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batboyblog · 1 month

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Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #31

August 9-16 2024

President Biden and Vice-President Harris announced together the successful conclusion of the first negotiations between Medicare and pharmaceutical companies over drug prices. For years Medicare was not allow to directly negotiate princes with drug companies leaving seniors to pay high prices. It has been a Democratic goal for many years to change this. President Biden noted he first introduced a bill to allow these negotiations as a Senator back in 1973. Thanks to Inflation Reduction Act, passed with no Republican support using Vice-President Harris' tie breaking vote, this long time Democratic goal is now a reality. Savings on these first ten drugs are between 38% and 79% and will collectively save seniors $1.8 billion dollars in out of pocket costs. This comes on top of the Biden-Harris Administration already having capped the price of insulin for Medicare's 3.5 million diabetics at $35 a month, as well as the Administration's plan to cap Medicare out of pocket drug costs at $2,000 a year starting January 2025.

President Biden and Vice President Harris have launched a wide ranging all of government effort to crack down on companies wasting customers time with excessive paperwork, hold times, and robots rather than real people. Some of the actions from the "Time is Money" effort include: The FTC and FCC putting forward rules that require companies to make canceling a subscription or service as easy as signing up for it. The Department of Transportation has required automatic refunds for canceled flights. The CFPB is working on rules to require companies to have to allow customers to speak to a real person with just one button click ending endless "doom loops" of recored messages. The CFPB is also working on rules around chatbots, particularly their use from banks. The FTC is working on rules to ban companies from posting fake reviews, suppressing honest negative reviews, or paying for positive reviews. HHS and the Department of Labor are taking steps to require insurance companies to allow health claims to be submitted online. All these actions come on top of the Biden Administration's efforts to get rid of junk fees.

President Biden and First Lady Jill Biden announced further funding as part of the President's Cancer Moonshot. The Cancer Moonshot was launched by then Vice-President Biden in 2016 in the aftermath of his son Beau Biden's death from brain cancer in late 2015. It was scrapped by Trump as political retaliation against the Obama-Biden Administration. Revived by President Biden in 2022 it has the goal of cutting the number of cancer deaths in half over the next 25 years, saving 4 million lives. Part of the Moonshot is Advanced Research Projects Agency for Health (ARPA-H), grants to help develop cutting edge technology to prevent, detect, and treat cancer. The President and First Lady announced $150 million in ARPA-H grants this week focused on more successful cancer surgeries. With grants to Tulane, Rice, Johns Hopkins, and Dartmouth, among others, they'll help fund imaging and microscope technology that will allow surgeons to more successfully determine if all cancer has been remove, as well as medical imaging focused on preventing damage to healthy tissues during surgeries.

Vice-President Harris announced a 4-year plan to lower housing costs. The Vice-President plans on offering $25,000 to first time home buyers in down-payment support. It's believed this will help support 1 million first time buyers a year. She also called for the building of 3 million more housing units, and a $40 billion innovation fund to spur innovative housing construction. This adds to President Biden's call for a $10,000 tax credit for first time buyers and calls by the President to punish landlords who raise the rent by over 5%.

President Biden Designates the site of the 1908 Springfield Race Riot a National Monument. The two day riot in Illinois capital took place just blocks away from Abraham Lincoln's Springfield home. In August 1908, 17 people die, including a black infant, and 2,000 black refugees were forced to flee the city. As a direct result of the riot, black community leaders and white allies met a few months later in New York and founded the NAACP. The new National Monument will seek to preserve the history and educate the public both on the horrible race riot as well as the foundation of the NAACP. This is the second time President Biden has used his authority to set up a National Monument protecting black history, after setting up the Emmett Till and Mamie Till-Mobley National Monument on Emmett Till's 82nd birthday July 25th 2023.

The Department of The Interior announced $775 million to help cap and clean up orphaned oil and gas wells. The money will help cap wells in 21 states. The Biden-Harris Administration has allocated $4.7 billion to plug orphaned wells, a billion of which has already been distributed. More than 8,200 such wells have been capped since the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law passed in 2022. Orphaned wells leak toxins into communities and are leaking the super greenhouse gas methane. Plugging them will not only improve the health of nearby communities but help fight climate change on a global level.

Vice-President Harris announced plans to ban price-gouging in the food and grocery industries. This would be a first ever federal ban on price gouging and Harris called for clear "rules of the road" on price rises in food, and strong penalties from the FTC for those who break them. This is in line with President Biden's launching of a federal Strike Force on Unfair and Illegal Pricing in March, and Democratic Senator Bob Casey's bill to ban "shrinkflation". In response to this pressure from Democrats on price gouging and after aggressive questions by Senator Casey and Senator Elizabeth Warren, the supermarket giant Kroger proposed dropping prices by a billion dollars

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elliesmainhoe · 9 months

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Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie

I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.

Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.

you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.

speaking of SPOLING-

she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.

but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.

in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"

arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow

(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)

in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩

always her arm candy

every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?

it's an odd feeling.

an unfamiliar feeling.

but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.

so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333

she does the same to you!!

it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:

"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.

Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"

•••••••

it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.

The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.

"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.

"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.

"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.

"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."

"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"

you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.

the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.

"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."

"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."

a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.

"now, which receptionist said that?"

•••••••••

A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.

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estrellami-1 · 1 year

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Falling

(ao3 link)

Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️

It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.

The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.

So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.

He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.

He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.

How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.

Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.

Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.

Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.

When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.

Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.

He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”

Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”

“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.

Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”

“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”

Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”

Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”

For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.

Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.

“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”

Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”

“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”

Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”

Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.

“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.

Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”

Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.

Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.

When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.

Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.

So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.

One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.

Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.

Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”

Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”

“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”

Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”

Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”

“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”

Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”

“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.

Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.

Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.

He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.

So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.

Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”

Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”

Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”

Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”

“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.

“Body of a Greek god?”

“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”

Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.

This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

It happens again a week later.

Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.

There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”

Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”

“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”

“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”

Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”

“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”

“Please.”

“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”

Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.

Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”

Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.

Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”

Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”

Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”

He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”

“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”

“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”

Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”

He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”

“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”

Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”

“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”

Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”

Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”

Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.

Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”

“Sunshine boy?”

Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”

Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”

“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”

“And theater.”

“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”

Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”

Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”

“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”

“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”

“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”

“Stay? After?”

“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”

After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.

Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”

Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”

Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”

Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”

Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”

“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”

Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”

Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”

“It might take a while.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“I might never fully believe it.”

“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.

“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”

Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,�� he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”

“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.

“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.

“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”

Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”

Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”

“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.

“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”

He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”

“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”

Steve hums. “Dionysus.”

“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.

Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.

“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.

“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”

“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”

Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”

Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”

“And if I said make me…”

Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.

He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.

“Just about.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.

“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”

Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”

“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”

“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”

“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”

“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.

He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.

He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #touch starved steve harrington #I don’t think I’ll ever write him another way honestly #stranger things #steddie fic #st fic #Eddie has the patience of a saint #(mostly he’s just in love)#Steve is struggling #honestly idk how else to tag this #starambles

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littlemssam · 7 months

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Mod Updates

As always delete old Mods Files and the localthumbcache, when updating my Mods!

+++

Fixed wrong Group IDs after Patch 1.105.297

I checked all my "Gameplay" Mods for the Group ID Issue, and updated those which needed it.

Be aware, I still need to check my Random Small Mods, Random Bug Fixes, and the "Other Mods" Section.

Anti Fear Training (Pets) Auto Employees | Custom Lot Trait Autonomous Gardening Call a Babysitter Better Familiars Calm Bees Can i come over? Choose Your Helmet Choose Your Roommate Chores Collectibles (Rock Digging) Rework (Slower/Harder) Cookbooks Dine Out 6 Fish Aquarium Eco Dishwasher First Love Foster Family Maid & Gardener Service Give a Gift & More Go for a Walk Go for a walk with more Pets Go for a Walk with Dogs will fill up Needs Holiday Home Standalone Version Improved Practical Spells Improved Practical Spells - New Spell Upgradios Improved Spa Day Tablet Let Friends Age Up Live in Business Live In Services Miscarriage Chance & Abortion - Abortion Part Miscarriage Chance & Abortion - Miscarriage Part More Away Actions More Buyable Venues and new Venue Types More Fun Stuff (Motives, Skills, Life Skills & More Overhaul) More Servings Options - Cakes In Baking Menu Part More Umbrella Variations in World More Visitors | Custom Lot Trait More Woodworks My favorite Raincoat My Little Neighborhood My Pets No Auto Food Grab after Cooking No Restaurant Bill when being Invited Online Gaming with "Headsets" Online Learning System Personal Objects (Computer, Tablets & more) Play your own Tracks as a DJ Preferences | Custom Lot Trait Quick Shower & Quick Bath Roommates Sell via Simbay SimDa Dating App SimsLootBox Skate Everywhere Sleep All Night Small Laundry Overhaul - Doing Laundry On Community Lots Costs Money Slower Writing Social Activities (Visit Friends, Family and more) Spend Weekend With Sul Sul Weather App Tiny Elevators For Pets Transfer Inventory Ultrasound Scan Unlock/Lock Doors for chosen Sims ATM Cards and now with real Credit Function! WEE Working Elevators Everywhere Where are you? Woodworking Table Rework Working Pet Water Bowls

+++

My Site with all possible Download Links: lms-mods.com

Support Questions via Discord only please!

#littlemssam #sims 4 mods #updates

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chiisana666 · 1 month

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strangers in the night

synopsis: a red-haired captain stumbles into the bar late one night, and out of your bed early the next morning.

warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, shanks x barmaid! Reader, no use of y/n or shanks’ name, yes he has one arm, alcohol consumption, dubcon? (they’re drinking but not trashed), unprotected p in v, brief anal fingering, creampie

wc: 2107

a/n: sorry if this is trash, i have had no motivation to write these past few months. credits for dividers here. hope y'all enjoy <3

“And another for you, sir?” The once-vibrant aura of the bar had long since quelled, mirroring the calm ebs of the bay of which the establishment overlooked. It was half past midnight, and you were multi-tasking between closing duties and entertaining the lingering drunken seamen and women.

The man you were currently occupied with had long since been weaned off alcohol, none the wiser to you substituting the vodka for water; he will thank you in the morning, though. He tosses a couple Berry across the bar top, slurs out a ‘thank you’, and stumbles out into the night. Only one more hour and then you’ll be home, free to tear off the corset that had you cinched for the heavens.

You held out hope that the patrons would disperse sooner rather than later, perhaps you could close a little earlier tonight.

But all faith quickly disappeared, fleeting in rhythm with the hoard of footsteps bounding down the board walk and right to the bar’s doorsteps.

It was a small but rowdy crowd, and a vaguely familiar one too. You had seen a few of their faces before, but never so late and never on such a quiet night. You approach the bunch as they seat themselves at the bar, adorning your best customer service smile despite the evident exhaustion tugging at your eyes.

“Evening,” you start, less chirpy than you typically are, but a sultry undertone remains. You had learned quickly during your time as a bar maid; men are so easy and will lay down all their Berry for you, if you know how to talk to them.

A low whistle rings, courtesy of a man with thick, dreaded lock, and the others do little to hide their satisfaction at the sight of you.

“Good evening, indeed,” Another drawls between puffs of the fat cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. His face and arms are littered in scars and his long gray hair is slicked back from the salty sea air.

They waste not a moment requesting several bottles of sake. As you flitter around scrounging up what remains behind the bar, you can feel a pair of dark eyes training on you.

He is tall, and broad, with a black cloak slung around his shoulders, obscuring his left arm. His crimson hair hangs languidly atop his head and does nothing to hide the three scars carved across his face. He is undoubtedly handsome, definitely higher ranking amongst the many faces you have seen come and go during your time here. In the past, a lucky handful of men and women were blessed to share your bed following a late-night shift. But those were still few and far between, and you could feel a familiar itch start to creep into your core.

They moved to whiskey once they had polished off your remaining supply of sake, and by then you had lost track of time, completely engrossed in their company. You didn’t know their names, didn’t really care to, but they made good conversation.

They rotated in tandem, sharing stories of their adventures in an obvious guise to impress you, the pretty barmaid keeping their glasses full. The red-haired man threw a wink or a lip bite your way whenever your eyes connected. You had seen the desperation that months at sea could bring someone, and typically it was repulsive. But there was something so smooth about this one.

“-until our good ‘ole captain here led us straight into the line of fire!” One of the men howled, slapping the red-haired man across the back so hard that he aspirated on his whiskey, dark eyes bulging from their sockets.

“Captain?” you giggle in genuine surprise. Most of the captains you had come across were egotistical, narcissistic, and made their status known from the moment they enter the establishment. A cheeky smirk tugs at his peachy lips, coupled with another thigh clenching wink. Your heart flutters and you return a coy smile, “I never would have guessed.”

Perhaps it was the liquor, or perhaps you were just that funny, but regardless your quip left the group keeling over in laughter. You tuck a stray hair behind your ear, face flushing you’re your own fits of giggles. You turn to grab an unopened bottle of whiskey, the small clock hanging on the wall behind the bar catching your eye. You gasp, noticing it was almost 3AM; you should have closed an hour ago!

“I’m sorry boys,” you turn back, whiskey bottle in hand and offering an apologetic smile, “But you’ll have to take this one for the road.”

The men groaned in protest, but understood when you nodded towards the clock. The captain plopped a fat pouch full of Berry of the bar, watching as his men filtered while you began collecting their glasses.

A throat cleared from behind, startling you, “Mind if I give you a hand, darling?” He was already bringing over the other glasses left on tables by previous patrons.

“Oh, that is very kind of you Captain but-“

“Please allow me, you must be eager to get home.” And who were you to argue? Although you had enjoyed the time spent with his crew, he was absolutely correct. So you both work silently, him wiping tables and sweeping the floor while you wash and dry all the dirty dishes and refresh the bar for the when it opens again later that day, thankful to be off for the next few days.

He insisted on walking you home, tension blooming with every brush of his right arm against your left, every bump of your hip against his. The dim streetlamps perfectly illuminated your figure, and he could not help but stare, entranced by your beauty. In all his time at sea, with all the women he had crossed paths with, none of them measured to you. None made him feel so weak with a simple smile.

An unusual pang of sadness struck him when you turn down the boardwalk, now in a residential area of your small seaside town, his heart growing heavier as you approach your quaint cottage. For some odd reason, he was dreading this goodbye, dreading to already part with the beautiful stranger he happened to stumble upon in the bar that night.

So he could have not been quicker to blurt out a “yes!” when you invited him in for one more drink.

And one drink turned to two, three, four, any hint of reservation dissipating as the alcohol coursed through your veins and warmed your body. You’re overcome by a new-found boldness, and perhaps that is how you end up straddling the captain, arms lazily slung around his shoulders, fingers curling into crimson hair, lips meshing in sloppy, wet kisses, hips dragging across his.

His toned hand paws at your hip, bunching up the fabrics of your skirts so that your panty-clad cunt can grind against the bulge of his cotton trousers. Deep groans spill from his mouth into yours, tongues prodding at one-another in an intimate wrestle.

A hand awkwardly tugs at the laces of your corset; a string of saliva droops from your lips as you pull away from him, making quick work to undo the garment, moaning at the relief, and carelessly tossing it across the small living area. He follows suit, unsnapping the buttons of his white shirt so it can slip off his shoulders, his black cloak having long since been discarded. Your eyes flicker to the stump of his left arm, a small gasp escaping, absentmindedly reaching to run your fingers over the scarred skin.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it sweetheart,” he mumbles between sloppy kisses to your neck, “is just an arm, m’dick still works perfectly well.”

His lips meet yours again, a twinge of yearning persisting with each wet smack. Your hands trace up and down his bare chest, committing to memory the dips and curves of his impressive abs. He tugs at your thin chemise, pulling it over your head, exposing your pretty tits.

A giggle escapes you as his eyes widen at the sight of your breasts but is stifled by a moan when he takes one nipple in his mouth, expertly circling and flicking at your sensitive bud with his soft tongue, spurring you to grind your wet panties harder onto his groin, undoubtedly leaving a damp spot of his trousers.

Your face down, tits squished into your plush bedding and ass in the air as he ferociously pounds into your weeping cunt. His fat balls smack against your swollen clit with each thrust, obscene squelches echoing off the walls.

Your moans muffle into the pillows, his penetrating the air, shameless groans of oh baby… ohhh fuck… s-so fu-uckin’ good…

A loud smack and a piercing sting of your ass cheek sends shockwaves straight to your core, causing your pussy to clench and spasm around his cock. But it is followed by a soothing rub, kneading your round cheek like dough, and spreading it wide to see your pretty puckered hole.

“Eeeek!” You screech, instinctively pulling away when you feel a fat glob of spit land right on your hole; and he chuckles, thumb circling his saliva around, his brutal thrusts never relenting.

“Easy love, relax f’me…” A few gentle prods and he slips his thick thumb in, easing down the knuckle, massaging your walls; your seeing stars and your trembling thighs about give out beneath you, hips bucking in an uncontrollable convulsion.

“Shit baby… don’t run from me,” he groans, popping his thumb out of your tight asshole and pulling your hips still, the mushroom tip of his cock bullying your cervix. You can feel it coming, toes curling, cunt clenching, eyes rolling as he drives you further up to the crest. And if the wavering of his once steady pace is any indication, he is nearing too.

Your crimson-haired lover falls atop you, sweaty chest molding into the curve of your back, arm reaching under and around your neck, large hand caressing your jaw to turn your head. Puffy lips find yours as his hips falter, fucking into you like a mindless wanton manwhore. His hand reaches down to your mound, ferociously rubbing your sensitive bud.

“Ohhh f-fuckk, right th-there!” You moan into his kisses, pushing your hips back into his, sinking his cock impossibly deeper.

“Yeah? That good darlin’? Mmm,” he pants into your ear with hot breath, dragging his tongue across your cheek and sucking on your sweet lips, “So fuckin’ perfect, fuckin’ obsessed with this pussy.”

The coil in your abdomen winds tighter and tighter with each thrust, each rub of his fingers to your clit, each kiss of his lips, before finally snapping, a screech of ecstasy tumbling from your lips. White-hot heat electrifies your body, fisting the sheets tightly as your eyes roll back and cunt spasms around his dick, sucking him in with violent pulses. You lose yourself as waves of euphoria wash across you, trembling wholly, sending your lover over the edge. His thick cum fills your needy pussy in fat spurts, haphazard thrusts plunging it deeper into your womb before mercifully slowing, slowing, stopping.

You lay there for a moment, finding your ground in reality while the man atop you grows heavier, less conscious of his weight bearing down on you. His hand gently strokes your belly, soft kisses pressing to your shoulder and neck while he too chases his breath.

Eventually, he pulls his softened cock from your achy cunt with a hiss, rolling off and plopping onto the bed next to you. You stretch your legs out behind you with a groan, fully relaxing onto your stomach. A soothing hand reaches over to rub your back, and you finally open your eyes to meet his, vision still slightly blurred. He greets you with a content smile, one you return when he leans over to kiss you once more, far more sensually than before.

“Alright, love?”

“Mm,” the only response you can elicit as you’re overcome by drowsiness, but it is enough for him. You curl into him, feeling a final press of his lips to your forehead before succumbing to sleep.

You are not surprised to wake up to an empty bed, although a part of you hoped he would have stayed. Another part hoped it was just a dream, that the strange yearning for the red-haired captain that your heart and body are overcome by is nothing more than a fabrication of your mind.

Until you see it, a small, torn piece of parchment on your nightstand:

I’ll be back someday.

-Shanks

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #shanks smut #red haired shanks #red haired shanks x reader

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ccoconutmall · 3 months

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✐ᝰIF ONLY SHE KNEW

⪼ home

yuta sighed as he cleaned off the counters with the wet rag, toge was busy taking an order, his voice cutting through the soft music playing inside the cafe. they’ve had this job for almost 2 years, and it still feels like the same routine. clean, talk to rude customers here and there, clean some more, then go home. yuta looked around so he could find something to operate his time, seeing as he had already refilled the cups, pastries, and napkins. he even cleaned the tables. it felt like he cleaned this place 6 times to get ready for the rush that was bound to come soon.

but the sound of the bell ringing to indicate a new person walking through made him look up. a large gasp escaping his mouth as he ducked down to hide behind the counter. what were you doing there? out of all the people he had to see today, when he was covered in sweat, dirty from all the cleaning he did today and he even had stains all over him. you hadn’t even noticed him upon walking in, you were busy with your friends. once toge finished giving a customer their order, he looked down to see yuta covering his head with his arms, trying to hide. “what the hell are you doing? get up you dingus.” he groaned when he saw yuta shake his head nervously, but when he looked up, he could see the reason why he was hiding. “seriously..? yuta. just take the order.” yuta shook his head again as toge groaned, not so much that he had to take your order, but the reason he had to take it was because yuta was acting like a scaredy cat. again.

he gently moved him out of the way with his foot, not noticing yuta slowly walk away without trying to give himself away. “hello, welcome to the coffee bean, may i take your order?” there was a friendly smile plastered on his face, so you wouldn’t think he was as annoyed as he once previously was. putting on his best customer service voice. you hummed and looked up at the large tv menu mounted onto the wall before you started.

“can i get a vanilla bean latte with cold foam and a strawberry shortcake?” he nodded as he put in your order, looking towards your friends so they could put in their order. once he was done typing everything into the ipad, he looked back up at you “$12.50.” you nodded and handed him your credit card out of your wallet. he swiped your card and printed out a paper receipt with your order number on it, and with a smile, you were gone and went to find a seat with your friends. “see yuta, that wasn’t so.. bad?”

he looked down at his feet, but yuta was nowhere to be found “oh you gotta be fucking with me.” mumbling to himself, he pulled out his phone while nobody was in line.

toge grumbled as he put his phone into his back pocket. yuta scanning the area before he fully came out and walked behind the counter. “go get the order ready.” toge demanded him pointing to the machine. yuta looked at him like a kicked puppy, but he silently did what he was told, and that was making your order.

“ynnn…” nobara dragged out her words with a huge grin across her face. “is that the cute boy you wanted to see?” she giggled as the two guys looked at you as well, stopping what they were doing before. “oh my god… nobara, i didn’t come here because of a cute guy… i just wanted to hang out since we’ve been so busy with exams recently.” she sucked her teeth quietly and put her hand on her cheek looking over to the counter. she gasped loudly “what about him?!” her whisper yell made you jump a little and look over, there was a new person there. he was tall and skillfully fixing up your dessert, making sure he used the juiciest strawberries. you watched as he cut them up, his hands were delicately fixing up your stuff. yuji laughed at your reaction “oh, it has to be. look at how she’s watching him!” nobara quickly slapping her hand over yuji’s loud mouth. “shut up! we can’t let them know!”

you rolled your eyes at them, but yuji was right, you were watching him use his hands a little intensely, like you could burn holes straight through his palms. would they believe you if you said it was just because you were watching him make your order? probably not. “guys. please, we’re not having another aaron situation!” you yelled in a hushed tone. all three of them deadpanned “bitch, aaron didn’t even know you, that’s different.” megumi groused, your mouth went slack, but he was also right.

“how do you know he knows me?” you raised your eyebrow at him, megumi crossed his arms over his chest before he answered you again. “because yuta, was in our high school, and if he’s here, he probably goes to the same university.” you quickly turned your head to get a peak at his name tag, but before you could say anything, your order number was called out.

“329?” yuta called out, his voice was sort of shaky, but he looked around. “bitch, go!” nobara pushed you out and you went up to the counter. “im 329.” you smiled at him, and he swore his heart started beating out of his chest, he could feel his ears get hot trying to swallow down whatever he was feeling in his stomach before handing you your stuff. “thanks yuta!” you gushed, your fingers gently rubbing against his as you took your order and went back to your table.

he looked at his hands, dark red blush creeping onto his face as he suppressed the urge to go into the back alleyway where the employees normally take their lunch breaks and scream to the top of his lungs. he was over the moon to say the very least. it might’ve been a small gesture, but after knowing of you for 4 years and being shy to actually initiate anything, he thinks he did a damn good job at hiding how he really felt at that moment. a large, goofy grin was spread across his face. he could feel the ghosting touch of your soft, warm hands against his still. he quickly looked over at you as you talked to your friends and looked back at his hand.

“why are you staring at your hand, you freak of nature?” toge quipped, but yuta didn’t even care. he just sighed dreamily and looked at him “she touched me..” toge’s eyes widened, he couldn’t believe that yuta actually was able to talk to you. even if it was just to call out your order. “and! she called me by my name!” toge could practically see hearts floating around yuta, it was like he was in a cartoony haze, and toge just nodded his head. “now, before she leaves, you should ask for her number.

yuta nodded, honestly not hearing a word that left toge’s head, but he tried going along with it. toge watched as you went to the counter again, your friends leaving to wait for you in front of the store. “go! now!” toge pushed yuta to the counter again, which snapped him out of his thoughts.

“hey, uh.. i wanted to give you a tip, the strawberry shortcake was really good.” yuta looked at you as you handed him a $5. he tried swallowing some spit, but his throat was dry. “it’s no problem.. uh,” he couldn’t stop stuttering but he continued on. “they’re my specialty, everyone always asks for them.” you laughed, then smiled at him “i see why!” he took the money from you, but before you could walk away he stopped you. “hey, i know you might not remember me.. but do you think i could.. maybe get your number?”

your eyes widened as you looked at him, he was visibly blushing, you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting to ask you, and even though he was fully prepared for you to reject him, you smiled at him, and he swore he could die, right then and there.

“sure!”

taglist;

@sunflowertingzzzz, @k0z3me, @mollzaj, @mixzimi, @chiefinvestigatoremma, @evieskibidi, @7nknown

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tsublue · 2 years

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10th house ruler in ASTROLOGY and what your career could be☤

This can be used with any type of chart, mostly whole sign.

picture credits: Pinterest

I would absolutely love to know your thoughts in the comments!

10th house ruler in 1st house

Your career possibly has a lot to do with your appearance and personality. You like to be the leader and lead others in your workplace. You might have had a feeling like your career has to or already defines you and it can sometimes even become your personality in some cases.

10th house ruler in 2nd house

You would like to have a job that pays well and is your calling. You can possibly have a passion for food related careers. You have a deep and true need to be financially stable as well as doing something you enjoy. You also can enjoy a comfortable workspace, as in whatever the meaning is to you.

10th house ruler in 3rd house

You could possibly change your workplace or a job many times in your lifetime which is never a bad thing, you don’t fear experimenting and seeing what you like and don’t like. Having a journal with you is not a bad idea. You need a job where you can be creative and express your feelings such as design or writing and etc. Communicational job can also benefit you a lot.

10th house ruler in 4th house

You suit a job that can be done at home or in some cases in an office. You could also be a stay at home mom in some cases. You do not crave to be in so seen at your job and like something peaceful and fulfilling.

10th house ruler in 5th house

You need a career that you truly enjoy, a really great tip is for an example: If you really enjoy skateboarding. You can make it your career as in making videos about it or having a tv show about it. The possibilities are endless and that’s what’s impressive about you. You also do not really fear to be seen by the public.

10th house ruler in 6th house

You like to be in the service. You do not fear 9-5 jobs and stuff that can be seen as “boring” in some people’s eyes. You also can possibly benefit from a job in the outdoors. Your health can also play a big role in your career. You like to help others and this could also lead you into customer service or to become a therapist.

10th house ruler in 7th house

You need coworkers in your workplace. Team work and cooperation is key to your ideal career. This is also a pretty good placement for business owners. You could possibly achieve a high standing career and work as help such as for an example: a wedding planner (helping a couple get married) or a lawyer (helping people with the law).

10th house ruler in 8th house

You would like to do something intimidating as your career. It could be a little off for others, but fun for you. You also can have really good investigation skills so don’t let that go to waste. You also thrive to have or in a private workspace or kept private job. The 8th house revolves around death and spirituality, so there are endless options that can fulfill your ideal career.

10th house ruler in 9th house

You are a wild child. Obviously your career involves travel and movement, so that can indicate a job in a different city, state or a country. Or even your career would be around traveling. You also do an excellent job at teaching and guiding which can fulfill your perfect idea of a career.

10th house ruler in 10th house

Your career will be put into the public eye. You’re really dedicated to it and probably have been doing it your whole life as in for an example being a theatre kid and becoming an actor as your career. You really worry about your reputation a big part of your time. You are possibly the most wealthiest in your workplace and can gain a lot of haters for almost anything you do due to jealousy. Also being a leader is a part of your career.

10th house ruler in 11th house

Your career can involve electronics and even friendships. You could start a business with your friends or do something completely different from your family and friends. Your career can be really creative. Your job can also involve an audience and give you lots of social connections.

10th house ruler in 12th house

You might’ve never really fully put thought into your career or you really can’t fully come up what you truly would like to do as your job. You just like to hang there and probably are the one amongst your surroundings who has no idea what to do when everyone has clear goals. You may walk in your superiors footsteps. Also charity and helping work is not the worst idea and could possibly fulfill you alongside spiritual themed career.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I’ve really been in a slump, but it feels good to be back and writing the new posts.

I truly hope you enjoy this post and that you beyond if you made it to the end.

I would love to know what your 10th house ruler is in!

Always love, Tsunami

!! Please do not:

repost, re-word, copy, steal, etc my posts. If you want to use some aspects of them, then please ask for permission first and always give credits. Thank you.

#astrology #10thhouseruler

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everytechever · 2 years

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Home Credit Qwarta made Lazada shopping easier

Home Credit’s Qwarta clients can top up their Lazada wallets using Qwarta credits making online shopping and checking out even easier! #HomeCredit #Lazada #Qwarta #HomeCreditQwarta #finance #loan #lifestyle #everytechever

In the past years, there has been a dramatic shift in consumers’ shopping behaviors. From trying on clothes in actual boutiques and pushing carts along grocery aisles, Filipino consumers are now taking most of their shopping online — doing virtual try-ons, filling up their digital carts, and checking out those purchases through swipes and clicks. And this trend is not going anywhere as more and…

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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Once in awhile, you can get one over on The Man. Finally, after all these years of toiling under his rule, doing his dirty work, begging for his praise, he has well and truly fucked up. And, it turns out, your entire life has been building up to the moment that you can milk him for all he's worth.

Have you ever seen a Dodge Caliber? They're getting sort of uncommon now, but when they were new, they were pretty hateful cars. Cheap, buzzy, surprisingly uneconomical, steering that felt like telling a funeral home operator how to sign a birthday card over the phone by long distance. And they fell apart all the time. Most cars get repaired, but these things got gleefully shovelled into the junkyard at the first chance the owners got.

Not all of them, though. This is a story about one very special Dodge Caliber. You see, my aunt needed a car. And my aunt is very nervous about owning a car. The skills of shitbox repair never made it into her genes, you see, possibly because she is not related to me by blood. So, in order to get that car, she went to the Dodge dealership, and she asked them: can you do a lifetime warranty, unlimited mileage, no questions asked, cover everything? And they said: for you, ma'am, we absolutely can charge you an obscene, eye-watering amount of money.

Once I found out about this, I was mad. And then I figured it out. You see, what my aunt did have was being insanely cheap. That's why she was a part of my degenerate family. She still is, even though my Uncle Larry exploded that one night at Arecibo. Unlimited mileage. There has never been a sweeter phrase uttered in the English language.

Now, whenever anyone we know needs to go for a long trip, we tell them: take the Caliber. Rack those miles up. Punish those stupid motherfuckers for writing such a terrible, open-ended contract. My aunt runs a taxi service consisting entirely of this vehicle, a fleet of drivers constantly rotating in and out, the thing rolling virtually 24/7. I love driving this car, because every single mile that ticks up on the odometer is more salty tears from the low-wattage pig who thought he was a big-time wheeler and dealer down at Old Time Country Dodge.

To their credit, they figured out the enormous error that they had made fairly quickly. When Aunt Hilda rolled in the thing, smoking and wheezing, for its sixth transmission replacement at eight-hundred-and-fifty-thousand kilometers, they offered to buy it from her and give her a brand new luxury SUV, just for being such a great customer. She laughed, and told them to get started overhauling the Caliber, and don't forget to take a look at the squeaking sound it started making in the back.

When things got real bad during the recession, they tried to go bankrupt, thinking that might get them out from having to maintain this economy car until the sun burns out. Ha! Death won't save you, my friend. My attorney Max picked that one up pro bono, despite hating warranty law, just for the pleasure of watching their attorney read the purchase contract. Her eyes got so big that they stuck that way. The paramedics had to use the jaws of life on her eyelids so she could blink again.

If you see me in the Caliber, make sure to honk. I probably won't stop to say hi, because we gotta keep this odometer rollin'. Rest assured, however, that I will honk back, maybe ten or fifteen times. Really get my money's worth out of that horn.

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freesia-writes · 5 months

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Pets4Vets: Jesse (1/4)

Chapter 1 of 4 - Word Count: 3.2k - Jesse x Fem Reader Master List

“Thanks for dinner,” she said quietly, shifting her eyes from her plate to his and crossing one arm across herself to rub the outside of the other.

“Yeah baby,” Jesse purred with a cocky grin. “I mean, I got the dinner but you brought the dessert.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a treat,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows. “Want to take the party back to your place?”

“Oh, um. I’ve got to work early, so I think that’s all I’ve got time for now. But thanks again,” she offered, trying to mask the cringe on her face with a disingenuous smile.

“Alright, your loss… heheh…”

“Yeah…”

They made their way to the door of the restaurant, Jesse holding it open for her as she shuffled awkwardly past him. She hesitated on the sidewalk, turning back to face him with that same feeble grin. Another thanks for dinner. An offer to walk her home. Declined. A question about another date. After a long, uneasy pause, that was also declined.

Jesse kept up his best face, chest puffed and confidence set firmly in place, until she disappeared around the corner, then he slumped, turning to begin his own walk home. A glance at the chrono reminded him that he wasn’t allowed back in the apartment he shared with Kix for another hour and a half… The cramped flat they rented together didn’t allow for much privacy, and his roommate had been excited to take advantage of the alone time with his partner from Right to Love, a matchmaking service for clones wanting to live as freely as they were able since the war had ended and they were released from service.

The endless flashing lights of the Coruscant streets were oppressively bright as he plodded aimlessly, unsure of where to go. A deep sense of resentment was growing within, and he didn’t realize he was muttering under his breath until a few strange looks from passersby clued him in. Many of his brothers had found immediate success with Right to Love, now experiencing the joys of a relationship in ways they’d never thought possible when they’d been nothing more than property their entire lives. And yet here he was, having tried to connect with five different people now, each one entirely put off by the end of the first date. His assigned case manager at Right to Love had assured him that matches weren’t always perfect the first time around, and sometimes the process took a little longer to ensure the ideal fit.

Doubt was growing in the pit of his stomach as he walked. What was it about him that was getting in the way? He was throwing himself wholeheartedly into this pursuit, and yet each attempt seemed to be less encouraging than the last. The resentment began to coil in his chest, heating up into anger, and he leaned into it. Anger was familiar. Anger, he could deal with. It made him feel powerful and in control, pushing aside any tendrils of fear or sadness that lay at its core. A sign up his head caught his eye, and he turned abruptly to barge through the door.

Music thumped inside, the small crowd on the dance floor moving as one to the beat, and he jostled his way around the edge to find a seat at the bar. He waited for a while, watching the bartender help customer after customer, including those that had arrived after him. When the man began polishing some glasses, Jesse finally called out, eyebrows furrowed.

“Can I get some service here?”

The bartender slowly finished wiping his glass, sidling down to the end and resting his palms on the counter with no attempt to hide the disdain on his face.

“Did your giant face tattoo block you from seeing the sign on the door?” he drawled. “No clones. Go back to your own district.”

“You’re living in the past,” Jesse growled, the snake in his chest twisting and hissing. “Credits are credits. What does it matter who they come from?”

“Just get out,” exhorted a Zabrak on the stool beside him who’d had his back firmly turned to him from the start. “Before we make you.”

He’d had enough.

“Go ahead and try,” he snarled, smacking a fist on the counter and rising to his feet. The Zabrak was in his face immediately, flanked by a nat-born and a Weequay who looked far too excited to throw hands.

“Know your place,” the nat-born taunted, leaping forward to throw a swing, which Jesse dodged and countered with one of his own, sinking a fist into the man’s stomach and earning a satisfying grunt of pain. The brawl exploded, quickly changing the three-on-one situation into an entire mob set on teaching the clone a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. The ARC trooper held his own, ducking and swinging, using leverage to toss one body into another, but the blows were coming from every direction. A foot to the back of his knee knocked him off balance, right into someone else’s fist.

The next thing he knew, he was unceremoniously thrown onto the sidewalk among a litany of curses and insults, and he scrambled to his feet, body throbbing with numerous bruises from the punches and kicks that had landed as he’d tried to hold them all off. His nose was bleeding, and he wiped it on his sleeve before pinching it hard, stalking toward his building in a tornado of rage.

He sat outside on the stoop for the remaining hour, ruminating on the sheer injustice of it all. But eventually, the hot indignation quieted, and in the stillness, he fought to stuff down the disappointment that whispered judgment and failure in its place.

* * *

“Come on, give it a try.” Kix straightened his scrubs as Jesse slouched against his bedroom doorway. “It’ll be a different dynamic. Might be helpful.”

“I don’t need help,” Jesse scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“I know,” Kix affirmed quickly, “But the food carts in the square are delicious. So bring your next date and just come along for that.” He smoothed a hand over his neatly-cut hair and tilted his head at his mirror, checking that the first few letters of his head tattoo were hidden as much as possible by his dark locks. The medical clinic he worked at had some fairly strict rules around personal appearance, and considering how difficult it was to find clone-friendly jobs, no matter how qualified they were, he wasn’t about to risk losing his placement over something as trivial as that.

“Fine,” Jesse huffed. “I’m doing this for the ronto wraps, you know.”

Kix grinned, clapping him on the back and squeezing his shoulder as he headed for the front door. “You’ve been doing too much upper-body, vod. Have a leg day.”

“Hah. Go clean some crusty old geezers, di’kut.”

“Oh please. I’m saving lives out there,” Kix threw over his shoulder as the door closed behind him. Jesse sighed. That did seem like a much better purpose than his own job as a personal trainer at a local gym, where most of his clients were flaky hopefuls who wanted to get into shape without putting in the time and work that it required. It paid well enough, though, and gave him an outlet for a sense of purpose as well as a place to exercise. If he were honest, he’d hoped he’d meet someone there, figuring they’d be more aligned with his interests and lifestyle, but after months upon months of dismal prospects, he’d gone ahead and applied at Right to Love. He sighed, turning to rummage in the cooling chamber until it was time for work.

* * *

Days of work and leisure blended together, and Jesse found himself spending more time at the gym, adding cardio sessions on top of his bodybuilding regimen as a way to blow off steam. He finally got another match from Right to Love and agreed to go on the double date with Kix and his partner, laboring a disproportionate amount of time over what to wear. He didn’t want to admit it, but with each date he felt increasingly desperate. Desperate to prove that there wasn’t something wrong with him. Desperate to feel like he had access to the whole variety of options for a “normal” life. Desperate to enjoy the care, intimacy, and connection that some of his brothers had found.

He straightened the long-sleeved henley shirt and rolled up the sleeves a little. Ladies loved the forearms, right? Slipping a wallet into his back pocket, he checked his reflection one last time and ventured into the living room where Kix was waiting for him.

“Here goes nothing,” he grumbled.

“That’s the spirit,” Kix nodded sagely, a fond smirk on his face.

The square had a weekly event where all the food carts in the vicinity would gather to offer their delectable delicacies, and there really was something for everyone, making it a very popular attraction. Jesse swaggered beside his date, Kix and his partner bringing up the rear, and shared stories of valor and bravery as she nodded and made small sounds of agreement here and there. The four of them had shared some snacks from a variety of vendors and were now walking it off along the city streets.

Coming to a somewhat scenic overlook of a steep dropoff with many Coruscant levels stretching down below, the four of them sat on a couple of benches. Kix stretched his arm across his partner’s shoulders, and they nestled into his side with an affectionate gaze. Jesse shifted awkwardly beside his date, a beautiful redhead that made his mouth go dry when he tried to talk. Yet he’d pushed past it with bravado and confidence, he felt simultaneously certain and completely unsure of her interest. Kix was murmuring in his date’s ear, bringing a demure smile to their face, and Jesse turned to look at the redhead beside him.

“So… You mentioned some adventures in the jungle… Did I tell you about our campaign on Felucia?” he asked, launching into the story before she was able to respond. He wove an exhilarating tale of their encounter with both Separatist forces and the Commerce Guild, finishing with a flourish and grinning proudly.

“Sounds like the war was wild,” she offered.

“You’re karking right it was,” he laughed, attempting to slip his arm around her shoulder as well, but she stood up quickly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I… I’m gonna go.”

Jesse watched her leave, speechless, then was flooded with embarrassment as he felt the eyes of Kix and his partner on his back. He slowly turned to face them, and the empathetic looks on their faces added insult to the injury.

“See you at home,” he muttered to his brother, nodding to Kix’s partner and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he trudged back to their apartment. Kix watched him for a long time, nodding at the murmured condolences from his partner, who was incredibly kind and gentle, both admiring and strong in their own right, and he was regularly blown away at the fact that he’d been able to find them. Their compassion only served to deepen his own hope that his brother could find whatever it was he was looking for.

* * *

The next morning, a much-needed day off of work for both of them, Jesse was sprawled on the couch with a lazy hand resting on the steaming mug of caf on the nearby side table. Kix was scrambling some eggs in the kitchen, casting the occasional glance over the counter at his brother’s dejected slump. He was torn; Jesse was notoriously stubborn, but Kix also knew him better than most anyone else, and if he kept continuing in the same pattern, he would likely keep getting the same result. He flipped the eggs one more time and turned off the burner, scattering some shredded cheese over the top of them and putting a lid over the pan to melt it all together.

“You… uh… seemed different last night,” he ventured, picking up his own caf, now mostly cold, and sitting in the armchair across from the downcast clone.

“Mmm,” was the only response.

“Does it always go that way?”

“Mmm.”

“What’s… What’s with the swagger stuff?” Kix asked, abandoning the subtlety. Jesse cast a hard look at him, but he caught the quickly-concealed flicker of hurt beneath the tattooed face.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t really seem like you. Did you answer the questionnaire honestly?”

“Yes!” Jesse said defensively, furrowing his brow.

“Well… then that might be why the dates aren’t going so well, if they’re expecting you to act… normal. You’re smart and pretty down-to-earth most of the time. Last night it felt more like you were trying to prove yourself somehow.”

His words stung, and Jesse balked at the feeling of being perceived so accurately. But a sense of resignation had settled in again, and he shrugged, attempting a nonchalant facade.

“I’m just gonna get a pet. That’ll have to lo–... to put up with me, right?”

“Sure,” Kix sighed. “I’ve heard good things about P4V.”

“Look, di’kut, I know I can’t even get a second date, let alone some bedroom action, but I don’t think I have the credits for a sex worker… At least not a good one.”

“Classy as always,” Kix rolled his eyes. “It’s not a brothel, it’s called Pets 4 Vets. They have a variety of service animals to help with the difficult aspects of adjusting to civilian life.”

“I want a good-sized Massiff, not some fluffy little Loth-rat to lick me when I have ‘big feelings’,” Jesse snorted.

“Kriff, you are thick sometimes.”

“Just these thighs.”

“Right. Just try it.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

You stroked a hand down the bogling's back, running fingers along the soft fur of its fluffy tail. It leaned into your touch with a contented noise, and you closed the cage behind it, watching it begin delicately eating its food before moving to the next kennel. You’d been working at Pets 4 Vets for a while now, and you felt thoroughly at home amid a great group of coworkers and an even better assortment of animals from every corner of the galaxy. They were all either in the process or finished with their training to be emotional support animals for the veterans who had served the Republic so well. You’d been a little unsure around the clones at first, not having spent any time with them before this, but they’d grown on you quite a bit and you’d been amazed at the complexity and individuality of each one. You’d also developed a knack for pairing them with animals, although it still took a few tries at times.

“Good morning, tookas,” you said warmly as you slid the food bowl into the next crate, watching the two loth-cats eye it lazily from where they were curled around each other in the corner. They were a bonded pair, and last summer they had surprised the entire staff with a full litter of the most adorable babies you’d ever seen, who had since grown and been placed into loving homes. None of you had been too eager to see the parents leave, however, and it just so happened that none of the troopers so far had been the ideal match for them. The two of them roamed the clinic during the day, curling up near computer terminals or gracing guests in the lobby with their tails high in the air. At night, all the animals were tucked into their cozy kennels until morning, when they’d be fed and let out into their various programs for the day. Some had hours of training, others enjoyed free time inside or out, and some simply spent as much time as possible shadowing the clinic staff.

“I wish I got breakfast in bed,” you murmured as you closed their door, watching the loth-cats yawn and nuzzle one another. You felt a deep sense of longing in your chest, and moved to the next cage to try to keep your mind from continuing on its current trajectory. But it was a lost cause. “Wish I had someone to wake up next to as well,” you continued. The dating scene hadn’t been kind to you, and if you were honest, you’d pretty much given up. Your friends urged you to keep the dream alive, to go on double dates with them and to meet the various eligible bachelors they knew, but nothing felt like a good fit. You assumed the problem was with you. And that was alright. You were happy enough on your own…you said. The clinic staff was a tightly-knit group, for the most part, and you authentically loved the animals. You felt fulfilled by the unconditional love you shared with each one, and you were so proud at the growth you got to witness as they went through training.

The horde was fed, each one was released to its daily duty, and you began to clean all of the kennels, wondering if you should take your friend up on her offer to check out 79s. It felt completely out of your comfort zone, however. Not because of the clones, but you just generally weren’t a fan of loud, raucous environments, and you weren’t much of a drinker… So it didn’t seem like a very attractive prospect. As much as you were mocked for it, you weren’t really keen on one night stands, nor were you good at “keeping it casual”. You wanted a relationship with depth and longevity. Sometimes you wondered if the taunts about you were correct, that you had in fact watched too many cheesy holofilms and now had an unrealistic view of romance.

Whatever.

A few hours of cleaning were followed by an hour or so at your computer, reviewing and categorizing the new applications. You didn’t realize you’d been completely hunched the entire time, your back rounded as you tapped away at the keys, and would have remained blissfully unaware if the receptionist hadn’t commented on it as soon as she popped in.

“Geez, you look like a shrimp,” she laughed, dropping a data card on your desk.

“You’re a bit of a cod yourself,” you teased, and she giggled, swatting your arm. “What’s this?”

“A new app. I was gonna bring him back here in person but he said he had lots of ‘big important stuff’ to do.” She rolled her eyes. “Quite the cocky one. He didn’t want to go through the interview process because he ‘knew what he wanted and it was a big dog’.” A chuckle followed the words as they both nodded. They were familiar with the type.

“Did you tell him he has to do an interview if he wants anything at all?”

“Yup. Said you’d contact him.”

“Lucky me.”

“Thought you might like a challenge. It’s been quiet for you lately,” she grinned.

“Considerate as always,” you smiled right back.

“Have some fun with him. He could use someone taking him down a peg or two. Although I thought I could see the remnant of a black eye, so maybe someone already tried. He’s a big boy, too.” A suggestive wink.

“Oh boy. Can’t wait.”

Next Chapter

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 10 days

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this is a slight detour from your usual subject matter but i'm very curious about your experience renting a high-quality camera lens? how did you go about doing that and have you been pleased with how it worked out? (the changing of hands i mean, it's clear you're happy with the lens!)

i didn't know this was a Thing before and now i'm wondering if i might be able to try that myself!

Oh yeah, it's absolutely the best thing if you can't afford fancy lenses / want to try out new gear / just need something for a special occasion.

There are places you can rent online that will ship you gear, and depending on where you live you can often also rent from local camera stores. I've done both!

Right now my main practice is renting lenses from LensRentals, which is an online company that ships out of Tennessee. They've got pretty reasonable rental prices, and they don't charge a deposit - but you do sign a thing saying if you damage or lose it, they can charge you. You can also pay for insurance on the rentals against damage or loss which would mitigate a lot of that cost if something went wrong. I've heard a range of opinions about them, but I've pretty much always had a good experience with them and gotten stuff on time that worked correctly, and their customer service has been really responsive for me when we had some snafus with shipping stuff back lately. One thing they do that I really like is their system is set up with an option to ship directly to FedEx stores for you to pick up, which means I don't have to worry about a package containing pricey gear getting stolen or rained on.

LensRentals also is willing to let you buy their rental gear, which is what I'm hoping to do before I send the really nice huge telephoto lens I've been using back tomorrow. They'll take some of the price of your rental off the purchase cost - it isn't a ton, but it generally covers sales tax and maybe a little more. I like it as a way to purchase used gear because I can see the condition before I commit, and I've had it in my hands and gotten to use it a bunch. That's how I bought my first real digital camera like a decade ago, and where I got my current camera and starter lenses.

If you've got a local rental store, I absolutely encourage going through them! I've done that when traveling - there have been some times I wanted a specific piece of gear to test on a habitat - and it's worked out really well. Plus, supporting local businesses is always the right choice. They'll often all operate a little differently, but it's nice to know people IRL who can help you decide what gear to use or just nerd out with you. Sometimes local places will ask for some type of deposit to make sure you bring the gear back, and TBH if that's within your budget it's perfectly reasonable.

Unfortunately, the local rental place in my area charges a deposit to your credit card for the entire worth your rental until you bring it home, and my credit limit isn't high enough that I can float a hold for that (e.g. upwards of four thousand dollars for the two lenses I'm using lately) and still be able to, y'know, use my card, so I go with online rentals. It drives me up a wall! I'd really like to support local businesses and minimize shipping costs / carbon emissions.

If you think you'd like to rent some gear to try out, I recommend it! Just make sure you know what's compatible with your camera, you've got a safe way to transport and store the rental when you're not using it, and that you know the terms up front. It's been such a fun way to play around and see what I like and what works well for me.

#camera rentals #zoo photography #not animals per se

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kimsohn · 2 years

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in each other's arms

pairing . roommates! mingi x gn reader about . 3k+ words, fluff warnings . i have an unhealthy obsession with writing when i’m sleep-deprived take this as you will. i also don’t write long fics so i’m super sorry in advance. reader has a thing for mingi’s arms (who doesn’t), there is cursing involved, slight mentions of alcohol, reader calls mingi annoying and stupid a couple of times but it’s endearingly, this is not proofread yolo

synopsis . you don’t understand why your roommate is suddenly afraid of the dark, but maybe offering him space to sleep next to you wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had. note . wrote this for a secret santa fic and decided to post here as well! i don't really stan ateez but writing this has definitely made me some sort of mingi stan 😭 also this was inspired by this episode of curious george, not crucial to understand the fic but definitely helpful

You’re not quite sure how your roommate grew so accustomed to watching Curious George episodes every night, but it’s become a, to put simply, very distracting routine.

Returning home from work to find Mingi, part-time barista and your personal full-time teddy bear, watching a TV show wasn’t uncommon. Heck, customer service jobs were so horrible that even you would settle in front of the screen for the remainder of the day. You’d often walk in on a new Netflix series and even indulge in them with him, humming soundtracks while you both made dinner together or fall asleep cuddling to the end credits of each episode.

It was all fine until he found a Curious George playlist on YouTube with all 15 seasons, and being a nonsensically endearing child at heart, he’d made it his personal mission to cycle through all of them. Initially, it was nostalgic for you too, but after one too many times of seeing the stupid monkey and his yellow-adorned caretaker, you’d opt to crash in your banana-less bed after dinner instead.

Nights often end like this one, with you drifting into slumber and the glaring light of the TV screen peeking into your room underneath the door. Neither of you was that bothered by the change in routine anyway; you got more sleep and he got his screen time. Being roommates, understanding each other was key in your relationship, and although things were slightly different, the silent compromise was enough to keep the peace between you.

Or at least, it was enough until you hear three knocks on your bedroom door and a slight knob turn.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

The whisper takes a while to register in your half-asleep state, and at the realization of his scared tone, you force yourself to shift into a sitting position before responding.

“Mingi? What’s wrong?”

He tiptoes into the room, turning on the light. The bright contrast from your previously dark room makes your eyes close instinctively, your pupils adjusting to Mingi’s blurry figure.

“Promise you won’t think I’m stupid?” he asks, an attentive gaze in his eyes.

The comment makes you laugh as you patted your bed, beckoning him onto the soft surface.

“You’ve been stupid to me, dumbass. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He shuffles on the pillows, leaning in closer to whisper to you despite no one else being in the house.

“I think there are monsters in my room.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You watched a Curious George episode about him seeing shadow monsters in his room, and now you think they’re in your room too?”

You can see the pout on his face intensify as he turns all the lights on while walking to his room. You knew the episode he was talking about, the one where the monkey started envisioning oddly shaped shadows as monsters only to later learn they were just figments of his imagination, but you didn’t think it would affect your roommate that badly.

“No! Don’t turn on the light,” he exclaims as you screw open his doorknob, despite the rest of the house being engulfed in light because of his phobia.

“Why not?” you question, watching the door creak open and stepping into the room, pulling him along with you so he won’t run away.

“Look,” he points at an oddly shaped lump, “you can’t tell me that isn’t some evil slug out to get me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just—”

“And over there,” he beckons to a tall, conical structure, “that is literally an evil Christmas tree. I’m 100% sure we’re about to die.”

You sigh as you flick on the lights, your suspicions being confirmed.

“Did you even think to turn on the light? These so-called ‘monsters’ are just your pile of dirty laundry that I’ve been begging you to wash and your coat rack that I still can’t comprehend being in this room and not the doorway.”

“You’re right but,” he moves to turn off the light again, “why do they look so different in the dark? They’re shapeshifting! I’m not insane Y/N, just trust me.”

At this point, you’re too mentally and physically exhausted to even care about his antics. In some other period of time, you would’ve indulged his nightmares, but right now it’s far past your bedtime and the only thing on your mind is a long, relaxing sleep.

“Fine. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don’t have stupid coat racks or dirty laundry in my room for you to be scared of, and we can turn on the little night light I still have from third grade. Got it?”

You pretend not to notice the silent cheer he lets out behind your back as you make the trek back to your part of the building, killing the lights as you go. Mingi keeps an arm on your shoulder, and you notice he keeps his gaze on the wall beside him to avoid any potential shapeshifters in the living room.

After a thorough inspection of your room, Mingi deduces that there are indeed no shadow monsters. By then you’re already half asleep, curling into the right side so his hunk of a body has room.

“You sure this is okay?” he questions, stretching his arms and yawning.

Your tired gaze glazes over the ripples of his lean muscles illuminated by your snowman night light before answering with a nod, and you grumble when he flops on the bed and steals too much of your blanket.

“C’mere,” he voices, making grabby hands, “I miss cuddling with you.”

You make the meanest face possible and flip over to the other side, turning away from his seemingly shocked face.

“Wake me up for cuddles when you stop acting like a baby and grow a pair.”

And as you drift into slumber, despite your warnings you still feel the soft weight of his arm curl around your torso, sending you into the sweetest dreams full of fantastical butterflies.

The next night, Mingi is knocking at your door again, albeit a couple of hours earlier than yesterday. He doesn’t even have to speak before you’re glaring at him, hands crossed in annoyance.

“I’m not letting you sleep here again. You stole too much of my blanket last time.”

You don’t mention to him that you had the best sleep of your life.

“That’s why I brought a blanket!” he exclaims, holding up his polka-dot fuzzy bedspread, “I also brought some popcorn so we can watch a movie on your shitty computer.”

Screw him for being thoughtful, and screw him for wearing the same brand of tank top that he did yesterday. Were his muscles always this prominent, or was it your nightlight making you see things?

“Shitty computer?” you repeat, threatening to close the door in his face.

“No! No… I think you misheard. I love your classic, old computer.”

His grin intensifies as you let him in, snapping the nightlight on and setting up the movie on your computer that is indeed shitty. The overheating of the device makes you turn away from his knowing smirk, and as the starting scenes flash across the blue light screen, you reach for the popcorn, only for him to move it out of your reach.

“Can we cuddle now at least? I meant it when I said I missed it.”

You don’t say anything in response, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, but your hand does reach over to grab a kernel, giving him the green light to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You know that if you refused, he would bring up the embarrassing fact of how you woke up curled into his arm, and you weren’t really in the mood to fight a blush on your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re still scared of the dark when Curious George clearly overcomes his fear at the end of the episode.”

“He does?”

You turn to look at him, confused.

“Did you not finish the episode?”

“I haven’t touched the show since the beginning of that episode. I’m scarred.”

You still believe that this is some sort of sick prank Mingi has been playing on you because there’s no way a 23-year-old man would be this frightened over a figment of his imagination. However, it means you don’t have to bear the stupid ape’s squeaky voice as you fall asleep, so you take the win.

“You know you can’t keep sleeping in my room like this. Why don’t you just clear your room so you won’t be afraid anymore?”

“I like the organized chaos.”

“Oh yeah? The organized chaos that shapeshifts into your worst nightmares?”

“So they do shapeshift! See Y/N, I’m not crazy.”

He is crazy, but the way his arm feels around your shoulder is enough to make you stay quiet as you shovel popcorn into your mouth and watch the movie blur before your eyes.

You awake to find yourself in the same position, and although your head is awkwardly and painfully resting in the crook of Mingi’s shoulder, you find that you once again have garnered a good night’s sleep.

Although you can only see the side of his face, his frame is so beautiful that you can’t help but melt into a puddle of nothingness. The sunlight peeking in from the gaps of your blinds illuminates his face in rays so perfectly, and you have the urge to brush his orange-stained hair behind his ears to gain a better view.

Mingi has always been breathtakingly beautiful. You met him a couple of years ago in college, bonding over the uncertainty of where your future would take you. Ending up together in this small yet comfortable apartment together was something you hadn’t expected, but something you’re learning not to take for granted. His silly quirks and endearing behavior are like a magnet, and it’s hard to not have feelings for someone whom you’re so domestic with every day, but you both are busy with your own lives and have never had time to properly explore those feelings.

Falling asleep in each other’s arms is the closest form of intimacy you’ve shared with him, and you’ve learned to cherish and be grateful for it.

Knowing that both of you are bound to end up with a crick in your necks if you stay in this position any longer, you slowly shake him awake, pushing away your thoughts as you feel him stir underneath your palm.

“Mingi, wake up. You’re going to kill me with your complaints if you wake up with sore limbs.”

“I like sleeping in your arms,” he grumbles, and it’s a little too obvious how your heart constrains at the words.

“I know, but I promise you’d feel much better if you slept properly on the bed. I’ll reward you with an amazing breakfast, I promise.”

The mention of food has him relaxing in your arms, and you move so that he’s sleeping normally against the pillow. The thoughts of waking up next to him and cooking breakfast for him are all very normal, but they’re so domestic that it has your early-morning mind go haywire at the implications.

You tell your brain to shut up and get off the bed to make breakfast before Mingi cusses you out.

Mingi appears in your bed the next day, the day after that, and many more days after that. At this point, your room has now become a shared room, and Mingi has become a prominent figure in your sheets. Hell, your pillows have even started to smell like him, and you don’t know whether you find it annoying or endearing.

A smaller part of your brain, one that you choose to push aside, fears that you’ve grown too attached to this routine. Sure, before Mingi’s monkey infatuation you’ve woken up next to each other on an occasional morning, arms sore from accommodating each other on the sofa, but you’ve never continuously spent nights with him in the same space regularly like this. Now that the routine has become more frequent, the atmosphere has gone from friendly to something else, and you don’t particularly know if you want to uncover it yet.

Besides, sleeping in the same bed is normal for roommates… right?

“Y/N, sleeping in the same bed with an attractive bachelor that just so happens to be your roommate is definitely not normal.”

Okay, so San agrees to disagree.

“I’m being serious,” he says, shaking you by the shoulder, “you’re going to end up catching feelings, and it’ll either end up with you heartbroken and apartment-less or you getting a new boyfriend. There is a fifty-fifty chance. Don’t risk it.”

You turn to look at Mingi across the room, dressed up in a silk shirt and slacks. His hair is styled in that annoying not-so-styled-but-still-styled manner, and it makes you want to run your fingers through it. Badly. Seeing him sleeveless in the mornings is bad enough, but seeing him cleaned up at a mutual friend’s birthday party makes you want to go feral.

“You should’ve given me that warning before he started sleeping next to me,” you mumble under your breath, but unfortunately San is perceptive, and nothing escapes his ears.

“Great. I can’t believe you already have feelings for him. You’re done for at this point. What is he even so scared of anyway that has him crying in your arms every night?”

You explain the details with a frown on your face, not wanting to mull over any possible rejection you might get from Mingi.

“Oh,” San starts.

“Oh?”

“That changes everything.”

You stare at San with a perplexed gaze, prompting him to elaborate.

“Look, Mingi is stupid, but do you really think he’s that stupid? Come on Y/N, even if he was scared of the dark, he would’ve gotten over it in three days.”

You hit him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t play with me San,” you berate, watching him clutch the area you just hit, “why else would he be sleeping in my room if he wasn’t scared?”

“The same reason you started having feelings for him! Because you both enjoy waking up next to each other and being together. He likes you Y/N.”

The words drift around in your brain, and you process them for a couple of seconds before glaring at San.

“If he liked me, he would’ve told me.”

“That’s what you think. But do you really know him that well if you couldn’t even figure out the reason he’s been sleeping next to you? What if he’s just scared to tell you?”

San has a point, but you don’t want to admit it. As you watch Mingi beckon you over to try some food on the counter and likely force you to shovel down a disgusting combination of food, you and San share a mutual glance to stop talking about the topic.

However, as you walk over, you can’t help your brain from overanalyzing everything that shouldn’t be. The way he smiles too brightly at you, the way he holds your arm gently as he tugs you over, and the way he keeps you hydrated throughout the night make your head spin. Everything normal suddenly seemed different, and you didn’t know if the change was welcome or not.

Later that night, when you and Mingi return exhausted to your apartment, your brain feels more tired than ever. You’ve never been much of a thinker, but currently, your head feels worse than a hangover, and you don’t want to mull over anything drastic. Keeping your distance from the guy who supposedly has feelings for you back is harder than it seems, but you’re not in the mood to confront him right now.

However, Mingi has other plans. He sits you by the bed, helping you take off your jacket and accessories and untying your shoes. You realize that he’s picked up on your exhaustion, and you feel extremely guilty for wanting to push him away mere seconds ago. He is so charming at this very moment, and you feel nothing but enamored for the love you’ve received from him tonight and all the time you’ve spent together.

The words are flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.

“Do you like me?”

He stops mid-shoelace, looking up at you. You realize how awkward and uncomfortable of a position this is for him, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You feel like you’re being shoved underwater. The world hazes before your eyes, and the words are muffled as they enter your ears.

“What?”

He laughs, and the loss of your senses makes you realize how beautiful of a sound it really is.

“You’ve always called me stupid, but I think you’re the one that’s actually stupid here. I’ve liked you for a while now, silly. Why do you think I help you make dinner when I hate cooking?”

‘Oh’ is the only word floating in your head right now.

“So, the Curious George thing was fake?”

“Kind of. I was a little scared the first night, not going to lie, but after finding out how much I missed sleeping next to you, I figured I’d use it to my advantage. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out or kick me out sooner.”

He sees you bury your head in your hands, too shocked to internalize anything right now.

“Hey,” he says, holding your shoulder, “you don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s probably a lot to take in, and I know you’re probably exhausted after that party. Just sleep on it, okay? We can talk later.”

He finishes untying your laces and gets up to leave, but you pull on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “I like it when you’re here.”

He smiles so gently, so so gently that you want to stare at him forever.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” he whispers back, despite no one else being in the house, “do you want me to continue sleeping next to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out after a pause.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

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