#''24 hour drive thru'' out of my head

[gummybugg]

Imagine a bunch of your OCs going to the movies. What kind of movies would your different OCs end up watching? (Nothing specific, just genre/vibes.) Do they go to the same flick, watch different stuff? How do they behave once in their seats? Basically, I wanna know what going to the movies with your OCs would be like.

Hi hi hello!

I kept this ask for far too long and planned to write an Entire Scene out using the cast of Crater City, except it never came to fruition! But I can try to describe to the best of my ability what I had in mind, hehe!

...

For sure, Frasier would pay for everyone's tickets (except for Darcy because he's mean), and they would probably go watch the Lego Batman movie together because I said so.

Blair and Elijah would sit in the very back, top row. Blair would talk and giggle the whole time, making crude jokes or references while Elijah tries so hard not to laugh or encourage him, but he can't cant really help it. There's a 90% chance Blair winds up making coke shoot out of Elijah's nose after a batman x joker ship comment.

Darcy and Frasier would sit closer to the front/bottom row of the theater to get away from those idiots. Darcy is pissed Blair said something potentially spoiler-y before the movie started by Frasier is like, "Chill tf out, man, it's literally just a kid's movie." But Darcy wants his money's worth, goddammit.

Frasier is also busy trying to tell Blair and Elijah to stfu (via glares/hand motions) and to let them enjoy the movie and that they don't need security kicking them out of a flick again.

Meanwhile, Darcy has trouble with a teenager kicking his seat (totally not based on a true story). Frasier is like bro chill tf out, you're being louder than Blair and Elijah rn, stop fighting with a teenager. The teens just call Darcy old and that he looks like a poorly AI rendered image of Timothée Chalamet, which he takes offense to.

"Forty is not old, I'm not even close middle-aged yet!" Darcy is agitated.

"You have about 10 more years." The teen retorts.

"Oh, you wanna argue about the sudden spike in average human lifespan over the past fifty years? Because we can go there—"

"Darcy! Are you really arguing with a kid about your age in a movie theater? Stop being so immature." Frasier is so close to pulling the "idk who this man is but he's not mine" card but decides he's the only responsible adult here and can't back out.

Anyway, security has been called, and Darcy is definitely not having it. He wages a verbal battle with security, disturbing everyone else in the cinema, and embarrassing Elijah and Frasier in the process. He goes on about his hardships as mayor and having to deal with an impudent worm kicking his seat from behind (which security couldn't give 2 shits about). Darcy says something along the lines of "We paid for this movie and you'll have to fight my lawyers and I'm the mayor dammit," and so security backs off. Now everyone else in the Lego Batman movie theater is disgruntled at the disturbance. You can cut the tension with a super sharp knife.

Darcy turns to Blair and Elijah, who promptly stfu bc of his death glare. Frasier is concerned that Darcy raised more hell than it's worth all for a shitty movie, but tbh Darcy just likes to use his mayor card.

After the movie ends, they get up to leave, with all eyes on them until they make it to the parking lot. It also turns out that that thing Blair said off hand ended up being a spoiler, and Frasier almost beats the shit out of him, but this time Darcy is the one who has to hold him back. "It's ok, Frasier! We all saw it coming anyway!"

The teens who bullied Darcy come out of the theater to mock him again, but Fraiser flips them off, then security is called once again. And now all 4 of our characters are stuck at the police station with Darcy trying to bail them out, all the while Frasier glares at all three of them with disappointment. Blair is like, "This is definitely going on my 'pissed authority off' bingo board." Elijah rolls his eyes. At least they weren't in any mortal danger, he reasons.

...

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[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley intended to take care of a few important things while he had the week off from work, but a quick visit to base brought with it a change of plans.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, spanking, 18+

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

The following day, instead of dressing in a uniform or flight suit, Bradley pulled on jeans and a tropical print shirt while he watched you get yourself ready for work.

"You look cute," he murmured as you wiggled into a dress and some simple flats. "And I like it that you're officially living here now instead of just staying for a few days."

"The commute is not ideal," you told him immediately. "But this is." You placed your hand on his abs before giving him the sweetest kiss that left him soft inside. "This is ideal."

Fuck. He was so in love it was insane. As soon as he was back in your presence for a few hours, having sex and eating pasta, he could barely remember how miserable he'd been on that deployment. It was like nothing else mattered as long as he kept coming back to you.

"Let me pack your lunch," he whispered, tilting your chin up for another one of those kisses. Then he was on his way to the kitchen before he could make you late for school. Before he got home, you filled the refrigerator with everything he liked to eat, and he inhaled two yogurts and some peanut butter toast while he made your sandwich. 

The notes you opened from the box he sent were on the kitchen counter, and he smiled. Nat covered for him big time on Christmas Eve so he could make that happen. He was excited to get to see her when he stopped by North Island, but he had to get you to work first.

"You don't need to drop me off. It's so far out of the way," you told him as you appeared with your tote bag. "I'll drive myself."

When he pouted, you laughed. "Come on, Gorgeous. I want to. I need to stop on base anyway."

"Oh, can you remind Marty and Nat about Career Day?" you asked, holding your bag open for your lunch.

"Nat's coming, too? You'll have the whole of the Navy there, Baby."

"The kids would love that."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "As long as I'm still the favorite."

"You're irreplaceable," you promised.

You weren't exaggerating one bit when you said the commute was a killer. Bradley hummed along to the radio and held your hand, barely making it through the Starbucks drive-thru line and up to your school before the last minute that you needed to be there.

"I love you. Bye," you told him, kissing him quickly before jumping out the passenger door and running up the sidewalk with your enormous drink in one hand. He was absolutely addicted to the coffee now as well, and after he was sure you made it inside, he sipped his own cup as he drove back down the highway.

It was strange to be going through the guard gates this late in the morning, and when he approached the hangar in his street clothes, he heard Nat's voice and sassy whistle immediately. 

"Looking good, Rooster. Did you forget to do your laundry? Did you forget what time work started while you were deployed?" she called, and he made a point to mess up her hair when she gave him a tight hug. "You're the worst."

"I missed you too, Nat," he told her with a laugh. "Thanks for looking after my girl."

She shrugged and said, "I'm always in the market for drinking wine and talking about you behind your back. Plus, she's actually great. Hanging out with her is the best."

"Yeah," he replied, laughing harder. "That's why I want to do it all the time. I intend to do it forever."

One of her dark eyebrows shot up, and she smirked as she said, "Like forever, forever?"

He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but engagement rings are expensive." Natasha screeched and punched him in the shoulder. "Why are you like this?" he asked as she smacked him several times and jumped around excitedly.

Bradley was saved from being attacked when Maverick walked in with his familiar clipboard in hand and a frown on his face. "Phoenix, you're supposed to be in the tower. Rooster, welcome back. Why aren't you dressed?"

"My vacation days got approved," Bradley replied as Natasha quietly crept away. "I'm off the rest of the week. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"It's probably in my emails." Maverick's frown faded away as he pulled Bradley in for a hug. "I was a little worried for a minute there that you'd end up back in Norfolk." He slapped him on the back. "If you're off all week, why are you here?"

Bradley chuckled. "I just wanted to see everyone. Like you said, I was a little worried about Norfolk, too."

Maverick eyed him closely. "And did I hear you say something about an engagement ring?"

It wasn't like there was anything to hide. Bradley figured it was pretty obvious to everyone by now that his relationship with you was the real deal. Hell, Maverick even compared it to his own parents. "Yeah, I'm going to buy one this month. I just need to juggle some finances around to make sure I can get her something really pretty. But I'm going to start looking today."

A slow nod turned into a beaming smile, and then Maverick said, "Before you do anything, I have something you might want to know about."

-----------------------------

You were dead on your feet at work. Staying up half the night making love and snuggling left you with a smile on your face, but you couldn't stop yawning. Your students noticed right away as you drained your coffee and groaned when the bell rang signaling the start of class.

"Did you have a hard time sleeping?" Jayden asked.

"A little bit," you replied, remembering the way you had to keep pinching yourself to make sure Bradley's strong arm wrapped around you all night was real.

"Was there a loud noise that kept you up?" Nia asked.

You tried not to snort as you thought about Bradley's moans and grunts in your ear as he fucked you from behind. "Something like that. It's time to review our spelling words."

Even though you insisted that Bradley didn't need to drive you to work, he did, and he promised he'd be back right on time to pick you up at the end of the day. But he was such a liar. He arrived at your classroom fifteen minutes before dismissal time with rosy cheeks and eighteen envelopes.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw's here!" Nia called out when your boyfriend knocked on the door before slipping inside. 

He made a beeline right to you, placing a rather innocent kiss on your cheek. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drop these off," he said, holding up the envelopes. The top one had Jackie's name on it, and your heart soared. Butterflies took off. You had to work really hard not to kiss him again.

"We don't mind," you told him, and you watched him pass out the individual notes he must have written for your students while he was deployed. All eyes were on him as he walked around your classroom, delivering envelopes and answering questions.

"When did you get home from the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Was the food good on the aircraft carrier?"

"Are you coming back for Career Day on Friday?"

Bradley took everything in stride like he always did, but his eyes returned to yours frequently, and his flushed cheeks left you feeling dizzy.

"I got home yesterday," he said, voice deep and commanding as he set the last of his envelopes down on Violet's desk. "The food was terrible. So bad. Nothing like the Pacific Fleet. Nowhere near as good as what you ate on your field trip to North Island. I'm thinking about writing a letter to complain."

"You should," Violet told him seriously. "Yummy, balanced meals are so important."

"You're so right," he replied with a nod. "And yes, I'll be back on Friday for Career Day. Your teacher worked so hard on it, I wouldn't miss it for anything." You were gripping the edge of your desk now as he smiled at you.

"I didn't know you were allowed to wear anything except your uniforms," marveled Oliver.

Bradley looked down at his patterned shirt and laughed. "Should I stick with the flight suit for Friday?"

Then the dismissal bell rang, and your kids started to scramble. You usually had them packed up and ready to go a few minutes early, but Bradley was clearly more exciting than the end of the school day. 

"Don't forget about the spelling test tomorrow!" you called out as they all exited the room in a mass of chaos after high fiving your boyfriend. "Thanks for surprising us," you said as you spun to face him.

"Thanks for being so perfect that I can't stay away from you."

Your cheeks blazed with warmth as you ducked against his chest. Muscular arms wrapped you up in a hug as you muttered, "Did you remind Natasha and Marty about Friday?"

"Mmhmm."

"And did you get to see Maverick?"

He paused before squeezing you a little tighter and kissing the top of your head. "Uh, yes. I did. Now will you let me take you home so I can get back to my busy schedule of eating delicious food, napping and fucking you senseless?"

---------------------------

Bradley spent the following day unpacking more of your stuff while you were at work. You had all these fancy things he needed to make room for. Like an air fryer. And a rice cooker. Things he would have never used otherwise, but he didn't mind having them here now. 

He took breaks to read from the journal you kept while he was away, often smiling and laughing at what you'd written in your daily log. It was no wonder he fell in love with you through your writing; you were just the same as you were in person and so authentic this way. Then he read about the day you helped Edith with some chores, and he sprawled out on the couch with a groan.

You were the sweetest thing in his life. One time, Vanessa told him that Edith was annoying and only wanted attention. He rolled his eyes then, and he rolled them again now. She was elderly. Of course she wanted attention. But Bradley knew she also had arthritis, and helping her with yard work was fast and painless for him. He couldn't imagine you saying anything like that.

Bradley slipped into a hazy daydream, thinking about how he wanted to propose to you as his feet hung over the end of the couch. He wasn't going to last long now, and he knew it. Not with that ring tucked away in a Zip-lock bag which was duct taped underneath the bathroom sink vanity behind the pipes. If nothing else, he knew it was there, and he could rip it down any time he felt like asking you to marry him, but he wanted it to be special. Really special.

Maybe he could write something for you. Maybe he should take you out to dinner again. There had to be a way to make it just right so you couldn't say no.

After a few more minutes of indulging in the fantasy of having you as his wife, he stood up and attempted to use the air fryer to make lunch. Pretty soon he gave up and made a sandwich instead before walking next door to knock on Edith's door.

"Bradley!" she said, pulling the door open for him. "You're home. Your girlfriend told me you were deployed earlier this month."

"I just got back on Monday. A little bruised, but no worse for the wear," he told her with a smile. "I wanted to see if you needed help with anything."

"Oh, your sweet girlfriend already changed my light bulbs for me," she told him. Then she lowered her voice and smirked. "She's a looker."

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "She's Gorgeous. She also moved in with me, so if I'm not home and you need something, you can always ask her, okay?" 

Edith fretted her hands, and Bradley leaned back out the open front door, knowing she wouldn't agree to his help unless she paid him in some way. Truthfully, he really did feel like playing the piano anyway. "It looks like you've got some weeds that need to be pulled, and your downspout is loose again. How about you think of a cool song to teach me, and I'll be back in like fifteen minutes?"

He ducked outside before she could answer, but he could hear her tapping away at the piano keys as he yanked some dried up weeds out of the soft soil. While he worked, he pictured the sheet music that Edith kept stacked up inside the piano bench, and he started to come up with an idea. The more he thought about the pages stacked up in his own house, the more he liked his plan. 

He was all smiles when he sat down for her to teach him how to play a Bob Dylan classic, and he was still whistling the tune when he went to pick you up from work.

---------------------------

On Thursday night, Bradley had you snuggling on top of him on the couch when you should have really been going over your final plans for Career Day. "You are such a distraction," you whispered, arms and legs wrapped up with his to keep warm since you were wearing nothing but his old sweatshirt.

His fingers flexed on the back of your thigh as he smirked and turned his head to face you instead of the TV. "And you're the best for helping me relax all week." His breath was warm on your cheek, and he kissed you there, saying, "Don't stress about tomorrow. It'll be perfect."

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder. "I still have to put all of my guests in order. I need to schedule the most impressive presentation last, for the grand finale."

"Okay, so put me last then, Gorgeous."

You grinned and tried not to giggle. "I was actually thinking Marty."

Bradley's hand slid up from your thigh, smoothing over your butt, and you knew what was coming even before you clenched with need. Bradley smacked you one time, and you moaned as he soothed away the sting with his palm. You were instantly aroused, fingers tingling and ears burning. Bradley's dark eyes were wide, searching your face, questioning what he should do next. When you nodded once, he grunted, and that big hand landed on you again, breaking the silence.

"Fuck," you gasped, rear end stinging as Bradley cupped and squeezed you, pulling you a few inches up his body so he could kiss you. His cock was getting hard in his gym shorts, pressing against your belly, driving you wild.

"You like that?" he whispered between heated kisses, but you barely wanted to take the time to breathe.

"Yes," you replied, mouth mashing against his. Both of his hands came up to your waist, yanking the sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor. Then your lips were back on his as you moaned into his mouth.

The sex had been so sweet since he got home, and neither of you could be blamed for wanting so much of it after going so long without. But this was something else. Bradley's fingers dug into your flesh, and his kisses were rough. Demanding. You spread your legs a little wider, arching your back, silently begging for him to spank you again.

He did not disappoint.

You were aching, whining his name, enthralled by the cocky smirk on his face and the possessiveness in his eyes. "You want more, Gorgeous?" he asked, voice dark as his smirk grew. When you nodded vigorously, he kissed your lips so softly before he said, "You'll schedule me last for Career Day? I think it's where I belong, since I'm the most impressive."

Oh my god. He was playing with you now. You knew he wasn't actually jealous of Marty or Nat or any of the classroom parents, but he knew that you knew that your students would always think he was the most impressive. You would, too.

When you tried to kiss him, he pulled his face away from yours as he stroked your tender rear end with his fingertips. "Yes," you promised, "I'll put you last. You're the most impressive."

"Good girl." 

You gasped as he spanked you one more time, then he kissed you before pushing you up so you were straddling his thighs. When he yanked down his gym shorts, you were treated to the sight of his cock, thick and hard, smacking against his abs.

"Clearly I think you're impressive," he grunted, licking his thumb before running it along your swollen clit. It took no more coaxing before you had your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding him right where you wanted. You sank down on him, already a mess as he thrust up into you, hard.

"Bradley!" His hands were on your breasts, cupping you as he bucked his hips up again.

"Look at you," he rasped, fucking you rough while his hands were gentle. You bounced up and down, bracing yourself awkwardly on the too small couch. "Where do you want me to touch you?" he asked, eyes glued on your face and body. "Show me."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his right wrist and moved his hand back to your butt. "A little more," you told him, voice shaking as he fucked you so good. Then he spanked you again and again, and you could feel it everywhere as you cried out. 

It was too much and not enough, and you bit your lip as he alternated between soothing you and spanking you until you were shaking, orgasm building. "Baby, you look and feel too good like this," he whined, wrapping his hands around your hips. "I'm so close."

But you were already there. You came as you leaned down and kissed him, those big hands sliding up, stroking your shoulders and neck as gently as you were used to while your ass tingled. You were making some wild sounds as you rode him until he filled you with his cum, then the two of you were panting in unison as your forehead came to rest against his.

You could feel him smiling, mustache brushing your lips as he said, "That was fun. Didn't know you would like it so much."

You moaned and said, "I'm as surprised as you are. And I'll put you last tomorrow. You're the grand finale. Obviously."

"Obviously," he agreed. "Just keep in mind, I'll be more than happy to spank you when you give me a hard time like that again." His lips found the side of your neck, his cock was still inside you as he murmured, "Got it?"

"Oh, loud and clear."

He chuckled, nipping along your skin as your butt throbbed a bit. You didn't want to move, but his stomach started loudly growling. Carefully, you started to sit up, brushing your fingers through his hair as you said, "It's been hours since you ate. Let's find something in the kitchen."

When you stood on wobbly legs, Bradley stayed lounging on the couch, guiding you and turning you so he could place one soft kiss on the spot on your butt where he had spanked you. Then he got to his feet as well, picked up the sweatshirt, and put it back on you.

He kissed the back of your neck and told you he never wanted to leave you again while you made him a grilled cheese sandwich. "Love you too much," he muttered, hand on your thigh as his leg brushed your tender rear end.

You thought about the weeks he was deployed without communication and how awful it was, but this right here was worth it. Making love in bed and rough sex on the couch. Learning what makes each other tick and sharing meals and enjoying how good it feels to have him hold you. All worth it.

When the sandwich was ready, you cut it into four triangles and took a small bite out of one before holding it up for him to eat it. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered, finishing it in one bite before you fed him the second one and then the third in similar fashion. He was finishing the last piece when he wrapped his arms around you and said, "Okay, Gorgeous, now I'm ready to help you get organized for Career Day before bed."

You laughed. "I just need to write a few things down and pick out an outfit."

"Oh. I wouldn't wear anything too tight," he suggested, smirking once more. "You're about to be sore tomorrow."

---------------------------------

Okay, Maverick. Okay. Career Day is up next, and I need something nice to be there for Marty. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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[akaakeis]

going on a drive with them -- multi .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing(s) : bokuto kōtarō, kuroo tetsurō, suna rintarō, sakusa kiyoomi, and kiyoko shimizu x gn!reader (separate!!)

wc : ~200 each .ᐟ

notes//cw : happy 300 posts !! this is me brain dumping bc i haven't posted any writing lately,, food is mentioned in suna's and kuroo's,, they are the ones driving in this hc- let me know if u want a ver. w the reader driving!,, i think that's it tho!! lmk if i missed anything <3

𖥔  oh gosh... a car ride with kōtarō bokuto is never dull.

𖥔  he loves randomly taking you out for drives!!

𖥔  he's gonna keep a hand on you AT ALL TIMES!! like he'll either have it on your leg or you'll both be resting your arms on the compartment between the seats, holding hands.

𖥔  he will BEG you to take the aux cause he loves your music taste <3

𖥔  if he knows the song well enough he will sing along as you two drive!!

𖥔  not simply singing along though...

𖥔  he will lock in and shout out those lyrics, eventually getting you to sing along with him

𖥔  he probably took you out for the drive a bit before the sunset... yes he planned that!! but akaashi suggested the time LMAO

𖥔  when the sun starts to set, you guys drive into an empty area by the side of the road, and you guys get out of the car

𖥔  and he'll get you both up on the roof of the car!! he brought blankets and stuff too

𖥔  the two of you just sit on the roof of the car and watch the sunset together, all huddled up in the blankets he brought <33

𖥔  on the drive back home, you play softer music and yap about your days together :)

𖥔  it's not a drive with tetsurō kuroo unless it's a late night!!

𖥔  he would be trying to fall asleep but fail miserably, resorting to just waking you up 😭

𖥔  "wanna go drive thru somewhere?"

𖥔  you, in a half-awake state mutter an agreement, getting out of bed and into the car

𖥔  he'll hold your hand as you guys drive and you take the aux out of habit

𖥔  it's safe to say you guys end up having a full on karaoke session in the car once you wake up a bit more!!

𖥔  you guys drive through some random 24hr drive thru and pull into the (extremely empty, desolate even) parking lot to eat your food

𖥔  the two of you end up chilling in the car for the rest of the night!! you use your phone and pull up a show the two of you have been watching and you prop it up on the dash of the car LMAOO

𖥔  so the night turns into a binge watching of some tv series accompanied by a drive thru and some karaoke!!

𖥔  "oh my god we have morning classes tomorrow."

𖥔  yeah maybe it wasn't the best idea BUT AT LEAST IT WAS A LOT OF FUN!!

𖥔  you both end up speeding home and knocking out asap in an attempt to get some rest before pounding your head with information right when you wake up

𖥔  yeah... rintarō suna only takes you on late night drives too.

𖥔  he would randomly start spam texting you in the middle of the night saying "let's go to (some 24 hour drive thru)"

𖥔  and you were still awake so why not?

𖥔  he has a DEATHGRIP on having the aux... in the car, don't expect to get the aux unless he's converted you into a severe underground music glazer.

𖥔  he'll be playing the most unknown songs to mankind... but they're honestly pretty good!!

𖥔 it's a pretty chill car ride, honestly

𖥔  you'll be leaning over on his shoulder and just vibing out w the music

𖥔  he'd be telling you about the song and the artist too :))

𖥔  when you're done with that car ride you will have like... 5 new music artists that you like

𖥔  anyway you guys go through the drive thru pretty quick and you head straight home!!

𖥔  once ygs get home you go to his room and continue listening to his playlist and chat while you eat your food <3

𖥔  it ends up becoming a gossip session LMAO

𖥔  ALSO!! you guys pull an all nighter together

𖥔  kiyoomi sakusa took you out for a drive because you weren't able to sleep <3

𖥔  he thought that going for a drive would help to calm your nerves and make you sleepy

𖥔  honestly he was right because he's a really good driver... the ride wasn't bumpy at all!!

𖥔  he holds onto your hand as you guys drive and he lets you use the aux- you opt for calmer music so that he enjoys it too :)

𖥔  he also tells you about his day since he knows you like the sound of his voice

𖥔  just random yapping so that you get to listen to him talk... his voice is so soothing!!!

𖥔  did i mention when he's holding onto your hand he's running his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand

𖥔  he doesn't notice at first when you fall asleep but when he does? he shuts up and and finds himself smiling at how cute you look when you're asleep

𖥔  he drives back home and carries you into the house, putting you into bed before crawling in after you

𖥔  it was a super duper peaceful night <33

𖥔  kiyoko shimizu had a plan before taking you out for a drive!!

𖥔  she didn't tell you anything and was purposely vague about where you would both be going <3

𖥔  LITTLE DID YOU KNOW!!! THE AURORA BOREALIS WAS GOING TO BE VISIBLE THAT NIGHT!!!

𖥔  she took you out for the drive when the sun was setting, and you guys were aimlessly driving around for about an hour while listening to music on the radio <3

𖥔  you guys got to chat a lot during the drive, and for the entirety of that time, she had one of your hands pulled onto her lap as she drove!! <3

𖥔  when the lights were finally showing up in the sky you guys were in a very rural area, just so that you could see it better

𖥔  the two of you sat on the hood of the car and watch the lights until they went away <3

𖥔  and!!! you guys were cuddled up and sharing a blanket that she always keeps in the back seat of her car for you :)

𖥔  you took a bunch of pictures of the lights- mostly her, but also a couple of the lights-

𖥔  while you guys were watching the lights, you ended up talking about your plans for the future and how she was a part of them <3

𖥔  it was a very soft night for you guys!!

notes :: 

okay i kept giggling while i wrote this 

i love hcs because you dont have to expand on them its just what it is

happy 300 posts!! (im not even at 100 followers yet BYE IM A SPAM POSTER!! I CANT HELP IT!!)

if you enjoyed this, please consider checking out my masterlist!

and following maybe 😋 

btw requests are always welcome!! id love to write stuff for you guys <3

have a lovely morning/afternoon/night!!

🏷️ :: @bokukos + @iiwaijime <3 (i just realized i messed up your user... sorry alina!! 😭)

[annieqattheperipheral]

Ok just watched episode 3: learning to win. sway vs. mchucky

This episode was crafted so well. Gave us the introverted intellectual vulnerable hearthrob musician vs. the boisterous popular shit-talking quarterback jock storyline.

Since i like neither the bruins nor panthers it was more like watching a fun sports movie and letting the characters make me fall in love with them with those tropes in place. I really do compartmentalize how i interact with these teams and their players so ok let's break it down, here's how my heart and head battles it out:

Bruins? A bigass boo from this leafs fan. I hate them on principle just for that, for a generational og6 rivalry. But. But i respect their locker room. Their leaders have created a cohesive unit i envy tf out of for generations past present and future. They're a good group of ppl ...with a shittastic front office of old world hockeymen. Sorry to bruins fans for having to deal with that bs

Panthers? Another huge groan but for both personal reasons and the leafs thing. Yea kicked leafs ass in playoffs '23 round 2 but that's like whatever (that was leafs own doing, didn't bring it. or anything really). It's that personally i hate their style of play, it takes the fun out of watching the skill and speed of hockey. I can't abide by the dirty shit, just makes it un-fun for me.

Ok this is where it gets weird. Let's talk about the people

mtkachuk: i love him, i loved him with the flames, i love him still. Amazing kind gracious funny personable. But put him on the ice with the panthers and who? Who dis? No sir i do not know this man. I cannot explain why my brain does this but it's the only way i know how to enjoy Matthew while also having disgust for the panthers playing style. I mean maybe this is how/why we love/hate the teams we do. It hits the right or wrong chords in your own heart. So yea, that's the logic, rational or not.

Paul Maurice: i love this man and if i knew him in real life like maybe my uncle or someone, i would chat with him for hours during a family dinner party like i do with my favourite relatives who i respect so much. His interviews hug me to the core. He fascinates me with his clarity on life. I don't agree with what he has his players do, but i respect tf outta his drive and purpose and how he leads. Once again, a battle bw my heart and head *shrug*

Swayman: honestly i never paid much attention to him. I've never been a goalie crazy person so while i had classified him as one of the elite ones in the league, i wasn't ever taken by him (yes even thru all the cutesy goalie hugs). That said, it was really lovely getting to know him and what a beautiful voice. His dad was endearing as heck, reminded me of one of my colleagues. What a sweet gentle-hearted family, but also so tough mentally to get your kid into the nhl, while holding true to their vulnerable emotional side. Pretty fucking incredible i think. Sway got thru arbitration and used it as a checklist to drive himself further. Amazing. Fuck yea he's got an element of corniness to him but Matthew's corny as heck too in 24/7 florida frat boy party mode so whatever everyone's being their own true selves I'll embrace that.

I laughed very hard at the tkachuk family scenes. Good stuff. But hell no, no ty, i could not survive in that environment lmao. I do jokes yes, I'm usually the funniest person in social settings but i don't do shitting on each other stuff (why i hate hanging out with stand-up comics. improvisers tho? my favourite ppl, all about yes and'ing each other)

But all of that was great insight into the who what how why's of matthew and brady beyond any interview ever could. Pretty great what they've got going on. god how open those tkachuks can be with one another with sentiments disguised as insults and jokes, and not have feelings hurt. Ofc that family keeps on thriving. They can say anything to each other and know that they can fight back and still be supported. Like that's fuck awesome. I'm envious as hell. Just as i am tho, with how i was raised, i wouldn't survive them lol.

Lmao this epi review got loooong. Like i said,

fun sports movie vibe

Made me love sway and hate matthew lollll. I would show this to non-hockey ppl as a gateway into hockey.

Also someone pls tell matthew to get seat belts for his golf cart wtfffff!!! He's driving that shit on the road with actual cars!!! My heart could not take it😳

[harlowarchives]

chp 𝟐 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ! ୨ .  ˚ ໒꒱

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓:𝟎𝟎𝐚𝐦 — 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 hospital.

Sevyn was quickly pulled out of her sleep when she heard a loud cry, turning to see a sleeping Jack & a wailing Hope. Groaning Sevyn pushed herself out of bed and walked towards Hope, “Shh, don't wake Daddy, Pumpkin.” Sevyn pleaded as she swaddled Hope hearing the baby's cries lower and then watching Hope yawn before blinking repeatedly and dozing off.

Now Sevyn expected to fall asleep but instead, she was held awake staring at sleeping Jack & Hope praying she’d fall asleep soon the sun would come up & people would start moving around in the hospital and Jack would wake up. She listened as he groaned scratching his chest. “Girl,” Jack said shaking his head to clear his blurry vision “What are you doing up Sevyn?” Jack questioned confusion in his voice, “Hope woke me up, I've been up ever since.” She said standing up to check on Hope, “You need rest Sev, you were up for 24-plus hours yesterday.” Jack said placing his hand on Sevyn’s shoulder “I’ll be fine just ready to go home, ok?” she said before yawning and then patting his back “Alright, I'll start packing.” Jack responded throwing his hands up, he knew she’d knock out cold as soon they went home.

Jack packed up all of their belongings such as gifts, dirty clothes & other childcare products the hospital provided. Jack rubbed his face and then noticed Sevyn had been in the bathroom for 45-plus minutes.

“Sev! You good?” Jack questions gently knocking on the door. “I'm coming in,” he added unlocking the door, no way Jack thought to himself he just stared at Sevyn who was snoring on the toilet. Trying to contain his laughter, Jack pulled his phone out to quickly snap a picture then lifted her bridal style to her bed.

Jack finished packing up all of Sevyn’s belongings and gifts and then placed Hope in her stroller.

“Jack?” Sevyn said looking around the room, “Yea?” He smiled looking at Sevyn’s confused face. “You found me in the bathroom?” she questioned shaking her head as he laughed a bit “Knocked out cold, you hungry?” he asked as she glared at him “Is that a question?!” she said placing her feet on the ground.

The silence was louder than anything they'd said ever since Jack & Sevyn broke up they'd limit their words with each other which was so hard because they had some much in common & had such an extensive history dating back to middle school. Sevyn had made it “clear” to Jack that she wanted to distance herself from him and he had done the same or so they thought that was happening. But this distance would be even more difficult with Hope & silent co-parenting with a newborn would be impossible.

“Alright, I'm gonna get dressed,” Sevyn said flashing a small smile at Jack while he just nodded, Sevyn walked out of the bathroom wearing a beige bodysuit that hugged every curve on her slim physique. Jack sat on the bed while Hope gripped his finger “Alright let’s go.” Sevyn smiled as Jack turned around scanning every piece of her muttering “Damn.” trying to look away but was captivated by the way she glowed & her skin shimmered in the light. “Boy close your mouth.” Sevyn sneered rolling her eyes “I’m not even looking at you.” Jack lied, “Oh ok so you're admiring the light fixture.” She added sarcastically.

After they'd checked out of the hospital Sevyn and Jack sat in the drive-thru waiting for their food. “Here you go, sir—” the woman's facial expression changed “Oh, MY GOD! It's Jack Harlow.” The cashier squealed as Jack flashed a nervous smile watching the employees crowd the window “Is that your daughter?” a woman asked “Yes ma’am we have to take her home I’m sorry.” People began pulling out their phones and snapping pictures of the sleeping child “No pictures, please.” Sevyn smiled “Girl we don't care about the baby just you & Jack.” Jack & Sevyn broke out into laughter “Alright girl we might as well pose.” Sevyn shrugged taking the food from the cashier, posing for a picture then blowing a kiss at the employees as Jack pulled out of the drive-thru “Your fans are nuts.” Sevyn said shaking her head.

Jack flung the door open holding the food & Hope who was knocked out, “Jack bring her to the nursery please.” Sevyn pleaded to take the food from his hands he nodded walking up the stairs. Sevyn plopped on the couch groaning taking the food out of the bag & turning on the tv. Waiting for Jack “Sevyn where's my food?” He asked walking down the stairs and looking at sleeping Sevyn he rolled his eyes then spotted his food & began eating. Jack heard a knock at the door so he answered “Madeline.”

“Jack. Where's my grandchild? I'm here to see her.” Madeline smiled as Jack shook his head “She’s asleep and Sevyn is sleeping too and plus you know you're not wanted here.” Jack said peering at her, Sevyn’s mother was one of those people who think everything is about them she manages to make a show at every event involving Sevyn. She’s malicious & childish that was clear, “Jack I don't know why you think you can constantly disrespect me.” Madeline sneered. “What respect do you deserve your not a respectable person & you're not even respectful Sevyn didn't even acknowledge you yesterday for a reason neither did I.” Madeline stood still as if she was going to have a heart attack “Your disgusting Jackman.” Madeline snorted walking back to her car “Come back when you're ready to apologize and act like a grown woman, you can leave Hope’s gifts though!” Jack turned around to see Sevyn who was smiling, she walked toward Jack & embraced him. “You're still my best friend Sev.” Jack smiled but the worst was that he was lying yes he was her best friend but strictly friends wasn't right.

🏷️ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ⁱ : @lexxlovesjack @iknowdatsrightbih @iheartharlow @livsters @honeyharlows @killatravtramp @jackmanduh @itsyagirljaz

[haalfpipe]

pt. 2

For McDonald's, we never take my car.

Swipe to Monday morning. This is three days of convalescence after vomiting through ten pounds of body weight and this buzzing alarm from outside my head means work. On my nightstand is a clock radio, right beside the thick step four journal. It’s twenty years old. It’s ruined every morning since freshman year. Anymore, most people use their phones as alarm clocks.

Every night I'm standing at the bed and between pushing off my slippers and pulling back the comforter I grab this battery-heavy shell and start stabbing at buttons for the next morning. Even if I'm up at the same time, I'll set all the buttons again for the hour, minute, and annoying wake tone. After twenty years, the buttons feel soft, one more press and they’ll give out: one of the brassed plastic pill-shapes in the alarm panel, or a single digit on the keypad, or the klaxon-like tone of the alarm from wherever it plays inside. Last night I set it for the same time as today. And always it wakes me before the sound begins.

It's a click that jolts me back to the world. It's a subdued click from a Pez-sized switch inside the radio when it turns on before firing the buzzer. The sound of a light switch. Every morning since high school it's the first noise my brain remembers. My eyes are closed, still, seconds into the alarm playing. With the wail my brain spools up to process all recent inputs and from a dead silence the thump of this little relay starts my day.

Ann—this is my wife—she sleeps through it. When she and I are in the same bed it never bothers her.

For eight hours each night she’s perfectly on her back like a happy model in a mattress ad. Reading through alarmist social media from retirees hiding around our neighborhood suggests one day this might save us. Picture an overnight burglar breaking into our place, shining a flashlight down to the carpet in tight circles, inches from his shoes, until the beam slips down the hall to the open bedroom door and finds the head of a pallid cadaver wearing a smile. Ann might as well be grinning back with open eyes.

She’s on her back to protect the porcelain skin stretched across her cheekbones. This is a natural contour, the kind that looks best when supine, and not awake. The people who see her say to me she has clear, beautiful skin. Korean skin. She's not Korean. They always want to know how she does it. They want to know the date and time it happened and what cream she used on the day her skin cleared up. This isn’t on the calendar. It never cleared up because it was never blemished. What she does is hide from the sun while wearing sunscreen. She drinks eight glasses of water. She’s never smoked. She avoids alcohol. When she goes off-menu it’s with fruits, vegetables and whole grains.

This is never what people want to hear.

I don’t want to tell people the wrong thing. There’s more than this to great skin, most of it being money, but I’m not paying attention. I tell them, let me get back to you. Paying attention is easier when there’s something like a greasy hamburger waiting at the end of the day.

If I can make it, there’s a hamburger at the end of today.

This morning my fever has broken into cold wet bedding and what feels like a new back after 24 hours with no other respiratory or gastrointestinal presentation. I'm ready to return to work because it's Monday and that means McDonald's. It means I'll spend the next nine hours anticipating the drive-thru line in her passenger seat. This is every Monday and it's the best part of my week.

I got myself into this because I wanted something to look forward to.

Eight months ago was D-Day. Ann and I learned the term Clinically Isolated Syndrome, or CIS, the predecessor to clinically diagnostic multiple sclerosis (CDMS).

I’m telling myself I deserved this.

I thought at first it had been the monotony of work and mask-wearing in the petri dish of retail, which I've labored through for fifteen years. After so long, I don't feel tired. After so long, maybe I've forgotten how energy feels. How positivity feels. People suffering depression often manifest emotional contrast avoidance, so instead of allowing themselves to shift from a euphoric state to negative emotion, these listless even-keeled worriers prefer to maintain chronic distress to prepare for the worst outcomes.

What I'm prepared for is blood clots in my legs.

With this much standing and walking and lunging around hard floors for eight hours, five days a week, if your calf muscles aren't swollen like mine to the size of a competitive road cyclist, then they're probably swollen with edema. Next time you're out shopping, look for middle-aged store employees hiding bar-height folding chairs in their shadows and you'll spot the ones on diuretics.

After fifteen years I never get tired. I can wear stiff, uncomfortable shoes that look great and my feet never hurt. But last year, the teenagers in my shop started noticing me deflate halfway through the day.

I took more breaks.

For them, feet will hurt. Their legs are stiff. When the shop's quiet I catch one of the boys with the back of his thighs against the wrap stand, hands behind him with palms down against the counter, bearing his weight for a few seconds so the heels of his feet don't have to. The lines in his forehead vanish and his eyelids relax. I remember that. When I was his age it felt good. Anymore, I hoist myself up and there's no change in my legs. My legs never hurt. My legs never feel anything.

Numbness can signal several neurological ailments. Before D-Day, my doctor and her notes chalked this up to pinched nerves.

Swipe to me at work blacking out mid-conversation on what felt like summer's hottest afternoon. I didn't faint, but my vision extinguished into a black abyss and for once I was the one leaning against the counter just to know I was still upright. Wrinkling the muscles in my forehead and rubbing my eyes like I'd just been met with disagreement wasn't a great cover, but I did it anyway and I'm still not sure who noticed, or even how long it lasted. In the darkness I kept talking to whoever was listening. I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and the underarms of my shirt were soaked.

This episode was enough to warrant an MRI for lesions on my brain and an invasive nerve stimulation test during which doctors electrified the nerves in my back and pelvis to see where I could feel pain. Pain was the intention. Pain was the stimulation working. Like something out of a Phillip K. Dick novel.

In the absence of accumulating brain lesions, another doctor on our medical plan made the diagnosis of CIS. Probably, this will progress to CDMS. The doctors prepared me for beginning beta-interferon injections to suspend that inevitability.

What I’m prepared for is more numbness.

I wake up, go to work, and come home to collapse in the evenings. When I’m not at work there’s groceries to sort and leaves to blow. Check the calendar. Go here, see this person. My next appointment. I don't leave the house for anything unplanned.

I got myself into this because I wanted something to look forward to.

A common demand from a brain with addiction or ADHD is meeting consistent, short-term goals.

Swipe to my daily checklist.

Maybe it was always a sign of an addictive temperament to be susceptible to suggestibility for another drink, or another smoke. My dad was an addict and I sucked on a pacifier until I was five.

In Narcotics Anonymous you learn that anything can be addictive. Drugs. Sex. People. Sugar. It can be anything and anyone around you firing the little electrical synapses in your prefrontal cortex and for just a minute you don't feel like shit.

Swipe back to Monday, McDonald’s Monday, while Ann is asleep and my eyes are still crusted shut with me reaching for the blaring radio to push a button.

Nine hours from now I'll be in the passenger seat with a heater under my lap and wrinkly textbooks against my ankles. The two of us will be in a row of cars at a little mechanical window where every so often an arm will poke out, each time with a little brown bag. Eventually it'll be us getting one of these, paper neatly creased into a tent around two double quarter pounders. First, I have to get out of bed and see the calendar.

I lay my head back down on the pillow.

It’ll be the two of us.

Picture it:

All of her fits inside sample sizes of black and white, because at seven-thirty in the morning a walk-in closet of monochrome is one less decision. Even in layers of black rib-knit cotton there's something slight about the space between her thighs, and how her elbows knock against her ribs at a natural waist. Something malnourished. You can imagine her living at the Four Seasons with a room service cart full of tea.

How she looks is unblemished.

How she looks is expensive.

She’s the wish list of a girl who grows up orphaned, sharing old clothes with other kids she calls siblings.

In retail there's a productivity metric computed by dividing the number of people who purchase from a business by the number of people who walk into that business. Conversion, the metric that plummets in her shop everyday because of the peripatetic parade of boys and men who darken her door saying hello. To bring her a coffee, or a bagel, or an engraved wine glass because there’s a weekend house near a vineyard up north that she just has to see.

At the end of the day I get to hear about all of it.

You could write a book watching her leverage into customers all the dads showing tan lines where wedding rings should be, the Cialis-confident retirees who bring their wives to show them they're not old-hat, and the rest of the junkies haunting the mall who can't create emotional connections with anyone but a salesperson, whose job it is to relate. For all of them it's the best part of their days strutting in, shoulders back, eyes searching. Baby pit vipers stretching their necks to find heat. Outside her shop the landing pattern hovers like aircraft awaiting clearance to descend. She never gets to be alone. During a break in the ceremony she turns to the back of the store to let her eyes get so big they pop out below her eyebrows. “You say hi to a guy one time," she says, tightening her lips, head shaking. Her voice is all from the chest. It belongs in front of a microphone. Her eyebrows are still pulled up. How she looks is surprised. She’s walking to the back for her phone.

Then we’re driving.

It’s the middle of summer, but the vents in her car will blow warm air. She'll have the same textbooks on the floor mats. No new creases, no new bookmarks poking from the pages, or little post-it flags expected during college curriculum. Maybe the books move only when I push them away with my shoes on Mondays. Maybe I'm just not looking hard enough because I don't even know the titles. If there are titles.

The books could be about education. She makes it look easy with children. She makes new friends with kids half her height by sharing the same favorite colors. The books could be medicine, or could be nursing. She tells me nurses are in dwindling supply. This statistic was brought to you by the marketing department of our community college, where she shows up for classes.

The miracle is how there's any money left for school. In their thirties, women in retail spend disproportionately on hygiene and self care. This is her life. It requires hours every week. They say the first thing you see in a girl is her eyes, but that's if she's looking at you. With her, until that happens all you notice is how she plays with her long hair and bites it between bright teeth that look like they were set in place by a jeweler. All of her hair is a long, layered cut, highlighted, and smelling of clean chemicals. It's a monthly appointment.

Getting into the drivers seat of the car she shakes off shoes like bear traps and slides into sandals. To look at her you’d never know her job is to stand and dart around everyday for eight hours. Her toes and fingertips are studded with bright shields of chrome white. These are bi-weekly appointments. Throw in microcurrent facials and lip injections and it's three full workdays of self-care every two weeks.

Now I’m paying attention. Ask me again about skin care routines. Every fourteen squares it’s life support, but you can call it self-care.

Her phone is a busy box always cabled to an outlet. It's right there in the car with us. Before pulling on the seatbelt she's dumping it into a cupholder. It's like riding shotgun with my mom, who doesn't know how to disable notifications for any feature of her overheated and over-notified glass rectangle, suffers a constant barrage of dissonant tones and trills from news and games and scam texts for two-factor authentication codes, confusedly poking at it all to make it stop. Picture that, but instead it's all messaging and social media. Now include the camera flash firing for every new alert. And she ignores all of it.

When we drive she talks with me instead. She talks at me. I lay my arm along the plastic trim against the window listening and looking at her like an audience member. Her hair will be gathered so tall in a clip that it brushes against the sunroof. Somehow she watches the road, using peripheral vision when turning the wheel to change lanes. Her eyebrows are still pulled up. Her eyes never blink. They dart to the screens showing feeds from all the little driver-assist cameras pocketed along the body panels.

Her phone isn't abysmal until it's dark outside, the headlights are on, and every twenty seconds WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY erupts with bright strobes from inside the cupholder between us. This is any other girl whose social media is private accounts hidden behind licentious avatars showcasing a hundred thousand followers.

From the passenger seat her car smells like a short green lawn after rain, when the dampness evaporates from grass. Not a thunderstorm; the air smells of ozone and while clean that's too sanitizing to imagine. Rain? She could tell you what she uses. Deciphering scents has always been challenging for me.

Ann can smell everything. In another life, she’s a sommelier with her nose sunk into a glass of Cabernet recognizing notes of burnt chalk and freshly cut garden hose. Does chalk burn? Is that what smelling is like? What about the aerosolized beef fats and cheese of fast food soaking into the upholstery? We’re vegetarians, but when I get the groceries, I eat differently. And after hundreds, maybe thousands of trips together through the checkout line? These cashiers must recognize we’re never buying meat, but they keep my little conspiracy with the deli guy. If I go alone, I'll have a pack of salami unsealed before I push the cart into the lot. I wipe the grease from my fingers to keep stains off the paper grocery bags. Breath mints, hand sanitizer and a few napkins take care of the evidence. Driving home, I’m smelling of alcohol. I could be out all day drinking and do zero cleanup but if I come home with car seats stinking of capicola then I'm sunk.

So for McDonald's, Jenna drives.

[travelingtheusa]

CANADA - BRITISH COLUMBIA

2023 Jun 25 (Sun) – Today was a very looooong day.  We left Sikanni at 8:00 a.m.  The drive was 240 miles.�� It took us and our 3 three rigs six hours to arrive at Toad River Lodge.  The scenery along the way was fantastic.  The group spotted 7 bears (we only saw 2) and 2 caribou.  Someone else reported seeing stone sheep and big horn sheep during their drive.

      After we inspected the campsites (I think there are 21 in the campground), we assigned spaces then greeted each group as they came in.  The fifth and last group arrived around 5 p.m.  During the drive, we stopped in Tetsa River to buy cinnamon buns.

      We went to dinner in the café with Johnny & Linda.  The food was OK but expensive.   Afterward, we held a travel meeting in a tent site area.  Everyone is very upbeat and excited about the trip.

2023 Jun 24 (Sat) – It was a decent drive today – about 150 miles.  We left Dawson Creek at 9 a.m. with 3 rigs and drove 3-1/2 hours to Sikanni River Campground.  Sikanni (pronounced SICK-A-NEE) is a small way station along the Alaska Highway.  The campground (if you could call it that) was a dirt field with back-ins along the tree line and some pull-thrus on the side.  Most folks had 30 amp electric.  Three of us had 15 amp service; just enough to power the refrigerator.

2023 Jun 23 (Fri) – Today was a free day.  Everyone was free to go off and do what they wanted.  Paul and I worked on the next few stops.  Beth pointed out a discrepancy in the itinerary. Apparently, we scheduled both the optional jeep tour of Denali National Park for the same day as the Husky Homestead Tour.  My heart was in my throat as I contacted the Husky Homestead folks and asked for a change.  Luckily, they were able to reschedule us for the next day and more luckily, we had nothing planned for that day.  Whew!

      At 6 p.m. we met back in Sudeten Hall for a travel meeting.  The group is coming together nicely.  There are good friendships being formed and the comradery is high. 

2023 Jun 22 (Thu) – At 9 a.m. we all met at the Walter Wright Pioneer Village for a self-guided tour of the village.  We broke everyone up into groups, the same arrangement as when they drove here.  Our five groups headed off in their different directions and seemed to enjoy the nostalgia.

       At 11:30 a.m. we gathered in Sudeten Hall for lunch catered by the Meat Doctor.  There was pulled pork, beef brisket, baked potato, cole slaw, strawberry cake, beverages and coffee.  Everything was delicious.

       A representative from the visitor center – Melissa – came in and gave a presentation to the group about the Alaska Highway and Dawson Creek.  After her hour-long slide show, she gave everyone a certificate attesting to the fact they were at Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway.

       We then all grabbed our jackets and sent to the Mile 0 Marker to take a group picture.  Paul took many individual shots as well.  Then Paul & I walked to the visitor center to pick up some post cards for the grandsons.  The docent told me where the post office was so we walked three block down main street to buy some stamps.  The post card stamps are the same as their first class stamps.  We walked back up main street, then returned to the campground.

     At 5 p.m., several people gathered for happy hour.  Joe brought out the dice to play a yard game.  It was fun.

2023 Jun 21 (Wed) - We left Whitecourt in Alberta at 8 a.m., leading 3 RVs.  The weather was clear (no rain, yay!) and the scenery was very nice.  The roads were long and straight with lots of trees.  The drive was over six hours.  We stopped in Beaver Lodge for lunch and took a picture with a giant beaver sculpture.

      Once we arrived, we figured out where everyone would go and set out the parking crew.  The last rig came in around 4 p.m.  It made for a very long day.  A small group gathered to socialize outside our rig around 6 p.m.  At 9, we came inside.  There was a one hour time change today which made for a longer day.  We are bushed!

[kaiwritesgood]

“Object” Assignment

               My parents met on the Washington D.C. Metro – the Orange Line train. Years later, my brother and I would become accustomed to spending 24 hours on an Amtrak train headed from D.C. to West Palm Beach, Florida. In my teens, I forced my friends to pick me up and drop me off at the appropriate Metro station. I had a dormant license as my dad provided me with an endless supply of SmartTrip cards.                I learned at a young age that cars were expensive, insurance was just as expensive, and teenagers could not be trusted behind the wheel. I would grow tired of arguing that, and I’d quickly run out of sources and statistics to support my point, which was that I could be trusted, and I was deserving. My friends were not good drivers. And my classmates frequently got into accidents, documented on the local news.                My 16-year-old-self had no idea I would not receive my first car until age 23, nine months into the first year of the pandemic.                By 2020, I had been living in Pittsburgh for six years, and I relied on the Port Authority (now Pittsburgh Regional Transit) to get me anywhere and everywhere. I had enough practice. And the system was smaller than the one I was used to. But I would soon find that this bus system was riddled with problems.                The bus was frequently late and often a no-show. Sometimes, and infuriatingly, it would come too early. There was only one downtown location for obtaining and refilling a bus pass.                When the pandemic came, I feared these buses more than usual. I refused to use them unless necessary and relied on my boyfriend and his Kia Forte to get me around.                Then my mom called one afternoon.                “Ron’s upgrading his car,” she said. I felt my face light up.

               Wait, I thought. I don’t know shit about cars.                Two weeks, and $5,000 later, I had a black, 2016 Honda HR-V parallel parked in front of my apartment. My first few trips were to the craft store. After that, the grocery store, then my friend’s places, then to the mall, then to restaurants, and even across the state and back. I started to enjoy traveling on my own schedule, picking up my friends, shopping at odd times, even sitting in drive-thru’s became almost “fun”.                But when school and work resumed, I’d soon realize that I really don’t like to drive.                By the end of the first year of ownership, I had been in two accidents, collected a wide range of parking tickets, fell behind on insurance payments, spent a fortune on gas, locked my keys in the trunk, then lost the set of backup keys. Having a car was starting to feel like having a child.                The car provided me with only a level of privacy money could buy and at the same time, it exposed me to a world of new dangers. Being behind the wheel makes me think of all the many auto-related ways people die that I had never thought of before. A moment never went by where I didn’t miss and long for the train.                The car operated on so many extremes; it expanded and limited the places I could go, it was safe and dangerous at the same time, and it felt like it either went very fast or very slow. I felt conflicted about this realization though because I had been asking for a car since I got my license at 17. I almost felt like my complaints had a tinge of privilege in them. I owned one car that was completely paid off, it was even black inside and out like I preferred. I had access to two cars, if you included my boyfriend’s. And in today’s economy, I knew a two-car household was considered a luxury to many people. Here I was, complaining, about having too much.                Even though the act of driving irritated me, I recognized the importance of the car. And after owning it for only two years, I can’t imagine not having it. And maybe the reliance on it is what I resent – the conditions that forced me into driving. America was built for cars and planes, not trains. To an adult who grew up on trains, and religiously watched Thomas the Train, this was heartbreaking.                But I love my car. It’s my first car. And I’ll never have another first car. I’ve customized it. I’ve stuck pins in the upholstery, stickers on the sun visor, and hung keychains from the rearview mirror. I slapped a Maryland crab magnet on the back next to the holographic license plate frame I bought for it from Walmart. There’s French Toast Crunch pieces lodged under the backseat, and a dent in the driver’s side I got when a lady hit me on a side street in Rosslyn, Virginia. My prized collection of fast-food napkins and masks stuffed in the glove compartment, expired library books in the passenger storage pocket, and my Animal Crossing keychain dangling from the rearview (it’s Blathers). It’s one-of-a-kind, an extension of myself.                I can’t tell you how fast it goes, or how many miles are on it without starting it first. I’m not sure what kind of gas it takes, I just know it’s not diesel. It’s taught me a lot about the sanctity of life, and how important it is to be patient, and what people truly mean when they say, “DRIVE SAFE.”                Every day, I remind myself it is a privilege to drive, although it’s treated as a right. There are (not enough) consequences to unsafe driving and the road is a communal space. It is to be shared, not ruled.                Every day, I miss the freedom of the train and not having to worry about parking. Nowadays, I only drive three days a week. And that is more than enough for me.

[ecodweeb]

Another Saturday, another cat transport...

If you’ve followed me for more than a year, you know that I tend to do a lot of animal transports for rescue groups. This weekend’s is for the Siamese Cat Rescue Center, taking an adopted cat from the foster home in Cary to the adopter who is rendezvousing with us in Roanoke. Coincidentally, I have family in nearby Salem. This trip was the perfect opportunity to test out some route theories since there aren’t any DC Fast chargers along the usual route.

The route looks like this: Leave home in Raleigh, drive 17 miles to pick up the kitten in Cary, then 76 miles to VIRginia International Raceway (VIR) to charge for a half hour, then it’s 99 miles to the handoff point (a Mexican restaurant with a charger) in Roanoke.  From here we will eat lunch while the car charges (1hr) and then drive over to Blacksburg to DC fast for at least a half hour (may take 45 minutes given the Signet charger). From here, we had to tell Plugshare we wanted to go to the Hotel Floyd to get it to keep us on Route 8 all the way down to our trusty Greenlots in Greensboro. Route 8 is largely downhill once you get to Floyd…

How did the Ioniq do?

We started the day off in Raleigh with 100% charge and drove over to Cary using highways (important to note that the above map slows the route entirely as no-highway). We picked up our very vocal little passenger and proceeded to head up to VIR. We arrived at VIR with 36% power and 91.2 miles on the trip odometer. The car said it would take 46 minutes to fully charge, and I was only anticipating to charge for 30 minutes. We turned the AC on for the kitty and walked over to the guard shack to sign in and head over to the Pro Shop.

VIR has good signage to reflect that there is (free, thanks Nissan!) EV charging on site. You do not need to enter the race grounds to access the station. The lady at the guard shack arranged a ride down to the pro shop for us, which was mighty kind of her. We got to the Pro Shop and saw Don, who runs the shop. He and my husband are old friends, so they set into catching up while I woofed down a chicken-egg-n-cheese Bojangles biscuit (that I’d been hanging on to since we pass thru Durham), and looked at the gear for sale. Don asked bout John’s motorcycle, which led to a conversation about my Energica. After a solid half hour, I said we need to get back to the car. Unfortunately, we had no ride back… so we had to walk. Over a mile. In 95F heat with no shade. I was not a happy camper.

Back at the car, we walked up right as it finished charging. I toweled off, hopped into the very cold cabin, and we headed north on back roads to Roanoke. The drive was absolutely lovely, and we arrived with 25% battery left - more than enough to make it to the DC Fast charger in Blacksburg. But I picked the restaurant I did because they have free Level 2 charging, and I knew my in-laws were coming to meet us for lunch.

We plugged in when we got there, about 10 minutes later my in-laws arrived and got us a table. I sent my husband in with them while I waited for the adopter. I felt for this lady, she’d totaled her car the night before when she hit a deer. She was in a rental car, and I could tell she was stressed with the mess. Kitties are good for stress. She lit up when she saw her new baby, and my heart melted a little. I locked the car and headed inside to join my family and enjoy a wonderful meal together. I don’t know how long we stayed, at least an hour, but the car crept up to around 53% state of charge while we enjoyed our fellowship. I triggered the AC on the car as we were walking outside, because we are southern and it takes 15 minutes of goodbyes before we actually get in the car to go. After the goodbye routine completed, I unplugged the car and we set off to Blacksburg - a mere 24 miles away.

On the way to Roanoke, my husband asked me if I verified that the charger in Blacksburg was working. I said someone used it on the 5th and that it reports online in the Greenlots app. He says that a friend of his who lives up that way said he thought it was out of order, and I said we will figure it out. They have ample Level 2 as a backup, but we didn’t need them. When we rolled up, the fans on the unit were running - someone had just used it. I checked Plugshare and sure enough, someone with a Leaf had used it (and was still checked in - it said they’d check out in 42 minutes). I checked in, and the car said 29 minutes to full. Oh, this station was also free. We have traveled over 200 miles and paid $0 so far. We walked across the street to the Mellow Mushroom for water and beer, to which my husband was only able to drink 2 before the car was done charging. We settled the tab, and loaded up for the longest leg yet - 2 hours and 45 minutes all downhill for 116mi to Greensboro.

I don’t have any photos to show, but Route 8 is like the Tail of the Dragon with guard rails and a 55mph speed limit. It was insane. The Hyundai handled it well, better than I did honestly… and I was driving! I was nervous at first. We had 11 miles of buffer in the reported range to the distance I knew we had to travel. By the time we got to Greensboro, that buffer had swelled to 25 miles. Downhill rocks!

We arrived in Greensboro and plugged into the DC fast charger in the downtown. Our first pay charge, $12/hr. We were going to be there at least 30 minutes, so we popped over to Scuppernong Books for a beverage and some light reading. I love this bookstore, not only for its decent wine/beer/coffee/fizzy water selection, but also their selection of books and comfortable seating. John got lost in the stacks, and I drank some chocolate milk to power me for the drive home. We only had 81 miles to go… After charging for 40 minutes we paid $8.05 for 22.21kWh of power and headed home. We hit I-40 and set the cruise to 70mph. It was smooth sailing all the way to our driveway.

All said and done, 400 miles in 8 hours and 44 minutes, averaging 5.0 miles per kWh of power.

Well done, Hyundai. This car continues to impress me with its efficiency and reliability.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Ugh me too !!!! The baby fever has been so real lately 😭 And you’re so right, Rhett would be so attentive while you’re pregnant!! He’d always be checking in on you to make sure you’re feeling okay and have everything you may need, stocking up on whatever foods you may be craving!!! You’re craving ice cream in the middle of the night? He’s driving out to a 24-hour store no matter how far a drive it is! And he’d be such a trooper through all the hormones, mood swings, sleepless nights. Constantly laying his head on your stomach and talking to the baby, especially when their kicking gets to be too much for you, and yes it would totally make you cry from how sweet he is 🥹 Also I can totally picture him singing to your bump to sooth the baby (again, crying 😭), though sometimes he would purposely sing very badly to leave you giggling when he sees you’re going thru it and knows you need a good laugh 🥺

Sighhhhhh I wanna have his babies 😢

And I’m glad to hear you’re feeling a bit better !!! 💕 I’m doing okay too and had a pretty nice day, thank you my dear! 🥰💜💜

Sebbbbb it’s currently 3 am and I had the cutest Rhett thought and it won’t leave my head !!! You’re pregnant with his baby and towards the end of the pregnancy you’re having trouble sleeping because you can’t get seem to get comfortable in any position with how big your bump has grown, on top of the incessant kicking from the little baby in your belly. So your tossing and turning eventually wakes up Rhett and he’s asking you in his deep, gravely sleep voice “what are you doin’ up, honey?” Turning towards you and seeing the frustrated tears that are ready to spill out of your tired eyes at any second. You tell him why you can’t sleep as one of his hands gently strokes your cheek, the other rubbing soothing circles over your bump. Upon hearing your explanation Rhett is then sliding down the bed, under the covers and lifting your shirt to place soft kisses on your belly. Still half asleep and leaning his head on your stomach, he begins talking to the bump “hey little one, can’t keep kickin’ around like a bull in the rodeo in there, it’s time to let your mama sleep. I already give her enough trouble to deal with, why don’t you cut mama a break huh, bug?” leaving you giggling down at him and the baby finally settling. Rhett’s voice always seemed to do the trick in calming them and you just know that when that baby is born they’re gonna be a daddy’s girl/boy. And once everything’s calm, Rhett is placing one last kiss to your bump before moving back up to his spot on the bed. Pulling you to lean against his chest, fingers gently running through your hair while his other hand rubs soothing patterns along your back until you fall asleep 🥹❤️💕💕 - kricket / @sugarcoated-lame

Also I hope you’re feeling better and having a good day my love!! 🥰

KRICKET KRICKET KRICKET

i’ve been so insanely broody recently and this just sky rocketed it omg. i cannot get the sweet and soft idea out my head of how attentive and loving rhett would be while you’re pregnant and this beautiful piece of writing showcases this perfectly!!

he would talk to your little one through your bumb all the time. rhett wanted them to know his voice as soon as they came out the womb and it made you cry on several occasions when rhett would talk and you could physically feel your little one stop their movements and calm down. they already knew who their daddy was and like you said, you knew then and there they would be daddy’s favorite.

rhett would let you sleep in any position that was comfortable for you, even if it was with him sat upright against the headboard. he would hold you against his chest, soothingly stroking your bump and slumping his head on your shoulder until you could hear him softly snoring.

thank you so much for this my love and for your well wishes!! i’m definitely feeling a lil better and i hope you’re having a wonderful day and feeling good yourself!! 💌💖

[cevansbrat0007]

The Curious Case of the Chicken McNuggets

Summary: You sneak out one night to satisfy a late night craving, with every intent to make it back before your overly tired husband wakes up. Also, check out Andy’s P.O.V. 

*Warnings: Implied Smut, Manhandling, Pregnant!Reader, Brat!Reader, Angry Andy, Light Spanking, Overstimulation (mentioned), Chicken Nuggets, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

---

You stare at the ceiling trying to talk yourself out of what you knew was pretty much inevitable. For a moment, you thought about waking your sleeping husband and asking him to go for you, but it was late. Just after midnight. And he’d been working such long hours lately that, truthfully, you just didn’t have the heart. 

But you desperately wanted chicken nuggets. Specifically a twenty-piece McNugget from McDonald’s. With honey mustard. All of the honey mustard. And some fries. 

You look over at Andy as your mental debate wages on. There was a 24-hour McDonald’s just down the street. And you were pretty sure that you could make it there and back without your husband ever noticing. That way he could sleep and you could eat. 

Decision made, you slip out of bed. Out of habit, your hand goes to rub your baby bump. At six months along, your belly was pretty darn big. But you loved it. You weren’t waddling or anything like that yet, but you knew those days were coming sooner rather than later. 

“Mmm.” You hear Andy stir. “Where you going, baby?” The sound of his raspy voice makes you smile.

“Bathroom, honey. And then to get some water. I’ll be right back. Go on back to sleep.” The first part isn’t a lie. You were going to the bathroom. Mostly because your baby girl loved sitting on your bladder like it was her own personal lawn chair. 

“Okay, see you in a min…” His deep voice trails off as he dozes off again. Good.

You take your time going to the bathroom, not that you were super fast these days anyway. By the time you’re done, your Andy Bear is totally fast asleep again. Time for some McNuggets.

Snagging your phone from the nightstand, you sneak downstairs to grab your keys and purse. And then you’re out the door. Those crispy, golden chicken chunks were almost within reach. Jumping in the car, you raise the garage door, put it in drive, and set out on your journey. There was no time to waste, damn it!

Ten minutes later, you make it your destination. You do a little dance in your car as you pull up to the drive-thru speaker. “Welcome to McDonald’s. Can I take your order?”

“Hi, yes! Can I please get a twenty piece Chicken McNugget? And can you be sure they’re fresh? Sorry to be a pain, but I’m kinda super pregnant….and I need this.” You wince a little, knowing you sounded needy. But your meal needed to be fresh for maximum enjoyment.

“Sure thing, ma’am. No problem. We’ll drop them fresh for you. Would you like to make it a meal?”

Ah, thank the Lord on high.

“Yes, please. With a Sprite. Thank you so much!” 

“And your sauce?”

“Honey mustard. I’m going to need at least four, please. It’s a thing.”

She gives you your total and then you pay. And then they have you park in a loading zone or something to wait while they cook your food. Fuck, you were so damned happy!

While it takes a little longer than you would have liked, eventually you have your food. You delicately place it in your passenger seat. You even briefly debate draping the seatbelt over it. No. That would be too much.

You race home. Becoming super excited the moment you pull back into the garage and kill the engine. Grabbing your bag of goodies and your drink, you exit your vehicle as fast as you can and head into the house. Jiminy Crickets, this had been a fantastic decision!

Food in hand, you head towards the kitchen, only to see that all of the lights are on. Wait. You hadn’t done that. You set your bag on the kitchen table as you try to muddle your way through your confusion. 

And then in strolls a shirtless, very pissed off Andy. 

“Um, hi honey!” You squeak. Just that fast you regret not getting him anything. “What are you doing up?”

“I don’t know.” He growls, his muscles flexing. “What were you doing out?”

Feeling mildly brave, mostly because your pregnancy cravings didn’t understand the concept of fear, you fish out your box of nuggets and pop one in your mouth. “I…I got hungry.”

Andy leans his big body against the counter, his hands going into his pockets of his maroon sleep pants. “See, I know I was half asleep at the time, but my hearing is pretty damn excellent. Did you or did you not tell me that you were going to the bathroom and then to grab a glass of water? Isn’t that what you said?”

Ahh crap. Your husband was going into attorney mode. 

“Would you like a nugget? I’ll share. Oh, and they’re fresh! Plus, I have honey mustard.” You try.

No dice. 

His nostrils flare as he glares at you. “Answer my goddamned question, baby.” Clearly he would not be swayed. Which sucked, because all you really wanted to do was eat your food and go back to bed.

 “Yes, that may have been what I said. And, in my defense, I did go to the bathroom. But see, I had been up for a good hour or so craving some McDonald’s and I didn’t want to wake you -”

“So you lie to me and sneak out of the house.” He interrupts. It seems like your man’s Boston accent gets thicker with every word. 

“I wanted to let you sleep.” You mumble as you gaze longingly at a packet of honey mustard. Throwing caution to the wind, you grab it and rip the foil so you can dunk another delicious nugget. “Are you sure you don’t want one, baby? Or some fries, maybe?” 

“Do you realize that I had no idea where you were, Y/N? I searched this whole house for you. And then I saw that your keys and purse were gone. And the whole time, I’m thinking to myself, where the fuck could my wife have gone at this hour?”

“Andy, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I really just wanted you to rest. And I was really hungry. Please don’t be mad.”

“Too goddamned late.” He hisses. When he starts to approach you, you pick up your food and begin to maneuver around the table. Why couldn’t your big man just let you eat in peace?   

“You get hungry at night? Then you wake me up and have me go get it, you stubborn little brat.” He snarls. 

“Hey! I wasn’t being a brat. I was trying to take care of you and myself and -”

“You know how I feel about your safety!” He yells. His booming voice echoes throughout the room. “You want something to eat this late, then you wake me the fuck up, little girl. What you do not do is sneak out of our house after midnight without letting me know where you’re going!”

Andy continues to circle around the table like a panther stalking his prey in his attempt to get to you. You felt like you were being fucking hunted, but it still didn’t stop you from popping another bite of chicken into your mouth. 

“Baby, if you weren’t six months pregnant, I would have you bent over my knee right now.” His voice is rough with emotion. “And I would blister your ass. Swear to God, you would not be able to sit. For a long fucking time.” 

You feel yourself pale at his words. 

“Andy, I said I was sorry. And I am. Next time, I’ll wake you and we’ll ride together. I promise. Please just let this pregnant woman enjoy her chicken nuggets before they get cold.”

You decide to take a risk and let him get close enough to grab you, which he does. And then you shove a nugget into his mouth. He gives you an evil look, but he proceeds to chew and swallow. You repeat the action, this time with fries. And then you hold out your Sprite to him.

“Wash it down?” You whisper. Which he does, his eyes never leaving yours. When he’s finished, you sit your drink onto the table. Your teeth go to nibble your lower lip. 

“I really am sorry, Andy. I won’t do it again.” 

“No, you won’t.” He takes you into his arms. And then he proceeds to deliver a series of very hard swats to your ass. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” You screech with each smack. It’s not like one of your usual spankings. You’re standing, your pants and underwear stay up, and he’s holding you…almost tenderly. 

Cupping your chin with his hand, Andy forces you to meet his eyes. His thumb brushes away a stray tear. “Do not do this again, young lady. Do you hear me?”

You whimper softly.

“I made a promise to you the night you told me you were pregnant, did I not?”

You nod.

“Whatever you want, you get. But what you do not do, not ever, is sneak out of this house in the middle of the night and leave me to wonder about where you are. I’m too young yet to be having heart palpitations. Are we clear?”

You nod again. His grip tightens on your jaw. “I need the words. More specifically, I need to hear a yes, Daddy.”

“Ye-yes, Daddy.” 

Andy smiles then, his hands going to caress your slightly bruised backside. Your husband had given you way worse spankings in the past, so you knew that you had truly gotten off light this time. And only because you were pregnant.

“Finish your food, Y/N, so I can take you back upstairs. And then you’re going to lay back and offer your sweet little body to me by way of apology. You owe me at least four orgasms for your misbehavior, and that is non negotiable. And let me be clear, I don’t care how long it takes, because apparently I need to teach you that no matter how tired I am, you always come first.”

His eyes glaze over as he continues. “You’re going to cum on my mouth, on my fingers, on my cock...baby I’m going to wreck you.”

You clear your throat, unsure of what to say.

“Now eat. You’re going to need your strength, honey.” He leans forward to kiss your nose. “Also, I’m taking the day off tomorrow. So if you don’t give me what I want tonight, I’ll make sure you give it to me tomorrow. And trust me when I say…” 

He grabs your ass again and squeezes.

“If that happens, I plan to add to the tally.”

END

[kyopmi]

☆ — 𝒑𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒖 𝒑𝒆𝒏 ! [ ch05 : romantic like this ]

pairing — suna rintarou x gn!reader

notes — suna takes you on a “picnic”

words — 1,404

[ series masterlist ]

not even fifteen minutes have passed when you spot suna’s car pull up in front of the house. you can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you as you fast-walked towards him after sending a text to your friend saying you’re leaving early.

“hey, thanks for coming, rin. don’t know what i would do without you. and i’m sorry to bother you this late,” you say, all in one breath as you open the passenger-side door and slip into the seat.

suna stares at you closely. there’s no hint of resentment or annoyance in his eyes, only a fondness he can’t quite place and some residual concern.

“it’s no problem,” he replies, hoping you know that he truly means it.

once he’s sure you’ve properly fastened your seatbelt, he starts driving again, the blaring music from the house fading away as you get further away and is replaced by the stereo playing suna’s lo-fi beats playlist. the car isn’t anything fancy or luxurious — it gets suna places comfortably and that’s all he needs. however, at this moment, you’re the most grateful you’ve ever been to be sitting on the familiar, plush seats with the silly little goose ornament swinging back and forth on the rearview mirror.

“so…”

“don’t say i told you so,” you groan, cutting him off.

suna snorts in amusement. “i was just gonna ask you if you’re hungry.”

“sure,” you reply dubiously, “but to answer your question — yeah, i could go for some food now.”

with your confirmation, suna navigates to the nearest 24-hour fast food chain, the car fills with your usual banter and conversation all throughout the way. chatting with suna — being with suna — easily picks up your mood once again, and you’re already forgetting your previous discomfort.

when the car pulls up the drive-thru window, the volleyball player doesn’t need to ask for your order as he places one for the both of you without missing a beat.

the parking lot is empty tonight. suna parks his car a little further away from the building and shuts off the ignition, beckoning you to follow as he opens the door on his side and walks toward the hood of the car with the paper bag of food in one hand.

“get up there,” he instructs casually, offering a hand to you.

you hesitate before taking his hand, suna’s fingers almost completely wrapping around your knuckles. you place your other hand on the car and push yourself on top of the hood, making yourself comfortable on the warm surface. he hands you the paper bag before following suit, hoisting himself up and making the car shudder under his weight.

“bet you never had a picnic like this, huh?” suna teases as the both of you unwrap your late-night snacks.

“this isn’t a picnic,” you disagree with a shake of your head.

it’s a quiet, peaceful night. the crescent moon seems to be shining brighter than usual in the night sky, with several faint stars scattered around. you’re too busy admiring the glowing fluorescent light from the neon restaurant sign to notice how suna keeps his eyes on you as he takes a bite from his burger.

“and why not?” he asks in between his munching.

“well, for one, we’re on a car instead of like, a pretty field or the beach—” (suna scoffs at that one) “—and our food is not coming from a basket, and we’re not sitting on a blanket.”

“you watch too many sappy movies,” he decides, dodging your hand when you try to lightly smack his arm and sticking out his tongue at you.

“besides,” suna continues to ramble, “i don’t see a problem with a 24-hour fast food restaurant parking lot at 1 in the morning or sitting on my car. i think it’s more romantic like this.”

right after he blurts out his last sentence, suna’s entire body feels like it’s frozen in place, though internally all his thoughts are running wild along with his hearbeat. why would i say that? are you going to be weirded out? should i just play it off as a joke? why aren’t you saying anything?

with a small inhale, he braves himself to let his eyes flicker over to you.

you don’t seem to be outwardly reacting to his sudden claim, your fingers toying with the straw of your drink, but suna can see the gears turning in your mind just from your eyes — from the widening of your eyes to the mousy blinking. it’s the same look he recognizes from when he first asked if the seat in the classroom is taken, to when he asked if you had a pen he could borrow, all the way to when he nonchalantly asked if you wanted to go out with him. (and, he could also add, every time he refers to you not by your name, but by a certain yellow pokemon.)

suna gulps down the last of his food and opens his mouth to quash the silence, but you manage to beat him to it.

“yeah? well, you should still take me on a proper picnic next time,” you say, voice slightly trailing off at your request.

there’s a sense of relief that flows through him when you don’t bring up his comment, though there’s also an itch of curiosity he can’t seem to scratch now. “okay, i’ll keep that in mind,” he hums in agreement.

time flies when you’re together. half an hour passes, then an hour, then another. it’s not long until the both of you finish your late-night supper, all the while discussing about your lessons, classmates, or the latest celebrity gossip that suna somehow always manages to keep up with. (he claims it’s not intentional, he just spends a lot of time curating his social media and it’s impossible to escape the odd entertainment news article or so.) eventually, you decide to at least try to make it back to the dorms before the sun rises, or before one of you passes out.

suna is first to slide off the hood of the car, promptly landing on his feet with a thump and stretching his arms out to relieve his muscles — an act you think is a little too similar to that of a cat and makes you hold back a giggle. he turns back to you and holds out a hand to you, just like he did earlier, and your fingers slip effortlessly into his once more.

it’s as if the universe is at a standstill when suna gives you a small tug to help you down, but instead of hopping off the car, you stop right at the edge, with your legs dangling and suna standing in between. neither of you dare to move as you catch each other’s eyes, fingers still connected and knees brushing together. in the midst of the dark, his eyes seem to shine brighter than usual and he notices a new kind of spark in your orbs.

and suna gives your hand another tug, with more resolve this time that pulls you closer to him, and for a fleeting moment your lips touch, barely grazing against one another. his lips are cold from the milkshake he drank, but it doesn’t quell the warmth that continues to draw you in. the butterflies in your stomach and the blood rushing through your veins make you feel like you’re tipsy, eyes half-lidded as your body leans into him on its own volition.

suna isn’t feeling much different from you. he doesn’t realize how cold his lips are until they meet yours, sending a fiery ball straight to his stomach. there’s a flurry of pure elation that makes the hair on the back of his neck raise and his heart flutter at your reciprocation, at the fact that yes, you want this, too, as much as he does.

hardly a second passes before he intertwines his fingers with your own, squeezing gently while his other hand situates itself on your waist, and finally, his lips fully captures yours in a kiss.

☆ tags — @maitaro @gyun-yuu @randomreader9797 @chloee0x0 @sapphosdilemma @onigirintarou @yaexure​ @alienbitch​ @icedhoneyy​ @jojowantstocry​ @rntrsuna @chims-kookies​ @kitsunekanojo​ @marinarihearts​ @lundabean​ @erenluvsrini​ 

[mutatedangels-a]

...I will always love you. ♫

And that was The Cure with Lovesong, their newest single from this year's Disintegration, for one of our listeners, Bridget. A little bit about The Cure for those of you cool cats who don't know. About ten years ago, in 1978, they formed...

Static.

...The Cure are currently on a 24-city tour across the US, hitting Baton Rouge, Houston, and Montgomery down here in the south. And Bridget, you lucky girl, you called the right place at the right time, 'cause I'm sending you two tickets to the Houston show, right here in Texas. Christmas came early. I've been Jungle Julia, and you've been listening to Jungle Julia's Jams.

Noah pattered her fingers along the rubber steering wheel of her dad's 1974 El Camino, half-lidded eyes focused on the unlit road ahead. These desert roads were unforgiving: Despite it only being 5 p.m., this time of year, technically the south's "winter," the sun was nowhere to be found. Had already been absent for a good half hour already, when she first picked up Blair by the gas station. Her father would scold her for doing such a thing: You're already doing one reckless thing driving around to all these stupid horror movie auditions. Now I'm finding out you're picking up hitchhikers in my own Betsy? How dare you!

Betsy was cherry red and beautiful inside and out, but practically old enough to drink now. Just as Noah was. And her time was running out: the older she got, the less chance she'd have gracing the silver screen as the next budding scream queen. How old was Jamie Lee Curtis when she debuted as Laurie Strode over a decade ago now at this point? Noah was already in her mid-20s, running out of time as far as she knew. Besides, the horror movies were just that—horror movies. The chances of picking up a Leatherface wannabe were quite low. (After all, a chainsaw is kind of an obvious murder weapon...)

"Hey, don't mention it," Noah said, shaking her head. She looked over at him and flashed a smile; he seemed harmless enough. "It's dark, it's gonna rain later. We're headed in the same direction. Call it... saving the planet? Causing less emissions? Being a good person? Whatever—it just makes sense."

She took a deep breath and fixed her eyes back on the path ahead of them, illuminated just enough by her clouded headlights. Phil Collins' Thru These Walls started playing on the radio.

...I can hear through these walls I can hear it when they're foolin' around I can hear through these walls And I hear every sign, every sound I can hear through these walls In the dark with the shades pulled down. ♫

As the song flitted into its chorus, Noah laughed at Blair's words. "Yeah, my dad would probably kill me if he found out," she said. "I'm not as paranoid as him."

But she should have been.

She should have been.

A quick click and shing! caught Noah's attention, and before she knew it, she felt something sharp pressing up against her throat. Petrified, she kept her foot on the gas and her arms, once relaxed, now stiff as she held the steering wheel. She swallowed, but her throat was dry; and that very gesture pushed the knife ever deeper on the surface of her skin.

She didn't say she understood. She let out her attempt at a casual laugh, laced with nervousness. "Hey, this—you don't have to do this, you know," she said, trying to remain calm despite the pressure on her leg. "You can take the car, if that's what you want. And I won't tell anyone anything." // @someotherdog

@mutatedangels / the hitcher for blair & the muse of your choice! / a non-satanist verse for blair, he's a hitchhiking serial killer that's just been picked up by your muse (for whichever reason you decide). could be set in the eighties for extra fun, but not a requirement.

whoops! turns out when you murder people all over town, you might just get caught. that was the only reason blair was even wandering the southern highways. he made it out of his hometown of robichaux, louisiana by the skin of his teeth, so close to being arrested. luckily, small town sheriffs were stupid pretty much all across the board. so he went from one town to the next, hitchhiking along quiet state routes, and tried to indulge in his hobby as often as possible. sitting in the passenger seat of the stranger's car, blair held the most polite, gentlemanly smile possible—he had a lot of practice, twenty-seven years of being a good ol' boy before he finally learned the joys of death. it was all so easy for him. it sometimes took awhile, but inevitably, someone would give him a ride.

"i really do appreciate, y'know. so many people drove right on by and didn't even give me a glance." blair appeared truly grateful, and he was in his own way. his right hand was in his jeans' pocket, fingering the handle of his switchblade, twitching with anticipation. he knew he didn't look like much, but he was strong. and quick. the act of murder was so kinetic and exhausting but blair could do it forever. that's why he liked to tempt fate. it had been months since he started, and they never even came close to catching him since he left robichaux. kind of boring, honestly. blair became sloppier with each kill because he thought he was a god. the lack of capture proved it to him. even his victims weren't much of a challenge. he started out with the weak, then advanced to stronger prey. he started in the shadows, then became more blatant. he still liked the weak and the shadows, but they just tided him over. "i guess most people wouldn't take the risk of pickin' up a stranger, eh?"

even though he was able to keep up small talk for longer than he cared to, his patience was running thin. he retained his smile as he brought the knife out of his pocket. the blade flipped out. he was still smiling. "guess you ain't too smart then." quickly, he pressed the blade against their neck and used his other hand to press onto their knee, forcing their foot onto the gas with his ironlike grip. "now, don't try nothin'. this ain't my first rodeo, y'know? don't try to drive the car off the road or push me out the door. don't speed to get the attention of some police cruiser. those are old tricks and i'm bored of 'em, you understand? say you understand."

[allthingsfangirl101]

Soulmate Tattoos–Zac Efron

Your Soulmate Tattoo is your soulmate's first words to you. For girls, their tattoo is on the underside of their left wrist. For boys, their tattoo is on the underside of their right wrist. The year before you meet your soulmate, your tattoo begins to appear. There is no ink, no colors, and no words. Instead, there is a red splotch where the tattoo will appear on the exact day the following year.

The month that you are going to meet your soulmate, your red splotch becomes more defined. It begins to softly outline the edges. Seven days before you meet them, the words slowly start to form. The day before you meet your soulmate, the words finally appear in brown. That brown doesn't change to black until you're standing right in front of your soulmate and they have spoken the words to you.

My tattoo didn't start to appear until the summer after my third year of teaching. The minute the red splotch appeared, I couldn't stop glancing at it. That next year was horrible. I made note of the day, hoping it would help with the nerves, but it only made them worse.

When it got to the week I would meet him, I constantly rubbed the outline of my tattoo. And the second the words appeared on my arm the day before, I memorized them.

I'm so sorry, beautiful. I hope I didn't spill my coffee on you and ruin your nice dress.

I bit my lip when I first read his words. I couldn't help but start to imagine what he might be like. I spent the entire day thinking about him and our first interaction.

He's going to call me beautiful. He's going to spill or almost spill his coffee on me at a coffee shop. And I'm wearing a dress.

I woke up that morning, fighting the urge to go to the coffee shop right away. They don't tell us what time we meet our soulmate. I didn't want to sit in a coffee shop all day, waiting for him to show up. But I didn't want to miss him either.

Instead of overthinking this, I got ready at my normal pace. I took my shower, got dressed (making sure to wear my favorite sundress), curled my hair, and did a little more makeup than I normally wear.

There were positives and negatives to knowing the day you meet your soulmate. You can make sure you look nice, but it also leads to a lot of overthinking and anxiety.

I headed to the coffee shop, my hands shaking as I walked in. I got in line, nervously playing with my dress as I waited.

I gasped when I felt the burning. I looked down to see my tattoo changing color. My heart started beating really fast when I noticed the color was turning darker. Which means. . .

I was brought away from my tattoo when the guy who was in front of me turned around and bumped into me.

"I'm so sorry, beautiful," the guy said, his voice light and soft. "I hope I didn't spill my coffee on you and ruin your nice dress."

I could hear my blood pumping when I noticed the words this man just said were the words I'd spent the last 24 hours staring at. I looked up, my eyes widening when I saw who said the words on my arm.

This can't be right. There is no way this is my soulmate. I'm a high school history teacher. And he's. . .

My soulmate cannot be Zac Efron.

"It's alright," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "No harm, no foul."

Suddenly, he sucked in a breath. He slowly looked down at his wrist and let out a small chuckle. He looked up at me, his eyes filling with tears.

When his eyes drifted down to my left wrist, I rolled it so he could see it. He laughed and reached over, grabbing my left hand in his as he read the words on my wrist. I bit my lip when he intertwined our fingers, slowly looking up at me. I glanced down at our hands, our tattoos almost touching.

"Can I buy you some coffee?" He asked, his voice low. I hesitated, a small part of me thinking this was a weird twisted joke.

"I guess we should," I whispered.

Without letting go of my hand, Zac led me to the counter. I ordered my usual latte, my whole arm burning from his touch. I went to pay for my drink, but Zac paid for it before I could even get my wallet out of my bag.

Zac led me over to a booth in the corner, our hands never disconnecting. He politely waited for me to sit down first before taking a seat across from me, finally letting go of my hand.

All I could think was; no way. There is no way that Zac Efron is my soulmate. And how is he so relaxed about meeting his soulmate who is a complete stranger?

"So, we're soulmates," he said, laughing awkwardly.

"We are," I nodded. I cleared my throat as I wrapped my hands around my latte.

"This is kinda awkward," he chuckled. I looked up at him to see him smiling at me.

"I don't understand how people expect us to be so relaxed right now," I sighed. "You and I are complete strangers and because of a tattoo, we're soulmates."

"Well," he said, reaching over and grabbed my hands. "It's not like we're expected to run to the nearest church and get married."

I laughed, finally starting to relax. "I mean, we could always go to Vegas. I hear their drive-thru weddings can be quite beautiful."

Zac laughed, both of us relaxing. He let go of my hands and leaned back. When we stopped laughing, he was still smiling at me.

"I'm Zac," he introduced himself.

"I know," I awkwardly giggled. I felt my cheeks burning as I cleared my throat.

"Right," he smirked. "Do I get to know your name, Soulmate?"

"I don't know," I teased. "I kinda like being called, Soulmate."

He sent me a playful pout before breaking. I bit my bottom lip, my nerves resurfacing.

"Y/N," I finally told him.

"Y/N," he repeated. "Not as pretty as Soulmate, but I'll take it."

We both laughed as I playfully pulled my hands out of his. My breath got caught in my throat when the look on his face changed.

"My beautiful Y/N," he said, his voice so low it gave me chills. "Tell me about yourself."

I let out an embarrassed giggle as he leaned his elbows on the table, physically making himself look interested.

"Well," I said, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "I was born and raised in Burbank. I moved to LA to go to UCLA and I ended up getting a job at my old high school."

"You're a teacher?" He asked, perking up. I giggled at his excitement.

"Yeah," I said, tucking that same piece of hair behind my ear again. "I teach AP U.S. History."

"AP? Damn!" He laughed. "That's like the top class!"

"Kinda," I giggled.

He cleared his throat, slightly shaking his head. "So, what grades do you teach?"

"Mostly seniors," I smiled. "But I also teach a few freshman classes."

"You get them as they come in and come out."

I tilted my head, biting back a laugh when his eyes widened like he just realized what he said.

"That came out. . . So wrong," he said slowly.

"It's okay," I chuckled.

                                * * * * *

We spent the next fifteen minutes, talking about ourselves. The more of his life I heard, the more I realized we had nothing in common.

"You alright?" Zac asked after I suddenly went quiet.

"This can't be right," I said under my breath.

"Why not?" He asked, laughing slightly.

"It's just. . . You're the famous Zac Efron. I'm just a high school teacher."

I held my breath when he reached over and gently grabbed my hand, lifting my arm and turning it over to show my left wrist. He smirked as he slowly ran his thumb over my tattoo.

"See?" He said, dropping his voice. "Soulmate tattoos don't lie."

"Your soulmate should be another famous actress or a model," I stuttered. "Not a high school teacher who's been mistaken as one of her students. I mean, what are your fans going to say? Honestly, my students would lose it if they find out my soulmate is Zac Efron, but your fans might not be as excited."

Zac chuckled as he stood up and walked over to my side of the booth, sitting next to me. I sucked in a breath as he reached up and cupped my cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I held in a moan as I kissed him back. Zac slowly pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine.

"As far as I'm concerned," he whispered, "you're just the girl for me, Soulmate."

[theringers]

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

[deepdarkdelights]

Context: this is my younger sister's wedding (I'm the eldest). I am married and another of my sisters is as well, so this is the 3rd wedding in my family. My husband and I live out of state.

First: I don't even like the guy she's marrying, but I also seem to be the only one with that opinion. He's nice but a bit hot-headed and my sister is stubborn as fuck so their arguments are ridiculous and are almost always started by him.

Second: I also seem to be the only one who thinks this is going too fast. My sister got played a lot in high school by top tier douchebags so she swore off dating for a number of years, including just casual dating (completely understandable too) and was at college for like, 2 years before she met him. HOWEVER he's the first guy she's dated since high school- story goes they had three dates in the span of a week, kissed on the second, were exclusive by the third, and were engaged maybe a month or two later. And a very large part of me is very worried that she's latching onto him because he was the first guy to treat her right (or at least better than she had previously experienced) and she thinks she won't find anyone else.

Third: my husband and I live out of state so we had to fly in yesterday, and that came with all its own problems. Our flight was at 6am and the airport is about a 2 hour drive away so we left late at about 3am (staying up until then due to just not being ready to leave in general) and therefore nearly missed boarding our flight and not getting a chance to rest or eat at the airport.

So we land a couple hours later, flight isn't too bad, and make plans to get breakfast before driving to my family's so we have a last few moments together before jumping into wedding madness. We take the shuttle to the car rental place we had paid for and reserved specifically because their website said we didn't need a credit card in order to rent a car. We wait in line for 15 minutes, then get to the counter and the lady working asks for ID and the card we used to pay online. Pull out my ID and the card and she looks at it and goes "this is debit, do you have a credit card?" And we're like, "well, no, your website said we didn't need credit." And she's just "Yeah our policy changed about a year and a half ago and we haven't updated our website, you need credit"

🤬🤬🤬🤬

So we take the shuttle back to the airport where we take the cable car to the train station and then we'll ride up and have someone come pick us up. No problem really, just that we'll be without a car all weekend, but at this point we are so done. We've been up for 24+ hours and hadn't eaten in 12+. We just wanted to get to my family's and eat some food and take a nap.

But while my husband was dealing with the rental place, a friend I had been hanging out earlier in the week messages me and says "hey I got tested positive for covid"

😫😫😫😫

So we're on the train trying to figure out what we're gonna do, obviously we're gonna get tested but if our tests come back positive we're gonna be holed up in a hotel bc we can't get on the flight home and we can't stay with any of our family members- and we won't be able to attended this godforsaken wedding that we've already been thru so much shit to get thru

My dad picks us up at the train station and takes us straight to the store to pick up some rapid tests we can take- I have a mental breakdown bc i am so so fucking tired and hungry and cold (it was raining on and off). My dad takes us back to the house and we take the tests in the garage. While we're waiting my husband gets a call from his mother, who tells us (I can't make this shit up if I tried):

Overnight, an arsonist burned down five houses, and bc they were older the smoke that came from them was super toxic, so the entire town woke up coughing with sore throats (the guy was caught but the police haven't released any other info yet). So we didn't have covid (the tests came back negative too) we had just inhaled toxic smoky air for a solid hour or so while we were driving to the airport

🙃🙃🙃🙃

Fourth: when me and my other sister got married, it was our mom who was kinda the crazy mother-in-law, but for this wedding it's my sister's fiance's mother who's crazy, and after everything I have gone thru in the past pfffft 36ish hours I will not hesitate to slap a bitch. My siblings and i all have this very strong sense of passive aggressive loyalty to each other, where we can be super mean to each other but if you're outside our circle you don't get to be mean to any of us (and since I'm the oldest I have a bit more of that "dont you dare touch my siblings I Will Fuck You Up" mentality).

So to recap: I'm running on a collective 10 hours of sleep and very very little food for my younger sister's wedding to a guy I don't necessarily approve of and who's mother is crazier than mine and might end up in a fight with me if she starts pushing my already tense buttons the wrong way

🫖🫖🫖🫖

The drama and tea have been spilled. I hope this mildly entertained you during your quarantine~~ 😘😘

UPDATE: ITS RAINING

I kinda hope this wedding kills me

Oh wow you have certainly gone through it, haven't you! This was more than entertaining trust me 😂

It raining really was the cherry on top of this whole ordeal. I'm sorry it took me so long to respond to you, my professors have not been very kind when it comes to coursework while I am sick!

Well, now that the wedding is over I hope the rest went smoothly for you (especially with the mother in law) and you made it back home safe!