Tumgik
#SIX PEOPLE sent this to me today. SIX.
rileyclaw · 1 year
Video
the people tm wanted me to make this
15K notes · View notes
i-am-megalodonna · 11 months
Text
I am so hopped up on anger i cannot sleep woo
2 notes · View notes
hobisexually · 1 day
Text
long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on
#on holiday I was like oHHHHH this is what living in the moment is! What listening to your body is! what not worrying about how you look is#but doing what makes you happy#and then …… I came home and got sent the pictures#+ my friend being. unintentionally fatphobic as fuck#while hurtful as fuck too#and it’s all just been piling up too since I got home because I’ve been having a lot of conversations and seeing a lot of people that#confront me with who I used to be and who I am now and how I’m really not happy with that#and it feels like it’s not gonna get better#like I’m destined to be in a job I like but isn’t what I want because I’m not capable enough and I’ll never know what romantic requited love#feels like. I’ll never cure my vaginismus I’ll never be able to let someone in or they won’t want me this is just it for me#and SOMEHOW the way I look has become the ultimate culmination of all those things?#my face is suddenly a woman in her thirties face#I keep gaining weight despite not even eating all that much because FUCKING PCOS makes it impossible#my hair in my face grew back. my stomach is hairy and that plus the added beer belly just makes it look like I’m a 50 year old man#I am soooooooo tired of the dysphoria#and the way pcos ruins fucking everything because I can restrict calories all I want and move all I want but will it help ? No !#and of the fact that it impacts the way I feel about myself so much because I’m convinced now I’ll never find anyone#should have tried harder when I was 21 because that was the only time in my life I reasonably fit society’s standards like That was my shot#I’ve been taking supplements everyone says will help but I’m not sure I noticed anything in the past six months and I can’t take berberine#because it fucks with my heart medication. which. That too. I have that too#and I’m in pain! All the time now! ALL THE TIME so I can’t even work out to keep the weight stable because guess what ?#just after a normal day at the office I come home and have to lie down because everhthing hurts so much !#today I got an impromptu massage in an attempt to feel better but it didn’t fix shit and I had to buy clothes for kings day after#and I didn’t try them on just quickly grabbed some orange shit to try on at home and at what I saw in the mirror I genuinely got nauseous#I just don’t know who that is in the mirror but it’s not me and I can’t accept it. I’ve been trying so hard but I can’t#it genuinely makes me so sad and I keep telling myself that a reduction will help in feeling more like myself and it will help with the pain#but what if it doesn’t? what if my pain doesn’t go away after af all and my stomach just juts out and I feel like a gremlin all the time#what then. what the fuck do we do then. also I’m so fucking scared of that surgery anyway that I don’t fucking want to do it anymore#I want so many things and all of them feel out of reach and I know my own brain is my worst enemy and it’s not rooted in anything real but.#Isn’t it? really — isn’t it???????
0 notes
babyleostuff · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
౨ৎ voicemails choi seungcheol leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, darling)
Tumblr media
...one: hey darling! we just arrived at the hotel. i called right after we landed but you didn't answer and then jeonghan reminded me that we’re in completely different time zones. i feel like a total idiot for forgetting about it. good thing you didn't answer though, i hope you have the sweetest dreams. anyway, call me in the morning when you wake up. i love you
...two: the bed felt so cold last night. fuck, it’s been only a day and i miss you like crazy already
...three: i think the kids are sick of me. they say i keep talking about you but (laughs) how could i not? how was your day though? what did you do today? did eat something good for dinner?
...four: that photo of you and kkuma you sent me earlier. (pause) it made my whole day. i immediately set it as my wallpaper. (sigh)
...five: i hate cuddling these goddamn pillows, i want you back in my arms baby
...six: oh my god, yesterday was so much fun! mingyu and dino took me out to drink, and we ended up in the shittiest street ever, and like, there were so many people staring at us weirdly. i know we’re good looking, but come on. then mingyu started to get scared, which started to freak dino out too (laugs). and then i started to get scared too. but then we discovered the best bar ever. i can't wait to tell you all about it
...seven: i saw it’s raining back home. i put an umbrella in your bag before i left because you always forget to bring it with you, and make sure to dress well. go over to my place and take some of my hoodies and coats, and i don't want to hear any complaints
...eight: i miss you
...nine: i should’ve brought a bigger suitcase with me, i swear i have so many gifts for you
...ten: i wish you could be here with me. (pause) i love you
Tumblr media
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee
2K notes · View notes
plantpages · 1 year
Text
.
0 notes
Text
Never again
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: When you feel like you are not worthy of being part of the avengers, you discover someone who thinks exactly the opposite.
a/n. So, this is my first fanfic :). I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.
Word count: 1.5k
Fluff, shy Bucky.
As a new avenger everything was hard for you. Not because the rest of the team wasn’t nice or understanding with you, but because of all the pressure you had to go through. Everyone in the city was looking at you all the time, at the new girl, questioning every move you made. Why wouldn’t they? You are the novelty, something new to talk about after a calm period of time. You were there for six months and you were already stressed. 
“Hey Y/N, you okay? You seem off.” You heard Wanda asking as she looked at you with a frown. You had made friends; Sam and Wanda were immediately your favorite people in the team since the first time you arrived, always so welcoming and nice. But you never tell them how you really felt; you didn’t want to be a bother, they all had their own worries and you didn’t want to be another one to add to the list. “Yeah! I’m just tired, I couldn’t sleep last night.” You try to fake a smile hoping she would buy it and stop asking.
Every day at night you go on a walk by a little beach near the compound— your safe place, a moment of peace in which you let your feelings out, crying while nobody is watching or listening to you. At least, you don’t think anyone notices your daily routine, you think you’re being cautious. But that’s not the case, there’s one person who has been watching you since almost the first time— Bucky Barnes, the cold and sometimes rude super soldier. 
Bucky Barnes was stunned the first time you met him, but you thought he didn’t care about you. He looked at you when you introduced yourself, nodded and left the room. You almost cried. Why was he that rude? The truth was that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. When you met him you didn’t look scared of him nor you didn’t seem to hate him. You were like a ray of sunshine, smiling and being nice. He couldn’t allow himself to be near you, he didn’t deserve you. But he started to notice your nightly walks and he couldn’t allow you to go alone. What if something happened to you? No, no, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
Bucky suffered each time he saw you cry, but he didn’t want to interfere, thinking you wouldn't want him near. So he tried to cheer you up from a safe distance. You received flowers (sunflowers, because they reminded him of you), your favorite candies and, even once, a book you wanted to read for a few weeks before he sent it to you. You didn’t know who was buying those things for you, you thought you had some fan like the other avengers had. 
“Hey! Sam! Look what I received today! Someone sent me some candles! They smell amazing!” Sam chuckled at your excitement looking discreetly at his super soldier best friend, who was sitting at the sofa, peeking at you from behind the book he was reading. “Y/N, that fan of yours must really like you a lot, doesn’t it look like that, Bucky?” Of course, he knew his friend, and he knew Bucky was head over heels for you. “Yeah, sure.” Bucky hid himself again behind the book, not before sending a death glare to his friend. You blush, realizing in that exact moment that he was there. You might have developed a tiny crush on him. Well, maybe not that tiny, but he was so handsome. And even though he barely talked to you, you loved when you saw him laughing and joking with Sam and Steve. It was a rare but beautiful sight.
It was night again, and the day had been really hard for you, you had made a mistake that caused the loss of some important files. The team was able to recover them, but still, you felt awful. It was like you only failed again and again. That night, you started walking by your comfort beach but you couldn’t see through all the tears falling down your eyes; it was too much. You sat in the sand and started crying; you couldn’t stop. 
You felt strong arms wrapping you. “I’m here.” You could recognise that voice anywhere. Bucky was there, with you, hugging you and telling you that he was there for you. You hugged him tight while crying more and more, while he caressed your hair. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.” 
When you calmed yourself, you didn’t want to move, you were too embarrassed to do something. Not only had someone seen you crying, but that someone was Bucky Barnes himself. “Y/N? Do you feel better now?” 
You nod and look at him, your face completely red. He chuckles when he sees how embarrassed you are. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I… I feel awful. What I did today… it could’ve ended really badly, Bucky. I’m only a burden; I don’t belong here. People are watching me fail everyday at something. I can’t anymore.” You try to not start crying again but you fail.
“Don’t say that That’s completely false, Y/N. You’re really important here. You don’t realize how helpful you are here.” He hugs you again and kisses your forehead while you keep crying. 
“Do you really believe that? I’m not that relevant; I’ve been here for six months.” You look at him again, still blushing.
“Don’t you realize how much we need you? It’s not only the fact that you are an amazing agent, it’s also because you always have a smile on your face, always smiling. You are always there when someone needs something, willing to help. You don’t want anyone to suffer, but you suffer alone. The team would not survive without you. I wouldn’t survive without you.” He whispered that last sentence and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were still hugging and you were so close to him, you would’ve missed it.”
“What?” You blushed again. “Bucky, what do you mean?” 
It’s his turn to blush, as he ignores your question. “You know, it’s not the first time I see you here… I just didn’t want to bother you. It seemed like you wanted to be alone and… yeah, today… I couldn’t just stare and do nothing.” 
“I appreciate it. I really do. I needed that hug.” You look straight in his eyes. “But can you answer my question, please?” You saw how he avoided your eyes and blushed more. You then realize that he hadn’t let you go off his arms, and you blush as you start to chuckle because you two look like idiots. 
“Are you really gonna make me answer that? Can we ignore it, please?” He knew he’d have to answer but he didn’t want to. 
“Yes, please.” You now looked at him with a serious expression and he realized that this was his chance, he was going to tell you how he feels about you.
“Okay, but please don’t interrupt me, I need to say this quickly” You nodded. “Y/N, I… since the fist time I saw you, you live rent free in my mind. You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. You truly are light; you bring sun to the darkest days. You remind me of a sunflower. When you started walking at night, I started too; I couldn’t let anything happen to you. When I saw you crying every night… my heart broke in a million pieces, I wanted to help you, be there for you everytime you needed me. But I didn’t know if you would’ve wanted me to be with you, I know that we are not that close, and I feel it’s my fault.” You didn’t know what to say; you stared at him in shock.
“Bucky, why? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Why didn’t you talk to me? Or tried to be my friend?” You were trapped in his eyes, so blue you thought you could drown in them.
“I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I… I have something to confess. The flowers, the candles… It was me.” He looked away from your eyes.
“Look at me, Bucky, please.” He looked at you, then at your lips. The tension was palpable. You looked at his lips and then up at his eyes. When you saw the way he’s looking at you, you felt at home, safe. You had never felt as loved as in that moment. So you did it. You kissed him and the world stopped. It was just both of you; nothing else mattered. You felt safe with him and you knew you’d never be alone again.
“Bucky? I don’t want to do this walks alone again.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, kissing your forehead. 
“Never again, love, never again”.
487 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 3 months
Text
My Love Is Mine All Mine
Tumblr media
Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕
Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.
Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.
A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!
Masterlist || Series Playlist
Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 
He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 
You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 
He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 
It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 
The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 
The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 
Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 
You accepted understanding from him, though. 
When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 
He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 
But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 
“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 
It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 
“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 
“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 
You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 
You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 
“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 
“I think so.”
“Then set up the board and let's play.” 
He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 
More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 
You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 
You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 
The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 
But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 
“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 
You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.
He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 
“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 
“What?” 
He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 
“I live down the hall.” 
You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 
“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 
Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 
Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  
One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 
“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 
“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 
“I have three PhD's-” 
“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 
You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 
Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 
You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.
What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 
He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 
Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 
You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 
Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 
You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 
But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 
The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 
You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.
You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.
“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 
Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 
“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 
As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.
Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 
“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 
“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 
You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 
“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 
“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 
The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 
“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 
His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 
Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.
Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 
It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 
He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 
When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 
“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 
“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.
622 notes · View notes
cameronspecial · 2 months
Text
You Are Going To Be My Entertainment, Baby
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Summary: With Rafe at work, Y/N needs a way of entertaining herself.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
With Asher’s birth, Rafe took six months off from work. Being the son of the boss helps make that possible. However, today, he got called in because someone royally screwed up and they can’t find a file he made before going on paternity leave. Y/N insisted that he goes in. He has been by her side for three months already and she can handle taking care of their son for one day by herself. One thing she didn’t account for is the boredom of being the only adult in the house. Between the crying and the taking care of Asher, there are moments of silence when the mother and son stare at each other. The TV plays in the background as the three-month-old rests on her bent thighs. His tiny hands are wrapped around her fingers. She moves her fingers around and makes playful noises to get a smile out of the babe. The laughter of her son pops an idea in her mind. “You are going to be my entertainment, Baby,” she whispers to the small child. 
——
Rafe sits back in his office chair with a sigh. His eyes glance at the time on his laptop screen. 1 PM. It is way later than when he was planning on getting home. He thought it would take him an hour tops to get done what he needed to do, but people kept coming in with requests only he could fulfill. All he wants is to get back to his wife and son. He could just go home and ignore the employees' needs. He is their boss on paternity leave after all, yet he felt a little bad for taking so long off of work. He is about to text Y/N that he is going to be a little while longer when he notices she already sent him a text. He opens the messages app to find a video waiting for him. He presses play. His wife’s singing fills the air as his son appears on screen. He can see her frame standing behind the baby, except her head is cut off by the camera angle. She is holding Asher up by the waist. Her hands cause the giggling baby to wiggle as she makes him dance while she sings. The video cuts to Asher in a different outfit and she sings a different song. This pattern continues for about fifteen more seconds before the video ends. 
He exits the video and is about to respond when he notices she sent him a picture. Asher’s face is in a giggle and it warms the father’s heart. The next photo sent is one with pure confusion written on his face. A slew of photos follows. All of this gets a smile out of the father. Once the texts stop, he takes the opportunity to call his wife. “I see you are occupying yourself while I am away,” he teases. Y/N holds the phone between her ear and shoulder as she rests her sleeping son in his crib. “I did. He was just looking up at me with big eyes, telling me that he wanted to put on a show for his daddy,” she mutters. Rafe chuckles, “I can see that. I’m sorry I’m taking so long. I’ll be home soon.” “It’s okay, Rafe. Take your time. I seem to be pretty good at finding ways to entertain myself.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
379 notes · View notes
hedgehog-moss · 1 year
Text
The text updates I was sending a friend while at the protest in Paris yesterday are kind of tragically funny, it goes from "the cops are staying away and as a result everything's going well, they clearly received better orders today, I'm glad" to "wait, no, forget that"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1. "Everything's going well, there are a couple of small fires but no one cares, the crowd calmly avoids them, some people stop to warm their hands over them, it's very civilised. I don't think the people who set stuff on fire are the problem, when the cops stay away everything goes smoothly"
2. "There are groups of CRS with batons and shields in the side streets but they stay very discreet compared with the other protests and weirdly enough this one is calmer!"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
3. My friend : "Maybe they received different orders today"
Me "Yeah it's a miracle, someone made a sensible decision"
4. "We just passed another side street full of cops and I heard someone said "last time they started charging us, we had no idea why" so yeah they clearly received different instructions today"
Less than 10min later: "never mind we're being tear gassed"
Then: "Never mind they just charged us several times we have no idea why"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I arrived at the end point of the march, looked back and there was a fresh new cloud of tear gas over the (very calm, many elderly people) groups in the middle of the march. More police cars + a water cannon are arriving"
Can't overstate how calm the protest was, just people (100K to 300K according to estimates) walking from point A to point B while holding signs. There were a few trash fires but if they'd sent firefighters to extinguish them people would have let them through... I had friends who walked in the middle of the march to avoid any trouble or gas and they still got tear gassed without knowing why. Even supposing there were people ahead of me I couldn't see who were being more antagonistic towards the CRS, surely the hundreds of cops present could have somehow dealt with that without charging and bludgeoning peaceful protesters and tear gassing thousands of people? Right now it's not possible for French citizens to peacefully assemble without getting systematically gassed by police.
Tumblr media
Here's a video of when they first charged the front of the march, the people they're hitting can't move back any faster (I was somewhere in the compact crowd behind wondering (cause I'm not tall I couldn't see anything 😭) why we were suddenly being pushed back when things had been calm and fun until then. People who had been there before were coaching others like 'don't try to run, you'll make the people behind panic, just walk fast'). I counted five or six tear gas grenades going off
From what I've heard from people who were at the protest, the ones who didn't get gassed are the ones who were at the back of the march and left early without completing the march (some left because they saw the cloud of gas ahead). I've also seen people at other protests in various cities yesterday describing a similar situation : peaceful crowd getting separated in two by a charge, gassed and soaked with water cannons, most people having no idea why. If I had to describe this in terms of police strategy it would be, gas as many people as possible to dissuade your average peaceful protester from completing the march and showing up next time, and be aggressive towards the front of the march to rile them up and get nice images of youth burning things or throwing stuff at cops to show on the evening news and turn public opinion against protesters.
(Note that the society of journalists working for France Télévision (public TV, like the French BBC) have published a statement decrying the poor framing of the protests on the national news, saying too much emphasis was placed on the small amount of people destroying stuff and almost nothing on police brutality and the record numbers of (peaceful) protesters in the streets.) (Read this if you're French and have been wondering why some people around you still don't think the situation is worrying...)
Anyway, I'm glad I went. It was good to see so many people just as angry as I am about what's happening to this country and guillotine-chan was in attendance, and many people had very fun signs and I liked this angry flag:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 20 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda
Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!
Devika Rani (Achhut Kanya)—She was grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore (laureate). She was sent to boarding school in England at age nine and grew up there. After completing her schooling, she joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) and the Royal Academy of Music to study acting and music, at a time when aristocratic women did not enter showbiz. She studied filmmaking in Berlin. It is well known that she underwent training at the UFA Studios in the art and technique of acting under Eric Pommer, and other aspects of film production including costume and set designing and make-up, under eminent directors like GW Pabst, Fritz Lang, Emil Jannings and Josef von Sternberg. She is also reported to have worked with Marlene Dietrich. She had a multi-faceted personality and took on many responsibilities of film production at Bombay Talkies, a studio that she co-founded with Himanshu Rai in Mumbai in 1934. She often took care of hair and make up, supervised set design and editing, scouted for new talent and mentored them. She was the face of Bombay Talkies, and also the reason behind the political and financial backing the studio received, at a time when even women from red light districts refused to work as actresses. She was the first recipient of the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, when it was instituted in 1970.
This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Deborah Kerr:
Tumblr media
I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.
Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.
Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.
Tumblr media
Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!
Tumblr media
Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"
Tumblr media
She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS
Tumblr media
Devika Rani:
Achhut Kanya (1936) is the only one of hers I've seen but hot DAMN
Tumblr media
245 notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
instead of you [part thirty-nine] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 
warnings: swearing, angst
word count: 3.1k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
“How much longer until we reach it?”
“You’ve asked that six times in the past ten minutes!”
“That’s because no one’s given me an answer!”
“Because no one knows, Felix! None of us have hiked this path before.”
Felix grumbled something behind his brother’s back but he must not have heard because he didn’t argue further.
The majority of the hike thus far had been uphill, something that the park rangers had neglected to mention when they sent you off into the forest. Thankfully, the mountains and canopy of trees provided some kind of shade but it was still scorching hot. And humid. And you were sweating like crazy. 
Everyone was. Minho had already taken his shirt off and Felix had completely sweat through his. That was probably why he was complaining so much. He refused to take it off, though. Something about not wanting to get sunburned again. 
“You doing okay?” Jisung asked, looking over at you. 
The two of you had found yourselves in the middle of the pack for once, walking behind his parents and in front of his brothers. 
“Yeah, fine,” you answered, trying not to sound as out of breath as you felt. 
“Did you bring your inhaler?”
“Um...”
“Why do I even ask?”
-
After fifteen more minutes of walking and a bathroom break, you finally reached the waterfall. 
Felix sighed. “That’s it? We walked all this way for this?” 
“Shut up, Felix,” Jisung snapped. “It just looks small from the bridge, it’s not actually that small.”
“I’d say it’s a pretty average size,” you added, “maybe even kind of big.”
Minho laughed behind you. Thankfully, his parents didn’t seem to hear your comment. To be fair to Felix, it wasn’t a huge waterfall. It certainly wasn’t the biggest waterfall in Hawai’i, but it was one of the few that visitors could swim under. That’s what made it so popular. 
And the bridge had made it look smaller than it really was. 
There was an area to rinse off before and after getting in the water so you all took turns under the showerhead. 
Nikki was the only one who didn’t want to swim, which meant that she was stuck with all of the bags. You felt sort of bad when Jisung handed over the backpack you were sharing but Nikki assured you that it was fine, that she would rather hold them for you than have you rent one of the rusty lockers to store it in. 
Waimea Falls required everyone to wear a life jacket, regardless of swimming ability. You knew it was a liability thing but you still couldn’t help but shiver when you slung on the cold, wet vest and buckled it around your chest. Who knew how many people had worn it before you today.
Shoes were optional so you left your sandals in the gravel by the bleachers and tiptoed your way back over to the edge of the water. The boys did the same. 
The five of you stood there, staring at the rocks leading down into the lagoon, trying to figure out how to proceed without falling. It was hard to determine the best way in as all of the rocks that were big enough to step on were either jagged and/or slippery.
“Ladies first,” Felix said unceremoniously.
You glared at him but decided to take a step down anyway. Someone had to go first and since everyone else was being a pussy it might as well be you. You moved at a snail’s pace, trying your best to move in a way that wouldn’t send you tumbling down the incline if you misstepped. 
The rocks seemed stable enough to hold your weight without sliding around in the mud but one of them wobbled under you upon stepping on it, making you nearly lose your balance. 
“Careful!” Jisung and Minho shouted at the same time, causing you to turn around and make a face at them both. 
They traded weird looks with each other before turning their attention back to you, who had made significant progress toward the water. By the time you finally reached the edge, the boys had started trekking down behind you, much more haphazardly than you had. 
You extended your leg out in front of you to feel it out, trying not to scream when your toes grazed the water. It was freezing, way colder than you expected, but you knew it would feel incredible once you were fully submerged. It was one of if not the hottest days of the trip and you had sweat through everything. Even the life vest they’d saddled you with was beginning to feel sticky. 
“How is it?” Jisung called from behind you. 
“Feels good!” you lied, not trusting yourself to turn around and show him your face. He’d know you were bluffing instantly. 
Since you didn’t want to hold up the line, you took a deep breath and pushed yourself off of the ledge, finding your footing with both feet in the water. The bed of the lagoon was also covered with rocks. They were more slippery than the ones on the path seeing as they were wet and covered with algae so you had to be extra careful. 
You moved away from the shore so that the boys could get in after you. 
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!” was Jisung’s shout from behind you.
You turned back to see him submerged up to his waist. He apologized to the people around him for cursing before glaring at you. 
“You little brat!” he muttered, lunging at you.
You let out a yelp as the weight of your best friend dragged you under. You both emerged with dripping hair, laughing and sputtering. 
“You said it felt good!”
“It does! It’s refreshing!”
“It’s cold as fuck,” he muttered, “and you knew that.”
“What, can’t take a little chill?” you taunted.
He splashed you. 
“Are we going to swim over to the waterfall or what?” Minho’s voice echoed from behind you both, sounding annoyed. 
Jisung smirked before turning around to face his older brother. 
“We don’t all have to go together. You could have gone on without us.”
Felix was the last to get in, gingerly stepping on the algae-covered rocks to make his way over to the three of you. Dom stayed by the edge, content to keep Nikki company from the water. He claimed to be too old to swim against the current just to get thousands of gallons of water dunked on him. 
“Let’s go, babe,” Jisung said, jerking his head over his shoulder in the direction of the waterfall.
Swimming to the base of the waterfall proved to be a lot more difficult than it looked. The current was strong and moving against it required a lot of effort. People who weren’t strong swimmers had no chance of making it all the way under. 
It was doable for you, but not without struggle. The boys seemed to be in the same boat, save for Minho, who was the fittest out of all of you. He was already several strokes ahead of the rest of you when Jisung called out for him to wait up. He paused and tread water while he waited for you and the twins to catch up. 
“I thought we were going together,” Felix panted bitterly. 
“Not my fault you guys are slow,” he rebutted. 
“Maybe we should hold hands,” Jisung suggested and pointed to another family who was making significantly more progress. “They’re doing it.”
“You think that’s going to work?” you asked. 
“Yeah, how do we know you guys aren’t just going to hold me back?”
Felix clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Minho-”
“You could stand to pull some more weight, K-pop boy,” Jisung pointed out.
“Tsk, fine. How should we do this?”
Minho obviously helmed the line. You were stuck between him and Jisung, with Felix bringing up the rear. You didn’t argue about your place in the order but it did feel strange to be holding both Minho and Jisung’s hands at the same time. You couldn’t tell whether they felt similarly but you had to assume they did. 
Minho tugged you along and you pulled Jisung in turn. They held on to you tightly so as not to lose you in the tide. You tried to focus on keeping your head above the surface instead of the feeling of both of their hands in yours. 
Jisung’s hand-holding strategy actually worked and you made it to the waterfall twice as fast as you would have on your own. 
Trying to get under the waterfall was another ordeal. The water pressure was so aggressive that you had to fight against the water in order to get up on the rocks right beneath the stream. 
“This kind of hurts!” Jisung shouted over the roaring of the water. 
“Yeah, I think I’m getting bruises!” Minho agreed. 
“You guys are pussies!” you yelled, even though it did hurt and you wouldn’t be surprised if was bruising you. 
“I think Mom is trying to take a picture!” Felix screamed.
Automatically, all four of you posed even though you couldn’t see where Nikki was and you could barely open your eyes under the stream. You grabbed for Jisung but got Minho instead, accidentally squeezing his ass in an effort to hold his hand. How you mixed up the person standing beside you and mis-approximated where their wrist was, you didn’t know, but you immediately let go once you realized your mistake and fumbled for the right person’s hand instead. 
If Jisung noticed what happened, he didn’t say anything about it. Minho definitely did notice and you could see him trying not to laugh out of the corner of your eye. 
“Should we swim back now?” one of the boys, you weren’t sure which, asked after you had stood there for what felt long enough for their mother to have snapped a couple of photos. 
“You guys can, I think y/n and I are going to swim around by ourselves for a bit longer.”
That was news to you but you weren’t necessarily upset about it. You hadn’t been in the water for long anyway and you wanted to make the most of it. And if Jisung wanted to be alone with you, you weren’t going to say no. 
Your number one priority was winning him back, making it up to him, as much as you could. 
You followed Jisung to a secluded part of the pool, letting him tug you along as you floated on your back. Minho and Felix either got out or fucked off to another part of the lagoon. You weren’t paying attention when you split up and you weren’t about to look for them. 
“Did you want to talk about something?” you asked your best friend. 
“No, just wanted some space from my brothers.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Did you want to talk about something?” he parroted. 
You made a face. “No, unless you’ve changed your mind.”
You could tell he knew what you referring to immediately from the way his expression shifted. 
“Not here, yeah?”
You nodded in agreement. He was right, you should have that conversation somewhere private. Still, you took his answer as a good sign. ‘Not here’ implied that there was somewhere that you would have that conversation, which meant that he was willing to have it. You counted that as a win. A very small win, but a win nonetheless. 
“What?” Jisung asked, squinting at you through the sunlight. 
“Huh?”
“What’s got you smiling like that? What’s on your mind?”
You hadn’t realized you were smiling until he pointed it out. 
“Just happy to be here with you.”
-
You had dinner at some famous burger place that night. You were too tired to pay much attention to what you were eating or what everyone was talking about but you’re pretty sure the food tasted good. 
The restaurant was in the middle of their dinner rush when your party arrived so you had to wait for a table. There was a small surf shop attached to the same building so you went with the boys to check it out while Nikki and Dom scoped out somewhere to sit. Everything was expensive so no one bought anything but window shopping kept you occupied for the time being. 
After dinner, you rode with Jisung’s parents back to the resort. He seemed indifferent to your presence this time, which you took as another win. He held your hand in the back seat and you rested your head on his shoulder. Neither of you fell asleep but you kept your eyes closed, enjoying the silence.
“We’re here, kids,” Nikki said softly once Dom had parked in the lot.
Jisung stretched, forcing you to sit up too. You thanked them for the ride, and for dinner since they paid, before Jisung asked if you wanted to take a walk on the beach. 
“Sure, let’s go.”
He led you by the hand through the maze of buildings to the hotel’s beach entrance. You passed other couples as you strolled past the pool and the firepits and it made your heart sink a little. You were jealous of them. Jealous that they could enjoy each other’s company out in the open like that. Jealous that they looked so happy. Jealous that they weren’t sacrificing one relationship for another. 
You were definitely projecting, they absolutely could have been in the same situation as you and you would never know but you refused to acknowledge that possibility because you were resolute on feeling bitter. 
The sun hadn’t fully set yet despite the late hour. Being that it was still the middle of summer, it wouldn’t get dark until much later than usual. You were also convinced that daylight lingered longer in Hawai’i than it did in other places but you had no evidence to back that up. 
“Here, I’ll carry your shoes for you,” Jisung offered, holding out his free hand for them. 
You paused. “Oh, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I know you don’t like the feeling of sand in your shoes.”
“Thank you.”
You bent down to undo your sandals and handed them to Jisung. He looped the straps around two of his fingers and resumed holding your hand. 
The sand was still warm, holding on to the heat of the day. 
“Are we going all the way down to the water?” you asked. 
“If you want to,” Jisung answered. 
“I don’t really feel like getting wet again.”
“That’s fine with me.”
You settled for walking along the outline of the tide where the sand was still dry. You followed the curves of the waves from hours past, tracing the remnants of high tide with your arms out like you were walking on a tightrope. Jisung trailed behind you for a few moments before catching up with you again. 
You had pulled your hand out of his grasp moments earlier to run ahead, distracted by the seafoam in the distance. You waited for him and put your arms back by your sides. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ditch you,” you sighed when he reappeared at your side. 
“I know,” he replied. 
Instead of offering you his hand this time, he gave you his elbow. You took it gently, resting your hand on his bicep. 
He was uncharacteristically quiet. You wondered what was on his mind. When he invited you down here, you thought it would be to talk, to finally have that conversation. Maybe it had been and he changed his mind. Or maybe it had never been his intention in the first place. 
You were starting to think you’d never get an answer when he finally spoke. 
“I’m sorry for what I said.”
You tensed but kept walking, not wanting to confront whatever expression might be on Jisung’s face. If you stopped, you would have to look at him or stare at the ground. If you continued walking, you could just look straight. 
“I... didn’t mean that shit... about wishing I never met you. Or any of it really. I wanted to mean it. But I couldn’t, because none of it’s true. I was just really hurt. I still am, to be honest.”
“I understand,” you responded. 
“I want us to move past this,” he continued, “but it still feels really fresh. I mean, I only found out about you and Min a few days ago.”
You nodded as you listened. He was right. It had only been a handful of days even though it felt like an eternity. Being at odds with Jisung was hell. He was your best friend, after all. You had lived life with him by your side for the past four years. You didn’t want to imagine what that would look like without him. 
“Right.”
He cocked his head to the side, lost in thought. 
“I’m sorry too,” you added, wanting to reiterate just how shitty you felt about the whole thing. 
“I know,” he said softly. “I know you are. I knew you were then too. I’m sorry for invalidating your apology-”
“Don’t be!” you interrupted. “My actions and my words... they don’t add up. I would’ve thought I was bullshitting too.”  
Jisung scratched the back of his neck and forced a laugh. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy to wrap my head around. But I get it, I think. There’s just something about Minho, isn’t there?” 
You snuck a glance at him but didn’t say anything. You had a feeling it was a rhetorical question. 
“You must have been miserable this whole time. Trying to push down your feelings for him and then finally acting on them but being consumed by guilt when you finally do.”
“It hasn’t been the best,” you admitted, “but it’s my own fault.”
“Not entirely,” Jisung reasoned. 
You were surprised he was coming to your defense but you figured he’d go up to bat for anyone if it was against Minho. 
“Enough of it is.”
Your best friend shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like you’re known for your decision-making skills.”
You scoffed and nudged him with your shoulder. He laughed a real laugh for the first time in days. You had missed hearing it. It made you smile too. You rested your head on his shoulder and for once it felt natural. 
“I really am sorry, Ji,” you sighed, your voice wavering. 
“I know. I can’t pretend that I’m over it... but I will be. I also know that I can’t ask you to end things with him...”
“You can-”
“No,” he murmured. “I can’t. You would resent me for it.” You opened your mouth to protest but Jisung shook his head and you closed it again. “You would. Maybe unconsciously, but you would. Things wouldn’t be the same.”
“Things won’t be the same if I don’t end things with him,” you pointed out.
“I know,” he agreed solemnly. Then he sighed as if it was something he had already come to terms with. “But you’ll still love me the same. And that’s enough.”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
187 notes · View notes
tomorrcwz · 2 months
Text
˗ ˏ ˋ 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓
Pairings : Logan Sargeant x reader (platonic)
in which Logan and you have a day off work in London and decide to go to build a bear, creating each a stuffy for the other as you did as children.
— only friend i need series
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Come on Logs, live a little", you said, pressing the blonde to agree to your spontaneous idea of the day. "it's a fantastic idea, I always have those, and i still can't believe you've lived here for what? Two years now? and still didn't do it. shame, mate."
Said man, who sat opposite of you, took another bite of his somewhat healthy breakfast choice his trainer would've had a wet dream about, all while starring in disbelief at you, the one who's bright smile focused on the plate of waffles, covered in strawberries and cream.
He shallowed, opening his mouth to disagree with the idea but nothing came to his mind, letting you grin in excitement. "I— well, fine, but don't you think we're a bit too old for build a bear, y/n?"
"Buh, since when do we do age appropriate stuff?", you questioned, thinking back about the many times you rode rollercoasters for children, watched movies in the cinema for zero to six years old and did other things people considered then to be made for children. "it's cute, saw a tiktok about it."
"You and your tiktok obsession — when did you even watch it? We were out all day yesterday."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Are you that old, sargeant? You were in the gym after we had lunch at mine."
"Yeah true", the man sheepishly agreed, remembering the cardio and weight session, before his blue eyes brightened, signaling you that he had an idea — for the better or worse, you never knew with him.
"Please enlighten me, what's on your mind?"
Logan's smile widened, pupils blooming. "How about I build you a stuffy and you for me like we did when we were younger?"
"Yes please, that has to the best idea you've had in a while, Logs", you giggled. "Let's eat and then we'll make our way there, its in that mall not so far away from here."
With that, you both ate in silence, listing to the gossip around you — an older woman complained to her son about back pain, a couple fought about having another baby (the woman didn't want another one while the man was adapt on growing the family) and a man in his forties tried to flirt with the waiter —, Logan and you sent each other looks and quirked eyebrows, whenever the topic grew hotter and juicier.
As you shallowed the last bite of your delicious breakfast, Logan already waved the waiter over to pay for today's expenses — since both of you worked, you took turns with the payment, even though the racer tried to take the check whenever you were eating in a somewhat bougier place, saying that he made more and wanted to be a gentleman which would get him a snort out of you or a slap on the arm. not that it hurt him, you liked to think the hits had to be gently because of his worth for Williams.
After the blonde had paid, he impatiently stood up, holding out his hand for helping you to stand up. "Let's go, y/n, we don't have all day."
You let go off his hand, pressing a finger to your forehead. "Don't know why I keep up with you, you're acting like a kid in a hardware store. i'm praying for Alex and his patience."
"Hey, I'm not that bad", your friend shrieked, pulling your head into am armlock to rub your hair which he knew you didn't enjoy at all — you weren't a pet, you'd tell him.
"You're a shithead, have I ever said that to you?", you grumbled as you freed yourself from his strong grasp.
"And you're what? a Saint?", a snort escaped the man's throat, pushing you lightly forward to continue your way to the destination. "cause I don't think so, you're as bad as me, that's why we're friends."
Once again you grumbled under your breath but decided to just walk, letting Logan rant about his trip to New York with Williams and the training camp that was held in Miami.
When you arrived at the mall, you've heard all about his recent work experience, Alex's stories about his holidays and a new recipe Logan's mom came up (it didn't sound but why was she adapt to add pumpkin to the dish?).
"Look logs, there it is", you pointed out, gaze hazy with childish excitement. You intertwined your hand with his, dragging him inside the colourful store to the yet lifeless bodies of stuffies — there was the classic Teddy in a few shades of brown, forest and savanna animals as well as movie characters like yoda, stich and hedwig, Harry Potter's beloved owl.
you truly were in paradise. "Oh look, it's an eagle, that's so American, so you", a booming laughter fell from your lips, winning the attention of a mother daughter duo next to you, causing you to blush and Logan to pinch your side.
alas, your friend had enough of you, so therefore he left your side to explore the many options the shop had in stock. You didn't see his pick as your only matter was to fulfil the task of finding the right stuffy for logan and putting it in clothing.
In the end you decided on a cute black alpaca and put it in a white cargo trousers combined with a multicoloured party shirt and some blue jeans jacket, letting yourself be inspired by the clothing styles of Logan and George Russell's invention of white pants and a williams team shirt as a williams driver's standard uniform — you'd switch up the party shirt as soon as you'll get a hang out of sewing to make a mini williams shirt but for now the alpaca was going to own the shirt as did logan in the summer when you both went out for a wild night back home.
As you put the heart and the small voice box thingy in the stuffy, a small happy tear rolled down your cheek; you chose to say two things: the first one was the viral meme of him being American, silently screaming rwahh what the fuck is a kilometre and the second was a sweet message to cheer him up, hopefully, whenever he felt bad and you'd be out of his reach — a small fracture of yourself, reminding him of his greatness and uniqueness, and that he was loved and cheered. You were a sentimental being, no shame whatsoever, even though your friend sometimes liked to tease you about it, causing you to clap back — it was just that kind of friendship where you could let lose, be yourself without further worries nor feeling embarrassed or awkward.
When Logan finally got to you — you had waited for him outside of the mall, leaning on the car as you had texted him, and bought two cups of coffee at the small café on the opposite side of the build a bear shop— you gave him the box, containing the alpaca, wearing a silly expression on your face, which Logan mirrored.
"Let's see, if you still know me after seeing the whole wide world without me", you joked, silly smile morphing in a naughty grin on your lips.
"As if I could forget you, stinks."
"Maybe I should return it, you don't deserve it—"
"Hey, I don't do anything wrong", he exclaimed, making grabby hands to get the stuffy.
"Mister Sargeant, you are a liar and a very bad one at that", you tsked him. "Haven't we already said that we refer to call me stinks? the name should be buried six foot deep next to—"
"Don't you dare, y/n."
"I definitely should tweet the nickname, your colleagues would eat it up, don't you think so?", you giggled gleefully, remembering how you called him as you were two young children, running around the neighbourhood to terrorise them.
"And that's why I don't take you with me", he mumbled under his breath, holding out his hand where the stuffy box hang off. "Here we go, silly, hope you like it."
Slowly, you opened the box and the sight of your favourite animal greeted you, wearing the cutest hogwarts robes of your house. "Aw Logs, it's so pretty and fluffy. I love it." Gently you pressed you face against the small head of the stuff toy, enjoying the cozy texture of it and closed your eyes, salivating the moment.
After a moment, the blonde man enclosed you in a hug. "the alpaca's lovely, y/n/n. Best idea we had in a while."
"yeah true", you agreed, returning the hug.
272 notes · View notes
bryngmemoney · 3 months
Text
✁FASHION FLIRT✃
Megumi Fushiguro x Reader
⭑story masterlist link
tw:none
Writing in between messages!!
🪡Chapter Fifteen: 8-ball
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
“You have to show me him!” Yuki exclaimed as you adjusted her outfit, making sure everything fit well. “Well, I could show you a picture, but he’s gonna come in right after you, so you could stay a minute extra.”
You two were referring to Megumi, as Yuki had always been one interested in starting conversation on people’s types. You were no exception. She told you that the reason she did it revealed a lot about the person without them knowing, you could see what she meant to an extent but really only she knew what she was talking about.
“Ooo, like how soon after me?” You looked at the time displayed on your phone, seeing the lock screen show the song you were quietly playing in the background for you and Yuki, as you guys were the only ones around. The numbers at the top read the time 5:50. “Like in ten minutes maybe, he said he’d be here around six.”
You backed up, asking Yuki to spin for you, seeing that everything seemed to fit well. “Does anything feel off?” “No, it’s perfect actually!”
“Great! Well that’s really all, you can go and change again, are you staying for a few?”
“Well I am curious, i’ll stick around with you for a bit.”
Tumblr media
6:20, and Megumi was no where to be seen. “Is he running late?” Yuki asked leaning her back against the table while she sat down, facing you who was standing up, peaking out the window of the studio room to see if there was any sign of anyone walking in.
“I don’t know, he hasn’t answered the text I sent him.”
“He usually shows up on time?”
“Most of the time, there was just once where he showed up late, but that’s because of something that was happening.” You turned back to Yuki, checking your phone just once again to see if there was any sign from him. “Like how late?” You placed your phone down, sighing before answering “40 minutes..”
“Oh, wow.”
“He made up for it though!” You defended, “He took me out to dinner, it wasn’t really a date because his friend was there too, but still!” Yuki just hummed seeming amused in your story.
“Okay, i’ll wait another 10 minutes max with you then, but if he still hasn’t responded or shown up, we’re leaving.” You yawned in response, not feeling tired because it was late, but instead because this week had really exhausted you with class work. “Can’t we make it 15?”
“Listen, he’s already done something like this before, and you’re tired, just tell him not to show up and talk it out later, but if I was you i’d go and take the fattest nap ever first.”
Tumblr media
Megumi sighed after finally finishing his project presentation for his Photo Seminar class. He really needed to try on this assignment, as his last one wasn’t the best. He didn’t fail, but he wasn’t anywhere near where he wanted or needed to be. Stressing over it he was glad to have finally finished his preparation, feeling a weight being lifted off him that is until he checked the time to be 6:38, then it was replaced with panic, remembering he had promised to meet you around six today. He looked for his phone, only to find it and see a text from you already saying you left 7 minutes ago.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Author’s Note: date with megumi officially planned🗣️‼️
tbh i think beer pong is my favorite imessage game
hope you guys enjoyed!
Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!
TAGLIST
@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst
193 notes · View notes
graysturns · 26 days
Text
𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣 | 𝕔.𝕤.
Tumblr media
notes: oh shit another one! i’m in a good mood today oops
warnings: no smut sorry just chris w the rizz
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄
i sat at a booth at the far end of the restaurant, polishing and rolling silverware into neat little bundles. it had been two hours since anyone had come in, so i sent the cook home. i could handle it on my own, the diner had been in my family for years and i basically grew up there. not that there was anything to handle, the floors were mopped, grill cleaned, and now, silverware rolled. but still, someone had to stay behind, just in case.
i was gazing at the sunset through the large glass windows, when i heard the bell above the door ringing. my head shot up and i locked eyes with a beautiful, beautiful man.
i stood up, patting my hands on my ridiculous waitress apron, and approached him with my customer service smile. "hey there, welcome in! just one dining in today?" i greeted him.
"yep.." he spoke awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"would you like to sit at a booth or have a seat at the bar?" i grabbed a menu and a set of silverware from behind the counter.
"the bar is fine, thank you," he took a seat on the spinny stool.
"alrighty then, there's the menu for you, my name is (y/n) if you need anything, and i can go grab you a drink while you take a look at that. what would you like?"
"umm.." he flipped over the laminated sheet. "i'll have a chocolate shake please, extra cherries.
"perfect! i'll be back in a minute" i spun around and headed back to the kitchen, secretly annoyed that i had to pull out the blender, and ice cream, and etc. etc.. but alas, doing something was better than nothing. i hurriedly prepared the milkshake, topping it with whipped cream, then some rainbow sprinkles. i made sure to add five or six cherries on top, then adding some extra whipped cream, just because.
i hurried back to the counter, placing his milkshake before him, and popping a bright pink straw into his drink.
"pink?" he raised an eyebrow at me. i felt a shift in his demeanor.
"yes, pink?" i raised one back.
"do i seem like the kinda guy who likes pink?" he smirked a little.
"it's just pink, doesn't mean anything. i grabbed a random straw sweetie, i'll change it out for you, sorry about that," i reached for the straw.
"no no no," he brought the shake closer to him. "my bad sweetie, i thought you were trying to say something, but that's okay, i actually do like pink."
i gave him a puzzled look. "i'm sorry sir, i didn't mean to offend you, i work in a diner, we call everyone sweetie here, that's how we get old guys to tip big. as for the straw, i'll just let you pick what color you want next time."
he focused on his shake, sipping slowly for a second, before looking up at me, licking his lips.
"i'm not offended sweetie, i kinda like it," he laughs. "i apologize if we got off on the wrong foot, i'm not trying to be rude, or weird or anything, i'm just really bad at flirting."
i let out a sigh "-gosh you scared me! i thought you were gonna murder me or something because i'm all alone in this diner! man, you're terrible you know that?" i giggled.
he looked very amused. "how do you know i'm not a murderer? you can't let people know you're all alone here, as pretty as you are. that's dangerous." focusing back on his shake.
"i'm gonna choose to trust you today, i have nothing better to do. anyways, have you decided what you want to order?"
he pays attention to the laminated sheet once more, then looks up at me. "what's good here?"
i roll my eyes.
"what? did i say something wrong?" he's chewing on his straw.
"that's just like, the most annoying thing you could ever say to a waitress but, again i have nothing better to do." i grab the sheet from his hand and point out a couple things.
"if you're in the mood for breakfast food, the biscuits and gravy are good, if you like that sorta thing, our pancakes too, and my personal favorite is the french toast with a caramelized peach topping, but that takes some time if you're in a rush.." he's staring at me. "sorry I'm rambling, there's so much to choose from!"
"no don't worry about it, I'm enjoying listening to you talk. but no, i'm not in a breakfast kinda mood, sorry. you can keep going, if you'd like,"
i feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.
"..okay let's see here. for dinner, we've got our classic american burger, comes with your choice of fries or onion rings?"
"hmm.. no i'm not feeling a burger at the moment."
"how about a sandwich? we've got grilled cheese, turkey club, BLT, maybe a philly cheesesteak?"
he shakes his head no, so i keep going.
"fried chicken? or a salad? we've also got country fried steak."
"i think it's called chicken fried steak, sweetie." he smirked.
"mmm no actually, it's a country fried steak."
"no it's a chicken fried steak, because it's steak, fried like chicken."
"you know what, i don't even care, that's what you're eating, since you can't make up your mind. alright sweetie?"
"alright." more smirking.
"that comes with a side, what do you want?"
"what are my options?" he licks his lips again, eyeing me up and down.
"eyes up here, sir." i point to my face.
"you can do mashed potatoes, green beans, or a baked mac and cheese."
"i'll get the mashed potatoes, thank you sweetie." he says it without an attitude this time.
"okay great, give me a few minutes and i'll have that right out for you, okay?"
"okay," he replies as i hurry back to the kitchen, pulling out all the ingredients for his meal.
as i'm finishing up, i hear the bell chime again, indicating someone has either left or entered the diner.
i peek out the swinging kitchen door and see the man's seat empty. i hoped he didn't leave just as i was finishing preparing his meal.
i plate up the potatoes, then the steak, and smother it in gravy, then walk out to the counter, carefully setting his plate down where he was sat, then sitting on my stool the opposite side.
suddenly, he walks back in, running a hand through his hair.
"hey sweetie! sorry i didn't mean to make you think i left without paying. my brother was just calling to see where i was, so i stepped outside for a moment."
"that's alright, your foods out, and you know, we don't have to keep calling each other sweetie, you know my name, just tell me yours. "
"no i like it this way, it's nicer.” he takes a seat, grabbing his fork and knife, digging in.
"wow y/n this is amazing! normally i don't like this sort of food but wow, you really outdid yourself."
"oh hush, i just had to throw it in the fryer, don't give me the credit." i beamed at him.
"but i do have to clean up, so i'll see you in a bit, enjoy your meal." i winked at him.
"no, please. stay here, i don't like to eat alone. and i like the conversation."
"i really should go clean up-"
"miss (y/n), just a little company please?"
i can't say no to those eyes. "okay fine, i'll sit with you" i reply to him, returning to my seat on the stool.
"good. thanks, babe."
"so it's babe now?" i raised a brow at him.
"we'll play around with it, see what we like more." he takes another bite.
"you're a dork, you know that?"
"i can be your dork," he smiled at me some more.
"that was so corny, don't do that ever again. please, i'm going to vomit."
"ew, babe i'm eating. you shouldn't talk about vomit. it isn't very ladylike."
"but babe, i can't help that you made me nauseous," i pouted at him.
"i don't make you nauseous. you love me!" he pouted right back.
"babe we just met!"
"but you're calling me babe, babe." he grins up at me.
"you got me there. hey babe, you want another shake?"
"i'd love one,"
"okay, be right back!" i hop off the stool and run to the kitchen, hurriedly preparing another chocolate milkshake, extra cherries and whipped cream.
"here it is," i push out the swinging doors.
"a chocolate shake for you, sir," i giggle as i throw in another pink straw.
"you said i could pick! i wanted orange this time." he frowns at me.
"aw too bad, i forgot. sorry babe. but you get what you get, i can't be wasting straws, now, think of the turtles."
he laughed then proceeded to enjoy his shake.
"i can't believe i've never been here before. quality dinner and entertainment, that's quite hard to come by nowadays," he spoke.
"i didn't consider myself very entertaining, but thank you, we try our best here at Jo's." i beamed at him, sat up straight, then jokingly pointed to the "Jo's Friendliest Face of 2023" pin fastened to my apron.
"i was completely joking babe, but i'm honestly astounded that they gave you a pin for being such a dork! this is a proud boyfriend moment." he teased.
"i'm gonna be honest with you, my dad owns this place and i'm the only one who works here besides the cook. anyways, i stole this pin from my dads office to get more tips," i trailed off.
"so you're a liar and a thief, (y/n)?" he laughed.
"aw no more babe?" i pouted.
"you gotta earn it back," he smirked.
i rolled my eyes slightly.
“okay nevermind, i like it when you roll your eyes like that, babe.” he winked.
my jaw dropped at his comment, it wasn’t outright dirty but it was definitely implied.
“babe at least take me on a date first!” i laughed and lightly smacked his arm.
he chuckled and looked down at his plate, which was now bare.
“as much as i’d love to stay and chat, i’m needed elsewhere, but we can continue this conversation another time.” he grinned cheekily.
“alright sounds good, i’ll be right back with your check,”
“no that’s okay, here’s my card. you can just run it.” he handed me a debit card. i smiled sweetly at him and walked to the computer to charge him.
after running it, i flipped it over to read “CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO” on it.
aw, chris.
i walked back over to him and placed the receipt back on the counter, along with his card and a pink pen with a fluffy pom pom on the end.
“what’s with you and pink, babe?” he smirked at me.
“i just think it’s cute, anyways, have a great night. thank you for stopping in and come back soon. i’ve enjoyed our conversation.”
he poked his cheek with his tongue as he watched me clear the counter of his plate, and walk back into the kitchen. i could feel him staring holes through my skirt.
i placed the dirty dishes in the sink and walked back out, but he was gone.
the receipt on the counter was filled out, and i hoped to see his phone number, because that was a normal thing in this industry, i never cared for it until now though.
unfortunately that was not the case. on his tab of $14.12 he had left fifty-seven cents. totaling to $14.69.
with a winky face by the sixty-nine.
what the fuck?
i ran outside hoping to catch him, and he was there, walking to his car.
“christopher!” i shouted in his direction.
he snapped his head around, and smirked.
“what’s up babe?”
“listen, i don’t normally come after people when they stiff me but what the fuck was all that for? you come in and smooth talk me and now you’re stiffing me, writing down sixty-nines and winky faces? is that how you normally treat service workers?” i got all up in his face.
“and then you made me feel like there was something! i thought i li-“
he grabbed my cheeks and pulled me toward him, kissing me passionately.
“don’t call me christopher please, it’s chris. no actually, babe. i don’t like all that formal shit.”
i didn’t even know how to respond.
i stepped back and smoothed out my apron and cleared my throat.
“um, i-i dont even know what to say.” i stared at the him.
“i was trying to piss you off. i can assure you i’m an excellent tipper. trust, babe. i wanted you to follow me out here, see how much you really liked me.”
he pulled his phone out and opened up a new contact, then handed the phone to me.
i grabbed it and typed in my number, shocked but so intrigued by him.
he grabbed it back and erased where i wrote my name and typed in “babe”.
he gave me another kiss, but just a peck this time.
“see you later babe.” he winked then slapped my ass before walking away.
i stood there dumbfounded, before running back into the diner and pressing my back against the door.
my phone buzzed and i pulled it from my apron pocket.
(617) xxx-xxxx sent $69
(617) xxx-xxxx “;)”
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄
ahhhh omg i really like this one! hope u guys like it too 🤍
even though i’m new to this i’m super down for requests just lmk
116 notes · View notes
an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months
Text
Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.
For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)
Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.
Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?
That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.
Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.
At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.
He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.
I’m happy I’ve met you.
Thank you for being here.
Good night and have pleasant dreams.
You are stronger than you think, Angel.
I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.
You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.
You’re doing great.
Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.
Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.
Tumblr media
Taglist
@angelltheninth
@tired-of-life-86
@nixie-writes
@frompeach
@riddle-simp
@likesugarandcyanide
@witch-of-the-writing-desk
@22carolina08
@angel-tsugikuni-kamukura
@justamegafan
@saltyfruitbat
@lanxianschoenheit
@trecllllllll
@vikkirosko
@imperfectbloodmoon
@theunknowntravel3r
@thatstonedwriter
@isuckatwritingsobenice
@chroniccorvus
@food-theorys-blog
@doc-tooth
356 notes · View notes
landwriter · 1 year
Text
Desperate Measures | Dream/Hob | 1.2K | G v silly and fluffy, literally 90% air, dream attempts a romantic gesture, hob is a sap and forgetful, human au, part text fic
for @domaystic drabbles, Day 6: Under the Same Umbrella
---
Dream woke up to 26 texts from Hob. He put on his glasses and began his morning read. It’d replaced Times for him. The editorial quality, he thought, was far superior.
Hob (7:19 am) heading out, gave you a wee forehead kiss and you didn’t even stir. sleeping bloody beauty. love you disgustingly much x
Hob (7:26 am) couldn’t find my umbrella anywhere can you take a look if it’s not too much of a bother? feel like i’ve gone mad
Hob (7:30 am) christ it’s bucketing down!! standing under the eaves just to tell you how much it’s bucketing down
plants will be happy at least so will my goth boyfriend ;) hope your writing goes well today love. extra atmosphere!!
Hob (8:42 am) nevermind don’t look for it remembered that i left it in my office told johanna she can use it since i’m at the archives all day anyway glad i’m not the only one who’d forget their own head if it wasn’t screwed on :) :) :)
Hob (10:11 am) you should’ve seen the look lisa gave me when i showed up had to dry myself off in the men’s w half a forest of paper towels there goes my carbon offset from walking i said christ you’re probably still in bed asleep warm dry!! lucky bastard
wish i could come back already and drip puddles all over you
Hob (10:37 am) if this keeps up i’m going to look like mr darcy in the rain on your doorstep tonight don’t worry i promise not to propose marriage while insulting you xx although i do love you most ardently
...elizabeth
Dream smiled, read them all again, contemplated, and then sent his reply.
Dream (11:01 am) Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through
Hob replied moments later.
?? you sound like a customer service agent wait you’re quoting the film you can’t reject me if i’ve not proposed to you!! yet!!!
Dream snorted. 'and I am very sorry I have caused you pain' went the line. They’d watched it last weekend. Hob had cried, and Dream had privately decided that if Hob proposed, he’d say yes. Even if it was poorly done. It wouldn’t be, though. Not if Hob was doing it. He sent a second text.
...and I am very sorry you were drenched by rain.
Then he got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. His phone buzzed anew as he made tea and toast. He smiled at the sound. On their first date, Hob had warned Dream that he had a bad habit of annoying boyfriends over text. Dream, on his first date in six years, had wondered what it might be like to be so effusively charming that you could have enough boyfriends to form habits around them at all. He hadn’t known what to say, and Hob had ducked his head, grimacing a little, and said, “Just tell me to piss off, please, if I do? I know I can be a bit much.”
Dream believed it, because the man was telling him about his habits with boyfriends after one date. Not that he minded. And three months in, Dream had yet to tell him to piss off.
Turns out, a bit much was exactly what he’d wanted. Needed, in truth. Someone to tether him to the real world. His phone had become a modern-day lodestone in his pocket, a comforting pull of Hob-ness that would always point him back to life whenever he’d emerge, blinking and disoriented, out of the mire of his work. Work that he loved - creating worlds out of nothing, writing stories that would change people - but, coming on the age of thirty with nothing to show for it but recurring wrist strain and an upmarket flat that never had any guests, work that had also made him spend so much time apart from the rest of humanity that he was sometimes unsure how to rejoin it.
The tipping point had been when his eldest sister had found out that he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in between two of their regular dinners. Which were monthly. It had been mortifying. She’d smiled sadly, which was excruciating enough, and then gotten the gleam of a plan in her eyes, which had been far worse. “I’m setting you up,” she’d said. “I know just the guy. We go way back. I think you’ll like him.”
He had. Now, when his phone buzzed, he found himself frowning if it wasn’t Hob. (An exceedingly rare occasion.) But this time it was, of course. Four short messages sent one after the other:
hahahaha ok fine that was v good enjoy your day x
Five hours later, not even the curtain of rain awaiting him outside could douse the anticipation in his belly. An idea, he knew, was a powerful thing. Dream didn’t have an umbrella - Hob always shared with him, and would’ve apologetically nicked his if he had - so he would make the first leg of the journey as Hob did. He intended to go and get something nice, but once in the cold downpour, his resolve failed him almost at once, and he ducked into the first shop that had umbrellas in the window.
“Hiya,” said the girl at the counter without looking up from her phone.
Dream ignored her, blinking the rain out of his eyes, belatedly registering all the merchandise had a unifying theme and that he’d made a terrible mistake, borne of sheer desperation.
“Would you happen to have any other umbrellas? In black?” he asked. Hidden behind the counter, perhaps. If only you knew to ask.
The girl looked at him with an air of disbelieving reproval only accessible to teenagers and the very elderly. “You could try Boots, you know. It’s just down the street.”
Dream looked out the window. Rain torrented down. Commuters hurried past with their sensibly coloured umbrellas. From places exactly like Boots.
“Or we’ve got rain ponchos,” she added. It sounded like a threat.
“Nevermind,” said Dream quickly. “I’ll take it.”
“Enjoy your visit in London, sir,” she called out as he left.
He stepped outside and flicked open the umbrella with slightly more force than necessary.
Dream waited a few paces outside the archives, wanting to surprise Hob properly. Two separate pairs of tourists had thought he was their London Ghost Tours guide, and he was beginning to regret not holding out for longer, drenching be damned. Then Hob emerged, striding out and immediately stopping to pull out his phone. He was smiling at it. Dream smiled too, in anticipation.
A moment later his own phone buzzed loudly in his coat pocket, and Hob looked up in surprise.
“Oh my god,” he said. Then he said it again.
“I heard you needed an umbrella,” said Dream. He’d had the line already, since he got the idea. It had been very dashing and romantic in his head. It was somewhat undermined by the dreadful costuming choice that had been forced upon him.
Hob looked between Dream and the umbrella, bafflement melting into a happy laugh. He ducked underneath, pecking Dream on the lips. “I’m not sure I needed one quite this badly. Did you rob some poor tourist?”
“Unhappily, I paid for this.”
“Oh no,” said Hob, pulling away and pretending to inspect him for injury. “My poor darling. Your dignity.”
Dream sniffed. “I will recover.”
“Here,” said Hob. “I’ll carry it for you. You’ll only be guilty by association, then.”
They began walking, a bobbing Union Jack in a sea of blacks and greys. After the chief sin of ugliness, it was also a little small for two grown men, but Dream found he didn’t resent that at all, as Hob tucked him tightly into his side to keep them both dry. People gave them a wide berth. Tourists could never be trusted with umbrellas.
“You’ve rescued me, you know,” said Hob, nuzzling into his cheek.
“It wouldn’t do to have you dripping puddles all over the floors,” said Dream.
“Even if I looked terribly handsome, all wet and ardent?”
Dream bit his lip and smiled a little. “Perhaps you can be wet and ardent in the shower. Instead.”
Hob laughed again. It was Dream’s favourite sound. “Much warmer than the rain anyway. Deal.” Rain drummed down on their private nylon ceiling. “I was thinking chicken tikka masala for dinner?”
And so they made their way home, and although the rain never let up, Dream was so content and warm that he might’ve sworn they were walking in the sun.
629 notes · View notes