#Complete Commercial Cleaning

[magictouchcleaningservicesukltd]

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[vardensuk]

Shine your vehicles with Vardens Fleet Washing Services

A clean fleet is vital to promote your company’s image to the public. Vardens specialises in nationwide large-scale contracts for our fleet washing services and is the first choice for fleet managers up and down the UK. We offer a full valeting service to complement our mobile fleet wash service, which can be tailored to your company needs.

[jdhouseservices0]

Deep Cleaning Service Warrington: A Complete Guide to Services, Benefits

In the bustling town of Birchwood, Warrington, maintaining a clean and hygienic environment is crucial, especially in office spaces. As businesses thrive, so does the need for professional cleaning services that go beyond the regular dusting and sweeping. This is where J&D House Services steps in, offering top-notch deep cleaning services in Warrington. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the services provided by J&D House Services, the benefits of deep cleaning, and the associated costs.

[denverofficecleaningservice]

Commercial Floor Cleaning Services Denver

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[reasonsforhope]

"A 1-megawatt sand battery that can store up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy will be 10 times larger than a prototype already in use.

The new sand battery will eliminate the need for oil-based energy consumption for the entire town of town of Pornainen, Finland.

Sand gets charged with clean electricity and stored for use within a local grid.

Finland is doing sand batteries big. Polar Night Energy already showed off an early commercialized version of a sand battery in Kankaanpää in 2022, but a new sand battery 10 times that size is about to fully rid the town of Pornainen, Finland of its need for oil-based energy.

In cooperation with the local Finnish district heating company Loviisan Lämpö, Polar Night Energy will develop a 1-megawatt sand battery capable of storing up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy.

“With the sand battery,” Mikko Paajanen, CEO of Loviisan Lämpö, said in a statement, “we can significantly reduce energy produced by combustion and completely eliminate the use of oil.”

Polar Night Energy introduced the first commercial sand battery in 2022, with local energy utility Vatajankoski. “Its main purpose is to work as a high-power and high-capacity reservoir for excess wind and solar energy,” Markku Ylönen, Polar Nigh Energy’s co-founder and CTO, said in a statement at the time. “The energy is stored as heat, which can be used to heat homes, or to provide hot steam and high temperature process heat to industries that are often fossil-fuel dependent.” ...

Sand—a high-density, low-cost material that the construction industry discards [Note: 6/13/24: Turns out that's not true! See note at the bottom for more info.] —is a solid material that can heat to well above the boiling point of water and can store several times the amount of energy of a water tank. While sand doesn’t store electricity, it stores energy in the form of heat. To mine the heat, cool air blows through pipes, heating up as it passes through the unit. It can then be used to convert water into steam or heat water in an air-to-water heat exchanger. The heat can also be converted back to electricity, albeit with electricity losses, through the use of a turbine.

In Pornainen, Paajanen believes that—just by switching to a sand battery—the town can achieve a nearly 70 percent reduction in emissions from the district heating network and keep about 160 tons of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere annually. In addition to eliminating the usage of oil, they expect to decrease woodchip combustion by about 60 percent.

The sand battery will arrive ready for use, about 42 feet tall and 49 feet wide. The new project’s thermal storage medium is largely comprised of soapstone, a byproduct of Tulikivi’s production of heat-retaining fireplaces. It should take about 13 months to get the new project online, but once it’s up and running, the Pornainen battery will provide thermal energy storage capacity capable of meeting almost one month of summer heat demand and one week of winter heat demand without recharging.

“We want to enable the growth of renewable energy,” Paajanen said. “The sand battery is designed to participate in all Fingrid’s reserve and balancing power markets. It helps to keep the electricity grid balanced as the share of wind and solar energy in the grid increases.”"

-via Popular Mechanics, March 13, 2024

--

Note: I've been keeping an eye on sand batteries for a while, and this is really exciting to see. We need alternatives to lithium batteries ASAP, due to the grave human rights abuses and environmental damage caused by lithium mining, and sand batteries look like a really good solution for grid-scale energy storage.

--

Note 6/13/24: Unfortunately, turns out there are substantial issues with sand batteries as well, due to sand scarcity. More details from a lovely asker here, sources on sand scarcity being a thing at the links: x, x, x, x, x

[impala-dreamer]

It's Fucking Unprofessional

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ While working as a PA for Vought, Y/N has made one promise to herself: to stay the fuck away from Soldier Boy. Some promises are too easily broken…~

Soldier Boy x F!Reader

2,434 Words

NSFW. Snark. Cursing. Assholery. Fucking. 

For @jacklesversebingo “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions”

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

He was terrifying up close. 

It wasn’t just the knowledge that he could rip her apart with a simple flick of his wrist, or shove her so hard she’d splatter against the wall like a bug on a windshield. It was much worse than all that. It was the fact that he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His green eyes behind that mask were piercing… the way his muscles pulsed beneath the suit was mesmerizing… the way he walked with that bow-legged swagger was sexy as hell. Being attracted to the epic piece of shit was way more dangerous than the threat of death.  

When Y/N got the job at Vought Studios, she made a promise to her diary and herself. In no way would she get so close to him as to give away the fact that her innocent pussy dripped whenever he was around. She would ignore him entirely. Besides, his behavior was reprehensible. His attitude toward women was disgusting. His ass was so perky and tight and… No. She was going to be strong. She was going to steer clear of all that nonsense.  

Not that he’d ever pay attention to someone like her. The key aspect of her job was to be neither seen nor heard; just a person waiting in the wings to hand off a prop, run and get coffee, and clean up the dressing rooms. It would be easy to stay in the shadows, completely off his radar. 

Soldier Boy was pissed. 

He may have actually been pissed as well as just angry: he stank of rye and stale cigarettes, and fumbled over his lines more than a few times. 

For over an hour, he held the crew hostage while attempting to film his required Anti-Drug PSA. Vought was trying to score some points with the public by helping out D.A.R.E. by pimping out their celebrity supes for commercial spots. Soldier Boy was next in line and very unhappy about it. 

After the twentieth take, he demanded caffeine and production halted until Y/N returned with a styrofoam cup full of black coffee. 

Y/N held her breath and tried to walk away without really looking at him, but Soldier Boy flipped. He sniffed the drink and sneered. 

“Is this hot?” 

Y/N stepped back as he stared into her eyes, daring her to say something. A wave of arousing fear washed over her as he slammed the cup to the floor. It splintered like rotted wood and the hot liquid went everywhere. 

“Iced!” 

She jumped. 

He raged on. 

“Iced coffee!” he screamed. “It’s not hard!” 

Nerves ran down her spine and Y/N moved to grab a rag from the craft table.

“It’s fucking unprofessional!” 

A knot formed in her chest and instead of shying away, she felt a surge of defiance. 

“You’re fucking unprofessional,” she ripped under her breath. 

Soldier Boy’s head cocked to the side. She felt his eyes on the back of her neck, digging in. 

“Excuse me?” 

Y/N turned back with the cleaning rag in hand. “Hmm?” 

His jaw clenched and his upper lip twitched. “The fuck did you say to me?” 

Batting her eyes innocently, Y/N shrugged and bent down to mop up the spill. “I didn’t say anything.” 

His anger followed her down, watching as she dabbed at the floor. Leaning close, he whispered a warning. “I have super hearing, you know.”

Y/N hummed as if she found him boring even though she was screaming inside. “That must be fun for you.” 

Again, his teeth gnashed together and she swore she could feel the air around them grow hotter. A deep growl rumbled in the back of his throat and Y/N met his gaze, unfazed but terrified. He was taken aback by her bravery and somewhat impressed by her attitude.

“You know-”

The director called for attention and Soldier Boy sat back up, getting ready while keeping one eye on the mouthy PA. 

“OK! Let’s run again!”

If he got through two lines in a row, it was shocking. More than once, he stopped just to glare at Y/N. She couldn’t tell if he was contemplating snapping her neck or undressing her with his eyes, so she kept her arms crossed and her expression cool. 

“If taking drugs is uncool,” he mumbled, laughing at himself, “then I’m the most uncool motherfucker on the planet…” 

Some of the crew laughed along, but Y/N sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “You really are,” she muttered. 

His laugh died away instantly and he threw daggers with his eyes. “Fuck you.” 

Y/N cocked a brow. “Like I’d let you,” she laughed. 

Soldier Boy straightened up, surprised. His annoyance turned to interest and he licked his lips. “Oh, I think you’d let me.” 

She tongued her cheek and popped a hip. “You think?” 

“I know.” 

“Pfft.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.” 

His smile faded and she turned away, giving him a literal cold shoulder. 

The air shifted and her heart stopped when his big hand wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her back a step. 

His lips grazed her ear. “You wanna rethink that last statement, sweetheart?”

Y/N tried to wrench her arm away but his grip was absolute. She spun around to face him and nearly lost her footing. He was impossibly close and regrettably gorgeous. She gasped. 

“Get off me.” 

He blinked slowly and looked her over. He could hear her heart pounding, see the blood rush to her cheeks, smell her arousal. “You’re so… interesting.”

She swallowed hard. “W-What?” 

“Defiant and bitchy, but oh so hot for me.” 

“Fuck you, no I’m not.” Again, she twisted her arm to break free but it was no use. 

His fingers tightened, bruising her flesh. “You are,” he grinned. “I can smell it.” 

“You’re disgusting,” she spat. 

Behind them, the director tried to regain control. 

“Um- let’s uh- if we could just go one more time-” 

Soldier Boy shook his head. “No. We got it.” 

“We really didn’t,” the man pleaded. “I really think we should go again from the top.” 

“No,” he repeated, dragging his eyes down her trembling body. “That’s a wrap!” 

She wasn’t sure if he was carrying her or if they were simply moving too fast for her brain to register her feet on the ground. 

Soldier Boy broke the lock on a random office door and shoved Y/N inside. He flipped on the lights and kicked the door shut as he turned to smirk at her. 

“Now, where were we?” 

Y/N backed away, internally battling her desire and aversion. “I believe I was telling you what a piece of shit you are.” 

He laughed at her daring words. “You’re something else, you know that?”   

She shrugged, playing it cool. “It’s been said.”

“Yeah, but not by me.” With a smug smile, he pulled the mask from his face and ran a hand through his hair. 

Y/N felt her defenses crack. Her vision blurred for a second. “Um… I… really don’t care what you think, actually.” 

He clicked his tongue and took a step closer. “I think you do, actually.” 

Her heart skipped two beats in a row and then struggled to catch up. “Actually, you can fuck off.”  

“Maybe.” Soldier Boy grinned and closed the space between them. “Or…” He reached for her throat and her body tensed. Instead of a death grip, he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close. He was gentle, but she could feel the strength pulsing underneath his touch. “I can fuck you.”

She couldn’t think of a protest that would even remotely come off as true but it didn’t matter anyway. Before she could speak, his lips were on her and her mind melted. He slid his tongue between her lips and her breath stopped. He ran his left hand across her tits and her legs went weak. 

When he pulled back, she swayed forward, caught in his pull and utterly on fire for him. 

His laugh was smug. His lips were wet and plump. 

“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased. “But it was a nice try.” 

Every bit of resistance faded into his grin and Y/N dove at him, grabbing a fistful of the fabric collar loose around his throat. He laughed into her hungry kiss and set his hands on her hips. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather, and slammed her down onto the desk like she was simply a toy for his amusement. 

He rocked into her and Y/N moaned loudly. His cock was hard and she reached down, rubbing him through the spandex tights. 

“How- how do these come off?” she whimpered, tugging at his bottoms. 

Another deep kiss blew her mind and Soldier Boy held her chin in two fingers, stretching her throat and setting her face where he wanted. She held the pose while he backed away and stripped for her. Layer after layer of forest green and woody brown fell away and Y/N clenched her thighs tight as more muscle was revealed. 

“Fuck… you’re gorgeous,” she breathed. 

He smirked and spread his feet apart. “I know.” Grabbing his dick, he stroked himself slowly and nodded at her. “Now you.” 

Y/N shivered and hopped down from the desk. Nervously, she tugged at the hem of her oversized periwinkle sweater and yanked it up. 

Soldier Boy sucked his teeth. “No. Slowly.”

She took a breath and started again, this time lifting away the soft polyester slowly and deliberately. Next came her jeans and he hummed in lustful admiration as she tugged the acid-washed denim down her thighs.  

“Very nice.” 

Embolden, Y/N turned and shook her ass for him as she unhooked her bra. 

“Go on…” 

She tossed the garment over her shoulder. 

“Keep going.”

Aching with anticipation, she slid her hands into her panties and inched them down, bending at the hips and showing him everything. 

“Fucking hell…” 

He was on her in a second; big hands tight on her hips, hard cock snug between her thighs. He settled there for a moment, letting her juices drip down onto his throbbing shaft. She leaned back and he scratched his fingers up her sides and scooped her tits into his warm palms.

“Fuck… your hands are so big,” she mewed. 

He jerked his hips and the tip of his cock slid against her clit. 

“Just my hands?” 

Y/N bit her lip and wiggled against him. “Let’s find out.”

He flipped her over like it was nothing and threw her down on the edge of the desk. She spread her legs wide and he set up camp between them. 

“You ready?” he asked, already lining up. 

She nodded breathlessly and arched her back off the desk, begging. “Do it. Please!”

It was almost painful the way he snapped his hips into her. His thick cock spread her apart and her flesh burned at the pull. She bit back a scream when he pressed all the way in; dropped her jaw when he tugged her hips down off the desk. His blunt nails sunk into her soft curves, nearly drawing blood. She held her breath. He thrust his cock deeper inside. She lost her mind. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” It was all she could say and it amused him like nothing else. 

With a grunt, Soldier Boy lifted her legs high and pushed forward, bending her in half. The new angle pushed him in so deep Y/N thought she could feel his cock tap against the base of her throat. She gagged and her eyes rolled. He laughed and dipped down to lick at her lips. 

“What a good little bitch,” he teased. “Taking my cock so good.” 

She moaned with each hard thrust and her tongue rolled out of her mouth. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. There was nothing but mindless, pounding pleasure and his bright green eyes. 

He ran his tongue up hers and hummed. “That’s a good idea.” 

In a flash, she was on her knees, swaying side to side as he stroked his cock. His fist was a blur, her eyes were white. 

“Open wide.” 

Y/N dropped her jaw and he slid inside. 

“Suck.” 

Her lips clamped down and she took a deep breath, pulling at his velvety skin. Her tongue undulated against the pulsing vein of his big cock and Soldier Boy fit his giant hand on the back of her head. He held her in place and bucked his hips, jabbing his cock down her throat. She choked on him, moaning in bliss and protest as spit spilled from the corners of her mouth and coated her tits. 

“Fucking perfect,” he grit, throwing his head back and enjoying her desperate whimpers and the tightness of her throat. 

Her eyes began to water and he could hear her lungs screaming for air. He set her free. 

“Fuck!” Y/N wobbled on her weak knees and nearly fell to the floor. 

Soldier Boy caught her quickly and set her back on her feet, bent over on the desk. Her tits smashed against the wood and he kicked her legs apart. 

“You’re one hell of a PA,” he praised. 

Her cunt pulsed as he ran the tip of his cock across its lips. “It’s… my… job…” 

He grinned. “Sure is.” He pushed inside. “Gotta give the talent your full attention.” He slapped her ass hard. “Give them anything they want.” He grabbed the back of her neck and lifted her off of the desk, arching her spine awkwardly. “Isn’t that right?” 

She moaned. “Yes!”

“Correct.” 

He let her go and she fell back down, just a ragdoll for him to fuck to his satisfaction. 

When he was done he slapped her ass, leaving a welt behind as a souvenir. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, already forgetting about her as he tugged his suit back on and fixed his hair. 

Y/N crumbled to the floor, her legs spread wide, her back against the desk. She sat there for a long while, feeling his palm print burn on her bottom and his cum leak from her cunt. He didn’t look back as he left, didn’t even shut the door. 

Soldier Boy disappeared down the hall and Y/N shook herself, wondering how the hell she’d broken her promise and let him get to her. 

Not that she was mad about it. 

Just sore. 

[blogport]

EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (3)

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[a-dauntless-daffodil]

horse girl charlie morningstar, her partner in a cool hat and eye patch vaggie, and the Hazbin Horse Rehabilitation Ranch- where shit people are introduced to horses no one else wants and hopefully no one get trampled to death (niffty this means YOU)

other key features include

vaggie riding a small working horse and ppl keep calling it a pony and she keeps telling them It's Not A Fucking Pony

charlie and her beloved mule, who never listens to her

angel dust wanting to learn dressage bc it looks like "fancy sexy riding" and also he was banned from mentioning the words "bare back" or "bucking bronco"

husk constantly found drunk and asleep in his horse's stall while said horse nuzzles him

niffty obsessing over grooming all the horses down to their individual hairs, yes even the bad tempered horses, yes she likes it when they shmoosh her against a wall or step on her foot

alastor looking calm collected and in control on his horse as he wanders off from the group and never participates in activities bc his horse won't listen to him either and he's too proud to admit it

sir pentious keeps trying to make his horse look and preform the best using his own new designs for tack and gear and it always backfires but he's the go-to one if your saddle needs adjusting or fixing

his egg boiz are a flock of chickens

his horse keeps eating the chickens' eggs and he keeps crying over it, even when charlie tells him they wouldn't have hatched into chicks anyway

lucifer lives in a shack somewhere around here with his collection of customized my little pony brushible toys

the locals in the nearest town still talk about lilith's incredible horse whispering skills before she up and vanished

charlie gushes about these stories a LOT but laughs nervously if asked about her own way with horses

she tries.

her way of making sudden loud squees and eeeks and excited yells and wild energetic movements doesn't fit well with most of the horses

she also slips up and gets flaming mad at anything that threatens her family's ranch or anyone who mistreats a horse

angry charlie is Scary Charlie

her mule doesn't care tho it knows she's a pushover treat giver

when vaggie first figured out what was happening she spent weeks with her own horse slowly getting it used to all sorts of weird charlie-related things, including stealing charlie's jacket a few times to flap it wildly while chasing her horse around the paddock singing loud show tunes

vaggie's horse is the only one that'll let charlie ride it without being a nervous wreck

charlie maybe cried a little when she went for that first ride

vaggie has a shot gun

she spends a lot of time checking on things riding far out and alone and keeps the gun with her just in case

she's never actually threatened any of their human boarders with the shot gun but she does have an unnerving tendency to check and clean it whenever she's pissed and trying to keep some shred of her patience intact

every week there's at least one night set aside for an evening dance after dinner and yes chaggie was doing it long before any other ppl showed up

valentino showed up once and charlie chased him off the premises with vaggie's shotgun

the ranch used to have a television

now it has a radio tower

no one except alastor is happy about it but his radio commercial revenue is paying for most of this so they all keep mostly quiet about their grumbling and record voice lines for ads when he looms over them with a script

vaggie swears the time she shot out the radio tower's windows while arguing with alastor over her and charlie's voice lines was a complete accident

razzle and dazzle are ranch dogs who keep track of the horses when they're out grazing and both are COMPLETELY in tune with charlie, been with her since childhood, the three can basically read each others' minds and watching them all work together is like watching magic

(vaggie also knows how to work with them but has to use more obvious signals instead of just tiny changes in body language)

vaggie keeps trying to gently remind charlie there are events for dog handling she could enter in

but the ranch was lilith's passion and rehabilitating rejected horses her dream and charlie is not not giving up on that OR on the rejected people her mom always was so proud of and charlie is NOT letting herself think for one moment that her mom isn't coming home

speaking of coming home

chaggie met when charlie was out riding after a storm looking for a lost horse and found it staring curiously down at a half dead lady lying in a ditch with a freshly gouged out eye and burns on her back

the half dead lady claimed she shot out her own eye by accident and got hit by lightning

or maybe fell asleep on a campfire uhh

charlie was way too busy figuring out normal social interactions again and also how to patch up a pretty lady without being a complete fool about it to question vaggie's super realistic tale

vaggie was planning on staying just long enough to get on her feet again- especially after she started catching feelings watching charlie being sweet with all the stubborn horsies- and seeing how much charlie was struggling with the ranch without having someone else to look after

she was even gonna steal a horse on the way out

and got caught by charlie in the act

charlie just smiled sadly, told vaggie she was glad she wasn't heading off alone, told vaggie's horse to take care of her, and then went back to the daily chores

vaggie caught up with her an hour later

she'd had to properly put her horse away and get breakfast started first, for after they've finished up the morning stuff

they've been running the ranch together ever since

keekee the cat is the actual boss on the ranch and got her name from how doors always open for her (bc she bothers whoever's around until they drop what they're doing to obey her)

cherri bomb stops by once just to laugh at angel dust and ignore pentious but ends up being the only one who figures out why the new horse is spooking at everything- it's got hearing loss, and she's got it too from doing endless unlicensed fireworks shows, and she's totally just sticking around until the horse gets used to things here. totally

[storiesforallfandoms]

just for us ~ johnny depp

word count: 1790

request?: yes!

“Hii can you please write a Johnny Depp imagine where its the 90s, you are both famous, and the press keeps beging you  expose your relationship?”

description: being famous at such a young age makes it hard to keep anything a secret, but you’re determined to make sure your relationship is just for the two of you and not for the media

pairing: young!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

I started acting when I was five years old. It was a commercial, and I had all of 30 seconds of screen time. But that 30 seconds was enough to impress the director apparently, because two years later when he was hired to direct some new sitcom, he called my parents looking to cast me as one of the main kids. The show only lasted one season, but one season was all it took to kickstart my career.

Becoming an actor at such a young age meant losing a “normal” life. I never went to normal school, normal prom or graduation. I never really had normal friends, just co-stars and other child actors. And I never had any privacy. Once I became a household name, privacy went completely out the window as I was followed by paparazzi and fans daily. Not to mention the creeps who came out in droves when I turned 18.

Nothing in my life was private. Nothing except Johnny.

We met on set of a movie we were working on together, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was going to fall for him. I tried not to. Dating as a celebrity was basically impossible, even more so when it was with another celebrity. But i couldn’t stop myself, and when he told me he had fallen for me too, I was a goner.

Being a fellow actor, Johnny knew exactly how to keep our relationship a secret. He knew which restaurants had the most hidden away seating, which ones had the most private parking so we could actually show up and leave together. He knew how to sneak in and out of my place without paparazzi noticing, and how to do the same with me at his place.

It worked for a long time. Like, two years at least. No one had any idea we were together. Until a fan spotted us out together. They didn’t see us acting like a couple, but apparently us hanging out together years after our movie had come out was suspicious enough to get the rumor mill going. Suddenly, every interview we did had us asked at least once about our relationship. But we never broke. We kept insisting we were just friends, and we kept our relationship a secret.

It was early in the morning when my alarm clock started to blare. I groaned as I rolled over to turn it off. The bright red numbers read “7:00am”. I groaned again, sleep fighting to take me again.

I smiled as Johnny wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed my neck. “Why are we awake so early?”

“I have a morning interview at 9,” I told him. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

He squeezed me a little tighter. “Absolutely not.”

“I have no choice, J. I can’t cancel so close to the interview.”

“Just don’t show up. Problem solved.”

I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still drooping with fatigue, but he was trying his best to focus on me. I smiled at him and kissed his nose.

“You can stay here and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“You better be,” he sleepily muttered.

I chuckled and finally wiggled free from his grasp.

Getting ready for interviews never took long. I didn’t have to do my makeup because the studio makeup artist would do it for me when I got there, and an outfit was chosen for me by my stylist prior to the day. All I had to do was get breakfast, clean myself up, and get dressed in my pre-chosen outfit. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a car horn honking outside, signaling that my ride to the interview had arrived.

I took one last peak into my bedroom. Johnny was sound asleep again. I smiled and quietly moved to my bed. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before rushing out the door as the car honked again.

I was rushed through the makeup and placed in an uncomfortable chair within 20 minutes. I tried not to shift too much in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Morning talk shows always had the worst chairs for some reason.

The host walked onto set and greeted me cheerily. I smiled back at her, wishing I had her chipper energy for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had.

She sat down across from me and we were given the five minute warning. I adjusted myself in my seat one last time, then smiled as the cameraman announced we were live.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to our special guest, (Y/N),” the host said, gesturing to me. The crowd cheered as I smiled and waved to them. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to be here!”

The host asked me about my new movie, and I went over the talking points I had been given for every interview. It was going as smoothly as most interviews did, until the host said, “I have to ask, is there anyone special in your life?”

I kept the smile on my face, but I was sure it looked much more strained now. “Nope. I’m absolutely single pringle.”

“Really? There’s not even anything going on with you and Johnny Depp?”

I glanced over at my manager, who looked about ready to shut the whole interview down. Most celebrities have a few off limits questions that interviewers are told they can’t ask about. It’s usually super personal and private stuff that they want to keep private. For me, the one topic that was off limits was Johnny. It wasn’t just because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but it was also because my management and I didn’t want all my interviews to suddenly be just about Johnny and not about my work.

It was clear from the look on my manager’s face that this host was told my limitations, and she was choosing to ignore them. This was her attempt at getting a huge scoop before anyone else so that she could boost the ratings of her show.

I knew I couldn’t just stop the interview. It was a live show, stopping would just cause a scene that I knew would do more harm than good. So, I took a very subtle deep breath and said, “Johnny has been my friend since we worked together years ago. There’s nothing more between us besides friendship.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re aware of the rumors about you two. Everyone is dying for you to finally confirm that you’re together.”

“Well, everyone will just have to keep waiting because I am not confirming what’s not true. Also, I think it’s incredibly disrespectful and invasive to keep pushing this topic when Johnny and I have both said we aren’t dating and like to have our privacy. I don’t get many things that are just for me, but I want my relationship to be one of those things.”

My manager whispered something to the cameraman, who then signaled for the show to go to commercial. Once the cameras were off, my manager demanded for me to be un-miced so we could leave. I ignored the host’s apologies as the crew took off my mic and my manager beckoned for me to come with her.

As we left the studio, she nudged my shoulder and said, “You handled that amazingly, kid.”

I had no other obligations for the day, so my driver took me back home. I was happy to be back in the comfort of my own home after that interview.

The smell of food greeted me at the door. I smiled at myself as I made my way to the kitchen. As I expected, Johnny was stood at the stove, cooking up some breakfast. He was still in his pajama pants with no shirt on. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He leaned into my touch, allowing me to place a kiss on his bare shoulder.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“The interview was cut short,” I responded.

“So I heard.” I looked up at him in confusion. “I woke up just in time to turn on the interview.”

I groaned. “So you saw the whole thing?” He nodded. I buried my head in his shoulder. “We told her not to ask, I swear.”

He moved in my arms, turning so he could face me. He wrapped his arms around me, too, as I moved mine around his neck instead.

“I think you handled that whole situation very well,” he said. “It was pretty clear you were caught off guard by the question, but you still handled it maturely and with more respect than I think she deserved.”

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene over it, even though I really wanted to just walk out if she had asked.”

“Would’ve made for better television if you had just stormed out.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best that I didn’t then.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. Any tension I had left from that day immediately melted the moment his lips touched mine.

“We’ll have to tell people eventually,” I said with a sigh, resting my head against his. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”

“We’ve done so for two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve already gotten caught once. There’s just no proof of us actually being together for the tabloids to run with. But if we slipped up once, it can happen again. Then we’ll have to tell people about us.” I sighed and added, mainly to myself, “We’ll ever get a moment of peace again.”

“It’ll happen eventually, but until then I’m happy to have our private moments,” Johnny said. He kissed the top of my head and added, “But the day I get to loudly say you’re mine will be a good day for me. I want everyone to know eventually that I have the most amazing woman as my girlfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Good.”

He kissed me again, but pulled away quicker than I wanted. I tried to pull him back in, but he just shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want the food to burn. The last thing we need is everyone finding out we’re dating because I burned your house down.”

I chuckled. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the two of us.”

I nuzzled close to him as he turned back to the stove. “I’ll never say no to your cooking.”

[gothhabiba]

please predict the various stages of the “are parades gentrification?” discourse

[based on this post]

Around Thanksgiving someone points out that the Macy's Day parade (in the 1920s and 30s usa) can be analysed as part of a push against ragamuffin parades, in which children dressed as houseless beggars would go around begging for candy. The anti-begging pro-commercial sentiment that regarded department-store-sponsored parades as good, clean fun, while regarding an earlier 'folk' tradition as an annoyance and a chaotic misuse of public space (especially since it evoked begging), is part of a pattern of corporatising and 'purifying' public space in NYC.

Someone vagueblogs about how obviously completely laughable it is to claim that "parades are gentrification" (even though the original post never used this term or framing). "The Village Holiday Parade is extremely queer, guys. And it's obvious that OP is a white person who has never heard of Carnival." From here a couple side-eddies of discourse break out about the usage of the term "queer" as an "umbrella term" and whether white people can go to Carnival.

People start sending the OP of the inciting post mawkish asks about how much they love their local nowhere town's special Thanksgiving parade and is it really, really wrong to go :(

Someone makes a post like "it is so clear that none of you have ever read anything on what the term 'gentrification' means and are just going by vibes."

People agreeing with the OP point out the corporatisation of Pride. This of course leads to discourse about kink at Pride, corporation floats at Pride, PDA and "straight-passing" couples at Pride, &c. The terms "homonationalism" and "pinkwashing" get thrown around. Someone claims that the very concept of such a thing as "pinkwashing" is homophobic since it ignores the fact that gay people are oppressed or something.

Someone is like um why are we arguing about whether Thanksgiving parades are good or bad while paying no attention to colonialism. Who cares if your parade on stolen land is queer or not. This gets completely ignored.

Some people argue that different parades in different locations take place for different reasons and promote different ideologies. This breaks off into another discourse tributary about various countries' Independence Day parades and whether nationalism on the part of an oppressed group or colonised nation is good or bad.

Most people however insist upon arguing about whether all parades are good or bad and take turns listing half-remembered examples of a parade being good or bad as though they are meaningfully arguing with each other.

At some point the discourse turns to whether Carnival is an example of "cultural Christianity."

The entire time no one will define what they include in their usage of the term "parade."

[magictouchcleaningservicesukltd]

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[chrisevansonly]

𝑷𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕? | 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒛

☁︎ carlos sainz x female reader

☁︎ when the calendar hits october your kitchen is turned into a commercial kitchen (as carlos says) and you can never have too much pumpkin…

☁︎ no warnings, just some fluffy, teasing goodness:)

☁︎ okay first this is so bad but wow i feel like october is going by SO fast im genuinely confused as to where the time goes. i’ve been really enjoying all of these so far and am actually getting into writing more and more <3

In hindsight Carlos almost wishes he hadn’t stepped foot into the kitchen, but the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin enticed him down from his office, his curiosity getting the better of him. When he turned the corner to see what you were up to his eyes widened, a various amounts of loaves, cookies, muffins, cupcakes you name it, you’d baked it.

“Qué explotó aquí”

Carlos’s voice caused you to turn a smile on your face

“Nothing exploded amor, i’m backing all my pumpkin treats”

“Pumpkin what?” he responded, leaning against the island reaching his finger towards the icing on a cupcake only to have you smack his hand away

“No touching!!! These aren’t all for you!”

“Alright, alright, i’ll keep my hands to myself”

You had flour on your face, your apron was covered in stains from the hours you’d been down here but everything was finally completed

“Ven aquí”

Obliging you walked over, Carlos’s hand coming up to swipe away the flour on your cheek, a soft smile on his face before leaning down to kiss you

“Thank you for letting me blow up our kitchen for a few hours, I promise I made some treats just for you and I to have…though next time ferrari wants this amount of food, please give me a heads up up”

He laughed nodding

“I can do that, I didn’t even know you were doing this for them”

“Charles and Fred asked me too, it’s for the event this weekend”

Ferrari was hosting a fall gala this weekend and knowing you loved baking, had asked you to put some things together and who were you to say no when they had asked so nicely

“Do you need some help to clean up?” he asked, untying your apron and helping you slide it off

“I did most of it as I went, would you help me pack everything up?”

Smiling he nodded, making sure to listen to your directions as you handed him containers and labels so everything would remain organized and neat for when you needed to bring everything to the gala this saturday. Carlos was always hands on when it came to anything you did whether it be on your own or together, something you’d always loved about him.

“So do I get you all to myself now or is the kitchen keeping you hostage for the rest of the day..?”

he teased as you rolled your eyes playfully

“Well i’m sure I can free up some space for you hermoso”

“Yeah?”

Leaning up to press a kiss to his lips you pulled back to smile

“As long as you’ll try at least one of the things I baked”

“Of course, I need to pumpkinify myself”

You stopped before beginning to laugh

“Baby did you just say pumpkinify?”

He shrugs which only makes you laugh more, leaning into him as he picks up a cupcake

“Well then mi amor, prepare to be pimpkinified Mr.Sainz”

The happiness only continued watching as his eyes closed biting into the cupcake, a tell tale sign you’d done another great job, Carlos would argue you always cooked and baked the most delicious things. All you knew is you had an amazing boyfriend and taste tester in one, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Even if he started saying the word pumpkinify.

[generalsdiary]

a tired gem

Aventurine x Dr. Ratio

warnings: description of overstimulation (not the sexual one)

word count: less than 1k

a/n: back again with another mental health + comfort oneshot about the gays lol, not beta read, we go to superhell with aventurine and castiel

description: Aventurine comes home overstimulated and tired, later comforted by Dr. Ratio

Aventurine's hands felt like they were on fire, they felt swollen, the day was too hot. he is rapidly taking the gloves off his hands, the pretty golden rings off his fingers, the expensive watch slipping from his wrist- and running them under a cold stream of water. Aventurine raises his head, meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

despite the years passing, and him getting older - it still comes back to bite him in the ass. the way his skin feels like it is burning, the overanalyzing of too many people around him – because what if he could be in danger, or even what if someone calls him a fraud, or sees through his oh-so fragile façade. there was too much noise- too many conversations surrounding him, too many unpleasant and various smells- it brings it all back. the starving scorching hot days of little Kakavasha, the slavery of "blondie"... that feeling of which he doesn't even wish the recall the memories of. he feels the repulsion of any human touch settling back in him.

he had gotten better, he knows- Aventurine repeats in his head, he knows how to deal with others and exist normally. how to keep his clothes straight, clean and his shoes polished. how to appear wealthy and smell like a perfume commercial.

Aventurine takes a deep breath. it does little to calm him down, the lukewarm air filling his lungs where a crisp cold air would feel much better to him in the moment.

after rapidly taking his clothes off, and gently folding them even in this moment when he is stressed because how could he just throw those clothes away… after all, they are his mask, his stage presence so to speak, and for Aeon’s sake the price alone could feed every person on his long gone planet. he sits on the shower floor and allows the water to cool down his body- just like the rain of Sigonia-IV did.  Aventurine got over it, he learned to accept and even relish in human contact- with chosen people, yet he cannot even imagine being perceived in this moment. the mere thought of it makes him squeeze his eyes shut in pain.

biting his bottom lip, which shakes slightly in anger and tiredness, he stands up. he has to take care of himself- create a safe environment- and then if he must, wallow in the pain which is overstimulation.

the water washes away any bump from a stranger passing by, any phantom touch that didn't actually happen, but he still had to mentally prepare himself for it just in case it did, any scent which isn't his own. the clean, rough texture of the towel feels pleasant on his skin as he dries up and puts on comfortable clothes.

with complete silence and everything in its right place, he lies on the bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. familiar steps approach the bedroom door and the figure leans against the frame. "rough day, dear gambler?"

Aventurine's eyes meet Veritas', not saying a thing. to the doctor, it speaks louder than words. the apparent smirk fading off, his body language turning a tad softer and he exhales. he is quick to deduce exactly how his counterpart feels. Veritas is well aware that any sound or even a question that requires verbal communication would be awful to Aventurine at this moment hence he, with a soft step, walks over to the bed and lies down beside him. not close to touch him accidentally- with a healthy distance, yet still there.

Aventurine appreciates it, the doctor had already learned how he can get... how rough it can be. feeling exhaustion wash over him, he moves to his side, and those breathtaking gem-like eyes close, letting the poor blond man rest under the watchful eyes of the older man.

a couple of hours later, he wakes up, his eyes opening to be met with a quiet Veritas reading a book in the same place, unmoving except for the occasional page turn. Aventurine quietly observes, obviously noticed by Veritas. the doctor surely noticed the shift in his, now awake, breathing, and the colorful eyes opening to stare at him.

he grounds himself in reality and in the moment, taking shorter breaths and shifting to stretch his body a bit, taking care of the soreness. he feels better, soothed... his head is quiet, and his body feels okay to exist in the present, to exist now. Aventurine outstretches his arm, and hand, barely noticeable, tugs on Veritas' shirt, causing him to move his gaze to Aventurine. beat. he hums quietly, giving him a nod in silent question. it feels inviting and safe, Aventurine moves his body closer, into the taller man's side. as he does, Veritas closes the book putting it away, and moves his arm so that Aventurine can rest his head on his collarbone.

the second part of grounding. comforting touch, from a safe person with a safe scent. there is a silent appreciation for the doctor’s frequent baths and cleanliness. Aventurine's eyes close with a soft sigh, it feels right, it feels comfortable. Veritas' hand, at first, very gently moves through the blond locks, after a few seconds of body language analysis, he continues caressing his hair. Ratio's other hand moves to his face, his thumb caressing for a moment Aventurine's cheekbone. "better?" he hums in a deep tone with a rumble in his chest.

those gorgeous watercolor eyes open, the softest smile forming on Aventurine's face and a small nod. "yes"

a/n: yes, the ‘watercolor eyes’ is a reference to the song Dear Arkansas Daughter

[gogobootz1]

Paperback Writer

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: When Bradley finds a stray journal at the Hard Deck, he makes it his personal mission to return it to its owner. But not before reading what's inside.

Word Count: 2.4k

Top Gun Masterlist

You've spent the last four hours at this bar and still haven't come up with a thing. The newest page in your notebook stares back at you, entirely blank. Well, blank, save for the water ring your mojito has left on it. Only the ice cubes have been left for a while now, and you sip sadly at them as you stare off at the water. Maybe a beach day will inspire you.

Sighing, you close your notebook and push it toward the wall. You don't want to think about the deadline that is slowly closing in on you. A new book, and only about two months left to complete it. It had been three, but you've spent the last month at a complete loss.

This whole night, going to dinner, going to a bar, has been with the intention of finding inspiration. You still haven't found it, so now it's time to find your way home. Pushing yourself away from the table, you peel yourself from your chair and settle up with the nice lady at the bar.

You look out at the ocean again on your walk home. It's extremely nice of your agent to let you stay at her and her wife's beach home. Pam had granted you this accommodation in the hopes it would kickstart your writing. To the extent of her knowledge, it has. She's been worried about you after you argued with the publishing company over a sequel. You fought tooth and nail for the opportunity to work on something totally new. After the commercial success of your debut novel, however, they were reluctant to pass up their chance at a sequel.

Your publishing company clearly hadn't been expecting such an exorbitant amount of copies to sell. Frankly, neither had you. By some stroke of luck or divine intervention, Taylor Swift picked up your book, read it, and posted it on her Instagram story. Stores could hardly keep it on shelves after that.

Now your publishers are simply hoping to milk the cash cow. You can't really blame them, but soon, when you don't have a second novel to give them, they're going to blame you.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Thanks for cleaning up, you two," Penny calls from behind the bar. Maverick had practically begged Bradley to stay and help so that he and Penny could start their date early. After some negotiating, he happily acquiesced.

"No problem, Penny," Rooster calls back, sending a smug look at Pete, who narrows his eyes at him. They're just about finished wiping tables, and he can tell Mav is more than ready to leave.

Bradley turns to wipe the last table but stops when he sees a leather-bound journal sitting near the window. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands.

"Done. Let's go, Pen," Mav says, rushing his girlfriend. Penny finally drops the rag she'd been wiping the bar with.

"I've still gotta lock up," she says, lightly mocking.

"I can do it, Penny," Rooster says, not taking his eyes off the journal.

"Thanks, kid," Mav smiles, whisking his girlfriend away. "Keys are on the bar. I owe you one!"

Bradley just barely hears Penny's protests as Pete rushes her out. He figures he'd better get home, himself. Giving the table a cursory wipe, he heads toward the bar to grab the keys.

Suddenly his eyes land on the lost and found bucket. Most of the Hard Deck's patrons are locals and regulars. The bin is almost always empty, and when it isn't, people always come back for whatever's inside.

Bradley looks at the journal again. Surely no one would be coming back for this tonight, though. And would they really notice if it had been flicked through? Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Bradley takes a stool at the bar and starts reading.

After a few pages, he starts to realize just what the journal is. It's no diary, none of the juicy details of someone's personal life that he had nosily been hoping for. No. It's a book, or some sort of story, at least. It's a good one, too. Bradley takes a sidelong glance at the clock and finds he's stayed for an hour longer than he intended.

He grabs the keys and locks everything up for Penny, not bothering to put his find in the lost and found.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bradley can’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, but he's certain that it wasn’t before he’d read the vast majority of the journal. His neck is stiff from crashing on his couch, but he has a new interest in finding whoever wrote this. 

He hasn't been that interested in a book in a while, and he'd be remiss if the author doesn't get their work back. Especially when the work is so incredible. Bradley's never considered himself the most avid reader. He only reads when he's got the time and wouldn't rather be watching the game. This book, however, has him hooked. He thinks it should be on shelves, selling out all over the world. He only needs to find this person to tell them that.

Where do people write their names in their journals?

He makes a face, confronted by his own stupidity, and flips to the front page. Sure enough, on the back of the cover is a woman's name and address. Bradley's not quite sure if people knock on each other's doors nowadays, or if that's entirely creepy, but he's willing to find out.

Once his fist is inches away from her door, Bradley hesitates before knocking. Is it creepy that he's here? Is it creepy that he read the journal? He's willing to admit that one. Should he tell the author he read it at all? Maybe he should pretend he didn't. Can he fake being a Good Samaritan when he really wants to ask this woman about her writing? He doesn't have time to answer these questions for himself before the door swings open on its own.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You recoil when you realize someone's standing on the front porch. "Hello?" You're certain you don't know this man. He's too pretty for you to know him, and you'd at least remember him if you did.

"Hi," he responds stiltedly.

You look at him questioningly, "can I help you?"

"Yes! Actually," he holds up your journal, "is this yours?"

"Oh my god," you snatch your notebook out of his hands, "Where'd you find it?"

"You must've left it at the bar last night," he shrugged.

"Well, thanks," you smile, putting it in your tote bag.

"No problem, yeah. Wouldn't want to lose all that work," he nods. You look up suddenly.

"You read it?"

The man grimaces when he realizes he's outed himself. "Sorry," he cringes, "I'm too nosy for my own good. But can I just say that this is incredible? Really! This could be a book!"

Your face falls, and you look at him blankly, "it is." 

"No!" He shakes his head. "I mean- well, yes, it is. And that's a great attitude to have, but what I'm trying to say is that you need to find a publisher. This is-"

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. Reaching into your giant beach bag, you grab your sunglasses and shove them onto your face. Stepping out onto the porch, you grab a real copy of your book from your bag and plop it in his hands. "That’s really not my problem right now, hot stuff. Have a good one,” you lock up your house and start walking towards the beach.

He doesn't follow you until a few seconds later.

"You mean you're already a published author?" You hear from behind you. You roll your eyes and keep walking, but he easily catches up. "What I read was just-"

"The prototype to what seven million American women have already consumed? Yeah," you nod.

"Holy shit!" He says, and you just hum in agreement. "So wait, what is your problem then?" You stop in the middle of the path. You haven't even said it out loud yet.

"They want another one," you admit quietly.

"That's great!" He says excitedly. You slowly turn and remove your sunglasses to level him with a glare, "...or not?"

"No, stranger, it's not great."

"I'm Bradley," he interrupts.

You barrel on, "You know when they want the sequel by?" Bradley shakes his head. "The end of next month!" You practically shout, and he cringes.

"And how much do you have done?"

Your face falls. "One," you say reluctantly, holding up a solitary finger.

"Chapter?" He asks hopefully.

"Word!"

Bradley grimaces, "What's the word?" You huff.

"'The' and the thing is, I don't even like it. I'm gonna go back and delete it." You give an exaggerated shrug, seemingly distraught.

"That's probably a bad idea," he says gently.

"Oh? And what do you know about writing novels?" Your tone is biting.

"Not a damn thing, but I know a thing or two about speed. At a certain point, you just have to keep going," he offers.

"Thank you for that wisdom, speed racer," you snap, sauntering away.

He stands there stunned. 

“Wait!" Bradley jogs to catch up to where you're still marching onto the beach.

As soon as he's next to you, you barrel on. “How am I supposed to give them a sequel to a story I thought was over?” 

“Huh?” He feels like he's still playing catch-up as he matches your pace.

“And I told them - I swore to God that if they made me write a sequel, I'd probably end up accidentally plagiarizing any given Remington Steele episode. But, nooooooo they insisted,” you vent.

“Remington Steele?” Bradley raises a brow.

“Okay, you don’t get to judge my 80s preferences when you look like that!” You gesture to his general appearance, Hawaiian shirt, porn stache, and all. Not that it's not working for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

"I've done everything. Really. Everything to try and inspire some writing. I go outside," you gesture to the outdoors around you. "I've switched the font on my computer to comic sans," Bradley visibly grimaces in response to this, and you nod at him. "Hell, yesterday I went on a run."

"I don't feel like that's all that abnormal," he ventures.

You look at him, stricken, "I've never been on a run."

"Never?"

"Not in my life," you confirm. "It didn't even help, and now my legs hurt."

"It does kind of seem like you're hobbling," he nods.

Your eyes widen, "Gee, thanks," you bite out.

"You can probably chalk it up to poor form," Bradley tries to console you. "You're supposed to land on the front of your foot when you're running."

You shake your head. "They always want to teach you something," you mumble.

"What was that?" He looks over innocently. The two of you stand at the entryway to the beach. You decide it's time to make your goodbyes to the near stranger you've confessed half your current life problems to.

"Look, that's very nice of you," your words lack some sincerity. "You seem like a nice guy, and you're very attractive, but I don't really want to get better at running. What I want is to get better at writing, which is my job, and usually, I can do it. But right now, I'm broken, so what I will do is lay in the sun and crisp like a piece of fried chicken. Bye, now!" You say cheerily, placing your sunglasses over your eyes and bounding away towards an appealing-looking plot of sand.

All Bradley can do is watch as his new favorite author walks off. He drives home and finishes the official, hand-gifted copy of your book in one sitting.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A week later, Bradley is once again at the Hard Deck. This time it's Mav's birthday, and the whole squad is celebrating before they all go their separate ways. The Navy gave everyone a month off after the Uranium mission, so this is simultaneously a celebration and a goodbye.

He steps out onto the deck to enjoy the ocean view. Bradley is pleased to find a familiar figure that lies a few meters away from the bar.

"Let me guess, you're crisping like a piece of chicken again?" You hear a voice call from above you. Suspicious of the intrusion on your private beach sulking session, you look up to find the handsome man who'd tried to return your journal the other day.

"Actually, I'm boiling like a lobster," you correct.

"Ah, my mistake," Bradley nods sagely. "Mind if I sit?"

"Okay..." you agree, silently questioning his motives.

"I had an idea," he starts. "The main character in the first book," you nod, encouraging him to continue. "You mentioned her younger sister."

"I did," you agree, not understanding where he's going with this.

"Write the new book about her," Bradley says simply, shrugging.

You stare at him for a moment, processing this thought. After a bit, your jaw drops. How did you not think of this yourself? A slew of ideas pop into your brain, and you lunge for your bag, hoping to grab your journal and write them all down.

"Are you okay?" He asks. You hold up a finger, silently asking for him to give you a second. In a hurry, you scribble down a giant bulleted list. You can't help but wish your hand moved as fast as your brain. Bradley gives a weak call of your name, concerned by the new burst of hyperactivity. It pulls your attention away from the final bullet point you've just made.

"I think you're a genius," you breathe out, looking at him in awe.

He seems shocked, "it was just an idea."

"No, no," you remain firm, "you're brilliant, and you've just saved my life." A grin pulls across his face at your words. "Pam is gonna be so stoked," you say, standing and starting to pack your things. You pause all of a sudden and reach for your notebook again. You scribble something else and tear out a sliver of paper.

You hand it over to him, and his gaze flicks over a series of hastily written numbers. Your phone number. Bradley slowly stands up.

"Breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee, dessert, movie, ice cream, drinks- whatever you want, on me," you say in a rush. You take about two steps toward your car, hoping to call Pam and confirm that you can go in this creative direction before his voice stops you.

"How about a date?" He asks, looking after you.

You turn over your shoulder and smirk, "That was the idea."

____________________________________________________

Rooster taglist (open): @tallyovie

I hope everyone is having another very Top Gun summer <3

[sirfrogsworth]

The (Almost) Flood of Frog Manner

If you followed me wayyyy back in the day, you might remember a flood ravaged our basement in 2012.

This is what I wrote about it back then.

It was bad. In order to show you a picture of it I had to convert it to black and white because the color version has a shade of brown that churns the stomach just to look at.

I am still traumatized from having to walk barefoot in that. And I still have a very vivid memory of sitting on the edge of my bed as the water started slowly creeping in and and surrounding me. It literally felt like being in a horror film.

I think my estimate of 6 inches may have been what it *felt* like at the time. I was pretty shaken by the experience and you can see why eyewitness testimony is often shite. Though I think our basement isn't completely level and it was a bit deeper in my room. I just remember my feet being completely submerged as I was escaping.

A few of the pedal casualties...

A vintage Boss Harmonist that had awful pitch tracking which is why I loved it. A Big Muff, because everyone needs a Big Muff in their life. A Fulltone Fulldrive 2 and Clyde Wah. And about 10 others I don't have a picture of including an EHX Mircosynth, Digitech Whammy, Boss DD-5 delay, and a vintage 1977 MXR Flanger—better known as the Eddie Van Halen pedal that made his guitar sound like it was in space.

Everything had to be torn out and washed with commercial machinery. My room was the cleanest it had ever been—scientifically speaking.

In the aftermath, while we restored the basement (another long story), I was relegated to my mom's "purse room."

To make matters worse our air conditioner broke and I have terrible temperature regulation. So I started going mad living in the purse room.

I was convinced one of them was staring at me.

And trying to murder me in my sleep.

So... why am I talking about a 12 year old flood?

The other night I woke up from a nap and saw this out the window.

And it was still pouring.

I started to hear a clunking noise from the basement and when I went to investigate, water had begun to back up into the laundry room through the main drain.

It was reminding me of 2012 all over again.

Except back then I think our pump was underpowered and unable to deal with that much water. And now that we have a much better pump, it seemed to be handling things much better.

I was also concerned because water was leaking in from the basement windows. I guess they were filling up faster than the water could saturate into the ground and the windows are not 100% water sealed.

Just in case, I piled up a bunch of old towels and bed clothes that were in the laundry room (mostly my dad's stuff) and made a moat around the drain that was starting to back up. I was hoping that would hold back any minor flooding if things got worse. I probably ruined everything, but I am still glad I did that even though it wasn't really necessary.

I also did something stupid.

I went outside to look at the area of the yard where the pump is buried to check on it. And I started to go out through our main garage door, but when I opened it, I let in a bunch of water. And that is where we are storing all of the goods for the next estate auction. So, not sure if there is any water damage yet. I was too tired from pushing out water to inspect things further.

I made a little video compilation of the not-quite-a-flood incident.

I'm very glad it wasn't as bad as in 2012. But this is still going to be a pain in my patoot to clean up.

[rfxiii]

Can u do one where Trevor and fem reader r in a hot tub together and things get spicy? 🥵🌶️ had this idea for a while now!!

(ty for the request! I absolutely loved this idea, so I hope you like how I wrote it!)

TW: Smut

Word Count: 2821

Trevor Philips and fem!s/o in a hot tub:

This could get you both in so much trouble.

You should have known better than to mention something like this, even offhandedly, to someone like Trevor. It was your own private fantasy, something you’d never thought you’d get to act on, until tonight.

Nearly a week ago you’d seen a commercial on Trevor’s staticky old television advertising some upscale new hotel in Los Santos. You weren’t normally one for the fancy, fast paced lifestyle of the city, but once you’d watched the ad showcasing the hotel's state of the art pool room, complete with a large hot tub, you couldn’t help but perk up a bit. And of course, Trevor had noticed.

He’d nagged you mercilessly about your reaction after that. He had picked on you about your “fancy taste”, he’d asked if you wanted to stay a night there despite how badly he would have hated it. It wasn’t until he’d begun to spiral down a rabbit hole, thinking that maybe you were unhappy with your rural situation out in Sandy Shores, that you’d finally confessed to what had caught your attention.

That damned hot tub.

He’d been confused at first. It was just a large bathtub with jets. Right? He didn’t get what the big deal was. You had a bathtub at your house, so why didn’t you just go home and use the one you already owned? It didn’t make any sense to him. At least, it hadn’t, until you’d broken down and further explained your private little fantasy.

You wanted him to fuck you in that hot tub, more than anything.

And that confession had quickly changed his tune.

Which is how you found yourself here. It’s not the fancy hotel from the tv, but to Trevor any hot tub he got to fuck you in would do just fine. And conveniently enough, he knew just the place for the two of you to act out your little fantasy.

“You’re sure he’s gone for the weekend, right?” you whisper to Trevor softly, eyes darting around in the dark as you wait to be caught.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Don’t worry about it, sweet cheeks. He left yesterday. The house is totally empty!” Trevor replies confidently, striding ahead of you across the opulent, stone tiled, backyard.

You’d been to Michael’s house a few times- a beautiful, expensive property that you and Trevor had no business breaking into. But once he had his mind set to something, Trevor was an unstoppable force. And after assuring you that Michael and his family were away on vacation for the weekend, he’d insisted that this would be the perfect spot- private, with no one to bother you no matter what you both got up to. And you couldn’t argue that he was wrong.

You come to a stop at the edge of the large pool, the underwater lights casting an almost ethereal glow around the backyard. And connected right to the pool, set aglow by the lights reflecting in the pool, is the hot tub. It’s large, and clean, with the hot water bubbling quietly as it’s expelled from the jets. And you can already feel your mind wandering to the things you and Trevor could do out here, uninterrupted without fear of being disturbed.

“So, good enough for you, sugar?” he teases, a smirk on his lips that sends a jolt of anticipation directly between your thighs.

You bite back a scoff, feeling more than on the spot now that you’re actually here. And so, before you have a chance to think too hard about this and back out, you begin to undress. You’ve never really had occasion to go swimming; Trevor does his best to avoid the beaches of Los Santos- and Los Santos altogether, and you certainly weren’t going swimming in the waters at Sandy Shores. So, without the proper attire, you’d opted for a pair of underwear and a sports bra instead.

You kick your shoes off by the edge of the pool, shimming out of your shorts and pulling your thin tank top over your head, tossing it aside to join the pile of your other clothes. It’s then that you feel Trevor’s predatory gaze already locked on you. His wild eyes rake across your body without restraint before just a hint of dissatisfaction flashes in his eyes.

“You’re wearing clothes still?” Trevor’s question sounds incredulous. And frankly, the way he’s looking at your last remaining bits of clothes makes it seem like he’s almost offended by them.

You fumble for an answer. You know this was your idea, you know why you’re here, but starting off the night by stripping naked to get into Michael’s hot tub felt far too presumptuous still. “I- Well, I didn’t have anything else to wear, so-“

He’s still fully clothed, and it feels unfair of him to be nagging you. But then he closes the distance between you with long strides, stepping in until he’s pressed flush against your nearly naked body. “So? Why’re you wearing anything at all, sugar? It’ll just get in the way.”

You can feel his hot breath against your cheek, and you swear you just felt the outline of his hard cock pressing to your hip through his jeans. And just that brief contact is enough to have you forgetting why you were so anxious in the first place.

Your lips press to the tight muscles of his neck, and your fingers wander down his chest until they connect with the hem of his stained tee shirt. He chokes on a smug chuckle when your teeth nip gently at his throat, and when you push the fabric of his shirt up his chest, he helps you pull it over his head and toss it aside to join your pile of clothes.

His lips find yours in an aggressive kiss seconds later, his hands groping and grabbing to touch every bit of exposed skin he can reach. In the fumble to touch each other you somehow manage to unbutton his pants, which he gracelessly shoves down his narrow hips. And by the time he pulls away from your damp, abused lips, he’s kicking off his boots and now stands in front of you completely naked.

He’s fully hard, his tip flushed dark red and leaking. All of this just from the kissing and anticipation. If you’d ever been insecure before, the way Trevor always reacts so instantly to you is enough to push any uncertain thoughts from your mind.

He catches your gaze locked between his thighs, and a sly, yellowed smirk grows on his lips. His hands grip your waist possessively, slipping down into your underwear and against your ass to push the fabric off your hips and to the ground. His thigh finds its way between your legs, pressing firmly and watching you squirm against him while he works your sports bra up and over your head until you’re just as naked as him.

“Now that’s.. much better. Don’t ya think, sweetheart?” Trevor purrs at you. His hands graze against your skin, his rough palms leaving a trail of warmth against your flesh.

A soft chuckle tumbles past your lips, and you gently take his hand in yours. You lead him toward the hot tub, making a show of swaying your hips and batting your lashes at him until you find yourself at the edge of the water. You dip your toes into the hot tub, finding the water pleasantly warm. And without further hesitation, you pull him along behind you until you’re both sunk into the bubbling heat of the water.

You hear Trevor utter a nearly inaudible sigh, and you’re not surprised. He makes little to no daily effort to take care of himself, and with countless old injuries and constant stress, you’re sure the hot water is doing wonders in relaxing him. Which is exactly what you’d been hoping for.

The calm quiet only lasts a little longer, as most peaceful moments usually did with Trevor. His head lolls toward you, a lazy grin on his lips as he tugs on your wrist, “Come’er,” he mutters, softer than usual.

You’re already pressed up to his side, and it’s not until you watch his dark eyes dart toward his lap that you understand his request. You move carefully in the water, closing the small gap between you both and climbing atop him to straddle his hips. His hands fall instantly to your waist, pulling you closer and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against your damp chest. Your hands fall to his head, combing your fingers through his thinning hair and holding him closer.

The feeling of Trevor’s lips on your skin is almost soothing, lulling the constant buzz of daily stress into nothing but silence in your head. Suddenly, a gasp lodges itself in your throat when Trevor drags his tongue against one of your nipples. Your back arches at the sensation, pressing your chest closer to Trevor’s devilish lips and tongue. Your gasps and quiet whines escape into the cool night air, and you find yourself unwilling to put forth the effort to muffle them.

You hear Trevor chuckling softly, and feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. And then there’s his hands, grasping at your hips and pulling you closer until his hard cock grinds roughly against your clit. A higher pitched whimper forces its way past your lips, startling you a bit before you lose yourself in the pleasure Trevor is so eagerly providing.

“Yeah? That good, sugar?” Trevor snickers against your chest.

You’re seconds away from firing back something sarcastic at him when you feel the rough pinch of his fingers replacing his lips on your nipple. His hips continue to thrust his cock between your thighs, grinding against your sensitive clit. And every sardonic reply you’d concocted for him dies instantly on your tongue.

Trevor’s breathing picks up, and you feel his jagged nails biting harder into your hip. This feels amazing, but you want more. And if you don’t stop him soon and get to the point, you know he’ll finish just like this.

Your grasp at his wrist, trying to stay the hand he’s using to toy with your nipple. Your words tremble, and you have to fight back a moan tickling at the back of your throat, but finally you manage to gasp out your request. “T,-.. Trevor, please.. Don’t- don’t cum yet. I need you to fuck me, please.”

You find yourself shamelessly begging. He’s always had a way of making you crave him, but like this, finally fulfilling the fantasy you’d had running through your thoughts, you almost can’t contain your excitement. And he loves to see you desperate for him like this. He’s never hid his desire for you, after all.

An almost relieved grin graces Trevor’s lips, his eyes wide and full of unbridled yearning to be as deep inside you as he can get. “Fuck yes. That's a good girl!” he praises through a choked moan, “why don’t you let Uncle T make your dreams come true tonight, sugar tits?”

The line is almost comically bad, but you’re too caught up in the anticipation to even give it a giggle. And his acceptance to give you the pleasure you so desperately crave has you frantic to receive it.

His split nails dig harshly into your soft skin, lifting you right where he needs you. You feel the press of his hard cock against you, and it takes everything you have not to sink down on him in one fluid motion. You let him lead this time, realizing the dominant role seems to be appealing to him tonight. And despite how badly you need him, you don’t rush him further. You need the build up just as badly as you need him inside you.

His fingers stroke your clit in rough, jerky motions; his touch is always erratic, but you’ve grown to love the way his irregular movements push you to the edge. His hips twitches up into you, pressing the thick head of his cock inside your needy cunt. He’s not especially long, but he is thick, and the stretch of him entering you forces an unrestrained moan past your lips. His fingers still rub at you haphazardly, and when you arch against him he takes the opportunity to trail his tongue against your nipple. And with another firm thrust of his hips, he bottoms out inside you.

Trevor lets out a pitchy whine against your chest, his fingers biting into your skin to ground himself. He’s not going to last long after the build up you’d been engaged in. It feels like the heat of the water, and the excitement of trespassing on someone else’s property, heightens every sense you have. And when he sets an erratic, desperate pace, you find that all you can do is hang on for the ride.

You do your best to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock while the warm water splashes around you both. Your fingers tangle in his thin, damp hair, pulling him up into a desperate kiss that you only break to cry out for him.

“Fuuuck, that’s it, sugar!” Trevor groans, his voice trembling as he already grows close to his end, “so fuckin’ good! This is the best fuckin’ idea you’ve ever had!”

His pace grows haphazard and almost violent, his nails biting into the skin of your hip while his free hand gives all its attention to your clit. Between the water and the pleasure, you feel like you’re on fire, and his frantic thrusts are only making you that much hotter; you’re not going to last much longer either.

“Trevor! M’ close, please!” you find yourself begging, writhing on his lap for just the little bit of extra friction you need to push you over the edge.

Trevor chuckles breathlessly at your desperate display, his lips curled back into a yellowed smirk. He’s smug but very clearly holding himself back from finishing before you get a chance to cum. His chest is heaving, his skin is slick with sweat and water, and his hips jerk and twitch into you with no rhyme or rhythm. “Then fuckin’ cum for me, sweetheart,” he orders, before leaning in and suckling roughly at one of your nipples, giving you the final push over the edge.

You’re here alone, there’s no one to disturb, and you make no effort to suppress your screams of pleasure. You cum around his cock, clenching tight while you yank almost painfully on his hair. And the pain, paired with the sounds you make for him, has Trevor spilling his release deep inside you, warming your insides with the same heat as the water on your skin.

You both finally still with heaving gasps; the exertion and warm water leaving you dizzy, boneless and flushed. You cling to him, with his face still pressed to your damp breasts. Trevor pulls out of you slowly, muffling an overstimulated groan as he slips from inside your still twitching cunt. And then he pulls away from your chest and looks at you with those chocolate, puppy dog eyes and gives you the biggest grin.

“That..was fuckin’ amazing. Holy shit!” Trevor snickers, pulling you closer again and nuzzling into your bare chest.

You let out an exhausted sigh, melting into him and holding him close. “Y-yeah, it was,” you giggle softly.

“Everything ya hoped for, sugar?” he teases, peppering messy, wet kisses across your skin between low chuckles.

You relax atop him with the warm, bubbling water soothing the burning in your muscles, “It was so much better, baby,” you grin, shooting a glance at the house behind you, “Michael should stay gone on vacation longer. I’d love to do this again.”

“Actually, about that,” Trevor starts tentatively, “we should probably, uhh-“

Before Trevor fumbles out the finish of his sentence, you find yourself nearly blinded as the outdoor flood lights flicker on and brighten the backyard like daylight. You jump in shock, blinking hard to focus with the additional light. And not but a moment later, the large back doors swing open where you’re both greeted by Michael, standing in only his underwear, looking confused and irritated.

“Trevor!?” Michael shouts across the yard, his cheeks flushing red in annoyance, and embarrassment at your state of undress, “what the fuck are you doing in my hot tub?!”

“Well, sugar,” Trevor snickers with a manic grin splitting his lips, “it sounds like that’s our cue to get the fuck outta here!”

You quickly snag your discarded clothes, stumbling with Trevor to frantically dress, a scowl of disbelief plastered firmly on your face, “Trevor, you’re the fucking worst!”

“I love you too, sweet cheeks!” Trevor cackles, ignoring your fury, and Michael’s, while he takes your hand and hauls you off across the lawn.