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#as you can see I am being deprived
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Hualian got into my English lecture notes. Don’t know how that happened.
Look at little Honghong-er!!!!!
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antiqua-lugar · 3 months
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For Not-Italians, an Italian rapper said "Stop the genocide" at the end of his final performance at the Sanremo Song Contest and got called out by the Israel embassy for "spreading hate".
You can read the article for yourself, but what the article doesn't say is that our goverment who is now falling over themselves to support Israel and claiming to fight against all anti semitism is lead by the Brothers of Italy (Fratelli d'Italia) which is a fascist party.
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diluc33rpm · 3 months
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astarion is so fucking funny as a character because conceptually he hits all the marks of a wet cat blorbo but in practice he's unbelievably hard to stand. i'll be on the bg3 companion guide and have to start CRYING from trying to find the shit under his section that gains approval. loses -15 points for gently suggesting we not massacre an orphanage in cold blood with the d&d equivalent of a nuclear warhead
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isabelguerra · 1 year
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im not even in an analytical mood rig jr now im just. isabel was going to end the game right there if hed just swallowed his pride and gotten out. it wouldve been over. maxes arm wouldnt have broken. jeff wouldnt have gotten into nearly as much trouble meaning violet and cody wouldnt have had to worry as much as they did. maybe cody wouldntve felt vengeful and maybe hijack wouldnt have gotten cut in two. johnny wouldnt have felt the guilt at max breaking his arm for him he wouldnt feel the conflict of seeing the effect his bullying had on jeff he wouldnt have that whole arc kicked off because it wouldve just ended right there before it began. if isabel had gotten johnny out of the game. if johnny had not purposefully caught the ball. if he had stopped and dropped and rolled over . but he didnt and then they yelled puns at each other for two panels and never looked at each other again and im ill
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viksalos · 1 year
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i hope i am not only a mutual to you all but also a semianonymous benevolent presence that wishes you well when you’re online and going thru it <3
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redsaurrce · 2 years
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so tired of people glorifying sleep deprivation like STOP.
Youtubers who carry sleep deprivation as some sort of a medal around the neck are really messed up, I mean mate- if you're a student, it's really common to be sleep deprived or feel anxious but for fuck's sake this shit is getting standardized more and more making the students who are able to study well with enough sleep being pushed to partake in this, thinking this might make them more valuable or smth. Which is load of bullshit!
If you're a student on my blog, please take care of yourself well.. sleep deprivation shouldn't become smth fashionable in our mindsets, if you're sleep deprived- please relax anytime you get to.
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ms-demeanor · 6 months
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I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?
Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.
Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."
Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.
BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.
Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.
ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.
Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:
1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."
2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.
3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.
4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.
5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.
6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.
7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).
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treepainting · 10 months
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I just found out about a flower called a thistle flower.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/steviec-photography/6239635329
Jaggy Thistle
flickr
I thought it looked interesting, and that the color was pretty, so I looked it up to see if I could learn more about it and it is. Such a good plant? A direct quote from a literal .org site (https://weedwise.conservationdistrict.org/2017/thistle-identification.html) is that ‘Native thistle provide important habitat and food sources for native fauna. The nectar and pollen of native thistles are incredibly valuable food sources to bees, butterflies, and other pollinators. Many insects feed on the leaves, stems, flowers and seeds, while some songbirds also feed on thistle seeds.’ Like. It’s so good for it’s native ecosystems??? But Victorian Englands flower language is so cruel to it????? Like, the Celtic cultures that its more native to all equate it with resilience, strength, determination, protection, and honor? Which all hold such good meanings behind them? And then you have Victorian England who sees these useful resilient plants that have such a pretty (royal, ‘cause purple was really hard/expensive to get) color as unwanted flora, having its flower language mean pain, aggression, and intrusion?? Just cause it’s spikey?????
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writersdrug · 14 days
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Training for Two: pt. 5
Simon Riley x Dogsitter!Reader
<- Previous
Warnings: cursing, obsessive behaviour, pining, still pretty tame at the moment, a hint of angst?
A/N: Ugh I meant to post this sooner but work was kicking my butt - that and I'm a bit sleep deprived. I've got more in the works, though! Hope you all enjoy! PS Running out of gifs to use so I'm using fan art and OMG I am obsessed with it all!!!!!
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art by @sleepyconfusedpotato
The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.
Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.
"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.
He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."
Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."
"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."
"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."
Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...
A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.
"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"
"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."
Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"
"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.
"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.
Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.
"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."
"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."
Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.
Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.
"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"
She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.
"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"
Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.
Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.
He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.
Hello Simon!
Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.
Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!
Have a nice evening!
P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.
He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.
He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.
"Riley, c'mere."
Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.
He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.
"Play dead." He said firmly.
Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.
He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.
She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.
"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.
He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.
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After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.
His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.
He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.
After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.
He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.
He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.
He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.
He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.
He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.
Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.
"Hmm?"
She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.
He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...
Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.
"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.
She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.
"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.
Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.
"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"
She cut him off with a shrill yap.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.
"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.
He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.
He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-
Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.
"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.
Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.
"... m... hello?"
Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.
"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."
"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."
Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.
"Hello?" He asked cautiously.
"Up... 'm up... what's up?"
Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"
Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.
Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"
Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."
Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.
"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."
"Hmm?"
"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."
"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."
Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."
"No- she wants you to tuck her in."
"She wha' now?"
You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."
He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.
"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.
"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.
You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.
"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."
"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.
He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.
"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."
"I did?"
"Yeah. The green one."
"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"
"Who are you talking to at this hour?"
Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"
"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?
"Talk to me."
"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"
"My client, ya git."
"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.
"Got me right in my bloody eye-"
"Oh, hush."
"Left your flannel at his house."
"My green one?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were using the grey one!"
"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"
"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."
You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.
"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"
"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.
Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."
"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"
"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."
You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."
"Right, will do. I'll text you."
"Is everything ok?"
"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."
"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."
"G'bye."
He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.
Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.
He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.
Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.
"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.
She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.
"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.
Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.
He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"
She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.
He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.
"We'll be alright, girl."
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riediaries · 5 months
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the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.
you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.
you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.
"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.
"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.
"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.
you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.
satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.
"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.
you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.
you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.
this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.
satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"
you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.
"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.
you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.
you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.
"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.
he hums, signaling you to continue.
"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.
as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.
"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.
"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.
he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.
it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.
he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.
"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.
"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.
"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.
giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.
"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.
"no–"
"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.
what a rough future you'll be expecting.
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getosbigballsack · 2 months
Text
Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary
Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.
He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.
At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).
But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.
Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.
He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.
I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?
Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.
It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.
I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.
Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?
It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.
He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.
No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.
He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.
Does he not want me anymore?
Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.
I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,
That's my duty as his wife.
To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.
But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.
I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.
But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?
The last entry to your diary reads.
I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 
Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 
Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 
The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 
“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 
You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 
He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 
So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 
“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”
You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”
“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 
You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”
“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 
Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 
“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”
“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 
“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.
“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 
“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 
“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 
“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 
“I- I’ll do better.” 
“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”
“Yes?” you said. 
“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”
“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 
“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 
He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”
“Yes?” 
“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 
“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 
“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 
“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”
“Ok…”
“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."
“I love you too, Satoru.”
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evilminji · 4 days
Text
Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?
Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆
But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.
So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:
Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.
When will it ever end!
He's... he's honestly used it.
Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.
It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.
His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.
(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)
But THEN...
The Accident.
And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.
Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."
When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.
"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"
How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.
When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...
They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.
Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.
...
.....
He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.
He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.
But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.
His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.
It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.
But...
But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.
Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!
Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?
Breakfast blend? And a bagel..
N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?
......oh.
It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.
Tea.
He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.
He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.
The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.
They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)
Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.
The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.
The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*
*sighs in medical professional*
Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.
👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.
He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.
And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.
His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.
But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.
They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.
It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.
He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?
Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.
Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.
She's not WRONG... but hey D:<
Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.
She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.
Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....
Sam?
Oh FUCK ™.
By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.
>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.
Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!
Wtf!
Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?
Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?
"The Zone".
In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....
It stays untouched for MONTHS.
Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.
Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.
Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.
There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?
Anyone who tries to cause trouble?
Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.
Which off course!
Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.
After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.
@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes
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roanniom · 8 months
Note
Um for Eddie positions
On your back with your legs over his shoulders
Or laying on your stomach. Like you were laying on your side in bed and he comes in to cuddle up and can’t help himself
Or he bends you over the back of the couch
Or him holding you up against the wall because he can’t wait to get to the bedroom
Or with you sitting on the bathroom sink trying to get ready in the morning
Or on the edge of the pool during a midnight swim
Sorry I’m newly single and reminiscing
Omg never apologize for sending me beautiful, hot thots like this!!! I love them.
I think the idea of Eddie holding you up against the wall because he can’t wait to get to the bedroom is WILD.
Impatient
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
“Eddie,” you huff against his lips when he finally migrates his sucking, biting kisses down your jaw to your neck, giving you a second to breathe. He’s tugging at your layers and beginning to discard them haphazardly right there in the living room.
“Princess,” he replies into your skin, mimicking your tone and breathlessness. You chuckle and in spite of your next words you thread your fingers deep in his hair.
“Eddie, let’s go to bed.”
He’s shaking his head before you finish your sentence.
“Can’t wait. Need you now.”
“Impatient much?”
You start to laugh again but all the humor is replaced with blind lust when you’re shoved against the wall. His hard body is against yours, confined erection pressing and rutting into the apex of your legs.
“Feel that? That’s what you do to me. You wanna be sexy as hell and tell me I gotta wait to go all the way to the bedroom to fuck you. Nah. No dice.”
“The time it took you to say that we could have—.” You don’t get to finish your teasing contradiction because his mouth is on yours and his hand is pushing up your skirt. He finds you wet, exactly as he assumed he would, and your moan spills from your mouth into his.
When he begins fingering you in earnest and you can no longer keep up with kissing him back, Eddie pulls a few centimeters away to watch the way you crumble against the wall.
“Wanna go to the bedroom now, princess?” he asks, smug because he knows the answer. You do your best to stare daggers at him but it’s in vain because your brows are furrowed and your eyes are rolling back with pleasure.
“Just fucking fuck me already, Munson.”
“Somebody’s impatient,” Eddie chuckles. But he yanks down his jeans and pumps himself a few quick times before lining himself up with your dripping entrance.
You both moan, all humor and teasing gone the second he sheaths himself inside of you.
It’s hard and fast as Eddie works himself up to a good rhythm. It’s been a while since he’s had you quick and dirty against a wall, but there’s something so fucking hot about the fact that you’re only a few steps away from the front door.
“Holy fuck, can’t believe you would have deprived me of this pussy,” Eddie whines after a few minutes of sweaty, panting, skin-slapping silence.
You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t already threatening to roll back into your head.
“The room’s like 15 feet away, how’s that deprivation? This is an apartment, not a mansion!”
“I can’t hear you over how good you feel, shit.”
Already so turned on from being fingered, you’re on the edge very quickly, which is good for Eddie because he’s beside himself.
Your head lols to the side against the wall while Eddie bangs you into it. You watch him take his pleasure and squeal delightedly when he reaches down to play with your clit, prioritizing your pleasure as well.
“Fuck I’m close.”
“Don’t hold back, baby,” Eddie grunts.
“You’re just saying that because you’re waiting for me to cum so you can,” you say cheekily.
“You bet your ass I am. Almost busted my load just rubbing up against you.”
“Romantic,” you huff, but he sees how your eyes glaze over and feels your pussy tighten even more.
“Prince Charming for you, only, princess.” He grins and kisses your neck. That’s what does it, if you’re being honest with yourself. You cum hard, seizing around him and feeling him cum only seconds later (he’d been hanging by a thread).
~*~
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bumbleboa · 6 months
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I am back with more sketches for @calysto1395 's AU!
Fic snippet of her writing behind the cut:
EDIT: Fic is also now available HERE
“Fine, fine! I’m going. Stop shoving me.” Law throws his hands up and steps onto the train.
“I don’t want to see you for at least 24 hours.” Bepo retorts, his paws on his hips and blocking the doorway like a bouncer. If Law wasn’t so fucking exhausted from a ten hour surgery session he would have a clever comeback right about now. As it stands, he can only repeat Bepo’s words at him in a mocking tone. He flips Bepo off as the train doors close between them for good measure before he turns to find a seat as they slowly roll out of the station. 
There is as usual only one other person on the train. Hiriluk Hospital Station is usually the one where everyone gets off as the line continues out of town into the shitty outer district where Law has his dirt cheap apartment. It’s a good thing too because Law usually has no patience for anyone after work and before work he needs to save what little he has for his patients. 
His usual companion is a young man, maybe around Law’s age, who has tan skin and green hair who nods at him when Law falls into one of the empty seats. He’s always there before Law gets on and doesn’t get off anywhere before Law does. Law sees him as often as he does his coworkers so he would say they are almost friends. Save for the part where Law has no idea who he is besides a passenger and incredibly attractive.
“Trouble in paradise?” The guy asks, snorting with a smirk. He’s huddled into one of the seats that run sideways along the walls of the train, jean jacket and a hoodie today, legs propped up on his huge backpack with the long case sticking out of it. 
Law just rolls his eyes and lets his head fall against the headrest. It’s part of the routine at this point. Guy will make a comment or greet him and then it will be silent for the rest of the ride, just the way Law likes it. The stranger on the train might be Law’s favorite person, right after Bepo. Then again Bepo humiliated and bullied him onto the train today so maybe the stranger has taken top spot. 
“You got blood on your cheek.” The guy says and Law feels the annoyance at the routine being disturbed before he processes the words. His eyes blink open and he rubs at his cheek with his sleeve, feels the crusted flakes rub off and sees them clinging to the fabric of his hoodie. 
Law stares at it for a long time, feels his eyes losing focus for a minute before he blinks and shakes his head. Maybe Bepo had a point in sending him home. He sighs deeply, feeling the exhaustion deep in his bones. “Yep.” He says and rubs his cheek once more just to make sure he got it all. 
Stranger just gives him a nod when he shoots a questioning glance at him before he buries his hands in his jacket pockets and closes his eyes, settling deep into his seat. Law takes it as his cue to do the same. Just to rest his eyes for a little bit. He has about twenty minutes until he’s at his station and the conductor usually doesn’t check tickets this late at night. Law tells himself it's just for a few minutes. Just until his retinas stop burning. 
Then before he knows it there is a hand on his shoulder. He jerks, flailing wildly and smacking something before he gets his bearings. 
The stranger is standing next to his seat, looking down at him, hand falling to his side from where it had hung outstretched between them. “That’s your stop right?” He asks. 
Law blinks, confused. Head swirling to look outside the window to see the Tang Station sign out front. “Shit.” He manages to say, scrambling with his bag to hustle outside just in time before the doors close on him. He’s catching his breath on the platform, heart racing in his chest when he looks back at the train and sees the guy standing there still. He leans down a little to wave through the window as it sets back into motion and Law’s sleep deprived brain doesn’t manage to respond in any way before they are out of view.
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mothercuntry · 6 months
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†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, sexual content (alluding), jock!abby, soft!abby, simp!abby, stubborn!reader, abby being a tease. part one.
jock!abby patience was wearing incredibly thin. she was always having to share you with ellie and she despised the situation just like the fucking brat — the one who demanded all your time and attention. okay, so maybe she was being a bit needy, and really the two of you hadn’t really said you were exclusive, but abby wasn’t with anyone else and didn’t want to be. she was stupidly sweet on you, and the sex was amazing. you were worth it for her to fight a little more.
jock!abby caved when it’s been an entire month and all she got were longing texts from you. saying you missed her but with classes, trying to keep your head above water, and ellie, you just didn’t simply have the time right now. although, abby blushed when you confessed she was important to you and you would see her soon. it’s the only time she’s thankful the interaction is filtered through a screen.
jock!abby called you the night before the game, she was supposed to be sleeping, or at least trying to, but with you on the forefront of her mind it seemed nearly impossible. she was embarrassed, your phone ringing four times, no answer. but on the fifth, you finally picked up. she thought you were ignoring her, avoiding her at the very least. but then you’re honeyed voice drips all over her heart and now it truly feels like the first day of spring.
“You should be sleeping, Abs. You have such an early day tomorrow and you need rest.” “I know, I just-” Abby took a moment to breathe, trying to calm herself enough to not reveal herself as a totally pathetic loser. “I’m so tense, baby. How am I supposed to sleep?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what has you so…tense.” You question suggestively, your voice lowering an octave. “Well, I haven’t see you in a month, so there’s that.” Abby hints, and you pick up on it immediately. “There’s a line of girls on this campus who would love to ease the tension for you. Pick one, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go far.” Your tone is bitter, thinking of her with someone else, but you don’t have much room to feel jealousy. Not when Ellie would feel like you stabbed her in the back if she found out about your late night rendezvous with Abby. “Stop it.” Abby barked. “What?” “You’re honestly going to make me say it? When you’re the one who’s been avoiding me? Really going to make me beg for it, baby?” You snap. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” It’s useless now. Abby has you pinned. Honestly, you’re not even upset about it. “You don’t have to lie me. I already know what you want.” “Fine, I’ll bite. What do I want, Abby?” “You want to not like me, right? It’d be easier wouldn’t it? I bet it would. But you like me, sure as hell love fucking me, and that can’t sit well. Not when I’m the enemy, not when I’m so evil and cruel.” You were silent, only heavy breathing could be heard on the phone. “Just tell me to fuck off, tell me I’m mean, tell me I’m the worst and I’ll hang up and you won’t have to talk to me again.” Abby continues, as if she needs to say anymore. “Be a good girl for Ellie, baby. It’s why you’ve deprived me of your pussy, huh? Tell me you don’t want to feel my lips, my tongue, my fingers. Be a good fucking girl and say it.” You were biting your lip, a moan threatening to escape. Pathetic. “I-I don’t, this isn’t…” You choke up, and god you can practically see her grinning. “You don’t want me?” Abby teased. “It’s….god, please Abs.” “You fall asleep in my arms, but then ditch before I can wake up. You don’t wanna see me but text me for weeks how much you miss me. You’re going to have to do better than that. Tell me what you want.” You’re trying to get something out, anything but you can’t seem to form a thought when Abby keeps going on and on, your cunt clenching every time you hear her voice. You’re forgetting why you’ve kept your distance in the first place. “I wanna make you feel good, help with the tension. Baby, please let me.” She finally breaks you, but the both you are smiling and Abby’s light laughter edges into the small cracks of your heart. “Mmmm, baby. Tell me how good it feels to be fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of my voice. Don't even bother lying this time.”
jock!abby thinks about your breathy moans, the wet sounds of your cunt bouncing through the mic and into her ears. she loves hearing you moan her name out, you’re so desperate for her. so willing to be whatever she wants you too even if it will cost you. abby feels bad, but then she sees you and suddenly she doesn’t care what kind of karma comes her way. if she gets to have you, isn’t it worth the cost?
jock!abby isn’t surprised when you’re knocking on her door three days later. it’s clear what you want or at least she thinks so. it’s almost midnight and abby thought you just want to fuck. she’d be more than happy to oblige. she’d pretty much do anything. you’re as sweet as they get, more than she deserves, but she takes it anyways.
jock!abby catches you with her unwavering strength, your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms locked around neck. you’re whispering how bad you need her, how much you’ve missed her, how shitty your week has been, and the only thing getting you through was telling her all about it. so, she lets you. it’s foolish maybe, but abby can only think with her heart right now, and it really wants to be with you.
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irndad · 1 year
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hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺
enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily
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He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 
And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 
But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 
Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 
It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”
His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 
“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 
“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“
“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”
It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.
It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.
“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”
A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 
He’s just so tired. 
He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 
His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 
His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 
“Are you planning on coming to bed?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 
“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”
Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”
She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 
“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.
“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”
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