#I’m sliding this in at 1:45 am... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chasedeys · 4 months ago

Note

do you write any rpf, like on Ao3? I’m new so idk if you’ve posted about it or not but IM LITERALLY OBSESSED with your answers to any anon ask. I would read a whole ten page essay from you about joemarr and im not joking. anyways, i love anything you post!!

hiiiiii loveeeee, thank you for liking my thoughts on joemarr!!! kind of self conscious abt it honestly bc im drawing up conclusions abt them technically without any basis but yeah 😭❤️ (also english is very much not my first language so i struggle to word things so saying you'd read a 10 page essay from me is very <33333)

i have written and posted 1 (one) fic and its a ja'marr gets nipple piercings fic lmaooo and opposite to the way it sounds it's not even horny or even tender horny its just like full of love and devotion ahaha no but really don't expect much please

some extra under the cut wkwkwk

SORRY BUT im taking advantage of this ask to add a whole unfinished 2k- jumble of another fic i was working on but probably won't finish bc the lack of full understanding of how contract and free agency works and like refusal to actually research shit bc i get stupid sad thinking about it so:

Joe stares down the stretch of the field, Ja’Marr standing by the rest of the receivers laughing as Chuck and Andrei try to playfully (....maybe) murder each other via sumo wrestling moves that are definitely not regulation. He’s just wearing tights today for bottoms–so the delicious tautness of his thighs are free for Joe to gaze hungrily at. Truck, 30 yards in front of him very patiently waiting to catch his warm-up throws, has cleared his throat three times in the past 45 minutes for Joe to tear his eyes away from Ja’Marr Chase and throw the damn ball.

It’s torture. It’s love, devotion.

It’s disgusting levels of Down Bad.

(joe gets introspective throughout practice post ravens lost yada yada they go back home, joe invites jamarr for sudden cheat day meal at like 2 am)

Ja’Marr shows up in his front door bleary eyed and sleep rumpled. He’s decked in thick flannel pajama pants that absolutely do not look cheap, dark grey geaux tigers hoodie with purple LSU letters that clashes with the red of his pants, last season’s bengals beanie that also clashes with the rest of his outfit colors, and gucci slides…that also clash with the rest of the outfit. It’s a mismatched sort of vulnerability that twists up Joe’s insides. Here’s his north star wrapped up in all the things Joe cherishes.

Ja’Marr turns up his nose when he finally finishes yawning right at Joe’s face and notices Joe with his raised eyebrow looking up and down amusedly at his outfit.

“Shut up,” he says. “It’s a 2 am non-party night. Like hell I’m dressing up pretty for you.”

Ja’Marr’s always pretty to Joe, but that’s fine.

“I didn’t say anything.” Joe replies back, moving to the side so Ja’Marr can drag his feet inside the threshold, “I don’t judge you for your fashion taste.”

Joe cleverly dodges the foot being kicked back to his side. Amazing reflexes, of course.

“Where’s this hearty meal you promised me?” Ja’Marr just talks loudly over the dig Joe makes at him.

“On its way. DoorDash says it’s 7 minutes out.”

“Did you get extra cream soup?”

“Yeah, of course.”

(yada yada some banter some cute shit wanted to describe them sitting in joes billion dollar custom renovated kitchen that i would stress out is 'modern and kitschy' with different shades of pink for accents)

He’s been making insane catch-and-runs, Joe reflects. Offers to his agent would be stacking up starting next year, his last year in his contract with Cincinnati.

“It would be easier.” Joe says, throat cramping. “If you want to trade.”

Ja’Marr’s hands stutter and his stupid little butter knife clatters to the table.

“What?”

Joe darts his eyes to the other man, a millisecond glance and he’s gazing back to his ice cream. The receiver’s voice had been harsh, choked up in surprise. Joe feels his insides curdle even worse.

“Just–” he starts, a mess of thoughts jumbled in his head, “if you wanted to. I would understand. Your stats are amazing. If Duke’s still gunning to be an idiot and wait for your contract to dry up before resigning, you can–”

Here he pauses. Saying things makes it real. Saying they’re not a championship level team made him want to gouge his eyes out. Saying how Ja’Marr could leave him would possibly end his life as he knows it.

But Ja’Marr deserves to know Joe won’t hold him back. He refuses to. So:

“If you want, you can sign up for free agency. Next season.”

Well.

Ja’Marr’s face is heartbreaking to see. Joe feels the corner of his mouth drag down, his eyes are fucking burning, his throat is closing up, his hands are clammy, his ears are ringing, his neck is cold but his head is on fire.

“Do you–” Ja’Marr starts, but his voice is cracking, so he has to start over again. He’s scrunching his eyes shut and his mouth is quivering and Joe feels like he’s clumped up dirt under a needlessly expensive boot.

Twice this season now he’s caused Ja’Marr to look like this. At least this time he’s not pushing him physically, but with the way Ja’Marr’s trembling all over this might just be worse. God, Joe can’t even blame being in Kansas City for this. This time, Ja’Marr isn’t hiding from the thousands of eyes scrutinizing him from the bleachers, from across the field, from the houses of unknown fans through LED screens. The agony is clear in the widening of his eyes and the curl of his mouth and the crack of his voice.

“Do you not want me?”

Just the barest whisper like Ja’Marr’s vocal cords has up and left. Joe feels insane thinking of the heart-clenching anymore? Ja’Marr doesnt say.

Joe’s mouth falls open but no sound comes out. There isn’t a single universe in the hypothetical collection of potentially diverse multiverses Joe believes in, that a Joe Burrow wouldn’t want Ja’Marr Chase to stay by his side. But would saying this to the other be right?

He takes too long to answer. Ja’Marr’s face shuts down, going cold.

“Wow, okay, fuck you.”

Joe flinches back at the viciousness of the curse. He has never once in his life been the direct recipient of Ja’Marr’s brand of tiger claws defense, teeth sharp, no mercy.

“I cannot believe you. I thought we were fine now! We’re on the same page again! I leave that contract bullshit behind, you fixed your anxiety over your wrist, but, what, another fucking shitty pick and you don’t think I got it anymore? Fucking free agency, shut your stupid fucking mouth, Joe Burrow, before I do something I regret.”

Joe’s hands automatically flashes to settle the plates rattling when Ja’Marr abruptly stands up and slams his hands to the table. He’s looking up at him now, still sitting down on the bright pink stool in his billion dollar kitschy kitchen with Ja’Marr Chase looming over him in fury.

“I followed you here! To fucking Ohio. I hated the idea of even stepping foot in this state before I fell in love with this fucking city! I did it because of you! I have said multiple fucking times that I’m not leaving you. I said to the fucking media that you were like a god to me, are you fucking kidding me? I bullshitted my way through all those disgusting interviews trying not to say the wrong thing and still having people say I’m stalking you or some shit because I can’t help word-vomitting over you! I have been this fucking close–”

Ja’Marr shoots his right hand up right in the space between them, pressing his thumb and pointer finger so close the skin whitens.

“–to saying to fucking Hobs that I’m ass over tits in love with you! And now you’re telling me it’ll be alright if I leave? That it'll be easier? Just because, what, this stingy ass poverty franchise doesn’t know how to handle its players unless they’re you? That we keep losing even when you throw fucking bullets and I run across the entire fucking field from endzone to the endzone for 60 points? Joe Lee Burrow, I swear if I loved you less I would kill you.”

Ja’Marr finishes his rant with another slam on the table like he needs one more outlet for his anger. He’s heaving breaths, tears running down his cheeks (god, no), face all twisted up. Through Joe’s frozen state, he could see Ja’Marr’s face pale rapidly as he fully realizes what he’s said. Mouth always running a full minute over his brain.

God.

Joe stands wobbly quick when Ja’Marr stumbles around the table towards the kitchen doors.

For all that Joe unashamedly lies over how fast he is–(’i am fast, ja’marr. I can outrun you.’ ‘be so for real right now.’)–he can never outpace Ja’Marr. But for this one thing–this one thing–Joe slams against a blurring Ja’Marr and uses the momentum and extra inches and pounds he’s got over the man to cage him against the nearby fridge.

Ja’Marr yelps as his back rattles against the fridge doors, magnets and receipts and photos and post-it notes not trapped between him and the door fall to the floor. One of those brightly colored humanoid magnets slam against Joe’s left toe. A polaroid of Joe and his Mom somehow balances perfectly right on top of Ja’Marr’s head before fluttering away when Ja’Marr shakes his head in furious disbelief. His beanie had fumbled off his head in the initial tackle, lying on the ground right next to Joe’s right foot.

Joe’s left hand is pinning his man’s right shoulder against the fridge door, hips flushed against him, a leg between his thighs, right arm tucked against the side of Ja’Marr’s waist, face right up against each other like every other overly enthusiastic helmet slam in the field after a ridiculous yard run–but there’s no helmet this time, and there’s no reason for Joe to hide how his eyes slide down the length of Ja’Marr’s face to his lips, letting his gaze linger deliberately long.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Ja’Marr blusters, cheeks going deep red, eyes pinballing widely over Joe’s own features (to his lips even! how exciting.), hands curling on each of Joe’s elbows with his nails biting down through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt over his skin. “What, are you going to hit me? Break my heart? You already did, asswipe, no need to be an annoying overachiever this time! Get off of me, I swear–”

“I don’t want you to go. I never want you to leave. Ever.” Joe cuts him off brutally. Let this be the firmest truth he’s ever said in his life. “I asked you to come here. I always want to play football with you. I always want random midnight DoorDash dinners with you. You keep saying insane shit about me in interviews, have you heard me talk about you? The last KC presser I had to hold back saying I hurt you in front of 50 people sitting down with their laptops open looking at me like I’m a bug to study. I have never been normal about you. You drive me insane, stop staring at me with those cow eyes. Who the fuck lies about dressing their friends up in magazine interviews? And that fucking photoshoot! Were you planning on killing me? Tee sends me your Instagram training pics from back in May like once a week to torture me! I nearly blocked his ass, Ja’Marr, shut up.”

(like. i want the speech to be more?? idk more emotional in the confessional aspect but alas i don't know how to write shit out)

Ja’Marr looks back at him wide-eyed. He hasn’t really said anything throughout Joe’s turn of ranting, but even so Joe needs him to shut up, genuinely. This beautiful, beautiful man doesn’t know Joe loves him. Stupid. Stupid.

“Ja’Marr.” Joe says, low and hoarse. He slides his hands up to cup at his cheeks now that Ja’Marr isn’t pushing his weight back at him. The wetness of his cheeks from his previous tears seeps into Joe’s skin. “I love you.”

“Oh, wow.” Ja’Marr just says back, hoarse and dumb. This man, Joe swears.

Whatever.

Joe kisses him hard and gets dizzy with it. Ja’Marr chokes in surprise, but gets with the program quick enough.

The side of his nose presses against Ja’Marr’s, he’s biting at his bottom lips, his lashes brush against the cold wetness of his cheeks, his hands press hard against the side of Ja’Marr’s neck and he feels like he can count each heartbeat against the tender skin of his wrists pasted to Ja’Marr’s jugular.

“Hi,” he murmurs over his man’s lips, heart feeling so fucking full.

Ja’Marr laughs against his lips incredulously, eyes screwed shut and lips stretched stupid wide. The prettiest thing Joe’s ever seen in his life. Insanely, he feels that if he were to play all 12 games of the season left this morning right after separating himself from Ja’Marr, he’d throw over 300 yards each. Things love could fuel you to do–winning a championship of a sport he’s thrown his entire heart in, with a man who’s gripped it tight since he knew how to throw it to him too.

“Dumbass,” Ja’Marr murmurs back, nudging his nose to Joe’s for the softest nose kiss Joe has ever experienced, “hi to you too.”

ok bye

#ask #joemarr #twice I've written joe slamming jamarr against walls and wall adjacent how exciting #anyway u didn't expect this i know lol but i have to get it out somehow and i was never going to really finish it so i took advatange sorry #thank u for asking!!!!!! hearts <3 #nfl rpf #my writing #you can probably see how biased i am writing these but oh well #do i tag their names or

24 notes · View notes

rabnerd28 · 6 months ago

Text

Chronicling the Cats Broadway Revival Lifts

Hey, you know how we joke that you could make a drinking game out of all the lifts that they do in the Broadway Revival? Don’t do it. You will die of alcohol poisoning before the Jellicle Ball.

4:54 Electra, Victoria and Tantomile are all lifted during the "Heaviside Layer" line of Jellicle Songs for Jellicles Cats (3)

9:20 Electra and Tantomile during Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats. (2)

9:28 Not a lift, but Tanto, Victoria and Electra are swung forward across the floor. Doesn’t count but I’m marking vaguely lifting actions.

14:41 Sillabub is lifted in the background at the start of Invitation. There might be more cats being lifted but my bootleg is mostly focused on the main cats for each number. (1)

14:50 Not even a full 10 seconds later, Sillabub and another cat (I think it’s Tantomile) are lifted again. (2)

18:45 Coricopat and Skimbleshanks lift Jenny so that a ball can go under her (1)

19:39 Bomba and Demeter grab Jenny and slide her across the large sports balls. (Side note: I really fucking hate the balls. Why are they in this number???)

23:28 Tumble and Plato lift Victoria and Tugger walks under her. (1)

22:36 Rumpleteazer, Demeter and Victoria are all lifted (3)

23:40 Victoria and Tanto are flung forward and then flung back.

24:05 Electra, Tantomile, Victoria and Rumpleteazer are held on at their armpits as they drop so that they would be flat on their faces if their partners weren’t holding them, followed by said partners lifting them off the ground and spinning them. I’m counting it. (4)

24:32 Tantomile and Victoria are spun on the ground and then lifted by cats right after. (2)

26:08 Sillabub, Victoria and Electra are mid cartwheel when their partners (Mungojerrie, Plato and Pouncival (?)) grab them and slow them down. Tantomile is then lifted by Coricopat. (1)

All lift adjacent behaviors are forgiven for Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. What’s not forgiven is how literal the choreography is.

39:25 We went almost a full fifteen minutes. Coricopat lifts Tantomile when they first sense Old Deuteronomy. (1)

39:34 Once again, Tanto is lifted by Cori. (1)

40:14 Tanto climbs on Cori’s back and Victoria climbs on Plato’s and they are lifted. (2)

43:15 Victoria is lifted by Alonzo, Tanto is lifted by Cori (?). (2)

45:07 Mungojerrie lifts Rumpleteazer onto the stage, same for Cori and Tanto. They then lift them both again to go behind Old Deuteronomy. Followed by another lift after those. (6)

45:22 Munkustrap carries Victoria out to the front of the stage, then hand her to Plato, who lifts her, alongside Sillabub being lifted by Tumble (3)

46:23 Tumble lifts Sillabub (1)

46:40 Victoria, Electra and Tanto are all lifted by multiple cats. (3)

47:06 Several cats are supported during their arabesques

48:20 Teazer, Tanto, Sillabub and Victoria are all lifted, followed by Victoria being lifted a second time (5)

49:40 Electra, Demeter, Victoria, Tanto and Teazer are all lifted pretty much upside down (5)

50:18 Plato picks up Victoria for a little run lift thing, followed by carrying her as she does a cartwheel. (2)

50:29 Tanto, Teazer, Sillabub, Bombalurina (her first lift) and Victoria are lifted. Everyone but Vicky gets lifted a second time. (9)

51:33 Vicky gets lifted twice for the Pas de Deux (2)

52:58 Tanto is lifted (1)

54:16 Sillabub and Electra are both lifted twice (4)

55:16 Tanto and Tori are lifted…twice in a row (4)

55:50 Tanto, Tori, Teazer and Sillabub (4)

56:09 Tori, Tanto, Sillabub (3)

56:23 You know, Victoria’s big lift would be really impressive if we didn’t just see 100 of them before it (1)

I’m surprised they didn’t work a lift into Memory

At intermission we have 79 lifts…I am loosing my goddamn mind. I am actively crying from how funny this is.

1:36:48 Victoria and Electra were flung forward

1:49:25 Victoria is lifted. I thought we were going to make it through the whole second act without one, but nope. (1)

We end with a total of 80 lifts.

#cats musical #cats the musical #cats Broadway revival #y'all i started loosing it #it became so funny after awhile #starting a theory that the reason the revival only lasted a year and a half is because everyone hated the lifts #which might be true #andy truly had no idea what he was doing

42 notes · View notes

maybankswife · 11 months ago

Text

Falling for him part 4

JJ Maybank x fem Kook Reader

Summary-

You and Sarah have been best friends since you could walk, and now it has all started to change. and fast.

*This uses scenes from Obx Season 1, but modified to fit Y/N into the storyline.*

Warnings:

Mentions of a fight, bruises, tension, swearing.

A/N:

this is a longer part, around 4.9k words 😬 hope you enjoy!

6:45 AM

You’re woken up to the sound of your mum opening the shutters in your room, your mum is a big fan of routine and even when its summer break she doesn’t let you sleep in on weekdays, only weekends. You cover your eyes with your arm, trying to shield your eyes from the light. You can hear your mum walking over to your bed, she leans down and kisses your cheek, pushing your hair away from your face.

“Come on Y/N/N, time to get up” she speaks gently, rubbing your arm. You put your arm down and force your eyes open. Your eyes meet with hers, shes already in her active wear from Lorna Jane. You stretch under the covers. Removing the duvet off your body, you sit up your feet touching the rug that’s next to your bed.

“What are we doing today?” you ask her, standing up stretching. She smiles at you,

“I’m not sure, whatever you would like. I need to work on a case today, so you can do whatever you want” your slightly annoyed that she isn’t waking you up for a real reason, but you know this has benefits to you.

“I might go surfing” you say as your start making your bed, your mum is calling Oakley over to her.

“Sounds fun sweetie” You continue fixing the pillows on your bed, you can hear Oakley’s nails tap the wood floor as she walks over to your mum. “Okay I’m going to take Oakley on a walk down at the beach, I’ll see you soon” your mum breaks the silence, she leaves your room, closing the door behind her. You sit down on your bed, grabbing your phone from the side table. You look through your notifications on your lock screen, nothing important. You stand up, walking out of your room and into the hallway. You make your way to the kitchen, the huge floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that lead out to your backyard and the beach, are open as well as most of the windows in your house. You pull open a cabinet and pull out the blender. You place it on the counter, plugging it into a nearby outlet. You walk over to the fridge, pulling the door open.

You grab out the ingredients to make your favourite smoothie.

Frozen Mango

Frozen Pineapple

Coconut water

Fresh passion fruit

Fresh kiwi

Orange juice

Since you’ve made this smoothie hundreds of times, you can guesstimate how much of each thing you need in it. You put all the ingredients into the blender, turning it on. Whilst it’s blending you get a glass cup from the cabinet, and a glass straw. When its finished blending, you take the lid off the blender cup, pouring it into your glass and putting the straw in. you make your way over to the kitchen island, sitting down on a barstool. You open your phone, looking through who messaged you last night, and what’s been going on in the world whilst you were sleeping. You sip the smoothie, delicious as always. You see that all of the pogues have accepted your follow and have all followed your back. You accept all of their request and start looking through their accounts. You start with Kies, all of her posts are single photos of the beach, sunsets, turtles, and the silhouettes of the pogues. Shes taken down all the photos of you in them. her highlights are pretty much the same as her posts, a couple of photos of her and her parents and that’s it. You move onto JB’s account, his posts are similar to JJ’s, a lot of the same photos too. He doesn’t have any highlights, but you see a post of him and Sarah holding hands. Secret but not secret relationship. Pope’s account has nothing. Literally nothing but a Bio saying “P4L”. You move onto snapchat, responding to some people’s snaps. You really don’t feel like hanging out with the pogues today, as much as you would like to, you just need a day to yourself after yesterday. You message Sarah.

“Hey Sarah, I can’t hangout today mums making me hangout with her” sent.

“Awh okay, that’s okay see you soon” She replies, you sigh grateful for the lack of interrogation. You put your phone back down onto the table, finishing your smoothie.

You stand up, and walk over to the sink, rinsing out your glass and putting it into the dishwasher. You walk down the hall, back into your room. You walk over to your dresser to find a bikini. You decide to go with a hot pink set, that has small white hibiscus flowers on it. You pull off your pyjamas, then pull on the bikini top. This set is made for surfing, so its securer than your regular string ones. You pull up the bottoms, they sit in the perfect spot for a good tan line. You grab some loose white linen shorts to wear over the bottoms, and your Birkenstocks. You grab one of your many tote bags from a hook and start putting in a few essentials. Sun-Bum SPF15 tanning oil, towel, book, a cap, your hairbrush, and lastly your phone. You tie your hair up into a bun before leaving your room.

You walk out to your backyard where your surf shed is, you grab your surfboard out from the corner and carry it down to the beach. It was waxed a few days ago, so no need to rewax it just yet. You make your way down to the sand, the sun beaming down onto you is your favourite feelings. You find a good spot to put your stuff, dropping the surfboard onto the sand as well as the tote bag. You shimmy out of the shorts, putting them into your tote bag. You pull out the tanning oil, putting a generous amount into the palm of your hand, rubbing it between your hands. You rub it into your skin.

One of your skills that you have, is being able to put things like tanning oil and sunscreen on your back, its easy for you to do it. You make sure you get the tanning oil everywhere, including your face. You sit down on your board, letting the oil sink into your skin before you go into the water.

You sit there listening to the waves crash against the shoreline, and the seagulls calling out. Breathing in the familiar smell of salt and sun. The sand warm on your feet, letting your mind wonder.

You can tell the oil has melted into your skin, so you stand up ready to surf. You pick up your board putting it on your side and running towards the water. Once your deep enough, just below knee deep in water, you put the board onto the water, jumping on top of it. You start paddling out, waiting for a wave to come.

Riding the wave, your mind goes silent, absorbing the summer sun. This is all that you want to do this summer. Wait for the perfect wave to come, ride it, let your body move, and doing it all over again.

Its around mid-day when you finally decide to get out the water, your hair is wet and messy. You paddle back to shore, standing up when its to shallow to keep paddling. You lift up the board, holding it on the side of your body and walking up to where you left your stuff. You put your board down onto the sand, laying your towel over it so you can soak up the sun for a while. you remember this thing you had seen on TikTok, a girl put sunscreen into the shape of a love heart on her leg whilst she was tanning, and when she took it off it left a love heart tan line on her skin “sunscreen tattoo”. You didn’t bring any sunscreen with you, but there was some in the surf shed so you decided to run up to your house.

You got to the shed, opening the door, and walking in. you found the Sun-Bum SPF50 sunscreen, you grab it throwing it up in the air and catching it again. You run back down to the beach, sitting down on your board. You decide to do it just above your bikini line in the shape of a sun, you made it look pretty, and lied down on the board. You set a timer for an hour on each side. Whilst you were tanning, you decided to take a photo for your Instagram story.

Once you posted the photo, you put your phone back in your bag, pulling out your book “The summer I turned pretty” written by Jenny Han. You lie on your board, reading the book and listening to the world around you. This is what you call “me time”.

2:00PM

It’s been 2 hours already, you stopped reading when you had to turn onto your stomach and instead fell asleep for an hour. You woke up when the hour timer went off. In that time, your hair had completely dried, and you had the best sun nap ever. You got up, stretching. You pulled your hair out of the bun it was in, you grabbed your hairbrush, brushing out all the knots. You put the brush back in the bag and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through the notifications. You opened Insta to see who liked your story and you were shocked when you saw JJ’s name. you smiled seeing his name on your screen, it was a new feeling. You put your phone back into the bag, standing up. You decided to go for a swim before going back inside. You ran down to the water, splashing it everywhere. You dived in getting fully soaked. You emerged out the water, pushing your hair back. You swam around for a little while, looking at all the tiny fishes that swam close to your toes.

3:00PM

You finally convinced yourself to get out the water and go back home. You collected all of your items and wrapped the towel around your body. You started walking back up the sand and to your backyard. You put your board outside the surf shed, letting it dry before you did put it in there. You walked pass your pool, and onto your porch. Your mum was sitting on the couch on her laptop, probably doing some work. You walked in, Oakley wagging her tail at you.

“Hey mum” you walked behind the couch to the kitchen to get some water.

“Hey bubba, did you have a good day?” you could hear here typing away at her laptop, she usually got off her devices when she spoke to you, so the fact that she is still on her laptop meant that she is really busy.

“Yeah, I surfed for like 4 hours, tanned for 2 and swam for 1” you pulled out a freezing cold bottle of water from the fridge and started chugging it.

“Sounds like fun, did you see anyone?” she asked, her voice not a genuine as what it usually is.

“No not today, I just wanted some me time” you swallowed another sip of water, “what did you do today?” you question her, putting the empty bottle in the recycling bin.

“Well, I took Oakley on a walk, when I got back, I saw you surfing from the house. I went to the shops, bumped into Rose Cameron, came home, and started doing some work” she replies, you can tell shes not really focused on the conversation.

“Oh cool, okay I’m gonna go for a shower” you walk towards the hall but pause when you hear your mum call out to you.

“Okay, let me know when you want dinner” you continued walking to your room, you put away all the stuff you had taken with you to the beach, then picked out a casual outfit to wear for the rest of the day.

You picked out your favourite sundress, its yellow with white flowers on it, for shoes you decided to go for your white converse. You put the dress on the bed and made your way into the bathroom. You pull the bikini off and look at your tan lines in the mirror. They are literally perfect. You turned on the shower, because your hair had only just been washed you chose to just rinse it out and put some conditioner in. You rinsed your hair, then put some Ouai conditioner. You put it in a claw clip and washed your body whilst waiting for it to soak in. you wash your body with the philosophy vanilla coconut body wash, cleansing every nook and cranny. Once you finished washing your body, you took your hair out of the claw clip brushing it with a comb before rinsing out the conditioner.

Finishing your shower, you changed into the yellow sundress and converse. You love the way the dress looks on you, it sits on all the right places, curving all the right curves it is utterly perfect. You sit down at your vanity, pulling out your Dyson air wrap. You started drying it, then styling it in our favourite way.

You put on your go-to gold jewellery stack that consist of 2 necklaces, one that has a diamond incrusted sun charm and the other with F/L/Y/N charm, then your pura vida bracelets for both wrists, your ring stack for both hands, and finally your favourite chunky gold hoops.

4:30 PM:

“I was thinking about going out for dinner tonight, what do you think?” your mum broke the silence between you.

“Ooh yeah, at the Wreck?” you respond, petting your dog Oakley who is sitting on the couch next to you.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Carrera anyways. Are you ready to leave now?” She stood up, shes wearing an outfit you hadn’t seen before. It’s a dark navy button up shirt, that’s tucked into high waist shorts. It looks really nice, elegant.

“Yeah sure, are we taking your car?” you stand up, walking over to the sliding glass doors closing them.

“Mhm, I’ll meet you at the car. Thanks for closing up” You continue closing other open windows and doors, once you did that you filled up Oakley’s water bowl. You walk out the front, your mum has already reversed the car out of the garage. You can hear her blasting music in the car. You stroll over to the car, opening the door of the passenger side and scotting in. Shes playing “Young Folks” written by Peter Bjorn and John. A song from one of your favourite tv shows “Gossip girls”.

You sit down at a table, tucking your dress behind your leg before sitting. You put your phone down on the table, looking around at the restaurant. Behind the counter you see Kiara working, she seems to be writing down an order. The restaurant is busy for a Monday night, you pick the menu off the table and read through the items.

“What are you thinking? I was looking at the prawn cocktail for a starter” your mum spoke, still looking at the menu.

“I was thinking some garlic bread” you reply, moving your eyes to the Mains. One thing catches your attention, their crab boil. You’ve heard a lot of good things about it but haven’t had the chance to try it.

“I think I’m going to get the tomato and tiger prawn pasta” your mum said, licking her lips. You put the menu down now that you know what you’re getting.

“I’m going to get the crab boil” you readjust your sitting position, taking a sip of water from the complementary water they gave you.

“Sounds delicious, what are your plans for tomorrow?” your mum questions, putting her menu down.

“I will hit up Sarah or something” Bzzzz, you feel your phone buzzing on the table. You pick it up, looking at the notification. Funnily enough its from Sarah, you open the message reading it.

“Have you spoken to JJ at all today?” the message causing your heart to beat faster, you re-read it thinking back to today.

You start typing “No y what’s happened?” you respond, staring at your phone waiting for her to respond.

“He’s gone MIA, he walked off earlier today and isn’t replying to anyone’s texts” You read through the message, carefully and slowly as to not miss any small details.

“I will lyk if I hear anything” you type out the words and hit sent, putting your phone back down on the table. Your mind rushes with thoughts of worry, you assume its not like JJ to disappear like that seeing as Sarah is asking you about it. You stare off to the distance, thinking about what could have happened.

“You okay princess” the words cut through the air like a knife, you blink turning your attention back to your mum.

“Yeah, just thinking about food” you laugh it off, forcing to push the thoughts about JJ to the side.

Kiara walks up to your table with a notepad and pen, “Welcome to the Wreck, Oh! Hi Miss Palmer” she realised who was sitting at the table halfway through the sentence, she glanced over to you giving you a half assed smile.

“Hello Kiara! How are you?” your mum asks her, she knows everything about Kiara and your friendship and what happened last year.

“Yeah, I’m good thank you! what can I get for you guys?” she asks, tapping the pen against her notepad.

“For starters, can I order garlic bread please” you speak, looking at the menu making sure your saying the right thing.

“Of course, and for you Miss Palmer?” Her voice is different to usual, probably her ‘customer’ voice.

“I would like the prawn cocktail please”

“And for mains?”

“I’ll get the crab boil please”

“Can I please have the tomato and tiger prawn pasta”

“Good choices, those are my favourites. Any drinks?”

“Y/N will have a sprite, and I’ll get a glass of your finest red wines” your mum finished the order, handing the menu over to Kiara. You pick yours up off the table, passing it to her as well.

“Perfect, shouldn’t be to long” you watch as she walks away, and behind the counter. You want to ask her about JJ.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom” you say, sliding your phone off the table. You push the chair back, standing up.

“Okay sweetie” your mum grabs her phone out of her purse. You turn around walking towards the counter. You slow down, your still thinking of what to say to her. You get to the counter, and she looks up at you.

“Hey, sorry I don’t mean to bother. Sarah was wondering if you’ve spoken to JJ at all?” you ask, putting your hands on the counter. She looks at you funny, as if you have spoken to her in a completely different language.

“No, I haven’t. Why?” her words taste sour, she spits them out at you. you clear your throat.

“Apparently he’s gone MIA, walked away from the group earlier today and isn’t talking to anyone” you tap your fingers on the counter and watch as she types your order into the tablet.

“Haven’t heard from him. Look, I’m really busy right now I’ll talk to you later” She turns around, pushing open a door that leads into the kitchen. You stand there like a complete idiot, you decide to go to the bathroom before returning back to the table. You push the door open, and it squeaks obnoxiously as it closes behind you, you don’t even really need to use the toilet, so you just look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair.

When you walk out of the bathroom you see Mr Carrera standing at your table, talking to your mum. You walk up to the table, sitting down on your chair observing the conversation.

Its nothing interesting, just about a recent law case that is going on. You go back to your phone, scrolling through Pinterest. Your Pinterest feed is mainly couple photos, the ocean, room ideas, and surfing. You’re still thinking about JJ, your worried about him. Clearly Kiara couldn’t care less, you want to find him and make sure he’s okay.

“And how are you Y/N?” Mr Carrera’s voice booms through your ears, you look up from your phone. He hasn’t spoken to you since last summer.

“I’m really good thank you, how are you?” you return the question, turning your phone off and throwing it onto your lap. He smiles, big white teeth grinning at you.

“I’m doing well thanks, same old” he laughs, gesturing to the restaurant around him. You smile sweetly, snickering, trying to be polite. You turn your focus back to your mum who’s watching the awkward exchange between you and Mr Carrera.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your food. Let me know if you need anything” He places a heavy hand on your shoulder, quickly taking it off.

“Thank you, Mike, talk soon” To your despair, your mum ends the conversation with him. You watch him walk away and through the same door that Kiara had walked behind earlier.

7:30 PM

Your mum pulls into the driveway, the taste of the crab boil still in the back of your throat. She puts the car into park and turns the car off.

“That food was delicious” Your mum expresses, picking her purse up from the floor of the car. You push the seat belt buckle, unclicking it from around your frame.

“Yeah, it was really good, my breathe smells like garlic now tho” you laugh, pulling the door handle to open the car door. You put one foot on the concrete, followed by the other you swiftly get out the car. You mum follows after you, slamming the car door when she gets out. You're stuck in thought, thinking about the way Kiara was so dismissive about JJ. You follow your mum to the front door, watching as she unlocks and pushes it open.

“Ladies first” she giggles like a school girl, standing to the side and gesturing you to go inside.

“Very funny, thank you” you laugh at her joke as you walk inside, the recognizable smell of home wafting you as you stood in front of the shoe wrack, kicking your converse off. Your mum gently presses her hand onto your back,

“I’m going to feed Oakley, then I’m heading to bed” she takes her hand off your back, walking past you and down the hallway into the living space. You can hear her calling Oakley and talking to her in a baby voice.

You slump, finally free from having to act perfect all night. You walk down the hallway that leads to your room, pushing the door open you run over to your bed. Belly flopping on top of it. Your exhausted from today, the sun and water makes you feel so tired. You let your body relax, you lie there fighting off sleep. You groan, pulling yourself up. Sliding off the side of your bed you walk over to your dresser, searching through your pyjama drawer. You pull out a tight cropped grey shirt, and blue and white striped grandpa shorts. You hold the pyjamas in your hands as you walk into your bathroom, placing them on your sink bench. You unzip your dress, pulling it off your shoulders letting it slide down your legs. You step over the dress, leaving you standing in your bra and undies.

JJ’s POV:

I wince for every step I take, exhausted. I have my arm wrapped around my torso, trying to keep the pain as little as possible. I’m on figure eight, walking around in the dark. I hiss at the pain on my face when I wipe the sweat off my forehead. As I walk down the street, I look around me recognizing the houses around me. I’m somewhat near Y/N’s house, I need her, all I want is her right now.

I turn the corner, the smell of the ocean getting stronger with each step I take. I remember that Y/N’s house is right in front of the beach, I have to be close.

At this point I’m practically crawling, I’m hunched over trying to walk as fast as I can. Dad really did some damage this time, hope he’s happy. I force myself to stand up straight, groaning as I do so. I look down the street, noticing a manicured lawn and a big white house. Its Y/N’s. I sigh, relived to know I’m close to some sort of comfort. I can feel the blood drying up on my face, but the pain only intensifies.

I’m on my hands and knees, dragging my body up the lawn to a window. I can see dim lights shining through the sheer curtains, I just have to hope is Y/N’s room. I pull myself up with all the remaining strength I have left in my body, I stand in front of the widow. I stare into it, reluctant to tap on it. But I see a figure walk across the room, a breathy laugh exits me.

I knock on the window.

Y/N’s POV:

As soon as you sat down on your bed, you hear a knock at your window. your heart pounds in my chest, you jump up to your feet but freeze in place. Too scared to look.

Another knock on your window.

You lean to the right, trying to see if you could see who it was but you couldn’t see through the curtains, and its pitch-black outside.

Another knock on your window.

“Y/N are you there?” a voice comes from outside, you can barely make out the words. You wince at the sound of your name falling out of whoever’s mouth this is. “Please, let me in” you hesitate, hearing the words coated in a weep. “Fuck it if I die, I die, its whatever.” You whisper to yourself. You walk over to the window, pulling the curtains to the side. You nearly jump out of your skin when you see a face staring back at you. But your breath slows when you see its JJ’s blue gaze that’s staring at you, with a pleading look on his face. you sigh, shaking your head. You push the window up, opening it. A gush of humid air surrounds your body.

“JJ what the hell, you scared the shit out of me” you step back, giving the blonde room to climb into your room. You watch as he pulls himself in, but gasp as his body hits the floor with a thump. You look over him, his knuckles covered in blood and bruises. You move your eyes further up to his beautiful face, his lip is busted, dried blood under his nose, a black eye, and a huge gash on his forehead just below his hair line. His hair is covered in sweat, and messily dropped over his forehead. You stare at him, confused on what’s going on. You watch his chest rapidly rise and fall, his eyes frantic looking around your room. You drop to your knees by his side, looking him up and down thoughts rushing through your mind.

“JJ what happened?” your words come out harsher than you wanted them to. You look into his eyes, but he struggles keeping eye contact with you, looking down at the floor. You sit in silence, watching his jaw tense up and an angry scowl on his face.

“Nothing” he blurts out, he stands up fast causing you to fall backwards. He starts to climb out the window, “shouldn’t have come”. Your quick to grab his shoulder, his attention turns back to you.

“JJ, stop. What happened?” you tug gently at his shirt, telling him to come back inside. He rolls his eyes, leaning his head up against the window frame.

“Got in a fight” His words are sharp, to the point. Your hand still on his shoulder, you gently rub your fingers in circles. Barely touching him, but touching him enough to feel.

“With who JJ?” you question, watching the blonde swing his feet back onto your bedroom floor.

“Nobody doesn’t matter who” he stands up, towering over you. You place your hand on his chest, you can feel him quickly pull back from pain. You pull your hand off, hovering over where you had placed it. “Shit sorry”, you rush through the words, looking up at JJ.

“Your okay” He looks down at you, you can see his glazed blue eyes.

“JJ let me help you. Here sit down” you point over to your bed, you watch JJ in anticipation waiting to see if he will comply. He nods his head, you watch his as he limps over to your bed. Carefully he sits down on the corner of the bed, he is barely on it. It’s like he’s scared to sit on it. “Take your shirt off JJ, I’m going to grab the first aid kit” you hurry into your bathroom, squatting in front of your bathroom sink you pull open a drawer. You pull out the first aid kit, you kept it in your room because you often had surfing accidents. You stood up, closing the drawer with your foot. You can see JJ in the mirror as he pulls his white shirt off, revealing the mess of bruises and cuts all over his body. You take a deep breath before turning around and walking back to where you had left JJ.

60 notes · View notes

yeoja-dream · 1 year ago

Text

Intertwined

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn

Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader

Content Warning: none

Word Count: 3.5k

You woke up the following morning to the blaring of your alarm waking you from a restful sleep. Instantly, you are in a bad mood. The post-concert blues were hitting like a truck. How were you meant to go back to regular life after a night like that?

You pick up your phone, scrolling through work emails. I’ll have the payment for this month’s tuition tonight! The twins will be missing from the 10 am hip-hop intermediate class! Ms. Y/N I really think I’m ready for pointe! You sorted through the usual sort of emails when your eyes landed on a more unusual email. Private lesson request. That’s weird. You muse to yourself, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you open the request, sliding yourself up into a seated position in bed.

“1 adult lesson, style is hip hop and modern…” You mused out loud scrolling through the details. “9 pm is cutting it a little close 1 hour before closing, but it says you’re prepaid so…” You trail off. “Approved!” You announced out loud before hitting the confirm appointment button through the appointment portal. “What was the name anyway?” you scroll back up and snort at the answer. Kim Seokjin? That had to be a joke or a crazy coincidence. Either way, you were definitely going to have to ID this new client. Imagine if it was him - the thought amuses you as you begin your day, preparing for a day of classes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite your initial grumpy start, and perhaps it was the thrill of a mystery client who, you admit you’ve been dreaming about being Jin all day, but the day passes you quicker than you first believed. Not even Roberto in your toddler dance class 1, his endless energy typically giving you an endless headache, broke your stride today.

You waved the last student out, shutting the door and locking it behind you. Can’t be too careful these days. You reminded yourself. You glanced at your watch, 8:15. Perfect, 45 minutes until Mr. Kim Seokjin walks through my front door. You thought to yourself, bemused.

Putting aside your delusion, you organized the studio for a private lesson, and most importantly, you could slip into the back and enjoy a light dinner. On your phone, you sighed dramatically as you found yourself flipping through photos from last night. When will I ever get to experience something like that in my lifetime? You whined inwardly, bemoaning your modest finances. Maybe in another life 100 years or so, another group will pop up and you will have saved enough to get the same seats. Maybe. Your daydreaming was interrupted, however, by the unmistakable sound of a locked door trying to be opened.

Your eyes snap to the time. 8:58 pm. Shit. How could I have let time get away from me like that? You snap up from the paper-cluttered desk and run, as fast as your legs will take you through the studio room and into the reception area. It was the person visible through the glass that stopped you dead in your tracks.

You blinked once, twice, and rubbed your eyes for good measure. Holy. Shit. HOLY SHIT. THAT WAS KIM SEOKJIN. KIM SEOKJIN IS STANDING OUTSIDE MY STUDIO RIGHT NOW. Amidst your internal, slack-jawed panic, Jin stood just outside, black t-shirt and baggy pants hung off him effortlessly. He held up a phone screen and pointed at it, saying something you couldn’t make out through the glass.

Let him in you idiot! Your inner voice scolds. I can’t give a dance lesson to Kim Seokjin! I should be asking him for advice! You fired back. Let him in, idiot. She says, firmer this time which is enough to break you out of your stun.

You walk up to the glass door, and with a trembling hand, undo the latch and swing open the door.

“Sorry, I had a lesson scheduled for tonight, if now isn’t a good time I could reschedule.” He offers politely. He thinks I forgot.

“No, no come in please!” You said as you opened the door wider for him to slip in. “I didn’t forget it's just uh,” He made eye contact with you “...robberies.” It was all you could finish.

“Right well, no worries!” He said, his disposition relentlessly sunny despite how badly you were screwing this up.

“Oh sorry before I take you back,” You start, and again the voice in your throat dies into a timid squeak as you finish your sentence “I just really to see some ID and if you would change your shoes I would really appreciate that you see its just house rules and-”

“Sure. No problem. Here’s my ID,” he said, handing it fully to you. Can I sit here and change my shoes?” He asked, gesturing to the bench next to the reception desk.

“That is exactly what it is there for. I will sign you into the system so it won’t change you the no-call no-show fee.” You plopped down at the desk, ID in hand. “Is there a reason why there is a sticker over the numbers?”

“Oh yeah, I have to show my ID sometimes and all it takes is one person with a good memory and bad intentions to steal my identity. I am sure you understand.” He said, slipping on a pair of clean, white sneakers.

“Oh wow yeah, I guess that’s true. A lot of weirdos out there, huh?” You asked, sliding the ID back towards him.

“Tell me about it.” He said, picking up the card. “What do you think, more handsome in real life, right?” He asked with a wink.

As if reflexively, your eyes rolled before you had the forethought to process how rude it might have appeared. Jin laughed heartily.

“No sorry! Force of habit!” You said, putting your hands together apologetically. “Of course, you’re more handsome in person!”

“No no!” He said, still laughing. “It was a funny reaction, genuine.” He added, sliding the card into his wallet. “Shall we?” He asked gesturing to the dance studio.

“We shall,” you said, leading the way.

The studio lights had been dimmed, the normally bright, overhead fluorescent lights seemed too sterile for a one-on-one interaction. The rest of the equipment had been put to the sides of the room, leaving it completely vacant with the exception of the worn tape on the floor demarking where students were to stand.

“So let's start with some stretches.” You said, sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Jin followed your command wordlessly. You turned yourself at an angle to him, feeling immediately more at ease. It was easier to deal with him on your periphery. There was a sensation, one that you had been able to ignore on account of your nerves that had been present, you now observed, since he had first arrived. It felt like blue zaps of electricity buzzing through you, and as you spread your legs, lean forward into a split, and feel the stretch, it clicks. This was the feeling you had at the concert. The electric current, the dizzy, hazy feeling that washed over you when you locked eyes with them, it was coming on stronger and stronger, and it was making you bolder.

“So,” You began. “Let's start with the basics. What brings you to a random dance studio when your company has plenty of dance teachers and choreographers?” You ask, stretching an arm across your chest.

Jin mirrored you. “Let’s call it happenstance. Besides, the greatest way to learn is to be taught by many teachers.”

“Okay, Confucius.” You teased. “What did you want to learn today?”

“I want to learn whatever it is you are learning.” He said matter-of-factly.

You snorted. “I doubt you want to learn what I am learning.”

“Try me.” He said, standing up.

You followed his lead, standing. “If you insist.” You said with a shrug. From the back wall of the studio, you dragged two chairs to the center of the space, about 5 feet apart. “I have been choreographing a routine using this.” You said gesturing to the chair.

He knitted his eyebrows together in concern for a moment, before the expression dissolved, as did his resolve.

“Alright,” He began, “Show me first, so I can get an idea of what it is you are referring to.”

You walked over to the music player, set a 10-second delay, and walked over into position. As the beat hit, you moved your body with long-practiced poise and grace. The routine was like lovers making love for the first time, slow, explorative, and careful to begin. As the song continues, though, the intensity rises before BANG! The finale.

You lost yourself in the music, whatever high that crept into your system made you carefree and light. You put your everything into every moment, and as you grinded and body rolled, you never forgot whose eyes were on you. You didn’t shy away.

As the song finished, you let loose the final, explosive move, a visual orgasm to finish the routine. You let the silence hang for a moment while you caught your breath, without the music, shame began to reach through the haze.

“Well…?” You asked, turning around. You weren’t sure what you expected him to look like, or even how you expected him to react, but as you turned, a dark, hungry, and heady expression sat on Jin’s face. Where before he had been kind, respectful, clinical, even, your heart rate rose and a scarlet blush traveled up your face as you couldn’t help but imagine what he was capable of. “Jin…?” You asked again, taking a step toward him.

As you do so, he blinks and shakes his head. When he looked at you again, his expression was once again as kind and friendly as it had been before. “Sorry.” He said “Got a little lost in thought there. That was amazing, where did you learn to dance like that?”

“I’ve been practicing my whole life,” You said. “I’d like to think I came out of my mother’s womb dancing.” You said with a chuckle.

A slightly uncomfortable silence hung in the air before you cleared your throat to speak again.

“Did you want to learn however much of that we can in…” you glanced at your watch “20 minutes?” You asked.

“Oh, sure!” He said. “It looks like fun.”

You walked over to the media player, setting the song’s tempo slower, and began the process of breaking down the dance, beat by beat. Sure enough, being the professional dancer he is, he is an extremely fast learner, never needing to go over the same part more than 3 or 4 times before he has it memorized. You watched him carefully, allowing yourself to be slightly more critical of him than you might be with a more inexperienced student.

“This part,” you demonstrated, rolling your body with practiced fluidity, “needs to be sexier, more fluid.”

“How is this?” He asked, his movements still stiff.

“Not quite.” You said. “Pardon my French, but pretend you’re… well…” you trailed off.

“Making love to someone.” He finished for you.

“Right.” You agreed.

“How about this?” He asked, a perceivable jerkiness still present.

“Hm.” You mused to yourself. “I think you aren’t using the right muscles. Give me your hand.”

He offered his hand to you, wordlessly.

You grabbed his hand, opened his palm up flat, and placed it on your stomach. The physical connection sent a strong zap through your body. Focusing on your breathing, you followed through, allowing him to feel the way your muscles were contracting as you did the movement. His expression was hard, unreadable.

“So… did you feel that?” You asked pulling his hand away.

“Yeah… I did,” he said, his voice far away and dry. “I definitely did.”

“So uh, you try now.” You said, feeling shy.

He did so without comment, and the visual of which causes something to tighten within you.

“Yeah, that looks a lot better.”

“Could you,” he began “Ah, never mind.” he cut himself off.

“Hm?” You ask “I probably don’t mind so ask away.”

“No, it sounds kinda pervy.” He said, looking down, ashamed.

“I don’t, uh…” You stammered, unsure how to process what he just said. Was this guy about to ask me to what, take my clothes off so he can see better?? What the hell?

“Oh god that made it sound really bad.” He blurted. “I just wanted you to feel to make sure I was also using the right muscle groups but that sounded kind of weird sorry!”

“Oh!” You laughed. “You should have said as much. That’s no problem.”

You walked closer to him, placing your flat hand on his abdomen. You noticed now, as your hand connected with his body, warm tingling spread through your hand. It felt good, you decided, but the unexpected sensation had you pulling back your arm in shock.

“Sorry. “I got zapped.” You lied.

Placing your hand back on his abdomen, through his t-shirt you could feel the hard, lean muscle. The warm, tingly sensation returned, and you watched and felt, mesmerized, as those hard muscles contracted and relaxed through the roll, resisting the urge to cross your legs to relieve some of the building pressure inside of you.

The proximity, the connection, it swirls through you and you find yourself transfixed, looking up at him. Your breathing is heavy, the current running through you, the haze swirling through your mind, and the tension and heat that was building in your core, it was almost too much to handle. You blinked up at him, his expression dark and unreadable. He looked down at you too, bringing a hand up, cupping your face gently. He searched your expression for a sign of protest, and when there was none, he dipped his head down, and soft, gentle lips met yours.

You immediately felt breathless, and everything inside you was screaming, chanting at you to keep going. Maybe it was the dizzy way he made you feel, but this all felt so undeniably right. The kiss deepened, your lips parting to one another as you excitedly and feverishly explored one another’s mouth. He didn’t seem to dare to take the next physically, but you needed him.

You ran your hands up his body and then around his neck, using the new position to press yourself flush to him. He moved his arms down, wrapping solidly around your waist. He backed you up slowly until your back was against the cool mirror of the studio. He pinned you there, placing his hands on each side of your head, against the glass. His arms flexed and relaxed with heavy practiced, restraint, as it took every fiber of his control not to rip your clothes off, take you, and mark you as his on this studio floor.

He pulled away, suddenly, taking 3 halting, jerky steps backward. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Wha…?” You ask, dazed and confused.

“I have to go.” He said, his voice serious and strained. In a flash, he was gone, with the sound of the front door closing behind him the only evidence he was ever really there.

In the complete silence, the heated haze that filled your mind subsided slowly, and your mind worked in overtime to process the series of events that had just happened to you. An achey feeling blooms in your chest and a different type of heat spreads to your face, embarrassment. What the fuck you thought to yourself, he probably thinks I’m some kind of crazed slut. You allowed yourself to sink to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest tight. What the fuck is his problem anyway, he kissed me first, you reasoned. Maybe I am just a god-awful kisser, you added bitterly. Maybe I took things too far. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Fuck uncomfortable, he started it! He pinned you against the wall, he absolutely loved it. Two parts of your mine argued back and forth. Whatever the case, sitting in your dim studio feeling bad for yourself didn’t bring you any closer or make you any happier, so you resolved to pick yourself up and bring yourself home.

You jammed your keys into the keyhole of your front door, unlocking it and entering your quiet apartment in a numb, dissociative daze. If you gave yourself 100,000 guesses this morning to guess as to how your day would end, you still wouldn’t have guessed you’d find yourself in the position you were in. Sleep tonight would be impossible, you decided. You made your way to your bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, grabbing one of the large, brown, glass bottles inside, shaking it tentatively. The last of the medicine you sighed inwardly, shaking the last two tightly-bundled, pill-sized leaf preparations from the bottle. When the nightmares would keep you awake, Dad would bring you two of these with a glass of warm, cinnamon-spiced apple cider. “These will help you sleep,” He said, handing you the pills. “And this,” he continued, “is full of spices to keep the monsters away.” Handing you the mug of hot, fragrant liquid.

“Like what?” You asked, voice still trembling from crying.

“Cinnamon.” He told you, climbing into bed next to you.

“Monsters don’t like cinnamon?” you asked, putting the bitter pills on your tongue, swallowing quickly.

“Can’t stand it,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around you, holding you close to his side. The contact is comforting. “One sniff of it and they go running for the hills!”

You giggled at that. “It must suck to be a monster, then.” You decided.

“Most definitely.” Dad agreed.

The memory was bittersweet. You swallow the bitter preparations, speed through your evening routine, and slip in between your sheets, already feeling the drowsy effects blossom through your body and mind. With the last of your cognition, you grabbed your phone, sending a mass email. You needed a break.

Dear students and families,

I have come down with something and as such, I will be suspending all classes for tomorrow. The following day, however, classes will return as scheduled. Thank you for your understanding.

Best,

Teacher Y/N

You hit send, and allow your eyes to close, sending you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I can’t get through,” Namjoon said, eyes closed, eyebrows knit together with concentration.

“Should we go up to her place?” Taehyung asked, looking at the older man, concerned.

“No,” Jin said, voice stern. “We have done plenty.”

“We?” Jungkook snorted. “Hyung, last time I checked it was you who planted one on her, not us.”

Jin shot him a dirty look. “If we had sent you, you would have lost control 30 seconds into being there and we would be having a much different conversation right now.”

Yoongi walked over to Jin, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “You are completely sure?” Yoongi asked, his tone flat, measured.

“As I have said 100 times over, yes,” Jin said, pushing down the growing irritation in his voice. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault he had gone too far. The way you looked up at him, the feeling of your hand on his body after he had just touched you, watched you move, he couldn’t help himself. He only hoped now that you felt the same way.

“She could have taken something and that’s why you can’t reach her, right Namjoon-hung?” Jimin asked, running his fingers absentmindedly through the older’s hair.

“Mmm.” He grunted in affirmation. “She could also have a talisman or a barrier spell preventing me from getting in.”

“So she’s probably fine,” Jimin said, voice calm.

“Probably.” Namjoon agreed, sighing and allowing himself to slump fully onto Jimin, looking for comfort.

“Well,” Hoseok chimed in. “Feeling bad or anxious isn’t particularly productive. Jinnie-hyung took things farther than he intended, but it sounds to me like she was probably okay with it. What probably freaked her out was you up and leaving without so much as an explanation like an antisocial weirdo. That would cause anyone to overthink.”

“He’s got a point,” Yoongi said, his arms now draped over Jin’s shoulders, holding him in a back hug.

“I know,” Jin said with a sigh. “If I could go back and do it differently, I would. But don’t you think by blocking us out she probably wants to be left alone?”

“How would she know Joonie-hyung’s powers?” Jungkook said. An obvious question, perhaps, but a brief silence settles over the group. It is a good point.

“The way I see it, we tell her or we don’t, and we need to decide which pretty quickly,” Hoseok said.

“I would want to know if I were her,” Taehyung said.

“Me too,” The group agreed.

“So we offer a connection,” Yoongi began. “Contact her, apologize for being a weirdo, offer to meet up and explain some things.”

Jin flinched at the weirdo comment. “Let her decide,” He said, “It’s not a bad idea.”

“Then let's do it,” Taehyung said anxiously. “I hope she says yes.”

“We all do,” Jimin said, grimly. “But now, we wait.”

#bts #bangtan #suga x reader #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jin x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader smut #namjoon x reader #ot7 x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7xreader #bts smut #intertwined #intertwined part 2

90 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 2 years ago

Text

Tease

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Eddie finally texts you but like, at what cost?

A/N: More fboy!Eddie, I guess I'm turning this into a series? I don't know. Here's Dangerous, essentially part 1.

Warnings: Sex, minor alcohol use, same douchebaggery from Reader and Eddie 18+ NSFW Minors gtfo please

He won’t tell you anything, just asks for your address. You debate for a while, milling around your apartment, digging through your sparse fridge. It’s been two weeks since Rick’s basement and you won’t lie to yourself, you’ve been waiting to hear from Eddie. You’d gotten his number from Steve so you could give him a stupid little nickname that would pop up when he eventually texted. Every day you’d look at your home screen and sift through a hundred tiktok’s from Lisa, looking for the little bat emoji you’d assigned him. Every day you wouldn’t be the first to text.

Apparently 10 minutes is too long and he double texts you ‘address??’. You send it, asking again where you’re going. He just reminds you that you’ve got an hour.

Glancing at the time you sigh, undoing the comfort you’d sunk into after work. He better make it worth it, these were dryer warm joggers.

Its a nice night, a little warm still but since you have no idea what you’re doing or where you’re going, you pull your hair back into a long braid to save time. Finding an outfit had taken most of the hour but you’d remembered the baby pink dress you hadn’t worn yet. Another pair of ankle heels, nude and strappy, and all your gold. Expensive armor dainty and glittering along your ears and across your fingers, single thin rope laying on the high collar of the dress.

‘Here’

Flicking open the blinds in your bedroom to look down at the parking lot, there’s a black challenger idling outside your building with a faint puff of smoke from the drivers window.

‘My chariot awaits’

You take the steps slow while you shove your card and ID into your phone case, keys clutched against the screen. Your new set makes it hard to push the case back on the corner of the phone and you pause, struggling. The sound of a window rolling down and Eddie’s voice echos off the side of your building.

“You good?” He sucks on one of those dumb little vapes and your sure his car smells like fake strawberries from it.

“Oh I am now.” You smirk, looking at him from under your brows. A slow approach to his car and when you stop at his door you bend at the waist to look in at him. Yeah, fake strawberry. “Well don’t you look handsome.” You reach in and pull on a damp curl. He’s got a black button up on, sleeves rolled to his elbows and top three buttons undone. That thin chain just hidden under his collar.

“Get in.”

“Hello to you too.” The curl bounces back against his face and you walk around the front of his car so he has to watch you look soft in your tight dress.

The car is low but you slide in like you’ve done it a thousand times. You drop your keys in his cup holder and reach for your seatbelt, looking over at him.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Honestly you’re a little annoyed. You thought he was maybe being cute about it, would tell you once you got in the car but he just smiles quick at you and pulls out of your complex. “Seriously Eddie.”

“A bar.”

“Sure. Where.”

“Over in Elwood.”

“…that’s 45 minutes away.” He just frowns, not taking his eyes off the road. “I’m gonna get out at the next red light if you don’t tell me where you’re taking me.” You say that with some finality.

You know that Eddie isn’t dangerous like some of the other guys. He’s a little mean sure, a little standoffish. Holds his own normally if anyone feels the need to test his limits but you aren’t worried about him doing anything violent or weird. You’re just pissed because you got out of your pajamas and painted on a new face for him to just shrug at you. The approaching light turns yellow and he guns it. You have to laugh.

“I need to go pick something up and if I go by myself it’ll look strange.” Another hit off his vape.

“Why me?”

“Why not?” He does look at you then, eyebrows raised and a grin that shows a glint of his teeth.

Dick.

“Did I draw the short straw?”

“You just know how to handle yourself better than the others.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think you’d be hanging around Lisa and her bunch if you didn’t.”

“I work with Lisa, we bartend.” You cross your arms and turn to face him better. “I’m not sure what you’re implying Eddie.”

“I asked around. You and her keep the girls outta trouble right?”

“You asked around.” You avoid his question and he avoids you, doesn’t even react.

“I know you’re not fucking Rick, I would’ve had a bad night otherwise.” He shoots you another look and his hand flexes on the steering wheel, rings glinting under the passing street lamps.

“What are you getting at?”

“You seem to stay out of most trouble, you’re good at keeping the peace and if shit does go wrong you’re good at keeping it from going nuclear.” He’s ticking fingers down on his other hand while he lists off your qualifications. “Good to have around just in case.”

“So the phenomenal head doesn’t factor into that at all?”

He laughs from deep in his chest and you’re proud of yourself for getting that much. “You did some homework.”

“Well I try not to stick my dick in crazy.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m crazy.”

“No, you are dangerous though.” There’s that word again. He used it the other day and you played along but you’re not sure what he means really. If you’re dangerous then what is he? Eddie exists at the edges of parties and the corners of Rick’s business and has somehow stayed on a pedestal amongst everyone. You know from Steve, who is another fringe member of this whole organization, that Dealer Eddie and Everywhere Else Eddie are two separate people, diametrically opposed. If he can have secrets, why can’t you?

“What’s so dangerous about me, huh?” You lean over on the center console and prop your chin on your hand to stare at the side of his face. Your other hand lands across his thigh where you catch your nail on a rip in his jeans. Wedge your finger under the fabric and scratch at him just a little. He glances down at your hand.

“You don’t know?”

“No.” A heavy drag up his thigh to his zipper. He’s not even half hard, you didn’t expect him to be, but a little participation would be nice. “I want you to tell me.” He clears his throat, the only indication he’s maybe paying attention. “C’mon Eddie, tell me what it is that makes me so scary.”

He’s driving a little faster now, the gps on screen says 10 minute arrival time. More than enough time to wind him up and set him loose in a strange bar. He’s apparently shy all of a sudden because he isn’t talking again. Keeping his eyes directly on the road like a good driver so you pull yourself into his space, nails digging into the inside of this thigh where you use him for leverage. His hair is soft when you brush it back to tuck behind his ear. You run a nail lightly down from his ear to his collar, pulling it back intending on sinking your teeth into his neck when you see someone else has apparently had that idea.

“Whose handiwork is this Vlad?” You whisper close. He just huffs and shrugs a little, trying to get you to let his shirt go. “Let me guess.” Lips brush the shell of his ear and you watch a cascade of goosebumps go down his skin under his shirt.

Oh he is paying attention.

“Was it Dani? Maybe Kim, she’s got a big mouth.” You bite his earlobe and he sighs like he’s annoyed. “Someone I don’t know? How many girls do you drive around anyways?”

“Do you care?”

Honestly? No, but this hickey is mocking you just by being there first.

When you sink your teeth in it’s probably a little harder than needed. It makes Eddie jump, pulling the steering wheel and jerking the car.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He’s harsh but doesn’t pull out of your grip, doesn’t slap your hands away or shove you back over into your seat. In fact, you can feel his interest growing under your hand planted on his jeans.

“Same thing wrong with you I think.”

It’s only an exit and a few more turns until you get to your bar. You’re practically crawling into the driver seat with him by the time he parks. Chest pressed into his shoulder, holding his neck against your mouth where you’ve doubled the size of his stupid fuckin’ hickey.

Eddie had played aloof with you the other night while making you work for it. Tonight you’d barely made a move past palming him through his jeans and he’s trying to unbutton his pants for you.

“What are you doing?” You pull back from his neck to watch him fumble with his button. When you glance up at his face you have to bite your lip to hide your laugh. He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, like you’re the one not understanding this situation. You pull your hand off his dick to tap your nail on the time display. “I thought you had an appointment?” Pouting seems to make him mad.

Good

“You gave me one hour to put myself back together and I’m not gonna let you be late for this little rendezvous.” You gesture outside his windshield at the cinder block bar in front of you. He looks like murder and you scrunch up your nose up at him. “Maybe if you can get me home before 2 I’ll treat you nice.” You fall back into your seat, rearranging your dress and grabbing your phone before stepping out of his car. You lean down to look at him expectantly. “We doing this or what?”

“This.” He points at you, mean smile on his face. “This is what I mean.”

“What, fondling you in the car? Come on, if that’s the worst thing you can think of…”

“You fucking tease people-“ You cut him off by slamming his door. He shoots out, rounding around the front of his car to get in your face, effectively pinning you against the door.

“Don’t slam my fucking door.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” You’ve got a little taste for a fight, maybe because you aren’t on your home turf. You don’t have to worry about other drunk assholes you know that might need you to intervene. Maybe you can be the asshole tonight. “Hmm?” You hook your fingers in his belt loops and pull yourself flush against him, can feel that he’s still hard even with all this frustration. His expression softens just a tad, realization washing over his face. He rubs his jaw and huffs a laugh at you. You just want a rise out of him.

“I’m not doing this right now. We’re gonna go inside and you’re gonna behave.” He looks you straight on. “Please.” You roll your eyes but let his jeans go, nod your head once and huff right back at him. “Thank you.” He heads back around to turn his car off and close the door, motioning for you to follow him when he heads for the front. You debate standing out in this parking lot till he comes back, leaned against his car and moody but he whistles, the sharp sound echoing off the building and you roll your eyes again.

“I’m not a dog.” You scowl at him and start trying to pry your phone case off to get your ID. He watches, amused for a moment before snatching your phone out of your hand and pulling out your ID to hand to the bouncer.

“No, they listen better.”

“Dick.” Holding your hand out you expect him to just drop your stuff in your hand but it puts your phone back together again.

“Don’t break a nail.”

Eddie didn’t actually need you along, that much is clear. Once you two get in he stands close behind you until some guy that you’ve maybe seen before comes over. Before Eddie walks away he grabs your elbow to get you to look at him.

“Be nice.”

“I’m so nice Eddie.” You lean into his touch, batting your lashes at him. He just gives you that detached stare you’re getting used to.

He isn’t gone for long but it’s enough for you to start a game of pool by yourself and get a drink. The bar is a little shoddy but it’s busier than you thought it would be. The room you’ve ended up in has four tables and a handful of groups with no one paying you any mind, even if you are overdressed for this place.

You’ve sunk half the solids when you feel a hand on your hip while you’re bent over the corner of the table and you whip around, cue clutched in your hand like a weapon. Eddie immediately backs up, hands held up in front of himself.

“Whoa Rambo, sorry.”

“Announce yourself, Jesus.”

“You were really gonna hit me weren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You lean back down to finish your shot.

“You beat a lot of guys up in pool halls?” He cocks his hip into the table, watches you sink two more balls. “You’re good at this.”

“Thank you, and no, not in pool halls.” You sigh at him. “But I have laid hands on a few men, why? Do I need to lay hands on you?”

Eddie chuckles, “Uh, no. I’m not really into slapping girls around.”

“You coulda fooled me earlier.”

He holds his hand out for the pool cue and you hand it over. He lays down against the table to get at a striped ball and you follow the long line of him draped over the felt. His all black is stark against the bright green, his hair falling forward where he’s trying to blow it out of the way. You pull the curls back with your index finger and he sinks one in a corner pocket. “Thanks.”

“How do you know I’m beating up guys?”

“It’s what Lisa’s gone to court over a few times. Doesn’t take a genius.”

Fair. You nod at him and finish your drink, dropping the glass at an empty table. “You all done?”

“We can finish your game.”

You want to be funny and ask which one. That spark of fight you had earlier has been petering out, the last half hour spent alone just reminding you of your joggers at home.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then I want to finish it.” He walks to the other side of the table to eye a shot. “You want another drink?” He’s in a better mood so something went right, and he didn’t even need you. You tell him as much and he stands back up from where he was taking a shot.

“I needed you just in case, okay?” He shrugs at you.

“Oh you know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Jesus christ.” He rubs a hand down his face and stares up at the ceiling, pool cue propped in front of him.

You barely know him, really just what everyone else has said. You’ve heard it all from Steve and from Kim and from Dani. Heard it through parties and from Lisa when you’re both at Rick’s. Everyone either wants to fuck him or they’re singing his praises. You’ve watched him cruise through spaces with new girls on his arm all the time, watched him look uninterested and unflappable and unconcerned and maybe you wanted to get under his pretty skin. Make him a little concerned.

“I thought you might cool off out here by yourself.” He walks around the table to lean on it, across from where you’ve propped yourself against the wall.

“Well I did and then you showed back up.” You give him your best bedroom eyes. Run your tongue ring light against your teeth so he can see it glint, hear it clink before your pull it back in. “So this is all on you big guy.”

“Big guy.”

“Don’t like nicknames?” You push off the wall to stroll the three feet over to him, hands tucked behind your back. “I don’t mind them, but then again I usually get the mean ones.” You stop, toe to toe with his boots. He isn’t moving or sighing or rolling his eyes, just braced against the edge of the table watching you like a hawk. You lean down to whisper close to his cheek, “Jokes on them, I like those the best.” There’s that little curl of the corner of his mouth again, like he’s trying to hide his smile from you. “You can laugh, I know I’m funny.” There’s a perfect ringlet laying against the open collar of his shirt that you’ve been staring at. You wind it around your index finger and bring your other hand to rest on his thigh. “It’s only midnight, you can still get me home on time, win that big prize.” The curl springs off your finger. “Or we can just fuck in your backseat, I’m sure there’s enough room for what, five minutes of bliss?”

The backseat of a Dodge Challenger is but a mere suggestion. You realize this only after Eddie has shoved you in behind the driver seat and folded himself in after you. His long legs tangled until he finally sits back and yanks you over his lap, pulling the heel of your shoe to help swing your knee over. Your dress is already short and with your knees splayed wide it slides right up to your hips, giving Eddie all the space to run his hands up your thighs. The roof is low so you have to stay close to him, hands gripped tight in his hair to pull him against the back dash and hold him in place while you kiss him hard. He groans when you shove your tongue in his mouth and grind down into his lap, his fingers sliding up under your thighs to grip, brushing over your thong before he breaks the kiss.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” You pull his hair harder and he shoves his fingers into your underwear.

“Are you seriously this wet? Over what, our little fight?” He’s mocking you, eyes shining in the dim light filtering through his heavy tint. You scoff and pull away so you can attack his neck again, the hiss he lets out accompanied by the painful grip he has on the cuff of your ass. You hate that it pulls a whine out of you while you’ve got your teeth in him, knows he can feel it against his bruised skin when he moves his fingers further up, teasing at your hole.

“Fuck.”

He takes your momentary lapse to pull at your braid, wrapping it around his fist twice so he can pull your head back. Your nose is pushed up against the roof and all you can do is look down at him, your hands still locked in his hair. He pulls your thong to the side, runs his thumb up the cleft of your ass to fully move it and you gasp into the headliner. His fingers slide through your pussy, pressing in at your entrance until he feels you clenching. “Oh you want it bad don’t you?” His voice is dark but you can make out the little pants between words. “I bet you’ve been waiting every day for me to text you huh?” He slowly slides his finger in and you cant your hips down to try to speed him up. “Is that why you tried to start a fight earlier?” He tilts your head back further and pumps his hand a few times before adding another finger, leans up to lick a stripe up to your chin. “Did you want me to fuck you over the pool table? Right in front of everybody, you could have really shown off tonight.” Your jaw hangs when picks up his pace, thick fingers dragging against your walls when you tighten around him. “Is this how I get you to shut up?” He moves his fingers against that soft spot and you laugh between gasps because he’s still on that?

“If you want me to shut up you can just do it yourself.”

He pulls his hand away from you, leaving you clenching after nothing, and you feel him bucking around under you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him toss his wallet and then hear his zipper. The crinkle of a foil wrapper and you make a face he can’t see.

“Aw, you don’t trust me? I’m on the pill.” You can feel him pulling at his jeans and his cock bumps you, hot against your inner thigh.

“No.” He lines himself up and pulls you down till you’re seated fully against him, leans his head into your chest with a groan, hand gripping your thigh to hold you still for a moment. Your happy he can’t see your face, eyes squeezed shut and lip stuck between your teeth. He’s thick, stretches you enough that you’re fluttering around him but you don’t want to give him anymore satisfaction other than what he can feel. You let your hands drop so you can brace yourself on his knees, so you can roll your hips down into him.

“Oh fuck keep doing that.” He’s still buried in your chest, mouthing at your tit through your very nice dress, moaning against you and really he’s making it too easy.

“I know, that feels good doesn’t it?” You whine at him. “Talk a big game Munson, I’m the star fucking ath-“ He lets go of your hair and grabs your face, big palm covering your mouth to finally shut you up. Muffled, coming out around his hand in wet bursts, you laugh.

“Want me to shut y’up, I’ll shut y’up.” He slides down lower in the seat and bounces you forward, holds your hip steady and starts pounding up into you. It punches the air out of your lungs along with any more shit talk you had left. The stretch of his cock burns, hurts a little where he’s hitting you over and over inside but you bite his fingers when rubs his thumb over your ignored clit.

“All you do is run y’fuckin’ mouth.” He’s keeping up his pace, bullying in to you and you’re whining behind his hand, grabbing at his shirt to try to keep yourself steady. “Don’t know when t’shut the fuck-“ You’re close and you bear down on him pushing your hips into his hand, chasing that heat growing low. A groan crawls out of your chest when he hits just right and you fall into him, hand sliding up around his neck to hang on, riding out your high. His hips stutter and he pulls you down, holding you tight to him when he comes, breathing heavy into your throat.

You’re the first to move, peeling your hand away from his shirt and catching a glimpse of a tattoo near his collarbone.

“Is that a D20?”

“What?” Eddie has his eyes closed and head back, catching his breath while you prod around in his shirt.

“Your tattoo.” You poke it and he looks down, frowning.

“Oh, yeah.” His breath catches when you sit up and he slips out, watches you pretzel yourself to get into the front seat without getting out of the car. “DnD shit.”

You’re pulling your clothes back into place, looking around for your phone. “I took you for a Warhammer guy.”

Eddie stops putting himself away to stare at the back of your head. “What do you know about Warhammer?” You don’t turn, just hold up your phone so he can see your background, big lady in big armor.

“Sister of Battle.”

Eddie doesn’t have time for this, he can feel the urge to start asking questions but he tamps it down, just wants to get you home so he can also go home. Wants to take a shower. Wants to go to bed. You are utterly tiring in a hundred different ways that he doesn’t care to examine right now.

Halfway back to Hawkins he stops at a McDonalds because you want a milkshake and he doesn’t want to argue. In the drive thru he catches a glance at his neck in the rear view.

He almost opens his mouth to say something but again, he’s not starting shit with you at 1:30 in the morning, not when you’ve been quiet and humming along to the radio, mindlessly scrolling your phone.

You look up when he pulls into a spot at your apartment. “Well this was great, though I don’t expect any purses from this.” You snatch your keys and your milkshake and get out, coming around to lean down at his door. “You know Dani won’t tell any of us what she did for that bag. I’m kind of afraid to ask what kind of depraved shit you two are getting up to.”

“Well, if she’s not talking I’m not.” Eddie is quiet, tries to take a pull off his vape and it’s dead. He was hoping he could cover up your perfume with that sugar vapor. You just hum and wink at him. “Thanks for the milkshake Eddie.” You finally start walking away and he catches two red marks on your thigh peaking out from the hem of your dress. You twist back to wave at him before climbing the stairs.

“Call me, Vlad. This was fun.”

#Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fic #My Work #My Fic #4K bay bee

189 notes · View notes

dishushu · 2 years ago

Text

i remember it, all too well.

42!miles g morales x reader

summary: you've been dating someone for a year and slowly you realize they've become distant. barely texting you, not showing any admiration, always out clubbing. until you went to their place and see something unspeakably wrong, you snap and they try to come back to you. months later, still broken. you met miles and you two become very close. one day you see them again and you can remember the memories all too well.

warnings: super angst (fluff in the end of COURSE) cursing, bad spanish (i’m so sorry y’all😭) creepy ex bro, cheating.

a/n: WHOOP i started listening to atwtmv for like a 100 times and it gave me the idea to write this (all hail taylor swift!!) this is gonna be so angsty i swear like im so sorry yall 😭 but lemme tell y’all i swear 42 miles has rizz i’m not lying

words: 2.2k

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

your life was pretty fine the past few months since you’ve met your partner.

they were, everything you wanted. they loved you to the moon and back and you said the same thing too.

but a year passed and things started to change, drastically.

they stopped paying attention to you, stopped hanging out with you, was always on their phone and most of all, always went clubbing.

you’d be at your place and it was around 12:45 in the morning, he was supposed to come by.

the first thing that came up to your mind was text him, they were probably busy anyway?

…..

love<3

12:46 am

y/n: babe, wru? you were supposed to come to my place an hour ago.

seen 12:48 am.

y/n : hello?

seen 12:50 am.

……

you sighed, tossing your phone to the side of the bed as u curled up in ball, thinking why they left you on seen.

you decided to go check up on them yourself, so you put your shoes on and walked over to his apartment.

you knocked on their door, seemingly waiting for an answer, there was none.

so you opened the door which was seemingly unlocked, and scanned around the room, calling out their name.

when you heard loud music from his room.

you knocked but there was no answer as you thought the music was drowning your knock so you opened it.

and oh boy were you in for a surprise.

you dropped your purse on the floor as you stood there as if you saw a ghost, but instead you saw them making out with someone else.

“so that’s how shits going huh.” you said bluntly with tears in your eyes as your words jolted both of them up and your partner turned to look at you.

“it’s not what it seems like bab-“ they were protesting, pushing the other person away and walking to you but you cut them off and pushed them away.

“there’s nothing to fucking explain!” you screamed. “its all right infront of me, dont even bother.” you said as the tears flowed out of your eyes, looking away.

“please love im sorry i- just- give me another chance” they tried to grab your hands and you pulled away quickly.

“so you just can call me up again just to break me like a fucking promise huh? i expected better from you.” my voice cracked at every word as i walked away and slammed the door shut.

i was home, on the floor. in a ball of sadness. tears, snot, everything flowing out. while they kept texting me.

…..

unknown number.

1:15 am

un: babe please

un: please im sorry

un: i won’t do it again

un: forgive me

seen 1:20 am.

…..

you knew damn well he was lying so you blocked the number, shutting off your phone and sliding it across the room.

that day, your whole heart broke, you never felt anything anymore, love was completely just a game to you

but do you think everything will change soon?

it was your usual day. wake up, get ready for work, walk, get to work and actually work.

you worked at the cashier in some convenience store.

you’d felt numb and dull the past few weeks and didn’t really have the motivation to do anything, but you had to so you did. but you just remember everything all too well.

you were doing your job as normal and nothing around changed honestly, it was just your average normal day until someone came in that caught your eye.

it was a boy about your age, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweater, the way his jawline stands out and his braids touching his shoulders.

you thought he was cute but you shook off your feelings and went on with your day.

you noticed he was catching a few glances from you, you thought of it as nothing when he paid normally and went out the store.

but he kept coming back to the store every single day for the whole week and you two start to talk a bit more, but not your actual huge conversations.

but this one time. he was in the store picking up a few stuff and bringing it to the counter.

you scanned the items as you put it in a paper bag,

“15.44.” you told him the price.

“keep the change.” he said giving you a 20 and his spanish accent had you rolling on the floor (metaphorically).

you mumbled a thank you as he walked out, you were going to put the 20 in the cash box but suddenly, you saw a note attached to it.

* xxx-xxx-xxxx, my number. text me soon hermosa. - miles:) *

you were shocked to the brim as u held the paper in hand profusely blushing as you started to smile a bit.

did a guy just really give his number out to you?

you kept the note in your pocket, still blushing and went on with your day. until you came back home

you held the note in your hand again, still contemplating if you should put the number in your phone.

you did it anyway.

as you shakily typed the number in your phone, you added his name in the contact number and pressed the message button.

…..

miles(?)

10:05 pm.

y/n: hello?

*minutes pass by and you were doubting a message back from him. but your phone dinged.*

miles(?): hey

*you were shaking in your bed as you saw his reply.*

y/n: you’re miles right?, the guy from the store?

miles(?): the one and only. miles(?): and you’re…?

y/n: sorry.. i’m y/n

miles(?): nice name ;)

*at that point you were shocked by the little winky face he put*

y/n: the same goes to you :)) y/n: so.. weird question but why’d you give me your number?

miles(?): just thought you were cute.

*his reply literally had you in shambles and you didn’t know what to reply with but it hit you. it could be your ex’s friend again trying to get on you for breaking up with them.*

y/n: are u sure? because i swear to god if you’re one of my ex’s friends trying to shit on me for breaking up w them i will literally murder you.

miles(?): i swear, i don’t know who your ex is. but are you okay though?

*i sighed in relief, knowing that they stopped doing it.*

y/n: yeah, sorry i’m just paranoid. y/n: i gotta go, talk to you soon?

miles(?): alright, see ya soon hermosa.

……

you closed your phone and start to smile, but it feels like everything that went down happened was only yesterday, time won’t fly for you. it’s like your paralyzed in your own heartbreak.

you lay down in your bed, thoughts drowning in you as you start to fall asleep.

days turn to weeks and you and miles start to become closer friends. and you wouldn’t deny to admit that you liked him, ALOT.

but you never told him. you were scared of commitment ever since it happened.

you never told him, you never bothered to say anything because he never asked you and you were fine with it. until one day.

you both were on the rooftop at his place laughing about anything and everything, talking about what happens.

until he asks a question.

“so, that day, the day you first messaged me about your ex’s friends shitting on you for what happened, whyd you think i was one of them?” he looked at the stars slyly, glancing at you at times.

“well.” you sighed, fiddling around with your fingers,

“i didn’t know who his friends were, so they would come around at work, giving me their number and i would text them obviously and they would always tell me i was cute or something but the next second they just shit on me saying mean stuff and i kinda just couldn’t trust anyone after that.”

he looks back down to look at you , with an apologetic look on his face, when he went to scoot a bit closer to you.

“can i ask what happened?” he asked as his hand was slightly touching yours as you looked at the stars.

“we were happy for a year, everything was fine but they grew distant. they stopped talking to me and always went to clubs and came back home drunk. they seemed off for so long and i went to their place and saw them making out with someone else and i just kinda lost it, because they did this twice and i lost my shit at that point, i haven’t felt love ever since. i just kinda lost motivation, i really want my old self but i just can’t seem to find it.” tears filled your eyes to the brim as i told him everything.

as the tears start to flow out, he hugged you tightly and rubbed your back. “lo siento mucho querida.” he whispered.

“you did nothing wrong okay? it was all them.” he hugged you tighter.

as he pulled back from the hug, wiping the tears from your eyes.

it was silent for a moment after he pulled away.

“i could change that.” he spoke up after the brief silence that filled between us.

you locked at him surprised, “what.. do you mean?”

“you said.. you would never feel love again right..?” his words were soft when he spoke.

you nodded slowly as you turn to look at him looking at the stars.

“well, i could change that.” his head lowered down to look at you but you looked away.

“how will i know you end up the same as they did?” you looked down looking at your knees when you felt his hand grab your chin and pull you in closer for a kiss.

you were shocked at first but then you slowly melt in to the kiss, finally realizing he was the one.

as he pulled away, he held your hand tightly. “i promise i won’t break your heart mi amor.” he whispered. "ill give you the world, the stars if possible, anything for you."

you felt this wave of love you’ve never felt before and it made you feel full, you went to hug him tightly as you never wanted to pull back

“i love you, miles.”

“te quiero también, mi amor. más de lo que sabes.”

after that day, you and miles started dating and it was nothing like you experienced before.

it was always flowers here, flowers there and he was just a straight up gentleman to you.

you just closed up your shop early tonight to go on your first date with miles, and when you both were walking there, you bumped into someone and both crash to the ground.

“oh my god im so sorr-“ you were frantically picking up their stuff to give it back and when you both look at eachother, you stopped talking. it was your ex.

everything, every single memory of you both flowed down your mind and you remembered it all too well.

“amor are you okay?” miles bent down to check on you when he noticed you giving a dirty glance at your ex, and it hit him.

“yeah i’m fine let’s just go.” you tried to stand up but your ex’s hand pulled you back down and restraining you from standing up.

“what the fuck do you want?” you screamed and it grabbed miles attention.

“please, im sorry i didn’t mean it can things just go back the way it was?” he protested and was on their knees begging you to stay

i pulled my hand out of his grip as we both stood up “i already told you, a million fucking times, no.”

“please i’m sorry, i- i was drunk and i wasn’t thinking straight.”

“so you’re telling me, those both times you were drunk and you weren’t thinking straight? those both times you fucking cheated on me and you weren’t thinking straight? you choosing pleasure over our goddamn relationship and you weren’t thinking straight? you could’ve thought for a SINGLE moment, will this affect my relationship? of course it fucking will you asshole. get out of my sight.” you stood back up and walked opposite where your ex was, but they wouldn’t stop and grabbed your hand again.

“just forgive me plea-“ he was about to get on his knees but miles stood infront of you and grabbed their arm tightly so they could release your arm

“back up bro, y/n already told you they don’t want you. don’t make it harder for us. one step closer and you’re gone got it?” miles let go of his hand as a warning and they nodded and ran away and miles turned to you.

“are you okay querida? you aren’t hurt anywhere are you?” he put his arms on your shoulders, scanning your body for any wounds.

“i’m okay, just a bit shaken up." you sighed, fixing your clothes.

miles was genuinely worried about you and you told him everything's fine as long he was with you.

"i'm so sorry amor that they keep doing that to you." he grabbed yout waist and pulled you in a hug.

"you know ill protect you always right?" he pulled away from the hug.

"promise?" you held out your pinky for a pinky promise and smiled softly.

"promise querida." he took his pinky and hooked it with yours and shook it softly and pulled you in another hug.

although you still remember all the heartbreaking memories all too well, you had him and that was enough for you.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission.

#angst #fluff #hearts4hobie #across the spider verse #astv x reader #miles 42 #miles morales prowler #miles morales 42 x reader #miles g morales #miles morales 42 #CRYING #ilovehimsomuchudontunderstand #astv #spidermanacrossthespiderverse #miles my beloved

90 notes · View notes

watchtheblog · 5 months ago

Text

Cutting Slack

hello to the hierarchy of my besties: irl besties, internet besties, fantasy besties; the hierarchy of my haters: just the three of you, followed by someone who goes by the alias k.s on google reviews; an ever dwindling number of exes who can read, a handful of people i’m just getting to know who are about to know me too well too fast, and anyone else who has stumbled upon this highly specific page on the internet!!

if you’ve been here before, you know the deal. i’m going to weave a web of little jokes into a somewhat coherent story and then as a reward for knowing me you get the opportunity to see 20 things i hope to receive for my birthday, which, i hope you know… is tomorrow (26 september); i’m turning 94.

The joke web:

In february 2023 after the company I co-created sold to one of the corniest companies on the planet, I quit because they wanted me to set forth eight hours a day I would be available to do work. Seven years into a job I’d put 8 hours a year into, this was a startling task.

Also, they wanted me to become a member of slack, or get on slack, or write to them in slack. Or do something, whatever one does, on slack. You can do a lot of things to me, but what you’re not gonna do is make me go on slack. Many have tried in the past and not a one has ever succeeded.

Not to sound like Mark Cuban - or myself in [redacted] years - but an 8 hour workday was not for me. And I explained this. I told a woman alleging to be my supervisor that every morning I woke up, I did cult for 20 minutes, wrote in my journal for 45 minutes, went for a 1 hour walk, came home, showered, drank a little poison, read for one hour in my garden, did some dilly dallying on the internet, and then I went to an appointment*, and by the time I was done with all of that it was already 4pm and that’s wind down time in my culture.

Where did she want me to find 8 hours?!

(*i realize appointment time is not a thing (everyone can understand) but I’m gonna have to save it for another post. appointment time is sacred in a directionless little bug’s life and it deserves to be explained properly.)

If you think I’m joking that I laid out this schedule to a woman who was born inside a human resources complaint folder and whose dearly departed soul resides within a ludicrously capacious bag somewhere, I beg you to get to know me better.

Fundamentally, she did not understand and spiritually I was not the messenger to enlighten her, so I decided to quit.

I am impulsive by nature but this decision was incredibly thought out. I wrote down a list of pros and cons and I titled the cons list “things I’m not aligned with” and I listed 11 things.

“I dont want to be managed!!!!!!” (this is a literal copy and paste) topped the chart.

To follow? “Corporate weirdness”, and, simply: “Slack”.

On the pros list I wrote: “Freedom”, “I will finally be free”. (LOL!) Underneath it, it says “Take a fucking risk.”

I sat with these lists for approximately three minutes, and then I wrote an email announcing my resignation. And then I quite literally never spoke to anyone there ever again.

This all leads me to one short pivot before we’ll arrive at our final destination of my birthday list.

When I mentioned earlier that I am impulsive by nature, I mean that I quit my job because someone said there was a question posed to me in Slack and I needed to answer it came to Ohio to visit my dad’s (RIP) childhood home and my (then) girlfriend convinced me to call the number on a commercial real estate building and within 45 days I’d signed a lease and 90 days later I had packed, driven, and moved my entire life across the country.

When I moved here, I knew no one so I did a lot of things you may think only people who are on reality dating shows do, like: go to an espresso martini making class, cook marshmallows over an open fire in a state park at night with strangers, slide down a snowy hill on a plastic saucer as an activity, or attend a local rat’s birthday party.*

*disclaimer for anyone here who doesn’t GET me bc I’m scared to be misunderstood: i loved all of these things I’m not mocking them; I’m simply holding a light to the absurdity of my *on the spectrum, agoraphobic weirdo* ass doing these things in earnest because i needed to not kms. ◡̈ kms stands for k*ll myself.*

(Of course all of these things on a reality dating show would involve two people, whereas in my case I did all of those things alone.)

As a treat for my efforts to be a member of society, the universe provided me with the unique gift of meeting the anthropomorphic version of my intrusive thoughts!!

We’ll call her Gloria (for no reason) and in our first phone conversation she had called everyone in the state of ohio “fat, lazy and bipolar” and told me my business would fail.

One minute after we hung up, she texted asking if I wanted to sauna with her right now. Now mind you, I’ve been doing shit “for the lore” since before it was called “lore” and men were just telling me I was insane (simpler times!!) so I grabbed a bikini and drove 9 minutes ready to go in a sauna with a random lady I’d never met.

And go in a sauna with a random lady I did... fully clothed for a reason that both confused and relieved me. In that sauna, Gloria repeated the aforementioned phone topics and added a pointed “nobody wants to work out; you will fail” while staring at me in a box heated to 130 degrees.

“It’s okay. Everything is always working out for me” I told her as she persisted in her negativity, because I lacked the ability to just tell her to shut the fuck up (and also because that is true).

I considered the possibility of her behavior coming from a good intentioned place, like when cars driving the opposite direction flash their lights to let you know they just passed a cop (as if that ever hits). I considered it was an act of humanity, one unstable woman to another; trying to save me from the hell she thought was inevitable given her own - self proclaimed - “failure”. (she had opened and closed a studio of her own.)

So I let her keep flashing her dumb lights at me, showing up to my studio uninvited in the middle of my buildout telling me I should see if my landlord would let me out of my lease, texting me little foreboding horror stories about the perils of being in the fitness industry, sending me local businesses that were closing as if to say “i told you so; i’m warning you.”

“You’ll see” she said multiple times, as if to predict my ultimate demise in a way I’d be able to reflect on in the future, remembering she’d warned me.

In those moments and in the months of desperation and grind leading up to the opening of my business I had no other choice but to move forward blindly, confidently. Long before I met this psychopath I had prepared for the possibility of failure. Unlike this woman, however, that preparation involved the potential of having to say “I failed… now what?” rather than “I failed. I’m the rule, not the exception. The journey is impossible.”

It’s been almost two years since I left the career I thought would define me, and while I certainly haven’t failed, I’m not writing this from the other side. I’m writing this from the beginning of a long journey I’m prepared and excited to be on that began the day I decided to take a fucking risk.

Two years ago I couldn’t find 8 hours a day to work and now somehow I’ve found 14-18…

and not a single one of them has been spent on slack.

The Gift Portion!!! the intangible: for the dismantling of nextdoor dot com, for all my bad memories to be erased, to win the war against seed oils, for the ai to stop(!!!), that the person who sullied my google reviews finds God and healing bc going against me is a form of psychosis, for great deals on this upcoming amazon prime day, that natalia grace is ok, that i never hear a telephone ring again, for watermelon to be in season all the time, that nobody is ever mad at me, that all eggs would turn to donuts in a way that would not have negative implications for chickens or negative repercussions for farmers, that everyone bounces back from whatever inevitable side effects ozempic will have, that my frequently used emoji are all safe and sound after getting rearranged, and for everyone I know and love to read the source by dr tara swart, and that they are all happy, healthy, successful, and in love forever.

the ones you can buy: these shoes (size 38) or these shoes (size 38) also these (and you guessed it! 38) i want to fix my brain here, a casual five day immersive neurofeedback experience this watch this large suitcase or this one i cant pick this gorgeana kind of urgently, this these shoes (great deal alert!!!!) (size 38) i think the trajectory of my life would change if i owed four of these and maybe some other things to go with it big year for shoes … huge a stunning linen spray this practical thing her this or something else from her(e) these, white, small also kind of urgently, these this definitely the max mara teddy coat in the absolute smallest size and this is the last time I’m gonna put it here!!!!!! ykto!!! (lol!!)

#My birthday #9/26; never forget #lists of things i want #birthday lists #things i want #things i want for my birthday #lists of things

7 notes · View notes

whentherewerebicycles · 1 year ago

Text

phew I got the tutoring job! huge relief, especially as I just narrowly avoided overdrawing my bank account when my rent payment went through 🫠 I still have about $1500 in medical bills to pay off in installments but I am sloooowly getting closer to being able to put money away again. I’m not sure I can really afford this weights class in the long term but I feel like gym classes are kind of on the same level as buying healthy food—both are expensive but they feel like justifiable expenses for health/well-being reasons. I’ll try out this two-month package I bought and see how I feel at the end of it.

okay let’s think about the day. I do want to go back and add two more slides to my slide deck (one definitions slide and one sample CS project, maybe the AI ethics or psych/CS one) then just quickly run through the whole thing, but I think it’s basically done. I also want to go for a 40 min walk since I won’t be home until after dark. let’s see how about this:

7-9 coffee, lounge, work emails

9-10 walk dogs

10-10:30 shower/get ready

10:30-11:15 add two additional slides, email slide deck to the professor, make breakfast and pack a late lunch?

11:15-11:45 get dressed but also hmm think a bit about this website stuff…

11:45ish drive into work

12:15-1 prep for website mtg + librarians mtg

1-1:30 class presentation

1:30-2 prep for librarians

2-2:30 meet with librarians

2:30-3:30 do a burst of work on rec letter? or finish website planning, review annual report

3:30-4 class presentation

4-6 scholars event

6-6:30 commute home (pick up Rx??)

stir fry leftovers for dinner, do some of these setup tasks for the tutoring job, read

#I’m also kind of annoyed with [redacted] for many reasons this week #one is that they rescheduled this talk last minute and moved it to a WFH day where I already had a bunch of meetings scheduled #and I had a conflict in the evening anyway so couldn’t have made it to campus and back in time #and she sends me a passive aggressive teams message being like wish you’d been able to make it…#would’ve been great to have you there….#and I’m just like. ok!#would’ve been great to have some advance notice rather than finding out the week of #there’s a second talk in the same series this week that was scheduled far in advance so I WAS able to block that one off #ugh whatever. I just hate passive aggressiveness. like it’s fine to be like #I expect you to consistently be there and I want you to prioritize it over other conflicts #(even if no one else in our office does)#but don’t act like it’s all totally optional come as you can and then send messages after being like we sure noticed you weren’t there

4 notes · View notes

nokingsonlyfooles · 1 year ago

Text

WTYP: The Shandor Building, Part 8

[Do you like the colour of the fanfic? This is long and if you expand it you're gonna get the whole thing, because Tumblr hates you. Don't say I didn't warn you!]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Part 8: Disaster Roulette: Horse Viscera

[Beware of strong language, mention of all kinds of death, gore, and Lovecraftian horror.]

[SLIDE: The Atmospheric Railway.]

D: Wow.

A: That smells amazing!

L: Is that pancakes? Is that pancakes or am I having a stroke?

R: It’s pancakes. On the little stove right here. Says it’s “The First Dining-Car-Powered Railway.”

D: So we have full access to any bullshit you made up during the episode?

R: Seems like it.

L: Is there syrup?

A: I don’t think we mentioned syrup…

D: Still! Pancakes and no imminent threat of death! Well done, lady and gents!

D [text over slide]: I FEEL LIKE SUCH A FOOL.

D: Pancakes all around and let’s have a chat about traaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIII — !

[sounds of WTYP inadvertently setting an 1884 land speed record, and 75 seconds of screams]

D [text over slide]: I HAVE EDITED OUT QUITE A BIT MORE SCREAMING. UNFORTUNATELY, WE HAD ACCESS TO ANY BULLSHIT WE MADE UP DURING THE EPISODE, AND SO DID GOZER. I WILL NOT ELABORATE, BUT HERE IS AN ARTIST’S DEPICTION.

[Postproduction image of blood-drenched Carrie at the prom.]

[more screaming, human language slowly becoming intelligible]

D [louder and louder to be heard above the others]: DEAD AIR AND SCREAMING! DEAD AIR AND SCREAMING! WE’RE ONLY RECORDING DEAD AIR AND SCREAMING! FOR GOD’S SAKE, CLEAR THE BLOOD OUT OF YOUR MICS AND SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!

A: I HAVE DISEASES THEY HAVEN’T EVEN INVENTED YET AND THEY’RE GOING TO NAME THEM ALL AFTER ME! I’LL BE STUCK WITH THIS NAME FOR THE REST OF MY SHORT LIFE! “Oh, Alice Caldwell-Kelly? Did you discover Alice Caldwell-Kelly Syndrome?” “I AM ALICE CALDWELL-KELLY SYNDROME!”

L: I HAD MY MOUTH OPEN!

G: HA HA HA. DON’T YOU LIKE HORSIES, W’TYP [somehow pronouncing it like R’lyeh]?

D: WE PREFER THEM IN ONE FUCKING PIECE!

R: Yeah, that shouldn’t have been like that.

A: Oh, my God, how did I ever think horse viscera was funny?

D: Then think of something else!

A: Nothing is ever going to be funny ever again, and I am going to die in a pocket dimension, covered in horse-and-rat smoothie.

L: And pancakes.

A: And pancakes. …Rocz, what?

R: You got a little piece of tail, right, right there…

D [text over slide]: I HAVE EDITED OUT A FURTHER 45 SECONDS OF MASS VOMITING. IT WAS NOT VERY FUNNY.

A [exhausted]: Just kill us already.

L: Please.

D: Same.

R: Motion carries.

G: POOR, PITIFUL W’TYP. THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY NEVER KILLED ANYONE.

A: Right? So? Now what?

G: I SHALL INDUCE YOU TO [bleep] YOURSELVES! [lower voice] YOU MAY BLEEP THAT IN POST, DEVON. IF YOU SURVIVE!

D [text over slide]: I LIVED, BITCH.

A: Oh, fuck off.

L: Boo! Weak!

R: Not happening.

D: Lazy cunt.

[sounds of WTYP throwing horse-viscera-soaked pancakes]

G: [clearing throat] “SO, WHEN YOU THREE TELL US YOUR PRONOUNS YOU ARE KIDDING, RIGHT? L-O-L!”

A: Oh, God, xe’s reading the comments!

D: No! Never read the comments!

G: “HEY YOU ALL. I AM JUST GOING TO GIVE YOU SOME FEEDBACK FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T LIKE PODCASTS AT ALL. YOU CAN PROBABLY GUESS WHAT THOSE CRITICISMS ARE. I AM HERE TO LEARN ABOUT URBAN PLANNING AND ENGINEERING…” [continuing faintly under the following]

L: Frig. Why did we start pinning the worst ones?

R: It was funny.

D: Xe could at least stick to the ones from the Atmospheric Railway.

R: They were largely positive, though.

A: Boys, I’m going to be really honest with you, I’ve been through some shit in my time, and this is all getting to be a bit much. It’s not so much the negative comments — although it stings a bit more to hear them out loud — it’s being trapped in an alternate hell dimension with no hope of escape. I mean, where does it all end? Just podcasting, negative comments and engineering disasters, for all eternity?

R: It’s been a pretty fun time, right up until just recently…

A: WE WEREN’T COVERED IN PURÉED HORSE UNTIL JUST RECENTLY! [sigh] If we can’t find a way out of this, it’s only a matter of time before I embrace that suction tube and give the horse-and-rat smoothie an Alice boost. Your thoughts?

R: I always figured a god would hafta come kill me to take me out, but I ain’t ready to give up yet.

D: But as it stands, we can only play to a stalemate, and then Gozer changes xyr form again. We need a means of attack. Can you think of an episode where you speculated about… about somehow wounding the disaster? Or… I don’t know, fixing it?

L: I dunno, Dev. They just always seemed so inevitable.

R: We’ve got slides of ‘em.

A: It’s always been more of a gallows humour kind of thing.

D: Superpowers? Did you ever give each other superpowers?

R: Other than the power of knowledge?

D: The power of knowledge isn’t going to dent a fucking god, Rocz! Gods do not work that way!

L: What about… The Frankford Junction Wreck?

A: [sigh] Sleep deprivation isn’t much of a superpower…

L: No, not that.

A: What? Rocz’s well-known love of trains, or… Oh. [laugh] Oh, yes. That might be of considerable assistance.

R: Something other than my well-known love of trains?

A: Shh! Don’t let on!

D: Whose pick is it? Alice had one, and Rocz had one, and we all said this one together.

L: It’s either you or me, buddy. So just don’t stop thinking about the Frankford Junction Wreck…

G: “…I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR BANTER. THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE EDUCATIONAL. NOT ENTERTAINMENT.”

L: Fuck, that was all one comment, wasn’t it?

R: Yep, that was a longy.

A: With no line breaks.

R [to Gozer, flatly]: No.

G: “CAN YOU NOT JUST ENGAGE WITH CRITICISM? THIS WAS ALL SINCERE. I LIKE YOU INDIVIDUALLY AND MOST OF ALL…” [continuing faintly under the following]

D [text over slide]: I CONTROL THE AUDIO MIXING. I AM THE GOD OF EDITING.

D: I don’t think we’re getting out of this until Gozer gets tired of commenting or runs out of material…

A: Xe’s not going to run out of material, this is only from Episode Six!

D: Keep it together, Alice…

L: Don’t worry! I got your back, babygirl. HEY! GOZER! ANCIENT SUMERIAN GODS EAT SHIT!

G: L-O-L! UMAD [pronounced “oomad”] BRO?

L: YEAH! YOU BET I’M MAD! I EXIST ON THE INTERNET, I DO NOT CONFORM TO CONVENTIONAL STANDARDS OF MALE BEAUTY, AND I’M JEWISH! MY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN ARGUING WITH GODS SINCE YOU WERE PISSING IN YOUR ANCIENT SUMERIAN DIAPERS! AND I’M ABOUT TO START MAKING ACTIONABLE THREATS!

D [text over slide]: I GOT YOUR BACK, BABYGIRL.

L: SO WHY DON’T YOU [bleep] YOURSELF IN THE [bleep] BEFORE I [bleep] AND [bleep] ALL YOUR FOLLOWERS IN A KIDDIE POOL OF YOUR OWN [bleep] WITH [bleep] AND [bleep] AND YOUR LITTLE DOGS TOO! UNTIL YOU [bleep] AND I HOPE YOU [bleep] IN [bleep] AND SAY HELLO TO ELON MUSK AND ADOLF HITLER WHILE YOU’RE AT IT! I’LL [bleep] ALL THREE OF YOU [bleep] IN A LAKE OF [bleep] AND [bleep] AND THEN I’LL TOWEL YOU OFF AND FIRE YOU OUT OF A ROCKET INTO THE SUN! AND THAT LAST PART IS NOT ACTIONABLE, I DO NOT HAVE A ROCKET!

G [scandalized]: ELON MUSK?

L: Yeah!

G: THAT WAS GENUINELY HURTFUL.

L: You bet it was! And I got a lot more where that came from!

G: “I HATE TO CRITICIZE A GENERALLY SUPERB PROGRESSIVE PODCAST, ESPECIALLY SINCE MY SON IS ONE OF THE PRESENTERS, BUT…”

D: Oh, God.

R: Is that…?

A: It’s Liam’s dad!

G: “EUROCENTRIC THINKING SHOULD BE DENOUNCED. INFRASTRUCTURE IS NOT JUST AEUROPEAN THING? WHEN WHITE PEOPLE SHOWED UP IN THE US IN THE 17TH CENTURY ANDNEEDED TO BUILD ROADS TO CONNECT WHAT WOULD BE LARGE POLLUTED CONGESTED CITIES 4 CENTURIES LATER, THEY FOUND, OF ALL THINGS, INDIGENOUS PEOPLE’S ROADS A/K/A INDIAN TRAILS. THESE ROADS WERE GRADUALLY WIDENED, PAVED, AND GIVEN ROUTE NUMBERS. MOST OF THIS HAD TO WAIT UNTIL RTHNIC CLEANSING AND THE INVENTION OF THE AUTOMOBILE WERE ACCOMPLISHED. TRY STATE ROUTE 2 PARENTHESIS MOHAWK THE MOHAWK TRAIL CLOSE PARENTHESIS COMMA.”

A: Liam…? Are you okay…?

L [tearfully]: That was valid, sincere criticism from an honorable man — AND YOU ARE NONE OF THOSE THINGS, YOU PLAGIARIZING BITCH-BASTARD!

G: IT WAS VERY POORLY FORMATTED.

L: It was BEAUTIFULLY formatted! I JUST COME FROM A LONG LINE OF PASSIONATE MEN! And when I see my dad again — and I WILL, because you’re going DOWN IN FLAMES — I’m going to give him a BIG HUG!

[applause, cheering from the rest of WTYP]

VINZ CLORTHO (V): We are valid.

A: Fuck! Shit! Where did that come from?

R: They’re eating the pancakes.

ZUUL (Z): [hissing]

R: We’re eating the pancakes, sorry.

V: You have hurt our feelings.

L: You’re trying to kill us! [clearing throat] Alice, do you have a cough drop or something?

A: Eat this cigarette. They work for me.

V: You must die so the new world can be born.

Z: A new world with more tummy rubs.

L: What? I will rub your tummies right now!

Z: [hisses]

V: No. We do not like you anymore. [to Rocz] Die well, doughnut-giver.

G: SINCE WE ARE ONCE AGAIN AT AN IMPASSE, I AM [sigh] ONCE AGAIN OFFERING THE CHANCE TO CHOOSE A NEW FORM.

R: No.

D: We’re fine.

G: NOT EVEN INTO SOMETHING THAT ISN’T COVERED IN PURÉED HORSE AND RAT?

A: No, this… This is great. We like this.

L: We eat horse and rat pancakes for breakfast!

V [faintly, mouth full]: We have much in common, you and us. It is a shame you must die!

G: ALL RIGHT. AND WAITING BEHIND DOOR NUMBER “FUCK YOU,” YOUR NEXT ENGINEERING DISASTER IS…?

WTYP, together: The Frankford Junction Wreck!

R: For some reason.

Part 9

#wtyp #well there's your problem #ghostbusters #long reads #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover fic #gozer the gozerian #alice caldwell-kelly #liam anderson #justin roczniak #devon #engineering disasters #podcast

4 notes · View notes

authortobenamedlater · 2 years ago

Text

Picard episode 3!

Worf. This episode is Peak Worf. “I am Worf, Son of Mogh, slayer of Gowron, legendary bad@$$, blah blah blah. I have made chamomile tea. Do you take sugar?” 😂😂😂 “Did you wear that to a Tuesday beheading?” “Beheadings are on Wednesdays.” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

For real though, I love Worf’s care and concern for Raffi. And that while he is “working on [him]self.” (another 😂🤣 line) he is still very much himself. He’s still Worf, even if he’s a more refined version.

The call with Deanna at the beginning about how “[Will’s] son just vomited all over engineering! Four feet in the air! They should study him for science! BRING THE WHISKEY.” That was just so 😂😂 so relatable. So relatable.

We still need to find out what happened that Deanna wants a break from Will.

The conversation with Beverly and Picard was…strange? Great? Terrible? All at once? I’m still trying to figure out how I feel on that one.

Picard and Riker sliding right into command again. ❤️ Riker throwing Picard off the bridge. 💔 That was like watching Mom and Dad fight. Ugh.

I’ve decided Shaw reminds me of Captain Del Rio from Halo 4. Except Shaw is capital-B Bad and Del Rio was just…bad. I still think Shaw is in on whatever is hunting Beverly and Jack, especially after the “how do they keep finding us” line to Jack in sickbay. Mr disagrees with me on this but my literary/dramatic device radar is usually better than his. And if he ends up being right I’ll never hear the end of it.

Sidney is VERY much Geordi’s daughter. I know she says they aren’t alike, but they are.

For all the talk of how much Jack is obviously Picard’s son, the line in sickbay where he says “You’ve lost a lot of blood, but good news: we’ve got plenty” is SO Beverly.

Credit to Mr for this one: The last scene where Titan is going down looks and sounds not unlike from 1:45 on in this BSG episode:

youtube

#star trek picard #Star Trek #jean luc picard #will riker #deanna troi #Beverly crusher #jack crusher #Worf #raffi musiker #geordi la forge #battlestar galactica

5 notes · View notes

everydayairwaves · 1 year ago

Text

It’s only -12 degrees (f) this morning here in Missoula. The wind and all its associated advisories have moved southeast to Butte. Now the present-day residents of The Richest Hill on Earth are getting a taste of the -45-degree bursts of arctic air that has been ripping through and shutting down everything around here except the operations of Missoula County Public Schools. For the first time since Thursday, the air here has gone still.

Sunday morning brings solace as the house we bought just a year and a half ago is now largely iced over. Ice shatters and cracks into pieces as I force the sliding glass door open to let Seeley, the dog, out. On the other side of the house, ice and frost an inch thick cover the storm door leading to the front yard.

Twice now I’ve taken the time to scrape up the frost accumulating on the floor in front of the saddle threshold. The windows, both inside and out, are lined with beautifully white fluffy frost as if they’ve been prepared by a set designer for a new Disney winter wonderland movie. Condensation stands no chance. Check the box alongside ‘grateful’ to be in my small but airtight, warm, and draft-free newly-remodeled home, shielded from this violent arctic air event by sheetrock and 2x4s.

It’s a little after 7 AM now and I can’t go back to sleep. I awoke with the same pinch of slight anxiety I kicked back at throughout the full duration of my attempt at sleep. The two mezcal palomas probably helped with that. I’ve got far too many tasks to accomplish at this point, so I’ve taken up the mantra, ‘One day at a time’. This keeps the proverbial lid on the otherwise screaming flame of stress I have been somehow unintentionally maintaining despite efforts to dampen it for some time now. Maybe I’ll dive into some self-help literature on being a better me or whatever. Probably not.

For years, I’ve been the sole engineer responsible for a cluster of commercial FM transmitters and a couple of translators. The HD chain used to be my biggest enemy. I spent enough time with it to correct the time alignment and ultimately spent $70,000 to all out-replace the first-generation equipment I had been keeping alive despite its whopping efficiency factor of ~42%. At just under 7kW, that’s a lot of heat just to reach ERP.

Day by day, hour by hour I keep my phone ringer set on high and watch for automated telemetry alerts which come through to me via email and text from the transmission equipment. If things are really bad, a haunting robot voice will call me and tell me what has gone wrong. Even though I usually know what the issue could be, I like to listen to her all the way through before I hang up. Her voice is akin to the robots who would read the Harvard Sentences on the old telco test line which has sadly been decommissioned. I’ve been on call 24/7 since I was in my mid 20’s and this morning is no different. Having turned 30 in August, I’m finding more value in overseeing and modifying practices to suit the future instead of being a busy ‘worker bee’.

Priority 1 is to remotely log into the Master Control server where I can then access all of the transmitters. The big worry with weather like this is ice. With enough ice on your master antenna array, the transmission line will carry more reflected power back down the pressurized coax and into the $100,000+ Shively branch combiner. At best, this could eventually damage the filters. At worst, this could lead to a fire in the building or the melting of the coax. And if that Shively combiner was 100k in 2004/2005, is there really a difference at all between best and worst? The new transmitters all have automatic foldback in the event of high reflected power or, ‘SWR’ (standing-wave-ratio). So, the likelihood of disaster isn’t necessarily ever-present.

Even still, this stuff was, and still is in some ways, state of the art. So, if there is high reflected power coming back into the transmitters, that means Ice, which means a delicate dance of lowering forward power, FCC regulation, and yet somehow melting ice off the antennas. Essentially, a living room prayer.

Except for one older but seemingly bulletproof model, the Crown FM500, I’m fortunate to have top-notch transmitters to maintain. I’ve personally taken up replacing every transmitter at the site since I became Chief Operator in 2014, and then Chief Engineer in 2020. The Nautel VS1 transmitters, all 1kW models, have outstandingly gorgeous GUIs from which you can take in a plethora of technical data and real-time readings. I don’t know how to interpret some of the scopes.

This transmitter site was expertly designed and built in 2004 or 2005, that’s an entirely separate blog series. I have such immense pride — with a soul-protruding responsibility to maintain and carry this broadcast facility and its iconic call signs (if only to some) into the future.

The VS1s are running beautifully, forward power of 997W with 6 watts reflected on one station. This model has built-in Orban processing which, one of my great mentors, who is truly an icon in the field of broadcast, SWEARS is far superior to Omnia in delivering sonic clarity, punch, and presence on the FM dial. Some days I agree with him, most days I don’t. Who knows? Maybe my ears are the wrong shape to assess broadcast processing.

The other VS1 is running slightly more efficiently at exactly 1000 watts forward with ZERO watts reflected. This transmitter serves as the flagship call sign. The big stick. The format stands proudly somewhere between the AAA of the early 2000’s and freeform. Legend has it that the call sign reflects its creator’s initials. True? I don’t know. However, I’d be surprised if this lore weren’t true. So, of course, this transmission line is ‘perfectly matched’ as this is a technical achievement & standard every broadcast engineer strives for but is very difficult to achieve. Par for the course at this facility and on this call sign in particular.

The environment is a big thing to watch and actively maintain. I click and type into the various sensors and remote I/O boxes to see that everything is right in the sweet spot, around 72 Degrees. For temperature control, I have four WiFi-enabled GE window AC units mounted right into the wall of the building. From an app on my MacBook or iPhone, I log in every day or two and rotate the duty cycle so they don’t burn out. They’ve been running around the clock nonstop since 2020.

Moving onward, I log into the Gatesair FAX 7.5 FM+HD and hold my breath while the GUI loads up. To my absolute surprise, it’s running at full power without any errors or problems. This has not been the typical operating parameter of this device since I got it. I’m pleased. I feel the worry of this dangerously frigid Sunday morning melt away.

I have a frequency agile standby transmitter connected to a broadband antenna setup as a backup or AUX. Once a month or so during the cold winter months, I turn it on and run it for a day or two just to make sure it doesn’t ice up. Wouldn’t that be great? Lord, deliver me from the day I need my backup antenna but find my backup plan frozen over like a Stouffer’s lasagna.

The sun has come up now. I nudge the curtain and peer outside, Seeley is ready for breakfast while her dog sister, Bella, is still sleeping in the bedroom.

Radio. Is it working? I certainly am.

#radio #broadcasting #technology #engineering #on air #behind the scenes #Spotify

1 note · View note

mzyk-tmblr · 1 year ago

Text

A Dream, In Vivid Detail (Entry 1)

I’m in a dingy stairwell, and some humanoid grayish creature with blooming yellow eyes is chasing after me and a few others. I’ve experienced a version of this one before. In those previous times we ran as It broke down through some defenses. This time, however, I choose to sacrifice myself to the creature in hopes of it leaving my company alone. The creature devours me and I die…

…I think, maybe, I was still aware the whole time and at some point after that I am standing on that stairwell again and the doorway and room from where the monster came from is now populated. When I enter the room, an man’s voice tells me I need to get in an elevator labeled “Yoush”. I push someone out of the way and enter the elevator before it closes. When the door closes, a lady tells me that I need to “make peace with your soul”, stating something about this was needed to “ascend”. On the elevator (distinctly a single piece, off-white painted sliding door) is a diagram, with the direction of movement reading downwards(from what I understand).

When we get to our destination It is a hotel-like environment(one that reminds me of a hotel my mother’s parents stayed at when my father’s parents were over at our house when I was receiving my first communion) The view from a hallway window overlooked a standard fare commercial roof that was at roughly a 45 from the hotel structure I was in in, which was surrounded by a city. The hotel had pale walls with a muted blue carpet and a wide hallways with doors to the left.

As I walk to a fork between a right turn and an access to another wing to the hotel, from the other wing, a group of grizzled white men in all black emerge. From them emerge what look to be assult rifles. I blaze down the hallway right and go through an exit. I continue down narrow stairs, and then connect up with a wider set of stairs in a mall. The mall was dark, all light emerging from openings, with no space in the mall being filled with anything, with a. I try to flee through an exit, but there is a crowd of what look to be young teens blocking the area by the exit. I keep running to a less crowded where there are young children with one or two colored shirts sitting by the exit, with a distinct chaperonely person there and visible. What these children are doing in this empty structure is a mystery, but my hurried rush for the exit seemed to give them the cue to move outside. When I emerge, a Y chaperone emerges with their group from a small shop dwarfed by a building behind it.

From this dream, which I seem to remember in vivid detail, I have made two attempts to pick apart a meaning. I first began speculating about this as a cue from god(strange, I get it), and then I jumped to wondering if hell was a series of trials of becoming pure enough to ascend to heaven. If someone coudn’t make it though those trials would then be stuck in hell. I believe what I observed to be a possible depiction of hell in this manner. I later speculated about this as a reflection on my pacifistic nature. If I remember the initial version of this dream where I had run from the creature, It decayed into a dream where I was trapped in the endless undecorated interiors of the backrooms. When I chose to face the monster head on is the one where I was instructed on this “ascension”. Later on, when I chose to run from the gunmen, It decayed into the dream I had about the mall, down to the people leaving the bike shop, albeit with a bit more panic. Are my dreams embodying my passivity and avoidance as an obstacle to my reconcilement(with my soul)?

#dream #dreams #dreaming #existentialism #reality #life #metaphor #mental health #stress #struggle

0 notes

waitingformyfavoritesongs · 2 years ago

Text

27 February 2023 Monday 10:43 pmpdt

Incubus is burning 🔥 my back 😤🥵😤🥵😖😭 it looks shorter today than days ago. ��😞

Shannon Ruth, I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ what’s the best advice. I have a lot of fear even when I think 💭 of telling you to write ✍️ or speak 🗣 your story. But if you have had enough then maybe 🤔 you need to explain a little more of the concert story & background. I can really only guess? according to what few details I have found. 10:48 pmpdt 10:49 pmpdt

12:36 am pdt 28 February 2023 Tuesday

my aunt & cousin aren’t my friends. They seem to like to kill me. 12:37 am pdt punched me in the head so hard that it made me not feel well for years. They only think about themselves? Incubus god still wants to punish me for letting my aunt slide by having my cousin punch me in the head. & aunt doesn’t want to take responsibility for being inconsiderate. She only sees my behavior back then as a problem with out thinking 💭 that it could have been her & my cousin’s fault for my behavior Bcz I was still needing to heal from a lot of stuff? Aesop wrote a story of a sick 🤒 stag & his wicked friends. The friends came by to visit & ate all of the sick stag’s food even though they were healthy & able to get their own food. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if god would have considered me to be the sick stag back then but I seem to be very sick 🤕 now. I read that on a free online typing 💬 practice test. I would have never read it otherwise. 12:45 am pdt friendly faces with wicked intentions. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if I fall into that category. My aunt ate all my broccoli 🥦 & nuts, & I think she got to eat dinner at my apartment while usually ignoring me & only speaking in a language for some reason I never learned. She would say “thank you” and then I asked “for what?” Then she’d smile & start speaking Philipino. She was a pharmacist 👩‍⚕️ & then did home 🏠 care. Her English is very good & she liked to use big words back then. But I guess she didn’t take the English test? I guess once she got married she stopped doing pharmacy. Is that garrido’s wife did? Home care? 12:50 am pdt 12:51 am pdt I probably should not have given her a hard time Bcz of her age. She had a successful pregnancy 🤰 in early 40’s. But I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ you think she could have taken a little more of an interest in getting to know me & not doing the things she did, such as being noisy? Her & my cousin? My mom used to sleep 😴 before work (throat acid pain 12:54 am pdt) guess not. Guess I’m always supposed to adjust to the way everyone else is even though incubus hurt me a lot in the head. Always my fault 🤦‍♀️ according to incubus. I’m the heartless b*tch according to incubus. So the husband & children thing is alie then? (Brain pain 12:55 am pdt $ great! My aunt called me crazy for putting things infront of the door 🚪 Bcz I’m afraid 😱 of random people entering. She doesn’t want to call me ahead of time to let me know she’s coming. She wants to make it hard for me. She can sound sweet when she talks but the way she was w/ food, supplies, & money 💰, & trying to start ordering me around made me feel like she might walk all over me. I think 🤔 I remember starting off bing the one to pay most of the rent w/ my savings that I saved from working & not going out much to have fun. 1:01 am pdt & I was taking accounting classes. & it took me all day everyday to get it done ✅ & easily ran out of time ⌛️. 1:02 am pdt diarrhea I still come right back to feeling it was my fault 🤦‍♀️. My aunt & cousin will always blame me. Everyone will always blame me. But no one wants to hear my story & they completely disregarded it when I did tell them & they only thought 💭 about themselves when I did tell them $ & aunt said statute of limitations. & she wants to tell me I’m a liar 🤥 even though I said things that were true. 1:05 am pdt incubus god sees it’s just to treat me that way all the head trauma Bcz he never liked me. Is that why he did that to Jaycee dugard? Bcz he didn’t like her either? 1:06 am pdt

1:07 am pdt I think my aunt & cousin have the same god as the garrido’s & the police 👮‍♂️ investigators who omitted searching the shed & all the doctors 🥼 & medical 🏥 professoionals, & Nick carter. 1:08 am pdt

1:19 am pdt incubus believes Nick carter is the best. Birds of a feather stick together. 1:20 am pdt

if I start to look like this I will probably get assisted suicide or be a hermit for the rest of my life. 1:22 am pdt by the way, this is scary, especially now chips are implanted into the brain. Does it use WiFi? How do you know you won’t be taken advantage of? 1:24 am pdt

1:38 am pdt I guess that’s the big incubus surprise, we’re stuck, doomed to remain this way forever. Always having to put up w/ slavery & torture. When they started rolling back roe vs Wade that’s the signs of open oppression against women. A lot of women want to bear children, but a lot of us are probably cursed by the incubus to not be able to do it safely that we risk our lives to even try. Some of us are made to be hoes/whores Bcz maybe the incubus cursed us to be. Cuz why would I eat cake that was going bad? Bcz I was cursed into doing it like alcoholism & drug addiction. 1:42 am pdt & if marijuana isn’t really bad for us, now it’s medicinal? Then why ban it & keep those people imprisoned? I think I read that somewhere last year? People are still imprisoned for it? & yet people like garrido weren’t put in a hospital for rehabilitation for his bad weird addiction. His problem was intentionally ignored & released to only do it again Bcz it gives people jobs when he does something wrong. 1:46 am pdt Jaycee dugard needed counseling so a counselor got a job. 1:46 am pdt same god incubus I guess. 1:47 am pdt people pretending to be good, being neglectful. Bcz of people like that who do what the incubus said to do we will be stuck in a torturous look, incubus utopia = hell. 1:48 am pdt

1:50 am pdt if incubus god wants a baby born he can always implant the baby in a surrogate. 1:51 am pdt

1:53 am pdt torturous loop not look. Incubus likes child rape to happen, bcz his parents permitted we should probably assume the same about him. 1:54 am pdt he’s still giving me health problems & robbing my bones & ability to breathe, & he’s giving signs he’s the dragon trying to kill Jesus Christ who he says is haughty. 1:55 am pdt bcz there are a lot of shootings still, starvation, police corruption (train track woman in September 2022), rich rapists who are free & doing well, we should assume it’s going to drag on forever. 1:57 am pdt

2:03 am pdt Instagram ... /p/8Nn81uwlsi/ September 29, 2015

behati prinsloo Instagram 2:05 am pdt

looks like he’s hugging the right leg. 2:06 am pdt

...when all you want is this monkey... 2:07 am pdt

2:43 am pdt the dragon killing Jesus Christ now probably means history repeating itself. Like Romeo & Juliet remakes. 2:44 am pdt 2:45 am pdt confession: I did feel scared that something bad did happen from what I did Bcz I wasn’t confident. I lost the confidence very easily. I doubted a lot. But I thought if something really did happen that they would have tracked me down already. A lot of places probably had cameras so it wouldn’t have been difficult. I didn’t hear any noise, no screaming at all, & no blood. Now incubus wants me to doubt about the blood. How about MY blood???? Always spilling my blood. Men don’t have this problem? Periods? Menstruated??? 2:50 am pdt I always have to be the one to adjust to everyone else! 2:51 am pdt

10:26 am pdt to clarify, my aunt would usually start speaking Filipino & turn away from me to talk to my mom. 10:27 am pdt

11:22 am pdt 11:23 am after my cousin, when she was 9, bragged about eating a whole pizza, her dad bought her chicken noodle soup I think it had some vegetables in it. I don’t remember if I watched her eat it. I probably went & did something else. My mom said she made her something with spinach in it & she said she liked it. I never remembered seeing it. Then in 2015 she ate kale I think. I saw on the container it said kale. She probably ate it. So for some reason she was probably made by her dad to try vegetables again & I guess she was able to. I once shared half a fruit with her, but she wouldn’t drink a smoothie for some reason. 11:27 am pdt I don’t know if she ate enough vegetables but I guess she was able to eventually. 11:28 am pdt

0 notes

sitchurama · 4 years ago

Text

Frender Week!

Day Four: Fluff or ANGST

Oh god.

I had a whole story for context to go with this. I might actually write it yet. The gist of this moment was some asshole shoved Fry out the airlock and Bender had to pull off one hell of a rescue... or he tried his best, anyway... 💔

For Frender Shipweek by @sorry-apsalar!

#futurama #frender week #frender week 2021 #frender #philip j fry #bender bending rodriguez #my art #sketchy sitch #I’m sliding this in at 1:45 am...#but it was so worth it #I really do wanna write this...#angst is my JAM #pffffffhahahaha I forgot to sign these nobody look #ahahaha... happy birthday sorry-apsalar? 😅

161 notes · View notes

bratshaws · 3 years ago

Text

goodness gracious 1. brb x oc

THIS FIC IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS PLS DNI!

a/n: * pulls up megaphone * Rooster was raised right by his mom and doesn't care about body types. The lack of plus size fics made me upset so I literally returned to Tumblr to create this blog and write this. This is the first time I'm writing for this fandom so... I HO PE YOU GUYS LIKE IT??? its been centuries SINCE I WROTE aNYTHING ( also god im not creative with titles, please forgive me )

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84

85/86/87/88/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102

warnings: mentions of bullying, self doubt, aNGST, mutual pining, Rooster being a sweetheart.

“Hello!” Beatrice calls once she enters Hard Deck by the employee’s entrance, popping out her airpods to slide them inside her bag shoulder, “I’m not late, am I?” she calls to Penny who’s currently fixing the tables ahead of her.

“No, you are just on time!” she calls, her voice a bit muffled since Bea put her bag inside the little closet area for employees. She checked her appearance before going out on the mirror hanging on the wooden wall, pulling her dark brown hair up in a bun and fixing her Led Zeppelin shirt, wiping the dust off her jeans before finally walking out. Once she gets out, Penny is turning the lights on in the back area of the bar that leads to the beach.

Meanwhile Beatrice grabs one of the bags of ice, carrying it to the ice machine behind the bar, plopping the cold cubes down the container, crumpling the plastic bag once it was empty to toss in the recycler. “I’m here, babes!” a voice calls, then a blonde head of hair shows up, “Hope you two didn’t do everything with me gone!”

“Just waiting for your presence,Michelle!” Penny calls, looking over her shoulder to press a kiss to her niece’s cheek, when she hugs her “Hi, honey, Bea is already here.”

“Bumblebea!” Bea smiles when the blonde comes over to the employees closet as well, removing her denim jacket to expose the low cut red tank top and jeans. “Need help?” Bea nods, pointing to the other bags of ice in the corner, “Friday night, tonight will be a long night huh?”

“Sure will.” Bea noted, the two of them dumping the rest of the ice “How was your date though? With the policeman?” the brunette asked, chuckling when the blonde girl rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“I swear, police officers are the clingiest guys.” Shells said, grabbing the empty bags from Bea’s hand to shove down the recycler, “He didn’t want to leave! I kept saying, ‘hey i gotta go to work,’ and he asked where I worked and I told him he didn’t need to worry about that.”

The two of them then marched to the storage room area where Shells grabbed a box of handkerchiefs. “Then he said ‘oh it’s not a problem, I can take you’ and–and! Then he said ‘I like you a lot.’ Like!! We’ve only hooked up twice!...” she shakes her head, “I just told him it’d be better if we didn’t contact each other anymore and it was fun while it lasted.”

“He accepted that?”

“Course not, called me a bitch all the way out, I think I saw tears in his eyes before he left.” Shells shrugs, waiting on Bea to grab the recycled straws from the upper shelf, then turns off the light once her friend walks out “I swear, I’ll give up on Tinder like you did. It’s insane!”

Bea chuckles, opening the bag of straws to put them inside a glass, “I mean, you know my sister found her husband on Tinder.”

“Um, yeah, but he’s a handsome doctor from London with the body of a god and deep bronze skin. He’s like a beautiful statue!”

“I shouldn’t have never shown you their wedding picture.” Bea laughs, shaking her head with amusement. “and to think I just wanted to show you how pretty the location was.” the two of them looked at the clock, seeing they had little time before the bar opened for the public, so they had to finish everything up quickly.

Once they did and the bar opened, it exploded with people, the voices getting louder the more people entered. Music floated on the air, much to Bea’s delight as she hummed to herself with the songs.

To think, just a few months ago she was looking for a job to help her with the bills and if it wasn’t for Shells and Penny, she’d never get it.

Beatrice is from a tight, traditional Italian family. While they are progressive in certain areas, most of her family doesn’t think women…should do much. If they have a job it should be a useful job, like banking or something like that, not Liberal arts. Which was what she always wanted to do, being a creative person since she was a child, she just wanted to work with what she liked.

But being the youngest of six siblings, the literal baby that had to stay home while her older siblings went out to live their lives out of state or even out of the country she had very little control in certain choices. Maybe it was the empty nest syndrome, with all her siblings gone from the house, her parents only had herself to… take care of in a way. It took years for her to actually go to her choice in college,juggling between work and long study hours, choosing to leave her job once she had enough money saved up to help herself once she got her place.

During college was when she met Michelle, or Shells, who took her to the Hard Deck a few times. It was distant from her job and her parents’ house and Beatrice loved it. She loved the atmosphere, she felt welcome by Penny and even if this was a Naval bar she didn’t feel like she was intruding in some way.

When Shells mentioned they needed one more person at the bar, Bea said yes immediately. Her parents weren’t happy with her choice, but they couldn’t stop her, especially since her own siblings supported it. So now she was here, working, happy, focusing on how she’d continue her career as an artist.

The bell rang, drinks were served, people were dancing. It was a nice night so far. Bea was washing one of the glasses when she heard a cacophony of voices that she heard a few times and her body heats up. She couldn’t help but just stare at him, he stood out of his group like a beautiful floral patterned thumb. With her eyes following him until they all sat down on their usual spot, Bea couldn’t help but bite her lower lip, feeling her cheeks warm up even more when he laughed at something.

“Ohhhhh, cock-a-doodle-doo huh?” Shells’ teasing voice snapped her out of her staring, Bea’s green eyes wide as saucers, seeing her friend’s teasing grin, “How long until you finally make a move?”

“I…I don’t know what you mean.” she continued washing the same glass, the squeaking sound of the sponge rubbing against it giving her some of a distraction.

“Bea, please,” Shells took the glass from her hand, then tilted her head, “You look at that man like he hangs up the moon every time he comes by.” but her friend then turned to the opposite side, focusing on checking the liquor bottles. Shells sighed, coming to her friend’s side and crossing her arms, the brunette trying too hard to keep her eyes on the label.

“This is a 1975, right?”

“Bea.”

“I can’t really see, the label is a bit faded–” the bottle disappears from her hand, Beatrice snapping her gaze to Shells, who holds the liquor under her crossed arms, her eyebrows going up to her hairline. Beatrice sighs defeatedly, “I…I don’t know what you want me to say.” she shrugs “He’s so…” she groans, covering her face with her hands, “He’s so…so hot,Shells. and he sings! and-and he’s funny and…he’s everything I’ve always wanted in a guy.”

“One more reason to go to him.” Shells whispers, “He’s single and handsome. You are single and gorgeous.” the blonde held her fingers up in a V position, before joining the two with a kissing sound, “Perfect match.”

Bea frowned, “It’s not that simple.” she murmured “I…I mean…look at me Shells.” she spread her arms to emphasize. But her friend just frowned, “Oh come on, like…look at me I’m not the type of girl who gets guys like that.”

She was a curvy gal, always had been. Normally, she wouldn’t mind it, but when it comes to guys, more especially when it comes to Rooster she just lost a good amount of confidence. He was literally adonis personified, just the most beautiful man she had ever seen. and she felt less than pretty when she remembered the type of girls that surrounded him or worked with him.

“You know that’s not true.” Shells said with her voice low, a kind smile on her face, “You have as much chance as any girl out there.” Bea however scoffed, “You gotta believe in yourself Bea. You are gorgeous, any guy would be lucky to have you.”

The brunette’s eyes stung with unshed tears, the same eyes she clenched shut in hopes to hold them in. Memories of past relationships flooding her brain, bringing memories she wished to forget “Can we not talk about this anymore?” Shells is about to say something else but a customer calls for a refill, which Bea thanks every powerful being for, slapping on a smiling mask, “Coming right up!”

Shells only watches her friend go to the opposite side to serve one of the guys there, laughing when he says something to her - clearly drunk - before walking away. Shells’ stare broke when she heard the bell ring, turning on to face the person.

She immediately smiled wider, “Hi Bob.”

She likes Bob, she thought he not only was sweet he was also so smart. He knew he had a hard time with the group, especially Jake, but he was getting there. She leaned on her elbows, giving him a sweet smile, “What can I get you?”

The way his cheeks flushed and his eyes tried to look anywhere but the cleavage she put on display was so cute, “Oh, uh, just more beer?”

“Sure! Should I put it in your tab?”

“Yes,please.”

Shells went to the fridge to grab the beers, then paused, sending a look to where Beatrice was currently talking to two female customers. She then looked over her shoulder to Bob, who smiled at her, then past Bob to where his group was…a devilish thought showed up in her brain, “Why don’t you wait with the others? I’ll bring it to you.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll be there then.”

With the beers on top of a tray, she sent one last look to her friend who was still busy, then sped her step maneuvering through the crowd until she reached them. “There you go, more fuel for the pilots.” she teased, making them laugh while switching the empty bottles with the full ones, throwing some quick looks to her brunette friend, “So,” she rested the empty tray on her hip, “What else can I get you?”

“Your number would be nice, sweetheart.” Jake was quick to say, sending her a wink with the bottle to his lips.

Shells chuckled, “I meant something achievable,Hangman.”

“I think we are all fine.” Phoenix says, “Thanks Shells.”

“Hey, not a problem. Oh, just letting you guys know, I’ll go on a break in a few minutes so if you guys need anything else, you can ask Bea.” She kept an eye on everyone, but especially Rooster. The way his eyes just snapped to her friend made her insides flip in triumph, the little smirk on her face hidden by her biting the inside her cheek, “She’ll gladly serve you.”

Rooster’s eyes finally left the brunette at the bar counter, meeting Shell’s knowing blue gaze only to clear his throat and look away again, “Well” she drawled, walking backwards, sending them a salute, “Enjoy the night!”

The moment Shells approached the bar, she ran to her aunt, whispering something in her ear. Both Penny and Shells looked in Beatrice’s direction, who was leaning down to pick something behind the bar, unaware of the scheming happening behind her back.

Once the time came for Shells to have her break, Penny kept an eye on Beatrice. It took just a few seconds for a known pilot to approach the bar, the bell rang and Beatrice turned around with a wide smile, a smile that faltered for a quick second before returning - albeit a lot milder than before - “Hi!” her voice was higher, so she cleared her throat, “Um,hi.”

“Hey.” Rooster replied, leaning his elbows over the counter, which made Bea suck in a hard breath once she saw the curve of his pecs underneath the white tank top, “Can you believe I came here to get more beer? Just three this time though.”

She couldn’t help but huff out a chuckle, covering her mouth with her hands then “Well, it is a bar.” she adds, “I would be surprised if you came here for groceries.”

When he laughed at her joke she almost felt like fainting, biting her lower lip hard with her head dipped, “I-I’ll go get it.” practically power walking towards the freezer where she stood for a few minutes, letting the cool air hit her cheeks as she tried to calm herself. She shook her head for a quick moment, grabbing the beers between her fingers and turning back around, almost letting out a yelp of surprise to see he was still looking at her “There you go.”

“Thanks.” but he didn’t leave, pointing his index finger at her “Bea, right?” she nods with a small smile, “It’s weird, I’ve seen you for a while and never got your name.”

Maybe because she chickened out every time he seemed to want something, ending up telling Shells to do it, “Oh, well,” she only gave him a weak shrug, then felt like her arms were too exposed, quickly lacing her hands behind her back to hide them the best she could, “I haven’t been here long.”

He hummed, a tiny smile on his face, “I’m Rooster.”

“I know,” she blinks when his eyebrows raise in amusement, “I-I mean, I heard Penny and Shells talking about you and heard your name being called around.” her face was so warm she felt like she was boiling. She hoped the light above her head hid her blush from his view. “I…is there anything else I can get you?”

“I don’t think so, no.” he looks back at his friends, seeing they are still chatting amongst each other. Then his eyes travel to the splotches of ink on her upper arms, the parts that weren’t hidden behind her. However before he could ask her about them, she snaps her head ahead when she sees someone on the table lifting their glass.

‘Sorry I–” she moves her own finger over his shoulder, “I gotta go get this.”

“Oh, oh no no, yeah, go ahead.” he smiled and her knees almost buckled just like that, “I’ll go back then.”

“Okay.”

They stood there for a bit longer, until Rooster shook his head, picking the beers with one of his hands “I’l see you around then,Bea.” he smiles then turns on his heel back to the other pilots. Bea just stood there, face flaming and eyes wide, then she cleared her throat walking out from behind the bar to the table.

Penny, who watched the entire ordeal, just smiled, sending Shells a quick text once no one was looking:

“It’s on.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #boy am i down bad #like woof man #bradley bradshaw x reader #ill go freak out now ha h

817 notes · View notes