you pout, hoping that will change her mind. Wanda rolls her eyes and leans forward, standing on the tip of her toes to kiss you. Her movements turn more frantic and she catches you off guard when she pushes you against the small sofa, straddling your lap.

“Tell me more about her”

“About who?” you say, completely lost in the way her shirt strains against her breasts.

“That new doctor”

“Natasha?” you blink, trying to form a coherent thought. “Why?”

“Because. You’re working a lot, and apparently it’s next to a very beautiful woman whose name I hadn’t heard up until I saw you walking out of a room together”

“We were just talking” you mumble, more focused on undoing the buttons on Wanda’s shirt. She takes your wrists and pulls them away, forcing you to look up.

“I hope she knows your girlfriend is incredibly possesive and jealous” she whispers against your lips. “Or I might have to remind you who you belong to”

“I haven’t forgotten” you promise, looking at her lips intently.

“Then show me” Wanda says, her nails digging in your scalp. Whatever you were about to say dies in your lips as she kisses you, biting your lip and making you forget your name. You open your mouth, allowing her to explore it with her tongue and you carry her to the desk, pushing away everything so she can sit on it.

Wasting no time, Wanda holds her hips up so you can pull down her pants and underwear, and you kneel, moaning against her center when you begin to eat her out, desperate for her taste.

It feels like forever since you’ve had the chance to worship her body.

“That’s it” she moans as you bite the inside of her thigh, pleased with the way her legs close around your head. “I’m gonna…”

“Hold it”

“No, please”

“Did I fucking stutter? God, you are so impatient” you say, squeezing her throat as you move up, sliding two fingers inside her wet cunt. “Why can’t you just let me fuck you?”

“Oh, God” she says, getting wetter at your words.

“I think you’re the one who’s forgetting her place, baby” you say, hitting her G spot over and over until she can’t speak.

“Fuck” Wanda sighs, biting your neck as she finally gets her release. You kiss her, muffling her moans until her breathing evens out. “I missed that”

“Mhm” you smile, letting Wanda taste herself in your lips. “Come on. Let’s go to bed”

As you get changed and clean up, your phone pings several times.

“Work?” Wanda asks, but you’re smiling as you type.

“Huh? No, not work” is all you say, getting in bed and kissing Wanda. “Night, baby”

“Goodnight” she says, watching the screen of your phone light up again. You don’t notice because you’re already asleep, exhausted.

Wanda has to resist the urge to look at the text you just got.

You’ve never given her a reason to doubt you.

And yet, as she goes to bed, looking at your sleeping shape, Wanda can’t help but feel, there’s a part of you that’s not being honest.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Hi, Tori (*^-^*)

I hope I'm not too late with requests, but I have a few ideas.

First, how about mistletoe kiss? A bit cheesy and cliché, but I think it would be great for holiday season rn.

Second, how about learning y/n to fly on the broom? Like we know that our boys are badasses and play quidditch really good. So maybe they want to show off their skills and teach the reader how to fly, or overcome the fear of heights, or just have a lovely moment with them under the stars, something like that.

Third, magical bond thing. Like a reader or one of our favorite boys open the box with some dark artifact and make them stuck together. It could be enemies to lovers to add some juices ��

I think that's all. Otherwise, I'd dash out a whole bunch of my ideas. As for who should it be with, I don't know. It's totally up to you. But I'm a huge simp for Mattheo *cough, cough*.

If you would like to write something based on any of these ideas, I'd be happy. If not, it's still cool. I will just wait for your other great writings from the other's asks.

Loves 💕

I kinda chose the second one. I hope this works for you.

Vows

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: lots of cussing and some mentions of violence and hexing

Last thing you wanted to do was spend your time in detention with the boy who annoys you the most-Mattheo Riddle. You two hated each other, always bickered, always had competitions, always had nasty remarks to say to one another. Sure, you might find him handsome if it wasn't for his asshole personality. He has nice hair and a nice face and all, but, Merlin, every word out of his mouth wanted you to either jam knives in your ears or hex his mouth closed.

You don't even remember how this rivalry started. But it's been going on for as long as you've known him. Everyone knew that. Everyone either dreaded or loved having class with you two because of the fighting.

But maybe it went a little too far when you threw a hex his way that was supposed to swell his tongue to the point he couldn't talk properly. Unfortunately, he saw it and deflected it, only for it to hit poor Neville behind him.

So now the two of you were cleaning in the Room of Requirements. It was massive and was never going to get done, even if you spent a whole year cleaning it, but that wasn't the point. It was supposed to be a little lesson for you two, a punishment. So you got assigned a section and were supposed to clean together. ‘Figure out how to work together’ or something like that McGonagall told you two.

“This is entirely your fault.” Mattheo grumbled as soon as the Professor was gone.

“You wouldn't have been sent here with me if you just took the hex like a man instead of blocking it.” You retorted before looking around the section you were assigned, hands on your hips.

“I'm not that fucking dumb, sweetheart. I'm not letting you hex me. I think Longbottom is still in the hospital wing because of your nasty hex.” He complained, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, sit there and bitch all you want. I'm getting this done, with or without you.” You said, walking over towards one of the piles of random things and began cleaning and sorting it out.

“Then you can do it without me.” He huffed, walking away.

You just rolled your eyes, annoyed with his attitude. You could hear him going through stuff just out of sight from where you were. You could guess he was rummaging through the random things, opening up boxes and fiddling with stuff to figure out what it did.

It was only about ten minutes before you heard him yell. “Fuck! Son of a bitch!”

It sounded like he either got hurt or stuck on something and it made you snort. Serves him right.

He came around the corner, back over to you. “Help me get this off!”

“Why should I?” You turn to look at him and see something wrapped around his wrist. It looked metal and had some carvings on it.

“Just get this thing off of me! Please!” He nearly snapped, but you could hear the small bit of panic in his voice. It was a fair reaction. No one knew what any of this stuff was or what it could do.

“Fine. Only because you said ‘please’.” You said with a slight teasing tone in your voice.

He rolled his eyes but looked a little relieved.

You reached for the contraption around his wrist, going to tug on the material to test it. But as soon as you touched it, a chain materialized from it and wrapped around your wrist as well, replicating the metal bracelet around Mattheos's wrist with the same carvings.

“What the fuck?” You used your other hand to tug at the new restraint around your wrist. It wouldn't even budge.

“Well, that didn't work.” Was all Mattheo had to say.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” You yelled, trying to fight at the metal.

“I didn't do anything!” He yelled back.

“Why did you have to go through shit instead of helping me?”

“You said you would do it with or without me!”

“And look where we are now!” You both continued yelling, just angry at each other. You sighed, bringing your free hand to your face, rubbing it in annoyance. “Okay, just-we're not getting anywhere.” 

“I thought you were smart! Get us out!”

“I'm thinking!” You inspected the cuffs, looking at the carvings. They were words. “Fides, amor, matrimonium.” You muttered aloud. “Ah, fuck. You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

“Fides, amor, matrimonium? What the fuck? Is that talking about marriage and love?” Mattheo started yelling again. The chain connecting the two cuffs started disappearing after he repeated the words that were carved into the cuffs. The metal parts around your wrists were still there.

“You fucking idiot! Do you have any idea what you just did?” You shouted at him, shoving him backwards.

“Obviously not!” He shouted back, catching himself on a random box and straightening back up.

“Those were marital vow chains!” You said like it was obvious and that's when Mattheo's face went pale. You'd heard of them, most people had, they were a very ancient tradition. The people getting married would wear them and repeat the words carved into the cuffs, just like you and Mattheo did, vowing your love and loyalty to one another. If the vow is broken, both people die. They were outlawed a long time ago to prevent any more deaths.

“Oh, fuck.” Mattheo muttered, obviously panicking again but for a whole different reason this time.

“I swear to fuck, Mattheo-if we die because of this, I'm gonna kill you!”

“I didn't mean to fucking marry you!”

“Well, you did! And you can't take it back! We'll both die!”

“Ah, fuck.”

“‘Ah, fuck.’ Indeed. Now what?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I-I-I don't-I don't-I don't know.” He stuttered, utterly in shock.

“This was just supposed to be a normal fucking detention!” You started pacing, so mad and upset that you couldn't even sit still.

“I'm sorry!”

“That doesn't fix this!”

“Fucking shit. We're married.”

“Yeah!”

“Holy fuck!”

“This is your fault, Mattheo!”

“Shit!” By now, he was pacing just as bad as you.

“I'm gonna fucking kill you. You just ruined our lives.”

“It was an accident!”

You finally stopped pacing and faced him and he mimicked you, stopping and facing you too. “You're gonna have to be the best husband in the world or I'm taking us both out. Do you understand me, Mattheo?”

“Yes.” He said and his face looked just like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't have.

“I-” You started but stopped just as fast. “Un-fucking-believable.” You turned around, trying to stop yourself from hitting him.

“You know, though…” Mattheo started stepping towards you slowly. “Since we're married, maybe we should kiss. Like an actual wedding. Since I'm your husband now.”

“Mattheo?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up and walk away before I punch you in the face.” You said, not even turning around to face him.

“Got it. Too soon.” He said before you could hear his footsteps retreating.

Fuck, what were you going to tell your parents?

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff @leandre2006

@yours-truly-5 @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@delulugirl2000 @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15

@jolly4holly @st0n3dbarbi3 @kurumbukaari @whydoireadanymore @sweet-afternoon

@ilovehpb0ys @satosugu4-ever @mattiesgirl @ur-local-wizard

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@hereticdance @cindyss @saint-marvel

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@roseofsharron438 @abeoavita @rafesba @ter-luer @cminoko

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I think it's interesting that the shows problem of "marinette can and will do everything herself unless we decide to f her over" is clear pretty early, but esp in Reflekdoll back in s3... hell it worsened the problem of "cn is kind of a useless teammate" by making him start the ep interfering w lb and spending the rest of it actively struggling.

From what I understand when most shows do some form of "role swap" where the characters were previously dissing each other's roles, both characters in the swap are shown to struggle.

Reflekdoll, on rewatch, doesn't do that. Except I can't really think of a clear way to make Marinette struggle with the role of CN unless it's in her struggling to step back and let others do the work, which she can't do in the context of that episode since she spends all of it making sure Adrien doesn't F Up.

So if we redid reflekdoll to be a swap with a struggle on both sides, how could it be done?

Trope Overview

The power-swap trope is all about learning to appreciate someone else's point of view. That can include the struggles they face, but that's not a requirement. One of the best power swap episodes out there is the Teen Titans episode Switched in which the characters Starfire and Raven switch bodies. This is a problem because Starfire's powers are all about feeling and embracing emotions while Raven's powers are all about controlling and repressing emotions as you can see from this clip that takes place right after the switch:

There is no failed fight to kick this episode off. The girls already fought well together. They don't need to understand each other's powers to be functional teammates. Understanding each other's powers just lets them be better friends and lets the audience get a deeper understanding of the two characters which is exactly what this trope is supposed to do.

Miraculous

Unlike Teen Titans, Miraculous failed the role-switch trope assignment. Adrien kind of learns a lesson in Reflekdoll, but it doesn't change his behavior in other episodes so it's hard to say that this moment of awareness did anything useful for his character. There's also the problem that Marinette learns nothing as we can see here:

Mister Bug: (looks around, trying to figure out how to use his Lucky Charm) Okay, I admit it. It's not easy being a super Ladybug. Lady Noire: (keeping Reflekdoll occupied) And I admit that I like wearing your costume. It's a lot lighter on the shoulders. (They hide behind a chimney)

And here:

Mister Bug: Honestly, I understand why you never have any time to make jokes, m'lady. Lady Noire: We both have our roles, huh Bugaboy? (They jump into separate alleyways.)

This highlights the exact issue anon brought up in their ask: if Adrien continues to joke around and be dismissive of how rough Ladybug has it, then what was the point of all this? if Marinette has nothing to learn, then does Chat Noir even matter? And is there a way to fix this episode to remove those issues?

To be frank, a true fix requires massive rewrites to the entire show because this episode is highlighting an actual issue with the writing. Chat Noir has not been given a clear or important role and he often doesn't take fights seriously enough as we once again see just five episodes later in Oblivio when Chat Noir's flirting and laidback attitude get them hit by the day's akuma:

Nadja:(from a helicopter) Looks like Ladybug and Cat Noir are struggling today. (Ladybug is rapidly spinning her yo-yo to deflect Oblivio's blasts while Cat Noir sits down casually.) Ladybug: And stop calling us a couple!

This means that there's not great option for what Ladybug needs to learn from Chat Noir. The best small change I can come up with is to have her struggle to fight Reflekdoll solo, helping her apricate her partner's fighting and distraction skills. That's no where near the level of lesson Adrien is learning since Ladybug already apricates those skills, but at least it's something.

You could also go the route of having her learn to have more fun, but that's not a great lesson for a superhero charged with defending the city. The fun lesson that would have actual depth is a body switch one where Marinette learns Chat Noir's identity and sees Adrien's life first hand, helping her understand why Chat Noir is so big on having fun. It wouldn't make his actions okay, but it could lead Marinette to better understand his needs so they take time to have fun out of battle. He becomes more serious in fights and she becomes more fun out of them. But then we have identity reveals and canon won't allow that so, while this is the best fix for canon as-is, it's not really one that canon could actually do.

While were on the topic, I'll note that there actually is a fix-it fic for Reflekdoll over on AO3 that you might enjoy. It stays pretty true to the episode, but does a better job of actually letting Adrien learn his lesson while also letting Marinette acknowledge her faults in the episode because she wasn't exactly perfect here. I don't think it solves the issues we were talking about above, but I do think this is probably the best canon could have done without major rewrites and/or an identity reveal.

In an ideal world where the show is fully rebooted and our leads both feel like vital parts of the team, this episode probably would have been something similar to the Teen Titans episode I discussed above. Ladybug and Chat Noir already canonically respect each other's skills, so it's hard to see the need for a lesson around that topic. It would be far more interesting to have an episode on Creation vs Destruction where we learn why Adrien is the best black cat and why Marinette is the best ladybug. An episode where Adrien can't figure out the lucky charm and where Marinette can't control cataclysms because it requires skills that she doesn't have like strong self control and focus. (No, Adrien doesn't really have those in canon, but they are the traits that should define a Destruction wielder. I will die on that hill.)

This new version of the episode wouldn't be about resolving a conflict so much as it would be about helping these two - and the audience - appreciate how they're the only ones who can do what they do.

[ronearoundblindly]

Idk if you’ve done this before but how about assigning the cevans character to their love language?

Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Giving/Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, and Physical Touch (and/or any you can think of)

I’m curious for your takes on who loves what 😆💕

I'm going to split this into how they give and how they receive love--which I'd like to mention are not the only ways each does, but we'll limit it to the most predominant.

*Oh dammmmmn, this was kinda difficult to narrow down but I hope I explain myself well...

No warnings. Just fun and feels!

Ari Levinson

Gives: Acts of Service

Ari feeds off the idea that being with him makes your life easier not harder; in fact, that is extremely important to him, so he prides himself on doing small (and big) things to help you out as often as he can.

Receives: Quality Time

He's a fast-paced dude who loves to do stuff: lots of excursions and new experiences, lots of hanging out with various friends he knows from a bunch of countries and very different times in his life. Being quiet, calm, and close to you is a blessing to him, something he appreciates down in his soul.

Andy Barber

Gives: Physical Touch

His job is very intense and garners him mild (if not vicious) hate. He craves closeness and is usually a little desperate to hold you after his workday. His go-to move is a hug from behind while you pour two glasses of wine, and he needs you snuggled up to him to fall asleep.

Receives: Words of Affirmation

Obviously from that description, we know touch is high on how Andy also feels love from a partner, but the top one is actually getting praised and reassured. He chose to have a career that pays well, yes, but it also requires the majority of his time and energy. Andy's heart soars when you tell him he's doing well and making you happy, when he hears you say you think his efforts are worth it.

Jake Jensen

Gives: Gifts

Tchotchke and knickknacks beyond your wildest dreams! Jake thinks about you all the time. He usually picks up small trinkets from everywhere so he can tell you the story of where they came from and what he was doing.

Receives: Physical Touch

If one of you so much as tries to argue with me on this, you will be blocked lol. You know our twitchy, touch-starved nerd is so desperate to be loved on that he absolutely requires it when you get to be together. Jake will also accept being told how much you want to touch him, via text, voicemail, or video chat, the more graphic the better...

Steve Rogers

Gives: Quality Time

Um, another 'duh' one. Steve never gets TIME, so of course he'll spend any and all that he can with you!

Receives: Gifts

Wild card for his second half though: Steve was very poor as a kid, and he was never much better as an adult--big or small. Living frugally is just...standard practice for him. However, he's a sucker for meaningful presents just for him. Secret hoarder, here, when the gifts are from people he cares about.

Bucky Barnes

Gives: Acts of Service

Bit of a two-birds-one-stone situation, but it's very important that Bucky choose what he does and who he does it for now, bonus points for it being a kind gesture for a loved one, perfect points if it's for you. I have this idea that he would actually bend over backwards to do something for you that used his abilities in a non-violent way, so you want every piece of your furniture rearranged for fung shui? Let him do it, please. And again the next month? Don't threaten him with a good time now! He's in.

Receives: Quality Time

In that same vein, someone else choosing to spend their precious time with him is more valuable than gold. He will never take a moment of it for granted. Nope. He's so grateful.

Lloyd Hansen

Gives: Words of Affirmation

If Lloyd truly, actually, really likes someone, he will say nice things to them. Not gonna lie, makes me tingle a little bit to think of this man getting to that point with anyone because it still probably sounds so damn dangerous even if he's telling you he loves you and you're perfect.

Receives: Gifts

Specifically, he only feels loved if the gifts are good and stuff he'd want or like. (Joke gifts are fun, but Lloyd just rolls his eyes at those. He find some meaning in well-thought out presents.)

Ransom Drysdale

Gives: Quality Time

The 'tell' for Ran falling in love is that he will voluntarily do stuff you like. This counts for quality time, sure, but it's all the more meaningful that he will make an effort to experience those things with you.

Receives: Words of Affirmation

Another unsurprising one, but since he did not hear very many genuinely nice things about himself growing up--aside from the fact he was a piece of crap and bully anyway,--Ransom melts like butter on hot toast.

Jimmy Dobyne

Gives: Acts of Service

Very busy, very tired, very passive when caring for himself. Jimmy will summon up energy he doesn't have to do at least one small thing for you everyday. He'll warm up your towel in the dryer while you're in the bath. He'll do the 'handwash only' dishes before you two watch some TV. He'll pick a couple of wildflowers from the back yard to put in a vase on the table for breakfast. It may not be much--he's does big things when he can but mostly it's the little things--but Jimmy is devoted to being worthy of you.

Receives: Words of Affirmation

His dad's a drunk has-been and his mother is mentally unstable; Jimmy hasn't ever had a lot of emotional support at home. Being open, encouraging him, and reassuring him all serve to bond you two closer than any blood family he knows.

James Mace

Gives: Quality Time

After all those stints training and in space, Mace will gladly be glued to you whenever he can be. The trick is that anything is quality time when he's paying attention to you, even grocery shopping.

Receives: Acts of Service

He is perfectly capable of being a self-sufficient man, no question, but there is something almost unspeakably caring about you doing something for him. The idea that anyone would help him with laundry on a terrible and packed week? Crazy. That you would water his lone plant while he's away? Shocking. You, knowingly setting up a substitute bed on the floor that's similar to his ship cot just so he can transition to sleeping for real again? Mace might cry, but you can be damn sure he'll make it comfortable enough for you to snuggle there with him.

Curtis Everett

Gives and Receives: Physical Touch

The only one on the list who has the same language for both categories, but it's not for reasons of deprivation. He's actually used to being very close and crammed with a lot of people; the difference with you is that he is purposeful in keeping you close to him and in sheer bliss when you stay connected to him even by a finger's tip.

Johnny Storm

Gives: Words of Affirmation

Johnny's are interesting because they are both things he gives to and gets from everyone to a degree, yet he does not mean them sincerely or with the same intensity to anyone but you. He's always personable, and though some of jokes might seem a little cruel or cutting, Johnny caters to getting a rise of reaction out of everybody. He doesn't necessarily care about kindness; he's looking to be memorable.

With you, however, aside from the occasional quip, never mean-spirited (but he'll outright fight if yo two a're fighting), Johnny likes to be sweet and praise you every opportunity he has.

Receives: Gifts

Again, he gets stuff all the time. He gets endorsement goodies and swag, stuff to promote. He gets gifts from hundreds of people he doesn't know for every holiday. The fan mail is a little crazy. Johnny will ploy through a crowd of people to grab his gift from you: at his birthday, at Christmas, any time at all. He appreciates that your gifts just have to do with him and not his 'persona,' all the interests he's had since he was a boy, or just a trainee, or just a NASA washout. He likes getting thoughtful but deliberately average presents, like a keychain from a band he likes or a t-shirt from each vacation.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[nushkiespeaks]

I never knew romanticizing DEPRESSION and being SUICIDAL can be considered cool, because-

LOWKEY PEOPLE PORTRAY ARJUN AS DEPRESSED AND SUICIDAL AND TAG IT AS HUMOR!

I don't know how did everyone arrive to this conclusion that Arjun suffers from depression, questioning self-worth and lowkey suicidal. 

Tell me honestly, did you ever think this man, who bows down in front of Krishna during Geeta gyaan with a charismatic presence, ever to be suicidal?!

No right?

Basically that was our childhood, and as we grew up, we stopped reading and BELIEVING the texts :)

Either we go with the flow of what others say, or just skim through the texts without understanding anything, or just cherry pick verses that suite their narratives. 

Well, that has resulted into a characterization of Arjun who is like, suffering from mental health problems and so on-

If someone has read the entire Mahabharat, he knows that Arjun is not the way he is thought to be; specially HE IS NOT DEPRESSED OR SUICIDAL anywhere! 

Arjun was anything but pretentious of his FEELINGS and it is clearly visible once you read the texts carefully! 

I don't know why you guys tend to confuse moral retainment with depression, O God!

Just because Arjun analyzed before reacting, or took time to analyze what would've happened, you tend to call him depressed, like really?

In fact, he was the one who was the most stable Pandav after the Dyut incident! He is the one who consoles Bheem and Yudhishthir mostly! Tell me, if a person is suicidal, can he do that? NEVER!

Now some intellectuals will come and bark how Arjun used to hide his depression and pretend he was okay....

*laughs like a hyena* Guys, if Arjun had 'pretended' to be okay, then you wouldn't have that huge Geeta gyaan popping up in Mahabharat where Arjun literally pours himself out like a tsunami in front of Krishna. And this man 'pretended' to be okay....*smh*.

And if Arjun was genuinely depressed, he wouldn't have been able to shoot such intellectual questions to Krishna during Geeta, nor absorb it with his full potential! Removing doubts from mind is not same as DEPRESSION guys! 

This guy does penance for years, handles Bheem during Dyut rightfully, is the one who instilled faith among his brothers after Dyut, does penance again for five years, stays in HEAVEN and kills Nivatakavachas, stays one year as Brihannala and fights Kauravas single-handedly, mind it and also steals clothes for Uttaraa---and the audacity to label such a lively guy as DEPRESSED.

This guy has a friend circle dude, friend circle! He relaxes, sipping a bit of wine and gossips with Krishna casually and laughing! 

You call this guy depressed?

He ventures out in picnics the most! Takes his wives, also accompanies Krishna for his marriages, and you call this guy depressed? 

DO you guys even know what DEPRESSION is?

 Ki kahi bhi aise hi use kiye jaarhe ho bas 'cool' banne keliye?

Show me one stance where Arjun suffers from acute depression like you guys portray him?

Ab banda apne family members ke marne ke baad roye bhi nahi? Wo bhi isliye ro rha kyuki wo DEPRESSION me hai?

Thora dimaag lagaya karo yaar! Har cheez depression nahi hota!

If someone gets hurt and starts crying, imagine a five year old child crying after falling down, he is depressed?

Peeps literally pick up a few stances from the war part of Mahabharat where Arjun is crying over Bheeshm, Abhimanyu etc, and show him to be DEPRESSED, SUICIDAL and what not!

So what is he supposed to do, laugh? Celebrate, o wow my family members are getting killed? Behen ke pakoro, wo AISA karta na, tab hota wo actual me DEPRESSED!

HE REACTS LIKE HOW A HUMAN IS SUPPOSED TO REACT GUYS!

You think one can perform years of penance after being depressed? Really? Do you guys know how much mental power is required to do penances, get such powerful astras, our boi even fought with Mahadev guys! HE LITERALLY SPENDS TIME IN HEAVEN! Do you think Indra is going to allow someone who is mentally depressed and suicidal in his abode? Is he then qualified enough to go to the heavens and simultaneously learn weapons, dancing and singing?

THE MENTAL POWER REQUIRED TO DO SO, CAN YOU GUYS IMAGINE?!

And you tend to call this guy SUICIDAL.....*rubs my temple* 

Sach sach batao, aur koi mila nahi tha kya? 🤣🤣🤣🤣Seriously guys, Arjun ko depressed? 

Ek minute ke liye mai Yudhishthir ka maan lu ki self guilt and all, lekin tumlog Arjun ko hi.... 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Behen, Bhagwan Nar jis din depression me ajaega na, usdin tumhari aur humari existence bhi khatam hojani hai usidin.😂😂😂😂

To ye TV serial aur Fictions se Arjun ka character analysis karna bandh karo, aur thora BORI padhlo 😂.

Aur please, Google se Depression aur Suicidal hone ka meaning bhi check karlena....ya ye bhi mujhe hi batana padega?

Don't try to be cool, for you guys appear to be like a fool.

[justporo]

The Push and the Pull (There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin)

I'm so deep in my feelings today, just sitting on the sofa being sick. So this is what you get: an angsty, fluffy, deeply corny fic of Astarion and Tav having a heart to heart. (Fueled by Taylor Swift and underlined by a Hozier lyric in the title, we really out here using all the clichés today)

And I'd really like to dedicate this to all my friendly and lovely and caring mutuals and friends here today - those I talk to almost every day now, those who created lovely art for me and those who are just all around so so lovely to me.

Summary: Since Astarion's confession, Tav and the vampire have spent every single possible moment together, getting closer, but guilt weighs on her and so she speaks her mind - about more than one thing apparently.

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: Talk about sex and past trauma

Wordcount: 2,4k

Song: This is me trying - Taylor Swift

~~~

You laid with Astarion in his tent, all entangled: your arms around his upper body, one leg hooked around his and the other mushed between his as well. And Astarion held you just as desperately. His arms always seemed to drag you in closer as to not allow just the tiniest piece of space between you. His hands were roaming your back, softly caressing it and his face burrowed in your hair, softly nuzzling you with his nose.

Your face was buried in his chest, breathing in his scent: camp fire smoke, forest pine needles and some of the scent he liked to put on with bergamot and brandy.

You wanted to hold him as closely as possible. Wanting to give him as much of this comfort as possible.

Since his confession at Moonrise Towers you had spent every single night together. At first Astarion had seemed a bit surprised when you had come over and told him you wanted to spend the evening and the night with him. Seemingly he hadn’t been able to wrap his head around the fact that you actually wanted to spend time with him – with both your clothes on. Despite you assuring him after his confession that you cared deeply for him and were more than prepared to aid him in figuring out what he needed. And waiting, waiting until he was comfortable again for other stuff – or even finding new ways altogether if that was what was required.

But soon he’d been awaiting you every evening to come over, seeming like a kid that was desperate to be allowed to finally leave the dinner table to go play whenever you and the rest set up camp for the night. And so usually during the evening when the whole party retired you spent your nights with the vampire. Talking, detangling his hair, kissing, him massaging your tensed back, joking around until you both almost cried, worrying about what the next day or battle would bring, reading, playing cards with a deck you had pickpocketed somewhere, just getting to know each other better.

At this point you both really enjoyed that your elven nature allowed you to stay up way longer than most other party members – grateful for the extra time to spend with each other.

But the thing you probably spent most of your time with was: holding each other. Laying like this, feeling each other’s bodies, delighting in the comfort to know the other one was alive and just as eager to be held.

Astarion could seemingly  never get enough of having you in his arms. Always pulling you back into his arms in the morning when you tried to crawl out of his tent to start the day. Always groaning and hugging you harder when you started to protest until you gave in – if only for five more minutes. And how could you deny him anyway – this was the bare minimum he deserved after two hundred years of torment and being stripped of the most basic needs.

And also you wanted to imprint the feeling of his arms around you and his body against yours on your mind, wanting to memorise his smell – so to be able to always conjure this sensation and the feelings that came with it: warmth, joy, love.

You hadn’t quite put that last thing in words yet, but you’d known you felt like that for some time now. Your heart swelled achingly whenever you thought about Astarion. Your dearest wish being to keep him safe, help him heal and hold him close for as long as you were able to.

But tonight, you couldn’t shake a feeling of sadness. With all the positive developments in your relationship with the vampire there was this one thing that kept gnawing on your thoughts and lay heavy on your mind. And you felt you had to get it out now.

You pushed up from your cuddling position, Astarion immediately making a displeased noise and face while you leant on your arms to hover above him and look directly into his eyes. And you saw how his facial expression changed from mocking annoyance to worry, his brows drawing together, as he looked at you and obviously saw in your face that something was the matter.

He softly cupped your face with one hand: “What is it, my love? Is something wrong? Have I done something wro-“ “I’m-I’m sorry, Astarion”, you blurted out.

Immediately Astarion’s eyes filled with shock, his lips parted slightly – he obviously immediately thought that he had messed up in some kind of way. So you quickly continued to rip him out of his spiralling negative thoughts.

“I feel like… No… I took advantage of you and for that I feel terrible, Astarion, I’m so sorry. I know this does not changed what happened, but I wanted you to know that. And I hope you can forgive me for that”, you said and sat up, suddenly feeling you needed to be in an upright position to have this conversation.

Astarion sat up as well, leaning back on his hands and looking utterly confused. His eyes weren’t full of fear anymore but now filled with worry: “Love, could you please clarify because it seems I can’t catch up with what you mean.”

“The nights we slept with each other”, you replied immediately, feeling how the words and the feelings in you were desperate to get out. Tears started to well up in your eyes which you angrily started to rub away with your hands. “I treated you just as everyone else did. I don’t want that, I don’t want to use you, you deserve better”, you continued as the tears really started flowing in hot streams over your cheeks.

Astarion sat up further until he was in a cross-legged position and could lean to you to grab your hands that kept wiping away tears you felt you weren’t allowed to shed in this moment.

“Love, you feel like you took advantage of me when I told you I manipulated you into falling for me and now feel bad that you did exactly what I wanted you to do?”, he replied with sorrow on his face and you realised he had heaps of his own guilt.

You didn’t know how to reply so you just kept looking at him. “Tav, I understand what you mean but… How were you even supposed to know at that point?” You started to shrug, trying to say something like you would have had to know better but Astarion shushed you. He moved to cup your cheek.

“My sweet, please, I can’t even say how much I appreciate you saying this but please – leave it in the past, alright? I understand you feel bad for that and so do I for seducing you with ulterior motives in mind.”

You wanted to immediately reassure him that you were over this, but again he made you stay silent with softly lifting his free hand to silence you.

“Let us just agree to leave this behind us, alright? We are here now. Let’s not burden yourself with more than we already have going on, my love. This is a hard lesson I had to learn in life: you can’t undo what has happened, so sometimes it’s better to not let your mind be consumed by it.”

You softly nodded when he looked at you with raised eyebrows awaiting your approval. The tears had slowly subsided, but Astarion’s fingers were still softly brushing over your cheeks.

“And if it’s any reconciliation: it’s been different with you, from the very beginning.” He angled his head and his crimson gaze drifted away softly as he remembered.

 “You were so eager to be held, to open your heart and give yourself to me. And more so, so eager to give back”, he whispered and absent-mindedly a warm smile crept onto his face before his brows drew together again. “And now you are with me. Every single free second you have you spend with me although I can’t… It’s…”, his words trailed off, his hand dropped from your face.

Astarion sighed and lifted his face to the ceiling of the tent. “I know you said you were willing to wait and… not have sex with me until I was ready for it. And the next time I want to fall into your arms, I want to be sure it's without fear, without a slither of doubt, with nothing on my mind but having you, but…” His words trailed off again, his gaze dropping to the floor. You cautiously reached for one of his hands, starting to softly knead it with yours.

After a few moments, Astarion sighed and looked directly at you, red eyes piercing: “The truth is… I want you, desperately. I can’t stop thinking about how your naked body felt against mine. Hells, I get aroused basically every time you’re even remotely close to me. I feel like a giddy adolescent around you at the best of times. Sometimes I can't stop thinking about burying my face between your legs, slobbering at you like a godsdamned dog until you forget anything but my name. Or about wanting to immerse myself in you, lose myself under your hands for I know I would not have to fear drowning. But it all feels so rotten. It’s so frustrating.” He withdrew his hand from yours and pressed both of them against his eyes with a sigh of frustration.

You could only sit there and listen to his speech, your cheeks heating slightly at his confession. And you realised that he was walking around with so much worry and pain and desperation.

“Would you rather I keep more of a dista-“ “NO!”, Astarion immediately exclaimed and stared at you. “Unless…”, he continued more calmly and with a tinge of worry in his voice, “I mean unless it makes you uncomfortable that I’m like a needy youth around you.” You immediately shook your head eagerly. Astarion went back to pressing his hands to his eyes.

“Astarion, I’m…” – you wanted to apologise again but Astarion shortly lifted his hands and gave you a stare that dared you to utter the words, so you just sighed and went on – “If I can do anything to help you, please tell me. But other than that: firstly, I want you too – more than is probably healthy, I’m sure you know that. But - look at me” – you grabbed his hands this time, forced him to look at you for the next words – “I love spending time with you like this. These are the best parts of my day. You’re a delight to be around, Astarion, you’re so smart and witty. I could listen to you talk for hours. If we could just stay here, laying in each other’s arms forever, you can bet your sweet ass, I would!”

You had almost shouted the last words, riling yourself up so much with your feelings for the vampire spawn. And you felt your feelings almost boil over in your chest, so you proceeded with the thought racing through your mind before you got too shy and wouldn’t put it out there:

“I love you, Astarion!”

It came out almost a little forceful and you pressed your lips together after the words had left your mouth. But you immediately were sure that it had been the right thing to do.

Astarion’s eyes widened at you, his mouth hanging open. His eyes jumped all over you, from your one eye to the other, to your lips and back again.

The silence drew out and you started to become uneasy, awkwardly starting to shift around in your sitting position as you waited for Astarion to react with something more than surprise.

“Sorry, I shouted”, you said and bit your lip “and you don’t have to say it back.” “Gods, stop apologising already, you idiot”, Astarion immediately replied and swung over to grab your face and kiss you – forcefully and passionately.

After some long moments he broke the kiss shortly: “Also I love you too, Tav.” And then he kissed you again, pulling you over until you sat in his lap. “I love you more than I ever loved anything”, he whispered in between kisses.

Somewhen, you leaned back until you were laying there again just like at the beginning of the night. Still kissing. And you stayed like this for a long time.

Much later you broke away, both your lips swollen from kissing, and just looked into each other’s eyes. You pressed your hand against Astarion’s with spread fingers – observing the differences between your hand and his.

“Astarion?”

“Hm?”, he simply hummed and kept staring at you.

“You said I didn’t have to apologise.”

“Hm.”

“I’ll have you know the same goes for you, okay? Because don’t think I didn’t realise you only spoke about me and left yourself out! I mean, yes, you manipulated you, but you fell for me in the end, you clown, and look where all that got you”, you said and couldn’t help grinning. You closed your fingers around Astarion’s hand.

Astarion grinned back: “Right in the best kind of mess I could have ever imagined. And now you’re stuck with this clown.” He moved his free hand to motion towards himself. “And I would argue a much more attractive clown than the average jester.”

You laughed softly at that and moved in to press another kiss to his lips. Then you buried your face against his chest again while he wrapped his arms around you closer.

“Would you mind saying it again?”, Astarion whispered softly.

For a moment, you were confused but then caught on. You lifted your head again to look directly into his open and shining red eyes: “I love you, Astarion.”

His eyes started to shine even more: “I love you, Tav.”

And you grinned at each other giddily until you had to press your head against his shirt and let out a little squeal of happiness and kick your feet while you heard and felt Astarion’s soft laugh rumbling through his chest.

Then you snuggled up against each other until you both lay comfortably and you both drifted off into your trance – while your hearts had yet moved a bit closer together.

[mannequinreligi0n]

okay forgive me if this is too specific or something u wouldnt wanna write but perchance some smutty vergil x chubby reader would be rlly nice …. can literally be any type of smut you want idec i just crave more explicit love for the fat girls in x readers on here 😞

Vergil x Chubby/Fat!Reader HCS

Vergil is literally president of the big booty bitches club so naturally, I have to respond to this. NSFW warning.

**Notes are posted at the bottom.

- So in a prev post, I mentioned how Vergil would find full-figured women attractive and I’m RIGHT. Vergil would have a very traditional/instinctual attraction toward people since he’s very in tune with his demonic side. It’s allllll about who’s the best partner for sustainability and health and fertility. Think of the Venus of Willendorf! A beautiful carving of a rounder body, praised for her beauty and ability to provide life. It all ties back to our survival instincts and what we desire most in a mate.

- With that in mind, Vergil would absolutely go for someone thicker. Someone to come home to after a long day of fighting and just meld into.

- Not to indulge the ‘Vergil is possessive’ stereotype, but he IS. It’s definitely not something he’ll display around other people, but in the comfort of your own home, he is touchy and needy. It’s borderline annoying. Constantly laid on top of you, calloused fingers squeezing love-handles and plump flesh like a damn stress ball. ‘Mine, mine, mine’ is all that’s bouncing around his demon brain as he grasps and caresses the soft rolls and round curves.

- I’ve already established Vergil as an ass man, and it’ll only be worse if his partner is lugging around a dumptruck of an ass behind them. He’ll roll you over to your stomach to lay his head on your bottom, gripping and biting marks into the flesh until it hurts to sit. As soon as the hickeys start to fade, he’ll make sure to pin you back down and add fresh ones so there’s a permanent brand of who you belong to.

- Vergil has a certificate of excellence in eating pussy, with a medal in face-sitting. He doesn’t care how heavy you are, how much you protest - he’s holding you down above him by your hips and is smothering himself in your flesh. You think you’ll break his neck? You won’t - and even if you did, he’s a devil! It’ll heal, and he’ll pull you right back down to do it all over again, just so he can feel you ride his face. He’s not letting you off until you’re practically shoving him away, only to reveal that charming, shit-eating smile of his covered in the glisten of your release.

- Having a heavier partner would only mean free workout equipment for Vergil. He’d have you sit on his back while he does pushups, bench press you, carry you while he runs around. It’s a welcome challenge that translates to the bedroom. This man dropkicks demons that probably weigh as much as a car - you bet your ass he’s got you pretzels in his arms, supporting your full weight while he drives himself into you. Something about seeing the pillowy flesh recoil and bounce every time he thrusts back in makes his head feel like he just did whippets.

- Circling back, a lot of this ties into body worship. Vergil is an adoring, devoted man. A true poetic lover. If you don’t feel like an otherworldly goddess being worshipped by a lowly devotee, then something’s wrong. He will literally kiss the ground you walk on, cater to your every need, make sure you feel like the most treasured and beautiful person to ever grace his vision. If he had his way, he’d spend every second of the day kissing every inch of your body and murmuring prophetic proclamations of love and devotion.

**Notes: This would be dependent on the duration of the relationship. Vergil is not a trusting man, so to get him to this level would require the relationship to be long-term. I’ve never seen him as someone who has flings or one-night stands, so if he loves someone, he really loves them and wants to always be with them.

[rubyvroom]

Ed Zitron lays it all out here.

You are the victim of a con — one so pernicious that you’ve likely tuned it out despite the fact it’s part of almost every part of your life. It hurts everybody you know in different ways, and it hurts people more based on their socioeconomic status. It pokes and prods and twists millions of little parts of your life, and it’s everywhere, so you have to ignore it, because complaining about it feels futile, like complaining about the weather.  It isn’t. You’re battered by the Rot Economy, and a tech industry that has become so obsessed with growth that you, the paying customer, are a nuisance to be mitigated far more than a participant in an exchange of value. A death cult has taken over the markets, using software as a mechanism to extract value at scale in the pursuit of growth at the cost of user happiness.  These people want everything from you — to control every moment you spend working with them so that you may provide them with more ways to make money, even if doing so doesn’t involve you getting anything else in return. Meta, Amazon, Apple, Microsoft and a majority of tech platforms are at war with the user, and, in the absence of any kind of consistent standards or effective regulations, the entire tech ecosystem has followed suit. A kind of Coalition of the Willing of the worst players in hyper-growth tech capitalism.  Things are being made linearly worse in the pursuit of growth in every aspect of our digital lives, and it’s because everything must grow, at all costs, at all times, unrelentingly, even if it makes the technology we use every day consistently harmful.

What this writer terms the Rot Economy is a larger system that creates the enshittification we know and loathe. It's the constant irrational pursuit of growth. Rot Economy is a great term for a definition that has been slowly coming into focus from one horizon to the other. Not just tech. This essay focuses on Spotify and Meta and speaker software and websites but you could easily extrapolate from here to absolutely everything.

I’m not writing this to complain, but because I believe [sic] that we are in the midst of the largest-scale ecological disaster of our time, because almost every single interaction with technology, which is required to live in modern society, has become actively adversarial to the user. These issues hit everything we do, all the time, a constant onslaught of interference, and I believe it’s so much bigger than just social media and algorithms — though they’re a big part of it, of course.  In plain terms, everybody is being fucked with constantly in tiny little ways by most apps and services, and I believe that billions of people being fucked with at once in all of these ways has profound psychological and social consequences that we’re not meaningfully discussing. 

Not to mention being actively fucked with in every way, in every aspect of our lives, by every company trying to suck the last drops of profit from us every minute of the day. How does that constant frustration contribute to the ways we treat each other as family, friends, neighbors, in politics, in everyday interactions?

Anyway, go and read.

[daisynik7]

This is for your y2k!

“Photograph” by Ed Sheeran for Toji Fushiguro - angst

We keep this love in a photograph, we made these memories for ourselves.

Read Part Two - Make You Feel My Love

Pairing: Toji x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

cw: implied family abuse, angst, some fluff, modern day-au, no curses au, a kiss, time skip

Summary: Toji Zenin is scary; he’s the most intimidating boy in your class. When you’re paired with him for a group project, you’re nervous that he’s as bad as he seems. However, you learn that behind that hard exterior is a person yearning just to be normal. 

Author’s Note: The first story for the y2k karaoke party! Inspired by “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran. Thank you @gojoshooter for submitting this song/request! I hope you like this one! Divider created by @/cafekitsune.

You meet Toji in high school, when you’re paired up randomly for a project during your last semester of senior year. He’s a transfer student, having just joined a month ago, introducing himself briefly with a scowl on his face, uninterested in anything. Aside from his obvious stature, the evident scar running across his mouth stands out. Most of your peers avoid him, intimidated by his overwhelming presence. He’s bigger than everyone else, both in height and muscle; he looks like someone you don’t want to mess with. Even teachers do their best to evade him, leaving him to his own devices in the back corner of the classroom. At least he isn’t disruptive; most of the time, he keeps to himself. 

Of course, in a school as small as yours, gossip spreads like wildfire. They say he comes from a prominent family, the “Zenin’s”. You’ve never heard of them; apparently, they are notoriously elitist and filthy rich. So, it surprises you that a son of the Zenin clan would attend a public school like yours rather than a private institution. Maybe he’s different. 

Everyone dreads group projects, let alone randomly assigned group projects. Everyone is on pins and needles, waiting to hear who their partner is. When your name follows his, your heart sinks into your belly. Sighs of relief wash over the rest of your classmates, thankful that they aren’t you. Taking a deep breath, you get up from your seat, slowly walking towards him. When you’re by his desk, he doesn’t look up. You clear your throat to say, “Hello. I guess we’re partners for this project.”

He scoffs, twirling a pen between his fingers, brows furrowed, irritated already. “Great,” he mutters, sarcastically. 

Okay, maybe he’s not different.

~~~

Your teacher calls this project “A Week in the Life”. Basically, you’re tasked to capture your partner’s daily routines throughout the week in the form of photographs. Each student is given a disposable camera, loaded and ready to use. Once developed, you’re supposed to put them together into a collage, decorating it however you desire. A short essay is also required, describing what you will learn about the other person after spending this time with them. You have an entire month to complete everything. Weekdays are repetitive, considering most of the day you’re in school; it’s the afternoons, nights, and weekends that set each person apart from the other.  

“I’m not inviting you into my house,” Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“But that’s part of the project. I’m supposed to see what you do on a daily basis.” You resist the urge to sound equally as annoyed, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.

He glares at you, hunched over his desk. “I avoid going home as much as possible. That’s what I usually do.”

You swallow hard, unsure how to respond. Eventually, you murmur, “Well then, you can do me first. We’ll just figure yours out later.”

He shrugs, unenthused. “Whatever.”

You pull your phone out of your pocket, sliding it towards him. “Let’s exchange numbers so we can coordinate our schedules. We can start next week.” He doesn’t argue, pushing his cell to you to do the same. 

As planned, the following Monday, Toji begins taking random photos of you during the school day. It starts off in class when he captures you working at your desk. Other students are doing the same, so it isn’t as awkward as you expect it to be. Still, it feels odd being watched by Toji through the lens of the camera.

At lunchtime, he sits with you and your friends in the cafeteria, his big body smushed next to yours as you munch on your meal. You notice that he hasn’t brought anything to eat except for a protein bar and sports drink. Not thinking anything of it, you split your egg salad sandwich into two triangles, handing him one. He glances at it, then at you, confused. “What?”

“Eat it.”

He makes a face, taking it reluctantly, having the audacity to sniff it before taking a bite. When he doesn’t say anything, expression relaxing, you smile to yourself, satisfied. It’s gone two bites later, and from your peripheral, you see him lick the excess off his thumb. Mouth still full, he mumbles a brisk, “Thanks,” snapping his drink open to take a swig. 

After school, you attend a book club meeting that’s hosted every Monday by your friend. Toji snaps a photo of you and your group posing with your book for this month. Before you leave for dinner, a few of the girls whisper to you about how hot he is, how lucky you are to be paired up with such a hunk. How scary he comes off with his scowls and glares. They’re so loud, you’re certain he can hear, but he doesn’t mention anything about it. That is, until you’re alone with him, walking home together. 

“So, do you think I’m scary?” He has his hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground where he walks besides you. 

The question catches you off guard. “Huh?”

“Do you think I’m scary?” he repeats, looking at you now, smirking. 

You grin. “Maybe a little bit at first. Not so much anymore.”

“What changed?”

“I saw you inhale that sandwich. The tough guy act disappeared in that moment.”

“Hey, that thing was tiny. I could have swallowed it in one bite,” he chuckles, kicking a pebble on the ground. “And I’m not putting on a tough guy act. This is just who I am.”

You giggle softly, smiling at him. “Well, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Zenin.”

“Toji. Call me Toji.” 

~~~

Dinner with your parents goes by smoothly. You’ve prepared them for this special visitor, urging them to be on their best behavior and not judge a book by his cover. Naturally, your mother is startled when his big frame enters through the doorway, but when he bows to her, introducing himself respectfully, she eases up. After a quick tour of your house, Toji snaps shots of you helping your parents in the kitchen. With the whole spread laid out on the table, he takes another photo before you all gather around to eat. 

Much like earlier in the day, Toji scarfs his meal, mumbling out compliments to the chef. Your parents are thrilled, dropping more servings onto his plate, watching with pride as their cooking is devoured. You can’t help wanting to capture this memory, so you retrieve your own disposable camera from your backpack, taking his picture. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

The two of you eat ice cream sandwiches in your backyard while your parents wash the dishes. The sun is setting, beautiful golden streaks shining from the horizon. Your classmate takes a candid of you sitting on the patio chair, staring at the last moments of daylight. “Do your parents cook like that every day?” he asks, finishing off the last of his dessert.

“Nah, they just wanted to impress you.”

“Well, I am thoroughly impressed. That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

After just one day with him, you feel comfortable enough to ask, hoping that it isn’t crossing the line. “Do you dislike eating at home?”

He doesn’t respond right away, thinking of his answer carefully. “Yeah, I do.”

“Why?”

He smirks, running his thumb along the scar on his lips. “Dinners at my house don’t always end in dessert, if you know what I mean.” 

Your jaw drops, unable to contain your reaction. “You’re saying…”

He leans back into his seat. “Yup. Got a knife thrown at me.”

“What?!” 

Laughing, he nods. “After that, I didn’t like having dinners there.”

You’re tempted to ask for the whole story, but you know it’s pushing it. Instead, you offer, “Well, you’re always welcome here.”

It’s a simple comment. To you, it’s nothing. Maybe it’s because you’re used to offering kindness to others; it’s what you were raised to do. It’s what the people around you do. It’s common. Second-nature, really. 

But as Toji stares at you, wearing an expression you’ve never seen before, one of genuine gratefulness, you realize that to him, it’s not nothing. It’s special. 

Throughout the remainder of the week, Toji spends practically his whole day with you, morning, noon, and night. During this time, you learn that his family is wealthy, though he chose to attend this school on his own will, just to spite them. He considers himself an outcast, the black sheep of the Zenin clan, so much so that he even refuses to associate himself with the family name. And while he’s sure he’s better off away from the snooty rich kids of the school he would have attended, his intimidating appearance and less-than-friendly attitude has made him an outcast amongst your peers. You feel guilty being part of the problem, judging him before getting to know him. He’s actually easy to talk to. It helps that he’s an open book about his personal life. 

Saturday, you plan to go to the aquarium with your family, inviting him to tag along for the project (and for fun). Toji is at your doorstep right on time, dressed in a tight black tee shirt and grey sweatpants, accentuating his chiseled figure. There’s no denying it; he’s very attractive. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it hasn’t crossed your mind. But Toji doesn’t need people to be attracted to him; he needs a friend. And that’s what you’ll be to him. 

It’s a fun day, observing all the fish and aquatic creatures swimming in their tanks. He takes pictures whenever it’s appropriate, covering the flash with his finger as to not disturb any of the animals inside. You eat lunch together in the cafeteria, Toji offering to pay for it as thanks for all the kindness he was shown this week. Near closing time, you take one last stroll through the jellyfish section, marveling at the wonderfully bizarre invertebrates floating in the water. 

“I’ve never been to an aquarium before,” he admits, quietly admiring them beside you. His eyes twinkle with the glow of the iridescent jellyfish swimming in front of him.  

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You nudge him playfully. “So, what do you think?”

He smiles, rubbing the spot on his arm that you touched. “Better than I expected.”

~~~

The following week is his turn. The closest you get to his mansion of a home is on the outside, not even through the gates. 

“This is for your own good,” he warns, throwing a twig aggressively between the spaces of the iron bars. 

You snap a quick photo with your disposable, not questioning it. When you’re finished, he smirks. “So, ready for some real fun?”

Toji spends his days after school at various locations. Basically everywhere except his own home. The public library, the gym, arcades, shopping malls, cafés, you name it. He’ll eat dinner at whatever restaurant his stomach fancies at the moment: Ramen, Takoyaki, steak, even instant ramen, depending on his mood. And while his life seems fun from the outside, like a kid in a candy store, it’s lonely. Except for when he’s with you.

Saturday is different from the other days. On the weekends, he goes to the beach, bag packed with his favorite books and snacks, ready to relax on the sand with the waves crashing against the shore. He sets up a large umbrella to cover both of you as you settle into the big blanket laid flat. He passes you one of his books, a volume of his favorite manga. The two of you read in a comfortable silence, sharing a bag of chips, fingers brushing against each other’s whenever you reach at the same time. 

Out of the blue, he comments, “This is nice. It’s normal.”

Laughing, you reply, “What do you mean?”

He sets his book down, looking at you. “Nothing about my family is normal. It’s just nice to feel like a human instead of a failure.”

Your eyes widen, uncertain how to respond. Before you can say anything, he murmurs, “Sorry. I didn’t meant to kill the mood.”

You close the manga, smiling gently at him. “Don’t be. I can’t imagine what it’s like. My life is very normal.”

“That’s what I like about you, though.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks at his statement, and maybe it’s your imagination, but you see him blush. You’ve taken enough pictures to complete your project, but there’s still a bit of film left. “Let’s take a picture together,” you suggest, holding the camera in your hand, trying to lighten the mood.

“Seriously? Why?”

“To celebrate being normal, even if it just for a day.”

He grins, scooting closer to you. “Okay.”

You lean against him, both of you smiling, capturing the moment with the click of your finger. 

~~~

Toji doesn’t stop eating lunch with you. Even with your photos at the lab, being developed, he remains by your side, eating the extra sandwich you always pack for him now. Occasionally, he’ll stop by for dinner, always welcomed by your parents. On the other days, you accompany him to whatever restaurant he’s craving. 

When the photos are complete, you pick them up together, not wanting to share them yet, hoping to be surprised on the day they’re displayed in the classroom. At home, you compile the pictures into a stylish collage, decorating the borders with fun stickers, smiling as you gaze at each photo of him. One at the arcade, holding a toy guy in his hands with the high score flashing in the background. Another at the gym, where’s he’s kicking a punching bag, making it look far too easy. Finally, there’s the last photo you took at the beach, the two of you posing for the camera. It’s a cute picture, one that shows two people who live very different lives happily enjoying their time together. You tape it right in the middle. 

When everyone’s posters are hung around the classroom, many people flock to Toji’s, desperate for a glimpse in his mysterious life. Many gawk at the mansion behind the gates, unaware of the dark secrets it holds. The girls ogle the gym picture, while the boys admire it, asking for workout tips. Toji looks pleased with how his collage turns out, especially intrigued by the photo in the center. “You included the one of us, huh?” 

“It’s too cute, isn’t it? I had to include it.”

He smiles at you. “I totally agree.”

He walks you home that afternoon, a usual part of his routine now. Curious, you ask, “So, what did you write about me for your essay?”

“I wrote about how nerdy you are, going to class and willingly going to clubs after school. For fun,” he emphasizes, rolling his eyes, teasing you.

You poke his arm playfully. “And…?”

“I said that you and your family are really nice. And that your parents should be chefs,” he adds, grinning.

You laugh, hooking your arm around his. “That’s more like it.” 

Before you know it, you’re at one of the parks he frequents, sitting side-by-side at his favorite bench. “What did you say? About me?” he asks, staring at his hands in his lap. 

Without thinking, you rest your head on his shoulder. “That you’re not actually scary. You’re just you. And who you are is pretty great. Really great, actually.” 

There’s a pause while he processes what you said. Afraid that it’s too far, you attempt to back away from him, but he catches you first, pulling you in for a kiss. It’s hesitant, like he’s unsure if this is okay. And when you place your hand on his chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat race against your fingertips, the kiss deepens, his lips parting open to slide his tongue inside your mouth. Before it gets any further, he pulls off quickly. Electricity hangs in the air, buzzing on your lips, tingling on every inch of your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, throat heavy. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought – ”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have,” he spits out, jaw clenched, avoiding your gaze. It’s a harsh voice you haven’t heard the entire time since the start of your friendship.

“But I thought you liked – ” 

“You’re wrong. I don’t. I – ,” he swallows, struggling to get the words out. “And I never will.” He stands up, turning his back towards you, leaving you alone with tears streaming down your face, embarrassed, confused, and heartbroken. 

It’s the last time you’ll see of him. He doesn’t come back to class after that incident. Rumor has it that he came in early the next morning to gather all his belongings, which wasn’t much to begin with. There’s more gossip about it, of course, ridiculous chatter. Eventually, they fade, and his name is no longer uttered by anyone, including you. Months pass, and gradually, new memories overtake the old ones. Life goes on without him. You don’t notice the center photo of your collage is gone until you collect it at the end of the schoolyear. 

He’ll never tell you that it’s for your own good. That turning his back on you is the best option to keep you safe. No matter how much he opens up to you, his reality is much worse than you can ever know. Hurting you is his way of protecting you. Because loving you is too dangerous, especially for someone like him.  

~~~

Ten years later, you’re an elementary school teacher in your hometown. You planted yourself right where your roots grew. There is nothing but grand memories in this place you’re lucky to call your home. The only exception is the abandoned plot of land where the Zenin mansion was demolished a few years ago without any explanation. You preserve its memory in the form of a tattered photograph, forgotten somewhere in your closet.

Today, there’s a new student transferring into your kindergarten class; an adorable little boy with jet black hair and long eyelashes named Megumi. He reminds you of someone from your past, someone you kept buried in the back of your mind a while ago, for your own sanity.

Little do you know that on the other side of the door, Toji Fushiguro leans against the wall, listening carefully to your familiar voice introducing yourself to his son. He smiles to himself, the month you shared together all those years ago fondly replaying in fast forward in his mind. He’s no longer a Zenin, unleashed from the cruelty of his ancestry, liberated from the life he was cursed with from birth. Free to love who he wants without fearing that their life is in danger by the hands of his wretched family. 

He sticks his hands in his pocket, fingers brushing along the corners of the withered photo of the two of you smiling at the beach. With a deep breath, he grips the handle of the door, finally ready to face you at long last.

[bogkeep]

What would you say is the funnest clock you worked on/put together while in school? Either a super interesting design, or fun puzzle to put together?

Or or, was it more fun to work on new designs or older pieces?

hmmm... i'm not going to have a particularly satisfying answer for you.

a watch is only a puzzle if it's unfamiliar and you lack the instructions for it, but most movements (word for the internal clockwork in a watch) are very similar, and you can find a pdf of the instruction sheets online 99% of the time. it's only a puzzle in the same way assembling lego according to instructions is a puzzle, except unlike legos you can't assemble it in new and exciting ways.

it's also, i suppose, a puzzle to identify what's wrong with a movement that's not working, so there's that.

in school, the movements we are given to work on are very standard ETA brand movements, because they are very common and the movements required by the WOSTEP organization for their tests to obtain their particular certificate. there's been discussions about wanting to obtain different brands of movements just for variety, but at the moment of writing we don't have that.

we have courses where we bring our own clocks and watches that we've obtained outside of school that we practice repairing, and that's the opportunity we get at school to try out different movements and also older clocks. same goes for our practice placements, where we spend a couple weeks at a real workshop (or wherever), and who knows what might happen there!

which is to say i have worked on some older and different brands, but your basic mechanical watch is pretty much always going to be the same concept, and the main variety is just the specific sizes of wheels and parts, and very very rarely some unique quirks. you have to go really vintage/antique to find watches that use different mechanics of timekeeping, before the parts we commonly use today were designed. they absolutely exist! but it also requires a specific dedication to find & work on those (and i have met several watchmakers who are into this. they're not rare, they're just not the standard watchmaker).

otherwise the biggest difference between movements is Complications, which is the word for additions on a basic mechanical watchs. a calendar, moon phases, a chronograph/stopwatch function, the rotor that automatic watches have. they're just another layer of a cake base. i wil say chronographs are the most pain in the ass to work with because the complication has a lot of extra parts and it can be really finnicky - and also the vintage chronographs i tried to fix had a completely different system than the modern ETA 7750 or 7751 we work with at school. i never quite got them to work properly, and it's hard to tell if it was because they're too old, too broken, or if the old system was just not very well designed and that's why they got replaced by better designs in never movements.

ANYWAY. i don't really have a particular favourite! i think most movements are satisfying to work on, and some are bad and frusttating to work on. all the vintage watches i have tried to fix have been super exciting at first, and then less exciting when i find how many parts need to be replaced for it to work again, or when i've seemingly got everything in place and it Still won't go very well. i've heard rolex movements are an absolute dream to work on because they're so well designed they're actually easier to repair than other brands, but they are so high end you can't just let anyone work on them (they require Specific Tools and Certificates and Courses).

watchmakers absolutely do have preferences for what they prefer to work on, but i... don't really have that (yet?). the most i can tell you is that i much prefer working on small watches over wall clocks, mostly because the mainspring is scary and it can smell the fear in my blood. tbh i just enjoy repetitive assembly work - assuming i get to listen to a podcast or audiobook or the radio while i do.

[dichenlachmandaily]

'Saying Dinosaur Names Is No Joke.’ I Would Love Saying Atrociraptor Over And Over, But Jurassic World's Dichen Lachman Admits It Takes Some 'Homework'

Life has found a way to keep dinosaur fans happy on the 2025 TV schedule, thanks to Jurassic World: Chaos Theory Season 3! A new round of adventures has brought the Camp Fam from Camp Cretaceous even deeper into the web of intrigue connecting to Jurassic World Dominion.

The return of Dichen Lachman’s Soyona “The Broker” Santos continues to blur that line, reintroducing us all to a world where Atrociraptors still roam the earth. As we chatted about her character's Jurassic Park Universe with commanding Atrociraptors, Ms. Lachman told CinemaBlend about this very real challenge with these prehistoric beasts:

"…by the way, saying dinosaur names is no joke. It's like trying to read Greek mythology and pronounce the names correctly. It's so complicated, and I do remember being in the booth, and having to give some of them a go, and then another go, and another go. … Other than Atrociraptors, it was most of them."

While I think I’d have fun saying names like “Atrociraptor” or “Ankylosaurus” on a recurring basis, I can still identify with Dichen Lachman’s Jurassic World: Chaos Theory woe. Even thinking of trying to pronounce “Baryonyx” or “Compsognathus” is a hypothetical weakness, so I don’t envy anyone who has this concern.

So when this Severance star laid out an opportunity that was both a welcomed return, and an unfortunate verbal exercise on Season 3 of this Netflix subscription booster, I could totally see her point. Though I have to say, after discussing this very real problem, I think we should all take a moment and appreciate the various hybrids made by Dr. Wu and his lab assistants never had names as complicated as those of academia.

While Chaos Theory understands Jurassic Park’s legacy as a beloved science fiction classic, it does allow for a bit of a breather from the Latin-intensive names that go beyond entry level difficulty. After all, they can't all have names that end in "Rex."

However, as Dichen Lachman continued to discuss why she’s particularly concerned with the matter, I was even more impressed with her Chaos Theory performance. Continuing to discuss the issue that prehistoric creatures and their names present in a recording booth, Lachman opened up to CinemaBlend with this further insight:

"I'm actually quite dyslexic, and so I'm very insecure about reading words that aren't very familiar to me. It never inhibits my acting, especially 'cause I do my homework, but sometimes with these words in a show like this, I have to be told exactly how it's said."

Admitting that “Google can only take you so far” is a lot for anyone in a career path that requires you to be able to say things properly. There have been times where even after asking for how to pronounce the name of the talent I’m interviewing I might still trip over the pronunciation.

So why would an actor willingly put themselves through the aural equivalent of wrangling an ornery Allosaurus? That question can be answered by referencing another identifiable aspect of this Jurassic World experience, shared by Dichen Lachman as follows:

"But it was tremendously fun to record this character and spend so much more time with her, because as you know, in the film she's not central, in terms of the plot and what's happening. But I didn't get a lot of time to live in her. This opportunity has been so wonderful, because I love that character and I love her energy, and to be given that gift has just been really rewarding."

As Jurassic World Rebirth brings us further into the future, and we know that Dichen Lachman’s Broker survives Dominion and Chaos Theory's events, there’s always room for her to pop up again in the future. And as she mentioned in another portion of our interview, that’s a rumor she’d love to get started sooner rather than later.

Alas, we don’t know if Soyona Santos will be mentioned on Rebirth’s July 2nd opening weekend. However, you can watch her do what she does best in Seasons 2 and 3 of Jurassic World: Chaos Theory - both of which are currently streaming on Netflix. Or, if you're still reeling over Dichen Lachman's Severance Season 2 finale feelings, you know where to find that world of danger and deceit.

[blackgirlsrxck]

Guys My Age

Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem NASCAR Reader

Summary: What happens if the reader decides to go to her first Grand Prix? Who will she meet? What will happen?

Note: Let's face it. Lewis looks AMAZING for almost being 40. He doesn't look a day over 27. Anyways, hope you enjoy let me know what you think in the comments. :)

Word Count: 1.5k

 I've always been passionate about racing. It's been my dream since I was a little girl to become one of the best drivers of my generation. I've faced numerous challenges and obstacles along the way, but I never let them deter me from pursuing my goals.

While NASCAR has been my main focus, I've always been a huge fan of Formula 1 as well. The sport’s glamour, speed, and international appeal fascinated me. One race that stood out in my mind was the prestigious Monaco Grand Prix. The glitz and glamour associated with the event seemed like a dream, and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to witness it firsthand. So, when I received an invitation to attend the Monaco Grand Prix as a guest, I couldn't believe my luck. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I eagerly packed my bags and headed to the beautiful principality.

As I arrived at the track, the excitement in the air was palpable. The sound of engines revving and the smell of burning rubber filled the atmosphere. I watched in awe as the sleek F1 cars zoomed past me, each one a marvel of engineering and speed.

Little did I know that fate had something extraordinary in store for me. As I made my way through the paddock, I caught the attention of a few drivers. There stood Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, and Daniel Riccardo. They made their way towards me. “No way am I meeting you, Y/n Y/L/N one of the greatest NASCAR drivers in this generation.” Spoke Daniel. He recognized me as one of the best drivers of my generation. I didn’t know what to say. This was so surreal to have these F1 superstars fangirling over me, a young NASCAR driver.

We quickly struck up a conversation, bonding over our shared love for racing. They invited me to join them for dinner later that evening, an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Eager to meet more of the F1 drivers and learn about their experiences, I accepted their invitation. If someone would have told me that I would be talking to some of the best drivers on the paddock and it would result in me being invited to dinner with them, I would have laughed square in their faces. This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I just hope they don’t pick the most expensive restaurant. Hey, I might be a race car driver, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend $100 on a burger that I could get for $7 at Burger King.

The race went on as usual. A few of the drivers had to DNF due to car problems. Max Verstappen ended up winning which wasn’t a shocker to anyone. Fernando Alonso P2, and a Esteban Ocon P3. I decided to make my way to my hotel to get ready for the dinner. 

The dinner took place at a luxurious restaurant overlooking the stunning Monaco harbor. By the looks of it, I would probably be paying $100 for a burger.  As I walked in, I couldn't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over me. All the top drivers of the 2023 F1 season were present, including the legendary Lewis Hamilton, a man who had broken numerous records and established himself as one of the greatest drivers in the history of the sport. Not knowing what to do with myself, I just stood there awkwardly. Daniel finally noticed me and made his way over. 

“Y/n, I’m so glad you could make it, we saved you a seat next to Lewis,” I nodded my head and made my way to sit down. I introduce myself to everyone. A few of the drivers started to ask me questions about my career. That was until Fernando Alonso asked me how I got into NASCAR. 

“Becoming a NASCAR driver wasn't an easy journey for me. It required hard work, dedication, and a lot of determination. From a young age, I had a deep love for speed and competition, and I knew that racing was my true calling. Growing up in a small town, my exposure to motorsports was limited. However, my passion burned brightly, and I immersed myself in everything related to racing. I devoured books, watched races on TV, and even tried my hand at go-kart racing whenever I could.

As I got older, my dream of becoming a NASCAR driver became stronger. But I faced a significant hurdle – lack of representation. As a young Black woman in a predominantly white and male-dominated sport, I knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy. However, I refused to let that deter me. I started by joining local racing clubs and participating in regional competitions. Every weekend, I would head to the local tracks, ready to prove myself on the asphalt. The adrenaline rush I felt as I sat behind the wheel, the wind rushing past me, was exhilarating.

With each race, I pushed myself to the limit, fine-tuning my driving skills and honing my instincts. I learned from my mistakes, analyzing every lap and seeking guidance from seasoned racers who were willing to share their knowledge with me. But it wasn't just about my driving skills. I realized that to make it in NASCAR, I needed to be physically and mentally strong. I hit the gym, working on my endurance and building the strength required to handle the powerful machines I would eventually drive.

As I continued to race, word started to spread about my talent and determination. It wasn't long before I caught the attention of sponsors and racing teams. The opportunity I had been waiting for finally arrived when I received an invitation to join a development program for aspiring NASCAR drivers. The program pushed me to my limits, testing every aspect of my abilities. But I thrived under the pressure, constantly improving and proving myself on the track. The hard work paid off when I secured a spot on a NASCAR team as a rookie driver.

My NASCAR journey had officially begun. I faced challenges along the way, both on and off the track. There were moments of self-doubt when the weight of the industry's expectations felt overwhelming. But I refused to let those moments define me. I pushed through, determined to break down barriers and pave the way for future generations. I knew that my success wouldn't just be a personal victory; it would be a symbol of progress and representation in a sport that desperately needed it.

As I raced in NASCAR, I became a role model for aspiring drivers who shared my background and dreams. I aimed to inspire them, to show them that they too could break down barriers and achieve greatness. Becoming a NASCAR driver wasn't just about winning races and championships. It was about proving that dreams know no bounds, and that passion and talent could overcome any obstacle. It was about changing the face of the sport and leaving a lasting legacy for others to follow.” I see the way Lewis looked at me as I finish my story. He had this sparkle in his eye that I saw only one time before. With my ex boyfriend, before he became a douchebag. 

As I mingled with the drivers, I felt a connection with each of them. They were incredibly supportive and shared stories of their own racing journeys. Lewis, in particular, seemed intrigued by my background and accomplishments. His charisma and passion for the sport were captivating, and I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn't expected.

Over the course of the evening, Lewis and I spent a lot of time talking. We discovered that we shared many interests outside of racing and had a similar outlook on life. Lewis talked about how he became vegan and how he eventually got his dog Roscoe on the diet. There wasn’t one thing uninteresting about him. Despite the 20-year age difference, our connection seemed undeniable. But as the night came to an end, doubts began to creep into my mind. Would our age difference become an obstacle in the pursuit of a romantic relationship? Would people judge us? Would the age gap eventually become a source of tension between us?

As I returned to my hotel room that night, my mind was filled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, I couldn't deny the feelings I had developed for Lewis. On the other hand, the practical side of me worried about the challenges we might face. I open the door to my room and make my way to the king sized mattress where I fell on. Closing my eyes, I slowly start to let myself drift to sleep, until my phone vibrated. 

It was a Instagram notification from lewis. I clicked on it to see what said. I know you felt what I felt tonight. In the two hours we’ve known eachother, I feel like we were supposed to meet. It just makes sense. We make sense. Despite the fact that  I’m old enough to be your father.  If you feel the same way meet me at room 388 in 30 minutes. -lewis <3  Was this really happening? Am I hallucinating? I think I need a drink. Besides I’m in Monaco, its legal. 

To be continued… 

[rockyp77mk3]

Right my side lost and your side won. I am trying to understand but I want to know what is the big difference between the Progressives and conservatives? Why do Progressives piss off conservatives so much? We only want equality and fairness.

Thank you for the question. These questions are deceptively simple but they require somewhat complicated answers. I will try.

Oh, I am not just a conservative. I am a Constitutional Conservative which means that the Constitution is considered the supreme law of the land. It is the guide against which all legislation, taxes, regulations, and issues are judged. It applies equally to all and is therefore a protection for all. It can only be changed by amendment and is not subject to any foreign law or restrictions even those promoted by the UN.

Since I like checklists I will try to answer your questions in some kind of order.

Problem solving. When presented with a problem Conservatives try to solve it using known facts and reason. Progressives tend to use spending and regulation. I have never witnessed a Progressive try to solve a problem (Or perceived problem) in any other way than raising taxes or sponsoring legislation that further truncates our individual rights.

Control. Progressives seem to love control, either being in control or being controlled in every aspect of life. They want to tell or be told what people can own, how far people can succeed in life, what people can think, what people can eat, what people can drive, and lets not forget what people should do with the very money they earn. In that last one Progressives are content to confiscate wealth through taxes for redistribution to their liking. Conservative just want to be left alone. We want to keep most of what we earn, we want to enjoy our enumerated rights unfettered by social pressure or governmental overreach. We would like government to literally get the Hell out of our lives.

Lack of tolerance. When a progressive gets an idea they believe it to be so good that it must be shared with (Inflicted upon) others even at the point of a governmental bayonet. Socialism for instance, also limiting 2ND Amendment rights, private property rights, etc. Conservatives don't care what you want to do as long as we are left alone to do what we want to do. If you don't like guns, fine, don't own one. If you want to be a socialist fine, get fifty of your closest friends and create a commune, I wish you luck. Do what ever you like, just leave me and my rights alone.

Happiness. Conservatives seem to be relatively happy. Progressives aren't happy unless they are angry or upset about a situation that either happened over 100 years ago or is an isolated incident, or is just something with which they don't agree. Progressives aren't always right but they are always certain. In that pseudo certitude they are willing to trample any and all rights. Individuals be damned the cause is all.

The US is always wrong. No matter the issue Progressives will unerringly take the side of anything that goes against the US. Progressives will support despots, terrorist groups, rouge nations, and criminal politicians as long as those support the inherent anti US sentiment of the hard left. Conservatives acknowledge that the US makes mistakes, sometimes hideous mistakes but at our core we are generally damn good. For example, if Kamala had won you won't see too many Conservatives wanting to leave the US. We are Americans and will stay and fight to the last.

Equality. Progressive want an equality of outcome. A guarantee that all people will have the same success. They call this "Equity". Conservatives believe that equality means that all people will have a fair chance at success. That hard work, effort, and inventiveness will pay off. You can't ensure outcomes only starting points.

There are more but you get the idea. By the way, Progressives don't piss us off all that much, we just don't want you in charge.

[shuenkio]

"Enhypen"

Red string with you˚⊹ ᰔ

Paring: Enha X m!reader

Genre: fluff, emotion, love

Red string theory

Do not copy my works (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

CRD to all divider

Some parts are overdo words ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Heeseung: Living a life as a musician he is, are sure lonely, all alone because he spends all his time every single day in the studio, morning to noon, noon to night, night to midnight, recycling over and over again. One day, when going to the party with his friends, they brought up the love topic and asked him if he had a partner like them, they had been waiting for him to have a romantic life forever yet the man still had no one. He got the look, got money, got everything, just like everyone's dream of. He just responds with a slow nod, he also waiting for some perfect time to have someone by his side however it's like the more he's waiting, the longer it gets. Once the party's over, he waves goodbye to his friends before making his way back home by walking since his apartment is not too far, he chooses to take a nice walk under the snowy rain. The walk seemed so pleasant and cold watching the snowflakes fall above him, making him realize a lot of things he never did before. As he keeps moving his feet zoning out, unexpectedly he bumps into a person who's also lost in their world. Both of them fall to the ground, gathering all their consciousness back before opening their eyes to see you intend your arm open to give them support.

"H-hey sorry to bump into you, are you alright?" He looks at you who's standing on top of him, along with a light street behind you hitting your back, making you look unreal and breathtaking. suddenly he feels like the world has stopped moving when you look at him, you're like someone that God sent to him, his heartbeat does a backflip. "You're the one... For me, I feel it"

Jay: The same goes with him. money? Millions. Look? Hot. Car and house? Check ✓ love? Loading. Born in such a wealthy family, when you seek real love would be a different story. Yes, you can have all the love you want with money, but money can't buy such thing as true love isn't it? It's required your efforts, sweat and tears to get "true love". On the way to his office, with his luxury business bag, an elevator, was about to close suddenly you appeared and quickly waved your hand as a signal for him to stop it for you. Once you enter, you thank him before standing beside him. The moment you make eye contact with him, he feels like his heart telling him you're the missing pieces he had been searching for all along, must make him, his!! "Be my boyfriend!!!" M/n answer "Pardon?" [Too short sorry shawty]

Jake: As the outgoing person he is, he knows what's best for himself and he doesn't need nobody telling him what he needs but as time forward, all his love leaves him for good with the only one reason "looks " Then he realizes they only love him for a short time because of his looks, they got bored with him. Is he just showing his true self? Why is it so hard for him to find someone suitable for him, who's made just for him? God loved giving a hard time, didn't he? Bar! It's the only place they understood him the most. He went to the bar and took a lot of shots, giving himself to the alcohol but no matter how much he drank, he was still sober just a slightly hot throat. You then also came to the bar, and it's happened to sit next to him since all the seats are all pack. You're also ordering the same drink as him too which makes him want to talk to you. Both of you are talking, and giggles how similar your life is before he said "Let's write our story into a better plot together, shall we? I know you're that person who can make my day brighter, I don't care about society against us, we can fight it aren't we?"

Sunghoon: He had some dark past with love. It's not his fault that he was an introvert, loved his comfort zone, used a cold tone whenever talking, and didn't like skin ship much. This is the reason why most people leave him too for their good he is cold, and can't bear him anymore. After all his ugly memory he started to become more heartless, even colder than before, and won't give a chance to anybody again. He's now a single young adult, living his life peacefully. However, the more he cut ties with people, the more isolated he felt. He needed someone, he needed somebody who could be here with him, accept for who he was, someone who was the same way as him. Ultimately he went to relax at his comfort place, the ice rink. As he moves his feet forward, his hand tucked inside his pocket, Out of the blue, You run into him, to your skating shoe won't stop moving as a result of a fall onto the top of him. Embarrassed, your hands are on his chest, you quickly get up and are about to apologize therefore he grips your body tight, and won't let go yet before asking. "I feel like we know each other before, have we?" Blushing, you said no. He continues "No, I mean... For real you're the person who always appears in my dream!!"

Sunoo: The social butterfly, there he goes again, making friends even when he was on the way to work, on the way home, whenever he saw someone he'd ask them how was their day, are they were okay, are they doing well, if they need something just tell him. He's perfect, not to mention that everyone had their flaws but for him, it's almost perfect from head to toe, he had friends, family, socialized well, didn't fear no one, and liked to speak what was on his mind, kind, and everyone's definitely like him. One thing he's lacking is love, he's always giving everyone his love, and comfort words, for everyone's needs but did his love return to him? No. Sometimes he questions himself is he worth it? Did all his hard work pay off? He knows only very few like him for how happy he is, and not his true self. Little did they know he was craving for attention and love back. Consequently, God answered his prayer. Holiday arrived, and when he was cleaning his room, he heard someone knocking on his apartment's door. He went to open it and revealed you checking the room number. He greets you with his bright smile before taking you in(roommate). Day after day, both of him and you become more comfortable with each other, and feel just right when together. And surprisingly he confesses his feeling to you. "I want to start my life with you M/N! The moment you came in I felt like a string had been connected, you are my home, my everything now, please accept this love of mine"

Jungwon: He's fine, he's ok, everything is alright, that's what he said to everyone concerned about him. He doesn't need anything, even love or he's just denying it? He might not need someone at the moment but surely fate will bring him someone whom, he never knew he needed before. he likes to take care of people surrounding him while taking all their worry and weight on his shoulders, alone. And now he said he doesn't need someone to take care of him when he has this kind of idiot thinking, put others before himself. As a result, fate plans to give him someone worthy of him. In a normal day of practicing taekwondo, when he went back home, earphones plugged inside his ear, without notice, someone bumped into him and spilled a drop of coffee on his shirt. "Hey watch where you going dude!!-" he paused. "I- I'm so sorry let me take my napkin" You take your napkin from your pocket before wiping it for him. "you seem familiar, are you around here?" He asked "Nope, but I also feel the same way, you look like someone I knew before" as you answered his question, a biker came from a distance and was about to drive past you two before you could do anything, he grabbed your shoulder turning you around before covering all the mud that's splashing on him. Both of your eyes meet, and explore each other for a second. "Now I know what my grandma means, the red string is real"

Ni-ki: "He looks mean" "He's so intimidating", "ugh I wish you were more friendly " and "Don't date him, he won't be worth it" Those words are like a knife, that's stabbing through his chest, just for a lil of love, why it is so hard. Is it because of how he looks? But who can change their look when they are born with it? Just to please the public eye? Or just to be in relationships? Won't be worth it. Living our life to the fullest would be more worthwhile than pleasing someone, satisfying them and not yourself. Someday he feels sad, he feels happy like how human emotion works. A deep part of his heart aches a little when he sees other people happy, with their partner, laughing happily like nothing to worry about, meanwhile, he living a life with no interesting plot. He always tells himself that he doesn't need it, he has to remember what his past looks like if he ever does, it's hurt but it's even more hurt when you crave something you can't have, isn't it? One fine evening, he checked his fridge and it was empty, the boy decided to go buy some groceries and come back. On the way back home, he happened to pass by the Han River fridge and thought it'd be nice to sit and relax there for a bit. He looked around and saw someone sitting alone on a bench, he went to take a sit next to him. "Hey, can I sit here?" Ni-ki asked with, a silent response. However, when he took a closer look he saw this boy was crying when his cap covered his face. Without further more, he began to rub your back and comfort you silently without speaking a word. After some words with him, he wanted to adopt you right away. "why don't we try this out together, our story is quite the opposite but our hearts are mutual, I don't know and I don't care who you are, feeling is feeling!" He announced, hoping you would agree to him, it might sound weird but you also wanted to" you reply with your stained tears "Let's fight together!"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

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