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rambling-at-midnight · 5 months ago

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Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit ��@iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

#reader insert #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic

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cameronspecial · 8 months ago

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Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases.

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.”

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.”

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.”

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall.

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it.

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity.

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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bitchesgetriches · 11 months ago

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{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal

We’re all in this together. Don’t give up.

On food and groceries:

How to Shop for Groceries like a Boss

Why Name Brand Products Are Beneath You: The Honor and Glory of Buying Generic

If You Don’t Eat Leftovers I Don’t Even Want to Know You

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

You Should Learn To Cook. Here’s Why.

On entertainment and socializing:

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

7 Totally Reasonable Ways To Save Money on Cheap Entertainment

Take Pride in Being a Cheap Date

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There

Your Library Lets You Stream Audiobooks and eBooks FOR FREEEEEEE!

What’s the Effect of Social Media on Your Finances?

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

On health:

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

Why You Probably Don’t Need That Gym Membership

How to Get DIRT CHEAP Pet Medication, Without a Prescription

On other big expenses:

Businesses Will Happily Give You HUGE Discounts if You Ask This Magic Question

Understand the Hidden Costs of Travel and Avoid Them Like the Plague

Other People’s Weddings Don’t Have to Make You Broke

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income)

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years

Season 2, Episode 2: “I’m Not Ready to Buy a House—But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It

On buying secondhand and trading:

Almost Everything Can Be Purchased Secondhand

I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online

The Delicate Art of the Friend Trade

On giving gifts and charitable donations:

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

In Defense of Shameless Regifting

Make Sure Your Donations Have the Biggest Impact by Ruthlessly Judging Charities

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

How to Spot a Charitable Scam

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Say “No” When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?

On resisting temptation:

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

On minimalism and buying less:

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

Everything I Know About Minimalism I Learned from the Zombie Apocalypse

Slay Your Financial Vampires

The Subscription Box Craze and the Mindlessness of Wasteful Spending

On saving money:

How To Start Small by Saving Small

Not Every Savings Account Is Created Equal

The Unexpected Benefits (and Downsides) of Money Challenges

Budgets Don’t Work for Everyone—Try the Spending Tracker System Instead

From HYSAs to CDs, Here’s How to Level Up Your Financial Savings

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess

We will periodically update this list with newer articles. And by “periodically” I mean “when we remember that it’s something we forgot to do for four months.”

Bitches Get Riches: setting realistic expectations since 2017!

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#frugal #saving money #personal finance #money tips #financial tips #financial literacy #financial freedom #money #debt #money management #how to save money

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housederiva · 2 months ago

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Fantasic yes thank you @mt07131 It should be noted I am taking the hottest bubble bath of my entire life while I'm typing this and my skin is the color of Mr Krabs. (these are all cheeses that I have had before so my opinion of each is extremely biased)

We're starting with Neve. I know what you're thinking 'our dear detective has a food pyramid made solely out of the menu of a back alley chippy, obviously she's Kraft cheese or cheese whiz' and you are incorrect. Sit on the floor beside me while I take my bubble bath, we're going on a cheese discovery hand in soapy hand

Neve is specifically a combination of the two cheeses that are in these bad boys that you can find at Walmart for $15. With enough coffee and distractions you can live off these for an entire week. Each piece of cheese is about the size of a quarter, they're powdery, they don't melt well, and the only reason it's in your fridge is that someone brought it to the potluck and no one else ate any of it. We're ignoring the rest of the platter this is only about cheese.

Harding is a fried halloumi stick. It's squeaky cheese that is sooo good when it's melted and somehow still in stick form. The first time an only time I’ve had it was when I lived in the UK. A little cheeky Nandos with Harding? Come on now she's the one suggesting it. This woman eats ham and jam slams, she's eating cold hallumi (bad salty brick ew ew nasty), Taash's first complaint if they ever lived together that would be that they could hear her eating the leftovers right out of the fridge at 3am cause it's squeaking so damn loud while she's chewing

Bellara is the giant babybel. Pictures don't do it justice and the absolute glee of taking off the little jacket before you bite into it like a peach? Undescribable. There's not a doubt in my mind that this woman would collect the wax and leave it in a clump on her bookshelf where she would repeatedly tell you she's gonna do something with it. And yet it grows ever larger with every giant babybel. She's the small ones too but those are somehow worse because she just eats the entire bag of them the second she gets home (not that I do that every time or anything haha dont look in my trash rn)

Davrin is, without a doubt, apple smoked cheddar either from Wisconsin or Lancashire, there's no in between. Once this cheese is in your life you will be fundamentally changed as a person and you can never go back to the way you were. No other cheese holds the same richness and warmth as apple smoked cheddar (either from Wisconsin or Lancashire) It has like this sweetness from the milk in it that's balanced out with the smokiness of paprika. Davrin's bringing this to the cookout and you're going to thank him for putting it on your burger at least four times

Lucanis is Fulvi Pecorino Romano (yes it is Italian why do you ask) This is some of the most expensive cheese I've ever had which is perfect for the man who's offering to pay Harding 6,000 gold to stand around while he kills somebody and then asks if that's too low of an amount when she's speechless. This Romano is made from milk taken from a single herd of sheep that live just outside the city of Rome. It's got this a grainy, crumbly texture that I don't think I'll have anything like again. (I had it at a preview night for this movie I worked on for redacted, I think there was caviar there too it was insane)

Emmrich my sweet vegetarian (and vegan? idk) is Climax Blue cheese. It's plant-based blue cheese, streaked with a natural and flavorful blue-green veining. It is well-rounded, with a creamy, fudgy texture, and with fruity and earthy notes balanced by a warm peppery finish. It's made out of coconut milk instead of animal milk and it's got pumpkin seeds in it somehow. I'm not vegan but my best friend is and she brought me this one time from her work and I ate it all in about 20 minutes. Excellent with wine and those really thin tiny crackers, makes you feel the good kind of fancy

Taash is ghost pepper and fried onion cheddar cheese. Never been hurt by food the way I was hurt the second this touched my tongue. And the cool thing about it is it's also dairy free, and substitutes milk with hemp. The heat from the ghost peppers builds and mingles with the burst from the fried onions and each wheel is aged in a cheese specific cave before it's packaged. It also has that good glowy classic melty cheese flow when it gets hot. If you're like me and you are white people spicy smelling this alone will hurt you

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #taash #emmrich volkarin #davrin #lucanis dellamorte #bellara lutare #lace harding #neve gallus #oh ive been in the bath for a while i feel like a hairless cat's armpit

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fruity-fruition · 9 months ago

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Tenma siblings headcanons from the top of my head

I'm a FIRMM believer that Tenma siblings are very physically affectionate (i.e. hugs, forehead kisses, cheek kisses, high fives, shoulder bumping, cuddling, hair ruffling, etc)

This takes Toya fully by surprise when they do it to him outright, without any room for denial.

Tsukasa was eating breakfast with Saki and Toya before realizing he was going to be late for a meet-up with Wondershow.

He has this thing, where he instinctively kisses Saki on the forehead before he heads off, so he does. But, in his unfiltered older brother instinct and disarray, he kisses Toya on the forehead too. And just. Leaves.

Toya kinda blue screens before snapping back and being like "what."

Saki doesn't even bat an eye lmao she just kinda looks at him like he's a little weird.

Toya: (literally saw Tsukasa kiss Saki's forehead first before beelining to him without any hesitation) "I think... he mistook me for you"

Saki: "Toya you dumb fuck (/affectionate) you've been one of us since you stepped foot in our house"

Tenma siblings cuddle a lot, usually on the couch during movies. Tsukasa in the middle, Saki to his right, and Toya to his left. They aren't aware of the set position but whenever they switch, all of them all at once just think "something is not right rn"

While cuddling, Tsukasa often uses his right hand (which Saki is leaning on) to either scroll his phone, read, or so show work (costume designing, script writing, ideas, etc). He always leans his head on Saki's. He uses his left hand to run through Toya's hair.

Toya starts referring to Saki and Tsukasa as his siblings and family outside sometimes.

Saki and Tsukasa listens to pop music sometimes. Not their main music taste, but enough for it to be significant.

This culminates to a very confusing moment for VBS, who've met Toya's biological, douche, emotionally constipated classical music family, when they hear Toya say "Oh, yeah I know Taylor Swift. My family listens to her sometimes."

Which scared VBS to their core because why is Harumichi Aoyagi listening to western white girl music

Tsukasa loves baking and cooking. It's a stress reliever thing for him. This is a huge bonus for his siblings (mainly Saki. Toya's not a huge sweets person) because there's always sweets in the pantries.

Toya never sneaks into the kitchen alone, he wouldn't dare. Plus, again, not a huge sweets person. Saki, however, is a horrible influence. They often have 2am gossip, accompanied by brownies and vanilla ice cream.

Toya and Saki can't cook for their life. (I know canonically, they're okay-ish, but hear me out.)

Toya, raised as a rich kid for most his life, has never cut a single raw ingredient in his life until his late teen years.

Saki's been hospitalized for the majority of her life.

Tsukasa's the only Tenma sibling with cooking and baking skills (considering he had to fend for himself for a while)

While they were baking together, Toya and Saki managed to get the batter on the ceiling AND explode the microwave because the batter had too much eggshells in it when they put it in. Tsukasa had to call Rui over to fix it.

Tsukasa: "I can't pay you for now, Rui I'm so sorry-"

Rui: "Don't worry about it, Tsukasa"

Tsukasa: "I'll repay you in sweets when we're done?"

Rui: "...preferably not ceiling ones but yeah I'd like that"

Speaking of,

Ruikasa starts dating and Tsukasa swears that Rui had nothing to worry about when it comes to his family. They're welcoming! They're open! They'll love him.

Rui decided to not tell him about the glares coming from a certain pinkish blonde and split haired boy when they announced the news. (At least the parents were sweet)

Toya and Saki actually has no real gripes against Rui. They're protective, sure, they will eventually corner Rui and interrogate him, but Saki just thinks it's funny and Toya is just Toya. Rui's paranoid lmao

Akito punching Toya in the main story left a bruise (as seen in the official animation) which Tsukasa and Saki got really concerned about during their arcade hangout (Toya's first 3* side story).

Tsukasa figured out that Akito was the one who did it, and ranted to Saki about it. But he retracts it when the duo made up.

Saki isn't letting that shit go, oh no. This GINGER punched her brother?? Then, she started hearing about how Akito likes messing with Tsukasa, even insulting him to his face sometimes.

So she has a personal beef with Akito. Who didn't even know she existed.

When Akito first step foot into the Tenma household, he was dreading the presence of Tsukasa, but to his shock and horror, Tsukasa is actually more tame at home.

His biggest worry should've been the girl with pigtails, who, upon seeing him, got up from her chair and heads straight to her room. not breaking eye contact.

It takes a while, but Saki and Akito gains an unlikely alliance.

Names I gave to the Tenmas:

Tenma siblings: All three of them, at once

Tenma Twins: Saki and Toya

Tenma brothers: Tsukasa and Toya

Prototype Tenma: Tsukasa and Saki

(real original I know)

Kohane is Wondershow's number #1 fan, probably Tsukasa's number #6 fan (I love her but her competition is Saki, Toya, and Wondershow. Idk what to tell you. At least she got a number)

She absolutely loses it when Toya got them all free tickets to one of their shows.

Akito dreads going. An is slightly excited. Kohane is radiating pure joy.

Akito nearly cries when when Kohane admits that she actually likes Tsukasa as a person, not just a performer, when she properly meets him.

Akito: "An you're my only hope. Toya's biased, Kohane's insane"

An: "idk dude Tenma and Kamishiro are pretty cool when they're not actively trying to blow the school up"

Akito: "An please"

I have so much more idk maybe I'll post more later

#pjsk #tsukasa tenma #saki tenma #toya aoyagi #toya tenma #tenma siblings #tenma tsukasa #tenma saki #tenma toya #aoyagi toya #project sekai #ruikasa #for a brief moment #pjsk headcanons #this started as a small post but I got carried away #fru posts

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valwrote · 1 year ago

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I had this set up after seeing how Satoru wears frigfing 250,000 yen shirts- wtf?

synopsis : Gojo Satoru. Someone who is filthy rich with a partner that bargains and demands discounts on every thing. (The inner Asian mom is showing itself.)

additonally: a birthday surprise in the end where yuuji accidentally pops a party popper on satoru's face + lovesick satoru.

a/n : happy late birthday to our favourite sweet consuming demon and dimples guy. ♡

The tension in the room was palpatating.

Satoru watched as you had a stare off with the receptionist at the restaurant he had picked for you two's date.

"Hm...so you are telling me that for a table of two, you guys take ¥ 60,000 per person?" You stared at the guy who assigned seats to the visitors, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

"Yes ma'am, that's right." The man politely nodded despite your rather hostile attitude.

"But you say that kids under 5 eat for free?" You mused, tone softening a bit.

"Yes, that is correct." The receptionist nodded at you with a kind smile.

Silence.

"So you see Satoru right here is actually just 4 years old-" you started.

"Yes, I am- wait what!?" Satoru did a double take and stared at you with his jaw dropped.

Yeah, that's how his life was. Full of life, comedy and fundamentals of bargaining as you would rightfully call it. The number of incidents of you arguing with anyone and everyone for a discount never failed to entertain him.

For example : –

Satoru watched you in awe as you talk- no, argued with a fruit seller over the ridiculous prices.

"I can't believe this! ¥7500 (50 USD) for a single watermelon? What, is this watermelon made of gold or something?" You baffled at the price. That was seriously ridiculous.

"Miss, these are the best of their kind! They won't disappoint." The vendor defended, trying to list out the pros of the fruit.

"Sweets, you should just get it. ¥7500 is nothi-" Satoru was cut off by your stern look.

"Nothing!? That price is just unreasonable! I will not pay anymore than ¥6000." You huffed, crossing your arms in disapproval.

"Haha- miss if I started seeling things for THAT low, I will end up going bankrupt.. how about ¥7200?" The vendor nervously chuckled, not wanting to make you more angry. He also glanced at Satoru, hoping he would save him.

Satoru simply sighed. Messing with you right now would earn him a one way ticket to heaven.

"¥6800 and not a single more."

"...fine." the vendor grumbled, handing the fruit over to you.

You smiled triumphantly and took the watermelon before merrily walking off. Satoru stared at you with an amused expression while trailing you.

Truth be told, Satoru didn't care about bargaining. If he saw something he wanted, he could buy without sparing a glance on the price tag.

However seeing you bargain your way through life was the most amusing thing to him. He had both his heart and his credit card surrendered to you, yet you were adamant on not spending any more than necessary.

He still remembers the day you came home with a beaming smile on your face.

"Satoru guess what!" You chimed, seemingly proud at what you had done.

"What is it sweets?" He looked up from whatever he was doing.

"I got so many clothes for such good price. Hehe those discount vouchers are a gift of God, I tell you!" You grinned and he just laughed.

"Seriously? How much did you save this time?" He chuckled, curious as to how much you saved.

"Well, the salesman was about to tell me the exorbitant price but I whipped out the discount vouchers and got 40% off." You smugly smiled, probably impressed with your own self.

However, when it came to matters such as his birthday...

"Woah, what is this?" Satoru marveled at the sight of the decorations. Everyone was here. Nanami, Shoko, Yaga, the first and second years and you.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" All of you yelled in unison. Yuuji however, was struggling to open up the confetti popper and ended up shaking it so hard that it popped right on Satoru's face.

The man of the hour had confetti, both in his mouth and all over his face. Everyone laughed and some even snagged some pictures.

Satoru stood still for a second before his palm reached up to remove his blindfold which surprise surprise! Also got confetti stuck in it.

"Thanks- Yuuji." He said, blowing confetti out of his mouth, before smiling and chuckling at Yuuji.

Everyone later indulged in talking, eating and hanging out. The atmosphere was uplifting and heart swelling to see all your close ones enjoying themselves.

"So, how much discount did you get yourself on all this preparation?" You heard Satoru ask you. He was smiling brightly, so much so that his blue hues had smile line creases from his bright smile. You could even see his dimples.

Man, God was playing favourites while creating Satoru, that's for sure. Who knew the strongest sorcerer was deep inside just a gentle soul that needed love like everyone else?

"None." You smiled back at him

"Why so?" He asked, awaiting an answer.

"It's your birthday, silly. Price doesn't matter, you do." You booped his nose with you finger. You could see his ears turn red.

Satoru hated you. He hated how you would say such endearing this that would makes a puddle of mess from blushing. Just kidding, he loved you, with all his heart.

"Still..I could've saved so much money." You whined, earning a chuckle from him.

Nevermind. You never changed. He wasn't complaining though.

gosh- me including so many people are in love with this guy. I wanna hold him in my palms.

happy birthday satoru. You are so skrunkly

©definitelysel

not proof read. I wrote it on a whim.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #satoru

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awh-bowie · 3 months ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪21 things i’ve learned since becoming an adult

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ three years is not a terribly long time, but, i feel like regular metrics of time simply cannot be applied to girlhood and the transition to womanhood. my childhood felt like a single moment and being a teenager felt more like a century. but i digress, what have i learned in the three years since i became a legal adult?

୨୧ fostering meaningful friendships is far more important than any romantic relationship ୨୧

♡ the thing about romantic and physical relationships, especially when you’re young, is that they are not a reliable constant. all i can say about this is that close, trusted friends will benefit you better than any “situationship”.

୨୧ think of yourself like a plant, just a little bit more complex ୨୧

♡ what i mean by this is simple: if you feel awful for seemingly no reason, get some water, eat some fruit and go outside. more often than not, the mysterious specter making you sad is just yourself forgetting fundamental self-care!

୨୧ the best product for glowing skin is free! ୨୧

♡ drinking enough water is one of the easiest and most effective ways to maintain healthy skin. hydration helps flush out toxins, keeps your skin cells plump, and improves elasticity. scientifically speaking, staying hydrated supports your body’s natural detoxification processes!

୨୧ cry, cry, cry! ୨୧

♡ crying is a wonderful and natural way to release negative emotions, not something that is weak or embarrassing. we go into this life screaming and wailing, why stop now?

୨୧ invest in blue light glasses ୨୧

♡ blue light is the enemy of your eyes, especially looking at it in the dark. getting yellow-tinted glasses is a game changer, especially if you prefer low light! i never turn on my big light.

୨୧ you have boundaries, period. ୨୧

♡ there’s no such thing as not having boundaries. you can go through life without experiencing things you’d rather not experience again, these experiences create boundaries. if you genuinely can’t think of any boundaries, i suggest doing some journaling! here are some prompts i made for myself that really helped me.

୨୧ balance is good, but extremes aren’t evil ୨୧

♡ it’s okay to indulge, to be hedonistic! as long as you’re honoring yourself and the people in your life, go crazy every once and a while. that’s what life is about, diving into the things you love.

୨୧ use lighter concealer under your eyes ୨୧

♡ a lighter shade of concealer under your eyes helps brighten your face and hide dark circles!

୨୧ diet affects your skin and hair ୨୧

♡ proper nutrition plays a critical role in skin and hair health. consuming foods rich in vitamins and antioxidants, like fruits, vegetables, and lean proteins, can help prevent acne, improve hair growth, and promote a radiant complexion. see my post here to learn more ;3

୨୧ no one is looking at you, seriously, it’s biological ୨୧

♡ let me get a little sciency here. humans tend to overestimate how much people actually notice us, and this is something called the spotlight effect. it happens because our brains are wired to be super focused on ourselves, making us think everyone else is just as tuned in to us as we are. spoiler alert: they’re not. studies have shown that people pay way less attention to you than you think. realizing this is so freeing because once you know that your little slip-ups or bad hair days go unnoticed, you can start living with a lot less self-consciousness. embrace the freedom—no one is watching as closely as you imagine.

୨୧ independence isn’t loneliness ୨୧

♡ being independent doesn't mean you can’t ask for help or rely on others. sometimes the strongest thing you can do is reach out for support when you need it. true independence comes from knowing when to lean on others and when to stand on your own!

୨୧ dedicate time in your day to unplug ୨୧

♡ taking regular breaks from technology allows your brain to rest and recharge. studies indicate that unplugging can improve focus, reduce stress, and enhance well-being. scheduling time each day for a digital detox is beneficial for your mental health and productivity.

୨୧ you don’t have to justify the things you love ୨୧

♡ “i know it’s dumb but i really love [media] because it has my favorite actor in it!” STOP!! if you find yourself preemptively insulting your interest or explaining why you like it, stop and think. ask yourself what about the situation made you feel like you needed to do that.

୨୧ it’s okay to outgrow things ୨୧

♡ i wish i could stay a kid forever, but being an adult is kinda sick. drifting away from people, hobbies, media, etc… is a natural, unavoidable part of growing.

୨୧ it’s okay to not outgrow things ୨୧

♡ that being said, there’s nothing wrong with hanging onto the things that make you happy! if something you have from when you were a kid still brings joy to your life, it would be silly to give outgrowing it another thought. the fact that it still brings you joy means it cannot be outgrown.

୨୧ vitamin C for bright and even skin ୨୧

♡ vitamin C is a powerhouse for your skin!! it helps brighten your complexion, fade dark spots, and even out your skin tone by reducing melanin production. dermatologists recommend incorporating a vitamin C serum into your skincare routine to fight off free radicals and promote collagen production.

୨୧ being “busy” doesn’t equal being productive ୨୧

♡ it’s easy to confuse busyness with productivity. but being constantly busy doesn't mean you're getting more done. true productivity is about working smarter, not harder, and taking time to rest when needed.

୨୧ taking breaks IS productive ୨୧

♡ like i said, taking time to rest is key. studies show that regular breaks throughout the day, especially short ones, can improve concentration, reduce mental fatigue, and enhance performance!

୨୧ cold water rinse for shiny hair ୨୧

♡ a cold water rinse at the end of your shower can help seal your hair cuticles, resulting in shinier, smoother hair. cold water also helps reduce frizz and preserve hair’s natural oils.

୨୧ celebrate every victory ୨୧

♡ no win is too small! celebrating your successes, big or small, reinforces positive habits and boosts motivation. you deserve it, every day you exist is a victory in the eyes of others. according to psychologists, taking the time to acknowledge achievements can increase your sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

୨୧ they say “trust your gut” for a reason! ୨୧

♡ your gut feeling, also known as intuition, is your brain’s way of quickly processing information based on past experiences and instincts. neuroscientists have found that gut instincts often come from subconscious pattern recognition, and trusting them can lead to better decision-making in situations where logic might not offer clear answers.

-Beau

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sunnynwanda · 11 months ago

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Hi, how are you doing? I hope you’re finee❣️

Can you write a snippet with a huge fight scene and a lot of action (you can include some weapons or gadgets if you want!). Make the villain or hero very angry at their nemesis cause they feel too much tension between them. If you want, make it spicy. Ik it’s hard to put some suggestive things here but that’s exactly why i am curious to see how you will make it! No forcing tho, i would be happy with a fight only too

Two to Tango

Warnings: Suggestive. Slightly spicy. Language. Minors beware. P.S. 'Sternchen' means 'little star'.

They sense the weapon aimed at them, an imaginary red dot dancing over their strained back. Their body fails to match the speed of their gut feeling, causing them to turn with a seconds' delay. The electricity shocks their shoulder, piercing through their arm and shoulder blade. It hurts like a bitch, and with a loud hiss, Hero retreats behind a wall, cursing under their breath. Villain's triumphant cackle riches their ear a few moments later.

"Is our brave Hero scared of a little tickle?" Their tone is taunting, a smug smile undoubtedly tugging at their thin kissable lips. "And here I thought you could take it."

Hero grits their teeth in annoyance. "I'll show you a little tickle, bitch." It's a promise, not a threat. Hero doesn't know what they are going to do yet, but they intend to pay back tenfold for every single time Villain's weapon has fired today.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Villain sings, cocking their newest toy again. They were dying to test it for weeks now, and Hero seemed the best target to do so without actually killing someone. "Watch your language, Sternchen. We don't want to ruin your goody-two-shoes reputation now, do we?"

"This was the fifth fucking time you've zapped me tonight," Hero snaps. Villain came dangerously close to discovering their true personality this time, and - Hero was sure of that - Villain would live to regret provoking that revelation. "Fuck off already."

Today's patrol was meant to be a short round around the city. Hero was exhausted from the shit of a week they had and in desperate need of a break. They had intended to finish their round and spend the evening in bed, eating junk food and watching mindless rom-coms - a guilty pleasure of theirs. Yet here they were, hiding behind a wall with a half-numb arm while Villain closed in on them.

"And where's the fun in that?" Villain rounds the wall only to discover Hero long gone. They look around, confused and slightly on edge. Something tells them to avoid getting caught at all costs tonight. The shock effect from their gun didn't last all that long, but Hero's irritation sure did. Villain did not test their weapons to know for sure, especially not on themself. "Hiding from me, are you? It takes two to tango, darling. You're gonna have to come out."

When no reply follows, Villain pauses. They could bet they heard Hero's voice from this exact spot moments ago, yet they are nowhere to be seen. They scan the area, holding their breath to hear any shuffling of Hero's clothes.

Where the fuck did that fucker go? Villain thinks to themself, still too wary to lower their gun. They couldn't have just left, right? The floors sure look empty. Wait a second.

Villain fails to complete the thought when Hero lands behind their back with a loud thud, and before Villain can even register the situation, they are pushed face-first against the wall. Hero twists their arms harshly, pinning them near the small of their back and pressing one knee to the back of Villain's to effectively immobilize them. Their weapon clings on the concrete floor, sure to be scratched.

Villain should probably focus on what's gonna happen to them instead. Their cheek is flush against the cold stones, their chest heaving in sharp inhales from the discomfort of the position and suddenness of their capture. Shit, they were fucked.

"Hey, it's dusty here," they attempt to sound light-hearted but can feel the anger radiating off of Hero in raving heat waves. Definitely shouldn't have gotten caught. "You're gonna ruin my costume."

"Oh yeah?" Hero's voice is sheer venom that sends a chill down Villain's spine. They refuse to acknowledge the pleasure and anticipation it carries within. "Does it look like I fucking care?"

"You obviously don't," they bite back, earning a disgruntled huff from Hero, who steps on the handle of their gun with their toes, lifting it up into a position that allows them to grab it without releasing their hold on Villain. "You wouldn't dress like you do if you had any regard for fashion... or any damn taste, really?"

Okay, Villain knows they are in no position to be cocky at the moment, but they can't help their smart mouth. The fact that their comment earns a dark chuckle from Hero has nothing to do with the warm feeling in their stomach - it's pure satisfaction from a successful jab, nothing more.

Hero's breath fans over the shell of their ear in time to draw them back from the pointless argument with their mind.

"Want me to show you my taste then?" Hero purrs, but there is something sinister in the brush of their lips against Villain's jaw. They press their hips further against Villain's half-bent form and use a combat knife to rip a large cut through Villain's expensive leather suit.

"What the fuck?!" Villain's voice is incredulous. They look down in disbelief, trying to free their hands from Hero's grip in vain.

"Shut your mouth, or I'll keep going," the knife grazes against the exposed skin of their upper thigh, too light to cut but enough to send a shiver down Villain's leg. Hero was surprised at the rush of pleasure that shiver sent through their bloodstream, attributing it to the adrenaline from their battle.

You keep telling yourself that. Their inner voice is interrupted by Villain's actual one.

"Shit, fine," Villiain surrenders, as if there is any other choice at this point in their predicament. They definitely overdid it with the teasing today. It didn't help that Hero was in a mood, either. "Just stop."

"Good villain," Hero pats their cheek, withdrawing the knife from their thigh and going to release Villain's hands. It would have been all done because, honestly, Hero was exhausted and had no intention of retaliating today of all days.

It would have - had Villain had any control over their goddamn mouth, that is.

"Motherfucker," the word rolls past their lips before they can consider the consequences of voicing it. Hero's hold tightens around them almost instinctively, their leg returning to its position behind Villain's knees. If they thought they were fucked then, now they are fucking done for.

"You wanna repeat that?"The knife returns as well, only now it's against their throat, grazing their skin with a kiss of the cold metal. And Villain will be damned if they don't hear a rasp in Hero's voice. "I said repeat that."

"N-no," they breathe out, feeling a bead of sweat run down the side of their face and over their neck. They freeze when Hero kisses it, their tongue hot and wet against Villain's feverish skin.

They barely contain the whimper that threatens to spill past their lips when Hero drops the knife, instead wrapping their hand around Villain's throat. They squeeze harshly, choking a torn exhale out of Villain, and pull their back flush against their chest, another arm winding across their torso. It takes Villain a minute to register their hands are free of Hero's iron hold. Free yet entirely useless as they flex at the sensation Hero's tongue wrecks in its wake.

"It takes two to tango, darling," Hero whispers, nibbling on the sensitive spot beneath their ear. Villain's head drops against Hero's shoulders, exposing their neck to Hero's impatient mouth. They struggle with their mind, trying to come up with a response, but fail miserably upon contact with their own gun.

"Hero," they startle, twisting their head to look at their nemesis when a numbing pain pierces through their hip. "Fuck, fuck! That hurts!"

They jerk away, but Hero maintains their hold of them. Something tells Villain they would collapse to the floor had they not.

As if on cue, they let go of Villain's body, and Villain's knees buckled under them, muscles still numb from the shock of electricity. They lean against the wall, sitting down to collect themself. And that's one shot. How the fuck was Hero able to walk around after five?

Hero grabs their gun again, snapping it in half before discarding the pieces. Villain brings a hand to cover their watering eyes. They aren't sure what's causing them more distress - the pain imposed on them or the sensation ripped away from them. They expect Hero to leave and are determined to keep their eyes shut until they do, but when an arm snakes around their waist, their eyes fling open against their will. They perk up as Hero pushes another arm under their sensation-deprived legs, pulling them up in bridal carry.

"And here I thought you could take it," Hero murmurs, pressing another kiss to Villain's temple. Villain's irises are dilated, tears still pooling in the corners of their eyes. Their pettiness be damned.

"How are you fucking alive after those?" Villain questions, noting that Hero pauses, unsure where to take them - their apartment or Villain's lair. "I can't feel my legs."

"I'd much rather you said that for an entirely different reason," they mumble under their breath, but Villain hears.

"You wanna repeat that?" They let out an amused chuckle, staring at the thick blush creeping up Hero's neck.

"N-no," their voice is small. Villain finds it amusing after everything they took the liberty of doing to them. "I'll take you to my place in case you still need assistance. And to make it up to you."

"Uh-huh," Villain quirks an eyebrow but nods, a satisfied smirk finding its place on their face as Hero's blush intensifies. "Solely for that purpose."

Hi, love! I'm doing quite well, although busy - as indicated by my relative absense here. I hope you are fine too!

Can I just say I absolutely loved this request! It had my fingers itching to get to the keyboard from the moment I read it. I'm not quite sure if I've followed your idea but I still hope you'll like it. I sure had an absolute blast writing it... and I kinda love them. They felt exceptionally alive. Although, the hero/villain duos always do.

Thank you for the request and thank you to everyone for reading. Love you,

Sunny xo

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood

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someone-will-remember-us · 24 days ago

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After doing some reading in postmodern theoretical texts, several things about the theory suddenly struck me as incongruous. I have been trying to see not just what postmodern theorists say about their theory, but more importantly, how postmodern theory functions in the world–what are the effects of adopting postmodern thinking and theorizing. What became clear to me after some reading was that the overarching effect of postmodernism is to silence thinking and speaking, both personally and politically. I am aware that this is a rather outrageous statement given the attention postmodern theory pays to privileging the voices of

marginalized people, to giving voice to those previously unheard, and to investigating the silences embedded in the dominant discourse (to sling a little postmodern verbiage myself). However, in a deep reading of how postmodern theory functions, I find that these claims are little more than lip service. The important thing to see is not what postmodernism says it does, but how it actually functions.

One of the things that has made me especially curious about postmodernism has been my experience working with interns, for the most part, undergraduate college students, at off our backs. Often, as may well be imagined, in the midst of getting a mailing out, shipping out back issues, or some other tedious office chore, I tend to get involved in discussions of feminism with interns. More frequently than I wish, after offering my perspective on a particular event or theory, interns will reply to me, “You can’t say that.” My usual reply is, “I just did.” I don’t mean to be flip in my response, but I am trying to communicate that you can in fact state your opinion without self-censorship or an overexaggerated reluctance to say something that others disagree with. You can in fact state things clearly and concretely, however controversial. Others can disagree, but you do, after all, get to say things

One intern, assigned to cover an anti-choice event, became confused about how “You can’t say that anti-choicers are wrong–they have a viewpoint too. You really can’t say any viewpoint is wrong.” She actually became confused about her stand on abortion after hearing the fervent beliefs of anti-choicers. Not that she was convinced by the merits of their arguments–that would have been at least an honest mistake. It was her inability to hold any argument as being more valid than another, so that as long as there are competing positions on any topic, she seemed unable to take a stand on it. This, as I see it, is the cumulative effect of postmodern academic teachings on students of women’s studies these days. They are rendered unable to take even the most obvious of stands with any conviction.

The advent of postmodernism as the prevailing academic theory is of great significance, not only within academia but for feminist as well as progressive social movements. There are several problems with postmodernism, the first of which has to do with the way it has coopted some of the key insights of radical feminism, but stripped them of their political impact.

Radical feminism, diluted

One of the core insights of postmodernism is that everything is socially constructed–gender, race, class, personal attributes, etc. Postmodernists take great pains to elaborate on every nuance of every social system that has been constructed. There is great emphasis on constructions arising from particular places in the social order–a white rich American man will ascribe to a worldview that confirms and legitimizes his position. This is nothing new–radical feminists had this insight years ago–social systems profoundly shape and determine people’s lives in ways that don’t seem readily apparent–even intimate and personal aspects of people’s lives such as gender roles, sexuality, even their sense of self.

What is really interesting is the way postmodernists theorists write as though this is big news. Radical feminists have been saying this for years. And in a classic patriarchal reverse (a la Mary Daly), postmodernists accuse radical feminists of being essentialists, that is, believing that gender and other qualities are biological. That is precisely the opposite of what radical feminists have been saying all along–that since gender is so thoroughly socially constructed, it can be constructed differently, more equitably. Where radical feminists do part ways with postmodernists is their understanding of just what a difficult project this is to undertake. And the radical feminist view that this has not yet happened nor could it happen so facilely is why they are accused by postmodernists of being essentialist–because although it does not arise from biological differences, there is now a significant difference in the ways women and men are raised and socialized, hence there is currently a great difference in some ways. I think of postmodernists as a brand of “you’ve-come-a-long-way-baby” feminists–blithely in denial about just how deeply patriarchal conditioning runs and patriarchal institutions are entrenched.

Subverting the subordinate paradigm

In addition to the cooptation and subsequent dismissal of radical feminism, another even more insidious way postmodernism subverts the subordinate paradigm is the way some of the key insights, while claiming to allow more voices to speak, actually silence all voices, causing proponents of postmodernism to be muzzled and muddied in their speech and writing.

Postmodernism: the master’s tools

The hallmarks of postmodernist thinking are tools and methods that serve to reinforce the way things are now. Even while espousing radical politics, the cause of marginalized people, working against all oppressions, the tools of postmodernist thinking foil the project from the start. Some of the primary tools that have the effect of silencing speech are as follows:

Writing style–Although the obtuse writing style is an easy mark for criticism, it must be emphasized again that even highly educated people struggle with its nuances and meanings. As I have struggled to make it through the painfully dense and clumsy prose that is characteristic of postmodernist writers, I have discovered that the thinking underneath the layers of prose absolutely does not merit such convoluted presentation–the ideas are no more complex or complicated than ideas in progressive, marxist, feminist or other theories. This writing style is more than inconvenient and cumbersome–it has an effect.. As Katja Mikhailovich writes in Radically Speaking (see review in this issue) “My first response, and the response of many women I have talked with since, was to doubt my own intellect and ability to make meanings of these texts.” The effect (presumably unintended but effective nevertheless) is to create self-doubt in the intellectual abilities of the reader and to discourage students from theorizing about their own experiences and lives thereby making the connections necessary for radical consciousness and activism. The ability to create theory is relegated to those in authority–professors and their ilk. Even thoughtful and analytical students come to see theory making as excessively complex and out of their reach.

Another conspicuous feature of postmodern writing style is an abiding hesitancy and reluctance to say anything definitive. Witness the reflexive self-doubting parentheses and unanswered questions posed for effect. Also there is much “calling into question,” “moving toward a theory of…” and “calling for a discourse on…” in the place of definitive statements. Statements are frequently qualified out of existence. New words are made up almost daily (the old ones I presume are too precise in their meaning) which add mystique and uncertainty about what is really meant. Finally the advent of the irritating, unnecessary, and inappropriate “s” on the end of every other word rounds out the obfuscation (added even to nouns which are already plural)–”knowledges,” “discourses,” or “positionalities.”

It is ironic that with this prolific onslaught of postmodern verbiage and theory, hardly anything is in fact said. Sheila Jeffreys points out in Radically Speaking that “…in post-modernist feminist writing there is much agonising on how hard it is to speak or write.” The net effect of all this is to silence and muzzle speech and to inhibit taking a strong clear passionate stand on anything.

Denunciation of the meta-narrative–For the uninitiated, a “meta-narrative” is an explanatory statement–one that attempts to explain something as a generalizable concept rather than simply describe a specific individual situation without any generalizations. So according to postmodernists, any time someone uses the dreaded “meta-narrative,” they may be suppressing and silencing other voices. If you are willing to say something definitive, someone somewhere is bound to disagree. If you are saying something with which no one disagrees or no one feels is wrong, you are probably not challenging the status quo (or anything for that matter). It is a grave mistake, however, to conclude that you must self censor because, by speaking, you silence others’ speech.

The other feature of the denunciation of the “meta-narrative” is that it effectively subverts the meaning of the personal is the political. In postmodernism, the personal, rather than being the political, becomes only and exclusively the personal–any attempt to create bonds between oppressed individuals or to raise consciousness about how individual experiences are really reflective of larger social forces is reinterpreted as silencing other voices. Any attempt to make generalizations is seen as silencing and rendering invisible those people for whom the generalization does not apply. This defies a basic understanding of the concept of a generalization–of course it is not true for every single person in the group–it is, after all, a generalization. Exceptions alone do not, however, disprove the validity of generalizations. If I make a generalization that people stop at red lights while driving, certainly it is true that occasionally, some people do not; however it is an accurate and useful statement that people stop at red lights. It describes, with reasonable accuracy, a social phenomenon. To say that the generalization is not true simply because a few people do not fit it, is ludicrous and leaves us unable to describe or name even the most obvious social norms.

The overall effect of this turn away from “meta-narratives” is to stop people from being able to describe their social conditions, from being able to generalize about personal experiences in their lives, from being able to see the commonalities of experience that can mobilize them to see problems as political rather than personal. The net effect is a lot of women’s studies students saying, “You can’t really say that,” about even the most basic truths.

Denunciation of binarisms–Binary thinking involves thinking in dualistic mutually exclusive categories such as good or bad, gay or straight, woman or man, etc. In postmodern thinking, binarisms are bad (that in itself is an unavoidable binarism). Some theorists say that binarisms are the root of all oppression–that without them we could not oppress others. Unfortunately, without binarisms, we also cannot make a definitive statement. Making a statement, especially a political one, requires that we say one thing is better than (or worse than) in some way than another thing. If we avoid binarisms (a feat which some postmodernist writers do manage to approach in their flailingly uncertain prose), we cannot say, for example, liberation is better than oppression, being fed is better than starving, being healthy is better than being sick.

By demonizing binarisms, the effect is to stifle clear articulate speech. People become so mired in trying to avoid choosing one thing over another that they are rendered incapable of sustaining a passionate conviction on any topic.

Taking the social out of social constructionism–What is perhaps most fascinating about postmodern theory is that for all the talk of how things are socially constructed, they forgot the implications of “social” in social construction. After their supposedly new insight that nearly everything is socially constructed, they do not advocate much for transformation at the social level, ie. for changes in institutions, social norms, social structures such as the family, etc. Instead there is much attention to individual acts of transgression of conventional social norms as a way of highlighting that social norms are constructed and not natural or inevitable. This kind of rebellion in postmodernism is a very isolated activity–it consists of individuals taking it upon themselves to fight battles all alone. There is not an emphasis among postmodern theorists for building a critical mass of people united in a social movement which could begin to effect changes at the social level. There is instead a very superficial understanding of the how social forces work–a naive and libertarian emphasis on individual actions and choices as though the cumulative effect of each isolated individual choice or action will effect largescale social transformation. The net effect of such an atomization of individual activities serves to prevent rather than foster social change.

The curious timing of postmodernism

What I find most interesting about postmodernism is not what postmodernists say about it, but how it functions in the real world (and I’m assuming there is one) in terms of social change. The effects of the intimidating and obfuscating writing style, of inhibiting generalizations and so the formation of commonalities between people, of ruling out binary thinking and so eviscerating impassioned convictions, and of overemphasizing individual rather than collective action is to create a multilayered system of disconnection, silencing, and disempowerment.

What is also interesting is the timing of the advent of postmodernist theory. As Somer Brodribb and Barbara Christian point out in Radically Speaking, postmodernism came into vogue in academia just when the voices of women and people of color began to assert a significant presence there. It seems that when groups other than those in power attempt to say things, suddenly truth dissolves into meaninglessness. This is a little too coincidental for my taste.

The coincidence becomes even more striking when it becomes apparent that this is not the first time this has happened. Right after the first wave of feminism, in the 1920s, when women had made some advances, had gotten the vote, and began to gain some access to academia, another nihilistic kind of theorizing became the rage in academia–relativism and existentialism. Again, just when women were trying to gain access, and to articulate our points of view, suddenly nothing was meaningful anymore, everything was relative, and meaninglessness was lauded as high theory.

I suggest that postmodernism is nothing more than the new relativism and that relativistic theories emerge as a new line of defense when power structures are becoming threatened. It is a very insidious and crafty defense because it mouths the words of liberation while simultaneously transforming them into meaninglessness. The real agenda is masked in clever obfuscation–to preserve the status quo by rendering dissent meaningless and ineffective, unable to gather any social or political power. Notwithstanding postmodernism’s purported intention to deconstruct social norms and by so doing, make way for changes, its actual effect is to atomize peoples’ experiences, obliterate the potential for solidarity, silence articulate and forthright speech, and render passionate convictions meaningless. It leaves us unable to condemn anything as wrong or oppressive with clarity, certainty, or conviction. Furthermore, nearly all of the so-called insights of postmodernism are simply rehashed and depoliticized versions of radical feminist ideas. Postmodernism is a theory which denounces the act of theorizing, it is speech that silences voices, it is writing that stultifies and obscures, it is a position which advocates no position at all, it is a politics which refuses to take a stand on anything. And we must see the politics of that–it is a viper that women’s studies and English departments have nursed to their collective bosoms. It is a theory, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. It is a stealth theory that contains a virus which, once incorporated, explodes all possibility of impassioned righteous collective action for changing the conditions of our lives.

(archive)

#radblr #radfem #radical feminism #gender critical #radical feminist #terfblr #pomo #karla mantilla

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discordantwritings · 1 year ago

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Imagine- Sugar Daddy Sir Crocodile (SFW + NSFW) (Modern AU)

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS I don’t care that some of these are SFW. More detailed warnings right before the NSFW

Note: look at me and tell me this man isn’t prime sugar daddy. Also if you want more of this let me know cause. Boy there is so much I could write.

When he first approached you about the position you were caught off guard. You were a very low ranking member of Baroque Works and never saw much of Sir Crocodile so when you got called into his office you were sure your were getting fired. But, in a way, you were getting a raise.

He doesn’t pressure you into becoming his sugar baby, hell you don’t really give him the chance. A powerful, attractive, rich guy like him? Why would you even think about saying no?

Immediately you stop doing whatever job you already had and get a huge wad of cash. He tells you to buy yourself some nice things to wear since the two of you will be going out to dinner together frequently, and you should look right at home in all the fancy restaurants he will take you to.

So you do. You have the shopping trip of your life, finally able to spend money without having the crippling worry of not being able to pay for your groceries next week. You’re giddy by the time dinner rolls around and it’s time for your first date with Sir Crocodile.

He picks you up and appreciates the outfit you picked out for the night, his eyes wandering over you, putting you slightly off kilter. Being judged (even in a good way) by a man so large and influential was nerve wracking. But, ever the gentleman, he held out his hand and guided you into the car.

He takes you someplace you’ve never heard of before but when you see the menu has no prices listed you know you’re someplace special. He encourages you to order whatever you like and you eat some of the best food you’ve ever tasted.

Admittedly at first getting conversation started is hard. You’ve never had many interactions with him and there was one burning question that you couldn’t get out of your mind.

“Can I ask, why me?”

He doesn’t answer right away, taking a long draw from his cigar. “You’re smart, attractive, and I could see that you might have had some interest in me too. Not much to it.”

You flush a bit when he points out that you had an attraction to him- the few times you did see him at work you did have to admit you were enraptured by his stature and the way he commanded the room. At least you’re not getting killed for it.

After that the conversation flows a bit better as he gets to know some of your hobbies and you are able to learn about his love for him bananawamis. It’s adorable how much he loves those things.

He, of course, picks up the check and drives you home. He holds your hand the entire drive home and you have to admit, you love it. Once you get to your place he gets out and opens your car door for you.

“I know we didn’t discuss if there would be anything more to this than going out to events with me, so if you don’t wish to extend our arrangement that’s fine but-“ He steps into your space, towering over you. “I would love to kiss you.”

Arrangement or not you can’t help but nod and let him pull you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. He tastes like harsh sunlight and cigars but you don’t mind it at all it’s so distinctly him. He steps away and grins and lets you go for the night.

NSFW

Warnings: phone sex, possessiveness, limited description of genitals to fit all readers

But you can’t help but think about him all night. Remembering how the kiss felt and how much you wanted just a bit more from him you got brave and texted him about what would need to be done to “extending your arrangement” even further.

Your phone almost immediately rings and you wonder if it’s a good or a bad sign as you pick up.

His voice is gruff over the phone, you think you also might have caught him in bed. “Now why are you thinking about our arrangement so late at night love?”

You’re not sure what affects you more, the accusation or the term of endearment but either way you feel the heat rising on your neck. You take too long to respond and after some shuffling on his end he speaks up again.

“I have a busy morning so if you don’t speak up…” He trails off and you know you have to answer.

“I was hoping, next time maybe, we could kiss again and…”

“And?” His voice is sharp, demanding.

“More than kissing.” You finish.

“So you’re up late at night thinking about me fucking you?” His straight forward rhetorical question hits you deep and you would be more embarrassed if his words didn’t turn you on so much.

“Yes.” You breathe into the phone. You hear more shuffling on his end and his voice is much lower when it returns.

“You all worked up thinking about me?”

At first you nod, but then realizing he can’t see you you manage to vocalize another “Yes.”

“Good. I want to hear you touch yourself.” From the way his breath sounds over the phone you think he’s touching himself too and that sends electricity through your veins. You snake your hands down your pants and moan as you touch yourself.

“That’s it love.” He rewards you when he hears your vocalizations. “Need to hear everything since I can’t see you. Do that for me.”

Being commanded like that makes you work faster, and you gasp as you tell him exactly what you’re doing. Your peak is coming up faster than it normally does when you masturbate and you tell him that too.

“Me too. Imagine how fast I’ll ruin you when I see you next. You’re mine now, got it? You won’t be able to think of anyone else now that I’ve got my hands on you.” His words are gruff and breathy and you can hear him working himself faster, just like you are.

“I’m close.” You whine to him.

“That’s right, cum for me, make yourself a mess for me.” At his words you come undone, yelling his name as pleasure rides over you in waves. As you come down from your high you hear loud grunts on his end and then heavy breaths, signaling he had cum as well.

There’s a few moments of silence as you both just breathe into the phone, enjoying just the slice of each other presence you have. Crocodile is the one to speak up first.

“Make sure you get yourself cleaned up before you fall asleep. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, love.” The term of affection has you grinning from ear to ear.

“And also,” He adds. “Don’t bother wearing underwear.”

Yeah, you’re going to love being Sir Crocodile’s sugar baby.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x you #discordantimagines

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cruel-hiraeth · 2 months ago

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*gets comfortable on your couch

i’m listening. i know you love talking about your most favorite most beloved harbinger 🌝💛

this is all below the cut because i have exactly 1 (one) modicum of self respect. this is the most embarrassing thing i’ve ever done online.

a couple of notes:

right now, this is a canon-divergent au, so the “traveler” does not exist.

while i haven’t decided which region i’d be from yet, this all takes place in liyue, and i’m not from liyue. so i’m a foreigner with few interpersonal ties.

our dynamic is very one-sided enemies to lovers because i really can't stand him, whereas he’s a soft/subtle yandere because he knows from the first time he sees me that i’m “it” for him. but it’s a slow burn because he’s in it for the long haul.

i live and work in liyue when we meet. i’m not anyone particularly special or noteworthy; i simply work with an antique bookseller, interested in learning the ropes. i have an interest in not just regional literature, but international literature, and i hope to start my own business someday.

the 11th fatui harbinger is doing what he always does: shady business. he’s on a particularly lengthy mission (which may or may not involve trying to topple the government) at northland bank. since he’s in liyue for months and acts essentially as a diplomat, he knows the city inside and out. he has his eye on me for a while. i notice him because i’m aware of the fatui—his clothing gives him away. but i have no interest in becoming friendly with him because everyone knows the fatui is bad news.

eventually, childe stops by and pretends like he’s interested in the books (he is but not for the right reasons) and our rapport begins there. he’s charming, but i’m allergic to charm as someone who’s inherently distrustful… i also just dislike him off the bat. i very obviously dodge all his flirting attempts.

after some period of time, he starts asking questions—trying to get to know me—and i’m begrudging with my responses. but also he’s a paying customer (one of our highest paying customers, to my disdain) so i must be civil and engage without divulging too much. with our encounters becoming more and more frequent, he becomes more forward (i.e. he not-so-subtly asks me out) and i always say know. he’s persistent and i turn him down without fail. annoyingly, he doesn’t get discouraged by my rejection; in fact, he kind of (very much) relishes in it—it makes cracking me all the more rewarding.

the timeline in my mind isn’t set in stone, but this continues for at least a year. i try to live my life and he remains a thorn in my side. but there comes a point when he visits me late one night as i’m closing shop that he’s returning to snezhnaya, unsure of if/when he will return. and he has the gall to ask—yet again—whether i’ll go on a date with him if he returns someday.

it’s kind of a ridiculous proposition, and i’m so eager to get him out of my hair (and life) that i tell him fine! i will eventually go out with you if you ever return on 1 condition. and the condition is that he has to bring me [insert an incredibly rare book that i have yet to develop lore for but is basically impossible to track down]. and only if he returns with said book in hand will i grace him with my presence on a date. and i’m truly convinced that he will never be able to find it and i continue on with my life.

fast forward a year or so: guess which fatui harbinger returns to liyue with the aforementioned book in hand, wearing a shit eating grin?

i seem to have forgotten that he's filthy rich and he works in (what is essentially) an insanely intricate intelligence organization that has tabs on all the black markets across teyvat and—yeah. he finds the book. and i'm so shocked/thrilled to see the book that i forget to be pissed for a minute.

so i go on a date with him because i’m a woman of my word. i suspect that he’s going to take me on some stupidly stuffy fancy date since he has more money than he knows what to do with. but we actually go to a hole-in-the-wall eatery that i’ve never tried even though i’ve lived in liyue for several years. and then we walk around the city at sunset and i sort of maybe find myself enjoying his company...

i kind of envision the date ending with him being humble for the first time in my presence. he says something like, “i really appreciated you going out with me tonight. i’d love to do this again sometime, but i won’t force you to." (the humility lasts for all of 3 seconds, but—maybe—i don’t hate him as much as i thought i did...)

so i say something along the lines of, “well, maybe if you get on your knees and beg me, i’ll let you take me out again.”

and then he says something gross like, “i can do a lot more on my knees that just beg~” so i immediately want to kill him again. but our relationship sort of progresses from there…

the end i’m done embarrassing myself for the evening.

#this is quite literally just me rambling like an insane person so #— visiting card #— ajax + kae #cw yandere

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tarfeeder · 6 months ago

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You have the best smoking and stomach pics! What is your smoking and weight gain history?

How did I become a smoker? I've always been fascinated by guys who smoke. I bought my first pack (red of course!) at 14 years old. I immediately liked it, feeling the smoke in my throat then my lungs, the effect of the nicotine which made me a little dizzy at the beginning, the filter which turned brown at the end.

For a year, I remained a closet smoker. After smoking I would wait before going home so my mother wouldn't smell the smell. Then I started feeling the urge to smoke, so I would go out after dinner. Finally, my mother said to me one evening: "why are you hiding that you smoke? I can smell tobacco on you"... I said, "yes mom, I smoke." I think she understood that I was becoming a smoker, and that nothing would make me stop smoking. I felt so free! No more hiding, hiding cigarettes, brushing your teeth all the time.

My consumption increased quickly. Seeing me light my first cigarette immediately after breakfast, my mother said "you smoke too much, you will destroy your lungs" But I found this idea very exciting :)

Gradually, I understood that I didn't smoke just for pleasure, but out of need. It's fascinating how nicotine takes over our brain. It forces us to anticipate the craving, chain cigarettes before 2 hours of classes without a break, smoke before sleeping, after meals. And then, no longer being able to wait until the end of breakfast to smoke, but giving my body its first dose of nicotine, when getting out of bed... Unless it's the need of nicotine that wakes me up? I had to start working after school to pay for my daily pack of reds. And I had to limit myself to this pack, because I couldn't spend more money.

After studying I got my first job, more money, meaning more cigarettes a day.

Smoking had become normal, satisfying my need for nicotine made me chain cigarettes naturally. The same pleasure every time.

As I was very thin I decided to start going to a gym to gain muscle and I really liked it. My body was developing, I gained biceps, pecs, back, my veins popped out.

And friends said “wow, great muscles !” I was very careful with food, avoiding dishes that were too rich or sweet, and being careful with alcohol. Cardio training to feel my lungs clean, because it caused the coughing necessary to evacuate the tar, and lift weights. My body was still lean, but muscular, well defined, I was proud of the result, I enjoyed wearing tight clothes to show my fit body.

I had this routine for a long time, work, gym, and always the pack of reds and tar accumulating in the lungs. But the lungs began to have difficulty providing enough oxygen and energy for training, it became more difficult, the efforts no longer brought pleasure. So my decision was to stop training, and eat and drink what I wanted. Obviously, combining caloric intake and stopping workout quickly had effects. No more abs, fewer biceps, the veins disappears. The belly got rounder, bigger and bigger, and eventually, like when I played sports, it was a different kind of body change. And I started to like these new shapes, the t-shirts that reveal the fat belly, the shirts who becomes too small to button my belly. My lungs are full of tar, they work harder to move my fat, my heart has to work a lot harder, and my arteries must not be in good condition to allow them to work well. I know that, but I won't change anything.

#smoker #marlboro #men who smoke #men smoking #black lungs #fat belly

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donnie-is-da-best · 9 months ago

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Blanket

Narrator P.O.V:

It's 2 am and Stone and Vinnie woke up due to cold Stone is shivering so is Vinnie but (Name) and Skipp are heavily asleep with Skipp taking all the blanket to himself and (Name) is just there sleeping peacefully facing the wall.....

"Vinnie the blanket" Stone said with a bit of sleepy tone since he's half asleep "Hmm I'm trying" Vinnie said pulling the blanket away from Skipp who's covered with the blanket like a cocoon and (Name) is just sleeping peacefully the other look unbothered but the other two in between them is shivering to death

The next day (Narrator P.O.V)

(Name) as usual wake up earlier than the three it's a busy day today probably a big event happenin' today so early in the morning people are already awake and there is our dearest (Name) stealin' stuff smoothly (Mr.Wolf reference from the Bad Guys) without anyone noticing them and they stole enough money probably bigger than 10 dollars it's 200 dollars at least some actual rich people that weren't cheap and with that they went to buy some food and that's a can of beans as usual they stop when they see their favourite fruit (f/f) was on Sale!? ain't they're lucky so they buy one for themselves and went to pay at the cashier then head back before the trio even woke up luckily (Name) has a knife so they peel down the skin of the fruit with the knife and eat it while watching the people pass by Stone woke up and yawn stretching and sitting beside (Name) "Mornin' Stone" (Name) calmly said "Morning to you too how do you sleep last night" Stone asked grabbing a cigarette and (Name) handed him a lighter "Slept good last night probably the best rest I've ever had" (Name) said and Stone just light up his cigarette "how can you sleep last night it's freezing cold you don't have a blanket" Stone said moody as always "i don't know just gets used to it why Skipp take the blanket all to himself again?" (Name) said raising their brow "yup you can say that" .....

#ramshackle x you #ramshackle x reader #stone x reader #stone x you #stone x y/n

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sapphia · 11 months ago

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The Right Are Engineering A Recession In NZ

tumblr isn't very good at local news, which is why i tend to get my nz politics information from elsewhere. so i can confidently tell you that aotearoa under national is totally, utterly fucked. like, not just in terms of all the social progress they plan to undo, though they do very much do plan to do all of that.

national+act+nzfirst have committed to a financial policy that makes zero fucking economic sense. you know how every time the economy is in bad shape, tories sieze the good economic opportunity to slash services or give tax cuts to the rich? imagine if that was happening for just no reason at all. there’s no crisis we’re facing this would even marginally help, but that's what nact+nzfs tax cut policy is anyway.

aotearoa is currently in a cost of living crisis, like much of the world, and our inflation is, to give it it's technical term, "sticky". This means that it's not still shooting up the graph like crazy, but it should have started to go down more by now according to predictions, but it hasn't, and is sitting at an unsustainably high level.

Inflation is bad because it eats away at the value of your money (not something you want generally) but this inflation is especially bad because it's inflation we created to ward off a recession back in 2020. NZ had the hardest and fastest lockdowns in the world, but at a huge cost -- our economy basically stopped overnight. Without goods and services being bought and sold, we would have been plunged into a financial crisis. But instead the government borrowed money to fund the wage subsidy and pay workers through the lockdowns, injecting money into and stimulating the economy.

This was a bill that was always going to come back to bite us, and for the past several years, the Labour government and the Reserve Bank had been playing a balacing game with our economy, steering us between a recession and a wage-price inflation spiral, with a recession definitely being the preferable one of the two. We actually had short soft one that we’ve come out of, exactly what Grant Robertson and Adrien Orr were aiming for.

Recessions can be small or big - inflation spirals are usually just big. We wanted to aim for a "soft" landing recession by hiking interests rates just enough to bring inflation back under control. The Reserve Bank uses it's tool - the Official Cash Rate, or the OCR, which basically sets the price of interest rates across the country, and the government also can use it's powers to create monetary policy to help the economy. A lot of the criticism Labour received before losing the election was about overspending in areas post-pandemic, as putting money into the economy through government spend by using debt to fund it genuinely causes inflation.

What a government should do during a time of inflation is remove money from the economy. For example, a right wing government would often issue an austerity policy, where the cut the amount of government spending through slashing programmes, benefits, staff, etc etc. A government could also increase taxes so people have less money to spend, could pay down government debt, could invest the money into a fund (e.g. NZ has a superannuation fund that's designed to be eventually self-funding set up by Labour that National have paused payments on when getting into government). It doesn't matter too much what, theoretically speaking -- the point is to get the money out of the economy.

What you definitely, definitely don't want to do during a period of high and sticky inflation is put more money into the economy. That would do the opposite of what you want. Labour were rightfully (at some points) criticised for their inflationary policies. So you'd think National would take their criticisms of Labour’s debt blowout and start paying it down to show how responsible they are, right? No, they’re cutting taxes for (mostly) the wealthy while offsetting this with austerity measures to make this “fiscally neutral”. They will make up for the inflationary effects of doling out money to landlords by cutting back essential government services, trying to frame it as a personnel and budget blowout (it’s not) and saying Labour mismanaged the books and we are in terrible financial shape (we are not; we have a triple A credit rating).

And further, it’s becoming increasingly hard to ignore our infrastructure crisis at nearly every level and every location. Our water systems needs billions of dollars of investment that our councils can’t afford to borrow, our rates are shooting up (and so will our rents), our ferries are old and broken down and Nicola Willis Minister of Finance just canned the “too expensive” deal that was needed to replace them — with most of the money going to into wharf upgrades that are desperately needed. There was a huge sunk cost; we’re not going to be able to to buy shit now. The ferries link the North and the South Island and are vital infrastructure; when they break down (which they did multiple times last year) it causes chaos and brings things to a standstill.

Why are they doing this? Land. It’s always about fucking land. All of National have divested in shares and have bought into land under the guise of this removing the “conflict of interest” that would exist if they had invested into specific companies. The usual alternative that solves this is a blind trust, but that’s not what most of the caucus has money in. Luxon alone sold about 12 million dollars worth of Air NZ shares and now has a property profile worth 20+ million. Oh, and he’s charging the taxpayer $50,000 a year to live in his own house. Thats 2.5 times what I get on the benefit that he’s cutting and putting sanctions on.

Nact don’t care if businesses go under and share prices crash; they’ll just sell their houses and buy stocks for cheaper. Their only concern is propping up the housing market ponzi scheme that they have all invested at the top of. This is why they’ve allowed councils to opt out of densification requirements and why they cut back the brightline test and are trying to boost the population with migrant workers; all of these things make house prices go up, make housing better for investors who make millions in untaxed capital gains.

NACT will not let the property market crash any further. Despite what they’re saying out loud, they actually want it to increase.

And they’re more than happy to wreck the economy to do it.

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