#[It's NOT but now I want it - and this is MY cable so- that's how it be]
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I canât wait for the day you decide to give us staff wooziđ𫶠Like yes give me that man â°ïžâ°ïžâ°ïž
staff!woozi
WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.
staff!woozi whoâs practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds donât fry your brain mid-show. heâs always just thereâlike this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, youâre kinda finding it cute now. he doesnât even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.
youâre halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signalâa quick point downâheâs already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like heâs got some big secret: âleft oneâs crackling again?â
you turn, one eyebrow up. âdamn, woozi, you psychic now or what?â
he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. âyouâre predictable,â he says, but thereâs that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, whichâyeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.
heâs fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear itâs like watching magic. âyou keep playing with âem too much. one more yank, and iâm replacing it.â
ânot my fault they suck,â you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.
âtry it again..â he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. heâs already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, itâs jihoon. heâs on his perfectionist shit.
âtestinâ⊠one, twoâŠâ you go through it, all monotone, like youâre recitinâ a grocery list.
he glances up, hands fiddlinâ with some random connector piece, but heâs noddinâ, brows all scrunched up like heâs concentratinâ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookinâ at you, he says, âspeak up like youâre actually performinâânot just for me.â
staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.
âi am performinâ,â you toss back, brows raised. âjust, yâknow, waitinâ for the tech crew to keep up.â
he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when heâs two seconds away from roastinâ you to death. âkeep up? alright, superstar, letâs get your fancy ass mic workinâ then.â
staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, thereâs no space to breatheâlet alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.
âhow can you even breathe in these? hold still.â he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.
âthis is⊠really necessary?â you breathe out, tryinâ to keep your voice casual, even though your heartâs doinâ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.
he doesnât even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippinâ over itself. âunless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot⊠yeah, this is necessary.â
his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. youâre caught somewhere between wantinâ to annoyingly roll your eyes or âhornylyâ roll your eyes.
staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, youâve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesnât complainâjust settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.
but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. âyâknow, there are other seats.â
you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. heâs lookinâ all pompous, like heâs finally pieced together your little routine. âitâs just⊠comfortable,â you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelinâ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.
he chuckles, a sound thatâs too close to teasing. âoh, so iâm a human pillow now?â
âpretty much,â you mutter, pretendinâ to yawn. âitâs just⊠efficient.â
next thing you know, youâre both out cold, side by side, and the crewâs gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the teamâs trying not to laugh.
staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. youâre sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and thereâs woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. youâve seen him do this beforeâearbuds in, watchinâ his anime.
so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leaninâ over his shoulder, catchinâ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng
âyouâre into this?â you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.
he pulls one earbud out, glancinâ at you like heâs deciding whether or not to share his âseriousâ interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and youâre nodding, totally faking that you get it, but heâs so damn into it, you canât help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.
when youâre waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you donât know half of whatâs going on, but jihoonâs talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like itâs life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.
you donât know how you ended up here, exactlyâ n wooziâs hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but youâre here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like heâs watching some masterpiece.
it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and youâd swear wooziâs eyes practically lit up when you said youâd âtotally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.â it became your thing on tourâgrabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.
but right now? youâre barely paying attention to the screen. wooziâs sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like heâs been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didnât even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like heâs giving you a whole show without even trying.
âare you even watching?â he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.
âoh, yeah, totally!â you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. âi know⊠exactly⊠whatâs going on here.â but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.
staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused itâs like heâs analyzing every frame. youâre beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so oftenâat first just a quick look to make sure youâre out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. youâd been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasnât a surprise.
but then, he hears itâhis name, whispered under your breath, soft like itâs the only thing on your mind even while youâre dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like youâre holding onto some sweet secret even he isnât supposed to know.
and suddenly, heâs more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.
woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.
staff!woozi, whoâs suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didnât just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure thingsâll be back to normalâyouâve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, heâs keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like heâs suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.
you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didnât notice.
you huff. âyo, whatâs your deal? iâm just trying to sleep, and youâre over here playing hard-to-get?â
he glances over, raising an eyebrow.
âdonât act like youâre too good for it.â you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. âyou let me last night.â
âyeah, well, Iâm not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.â
you nudge him with your elbow. âsince when did you start caring about your neck, huh? youâre literally hunched over soundboards for a living.â
he shoots you a side-eye. âand maybe thatâs why i need to protect it now.â
you snicker, leaning back, but thereâs that stubborn pout on your face. âwhatever, woozi. donât get mad at me just âcause you didnât sleep enough watching the show without me.â
youâre still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it â just a low mumble under his breath. ânot my fault you were⊠moaning my name last nightâŠâ
your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. âexcuse me?â you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.
he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and heâs already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.
you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream youâd had flooding backâheat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.
âso⊠you heard that?â
his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression heâs clinging to. âyeah, uh⊠kinda hard to miss...?â
you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you canât resist sneaking a glance at him. heâs biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear thereâs a faint smirk heâs trying to hide.
âgod, woozi, you couldâve just⊠i dunno, woken me up or something!â you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.
âyeah, right,â he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. âlike youâd want that.â
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt smut#svt imagines#seventeen fic#seventeen x you#seventeen x yn#seventeen x oc#seventeen x y/n#woozi smut#woozi#woozi x reader#svt woozi#seventeen woozi#woozi fluff#woozi angst#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi reactions#woozi drabbles#woozi headcanons#jihoon smut#lee jihoon#jihoon x reader
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Masterlist Makeover
If you haven't noticed by now, I gave my Masterlists a makeover so it's more pretty looking. Now lets go over the weekly news.
Yes! I brought back the my Billie Eilish - Podcast book because all of you hated me when I took it down so...thank you for bullying me enough to bring it back. With that being said it's not how you remembered it if you read it and it involves the Kardashians. But the twist is I gave my OC the skims company as it's her own. And yes I will be bringing back the pregnancy scandal. Also submit your favorite AITA link or conspiracy theory so you just are also part of the creative process.
For my Paige Bueckers and UCONN fans and die hards, where can I watch the games in real time because the UCONN+ app thought they were funny and made it audio only....and I don't have cable to watch it on SNY. Love you guys!
If you are horny freaky fuck (no shade) and you liked the last chapter of Elementary Love because it was freaky you can go back and re-read that section if you want as I had twitter links...don't judge
Am I doing the tallest correctly because for some reason some usernames are underlined and others aren't? If not please help.
I just wanted to say that I love you guys and want to thank you guys for reading my work even it's more structured for wattpad rather than Tumblr. I still appreciate that you guys show love to to it. I also love when you guys submit submissions it makes my day each time and I love putting them in the beginning of each chapter
#wattpad#black writers#fanfic#black oc#black tumblr#my writing#billie eilish fanfic#billie eilish imagine#paige buckets#paige bueckers imagine#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers#melissa schemmenti smut#melissa schemmenti imagine#melissa schemmenti x reader#lisa ann walter#uconn wcbb#uconn wbb#uconn womenâs basketball#uconn huskies#abott elementary#abbott elementary fanfiction#wlw fanfic#wlw fiction#wlw fluff#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish fic#billie eilish x you
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Okay Iâll be honest I have NO idea how Iâm 6 followers away from 1k and I have not received A SINGLE PIECE of anon hate.
#my anon box has been on this ENTIRE time câmon people#step up your game smh#< guy who is really happy about not having received hate#please donât just send me hate just because you want to now. i wanna see how long i can last like this#cableâs txts#oh yeah iâm rly close to 1k. if u wanna have me bake a acake then get to it people ig#this is just inevitable now isnât it. maybe i should post something terrible so i go back to 100#so i surely wonât reach 1k before the end of the year iâm a genius /j /j /j
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Note on the glowing eye - We've seen in '97 (and somewhat in Deadpool 2) how Nate's eye can flash when dealing with strong emotion but my personal iteration has an ever-present glow there unless he's FULLY relaxed (very rare). Most of the time it's just so subtle that unless you were staring into his eyes you'd not notice that extra fleck, an extra pinpoint that could be dismissed as eye shine in normal light (but can become very obvious in low lighting). Basically as long as his brain is busy, that light is gonna be there in some capacity.
#[Ngl I was watching Deadpool 2 clips and somehow tricked my brain into thinking this was an actual thing throughout the movie]#[It's NOT but now I want it - and this is MY cable so- that's how it be]#[Guys this beefy sad man won't leave my brain please help]#Accessing Data || Cable HC
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Having to explain to my mom that 5min crafts is a content farm/what that is. That sure they have some genuine hacks, but a lot are genuinely dangerous and bad
It's like I'm not trying to be the parent, but I've been on the internet daily since I was 9 years old and you respectively have only been on it for maybe 8 years? Consistently? And only on Facebook. Like man the shit I have seen has aged me a lot more mentally than I care to admit.
It's so hard too bc I know I should like a know it all/conspiracy freak when I tell her not to get a reddit bc she's gonna get sucked into a WS cult and get radicalized, or when I tell her Facebook reels is the same as tiktok. Which she has continuously forbade me to have since it came out (bc evil chinese company. It's okay when it's an evil American company though). That she needs to be careful and not just believe whatever she sees, but it's like for once I DO know more and I DO need to be the adult.
Like I remember having so many fucking talks to get her out of that SAVE THE CHILDREN shit and debunking the wayfair shit, and the Hillary Clinton shit, and all this shit. I constantly am telling her "nope that's antisemitism in disguise, heres why" ab stupid theories and shit and why they're harmful and it's like I want to fucking scream
Idk where I was going with this but like god I'm tired
#and she gets mad when im 'parenting' her and its like well then fucking use your brain!!! think before you share shit! ask questions!!!!#had to explain that the reason jfk had a diff coffin on air force one wasn't like a body swap but bc the first casket wasnt secured right#and the man was LEAKING in the fucking casket and they had to get a clean easier to transport one#that it was his family that didnt want it open not the gov like the man had half a fucking head at that point!! what did you expect?!#and then shes like well how do YOU know all this shit. how do you know YOURE right and Its like bc i check my sources?? bc i know how to??#bc i actually use my brain and dont sit in a digital echo chamber validating what i want to hear#thankfully we dont actually get fox in our house somehow (god probably) and we dont have cable so she cant watch fox & friends#but Facebook is it's own fucking up hill battle and it's like go back to playing 1010! and shit on your phone instead#and she stays on Facebook for that dopamine hit and its like i know you have adhd and your dr doesnt believe you but for godsake#i stg she's the reason my body hair is still turning white. it initially stated bc my dad was causing us so much fucking stress and then#it lessened a bit but now im finding more and more like my body is eating the pigment sgdgdgdgd#im gonna go gray by 35 i stg i have ONE white hair on my head and have gotten several on every part of my body like eyebrows and armpits ect#the funniest is leg hair like oh okay go grandpa#ANYWAYS im tired and i guess i needed to get this out#marquilla
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got a new hard drive (had to, no space left đ), so I'm using that as a reason to completely reorganise my files (mostly shows, movies etc)
I'm having such a good time đ
#not sarcasm! it's so fun#the only thing that sucks is that I managed to break sonarr somehow. didn't touch a thing but okay sure#I'll figure it out#I've got to wait for a couple cables that we had to order anyway before I can start moving stuff around#I've been sooo frustrated with how chaotic everything has been so this is gonna be great#but yeah I've had to delete so much stuff already (not at all because I've been downloading too much John Larroquette stuff or anything...#đŹđŹ)#and I've been complaining about it every day so my husband bought me a new hard drive đ#still not enough space but it'll do for now#I always think 'oh I'm not a data hoarder! I don't have nearly as much stuff as those guys on reddit or wherever!' but like. it's not#because I don't WANT to save all of it#I only have *checks* 16 TB now with the new hard drive. I'd absolutely get a bunch of 20 TB ones if I could but no instead I spend money on#dumb shit lol#anyway yay I can stop deleting movies! very exciting#lol if anything I'm a hard drive hoarder.... I've got 7 internal ones and 3 external ones now.#yeah I just add new ones and don't remove any#I don't even wanna say it because I'll jinx it but. I've never had a hard drive fail. in over 20 years of having computers. I'm scared it's#gonna happen but đ€· so far it hasn't lol#well one external one started failing but it went gradually not all at once. so I was able to move everything off of it first#and I mean I have backups of everything that's important! but not any of the media stuff đŹ it wouldn't be awful but it'd definitely make me#sad because I'm sure there's things there's that I couldn't find anymore#personal
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anyone else have internet so bad it caused a sinkhole in your driveway
#â â đđ€đŁđ đ€đȘđ©. / ooc.#( long story short: our internet provider came and dug up our driveway to put in fiber optic cables )#( but when they repaved the driveway they made the cement WAYYY too thin- so now my truck is literally sinking into the earth bc of how -#thin they paved the cement )#( and our internet is STILL FUCKING GARBAGE !!!!!!!!!! like actually !!! )#( besties iâm so serious never get at&t theyâve done nothing but fuck us over and over again )#( now we have a sink hole that we have no idea how to fucking fill đ„č and i donât trust parking the truck on the street due to -#the insane number of car crashes that occur on my street )#( ouuuggghhh i want to strangle them w my bare hands theyre the WORST )
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...
#guess who fucking fried 3 very fucking expensive machines today. me. i did#bc a fucking cabled decided to burn out and there was only one little symptom so i switched out the sensor head and inadvertently fried#another instrument. then when i was wait. hang on wtf happened here? and i was trouble shooting. i fried another one. so im down to one#machine. fucking holy christ. one mother fucking cable. a problem i cant fucking control and then i just fucking spred the problem#god dammit. which means i either have to do 20 additional days or we cut the number of reps to 7 or 8#and because of this. ive Disrupted the plans of 4 different labs bc it takes at least 3 months for them to do calibration#ugh. i was so angry. whatever. its fine. these things happen in labs and u kinda just have to deal with it. i dont really feel bad on a#personal level bc ive been working with these things for like 4 years and if i mishandled the problem something was pretty fucked up#bc ive fixed a lot of fucking problems on those machines. bleh. and as im like simmering with rage my family is texting eachother like#yayyy vacation soon âșïž#ugh. its just so frustrating bc i onlu had like 7 days left and i could have got thru all 10 reps. its gonna b maddening on one machine#ans ill have to do more when i fucking get back from vacation when i want it fucking done now but whatever ive bought#my fucking plane tickets and i leave in less than 2 weeks. plus ill get to spend at least one day at home#god im gonna be such a fucking bummer tho. im gonna get of the plane and my fam will b like how r u? and im gonna b like not fucking great#i am barely a functional person and im sure ill b so stressed abt thr fact i have to come back here that ill b on edge the whole time bc#thsts what happened over winter break. whatever. next weekend ill b fucking outta here for like 11 days#and just a few more months until i can leave for good. never walk into thst fucking building again. not that i have anything ready for thst#move. bc again. im barely a functional person#god. now i have to fucking ask for thr stupid bottom of the chamber for this last machine. i swear to christ if i have to fucking drive#down to [redacted] i fucking dont even kno#unrelated
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Somebody draw Julie-Su in a wheelchair (self propelled, not push) I'm going back to sleep
#I screwed myself over pushing past my hard limit. can't moooove#muscles locked joints screaming I need. painkillers. lr to sleep for hours#keep dreaming about Lien-Da incidentally defending Julie-Su after Moritori pushes her buttons too far and she snaps#knowing that Dimitri wouldn't let him do anything drastic to her. she haaaaates how Dimitri had been trying to get her to tone down#but in this case. Moritori is under the same rules. Hide behind Dimitri just this once.#I think that Lien-Da and Moritori had an interesting relationship. She looked to him as a father#and he did love her as his granddaughter. but also that man is fucked up five ways from friday. He is using her as his pawn.#and he is not a nice man. so when she strays from what he wants her to do... hmmm...#And Moritori can't stand Julie-Su at ALL. He was neutral. but then she got annoying. Now he's just like... As soon as Dimitri isnt looking..#... It's amusing to me that Dimitri is the one who actually likes her. Poor ju-su#meeeeh.#I'm exhausted and braindrained.#I should have taken my wheelchair to London#I think Julie-Su has a lot of internal cybernetics. I like to ignore that one SSS where she takes her boots off and think her legs are#cybernetic. I think her spine is reinforced and half of her muscles are cables. because I sed so#ok now do it to me too
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Ever have that one idea that you're obsessed with?
#like me#right now#cant sleep#all because of a sweater idea#i want the knives out sweater#but in crochet#because i cant knit#but i have to test things first#so now my mind is running wild#with how to get the cabling right#so many stitch possibilities#knives out#chris evans sweater#knives out jumper#knives out sweater#crochet#crochetblr#icrochetthings
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They need to invent a knitting socks that doesnât make me want to stab myself in the eye
#iâm really trying to enjoy myself here and for the most part i Am enjoying myself#knitting the cuff feels pretty mindless and the heel is super satisfying to do#i hate picking up stitches for the gusset and doing gusset shaping/decreases because i always manage to fuck something up#and just.. above all; i donât think thereâs a sock knitting method iâm happy with#dpns are so dramatic and i always get ladders#magic loop cables always find a way to irritate me by being too stiff#i have a 9ââ circular on the way allegedly. hopefully. but i watched some videos and it seems annoying to use#you need to do magic loop or dpns for the toe and probably the heel anyway so i slightly feel like whatâs the point??#might as well get a better magic loop needle with better joins & a softer cable and just do everything on that#for the most part i do like making socks though. i like the yarn and the fact that the project stays small#and i like having socks at the end of it#i do get too stressed about my socks matching. iâve tried to make them two at a time and i just cannot#so i make them one at a time and then when i make weird mistakes on the first sock iâm like well. asymmetrical socks#my plan was to make everyone socks for christmas but i think itâs a TAD ambitious lol#since iâm going to basically just be making socks for myself until i have these techniques down pat#âbut ellen havenât you been knitting for like 18 years how have you been defeated by a sockââ i DONâT want to talk about it#(okay i dropped a stitch during gusset shaping and somehow didnât notice until it had undone itself for like 6 rows but the stitches either#side had repaired the gap⊠so i had to unpick a Lot of knitting to finally fix it#and then i had the wrong number of stitches on one of my needles so basically i have a weird number of decrease rows now. and iâm certain#that my socks wonât match! i hate it heeeere)#personal
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finished my final paper wooo
#leeâs bullshit#now all i have left to do really is study for The Test. im Scared for that tho fr .#like i can identify an arch !! a cable structure even !! but please please dont make me do physics on the spot [redacted] please -#scary stuff out here. have i started studying yet no absolutely not . will i also probably no not until tomorrow. <3#anyway. going to have dinner now i guess. what i rly want is ice cream but ive started to realize how much i crave sugar constantly#and thats like. a bit Bad. howeevr what can a girl really do.#maybe i pull a Summer of 2023 and quit cold turkey and just change my whole diet again. that went moderately well last time tbh.#(quitting gluten fully has made me incredbily senstitive to it now however i do also feel so much better generally. yay !)#anyway im still yapping i need to go. maybe ill have ice cream after all i deserve it <- holding onto shred of sanity.#mayhaps its a bit of that tism in me but i have thus far been generally unfazed by the break up which is probably worrying.#but also like . Ive seen this coming for months ive had time 2x to come to peace w all of it. it j wasnt happening anymore and thats fine !#but it will no doubt be a ???? moment to anyone else when i talk abt it w a relatively straight face.like maybe ill break down but i doubti#its kinda always been like this tho so interesting to see it seems to be similar w friendships and relationships. ig that makes sense.
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the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?
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You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.
Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.
I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!
Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.
âWe can ask someone for help,â you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.
Simon grunts and crosses his arms. âNo.â
Sometimes Simonâs stubbornness is cuteâeven sexyâbut right now youâre just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.
âExcuse me.â
The manâs head perks up. âHow can I help you?â
You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simonâs chest. âMy boyfriendââ
âBoyfriend?â growls Simon, but you ignore him.
ââcanât decide on a television.â
Simon is not your boyfriend. Heâs your husband. But heâs being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.
Shifting, you place one hand on Simonâs large bicep, grinning like you havenât done anything at all. Simonâs hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.
âI can help with that,â replies the associate. You glance at the manâs nametag. Jim.
âThank you so much, Jim.â You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. âGetting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?â
Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simonâs hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.
âWhat are you doing?â he whispers.
You elbow Simon in the side but itâs not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simonâs gaze switching to you every so often.
You already know what heâs thinking. Heâll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.
Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then youâre pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simonâs massive form.
âBoyfriend?â he accuses.
You shrug. âWhat do you mean?â
The growl in Simonâs throat comes out a groan. âGet in the car.â He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.
As you start to slide in, Simonâs hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.
âSimon!â
He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. âYou donât need these.â You feel your face growing hot.
Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driverâs side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. âWhen we get home, Iâm fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.â
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
âIâm so sorry, but this isnât what my boyfriend ordered.â
Kyle frowns and glances up from his phoneâs screen. Thatâs your voice he hears, but the term of address isnât right.
Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.
Kyle glances in your direction but youâre not looking at him. Youâre smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.
âIt should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. Iâm so sorry. I can pay for another.â You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesnât appear fazed at all.
âNo biggie. Keep that one. Wonât take me more than a minute or two.â
âThank you so much.â You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.
Youâre being a tease. Youâre doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and youâre using this as an excuse to poke at him.
Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think youâre going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him thatâs entirely what you have in mind.
But the joke is on you. Doesnât matter if you refer to him as âboyfriend,â because all itâll earn you is a punishment.
As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. âThank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.â
The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.
As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.
âBoyfriend?â he asks, amused.
You shake your head like you have no idea what heâs on about. âWhat?â
Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. âCan you set these aside for us? Be right back.â
They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.
Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.
âKyle,â you hiss, but heâs not having any of it.
Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.
âYou owe me an apology,â he says.
âFor what?â Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. âGet on your knees,â he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. âApologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.â
John Price
John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.
House hunting isnât something heâs particularly excited about. He is happy that itâs with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isnât the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.
Heâd live in a tent if thatâs what you want.
âMy boyfriend isnât all that picky.â
Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isnât your boyfriend. Heâs your goddamn husband.
You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when youâre trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. Youâre not looking at him. Youâre staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.
John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.
This time, John didnât mishear you.
Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You donât even react. Donât event blink.
No. Heâs going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.
The realtor pivots the computer monitor. âI think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.â
Thatâs fucking it.
Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. âI need to speak with myââ John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. âGirlfriend. Privately.â
The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.
âBoyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?â John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.
You shrug. âWhatâs the problem?â
âBehave yourself,â he says, lowering his voice.
âOr what?â you ask in mock innocence.
So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. Youâre fucking teasing him. Fine. Heâll make you learn.
âWe are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then weâre leaving.â
âNo. I want to stay.â
John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. âGood girls donât play games.â
âFunny,â you reply, head tilting slightly. âThat as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.â
John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. âI will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.â
âYou wonât,â you stammer.
John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. âWant to test me?â
You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. âYouâre terrible.â
As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. âYou started it.â
John "Soap" MacTavish
âMy boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.â
Johnnyâs attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.
Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?
âThatâs wonderful,â comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. âWhere is he?â
âOver there,â you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.
Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.
âSir?â prompts the hardware store associate. âWhat do you think of these?â
Johnny grunts. âFine. Weâll come back.â He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.
Youâre doing it on purpose. Youâre doing it to annoy him.
And itâs fucking working.
Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.
âThis is the boyfriend,â you begin, smiling.
âHusband,â corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. âHappily married to this one.â
The older womanâs eyes round.
âShe likes to joke,â continues Johnny. âCome on, love. Better get home.â
Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. âYou little terror.â
âBite me,â you reply.
âOh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.â
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thereâs no polite way to tell my mom i need her to stop giving me errands or leave me alone for five seconds and yes i am having a break down over it
#personal#am i crying bc my#mom told me sheâs having some people come by the house to fix the cable yes yes i am#it just kinda fucks up a plan i had today which#i havenât been able to do bc my room was a mess but now thatâs itâs clean i was gonna dedicate myself to jsf relaxing and doing this#and she says they should be done before my plans with gg but how funny would it be if they ruin that too#and she always springs shit on me no warning ESPECIALLY if i have plans with gg and i doubt itâs on purpose but iâm so upset#and every night is like she needs something or weâre taking about something until bam its 11 or midnight and i have maybe a few hours b4#i have to work or even if itâs a day off it took over an hour and a half to get to my dinner after serving it#and thatâs before how long it took to actually just get my dinner#or how iâll be in a room and she wonât acknowledge me TILL iâm like hey im gonna go and iâm walking away#i had to say five times im going to use the rest room before i could actually leave and do that#and no she wasnât forcing me there but getting up and then her needing me to come back it interrupts the process a little#and i just sent such a huge rant to gg and audrey with audio bits and im so annoying so add that to crying pile#i feel like iâm being a huge baby but also really want to tell my mom to leave me alone a bit#i donât think iâve even started my grieving process just cause itâs a constant motion of doing something
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Everyone gets âThe 90sâ look wrong and I hate it
Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldnât tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didnât think too much of it.
Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...
Goddammit theyâre identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.
Look, I know Iâm late to the party to complain about âthe 90s lookâ when weâre just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But câmon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part TwoâąÂ
Trust me when I say that we werenât all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldnât stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.
Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.
Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.
Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell somethingâs influenced by Memphis design from itâs telltale trademarks:
Clashing, neon colors.
Use of diametric shapes.
Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.
It wasnât long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:
It was a special time, yes.
I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:
I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trendâs expiration date.Â
Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.
Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally Iâm a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasnât a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.
So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This partâs up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:
Itâs that grunge music from Seattle thatâs so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.
Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.
Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.
I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:
1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maulâs lungs.
Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?
Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.
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