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starlit-writer · 2 days ago

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in sickness and in health, ch. 1 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

ah, look at that. have some omegaverse angst inspired by this post here <3 if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

well, this turned out to be miles longer than i expected it to. there's not really a solid ending, so let me know if you want more! have so much fun getting your heart ripped out <3

word count: 4,764 chapter two masterlist ao3 link

Three years ago, you and Simon got married. It wasn’t anything flashy or big - fuck, how could it have been when you didn’t even love each other? But, military law forbade an unmated omega from joining the ranks, and Simon was seen as a wild-card alpha, too headstrong and violent, too hard to control. So, the brass laid out an ultimatum: mate, get married, or be discharged. Both you and Simon had worked too hard for too long to get where you were, so discharge was entirely off the table. There was no courting, no dates, and the wedding, if you could call it that, was little more than signing papers - three signatures on a thick piece of A4 government paper, one from you, one from Simon, and one from your witness, Captain John Price. You didn’t even exchange rings or vows. It took less than five minutes.

After all was said and done, you and Simon went back to your lives. Sure, you were respectful to one another, and you spent one or two heats and ruts together, but you both maintained a distance away from each other. Neither of you were thrilled with the idea of being tied down, of being mated. The mating bond between you felt more like the neck of a too-tight sweater than it did a comfort, feeling each other’s emotions more of a chore than something you looked forward to. Sure, you worked well together, fluid and deadly like a well oiled M2 on the field. Always had. But there was a stark difference between working well together, and being mated.

So that’s how you ended up here. You had lost twenty pounds. Your skin was sallow and pale, your eyes sunken in. When you looked in the mirror, you could count your ribs, the knobs of your spine, even when they were hidden under the bruises that bloomed across your sickly skin.

You had thrown yourself into work, and when there was no work, you were challenging any living thing to go for a round with you on the sparring mat. But, you were weak; the bond sickness sapped all of your energy and strength faster than you could ever hope to replenish it. Your scent, which was once a warm and spicy caramelized vanilla, now smelled like sugar burnt to the bottom of a pot - acrid and rotted. You were dying, and you knew it. But your pride was far too great to ever go crawling back to Simon, the very man who caused the sickness to infiltrate every cell of your being. It had been months of this torture. Simon, your alpha, had all but abandoned you. You had been without his touch, his scent, anything and everything that the very base instincts of your omega craved from its mate for far too long. It didn't matter to your omega that this marriage, this mating bond was nothing more than a way to keep both you and Simon in the service. Instincts couldn't be fought with fact, and now you were reaping the consequences of the neglect of the bond. You had thought bond sickness was a myth, a fear-mongering tactic to keep alphas in line. However, you were now aware that there was far more truth than you could have ever imagined to that story that is told.

You had seen the concerned looks of your team as they watched you haunt the halls of the base like a spectre. Soap had started to bring you chocolates and drinks, anything in hopes to get you to eat. Gaz took a different approach, always being the one to take you up on your sparring requests, the beta knowing that at the very least he could be gentle with you while still giving you an outlet. The Captain had made sure to keep you off any truly strenuous missions and tasks, mainly relegating you to the medbay or to training recruits. If you were any stronger, you would be pissed, but right now you took it as a blessing. At least he hadn’t kicked you off the team for your weakness. But Simon? Simon was nowhere to be found. He continuously was the first volunteer for the most dangerous missions, keeping him away from base for weeks to months at a time. When he came back bloody and bruised, he would avoid the medbay like the plague, only coming in to get fixed up by another combat medic when he knew Soap or Gaz had forcefully pulled you away. If you two happened to be walking in the same hallway, Simon would duck out of your sight without even so much as a word. You had long since given up on running after him.

So color yourself surprised when you were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom and the screen of your phone lit up, a text from Simon blaring on the too-bright screen. You had every intention of ignoring it, but your pride was no match for the dying ache of your omega.

Come to my quarters.

The text was simple. Demanding, even. And all it did was make you angry.

You quickly tugged on a pair of sweats and forced a tank top over your bruised and feverish skin. You thought briefly for a moment about tugging a sweatshirt on over your mottled skin, but, fuck it, let him see all that he has done to you. Maybe he would give you the one blessing you had hoped for over the last few months of neglect, and finally sever the bond between you.

You trudged through the hallways of the base, every soldier you passed giving you a wide berth. You were certain you looked like death froze over, and the rage-filled expression set over your brows and your lips certainly did not help. When you reached his door, you didn’t even bother to knock. You just shoved your copy of the key in the door and slammed the door open.

Simon barely even looked up from where he was lounging on the bed. His shirt was off, a rare sight, even for you, but even more shocking was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his mask. He didn’t look much better than you - his once-bronzed skin paled, his own scars raised and reddened, and he had a poorly bandaged bullet wound wrapped, the white medical wrapping blossoming with a red mark. Pulled stitches, definitely.

“Close the door,” came the rough demand as his arms lazily opened in an invitation to lay with him. “And c’mere.”

You, in all of your rage, just stood stockstill in the still-open doorway. Even as your omega side cried to jump into his arms and let his scent and his touch wash away all the pain, you refused with a defiant jut of your chin. You didn’t know why he had called you here, and the only thing your mind could conjure up is that Price, or Laswell, or fuck, even Soap, had sat him down and forced him to do this. And you wanted nothing to do with this or with him if he actually was not trying to change.

“I don’t want your pity. And I sure as hell don’t want your affection just because Price told you that you had to fix me,” you replied, your voice shaking with weakness and pain, even as you tried your damndest to keep it steady, strong.

Simon growled, the sound of an alpha not used to not getting his way, as he rolled onto his side to look at you more squarely. His arms were still open, but you could see the way his muscles clenched, his own anger rising. “It ain’t about pity. It’s about basic biology,” he bit out, the words short and angry.

That made you laugh, the sound short and sardonic before it morphs into a cough that shakes your entire, frail being. You brought a shaking hand up to wipe your lips before you fixed him with a glare hard enough to freeze an ocean. “Basic biology?" you mocked. “Yeah, for sure. But it’s also basic biology to not let bond sickness even be a worry for your omega, but looks like you fucked that one right up, didn’t you!?”

Your words made something in Simon snap. Your rage, the vitriol, clenched his hands into fists as he quickly swung his powerful legs over the edge of the bed, crossing the space between you in the space between one of your breaths and the next. He was in your face now, just enough space between you to not be pressing completely against you. You averted your gaze, knowing that if you didn’t, you might continue yelling at him, or worse.

“Look at me,” he ordered, using the same tone he does on the battlefield. His hands are still clenched into fists, but they are shaking. Why?

That tone made your eyes harden, the instincts of a hard-bred soldier kicking in. Even through the fraying of your bond, your sickness, you knew that voice. You listened when given an order. You allowed your head to loll back to look up at him, but your expression was still set in that same hard glare. You weren’t on a battlefield. You were on base, far away from the acrid explosions and hot gunpowder. How dare he pretend otherwise? “Why?” you bit back in response. “This isn’t some tactical decision, Simon. Don’t treat me like one of your fuckin’ rookies.”

He took a sharp breath through his teeth, obviously trying to control himself. He knew you were weak, the bond sickness taking so much more from you than it ever did him. But your defiance, your spirit despite the bond sickness was making his alpha go crazy. Even with you glaring up at him, he stared down at you with fierce eyes as his hands gripped your hips, shoving you out of the doorway and pressing you against the wall right beside it. Taking one hand off of your hip, he shut the door with a resounding click before his grip, and his attention came back entirely to you. “I ain’t treatin’ you like a goddamned rookie,” he growled out, his cold brown gaze entirely focused on your own broken one as one hand slams into the wall by your head. Even through your rage, he can see it. Feel it. He had broken you. And that knowledge caused his alpha to writhe in pain. “I’m treatin’ ya like my fuckin’ omega.”

As he caged you in, growled those words at you, your own expression hardened. Your lips curled up to reveal your smaller omega fangs, a low growl of your own reverberating from your chest as your hands clenched into fists. It’s hard to ignore the sheer size difference between the two of you as he towers over you, his head dipped low to keep your attention. However, that did nothing to stop your rage, in fact, it increased it tenfold.

“Oh, right. I forgot. Being your omega means less than being one of your rookies, silly me.”

You knew the second the words left your mouth that you just opened a Pandora’s box. You saw it in the way his eyes instantaneously darkened, in the way his hand left the wall before you could even blink, his fingers crushing your jaw between them in a bruising grip, forcing your head back against the wall as he brought his face ever closer to yours. However, as his face got closer, you could see the glint of something else in his eyes. Triumph. His alpha was revelling in watching you snap and get fiery again. It was a victory, in his mind, to see you able to be so angry after the bond sickness had taken so much from you. “Watch it, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. “I know that attitude of yours will always be there, but careful.”

His words sent another wave of anger through you, and as he forced your head back, you jerked your neck, snapping your teeth at him, your small omega fangs glinting in the low light of his quarters. It was a clear message. Fuck the bond sickness, he had no right to touch you right now. You did not forgive him, and he has to work to even begin to earn that, and if he won’t? You would dissolve the bond without him, whether or not it risked your life.

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you growled out, glaring up at him even as the bruising grip of his fingers squished your cheeks together, slurring your words. “Not after everything.”

His alpha instincts flared again, the desire to force you into accepting his help clear as his eyes flashed in irritation at your anger. He pressed you further into the wall, his body now flush against yours as he snarled right back. “Then do something about it,” he challenged. “Get mad. Fight me. Let it all out. But, you’re not leaving this room until you let me fix this.”

As much as you hated it, hearing Simon’s permission gave you the ability to let it all out. No matter how much you wanted to pretend that you were unaffected by him, the knowledge that he wanted you to fight, wanted to fix this broken bond between you, allowed you to finally and truly get all of the anger out, and maybe, just maybe, give the bond a chance to heal.

And so you did. Your body jerked against his, your sallow cheeks flushing red as you bared your omega fangs and growled at him again. Your eyes held the faintest spark of life, a far cry from what they used to have, but there’s something there now.

When Simon saw that spark, the faintest hint of his omega coming back, he chuckled gruffly, his eyes glinting with a possessive heat.

“Yes, spitfire. I want you t’ fight me. Hit me, scream, yell at me, tell me how shit of an alpha I’ve been. I don’t care. Just don’t. Hold. Back.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the dam inside of you broke. Months worth of anger, agony, grief, pain, and aching sadness flooded your veins like a hot, volatile drug. It felt like a living, breathing thing as the emotions curled around your lungs, your muscles, your heart. Tears pushed at your lash line, the aching pain making itself known through the rage.

You held his cold brown gaze for a moment, your eyes searching his. When all you saw in return was steely determination, you did the only thing you could think of. Before he could even move out of the way, you shut your eyes and cranked your head back as far as it would go, and drove your forehead straight into his nose. It wasn’t nearly hard enough to break it, but definitely hard enough to hurt and make the blood start flowing.

He staggered back from you, his hands coming up to cup his nose, but the alpha was far from angry. In fact, he was grinning, the blood pouring from his nose coating his lips and teeth. A low growl of approval rumbled from his chest as he stared at you, approval glinting in his eyes. “Good girl,” he muttered lowly, the praise slipping through so naturally.

As his praise washed over you, you felt your stomach flip. It shouldn’t feel that good. Not after the months and months of neglect so bad that you were literally dying. But, you couldn’t help the small ember of warmth that bloomed through your chest as that muttered praise of good girl flowed through your veins like a warm blanket settling over you.

But, you were still angry. And hurt. And countless other emotions that you couldn’t even begin to name, all just culminating into a neverending ache. And as you saw the blood marring the plush flesh of his lower lip, something inside of you snapped.

He had made his worst mistake. He had let go of you, and now you could truly fight.

You crouched down, using your smaller stature and power legs to kick your leg out, and you swept it across the ground, knocking the much-bigger alpha off of his feet. You watched as his massive frame hit the ground, shaking the walls, a bloom of satisfaction erupting in your chest. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins now, the only thing allowing you to move, and before he had the chance to become reoriented, you were on top of him, straddling his hips as you punched at his chest. Your tears of anguish were falling freely now, sobs breaking free with your yells.

“You have broken me! Broken! I used to be so strong, so happy, and you destroyed that! Ripped it away from me! All because you were too fucking caught up in your own shit, your own fucking fear, that you couldn’t even be half of the alpha you needed to be!”

Simon grunted in pain as his back collided with the cold, hard tile of his quarters, his hands automatically coming up to grab at your hips. Not to shove you off, no, but to keep you on top of him. He knew he deserved this. Every punch, every pointed word, every tear. It was his penance for all of the pain and agony he had put you through, even if it was ripping his heart to absolute shreds.

“I know, I know,” he growled softly, his voice thick with regret. “I know I did.”

You shook your head, tears and snot flying from the force. You were so angry, so hurt, but the adrenaline was quickly running its course, leaving behind only bone-deep exhaustion and pain. Your punches slowly weakened, until you were barely able to lift your hands. Instead, they came to rest on his bare chest, your omega claws digging sharply into the thick muscle that covered his chest, one of your hands digging directly over his heart, needing him to feel a fraction of the agony that coursed through your own.

“Don’t you agree with me! Don’t you dare! Gods, you do this to me for months, and you… you have nothing to say for yourself!? I tried! Tried to be a good spouse, a good omega! I tried to give you your space, to be unobtrusive, even though that killed my omega! And all I fuckin’ got in return is this fucking bond sickness that is killing me! Tearing me apart from the inside out!”

His body shuddered as your claws dug into his chest, his skin breaking under the tiny points. It hurt in every way that it could, but the tiny pinpricks of blood that welled around your claws were nothing compared to how he had hurt you. He knew that he deserved this, every inch of your wrath, of your anger, and the pain it brought for him. It was the least he could do - to bear this for you. But, Gods, it didn’t stop your words from tearing into his heart in a way your claws couldn’t even begin to touch.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he repeated, his words thick with the guilt that was threatening to choke him. “And I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

His apology broke what little strength you had left. The bond between you was fraying, seconds away from snapping completely, and you had never felt more lost. A sob broke free from your lips, the force of the sound causing your body to lurch forward. But, Simon was there. For once, he was there. His chest caught your head, your tears wetting his skin almost instantaneously as your claws scratched down his torso, leaving thin, raised red lines down his scarred skin.

He hissed softly in response to the pain, but he made no attempt to move, to shy away from it. You had completely given up on your ego, your omega so desperate for your alpha, no matter what he had done. But, you were still so hurt, your omega so wounded that you had no idea how you were going to come back from this.

“Just… just tell me why. Why did you do this? Why did you treat me like this?” you sobbed out into his chest, your sour, distressed omega pheromones wafting around him like a shroud of despair.

His alpha writhed in pain at your scent. It was wrong, so, so wrong, but he had done this. His neglect, his apathy, had taken his once strong, ferocious omega and reduced her down to this. He had never seen you like this. And he never wanted to again. He could feel the bond between you slipping between his fingers like shards of glass digging into his very being, and fear rose to take its place. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling your tiny, trembling form against him, his nose burying into your hair as he pressed a featherlight, shaking kiss into it. He swallowed harshly against the lump in his throat, his heart clenching in fear. In pain. In anger at himself. “I was a coward, love.”

You sobbed harder against his chest at his admission, shaking your head jerkily. Your body felt like it was freezing and burning up at the same time, as the frayed edges of the bond dug into you like poisonous thorns. You could feel your mind shattering, your heart stuttering as the bond sickness continued to take hold. You were dying, and you knew it. But at this point, you would almost take death over the amount of pain you were in. “That’s not a good excuse,” came your shaking reply, the words thick with tears and agony, but they were strong with conviction. “Tell me why, Simon. Tell me why, or break the godsdamned bond.”

The words that left your lips felt like they were suffocating the alpha. Break the bond. His arms tightened around you until you were completely pressed against him, and he could feel every shudder, every quiver in your weakening body. A low growl rumbles from his chest, the sound full of pain but also a desperate desire to comfort. He had to try - to even attempt to explain, even if he wasn’t sure it would do anything. But the thought of losing you without even trying made his heart shatter, his alpha howl in protest.

“Because I was afraid,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret and honesty as his knuckles ran across the knobs of your spine. That caused him more pain than you would ever know, feeling how you had atrophied from his neglect. How his dismissal, his abandonment had caused his once strong, beautiful omega, to waste away before his very eyes. “Afraid of getting caught up in you, in this. Of loving you, of giving you part of my heart. I didn’t know how to keep you safe. I didn’t think I was worthy of having something like that, like you. I still don’t.”

“Then break the bond,” you whimpered out, the pain of the bond sickness, of your own emotions, and what little of Simon’s you could still feel through the barest threads of the bond ricocheting through your body, reduced you to little more than a husk lying on top of Simon. Your heart was shattering along with the bond, the broken edges of each splintering in a way that made it hard for you to breathe. Your breath pushed and pulled achingly slowly through your chapped lips like broken glass, just another thing ripping your very being apart.

“If you can’t do this… I’ll… I’ll figure it out. The brass’ll let me stay, at least for a little bit. But, I can’t… I can’t keep doin’ this. ‘M not asking for love. ‘M not asking to be a real marriage, but I can’t be apart of a bond where ‘m not… where ‘m not bein’ taken care of. I can’t.”

Your words were slurring, little more than a broken and pain-filled whimper against his broad chest, and Simon could practically hear the way his heart shatters beneath you. He did this. He did this. And yet, the selfish part of him couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, no matter how much pain he had put you through. The alpha snarled as he wrapped his arms around your ever-weakening frame impossibly tighter, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t hold you tight enough, you’d slip away from him forever.

“No, baby, no,” he replied softly, but the words were filled with a growl of conviction, of promise. “I was stupid. I was so stupid, and I hurt you. Let me… let me fix this, okay? Please, baby. Lemme fix you. Just for right now.”

Simon was begging. You didn’t know if you had ever heard him beg before, but here he was, begging you to allow him the chance to fix you. Your exhausted, wounded omega perked up a bit at his conviction, but you couldn’t help but feel like this was far too little, far too late. “I… I don’t know, Simon. How can you… how can you fix this?”

The pained gasps between your words drove a stake of fear through Simon’s heart, his alpha whimpering painfully. He swallowed harshly against the ever-growing lump in his throat, as he knew that he had to be the pillar of strength. If he broke right now, there was no hope for you. His lips brushed against the top of your head as he inhaled your sour, rotted scent in despair, his hands running up and down your back in a vain attempt to soothe you.

“Let me… let me have a chance,” the alpha, your alpha, pleaded. “Please baby, let me fix this. I’ll do better, I promise. Gods, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me get you better, baby, please. And then, if you still want to break the bond, we can, okay? Just… I can’t lose you. I can’t let you die. Not like this. Never like this.”

You felt, more than heard, his words wash over you. You could feel your body failing, the bond sickness taking what little was left of you. Even with Simon’s touch, with his promises, you had a brief moment of clarity where you just knew that this still might be it, that the bond had been strained too far, the cavernous distance between the two of you still too great, that this bond sickness might still kill you, despite his promises to fix you.

You were so tired. So, so tired. The pain is too much, your eyelids too heavy, and it felt like what was left of your shattered heart wasn’t pumping nearly enough oxygen through your veins. You were teetering on the edge, and all you wanted to do was sleep.

“Just… just let me sleep. In here. With you. Please?” you mumbled, the words soft and slurred. Any fight, any pride you had just a few minutes ago was long gone, and if you were going to die, your omega wanted it to be right here, in your alpha’s arms, taken peacefully in your sleep. “I need… just, please, Si.”

Simon’s resolve shattered at the nickname that fell past your lips. He instantly sat up, gathering your frail, fragile body in his arms as he nodded, his own tears finally breaking free.

His fault. All his fault. Always his fault.

He quickly stood up, your body light (too light, too light) in his arms as he carried you to his bed. He was terrified. He could feel how slow your heartbeat was, how weak your body was, how slurred your words were. He shushed you softly, gently, but the sound warbled against his own tears.

“Shhh, shhh, baby. I got you. I got you. Just… just sleep, okay? I’ll be right here. Right here. Never leavin’ your side again. I promise. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Just sleep.”

He gingerly laid you on the bed, surrounding you with blankets and pillows, anything he could find that was drenched in his alpha scent, before his body came to blanket you. He couldn’t lose you. And he will keep his promise, even as his own silent tears fell down around your now-unconscious face. What’s that old saying? Oh, right. You never know what you have until it’s gone.

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imliterallyf7ckin9crazy · 18 hours ago

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“𝔐𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡… 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔶 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔞𝔭 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢… ℑ’𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔱” (hope yall get this ref)

Nam gyu x reader x thanos

Smoking weed with thangyu :3

Warnings: weed, smoking it, I don’t think they are crazy toxic in this one actually, kind of a poly relationship but not like officially in words? Idk, pre game/ no game AU bitch I have no clue. If you don’t like weed/aren’t comfortable pls don’t read and pls don’t judge 🙏

A/N: this is for me basically. I just thought this would be funny and I haven’t written in like 2 or 3 days and I wanna get back into it bc I miss it IDK😭 and these two are my favorites. America is geeking out and I’m stuck with it for 4 years so to cope imma write abt smoking zaza w squid game characters.

Also these are head cannons I just wanted to have that lyric as the title lol

_______

- dream and nightmare rotation somehow.

- I feel like smoking with them starts out chill ASF. Maybe yall start back at home and roll up, the three of yall cramped together on the couch.

- thanos is chilling at the arm rest end of the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he meticulously distributes the goods evenly on the paper and rolling it to perfection. He even knows how to make those cute pattern filters. He repeats this process a few more times

- you are in the middle, crushed between him and nam gyu. Your head is nestled right on his shoulder blade as he works, and your right arm is looped through his left. No matter how many times he does it, you still always comment on how he’s “faster than last time” or that he’s done a great job. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it

- and then nam gyu is PRESSED up against you. One arm is clutching your torso as he practically lays on you, and the other is reached all the way behind you to rest on thanos’ back. His hands are never ever still so he’d be lightly tapping a rhythm on your skin as he waits impatiently

- once thanos is all done it’s time to smoke 🙏 now here’s some actual stoner HCs. I’ll make it short

Thanos: I wouldn’t say he’s a light weight bc he can get super high and be SET. But he just gets super high every time. Somehow he glitched out of high tolerance hell. Also he is a joint hog >:( ik it’s infuriating to try and get him to pass the fucking joint. Prolly uses it as a mic. Smh.

Nam gyu: has to smoke a lot to get high. Like eventually he gets there but he has to smoke one together with yall (bc he wants to be included) and one for himself. Bro gets sleepy, HELLA. Don’t matter indica or stativa. Honk shoo mimimi. I would say it makes him not keep his hands to himself but when has he ever??? Be prepared.

Together: world’s most stoppable duo. Literally whatever brain cells they had die. They are hanging off each other, laughing at genuinely anything, they don’t make any fucking sense, and to make it all worse they reek but tell each other they don’t. Once they’ve smoked they like to hit the streets together, maybe go clubbing :3 ends in 14 arrests idek

- they don’t skip you in a rotation EVER. They take their system serious asf. It’s always been thanos, you, nam gyu, repeat. And they will be dammed if you don’t get your hits in. They insist on shot gunning it to you (and each other but you ain’t hear that from me)

- they will never say no to more, three joints is just TO START. They got bongs, pipes, carts, brah everything

- they are extra sweet to you when smoking weed. Very cuddly, keeping you between them and then holding each other. You are literally trapped that way. And they keep looking at you with hazy eyes…

- hungry bastards. Usually they get food to eat before and then they can partake after. Sometimes they take you out to like a street vender for a cheap munchie session.

- not often tho. They like you keep you inside and away from other people. They like having you curled up between them, looking at them with glassy eyes, smoking the weed THEY bring you. Thanos and nam gyu are really possessive guys so they like moments where it’s literally just you three chilling.

- they be talking about the most random shit if all time. If yall remember the shower thoughts trend, that’s just the shit they say.

- they the typa guys when high to ask if you’d still love them if they were worms

- (you said yes and that you’d make a little compost bin for them to live in. They liked it)

- compliment city!! “Baby you’re so pretty” from nam gyu and a “don’t look away señorita, i wanna see you” from thanos.

- they hold hands with you.

- if you happen to green out they are with you in the bathroom. Nam gyu will hold your hair if you throw up and thanos is getting water and setting up for bed.

- tbh not all smoke seshs end in getting freaky, but it’s high in likelihood. Bc like cmon. They are freaky. And sometimes the weed be weeding. And they love you, and each other.

- but sometimes they end in just yall cozied up together in bed, rambling abt random shit, holding each other tightly as smoke clings in the air.

_______

Idk I just thought this was funny. I think the world would be much better if politicians talked shit out over a fresh J imma be real. America is hell.

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starlighttsv · 1 day ago

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Lego sets - Paige’s daughter

💌 Syn: paige buys lilah some gifts as a reward for getting good grades

»»— warnings: las!paige - i wrote this way before the draft lottery and was to lazy to change the team and teammates

»»— notes: finally finished bringing stuff over from wattpad!! now i just have to bring stuff from here over to wattpad 😔

»»— word count: 1.6k

»»— pair: paige x daughter!oc || lilah bueckers

Paige, Cameron, Rickea, and Rae all went to target today to get some necessities but Paige was also getting a few things for her daughter, as she had done really good on her spelling test and math test so P wanted to give Lilah a little reward. Paige and Lilah always have mama-daughter dates, and most of those date nights are exactly like this: eating take out or cooking together, baking some type of dessert (mostly already made cookie dough) and building legos while watching some game show on Netflix. It's both of their favorite things to do and they always cherish those nights as they don't get to do it a lot during the wnba season and Paige knew Lilahs gonna grow out of it eventually.

"What about Star Wars?" Rae asks holding up the gaint Darth Vader Lego set "we already did it a month ago" P says not even looking at her, focusing on the Lego boxes in front of her "okayyy what about the Eiffel Tower?" "Did it like 3 three weeks ago" "Stitch?" "A few years ago. Did it my fifth year of college." "Flowers" "have done multiple different ones" "alright we give up" Rickea says as she got tired of them all listing things off, just to immediately be shut down by Paige

Paige ignores them as they keep complaining about anything and everything, just looking at the legos trying to find some good ones, that P knows Lilah will love. That's when she sees a Moana set and a Disney Castle set, which is perfect for Lilah. Paige grabs those and put them in the cart that her and Rae are sharing, Cameron and Rickea sharing another cart.

"Finally! Can we go now?" Rae exclaims "No. I need to get a few more things. You guys can go to the front if you want, I'll meet you when I'm done." Paige says trying to make them not be annoyed anymore, as they all have been at the store for almost two hours, getting stuff they all needed or wanted in their houses. All of their feet's are starting to hurt and not mention they all have been stopped by fans like every 5 minutes.

"No, we're not gonna leave you alone when we've been stopped like 100 times already by fans. What else do you need to get? And why was it so important you get legos today?"Cameron cuts in before any of the other girls could "I need to get some cookie dough, tru fru, milk, chicken tenders, mac and cheese, carrots, mixed fruit, and a stuffed animal. And to answer your second question, Lilah got a B+ on her spelling test and a C+ on her math test, so we're gonna have a mama-daughter date night. The legos, Tru fru, and Stuffed animal are her reward and the food is her favorite meal, and we always bake something on m&d nights." Paige tells them "wait she passed? Those were the ones she was struggling with right?" Rickea asked "yeah, I was helping her study words in the locker room." Cameron cuts in before Paige can say anything "yeah she was struggling with those subjects a lot, so that's why I'm giving her a reward. She doesn't know that I know yet, as her teacher told me so it's gonna be a surprise."

"Alright so let's split up, me and cam will go get the cookie dough, milk, tru fru, and chicken tenders. You and Rae go get the stuffed animal, carrots, Mac and cheese, and mixed fruit. We can meet up at the self checkout. What kind of cookie dough and tru fru?" Rickea adds

"Chocolate chip cookie dough and for tru fru, bananas and strawberries." Paige answers making Rickea nod, and start turning around making Paige and Rae start doing the same, heading to where the stuffed animals are. "Hey Paige, wait" Rickea stops and turns around making P and Rae also do that "when you’re getting the stuffed animal, get some mini brands and lol dolls. I know Lil likes that stuff, My treat." Rickea continues "alright. Are you sure?" P asks "yep, I'm positive." Rickea says making Paige nod "ok, Thank you." Paige replies making Rickea nod and turn back around,- both groups going in different directions to get the rest of the stuff.

They all met up like planned and payed for their own stuff, Paige dropped them off at Cameron's apartment as they’re all getting ready together to go to a bar, and Paige took all her store bags home and set up what could be set up, before leaving to go pick lilah up from school. On the drive back to their home P told lilah that there was a surprise waiting for her making her get excited and start asking and guessing what it was. Obviously Paige wouldn't tell her.

When they got home Lilah was rushing Paige to unbuckle her and get her out of the car, at least Lilah still followed those rules when P knew she really wanted to just run to the house. Paige lifted her out of the car and set her on the ground "don't run yet, I need to get a few things from the car alright?" Paige asks her making Lilah immediately pout, Paige has learned to just ignored that though.

P made her way to the trunk and got her bag and lilahs school bag and then shut the trunk, lilah was still bouncing on the heels of her feet "cmon mama, I wanna see the surprise"

"Alright Alright, come here" Paige says chuckling slightly. P picks lilah up and put her on her hip and locks the car with her keys, then started making her way to the elevator to take the two of them to their apartment

Lilah is still trying to guess what it is and has listed the surprise about 4 times but P lied each time and said she was wrong. They make it to their apartment and Paige set Lilah down in front of the door, grabbed the keys out of her pocket - unlocking and opening the door for Lilah, which she immediately runs through.

She looks in the kitchen first and doesn't see anything as P put all the food away when she dropped the bags off, then she goes into the living room. Bingo!

She sees the legos, stuffed animal, lol dolls, and mini brands set up on the table, she sees the blankets and pillows that Paige brought out and put on the couch, and she sees their favorite game show "the circle" loaded up on the tv

"MAMA AND DAUGHTER DAY?!" She yells mispronouncing daughter "yep! You did so good on your math and spelling test, I figured you deserved a reward. Rickea bought you the lol dolls and mini brands though so you’ll need to thank her next time you see her. "

"I will! Thank you mama!" "Your welcome princess! But there is more, for dinner we are gonna have chicken tenders, mac and cheese, mixed fruit, and carrots. For dessert I got chocolate chip cookie dough, and another part of your reward is tru fru." She just squealed and ran up hugging Paige’s legs, P bent down a little and put one of her hands on Lilahs head and the other on her back, trying her best to hug Lilah back with the gaint height difference

"Alright babe, why don't you go get changed into your pjs and we will start dinner once you come back?" "Okay!" Lilah says and then runs off to her room

Paige goes to the kitchen and gets the chicken and mac and cheese out, filling a pot with water and turning the stove on. Once that's done P goes to her room and changes into her green plaid pj pants and a UConn zip up jacket. Walking back into the kitchen Paige sees Lilah wearing her Olaf onesie Azzi bought her so they could match, standing on her foot stool, leaning on the kitchen counter watching the water

"You ready to make dinner?" Paige asks her while walking closer and looking into the pot of water, seeing that it is boiling "yeah!" Paige opens the box of Kraft Mac and cheese and hand it to her "dump that in the water"

After they made dinner and ate it, they put the leftovers away and got comfortable in the living room, setting blankets and pillows on the floor and making a giant bed/ pillow type thing in front of the living room table

Lilah decided she wanted to open the lol dolls and mini brands now, so while she was doing that Paige opened the Disney castle Legos and started reading the instructions

"Mama look" Lilah said excitedly making Paige look over at her and see her holding a few small food items from the mini brands "wow baby, you��re gonna have your very own pantry soon" that made Lilah giggle a little bit. Once she saw what P was doing Lilah put the other stuff away and pointed to the tv "circle?" Paige asked even though she knew what Lilah wanted, already grabbing the remote and turning on Netflix while she was nodding.

Once the shows turned on they both start working together (pretty much just Paige, while Lilah plays with the legos) to build the Disney castle. Eventually it was built and they cleaned up their mess, laying down on the couch and Lilah laying on Paige’s chest. Paige turned on a Disney movie for Lilah but she fell asleep holding onto Paige’s jacket not even 15 minutes in.

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x daughter!oc #starlighttsv’s works ✍️

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quartztwst · 22 hours ago

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(No Yan Sim AU) Questions for OCs! + Quartz and other characters' lore

You don't have to do these if you don't want to! You can write and answer how ever you want (3rd person or as the OC)

These answers are just examples and they also give lore to other TWST characters in the AU

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Riddle currently lives with his mother. Because of her influence, he is the strictest in the student council (which consists of the dormleaders.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

[You can yap about it here since I already used Quartz as an example in the fourth question]

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Jade is Azul's right hand man. He assists Azul with a lot of student council work and is mostly by his side with Floyd. They are friends from their middle school days and up to their highschool days (although the three of them won't admit it).

Jade found Azul's hardwork and scheming nature very exciting so he and his brother always stayed by Azul's side to see what fun events would happen.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Who again?"

Floyd doesn't really acknowledge Quartz since she's so quick out of his sights. Genuinely believes there isn't a person named that but is suspicious.

Jade: "Oh, that shy girl? She's a little funny."

Definitely suspicious of Quartz but they don't interact much so he has no other information about her. He probably needs to be more skillful when studying her.

Riddle: "Quartz?.. Uh.. I-I don't recall who that is."

Quartz rarely interacts with Riddle.

Ace: "Ah? You mean that girl who's always so weird? I've seen her watch Azul. Pffftt! Do you think she likes him?"

He notices her sometimes because he thinks her appearance is a little flashy.

Idia: "I-Isn't she one of Azul's admirers?... She's the shy type right? She's a little strange though.. Sometimes she takes photos of me! W-Wait.. Maybe she's into me instead?! EEEKK!! H-HOW SCARY!!"

Completely misunderstands Quartz's actions but he's quick to know how weird her actions are. He stays away from her if Azul isn't present.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all 2nd years (17).

Leona has been held back so he is still 20.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz wishes to kill Azul 🙏

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Floyd is jumping her.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Riddle is absolutely reporting that! He's calling the cops and everything 🫡🫡🫡

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Quartz is always in class but she'll come right before the bell rings since she was.. busy. She doesn't have a particular place she goes to all the time. She's never in one spot.

Quartz's lunch spot varies because she's always spying but her usual spot is in the courtyard.

Riddle is assigned being a hall monitor so he usually watches the halls when he is able to. He usually eats lunch with Trey and Cater.

Leona is always found napping under trees and skipping his classes. Ruggie manages to find him and give him his lunch from the cafeteria.

Rook is watching you.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Deuce tries, ok. (Awful)

#twst au #no yandere sim au #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc

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whereubeenloca · 3 days ago

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Leftovers

Part 4 of the Neighbor! Reader series! Table of contents

Summary: Carmy brings you leftover menu items as a thank you.

Tags: VERY slow burn, Awkward flirting

Word Count: 1069

a/n- thank you all for the support! I'm happy yall are digging my silly little stories :)

You realize you don’t know a lot about your upstairs neighbor.

Well, you know his name - Carmen, but it’s not like you talk. You know he works late and wakes up early, you know he smokes based on the collection of cigarette butts that suddenly appeared on your shared stoop after he moved in. Other than that? Nothing, nada, zilch.

This is to say, you were incredibly surprised when you saw his name pop up on your phone.

“You around?”

Yeah, you had his number, but save for the initial “hi” text the thread had remained silent. It’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to type back.

“Yeah, why?”

He doesn’t respond but you hear him moving around upstairs. Heavy footsteps move from one corner of the ceiling to the other, followed by the slam of a door. Before you know it, he’s knocking at your door. You’re quick to open it, shooting him a confused look. He stares back, arms full of small deli containers.

“Hi.” He says curtly, shifting the containers in his arms. “You uh- eat meat?”

You must have made some kind of face at him, because he looks down at the containers and back to you.

“So, no…?” He asks tentatively, you finally snap out of it.

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment, “No- well- yes. I eat meat.” You say simply, looking him over again. “But… what?” You ask, gesturing to the containers vaguely.

Suddenly he’s aware of how odd this looks. His cheeks go red as he clears his throat.

“I own a restaurant.” He says a little too fast, as if his statement explains anything.

You must still look confused because he tries again.

“Was trying out some new stuff for the menu. Uh… lots of leftovers.” He clears his throat as he shifts his weight. “As a thank you for the door thing.” He explains.

You nod at that, he blinks back.

“So… can I…?” He asks, readjusting the containers in his arms.

“Oh- yeah of course. Please.” You stutter, scrambling to the side to let him in.

“Sorry, it’s a mess.” You huff, picking up things as you move through your living area. “Kitchen’s over there.” You say, pointing to your left.

“Cleaner than mine.” He responds, eyes scanning your apartment before he turns into your kitchen.

Kitchen was a strong word for it. Along the far wall sits a row of sad looking cabinets, a fridge and a stove. Carmy’s shoes squeak against the poorly installed linoleum floors as he gently dumps his containers onto the small table in the center of the room. You watch as he fusses over them, arranging them into a line.

“What kind of restaurant do you have?” You ask, looking at the containers. You can’t really tell what any of this stuff actually is. Each container is adorned with its own set of green labels, one with a date the other with its name.

“It's a fine-dining, chaos menu, full service experience.” He rattles off before meeting your confused gaze.

He clears his throat “Uh… a little bit of everything.” He corrects.

You lean your palms into the table to inspect the food further. You gesture to the array of tupperware between the two of you, circling your palm around the three deli containers. “What’d you bring?”

He points to the smallest container. “Mango chutney, pureed.” He says as he picks up another container and places it on top, tapping his finger on the lid. “Goes with the cod. And uh…bucatini in a bolognese sauce. There’s pork and cherry in it. Still working on that one.” He explains, poking the lid at the end of his sentence.

“Sounds really good actually.” You hum in response, shifting your weight with a smile. “You didn’t have to do all this though, Carmen.”

“Carmy.” He quickly corrects.

You furrow your brows. “You said your name was Carmen.” You say, confused. “Right? Have I been calling you the wrong name this whole time?”

“No- no.” He interjects. “I just prefer Carmy. My uh. My friends call me that.” He clears his throat, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. Carmy’s cheeks go pink as he quickly busies himself with a scratch on the surface, dragging the nail of his thumb into it over and over.

You feel your cheeks flush a bit at the word friend. When did that happen? “Well. Thanks, Carmy.” You say softly, testing the nickname.

His eyes flick to yours again, a boyish smile on his face. “Yeah, f’course. I mean, if anything you’re doing me a favor.”

“Yeah?” You laugh in response.

“Oh yeah.” Carmy laughs back, straightening out his shoulders. “I’ve got all kinds of stuff up there, there’s no way I can go through it all.”

“Well I’m glad I could help.” You smile back.”I’m excited to try it later.”

He hums softly as the conversation peters out. The two of you stand there for a second, side by side soaking in one another. You can feel him standing next to you and suddenly you become more aware of your own body. Do you always stand like this? Are you slouching right now? Was he standing this close the whole time? Your mind buzzes with self-awareness you haven’t felt since middle school. You don’t really want him to leave but you can’t think of anything else to say. Before you can do anything, he drums his palms against the edge of the table before pushing off of it.

“I should get going.” He says softly.

“Oh- yeah of course.” You nod in response, “Thanks again for the food.” You smile as you walk him to the door.

“Let me know what you think, yeah? Don’t hold back.” He says as he crosses the threshold into the hallway, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he faces you.

“I’ll be thorough.” You joke. He laughs and you bite back a grin.

Again you swear he’s lingering. He shifts his weight back onto his heels as his eyes stay on you.

“See you around?” You ask, an attempt at a goodbye.

“Yeah.” He looks at his shoes before taking a full step back. “See you.” Carmy raises his hand to you before disappearing up the stairs towards his apartment.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you shut the door.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear #x reader #em's fics #neighbor! reader au

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l1v1ngd3dgrrl · 3 days ago

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yo can u do coquette reader x daisuke pretty please

Daisuke x Coquette! Reader (SFW+NSFW)

an: hope I captured the aesthetic properly, I had to triple check that I was using the right definition.

I'm doing headcannons + mini drabbles, I hope that's ok with you anon <3

MDNI banner: cafekitsune

Cw(s): Use of the nicknames Baby/Princess/Babe/ my girl, praising (Daisuke giving!) , mild nsfw that isn't overly explicit, author is not entirely sure if they captured the coquette style properly.

SFW

How you met

First off, wow. He thinks you look like an angel.

He met you while at a thrift store. You were looking at some porcelain figures, a small rabbit with hand painted details catching your eye specifically.

The more he observed you, the more he wanted to get to know you better..but he didn't want to be a total creep about it.

He stops looking at the various shirts and makes his way over to the isle you're on, playing it cool and pretending to take interest in the various figures in front of him.

An angel with slightly chipped paint makes a light go off in his head.

"Hey uh-" he pauses and holds the angel figure in his hands and gestures it towards you. "I found your twin!' He's smiling nervously, hoping he doesn't come across as some weirdo. When you don't respond he's debating about just dropping everything and running away forever. Some pick up line, huh? When you finally crack a smile smile he relaxes. "Sorry that was cheesy. Uhm I'm Daisuke." He sets the figure down on the shelf. "Well Daisuke nice to meet you, I'm y/n." His mind blanks for a moment, unsure of what to say next. You break the silence by reaching over an picking the angel up and examining it, "So this is my twin huh?" He splutters a bit, fumbling words awkwardly agrees with you. Something along the lines of 'because you're pretty like one' finally leaving his mouth in a coherent way.

You bought the figure and exchanged contact info with him after talking a bit in the store, agreeing on an eventual date.

The first date

You two agreed to go on an official date after three months of talking, something he totally respected and was hyped about once the arrangement was made.

He wants to take you out somewhere nice, but not too up front. Something that he thinks you would enjoy doing is visiting an art exhibit and then eating dinner at this nice little bistro downtown.

When he meets you at the exhibit he's giddy with excitement, and in awe at your outfit. It was simple but still elegant.

During the art exhibit portion of the date he learns you have quite the eye for different French artists, rambling on about the meanings behind paintings and little hidden details that the untrained eye might have missed.

You have brains and beauty, what more can he ask for? (he's learned quite a bit that he never thought he would even be bothered to learn about before.)

Dinner is his treat, he's saved up money for this moment specifically.

During dinner both of you continue to talk, learning more about each other. He learns that you have always adored the 'vintage' hyper feminine style, and how it took you ages to accumulate a wardrobe full of various outfits. Thrifting being one of your common grounds made him so incredibly happy, he's 1000% taking you on a thrifting date if you let him.

(spoiler you do)

"Well, I had a lot of fun." you say as he walks you to your front door. "Thank you for dinner, I had no idea that Bistro was even there!" He chuckles and nods. "I had a lot of fun too! I've learned so much about you," he pauses carefully thinking about his words. "I would really like to take you out again sometime, I think you're a really awesome girl." Your lips curve into a smile and you press a peck on his cheek, a lipstick mark bold against his tan skin. "I'd really like that," you brush away a strand of hair from his face. "I think you're a really awesome guy." you mimic him. He practically melts then and there. "So it's settled, how does next Thursday sound?"

Dating

You two became 100% official after 3 more dates, and you two have been going steady for about 6 months now.

Nicknames he calls you include: a shortened version of your name (if possible that is), baby/babe, my girl. and he'll even whip out the mi amor if he's feeling really romantic.

(tries to) Spoil you with new additions to your wardrobe, or knicknacks. You're 1000% thankful of course, but you don't want him blowing all his money on you.

Your favorite date is when he takes you out downtown and the two of you just spend hours sightseeing and checking out different stores.

NSFW

Now, Daisuke's sex drive is pretty standard for a guy his age and he imagines yours is equally standard for a woman your age as well. He doesn't rush to get intimate with you, lets you call the shots when it comes to initiating. (but not in a submissive way, he's just trying to be a gentleman)

(Though it's not inherently sexual) the nickname princess comes out of his mouth the most in the bedroom, often praising you.

has bought you a couple of lacy bra and panty sets, but melts when you're in your 'grandma' nightgown. Just something about it drives him insane (y'all know that meme about the grandma nightgowns that 'kept her bills paid'? think of something like that.)

rolling back to him praising you, it's not the usual "oh you're taking it so good blah blah blah." WRONG he's telling you how beautiful you look, how angelic you sound, just how perfect you are and how he can't believe how lucky he is to have such a lovely girlfriend.

The headboard lightly thumps against the wall as you buck your hips against Daisuke's. He's below you, groaning and keeping those gorgeous brown eyes fixated on you. Your eyes are shut and lips parted as you moan as you bounce on him. "That's it princess, let it all out." he rumbles, a hand coming up and brushing against your cheek. "feeling good?" you nod and reposition slightly. He chuckles and lets it trail off into a moan. "I'm such a lucky guy to have such a perfect girl"

#18+ mdni #mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke mouthwashing

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 1 day ago

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Hey, you.

If you're American, and you've been having a hard week egg for.. reasons -

I have something to say to the Americans.

Just remember.

They aren't immortal.

Nobility has lied for centuries. They told us they were placed on the throne by God - the rule of the king being the will of the Creator.

The French proved them wrong.

You are young. They are human. They will one day die.

And on the day they die - regardless of if hell is real or not - there will be a movement when they are laying on that death bed. They will feel their live slipping from their grasp.

And they will feel the fear.

The possiblity of eternal consequence.

They will fear what waiting for them on the other side. The one journey they cannot buy their way out of. The moment the bell tolls for thee.

And honestly, the thought brings me peace.

Trumo and Elon AREN'T demons - though it's so easy to think of them as so.

They are evil humans. And all humans die. Trump? He's 80. He's over three times my age. He's older than my grandmother. He eats McDonald's and Diet Coke like no one's business. Knock on wood I'm betting he's got ten years TOPS.

('I'll be the last president' - my ass. If you take a bad fall it's game over dude. You won't release your health records cause you're most likely due for a heart attack soon mfer. Your minions don't like your candy ass Junior enough to have him as a successor and Baron doesn't fucking care so realistically speaking whats your game plan here? 🤨 Elon's kids have too many daddy issues to take your place. You can't even use a sword. Napoleon would slay you where you fucking stand you pansy)

So if you've been struggling this week, I just wanted to remind you.

Black people won our civil rights without the support from the media, without online social networks, without the support from 90% of white people.

70 years ago, around when my grandma was born - I could not sit next a white person in school. If a white man was walking towards me on the street, I'd have to step into the gutter and let him pass. At risk of being actually killed by the whole town if not.

Nowadays in my city I could tell a white guy my age 'Fuck you!!' to your face. Middle finger and all. And they're not gonna put me in jail for it. No stranger is gonna jump in. The whole town isn't gonna care. If anything, people will just record.

That all happened in ONE generation.

So no matter what Trump does.

Remember. He's not immortal. He will die like we all do.

You're young. You'll have the rest of your life to reverse everything he's done.

That's the thing about personality cults. Once the personality is removed, the whole thing falls apart. And the personality in question is once again - an 80 year old who eats Big Macs and wears suits two sizes too large. A man who would probably get genuinely upset if you asked him to recite his 8 times tables.

If Trump dies in the next 10-20 years, before he turns 100, I'll be 35-45. a.k.a - my generation will be entering the older majority. Our generation will be the eldest and the most influencial. What then?

The Trumpettes won't have their leader for their personality cult so they'll have no one - not even their republican parents - to tell them who to think.

We'll be older, wiser. We'll teach our kids the signs. We'll tell them stories what to do, and invest pubic funds to conserve the history of our fight - to never be erased.

If you're scared this week, I understand.

But remember. We've fought harder with less - and we still won.

So keep your head up. Doom is the tool of the enemy. You keep going, you keep living, and you survive to tear down their legacy while the bastard spins in his grave.

Keep going. Keep your angry hearts and clenched fists. Hold on tight to your love and rage. And keep going.

That's what Hobie would want. That's what a Hobie is there to teach us.

Hope this helped someone, anyone, even if it was a little bit. If this helps you get through the day, or the next hour, with the smallest bit of hope - that's all I want.

Thanks for reading this far! Here's Hobie :)

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

And bonus:

Ayo I just gotta add this in here -

Word to god, and when I say this I say this with my whole chest -

I'd be DAMNED before I ever say I'm scared of Donald Trump.

First of all, I'm black and poor. There's been a white man wanting me dead since the moment I left my Mama's hoohaa and guess what, I'm still here. That mfer ain't special. Call me when the klansmen come not when done mfers with tiki torches cosplay call of duty.

Cause none of them coming to the hood..tf.. Try that shit in neighborhood with Bloods and Crips.. Y'all not the only ones with automatics and lots of money. It's just the black people with money and automatics keep shit quiet. If these racist mfers had ppl breaking in they house the way Kendrick had mfers breaking in Drake's with choppers they'd be terrified as fuuuckkk

And secondly there's 4chan fellas out there that probably legit jack off to the idea of a black queer trans person crying in fear. And those mfers can kiss my black ass and kick rocks cause I wake up every day smiling. So -

Anyway I'm done lol

I just had to get this out of my system lol. OKAY BYE FOR REAL

#imagine the day Trump dies #IMAGINE THE MEMES #Come on you gotta stay alive for that #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #trump 2025 #trump inauguration

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tetedurfarm · 24 hours ago

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I know I just have goat fever right now daydreaming, but I would love to hear about your goats. What's their purpose, most annoying trait, anything at all

i am so sorry in advance because i am always brutal when people want animals that i own and they ask me for my opinion. it's a personality flaw. but i need people to understand why animals suck before i say why they are fun lmao

why goat:

my goats are for milk mainly. i have a nigerian dwarf, a mini nubian, a mostly-nigerian 'mini-nubian', and a kinder. their milk is actually really good, all of them, and their production is good for my needs. i expect each to make about half a litre or so a day at peak production this year, going off of numbers from last year. it will be violet's third freshening, and phoebe's second, and they generally increase in production every year for the first three or four years before levelling off. i am not planning to breed hallow unless i find someone with a nigerian buck that they don't mind letting me borrow, cos derek is just way too big for her i fear. turnip will be on her first freshening. i prefer the mini nubians and kinders to the nigerians because they have more ground clearance and bigger teats so it's easier to use a machine on them. hand milking the itty bitty titties isn't awful but i try not to hand milk if possible lol

i do eat kids because i can't sell them, and they are dairy goats so they aren't exactly the meatiest things on the planet, but it's food. i like the taste of wether and doe but buck is stanky.

what i hate about goats:

crime. i know it's the joke but genuinely goats are little shits and your new favourite hobby is now fence the second you put one on your land. literally any sort of weakness in their enclosure they will get through. cannot overstate. if you use electric fence as their primary enclosure (if you want them to mow a weird spot for you or something) they have to be net and they have to hit hard. provided it's grounded right, my net fence with a 1 joule solar charger can hit around 4k max and they will ignore that if they want something on the other side bad enough. however they will usually respect it if they have plenty to eat within the legal zone. you cannot tie a goat because they will strangle themselves trying to eat something outside of their range or slip their collar and do whatever they want.

they will climb on anything they possibly can, including buildings and enclosures. they will also rub on things which is fine sometimes if it's a brush mounted on a pole and bad sometimes when it's your fence. also if they can stick their head through a fance they will do so and if they have horns they will get stuck. sometimes they will get stuck without horns. the issue i have the most with them sticking their heads through fence is they push on it so hard it can warp cattle panel fences and stretch tension ones so i just have to make sure they aren't overly mcfucking everything every now and then.

speaking of horns it is sort of a personal preference on whether or not you do horns. horns look sick af and help them thermoregulate in hotter climates but also horns suck ass and make a lot of things difficult if you are milking them. horns don't always fit into milking stanchions, and i have had enough situations with a bitchy nanny on the stand where if horns were involved i would have been pretty badly injured. they will press them against things because it feels good and again that's fine if it's a post and bad if it's you. my horned goats don't seem to headbutt things like my ram does, and my goats are little so they can't push me over when they press on me, but if they were normal sized goats we'd be having words. trying to medicate horned goats is a pain because i can't just pop them between my thighs unless i want really wicked bruises. i did not want horned goats. the only reason i have two is because one i didn't go deep enough when i was dehorning him, and the other i didn't plan to keep so i didn't bother. there is a nonzero chance i will replacing the horned doe with a daughter this year just because i don't want to deal with it :/

feed-wise they aren't too bad but they are ruminants and have ruminant problems. but you have rabbits and a lot of the same things apply so it's not a huge deal. they need roughage constantly which means if you don't have grass you have to buy hay, and if you can't get it cheap then get fucked. everyone's feeding methods and routine is individual to their needs and herd but mine have free-choice local hay, and i give them a flake or two of alfalfa a day depending on their condition (less in summer when there's grass, more in winter when there isn't.) i give a little grain twice a day; i personally find it less expensive and better and keeping condition on them than just alfalfa, plus it serves as a great incentive to get them all back in the shed when i need. same as the alfalfa, they get less in summer and more in winter, just kinda eyeballed and adjusted as needed to keep condition. the buck and his wether get less grain and their alfalfa is pelleted because it just works a little better with how their feeders are set up. speaking of feeders - goats LOVE standing in feeders and will shit and piss in them and then decide the food is inedible. we screwed 2x4s about six to eight inches over their troughs to prevent this but it makes the horned ones' lives harder so we will need to adjust them. in general goats will not eat food once it touches the ground. it's really fucking annoying because they will waste so much fucking hay that way if you don't have some kind of solid bottom to their feeders. this is An Problem with alfalfa because they ONLY eat the leaves and rarely eat the stems, but the leaves just fall out of normal hay racks and onto the ground. which is lava, obviously. also, they will get addicted to alfalfa and grain. and if you do not give them these things every day they will make your life hell. which is like, fine, if that is part of your feeding plan, but let's just say it took beetlebug over a month of constant screaming before he finally adjusted to his new diet of not being free-fed alfalfa like he was at his old home. he nearly was returned to sender x:

my goats are not huge fans of treats/cookies for some fucking reason and will only eat them if they're apple flavoured. most people do not have this problem.

this is only really a con for me because i also have sheep, but because sheep can't have copper in their mineral i have to bolus my goats a couple of times a year as needed which is a pain in the ass. the fig newton trick does not work because of aforementioned 'we only eat apple cookies' reasons so i have to do it the hard way and it's a rodeo every single time and i hate it. you know they need copper because their fur will get kinda dull and sometimes curly, and they will get what's called a 'fishtail' where they will start going bald on the tip of their tails. it's more a problem for me in winter because we have good copper in the soil, but when there's no grass they need a little help.

goats have soft feet that don't grind down well so you have to trim them which isn't a huge issue but just like, an issue. it's hard on my body particularly so i don't do it as often as i know i should. a trimming stanchion is worth the money. also make sure you get good quality shears because shitty ones will kill your hands.

goats do not suffer in silence and much like cats their definition of suffer is sometimes not actually suffering at all, and is just like....you did not give them alfalfa at Exactly the same time one day so you get to listen to shrieking until you do it. my nursing mamas sleep in a different area that is closer to the house and they will get Real Mad for a couple days the first few times i put them in there at night, and then also every morning if they run out of hay.

if it matters to you, the milk is naturally mostly homogenised and it means if you want to make cream or butter or whatever you have to have a cream separator which are complicated, expensive, and annoying to clean. the milk will separate a little bit on its own, so i guess if you really wanted to you could just skim it every day but you still won't get all of it without a separator.

and lastly, if you keep a buck then you get to deal with Buck Issues™️. famously, bucks stink. my old buck stank all the time, but derek is actually not so bad. outside of horny season he has very little smell but even when he's pissing on himself to appeal to the ladies he isn't nearly as fragrant as orion was. orion you could smell from a mile away. they are also rough on fences and gates for goat reasons but also for horny reasons if there's a doe on the other side. make sure your gates latch Real good. they also need less fat in their diets, can be pushy, and need a companion of some variety or they will get sad. derek lives with beetlebug, who is wethered, and they get along well. some people can keep bachelor groups but it seems to be the exception, and i personally have no need for multiple bucks so i can't give you any firsthand experience.

what i like about goats:

milk milk milk milk milk. it's real good. at least my goats' milk is; not all breeds have tasty milk. to me my goats' milk just tastes like slightly above 2% cows' milk, with a little bit of a grassy or piney taste depending on what they've been eating. mini nubians are nigerian/nubian crosses so their milk is very high in fat and very sweet. kinders are pygmy/nubian crosses so they are a little meatier and the milk is sweet but a little less high in fat.

they are very personable animals and usually will eat out of your hand even if they aren't fan of being pet and cuddled. bottle-raised ones can range from 'dog you can do anything to and likes hanging out with you' to 'trying to climb you constantly and eat your hair' but i have never had that last problem because i don't allow climbing or constant pestering. the worst i've had with a bottle-raised kid was daisy being really like...sexually aggressive towards me and that's why she's in the freezer now. they have big personalities and they are very fun to watch do their little goat thing and there is constant pecking order politics happening to spice things up.

they come in lots of pretty colours and you can mix and match pretty easily to find a breed or cross you really enjoy. like i said, i like the mini nubians and kinders because they are on the smaller side - around 60, 70lbs or so for the does i would guess? and their heads are right at bellybutton range for me who stands 5'8" - bit still have a lot of space between the udder and the ground so they are easy to milk. the nubian in them also helps their teats be a good size and their milk to stay rich.

them being browsers is sort of a blessing and a curse. they are awesome for clearing areas of brush, which is a pro for me who lives in himalayan blackberry hell, but if you want them to mow their lawn they'll only eat grass if there's nothing else. browsing is also why they are so rough on fences and why they tend to eat more shit they shouldn't, they just stuck their head through fence and try whatever they can. the browsing is why i like running sheep with them; the sheep graze and the goats clear.

in conclusion

i know that cons list is huge but i do genuinely like my goats. and i think we all know that i just like animals that make my life objectively worse. i don't know why i'm like this. they do really suck ass sometimes though and i absolutely understand why so many people hate goats. they are absolutely not for everyone. if you drink a lot of milk you are honestly probably better off getting a cow if you want an animal that probably doesn't make you want to pull your hair out at least once a month. if you just want lawnmowers, get sheep. they aren't as personable or friendly usually but they are content to eat grass and shit and don't cause near the amount of crimes.

#ag talk #questions #sorry to crush anyone's goat dreams but...yeah.#they are so very annoying lmao #clearly not even CL would make me give them up but my life WOULD be much easier if i just had some sheep and a cow haha

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s0fter-sin · 2 days ago

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(cw mental health struggles)

ghost isn’t allowed to be alone on leave

it’s a rule the 141 have known since the formation of the task force; set with such severity by price that soap and gaz could never bring themselves to question it. leave is rare anyway, so it honestly slips their minds

then las almas happens. shepherd happens. makarov happens

too much happens in too short a time that even price agrees they need a break

so he gives ghost the option; either he joins one of the others for the duration of their leave or they set up a check in schedule

it used to grate on ghost, this presumed helplessness; that he's someone who needs to be taken care of

then he came back from an enforced leave 20 kilos lighter; his limbs heavy and stiff from laying thoughtlessly in bed, the days blurring together long before he could grasp them

ghost can't be alone, not bc he's a flight risk, but bc losing his purpose makes him aware of how everything is just too much; how much every small action builds up until it's actually a dozen small actions that become insurmountable when he's caught in the depths of fatigue

it starts with laundry; it makes sense to live out of his duffle instead of unpacking, but then he runs out of fresh clothes. it still makes sense to only wear the clothes he'll bring back to base so he just bears the building reek of body odour until he can't smell it anymore

showering starts to go around the same time; without the constant distraction of work and training, all his pain and exhaustion catches up to him. the thought of hauling his body out of bed, of standing long enough to get clean, having to wash his hair and drag a bar of soap over his body just to then do the same with a towel and put on a new set of clothes... it just seems never ending. it's easy to miss a day here and there, then a few more when he gets used to laying there on his sweat-yellowed sheets. then before he knows it, it's been three weeks and his skin itches with the weight of his discomfort and the layers of filth

ghost tries to hang onto food the longest

he knows how much damage it'll do to his body to suddenly lose the macros and caloric density it's used to, knows it'll take longer to recover from than anything else... but then he runs out of his frozen meal prep. his fresh vegetables start to wilt and spoil and the guilt of letting them go bad stops him from buying more. protein lasts slightly longer if he eats it straight from the frypan instead of putting it on a plate but he cooks more to make up for the lack of sides and runs out quicker than he anticipated

but he's used the same pan night after night, built up burnt seasoning and meat residue and he knows he has to clean it before he can use it again. but that means moving it from the stove to the sink. means turning the sink on and scrubbing the pan clean of its stubborn muck. means drying it to put it back on the stove that's just as filthy and should be scrubbed too

it's too much

so ghost leaves the dirty frypan on the dirty stove and eats vegetables out of cans that he only needs to drain

then he runs out of forks

then he runs out of cans

he stops wearing clothes so it won't itch his dirty, irritated skin. he gives into the fatigue clawing at his eyes and weighing down his bones bc the only time he doesn't hurt is when he's asleep. but sleeping so much, laying down so much just makes his body ache in new ways

then he can't make himself get out of bed for shitty food he doesn't even want; that hurts him just to get

he gets hungry. then he's starving. then the hunger goes away altogether and he knows that's the point he should be worried but the only food he has is instant noodles and tea and even waiting for the kettle to boil to make them is just...

it's too much

it's all too much

why is existing so much work

he’s so tired

it’s

too

much-

ghost isn't allowed to be alone on leave

the check ins are harder but he wants to pretend he'll be better; that he won't need as much help, that price won't have to worry so much about him this time

so he picks the check ins; watches his captain give his subordinates their schedule of alternating shifts, each a maximum of three days apart. watches the doubt, then the worry, then the determination as he gives them their marching orders and list of tasks they need to ensure they complete before the end of each check in

and he tries not to be ashamed when every time, without fail, he needs their help

needs soap to gather his sweat-crusted laundry, somehow without an ounce of judgment or disgust; all too happy to tackle the fitted sheet if it means he can feel something fresh against his skin

needs gaz to wrap him in a towel and blow dry his hair when he can manage to move his rust-coated limbs into the shower. he lets him use his own products to wash his face, his hands soft and gentle as he holds his head up and smoothes sweet smelling oils into his undeserving skin

needs price to bring the meals he preps for him; listens to him explain the macros and calories in each container as he washes the few dishes that made it to the sink and puts a new packet of disposable cutlery on the counter within easy reach

it's still so much sometimes, even with all their help; little things a normal person wouldn't think twice about doing building up in his head and it makes him so angry that he just can't do them

that he's beaten by something as benign as a little pain and tiredness

but as price, gaz and soap remind him, that's what they're there for; to help him when he can't help himself, when things get too much. they watch each other's backs, no matter if the battlefield is a desert in urzikstan or an apartment in manchester

they have him

he isn’t alone

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bellyaz · 1 day ago

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CW: Humiliation/Degradation

Your weight is out of control, like seriously.

I didn’t wanna say anything cause I know I played a part in it, but this is insane. At first, I didn’t think about it cause everyone gains weight sometimes, yknow? It’s normal. But you’ve blown up so quickly, it’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose.

I can admit that it all started after that treacherous group project- even though you weren’t that small back then, but whatever. I didn’t see the harm in a hotbox followed by some fast food after every session. I thought it would be a nice treat after we put in all that work.

And when the project was over our group saw it right to celebrate. So we went even bigger; edibles at the buffet. Again, I can admit that we all ate more than we could usually handle, but you? You made a spectacle of yourself. You carried two packed plates each time you got up and it sounded like you were out of breath each time you had to get up. I don’t know if you realized, but when we were leaving your shirt rode up and everybody could see your belly and the top of your ass crack. Oh, and your shirt was clinging to your belly. You even said you looked pregnant, then you started rubbing your gut like you were. We thought it was funny and a couple other people even joined in. But I digress.

Even after the project when we really became friends, we would do the same thing. Get high and eat, get drunk and eat, get cross faded and eat. I noticed you pudging up, but I thought you would bounce back like I do. But you didn’t, and I think it might be too late for that anyway.

You know what else I noticed? You have like, no more stamina. Everybody has to climb the same flight of stairs to get to my room, but you be huffing and puffing when you get here and it lasts for at least five minutes. And it’s getting worst. Like fuck, I’m only on the second floor.

I mean, we can’t even go out anymore cause when you’re always complaining about how all of your clothes are too tight. I mean they are, sometimes when you’re reaching for stuff your belly peeks out… and your shorts ride up a lot. But it’s so obvious why they don’t fit. So we end up staying in, getting faded, and ordering a bunch of food.

And I’m sorry, but going to the mall with you is so draining. I love the shopping and stuff but you start complaining about how you’re “starving” after one store and I end up in the food court waiting for you to go to two or three different restaurants. And THEN I have to sit and wait for half an hour while you shove everything down your gullet while people stare. Aren’t you embarrassed by that?

Ugh, and when we go grocery shopping? The junk you put in your cart is something to be ashamed of. I know Little Debbie HATES to see you coming. I mean, pints of the fattiest ice creams, chips, snack cakes, 2 liter sodas, chocolates, candies… Your cart is always packed but there’s never a vegetable in sight. Isn’t that concerning?

And it’s showing in your body. You have stretch marks all over your belly and love handles, your arms are puckering, you have a double chin now, and your thighs have cellulite all over them. Fuck, you jiggle with every step you take. And again, you’re out of breath all the time. When you come by me, when you get up to go to the bathroom, when you eat... I can literally hear you breathing hard right now, and you’re just sitting there.

Is this your fetish or something? No judgement. I mean, why else would you be doing this to yourself? You stuff your face then “joke” about how fat you feel, like you want me to validate your gluttony or something. You always wear these skimpy little clothes when you come over like you want me to ogle at your growing body, and you eat until you can’t move every time we stay in. And even when we would go out, you swore you couldn’t leave until you ate, which duh, you don’t wanna be out for hours with an empty stomach. So on top of being bloated from the pregame, you packed your gut with some greasy bullshit from the closest fast food place instead of something that would actually keep you full. Cause you would bitch about being hungry like hour into the functions.

So be honest. Does it get you wet? When you overeat and you’re moaning about how fast you made yourself do you soak through your panties? Are you gonna cum in your itty bitty shorts if I touch your fat ass stretched out gut? Hm? What if I pulled your shirt up and made you jump? Actually… I saw you bite your lip a little earlier. Oh my gosh, you got off to this whole conversation, didn’t you?

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gotham-daydreams · 21 hours ago

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HEY I finally managed to put my thoughts together and write this and damn why so much? Half of this is pure nonsense and emotions you can skip reading I'm just glad to read and this day too yuhu

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED AT THE END

oh shit today I read the chapter slower BUT how else? DAMN I WROTE TWO SHEETS OF A5 PAPER writing down any thoughts that came to my mind and putting together what had already happened in the past days (I hope I can now figure out what I wrote because it would be a shame not to understand)

The end of the world, aliens who want to take over the earth? DESTROY? Brainwashed cultists, SECRET SOCIAL SCIENCE BRAINWASHED MAYBE ENTIRE COUNTRIES? Okay, the last nonsense of a skunk

Damn, I knew that the emphasis on what card MC had in the previous chapter meant something, I knew it! And his behavior, he's a cultist for sure. (I remembered the meme "Are you somehow connected to the darknet?" "I'm not just connected, I control it" repeat what you said-)

And now, having seen Dickhead's behavior and the sand in Duke's suit, Cas' behavior in the past, I definitely remain with the theory that "MC IS DEFINITELY NOT PART OF A SECT AND IS NOT BRAINWASHING EVERYONE ELSE, WELL, THAT CANNOT BE" sarcasm.

what's next, oh yeah, a sudden warming in the fall. (I don't remember if it was the beginning of fall or the end, so I'm not sure) warming? abrupt? what is already happening with the sun? or is the earth itself also under the influence? Or a way to catch up with the atmosphere and I see complete fuck-up in everything..

Red Dawn (let's ignore the fact that it's a sci-fi/action movie, I don't think it's related) Do they by any chance have horizons that light up red in the morning? Then it would be possible to somehow connect the weather, the title, and what's happening together.

bodies disappear. from coffins.. in general they disappear leaving only sand. Either the body leaves or ALIEN CREATURES EAT THE BODY SOMEWHERE ABSORBING FLESH BONES AND ALL THEREBY REPRODUCING. Oh no I'm not sure about any of these options but the last one didn't sound too tasty

Let me get back to the main topic that worries me the most? MC is a fucking cult member, I'll bet three boxes of pineapple pizza on that and oh my god he obviously has an effect on those around him, but does he do it on purpose? Yeah, maybe..considering he has something to hide judging by the last chapter. If he influences others then it turns out he's already infected too? Infection? Fuck, if he's not a meta or a skilled manipulator/psychologist then that's the only option left in my head. And how does he infect?..maybe food or subconsciously and does he infect or just subjugate the general idea? It hasn't dawned on me yet. And again we'll get back to the pink card that's been tormenting me since the day before yesterday (I'm losing track of time). Do they give it to cult members? How do cultists somehow stumble upon a bank? Does it serve as a designation between them? So there are a lot of questions and thoughts..

damn, I still have so many thoughts in my head that I have no one to express, but it seems to me that if I continue to express everything I think or notice in one breath, I will be closed down in Arkham (it's good that it's anonymous)

Sorry for such a huge amount of nonsense that I write lately, I'm just a damn fan of this work, I miss reading exactly this in my life, your works are like a breath of fresh air in this pile...neglected...

Keep up the good work, damn I can't wait for the fifth day (to say whether I was right or wrong to myself..and then here too)

Honestly I really don't mind, and feel really honored and flattered that a little idea of mine has sparked this much thought!!! It really sucks that I can't comment on anything JUST yet... but I will say that I'm unsure if I should use a surprised pikachu face or something like that.

So...

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #the red dawn #okay but seriously i love this!!#i will say you're extremely close and will find out just how much on Day 5 :]#these have honestly been a joy to read!

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suburbonlegends · 3 days ago

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@penna-nomen I went a little sideways with this but I hope you still enjoy it!!

Mozzie walked into, frankly, a mess.

Neal was sitting at the dinning table, which really was a cheap card table, cutting up the blank papers they had been prepping for the next bonds.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, setting their take out and fresh bottle of wine on to the table. “Do you know how long-“

“They’re a disaster Moz. Completely unusable. The, the weight of the paper sucks, and it’s making the coloring bleed, like- look at this.” He slides one of the cut up squares over to Mozzie.

Mozzie can’t see anything, other than some microdots of seepage. “What are you talking about, these would’ve been fine-“

“Fine doesn’t cut it. They have to be perfect and these papers are far fucking from it.” Neal picks up his exacto knife and resumes cutting the papers.

They’ve been running for three days, and are currently hiding out in a cheap apartment in San Francisco, and clearly the toll was starting to wear on Neal. Mozzie needed to remind himself that, despite his proficiency for crime, Neal wasn’t used to the lifestyle yet.

Mozzie had rented the place for two weeks, but they needed to turn in the bonds in two days. “Kid, listen-“

“I’m not a kid.” Neal huffs, glaring at Mozzie through his eyelashes in a way that makes him, in fact, look startlingly young.

“Neal,” he amends, “we have thirty-six hours to turn these in, after that the banks will be closed for the holidays and we’re screwed. If we want to take advantage of the holiday season, we need to-“

“I’ll have them Mozzie, okay! I will! Just not with this paper!”

“Okay, okay.” Mozzie sighed. One of his greatest skills as a conman was knowing when he was talking to a brick wall. “I’ll find new paper tomorrow. Right now you’re going to eat and go to bed.”

Neal snorted and grabbed one of the cut square he made, running his fingers over it. “When did you suddenly become my dad?”

“When did you start swearing and calling me Mozzie instead of Moz?”

Neal’s expression faltered and he sat back in his seat, backing down from the tension and anger that had started to brew in him.

They weren’t friends, exactly. They were…codependent. Neal had the looks and the charm but lacked in experience, and Mozzie had experience but…They weren’t friends. As soon as Neal learned everything Mozzie could teach him, he’d set off and start running the gambit on his own.

So, in an effort to savor the profits while he could, Mozzie plated the food and poured the wine and brought it over. In the time he was gone, Neal turned the quarter finished bond forgery into a small paper crane and was working on a second one. His movements were sure and confident, and soon the second bird earned its place.

“You do origami a lot?” Mozzie asked.

Neal shrugged, quickly taking a bite before he started on a third. “Used to. I learned that…yknow, about the belief that a thousand could grant wishes. And we had… once my mom bought a bunch of wrapping paper from some kids raising money for a fundraiser. It was- whatever. We had a bunch of it and no use for it, so.” He finished the bird and flicked it, watching it slide to Mozzie’s side of the table.

“Did you ever make a thousand?”

“I made two thousand before we ran out. Hung a bunch of them from my ceiling. The wrapping paper was all glittery, kind of looked like constellations at night.” Neal hummed a little, eyes far away as he recalls wishing on stars he crafted himself. “It was…nice actually. Even if they didn’t work.”

Mozzie tapped his wine glass a few times in consideration. “Maybe, maybe not,” he picked up his glass and held it towards Neal. “Might just not have had a…wide enough scope of what a wish coming true looked like. Maybe just need to adjust your scope.”

Neal grinned at him then, a small light returning his tired eyes, and picked up his wine glass to tap against Mozzie’s. “To wishes coming true?”

“To wishes coming true!”

It wasn’t that night, but Neal did get some real sleep for the first time in days. It wasn’t the next day, but Mozzie did manage to get the better papers. It wasn’t in two weeks, when they pocketed the cash, and it wasn’t in a year, when they were living the good life.

It was six years later, in a Brooklyn home, with the worst company Mozzie could ever imagine enjoy keeping, that a folded crane slid across the dining table toward him.

Neal smiled and winked, flicking a second paper crane between his fingers and making it disappear before he turned his attention back towards the story Elizabeth was enthusiastically telling. A rush of understanding passed through Mozzie at the look of contentment on Neal’s face and the relaxation in his posture, clearly happy in the loving environment they had found themselves in despite the circumstances.

To wishes coming true indeed.

#my writing

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pawnshopbleus · 2 days ago

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These Are the Days Chapter Fourteen - Girl in Red

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School au

For the summary, warnings, and more, please visit here.

previous chapter.

cw: a fight and mention of homophobic slur used (word not written out)

Abby couldn’t be happier. When she saw the look of surprise on your face when you opened the door, she knew that’s where she wanted to be: with you and her friends.

Ellie and Dina left early in the morning, and Jesse followed them a few minutes later. Abby lay there with you slumped on her shoulder. As she looked around, she noticed the lack of photos and decorations. Abby’s home was littered with pictures of her as a kid, on fishing trips with her dad, her at her eighth grade dance, there’s even a picture of Ellie on her living room wall. Your house — although beautiful in its own right, lacks the homeliness a person needs to grow.

Abby sighed at the thought of you missing out on so much due to the neglect of your parents. You have the right to be an awful person. You have the right to shut everyone out, but you don’t. You are the best person Abby’s ever met. You changed her life for the better, and she hopes to do the same.

Soon after the clock strikes nine, you stir awake and groan, the tangy taste of beer still lingering on your tongue. You don’t move from your spot, fearing that this is all a dream. That you will move a limb and be transported back to your bedroom in California. No matter how much you miss your beachy town and your overpriced everything, you’d rather stay here. At this moment, nothing else matters except you and the girl who changed everything for the better.

Abby says your name. The second you hear the beautiful timbre of her voice, you can tell that she’s been up for a while. You look up at her, your tired eyes working against the rays of sunlight streaming in through the curtains.

“I need to ask you something,” she said, her voice laced with worry and something else. Hope, maybe? “Will you be my girlfriend?”

…

“This is Vic Issac with KKWF radio; how may I help you?”

“I just found out that my husband of ten years cheated on me with his secretary. I mean, how cliche is that? I am more upset at-”

Your hand quickly moves to turn off the radio in Abby’s car. You would rather hear a car alarm than hear someone complain about their relationship problems again. Abby’s hand finds purchase on your thigh as she steers and weaves effortlessly through the streets of Bellevue.

It has been a week since Abby asked you to be her girlfriend. In other words, it has been a week of pure bliss. She picks you up in the morning, opens the door for you, and drops you off after softball practice with her letterman safely in your arms. You’re pretty sure your bike is starting to feel neglected with how little you use it now.

Abby pulls into her normal spot at the front of the school and rushes over to your side of the car. When you’re with her, she treats you like a princess. You wish you could do the same, but Abby insists that she’s fine.

Jesse isn’t too happy about the new couple in the group. As the only man, it was hard enough, but now, as the resident fifth wheel, he is starting to feel like dating apps are a good option.

You and Abby had been successful at avoiding Owen all throughout the week. If you saw him walking down the hall, the two of you would rush into an empty classroom. If he was in the lunch line, you and Abby would sneak out and eat somewhere down the road.

Maybe it was fate that brought the three of you into this situation. Or maybe it was the fact that Owen is one of the worst people on the planet.

You didn’t see him barreling down the hallway with a smug look on his face. It wasn’t until his shoulder met yours that you finally recognized his presence.

“Watch where you're going,” Abby spat.

“The fuck you just say to me?” Owen walks menacingly toward Abby.

The two of them square up. Abby, being only a few inches shorter than Owen, puffs her chest out to make herself seem taller. The tension in the middle of the hall was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“I said, watch where you’re going.”

“What are you gonna do about it-” The next word out of Owen’s mouth is a word only uttered by the ignorant. It’s ugly and hateful and has no place in anyone’s vocabulary.

Everything happens too fast for you to recount. Owen is on the floor. Abby is on top of him, delivering blow after blow while he struggles against her weight. People close in on the three of you. Some are taking videos while others chant. You can see Ellie, Dina, and Jesse cheering Abby on.

You snap out of your trance and try and get Abby to stop. This is a side of her you have never seen. The primal urge to protect those who mean the world to her is noble, chivalrous, and destructive. As you watch her in this state, you can’t help but look at the way her muscles ripple every time she cocks her arm back or the way she grunts in anger. You shouldn’t be feeling this way when she’s in distress, but damn, does your girlfriend look hot.

…

The front office is colder than the rest of the school. Abby’s knuckles are bloody and bruised under the ice pack provided by the nurse. Owen is alive, but his ego isn’t. After getting beaten up by his lesbian ex-girlfriend, he can kiss his social life and everything that came with it goodbye. His dad isn’t all too happy either, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re about to go to prison for tax fraud.

The principal's secretary comes out of the shadows and beacons the two of you forward. “Now, don’t be scared and tell the truth,” She opens the door to the principal's office and closes it behind you.

The principal, a tall, slender, and elegant woman with a little midwestern twang to her voice, greets the two of you as you sit down. Her office is warmer than the climate you just left, but being under her gaze sends a shiver down your spine. On her desk sits a cup full of pens, two picture frames facing away from you, and a placard in the middle of her desk. Engraved in fancy letters is her name, Principal Servopoulos.

“I can’t say that I’m happy to have you in my office under these circumstances. The behavior you exhibited today is unacceptable, Ms. Anderson. What possessed the captain of the softball team to act that way?”

Abby's leg bounces as she looks down at her injured hand. You can’t help but feel slightly responsible for the outcome of this situation. If you could have just stood your ground and told Owen to fuck off, maybe the two of you would be in your history class, holding hands under the table. Hypotheticals aren’t going to help in this situation.

“He deserved it,” Abby grits.

Mrs. Servopoulos shakes her head. “That is neither here nor there. What is important is that you assaulted another student. As a principal, I cannot allow you to participate in any of the upcoming school activities, and I will have to revoke your title as team captain and member of the softball team.”

Your eyes go wide. “You can’t do that! Abby’s worked too hard for this.” “Ms. Anderson is lucky she isn’t expelled!” “And what punishment is Owen getting for calling her a — that word?”

“As the principal of this school, I cannot discuss the status of other students,” Mrs. Servopoulos said, leaning in close and whispering as if she were sharing secret information. “But as a lesbian woman with a wife and a kid, I’m going to make him regret opening his mouth.”

…

After school, Abby didn’t want to go home. She couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment on her dad's face. She could kiss all hope of going to college goodbye as her record would be permanently stained.

She could say she didn’t know what came over her, but that would be a lie. She knew exactly what it was. The urge to protect you from the one thing that made her life a living hell.

As her knuckles met his skull, she could feel all the pent-up tension and frustration she held in the past few years. Punch after punch, she felt herself getting better. Was it a conventional way of overcoming something? No, but it felt good.

Abby drove the two of you to the pier and refused to let you pay for anything. She was the one who got into trouble, after all.

The ferris wheel creaked and groaned under the the two of you, tt’s hinges tired after so many years of use. Abby's arm is thrown across your shoulder, bringing you in close.

“I’m sorry we can’t go to homecoming,” you sigh.

“I’m the one who can’t go. You didn’t do anything, so, to quote Principal Servopoulos, ‘you are exempt from any punishment.’”

“If you can’t go homecoming, then why should I? We’re in this together now, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Abby says under her breath. “I’m sorry for getting you into all of this mess.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry. You saved me, and I’ll be forever grateful.”

Under the twinkling stars and the silvery moon, Abby looks even more radiant than usual. You push a strand that had found its way out of her braid behind her ear and let your hand linger there momentarily.

“Can I kiss you?”

You can’t remember who asked who, but you can remember her soft, velvety lips touching yours.

Tag list: @rew1nds, @colbyweirdo, @mylettterstoyou

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#lesbian #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby x reader #the last of us part 2 #tess servopoulos

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