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judgeanon · 2 years ago

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Plastic Skies - Model 3: F-14A Tomcat

Last time, I’d run into my first proper obstacles and managed to come out on top but feeling like some changes had to be made. It was time to spread my wings a little in more than one way. I was feeling the need. The need for quality.

With my usual supplier still struggling to get some of the stuff I needed, namely decal solution, I decided to start looking elsewhere. Buying supplies online was fine but I preferred checking out actual shops, not just for the items but for the chance to talk with experienced people and get some tips on how to use all these new tools. Eventually I settled on a couple of places inside two shopping galleries, which turned out to be an incredibly amusing dichotomy: one shop had every possible tool I needed but a relatively small amount of models, while the other had barely any tools but like six different displays and three walls absolutely brimming with kits.

I went to that second one first. Due to some miscommunication and a little embarrasment, I walked out with two cans of enamel paint that I don’t really use because I’m more of an acryllics guy (so far). But more importantly, I also got a small 1:144 Revell Tomcat. A price hike from my last ones, but not a particularly steep one. And I figured, if I wanted quality kits, Revell was the way to go. As for the model, well... it’s a Tomcat. You show me someone who doesn’t like the Tomcat and I’ll show you the miraculous man without a heart.

The second shop yielded a much better bounty. There, I finally got my decal solutions, plus a bottle of varnish (which I’d seen on tutorials was the final step to a good decalling) and a box of red paint that I wasn’t gonna use for the Tomcat but figured I’d have around for possible future projects. This would eventually represent another small turning point in this whole new hobby, but more on that later. For now, I had work to do.

Right out of the box, I could tell these German motherfuckers were not fucking around. My last two models’ instructions had been a single sheet of photocopied paper. This one had a whole 12 page booklet, plus a second health warning booklet, plus a decal sheet twice as big as the last two combined. This was the proverbial Something Else. And if there was any doubt in my mind, that changed quickly the moment I looked at the instructions and started building the cockpit. The damn thing has decals for the control panels, despite the fact that you can’t see them even with a magnifying glass in the final build. And then there were the wings.

I’d seen them in the instructions booklet so I understood the general idea, but I still found myself smiling like a baby once I put them in. Such a simple and elegant solution that brought this closer to a toy than a model. If I didn’t love it yet, I was ready to buy this model dinner and a drink now.

Funny enough, while my brother and I never built a Tomcat as kids (we didn’t see Top Gun until we were both in our teens, so our only real attachment to the plane for years was just Afterburner and Macross’ Valkyries), I do remember owning a pretty well-made toy plane, with the swing-wings and all, that I proudly displayed next to all the other models. It was at least three times bigger than the one I was building now, but as I pushed those little wings back and forth, I could feel its spirit coming back to me.

The rest of the construction went mostly well. Lots of silent admiration for the hyper detailed panel lines and little details, most of which managed to survive even my clumsy brush strokes (and the darker-than-recommended shade of gray I used). Things only really started to get annoying once I tried to decal the plane’s six missiles. A combination of inexperience with decal solution and abject terror for the safety of the decals themselves (which turned out to be mostly unfounded because Revell decals are sturdy motherfuckers) meant that the process was slow and excruciating, and the results rather shoddy.

Likewise, the landing gears were a small big nightmare. Revell and a few other companies really like making these small parts that you can then slice into two or three or four even smaller parts to complete, for example, the landing gear doors. Which is theoretically great because it offers more of that sweet sweet customization, but in practice is a recipe for a horrorshow. You can see its results on the monstrously mangled doors of the frontal gear of this pure plane, and while harder to notice, there were two pieces of the back gears that I straight-up didn’t even try to glue in. I value my sanity more than the presence of a half-inch piece of plastic.

Slowly, painfully, I managed to complete the main build and reach the final stage: the full decalling. To my amusement, the instructions included two options. One was an actual real life Tomcat from the USS Nimitz, pilot names and all. The other turned out to be a Tomcat from a movie I’d never heard before, THE FINAL COUNTDOWN, about the aforementioned USS Nimitz travelling in time back to Pearl Harbor in 1941 and... I actually haven’t seen the movie yet and reviews say it’s kinda meh, but it’s absolutely on my Lazy Sunday list.

However, I settled for the real life decal sheet, mostly because the other one had a couple of extra decals and I wasn’t feeling like doing even more work. I was already quite frustrated by the missiles and landing gear, and decaling the tailfins/canopy didn’t help. Decal solution was certainly making things easier, but not exactly easy enough. Silvering was becoming very noticeable. And those damn wrap-around yellow tops kicked my ass pretty hard. But at least I got the Jolly Rogers on... somewhat.

I finished those late at night on a Friday, then went to sleep dreading what was going to come next. The tiny names, the sneaky corners, the endless work that would surely stretch for hours and hours. It was going to be a pain in the ass. But when I actually got down to it the next morning, something... clicked. Something happened. Maybe I just needed the rest or the extra daylight, but decaling the sides of the plane wasn’t a pain at all. In fact, it ended up being downright fun. And more importantly, tremendously satisfying.

Each new decal that I placed just peeled away at the layer of fear that used to cover them. Even the really small ones, the ones that went in some tiny corner of the plane right behind the missiles I’d already glued on, ended up being a ball to just softly slide around with a toothpick. Maybe it just spoke to my inner desire for visual order. I’m 100% the kind of person that straightens picture frames and orders his shelves by publisher. So moving these strong decals around until they were at the perfect position was deeply soothing to me. Even the tiny red stripes gave me almost no trouble. And before I knew it, I was putting in the final coats of varnish. It was done.

Of course, a new finished model meant another round of pictures to show to family members and friends, who I’m sure by now were beginning to get a little tired of my constant droning. Still, as previously established, nobody with a heart can resist the allure of a nice Tomcat. And now I had far more angles to show off.

And then there was that turning point I mentioned. Because while I was varnishing the F-14, I realized the varnish, the decal solution, these new things I had... well, no reason why I couldn’t use them on the two older models. No reason why I couldn’t give the Mirage’s decals some solution to try and get the silvering out, or why I couldn’t try to polish that poor misshappen MiG-21 with some varnish. Which was exactly what I did before the Tomcat had even finished drying.

Like doing the decals, it was another moment of great satisfaction to use the tools I’d tried out and the experience I’d accumulated to make those previous kits shine a bit more. To know that a lot of the things I learned could be applied not just to the current model but to all of them. It was a notion that made me want to try even more new things, even the really intimidating ones. I found myself locked into the best kind of feedback loop that any hobby has to offer, where you can see yourself improve in real time while also receiving physical, empirical evidence of that improvement. I was getting better. I was getting braver.

And on the next model, I told myself, I was really going to test myself.

#My Stuff #Hobbies #Journals #And yes #That Tomcat's pilot really was called #Lt Col Dick Johnson #I'm sure he was extremely popular with the crew #Or at least #Nice to have at a party

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babymilkawa · 4 years ago

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I couldn’t see if the requests were open or not so feel free to ignore this if they are closed! I LOVED your ballet piece and I don’t even do ballet lmao,, can you do the same thing with maybe a painter s/o? Like maybe they are working on a canvas or something? Or a different scenario where they just see their s/o concentrated on a canvas if you want to change things up! Again with todoroki and maybe with tamaki or any other charavters you feel like! Thank you so much if you write this and if now I really like your stuff even thought I just found you

aww I’m sry I’ll add my status on my bio cos my pinned post is getting kind of crowded but anon omg u read my mind! I was just thinking of doing an artist s/o <3

artist s/o headcanons with:

todoroki shoto, tamaki amajiki, bakugou katsuki

gn!reader :)

todoroki shoto

whenever the two of you are chilling in your dorm, you just pull a canvas up and start painting

he’s like where’d you even pull that out from?

but the atmosphere is quiet and peaceful

if you don’t want him to look at the wip only the final result (like me), he’ll respect that and sit in front of you

but if you’re ok with him watching you paint, he’ll just pull up a chair next to you and just s t a r e

won’t say anything cos he doesn’t wanna break your bubble

but is fascinated

how do you do it? how do you look so beautiful and wow how do your hands just make works of art like that?

even if ur not proud of some of ur pieces, he thinks they’re all great

because he knows how much effort you put in them

to him, ALL of them are masterpieces B)

and omigod if you draw him?? he’ll melt into your hands

will treasure it SO much

maybe even have little drawing games like drawing each other’s face

his paper will have hearts all over it and even if it looks bad, u appreciate the effort <3

if you guys are lying around, he’ll just take your hands and stare at them

kissing in between them, on your palm, or your wrist

he’s thinking like these...these are the hands that create art

tamaki amajiki

the first time you do it, he’ll just sit there

speechless

and if you turn and catch him staring, he’ll turn away and go “oh wow that’s a cool eraser”

“could you pass that to me babe?” You ask

“s-sure yea”

he is often in a huge dilemma at times like this

like does he stare at ur beautiful face?? or does he look at the art ur making with those beautiful hands??

very confused

after you’re done you ask him what he thinks and he’s :O

will 192938299% encourage you if you put it up for show or on the internet

takoyakiboy72: i have never seen anything this beautiful...except maybe the artist

if you randomly send him sketches of him or his favorite food, he’ll rly put them in a special place in his heart

he has a whole chamber for you in his mind and every single file cabinet is a memory

ur art is in one of them ;)

let’s say you mess up

he’s by your side immediately before you freak out and either gets a paper towel to clean it up or gives you suggestions on how to fix it if it’s too late to turn back

if u go for hours at a time without taking a break, he’ll bring in water and snacks and will feed you cos u have paint stains on ur fingers

ur #1 fan yessir 😌

bakugou katsuki

boy is damn annoying

if u don’t want him to see the wip, he’ll tease you first

try to sneak around you or get a mirror or lay his head on ur lap to take a littttleee peeeaak

earning a flick to his forehead of course

but he knows that u knows he’s joking

if u start to get annoyed and say that he’s distracting you, you will not hear from him until you finish

UNleSsss you want him there

no hesitation, head on ur lap, admiring your face

yk sometimes he’ll just walk in ur dorm if ur not in there and just sit on ur bed

and stare at the works of art on ur wall

like it’s some kind of museum

If u get a little insecure or don’t wanna hang it on the wall he’ll hype you up or offer to put it at his dorm

u need to feel confident cos ur his s/o ok 😠

if u post it online, lordexplosionmurder420 will spam and hype up everything

he is ur supplier for art supplies

yes he sponsors u 😌✨

if he even hears you try to squeeze a bottle of paint with some effort, he’s running to the store to get you a whole pack

washes your palette and brushes clean because “you worked hard shitty woman”

if u draw him, immediately goes why me??

cos u were practically carved by a god SIR

a/n: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while so thx for the ask!!

bnha masterlist

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

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Don’t Judge Me

Chapter 2 of my Untitled (for now) Song Series. Here’s the link to Chapter 1 if you haven’t read it.

Word count: 5348

CW: smut

The next morning, Ashanti woke up in a sweat about thirty minutes earlier than usual. She had dreamed of the mystery man again, only this time he wasn’t such a mystery anymore even though his face was still a blur. She’d recognize his gait anywhere and his warm cocoa butter scent filled her nose. She had been dreaming about the king, and this time they went further than a kiss.

She peeled off the big T-shirt she slept in and fanned herself to cool down, but then she noticed a stickiness between her legs...

“I can't believe I had a whole ass wet dream about the king.” She whispered to herself as her mind drifted back to what she was experiencing just minutes ago. It only came to her in flashes, but she could still feel his big hands all over her body and his tongue making its way down to her center before swirling around her still throbbing pussy. She felt her pussy stretch as he entered her from behind and his balls slapping against her clit. She felt his hand squeezing the sides of her throat, and just as they came together she woke up.

The memory made her pussy throb even more as more wetness dripped out of her. She couldn't help but to trace her nipples with her left hand and trail her right hand down her body, taking the same path Dream T’Challa took down to her aching pearl. Her fingers stroked her clit and she let out a moan, still thankful for the soundproof walls.

His voice played in her head.

Say my name.

“Mmm, T’Challa…”

Do you like when I fuck you like this?

“Ewe kumkani wam”

Oooh, you like it rough, don't you? Nasty girl...

“Mmm just for you, baby.”

That’s not my name. What’s my fucking name?

“Kumkani”

Uh-huh, there you go kitten. Turn over…

Look at me.

That’s right, cum on my dick just like that. Cum for your Kumkani.

Mmm, I’m not pulling out. I’m staying right here and filling you up. Oh, you like that? Good. I want you overflowing with me. Can you do that for me baby? Can I cum in this pussy?

“Cum in your pussy Kumkani.”

Ashanti’s legs began to shake and the tingling in her lower abdomen began to overwhelm her senses. Her body tensed up then she released all over her fingers with a loud jagged moan. She came down from her high while slowly playing in the pool of wetness that had collected between her lips.

She loved starting her day with an orgasm, and she hoped that maybe it would end with one too if her date went well enough.

Ashanti peeled herself from her bed and got up to get her day started. She went for her usual morning run, ate breakfast with her roommates, then went to open the store just like any other workday. The only difference being she was getting progressively more nervous about her date with the king as time went on. It was a slow day in the Bazaar, so she closed her shop down around 4 and went to visit her parents before the dinner rush.

She walked into the restaurant and saw her mom sitting at a table rolling flatware, so she silently sat down beside her and proceeded to roll with her. Five minutes passed before Ashanti gave a sigh and looked like she had something to say that she couldn’t quite get out. Bisa knew something was seriously bothering her, but she also knew her child would eventually tell her.

“So I have a date tonight.”

A crash was heard from the kitchen as her dad emerged seemingly out of nowhere.

“With who?!”

“I can’t tell you…”

Chidi and Bisa looked at each other in confusion.

“What do you mean you can't tell us? You tell us everything!”

“More than we need to know, most times…”

“Chidi, hush. Honey, who is this person?”

“Mama, Baba...if I tell you then you have to promise to keep this between us.” “Of course baby”, they said in unison. Ashanti took a deep breath.

“I have a date with King T’Challa…”

They stared at her in disbelief. Chidi looked like he had seen a ghost and Bisa’s excitement grew by the second.

“Oh my Bast! Baby, how did you...of course he’d be an idiot not to, but how...he's the king!”

“I don't like it…” Chidi grumbled as Bisa hit his arm.

“Baba! Why?”

“He just seems so...slick.”

“Chidi, hush. I’m happy for you honey, but what’s the problem? You’ve been moping around here this whole time.” Bisa held Ashanti’s cheek in one hand and moved the braids out of her face with the other.

“I’m scared, Mama. He’s sweet and intelligent and the finest man Bast ever created...I just don’t know. He’s royalty for Bast’s sake! What could we possibly have in common?”

“You never know until you talk to him, honey.”

“Your mama’s right. Get out of your head, kiddo, it’ll be fine. But if he tries anything, I’m not above treason.”

Ashanti laughed at her father, knowing he was only half joking.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Baba…” Ashanti started before sighing and standing up. “Alright, I should start getting ready if I’m going to do this thing. Wish me luck!”

She kissed both of her parents on the forehead and grabbed her things to head home, but not before swiping a snack from the kitchen. On her way back to her house her nerves started to grow again, but once she arrived Binta and Kwame helped talk her out of it.

“Sis, breathe. First and foremost, you need to be alive for the date. Second there’s nothing to worry about! He already likes you after just meeting you twice, you got this!”

“It’s not just that…”

“What is it?” Binta asked with real concern written all over her face.

“I...srt of had a wet dream about him last night…”

Both twins were in shock.

“About the King?!”

“Ooooh you’re in for it Miss Thang.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did it feel real?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then someone’s gonna get their back blown out by our kumkani!”

Ashanti looked away and she felt her cheeks and ears heat up while Binta and Kwame screamed in celebration of their best friend’s new dick supplier.

“He’s going to knock the dust off that thing, thank Bast. Girl you must tell us about that strength of the Black Panther mess, because I just know that man is packing a weapon.”

“I wonder if you can fuck him with the suit on,” Bisa thought out loud.

“He had a big dick in my dream...and that suit idea isn't half bad, I’ll hold onto that for later.” Ashanti winked at her roommates.

Kwame looked at the time.

“Ok enough chit-chat, go get ready. Prince Charming will be here soon.”

“You mean King Charming?”

“No, it’s from some European story. They actually do have a few things that aren’t half bad.”

“ Ooookay. Well I’m gonna go shower the day off.”

“Need help picking your outfit?” Binta asked with a hopeful tone in her voice. She loved a good at-home fashion show.

”I have it narrowed down to two, so I could definitely use a second and third opinion. Now let me go shower!”

Ashanti stepped under the water and her music began to play. Her nerves washed down the drain and a feeling of euphoria came over her as violins blared through her speakers followed by the sweet sounds of an acoustic guitar. Her heart swelled, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so big.

Come, let me kiss you right there Wake you up like sunrise On the backs of your thighs I'm gonna pray you this prayer That I keep in my mind As a lovely reminder

Janelle Monae somehow perfectly captured the warm and fuzzy and nervous feelings that come with falling in love. “Don’t Judge Me” had quickly become one of her American favorites, but until recently she had forgotten that feeling. It had been four years since her last first date, and one year of being single. Her ex broke her heart into a million little pieces, and she was still struggling to put herself back together again. Ashanti had just gotten to the point where she felt she could ever love again when T’Challa breezed into her shop. His timing had been perfect, almost divine.

Even though you tell me you love me I'm afraid that you just love my disguise Taste my fears and light your candle to my raging fire Of broken desire

The lyrics spoke to her nervousness to open herself up to someone new, especially someone with so much power in his hands already. What could she do if he ended up being abusive like-

She cut herself off and turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and letting herself air dry while finishing her skincare routine. Ashanti covered herself in shea butter and spritzed on the new perfume Binta got her for her birthday last month. Then she started on her makeup, deciding to keep it light. She swiped on a tinted moisturizer, added some highlight to her cheeks, and filled in her brows before swiping some mango-flavored red-ish lip stain over her plump lips.

Ashanti switched out her round septum ring for a triangular one she just made last night out of boredom. The point of the ring landed above her cupid’s bow like a giant flashing sign that reads “Put lips here!”

She parted her braids on the left side and two-strand twisted the front section before pinning it back and pulling the rest of her hair in a bun at the back of her head. She took a deep breath and threw on outfit choice number one. Binta and Kwame were already situated in the living room with a bottle of wine ready for the show.

She wore tapered, high waisted kente pants with a black lace bustier top and a layered pearl necklace.

“Ok this is outfit number one.” Ashanti turned around so they could get the full view. She could see them both trying their best to hold their tongues. “Please hold all comments until the end.”

“But girl that-”

“Aht! Not. Yet.”

Ashanti did one last twirl before Naomi Campbell walking back to her room. Binta and Kwame looked at each other and said a whole mouthful with just their eyes.

When she walked into the living area she had slid into a leather skirt and a billowy white off the shoulder top. She had topped it off with a gold choker of her own design. Ashanti did a little twirl before allowing her roommates to give their feedback.

“One at a time. Kwame?”

“Ok so, first off, where is he taking you?”

“I have no idea, he just said be ready at 7.”

“Ok then I’d go with outfit one, but with this choker. The pearls hide your titties, and girl that bustier calls for them to be front and center”

“Seconded. And you should wear those cute beaded sandals you got the other day at the Bazaar. Normally I’d say heels, but since you don't know what the date is it’s better to be safe and wear flats. You know how you are, and that is inappropriate first date behavior. You keep your shoes where?”

“On my feet.” Ashanti grumbled. She loved wearing heels, but her feet didn’t. Almost every time she wore them she ended up carrying them in her hand while walking around barefoot for some relief. This annoyed Binta to no end.

“Thank you. Now go put on the full outfit!”

“Be right back”

Ashanti made her way back to her room and changed into the same pants and bustier from earlier. She slid on the beaded sandals Binta suggested and checked out her neon purple pedicure before standing up and smoothing her clothes down in the mirror. Just as she reached for her doorknob the doorbell rang.

“6:50, he’s early.”

She heard the door open downstairs and damn near tripped over her feet to run downstairs to keep her roommates embarrassing her. She didn’t make it in time.

“Good evening, I am supposed to be taking Ashanti out for the night. Is she in?” Kwame and Binta saluted the king and stammered over their words.

“S-she just uh-”

“She’s u-upstairs, kumkani wam.”

“‘Please, call me T’Challa. Hopefully we will be seeing more of each other.” he said, sending a wink their way before he saw Ashanti enter the room from the corner of his eye.

______________

T’Challa was startled awake by the sound of his alarm. Normally he wakes up on his own and the alarm is just an extra precaution, but occasionally it comes in handy. This was one of those times thanks to a tantalizing dream he didn’t want to leave.

He was sure the woman in his dream was Ashanti, despite the fact that he couldn’t make out her face clearly. She had the same sway in her wide hips, and he recognized the delicately rough hands that found their way up and down his body. He could taste her on his lips and his dick still stood at attention for her. T’Challa looked at the clock and determined he had enough time to take care of himself, but just as he got up to get the shea butter a knock at his door ruined the mood. The king growled in frustration.

“Ay nigga, you late!” N’Jadaka called through the door.

“I am aware, cousin. I will be there shortly.”

N’Jadaka made his way down to the dining area while T’Challa quickly got ready for his day that was already starting out on a frustrating note. He finally made it down to breakfast just as the food was being served.

The royal family ate and discussed the day ahead.

“Someone’s got a date with that cute shopgirl today…” Shuri teased her big brother and he cut his eyes at N’Jadaka.

“You told her?!”

“He told us both dear, you know Daka can’t hold water. So tell us about her. She is in Ada’s old storefront, yes?”

T’Challa sighed and removed his napkin from his lap, placing it on the table and leaning back in his chair.

“Yes mama, she bought Ada’s and the shop next to it.”

“What does she sell?”

He figured now was as good a time as any, so he called Ayo on his beads.

“Ayo, please bring the black bag from my office with “Taj’s” on the side”

“Ewe kumkani wam, right away.”

T’Challa looked back towards his family, each one with their eyes glued to him.

“She is an artist,” he started. “She has turned it into a multi-purpose artistic space, but the shop is still operational. It’s called Taj’s now after her grandfather-”

“Yeah ok, tell us about her, ubhuti.”

Ayo came in with the requested bag and handed it to her king.

“Thank you, you are dismissed Ayo,” he said before turning back to his family. T’Challa reached into the bag and pulled out two boxes before handing them to his mother and sister.

“Damn, nothing for me?” N’Jadaka feigned offense.

“Not this time, umzala. Mama, sister, I hope you like them. They were custom made by Ashanti.”

Ramonda and Shuri opened their gifts and were stunned speechless. Shuri immediately took off her current necklace and replaced it with her brother’s gift. Ramonda stared at it, still speechless.

“Thank you, brother, I love it! Ashanti is very good at what she does.”

“You are more than welcome. Mama, do you like it?”

“Like it? It's too beautiful for me to even touch. This is amazing, unyana wam, thank you.”

“Good job, T.” N’Jadaka raised his glass of mango juice to his cousin.

“Well, as you can see she is very talented. I went to visit Ada the other day, but wanted to see what became of her shop first. When I saw her, I-...she took my breath away. She has this warm energy that just pulls you in and wraps its arms around you...”

“You sound sprung, as the Americans say.”

“Mmmhm he sure is Auntie, nose wide open and everything.”

T’Challa wanted to roll his eyes, but they were right. It took everything in him to not start grinning like a fool.

The royals parted ways after breakfast and went to tend to their duties. T’Challa and N’Jadaka didn’t have time for a walk today since there was a council meeting immediately after breakfast. It turned out to be the most boring council meeting T’Challa had ever presided over. What’s worse than land disputes? DIscussing treaties and embargoes with other countries. Half the council wanted Wakanda to keep its resources, citing how the rest of Africa was stripped of its riches by Europeans. They felt there was nothing positive the outside world had to offer Wakanda. The other half of the council argued that Wakanda was too strong a nation to be controlled by western powers, and therefore should join in trade and keep the upper hand.

“My king?”

T’Challa had zoned out for the past five minutes until N’Jadaka elbowed his side, pulling him out of his daydream.

“Huh?”

“My king, we were asking where you stood on the matter.”

N’Jadaka looked at his cousin knowingly, trying to conceal a smirk.

“I will need more time to think on it. Let us revisit this matter in a week, is there anything else on today’s agenda?” He asked his cousin.

“Nope, we’re done.”

“Thank Bast,” T’Challa whispered under his breath. “Meeting adjourned. I will see you all next week.”

As the council members left the room one by one, N’Jadaka stared at his cousin with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

“Only one of us can zone out at a time and I had some good daydreams planned for today, so what’s up with you?”

T’Challa sighed.

“I can’t get her off my mind…”

“Wide. Open.” N’Jadaka cackled as he left his cousin sitting in the throne room, still thinking about Ashanti.

T’Challa had a full agenda for the day and decided to get started. Why bother daydreaming when in just a few hours he would be in her presence.

First, he went to visit the river tribe. It was the dry season, but thankfully the river still flowed with enough water to last them until the rainy season kicked back into gear. Then, he visited his sister’s lab and the mining tribe.

“Brother! You must look at this!”

Shuri barely gave him a chance to get in the lab before she was dragging him left and right showing him her new creations. The visit lasted longer than T’Challa expected, but time always flew when he was with his usisi.

The king made his way back to his quarters to start preparing for the night. He had decided on a nighttime picnic by a private lake for their first date so they could talk and get to know each other better.

Hopping into the full bathtub that already awaited him in his quarters thanks to the palace staff, T’Challa relaxed into the water and felt most of his stress slip away. To get the rest of the stress out, he reached for the pre-roll that was placed beside the tub with a note from the royal grower.

“Snow Goddess OG -Amare”

“Snow goddess, huh? Probably Jabari…” T’Challa lit the blunt and relaxed even more into the water, letting the weed take him to another plane.

T’Challa’s body felt tingly and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He fought a giggle as he rose from his bath and caught sight of his chubby half-erect dick hanging down his thigh in the mirror.

“She’s not even here and we don't have time. Sorry, man, I’ll get you later, I promise..or maybe she will? Either way, just be patient.”

“Shit, what was in that?” T’Challa laughed at himself for talking to his dick.

He had already gotten lined up earlier that day, and he admired the barber’s job well done while he moisturized his curls then the rest of his body. The king spritzed on a new cologne and made sure to spread some to his pulse points. He filed his nails then relocated to his closet to put together an outfit for the night.

Even though T’Challa was a relatively young king he always seemed beyond his years when he stepped into his Black Panther and kingly duties. However, outside of when he needs to be professional, T’Challa was like any other Wakandan in their late twenties. Instead of the traditional formal attire he wore when performing his duties, he dressed more modern and relaxed in informal settings. When T’Challa and Ashanti met he had been wearing a simple black shirt and jeans with his black combat boots and his Black Panther claw necklace on display. The second time they saw each other he had on an intricately embroidered black tunic over matching pants and black sandals. This time he wanted to look nice, but still relaxed. He needed to find a happy medium.

T’Challa stood naked in his closet for about 15 minutes before it finally came to him.

________________

‘How is this man so fine?’ Ashanti thought to herself as she took in the sight before her. There stood the king, in her entryway, looking like a whole damn meal. Her eyes travelled up and down his lean, muscular frame just as his eyes did the same to her. He wore a short sleeved black button up with kente trim which was unbuttoned just enough for her to see his claw necklace resting in an almost unnoticeable bit of chest hair. He had on some simple dark wash jeans and his favorite pair of boots donned his feet. The icing on the cake was the silver hoop earring in his right lobe. Ashanti just about passed out, and that was before she even registered that they matched.

T’Challa couldn’t keep his jaw up to save his life. He already knew how gorgeous she was, but she had somehow gotten even more beautiful in 24 hours.

“Oh my Bast, how adorable?!” Kwame broke her from her daze.

Ashanti quickly grabbed her bag and hugged her roommates before pulling T’Challa out of the house.

“Sorry for rushing you, but they were absolutely going to do something embarrassing if we stayed any longer.” Ashanti reached to push her hair behind her ear, forgetting she had already pulled it back. “You uh- you look pretty alright today.”

T’Challa laughed and she nearly melted at the sound.

“Wow, I was going for ‘just ok’, but I have to say I like that you said I’m pretty.”

Ashanti playfully rolled her eyes and he placed his hand at the small of her back to lead her to his car.

“So where are you taking me?”

“It is a surprise.”

“Ok well, one thing you'll learn about me is I hate surprises.”

“You’ll survive without knowing for 15 more minutes, I promise Miss Ashanti.”

Something about the way he said her name made her go quiet. She wanted to hear it more often.

“I guess...so tell me about your day to distract me.”

T’Challa leaned back into his seat and let autopilot do the work.

“It was a normal day for the most part. Breakfast with my family followed by a tragically boring meeting with the council. Then I had to go visit the river and mining tribes. Lastly, I stopped by my sister’s lab for a while to see what she’s up to since she’s always tinkering around with something or creating amazing new inventions. I had to check in and see what’s new.”

“That sounds fun! The last part, not the other stuff.”

The king chuckled and reached for her hand.

“It was, but truthfully I was very distracted all day thinking of you.”

Ashanti’s voice caught in her throat.

Is he serious?

“Were you now…?”

“Yes, you seem to have made quite the impression on my subconscious.”

Ashanti tried to play it cool, but her guilty-looking face gave her away.

“What is it?”

“I may or may not have been thinking of you all day too.”

The two of them looked at each other and smiled. T’Challa’s eyes had just trailed down to her lips when the car announced their arrival. The king got out first and came around to open Ashanti’s door. He held out his hand and led her down a wooded path that was lit with tiny lights among the trees. The walk was short, and when they arrived at their destination Ashanti couldn’t believe her eyes.

Twinkling lights reflected off of a lake she had never seen. She turned to take in her surroundings and noticed the large border tribe blanket laid out on the ground and a covered basket overflowing with food. Ashanti was happy she wore flats.

“So I wasn’t sure what type of food you like, but I figured that since you were listening to music from outside Wakanda, you might enjoy foods from outside as well. I narrowed it down to one area though my first idea was to have food from all over, but thankfully my cousin talked me out of that one...”

T’Challa kept rambling as he began removing dishes from the basket and every last one made Ashanti’s stomach growl. She was starting to regret the bustier.

He pulled out jerk chicken, plantain, callaloo, and rice and peas. Next he pulled out some ackee and saltfish.

“This is usually for breakfast, but it’s my favorite meal of the day so I eat it whenever”

“Anyone who thinks breakfast isn't the best meal of the day deserves to be thrown off a cliff-”

She looked at the king.

“Too soon?” She asked sheepishly, hoping she didn't offend him.

“No, do not worry, it is fine. We have a better relationship now,” T’Challa chuckled. “And for the final touch, we have rum cake. I cheated and made it with Wakandan rum, but who is going to check me?”

Ashanti busted out laughing.

“Yes you hang around your American cousin a lot it seems, but more importantly you said you ‘made it’? Like you baked that cake? You, the king?”

“Yes. I love to cook, I just don’t have much time for it. I made all of this here for us to enjoy tonight.”

Ashanti had never had a man cook for her before, and certainly not on a first date. She hoped it was good because her poker face was shit and she didn’t want to have to hurt the king’s feelings. “Shall we?” T’Challa gestured towards the food and they both dug in.

Dinner was torture for T’Challa. Not only was she loving his food, but the noises she made while she enjoyed it made his dick harden. They made conversation and got to know each other better, scooting closer and closer to each other every time they had to shift to reach another item of food. They spoke about everything, finally landing on music. They tapped their kimoyo beads together, creating a playlist of both of their favorite songs for them to listen to as they continued to eat and talk.

“Oh my Bast, T’Challa this is so good. Where did you learn to cook like this? I assumed you had staff to do it for you.”

“We do, but when I was young I loved being with them in the kitchen so much they taught me how to cook.”

“This really is amazing, and I’m not just saying this because you're the king. I’ve never had someone cook for me like this, thank you.”

“Anything for you, Ashanti.”

He looked into her eyes and she blushed.

“So where exactly are we?”

“At a private lake near the palace. I come here often to relax and unwind, you should see it during the day.”

“You’ll have to bring me back, then.”

“That I will.”

“So, since this is a private lake it’s just us?”

“Well there are Dora Milaje out near the car, but yes it is just us.”

“And no crocodiles or hippos or anything like that…?”

T’Challa laughed.

“Do you really think I’d have you by predator-infested waters? You are safe here. Plus I am the Black Panther, you are safe wherever we go.”

“I like that…” Ashanti got lost in his lips, but got nervous and went back to her original thought. She knew how to shake herself out of her nerves. “So, since we’re alone and you're the only predator out here, let's go for a swim!”

“I will send the Dora for a change of clothes-”

“No need.”

T’Challa looked up and saw Ashanti in all her naked glory. She looked like Bast herself with her soft tummy and long thick legs. Her breasts bounced as she moved and her ass sat at the perfect height for him to grab onto. He tried to quiet the growl in his chest, but failed miserably.

“See something you like?”

T’Challa stripped faster than he ever had before and now it was her time to stand in awe. His rippling muscles almost made her heart stop, but it was the monster between his legs that turned her into a puddle.

“See something you like?”

Ashanti bit her lip and stared at him before turning around.

“Maybe if you can catch me,” she shouted before running into the lake.

Ashanti was a much better swimmer than T’Challa had assumed and he actually had to put in effort to catch up with her, but once he snagged her he immediately planted a kiss on her lips. He felt her body go slack as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, deeply.

Janelle Monae’s voice carried across the lake and into their ears as T’Challa kept them afloat while his tongue explored her mouth. Ashanti gripped his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. They pulled apart and looked into each other's eyes before laughing.

“Let's go somewhere I don't have to work so hard to keep us from drowning, eh?”

“Where do you have in mind?” Ashanti asked him while peppering his jawline with kisses.

But don't judge me I know I got issues But they drown when I kiss you Don't judge me Baptize me with ocean Recognize my devotion The water's perfectly good Let's reintroduce ourselves From a free point of view If I'm gon' sin, it's with you Tattoo your love on my heart Let the rumors be true. Even though you tell me you love me I'm afraid that you just love my disguise Taste my fears and light your candle to my raging fire The dirty desire But don't judge me I know I got issues But they drown when I kiss you Don't, don't judge me Baptize me with ocean Recognize my devotion What if I, what if, what if I touched you right there? Even though you say that you love me Is it me or do you love my disguise? If I missed you, would you think I was lonely If I say what's on my mind? Even though you say that you love me Is it me or do you love my disguise? If I kissed you, would you think I was lonely If I let you inside? Come, let me kiss you right there What if I kissed you right there? Would you tremble inside, or just call it a night? What if I gave you a show? You could touch if you like Right there If I kissed you would you think I was lonely? If I... It feels so good

Come, let me kiss you right there

Just say that you love me (just tell me you love me)

Next up:

Chapter 3

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa #t'challa fic #t'challa x oc #black!oc #playlist

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eagleconsumer · 6 months ago

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saileshjain · 9 months ago

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progressivepackaging · 3 months ago

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scumbagg · 5 years ago

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The Moonshiner

Summary: Ruby and Charles y’allllllll. This is their first time ever meeting.

Warnings: None, really! Slight bit of gore but it’s just pure drabble. Not even any fluff or angst.

Word count: 1,225.

Note: This is literally only the second thing I’ve ever written in my life. There might be more, who knows but This kept me up until 4am I literally could not sleep until I finished it

tagging @eddescuella @theunholyoutlaw @verai-marcel @r0xy-w0lf

Ruby sighs in relief as she pulls the wagon carefully to a halt outside Rhodes saloon, bottles clinking together in the back softly. The revenue agents had dropped off as she hit the outskirts of town, falling back after she had single-handedly shot down their comrades with her Lancaster repeater - which was now slung across her back, accompanied by her bolt action rifle. The saloon owner thanks her and hands her the money, signalling for two other men to help him unload the crates of moonshine from the wagon and take them inside. Ruby thanks the owner for the cash and heads inside the rowdy saloon for a drink.

The saloon is crowded tonight, the piano played surprisingly well in the corner by a man drunkenly slouched over the keys. Ruby recognises most of the faces in the room, being a regular patron and supplier for the past year. A group of four men sit at a booth by the front window, drinking and laughing loudly. Ruby recognises the man with light brown hair from around town with the drunken idiot the town calls a sheriff, but the other three are unfamiliar. Paying them no mind, she turns to the barman and orders a whiskey, throwing her head back and slamming the glass back down on the bar as she wipes her mouth and orders another shot.

As the barman passes her drink, she notices from her peripherals one of the men get up and head down the hallway to the back of the saloon. He’s a large brawny man, with dark skin, long hair sweeping down his back and scars swimming across his right cheek. Ruby tenses as he passes her, uncomfortable with having a stranger behind her.

She turns back to her drink, about to down it when a slimy voice grabs her attention from the other side of the bar. Two men dressed in ragged clothes had walked in, their hands on their grubby guns in their holsters.

“This here is Lemoyne Raider territory. You ain’t got no business here, moonshiner!” one of the men stalks over to her, his lips pulled back in a menacing grimace, revealing what blackened teeth remained in his mouth.

The piano stops playing from the corner as almost every eye in the bar is on Ruby and the Raiders.

“I sell to whoever’s buyin’,” Ruby answers non-chalantly into her glass. She throws her head back once more as she finishes her drink and turns back to the Lemoyne Raiders. “And it seems as though the owner of this saloon considers my ‘shine to be of better quality than yours… so I do in fact have business here... Raider.” Ruby smiles smugly into his grimy face.

“I think you should leave,” the man says menacingly, pulling his dirty cattleman from its holster.

A shot rings out, and the Raider falls backwards to the floor, a hole in his forehead and blood splattered on the wall behind him. The other man has his back against the wall, Ruby’s navy revolver under his chin, her other revolver aimed at the place his associate had just stood a moment before.

“No, I think it is you who needs to leave before you end up like your friend here,” Ruby threatens. She removes the gun from under his chin and steps back, allowing the man to straighten up enough for him to run from the saloon, the door swinging shut in the silence behind him.

“My apologies for the disruption” Ruby says to the room. She flicks a coin at the pianist. “Next round’s on me!” The room is filled with raucous cheers and the sound of the piano picks back up as two men carry the body of the Lemoyne Raider outside. Ruby turns back to the drink in front of her.

“That was impressive,” says a deep voice behind her. “You’re fast. I hope I never have to cross you in a bad mood.”

The man who passed her earlier on his way down the hall stands at the other end of the bar, surveying her humorously. He orders two drinks and slides one down the bar to her. Ruby catches it and nods, saluting the stranger with her glass as they both down their drinks at the same time.

“Let’s just hope both our guns stay in their holsters, then.” Ruby replies, eyeing the sawed off at his hip, still unsure of his intentions. Since the first stranger she’d trusted had caused the slash across her left eyebrow leaving her with a permanent scar, she was cautious to new people.

The man chuckles. “I don’t plan on using it against you, that’s for sure,” he says, noticing her eyes trail down to his hip. “Would you like to join my friends and I for a drink? The barman told us the moonshine here is the best around.”

Ruby lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Well, I’d hope it’s the best around. It’s my moonshine. And I’m fine right here, thanks.” She eyes the other three men suspiciously.

The stranger’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead in surprise. “You made this?”

“Well… I didn’t cook it, but I own the moonshine shack it’s cooked in. I co-own the business and pay for the ingredients and equipment.”

“Like I said before, impressive.”

Ruby smiles. “Thank you, Mr..?”

The stranger holds out his hand in greeting. “Smith. Ch-“

But the man’s words are cut off as a bullet breaks through a nearby window and whizzes by their heads, lodging into the wall behind Ruby. She jumps behind the bar, ducking as gunshots ring throughout the saloon and bullets fly. A dozen men run into the saloon as the patrons run for the exits.

“Looks like your friend brought back-up!” Mr Smith shouts from the cover of a nearby booth, firing his sawed off into the chest of a passing enemy.

“Ha! Nothing I can’t handle” Ruby calls back as two men burst through the saloon doors and crumple immediately from two of her bullets. She spots one of Mr Smith’s friends pistol whip a Raider while another sends a Raider flying back through a window. Ruby runs for the stairs, shooting another enemy along the railings above her, the man crumpling over the bars of the railing and hitting the floor below with a sickening thud. Mr Smith follows behind, shouting to his friends below.

“Arthur! John! Javier! Meet back at camp! Go! Go!”

The three men continue to shoot their way out of the saloon, more bodies hitting the floor as they make their exit. Ruby and Mr Smith fire more bullets at the unfortunate Raiders as they head for the double doors, exiting onto the outdoor balcony. Ruby whistles for her horse, grinning at the handsome stranger as Bones comes running from the darkness, waiting patiently below. Ruby climbs over the railing, holding onto the balcony behind her and balancing on the thin ledge.

“So, Mr Smith.. I don’t believe I ever caught your first name?” Ruby smiles over her shoulder.

“It’s Charles. Charles Smith.” he says.

“Well… see you ‘round, Charles Smith,” Ruby winks before jumping from the ledge, landing on Bones’ saddle below with a hard thud.

“Wait!” Calls Charles over the railing. “You didn’t tell me your name!”

Ruby laughs as she rides off into the night.

#ahhhhh pls be kind #i know its trash #im screm #ruby x charles #oc x canon #ruby cortez #charles smith #my oc #rdo oc #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 online #rdo #rockstar games #charles smith x female oc #charles smith x oc

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jasonmolding0 · 4 years ago

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queensdivas · 5 years ago

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Hidden Blade Chapter 1

Y’all I’ve been to excited for this because I loved this movie with a passion. (Nothing beats Bohrap btw but damn 6 Underground was awesome not just because of Ben. Though he really made the movie even better.) If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters please hmu!

Please enjoy and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter or one of my updates. I’m on a train ride to London from Edinburgh so it’s about five hours. I plan on getting a crap done this ride so you might be seeing multiple updates!

Enjoy!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Governments should always be in fear of who they govern over..those who are being governed should never be living in fear of who they are ruled over. Yet we live in a world where those in power abuse it badly so they can live the lavish life of the vices, greed, lust, and even the gluttony of having everything at their feet. Those who suffer under those sadly are living in a society in fear, hate, and uncertainty of whether they’ll be okay by the end of the day.

That’s where I come in.

You have to start somewhere small in order to cause a chain reaction. That lovely snowball effect. I start small by cutting off the suppliers resources, such as their plants, dirty shacks, and even the old warehouses. Once the resources are extinguished, I then move up to those in high up positions in order to really cause the rolling to begin.

Yet I was given an opportunity to do a little more good with a lot less strings attached. Who doesn’t love a little more freedom. But what I was offered was complete freedom and who wouldn’t want complete freedom.

You ever played the Assassins Creed games? I like to consider myself a walking version of that except no magical abilities, no special creed, or even a long line of ancestors that are meant to look similar and only the first three or four games nailed the similarities. Not the point. For those of you who’ve never heard of those games, imagine someone who's able to scale an entire flat building, stand on top of a metal cross, and even have some really cool equipment to help get the job done. We’ll be getting to those a little later.

My name is eight. The Assassin.

What’s the difference between a Hitman and Assassin you ask? One gets paid to do any form of killing for money, the other one does it for either political or religious reasons in this world of ours. But you both kill people? True. Never declared myself a saint anyhow in this world so shush! Story time!

I pulled up to one of the abandoned planes to turn off my 4runner and climb out. Love the whole abandoned airfield look for the hideout. Really gives that fast and furious sort of vibe. How many movies are in the series anyhow?

A ram truck came pulling up next to my 4runner as I began grabbing all my junk to hopefully store somewhere that was a little more secure than my new apartment here in California. Keeping a bunch of ropes, weapons, and my vast amount of foreign fruit would get me busted and I certainly love my Nectarine!

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one brought into this little adventure.” He appeared in front of me as I swung my duffle bag right on my shoulder. I closed the door as I turned to see him all dressed in american/military gear. An American soldier? Real power move.

“Glad to see we got ourselves a soldier. Eight.” I held my hand out to him as he shook it.

“Seven. At Least according to that dude.” He pointed as one came out of a tiny airplane and smiled.

“Weird to see you not looking like a GAP model.” He showed up at my apartment in Israel looking like he walked out of Sunday church for some god knows reason. At first I thought he was apart of Jehovah's witness but as you can see we’re about to kill some mother fuckers.

“Ah really funny. Come meet the rest of us oh so lovely fellow campers.” We walked into the base as a women with blonde hair was reading a map while another woman was reading what looked like some sort of medical book.

“Ladies this is seven and eight our newest batch of newbies. The one reading the map is two and in the cap is five. Not sure where the other two are but I imagine they’ll be showing up sometime soon.” I gave them a small wave as I put my bag on the ground next to the large table.

“Look who finally showed up. Four this is seven and eight our eyes from the sky.” He tossed his hoodie down on the table as he gave us a small smile. The last member came into the room which is what I’m assuming was three.

“There’s this trick that we all do to get through our day. We take a box and into that box, we place all the horrors of the world, all the wrongs humans do to one another. And then we close the box and pretend it doesn’t exist. Only some of us spend too much time inside the box. We’ve lost our ability to pretend. We know there’s too much unfinished business in this messed up world. Our job as ghosts is to do the dirty work the living can’t or won’t. And we do it from here. This is our haunted house. It’s a lot like the Batcave, except it’s nothing like the Batcave. Seven, eight. You’re dead. You’re gonna be restricted to cities that you’ve never visited before. People that you’ve never met. All of course your fellow ghost, none of whom you’ll know by name, only number, for safety, and so no one gets too close.” I mean. All we need is a butler, some random child to say “geez guys” and I think we would be set.

“So basically what we’re doing is a sense of a justice league but with no moral codes?” Asking as One nodded.

“Yes. Except Wonder Women uses guns and Batman is okay with killing people.” I..okay that works.

“Each one of us has our own little gifts we bring to the table and now that we’ve required you two, we now officially have a set team.”

“We’re like the A-Team but on steroids except Mr. T is this guy.” The Spainard commented as everyone just stared him down.

“In your vast dreams.” One commented.

“Will we be required to wear matching rings?” Asking which made I believe his name is four chuckle a little.

“Funny. Alright c’mon I wanna show you two something.” We all followed him into another room where a wall covered with nine pieces of paper with a single roman numerals on each one.

“This is our target hitboard. These nine fuckers have been placing too much shit inside the box. So now they answer to us. Target number one: this prick. The Dictator of Turgistan Roach Alimov.” I walked over to his photo and began studying the guy. Radiates small dick energy already from all the work I’ve done over there, kind of like Kim Jong-Un except he doesn’t flaunt his money.

“God I’m really craving french fries. Can we finish this over at Luckies?” I believe he’s three asked the group as I began walking past the other eight pieces of paper as I lightly saw their faces. Efrain Gracian. He runs the largest drug cartel in Mexico and has been killing a shit ton of innocent people in their villages. Oh my god they put Kim Jon-Un on their target list hell yeah.

“So we plan on just killing all these pricks because they keep shitting on their countries and the rest of the world?” Leaning against the wall facing them as one nodded.

“I say we finish this thing at Luckies. I’m really feeling a shitty beer to set the mood of introductions.” One began walking out of the fort as everyone else followed except for me as I looked at the wall again. Figured there would be less on the board in all honesty.

~~~

I slipped into the booth with myself facing the middle of the window and the inside of the restaurant, seven sitting to my left while four was on my right. To think that I’m now officially dead and I cut all my ties off when I left home so no funeral. Bet they thought I was already dead anyhow so this works nicely.

“So what do you bring to the table?” I was asked as I tossed my car keys on the table.

“The soundless steps of a killer is what I bring to the table. You guys make a shit ton of noise if I think I know who you are. I’m assuming you guys we’re the one destroying Florence?” His eyes widened a little which makes my assumption correct cause these fuckers really had fun in Florence.

“Florence was an absolute disaster.” He stopped talking as the waiter came to the group.

“A round of Heineken for everyone. Then whatever else they want.” I ordered as everyone smiled a little as they began ordering their preferred drinks.

“Figured you’d be a good match since you graciously just bought us all drinks. So if you’re a soundless killer, who have you eliminated?” You can thank the new democracy in South Sudan, and ending an entire sex trafficking operation in Chad. Both we’re super difficult to achieve but damn I did an awesome job. Both were run by major cunts obviously and took months of planning to even get close to them.

“Who do you think got rid of the cunt from South Sudan?” Seven looked over at me then leaned across the table.

“You killed Zafir Bahri?” Seven asked as I nodded.

“Yup. Yet it was one of my most difficult assassinations since I had to make a break for it in the countryside. Kind of stuck out like a sore thumb till I made it to a reservation station.” The waitress came with the first round of beers. Four took a big gulp of his beer then sighed.

“Alright if we’re going to show off what our past selves have done. I got the chance to steal a 5.0 carat ruby necklace that had two smaller diamonds that were about 4.2 carats that was about 100,000 dollars worth.” Yet he’s sitting here in an American restaurant drinking some shitty beer and eating high heart attack food? Sounds about right.

“And here you are in America drinking Heineken and about to eat a very greasy double cheeseburger. Cheers” I grabbed my bottle as he did for us to clink our bottles together. Four seems super chill actually and now I’m kind of curious how he pulled off that heist.

“So. What’s the absolute best thing about being dead? I mean you don’t have to pay taxes anymore.” Seven asked the entire group as they all had an inner conversation with themselves about the best part of being deceased.

“No more dmv lines, no more shopping for Christmas.” Christmas has always been stressful for my old life and I didn’t even celebrate it!

“Or backstabbing girlfriends.” Raising my eyebrow at four. Damn someone broke his little heart. I’d play the worlds saddest song on the tiniest violin but not sure if he would get the reference.

“They should make an “Out of office” reply for dead people. Sorry I’m away from the planet right now. I’m fucking dead.” That’s a bit much but if it makes her feel better about being dead then let her do her own thing.

“No more tax, no more criminal records, no more getting arrested by the pigs just for being naked and or just the usual stuff. You know, being naked, getting drunk. Casual stuff.” How is being naked casual? Since when is being naked considered casual in any standard?

“Umm. How is being naked any form of being casual?” He took a drink of his beer as he licked his lips.

“Ya know. Just walking around naked on your balcony or even on your front porch. It’s a casual thing.” I..I still don’t see that as a casual thing. Around the house yes because oversized t-shirt and underwear is always a comfy.

“Is that like when Jersey people say it’s a jersey thing?” Before he could answer One chuckled a little.

“Guys. You’re all wrong. The best thing about being dead is the freedom. I mean, we’re all gonna die. May as well do it while we’re alive, right? When you’re young, you lock yourself into all of these bad decisions. Marriages, mortgages, and all that kind of stuff. But you die. It’s all escaped. Poof! Gone! From that point forward, all that matters is what you choose. The point is that we should bring seven and eight behind the curtain. You wanna hand me those over there?” Three handed him a bunch of plastic cups as leaned a little more forward on the table. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see him quickly glancing away back at the demonstration. Guess he’s kind of cute, not exactly sure how getting involved with people on the team is viewed. Rather avoid the whole situation.

“Alright here. A little deminsation, no technology. So this is how to stage a coup in three not so easy steps. Alright you got a country, Turgistan right? These are the people, nice people, going about, doing their thing. Then you got the four generals, cuatro cunts, very bad guys. But there’s one worse guy. That’s the piece of shit dictator, right there at the top.” Sounds about right. That was basically the entire set up in South Sudan.

“Don’t forget his brother.” Brother? Oh yeah, the guy has a brother that basically has been isolated or off the face of the earth at this point. Gotta love it when Governments hide those wanting a better world, or hiding sick pedophiles when they fake suicides so they don’t go to prison or end up being executed.

“Democracy loving brother.” So we’ve got a shitty dictator and a loving democratic. Of freakin’ course!

“He’s the key. So we’re gonna hit the four generals. They’re gonna lead us to the brother.”

“You kill top Generals, you fuck the dictators day.” Three shoved a few French fries in his mouth.

“Can confirm.” I took a big gulp of my beer as I leaned back against the booth.

“Second thing we're gonna do is free the brother. And the last thing we’re gonna do is we’re gonna say goodbye to piece of shit dictator and hello to democracy loving brother.”

“It all goes down in four months, El Dia de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead.” Kinky.

“Oh that’s it?” Seven and I looked at each other for the both of us to nod in approval of the plan.

“Um well that’s pretty simple ya know. The cups.” I took a drink of my beer as I began mentally seeing the whole plan in my head.

“Wonderful presentation.” We’re gonna die aren’t we?

“So we’re all gonna die?” At this point I say that’s a hard yes.

“Not me.” What confidence she has because there’s something about her that just kind of scares the shit out of me. Must be something federal in her former life.

“She’s not, we all are. Painfully.” Peachy. Real fucking peachy. But hey I’m already technically dead so this works out perfectly in the end. Just when my body shows up at someones house or is found floating on the coast, going to be quite a headache trying to figure out since I’m already dead.

Maybe I should be more optimistic with this new life. Could be worse. I could be stuck in a work camp in Siberia. Maybe we just see where this goes and if it doesn’t end well I just disappear into the unknown. Sounds like an absolute plan!

Taglist:

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @imjustboredso @intoanothermind @4lendow-norris @wickedholland

@takemetoneverland420 @art-flirt @intoanothermind @raylan-c

#6 Underground #6 Underground Four #6 Underground Billy #Ben Hardy 6 Underground #6 Underground Fic #6 Underground fan fic #Four x Reader #Four/Billy x reader #Four/Billy #Ben Hardy #Ben Hardy x reader #Billy x reader

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nickgerlich · 4 years ago

Text

Seeing Red

Supply chain problems continue to bedevil America. This last weekend, I needed some new water bottles and innertubes for my bike. I thought this would be an easy acquisition on my way to the grocery, so I pulled in to a shop, only to see what looked like a retail ghost town.

They had about a dozen classic bikes hanging from the wall, but not a single new bike to offer customers. I asked if they had what I needed, and was told with a sad face that, while they had some insulated bottles, they did not have any tubes in my size. I wisely grabbed them, and then headed off to another bike shop, hoping things would be better there.

I entered that second shop and discovered the same dearth of bicycles. Nothing. Nada. Zip. But they did have the tubes I needed. I started up a little conversation with the owner, who went off on a tangent about how difficult things have been, and that his biggest problem right now is that none of his suppliers had bicycle chains.

I sped off to do my grocery shopping, feeling lucky to have gotten what I needed, and happy that I didn’t need to replace my chain. Unknown to me, though, is that an even larger shortage is being felt by nearly everyone: single-use ketchup packets. And as it turns out, Heinz, with the largest share of the ketchup business in the US, still hasn’t been able to figure out how to solve the problem.

If you have been out to eat during the pandemic, either indoor or drive-thru, or had your food delivered by Door Dash, perhaps you have noticed they aren’t handing out the wad of ketchup packets like they once did. You’re lucky if you get two, which is really worse than none, because too little ketchup is a cultural insult.

Face it. We Americans love our red and dark brown sauces. Ketchup. BBQ sauce. Sweet-and-sour-sauce. We can’t eat dinner without drowning our food with something deeply colorful. Maybe it’s because we’re also sugar fiends, these sauces all loaded in gum-tingling sweetness. Go to China, and you will see that they don’t use sweet-and-sour sauce like we find at buffets here. And trust me, Chinese food over there is so much better that you don’t want to disguise the flavor with anything.

But I digress.

The key problem is that, during the pandemic, our use of ketchup changed. Restaurants hid their ketchup bottles to try to control for germ transmission, for which I applaud. I had never considered it before, but going into the post-pandemic, I won’t be so quick to reach for shared condiment containers. Instead, demand spiked for single-use packets, which are admittedly a lot more expensive by the ounce than those shared bottles, but that’s how things had to be done.

Oddly enough, it’s not like we cannot find the tomatoes with which to make the ketchup. Those are sourced primarily from Central California. It’s just that Heinz has been unable to keep up with this tidal shift in packaging demand. The result is that you either have to carefully aim your fry to dip into a little dollop that is only visible under a microscope, or just eat your fries dry, the way that God may really have intended.

Meanwhile, I’m happy to still be able to go for my bike rides. I just hope my chain doesn’t break.

Dr “Ketch Me If You Can“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #Heinz #ketchup #shortage #restaurants #fast food #pandemic

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youarejesting · 5 years ago

Text

BTS365

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

Announcement: 600+ followers and I’m sorry to how dark some of these got but you know I kind of like when stories don’t always have a happy ending.

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March 25th - April 1st

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Kim Seokjin: Makeup

Heading into work you had a headache, it was excruciating, the throbbing behind your eye and the tightness around your temples. Your face felt swollen, and you packed on as much makeup as physically possible and you knew it wasn’t a good look. There were no lashes or mascara, no eyeshadow, no lipstick. Just concealer and foundation to the max.

You stepped into work and the receptionist gave you a weird look, usually; you got compliments when you wore makeup; you were pretty good and knew what worked well on your face. But today you looked strange. Your eye was too swollen to put anything near it and so you just looked like a one tonne alien.

“Hey babe, what’s going on?” A voice said, “you bailed on our movie night last night and didn’t even text me?” Seokjin was your saviour he made your dull job manageable. He took one look at you and froze he knew this wasn’t right. “What did he do?”

“It’s not that bad it’s just a bump”

He dragged you by the hand to his desk taking his face wipes from the first draw he tried to grab your chin, but you turned away. “Please let me see” he gently wiped away all the makeup he liked when you had a clean face. It was like he was seeing the real you, that isn’t to say he didn’t like when you dressed up, he liked how you could accentuate your eyes and lips.

But this, this was wrong. He felt sick, the more he removed the more the colours were revealed dark purples and blues stained your smooth skin, there was a small scab on your cheekbone where the skin had split on impact. He shoved the packet of wipes into your arms and turned declaring. “I will kill him”

Min Yoongi: On a stick

“It’s just meat on a stick?” You rolled your eyes at your best friend who was being lured from his apartment from his roommate Jungkook. You had planned to spend the afternoon together where you were going to tell him how you feel about him finally after all these years. Hell, you even stood by him when he dated girls through high school even though it nearly killed you.

“Yeah, why do you make it sound like a bad thing?” Yoongi scoffed grabbing his jacket, “Come along we can get some food and come back and watch the movie”

“Look you don’t have to come, we don’t need haters ruining our dinner” Jungkook sighed grabbing his keys, and you reluctantly slipped on your shoes and coat running after them. You didn’t even order before you snapped.

“Jungkook what is your problem with me, I just wanted to spend the afternoon with my best friend and maybe tell him that I have been in love with him since fifth grade and you’re out here making me feel like absolute trash,” You hissed Yoongi was frozen starring at his menu. He looked like he was deep in thought. Realizing what you said and how he had reacted to your blunt and unexpected confession you left.

“y/n!” Jungkook shouted he caught you quickly “hey, dude I am sorry, I thought you liked me and I was trying to push you away because… Yoongi likes you, said he has liked you since fifth grade and has never wanted to ruin the friendship. I really am sorry, go back inside he is in shock and is silently freaking out that he will never see you again. Lunch is on me, here”

Jung Hoseok: Smoke and Mirrors

Your son wanted to be a magician, and you spent a fair amount of money on all the books and toys and such but as his passion grew so did the hole in your bank account. You bought him front row tickets to see a world-renowned magician live on stage. It was an amazing performance. The magician was very good looking and was so bright and bubbly he danced he made all the sound effects. Your son insisted you see him backstage, and you took him back there. It took a long time but your son refused to leave. The dressing room door opened and there he was, his shirt buttons undone slightly.

“Why hello, who do we have here?” he smiled at you and your son and you gave him an apologetic smile

“I am so sorry to bother you, my son, he is an aspiring magician and well he wanted to meet you and I really couldn’t say no to at least trying”

“No, don’t apologize,” he looked at his watch and grinned, “I got time, come in and sit and tell me about yourself. What’s your name? Do you know any tricks?” The two talked until your son had fallen asleep on the couch.

“Whatever you did, that’s real magic right there,” The two of you laughed.

“Do you need help to your car, he looks a little heavy, or I can carry your bags if that’s more comfortable for you,” He smiled and the two of you headed to the parking lot. Buckling your son into the passenger seat, you turned to say goodbye, and he swept his hand behind your ear. “It seems my number was behind your ear this whole time”

He placed the paper into your hand and gave you a grin, one hand slipping into his pocket to find his keys and the other waving goodbye.

Kim Namjoon: Walk in the Park

Namjoon was a smart man, he knew everything that happened in the neighbourhood. The street lights along the park path flickered off for twenty seconds every three minutes. The old lady Lady by the store shut her curtains at 6:15 exactly after watching her shows and feeding her cat. The walk through the park took Five minutes exactly, and that there were three security cameras on the path.

People were going missing and were usually found dead days later. He set off on his usual walk at 6:00 heading to the store; he stopped to pat the cat and waved to the old woman. He bought a single bottle of Soju as he did every night. Explaining how he had to get home before his slow cooker was finished, showing the timer on his phone. “It’s got 8 minutes left I should make it home by 6:15”

Walking he saw you alone, he sped up a little and matched your stride. “Don’t look now but there is a drunk man a little way ahead, and the path lights are switch off for about thirty seconds every three minutes” Just as he finished his sentence the lights switched off. You grew stiff under the moonlight. “I am Namjoon”

He continued walking talking to you about the stars, the old lady was feeding her cat before bed, it was 6:10 she would soon close her curtains. He waved to the old and then to you. Thanking him for the help you both parted ways saying goodnight to the old lady. Namjoon smiled to himself walking out of the camera frame and the lights flickered out. You walked hesitantly in the dark but didn’t get very far before you were knocked out from behind.

Chained to an old metal bed frame when you woke, your eyes needing time to refocus you saw Namjoon standing there in a white coat. “Shh it’s okay, you are okay, you see I am an expert. My alibi and the camera footage, I just picked you up and tipped you over the stonewall of this apartment block and walked home. As all footage and security cameras show me parting ways with you even the old lady saw you go off on your own, nobody knows. Nobody knows that is is me”

Park Jimin: Burn

You opened a sealed box, and you read the stupid script. You were using it as a chance to practice your reading and speaking Korean. But you had let it out, and it was chasing you. Its eyes blacked out and horns coming out from his hair. He looked eerie and was still recovering strength which gave you time to run hiding in a church.

Stopping at the door it watched you and you were relieved until it reached in blackened nails gripping the door frame. It stepped inside calling your name sweetly, you could see the embers flaking off its body slowly not enough to kill it but enough to annoy.

You ran hiding in the confession booth your breathing was shaky. It sang a haunted tune. Its voice layered a low sound that crackled and a high breathy sound like a whine. You held your breath as it passed, calling your name. You thought it was gone, but you didn’t want to take any chances.

You opened your phone the words you had spoken in the translator the demon's name was Jimin and upon searching the name you found it was a demon of Lust, Deception, Chaos and Misfortune. It resides in the third outermost circle of hell with Preceding Taehyung and following from Namjoon. The strongest demon being Kim Seokjin.

A hand busted through the wall of the confessional by your head and wrapped around your throat pulling you threw the thin and shattered wall.

Kim Taehyung: Battery

You forgot to plug your phone in the night before so you charged it while you got ready; it was only at 28% and you sighed heading out to work. You met a client and discussed his hotel remodelling.

Your phone which you had turned off when you weren’t using it at work was now at 16%. It was early in the afternoon and you were emailing a client important information and rushing across town to meet with a supplier. You crossed the road getting hit with a car laying in the rain you found it hard to breathe all the air seemed to have escaped your body. Dragging your arm across the concrete your phone held tightly in your fist you pressed the numbers for emergency services you hit the call button when your phone powered down.

A face appeared about you looking horrified he called the ambulance shaking there was a light behind his head. It seemed like a halo and he was your very own angel.

Jeon Jungkook: Beach @live-2-fangirl

The beach was quiet; it was overcast and occasionally would sprinkle with rain. You were never deterred, and this weather was better for churning up the sea and creating a few gnarly waves. You laughed at the expression gnarly and swore on your life never to think nor speak it ever again. Getting on your surfboard you swam out to sea it was incredibly exhilarating weaving across the water.

The water grew unforgiving in what seemed like a second pulling you out and you were dunked by a wave and tossed around. You didn’t panic swimming to the light. Breaking the surface, you blinked the saltwater from your eyes and tried to get it out your nose and throat. It was brighter than you remembered. Maybe there was a break in the clouds.

“Can we be of aid lad?” A voice called you looked up to see an old wooden shop, the kind that looked like it belonged in a Johnny Depp quintology of films. Leaning over the side of the ship was a young man, his hair shaggy hair falling forward as he looked down at you. Your wetsuit removed any femininity from your figure and your hair was in a very messy bun. You climbed up the rope ladder on the side of the ship as you didn’t see any signs of your beach anywhere.

It was so sunny with not a cloud in the sky. Did you die? Getting up onto the ship you laid your board down on the deck removing the surf leash from your ankle.

“Where be your port?” He asked they all looked like they were fresh out of a romance novel with billowing shirts and shaggy hair.

You ripped the velcro around your neck and pulled the zip down your back. Peeling the wetsuit of your arms until they were free, letting out your hair shaking it with your fingers hoping it wouldn’t take long to dry. Some of your swimsuit was on display and as you went to take the wetsuit completely off a long waistcoat was draped over your shoulders.

“My apologies, my lady, we will fetch you some dry clothes,” you shrugged his coat off onto the deck.

“No, need I will be dry soon” you continued to strip, and he unbuttoned his shirt and fastened it around you buttoning it up.

“These scallywags cannot be trusted with a beautiful woman like yourself” he smiled “you are as tempestuous as the waters we sail”

Next Week

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