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#I don't even know if I answered the question
flouryhedgehog · 3 days
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Voting is a tool.
By which I mean, voting is just a tool; it isn't sacred or magical.
And by which I also mean, voting is one tool that is good for one kind of purpose. If it isn't suitable for the goal you're trying to achieve, you need different tools.
Every time someone makes a post on here rightly criticizing Joe Biden's support for genocide, there's at least one person in the notes saying "but remember, you still have to vote for him!" or, "did you know Trump wants to deport Muslims?" or, "then who do you want me to vote for?"
But that's like going into a plant nursery and demanding they sell you the correct drill bit for planting a tree. They will never sell you the drill bit you want, because the drill bit you want--the drill bit suitable for planting trees--doesn't exist, and also plant nurseries don't sell drill bits.
Standing in the plant nursery asking about drill bits will probably initially get you people explaining to you where to find a shovel, and a watering can, and some mulch, because those are tools that will help you plant the tree. If you ignore the attempts to educate you, and start yelling about how they must just want you to throw away your drill, and also they probably hate trees and hate you and want you, personally, to suffer in a world without shade, you'll start getting different answers, like "please stop shouting" and "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."
Because you're demanding that they tell you how to use the wrong tool for the job. They can never give you the answer you want; the answer you want doesn't exist.
I can't tell you who to vote for to prevent the rise of fascism in the United States, both because you can't prevent something that's already happened, and because you can't vote your way out of fascism.
You need different tools; you need to ask different questions and be willing to sit with the answers, even if they aren't the answers you want.
Boycotts are a tool. Protests are a tool. Shutting down highways, physically blocking weapons shipments, picketing arms companies, those are tools. So is going to your library and checking out books about Palestine, and about decolonization generally.
Instead of asking which war criminal you should vote for, perhaps ask how you can organize members of your community to support and look after each other and keep each other safe. Perhaps ask how you can support Land Back and prison abolition. Ask how you can organize a union in your workplace.
The tool you're most comfortable using isn't going to work for this job. Learn how to use another.
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mionemymind · 3 days
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Don't Say Something Stupid
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Summary: Wanda is unable to commit yet unable to admit she's wrong. (Part Two of Don't Ask Stupid Questions)
Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Maybe Part Three?
A/n: Wanted to hurt y'all more, so here y'all go :) Gif credits go to @thedorkphoenix
Word Count: 662
Masterlist
Part One | Part Two
“Y/n, your new partner is Emma.” Wanda turned her attention from Vision to Steve at the mention of Emma. Trying to hold back her offense, Wanda commented, “Y/n is my partner.”
Wanda looked back at Y/n, but their eyes hadn’t met as Y/n continued to stare at Emma’s file. “We believe their powers work better together, Wanda. Plus, your new assigned partner is Vision as your mind stones should help with increased efficiency and communication.”
Wanda held back the comment on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t appropriate to say stupid things like, “But she’s always been my partner.”
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“You dumped Vision?” Natasha asked surprisingly. Wanda looked away as she could tell Y/n had heard the comment with the way her shoulders tensed. 
“He kept wanting more and honeslty…” Wanda sighed, feeling more guilty of the additional person she led on, “…and I couldn’t give him that.”
Natasha nodded in understatement as she squeezed Wanda’s shoulder. “Was it because y’all didn’t have the connection?” Wanda shook her head, feeling lost as to why she even did it in the first place. 
“Honestly, I’m not too sure…I rather admit that before saying something stupid.” Wanda tried her best not to look at Y/n’s slumped shoulders as she proceeded to get up from the coach and walk to her room. 
And as Natasha continued to talk, Wanda didn’t dare to remember how much Y/n hated feeling stupid. 
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“Why did you get in my way?” Emma was held back by Y/n as she aggressively questioned Wanda. “You almost got Y/n and I hurt with that stunt you pulled.”
Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Had it not been for my quick thinking, Y/n would’ve got hurt and you would’ve been swarmed.” 
“We had it handled,” Emma bit back. And before Wanda could get another word, Y/n locked eyes with her, and silently pleaded to stop. Seeing Wanda’s stance falter, Y/n pulled Emma back and mumbled, “Let’s not fight anymore. We’ll figure it out a different day so come on.”
While Y/n tugged on Emma’s hand, Wanda mind couldn’t stop thinking of stupid things. The main one being, “Were you even on my side?” 
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“Are you ignoring me?” Wanda caught Y/n in the hallway, almost close to the spot where they used to secretly make out. The red head could tell that Y/n had wanted to be anywhere else but there with her. Although it stung, Wanda wanted answers.
“Wanda - I - let’s just be cordial.” Feeling even more confused, Wanda backed Y/n into the wall with her arms crossed. 
“Cordial? You don’t even speak to me anymore.” Y/n still didn’t look at Wanda’s eyes. The girl was absolutely frustrated at how dense Wanda could be as if she couldn’t read the room.
“Well…” Y/n swallowed her anxiety and pain and finally looked into Wanda’s eyes, “…rules are rules. I broke them so this is me moving on from it.”
Wanda stepped back, feeling slapped and shocked at the confession. “Moving on? Are you seriously unable to continue without having feelings involved?” The red head didn’t know where this fierceness came from. It certainly didn’t explain what she truly meant. But she was always too stubborn to think it through. 
Y/n scoffed, not surprised that Wanda could barely understand her place. “You ‘re right, I seriously don’t know why I ever fell for you.” The smug look on Wanda’s face fell. She’s had many people admit their feelings for her but none have ever admitted to regretting them.
Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda’s response and started to walk away but Wanda’s hand stopped her from going. Not wanting to hear anything more, Y/n blurted, “Don’t say anything stupid now, Wanda.”
Snatching her hand out of Wanda’s grip, Y/n declared, “You might get your heart broken if you do.”
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@msmothermaximoff @unicorniusfallapatorius @cakechan123 @anniedanvers @oh-thats-cute @ielliesitcheyereposts @how-to-disappearrr @justyourwritter69 @canvascoloredin (Wanted to tag y'all because I think y'all wanted a part two, but I won't add y'all to future taglists unless you want me to)
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heich0e · 2 days
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"i won't be able to see you for a while."
the tokyo streets slip past outside your window, but your eyes aren't quite following the scenery. you feel a little dizzy thanks to the wine satoru kept pouring over dinner—filling only your glass, as usual. it was a vintage you could never have dreamed you'd get the chance to taste only a few short months ago; a luxury so distant that you'd never once even thought about what it might be like to try. now it lingers on your tongue, stains your lips slightly, feels familiar in ways you still struggle to reckon with.
you tilt your face towards the man sitting beside you in the back of the car that's taking you home.
"a while?" you ask him curiously, though that's perhaps not the most important query.
satoru hums, smiling a little to himself as his fingers press against the pulse point on your wrist. he's been toying with your hand ever since you left the restaurant, but you've hardly paid it any notice.
satoru's touch used to be limited to the spectacle. his hands only reaching out for you when someone was there to witness it. at one time, satoru would have changed cars before his driver took you home. at one time, he would have dropped your hand the moment the door shut behind you. but he doesn't now.
you've grown strangely used to this, too.
"are you going away for work again?" you ask him when he offers no further elaboration. it's not that you're particularly concerned with where he's going, or why, or for how long. satoru's life always has been, and always will be, solely his own. you're no more his keeper than you are his true fiancée—and the funds that will be deposited into your bank account by the time you make it home this evening are testament to that truth.
but you ask because it feels like the natural thing to do.
though very little about anything you do with satoru ought to be considered natural.
"no," the blonde answers, with that troublesome lilt of mirth in his voice that always seems to precede something unpleasant. you don't ask any more questions in an attempt to ward it off.
soon you reach your destination, the rest of the car ride spent in silence after your brief but relatively benign exchange earlier in the drive. you glance out through the window towards your apartment—a building so utterly unremarkable that the sumptuous interior of the restaurant you visited that evening feels palatial by comparison.
satoru's not allowed to walk you to your door anymore. his harsh, obnoxiously unfiltered criticism of your building—of your home—each time he so much as caught a glimpse of the interior had grown so grating, you'd barred him from entering any further than the entrance to the lobby.
instead, his assistant nanami is the one who silently escorts you to your unit door each night, at satoru's unyielding insistence. he'd been surprisingly terse about it when you'd initially attempted to dissuade him, reminding him (more than once) that you make the walk to your own door every day alone and have thus far lived to tell the tale. but the options he firmly presented in reply—the only two you knew you had to choose from—were either to be escorted by nanami, or let him walk you there himself. you knew that there would be no reasoning with him otherwise, sensed it in the way he held you so fixedly in his stare that day, so you chose nanami.
now each night after satoru accompanies you on the ride home after your engagements, his stoic, well-mannered assistant dips in a polite bow at your door and wishes you goodnight before departing once he knows you've made it safely inside.
behind the wheel up front, nanami slips out from his seat, exiting the vehicle and coming around to your door to open it and let you out. the door cracks open as he pulls the handle, but all of the sudden it comes clacking closed again.
satoru is leaning over you—his weight, his warmth, the sheer breadth of him a little staggering from this close up, especially so unexpectedly—holding the door firmly shut by the handle. he stares at you down the bridge of his nose, unblinking.
"i'll see you... when i see you," you breathe out, surprisingly meek, as you sit frozen in your seat beneath him.
satoru says nothing, just watches you curiously. there's a glimmer of something that swims behind his eyes—that look he gets where you can't help but be reminded of a child playing with a new toy—that makes you shift nervously.
"you really don't want to know?" he asks you, and he's so close you can almost taste the words on his lips.
this is too near, even by his peculiar standards. satoru's hand is still wrapped tightly around the door handle to keep it closed. his body pinning you into the corner of the backseat.
you can't help but feel on edge when you're trapped like this with nowhere else to go.
"know what?" you ask him. your head is still spinning from the wine, but it's almost worse now. maybe it's only just really beginning to hit your bloodstream.
"where i'm going," satoru goads, "how long i'll be gone."
you swallow thickly. "that's none of my business."
"of course it is," satoru replies, feigning hurt. "we're engaged. it's a fiancés right to know where their partner is and what they're doing, any time they'd like."
your brow pinches in confusion. you have no interest in knowing those kinds of things, much less feel any right to know them, given the circumstances. your bewilderment leaves you at a loss for words.
"my rut's coming, you see," satoru explains, his lashes fluttering softly as he says it. it wouldn't feel so strange if his lip weren't curling up in a smirk all the while. "so for the next week or so i'll be... indisposed."
your mouth feels dry.
"oh," you manage to say, though it's not really anything at all.
one of satoru's brows quirks curiously at the sound.
"it wouldn't normally be an issue," he continues, though you didn't ask him to. "but this will be my first rut i've spent alone since i presented, so i'm not sure how long it will last."
your lips part in shock.
"alone?" you sound every bit as astonished—as scandalized—as you feel. an alpha of satoru's rank spending his rut alone is unheard of. "what about the omega servic—"
"i would never pay for those kinds of services."
satoru's tone is uncharacteristically cold as he dismisses the mere notion of it. even as a beta, you know that omega services are perfectly legal, and are strictly regulated nowadays—but upon further reflection, you're not all that surprised by his seeming revulsion towards the idea. a family as powerful as the gojo clan likely has their own reserve of omegas, each one of the highest pedigree, to attend to the needs of their unmated alphas. hell, the most eligible omegas in the country would willingly accompany him if he were to ask. you avert your gaze under his cold stare, you feel a bit silly for even suggesting—
"i have no interest bringing any omega into my bed."
your eyes snap up to meet his.
that little glimmer is still there, behind the impossibly clear blue of his eyes.
"will you take suppressants?" you find yourself asking next. still meek.
satoru's face screws up in disgust.
"that garbage is toxic," he sniffs indignantly. "snake oil like that wouldn't work on me anyway."
you remember learning about this in health class as a teen. remember how shocked you were to learn that the efficacy of suppressants decreases depending on how strongly someone's secondary gender characteristics present. it's always felt a bit backwards to you—shouldn't the strongest, least-controllable members of the population be the ones there's the most interest in subduing?
and an alpha as high ranking, as dominant, as satoru is every bit the example.
"no," he sighs, and suddenly any trace of irritation or sterness dissipates as though he's released it along with his breath. his weary tone is too thickly affected to be sincere. "i'll just have to suffer through it on my own."
from the corner of your eye, you can see nanami shift where he stands and waits outside the door, and all at once you remember where you are.
you turn your body away from satoru, angling yourself (as much as you're able) towards your exit.
"well, good luck," you attempt to sound encouraging, but the words still come out slightly ill-at-ease. you reach for the door handle, hoping satoru will get the message and release it so you can take your leave. "let me know if you need anything."
satoru's hand doesn't move.
"do you really mean that?"
you flinch a little as his lips brush the shell of your ear. he's pressed up against your back now—the planes of his chest firm against your shoulder blades as he drapes himself over you.
you're frozen again, your hand still outstretched towards his at the handle—poised in midair. the lights from outside the car glint tauntingly in the diamond on your ring finger.
his breath is hot as it breaks against your throat.
your chest feels uncomfortably tight.
"would you really help me if i were to ask?"
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Text
Mission Dad
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Character: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky is just your average dad in his daughter's eyes. But deep down, she yearns for a father with more influence and power, like her friend's dad. Little does she know, Bucky is anything but ordinary.
Words Count: 3,712
Warning: Slightly bullying scene.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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The midday sun streamed into the principal's office through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Despite the abundance of light, the atmosphere inside remained heavy and gloomy.
"I’m sorry; it’s my mistake as a parent." You bowed your head to the people in front of you: two couples who wore formal suits, along with their teenage daughter, and the principal, who kept wiping the sweat from his head.
Your daughter, Faith, who stood beside you, clenched her fist. Her expression was ugly as she looked at her mother, apologizing and bowing to someone who didn’t deserve it. “Mom, don't apologize. it’s not even my fault.”
You glanced at her and nodded, assuring her that you didn’t feel hurt or offended.
Sabrina, your daughter's classmate, smirked at you and Faith. With her mouth silent, she told Faith, “You can’t win.”
“Yes. It’s just a small matter.” Roy, Sabrina's father and also a senator, patted his daughter's head. “I think this matter doesn’t have to go public, right?” He turned to the principal.
“That’s right.”
With that, the problem was solved. But the scar still felt fresh on Faith’s heart.
As you drove the car back home, the silence hung heavy between you and Faith. Then, unexpectedly, her voice broke the quiet. “Why did you marry dad?” Faith crossed her arms beside you, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and frustration.
Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by her question. You hadn't anticipated such a query from your daughter.
“Why did dad let you go alone and allow you to be humiliated?” Faith wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice trembling with emotion. The memory of you apologizing on her behalf still fresh in her mind.
You felt a pang of heartache seeing your daughter in distress. Today's events had revealed a truth you hadn't known before. The reason for your confrontation with Sabrina's parents was rooted in the bullying Faith had endured.
Faith had gathered evidence – recordings and screenshots of text messages – hoping it would be enough to put an end to the torment. But the power and influence wielded by Sabrina's family proved formidable.
With the evidence at hand, Faith had the potential to tarnish Sabrina's family name and derail her father's career as a senator.
Your fists clenched at the thought of Sabrina's cruelty towards your daughter. You wanted to scream, to exact some form of justice for Faith's pain. The urge to confront Sabrina and her allies gnawed at you, a primal instinct to protect your child at any cost.
But you held it in, knowing that today you didn't have the power to fight back. Another reason was because your husband wasn't here. Bucky Barnes had been gone for months for his job, a job so complicated that contacting him was nearly impossible.
You caressed Faith’s hair gently. “I'll try calling your father again.”
Faith sighed, her frustration evident. “He better answer, or else I'll find a better dad.”
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite the circumstances. “Honey, don’t joke like that. Your father is the only one in my heart.”
She pretended to gag, a playful gesture that reminded you of the teasing banter you shared as a family. Whenever Bucky returned home from his job, you would become lovesick teenagers, unable to keep your hands off each other.
******
Back at home, you glanced around to ensure no one was near before your hand slid open a secret shelf, revealing an old flip phone hidden within.
You dialed a number and waited anxiously until a voice finally answered, "Hello?"
You breathed a sigh of relief. "Steve, can you find him?"
“Not yet,” came the disappointing reply.
You sighed again, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "Alright, I’ll call you later."
Closing the phone, you rubbed your temples, the stress of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. Your daughter was right – you needed Bucky.
Just then, you heard heavy footsteps descending from the second floor. "Mom, I’m going out for a sec."
You glanced up in surprise, realizing Faith was already on the move. "Faith, we just arrived!" But it was too late – she had already slipped out the door.
******
Faith heard your voice, but she sprinted faster. She had caught the name "Uncle Steve" in your conversation, indicating that he might know where her dad was. They had been friends since childhood, and she trusted him.
Upon arriving at the coffee shop owned by Uncle Steve, she pushed open the glass door and was greeted with a warm "Welcome."
Steve was taken aback. "Faith?"
Approaching him, Faith cut to the chase. "Uncle, do you know where my dad is?"
Steve hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Eventually, he shook his head. "You know he has to travel all the time."
Faith rolled her eyes in frustration. "Yeah, cleaning up someone else's mess. He keeps saying that, but when there’s trouble at his own home, he's never there."
Sensing the tension, Steve tried to diffuse the situation. "Hold up, the topic is getting heavy. Let’s sit down." He gestured towards a nearby table, inviting Faith to sit and talk more calmly.
Steve offered Faith her favorite chocolate mint drink to cheer her up. Taking a sip, Faith felt a sense of calm wash over her. She grumbled and sighed, “I don’t understand why mother married my dad when she can’t depend on him.”
Steve widened his eyes in surprise. “Your dad would be heartbroken to hear that,” he said softly. Having a daughter could be both sweet and scary, he thought, realizing the impact of her words.
“But it’s true. I also found out that mother came from a well-known family. But she cut ties with them because she married dad,” Faith sighed, her gaze drifting to the café window. “I wish I had a powerful dad.”
Steve sighed sympathetically, picking up on Faith’s frustration, as well as your own from the last phone call. “What happened, Faith?”
As Faith recounted the events of the day, Steve listened intently, his expression growing increasingly enraged. “How dare they do that!” he exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table, causing the café patrons to jump.
“There’s nothing I can do since her father is a senator,” Faith lamented.
After a moment of silence, Steve spoke firmly. “Faith, don’t worry. Your father will handle this.”
“But—” Faith began.
“It’s not my place to tell you. Believe in your father. He’s stronger and more powerful than you think.”
Faith couldn’t argue with her uncle’s words. “Fine,” she relented, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll go back.”
Steve wanted to offer her a ride home. “Let me drive you,” he suggested.
“No, it’s alright. I need some alone time. And it’s not far,” Faith declined.
Steve nodded understandingly. “Text me when you get home,” he urged.
“Okey dokey,” Faith replied before heading out of the café.
Back at home, you continued to wait anxiously for your daughter to return. Dinner time had long passed, and worry gnawed at your insides. You picked up the phone and dialed Steve. "Is Faith with you?" you asked urgently.
Steve's voice sounded grave on the other end. "She was, but she left around 4:50 p.m.," he replied.
Your heart sank. "Steve, she still hasn't come home," you exclaimed, panic rising in your chest.
Without hesitation, you jumped into your car and raced to Steve's café. He was waiting for you at the park nearby, his expression as pale as yours. You could see the worry etched on his face as you approached him, your breath coming in heavy gasps.
Coming closer, you noticed that Steve was holding Faith's smartwatch in his hand. The gravity of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.
Faith had been kidnapped.
You panicked, struggling to catch your breath, and Steve steadied you with a reassuring hand on your back.
"I'll call for backup," Steve declared, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.
"I—" you began, but the sudden phone ring interrupted you both.
The familiar ringtone brought a wave of relief flooding over you. With trembling hands, you quickly accepted the call. "Bucky!"
"Honey, I'm sorry, I just got the chance to call you. I—" Bucky's voice sounded cheerful, relieved to hear his wife's voice again.
"Our daughter has been kidnapped!!!" you blurted out, the urgency in your tone cutting through the cheerful facade.
"Who dares lay a hand on our daughter?" Bucky's voice dripped with icy resolve, his tone sending shivers down your spine.
********
As Faith struggled to focus through her pounding headache, Sabrina's taunting voice cut through the dimly lit room.
"Look who finally decided to join us," Sabrina sneered, her eyes glinting with malice as she leaned in closer to Faith. "Did you have a nice nap, princess?"
Faith clenched her fists, her jaw set with determination despite her fear. "What do you want, Sabrina?" she managed to grit out, her voice trembling slightly.
Sabrina's laughter echoed off the grimy walls, sending shivers down Faith's spine. "Oh, just a little payback for ruining my life," she replied, her tone dripping with venom. "Thanks to you, my parents are furious with me. I'm grounded, all because of your little stunt."
Faith's heart sank as she realized the extent of Sabrina's anger. She knew she had caused trouble for Sabrina, but she never imagined it would lead to something like this.
Sabrina, sensing Faith's vulnerability, circled her like a predator closing in on its prey. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" she taunted, her voice laced with contempt. "Well, let's see how smart you really are when you're at my mercy."
Fear gnawed at Faith's insides as Sabrina's words sank in. She knew she was entirely at Sabrina's mercy, with no one to help her in this dark, desolate place. She braced herself for whatever torment Sabrina had in store, steeling herself for the trials ahead.
As Faith scanned the dimly lit room, her heart sank as she noticed an array of menacing tools laid out on the table. Were they planning to kill her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
Sabrina's malicious grin widened as she picked up a baseball bat, swinging it menacingly a few times. The sound of the bat cutting through the air sent a chill down Faith's spine, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
Closing her eyes tightly, Faith began to pray silently, her mind racing with desperate pleas for someone to come to her rescue.
With an evil smile stretching across her face, Sabrina walked menacingly closer to Faith, raising the baseball bat higher with each step. Faith could feel the weight of impending doom settling over her like a heavy blanket. She wished she had stayed home with you, safe and sound. She longed to see her father, to feel his reassuring presence beside her.
"Dad, help me," she whispered desperately, her voice barely audible amidst the tension of the moment.
"I'm here," a deep voice rumbled through the darkness, sending a surge of hope coursing through Faith's veins. Could it be? Was it truly her father?
"I'm sorry I'm late," the voice continued, each word like a beacon of light cutting through the darkness.
For a moment, Faith couldn't believe her ears. Was she in heaven? But then, a second time, the voice pierced through the silence, more tangible than ever. "Dad!!!" she exclaimed, her eyes snapping open.
Standing tall and imposing in front of her was Bucky, her father. He stood alone but radiated a sense of power and strength that dwarfed everyone else in the room. With a swift motion, he halted Sabrina's advancing bat, leaving her stunned and speechless.
Sabrina had always thought her father, Roy, was intimidating, but the aura of power emanating from Bucky now was on a whole other level. She could sense a palpable bloodlust emanating from him, a primal energy that seemed to course through his veins.
With a voice that trembled with fear, Sabrina managed to stammer out, "Who... who are you?"
Bucky's gaze bore into Sabrina with an intensity that made her shrink back instinctively. "I'm Faith's father," he declared, his voice low and commanding. "And now, I'm going to teach all of you a lesson."
*******
At the grand mansion, Roy lounged in his armchair, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully as he gazed into the crackling fireplace.
The sudden ringing of his phone shattered the tranquility of the moment. "Hello?" he answered, his voice laced with annoyance at the interruption.
"Dad!!!" Sabrina's panicked voice came through the line, causing Roy to furrow his brow in confusion.
"Why are you screaming like a crazy person?" he retorted, holding the phone slightly away from his ear.
"Someone tried to kill me!!!" Sabrina's voice trembled with fear, sending a chill down Roy's spine.
"Stop being dramatic," he scoffed dismissively, though a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes.
"She's right," a new voice interrupted, sending a shiver down Roy's spine.
"And who is this?" Roy demanded, his grip on the phone tightening.
"Your nightmare. And you're next," came the chilling response, causing Roy's blood to run cold.
"Tsk. Empty threat," Roy scoffed, though his voice wavered slightly with uncertainty.
"No, Dad. He's serious. Call all the bodyguards!!!" Sabrina's urgency cut through the air, leaving Roy no choice but to take her warning seriously.
Roy wasted no time in taking action. He swiftly dialed his secretary's number, his expression tense with determination as he issued his orders.
"Get ready for an intruder," he commanded tersely, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Call in all the bodyguards. I want the mansion secured from every angle. Do whatever it takes to protect us."
As he spoke, Roy's gaze remained fixed on the flickering flames of the fireplace, his mind racing with thoughts of the potential threat looming outside.
*******
As the night wore on, tension hung thick in the air of Roy's mansion. The threat from the mysterious voice had put everyone on edge, and they remained vigilant, acutely aware of any unusual sounds or movements.
"Good. Let that kid stay there for a while. She only brings trouble," Roy remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness as he spoke of Sabrina's misfortune.
"Who tried to hurt us?" Roy's question hung heavy in the room, unanswered and unsettling.
His wife, equally on edge, offered her own speculation. "Do you think it's the Barnes?"
Roy pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing with concern. "Impossible. I looked it up. Barnes is just a nobody."
But even as he spoke the words, doubt gnawed at him. Could he be wrong? Was there more to the Barnes family than he had initially assumed?
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the house turned eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Then, piercing through the silence, came the sound of screams echoing through the halls. "AARGH!"
"BANG! BANG! BANG!" The sharp cracks of gunfire reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of fear through the inhabitants of the mansion.
"What the fuck is going on?" Roy demanded, his voice rising with a mixture of confusion and alarm.
"Are we going to be safe?" His wife's voice trembled with uncertainty, her eyes wide with fear.
"Don't worry, the bodyguards in this room with us are former special ops," Roy reassured, though the tension in his voice betrayed his own anxiety.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward, his posture firm and resolute. "It's alright, ma'am. We can handle this," he assured, his words instilling a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
The door swung open, revealing just one figure standing in the doorway.
As the bodyguard moved to intercept him, Bucky strode forward confidently, his eyes fixed on Roy. "You have to stop before you get hurt," the bodyguard warned, his voice tinged with concern.
But Bucky paid no heed to the warning. With a swift motion, he grabbed the bodyguard's hand and effortlessly snapped it, causing him to curse in pain.
"Shit!" the bodyguard exclaimed, clutching his injured hand as Bucky swiftly took down the rest of the security detail with brutal efficiency.
The bodyguard, his eyes wide with shock, leaned in to whisper to his friend. "Do you think it's him? The lunatic?"
His friend's expression mirrored his own disbelief as he muttered back, "Shit. You're right."
Their hushed conversation carried a sense of unease as they watched Bucky's brutal efficiency in dispatching their colleagues, leaving them wondering if they were genuinely facing the infamous lunatic they had heard whispers about.
With blood streaked across his face, Bucky closed in on Roy, who tensed, assuming a defensive stance. "So you're strong, huh?" Roy challenged, his fists clenched as he prepared for a fight. "I was in the military too. Which special force are you from?"
"Black ops," Bucky replied curtly, his words sending a chill down Roy's spine.
Before Roy could react, Bucky unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, each blow landing with deadly accuracy. Roy staggered backward under the onslaught, his face contorted with pain as he struggled to defend himself against Bucky's relentless assault.
Roy, already on the floor, bloodied and battered, pleaded desperately, "Wait. Wait!!! Are you Faith's father? The problem between our daughters is done. And this morning your wife also agreed to it. They're just kids."
Bucky laughed darkly, the sound chilling to the bone. "My wife gave you a last chance. But your daughter blew it," he spat out, his voice dripping with disdain.
The words "just kids" rang hollow in Bucky's ears as he thought of Faith, bruised and battered, her innocence shattered by the cruelty of others.
His heart ached at the memory, and he felt a surge of anger and helplessness wash over him.
Roy's eyes blazed with fury as he struggled to rise. "Who do you think you are? You're just a fucking nobody. I'm a senator. Even if you raze my house to the ground, tomorrow you'll be sleeping in jail. Along with your wife and kid," he declared, his voice trembling with rage and defiance.
"Oh, so you're that powerful, huh?" Bucky sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked down at Roy.
"I'm that powerful, you son of a bitch," Roy shot back defiantly, his voice strained with anger and frustration.
With a cold smirk, Bucky reached for his old flip phone, his fingers moving with calculated precision as he dialed a number. "Senator Roy? You know him? Yeah, that one. Could you erase him? Thanks," he said casually into the phone before ending the call.
Roy's eyes widened in horror as he realized the gravity of the situation. "You..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to convey his disbelief and fear.
But Bucky wasn't finished yet. With a swift motion, he snatched Roy's phone from his trembling hands and quickly scrolled through the contacts. Finding the name he was looking for, he dialed the number without hesitation.
"Call him. Tell him there's a lunatic who wants to kill you," Bucky commanded, his voice cold and unyielding as he handed the phone back to Roy.
Roy's hands shook as he brought the phone to his ear, his heart pounding with dread. "Hello?"
"Commissioner!! There's a lunatic trying to kill me, he's hurt my daughter," Roy screamed into the phone, desperation and fear lacing his words.
But to his horror, all he heard in response was a calm voice saying, "I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number."
"What?" Roy's voice cracked with disbelief, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the phone in trembling hands.
"Who are you? You're just a guy from a cleaning company." Roy looked up at Bucky, dis, belief etched across his bloodied face.
"You messed with the wrong daughter," Bucky replied coolly, his voice dripping with a quiet menace.
Bucky Barnes, known by the nickname "Cleaning Service," earned his moniker through his unparalleled expertise in handling the toughest missions in black ops. With hundreds of missions under his belt, not a single one had ever failed. His reputation as a lunatic preceded him, but he wore the label with indifference on the field.
However, when it came to his family, especially his daughter Faith, Bucky preferred to shed his tough exterior and play the role of a regular dad. He didn't want to frighten her with tales of his dangerous exploits; instead, he chose to shield her from the harsh realities of his profession.
But now, as danger loomed closer to home, Bucky realized that pretending to be someone he wasn't no longer served him or his family. It was time to embrace his true self and unleash the full extent of his capabilities to protect those he loved.
Before Roy could react, Bucky delivered a devastating punch that sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious.
*******
As Bucky stepped out of the mansion, a cry of relief and joy erupted from both you and Faith.
"Bucky!" you exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him.
"Dad!" Faith called out, her voice choked with emotion as she joined in the hug.
Steve watched the heartwarming family reunion scene unfold before him, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, especially with the backdrop of the burning house behind them.
Bucky held his daughter close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. "I'm sorry. I let you and your mother get hurt," he murmured softly, his voice filled with remorse.
Faith shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "No, Dad. You're not late. You're so cool," she reassured him, her words filled with love and admiration.
Bucky smiled, a rare warmth spreading across his features as he looked down at his daughter. "Thank you," he said softly before gazing at you. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm back.I will never let anyone else underestimate us ever again," he whispered, his voice filled with determination and love.
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erwinsvow · 3 days
Note
had the worst day ever😭 i need some shy!reader and rafe
im so sorry baby hope this makes you feel better ♡
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bad days always felt the same—never ending, dragging on and on while you're too tired, bones exhausted and muscles weeping. your head hurts from the overthinking, and though you're hardly one to get mad about silly things, today you are—mad. it must be something you've picked up from your boyfriend.
everything feels unfair, feels wrong or like it's about to go wrong. you can't even describe it if someone were to ask, but you know your boyfriend will ask, and that you need to get an answer ready since he doesn't settle for your silence, even though today you'd really wish he would.
from the morning that started off late to the afternoon that dragged on, the barista that messed up your order and then was rude to you about it, nothing was going your way. the coffee had just been the tipping point—that was the one thing meant to cheer you up.
when you drag your tired body and achy head to tannyhill, you stop to glance in the mirror in the hallway.
this was your tipping point, how messy your hair was, smudged mascara from when you cried in your car outside the coffee shop and the nail you chipped slamming the door. everything sucked, and though rafe always made it better, you didn't even want to see him when you looked like this.
you want to turn around and go home, but your feet still drag you to rafe's bedroom. your brain knows he'll make you feel better, though it takes everything in your willpower to open the door.
"hey, kid. how was your day?" the second he asks, glancing up from his laptop to look up at you, you burst into tears. he rushes over, putting his hands on your shoulders to keep you upright, to calm you down. "woah, what the hell. what's wrong?"
words don't come out, just sobs. you don't think rafe's ever seen you like this before, but it doesn't take him long to bring you into a hug, and you cry against his chest until his shirt is all wet.
"what's goin' on, baby? someone do somethin'? huh?" rafe is a problem solver at his core—but you know there's no one person to blame for today, except maybe yourself. though you wouldn't mind a little roughhousing, you don't think rafe's gonna be open to beating you up. your words come out slurred in a mumble of tears.
you rattle off your day in between sobs, and when he sits you down on his bed, he's a little less concerned because at least you're okay.
"c'mon," he says, and you lean against his shoulder. "get it all out and then y'can take a hot shower. i'll get dinner. s'gonna be fine."
though you're not saying many words, and a part of you had thought he'd be upset that you cry over every little thing, everything rafe says and does makes you feel better. when you sniffle, moving to wipe your tears, he holds your face in his hands, running a thumb across your cheek to wipe them away. you lean into his hand.
"s-sorry about your shirt."
"don't worry 'bout that, kid. you feelin' better?"
"a little."
"c'mon, clothes off. let's go shower. water as hot as you want it." you perk up, even laughing a little—rafe thinks the water you use will scald your skin.
"really?" you question, smiling up at him.
"really."
"thanks, rafe."
"yeah." he follows you to the shower, and though it didn't take many words or much time, you feel better already.
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wasteddmoondust · 3 days
Text
pineapple || james potter
pairing: james potter x reader 1,219 words, teacher and james go on their first date! what could go wrong? a/n: can you tell i am horrible at titling my fics... somehow i just need it to relate to what happens. so uh. enjoy!
prev. chapter
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You feel your heart going absolutely crazy. You know it's first-date jitters, but somehow it feels worse this time. It's nothing special, really. You try to tell yourself. Just another first date. Just like other first dates (that has turned to nothing...) And now this first date is the father of one of the children you teach. Yeah, nothing special.
After several attempts to make yourself busy by looking at your phone, you hear your name. It's James and he's walking up to you.
"First name basis already?" you ask smugly.
He chuckles, "What? Sorry, I guess I'll just call you-"
"Please don't, I hate being called that outside of work."
"Got it."
The two of you walk together and he leads you to a quaint coffee shop, James swears by the coffee made here. When the orders are made you find a seat and sit down.
"It's been a while since I've been on a date," he says, hands fidgeting with the receipt.
"Same here," you admit.
He stops playing with the receipt and furrows his brows. "Really? But I'm the parent."
"And I'm the one taking care of your kid for a whole day, 20 kids, actually."
"Huh... and you don't even meet people in the industry?"
You snort. "Unfortunately no, a lot of them are older and married with kids. There's no one to date there. Trust me, even the older teachers try to make me get on dating apps. If anything, you're doing them a favour."
He grins that grin that makes your heart do a little flip. Oh god, it's happening, huh?
"I'm happy to do that."
You continue your conversation, keeping it light with small talk. Then, a waiter comes by to give you your meal and you both thank him. James' phone dings, he checks the message and he replies to it while you patiently wait for him.
He looks back up at you and keeps his phone. "Sorry, my best friend is taking care of Harry today, he was just sending an update."
"That's alright. Is he doing okay?"
"Harry?" he asks, looking a little nervous. His arms are resting crossed on the table. "Uh- yeah. He's fine. Not so sure about Sirius. He just said he's letting Harry use his tattoos as a colouring book."
You laugh. "Yeah, I can see that. He does love to colour. Have you always wanted to be a father?"
James looks stunned, but laughs it off. "Not a normal question for the first date, is it?"
"Well since you already are one," you shrug.
James thinks for a while before answering. "Yeah... I've always wanted kids... Well I'm sure you've seen from the documents I sent to the school when Harry enrolled. I'm widowed..."
You nod, you do in fact know this, you had read through those documents for every child. Understanding their family structure and dynamics can be a big help in understanding the child and improving their development in school and at home.
"She uh- had complications at birth and didn't make it." He let out a sigh and shrugged. "So now it's just me and Harry. And I wouldn't trade him for the world.
"You really love him, don't you?"
"I do."
"You know you can talk about him, right?"
James looks down and purses his lips. "It's just that... other people I've dated weren't really... keen on the fact that I have a kid. You know, another person's child and all."
You tilt your head down to try and make eye contact with him. Somehow, your hand reaches out to his. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right? I already knew you had a son, hell, I even taught him for a whole year, and I still accepted your date."
His mouth forms a small frown, but his hand grabs yours anyway. "I just didn't want to seem weird."
"You're not. Promise," you give his hand a squeeze.
"Is it too early to want to kiss you?"
You both stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing, making him laugh too.
James starts to tell you about Harry, and visibly gets more comfortable the more he does it. He tells stories from his first words to potty fails. He shows videos and pictures. From there, the both of you fall into an easy rhythm of branching from topic to topic in your conversation. You exchange bites of your food. Before you know it, you're laughing while your meal is long done and you're both on your second cup of coffee.
For some reason, you feel an itch in your throat.
Nonchalantly, you ask, "Did your pasta have pineapple?"
"Yes, why?"
"Firstly, who the hell puts pineapple in pasta? Secondly, I think I'm having an allergic reaction."
James sits up in a panic. "Oh god- I'm so sorry-"
You cough into your first. "It's fine, it usually doesn't react as bad as it used to but I like to stay away from pineapples anyway. I'm not gonna die. Can you get me some cold water, please?"
He immediately stands up and gets you a glass from the counter. You down the glass in seconds and you feel better.
"I'm so sorry that was embarrassing-"
"You're sorry? I gave you a bite!"
"I forgot to ask, it's my fault."
He gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you"
"James, trust me, it's fine-"
"I'll bring you on a second date."
You furrow your brows. "You just saw me cough my lungs out from an allergic reaction and you still want to bring me out?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.
"I mean... I still find you attractive after all that so if you find me attractive after I rambled about my own child to you though you have taught him for this past year I don't see why not."
At this point, you're pretty sure your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you've been doing the entire time.
Despite your protests, James insists on driving you home. When you reach the entrance to your apartment building, he tells you to wait before rushing out of the car to open the door to the passenger's side. You giggle and take the hand he holds out to you as you step out of his car.
He tugs the hand that is holding yours to make you face him. He's so close, you're desperately hoping your cheeks don't show how flushed you are.
"So... same time next week?" you suggest.
He nods. "No pineapples this time, guaranteed."
"And you're allowed to talk about Harry."
He beams at that, looking down and letting out a sigh before looking back at you. "Is it still too early to kiss you?"
"Yes, but for now I'll give you this," you press a kiss to his cheek. You slowly walk towards your building, your arms stretching until you gently let go when you're too far away. "I'll see you next week!"
And like that, you disappear into the building. James is left standing there, still in disbelief of the entire day.
He lets out a sigh, smiling, and gets into his car. He 's so excited to tell Sirius when he gets home.
a/n: if i'm being so honest i have zero idea how most allergies work so please don't get technical with me... also!!!! thank you so much for the love on part one eek i am on a roll i'm so happy to be writing this series.
taglist: @willows-lane @celosiastarr @nsr-15
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Text
my heart over yours; part two | j.fleming x reader
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prompt: your attention is suddenly not fully on jessie and she's not taking it well.
author notes: here's the part two y'all wanted 🥳 thanks for all the love on the first part like i swear i seen everything, just too nervous to say anything back lmaoo. regardless i hope this meets expectations 💗 enjoy! p.s. i swear the fic reads better while listening to the song...
contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie, jeffery is trying to not tweak out 💔 #failed, reader is sorta of a bad gf/about to be gf to blondie, slight guilt tripping (?) not on purpose, spelling / grammatical issues maybe ignore them, jessie is sorta mean in this..
part one
playing been away by brent faiyaz 🎵
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you don't answer jessie's question right away. easily being able to spot the badly hidden irritation in her voice, she could never hide her emotions from you. your heartbeat picks up as you look away from your screen. your eyes landing on your wall before you say anything. jessie asks something else before you can even answer her first question; "what did you say?"
"jess, what do you mean what did i say? if i said i forgot.. and.." you try to figure out what to say but can't find the words to tell your bestfriend that you forgot her game and technically can't make it because of a date with some girl you hardly know from class. jessie stays silent as she gets up out of the hotel bed. leaving her phone on the bed, her camera just facing the ceiling. you narrow your eyes in confusion, but before you could even say anything jessie comes back into the frame.
she grabs her phone then sets it up against something on the nightstand next to the bed. your confusion worsens as you notice some type of shirt in her hands as she walks back a little so that most of her is in the frame; now that you can fully see her you notice that she's wearing your plaid pajama shorts and your hoodie.
"so that's where my clothes went?" you say in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. you smile once you see jessie let out a soft giggle. she shakes her head before holding up the shirt; showing off the backside that has your last name on it. now that you can see what the shirt actually is you can see it's a national canadian team jersey. you let out a loud laugh of disbelief, not expecting to see your name on the back in of a national team jersey ever. "jessie..what..?" you say, a smile on your lips.
jessie holds up the jersey for a few minutes before moving out of frame to go put it back near her bag on the other side of the room. she comes back to the phone, picks it up, and lays down on her bed.
"all of the team said we should get you this since you're always at every game.. sometimes.." you giggle hearing jessie say sometimes, she gives you a little eye roll before continuing, "and we were going to surprise you with it this weekend but.."
her trailing off makes you frown. guilt rushes into your mind. you have been to a majority of the canadian national team's games especially if they happened in canada; it just felt natural to support jessie and pretty soon after attending your fifth game, you weren't just attending for jessie. you went to the games to see the other national team players as well. with the whole team becoming close to you just as they are close to jessie. you're basically a honorary player.
"god, jessie-" again you try to explain yourself more, but she cuts you off again. "sorry i just keep not letting you talk, but, god.. you don't have to come if you don't want to. it's not like i want to guilt you into doing something. never that," jessie says softly. you let out a sigh at how kind-hearted jessie can really be. she was a true sweetheart.
you go silent for a few moments. thinking about the current situation and how you could possibly not hurt anyone's feelings in the process. jessie was your top priority, but sasha didn't deserve to just be blown off. she wasn't too bad; she was really a good person too. it didn't feel fair to just drop her. you let out a soft gasp when an idea comes to your mind. jessie furrows her brows as you say, "i'll come but i have to talk to sasha first. you know about the date. don't wanna just blow her off."
"oh, okay. yeah that's.. whatever," the freckled woman tries to hide the irritation that's back in her tone. why did you have to talk to sasha about anything? especially something pertaining to you and jessie, not sasha. you hardly knew the girl and now you needed her opinion on decisions that frankly don't have nothing to do with her? it was slowly pissing jessie off. she fights off to urge to say that you actually don't have to talk to sasha first and you could just get on the first flight to san diego instead of wasting your time on some blonde chick who doesn't even know you; well, doesn't know you like how jessie knows you.
she wasn't even your girlfriend, just some date. hardly that, more like a project partner.
you can hear the irritation in her voice easily, again, jessie couldn't hide her emotions around you to save her life but you don't address it. reminding yourself to talk to her about it when you come down to san diego for the game.
soon enough the conversation moves away from anything sasha related with you not wanting to annoy jessie any further. she rambles to you about this show she's been watching throughout camp and how when she went to the beach she got thrown in the water and also how she saw this shop that she thinks you would like and so much more. that short time period where it felt like you two hardly talked really took it's toll on her, who else could she talk to about anything and everything? no one else. that period of time took it's toll on you too. you didn't realize how much you missed jessie until you talked to her for hours.
that night she refused to let you hang up, not that you were going to. asking (pouting at you) for you to fall asleep on facetime with her. you obviously agreed; falling asleep first. once you fully fell asleep, jessie took a few facetime photos. putting them in her folder in her gallery that she has for you. eventually she drifts off to sleep too. sasha long forgotten.
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in the morning you're the one who hangs up first at the dismay of jessie. the canadian player tried her hardest to get you to stay on the phone until she had to go training which was in two hours. unfortunately, you had a morning class and felt weird about staying on the phone while in a classroom of nearly hundred people.
"i'll be silent, c'mon," jessie pouts. her hair is an absolute mess, stray hairs flying everywhere out of her loosely tied ponytail. she's still so tired. you can tell by how she's trying to keep her eyes open; her tired voice makes you smile.
"no, jess, you c'mon. you are so noisy when you're getting ready," you say. jessie lets out a groan before shaking her head, "no i'm not. i think you confused yourself with me because that's all you."
"stop lying to yourself, freckles."
"whatever, whatever. go ahead and leave me here.. all alone.." you roll your eyes at jessie's dramatics. she groans again when even her dramatics don't work. you finally hang up after promising her that you would call her tonight. she texts you hardly a minute after you hanged up,
freckles 💗
you woke me up, left, and now i can't sleep 😐
you
that's not even my fault
blame ucla
freckles 💗
im not saying you should have skipped class for your long term bestfriend..
but im not saying you shouldn't have
you
did someone replace my bestfriend?
my jess always forced me to go to class so..
freckles 💗
👎👎👎
not replaced it's called upgraded
you send a few texts back before slipping your phone into your bag. it seems that jessie falls back to sleep as you don't feel no vibrations from your phone as you walk to your first class.
the day passes by slowly as you bounce from class to class. why did you pick this major again? you can't even remember at this point. jessie sent you a few photos of her eating breakfast earlier. those made you smile and feel a little less exhausted. if only she was here. the day continues on and eventually you reach the class where sasha is in.
you two haven't talked since she asked you out yesterday. you were busy talking to jessie and you guess sasha had other things to do as well. now she's sitting next to you in class. sasha's playing with your fingers while telling you about how she struggled to cook dinner last night. you make a few jokes about how she could probably burn water if she had the chance which makes her give you a playful push to the shoulder.
"uh, sash. can i call you that?" you ask softly, unsure about giving her a nickname. sasha smiles, "of course you can. it's better than blondie, you know."
"who calls you that?"
"idiots who don't know me," she gives you a cheeky smile before shrugging, "but you do know me so don't call me blondie. alright?"
you give her a nod while smiling. the woman has a good sense of humor, you won't deny it. not like jessie's but funny. you mentally scold yourself for comparing the two; they are two different people, obviously they won't act the same.
"alright. anyways, i have something to ask you," your eyes glance over to the door of the classroom where your professor now comes though, "after though. our professor finally decided to show up." sasha giggles at your jab before nodding, pulling away from touching your hand.
the lecture lasts for nearly three hours. with the professor at the end reminding everyone to turn in their projects next week. good thing you and sasha finished that huge hunk of work earlier in the week; you didn't feel like stressing about that while down in san diego. sasha holds onto your arm as you two walk out of class then towards her dorm. "i didn't know rather your question was something important, so i wanted to give us some privacy. you know," sasha smiles as she lets your arm go.
"yeah, i get it," you walk into the vaguely familiar space after she unlocks the door. dropping your bag onto the floor next to her bed before sitting on it. you watch sasha slip her shoes off before joining you on the bed; shoulder to shoulder. for some reason you shift away, not out of rudeness. you just didn't want to be that close right now. if sasha cared she didn't say anything.
"okay, so, do you know about the usa vs canada friendly that's happening in san diego over the weekend, right?" you say, remembering how sasha and you talked about soccer sometime ago.
"yeah. what about it?"
"you know my bestfriend, jessie?" you don't notice how sasha purses her lips hearing you say jessie's name, you continue, "she plays for canada and i always go to her games. i been missing her and her entire team, so i planned to go to the game this weekend and forgot to tell you. i don't regret saying yes to the date, but i was thinking.. instead of going on the date you could come with me to the game? it would be so fun, i swear!"
sasha was feeling conflicted at first. she wanted to spend time one on one with you, so you two could possibly further this relationship between you but having the opportunity to go to an international friendly wasn't usually given to her. "yeah! okay, let's go. i been wanting to see the usa play for so long anyways," she gives you one of her usual bright smiles. seeing that smile calms your nerves. now you just had to tell jessie.
you spend almost ten minutes in sasha's dorm. just playing around and talking before you notice how it's starting to get late. sasha walks you all the way out of her dorm building, telling you to sleep well as you leave. you give her a smile before continuing to walk away.
the moment you get into jessie and yours dorm, you text her.
you
i asked sash if she wanted to come to the game
she said yes
can you get her a ticket pleasee. all the good ones sold out
freckles 💗
who is sash??
you
sasha..??
jessie just came back from training, already having taken her after practice shower and changed into some sweatpants and a hoodie. she wanted to be ready to facetime all night, no interruptions. she wasn't expecting you to text her about sasha; at least not like that. after last night, jessie almost prayed for you to text her the next day that you were coming alone. she didn't expect you to text that you invited sasha to her game. and now you're giving this blonde chick nicknames? all jessie can do is roll her eyes. she fights the urge to lie and say that she couldn't get any tickets; that the game is fully sold out, but she knows you would catch that lie easily. while jessie's thinking about it, her phone vibrates with another text from you.
you
im going to get in the shower
text me yes or no
if yes send the ticket 🙏 ur a lifesaver if yes
your text makes jessie sigh. she doesn't want to disappoint you even if it kills her. around ten minutes after you sent that text, she starts to ask around if she could get a ticket for the game. claiming it was for "a friend" she cringed saying that, but regardless. it wasn't hard to get a ticket, she is a player after all.
you get out of the shower an hour later. you're drying your hair as you move over to your bed to grab your phone; noticing a text from jessie. you smile as you read,
freckles 💗
i got one
*photo attachment sent*
you can give it to her when she comes down with you i guess
i'll just give it to you
you click on the photo, zooming in to see what seat sasha will be sitting at. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you realize the seat on her ticket is on the other side of the stadium, away from you.
you
bro jess
that ticket isn't even near me 😭
freckles 💗
you didn't say anything about wanting the ticket to be near you
be clearer next time what 👎👎
you
be so serious..
jessie facetimes you and obviously you answer. now sitting down on your bed, your phone propped up against a plushie near your pillow. you sitting slightly to the side, trying to braid your hair. once jessie phone connects, she's pouting, "i can't see your face."
"yes you can, jess," you giggle. jessie pouts gets worse, "hardly.."
"you're such a baby," you look at the screen to see jessie resting her face against one of the hotel bed pillows, her hair a little messy and out of a ponytail. the sight makes you giggle again; how she's looking is just proving your point. jessie is a baby.
"i'm not a baby. just miss you..wanna see you," she says softly. being away from you without talking much was already tiring her out. she wasn't used to it, if you two could be on the phone all day she would. the second you step foot into san diego, you aren't getting rid of her. irritation bothers her mind again as jessie remembers that you invited that blonde to come see the game. she smiles when you say, "miss you more. i feel so bad. it's my fault we haven't been talking and seeing eachother as much."
"blame ucla, isn't that what you said earlier?" jessie jokes, "no but seriously, it's not your fault. you're just so hardworking. it's admirable"
"i know jessie fleming isn't calling someone else hardworking," you joke back. trying to hide how jessie's compliment makes you smile so hard; it's her favorite thing to tease you about. she was addicted to complimenting you it seemed. the canadian always had something good to say about you, it's a habit she gained back when you two became friends in elementary.
she scoffs, "i swear you work harder than me." right after saying that she yawns. you don't even try to argue with her. knowing how stubborn jessie can be sometimes. you yawn too, the day was tiring enough and seeing jessie makes you even sleepier. you read somewhere about how people get all sleepy around others who make them feel safe? yeah, that's what's going on here. too bad you weren't in her arms right now, instead talking to a screen. you get up out of bed, going out of the frame to go cut off the light before coming back to lay on your bed. shifting to be in a similar position as jessie.
"god, now you're copying me? you're obsessed," she jokes, making you roll your eyes. "be so serious with yourself. you are the one always wearing my clothes."
"alright. i can't argue against that," jessie yawns again. you decide this is the best time to talk about the ticket situation before jessie ends up dozing off like she always does. you shift again, pressing your face against your pillow as you pull up the cover; making your lips slightly pouty. jessie smiles seeing you all pouty and sleepy. she couldn't wait to see you in person. too bad that smile doesn't last long as you say, "why would you get sash seats so far away from me? that woman is going to be so lost."
the canadian scoffs, not wanting to talk about this right now or talk about sasha in general, ever. she curses how kind you are; why can't you just not care about this blonde girl? like you don't even know her truly. "that's the ticket they gave me when i asked. don't blame me, all the seats around you were sold out," she pushes away your concern nonchalantly.
"and since when was blondie, sash?" she asks. it's your turn to scoff, remembering how sasha said only people who don't know her called her blondie, you say, "since today. and why do you call her blondie?"
"because i don't know her name."
"you literally called her sasha the other night."
"not my fault that it's forgettable. it's not like she's my friend," jessie says, not adding in how sasha isn't your friend either. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childishness. it was funny and adorable, but slightly annoying.
"ugh, alright, freckles. i'll drop it before i annoy you to death," you roll your eyes once jessie smiles. she thanks you before the conversation falls into talking about how she failed a push-up contest earlier.
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you and sasha fly out to san diego the day of the match. unfortunately college made it a little hard to come out earlier than saturday with you having an exam on thursday, but still you two make it.
checking into the same hotel as the canada national team at around six, an hour before the game. getting from the airport to the hotel was easy but the traffic was not fun. at least it wasn't as bad as la traffic, but still horrible.
you're standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared hotel room with sasha. you texted jessie earlier before you boarded the plane that you would be there with her text back a quick okay since she was busy preparing for the game. there wasn't a need to text her that you were here, it's not like she would be able to answer it.
"wow, you betrayed me. canada really?" sasha playfully says as she walks into the bathroom. wearing a usa jersey that has s.mewis on the back while you're wearing your usual fleming canada jersey. you smile as you tease back, "i'm canadian. what did you expect? you betrayed me actually. really, usa?"
sasha shrugs, leaning against the bathroom counter, "gotta support the fellow tall blonde. sammy is a total beast." you just smile and don't argue back. what could say? sam mewis is a force on the pitch. it's been years since you played and even you knew that.
you finish getting ready after almost fifteen minutes. with sasha coming in and out of the bathroom while explaining that she actually really enjoyed the usa when they played, but is just a casual fan. you two leave out of the hotel room with just enough time to grab a drink before going to the stadium.
"sorry that your ticket is like so far from me. jessie couldn't get one closer," you say to sasha as you sit beside her in y'all's uber. the blonde woman takes it well, just saying that she will catch you after the game. you explain to her that you two are going to go down on the pitch after, so she shouldn't leave and go back to the hotel.
"forgot your bestie was a bigshot," she says when you two reach the stadium. shutting the car door after you get out of the backseat. "yeah. freckles is just that good," you smile, pulling sasha along to one of the entrances. once you two go inside, y'all split up. sasha joking that she'll see you on the other side which makes you laugh.
when you reach your seat, you get comfortable. sipping on your strawberry drink as you wait for the match to get started. the stadium has a nice amount of fans, with you even noticing that some seats around you are empty. shaking your head as you think about jessie's excuse last night; all the seats around you were sold out? as if. speaking of jessie, you spot her on the pitch. she waves once you two's eyes meet. quinn, who's beside her, waves as well. giving you a heart gesture that you return.
soon enough the game starts. it's fast and intense with players on both sides being aggressive in their own right. jessie even scores a goal for canada which makes you scream. she gives you a smug smile when she passes by where you are in the stands, making you roll your eyes. the match continues on with you screaming a bit more everytime things got too intense. the score line ends up being seven to six; the usa scoring a last minute goal to secure the win. your eyes look at the usa players fall into a group hug before looking around the pitch at the canadian players who obviously didn't look as overjoyed.
fans start to leave the stadium after some of the players walked around to interact. jessie is still far off somewhere on the pitch while you get out of your seat and walk over to the stairs of your part of the stands. leaning against the railing, trying to look around if you can see a certain tall blonde in the rapidly emptying stadium. you don't notice when she comes up to you. she playfully pushes your arm as she says, "told you the usa would win."
"yeah, whatever. canada is going to get y'all back next time," you tease back. you two stand near the bottom of the stairs, right where the pitch meets the tunnel. it takes a bit but jessie starts to make her way over to you. a bright smile on her lips. you can tell how excited the freckled woman is by her fast walking, making you giggle. when she gets close enough you walk onto the pitch to meet her. pulling her into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck. sasha walks onto the pitch behind you but stays a few steps back.
"god, missed you," jessie's words come out half muffled as she nuzzles her face into your neck. her hands holding onto your waist. you sway a little, saying, "missed you more." soon jessie pulls her face out of your neck, still hugging you as she rests her head onto your shoulder. sasha and her eyes meet; jessie's hands moving lower onto your lower back, rubbing at the skin there with one of her hands going underneath the fabric of the fleming jersey you have on. the other resting on top of it.
"ew, your hand is all sweaty.." you mumble against her ear. jessie just chuckles, partially at your small disgust and partially at how sasha's eyes glance from where jessie's hands are on your body then back to meeting the canadian's eyes. the soccer player gives sasha a smug smile right before you pull away from the hug. you don't stray too far though, interlocking your hand with jessie's afterwards.
you pull jessie closer to sasha. smiling as you say, "sorry sash. we haven't seen each other in a while, so i got distracted." sasha nods, a small smile on her lips that don't really meet her eyes. she's about to speak when jessie cuts her off, "yeah, sorry.. savannah..? we just get carried away sometimes. i just been missing my bestfriend so much." you gently smack jessie's arm which makes her let out a soft ow. she looks at you and you look back.
while you and jessie are looking at each other, having a silent conversation with just eyes alone, sasha is looking at how you two's hands are interlocked. the way your thumb is rubbing on one of jessie's fingers; the way jessie gives your hand a light squeeze. her eyes look back up when jessie speaks, "sorry for forgetting your name. with the game and all, i'm just so tired."
"oh no, it's fine. we haven't even met really so i get it," sasha says. you let out a sigh of relief. just thankful sasha didn't take any offense; being rude to the only person in your entire lecture who actually talks to you would not be a good outcome. the conversation soon falls away into something else, with everyone wanting to move away from the awkward interaction.
eventually it's time to head to the bus to get back to the hotel. jessie doesn't let go of your hand once as she walks with you to the bus. sasha trailing behind. jessie stops next to the bus, glancing at sasha before saying to you, "are you going to come on the bus with me? everyone wants to see you and we were going to stop by this donut shop nearby that i know you'll like, i don't know where we're going to park such a huge bus, but we'll make it work i guess?"
you let out a giggle at her last sentence before considering jessie's question for a moment. stopping yourself from saying yes right away; jessie and donuts? you wanted to say yes badly, but then you looked behind you to see sasha and remembered that you didn't come to san diego alone.
"can't, jess. i don't want to let sasha take an uber alone. it's evening time," you explain. the blonde woman smiles hearing how you are so considerate. jessie wants to pull that smile off her face; what is she even smiling for? it wasn't some over romantic gesture. you're just a nice person. that's why blondie is here anyways because you want to be nice to people who frankly don't even hold value to you. jessie pushes away her annoyance, just saying, "okay. better come to my hotel room the moment i get to there, you have to get your donut." you smile and nod, pulling jessie into a hug before letting her go onto the bus.
sasha and you walk back to one of the entrances of the stadium. waiting for around five minutes for an uber, you hold the door open for sasha to let her in first and then you get in after.
the ride back to the hotel is awkward, but alright. you wanted to apologize for basically leaving sasha out the moment jessie appeared, but you thought that bringing it up would make everything else worse. while in the uber, sasha asks you a question, "there's this pizza place near the hotel that i been wanting to go to. never had the chance, college and all but i was wondering if you wanted to go. like tonight."
"tonight?" you look at sasha, seeing a hopeful look in her eyes. that look sealed your fate the moment you saw it; you been blowing her off all day, she deserves this one thing, right?
"yeah, sure."
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you two reach the hotel before the canadian national team bus does. after going to y'all's hotel room and changing out of your match outfits. you slip into one of jessie's t-shirts and some jeans. while sasha is changing in the bathroom into a yellow sundress. while you're sitting on your bed, waiting for sasha, you get a text from jessie that the team is back at the hotel.
"i'm going to go see jessie! she's here! i'll be back soon though, i swear," you shout out towards the bathroom before leaving out of the hotel room quickly. not even catching sasha's response. you find jessie's room, the freckled woman standing there next to her door. she must have put her bag inside of her room because it wasn't anywhere near her. she's holding two donuts, smiling when she sees you walking towards her, "gotchu your favorite. had to fight off ashley for it."
"you could've let her take it. we could have shared," you take your donut, taking a small bite. you enjoy it for a moment before remembering you have come here on a mission. "okay, jessie, listen.." by your tone jessie can already tell you're about to say something she wasn't going to like.
"sasha asked to go to this pizza shop that she's been wanting to go to for so long and i have been ignoring basically all day and i feel so bad, so i'm going to go with her but once i get back, i'm sleeping in your hotel room," you say. jessie lets out a soft groan at hearing that you were going to technically blow her off for blondie. that tall chick couldn't have to want to go to that place that bad. she does smile hearing you say that you'll come sleep in her room after, but still, she wanted you for the whole night. not as some afterthought.
jessie shakes her head before saying, "i don't wanna impose but can i come along? you know i'm always hungry after games." that sentence wasn't even a lie she made up to join in on your little pizza date. you knew how hungry jessie got after every game especially if she was a starter.
"your appetite can never be squashed. whatever, c'mon," you laugh, pulling on her arm to bring her along with you down the hall.
"i haven't even eaten my donut yet and neither have you!"
"we'll snack on the way to the room!"
"what about my clothes? i have to change, i don't even have my hoodie on anymore."
"god jessie, you steal my clothes any other time. just borrow again."
you two bicker like usual all the way on the walk to the hotel room. the donuts are half gone by the time you two reach it. "so is sasha like in the room on the left or right of yours?" jessie asks. you give her a look, about to tell her that actually sasha and you got a joint room, but you don't even have to as sasha opens the door.
jessie stares blankly from sasha to you to sasha to you and finally landing her glance on you.
"what..?" jessie doesn't even hide the irritation in her voice, this was really starting to piss her off now.
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author notes: woww another cliffhanger 😱😱 i hope y'all liked it because i enjoyed writing it, tell me your thoughts about it too 💔💔 all the engagement was fun last time
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
260 notes · View notes
giddyfatherchris · 3 days
Text
📱skz texts —how they react/comfort you (when you're going through a rough patch with a friend)
| including. bang chan, lee know
warnings. mentions of homophobia, anxiety and depression (but not going in depth with any of these subjects)
a/n. FINALLY!! channie and lee know’s part babyyyy honestly i kept procrastinating but today i decided enough is enough.😤 again, these are not in order but i cannot be 🎶booOoOoOthereeeddd🎶 so :) hope you enjoy mwah xxx
changbin, seungmin & i.n
hyunjin, han & felix
Lee Know
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He knew from your texts you were not in your normal state. You were usually such a bubbly person, but when you answered so drily to his questions, he knew something was wrong.
As he waited for you to come home, he couldn't help but pace in his apartment. You weren't living together yet, but you spent so much time at his flat that you claimed it as your second home comfortably. In the 15 minutes it took for you to arrive, Lee Know had prepared himself for many scenarios, but he could have never predicted how you opened harshly the door and slammed it shut. Your ritual of crouching on the floor, calling for his three cats, was brutally ignored as you stomped to the kitchen.
"Hi, baby." He tentatively tried. Cautious, he kept his distance as you grunted in answer. You opened the fridge door, looked for a milli second before you closed it, then repeated the same process with the pantry. You made yourself a glass of water, didn't even take a sip, and grumbled as you looked in front of you, not really seeing anything. You abandoned it on the counter, ready to stomp away, when Lee Know put himself in your trajectory.
"What's going on?"
You would have kept walking if he hadn't grabbed you by the shoulders and blocked you from carrying on.
"Uh?" you looked at him as if you were just now seeing him. "Nothing, something at work, it's enraging." 
"Then please tell me so I can know who to kill," he replied in an equally angered tone. His hold on your shoulders tightened slightly at the thought someone had hurt you. 
You looked at him, surprised. "What, kill someone?" 
"Please, Y/n. I've never seen you like this. I don't know what happened, but for it to put you in that state, I'm guessing it's pretty serious." 
He had to pull it out of you, but you finally explained how you discovered one of your coworkers, who you considered a friend, was, in fact, a raging homophobic, queer-hating asshole. When you first heard him comment on someone else wearing a rainbow pin, you had laughed it off, thinking he was being dumb, but he kept adding on, and you realized, horrified, that he was being serious. 
Cherry on top, when you told him you were pansexual, he had stared at you with this idiotic air and asked if you were attracted to kitchen appliances. It ended up with you terminating that 'friendship' and leaving the office completely enraged. 
Your boyfriend listened carefully to your story. His piercing eyes set on you when he finally stated, "I have no idea how you managed not to smack him in the face." 
You let out a dry chuckle, telling the story again only egged you on, and brought up a familiar gloom you hadn't felt in a while. Immediately, he noticed the change in your demeanor, how the burning rage had simmered to a profound sadness. "Hey, it's okay, you can report the bastard, you know. He can't go around saying stuff like that."
You wrapped your arms around your middle, your lower lip softly shaking as you exhaled. "It's been a long time since I've been directly in contact with someone like that. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it maybe others knew, and they considered me badly for hanging out with him. I feel so bad."
He pulled you to him, softly resting his chin on top of your head. "Some people are really good at hiding who they truly are. He never said anything before, you never could have known."
"I know, but I somewhat feel like a traitor to my community," you covered your face with your hands before hiding in his chest. "Is that dumb?"  
He softly pushed you back and leveled his gaze with yours. "That is a little dumb because you did not betray your community, okay? You can't betray someone if you've also been fooled. And you know what's the best thing to do now? Report his ass. I'm sure if you do, there will be others who feel comfortable speaking up."
Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. "You're right. I want queer people to feel safe at work. The thought that I might have been seen as someone who would threaten that makes me sick. But if I speak up, that could change. Maybe we could even create a comity to do sensibilization about homophobia in the workplace." The gloom in your eyes was replaced with a fire. "One thing is sure, I won't let it happen again.
He gave you an adorable grin as he softly grabbed your chin. "My little fighter, I'm proud of you."
Your eyes disappeared into a happy smile as you hugged him again. "Thank you for always supporting me, although I am slightly scared of how little it took to convince you to kill someone." 
He laughed before grabbing you over his shoulder and whispered with a diabolical expression. "You shouldn't." 
Because really, there shouldn't be a doubt in your mind that this man was ready to make anyone who hurt you pay a terrible price. 
Bang Chan
The leader rubbed his hands on his face in an attempt to wipe away all the exhaustion. He looked back at his computer screen, feeling a violent cramp in his head causing his eyes to squeeze shut of their own accords. 
"Okay, okay. I get it. No more computer today."
He grabbed his phone before getting up, pleading his eyes to survive one last exposure to the light of a screen. He clicked on your name and quickly typed in, asking you what you wanted to eat for dinner but all signs of fatigue disappeared once he saw your answer. Worry replaced any feelings in his heart, his tired eyes fixed on the device.
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What could have happened for you to be so down? He knew you were dealing with a difficult friend lately, but could it have gotten this bad so quickly? He wondered if he should push it, ask you more, but as his eyes started burning again he realized it would probably be of no help and he should wait for you to get home. Chan looked around the apartment, an uneasy feeling in his chest, a restlessness agitating his limbs. You were hurting and he couldn’t stay still, waiting for you to arrive. Then it clicked, he looked at your messages once again, closed the app and started dialing a number he was starting to know very well. As the line rang, a smirk slowly took place on his full lips.
You tiredly entered your apartment, welcomed with a delicious aroma. You kicked your boots off, more than ready to change into comfortable clothes and hug your boyfriend. 
Your heart melted at the sight waiting for you in the kitchen. Chan, his sleeve rolled up, showing his strong forearms, was very focused on the pots and pans burbling in front of him. He softly hummed to the soft jazz music playing in the background, completely oblivious to the world around him. You silently walked to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, loving how his strong back felt on your cheek through his clothes. 
"Jesus! You scared me," he whined, still, you could hear the smile in his voice as his hands wrapped around yours. "How are you?"
You didn't answer, feeling tears prickling your eyes and that burning sensation in your nose when you knew you were about to cry. You buried your face in his clothes, hoping it would muffle the sound of your sobs. 
"Y/n?" he quickly turned around, realizing you were far from okay. "Hey, baby what's going on?"
Violent sobs shook your body as you slid to the floor engulfed in Chan’s reassuring embrace, allowing you to let it all go. Once you calmed down enough to take a big breath, he asked again. "Baby, what happened?" 
Softly, he brushed his fingers through your hair. He was a calm and reassuring presence for you in all the chaos. You knew you could trust him, knew you could tell him anything and he would be there for you.
"You know my ´friend’, our relationship was already rocky, I knew that, but I thought it was getting better. When we studied together the other day, we talked so much, about anything and everything and even personal stuff. I thought we were getting over that petty argument, but today I heard them tell other people from my classes how I was faking my anxiety disorder and depression symptoms. They said I only did it to get attention and that I- I was an addict." Your voice broke on the last word, horrified that such words could have come out of their mouth.
Chan had to fight everything in him not to go after them right now. If there was one thing he despised it was when the ones he loved were hurt. He couldn't bear it. He knew how hard it had been for you to get a diagnosis and start taking medication. How could someone be heartless enough to make such comments? 
"I heard some of the people in the group defend me, but still... I can't believe it. I'm so stupid, I never should have told them about it."
"Y/n. You are not stupid. They are the assholes. You are not stupid for trusting someone you thought was a friend okay? I don't ever want you to think you are stupid for that."
You looked at him with teary eyes. He felt himself melt and soften, all anger disappearing when he realized how badly you needed him. "You are not stupid. You are not faking anything." he softly stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he did. "I'm so proud of you for reaching out for help. I'm proud of you every damn day, and you know the people who really love you do too." You closed your eyes, relishing in his warm touch, allowing his soft voice to erase every doubt and fear. He softly kissed your forehead, "Okay?"
"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you I don't know what I would do without you."
"You would still do amazing because you are one of the strongest person I've ever met."
You chuckled at his comment. "You're so cheesy. Still, I'm pretty happy to have you." You lifted your head towards the stove. "Especially if you tell me you've been cooking for me." You took a deep breath in, finally registering what it was you were smelling. You looked back at him, already smiling, a look of surprise on your face. "Is- is that my mom’s… How, how did you do it?"
A proud and satisfied expression was printed on his features. "You wanted your mom’s spaghetti so I called and asked her to help me make it. Turns out the recipe isn’t that hard." He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear while you stared at him like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, which he was.
"I can’t believe you did that. My mother has never told anyone her recipe!"
"Yeah, about that. I might have had to make a deal with her to get it…" You rolled your eyes, ready to hear some embarrassing stunt your mother pulled on your boyfriend. "I had to explain why I wanted the recipe, and she might have made me promise we’d go visit your family in two weeks while you’re on spring break."
You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, asking him a thousand time if he was kidding, if this was really happening, while he promised over and over again it was. You pulled back to look at the satisfied smile growing on his lips. Chan was a sure value in your life, maybe the only true one, and as you looked at him, his dimpled smile and the satisfaction he had in preparing all this for you, you knew this was it. He was everything you would ever need.
215 notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 2 days
Text
|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification
|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye
|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching
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“Where are we going?”
Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.
“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 
She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 
Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.
“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”
“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”
Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 
“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 
Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 
Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.
He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 
There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 
Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”
She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.
“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 
To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 
“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 
Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”
The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”
“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”
Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 
“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”
“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”
The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 
You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 
It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 
The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 
That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.
 
“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 
You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 
It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 
When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”
You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 
“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 
This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.
He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 
Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  
“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 
You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 
Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.
Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 
“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 
Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 
“Take me with you.” 
That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”
“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”
Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 
“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 
He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”
“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 
He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 
Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 
Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.
Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.
Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 
Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 
“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 
His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 
The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 
“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 
“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 
Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 
“Well? Got what you need?"
Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.
And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 
“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”
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ozzgin · 2 days
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Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader
I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!
Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere
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He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.
Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.
He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?
You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.
"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?
Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.
Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.
"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."
The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.
"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."
You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.
"You're never getting away from me, love."
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ecliphttlunar · 2 days
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Medicine - Chris Sturniolo
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Summary: You were having a difficult day where negative thoughts shook you, but luckily your boyfriend Chris is always there to save you
Warnings: cute, hugs, kisses, negative thoughts, a little angst
Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.
��☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
You were sad, so sad, at that moment, your life didn't seem to make sense.
You felt ugly, incapable, inappropriate, God! You were feeling every negative feeling there was, even non-existent ones.
And there weren't enough words that could describe what you were feeling.
You traveled all over the world, collected lyrics, but nothing, nothing could describe this feeling that took over your heart.
And so you asked yourself, how could you talk to someone about this?
Talking to others about your feelings was never really a problem, at least not with your closest friends.
But now? You were a child who was left on a road in the middle of the night.
Lost.
Alone.
In the dark.
At least that's what you thought while cooking dinner at the triplets' house.
You thought that no one could understand what you were feeling, not when you couldn't form words, so why waste other people's time, why be inconvenient by saying that you didn't feel well, when no one could understand you, help you.
When you didn't even understand what you were feeling?
You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice Chris's gaze on you.
Chris knew something was wrong the moment you appeared in the room, your shoulders slumped, your eyes heavy, your smile weak, dejected.
You always had big smiles that brighten any darkness, but now? His smile was wan, a smile that tried to hide his tears.
He didn't know what had happened, if someone hurt you, if they said something that hurt you, if you were in physical pain or not.
But he knew, he was sure, that everything wasn't okay.
Then, he got up from the couch, the place he had been sitting staring at you for the last 10 minutes, and walked towards you.
You were always alert to your surroundings, no matter the situation, you always noticed when something had happened to someone, or when a person approached, so when he approached you, and you didn't notice, as if someone had blindfolded you , he worried.
He was behind you, when he wrapped his arms around you, you were a little startled by the sudden contact, jumping slightly, and looking back.
It was just Chris.
You let out a sigh of relief.
"Don't do that anymore, you scared me" You said softly, when you went back to mixing the food in the pan.
"Everything is fine?" He ignored what you said, needing to know what was happening as quickly as possible.
"Why the question?" You ask back.
You always did this, when you didn't want to answer something, you asked the person a question as an answer.
"You don't look like you're on planet Earth today"
"No? Where do I look like I am? In fact, if I weren't on earth, how would you be hugging me now?"
“No, not like that, you’re here, but at the same time, you’re not here” you raise an eyebrow.
“Your body is here, your mind is not” You go back to mixing dinner, taking a deep breath.
"It's okay, I'm just tired" You weren't lying, you really were tired, but one of the main reasons for those words was because you really wanted to close this subject, you know that tomorrow you would wake up better.
But of course, Chris didn't accept that. He knew there was something more, and he wanted to find out what it was.
He was always like that, he was always there for you, even when you didn't want anyone, you just wanted to be alone.
And that was why you loved him so much.
Because he was your guardian angel, your bulletproof vest when everything got dangerous, he stayed in front of you when you were in the crosshairs.
He was there to heal all your scars.
And you knew he could save you now, when you are in the crosshairs of negativity.
His body leaned over yours a little, taking the spoon out of your hand and throwing it into the sink.
You tried to take the spoon back, making the excuse that the food wasn't ready and you needed to stir it more.
But Chris was watching you, he knew that you had turned off the stove for more than 5 minutes.
He turned his body to face him, and hugged his waist.
"Talk to me, what's going on?" He asked again.
But what he received in response was silence, and his eyes were watery.
"Honey..." He began, a speech already planned in his mind to make you speak, at least the basics, so he would know what happened, but this moving speech was not necessary, because right after he called you, the words ran out of his mouth like a river.
And now, you were a mess.
A beautiful mess in Chris's eyes, even with your tear stained face, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, you looked beautiful.
The gods knew how beautiful you looked.
"I don't know, I woke up like this, I'm just sad, nothing really happened, I just... I feel ugly, inappropriate, annoying, I don't know, I, I don't know, I can't explain it." You tried, you really tried, but you couldn't, gods, you didn't even know who you were at that moment.
You didn't know what were happening.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, pretty girl, it's okay, you don't need to say anything else, I already understand, I got you, I'm here with you." He cupped your face and dried your tears, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. Trying to calm you down.
Which, even though it took a while, worked.
You let out a shaky breath. And when you look up, back at him, you realize he was thinking of a solution.
"What do you think about us lying down, cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, we don't need to say anything, just cuddle, do you want that?"
You smile lightly and nod, hugging Chris's waist, and hiding your face in his chest.
You stayed like that for a while, when you finally started moving to the couch, you on top of Chris, while you chose a movie.
It had been about 10 minutes into the movie, and you were already feeling better, but there was still something bothering you.
And of course, Chris noticed, so he did what he knew would help, what always helps, he kissed you.
He gently grabbed your chin and kissed your lips, making all that pain you were feeling go away.
Making you feel better than you ever have.
He could do this.
He was your medicine.
You separate, and look at each other, you smile in thanks, and lay your head back on his chest.
For the first time that day, feeling good.
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mysticheathenn · 2 days
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What Do You Need To Work On To Bring in Love?
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about where in your life that you need to work on in order to bring in love.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Awakening, 5 of Cups, Page of Wands, 8 of Swords, Knight of Cups.
Self Esteem. Regardless of gender some of you have dealt with a "maneater" in the past. What I mean is you dealt with someone who made you feel as if you weren't worth anyone's time. They made you feel little, made you question your worth, and so forth. Some of you are either still dealing with this person (very few) while others of you are still grieving and trying to heal from this past relationship. Some of you are actually trying to heal but every single time you feel you are making any kind of progress you take two steps back and it's ass if you're still in that relationship all over again. You're not too sure how to change things for the better or heck some of you don't think you will get better and you will forever be "broken". I'm here to tell you that things will get better, you just need to find out WHO you are and what YOU think of yourself and not what anyone else thinks. Find something that you like about yourself no matter how small. This can be you loving your dimples, your kindness, the way your farts smell, anything, and start from there and work your way up to other things you may love about yourself. Ask loved ones what they love about you and try to see what they see and do affirmations in the mirror. Some of you may even benefit from Mirror Work or if you are readers reading Mirror Work by Louise Hay. Either way, you are worth loving, you are beautiful, you are amazing, etc etc.
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Pile ll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Pentacles (reversed), The Sun, 10 of Cups (reversed), King of Cups
Mindset. Similar to Pile l but a bit different. Instead of this pile dealing with a previous relationship, I'm hearing "It's me, hi...I'm the problem it's me" You are the problem. Some of you don't believe that you are meant to be happy or even find true love. This could be because of a previous relationship that made you feel this way or because of self-worth or the constant videos on social media that show you toxic relationships and you feel that all the good people are taken. Either way, You need to start believing that good things can and will happen for you regardless of what your surroundings show you. Regardless of how the past has treated you. Most importantly regardless of what social media or even your friends and family's relationships may show you to make you want to stay single. True love is out there and it's waiting for you to switch your mindset to the Sun card and believe that all good things happen to you. Nothing but amazing people flow into your life. Some of you I believe may feel this way because you constantly get lesson after lesson from the universe and from what I am hearing for a "good" reason that I rather not touch on because everyone's path is different. ("Good" meaning transformation within yourself for the better not good that you deserve it.) Read romance novels, and tap into the algorithm that shows you healthy relationships. I know there was a trend on TikTok recently where one female wanted people to display their healthy relationships to give others hope because her algorithm kept showing toxicity and weaponized incompetence from partners, etc. Do any and everything that you can do to surround yourself with positive and loving love.
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Pile lll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), King of Swords, Page of Wands, 5 of Swords
Self Worth. Pile lll you have a horrible habit of letting people go. You're like a hoarder but for people. Some of you are giving me the definition of "I can fix them." Even when a person treats you horribly, even when someone disrespects you, even when a person shows you nothing but red flags, you are always there for them ready to take whatever it is they want to give you. You literally will take whatever scraps a person will give you if it means that you feel they thought of you for a split second. A very few have FOMO. What do I mean? I mean you are staying in this toxic environment waiting for that one day or the chance of them turning their ways around and treating you the way that you truly deserve. Instead of you constantly always making excuses for their bad and wild behavior. Call a spade a spade, please. If they are not calling, being communicative, or even giving you the time of day. They are not interested. I think I have a video clip of what you need to hear, Click Here. The lady in the video speaks about men but this goes for any and all genders if I am being honest. People will do what they want to do. People will treat you how they want to treat you regardless of gender. Overall the saying being delulu is the solulu was not meant for you babe. Wake up, smell, and pour the coffee on yourself to wake up your senses to know you deserve better and there are people out here ready to give you attention, love, affection, etc and you don't have to beg or wait by the door like a dog for it.
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Pile lV:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Wands, The Moon, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), The Emperor, 8 of Swords
Divine Feminine. Pile lV I want to hug you because I see myself in you a bit. You deal with hyper-independence badly when it comes to relationships or even in life for some of you. Just in case you don't know what that means, it means you can't release control to others because you feel like the saying "If you want something done right, do it yourself." Someone or many people in your life or even past relationships always made you feel like you always had to do everything because you can't count on everyone. You literally have to carry the whole relationship on your shoulders. You also remind me of the quote "Since I stopped texting people first, I haven't heard from a lot of people in a while." You may have also been drawn to pile lll some of you at least. Either way, you need to start operating in your divine feminine and letting the chips fall where they may. If anyone wants to be in your life the phone, intentions, etc works both ways. Let people show you how much you mean to them without needing to control every single outcome in order to not want to lose someone because you either aren't sure when or if someone else will come along or because you want this relationship to work out because you have been in so many that you are tired of leaving the chips where it may. For a few of you, I sense you may be the type that has a five year plan like you want to have kids, get married, have a few dogs, that kind of plan and you feel if you leave it up to others you will never get there. One thing I will tell you about that mindset is it will have you settling pile lV. Let people show you how they love others. If it isn't what you expect, want, or desire then you need to leave. Stop settling, stop trying to carry the entire relationship, just stop baby. You deserve to for once operate in your feminine energy. You deserve to sit back and relax while you let someone pour into you instead of the other way around.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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mishellii · 2 days
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♢ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢
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naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi
a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH
likes & reblogs appreciated <3
warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual
masterlist
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♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢
✿oh my baby boy
❀first off: angel. 100%.
✿because u are his angel u feel me
❀he can't go a day without telling u
✿then also just the basic baby
❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done
✿puppy eyes and all
❀and also during sexy time
✿it's his most used name for u there
✿fight me on this
❀big on his own self made nicknames for u
✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?
❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"
✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye
❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew
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♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢
✿now this guy is a wild card
❀he'd prefer ur name through & through
✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously
❀because he barely ever calls u that
✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife
❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with
❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."
✿during sex he can be quiet mean 
❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way
✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."
❀when ur just about to black out??
✿but like i said 
❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3
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♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢
✿pretty
❀just pretty bro.
✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA
❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely
✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,
❀woman. and brat.
✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."
❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working
✿,,i'm busy, brat.''
❀in bed tho???
✿love or doll
❀i'm almost CERTAIN.
✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???
❀PFFF i'm on my knees 
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♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢
✿now this fucker
❀teasing names through & through
✿ur shorter than him? 
❀"hey, shortie, need help?"
✿ur taller than him?
❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"
✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)
❀but he can be sweet too i promise
✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby 
❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?
✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u
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♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢
✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,
❀bug or lovebug
✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY
❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these
✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names
❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho
✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex
❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU
✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:
❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming
✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''
❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not
✿UGH lovesick fr
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♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢
❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him 
✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting
❀sweetheart, love & darling
✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying
❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it 
✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER
❀& i will die on this hill 
✿NEVER use any degrading names for u
❀ur his baby don't make him do that
✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane
❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"
✿ sedate me pls
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♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢
✿AAA this guy
❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel
✿u can't change my mind
❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off
✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside
❀i'm thinking toots & peach
✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''
❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first
✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u
❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all
✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3
❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof
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♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢
✿AHEM
❀so this man,,
✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name
❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable
✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.
❀his most frequently used one too i'd say
✿but then he'd go like 
❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"
✿and idk about u but i'd faint
❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO
✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN
❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips 
✿i'm (s)creaming
❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!
✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3
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a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x
devider by @enchanthings
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acapelladitty · 2 days
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Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)
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Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard
Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.
(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
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Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.
Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.
Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.
"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"
"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?
"Do you want to have sex?"
In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.
"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"
Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.
"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."
"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."
Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.
"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."
Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.
"Why not? It's only sex."
Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.
Lucy Maclean.
Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.
It's only sex.
In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.
War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.
Not when he had to come home to Barb.
Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.
War never changes.
But he did.
And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.
Not for Lucy Maclean though.
She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.
"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."
Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.
"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."
"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.
"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."
He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.
It would be so easy to have her.
A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.
Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.
"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."
Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.
"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"
Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.
"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.
Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.
Goddamn Lucy Maclean.
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theminecraftbee · 2 days
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Just out of curiosity, do you know any alternative ways of showing types of relationships that could be used on ao3? I find the & and / method to be very constraining, especially with ambiguous or multi-dimensional relationships. & for platonic and / for romantic does not allow for a proper representation of nonstandard relationships, for example an enemy/loathing or polyamorous relationship. (Homestuck quadrants are their own thing and are not what I am asking for/about.)
answer that answers your question:
yes and no. if you just want another category of markers to exist, i know you said no homestuck quadrants, but those are probably most commonly used, although they're all synned to the / tag. i've seen some exchanges that want to differentiate use /& together, i've seen ? be used, and i've seen some invent their own tag (largely exchanges use these for matching purposes and it's rare but i HAVE seen it). however, there's no unifying convention, and ao3 will eventually syn all of these to either the / or & tag (usually the / unless the wranglers have a very good reason to think it's the & tbh). so know that even if you use your own symbol, it will show up in the relationship tag it ends up synned to.
one of the most common solutions to this is to use the symbol closest to what you want--personally i tend to just use the & unless there's fic content i think gen fans would really hate, since & is the tag that covers the much wider spectrum of relationships in my head, although some people will differ--and use freeform tags to disambiguate. for example, last days has the & tag for joe and cleo, along with a "queerplatonic relationships" tag! i believe "ambiguous relationships" is also a canonical tag, and you don't have to use canonicals if you can't find the one you like! the world is your oyster.
(here i'll also note: the & doesn't require them be like... friends. it just requires the fic be about their relationship in some way, and for this relationship to not be romantic or sexual. enemies is absolutely covered here, as is like, weird coworkers, or even tags like "hero & the public".)
(similarly, the / tag doesn't require they like each other, it just requires it to be a "ship"; enemies who have a ton of sexual tension goes under this, as do things like abusive romantic or sexual relationships; just make sure you're using your warnings and additional tags appropriately!)
the other most common solution is to tag both the / and & tag and use a tag like the "ambiguous relationships" or "this can be read as either" or "queerplatonic relationships" or whatever other disambiguating tag you think it needs. this is less common in the mcyt fandom because of the mcyt fandom's history of being SUPER WEIRD about shipping, but it's often the most common solution in fandoms that aren't this one.
"i want ao3 to have a ship tag that is neither & nor /, and is not considered synonymous with either" unfortunately this doesn't exist and isn't going to. like i'd love to say there's a way to make it exist but it Won't because of how ao3 was designed to work on a backend level and also ao3 does NOT change quickly, for better or for worse. you're going to have to pick between "make up a symbol and it will probably be synned to /", "use the tag you think you like best", or "use both". i wish there was another option too, if it helps, but the additional tags are really useful here!
"use no relationship tag" is also always an option; the relationship tag is not a required tag!
answer that answers your two examples, neither of which really fit the question as i understand it, hence me separating them out:
a fic about the relationship between two enemies is either the & tag if you just want the one that is actually meant to be used or the / tag if you mean for it to be like, the kind of enemies that have sexual tension. use additional tags to additionally disambiguate (example: just put in the tags the canonical tag "enemies" and you're good to go). the & tag is for ANY kind of platonic relationship, it does not require the two characters like each other, only that the fic is about their relationship! you can use the homestuck <3< if you REALLY wanna make it clear but that's synned to /, so like, up to you. if you're super worried someone will misunderstand the & tag you can also just not tag a relationship, relationships aren't mandatory tags.
i have no idea why you're asking about polyamory because that has a solution that's entirely unrelated to the problem you propose: you just tag the ship. ship tags with more than two names in them are legal tags, as long as it doesn't go over ao3's tag character limit you're good. if you do hit the limit, just use more than one tag! this is totally fine and follows ao3 conventions, don't worry. if it's the kind of polyamorous relationship with metamours, where not everyone is dating everyone, this is where more than one overlapping relationship tag REALLY helps. plus: you can mix / and & tags! not all of them will be canonical yet, but that's true of ANY ship tag you're originating! i have seen the form of "character/character & character" in many fandoms before, it's totally valid and will disambiguate! (also, the ensemble tags may help you here if you're doing like, a polyhermits thing; "hermitcraft ensemble/hermitcraft ensemble" is a legal tag and i think what polyhermits is probably synned to.)
so yeah, hopefully this helps some! good luck out there!
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oddballwriter · 2 days
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The Baby Dream
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Summary: You tend to have "the baby dream" every once in a while, but you never really mentioned it to your boyfriend Marc let alone had a conversation about having a baby with him in general. You tell him about the one you just had this time.
Warnings: not really anything real to warn about other than the reader's character feels a little sad when they find out that their baby was only something in their dream. Implied afab reader and implied that they breastfeed their baby. 
Author’s Snip: I have a mix of baby fever and recently had a baby dream of my own so I decided to use that as a prompt.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 618
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Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (you too can join my tag list, just ask)
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The sound of a small soft grunt and whine wakes you right up. The morning sun breaches through the bedroom curtains and gives the room a soft lighting that makes the room visible without burning your still sleepy eyes. You look around for a bit, finding Marc still asleep and snoring softly. You sit up in bed and find the source of the noise, seeing a crib in the corner of the room along the wall.
Oh, looks like Mel's awake. Who's Mel? You and Marc's baby daughter of course!
You get up, careful not to wake Marc since he dealt with her waking up and crying in the middle of the night. Walking over to her crib, you look down and see her look back at you with her cute little eyes. They look just like the boys', all big and doe-like.
You scoop her up and out of her crib and cradle her in your arms. You feel her weight in your arms along with her squirming slightly to get comfortable.
"Good morning," you softly coo, "How'd you sleep? Huh?" you ask her. Of course, she can't answer, but judging that she didn't wake up crying like she usually does when she's had trouble sleeping, she slept just fine. Mel's tiny hands grip your pajama shirt. "I see we want breakfast now," you comment in response to her grabbing.
You walk back to the bed so that you can be comfortable while you feed her, but when you're supposed feel yourself sit, you wake up.
The room looks just the same, say for the fact that Marc is in the act of getting up out of bed this time. "Oh shit, sorry, hun. Did I wake you up?" Marc asks. You shake your head and carefully sit up and look towards the corner where Mel's crib was, but there's nothing there. No crib or baby...
Right. You don't have a baby together. It was just another baby dream that you have occasionally. You feel a bit of weight in your chest at the fact that you and Marc's baby girl wasn't real. Even though she only existed in your dream for a moment it felt so real. Like you actually had her and took care of her.
You realize that you're starting to tear up and shake off the feeling. "Sorry, I just had a dream," you explain. "Do you want to talk about it?" Marc gently asks. You take a moment and then a breath. "We had a baby," you say, "That was it. We had a baby together and I woke up to her waking up and I held her for a bit before I actually woke up." you explain further. "It's a normal thing. I have dreams where I have a baby from time to time." you mention.
Marc just look at you for a second. You look towards him to see what has him so quiet. He has that look on his face when he's thinking about something and trying to choose his words. You let him do his thinking before he finally speaks. "Do... you want a baby?" he asks.
"Yes?" you say, unsure yourself. "I don't know. It's sort of a hormone thing, like baby fever," you say. "We've never really had that talk before, I know. So I don't know if you want to have kids," you mention. "Okay, but do you want to have kids someday?" Marc rephrases his question. "Yeah. I'd like to have a family with you someday when we're ready." you answer.
Marc nods. "Yeah..." he says, "I think that would be a good conversation to have sometime soon." he adds with a slight smile.
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