#so all i do is rot in bed all day and apply for jobs that i’m overqualified for yet still don’t get hired

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[plutoccult]

HOW CAN I SNOOZE AND MISS THE MOMENT? YOU JUST TOO IMPORTANT

pairing: kei tsukishima x gender neutral reader

description: even after a long and frustrating day at work, you can’t help but fight to stay up with your favorite person on earth.

word count: 1.6k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: i wrote this because i hated my job at the time (i have since quit and found a job that pays me way more), and this idea spurred after a draining day at work. i debated on who to write it for, but ironically the #1 tsukishima anti (/j) @heavenfilm suggested i write it for tsukishima. i mean, since no. 1 party anthem was so successful, it makes sense for me to write for him once more. plus, the fandom is probably bumping again thanks to the new movie. i know this is short, but don’t most people want that? anyway, i hope you enjoy!

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @mayariviolet @dragon-slayer5 @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld @localgaytrainwreck @rasisarchive

taglist form here

the second you walked through the door and slammed it shut behind you, you wanted to fall to the floor and rot there. it was incredibly overdramatic, you were well aware of that, but you felt such theatrics were more than valid after the hellish day you had at work.

your job was easy for the most part. while you knew you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life working there, you at least wanted it to be somewhat tolerable. sometimes you dealt with annoying customers, treating you as if you were an idiot despite knowing the policies like the back of your hand. but today wasn’t one of those days where you put up with some snotty karen, funnily enough. the villain of your work day happened to be your manager.

when things are going their way, they’re the coolest person in the world. but whenever there was the most minuscule inconvenience, it turned into everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t stand it. it was like playing survival mode on the hardest level. many a time were you tempted to put your foot down and quit, but you were too afraid of being jobless for too long and leaving your boyfriend to pay all the bills. it didn’t help that applying for jobs was such a pain in the ass either.

after a long day at work, you scrunch your face in frustration then let out a long sigh, sliding your back against the door as you found comfort sitting on the carpet. too lazy to do anything else, even kick off your shoes, you sit there for a few moments with your eyes closed. it was the most relaxing moment you’ve had all day, but that title would soon be taken over once your boyfriend tsukishima emerged from your shared bedroom, having heard you come through the door just moments ago.

“y/n?” he pattered down the hall, finding you in your current position. “why are you on the floor?”

you open your eyes and see tsukishima’s face. it was hard to read him most times when you first met, but you had learned him inside and out, down to the way he let out a sigh once agreeing to something he didn’t really want to do. the sight of him just standing there, looking down at you with his head slightly tilted brought you utter joy. his face was the one thing you always looked forward to see after days like these.

“hi, my love.” you say. “it’s been a long day…”

“your manager again?” tsukishima asked. he knew you all too well.

“a pain as always.” you groan. it didn’t require any more detail than that for him to understand your struggle. days like these had been going on for a while, and it pained him to see you like this.

“well,” tsukishima offered his hand, you taking it immediately as he pulled you to your feet, bringing you close to him by wrapping an arm around your shoulder, all in such slick movements. “you should probably have some food then get to bed.”

you quickly shake your head in protest. you didn’t want to go to bed yet. you just got home. you wanted to spend time with him.

“go to bed? but i wanna stay up with you…” you pout.

while your puppy face was one of tsukishima’s weaknesses, he valued your wellbeing far too much than to be selfish and let you sacrifice time that could be spent resting.

“you need to rest.” he insisted.

“but—”

“you’ll fall over if you stand a second longer.” tsukishima interrupted you, gently running a hand through your hair, which almost lulled you to sleep on the spot despite your resistance. “i’ll bring you something to eat as long as you get to bed, okay?”

“okay…” you let out a sigh, looking down to the floor as you dragged your feet to your bedroom. you stop for a moment, your feet aching too much for you to bother taking another step.

“tsukki?” you turn around, tsukishima saying “hm?” as he anticipated your next words. “carry me?”

ah, of course. he couldn’t ever say no to that. “alright…”

tsukishima lifted you up with ease, a given considering he always stayed in tip-top shape throughout the years thanks to playing volleyball. as relaxing as it was to be in his arms, you fought like hell to stay awake, wanting to keep your eyes on that gorgeous face as long as humanly possible.

he placed you down on the bed, going as far as to take your shoes off your feet and set them aside. the constraint of your shoes were killing you all day, so you felt immediate relief upon their removal. you were thankful for tsukishima doing such things for you without you even having to ask. he truly understood you through and through, his love shown in his acts of service rather than words spoken.

“get comfy while i bring you a plate.” tsukishima placed a kiss on your cheek and ruffled your hair before leaving the room. you were tempted to get under those cozy blankets, but you knew it would only make you sleepy, and you couldn’t have that. you didn’t work all day just to fall asleep before you could spent more than just a moment with the one you love.

tsukishima found you yawning as you tried sitting up as straight as possible. he came in with a bowl of fettuccine alfredo, having made it earlier with you in mind, just freshly reheated for your enjoyment. but tsukishima couldn’t help but sigh at the display in front of him.

“didn’t i tell you to get comfy?” he rolled his eyes as he sat down on the bed next to you. “here. i’m sure you’re starving after a long day.”

“i’d start gnawing on your arm soon enough.” you joke and take the bowl from his hands. “but thank you.”

“i’d rather you didn’t.” tsukishima cringed at the thought. funnily enough, he thought that such a thing would affect his performance at games. he wasn’t the same as he was as a teenager, that’s for sure.

you’re too busy to even respond, inhaling your food like it was going out of style. sometimes you’re just too caught up at work to even think about taking a snack break. even if you did relax for once, someone was always bound to ask for your help because they either didn’t 1. have a clue on what to do or 2. feel like doing their job. you were truly stuck to a ball and chain because of these people.

once you finished the last bite, you didn’t have to say a thing as tsukishima took the bowl out of your hands, already thinking to wash the dishes for you later so you didn’t have to lift a finger. he placed the bowl down on the nightstand for a moment, grabbing the edge of your shared comforter, which you immediately took notice to.

“woah, woah, woah!” you exclaim and grab tsukishima’s wrist. “i’m not lying down!”

“you think just grabbing my wrist can stop me?” he snickered, harshly tugging the blanket like a magician pulling a tablecloth off the table while leaving the dishes unscathed. you plop over face first onto the bed as you try to scramble for the blanket, but fail miserably. tsukishima couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

you roll onto your back and pout over his laughter. “what’s so funny?”

“i just don’t understand why you want to stay awake so bad. you’re clearly exhausted.” tsukishima said as he gently stroked your hair, almost trying to lull you to sleep. had he scratched a certain part of your head, you would’ve been a goner and he knew it.

“because i…” you sit up, continuing to resist your inevitable slumber. “i wanna spend more time just with you. you’re too important to me.”

“you’re important to me too.” he replied. “and if you weren’t, i wouldn’t care about your health.”

you can’t help but smile at his words. curse him for caring so much, you almost want to say, but how could you? it’s not like you’d rather he didn’t give a damn at all, you would never. but still, you can’t resist wanting to lay your eyes on him as long as you humanly could.

“ass.” you say, a giggle escaping your mouth with ease.

“butt.” tsukishima grinned, leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. his kiss felt like a spell to you, and you’d be pulled in each and every time.

as you lay down now, the only source of light being the lamp on the bedside table, you find yourself starting to succumb to the sleep you fought so hard to resist. tsukishima took notice, pulling the blanket over your body and reaching his hands to scratch your head. you fell asleep within seconds, just as he predicted.

tsukishima couldn’t be mad seeing you in this state. sure, he missed you like hell all day, but watching you now, looking so peaceful, tsukishima knew this was one of his favorite sights in the world. if he could sit here and just stare at you like this all day, he would do it instantly.

“i love you, y/n.” he said, gently caressing your cheek, hoping he wouldn’t wake you up. “i know i should say it out loud more often, but i hope you know that i do. there aren’t enough words to describe the feeling, but i love you.“

even if you didn’t hear tsukishima, you could still feel his love just from him sitting beside you. you feel it when you look at his face down to when you yap your mouth off while he just listens. you would never feel this with anyone else, and you would forever try to savor it.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[theastrical]

you’re the only one who understands

what is it like to say goodbye to your partner without saying goodbye?

kaeya x reader

implied major character death, sudden death, teenage angst

notes: please listen to keshi-understand while reading this!! I promise you won’t regret it <3

it was around 7pm. sitting in front of your laptop, your eyes already red, probably from the exhaustion at your university….or maybe, the expectation to greet kaeya at this certain time, while you both have been in this long distance relationship for a while.

you texted him, expecting him to immediately reply, knowing that would happened, it’s currently evening in his area and he’s a night-owl at that, evening is his awakening if you might titled him.

“wanna facetime?”, you send him the text. you were already smiling by that time, just seeing his profile picture or his chat, makes your day…a much better hell.

i expected it, he’s online now…hmm and he’s typing! i wonder if he put my contacts exclusively outside his do not disturb notifications…well, we can wonder?

kaeya called…i guess he immediately knows it’s time, huh?

“hey..”, his voice raspy; sweet i thought. Though it’s weird that he’s tired, it’s still 9pm in his timezone.

“Why so tired”, a gap of silence, maybe he fell asleep?…or maybe his eyes are already sticky enough that it could easily closed down. “…hmm, a bit.”

“you sound raspy, ironic, you’ve always been the one to remind me to drink my water.”

“hey, even that reminder can be exhausted”. He sighs, you can imagine that he’s doing the facetime exactly in his bed, while all of his caffeine products are everywhere around the floor. Kaeya is nowhere near the word clean. He chuckles slightly, continuing his words with question. “Hey, when will you comeback?”

“i don’t know, summer break maybe?”, unsure, worried, and excited. Three emotions in combine, maybe he misses you?

“chonky misses you…and...that applies to me as well.” dang i miss chonky, his cat, his big chonky cat that always purr whenever a stranger pet him. He has no survival skill for sure.

“what? Why? you’ve always texted and facetime me as well..chonky should’ve been the only one to miss me, not you, silly.”

“i need somebody to talk to..”

“you can always text me.”

“no, like real person. Like you and me.”

“you make it complicated kae.”

“fine”, he sighs. You replied, trying your best to assure him despite how much of a bitch that sounds before. “sorry, i know you must’ve been lonely. Diluc says you’ve been bed rotting all day long.”

“Dang, he must’ve worked for you.”, he finally chuckles.

yet he continued his questions, he always been one to prey over small details.

“say, what if i’m going to another place tomorrow? Will you…just say, visit me before i leave..?”

“why not?”, he heard that word and chuckles. “Just say yes or no, please?”, with your ego out of this world, you mumble a quiet…”sigh…yes, i will..”

“then if i go tomorrow? Will you visit me?”

“where?”

“hmmm wanna make a guess?”

“Univ?”

“better”

“New job across the town?”

“even better”

“Fuck i don’t know kae..just tell me already.”

“It’s a secret, just come back already…i miss you so much.”, he chuckles while opening his camera. You can see how he smirks like a childish moron. “If you come back home, i promise i’ll let you see chonky with his tie again.”

“that’s a hard thing to resist urgh!!! Fine i’ll come back tomorrow, i think my siblings won’t mind my existence till next week. I’m free after all..” , you tell him while opening your camera as well and give him the picture of you just moving around the bedroom, you’re currently tidying up your place while in the call. “promise me you will okay? I have a surprise, you’ll love it”, he gives you the small sighting of a…present. A red box. “It’s for your late birthday, sorry i’m not much of a good boyfriend it seems”, he say that before closing down his camera and giggles like a maniac.

“you don’t have to act romantic in order to love me you know, let me thank you properly with a templated paragraph hahaha.”

“idiot.”, he replied shortly, you know he’s happy and that makes you all smiley. Your cheeks are red, yet he doesn’t seem to care for it…cause if he cares, then you would hide it from him. “I’ll end it now okay? I wanna sleep..chonky is being a rascal for making me run to catch him.” , you laugh, you know he’s tired so you just made a muffled “hmm”, before he says,

“i’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight..” he gives off a smooch and end it. You send an emoji to his chat instead. A white love emoji.

[name] 10.12pm : bye kaeya, love you.

he read it.

kaeya 10.18pm : 🤍

ring…ring…ring…

Kaeya? I’m here. Sorry i’m late…

ring…ring….

ring…ring….

kaeya?

your phone is ringing kaeya. Pick it up. I’m here, please call me back.

ring…ring…

20 miss calls from [name] 🤍

kaeya?

why are you so quiet?

It’s not like we’re distant.

i might forget to drink my water now.

I’ll miss you.

And i wish to understand you better,

before you eventually say goodnight to me.

you’ll always stay 21 forever now kae, but i’ll keep celebrating your birthday, even if nobody remembers you anymore.

notification: Today is kaeya’s 30th birthday, do you want to celebrate it? 🎉🎁

taglist: @esthelily @indarius @n0tamused @sangoqueenkoko @voidlesslove @lyralibra @eroxotckv @rikasurl @dailypenpen @daydreaming-paradies

to be included in the taglist, send me ur @ via askbox.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Can you please do anal with Klaus and Y/n

Or something like that

Maybe klaus fucks her with a vibrator up her ass

Of course if you’re uncomfortable I understand, after reading the highschool klaus I thought you might be someone who would write it

Modern!Highschool Klaus M. Pt.4

Warning: Smut! Anal sex, Squirting, Dirty talk, and tooth rotting levels of Dd/Lg sweetness from Daddy!Klaus

Masterlist

‘Okay, let’s go mail them!’ Y/n grinned, hopping up and down excitedly, somehow she was more excited about me going to Art school than I was.

‘I still don’t like that you paid for this, I-‘

‘You need to let it go Daddy, I’ve already paid for your applications and it’s only to 3 schools. All of which you’re going to get in so it’ll be worth it!’

We’ve been together for a week now and in the last week Y/n has insisted I apply to art schools that I’m never going to get into. I know that she wants me to pursue my dream but I don’t know if I can take the rejection. All of the schools I would consider going to are extremely prestigious and competitive, they also only accept 150 kids every year but she insists that I try. I agreed to 3 of the applications of which she has helped me with the past few days, my top school however I refused to even apply. The price for the application was 150 dollars and Y/n had paid for the 3 I was sending already which cost 120. I hate her spending money on me, I should be spoiling her, that’s my job as her boyfriend, then again her parents gave her money instead of caring for her so she really didn’t need me to.

‘I love how optimistic you are for me Babygirl.’ I loved that she believed in me so much, though I hated how much she doubted herself. She had gone on and on to me about how dumb she is and I assumed she was failing out of school when she has a 3.8 GPA, however I convinced her to apply to schools in the same areas as the ones I am, with any luck we will get to at least be close if not get an apartment together.

‘I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic! You’re fucking talented Daddy, they would be stupid as fuck not to pick you!’ God I love this girl.

After mailing the applications for the both of us we ended up back at my house where Y/n had been staying with me for 4 days straight now.

‘You realize it’s going to be your fourth night staying here in a row, right?’ I questioned and she looked up at me from where she had sat on my bed, pulling out her math book.

‘Yeah…?’

‘Don’t you think we should talk about that?’ I changed into a pair of sweats and removed my shirt, getting comfortable to not do anything for the rest of the night since it was Friday and we could lounge around the entire weekend.

‘Oh…um, okay. I mean, I can go. I didn’t realize that you-‘

‘What? No! Y/n, no! I mean we should talk about you bringing stuff here if you’re going to be staying from now on. I can move some stuff and you can have a couple of drawers, you can bring your shampoo and shit so you don’t keep going home to shower. The shower thing is becoming very inconvenient as I would very much like to take a shower with my girlfriend, we are doing that tomorrow whether you like it or not.’ I teased, pushing her back onto the bed and lifting her legs and wrapping them around my waist as I crawled over top of her.

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes, it is.’ Her eyebrows went up before I leaned into her neck, sucking a dark red mark onto her skin.

‘I suppose I’ll just have to get used to the idea then, won’t I?’ I grunted an affirmation while continuing to kiss her neck, trailing my hands up under her shirt. ‘We can go and I’ll pack a bag tomorrow if you’re okay with it. My parents won’t care, probably won’t even notice if I’m perfectly honest.’ She said it as if it was normal and she didn’t care but I knew deep down it bothered her a lot that her parents didn’t give a shit about her. ‘My god you’re a fucking horn dog!’ She teased, feeling my hard cock pressing against her pussy.

‘Yes, we know this. I’m a 17 year old boy, it’s common sense to assume that…I love you.’ I had previously told her that I love her in passing, teasingly but also serious however she looked at me shocked as she could feel how deeply I meant it.

‘Nik-‘

‘I love you. I’m sorry you don’t have enough people telling you that because you deserve it and it’s their loss that they don’t get to know what an amazing, generous and wonderful girl you are but I love you Y/n.’ She nodded slowly as if taking it in before a huge smile overtook her face.

‘I love you too Nik. I love you so much.’ She pulled me down to press her lips to mine hard. ‘You know what else?’ She asked against my lips and I pulled back to look at her.

‘What?’

‘I trust you.’ I felt honored by that, I know she has a hard time trusting people so to know she trusts me is a wonderful feeling.

‘I trust you too, and I would never hurt you. You’re my Princess.’ I trailed my lips down her neck, continuing to suck marks there knowing how much she loves and hates it, constantly having to cover them with makeup.

‘Maybe we try something new tonight?’

‘Mmm, like what?’ We’d only been together a week but we’d proved to be a very horny and adventurous couple. I couldn’t imagine what she meant by that.

‘Like maybe another hole?’ She whispered as I continued sucking on her skin until my brain caught up to her words and I pulled back, looking down at her in shock.

‘Really? You-you want to-I would need to stretch you out first.’ She shook her head, taking my hand and bringing it down to her pussy, my fingers grazing something against her asshole and I quickly realized something was already stretching her little hole out for me. ‘Fuck!’ I practically ripped her shorts and panties from her body to see the green jewel on the end of the butt plug that she knew was my favorite color. ‘You’re so fucking perfect, you know that? Are…are you sure?’ She nodded, grinning excitedly and I didn’t need to ask again, pulling my sweats and boxers down before moving to grab the lube I had in my drawer. I placed the bottle beside me before leaning down, ready to shove my face into her cunt when she pulled on my hair.

‘If you want to do that later, fine, but I have had a butt plug in my ass for almost 2 hours, and I’m already dripping. If you don’t fuck me now, I swear to God, someone is going to!’ Her tone was playful but I could tell how serious she really was and I growled, pulling the green jewel from her ass and hearing her whimper as it popped free.

‘Fuck!’ I cursed, seeing her hole open slightly and quickly squirting the bottle on my fingers, pushing them into her and feeling how tight she still was before practically filling my hand with it and lathering my cock in the slick substance. ‘You tell me to stop and I will, okay?’ She nodded firmly, determination covering her face as I lined my cock up with her hole and began pushing in, hissing at the tight squeeze. I had thought her pussy would kill me when I fucked her the first time, and now as I pushed all the way into her hole I’m thinking I may be reincarnated during this she’s so damn tight. ‘GodDammit! How many times have you done this?! Fuck you’re tight!’

‘Never…’ she whimpered and I froze, looking down at her in shock. I had just assumed, clearly incorrectly, that she had tried everything with James…and here I am in her ass for the first time.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that-‘

‘Don’t make it a big deal, I never trusted him…I love you Nik.’

I just stared at her for a moment in shock. It was one of the very few times she didn’t call me “Daddy” while I’m inside of her and it gave me butterflies in my stomach. ‘Y/n, I…my God Princess, I love you so fucking much!’ I leaned down to press my lips to hers and as I did we both cried out at the pressure.

‘I wish it had always been you, wish I could have given you my virginity-‘ I covered her mouth with my hand, resting my forehead onto hers as I took a deep breath.

‘You’ve given me everything that means anything Y/n, virginity is a fake construct created by men to shame women. You’ve given me your love and trust, your body is just a plus…a fantastic plus that I’m deeply in love with-‘ she smacked my ass as I teased her and made her giggle which only made me grunt as she squeezed my cock when she laughed. ‘Okay. Breathe.’ She nodded as I leaned on my arms and pulled back out of her, pushing back in again and not being able to stop the smile as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful.’ I pushed back in 2 more times before speeding my pace up a bit as she began to start moving as well, relaxing under me as she grew used to the new feeling and wrapped her arms around my neck.

‘Yes Daddy! Your cock feels so good! Ahh!’ I knew I wasn’t going to last long and I was determined to make her cum before I did, also knowing we would definitely be doing this again.

‘Are you gonna cum for Daddy, Princess? You gonna cum from Daddy fucking this tight little hole?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Yeah? Daddy’s fucking your tiny babyhole right now, I know that makes you want to cum! You need it!’ My hands gripped her thighs and lifted her legs up, pushing them onto my shoulders and she wailed! I shoved into her once more before her back arched and she squirt all over my lower body and the blanket which was the single sexiest thing I believe I had ever fucking seen and not a second later I was cumming right along side her, filling her asshole as full as I possibly could, crashing our lips together as we came.

I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed in that position, unable to move until I felt her shiver against me. Being covered in cum in a basement with the air conditioner on is a bad combination, however I keep it on almost always as Y/n likes to sleep in the cold and be able to snuggle into my warm body under heavy, fuzzy blankets. It makes me feel like I’m in the arctic sometimes but I like how happy she is when we cuddle under 6 Sherpa blankets with a heavy comforter on top.

‘Hold on gorgeous, hold on.’ I pulled myself out of her gently and moved to the bathroom, washing my cock off from the pint of lube and cum before getting a wet cloth. I grabbed 2 pairs of my boxers and 2 shirts before quickly cleaning her off as well.

‘Don’t feel gorgeous, feel sticky.’ She mumbled, grimacing as I wiped her thighs, before sighing.

‘Well you are, gorgeous as always. Daddy’s perfect Babygirl. You’re the most perfect girl that’s ever walked this earth and I am the luckiest man in existence that you’ve decided that I am worthy of getting to love you.’ Her face blushed a deep red and I loved seeing how flustered she got when I said things like that. She deserved all the love in the world and for some reason she had never gotten any until me, so I will be making sure she knows how perfect she is every chance I get. ‘How do you feel? I didn’t harm you, did I?’ I wondered, lifting her legs and maneuvering the boxers up her body to cover her before sitting her up and pulling the shirt over her arms and head.

‘No Nik, I’m okay. A little sore but totally fine, wonderful, absolutely perfect! My Daddy made me feel so good! I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before.’

‘Well that’s good, because you squirt all over me.’ I smiled, kissing her nose before seeing her eyes widen and quickly pressed our lips together before she could do something stupid like apologize to me. ‘It was hot, I would say the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen but I think watching my cock push into your asshole has to be the sexiest thing.’ I brushed her hair out with the brush on the bedside table before putting it up for her and removing the damp blanket on top of the bed that we had been on, laying a new one on top and crawling in beside her.

‘I love you Daddy…promise me we’re going to be together forever.’

I pulled her close, resting her head on my chest and kissed her head, my hand rubbing up her back. ‘I promise Baby, it’s you and me, Always and Forever.’

4 Months Later

���Nik! Where are you?!’ I heard Y/n call from the front door. She had officially moved in a week after moving her stuff into my room and after seeing how much of an effect she had on me my mother didn’t mind at all, loving my girlfriend like her own child nearly instantaneously.

‘Kitchen with Elijah and Kol!’ I shouted back, pulling the potatoes out of the oven and finishing playing up our dinner for the night before my brothers tore into the rest.

‘Hey.’ She greeted, pulling me close and kissing me excitedly. ‘I have something for you.’ She told me, holding up a letter.

We had gotten all of our college letters back last week and surprisingly I had been accepted to all of them like she said I would and we had decided on Columbia university. It had an amazing arts program and she was accepted to a school not far, but as she seemed to be holding up a college admissions letter I was confused.

‘What’s this? I got all my school letters back.’ I said just as Rebekah walked in, hugging Y/n in greeting, they had become very good friends despite my pleading them not to.

‘What’s this about school? I thought you got accepted.’

‘I did…what did you do?’ I questioned her and now everyone was looking at us.

‘Well you adamantly refused to apply to the school you wanted to go to most of all and so I paid to get the admissions forms and forged your application. All I had to do was fill in your information and make a portfolio of 20 of your most recent pieces. I picked my favorites…I used my painting as well.’ She blushed and I just stared at her for a moment.

‘That cost $150 Y/n! I told you I didn’t want to do that and you picked paintings I didn’t want to use on top of that?! Why would you-‘ I huffed out a sigh, running my fingers through my hair and turning away to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

‘Rhode Island School of Design.’ Elijah read, having taken it from her.

‘He’s afraid he won’t get into his dream school so he pretended that the price was the reason he didn’t apply.’ She told him and I turned around, glaring.

‘You Spent $150 Dollars On Me For A Rejection Letter!’ She flinched and I instantly relaxed my body as much as I could, never wanting her to be afraid of me. ‘Why would you do this? I told you I wasn’t going to apply and you fought for it but I still said ‘no’. Why would-‘

‘You’ve been accepted.’ Elijah spoke and I spun to look at him, staring for about 5 seconds before snatching the letter and reading over it to see that he was right. It read that they were impressed with my assortment of unique art pieces.

‘I got accepted to a college about 5 miles away if that’s any help in making your decision for-‘ I cut her off by shoving my lips to hers roughly and hugging her to my body, face in my neck.

‘I’m so sorry. Thank you Y/n. Thank you!’ I took hold of her face in my hands and felt like I fell in love with her smiling face all over again. ‘You believed in me when I didn’t, this whole time. I still don’t like you spending money on me but…thank you. Looks like we’re going to Rhode Island next year.’

‘Damn straight Art Nerd, you ain’t goin’ without me! All those art nerd girls, can’t have you being stolen away.’ She teased.

‘Not a chance in Hell Princess. You’re mine. Always and Forever.’

[seikkoi]

ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ | ᴛᴏɴʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

18+ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

content/warnings: named reader, explicit sexual content (very end), alcohol consumption, mentions of financial issues, employer/employee relations, explicit mentions of mental health issues (reader has the anxieties™), mentions of physical injuries, set in canon universe before aou.

genre: mostly angst ngl, sm*t at the very very end

word count: 7,463 im sorry

a/n: lightly inspired by the song 'october' by rothstein

dedicated to: the lovely @alessandraavengers

"Maybe you should worry about yourself, Stark. I've been doing just fine before you decided to make my job your business."  Tony's jaw clenches, and a shaky hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.  “My business is your job."

I won't complain,

I will be decent, 

though it will be freezing,

I welcome the rain.

The hands of the clock on the wall ticked silently, a sign of the building’s expense. You clutched a leather binder filled with papers in your lap as you sat. Everything you had to show for the last seven years of your life. Countless awards, certificates, recommendations—the expensive bachelor's and the bank account-draining master’s. Your leg bounced on the dark mahogany, steadily increasing frequency as seconds turned into minutes.

Ironically, this would also be interview number seven. For the job you were least qualified for. You applied for close to twenty at this point, all well below your skill, but you were desperate. You had barely a year of experience—quitting your first job one year out of school after one-too-many sixty hour work weeks. The moment you turned in your resignation, dread and regret over your choice in profession filled you. It held you down, sleeping and rotting the days away. Eventually, reality set in, pulled you out of bed and back into the corporate world. 

Turns out, lack of experience and ‘quitting with notice’ is less than ideal.

You hoped a step down in prestige would result in less stress. All your fantasies of a top floor corner office and luxury disappeared like ash under a light rain. You always held expensive tastes that you couldn’t sustain unemployed.  But the stress wasn’t worth it. All you needed now was to pay the bills. Too quickly ‘over-qualified’ or ‘under-experienced’ became your least favorite words. You had to fight back the dread every time you checked your email. 

Just when you’d started pondering entry-level positions, a notification came through for a new vacancy ‘Fit for your skillset!’. To your dismay, the description sounded no different than the job you left. More grueling expectations and personal sacrifice. On top of that, you still were under-experienced by their requirements. Not to mention who it was for. Overworked employees typically miss most current events, but far too much has been going on with this company to make even you pay attention. Working for such a high-profile, drama-ridden company might be even worse.  But after weeks and not so much as an offer letter, you had to try anything. On the plus side, at least it paid well.

Three days later, you found yourself inside of Stark Tower, wishing the silent clock would move faster.

Square breathes, internal mantras—nothing worked. Your heels still made a gentle clack against the floor. Thankfully, the general noise of the front lobby kept it from being a nuisance. 

What you swear is eons later, your ears prick up to a similar click growing near you. You turn your head as a tall blonde approaches the small waiting area. She stops at the front desk a moment, making your heart skip a beat when the receptionist points to you. 

‘Just relax, you know what to say.’ you thought to yourself. ‘They won’t hire you if you’re a nervous wreck.’

You manage to muster what little confidence you had left after weeks of rejection to stand and straighten your dress as she greets you. Thankfully, the smile she extends is friendly enough. The hand you feel is soft and manicured too— acute tells of an easy life.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Potts, I’ll be bringing you up to meet Mr. Stark.” she says, turning and heading further into the lobby.

‘Maybe this won’t be too hard. Maybe this job won’t be like the last.’

-

During the entire elevator ride to Mr. Stark’s office, Ms. Potts spews out factoids about Stark Industries but you’re too busy rethinking your entire interview strategy. Something about a cave, Obadiah Stane and a wormhole whizzes through your ear to no reaction. It was nothing you hadn’t already read in the weekly papers, nor did it ease you one bit. 

You were even more taken aback when you realize you’re descending, and the silver doors open to a spacious garage. The faint sound of movement echoes, source unseen. You turn to Miss Potts, who only gives another pleasant smile and gestures into the concrete space.

Sure, the whole world knew Tony Stark was a bit eccentric. You knew that well enough when you applied. Hell, it probably explained the vacancy. Maybe this was some type of strategy, or just his nature. Either way, something was screaming at you to tell Miss Potts you had changed your mind, go home and apply for anything else. 

Then, you remembered how badly you wanted success. You couldn’t accept anything less.

The elevator closed quietly behind you as you exited, looking for the source of the noise. There’s cars (some ridiculously new and some pathetically old), studded workbenches, and chaotic piles of robotics and machinery strewn about. You have to round the corner to find him, behind a small bar tucked away from the metal mess everywhere else. 

He’s turned away from you, seated at the bar with eyes glued on a few papers before him. An ornate pen signs away without pause. You’re certain the sound of your heels against the floor gave you away, but you’re sure to clear your throat to not shock him. 

Mr. Stark, clad in a grease-stained white tee and dark denim, shifts in the barstool slightly to give you a cursory look. You can tell immediately his mind is lightyears away from the present situation, focused elsewhere. On a lighter note, you notice how much kinder he looks in person. All the magazines and op-eds made his face harsh, never smiling. 

“You’re the one who applied for assistant thingy right? Miss…” Stark trails off, scanning back through the papers in front of him. There’s a slight slur in his speech, one that forces you to remember the early hour.

“Cassian.” you interrupt his search and he laughs, abandoning the papers for a shiny glass on the counter.

He brings the amber liquid to his lips before he speaks again. 

“Right, Cassian, look—” The glass finds its way back to the solid surface despite his sway. He stands once it does, facing you with a wide smile. “You’re hired!” 

With that, you’re left more dumbfounded, staring at the billionaire as he sauntered over to one of the cluttered workbenches. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I really don’t understand—” You turn towards him as he walks by, not sparing you another glance.

When he reaches the middle of the garage, he lets out an exhausted sigh. The familiar regret seeps in, turning your nerves up another notch.

“The woman that probably brought you here—Pepper, she used to be my assistant, and handle all the tabloid bullsuit.” he mutters, fiddling with a wrench from the bench. 

“After the whole ‘tower nearly blowing up’ situation, she’s taken a step uh-out of my life. For better or worse. I didn’t wanna hire anyone else, she’s convinced I can’t manage my own life— we compromised.”

You start to speak, trying to formulate the right words to say. Stark pays it no mind, tossing the wrench back down gently.

He pivots towards you, and you see the stress in his eyes. You can see why she’d quit-hell you were starting to wish you never applied. The name ‘Stark’ proliferated in the papers these days.

“Offer letter is signed, on the bar, job’s there if you want it.” With that, he walks across the garage, past you into the elevator. 

The electronic ding! sounds, leaving you in the garage alone without another word. You’re convinced this is a terrible idea- even before whatever that just was.

Something sparks your curiosity to look at the signed papers, and put a dollar amount to this madness. You walk back to the bar, grabbing the stack of papers with a faint ring of water in the corner.

You’re certain you’re dreaming when you count the number of zeros. 

THREE WEEKS LATER

You were ready for retirement at the ripe age of twenty-six.

This was a new type of demand. Running nearly every aspect of Tony Stark’s life didn’t eat your soul, but it ate at your mind. You could spin embezzlement or drunk-driving into a heartwarming story- alien attacks and Hydra were a whole new ballpark. 

It was almost refreshing. Spinning stories for shitty people and tailoring public statements for the goal of maximum human exploitation never quite sat right with you. Handling Stark’s life just felt like defending someone who deserved it. It felt more honorable working for him than a greedy tech firm.  (There are some questionable times when he doesn’t, but you don’t bother with those).

The righteousness helped the uncharted territory be more than manageable. Still, making Stark’s technology enterprise mesh well with his role as Iron Man felt like a hero’s feat on its own. The media would come up with any number of wild conspiracies about Iron Man, most of them disparaging to his image. 

Stark was legitimately aiming for good things in the world. The weariness in your bones kept you craving more simplicity and ease, nonetheless.

You sunk down into the leather couch of the conference room, watching as the board members filed out in quick order. The room was filled with the golden ray of sunset— soon to turn pitch black. 

Officially done with the day’s meetings, you forgo any workplace formalities and kick off your heels, despite your boss’s presence. 

A light chuckle at your exhaustion breaks the silence, Stark slumping into the empty space beside you. You raise an eyebrow when he wriggles at the lavish tie around his neck, tossing the garment to the floor next to your heels. 

“What, you can kick back but I can’t?” he jests, undoing the top two buttons of his black dress shirt. 

You give a ‘fair enough’ shrug, leaning back to start mentally processing the last ten hours.

You found yourself staring at his exposed neck as your mind trailed off, his head leaned back, eyes shut. His jaw is tight, forehead pinch in a now-familiar focus. Stark looked nearly as drained as you, still you knew better than to try and equate things. Honestly, you considered yourself semi-lucky to only have to make things look nice for the cameras and not be present for them. In the evening glow, though, he looks close to ethereal.

You shift your eyes at the thought.

You two sit in comfortable silence as the sun moves behind the New York city skyline. 

You’re doing mental math on how soon you can retire when he fills the void with a question.

“Regret taking the job?” he asks, unmoving. 

You add ‘potential mind reader’  to his list of skills. 

“Some parts are better than others.” It’s as honest of an answer you can give without sounding ungrateful for the opportunity (or thinking about the alluring glow on his skin).

He laughs again, turning to meet your eyes. This would mark the first time you’re under a heat lamp from his gaze, irises tired and alluring. 

“Seriously,” 

Clearly your answer isn’t convincing, because he turns to his side on the couch to fully face you. 

“You aren’t regretting this? Because lately you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” he says with a lazy grin.

You thought you were doing a good job of burying your issues beneath walls of smiles. Hearing otherwise hurts your resolve a bit, especially from Stark. He had enough on his plate without worrying about you.

“It’s just…a lot,” 

Despite how you felt, you couldn’t lie about it, not to his face. 

“But it’s not your fault, it’s not you.” you swiftly add upon seeing his somber grin fade away.

“Ha, isn’t it though?” A dramatic sigh escapes his mouth like a deflated balloon, running his hands through messy brown locks. “This..rollercoaster I’ve put myself on.” 

“Rollercoasters can be fun.” 

“You hate it.” Stark faces you once more, propping his arm up on the back of the couch. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you quit.”

The suggestion pulls a laugh of your own. “I don’t think that’s an option.”

Stark makes a genuinely puzzled face, to which you spend the next minute or two explaining why you quit your first job, the weeks you spent rotting away after. You had hoped to never recount such a sad time outloud, but you couldn’t stand him feeling at fault for your lack of enthusiasm. 

Ease passes through you when it seems to comfort him a bit.

“Maybe I hire you for something else, maybe pay you to not deal with this shit.” he says, laughing.

You brush off his joke with another short laugh. “Wouldn’t that be something? Really, it’s fine. Just need a long hot shower.”

You start to stand, but are stopped when a hand graces your thigh. 

“No jokes, I know what it’s like to get more than you signed up for. If money’s all that’s keeping you here, trust me that’s not an issue.”

You give a flustered smile, trying not to focus on how warm his hand was. 

“It’s not all that’s keeping me here.”

TWO MONTHS LATER

“You know it’s just a dinner, right? Like just food, maybe music, high probability of dessert?” Stark taunts, noticing your trembling leg from behind his phone screen.

The car seems like it’s moving way too fast, even though you can very clearly see the speedometer under 25 miles per hour. 

“Yes, I know what dinner is.” 

You let out a deep sigh, trying to regain the ground under your feet. The part Stark conveniently forgets is that it is a very large gala he’s dragged you along to, and not just a normal dinner. You can do normal dinner, not a one hundred plus person dinner with reporters and red carpet. He’s also not considering the part where he didn’t tell you about it until two hours ago.

“Oh, that’s a relief, thought you might jump out the window.” he pockets his phone, turning to you. “I can just have Happy take you home, you know.”

“No, no, this is…excitement. I’m excited. Totally ready.” you’re really trying to convince yourself, but it only makes Tony snicker.

“These things are really boring, promise. That’s why you’re here, keep me from falling asleep.” 

Out the window, the street lights start to turn back into normal orbs instead of blurry splotches. The car pulls up the curb with enough ease for you to take in the venue. It's a marble hall, one you feel suddenly underdressed for. You make a mental note to tell Stark never to give you this little notice again. Perhaps you should save yourself the trouble and head home. 

Stark could behave himself, right? 

The black window tinting your view disappears when the door is pulled open. You hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore, now holding the door and gesturing to the entrance. You get your first good look at the suit he’s wearing, tailored and jet-black. The flattering seams are a decent enough distraction to join him on the sidewalk. 

Stark places both hands on either of your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. 

“You look amazing, I look amazing, please stop worrying. It’s starting to spread and I can’t eat on an upset stomach.” he forces himself into your gaze, searching your face for the supposed ‘excitement’.

A deep breath, then a second passes through you, staring at Stark's eyes until you can manage a curt nod and still legs.

“See, you’re gonna be just fine.” he exclaims, dropping the hands from your shoulders and already smiling for the line of photographers waiting by the door. 

You follow unsteadily, praying this is a speedy event. You could do this for an hour, maybe two. Stark takes notice of your delay, turning back to you just before reaching the first nerdy cameraman.

“Hey, what’s the issue with this? If your not comfortable with the cameras, you know we can just go around—”

“It’s not that,” you interrupt, gripping your clutch with sweaty palms. 

“Then what?” he asks sympathetically.

“There’s like a hundred people in there, Stark.” you admit with a long sigh.

“And I’m one of them, what’s the worst that can happen if you're with me?” He turns and props his arm out towards you. “Miss Cassian?” he says, dragging out your name.

You want to roll your eyes at his constant unserious nature, but instead you take another deep breath, loop your arm through his, letting your fingers wrap around the satiny fabric on his bicep before taking slow steps forward.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Bright bulbs of light flickering in blinding succession. In every direction, microphones with human mouthpieces spew their hurried questions. Your boss answers in his typical Stark way, earning only more adoration and curiosity. You come to humor yourself with the questions they ask. Always seemingly random, from his favorite brand of whiskey to his opinion on migrant detainment in the Mediterranean. 

You stand to the right as he smiles and poses for them. You almost hate how good he looks in the cold wind, face most definitely beaming behind designer snow-white frames. Outside of that, you admire his patience, knowing this winter vacation (where he didn’t have to be Iron Man for once) was leaked and now semi-ruined.

It would’ve been a well needed break for you as well. Three months of non-stop press releases, conferences, and meetings were wearing you ragged. Late nights were occupied with drafting memos and wishing you chose a career with less work. While you hated the time work took away, you unfortunately began to admire the work you did. Working for Stark turned out to be more desirable than you thought. You imagined dealing with another frustrating, reckless CEO- not a charming, witty superhero. Regardless of the long hours and chaos, you loved helping put more good into the world. 

Finally, as snow starts to fall, he answers a final question on if he’ll change the color of his suit before turning to enter the cabin.

“Mr. Stark— Iron Man, won’t be taking any more questions, excuse me, thank you.” 

You tried to squeeze past incessant reporters and fans, barely making it through the hotel front door if it weren’t for security. The commotion outdoors gets muffled by the tall wooden doors. You sigh and lean against them, shutting your eyes for a moment.

“Feeling alright, Cassie?” 

Stark’s voice makes you open your eyes to see him standing in the foyer. This would be the fourth time you feel his eyes burning through your skin. You expected him not to be upstairs in bed, asleep already, not in front of you, eyeing you with his hands buried in his pockets. 

The place he chose spared little expense, clearly for starlets like Stark looking for a lush, woodsy escape. Wooden walls covered every inch, adorned with fancy art and a modern fireplace in the living room.  The color reminds you of the tower lobby, a deep mahogany. 

“Yeah, just remind me why I’m here and not at home in my heated apartment.” You keep your voice light as you hang your coat on the rack by the door. 

Stark gives a playful scoff, too used to your sarcasm to take offense. 

“A certain former assistant thinks I need a babysitter on my own vacation.” He turns on his heels, heading towards the kitchen with a renewed energy (surely only now remembering he’s supposed to be relaxing). 

“She’s not wrong.” you agree only because Stark re-emerges from the kitchen with a tall amber colored bottle and two glasses. 

You can’t help rolling your eyes at his stiffened jazz hands, tossing yourself onto the plush armchair by the fireplace. The cold seemed to wrap itself around you, not leaving despite your proximity to the fire. Stark chose to sit on the side table next to you, rather than the wide array of more comfortable seating options. You’d gotten used to him entering your personal space since your talk in the conference room. You took it as a sign of his narcissism more than anything.

“Not sure I’m meant to be a drunk babysitter, Mr. Stark, ” you quip as he starts pouring.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he winks, offering you one. “And come on with the ‘mister’—making me feel old over here.”

It’s bothersome how little he has to say to change your mood. Something about being with just him, away from press, deadlines or state secrets, pulled you in and kept you coming to work everyday. In this moment, however, his solitary presence made you anxious. You’d have to get through this sabbatical without the chaos of the world bringing you back to reality. The real world, littered with expectations.

Free of any reason to decline, you take the glass. You and Tony do a lazy toast, clicking the glasses together before taking a sip. The peaceful quiet envelopes the cabin, save for the crackle of the fireplace. 

“You okay?” you ask upon seeing the weariness in his face, contrasting the grin he held.

“Better than okay,” he finishes the rest of his drink, pouring another faster than you take a second sip. “Happy to be away from everything, ‘get in touch with the great outdoors!’ as they say.” 

You laugh at the dramatic mocking tone he uses, extending your arm out when he makes a gesture at your empty glass. 

“I hope your atleast being slightly genuine, Mr. Stark.” you say once the glass is full once more.

“When am I ever not, Miss Cassian.” he draws on your name with the same mocking pitch as before.

You fake a wince at the taste of your own medicine, which amuses the hell of the already tipsy Stark. 

“I see what you mean, felt fifteen years added on instantly with that,” you admit, chuckling at his demeanor. 

“Hence why I’m such a nice guy and call you Cassie like a normal person,” he states smugly, taking another sip from his glass.

“Oh really, Tony? ‘Cause you only gave me that nickname after I explicitly told you no one ever calls me that.” you laugh.

“Yes and that was a great loss to the universe that I fixed,” Tony turns his head to meet your gaze, eyes sparkling (you tell yourself it’s just the alcohol and nothing else).

The both of you stay there silent, eyes locked for what quickly becomes far too long and the awkwardness makes your attention back to your drink. You finish the contents, hoping that the liquid would cool your now burning skin. 

You internally remind yourself that this is just how he is- a playboy philanthropist turned charming hero, nothing else. 

“Sorry, I know this isn’t really much of a vacation for you. ‘Know you wanna be at home, away from Stark Industries,” he deflates a bit, pouring a third drink.

“No, it’s not like that,” you interject, speaking softly, “I really don’t mind being here, and it’s still a good break from meetings and all that other tedious shit.” 

He takes a sip, seemingly mulling over your words. “Give any more thought to my offer?”

You let out a small laugh, thrown off by his sudden mention of it. You were certain then that he wasn’t being anything near serious. 

“What, you paying me to not be here? I didn’t think that was you being serious.”

“It’s a win-win, no? You get a salary, I don’t have to drag you along for this rollercoaster, Pepper doesn’t worry, everyone’s happy.” 

Clearly you’re left silent for too long, because Tony stands before he speaks again. He seems conflicted, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Look, I don’t need to see you miserable, I guess.”

“What, who said I was miserable?”

“Anyone would be dealing with me.” 

TWO DAYS LATER

After a few days, an air of melancholy had hung over you. Two days of nothing turned into endless overthinking about your life. Every decision made seemed to rattle in your bones, looking for a place to be. You tried to tell yourself it was normal to feel lost, to feel as though everything you’ve ever done was pointless. This was the first time you’d had room to think, of course everything would be overwhelming.

That didn’t help, but whatever red wine Tony brought did. 

You found it on night two, cracking open the second bottle when Tony comes downstairs. You gave a sluggish hey that gave away your state immediately, but you were too absorbed in your thoughts to meet his eyes. 

“Didn’t take you for a wine connoisseur.” he mutters, sitting in the chair across from you. 

You don’t bother with a response. In fact, you wished that he’d go away. Seeing Tony lately just reminded you more of the life you were sure you wouldn’t have. You were certain you made all the wrong choices, took all the wrong paths.

“Cassian?” he leans forward, forcing his face into your point of view. “Kinda' freaking me out here.”

“You ever think about what your life would be like if you weren’t,” you trail off for a moment, slurring slightly. “I don’t know—you?”

He laughs and it feels infectious, closing your eyes to hopefully shut up the twist in your stomach.

“Me, specifically? Who knows? Maybe I’d be a pilot, or own a hotdog stand.” he goes silent at your lack of reaction to his joke, resting his chin against his hands.

“Why, thinking about faking your death and adopting a new identity?”

The red liquid in your glass coats your dry throat. You’d love to start over. Go back and see what the other paths held. Then, the deep pit of your stomach turns, remembering how different and worthwhile working for Stark made you feel.

“What if I did everything wrong?” you ask quietly.

If you did, a small part of the anxiety in your gut assures you that it was worth it to find your way to him.

“Define ‘wrong’.”

“Not what I imagined, I guess”

To help someone who wanted to do so much to help the world.

“Well, what do you want from life?”

You go silent again. “I don’t know.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

With nothing to prove you,

and if I should lose you

—It won't be in vain.

On the last day at the cabin, you feel a genuine sense of sadness at the thought of leaving. 

Fourteen days with no reminder of the outside world had you the most relaxed in years. Bliss was all you felt waking up each morning to no phone calls, no emergencies, and no meetings. You forgot what it was like to just exist, to not have your thoughts bogged down by deadlines. You had even forgotten the benefits of good company. The demanding nature of your job meant little social life, and you didn’t realize until nearly two days in that you had been craving it. What surprised you more was that you received that good company in the form of your boss. Tony seemed to go out of his way to fill any voids of silence with quips and self-deprecating jokes to make you laugh. Clearly to spare himself the awkwardness of your dissatisfaction. 

Nothing changed about personality, but removing the dark shadow of responsibility made him visibly less wound up. It must have done the same for you, because you spent most of these last two weeks laughing (or catching up on well-needed sleep). You tried to avoid him lately, not wanting to add fuel to the fire you could feel growing for him. Opting for weeks of solitude with him was possibly not the wisest route.

Retroactively, if you had all this sudden free time at home alone, you probably would’ve gone a little crazy. 

You must be wearing your solace on your face, because that night, during dinner, Stark asks if something is wrong.

“Is it a bad thing if I don't want to go back to New York?” you chuckle at your own absurdity, scraping the last bits of food into the trash.

“Is it worse if I agree?” he smiles, looking up from his own plate. 

“Not excited to go back to being an Avenger?” you ask honestly, sitting back down at the kitchen table, next to him.

“Ha, excited’s the wrong word.” he sits back in his chair, letting out a sigh. “You’re not jumping to get back out there either.”

You give an agreeing nod, resting your head in your hands when you start mentally going through all the tasks waiting for you tomorrow. 

“You don’t have to go back like I do. You can get away from all this.”

When you look up, Tony’s eyes are glued to the floor. 

“You know, you can just fire me if it’s that much of a bother to you.” you say sharply. 

Truthfully, it was starting to come off as a subtle hint to leave rather than concern. It muddied whatever imaginary connection you maybe thought you’d fostered over these last few weeks. All the little touches and extra concern bounced around in the back of your head like a live grenade. You didn’t know how much of it was aimed towards you, or just his charismatic nature. Maybe there was never any charisma, and he was the same as any other CEO.

“Cassie, that’s the last thing I want.” he says, like he’s offended, and you want to laugh at the audacity.

“Could’ve fooled me.” you retort, standing to exit the kitchen.

Tony intercepts you at the doorway, however, clearly scrambling for words to ease the newly-created tension. All it really does is annoy you more, seeing those brown eyes pleading silently. Either way, you can’t get past. 

“I—This is too much for anyone to handle. I can barely handle it and that’s because you do so much behind-the-scenes for me. A lot of people have reached their wits end with me and I don’t want that with you.”

It sounds painful for him to say, and despite his soft tone, it’s the most serious you’ve ever heard him be.

“I think you’re worried a bit too—”

“I’d rather not be the reason you spend weeks in bed, okay?” 

Frozen in the doorway, your anger still boils. It felt like the thing you were most ashamed about being thrown in your face. You want to go back to that conference room and never tell him a thing. It’d save you the confusion, save you from all the mixed signals. He couldn’t mean it. You remember the way he reluctantly submitted to Pepper and hired you. Tony didn’t care, he never wanted you here in the first place. You felt stupid for thinking anything else.

"Maybe you should worry about yourself, Stark. I've been doing just fine before you decided to make my job your business." 

Tony's jaw clenches, and a shaky hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. 

“My business is your job, can’t you see I’m trying to be supportive?” 

You almost start to regret your words, but you can’t stand the way he looks at you like some fragile thing. 

For the fifth time, you're hot under his gaze, but it does nothing besides flare your anger more.

“I don’t need your support, stop acting like you have any idea what’s best for me.” you snap, taking a step closer.

To your surprise, Tony closes the remaining distance, and you have to look up to maintain your glare. Tony's expression shifts from concern to frustration, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Clearly, you don’t even know what’s best for you. Forgive me for giving a damn.” he scoffs.

You roll your eyes, deciding to just put an end to this conversation. In his frustration, Tony left a wide enough gap for you to try and snake through. Your heated exit must’ve been obvious, because he steps back to keep you in front of him.

“Seriously?” your fists clench at your sides, heat spreading up your arms to your cheeks. 

“Why are you still here?” he softens a bit, but not entirely folding his arms over his chest.

It’s not enough though— your irritation is unchanging even under his tender gaze.  It was easier to stay angry and pretend like he wasn’t the only thing keeping you. To not admit that you didn’t want to abandon him.

“Why’d you bring me here?” you retort through gritted teeth, motioning at the logged walls around you.

“Damn it, I thought it’d help, Cassie!”

The severity of his words leaves you speechless. You never heard him really raise his voice, let alone come close to yelling.

“But, clearly, I shouldn’t have bothered.” Tony moves from the doorway, taking fast steps past you towards the main door before you can say anything.

In an effort to keep him from storming out, you reach out for his arm as he brushes by. Instantly, he pulls away as if you're made of open flames. You try to show the hurt on your face, but now that your anger has started to dissipate, you notice a similar transformation in Tony. To your benefit, though, it keeps his feet firmly planted. 

“I’m not some broken person you need to protect.” you admit, avoiding the potential anger still in his eyes. 

“Wow, really? Didn’t know.” 

Always with the jokes and sarcasm. You lift your head to Tony’s expectant gaze, causing you to sigh heavily.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he states dryly, leaning back against the kitchen table. “Why are you still here?”

“You keep assuming I hate my life.” 

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, rather dramatically in your opinion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” he responds, mocking your words from earlier. “You avoid me like the plague lately, and I don’t know how you expect me to just see you unhappy and say nothing”

“That has nothing to do with work-��

“Then what is it?” 

There’s something else in his eyes, something like the sparkle you saw all those months ago. 

You look at him with pleading eyes of your own. A sense of entrapment overwhelms you, stuck with the choice between potentially ruining everything or, well, still potentially ruining everything. You wish he really could just read your mind and understand. Understand that you didn’t want to leave him, that you were avoiding him to protect your own, admittedly fragile, heart. 

"Can't you just accept that I don't want to leave?" you manage, your voice barely louder than a pin drop.

Your heart flutters as he steps closer, though it shouldn't surprise you; he's never been one to respect personal space, and an argument wouldn't change that.

"No, I need to hear you say it," his tone is low, almost taunting, and his unyielding gaze sends another wave of fluttering through you.

"I don't want to leave you."

In the next second, Tony's lips crash against yours, pinning your back to the wall with a heavy thud. You don’t notice, the world fading with the taste of vanilla on your tongue and the scratch of his beard on your chin. Your thoughts become a blur as Tony's teeth graze your lips, and his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer, the arc reactor pressing into your skin. 

When the kiss ends, you're both left panting, yet he still clings to you, gripping your waist like he’s scared you’re going to run away. 

“I told you- the last thing I want is for you to leave.” he says sternly, voice still low. You can’t see his face, buried in the crook of your neck, but the heavy breath on your skin makes you lightheaded.

“Tony-”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s wrong to think I know what’s best for you. I just want you to be happy.” 

“I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I care about you too much for that, Cassie.”

“I’m your assistant, Tony.”

Tony gently cups a hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his, his thumb caressing your cheek. He studies your face intently, searching for any signs that he should stop while he's ahead. You stopped counting how often he leaves you a mess with his eyes, and try your best not to stare at his swollen lips.

“Then tell me you don’t feel the same.” he whispers.

A beat of silence passes, the fire crackling in the next room uninterrupted. 

“I…can’t.” you answer hesitantly.

The confession hangs heavy in the cabin’s stagnant air. Your mind racing a thousand miles per hour, waiting for the dream to end. 

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Doing this wrong, ruining everything.” Your eyes squeeze shut from embarrassment.

Tony laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, before kissing you again. It’s soft and slower than before, calloused hands still cupping your face.

“I think you’re the one who worries too much. When has anything bad happened to you when you’re with me?” Tony suggests, grinning, his eyes filled with warmth. 

You want to mention an office party a few months ago, where a drunk attendee threw up on your shoes, but you let him make his point. 

“Let me do the worrying for a bit, sound good?”

THREE WEEKS LATER

You felt like you traded seasons getting back to New York at the start of spring. You hadn’t gone home, instead staying in the tower at Tony’s request. You didn’t mind it at all, being surrounded with more comfort than you could ask for. 

Tony made it his personal mission to keep you away from all things work related, despite how many times you told him you enjoyed helping him. One small problem being that he left for a mission a few days ago, and you haven’t got the faintest clue where he was or when he was returning. The first day, you relished in a bit of solitude, reading books that sat on your shelf the last two years untouched or catching up with friends that you lost touch with. To your relief, most understood your reason for disconnecting, and the books were captivating. Now, however, it was day three, and you were starting to do the one thing he asked you not to— worry.

Just as the rain starts to splatter the tall windows of his penthouse, you’re considering reaching out to Fury or Hill to make sure he’s at least still breathing. The only thing that stops you is the ding! of the elevator, turning your nerves back down to zero.

When you meet him at the door, a wide smile breaks out on his face—surprised you’re still there.

“How was it?” you ask, as Tony drops his bag and moves towards you. You feel slightly awkward in this new territory with him, shifting your weight anxiously.

“We’re getting closer to the scepter. Hydra’s pulling out all the stops these days.” 

As Tony steps into the light, a deep freshly-stitched cut under his right eye comes into view. Before you can say anything about the cut, you notice the large bandage on his arm, and a matching bruise crawling up his shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” 

Tony slowly peels off his jacket, tossing it onto the couch behind you. “Oh, this? This is nothing, you should see the other guy.” he says with a flashy grin.

You’re busy scanning for more injuries, eyes raking for more bandages and stitches. Tony doesn’t let you continue for long though, taking your hands in his.

“What’d I tell you about worrying?” he teases, stroking your hair and planting a quick kiss on your lips.

You give an annoyed sigh, wishing he didn’t irritate and charm you in the same breath so much.

“I think it’s natural to worry when you’re bleeding.” you gruff, letting Tony pull you into a tight embrace. 

“Then I’m not doing my job, am I?” You don’t protest when his hands roam over your body, placing light kisses against your neck. “Let me take your mind off things.”

The light kisses on your neck turn into heavy bites, leaving marks along your collarbones. He creates his own path along your skin, sighing softly as his mouth finds every inch of skin your pajamas didn’t cover. You’re a panting mess as he trails down your body, twisting a hand into his messy locks. 

When he kneels before you, you feel unsteady on your feet. You wish you could say you two had gone this far already, but Tony considered himself a self-proclaimed gentleman and insisted you wait. It seems three days away from you was enough for the chivalry to fly out of the window. 

He stops for a moment, fingers hooked in your shorts, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the inside of your trembling thigh.

“Cassian?”

“Mhm?” You mumble, shutting your eyes. Nerves and anticipation mix terribly in your stomach, making you unable to process the desire on his face. You feel the fabric of your shorts slide down your legs with your panties. The cool air doesn’t help you any, rendering your skin sensitive and Tony’s hand feel like a furnace. 

“Relax, doll.”

You suck in a breath as his lips wrap around your clit, body stilling— the hand in his hair tightening. Weeks of Tony’s insistent waiting had you thinking your first time with him would be slower- you were ill-prepared for the way he runs through your folds with absolute filth. He moans into you, keeping a tight hold on your thighs to hold you close. 

He’s quick—grazing teeth against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance— just to drag the tip of his tongue against your length and return your clit to start the cycle all over again. You feel the wetness coating the inside of your thighs, saturing his scratchy stubble on your skin. 

You bring your free hand to the back of the couch as he continues, sighing into your core and sending shockwaves up your spine. You try to maintain some type of balance, legs growing shaky again in pleasure rather than anxiety for a change. 

“Tony, god, that’s-” You’re cut off by your own moan when you feel Tony insert a finger into your soaking cunt, rocking slowly as his mouth finds its way back to your clit.

He pulls away a moment, letting his thumb keep the pressure against your sensitive bud. Your head tilts back, nails digging into the leather behind you. Out of your view, Tony wears a smug grin, pleased to see you taking his directive to heart. The middle of the living room might not have been his first choice, but it’s well worth it. Besides the fact you taste like heaven, it’s worth hearing every sound escape your lips.

Getting caught up in that, however, caused him to loosen the grip on your thighs. When his fingers curve inside you, your hips jerk against him. The calloused fingers tighten on your legs, to your slight dismay.

“Easy, doll, I got you.” he mumbles, returning his focus to eliciting more intoxicating moans from you.

Tony renders you a complete mess sooner than you’d like to admit, gasping above him as the warmth in your core grows overwhelming. If you told yourself a year ago that your boss would have you panting and begging, you wouldn’t believe it. Regardless of belief, his tongue pulls plea after plea from you. Your stomach feels painfully coiled- mind absorbed with the wet, filthy sound of Tony’s mouth on your cunt.

With another curve of his finger, you sent over the edge—crying out Tony’s name like a prayer and abandoning the hand tangled in his hair to hold yourself up. Tony lets you ride out your orgasm against his fingers, kissing the damp skin between your legs and muttering soft praises. 

It’s not until you sense him standing again in front of you that you open your eyes. You immediately want to take it back when you see the shit-eating grin covering his shiny face. The sight sends a new wave of desire through you, staring at his mouth with your lips parted, panting softly. Did he have to look so good constantly?

“As cute as you are when you’re worried, I think I prefer this look on you.”

[williammorgan45]

You know what time it? It's Realizin' time!

Here it is! The result of the brain rot of @realizinau art and Alan Wake (I took inspiration by drawing this.The games are so cool) so here we are. It's a bit wonky but I think it's decent. Please ignore the little blue spooch on the suit. I made a boo─boo while painting :/

I'm still thinking about on how to name this guy but I have a little of his backstory on how his role would be in the Realizin' AU.

First he's a wolf if you're wondering.

Alright, now into his story: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before being put into the Bigger Bodies Initiative, he was just a child like any other with a mother and father who loved him and loved them back. But after a tragedy to both parents in a car accident, leaving him as the sole survivor of the crash, he was alone in this narrow dark place.

He was put in normal orphange just with many others parentless but he was different to other kids. Just as the kids where loud, energetic full innocence and some didn't apply to the rules he was the opposite. He was quiet, didn't move alot from his bed, his innocence gone for the result of the crash and allways following orders from the caretakers of the orphange.

Since he didn't talk to the other kids besides to the caretakers to see of he was okay and only respond with a nod, a shake or a short phrase, they began calling him names like 'the silent kid', 'downer', 'the staff's pet' and other names behind his back.

He already got used to this new 'life style' on the orphanage. Wake up, breakfast, gaze outside the window of his room, nap, lunch, more gazing outside again, dinner, sleep, repeat.

He told himself that's going to be his life until he was adopted to a new familly.

...That was the plan before him and others kids where called on the hall as their caretaker was explaning that they were getting 'relocated' to a better orphanage. He didn't understand why tho but if they where getthing relocaded to a better orphanage was probably for the best.

...Right?

Him along with other orphans entered the bus that was meant to transport them to the new orphange. The name on the side of the bus caught his attention before entering. Playtime Co. He knew that name. Tha was the name of the company who sell those toys that appered on TV. His guess was that maybe they are expanding or something.

After that, everything where blur and pieces. How he arrived to Home Sweet Home, meeting the staff, Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy, Mommy and Daddy Longlegs along with other toys,doing some sort of test of memory and running, being told that he got adopted, on how he was guided to a room with a bed as they put him on the bed before putting anesthesia and how he became...like he is now.

He felt...weird to say the least but he quickly got used being taller and getting used to his new body. A few bumps here and there but he got used to it. Faster than the others. The Doctor thinks to himself.

And before he know it, he got a brand new suit (he allways wanted to wear one when he was older.It made him feel...important.) and got a new... 'job' as the new guard of Playcare and Home Sweet Home. At day he would help some of the staff carry important papers so he was given a mesanger bag to carry those paper more easier and organize smaller toys for the kids and making sure the wasn't something a miss or any complications among the staff and the children. And by the night, he would roam Playcare and Home Sweet home hall's with his trusty flashlight to make sure there wasn't any stray kid or someone suspicious was around.

He took extra careful in the night because he read in a book once that the dark can by tricky and dangerous. But what caught his attention more was one sentance in particular.

"Trust no one in the dark."

After that, he took his night patrols very seriously, with careful steps and eyes all open for anything. Something tells him there something off but rapidly dissmiss the thought.

Sometimes when doing the day shift, some of the kids would run to him and would either drag him to play with them, show him drawings of him or hug him out of nowhere. He would stay still with no idea what to do or react. Thankfully, some of the staff or caretakers would save him from that embarassment and he would fix tie and continue with his duties for today.

Just like before he is still silent with a neutral looks almost all the time. Responding with a nod, shake or short answer to long questions. He would been doing this for 5 years. Making him 15 years old if his math is correct.

None of the staff, the caretakers or even the children have see him smile. Not even once. Always on focus on the task. Some even says he's more of a robot than someone alive.

It would take a miracle to even make him smile.

...Maybe that miracle could be in the form of 8 new Critters know as The Smilling Critters.

Only time will tell...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that's that! (Jesus, that was long.) Anyway, if you read till the end, thanks! 'preaciated! Hoped i could have entertaied you a little. Again, thank to @realizinau for inpriring me to make this little thing and maybe i will do more. But for the mean time...What's the time? Playtime...

[belleshub]

tw: not much here again, gender neutral, no use of pronouns and no use of y/n or name anywhere. no curse au

an: this again was self indulgent, but I like when friends bribe me to get out more. this is like my first time writing satoru pls be easy on me 😩I didn’t proofread so apologies if there’s any grammar mistakes or so..

you were suddenly down in the dumps. not like anyone had did anything to you, it’s just, sometimes you fall out if it and forget to tend to yourself as you usually would.

you didn’t like the idea of rotting in bed all day, but sometimes, it happens. you’d ignore everything for hours on end, neglecting almost anything and everything.

it may have been that one aspect of you that you disliked about yourself.

the worse part is, that majority of the time, you struggle to pull yourself up, and guilt gnaws at you. you started the cycle and now you can’t even end it. you’re almost never doing anything special to take up hours and days of your time.

you spiral, and overthink, make some hefty decisions past midnight and then convince yourself you’ll fix everything including yourself the next day.

but what if you had someone by your side? what if there was tiny, gradual stepping stones?

luckily, sometimes you have people to motivate you into breaking those habits, bit by bit, one of those people had to be satoru.

like for example, how he gives you a reason to get out of bed.

“y’sure you wanna miss out on that?”

satoru piques, trying to gain your favor.

“helloooo, earth to-“

cutting him off, you respond lazily.

“I wouldn’t wanna miss out on that, would I?”

you say, staring at the monotonous color of your ceiling. a view you eventually got used to as the days went by.

you felt sweaty, and for sure, unclean.

“well duh, that’s kinda what I just asked y- ouch!”

satoru yelps as a pillow gets thrown his way, barely applying force to his arm.

“watch it!” he hissed, dramatically at that.

“I’m kinda hungry..”

you murmur, lifting yourself up as you swing your legs over the edge of your bed, feeling the entire backside of your body drenched in sweat. you never felt more disgusted of yourself.

“me too.” satoru jumps in, ruining your monologue.

“okay-okay, just like sit in the living room or something while I get ready.”

you said, throwing even more pillows at him, doing a pretty good job at trying to chase him out. as you hopped off your bed, you immediately walked over to your drawer, looking for some clothes appropriate to the weather, and after getting ready, you open the door and slam it shut, immediately looking over to satoru.

“alright, so you remember what it was called, right?”

satoru pauses, looking absentmindedly at you, when in reality he had maybe a few things scattered around his mind, how he was finally able to persuade you to leave your cell, and also, where exactly was that place? he hoped he wasn’t talking out of his ass like he usually did.

“oh.”

“ ‘oh’ what, satoru?” you replied, with the slightest amount of haste in your voice.

“yea, I forgot what it was called but I definitely know the location, it was around two blocks from here..err, I think.”

shrugging to yourself, a deal was a deal and you weren’t gonna complain too much.

striding out the door, you follow behind him.

he in fact, did not remember where the place was or even called, but he brought you to a random bakery a few blocks away so you could get some sunshine, apparently to him, you looked like death itself.

maybe step by step, you could get out that ridiculous cycle.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

reblog and likes are appreciated. please do not translate, steal or copy!

[devoted--angel]

I’ve read some of your posts, I understand how you feel. Because of my age, I can’t get any jobs inside my home yet, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t tried. I wish I could make my family proud, but it’s hard to during the summer (I’m autistic but very good academically). I wish you the best of luck and a very awesome rest of your summer (or break, if you study lol).

don’t give up, angel! <3

thank you so much!! i'm doing my best but after applying to eight jobs and only hearing back from one i'm becoming more and more stressed ;^;

i just wish i could rot in bed all day and never work again

[iwonderwh0]

One more scene for this out-of-body fic idea. This one is (almost) directly following the one started here

It was decided that when it comes to Hank going to sleep, a phone with Connor will be left in the garage, right next to the washing machine set for the longest cycle of two and a half hours. Additionally Hank promised to leave a working fan to maintain the noise present once the washing machine finished its job.

That was the plan.

What it didn't account for was the fact that Hank would need to actually do the laundry and all the laundry-related tasks, and to his own regret, he decided that it was a great occasion to finally wash all the bedding - a chore consisting of (as he realised a little too late) the most tedious tasks. Tasks such as: unbuttoning and removing all the pillowcases, sheets, duvet cover and replacing them all with new ones by going through the miserable process of searching for the replacement bedding in a closet, fitting all the pillows into according pillowcases, buttoning them back on and the worst of it all – fitting the comforter into a new duvet cover. This was too much work. He could have simply loaded the washing machine with the content of laundry basket and call it a day. That's what he should have done. Now it was too late.

He lay down on a bare bed and stared at the ceiling as the pile of removed bedding frowned at him from the corner of his eye. He tried to pretend it wasn't there, ignore it, but he could still feel it taking up space -- both mental and physical -- even with his eyes closed. This knowledge alone filled him with the kind of dread only the tedious unfinished tasks could induce. Tasks like making an appointment at the doctor's office or cancelling a subscription he didn't remember having, reminded him of it only by a weekly junk-mail. Tasks that are easy to do, but much more tempting to just ignore. Let them pile up and rot.

"I forgot how much I fucking hate laundry," Hank grumbled, cutting through the silence of the last couple of minutes.

"I thought you hate doing the dishes," Connor said.

"I hate doing laundry and the dishes. But if I had to choose, I'd rather do the dishes."

"I'm sorry. I would help you if I could."

Something about sincerely apologetic tone of android's voice annoyed Hank and he scoffed.

"Sure you fucking would."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. It doesn't fucking matter."

Hank pressed his palms against his face and sighed.

"Fuck...This is embarrassing," he said and instantly winced from realisation of saying it out loud - something he didn't intend to do.

"Laundry?"

Hank huffed and applied more pressure to his palms, seeing colourful spots appearing at his fake vision of closed eyes.

"Yeah. Laundry."

"Is the process of laundry embarrassing in itself or is it-"

"-Connor. Just stop, okay?"

Connor got quiet, but only for a moment.

"You know, you don't have to do it today," he said.

"That's what I told myself yesterday. And...Shit, I don't even remember when was the last time I did it. And now I already took the sheets and covers out..."

"So you're already half way there, much closer than yesterday, right? You can do it tomorrow morning."

Hank didn't feel like arguing and insisting on doing something he already subconsciously decided not to do, so he agreed. He abruptly thought if android tried to use reverse-psychology on him to make him finish making the bed now, but if that was the case -- Hank thought -- he should have known better than to do it like this.

"Tomorrow it is, then. I'm not doing it."

He took his hands off his face and stared at the pile of removed bedding. The sight of it was nauseous. He turned to his side and looked at the phone laying on the other side of the bed instead.

"What about you? What are you doing exactly? I'm sure you're not only here talking to me."

"Correct. But I try to focus on my audio input the most, so what I'm doing on the background is not so important."

"You can still tell me about it," Hank turned to his back.

"You want me to talk about what I'm doing?"

"Couldn't be more clear than that."

Connor made a noise - something between a surprise and content.

"It's not much, there isn't enough computing power for me to use, so mostly I'm just surfing through text articles. For example, when you mentioned hating laundry, I tried to find something that might change your perspective on it. I found that there's a music album named 'Laundry Service' released on November 13, 2001 - the same day the President of the United States signed an executive order allowing military tribunals against foreigners suspected of terrorist acts as part of the war on terror following the September 11 attacks."

"Wow," Hank elongated the word and shook his head, "I must admit, it does indeed change my whole perspective on laundry."

He chuckled at his own joke reaching the phone to move it closer.

"Is it something you only do now or..," Hank started.

"No, I've been also doing it before."

"Ah, I get it. Can't be entertained by a conversation only. Can't blame ya. I'd probably do the same if I had a computer for a brain to do this kind of shit unnoticed."

"It's not about my level of entertainment and more about not being familiar with some of the cultural references I may encounter. I can't know it all, Hank."

"Right. I keep forgetting how little you've been around. Of course you'd search things up... didn't come out of the box with all this nonsense installed."

"Technically I've never been in a box."

"Yet."

"I'm not sure what's that supposed to mean. Is this a joke about coffin?"

Hank laughed.

"What? No. Actually, I don't know what I was thinking. Probably just imagined you in a big cardboard box or something."

"Why would I be in a cardboard box?"

"I don't know, why would you be in a coffin?"

"I don't know, you said my body looks like a corpse in your living room."

"Connor, fuck...Do me a favour and shut the fuck up!"

The awkward silence filled the room. Once again Hank got painfully aware of the pile of sheets, but this time it looked more like an excuse than anything else. He rose from the bed and grabbed the pile on his way to the door. He was halfway through the threshold when he got stopped by the sound of his name. He froze.

"I won't say anything. Please, don't leave me alone in silence."

Hank felt a heavy knot forming in his stomach. He swallowed and turned back around.

"Of course not. Wasn't going to."

He returned to the bed to pick up the phone, then walked to the garage, loaded the washing machine, closed the door, and stared at it blankly. It seemed like he had forgotten something, but the silence-induced noise was too loud in his ears to remember whatever it was. He started the washing machine, gave it another glance, and returned to the bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed. After a few moments he realised that he had returned with his phone in his hand. He was squeezing it tightly, still. It had been quiet the entire time, and for a moment, Hank wondered if he could accidentally turn it off without even noticing. The thought sent a surge of panic down his spine, and he swiped his finger to unlock the phone. The screen lit up with CyberLife program still up and running. Thank god. He let out a sigh of relief and sank into the matress, setting the phone aside.

"Connor?"

There was no response.

Hank burried his face deeper into the pillow. He felt sick. Without meaning to, he accidentally remembered what it was he had forgotten -- aside from leaving the phone in the garage with a fan, which had been a rather conscious decision-- washing detergent. He hadn't used it at all.

"Connor," he tried again.

After a few seconds phone buzzed in response.

"Listen, you can talk if you want."

The room remained silent.

Hank turned to his side and unlocked the phone. He wasn't sure why, probably just to see CyberLife screen again, to make sure it was still there. He looked at it for a few seconds, then locked the phone back.

"I'm sorry" was what he meant to say. What he wanted to say. What he said instead was "Say something, damn it!"

It came out wrong. Agressive. Not the way he intended it, again.

"Goodnight, Hank," Connor said.

It was something. Sharp and short. Hank let another sigh out - both from frustration and relief.

"Goodnight, Connor."

[derrygirlstrash]

WIP Wednesday

I’m finished with school for the semester so I can finally begin working on that fic I started ages ago, and a few other things, so to keep myself remembering to work, here’s a WIP of the second chapter of my fic What A Girl Wants, where James is trying to buy Erin a Secret Santa gift with help from Aisling and Charlene:

—

December 6th, 1997

As was often the case, the weekend meant another sleepover, granted to them for the pretense of studying, but ended up with the usual activity of ‘anything but studying’.

Semi-Charmed Life was playing in the background as Orla stretched her legs to rest her calves in Clare’s lap who was measuring them with rainbow yarn, which, James suspected, was probably giving away who Clare got for her Secret Santa but they weren’t going to ruin the cheerful energy Clare had tonight by pointing it out.

Michelle had brought a bottle of cheap, unlabeled gut rot liquor from her recently acquired job at Dennis’s Wee Shop. Even a small sip of the wretched stuff had him thinking dangerous thoughts when Erin stretched close beside him in her brushed cotton pajamas. What was it about that tiny strip of skin that peeked from the space between her pajama top and bottoms that made him want to do something stupid like stand out her window and hold a boom box up to profess his more-than-like for her?

Needless to say, he hadn’t taken a second sip.

Instead, the brushed cotton clad beauty was currently applying a second coat of nail polish on his hands. It was clear yet sparkly, a perfect compromise choice - it’s not as if he didn’t like bubblegum pink, on her it was quite lovely in fact, but colored nail polish always stresses him out with the upkeep so he put his foot down on a clear - and the twinkling glitter honestly brought out his hands. He was lucky she had it because he would have taken any color she wanted if it meant she was holding his hands the way she was right now. Her hands are so warm.

“You really do suit the sparkly polish James,” Erin said, tilting her head to observe her handiwork while twisting the cap shut, then lifting the hand she was painting and blowing gently on the wet nails to dry them faster. “Good choice on that one.”

As he stares at her lips pursing invitingly to blow on his nails and feels her soft breath on his fingers, he thinks to himself that he needs to let her do his nails more often.

“Yeah?” he asked, admiring the hand she wasn’t blowing on with an exaggerated flourish, mostly just to make her snort with amusement. “Not too much?”

“I think you can go a little further, I’ll get you picking out colors one day.” Erin replied, knocking her knee against his slightly, but not enough to jostle him and risk smudging her careful paint job. He then knocked her knee back, which made her give him a playful warning, “Watch yourself, if you mess it up I’m not fixing it.”

“Oh yes, right, sorry.” he tried to look apologetic as he said it, but it was hard not to smile when she smiled.

“You ought to be, if you mess up them up. Look at them, so pretty.” Erin teased him a bit with the way she said ‘pretty’ which made him feel flushed, more flushed considering he could still feel the sip he took like a hot stone in his stomach. Then, after a moment of observing his nails with a scrutinizing eye, she smiled, more to herself than to him and lowered her mouth to a spot just above his nail bed and pressed her lips to that spot so quick and gentle he nearly thinks it was wishful thinking, “Perfect, you’re all dry!”

If he was flushed before, it’s nothing compared to how he feels now. This is probably a moment, considering it’s the first time her lips were on him in any capacity since Donegal, but how much of a moment he wasn’t sure. Mostly because they had taken matching sips of what Michelle brought. He can only smile, not even say anything, so she just returns the smile looking easy and casual as if she didn’t just scramble every thought in his head by kissing him on his fingers and turns away to grab something else. It was a big point in his favor on the ‘does she still like me’ front, the thought crossed his mind, but he wasn’t sure whether he should count anything done under the influence of alcohol that was just short of lighter fluid.

He allows himself to look down at her hands, where the last chips of her peachy, school appropriate nail polish was clinging to her nails. He had the thought to offer to paint her nails as well. Anything to hold her hands longer…

Before he could offer though, the door was opening and the stern voice of Mrs. Quinn was speaking over the music, “Is this what you wains think passes for studying? If so, you ought to pray it works out for you, or we might have some issues!”

At once the room snapped to attention, Erin was reaching for her school bag and kicking the small basket of polishes under her desk and James was digging in his own bag to grab a highlighter or something, anything to look more busy than he was. Michelle was trying to subtly hide the liquor under the bed while reaching for her textbook, Clare let out a strangled gasp before beginning to read from her book with one hand and thumbing through her notes with the other and Orla - well, Orla was mostly looking at Mrs. Quinn with owl eyes and crisp crumbs falling out her mouth, but she was still just as at attention as the rest of them.

“We-we were just taking a break Mammy.” Erin said nervously, taking out her study sheets, “Trying to reset our brains, y’know, to retain the material better.”

“You’ll retain a long punishment over the break if you don’t bring home good grades. Being in the last stretch doesn’t mean you just get to slack off, you have university to think about.” Mrs. Quinn said in a voice that left no debate to be had from any of them, then suddenly, oh god, she was looking at him.

Luckily though, she didn’t seem upset and instead said, “James love, there’s someone on the phone for you. Says she called around yours to talk about a project for school and couldn’t reach you so she tried here.”

He was confused to say the least, considering there wasn’t any sort of group project to do before Christmas Holiday. Nevertheless, he got to his feet and followed Mrs. Quinn to the phone, taking it from her and speaking skeptically into the phone, “… Hello?”

“Good, so you are here.” Charlene’s voice came through the other end of the line and James startled at it. It was the last voice he was expecting at the moment.

“Wh- Charlene?”

“I mean, I would hope you know my voice by now James. I’m very memorable.” Was her response.

He couldn’t argue with her there.

[plexippusangel]

I am honestly so sick of being so unwell. It’s annoying bc I had my baseline up pretty decent for a while and now all I can manage most days is lay in bed, feed myself, maybe wash one round of laundry, shower instead of laundry if I have to go to work the next day. I’d do less laundry but I have a fungal skin infection so I have to keep everything really freshly washed, no pajamas two days in a row for me until this shit clears up. It’s also making me dysphoric as hell bc it’s on my chest which is sooo fun

Trying to get through a day of school takes so much out of me that I can’t even mask it by the end of the day which is BAD I am the masking monarch normally. But I have to make money.

I can’t organize my brain enough to apply to new jobs even bc my resume needs a whole rework and I can’t get my brain to cooperate long enough to do that. I’m hoping that in a few weeks my current skin infection will be cleared up and r the weather will be a bit more stable and I’ll be back at my baseline (where I can replace some of the laying down with sitting and can do laundry and shower in the same day, how magical)

I am just so sick of this and so tired and it’s annoying it feels like I’m just rotting

[thegreathomestuckreread]

been having the kind of day where my brain simply will not stop ping-ponging all over the place and i have so much to do but none of it will click right, very restless

i did finish reading a book, i did a fair bit of reading today, for some reason that was fine, and so was fucking around in photoshop a little

but i have so many more things i want to do that are much higher priority and that i actually really want to do like apply to the two more job postings i found and work on one of my three crochet projects and edit my latest youtube uploads and send a few important messages i need to send

but instead i spent wayyyyyy too much time on this webbed site today with my eyes half glazed-over because everything made my brain twitchy and now it's past 3am

and my brain is also too twitchy to sleep. although i feel like that frequently and then it ends up not being a problem so maybe i'll be fine if i just go the fuck to bed

hey hot tip to reward you for reading this far don't use your phone in bed before going to sleep no matter how tempting it is. seriously the best thing i ever did for my sleep, it's amazing how quickly it almost entirely eliminated nights where i spent hours tossing and turning because my brain was too awake and moving too fast. and also i stopped waking up to my eyes feeling like they were going to rot out of my fucking head, which made getting out of bed at least a little easier, that's just always going to be hard for me i think.

i guess i am going to go to bed now because it is late and i am clearly not going to be able to do anything else anyway. bleh

[bewilderedbunny]

sallllly hiiii it’s gabby :) if you still want to do ships, i’d love one :) i’m 5’2ish? my body is… soft :) i’ve got curly brown hair in a shag cut now, brown eyes, pale as hell, lots of piercings (some on my ears, nose, septum and nips hehe) like 8 tattoos including sleeping baby snoopy, a jurassic park tattoo and a tramp stamp that says memento mori lol my style is pretty chill, lots of long skirts, band tees, doc martens or beat up sneakers very 90s esque-y i’d say? i loooove statement earrings :) i spend too much money on skincare and shower products lol hm i’d say i can be pretty snarky but i’m really sensitive lol i work an 8-5 office job but in my free time i like rotting in bed, trying new foods/restaurants, going to concerts, going to movies, reading, playing video games, going on walks and coloring!! i have a lil vinyl collection :) my fav artists atm are turnstile, weyes blood, rina sawayama :) some of my fav movies are little miss sunshine, jurassic park (duh) and scream (honorable mention for interstellar). hmmm i’m a gemini and infp and i’d say my love language is gift giving or acts of service. okay that’s all i got lol mwah mwah tysm 🩷🫡

Gabby!!!! My baby love 🥹💗 I'm so glad you sent this in. You are the cutest person ever and your sleepy baby snoopy tattoo is SO PRECIOUS !!

All aboard! 🚢

I'm struggling to pick between Steve and Robin for you. I feel like both of them need a sweet, fun, soft person like you in their lives :)

Maybe they both start working at your office job (because they have to work together. It's non-negotiable. Y'know that episode of it's always sunny in philadelphia where Mac and Charlie apply for one job using the same resume? That's literally them)

Anywhoooo. You're so chill and your style sets you apart! Both of them are drawn to you. Robin sends you the dorkiest messages on Teams because she's too nervous to talk to you in person. You bond over music pretty quickly and her messages make your day 🥹 she sends you music recommendations and throws in a few love songs, desperately hoping you take the hint.

Steve flirts with you in the lunch room 🤭 he starts off asking about your piercings and tattoos. If you felt comfortable telling him about your nipple piercings, he'd lose his fucking mind. And when you show him your Jurassic Park tattoo, he does the worst impression of a dilophosaurus you've ever heard in your life. And that butt in a pair of khakis? It's like he wants you to bend him over the lunch table and show him who's boss.

Anyway, there you go my sweet lil Gemini angel. Two idiots who would adore you 🥰 just like you deserve!

[saturdaysickness]

11.13.24

you guys....

i am regressing...

or so it feels like it.

once in a while, i do this thing where i like to dig into my teenage experiences to feel some kind of nostalgia. and tonight happened to have led me back to one of my old tumblr blog to watch videos i had posted of when i attended a twenty one pilots show in 2014 (btw i got FIFTY notes on one of the video.... talk about being famous). anyways, it somehow led me back to this blog, which then led me to reading my previous entry that i had written just a few months before receiving my college diploma.

now we are a little over a month until the end of 2024, my college diploma is stuffed inside a drawer along with anti-motion sickness glasses and expired checkbooks. sometimes when I'm feeling down, i pull the diploma out and stare at it to give me the motivation to send in the 10th job application for this month.

let me lay it out straight: i fucking hate my life right now!!!!!

opening the google drive folder that i have designated for different cover letter versions makes me ill. most days i rot in bed and the motivation to apply to jobs that i once had in september has died since rejection emails rolled in. I've been hopeful of phone calls for months and every unsaved number has been spam calls. i got laid off from one of my position at work recently because we ran out of funding so now i actually feel like the most useless piece of shit ever with my subpar part-time paycheck.

WHY DOES NO ONE WANT ME, I HAVE A DEGREE.

i've been told all my life a degree is all it takes!!!!!!

okay guys i'm not naive, obviously i been knew a degree isn't all it takes, that's why i picked the most useless fucking degree ever! they were not lying when they said it's tough out there in the job seeking world - i didn't know that it has also affected my field.

my needs are simple, i'm not asking for much. I'm literally playing within the boundaries of the American dream - a decent-paying job, a 401k, health insurance, a home, a car, a pet - please, like, that's all i want, I'm not even asking for much, guys. like, i don't even want the white picket fence, so my needs are pretty humble!

2024 be like: Getting A Job With Years Of Experience Under Your Belt Challenge (IMPOSSIBLE!!!)

so most days i just hate my fucking life, do useless vain shit, mope, and wish that lightning could just strike me down. i literally have no purpose right now and the last time i felt this directionless was after graduating high school - but at least i knew i had to go to college, now i don't know where to go.

maybe i should go back to school so at least i have a purpose lol. directionless mfs be like: I'm going to grad school! just kidding, I'm not going into debt (yet) just because i don't have my shit figured out - although my parents are subliminal messaging me that they want me to go to grad school.... i think i might want to kill myself.

MANIFESTING A NEW JOB WITH GOOD PAY, GOOD COMPANY 401K MATCH, AND THAT I FINALLY GET TO EXPERIENCE LIVING INDEPENDENTLY IN THE YEAR 2025

OR I WILL KMS

bye guys, have a good day, see you all in my next entry, hopefully my life outlook will be better then.

-s

[zeroroheichou]

i feel like a disappointment im sorry please dont be disappointed in me

i spent years in high school trying so hard to maintain a 4.0 gpa and taking AP classes because i thought it would help me in college

i spent four years in college trying so hard to maintain as high of a GPA as i could and being in the honors college and graduating summa cum laude and killing myself worrying about my grades and assignments and getting an internship when i should have been trying to enjoy my time at least a bit more, especially during my study abroad which was fun going to another country but the whole experience is inherently tainted with the thought of "i wish i hadnt spent so much time worrying about my classes and grades"

and then i figured out i wanted to work in a museum which pretty much requires a masters degree. so then i spent two more years stressed out with readings i could never keep up with and pulling so many all nighters and fighting what is probably adhd and "oh its 1 am and im tired but i havent gotten enough done that i want or need to get done, so im going to nap for a few hours and then wake up and do more because i cant go to bed until ive gotten more done because if i go to bed with another day where i got barely anything done then ill feel like a failure" and spent so much time stressing over my classes and TA work and my tthesis but i thought as long as i could get through grad school at least i would be doing what i loved and it would all be worth it

and now its been 13 months since i graduated with my masters degree and ive applied to over 75 museum jobs and have gotten 8 interviews and none of them have stuck and its been over three months since my last museum interview

and now its been 13 months since i graduated with my masters degree and ive applied to over 20 retail jobs, because i need to start earning some money again until i get the museum job that i spent so much time working towards, and have gotten 6 interview offers and none of them have stuck

what did i spend so much time and money and energy and tears and stress worrying about? what am i doing what did i do pulling so many all nighters and stressing about my grades to get my masters degree in a field im genuinely passionate about when i cant even get a job at the shoe store at the mall let alone a museum? i feel like a failure i feel like im rotting i feel even worse typing this up the longer it goes on but i needed to get the words out of my head

im underqualified still for the jobs i want and im overqualified for the jobs i need and all i can keep doing is keep trying, keep meeting people, keep networking, keep volunteering at the museums which you wouldnt even need your degree to do, keep trying keep fucking trying keep fucking trying and and and im so fucking tired

[solsticejrnl]

Quarter :P

Trying to account for 366 days is doable, but I wanna break it into more feasible quarterly stuff. I've had 2 weeks to just be, and I started spring semester a week ago so I've found my footing and groove in my schoolwork. Now, I wanna actually consider the goals I want to achieve by March. I'm thinking off the top of my head about what I want that is feasible if I put the excuses aside and work for it by then.

The first thing that came to mind is fitness. Today I did yoga, which was good. I did it for an hour before my first class. After rotting in bed, I got out of bed, and that's what matters. No gym because I didn't wake up early enough and the machines were taken when I got back to my dorm. That's an excuse. I need to start 3x a week gym and daily yoga and stretching until I have enough endurance to add in pilates exercises. I KNOW what I want to look like and I don't think I truly have it in me to keep being the one staring and wishing I were someone else. we gotta switch the roles, and quickly. my goal is temi ojora. yes I have an unhealthy fixation on her, but she's just so aspirational. she runs track so maybe its her, maybe its track body but I need to get my ass up rn if this is my goal.

Like I don't even want to compare, but she stands out physically among people, and I wanna do the same! I have the platform: long limbs, long torso, long legs, straight shoulders etc etc etc I just need to get to work.

The next is nutrition. Now, today I ate one meal bc I'm busy and I'm trying to downsize my appetite forreal. I'm trying the whole 80% health and nutrition and 20% indulgence thing rn and honestly just thugging out my cravings. no liquid cals, no crazy sweet treats, no greasy fast food, no junk snacks. my chest hurt writing that bc i ate a burger and 2 cookies yesterday, and i could honestly conquer the world at that point ughhh. but today the dining served literal slop so i ate white rice with spinach and pulled pork just so i could have flavor on the rice and I intentionally didn't finish. but I'm doing better with nutrition lowkey. I'm tall asf I burn mad calories anyways.

SCHOOL. I'm doing this project, and it's lowkey crushing me. I have a civil engineering class and architecture ones. I just want to chillllll bro. But I want the life any way I might as well be willing to think. I'm on the dean's list already. I wanna get on the president's list this semester, so I'm trying to get there by all means.

I'm tired of being broke so I'm getting a job. I already applied and got a callback so I'm actually bringing them my documents tmr. i just want my first-ever paycheck bro. I feel soooo bad spending bc I have no money ever bc I only get an allowance. if I had a job I could get credit and do things and actually feel grown.

I've been feeling things and the things are feeling like I'm missing something. I feel like I need to do more inner work. I place too much value on people outside of me and look for attention in all the wrong places, I stay in situations due to attachment, I'm not self-aware, and I need to get myself together and find motivation out of mediocrity. I'm gonna go back to therapy and have actual goals for it instead of just venting and leaving.

So yeah this quarter is about me: my mind, my body, my money, and my relationship to myself and to work and to my situation.

if it is a situation i can correct, then wtf am I waiting for. My actions simply must align with my goals.