#Grew Up in Pittsburgh
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I miss having roommates who were also friends ;_; im tired of coming home alone
#jrnlsht#if you can't tell i have never lived with a romantic partner#unless you count the guy i call The Ex but he lived in nyc and i only saw him for a week at a time a few times a month#since i was living in pittsburgh#since i was a kid i always swore i would never be vulnerable and live with someone i loved who could hurt me#like i watched my parents yell and hate at each other#so i always lived with friends instead#and it worked well until everyone except me grew up
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i know we have this thread every week but it winds me up in a way that few other things do because, when you think about it, the audacity to tell a stranger "i know you think you experienced misogyny, but since you're a binary transgender man* (and therefore have always been a man, something that applies to every binary transgender man in the world) you actually experienced misdirected misogyny that wasn't meant for you because you're not a woman. hope this helps :)" is so profoundly presumptive and insulting
some of us are older than you and grew up in a much more transphobic world! some of us did not grow up in liberal areas! for some of us, it was impossible to access trans care until we picked up and moved our lives to somewhere more accepting! and *shockingly* some of us have not always ID'd as men, and to retroactively re-frame our sometimes traumatic experiences with misogyny as "misdirected" is just so. i keep coming back to this but it's just plain insulting.
i identified and presented as a woman most of my childhood! i couldn't present as anything BUT a woman even after i stopped IDing as one for my safety! i started transition as an adult seven years ago! my hometown was so conservative that they had their first, sparsely attended pride event four months ago this past june!
i had grown men sexualize me as young as 14. i experienced sexual harassment and unconsentual touching from my peers even younger. men joked about r*ping me to my face! who tf is anyone to tell me that didn't count as "true" misogyny. because it sure as shit was directed towards me. even the current wave of transphobic backlash uses misogynistic language towards all transgender people, including trans men. when transphobes infantilize us, frame us as "confused young women" suckered into an ideology we couldn't possibly understand, that's misogyny! when transphobes discourage us from transitioning because it will devalue our one asset: our beauty, when they discuss top surgery as a mutilation and mourn our breasts over our physical and mental health, that's misogyny!
the fact that i'm now a man does not change that fact and i wish more people allowed room for nuance in these discussions. if it clashes with your understanding of the gender binary, good! it should! it reeks of too much theory and not enough interacting with irl trans people. it's a vast oversimplification of the lived experiences of lots of trans people. there are thousands of ways to be an enemy of patriarchy.
*i am aware that this affects other trans men and transmascs who are not binary men but i'm using binary men here to make the point that even if 'woman' is zero part of your identity this still applies
#ren speaks#rape ///#misogyny ///#transphobia ///#contextually it's doubly important that the more 'liberal area' i moved to to finally be able to transition was PITTSBURGH#not SF not NYC not chicago but pittsburgh#just think for a moment about where i grew up for that to be the case#i'm really genuinely so happy for trans kids who can come out earlier to accepting families and communities#but ten years ago when i had my formative trans years that was just not the case#medical insurance could legally refuse to cover all HRT and transcare at the time#the ACA had to mandate that they cover it after the fact#for the first year of my transition i still had to pay out of pocket for my hormones even though i was insured
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OH I DO ACTUALLY HAVE ONE QUESTION IM CURIOUS ABOUT & i dont Think it'll be big spoilers? feel free 2 ignore if it is. but like wheree is rockfall/newhaven/surrounding area, like, geographically. assuming the country they're in is somewhat analogous to the usa. r they east coast west coast midwest.... i wanna knoww... 👀👀👀
OH OH UHHHH. THERE IS ACTUALLY A MAP theyve neber posted it because its pretty much just taken directly from the mutants and masterminds rulebook with a handful of names and places changed (i cannot send it to u yet bc there are a few places u havent heard of yet so remind me to do that later) BUT. IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY. rockfall is either slightly north or south of new haven, new haven is on the east coast, [other big city u dont know the name of yet] is also on the east coast "a few territories away from new haven" so like. a couple states i guess (?), deadwood is pretty far away to the west, like. roadtrip/fly in a plane length away .
#theres not a whole lot of specifics with location its mostly just “close/far. coastal/not coastal” so its hard to say specifics.#rockfall is close to new haven though ive always imagined it like.#ok bear with me here im gonna reference irl places but i grew up in a small ish north of pittsburgh maybe like 45 mins away from downtown#but still technically its own town (?) so thats what ive been imaginging lmao .#theres probably a word for that but im at work rn and cant be assed to think of it#also!!! interesting fact that i always forget. rockfall is also bordered by a desert. i catn remember if thats been mentioned yet#asks#:D#intertexts#I HOPE THAT AT LEAST SOMEWHAT ANSWERED YOUR QUESTION
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:,)
#it seems i have this unknown loyalty to sidney crosby that i wasn’t aware of#i just wanna see bunts happy. and it’s cool to see him on the team i grew up knowing#michael bunting#sidney crosby#pittsburgh penguins
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thinking about garfield’s nightmare at kennywood…none of you know her like i do
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should I reclaim "yinz" for myself
#I grew up in Pittsburgh but never said it#but it would be useful#and I like it#yinzer#language is neat
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if i hate ranch dressing and mayo but i love beer brats and corn on the cob am i still considered midwestern
#tbh it’s debatable because i mostly grew up in pennsylvania#NO PITTSBURGH AND WESTERN PA IS NOT MIDWESTERN!!!!!!!! IT’S EAST AND APPALACHIAN AND MID ATLANTIC BUT NOT MIDWESTERN#t
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i wore my dolphin’s shirt today and sent a picture to my father, i think he considers me his daughter again now🧣
SKGVKSFHVADKFSJ your character is no longer flawed i suppose 💀
#he said NO PITTSBURGH ALLOWED#wait hold up why does jake gyllenhaal support the pittsburgh steelers he grew up in california and lives in new york#that just clicked in my head wtf jake#anon asks#asks
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actually, while it is true that MOST places in the US wouldn't say slippy, it is NOT true that nobody in the US uses it because of a very specific dialect: pittsburghese, also known as western pennsylvania english or yinzer. the term "yinzer", of course, comes from "yinz" (plural you), which in turn comes from... scots-irish english.
interestingly enough, despite the fact that it seems like younger people, aka those who grew up with the internet, are losing a lot of the characteristic features of the dialect (especially most of the more dramatic pronunciations and some of the more unique vocabulary, including yinz), "slippy" is one of the things that seems to be sticking around. also, it seems like almost the only "verb-y" descriptor present in pittsburghese, but i'm not a linguist and that could just be that the others like it have disappeared at this point.
but yeah, even most younger people who grew up in pittsburgh, even if their parents didn't, would still probably use "slippy" — so it's not used in almost anywhere in the US, but it IS used here!
#both my parents grew up in the nyc metro area but both me and sibling for sure use slippy#and it would N O T be regarded as baby talk or disrespectful or ANYTHING like that here#definitely not#the pittsburgher in me every time i see this post: NOOOOOOOOO SOBBING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP AND SHITTING SLIPPY ISNT BABYTALK#also lmfaooo theres a BUNCH of pittsburghers in the notes making additions to this like NO WE SAY SLIPPY IN PITTSBURGH ITS SO NORMAL HERE
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i will not try getting back into baseball i will NOT try getting back into baseball I WILL NOT
#tbd#i am glad to see a pitch clock for the season bc that seems like it might help#but NO. we are NOT going there. i REFUSE#i dont even know who id root for#the rangers bc i grew up w them? the pirates bc pittsburgh? the red sox bc boston?#or the marlins bc theyre the local team?#NO. NO WE ARE NOT DOING IT.
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Jackie Ormes, the first Black American woman cartoonist
When the 14-year-old Black American boy Emmett Till was lynched in 1955, one cartoonist responded in a single-panel comic. It showed one Black girl telling another: "I don't want to seem touchy on the subject... but that new little white tea-kettle just whistled at me!"
It may not seem radical today, but penning such a political cartoon was a bold and brave statement for its time — especially for the artist who was behind it. This cartoon was drawn by Jackie Ormes, the first syndicated Black American woman cartoonist to be published in a newspaper. Ormes, who grew up in Pittsburgh, got her first break as cartoonist as a teenager. She started working for the Pittsburgh Courier as a sports reporter, then editor, then cartoonist who penned her first comic, Torchy Brown in Dixie to Harlem, in 1937. It followed a Mississippi teen who becomes a famous singer at the famed Harlem jazz club, The Cotton Club.
In 1942, Ormes moved to Chicago, where she drew her most popular cartoon, Patty-Jo 'n' Ginger, which followed two sisters who made sharp political commentary on Black American life.
In 1947, Ormes created the Patty-Jo doll, the first Black doll that wasn't a mammy doll or a Topsy-Turvy doll. In production for a decade, it was a role model for young black girls. "The doll was a fashionable, beautiful character," says Daniel Schulman, who curated one of the dolls into a recent Chicago exhibition. "It had an extraordinary presence and power — they're collected today and have important place in American doll-making in the U.S."
In 1950, Ormes drew her final strip, Torchy in Heartbeats, which followed an independent, stylish black woman on the quest for love — who commented on racism in the South. "Torchy was adventurous, we never saw that with an Black American female figure," says Beauchamp-Byrd. "And remember, this is the 1950s." Ormes was the first to portray black women as intellectual and socially-aware in a time when they were depicted in a derogatory way.
One common mistake that erased Ormes from history is mis-crediting Barbara Brandon-Croft as the first nationally syndicated Black American female cartoonist. "I'm just the first mainstream cartoonist, I'm not the first at all," says Brandon-Croft, who published her cartoons in the Detroit Free Press in the 1990s. "So much of Black history has been ignored, it's a reminder that Black history shouldn't just be celebrated in February."
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#jackie ormes#black american history#black history#black cartoonist#black comics#comics#barbara brandon croft#barbara brandon#black artists
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I love when this comes up and I remember that there are people who don’t know what a Pittsburgh potty is
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Tag, You're It | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader
Synopsis: Late summer mornings are beautiful and peaceful, but not when you car is a piece of shit. A simple jump will do but, was it smart to flag down the guy in the windowless van?
Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark fic, Oral M!Receiving, Giving Head While Driving (Don't try this at home,) Wicked Banter, Reader is such a smart ass,
Rating: M
Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: Requests are officially open! Also this sounded wayyy better in my head - forgive me if this is shit.
Tagging: (If you want to be tagged feel free to let me know!) @babygorewhore @cherryinterlude @rosaleelovesdilfs @prozacwhorehouse @rubyfruitjungle @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @lustskitty69
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Why did life need to be difficult? Why did it need to throw curveballs you way so outrageous, that it stops your daily routine? That is the one thing that drives you bonkers – having your entire day thrown off. What is the point of it? To make you slow down, take in the sights? To make sure you are never taking a moment for granted. To make sure you’re safe. Yeah, like that is a fucking thing. No, the harsh reality is that life wants to make your day to day so complicated it causes anxiety, dissociation, detachment. It causes you to feel out of line with every timeline, and in return you shut down. At least, that is how it’s feeling now.
It is just another day, but something feels off. It’s too alive outside. The winds are quiet but cool, but there is a thickness to the air. The tingling of sweat cooling on your forearms and face is making everything feel sticky. The whistle coming from God knows what, is driving you up a wall. Everything is too much. Sitting back against the living room couch, you take a deep breath. Today is supposed to be a good day, a great day! You’re supposed to be getting your assignment from your boss – whether you are going to be running the London office all by yourself, or if you are to stay in Pittsburgh. You wanted that escape, needed it in fact. Penn state was bleeding you dry, you needed a change of pace.
All morning you sat by your phone, waiting to see that nine digit life changer pass by your lock screen – signaling that you are worthy of this. Yet, radio silence. You did contemplate calling your boss to see but, would that be too desperate? Would you rethink her decision if it was already made? Does she remember seeing you around the corner when you called you a useless waste of talent? The words still coat your mind, never leaving until you prove it wrong. Today was the day to do that, today you were meant to be seen. With The Butcher’s antics starting up again, you needed to get out of Pennsylvania before you were next. Last October when Cooper Adams was captured, then escaped from police custody you grew cautious. Walking with pepper spray, a taser from Amazon, and a knife always. You adjusted your schedule enough, so you weren’t out past five at night, didn’t dare to leave your doors unlocked or windows open; Suffering in the heat was better than being a statistic. You wanted to live without fear, without the constant thought of what if it’s me next time? You wanted to be unafraid.
Breaking you out of your spiraling thought was the sound of your phone going off, the number you have been waiting for coming across your phone. Vivienne’s number flashed and you felt your heart race, not knowing what could be coming next? What if I just ignore it? Send it to voicemail? Will it show that I am serious or playing hard to get? Will it make her give me the London office sooner? Swallowing down the pride in your throat, you slid your thumb across the call bar – shaking as you heard your bosses angelic voice rain through. “My star investigator – is this a good time?” She sings, sounding a bit jittery on the other end. You nod as if she could see you, sighing out a laugh before speaking. “Sure is.”
“You didn’t get the London office,” she stated bluntly, not giving you a second to speak before maneuvering the conversation. “But, you are going to be staying with me in Pittsburgh! We are taking on the Ladellia case – that’s as exciting as London!” It didn’t hit you immediately but, it was a slow progression forward. First the ache sat within your heart, then your head, leaving your throat for last. You noticed how your TV went from clear to blurry almost instantly. An ache sat at the back of your throat, enough to cause your teeth to ache. You couldn’t control the sob that ripped from your mouth, the tears falling at a quickened pace. “Are you okay, honey?” Vivienne’s sympathetic voice comes through too clear for your liking, as if she was sitting next to you. “I got to go.” You let out without a thought, ending your call and turning your phone off. You stared at your reflection against your phone, noticing the puffiness gaining under your eyes – the glimmer of hope dying with each glance. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you needed to get out of here.
Hyperventilation set in at a rapid pace, causing your body to shake. The speed in which your heart was thumping concerned you, making your eyes waver and head pound. Your blood pressure was skyrocketing to the point where you felt as if you would pass out – everything you worked for, gone in an instant. Without thinking, you jetted off of the couch to the kitchen table, grabbing blindly for your bag and keys – needing an escape from this every-loving nightmare. Without turning around to set your alarm, or put away the dishes on the counter, you pushed yourself out of your home’s front door. The crisp air of late summer kissed your skin – no longer humid like it portrayed earlier. Your car was only a few steps away in your driveway, backed in which meant you could drive right out with no issue. The navy blue of your Mazda glimmered like the night in the late August sun, showcasing the twinkles of blue glitter in the paint. Usually it would bring you ease but, today something felt off. Maybe it was being passed over for the promotion but, it felt like something bigger.
Tossing your bag into the passenger’s seat as you slid into the driver’s side, you felt your hands go up to your steering wheel instinctually – gripping at ten and two. The second your driver’s side door slammed shut, you let out a blood curdling scream, fingers white knuckling the leather wheel. Everything within you shattered; The pain you were experiencing disintegrated with ease. Every octave your voice climbed brought a new wave of anger, rage, and sadness. Why does this always happen to me? Why am I always left out of everything? Every negative message you could possibly muster out was out in full force. You tried to suck in air, but nothing would go, only primal grunts and sobs slipped passed the crack of your lips, eyes full of rage. Though, you felt at peace in a way – knowing that what you needed was a good scream. Nothing mattered anymore, not for you anyway. Come Monday you would quit and disappear somewhere else. Somewhere where you didn’t need to worry about a stupid job or responsibilities, you’d be taken care of. Where that was you didn’t know but, you wouldn’t stop driving until you got there.
Wiping under your nose with the back of your hand, you sniffled softly as you pushed the start button on your car, the key fob sitting in the cup holder. The car rattled as it tried to click over to start, the starter catching on your alternator but never finishing the job. You tried again, and again, and again to get your car to click over – the silence rattled you to the bone. Again, you tried and with that, the car refused to turn over. “Piece of shit!” You screamed aloud, placing your forehead against your steering wheel. Staring at the mat of your floor, you let out a defeated sigh, giving up as your arm dangled. No matter how many times you would try to click your car over, it was toast. Sucking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment to realign your mood, not wanting to storm out of your car and back into the house. You still wanted to leave but, you would need a jump. You remembered having a set of jumper cables in your emergency trunk pack, now all you would need is the battery source.
Opening the driver’s side door, you caught a glimpse of a white van sitting across the street, the side door opened but seemed to have no one inside. It wasn’t dark enough outside to be pitch black but, enough that you could tell dusk was setting in. Trying not to stare and entice whatever was in the van to come towards you, you looked away as you stepped out, tailing around your car to the trunk. “That clicking doesn’t sound good. You need a jump?” A buttery soft voice called out from your side, from the direction of the van. Slowly you started to spin around and face where the voice was coming from, feeling your pulse quickening as you stared into the darkness. A pair of hands were held up under the streetlights that just came on, face obscured slightly by the brim of a baseball back. “I’m okay, thank you though.” You said matter-of-factly, smiling small as you waved off the stranger. You couldn’t help but find yourself enticed by the mysterious person in the van, their voice like liquid sex. It was husky yet, soft. Raspy yet calming. You wanted to swim in it.
Skirting around the back of your car, you noticed the hatch of your trunk was slightly ajar, leaving you to cock your eyebrow. Grabbing onto the underside of your trunk, you lifted the door up to see that your emergency case was there, in its bright pink glory, yet it looked deflated. Reaching forth you started to unzip the case, noticing your flashlight and tire iron were there perfectly content, but the pink and black cables were gone. What perplexed you the most was that you never used them before and knew when you bought it from Amazon it was in there – to up and walk away was not happening. Your eyes peered forward over the back row of seats, staring intently out your front window. The van was still there with the door opened, hands nowhere to be seen but a darkened figure could be made out. That’s not…no, there isn’t a way it is. He wouldn’t be that stupid to come back here. The lack of sleep was starting to get to you, imaging the worst instead of the best-case scenario. It didn’t mean that man in the van was The Butcher, but the chances were slim to none. Letting out a defeated sigh, you removed yourself from the trunks covering and made your way back to the front of your car. “I’ll take you up on that offer. My cables are not here.” You yelled out enough to be heard. The backdoor did not close but the taillights lit red in the slow darkness of the night. The beeping of the van backing up got closer to you as the driver become more obscured. With the van directly in front of your car, you wrapped you arms around yourself – looking around at your neighbors’ houses. With the free Lady Raven concert down at the stadium, you doubted anyone else was home. “Come grab the cables, I’ll pop the hood.”
Stupidly you made your way over to the van, not putting any caution to the wind with the killer on the loose. Maybe, just maybe you were hoping he took you. Maybe, it’ll help me be set free. Shaking your head of the perverse though, you investigated the dark of the van to still hear it running but, were not met with hands holding jumper cables. Instead, you were met with gloved hands, an obscured face, and thick energy radiating from the opening. Leaning forward to get a better look of this man and grab the cables – you couldn’t have anticipated what would happen next.
Everything happened so quick you didn’t have time to process. Strong hands reach forth to grab you by the front of your shirt, yanking so hard small tears were present on your top. You didn’t even struggle, making your body pliant as he grabbed you. One minute your feet were on the ground, standing in place. The next you were having your back slammed against the cold floor of the van, this man standing over you in the darkness. “Too. Fucking. Easy.” The dark, sadistic tone of the manmade your panties dampen; you never would admit it. Mint and coffee lingered on his breath as he hovered over you, grasping your wrists in his strong hands. “No fight in you? Now where’s the fun in that?” The man pouted as he slammed the door of the van, reaching his hand above himself to turn on the van light. The violent assault of the yellow bulb caused you to squint out of its way, letting your pupils adjust to it before staring ahead. Slowly everything came into view; An orange flyers baseball cap, black sweatshirt and one very handsome face. You thought your eyes were deceiving you for a minute, flashing who you hoped for in front of you – not who you were expecting. In a way you had to know which is why you didn’t put up a fight but – this was just too good. Cooper. Fucking. Adams. Straddling your waist as you laid against the floor, smirking over you the same way he did when he was carted out of his home last year after kidnapping Lady Raven and running rampant on Philadelphia. You were in deep shit.
Due to your ogling of Cooper, he had enough time to bind your wrists together with zip ties, then move himself into the driver’s seat of the van, skirting off of your property before anyone came back from the concert. You were stuck in your position, not even trying to move – not daring to move in case something was to happen. “You know, the whole fun part about this is the struggle. I feel robbed,” Cooper feigned hurt, pouting at you as he turned. Moving yourself up to a seat position, you grabbed with your bound hands against the passenger’s seat, steadying yourself as the van sped off at the green light. “But I’ll be damned if I was going to let you go. You were a hard one to catch, little mouse. Always scurrying away from danger.” He laughed, a twinkle in the ember eyes.
You were too in shock to process that you were kidnapped, by The Butcher, after you lost your job opportunity. It had to be a dream, there was no way in hell this was happening. “Oh, but it is, princess. Better believe it. You’re mine now.” The way he stated it as it was a fact made your thighs clench as you rested your cheek against the chair, watching the town ahead of you turn to bright, pixelated lights. Stating that you were his was not something you would get turned on by, it was fucked to be turned on by him. You didn’t care that you stated it out loud for him to hear, nothing mattered anymore. But he had that early 2000’s heartthrob vibe going on, it was impossible to not be persuaded by him. “So, are we…like enemies to lovers? Is that the trope we are going for?” The way you deal with fearful situations is to joke – this was one of those times.
It may not have seemed like it, but you were shitting bricks internally. Knowing what this man does, who he is and what he is capable of frightened you – as it excited you. It was fucked that you were awestruck by him, a killer. You hated a part of yourself that wanted to see what his hands were capable of. Ever since you saw the police body cam footage of him in his home, shirtless, being tased over three times and pouncing on an officer – you were flustered. “What?” He said with such confusion it made you snap back into reality, forgoing the thought of his body, shirtless, on top of yours. Feeling the heat creep its way along your cheeks, you stared at him – reality finally setting in. His confused look made you realize that this isn’t a simple fantasy you made up in your head, it’s reality.
Anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you sat back on your haunches as he drove, his eyes fixated forward. That feeling of dread sat in your gut like a rock, making you almost physically sick. This wasn’t some story come to life; The Butcher had you – took you away from your home, from your life. His only intention was to see the life drain from your eyes – not be his plaything. Your fingers started to shake around the dull edge of the zip tie, your vision becoming blurry as your head pounded. “This isn’t like you, Cooper!” You screamed as a diversion, thinking if you went all Friday the 13th on him, he would resort to believing you were his mom, or a maternal figure. If it worked in the movies, why not now? What other play did you have? Leave the van? The handle from the inside was removed. Even the interior handle of the passenger’s side door was gone, only his remained and there was no way in hell you were going to make it past him to side out. “You were a good boy!” It was a silent plea, yet no tears or crying came. It was more fight or flight. Though you weren’t making a run for it, you weren’t trying to jet out of the van. Your body and mind were confused, as were you. Trailing up to the stop light, Cooper turns to stare at you, deadpanning with no emotion, a faded smirk on his lips. “That isn’t going to work on me, Lady Raven already tried that last year.”
The way he nonchalantly said that made your body burn hot, causing you to toss yourself into the passenger’s seat. For a serial killer he didn’t have a petition to block the front seat from you – rookie mistake. “Oh, for fucks sake!” You exhaled as you leaned back, huffing with annoyance. You were experiencing the stages of grief, and you had no output on how to handle it. Maybe he wouldn’t end you and chop you to bits like he did everyone else – those were only men, right? Maybe if you went along with him, used your attraction towards him – then maybe you could get off free? It was a dumb thought, pimping yourself out to live but – in a way you were also not complaining. He exuded charisma and daddy energy; you were drunk off of it. Cooper laughed a genuine laugh at your frustration, panning over to roll his eyes in a playful way. “This isn’t the position you want to be in? That is a shame. When I have it my way, I’ll have it be better for you.”
Cooper’s nonchalant attitude was killing you, wanting to do nothing more than just grab him by his face and kiss him. You hated that his perfect face was making you feel this way, it made no sense. “So, what position do you want me in? Face down, ass up?” There you went again with the banter, needing to fill the air with more smart mouthed remarks that were probably going to get you got before you were ready. Talking back wasn’t your strong suit – it isn’t something you did on the daily but, new days – right? If you weren’t going to make it back home, why not have some fun with it? Cooper seemed shocked by what you said, turning his head to face you with a cocked brow – utterly stunned you were so ballsy. To be honest, you felt the same way – you were never this gung ho to talk like this, let alone with your kidnapper. “Is this normal for you? Are you all mouth?” Funnily enough, it wasn’t. This was so out of the normal for you it was mental. You brain was being fried from all angles, you couldn’t tell what was right or left anymore. Something else was taking over, something dark that seemed to have been unlocked when Vivienne called you earlier – something wrong sitting beneath your skin. It was you – the real you, not the plastic naivete you put on for everyone else.
“I’m also tits and ass but, you like my mouth?” You giggle, batting your lashes up at Cooper. Fucking with him was becoming a national treasure for you, seeing both how flustered he got, mixed with annoyed. Something about the tick in his jaw was getting to you, making you squirm in your seat. There was a fifty-fifty chance he would end you now but, it felt like he wanted more. Maybe he didn’t kidnap me for his playbook, maybe he…no, there isn’t a way. Has he been stalking me? Is this…am I? So many questions flooded your head at the realization of what this truly could be. After all being separated from your wife and kids for a year, who want nothing to do with you, can make you a dull boy. Cooper placed a tightened hand against your thigh and squeezed, causing you to grimace a bit. “Stay. Quiet.” You did it, you cracked his armor.
You pulled you lip between your teeth with a silent chuckle, smirking to yourself that you got under his skin. You were right, sexual frustration is a fickle bitch – and you happened to be the best at that game. Pressing your thighs together where his fingers caressed the inner part, you rocked softly against his hand, hoping to whatever God was listening that he wouldn’t pull away. You wanted him to stay right where he is, and let you give him what he needed. Clearing your throat, you saluted him with your bound hands, trying to act serious. “Yes, sir. Or do you like daddy? I feel like you’re into that but won’t admit it.” His grasp got tighter on your leg before pulling it away, causing you to pout. Cooper slammed his hand against the steering wheel with frustration, twitching his nose and lips to try and keep from talking back to you. “Oh, my god. You didn’t seem mouthy when I watched you.”
That was a statement you were not expecting to hear, confused and slightly terrified. “You’ve been watching me?” You ask seriously, feeling your body run hot. That feeling that has been nagging at you for months, was real. Cooper Adams was watching you; That figure you caught outside the bathroom window as you showered, around the living room windows as you cleaned. Hell, outside of your bedroom window and you pleasured yourself – was him all along. Not some ghost or paranoia, it was real – he was real. Cooper froze in place for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to tell the truth or leave it as is. In lieu he chose the latter, opting for silence as he got into the rural part of the state. Pulling over on the side of the dirt farmland, he put the van in park quickly, spinning around to face you at your side.
Reaching between your legs, Cooper roughly maneuvered your calves to get at his bag on the floor, pulling out a piece of cloth, from an old shirt. Grabbing it in his hands, Cooper roughly bound the cloth into a ball, holding it steady as he reached through your hair and to your neck, grabbing at you with precision. “Open up, I’m not dealing with your back talk, or main character dialogue.” The jab made you climb back into yourself, shrinking silently as you wondered if you annoyed him. But it didn’t seem like a jab, no, it seemed more of a control factor. Cooper didn’t – couldn’t handle your smart ass remarks because why? His victims never had the guts too – all they did was beg and plea, and he hated hearing that sometimes. He wanted them to grovel, not whine. “Gagging me, seriously?” You tried your hardest to not sound offended but, alas it came through. You noticed the tick in his under eye, like he was reading you, wondering what your next thought was going to be. He didn’t seem like he wanted to but needed to. It was about keeping him sane; you were making it difficult.
“That mouth will keep running if I don’t. I want peace on this trip, not an ear full from you.” It was a lie, he didn’t want a reason to stuff your mouth full of his cock. You could see it as you glanced down to his lap, the stiffened erection appearing painful in his denim constraints. You cocked your brow with a smirk, biting your bottom lip as you kept yourself in line. Cooper couldn’t tell what you were going to say next but, he knew there would be no coming back from it. Licking your plush lip, you smiled sweetly up to him – holding your wrists out in a silent as of remove these, please? Cooper didn’t blink, didn’t move, only his hands. For they undid the strap of your zip tie with expert precision, making sure to not hurt you. Now free, you could let the fun begin. “I can think of other things to keep my mouth full.” You let out in a sultry whimper, getting closer to Cooper before he could reach.
His ember eyes looked down at your soft, supple lips, licking his own as he raked his nails against the skin of your neck, cupping the side like a lover lost in time. “Drive.” You coaxed out in a raspy tone, wanting to make this memorable for him. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nodded to Cooper as a way to make him obey. To which he did; His hand retreated from your neck and put the car in drive, moving down the road to the destination without a single word talked back. You leaned over to Cooper and trailed your hot mouth along his clothed arm, hands sitting sweetly on his lower thigh, slowly moving upwards. Each graze of your fingers threw him a curveball, a moan escaping his lips.
You watched intensively Cooper’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, your hand grazing his clothed member through the rough denim. Circling over the hardened flesh you watch how the muscles in his thighs contract sporadically. each little flick of the muscles falling softly against one another; It looked like they were having a party - in which you wanted to join. The faint whimper leaving your mouth to fall into Coop’s ear caused his hands to tighten - white knuckling the steering wheel harder than more. His foot lay flat against the floorboard, yet his foot on the gas was starting to speed up. Nipping lightly at his neck you smirk against his skin, purring softly into his ear; "Sshh, relax...I'll take good care of you."
Moving your hand from his thigh to the ever-growing bulge in his jeans, you bit down a bit harder onto his neck, watching how he eyes falter for a split second. There was a gentle tsk seeping from your mouth, enough to divert his attention back to the road . There was a ball of fear bubbling in your chest, threatening to scream out - but this new, darkened side of you made sure to silence it, licking at the straight jawline of Cooper.
Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clink echoing through the van as you remove his length; cheeks flash hot at the sight of him. He was big, too big for your mouth. Instantly a pool of saliva started to fall into your lower jaw, taking him all in with the minimal light you happened to have. Yet you could see every vein twitch and pull, beckoning you closer - wanting the sopping wet feel of your mouth over the tender, tanned flesh. The swollen, strained head of his cock made your core throb, wondering what it would feel like in your cunt. Maybe if your head game was strong, he could return the favor later on. Groaning at the mental image you created, you knew the real fun was about to begin. Cooper was not a patient man when it came to his large, hardened cock being out. The cold air nipped at the tender flesh - wanting to be enveloped by your mouth.
Leaning forward you press your mouth around his tip, licking softly over the slicked slit of his head, moaning against the reddened skin. The salty taste of his pre-cum caused your eyes to dilate to almost black - seeing nothing but pure passion. Bringing your right-hand up to gently cup his balls - you let your talented tongue slide over just the head, suckling on him gently. What you would give to see the look on Cooper’s face; His slack jaw hanging open, the slants of his eyes showing his lust perfectly. Holy shit, the thought of his hand slamming your head fully down onto his thick length, swallowing around him. The dirty thought caused you to moan against his tip, earning a softened hiss from Cooper’s mouth. You could feel him tossing his head back as you started to bob, eliciting a moan against his cock; "Eyes on the road, be good for me."
Nodding cheekily at your statement Cooper’s eyes focus on the road, while yours focus on his ever-growing cock. With each swipe of your tongue, he seemed to get longer, thicker just in your grasp. You needed to take him now. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you slowly started to lower your mouth down, hollowing out your cheeks around him. Each time you sunk down it caused Cooper to grip harder at the wheel, the leather cracking under his touch. It was enough incentive for you to try and take him fully - which you thought you could easily do. As the tip of his thick length brushed against your uvula, you instantly retracted - feeling how the tightening of your throat began - how the gagging commenced. Coop loved it, seeing you wipe yourself out just for his pleasure, it caused him to twitch right against your lip. The salty tang of his head and the mixture of your sweetened spit caused your pussy to throb, fuck you needed him.
Leaning your mouth back down halfway, you created a steady rhythm. Your mouth bobbed with two seconds each pass, your hand working the opposite. With the binaural beats you were creating on Cooper’s cock, his chest heaved erratically. He would not admit this to you, but it had been quite a while since he last got taken care of. Looking down for a split second, Cooper saw how patiently you worked with his length, giving it tender treatment. He loved how your plush lips wrapped around him effortlessly, basking in his musk and taste - giving him the best treatment he could ask for. Though his eyes threatened to watch you, not the road, he did not want to make his girl mad. He wanted to give you the world, to return the deed softly - once you got to his hideout, he was yours for the taking.
The mere thought of it caused his stomach to clench, you could feel it right against your cheek. He was going to cum so soon, and flat-out bricks in your mouth. The thought caused your eyes to widen, your tongue salivating quickly. Working the extra spit your mouth had produced over his member, you felt it start to drip down his length, pooling in the soft tuft of brown hair against the base. It was enough incentive for you to speed up your mouth, your grip getting a bit tighter around the base of his length. Your body worked in tandem with his, with every stroke of your lips and hand, your thighs tightened whilst his vibrated with the sensation. In a 45 zone he was going almost 90, causing the worry to bubble within your chest. Slamming your eyes shut you tried to relax your mouth, slipping down further onto him - feeling how he presses deliciously against the back of your throat. All it took was one little swallow, one little tense up of your throat for Cooper to string out curses.
"B-Baby, fuck...fuck princess!" Cooper yelled, spreading his cum across your tongue. You did not lay off your movements, still going at the same pace while he painted your mouth with his cum. The taste was something you have never taken in before, a sweet tang mixed with salt. It was more than his pre-cum slick could give you, yet no matter how much you moved, the man was never done. Cooper laced his fingers through your hair, balling it into a fist as he moved you languidly up and down. Teasing his balls was something you didn't think would cause him to cum more - but Jesus you were so happy about it. Each gentle roll caused his sack to pull up into himself - spreading more of his delicious seed over your tongue. You could feel his foot release from the gas easily, dropping down to the actual speed limit. Breathless moans cascaded from the opened area above, to the closed quarters below.
With a swift move, Cooper pulled you off of his cock by your hair - not giving you enough time to swallow his seed down. As the van started to slow down even further, you looked Cooper deep within his dark, gorgeous eyes - a sinister smirk playing across your glistening lips. Parting your mouth slightly you have him a first-row seat to the show, peaking your pink tongue through the milky substance. Cooper’s mouth fell completely open in shock, watching how you swallowed it down like it was nothing, moaning at the taste of him sliding down your throat. Small dribbles of his spent ran across your bottom lip, only to be followed up by your thumb, suckling off the excess. Leaning forth you placed a small kiss to Cooper’s cheek as the van stopped at the light. “Was that good, Mr. Butcher, sir?” You teased with a giggle, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
Cooper was dumbfounded, unable to process what had happened and your wording while he was coming down from his high. His now flaccid cock sat against the opening to his jeans, a sheen of sweat crossed his brow bone as his swept back hair was now disheveled. Swallowing down a moan, Cooper ran his long fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. Turning his head against the head rest, he smirked with glee – chuckling as he breathed out. “Oh, I am going to have fun with you.”
#cooper adams#cooper adams fic#cooper adams fanfic#cooper adams fanfiction#cooper adams angst#cooper adams smut#josh hartnett#josh hartnett fic#josh hartnett fanfic#josh hartnett fanfiction#trap movie#trap 2024#cooper abbott#cooper abbott fic#cooper abbott fanfic#cooper abbott fanfiction#cooper abbott smut#cooper abbott x reader#cooper abbott x f!reader
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HER STORY IS INCREDIBLE EVERYONE SIT DOWN AND LEARN FROM THIS QUEEN ⤵️
Kiana Scott, who played minor hockey system for 11 seasons, including four seasons on boys teams, gravitated to scouting from watching her brother’s games and critiquing his strengths and weaknesses.
Unaware of jobs available in hockey, she enrolled in makeup artistry college after high school, but knew her heart was in the sport.
She eventually enrolled in an online hockey general manager scouting course.
Scott joined the International Scouting Service Hockey mentorship program in 2018 and scouted for the service for two years while holding down two jobs.
“I love scouting future prospects, and the evaluation process,” she said. “I think that's kind of where my passion lies. It's just the evaluation process. And it's exciting, building a team.”
Scott spent two seasons as a full-time scout for Erie before she took a bold step and left the organization to move to Calgary and became an independent scout in June 2022.
“I just kept practicing my craft and kind of paid my own way, like, throughout the whole year,” she said. “All of the tickets to every game, all of my travel expenses, everything. I just put all my money into scouting and trying to evolve and then I ended up getting my (Avalanche) internship the next year.”
Scott had some financial help from her family for the move and she supplemented her income by working as a bartender at a Calgary casino, a job with hours that allowed her to scout games.
If all that wasn’t enough, she also enrolled in the University of Florida’s online sports management program.
“I've always had the mindset to just keep betting on myself and working hard and evolving,” she said. “I think I've taken a lot of risks to get to where I am, but I wouldn't try to change the journey for anything.”
Scott said she hopes women, women of color and people who don’t come from a so-called “traditional” hockey background will follow her on the journey.
“I grew up playing hockey, but I didn’t play professional hockey, I didn’t go to college or university for hockey,” she said. “I just had a passion for it. I love scouting. I worked at it, and I continue working at my craft.
“People that don’t necessarily come from the traditional background, I hope they see themselves in me and believe that they can put their minds to it and get it done.”
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The 2024 NHL Draft was as eventful for Kiana Scott as it was for the players who were selected in the seven-round event at Sphere in Las Vegas last month.
The 25-year-old Barrie, Ontario, native signed with the Colorado Avalanche at the draft to become a full-time amateur scout, fulfilling a goal she has had since she was a teenager.
“This is something that I've worked really hard for my whole career to be able to sign my first NHL contract,” Scott said. “I was elated. The Avs have been really good for me the past year, and I’m excited to keep building with them.”
Scott joined the Avalanche after working as an intern for the organization.
Colorado general manager Chris MacFarland said he and executive director of hockey operations Suzanne Borchert “were impressed with her work ethic and her passion."
MacFarland said: “Kiana was on our radar when she was scouting in major junior circuits ... and it worked that a few years ago we had an internship opportunity for her.
“She did a good job in that role and was an integral part of our amateur scouting department. We’re excited to see her contributions moving forward in her full-time role as an amateur scout.”
-----
Scott made history when she became the first woman scout in the Ontario Hockey League with Erie in March 2020.
She was among the initial of a wave of women who were hired in recent years as scouts at all levels of hockey, including Cammi Granato (Seattle Kraken), Blake Bolden (Los Angeles Kings), Krissy Wendell-Pohl (Pittsburgh Penguins), Meghan Hunter (Chicago Blackhawks), Gabriella Switaj (Anaheim Ducks) and Brigette Lacquette (Chicago Blackhawks).
Granato moved on from Seattle to become an assistant general manager for the Vancouver Canucks on Feb. 10, 2022, and Hunter was promoted to assistant GM by the Blackhawks on June 22, 2022.
“When I first started scouting, I didn’t know of any women in the industry already,” she said. “Cammi Granato got her job with the NHL a year after I started scouting. That’s when I kind of knew it was possible. But I never had anyone to look up to. I just had this dream and the passion for hockey. I knew that I had to the talent and skill to do it, and to try to keep building on them.
"That’s what I’ve always gone off on -- keep evolving, never give up on what you love.”
#kiana scott#colorado avalanche#nhl#erie otters#ohl#hockeyblr#women in hockey#diversity in hockey#minorities in hockey
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What are some facts or tidbits about Daniel that you don't think is very well-known?
Hey! Thanks for the great question. I have a few things not a lot of people have talked about Daniel, all of which are information taken from his father's book: "Walking in Daniel's Shoes".
Facts about Daniel Mauser
1. Daniel's name came from the Biblical character Daniel and his mother Linda's fondness of Elton John's song titled with the same name. Conner was Linda's maiden name and since she was an only child, it was a way for them to carry her family's last name.
2. In sixth grade, he struggled somewhat with depression. After his mother sent him to a therapist, it was revealed that he was feeling stressed because at the time, he had pneumonia and missed school a few times. He felt that his teacher was pressuring him to catch up. Fortunately, he recovered after a few months.
3. Daniel used to be in cub scouts and boy scouts for a few years. Once school had became more hectic and he was more engaged in piano lessons, he dropped out of the scouts. He had earned basic badges but was not too enthusiastic with scouting long-term.
4. On July 24, 1999, Boy Scout 359 installed a park bench in Daniel’s memory along the South Rim Trail at Roxborough State Park, ten miles south of Columbine. Daniel was once a member of the Boy Scout Troop that preceded 359. Roxborough was the Mauser family’s favorite hiking area.
5. He played chess and won second place in a Denver metro tournament as a member of the school's chest club team. He also won two National Science Olympiad awards, presented to the top ten scorers in general science knowledge.
6. He was an occasional babysitter and was great with kids.
7. He was a Junior Volunteer at Swedish Hospital for two summers and helped in the pharmacy and he expressed interest in working in a medical or medical research field.
8. Despite winning often in games like Super Mario Brothers and even Foosball, his dad had caught on he was getting bored of playing with him, but despite that, he still played whenever he was invited because that was how much he loved his father.
9. He had a keen interest in current events and social issues and was a frequent reader of Time Magazine and viewer of 60 Minutes.
10. His father said he sometimes worried about little things, like if the gas tank in the car was getting too low.
11. He played soccer for a couple of years when he was younger, tried skiing, and played baseball on a YMCA team.
12. Before his death, Daniel's Biology teacher told his mother that he would be receiving an award for outstanding sophomore biology student. It was a supposed secret, one which Daniel never found out.
13. His family was very close. Tom described them as a "Dinner Table Family", who always ate dinner together. According to his father's words, "there was no sneaking off to watch the TV or play on the computer. We are together, talked together, and exchanged stories."
14. Daniel and his sister were close despite their contrasting personalities. Daniel was more like his mother—shy, introspective, intelligent, and calm. His sister Christine was like her father—outgoing, witty, a bit wild and crazy. He would often roll his eyes at her and in an exasperated tone, he would exclaim, "Theater people! Oh, my God!"
15. He had a dry sense of humor and his mom thought he prided himself on being a rational sort of fellow who was not given to drama of any sort.
16. Tom, Daniel's father, grew out of poverty. He came from Finelyville, a small town south of Pittsburgh. His father was a coal miner, his mother was a housewife, and he was the youngest out of four siblings. Tom rarely had pictures of himself. However, he didn't want that to happen with his children, so he would frequently take their pictures and film them to keep memories.
17. Daniel didn't like his pictures being taken when he was a teen. His father would still insist to take pictures for keepsake.
18. When he was fifteen and a half, Daniel was qualified to receive his driver's permit but he said he wasn't ready yet.
19. His nickname in debate class, according to Devon Adams, was "Moose": "So appropriate —it's a large, amusing but quick and fierce when-it-needs-to-be animal."
20. Daniel volunteered to rake the leaves off the lawn of a neighborhood senior citizen's house after he recently had a heartattack.
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Another Love | Graham Dunne x Reader
Request from anonymous: more graham and reader with probs the inspo being the weezer song (I just threw out the love of my dreams)/ an unrequited love
A/N: This was so hard to write. It drained me, but I'm happy with the end product. There's no happy ending in this one, really onlt angst. Hope you guys enjoy and please feel free to request more. I write for Graham, Eddie, and Warren.
Warnings: Mentions of drugs (mescaline), unrequited love, implied sex, blood, profanities
Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist
Part One | Part Two| Part Three
Unrequited love. The leading cause of heartbreak not only in America, but in the rest of the world, too. It's that feeling in the pit of your stomach that sits there and never really goes away, no matter how many times you try to stop thinking about it. It plagues you, haunting every memory you have. You're left to wonder what could have been if, how things could have been different if. It's always an "if", always ending in a question mark and not a period.
You're love for Graham Dunne had never wavered in the twenty two years you had been in love with him. Not when he took your hand and guided you around the neighborhood because he was your fiercest, if not smallest, protector. It only grew when the two of you kissed each other under the bleachers at a high school football game, getting it out of the way with "no strings attached" before you opened yourselves up for dating. It didn't stop when he got his first girlfriend and you were left thirdwheeling. It didn't even begin to fade when he moved out to LA to pursue music while you stayed behind in Pittsburgh, destined for a typical 9-5 job.
Graham had his fair share of girlfriends, especially after The Dunne Brothers was formed. His role in the band, while not as popular as Billy, was prominent. He was cute, naive. But apparently so were you.
When you had heard the news that the band was on tour, set to stop in Pittsburgh, you reached out to Camila to confirm if it was really them. Of course, you had every album they had released, including 7,8,9—their newest.
"Camila," You had said into your phone, twisting the cord around your fingers, "Have they changed any since I last saw them? It's been, what, a couple years now, hasn't it?"
She sighed into the phone, "Other than Billy and I being parents? No, I don't think so. Warren is the same as ever, Eddie's a little more irritiable though. You'll meet Karen, she's got a no bullshit attitude. You'll love her. Your Graham still looks like a deer in headlights anytime he sees a pretty girl."
"Got it. And you? Are you coming?" You asked, hopeful you'd be able to see her again after so long.
"I'm going to try. I'll have to take Julia with me, though. It won't be easy, I'm a few months pregnant, Y/N."
Eyes widening, you smiled, "Oh, Cami, congratulations."
"Thank you, really, it's been hard being away from family. But I've got Billy and the boys, Karen, too, so it's not all bad. They're excited to see you, Y/N. Especially Graham. He hadn't stopped telling everyone about you since they scheduled Pittsburgh on the tour."
"He's been talking about me?"
She laughed on the other end of the phone, "Everyone already knows you, except for Daisy. But he can't help himself. He's like a kid on Christmas, dying to see you."
Trying to steady your breathing, you took a deeo breath, "Well, I'll see you guys in a few weeks, then. Keep me posted on how you're doing, though. Being pregnant on the road can't be easy."
"I will, Y/N," She said, "We'll see you soon. Julia, can you say bye to Y/N?"
"Bye bye!" A smile voice said on the other end of the phone.
Your heart melted a bit, "Bye Cami, bye Julia. See you soon."
With that, you hung up, your heart beating out of your chest.
You only had to wait a few more weeks before you saw him. It shouldn't be that hard.
-----------------
You met with the band at the concert venue, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bix of Graham's favorite chocolates in the other.
As soon as the van doors opened, Eddie opened the passenger door, sliding out onto the pavement. The two of you had known each other since middle school, but it was hard to believe it was him. He had changed. He had grown into his body, looking more confident than he had in the eighth grade.
He gave you a warm smile, pulling you into a side hug, "How are you, Y/N?"
"I'm doing good, just glad to see you guys. And you, you're doing good?"
"Couldn't be happier," He said, his smile faltering slightly as he spoke. Something had happened, you just weren't sure what it was.
Billy was the next out, helping a pregnant Camilla out of the van with one hand, his other supporting Julia.
Camilla waddled towards you, arms out before you could even say hello. Taking her daughter from her husband, she introduced her to you with a big smile.
Kneeling down, you handed Julia the small bouquet of flowers, "These are for you and your mama, Julia."
The girl gasped, hugging them to her chest as she looked up at her mother, jumping excitedly.
Camila mouthed a "thank you" and then looked back at Graham, who stood still, his eyes locked on yours.
Giving you a wink, she picked Julia up and followed Billy to scout out the venue.
As soon as she stepped to the side, you were being scooped up by Graham. He twirled you around, squeezing you so tight you found it hard to breathe.
When he finally set you down, you grabbed his arms for support, laughing at his straight-forwardness.
"It's good to see you, too, Graham," You said, pulling him in for another hug, "It's been too long. Pittsburgh isn't the same without it's favorite Dunne."
"I don't think I'm the favorite Dunne," He said, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.
You shrugged, "Maybe not, but you're my favorite."
"Then that's all that matters."
From the side of the van, a woman cleared her throat, looking expectantly at Graham to introduce her.
"Oh! Y/N, this is Karen, our keyboardist. She's British."
Karen stepped forward, nodding to you with a smile before looking at the younger Dunne, "Are those the only words you could think of to describe me?"
"I was put on the spot."
"And how would you describe her?"
Graham smiled, "Karen, this is my best friend in the whole world. We've known each other since we were in diapers."
Coming from the driver's side of the van, Warren walked towards you with outstretched arms, "Pears!"
"Pears?" Karen asked, looking at the drummer.
"Peaches and pears," Warren explained, nodding towards you and Graham, "Had to find some way to embarrass them, Karen Karen."
"Alright," She laughed, "How much mescaline have you had today, Rojas?"
He shrugged, "Enough to make the drive fun."
----------------
At dinner that night, you were seated next to Graham, and across from Eddie and Camila.
"So, Y/N/N, what have you been up to? Still in school?"
"No, I graduated in May, actually. I start my new job next week."
He clapped your back, "No way! Congrats, Y/N/N. I wish I could've been there to see your graduation."
"It's all good. I've been busy, anyway. What about you guys? Anything planned for after the tour?"
Graham nodded, taking a bite of his food, "Something big that Billy would kill me for talking about. Let's just say you'll have to buy our next record."
You released a breathy laugh, shaking your head, "I've still got your first two in my apartment."
"So, you seeing anyone?" He asked.
Was this some sort of code? Was this his way of preparing to ask you out? You had already waited twenty two years for this.
"No, I'm not. How about you?"
Before he could answer, Julia's cries filled the room. Camila looked around, apologizing as she began rocking her slowly, trying to calm the toddler down. Another tantrum, you guessed. Every bit as fiery as her father.
The conversation continued for another hour without you ever getting an answer to whether he was seeing anyone. You felt wrong bringing it back up since he had already moved on to telling you about the concerts they had been playing the past few weeks.
By the time the check came, you weren't ready to end the night. But they had an early morning tomorrow, with rehearsals and the concert. You understood and bid your goodbyes.
As they drove off, you walked to your car. But you didn't have your purse on you.
Walking back in the restaurant, you went back to your table, finding your purse hanging on the back of a wooden chair, along with Graham's wallet on the table.
Deciding to drop it off at their hotel, you got in your car and started driving.
-------
When you got out of your car, the first person you saw was Eddie, leaning against a pillar while taking a drag of his cigarette.
He straightened when he saw you, a smile on his face, "Y/N, I didn't know you were coming over."
"Me neither," You laughed, "But Graham forgot his wallet."
"I'll walk you in. They won't let you go in without one of us," Eddie said, putting out the flame of his cigarette in an ashtray.
You thanked him, following him inside the hotel and to the elevator.
Making small talk on the way up, you were reminded of how kind Eddie was. He was the most sensible of the group. Not blunt like Karen, not naive like Graham. He wasn't as tough as Billy or as laid-back as Warren. Camila had always been the voice of reason, but Eddie was outspoken.
He led you to Graham's door, knocking on it a few times.
When the door swung open, Graham was standing on the other side, less than half dressed.
Eddie stepped to the side, revealing you behind him.
A surprised expression settled over the youngest Dunne brother, "Y/N, what're you doing here?"
You dug his wallet out of your pocket, "You left this at the restaurant. Can't really go anywhere without it."
He smiled, taking it from you, "Thanks, I appreciate it. You have—"
From inside the room, a woman's voice rang out, "Graham, get the fuck back inside and finish what you started."
It wasn't just any woman, though. It was Karen.
You saw her shoes in the middle of the room from where you were standing, clothes strewn on the floor and dresser.
"I'll leave you to it," You said, swallowing the bile that rose in your throat.
Did he know your heart was breaking? You wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. It was the worst feeling in the world.
Turning on your heel, Graham didn't bother calling out behind you. He just closed his door, going back to what he hadn't finished.
God, you hated saying that.
Eddie walked beside you, taking notes of your expression. But he waited to say anything until he got in the elevator, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't... I didn't know they were together. Not just in there, but at all."
You stayed silent, unable to look at him. It wasn't his fault, but you were about to crumble.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
That's what broke you. Falling into his side, Graham leaned forward to catch you, his arms wrapping around your waist to support you as tears came rolling down your cheeks.
The elevator was filled with your sobs. You weren't the only one who's heart was breaking. Eddie had always hated seeing you like this.
When the doors opened, Warren appeared on the other side.
Eddie mouthed, "Go get him. Car."
He led you out to the car, a hand pressed on your back as he led you outside.
You slipped in the backseat with him, head resting on his shoulder.
"I thought... I thought he'd..." Your chest heaved, your hands frantically wiping your tears away, "I didn't... Eddie..."
"Shhh," He soothed, "You're going to be alright. I'm here, okay? I'm not going to leave you."
You nodded, clinging to his shirt as you tried to calm yourself.
That's when you heard a knock at your window.
Eddie reached over to open the door, Warren smiling down sympathetically at you.
"Pears, I've got somebody here to see you," He said softly, turning to his friend beside him, hissing, "Jesus Christ, zip it up, asshole."
That stung.
Graham poked his head through, "Y/N/N, what's wrong?"
Eddie glared at him. Another Dunne brother to add to his growing list of people he couldn't give two fucks about.
"Warren, are we interrupting something? I feel like we are."
"Get your head out of your ass, Dunne." Eddie snapped, gesturing towards you.
You pulled away from Eddie, "Can you give us a minute. Please?"
"I'll be right outside if you need me, okay?"
Nodding, you watched as he slid out of the car while Graham slid in, the doors shutting. You had never felt so alone.
"Y/N/N? What's wrong?"
"You, Graham. You're what's fucking wrong."
"I don't, I don't understand..."
You shook your head, "How long have we known each other?"
"Twenty two years."
"Do you love me?"
He nodded, "Of course I do."
"No, Graham, are you in love with me."
"Like—love love?" He asked, quite literally twiddling his thumbs.
"Y/N..." He trailed off.
Your head fell into your hands, inhaling sharply, "You may not be in love with me, Graham."
Sitting back up, you looked him in the eyes, "But I've been in love with you since we were in diapers. That hasn't changed. And it hurts, Graham, it hurts so much to see you with someone else. Because I love you. I always have."
He was silent, unsure of what to say.
"Um, Y/N... I... I'm sorry, I just... I don't think..."
"You didn't think anything of us being each other's first kiss? Nothing of us going to prom together two years straight? Me coming to all of your concerts? You coming to my recitals? Nothing? Absolutely nothing? I was so excited to see you, so excited. I was finally going to tell you how I felt. But I found you with another woman. You told me you had a long day and an early morning and that you couldn't hang out tonight. But you were just fucking your keyboardist."
"Y/N, she's not just my keyboardist."
Your nails dug into your hands, "Get out."
"What?"
"Get out, Graham. Out of my car."
"I'm sorry, I really am."
You pushed him away from you, screaming, "Get out!"
He didn't budge, trying to talk you down.
"I'll always love you, Y/N/N. But you're like my sister."
"I never want to see you again. Ever. I never want to have to look you in the eyes. I'm done, Graham. I'm done always being in second place.
He put a hand on your shoulder.
"So help me Graham, if you don't get out of my fucking car."
He got the message that time, his head bowed as he grasped the door handle.
Before he could leave, you muttered one final sentence, "I'm happy you found someone you love, Graham."
He didn't say anything, slamming the door and walking back inside the hotel.
You slammed your fists against the leather seats of your car, the thread hitting your knuckles just right so that they split open, oozing blood.
It burned, the blood on your hands as you tried to apply pressure.
The car door opened a few minutes later, Eddie sliding back in beside you. Taking note of your bloody hands, he slipped out of his shirt, leaving himself in a white undershirt.
He wrapped the sleeve around your bloody knuckles, pressing down on the wound.
Tears began spilling down your cheeks again and you leaned into him, your head in his chest as he stroked your hair, promising that you'd be okay.
Like you, Eddie had his handful of unrequited love. First Camila, then you. But like Graham, you were to blind to see that.
#fanfiction#daisy jones and the six fanfic#daisy jones#daisy jones fanfic#daisy jones & the six#daisy jones and the six#dj&ts#djats#graham dunne x y/n#graham dunne x reader#grahamdunne#graham dunne#graham dunne x you#taylor reid#taylor jenkins reid
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