#Tube mill Rolls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prncssie · 1 month ago

Text

TWO ⎯⎯ ★ s. ryomen m. list

content warning minors and trump supporters do not interact. neither are welcome here. in this specific chapter, it gets suggestive towards the end but there is no on page smut. you can expect consensual groping in a public setting and "dick" is written once. also, the bouncer is described as creepy and acts as such but his appearance is short

WHEN I GROW UP

you thought when you strolled through the glass doors of an acting agency, — a grand building lined with glass walls, allowing the sunlight to filter into the lobby — you’d be greeted with warm smiles and maybe even a mint. this is not what you were expecting. it smells clean, citrusy, like fresh squeezed lemons and pine. the hardwood flooring, tan and matte, are smooth beneath your new balances. it’s nearly glittering a pathway guiding you to the front desk. your resume, shielded behind the manilla folder, is tucked tightly to your chest. you’ve even worn your best off-duty outfit, aiming for something simple to show off your spark. a black tube top and black jeans, perfect for forcing focus to your face full of sweet features, dollike and docile enough to render a certain impression on camera, you hope.

“hi,” you speak soft at first, a smile gracing your mouth when the receptionist lifts her head. “yeah, um, my name is ⭐︎ and i heard you had an open call today.” you can’t help the way your shoulders inch up towards your ear, a subconscious way of making yourself smaller, biting away at the ball of white hot nervousness rolling in the base of your tummy. “i was hoping to get in on that.”

it’s a shame her blonde bun is pulled so tight, straining what little polite receptors she has in her system because all the receptionist does is size you up with so much of a twitch of her glossed lips. she doesn’t smile when she slaps the clipboard atop the reflective material of the black desk. “sign here,” for a millisecond, if you'd even count it that, her lips pull tight upwards before she’s returning to whatever she was doing before, nails clacking against the keyboard. “head down that hall to the left. they’ll give you a number. wait for it to be called.”

as soon as you’re finished scribbling the black gen pen down on the white sheet, boxes full of signatures, pages stacked on over the other, she takes it back with a flat palm, dragging it over the open space. “break a leg.” and then it’s as if you were never there. you fade into the background. perhaps in her eyes, you’ve dissipated into light particles. “thanks so much,” is all you can say, lifting your eyebrows with an unamused grin, “brenda.” you catch her name off the nameplate as you leave.

this has to be normal, right? it’s not like hospitality comes with the service, if you can even call it that. people are snobby, thinking their proximity to the stars gives them some sort of privilege or immunity. sure, you wouldn’t normally take such disrespect or disregard for you as a person but maybe you could consider it as a good thing. a blessing in disguise, a side effect of success. this is the closest you’ve been to being in something bigger than yourself, an open call for anything other than a commercial for whole milk or sponsorship from some website.

you have to believe it. otherwise . . .

down the hall and the left, right? you couldn’t miss it if you tried. the bodies milling about give enough clue as to what was going on, numbers taped and pinned to shirts, pants, skirts. the jitters that you swallowed, or tried to, threaten to break free, itching just below the surface of your skin. your mouth is dry but far too wet at the same time. are you drooling? but when your hand lifts to your lips, disguised as checking for lipgloss rolling too far out of place, you don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. still, with each step closer to the check-in table, your brain cannot stop formulating new possibilities of embarrassment. you could trip, you could forget your lines, you could throw up. none of it’s helping, especially when they’re looking at you with such expecting gazes. getting the number is the easy part, though. all you have to do is write your name down and pick it up. alike many of the others, you opt to tape it, pressing the sticky adhesive into the denim of your pants.

you find yourself in your own desolate space in the hallway, stuck between warm bodies rehearsing their lines and casting sparing glances at the competition around them. you’re unsure where to look. there’s nothing particularly beneficial about staring down the other wannabe actors around you but the idea of focusing so hard on the tiling doesn’t seem too idealistic, either. you’ve always been told it’s best to stand tall anyway, pushing an aura of confidence, even if it’s fake.

and so you do for as long as you stand there. you push your shoulders back and force all that tension between your shoulder blades, straightening your posture for as long as the situation demands. evidently, until your casting is over and you get to return home.

it’s a slow process, slower than you think it would be. you were sure when you left work a few hours ago that you’d have enough time to rinse the smell of fryer grease and burgers off your skin — you’ve since replaced it with silky strawberry lotion and powdery vanilla perfume — and arrive with more than enough time to spare. of course, you did hope it wouldn’t take too long, maybe an hour or two to finish the whole thing. however, when you pull your phone out of your little black prada shoulder bag, you learn that more than three hours have passed.

that’s a ridiculous amount of time to stand, waiting as others go into that room and leave with smiles on their faces or tears in their eyes. sometimes, they don’t have an expression at all. they simply open that heavy door and wander down the hallway, leaving an air of mystery as to what could have happened. you like to fantasize, making up stories about each person and what they could have possibly done to fail. it’s your only entertainment, one that sends you into a trance-like state as you watch and eye each passerby.

it works for a while, dulling your boredom while you wait for your turn. you would have missed the sudden whispery uproar if it weren’t for the girl beside you. her hair brushes against your arm when she turns her head to whisper to the person next to you. instinctively, you cover the tickled area with your palm and look over, bringing your attention closer to the chatter. it’s bit unexpected how suddenly it rises. in just a few minutes, the dull crowd, tired of standing and waiting, begins to buzz with excitement. around you, people whisper, eyes gawking and following figures moving through the hall.

at first glance, it doesn’t take you long to identify just who is attracting all this uproar. even if people weren’t damn near pointing at the hulking figure disregarding his attention, you’d recognize him regardless. it’s hard to miss the dyed pink hair, black roots peaking just below the tufts. his undercut is just as crisp as the pictures, fresh from recent maintenance. there’s a smirk tugging at his lips, arrogant and knowing, like all the attention he’s receiving simply strokes his ego, filling up his head with pride. he walks in a saunter, fingers wrapped around his phone and tilting his head in the onlookers direction. you can get glimpses of his iconic black gel polish, catching the glimmer of the overhead lighting.

sukuna ryomen, one of the greatest stars in the industry at this very moment. the it boy, the icon, the muse of most directors. you could be seeing too far into things when he passes you, but for a second, when your eyes make contact, there’s a particular . . . tension. perhaps you’re imagining it, a warped notion in your head that blended reality with fantasy, but his eyebrows furrow, just slightly. they twitch, jumping upwards before letting you become one with the rest of his admirers.

“ – role in another movie,” it’s a whisper coming from beside you, a comment made in his wake, after he had already made his appearance and left a notable impact. “that’s what i heard, at least. i think it’s a thriller. some psychological shit.”

a thriller? the sukuna ryomen in a thriller? it’s been a while since there’s been a movie you’be been genuinely excited to see but the prospect of such a big name with an equally big aura taking on a role like that? you’re already itching with anticipation at the thought. you wish you could be there, watch him rehearse his lines, see how he prepares for the role. there’s endless lessons you an take out of his book but you’ll never have the chance. not as long as you’re just someone auditioning and he’s at the top of the ranks.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ★

“no, cherry. i’m not getting the role.” you’re shoving airpods into your ears as you dejectedly make your way out the building. you pull your bag even farther on your shoulder, ignoring the harsh squeals your shoes make when you don’t entirely lift them off the ground. it’s what they deserve anyway, this whole company, after throwing you to the side like that. it contrasts with the clicks of heels and draws judging glares towards you but you ignore them. they’re nothing and they mean nothing after setting up such a massive event, one that you spent weeks preparing for, just for it to be pointless. “turns out, they already had someone in mind. it’s such —,” you pause, just long enough to step outside the glass doors, “such bullshit.”

“aw, honey,” her sweet southern drawl does little to comfort you as warm as it is. if anything, the empathy dripping from it riles you up further. she means well, truly. cherry is as disappointed as you are. in the short span of working together, she’s become something of a confidant, the only person who knows your goals of reaching the stars. it’s not a secret you hold close to your heart for any particular reason. it’s just . . . well, it’s just this. no one wants people to know about their setbacks. you wouldn’t find any joy in sharing your worst failures.

cherry is different, though. she’s kind about it. she has a big heart, keeping in negative comments she might have to herself. besides, cherry has a dream, too, to walk in fashion week. it was a drunken confession, sitting on the floor of your studio apartment after consuming enough white wine to send you both into fits of giggles. you considered it a housewarming.

“how do you know that? did they tell you?” she has to raise her voice over the beeping fryer alarm and the rustling around her. of course in normal cherry fashion, she picks up the phone during work hours when business is slow and she has time to waste.

“they don’t have to tell me for me to know.” you want to press your hands into your eyes, perhaps lay down beneath your sheets and hide away from the world until the fury building inside withers away. “i went in there and did my audition. they were all like ‘oh, ⭐︎, you did so good. you look so cute on camera, you’re so talented’,” you raise your voice a couple octaves to mock the casting directors, rolling your brown eyes in tandem with your words. “that’s not what they actually said but whatever. the point is, some girl walks in and they’re all over her.”

you click your tongue in a fluid motion, scrolling through the app library in search of whichever rideshare app you’ve downloaded since moving out here. with what little income you make, there’s no way you’ll be able to afford a car for the next couple of months, or even years in this economy. a ten minute ride back to your home is nothing compared to the cost of car payments and gas. “i’ve never seen her before, which is the crazy part. i don’t remember what they said her name was. edamame, uraume, whatever the fuck.”

“wait, no. i’ve heard of that name before. i’m pretty sure she was in that show with that guy.” for a moment, you hear her pause, presumably directing her attention to someone else. “yeah, honey. i’ll be right with you, m’kay? listen, ⭐︎, i gotta go, but i’ll see you tonight. we’re still on for tonight, right? i’ll take you out to this place i know. you’ll love it. i hear lotsa famous people go there. maybe you’ll meet someone who can get you a fancy role.”

your eyes settle on the dark colored sedan underlined with an identifying combination of letters and numbers. it’s only a couple dollars and you have the money to spare. you didn’t feel particularly inclined to walk those couple blocks, anyway. you find her words sort of . . . comforting, now. as optimistic as such a small possibility seems, the idea of simply running into someone worthwhile all while dancing the night away excites you. as unlikely as such an easy shortcut to success is, you still consider the small chance to be a chance at all.

“yeah, okay,” you respond with a distant sounding voice as you navigate through the nine dollar payment. it takes a few seconds for the screen to reload, proposing you begin to make your way to the pickup location. “i’ll see you later.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ★

the club cherry took you to, it’s everything and nothing you expected it to be at the same time. you scrolled through pictures of the three story building on google reviews while cherry showered, filling up the small confines of her bathroom with steam and the scent of dove cucumber body wash; she insisted on you getting ready at her place after seeing the lackluster apparel hanging in your closet. you didn’t think they were that bad and yet, she parroted on and on that the bouncer would not let you in the clothes you planned on wearing. and she was right, he wouldn’t. here he stood, scrutinizing and slightly predatory gaze across each clubgoer. he took his time with the women, eyebrow quirking when someone particularly piqued his interest. gross, but expected.

it’s just as lively as you thought it would be, people milling around the entrance with id in hand. occasionally, the cars driving by would slow down and glance at the pedestrians, some gathered in groups and drunkenly skipping down the pavement. the lights are flashy, the people are giggly. it's exactly as a club scene should be. the only thing that’s missing is . . . well, the music.

you make note of it as you stand in line, arms wrapped around your body and shifting your weight from leg to leg. there’s no music, at least none you can hear. back in your little town closer to the rural edges of the countryside, you spent quite enough time at the club. you treated it as your own personal spotlight, finding great fun in putting on different personas to enchant men for the night. it could be considered where your love for acting really started, or maybe not. maybe you just sound crazy.

“okay, when we get up there,” cherry leans into you, ducking her head to get her words more clearly heard in your ear. she’s already a couple inches taller than you and with the heels on her black boots pushing her up, those inches became more than just a couple, “don’t say anythin’. well, you can speak but i’ll handle most of it. mike is real fickle. he likes to flirt with the girls and if you don’t make him happy, you don’t get in.”

“you brought me to a place where the girls are forced to be creeped on by the bouncer for admission?”

cherry clicks her tongue at your words. she follows the flow of the line and takes a step forward, momentarily looking over her shoulder to meet your eyes. “sometimes he doesn’t make us pay.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ★

you’re drunk. you don’t have to ask someone to know. there’s no need for a breathalyzer, no need to hang of cherry’s shoulder and smile that pink-lipped, sugar-coated, loopy smile. the confirmation is in the way you walk. it’s in your tingling hands and your tingling lips. it’s in your airy laughter and your slurred words as you teeter across the dance floor. it’s in the way you sit now, perched on the edge of a chair and drunkenly kissing . . . someone. a girl, a guy, you don’t know. it wouldn’t make any difference really.

they’re probably just as drunk as you are, hands gripping and pulling at your dress, or rather the dress you borrowed. in the back of your mind, you’re scowling and making note to check for snags later, considering how ungracious they’re being. so much so that you’ve been tasked with the responsibility of tugging your dress up every so often as the constant threat of your boobs slipping out.

you’re not enjoying this, not as much as you want to be. you’re meant to loosen up, get out there, “make connections, whatever that means to you”, as cherry said in her honeyed dialect. that’s what you hoped to do, connect your mouth to another’s in a way that enthralled you in a more lustrous way, with tensions that weigh heavy in a bubble that surrounds you and makes you hungry for more.

you kind of sit there while they begin to mouth along your jawline with more tongue than you prefer. the distaste hits you strong enough you to put your hands on their shoulders after minutes of kissing starving lips. with a firm grasp, you push just slightly, politely even. you still give them that drunken smile even with the sudden detachment and rise to your feet. the base of your shoes knock against the metal leg of the chair and you stumble a few steps on your way up. “i will be right back.” you doubt your voice carries over the bass-boosted music. the beat alone vibrates the floor and rattles your brain in your skull. you both know this isn’t true, or at least you know and that’s enough for you. your toothy smile is concealed as your face falls to rest and you turn, purposefully taking a winding route through the crowd.

you lost cherry a while ago. in retrospect, she’s a bit of a terrible friend for vanishing like that so suddenly with the assumption that you’d be fine. the fault really lied in the decision that you should both drink tonight, as if two wasted girls were ever a good idea. however, it’s too late to be playing the blame game. you’re already taking wobbly strides under the strobe lights while a mixture of house and electronic plays in the background. there’s no real destination you’re heading towards. you follow the movement of the crowd, swaying and leaning. left, right, left, right.

in the moment, staying just where you are is appealing. it calls to you like a siren’s song, begging and pleading with you to stay. have another drink, kiss someone else, live under the colored lights. before you know it, you’re dancing to the music. it’s not what you’d typically listen to but when you’ve had this many shots in those cute little glasses, anything will do. your eyes are still closed as you dance, pulling moves from your mental catalog of video vixens and pop icons. it’s a mess, a flurry of arms and legs. your hair becomes an accessory, an extension of yourself, an object of seduction when you brush it out your face. your hips find the beat with ease and you find enjoyment in being alone, despite knowing you probably should be apprehensive.

it doesn’t take long before there’s a hand settled on your hip, hovering at first, waiting for permission to make contact with your skin. you spot it somehow in your drunken haze and take a hold of it without hesitation. you stamp the hand against your hip, ruffling the dress you adorn beneath their light hold. you only have a short moment to glance over your shoulder and assess the stranger you have welcomed into your one person party. he’s a pleasing sight, although slightly obscured by the blinding overhead lighting, constantly moving and flashing shades of blue, purple, and red. you catch tufts of black and pink lips upturned into a smirk.

it’s good enough for you so you turn and bend at the waist, dipping your head and letting your soft curls toss over your crown. you push the clothed and plush fat of your ass against the stiff fabric of this stranger’s jeans. you both move in an enthralling whirl. you just, met, or rather just become aware of each other’s presence, but somehow you mesh together in a balanced blend of bodies and flirtatious glances.

his hand is firm on your chest. he can feel the warmth of your bare skin where the dress leaves you exposed. he’s pleased to discover he can also feel the swell of your breasts and where they begin to deviate from your otherwise leveled skin. he has to bend at the waist to get to you, but once he does, you’re back to standing, chest to back and a grin on your face. his breath is hot on your ear and his voice is deep. it warms your drunken insides like a warm cider, thoroughly spiced. “are you here with someone?”

your feet tangle with themselves as you turn to face him. you’re careful, slow, calculating each step and maintaining your balance with a strong grip of his forearms. you squeeze and hum at the strong muscle relaxed beneath. “maybe, probably. if she’s still here.” you’re moving again, languidly resting your arm over his shoulder. “what’s your name?” you have to place a hand over the top of your head to cover your eyes from the glaring color changing lights. he looks familiar, extremely familiar. however, you’re drunk and it’s dark. you aren’t so concerned with placing a distinct name to a face and more concerned with what you’ll be calling this person you presume you’re going home with tonight.

sure, it wasn’t what you originally believed yourself to be doing. the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, nor would you do this on any other occasion but it’s your first night out in a new town. you’ve had the letdown of a century and your boss is absolute shit, never showing up to do anything but complain and order you around. with a pretty boy right at your fingertips, why should you deny yourself? just for one night, at least.

it takes him a second. you assume he doesn’t quite hear you over the music bumping in the background because he blinks, dark eyebrows drawing together just slightly, and that smirk is returning right back on his pink lips. “kuyo,” his hands downwards, smoothening under the crease of your butt.

“unusual name but whatever you say.” your eyes track him low-lidded and just barely disguising the hearts beginning to form in your eyes. he moves close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his breath. it reeks of something strong, something like henessey cocktailed with a flurry of drinks downed without a second thought.

kuyo can only chuckle, one that goes unheard in your ears. he ignores your little comment, experimentally grazing his fingers along your body, both clothed and unclothed while gauging your reaction. and when he finds none, just your sweet smile, he continues pulling and squeezing and groping with little regard for those around you. you’re in a club. people should expect to see a little frisking. “i don’t like beating around the bush and i’m sure you’re a smart girl so you know what i’m gonna say. do you want to go back with me or not? we’d have to go to yours though. roommates.”

you almost laugh. there’s already a giggle building in your throat at his sheer audacity. kuyo didn’t even ask. he didn’t suggest, didn’t pose a question. he simply invited himself over, granted, that’s if you let him. usually, you’d pull back. you’d scoff in kuyo’s face, shake your head and disappear, never to be seen again. but his hands, they’re so strong. and his shoulders are so broad, and his chest is so firm, and his smile is so— “this better be the best night of my life, pretty boy.”

he gives one final squeeze to your midsection, savoring that feeling of plush skin molding around his fingers. the next time kuyo feels it, he knows it’ll be without these silly restrictions such as clothes and peering eyes. not that he’d mind, but he does doubt you want to be split on his dick in the middle of a club. “oh trust, it will be.”

©️ prncessie | do not repost on to other platforms, plagiarize, modify, translate, or use for any ai platforms. my work is my own and it comes from my brain so you’ll have to use yours too

taglist — comment to be added

@excedr

#ִ •°. *࿐. *. ⋆ ▻ 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙡𝙪 #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #black reader #sukuna x black reader #x black reader

62 notes · View notes

azsazz · 2 years ago

Text

Dioxazine

Modern!Rhys x Reader

Summary: While at the art shop looking for the necessary supplies for your first semester of art school, you get a bit distracted by the cocky cashiers intriguing eye color.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,254

Notes: It’s 1am and now it’s Sunday so I’m posting rn so @writingsbychlo can see this when she wakes up. This one’s for you babes! I hope you love it.

P.S. Gosh I just love young, cocky Rhys so much. 😭

_________________________________________

You really should’ve grabbed a basket.

Your arms are stuffed with supplies: sketchbooks, pencils, oil paints, a roll of canvas, anything and everything you could need for the start of your classes in a few days.

They’d given you a list of all of the tools needed for your first semester at art school and yeah, you could’ve ventured to the nearest chain store, but you thought it’d be better to support the local art supply in town.

That is, until you meet the cashier.

He looks anything but friendly, leant over the expanse of the counter, flipping through a magazine ever so lazily. The boy doesn’t even look up when you drop your supplies down, spilling across the surface with purpose.

“Hello?” you crow when you’ve been standing there for a solid minute while he reads whatever article is next to the full page perfume ad with a half naked model on it. You catch sight of his long fingers rubbing the corner of the pages, separating them from each other so that he can turn to the next.

“Hi,” he responds blankly, like you’ve just run into him and he doesn’t know why you’re speaking to him. Your brows knit together as you stare at him, wondering if he always acts so careless about his job or you’ve just caught him at a bad time.

“I, um…” you trail off, frustrated because all you want to do is purchase your supplies and you’ll be out of his inky black hair. “Can you look at me?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw in annoyance, which is fine because his rudeness is irritating you as well, so at least you have that in common.

Finally, he snaps shut the magazine and looks up at you. His glaring eyes are startling, not because he looks menacing, but you’ve never quite seen a color like that before, bright violet with flecks of a dark hue that reminds you of the stars in the night sky.

They make you itch to test out your new paints.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he stands to his full height, and holy Gods, he towers over you by at least a whole foot. “Is there something I can help you with?”

You clear your throat, “Yes, actually. If you’re not too busy, that is.” You glance at the magazine, now facedown on the counter.

The side of his mouth quirks in a wicked smirk, “You’ve caught me at a good stopping point.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath that only makes him smile wider.

“I’m looking for the umber oil paint but I didn’t see any on the rack.”

“Freshman then?” his teeth are bright in his grin. He rounds the corner of the counter, leading you back the way you came. There aren’t many students milling about the small shop, and as you pass the pen section you have to talk yourself into not purchasing another just for the sake of how pretty it looks.

You make a face at his insinuation. “You can tell that just from my paint selection?”

“Yes and no. No, because umber is a staple color for most painters,” he glances at you over his shoulder as he slows to a stop before the rack of organized paints. He takes his time, giving you a once over that makes you flush and hug your arms across your chest. His smile only grows and you scowl in response. “And yes, because If you weren't a freshman you would’ve asked for a specific one. There’s burnt umber and raw umber.”

He plucks both tubes of paint from the shelf and holds them out to you, “Very different colors.”

“They look the same to me,” you mumble, studying the swatches on the tubes. They’re a few shades off from each other, surely that can’t make that much of a difference.

You definitely don’t take into account how small the tubes look in his large hands, and you’re absolutely not thinking about taking one just to compare the size difference between your hands.

“Trying to decide which one to get?” His question is innocent but the look on his face is anything but.

You flush and the collar of your shirt seems to tighten out of nowhere. “Yes.”

He stares down at you for a moment, making sure that you know he’d given you an out.

“You’re going to need both.”

“I guess I’ll take your word for it, since you seem to know so much about art.”

“That’s why I work at the art store,” he replies bluntly, letting you lead the way back to the register, “Because I know my shit.”

“Well it’s definitely not because of your less than charming personality,” you retort, shocking yourself. You’re usually not so rude to people but there’s just something about this guy that’s getting under your skin.

All you want to do is go back to your dorm.

“You think I’m charming?”

You scoff, “Absolutely not,” You catch yourself peeking at how well fitting his pants are against the round of his ass as he makes his way back to the register side of the counter. You shake your head, scolding yourself. “Now are you going to ring up my stuff?”

“No, but I will check you out.”

You groan, “That was terrible.”

“Terrible or cute?”

You give him a pointed look, face straight. “Terrible.”

“I can try another,” he says as he finally starts ringing up your art supplies.

“No thank you, just the supplies for me today, thanks,” you try, silently praying that he hurries. You can’t stand the thought of being around him for much longer if he spouts another cheesy line that you know he’s probably used on plenty of girls before. You don’t care how cute he is.

“You know what else these are good for?” He holds up the tube of Dioxazine purple paint, the one that looks like a bottled color of his eyes.

“I really didn’t ask.”

“Finger Painting.”

The retort rolls quickly off your tongue and just as swift to wipe that smile off of his gorgeous face. “Should’ve known that’s what you’re into, since you act like a three year old.”

His eyes glow, taking the card you’re holding out for the transaction. You don’t even care how much the total is, you just want to get the hell out of here.

“Feisty.”

“Just give me the damn receipt,” you’re pretty sure your cheeks look like they’ve been brushed with the cadmium red paint in your bag as you hold out your hand for your card and the thin sheet of paper.

“Yes, ma'am,” he obeys, passing both over to you, sliding your bag of supplies across the counter.

“And don’t call me that.”

“What do you want me to call you? Darling? Or your name, perhaps?”

“No.”

“Any other requests?” he asks cheekily, planting his hands on the counter so he can lean toward it, towering over you.

You take the bag, fully planning on ignoring him in favor of taking a brisk walk towards the door but he’s shuffling around under the counter and trailing after you.

“Yeah, you can stop following me,” you remark, catching sight of the bunched up sweatshirt in his hands. It’s nowhere near cold yet so you don’t understand why he has that on him. Maybe it got cold in the store while he was sitting on his ass doing nothing.

“My shift just ended, Darling.”

You halt as you step onto the sidewalk. He takes a few steps further, swinging around to face you when he realizes you’ve stopped.

Narrowing your eyes up at him, you say, “Didn’t I just tell you not to call me that?”

“You didn’t tell me your name, so I guess I’ll just have to keep calling you pet names, Darling.”

“(Y/N),” you nearly growl, “My name is (Y/N).”

He repeats your name and you clutch your bag tighter in your hands because you’d never heard it sound quite that lovely coming out of someone's mouth. It gives you goosebumps.

“I’m Rhysand, but you can call me Rhys.”

“I’m honored,” you respond sourly, hating that he’s smiling at your annoyance. “Can I go now?”

You try to step around him but he slides into your path again, blocking your way back to campus.

“You know my friends and I are throwing a party at my place tonight,” he starts, glancing up at the street over your head before returning those piercing eyes on yours. He shrugs. “You know, before class starts up and all that.”

“Cool.”

He barks out a laugh that licks up your spine in the best way. “That was me inviting you, if that wasn’t clear.”

“It wasn’t,” you say, even though it was.

He cocks his head, grinning crookedly at you, “Don’t be like that.”

You can’t help but to roll your eyes at this cocky boy. You blurt the next question that comes to mind instead of giving him an answer. “Why are you even working here?”

“So I can meet pretty girls like you,” he responds innocently, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks in an exaggerated manner.

You can’t help but to laugh, shifting your bag to the other arm, “Try again.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a wicked curve and your heart definitely doesn’t stutter and you certainly aren’t thinking about breaking out the oil paints you’ve just bought.

“I might work at the art supply store to get a discount on my own supplies,” he starts, “Or I might work at the art supply store so that my father thinks that I can be independent and make a living off becoming an artist instead of taking over the family business.”

And well, you weren’t expecting him to be so open about it.

Unsure of what to say, you focus on the fact that he said he was also taking classes for art.

“You’re in art school?”

“I know, the patchwork tattoos make me seem like something much more scholarly,” he grins and you had taken notice of the array of…interesting patchwork tattoos littering the tanned skin of his arms.

“Yeah,” you huff a laugh, “The Mickey Mouse one really screams finance major.”

Rhys’ smile falls, an offended scowl taking over his perfect face. “It’s not just a tattoo of Mickey Mouse,” he protests, turning his arm so the both of you can see the silly tattoo better. “He’s…on drugs, so it’s cool, ya know? An aesthetic if you will.”

You stare at it, then at him, an eyebrow raised.

He gives in. “Okay…so it was a dare but there’s a good story behind it, I swear! I can tell you more about it on our date.”

“Date? I thought it was a party?”

“So you’re coming?”

You purse your lips, unimpressed. “I didn’t say all that.”

The blaring sounds of a horn cuts off his response, drawing both of your attention to the street. There’s two boys in the front seats of the gorgeous vintage Bronco, painted your favorite color. Your mouth nearly drops at the pristine condition of the car, and then again once you catch sight of the handsome passengers.

The boy driving the car leans over the one in the passenger, “C’mon Rhys, hurry up and get her number or we’re going to do this thing without you!”

The boy in the passenger seat glares at the driver, your cheeks heating up under their stares.

“You heard him,” Rhys says, smiling so wide you’re afraid his cheeks might split open. “Can’t have them thinking I didn’t get your number, right?”

“You didn’t.”

“(Y/N),” he sighs, yielding only a small step when you take one forward. When you don’t say anything he continues, “At least come to the party.”

“No, thanks.”

“Please?”

You exhale an exasperated breath. He just won’t give up. “If I say yes will you get out of my way?”

“Definitely,” he nods his head eagerly.

“Then yes,” you finally relent and he beams, “I will see you there.”

“Sick,” he mutters proudly to himself. He shoves his hand into your bag and you fumble for a second, yelping and straightening the paper sack as he rifles around for something.

Rhys pulls a sharpie out and grabs your arm. You’re so caught off guard that you just watch as he writes his number on your forearm in thick black letters. Your mouth drops open in shock. You’ll have to scrub your skin raw to try and get it off.

He steps back, admiring his work. He caps the marker and tosses it back into your bag, “My number looks good on you, you should consider getting that inked. I have a friend, if you want.”

“Let me guess, he’ll be at the party.”

His grin is shit eating.

Rhys winks, pulling out a can of spray paint from beneath the bunched up fabric of his sweatshirt as he retreats towards the car, and it’s then that you realize he's only brought the jacket so he could take the paint, hiding it in the fabric so no one would see.

He shakes the can in the air for emphasis, swinging a leg up into the backseat of the convertible. The grin on his face is something you'll be thinking about for the rest of the day.

“I'll paint something pretty for ya, (Y/N). See you tonight.”

#rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand/reader #rhys/reader #rhys x reader #night court #modern!rhys #art school rhys #modern au #art school au #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #azsazz

796 notes · View notes

froggy-fizz · 1 month ago

Text

[ starter for the beautiful, amazing, show-stopping @boszbichblitzo ]

Navigating the bustling, noisy, streets of the Pride-Ring it was near impossible to avoid flyers for the all-imp circus: stuck haphazardly onto lampposts and crumpled underfoot, they were everywhere. All bold lettering, promises of a night of awe-filled wonder, and plastered with the grinning face of an imp in a jester hat. Stifled by the shadow of its tragic history, the circus was, uh…well, let’s just say, business had been better. The horrifying fire had been a bit of a buzz-kill, and even as the years passed, there were only really two pieces of common knowledge about the circus: 1.) It’s that circus where the awful, horrific, tragedy happened. 2.) It’s the circus that has Fizzarolli!~ Look, the jester found the praise undeniably gratifying, especially considering the nerve-wracking nature of his return to performing after gaining a whole set of prosthetic limbs but, well, Fizz just wished it didn’t always feel like he was single-handedly responsible for clawing back their audience. He wasn’t a miracle worker! He was a performer. A fucking good one, but still, it turns out that rainbow confetti, unholy amounts of glitter, insane layers of stage-makeup and general razzmatazz could only do so much to cover up the tragedies of the past.

Days off were rare and even when they presented themself, Fizz exclusively used them to practice the skills he hadn’t yet mastered since getting his prosthetics. There was a soft mechanical whirring as Fizz took the long balloon in his robotic hands. Bathed in the glimmering warmth of the lights of the big top, he began to attempt to twist the skinny balloon into shape, his forked tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in pure, unshakable, focus. With a loud squeak, the balloon slipped through his metal fingers and floated gently down to the floor beside him, still infuriatingly sausage shaped. “You slippery little fucker!” he admonished as he clasped his hands around the rubber tube once more. Come on, how hard could this be? He used to be a fucking balloon animal making legend. His hands may be robotic now but the brain doesn’t forget! Taking a slow breath, being more delicate this time, he twisted at the balloon in an attempt to make a simple horse — his heart soared as he managed to twist and turn until something began taking shape. When he was done, however, his heart skipped a beat. There, resting in his hands, was a half-formed horse missing his legs. That, all-too-familiar, feeling of forming tears began to sting his eyes. Against his will, a hot tear rolled down his cheek. Fizz’s teary eyes darted around wildly to the other circus performers that were milling around the tent in a panic, making sure that no one had seen him falter. Cash would be so angry. It was ungrateful for him to be upset after everything the man had done for him. Plus, no one wanted to see him upset. He was the face of the circus. The success story. The bright, unfaltering, smile. The hope for a better, richer, future. Fizz clambered unsteadily to his feet. Holding that dumb fucking balloon animal tight to his chest, he scurried off to the isolation of his dressing room.

The jester practically threw his failed attempt of a horse onto his vanity. Which was…unsatisfying, consider how it merely bounced of the mirror and floated peacefully to sit among his makeup. The prosthetics of his hands let out a small, electric, spark of protest at how hard he grasped at the edge of the hardwood table, staring straight into the eyes of his reflection. Fizz took a steadying breath, or twelve, then slumping down unceremoniously into his chair — he picked up a stray powder puff and tapped it onto his face where the tear had left a streak in his otherwise flawless makeup. “I know you’re a clown but fuuuuck…seriously Fizz?” he chastised the beautiful idiot in the mirror, wrapping his mechanical fingers around a lipstick before dabbing it against his lips gently. Blitzo was a piece of shit that’d burnt down the circus, left him to die in the flames, and then not had the nerve to show his face ever since. “…waste of a perfectly good make-up look, if ya ask me…” Fizz had spent far too much time that morning colour-coordinating his eye shadow to the cute baby blue crop top he was wearing to ruin his hard work over a ghost.

#boszbichblitzo #this ended up angstier than intended oops #apparently I can’t help myself lol

46 notes · View notes

harry-trumans-dishwasher · 4 months ago

Text

You: "No wonder the line was so long, Kim, these hot dogs are great!"

Kim: "Yes, Detective. It's not often the Oscar Mayer Wiener Mobile comes to Jamrock." The lieutenant rolls his sleeves up and focuses on his little mustard package.

Encyclopedia: The Oscar Mayer cold cut producer first began in 1883 as a common meat market chain. Their liverwurst, weißwurst, and Westphalian hams became explosively popular with immigrant populations.

Endurance: Ah yes. "Old World" meats. None of this "spoils after an hour without refrigeration" idiocy. Hard meats for hard men.

Perception: Still seems popular with today's consumer - you can barely see the line stretching around the block!

Shivers: The sun-baked streets radiate heat towards the heavens above. The faded leaves of the trees have taken on an orange tint, like the edges of burnt paper. Somewhere....

Esprit de Corps: "The Cuno needs his pig jacket! I can't go bustin' heads and lighting up fuckers dressed like a fuck-ing preschooler!" "He has a point, Jean. These uniform requisitions take time and he'll need a Junior RCM cloak when it starts snowing again in *two* months." Patrol Officer Judit Minot holds two tired fingers up to emphasize the two-ness of the months that stand between them and the bitter cold. All present in the old Silk Mill become very aware of the passage of time.

Esprit de Corps: Except for a puzzled Sergeant Torson whose gaze follows her pointing fingers up to the ceiling. He wasn't listening.

Empathy: It's not that the hot dogs *taste* very good. It's that they remind people of Summer. Of their childhood and cheap meals on the boardwalk.

Electrochemistry: The shape definitely reminds you of a few things, certainly.

Conceptualization: In that little tube of ground intestines, preservatives, and cartilage, a whole universe of positive associations.

Inland Empire: That's what it's all about, brother.

You: "I wish *I* were an Oscar Mayer wiener, Kim."

Kim: "Do I want to know why, Officer?"

Interfacing: Like a surgeon in combat, the lieutenant's attention is focused entirely on keeping any mustard from spilling on himself. He pauses.

You: "Because... Because..."

Reaction Speed: No! There's still time to pivot and say something else! Quickly, something that won't cause you to break down in tears!

Rhetoric (Failure): Sorry guys, I got stuck in line for the Wienermobile. What'd I miss?

You (softly, only crying a little): "Because they're red and they feed the masses, Kim..."

#disco elysium #hot dogs #oscar mayer #taggitytagtag

23 notes · View notes

whatyadrawin · 6 months ago

Text

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 15

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 6,667 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Sexual language and visual depiction of sexual acts, foul language. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: I finished this semester of schooling and will be starting my contracted work in July so chapters will continue to be pretty sporadic but they will keep coming until the final one. I struggled a bit with pushing along the story in this one because of the shift in locations but we have some good things coming, and we now have TOMMYS AGE! The censored images can be viewed raw on my google doc (By clicking that link you are consenting to seeing graphic adult imagery and you are over 18). Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae , @dij-ology , @jillian-mill , @littlelovebug98

Chapter 15

The faint sound of dishes clinking and scraping wandered into your dream, the swirling visuals dissipated as the sounds became louder until all you saw was black. Your eyelids remained closed as you squeezed them together hoping the pressure would lift the wight of sleep. As your consciousness lazily took hold, the sounds began to make sense, someone was cooking up a storm in the kitchen and the sweet smell of cinnamon was now registering in your nose.

You rubbed your eyes to help moisten them so they didn’t hurt when you opened your lids, you saw the morning light softly reflecting onto your bed from the window. You get up and breathe out deeply as the memories of the night before flood back to you -was that even real?- you still had a dull pain in your soft bits from being stretched so far -I guess it was-

You head to the bathroom to wash up, the house was like an oven already which worried you for how hot the peak of the day would be. You entered back in the room to look for your phone which seems like it hadn’t been used in ages; You pulled up a search engine and perused the local listings for any companies that would be able to irrigate farmland and install underground automatic sprinklers for the fruit trees. While you scrolled the various companies capable of the work, you hear a knock on the bedroom patio door,

“You awake hun?” It was Luda Mae, “I got some fresh cinnamon buns here for you dear.”

You put your phone down to get to the door, you move the curtains aside to reveal Luda Mae holding a large plate of fresh cinnamon buns heavily glazed with icing. You slide open the door for her,

“You weren’t gettin’ shut eye just now I hope?” You smile and shake your head, she continues, “Thought you might like some fresh rolls on this sunny mornin’”

You take the plate with a huge smile on your face, you hadn’t had cinnamon buns in years,

“Thank you so much! Did you make these yourself?” your voice was bubbling with excitement.

Luda Mae laughs, “Lord no, I got that lil’ dough man’s tube of ‘em from the store. Felt like givin’ them a try.” Luda Mae’s smile faded a little, she had clasped her hands together in front of her nervously, “Mind if I talk to you hun?” she asks.

You move aside and guide her in with an outstretched hand, “Not at all” you reply.

She turns to face you as she entered in, her glasses resting on her hair, “I know you’re gonna be headin’ back up to the house real soon, them trees need carin’ for after such a long time.” She pauses and stares at your unmade bed, she was clearly uncomfortable so she began to busy herself.

She looks up and notices you watching her, you must have looked a bit perplexed because she felt the need to explain her actions, “Sorry hun, I just need to have my hands busy right now.”

“That’s ok, it’s your house” you immediately felt your words may have come off as standoffish and you regretted saying them.

She thinned her lips and tilted her head when she heard that, as if it was an insult, “Well, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about” she continued to fuss with the bed, “Go ‘head and eat those rolls while they’re still warm dear. Go on now”

You take a seat at the writing desk where you placed the plate of goodies and turn your chair to face her; You take a small bite of the cinnamon bun and a burst of sweet warm dough wakes you up, the icing clung to your upper lip which you hastily licked away.

“Thank you for the Cinnamon buns, they are exceptionally good.” You swallow the bready sweet and continue, “What about this house did you want to talk to me about?” you were beyond curious.

She sighs as she runs her hands over the sheets to flatten them and remove wrinkles,

“I know you felt like you were puttin’ us out while you been stayin’ here, and I know you got your own home and responsibilities...” you could feel a hovering air of anxiety in the awkward pause, you smile and reassure her,

“Hey, you can tell me anything. I’m family remember?”

She gave a relieved smile after you said that and lowered her shoulders down from their hunched up position.

“’Course I remember hun. Ok, well here goes then… Now, me n’ Charlie been discussin’ you a lot the past few days, we don’t have a lot of time left on this earth and Loretta and Monty will be gone sooner than us, so really there won’t be anyone left.” She folded the ends of the sheets perfectly as she tucked them under the pillows, “What I’m trying to say is, we wanna ask you to watch over Tommy when god calls us home. I know you n’ him been getting’ along real well and I guess I was hopin’ you two might get married someday, then this house and the land will be left for the both of you.”

You were taken aback by the overtly honest summary of her plea, you didn’t know what to say so you just sat there stunned and silent. Luda Mae saw you looking like a deer caught in headlights, she walks over to you cautiously, hoping you weren’t about to freak out,

“Now, I know this is a big ask, and a lot to take in all at once what with how you ain’t even been here a year yet but, we been through so much and Thomas loves you and he ain’t never loved no one like that before and we wanted to repay Tilly for all her generosity but she passed away ‘fore we could so we figured you were deserving of the gift and-”

You shook your head and she paused; Luda Mae was word vomiting all her anxiety out on you and you weren’t able to listen properly because of the big news you just received, you scratch your head and collect some thoughts to respond,

“I’m truly flattered and surprised at this offer, no one has ever considered me in this way, other than Tilly I guess but, I barely even knew her.” You stood up from the chair, “I love Tommy, and I intend to be there for him until I die, so I don’t need incentive to stick around. I really want you to know that I am not going anywhere. I’ll be visiting here as often as I can, it’s not like I’m far away.” You get up and take her hand in yours, “I’d love to marry your son, not so I can get this house or the land, but for us to both have the legal paper that makes us family. I deserve to experience having a husband who loves me and I think he deserves a wife who loves him.”

Luda Mae pulls you in for a hug, she has excellent hugs that feel like the warmth and love of a million mothers. You hug her back and rest your head on her shoulder, she gives you a kiss on the back of your head,

“Hun you must be an angel sent from Tilly herself, I swear it.”

These people would be seen as evil monsters by any normal objective person, you knew that Luda Mae carried large amounts of guilt on her shoulders from participating in the horrors this family created, which made her feel like she had to do extra good to make amends with her god before she reaches the end of her life. You felt a weight of sorrow knowing they had to resort to cannibalism in order to survive famine and governmental abandonment, it must have been a difficult decision to make, but Tilly saved them from that hell, and you were there to continue her work.

Luda Mae released you from the hug and held your shoulders so she could look at you,

“I know you’re humble about getting things and feelin’ appreciated, but you’re special to us. You’re in the will whether you want it or not.”

She rubbed the sides of your arms and whisked out the sliding door back to the kitchen, you sat back down at the desk and mulled over what she said while taking another cinnamon bun to eat. -I never thought I would get found family when I came here, this is such a gift-

-----

The noon sun was now blazing in the sky, you finally found a company that would be able to help you with your orchard and set up a meeting with them in the upcoming weeks. You had a few bags full of your belongings that you had packed up to move back to your house, you grab two and put on a sun hat to make your way home.

The walk was sweltering, you could see the air swirling with heat creating a mirror effect on the ground in the distance, your skin was shimmering with a layer of sweat in an attempt to cool you down. The dry grass was humming with the chirps of crickets and birds, you see the entrance to the driveway of your home and hurry yourself to get out of the heat.

As soon as you get in the door you let out a long sigh and drop the bags on the living room couch, the house was warm from having all the windows and doors shut, you needed to get the air circulating. You walk into the kitchen and fill a cup with cold water at the sink, you gulp it down hastily, feeling like you never had a thirst so extreme in your life. -I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this heat-

As you begin to drink a second glass you stare out the window of the living room and see that moving crate still sitting there, you get your phone out of your pocket and call the number for the company. Someone picks up after a minute of ringing and you promptly get a pick-up time arranged to get it removed. -I’m so productive today, I finally feel like my life is moving at a normal speed again- Having that crate gone will really solidify the permanence of your residency.

You make your way to the backyard and see someone coming up the road in the distance, you grab the pair of binoculars you used when you arrived and see that its Tommy -Oh man, I’m going to tease the shit out of him and get him to break his game- When he left you all hot and bothered last night you didn’t want to wait and mess around anymore, you felt compelled to get him inside you after months of dreaming of it and being so close.

You get yourself changed into a skimpy outfit, a very low cut, white, tank top with no bra and a pair of lavender booty shorts. You put your hair into a high pony tail and get your face touched up with some minimal makeup since the heat would melt any heavy glam looks right off your face. You give yourself one last look in the mirror and spritz a pump of perfume on -If he can resist this then there’s no hope for me-

You pop on a large pair of shades and go back out to the yard and wait patiently on the swing bench, you giggle to yourself unable to keep your composure from the butterflies you were experiencing. Tommy rounded the corner and stopped when he saw you, his eyes widen as he stared but then he realizes what you’re doing and shakes his head as he continued to walk closer. You look up from your shades and get up from where you sat.

You speak in your most aloof and sultry voice “Hey Tommy, want some water? You look so thirsty” you flash him a cocky smile, he probably didn’t know the subtext of your words but your tone likely gave him a hint.

“I ain’t gon’ slip up ‘round you.” He said in a haughty tone.

He crossed his arms, his pecs puffed out as they squished together. He was dressed similar to a 50s greaser you would see in a cheesy movie, his white t-shirt was working hard clinging to his oversized muscles and his light denim jeans didn’t have much room where it counted. He was wearing some nice black biker boots underneath too; It seems he came prepared to fight back against your deadly tactics.

You stood there with a devilish grin on your face,

“Uh-huh, we’ll see. Now did you want that water?”

He nodded and you turned around slowly to get in the door to the kitchen, making sure he saw your ass in those tiny little shorts that barely hid cheek. You knew you were successful when you saw his reflection in a framed picture on the wall that faced him from the inside, he had both his hands raised to his head in disbelief at the sight before him. You blushed as you let the water fill the glass in the sink -I have this in the bag-

When you came back out you saw Tommy overlooking the orchard, you walked up beside him and handed him the cup. He took the glass from your hands and thanked you, he guzzled the water so quick it was like it was a shot of liquor at a bar to him. He handed the glass back to you, as you grabbed it he grazed your hand purposefully with his fingers, you went and set it down on the table next to the swing bench -God he’s smooth-.

“I know what mama went and asked to ya” he didn’t look at you when he spoke,

“Hm” was all you could find to reply with

He continued, “Ya ain’t got to do nothin’ you ain’t wantin’ to do, y’know?”

You touch his forearm, he turned his head to look at you slowly, you weren’t sure if he was talking about the marriage or the commitment to his care, so you vaguely asked,

“Do you want me to?”

“I wanna know what you want” he was not exactly making things clear, so you decided to ask directly,

“You mean about taking care of you when they are gone?”

He looks away and lowers his head and nods,

You squint your eyes, “I want to be with you for the rest of my life” you hope your words were reassuring to him.

He whipped his head to look at you, “Y’sure? ‘cus if that’s true then…”

You nod and follow up, “Now the question is, do you want me there for the rest of your life?”

He turns his whole body to you creating a large shadow, he took your hand in his and said “I wanna be your husband real bad, more’n’ anything I could ever think of”

You smile, “Good, because I want to be your wife real bad, more than anything I could ever think of.”

Tommy let out a relieved chuckle, he kissed your hand and picked you up. You laugh and remove his mask, pressing your lips onto his, the prickling of his stubble tickled your skin, he slowly twirled around with you in his arms letting out muffled laughs behind his kiss. You had never seen him so happy before, his gnarled smile melted your heart into a puddle and you never wanted to see it fade. He released his lips from yours and put you down on the ground, you gave him his mask and he placed it back on his face.

“You can keep the mask off, no one is around but me.” You didn’t understand his long-held habit of hiding his face even when it wouldn’t matter.

He fitted the mask back on and nodded saying, “I wanna keep it off, but, my skin ain’t seen much sun and burns real easy.”

You felt a bit embarrassed from not realizing, but Tommy didn’t let you dwell on it,

“C’mon, let’s go look at them trees n’ I’ll let y’know what I can do for this here orchard.”

He takes your hand and leads you down to the rows of trees.

The shade under the foliage was a nice break from the blistering sun, Tommy immediately began inspecting the branches and checking the buds where new fruit would bloom. You watched as he gently moved around the dirt near the roots, he turned to you and said,

“I’ll be comin’ ‘round often to get things right for ya, but, so far so good.”

You felt less anxious about the daunting task ahead of you, the trees seemed to hold up really well without a caretaker and now that you had Tommy helping you, it felt like smooth sailing. He wasn’t even your husband yet and he was already taking responsibility to care for you. It made you feel so peaceful to know such a powerful man wanted to participate in your life and happiness.

You both wandered around the trees for a bit until you reached the shack where Dover lived, Tommy saw you tense up,

“Want me t’get rid of it?”

You shook your head, “No, no, or… at least, not yet. I might as well look inside and clear it out before we get rid of it. I want to make sure there isn’t much uhm…evidence of him.”

Tommy tilted his head, he knew you were right but he was concerned about the bad memories stressing you out. You walked up to the door and tried to open it but it was locked, you shake your head and huff,

“Guess I’ll need to look for a spare key somewh-“

Tommy moved you aside and promptly kicked the door in, it flung back to the wall behind it cracking in multiple areas,

“I… well ok then, guess I don’t need to find a key after all! You know, maybe I could have been able to refurbish it into a new home for a replacement caretaker.” You smile at him, he laughs,

“Y’weren’t gon’ make no one live in this.” He knew you well already.

When you stepped inside, you were hit with the disgusting stench of lingering body odor. You immediately covered your nose with your hand and wretched, Tommy took an orange handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to you. With the handkerchief on your nose, the stench was a bit more bearable, you thank him and continue to look around. The place was so tiny, it was barely the size of a bedroom in a single apartment. The walls were a dirty brown color and there were no ceiling lights just old lamps.

You saw Dover’s bed in the far end, an old tube T.V. was sitting on a tiny little side-table next to it. At the entrance you saw a small sink with no undercabinet; A toilet and shower area were tucked in a small room next to the fridge. He had a table pushed against a free wall with a dingey cabinet beside it next to the bed, you walked over to the table and saw the wall the table was pushed up against, it had a bunch of pictures stuck to it.

You looked back and saw Tommy peering in from the entrance, his arms resting on the top of the doorframe, he saw you look at the wall and asked,

“What y’seein’?”

You shrug and move in closer and see its all pictures of naked women from dirty magazines, all of their eyes were scratched out with pen.

You gasp, “Ew! It’s a porn wall Ugh!”

Tommy laughs at your reaction and calls out to you,

“Get outta there, nothin’ good fer ladies t’look at”

You hurry out of the shack and take in the fresh air,

“Ok this thing need to get demolished or burned or blown up I don’t know it just needs to be erased… the smell alone is a threat to the environment.”

Tommy props up the broken door to cover the entrance and follows behind you,

“I wanna show ya somethin’”

“Where?” you ask

“Somethin’ you’d find interestin’ s’long as it’s still there”

You follow Tommy out to the far end of the orchard, there’s a bunch of thick bushes that look like they were overgrown and began to encroach on the fruit trees. He walks up to the bushes and starts ripping up the branches with ease, he didn’t seem to care about possible spiders or other creepy crawlies that might get on him. You wait under the shade as he went further into the bushes, clearing a path of broken branches and flattened earth behind him.

“AHA HERE IT IS!” he yells

He turns to wave you over, you walk up to where he was crouched and carefully step into the bush. The soft leaves brushed your arms as you went through the newly formed path, Tommy takes your hand and pulls you over to an indent in the growth, it reveals an old stone that’s been overgrown with moss, weeds, and grass.

“What is this?” you ask

Tommy knelt down and pointed to some words etched into the stone and what looks like an imprint under the words, you move away some grass and weeds and see that it’s a handprint. You read the writing and it says ‘Tommy 1979’.

“Is that your hand print? What is this stone?”

Tommy smiles and touches it, his finger is longer than the entire handprint in the stone,

“Mama said she’d take me here as a baby ‘cus it was the only place I’d stop m’cryin’. Uncle Charlie made a concrete stone with my handprint n’ put it here.” He looked over at you and continued, “Tilly put down chairs n’ flowers when she moved out here, she kept it nice until she died.”

You rub his arm, “This is a cool spot, we should clear all these bushes out and make it nice again.”

Tommy stood up with you as you looked around to see if you could make out any formations under the bush.

“What y’lookin’ for?” Tommy asked

“I’m trying to see if these bushes are grown over chairs, why did this area get left unattended?”

Tommy pointed at the direction of the shack.

You nod, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

The sun was starting to really heat up the air, you could feel the rays begin to sizzle your skin,

“Let’s head back to my house, its too hot out here.” You say.

While walking back up the hill to your house, you made sure to walk ahead of Tommy, you emphasized the sway of your hips as you walked, just to push his buttons. Tommy watched as you teased him, he was white knuckling restraint to just grab you and open you up, you were good at making him weak.

You both arrived at the house and entered the kitchen to get more water, you gave Tommy a much larger glass this time and he definitely needed it. You watched as this large beast of a man removed his mask and proceed to guzzle down gallons of water, small droplets rolled down his neck and twisted a knot of desired in your core. -He drinks as much as a bull-

He downed the last drink and let out a pleased gasp of refreshment, he lifted his shirt up to dry his face from sweat and escaped water from the glass and your eyes travelled down to his soft, hairy stomach which puffed out from years of eating well. This man was massive and when you allowed yourself to gawk at him, it seemed to dawn on you just how unbelievably solid he was. You looked away and clenched the fabric of your shorts tightly, hoping you could release some of your attraction into the material.

Tommy noticed you looking tense and walked over to find out what was causing you to shrink your stature,

“Y’ok?” he asked.

His deep voice was like silk in the wind, smooth and entrancing,

“I uh, yeah I’m fine sorry.” You attempted to correct your cracking voice, unsuccessfully.

The house was quiet and cool inside, you wanted to get your mind right so you wouldn’t fail your salacious objective,

“Come check out the finished work in the bedroom, it looks brand new.” You wave for him to follow you.

Tommy followed closely behind you, having to duck down through the doorway just to get in the room. You began pointing at varied areas that were recently fixed saying how nice everything looked, Tommy walked over to the bed and inspected where the window was,

“This where that fire started?” he asked

You went over to where he stood and looked, it seemed there was a spot on the wall where the paint didn’t quite dry right, the color was a bit darker than the rest of the wall.

“What the hell? I never noticed this, how far does it go down?” you hopped on your bed and leaned over to inspect the wall behind the mattress.

Tommys eyes grew wide as he watched you bend on your knees, your ass was high in the air and your legs spread. He immediately felt his jeans tighten and his head began to swirl with lust. You were too busy inspecting the wall to realize what you were doing to him, you call out to him,

“Tommy, can you come check the wall here, I want to be sure its not just me seeing the paint looking off.”

Tommy let out a deep breath and slowly kneeled onto the bed next to you, but there wasn’t much room for him to look. He was trying to avoid pushing you with his body but he wasn’t able to see much with you in the way, he was making a mental effort to calm down the raging erection that now pained him. You noticed he was struggling so you pointed to where he needed to look and you positioned your body under his so he could look over you instead of past you.

He touched where the paint was dark,

“Yep, it’s different here. Nothing t’worry ‘bout though.”

You sighed “Well ok, that makes me feel better.” You removed yourself from under his chest and lay on the bed, your head to the pillow,

“Here, lay down, I’ll make some room for you.” You pat your hand on the area next to you

Tommy looked over your body, he focused in on your hardened nipples poking through your shirt, tantalizing him further. He didn’t want to reveal his stiffened groin to you, he knew you would work him up and he wanted to win, at least, he thought he wanted to win.

You watched as Tommy remained frozen looking at you, this made you curious until you saw where his dick was and a blatant hard on was pointedly visible in his pants. The arousal you had been feeling this whole time got dialed to a hundred, and you took no time to wreck this man’s self-restraint.

“Tommy, did I get you all hot and bothered?” your voice had a playful mocking tone to it.

Tommy sat on the bed covering his shame and blushing hard,

“No!” he proclaimed.

You giggle, “Why don’t you let me help you out with that.”

Tommy wanted you so badly but he also wanted to resist, he didn’t feel ready to release himself, he was scared he would unknowingly hurt you. He looked away, his cheeks were a bright pink from being flustered. You crawl towards him and put your hands on his thighs,

“Come on, after you were so cruel to leave me a wet mess last night…”

Your hands moved up his thigh and towards his penis, you rubbed the thick pipe-like mound that pressed against his jeans and you heard him whimper, this made you grin wildly,

“Look how trapped you are, at least let it out so you aren’t in pain.”

Tommy didn’t move, he just watched as you unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. The lessened pressure felt good but it allowed for more blood to fill his shaft and harden an already firm erection, which made the sense of relief fleeting.

You felt a ball of heat form in your vaginal walls, slick wetness was now moistening your shorts and you were being driven into a craze,

“You wouldn’t leave me like that again, would you? I don’t know if I could forgive you if you did.” Your words rang in his ears. “Touch me Tommy, I need to feel you.”

He was awestruck by the sight before him, a gorgeous woman with barely any clothes on was basically begging to be with him. He wanted to do terrible things to you but the fear of causing harm overpowered his desires, you were so small compared to him,

“I-I don’ wanna hurt ya” he said in a whispered tone.

You stopped touching him and look up, “What do you mean?”

He sighs, “I ain’t able to… control myself when I get goin’ n’ well, I’m bigger than ya”

You couldn’t suppress your smirk, just the thought of him getting rough and wild was unbearably electrifying. You crawl closer to his chest and sit between his legs, you raise your hips and press your body on his causing his cock to be squeezed by your pelvis. Tommy inhaled sharply and restrained a moan, your hips lined up to reveal exactly how deep his dick would go if he were to bottom you out, this visual was driving him over the edge.

You could feel him twitching on your abdomen, and you knew you could get him to relinquish his control, you took a chance and lifted your shirt up off your body and tossed it to the side. You took his hand in yours and placed it on your breast, letting out a hushed gasp as his hand cupped your bosom. Tommy was losing his state of mind, he felt like he was in a dream and all he could focus on was you, he was straddling your bed with each leg dangling over either side of the small mattress.

Tommy massaged the skin around your breast, his fingers finding their way to your nipple where he softly pinched and pulled outward sending a tingling feeling up your spine. He placed his free hand on your other breast and squeezed with the perfect amount of pressure, he was mesmerized by the plush feeling in his hands. You bit your lip as he played with your perked nipples, he lowered you down to lay you flat on the bed. You raised your arms above your head giving him free access to the entirety of your torso, Tommy leaned over top of you trailing his hands over your skin which tickled your nerves.

His hands found their way to your shorts, he slowly pulled them off your body and growled when he saw you lay there before him unhidden by fabric. Tommy lay next to you on the bed he continued to touch your body as he put his arm under your head and wrapped his forearm around your shoulders so he could touch the breast closest to that hand. His touch was so soft it was like a whisper of movement that barely brushed your skin and it made your eyes roll back.

He nuzzled into your neck and placed kisses up from your collarbone until he reached your lips where he paused and hazily looked into your eyes,

“Think y’can handle what’s comin’?” he said in a breathy barotone.

You lean your lips close to his, stopping a hairs breadth away,

“I want to touch the fire. Show me the flame”

He lowers his hand to your clit and massages the tip of the hood, you gasp while looking into his eyes, he grins and says,

“Y’ain’t scared of gettin’ burned huh”

You shake your head and squeal as he presses down with more pressure sending your nerves into a crackling fracture. He lets out a guttural laugh at your confidence, he quiets your moans by pressing his lips on yours, his tongue dancing into your mouth so it can find its partner. You reciprocate his movements and mingle your passion between each other. His finger slips between your parting and enters into you, it was intense and drove heat up into your medial region and made you cry out with bliss.

You broke the kiss so you could breathe in deeply, his finger movements were tactical and precise as if he knew exactly where each pleasure spot inside you was hiding. You couldn’t take it anymore, you grabbed onto his neck and moved your body to face his while hooking your leg around his thigh. Your slit was right up against the length of his pulsating member, you rubbed up and down the extent of it to get it soaked and ready.

Tommy whined as you moved, he remained patient as he waited for you to decide when you wanted penetration. You watched as his face contorted into a delirious expression, then when his eyes began to roll back you pressed his head into your welcoming warmth. Tommys eyes jolted open, he was breathing heavily, you slid down on him and let more in, this time it felt effortless. You moaned loudly as you began to slowly traverse the exorbitant distance of his cock, you felt your insides stretch with each new inch achieved.

Tommy officially lost himself, with his brain leading into a more primitive state he quickly grabbed onto your hips and rolled himself on top of you. He pressed his body down on yours pinning your movements, leaving just enough room to allow you to breathe. His head was faced deep into the mattress above your shoulder, his mouth sucking in air and growling into your neck. Tommy moved your forward and back with no restraint, his tip was being thrust so deep it kissed your cervix and jolts of painful pleasure shot up into your chest.

You tried to push his torso back to allow you some room to move, he grunted as he moved himself up and off your body while removing his shirt, you used your legs to push off of him so you could change your position, his dick slipped out of you with a lewd sound. You could barely see his eyes through his now tousled hair, he looked untamed, his pupils were dilated and his chest heaved with each pant.

You turned to face the bed, you could feel your legs tremble under you from the sudden change in Tommys demeanor. Just as you tried to reach for the pillow you felt a large hand grab your ankle and pull you away from it, you fell onto your stomach and had your legs pulled open just before he squeezed himself inside again. You let out a nervous giggle and loudly groaned as he pumped erratically, your body was screaming with joy as each thrust felt like a touch of delicious sin.

Just when you thought he had enough, he lifted you off the bed, cock still sheathed in your body, he raised your legs up with one arm and constricted his other arm around your ribs like a snake. You were suspended up on his chest, he bucked his hips and made your body rise and fall methodically. He was piercing into you, the lip of his glans bumped into your G-spot forcefully, you couldn’t help but scream out,

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum!”

Your words were like an activation, Tommy began to press you deeper onto his cock and pull you farther up to maximize the sensation, he loudly huffed with grunts and deep breaths, you could tell he was ready to explode,

“Cum inside me Tommy, fill me up!” you plead.

He began to moan with each push, you couldn’t stop the feeling from washing over you with rippling static, your voice sang out with raucous harmony as an orgasm broke your sense of reality and made you see stars. Tommy reacted to your verbalization by painting your insides with his semen, as soon as you felt the first release he aggressively lowered you down and bent over you, with each procession of cum he pressed himself further in and husked a rumbling moan. You could feel your insides swell with his fluids, it felt like a void was overtaken and removed, you felt strangely complete.

Tommy flopped over to his side, dragging you with him, he kept his still erect manhood resting in your trembling canal. He seemed to be coming back to his senses as his breathing levelled out,

“How y’feelin’?” he murmurs

You let out a long breath and smile “I’ve never been fucked like that before.”

He slowly slides out of your hole, a sputtering flow of cum followed. You clench your abdominal muscles and squeeze to release more of his semen out onto the bed, you turn over to face him and he lifts his head with his arm as he gazed into your eyes, you laugh and say,

“So, was that you losing control?”

He closes his eyes and sighs, “Yeah, I mean, I know what all happened but, it was like m’dang body was doin’ its own thing.”

You nod, -That must be as rough as it gets-

“How come you get like that?” you ask

He shrugged, “I do somethin’ like that when I’ve taken a life too. That’s why I worried. Not sure why I do it.”

You place your hand on his cheek and brush away his hair,

“Did you at least feel everything?” you were curious

He blushed, “I felt it all, like I was in a wakin’ dream or somethin’”

He kissed your forehead, “Did I do alright?”

You laugh, “Oh yes, I’d like to do it again please”

He chuckles at your words, but then sits up suddenly, “Shoot, what’s the time?”

You sit up with him and look at the wall clock near the door, “It’s 4:30, why?”

Tommy gets off the bed and shoves his dick in his pants, he searches for his shirt and mask then puts them both on. He turns to you and says,

“I told mama I’d be back t’help with supper! I gotta skitter on outta here ‘fore she gives me heck”

He sped out of the room but then ran back in, knelt down, removed his mask and kissed your lips followed by,

“I love ya baby, come on back home tomorrow ‘round evenin’ time. I’m fixin’ to show y’somethin’ that’ll make y’smile”

And with those words, he sprinted out of your house like a bat out of hell. You snicker to yourself -he calls his place home for me? How cute, he must consider it ours already-

You got off the bed and removed the sheets to wash, you got into the bathroom and started the shower to get cleaned up. You were surprised at the amount of cum Tommy had, it seemed like he had endless loads ready to go -He’d be a baby making machine if he wasn’t sterile… thank god for that-

You let the warm water blanket your skin as you loaded up the soap in a net sponge, you smiled to yourself thinking about his little kiss that he almost forgot to give you, -I wonder what he has to show me?

Next Chapter-

#what ya writin #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher community #thomas hewitt x afab reader #leatherface 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #my art #the fruit after the flesh #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher thirst #slasher fandom #charlie hewitt #sheriff hoyt #hoyt

44 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 5 months ago

Text

Robert William Thomson was born on July 16th 1822 at Stonehaven.

The names of the great Scottish inventors roll easily off the tongue; John Logie Baird, Alexander Graham Bell, Charles Macintosh, and John Dunlop inventor of the pneumatic tyre, or should that read re-inventor of the pneumatic tyre?

Indeed it should read re-inventor; the pneumatic tyre was in fact patented by one of Scotland’s most prolific, but now largely forgotten, inventors, Robert William Thomson on 10 December 1845, some 43 years before John Dunlop’s re-invention. Thomson’s “Aerial Wheels” were subsequently demonstrated in Regents Park London in 1847 and proved to all present that they could both reduce noise and improve passenger comfort.

Robert was born in Stonehaven, the was the son of a local woollen mill owner and was the eleventh of twelve children. Originally destined for the ministry, he apparently had great difficulty coming to terms with Latin,so refused his family’s wishes.

Instead, at age 14, Thomson was shipped to an uncle in the United States, where he served an apprenticeship with a merchant. Upon his return to Scotland, Thomson immersed himself in science, learning all he could about chemistry, electricity and astronomy, and soon began improving the design of mechanical devices in the family’s household. After serving an engineering apprenticeship, Thomson found work as a civil engineer and soon after designed a method of detonating explosive charges via electricity, this saved thousands of lives in the coal mining industry alone.

On December 10, 1845, at the age of 23, Thomson was granted a British patent for the very first pneumatic tyre, a device he called the “Aerial Wheel.” Intended for use on carriages (because bicycles had not yet been popularized), the Aerial Wheel used a rubberized fabric tube filled with pressurized air and encased in a thick leather outer skin. This leather “tire” was bolted to the rim, and the tread section was then stitched to the tyre’s sidewalls. By period accounts, Aerial Wheels yielded a much improved ride compared to conventional solid wheels, and even proved durable enough to accumulate more than 1,200 miles before wearing out. The following year Thomson applied for and received a French patent for his pneumatic tyre, and in 1847 he was granted a U.S. patent for his design.

Though revolutionary, Thomson’s Aerial Wheels were never commercially successful. The cost of the rubber needed for construction of the wheel’s pneumatic bladder priced the product beyond the means of most, and the improvement in ride quality failed to justify the expense in the eyes of the public.

It wasn’t until 1888 that another Scottish inventor, veterinarian John Boyd Dunlop, improved on Thomson’s design to create a pneumatic tire for bicycles, as a means of preventing the headaches suffered by his son when riding his bicycle on bumpy roads. In 1888, Dunlop was given his own patent for the improved pneumatic tyre, but two years later, this was rescinded due to its conflict with Thomson’s Aerial Wheel. Undeterred, Dunlop continued his work on the pneumatic tyre, and by 1890 was mass-producing tyres for bicycles at a factory in Belfast.

#scotland #scottish #history #Inventor

23 notes · View notes

transitranger327 · 3 months ago

Text

Of Deeds Greatly Done, a Niko/Tyvar fanfic

Summary: Niko has left their old life behind to study Physics at Shandalar University. Huatli is their literary roommate with a love for birds. Tyvar is a boastful Materials Science major in their classes. Their lives will weave together and their fates will intertwine. Read it on Ao3 or below the cut

—

I gripped my steering wheel too tightly. Everyone called it “The big day!” and, I hoped they were right. Just one stressful day that, once it ended, I could settle in to something more rhythmic. I liked rhythm. A regular timing that I could base everything else on. The less chaos, the better.

Slowly, I approached the dorm entrance. I tried to not think about the line of cars ahead of me that were full of parents helping their kids move in. Not me. I rolled forward two car lengths. A tall, buff man who vaguely looked like he was from my neck of the woods walked up to my car. I rolled down my window.

“Student’s name?” He asked.

“Niko Aris”

“Ah, a solo trip. See that parking space up there, off to the side?”

“Yeah.” I had really hoped I wouldn’t be singled out like this

“Pull into it. Some people will help you grab your things. Take them up to your room, then come back down and take your car over to the garage.”

“Thanks”

“Hey, and if you need anything, I’m Gideon.” His smile was warmer than a summer day in Theros.

I dutifully pulled out of the line and parked in the designated spot. Two upperclassmen in matching green university t-shirts—a woman of red hair, red shorts, and caramel skin, and a fairer man with brown hair, cargo shorts, and a blue hoodie around his wait—crossed the car line and greeted me at my shitty sedan.

“Hey Niko, welcome to Shandalar University, I’m Jace.” He extended his hand toward me. I shook.

“I’m Chandra.” She indicated a fist bump, which I returned. “WhatDoWeNeedToGrab?”

“Uh, just these two bins. The smaller one has some fragile things.”

Jace grabbed the smaller one, Chandra took the larger one. I grabbed my rucksack and poster tube and closed the doors. We crossed the car line and entered the stream of student movers in green. They nudged me into going to the desk. A pale woman in dark black clothes (the shirt having the school logo embroidered in green) sat there, with an array of small manila envelopes before her. “Name?” She asked.

“Niko Aris”

She picked out one, “Room 212”, and handed it to me.

I joined Jace and Chandra and the rest of the movers walking up the stairs. “Hey,” Jace said, “Don’t worry about being a solo move-in. I was one too, a few years ago. You’re gonna do just fine here.”

“That’s an understatement, Jace.” Chandra turned to me, “the man completely forgot when he was supposed to show up, he arrived late at night on day 1.”

The conversation was mercifully short, as we only had to walk up one flight of stairs. We turned to the left, walked past a lounge, and found my room. It was small, and thankfully empty for the moment. Chandra dropped my clothes bin on a roll-out bed, while Jace gingerly placed my shard box on a desk.

“All right Niko, see you around.” Chandra smiled as she stepped out of the room.

“Yeah, see you.” I waved goodbye at Jace leaving with her.

I took stock of the rest of the—no, MY—room. Above the desk hung a floating bookshelf. A light was attached underneath it. A large, hand-cranked window opened between the two halves of the room; my roommate hadn’t shown up yet, I took the left half. Underneath the window was a strange 9-drawer dresser; I’d have to figure out what my roommate wanted to do with that later. On the door end of the room were two closets, an empty space in front of one and a sink in front of the other.

And it was mine. Not my family’s.

I followed Gideon’s instructions and went to park my car in the garage.

—

When I arrived back at my room. A large family was now milling about it, I assumed of my roommate. Several languages were being spoken, but I definitely heard “mama, I got it” a few times. As I stepped in, I counted…7?…8? people. I tried being as discreet as possible, but the oldest man in the room proclaimed, “Ah, the roommate has arrived!”

“Yep, that’s me, I’m Niko, the roommate.”

A woman—slightly shorter than me, with brown hair in a tight braid—reached out, “I’m Huatli, your roommate. These are my parents,”—she gestured to the two people who looked older than us—“and my cousins, because Inti here doesn’t start for another two weeks.”

A man our age—taller, but with a braid the same length as Huatli—added, “Quarter system, teicu, you could’ve had that too.”

“Okay, we’ll get out of your way and let you unpack,” Huatli’s mom declared, as she hugged her daughter. “But if you two need anything, just let us know.” I felt her brown eyes pierce into my soul.

As the gaggle cleared out, Huatli tried apologizing. “Sorry for my family, they can be…a little much sometimes.”

“Nonono, it seems…nice.” I hoped I didn’t sound too desperate for a supportive family. “So, uh, should we introduce ourselves?” I wasn’t quite sure yet how to make friends in this kind of environment.

“We don’t have to.” Huatli turned to continue unpacking, hanging some very nice art prints of various birds. “But I do enjoy a good story.”

“I think I’ll save the storytelling for another day.” I started unpacking my clothes bin. “How do you want to split up the dresser drawers?”

“I suppose we could each have the 3 drawers on our sides. Maybe split the ones in the middle, or they could be for shared things.”

Shared things? “Well I don’t have a lot, not sure I’d take up that much space.”

“Well you still have some things.” She had moved on to shelving her books, “Want to tell me what’s in the box?”

“Oh this? This is my shard box.” My mouth had jumped in front of my brain, I’d never told anyone that I called the things inside it shards.

“Shards of what?” She had emptied one of her boxes of all its books, and turned to listen to me.

“Memories, events, places.” I pulled out a small rainbow button. “This pin was given to my at my first ever Pride. I was so out of my element, but a very kind drag queen gave me this, saying ‘welcome home’.” I showed it off.

Huatli inspected the pin, smiling, “Glad I’m living with a fellow gay.”

It really was a nice prospect, the person I was going to live with not hating who I was. I returned to unboxing my shards. “Every shard has a story, they’re memories made tangible.”

“A different way to tell stories.”

“Yeah…So what’s with all the birds?”

“My family is obsessed with them. My parents are ornithologists, that’s how they met.”

“Are you following in their footsteps?” I resisted the urge to ask if she had a favorite.

“No, actually, I’ve always had more of an artistic interest in them. Mockingbirds especially, singing songs and telling stories of others. I’m studying Creative Writing, if that isn’t obvious now.”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool.” I couldn’t bear to pull my last few shards (my sports awards) out of the box, so I slid it on top of the floating bookshelf. “I’m doing Physics myself, but I did consider studying a humanity or two.”

“Why Physics?”

“I used to play sports. I was always fascinated by how things moved. And I love the rigor of science; practice makes perfect, and all that.”

My clothes bin slowly emptied. Between the three drawers and the closet rack, I was able to stow it all. It took a minute to figure out how the roll-out bed worked, but I managed to put sheets on the mattress. I checked the schedule: 3 pm on move-in day was dorm floor meetings. I was free before then to grab lunch, maybe talk to other people. Huatli was nice, but I was pretty sure I needed more than one friend.

I threaded my room key onto a little keychain I had picked up from a pride festival booth in Glossion. “I’m gonna grab lunch, you can lock the door if you also plan on leaving.” Huatli nodded a quick okay before I started down the dorm’s hallway. The long, tight corridor of cinder block walls funneled the sounds of dozens of new students into my ears: glee, trepidation, ambition, camaraderie. Thru the glass walls of the floor lounge I saw a group of students chatting on couches; maybe another time. I turned into the stairwell to exit the building.

—

Having selected a few slices of roast pork and a side of mixed vegetables, I left the crowded serving area and made my way to the patio seating outside. The day was warm and sunny, the way I liked them (and apparently these kinds of days were not common here in Shandalar). I took an empty seat at a nearly-full table, the others rapt in attention of another student telling a story.

“…and lo, the Trolls had caught me by surprise. I was pinned down, slowly having the air crushed out of me. But I saw my opening, they were too focused on me, not enough on what surrounded them. I grabbed the bottom of the dumpster behind me and yanked it over top of me. It rolled into their faces and slammed the backs of their heads into the pavement. They were too dazed to climb out from underneath it.” The storyteller drank deep from his can of an energy drink whose name I’d never heard. “And that’s how I earned my name, ‘Trollstopper’. The young woman whose aid I came to gave it to me. We never managed to track down the devil who started the fight.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe you, that trolls exist and you fought them.” My skepticism had decided to choose fighting words, but I’d heard and fought plenty of braggarts like him.

He started to laugh, multiple necklaces of charms bouncing on his bare, tattooed chest. “Our new guest did not get to hear the beginning of the tale. The Trolls are the name of a gang of troublemakers from my home town.” He shoveled the vegetables from his plate into his mouth before asking, “so tell me, Steelhair, what great deeds have you done?”

It was the first time anyone had described my hair as anything other than violet. Even those who didn’t sneer at the mere fact I had dyed it, those who supported me still called it violet. I decided to give this red-haired muscle-bundle a shot. But not before I could try understanding him more.

“I prefer to let my actions speak for themselves.”

“But how will others know your actions, if the sagas do not speak of you?” He goaded me right back, “Tell us, so we may speak of you highly.”

I smile, “I never miss. Anything I throw always goes where I will it. I was the star athlete at my school.”

“A claim like that deserves to be shown. Kjell, let’s test the usual tricks” Trollstopper gestured to a tall, bearded, brown-skinned man. Kjell drained his cup, then set it down at the far end of the patio. “First,” Trollstopper said, “toss a rock into the cup.”

“That’s it?”

“Well if you don’t think it’s a challenge, try bouncing it off one of the tables.”

“Now you’re talking.” Behind me was a small area covered with pebbles. I picked out the roundest one. Tossed it between my hands a few times to get a feel for its weight and inertia.

Aim thru the target. Foot back. Arm forward. Fingers release.

Plink, Table edge. Plonk, In the cup.

A chorus of “nice”s and “pretty cool”s arose from the crowd. Trollstopper wasn’t satisfied, he knew I could do better. “Ever thrown one of these?” He held out what I believed to be a golf ball.

“Nope. Never played golf before”

“Three bounces off the ground, then the cup”

I bounced the ball a few times, gauging its elasticity.

Aim thru the target. Foot back. Arm forward. Fingers release.

Plink, Ground. Plink, Ground. Plink, Ground. Plonk, In the cup.

A few hoots and hollers emerged from a now gathering crowd. Kjell tossed the golf ball back to me. “Have them try the V,” he said.

Trollstopper smiled, “Everyone, grab trays and line up into a V.” He directed the assembly to form two lines, angling toward Kjell’s glass. “Four trays, then the cup. I’ve never seen anyone pull something like this off.”

“Maybe you won’t,” I said, “how about a wager?” Getting people to succumb to their overconfidence was always a joy.

“Humilation for the loser, or reward for the winner?” He drew closer to me, allowing me a better look at the rich variety of jewelry he wore instead of a shirt. Pendants carved from rock, thin chains of colorful metals, jewels embedded in wooden charms.

“Reward. Fifty bucks at the bookstore. I need a new sweatshirt.”

“It’s agreed then.” He reached out his hand; we shook. A firm but friendly grip from him. He stepped back to give me space. Someone in the crowd pointed a video camera at me.

Aim thru the target. Foot back. Arm forward. Fingers release.

Plink, Tray. Plink, Tray. Plink, Tray. Plink, Tray. Plonk, In the cup.

Cheers erupted from the entire patio. It felt incredible to be celebrated as I was, not what I was expected to be. Trollstopper just laughed, “well played, Steelhair. You don’t miss.”

—

“So do you have a real name?” We were now walking to the bookstore, “or am I gonna have to call you Trollstopper all year?”

A chuckle, “I’m Tyvar. My family name is Kell, but where I’m from, nicknames are more often used than our family ones.”

We walked past a line of empty tables with “book this for you organization” signs. “And where would you be from?”

Tyvar smiled, “Kaldheim, the land of snow and sagas.” His green eyes had a starry look to them, as if the place was remembered warmly. “So where do you hail from, where you have no warm clothes?”

“I’m from the south of Theros. We don’t get much snow, our weather is mostly like today all year round.” We dodged the ludicrously long line to the register, and made our way to the apparel section.

“And what name do you go by?” he asked, as I picked out a black hoodie with the college logo in green.

“Niko Aris. Tho I do like Steelhair as a nickname.” I said, as we started to head toward the line. “What are you studying? Because I’m pretty sure fighting in alleys and losing bets isn’t a major.”

He laughed, “You know Niko, I like you. I’m studying Materials Science.”

“We might be taking some of the same classes then.” The line advanced. “I’m doing Physics.”

“Excellent,” said Tyvar, “it’s always good to have a friend in class.”

The “friend” caught me by surprise. I wasn’t exactly expecting to make friends this fast, it usually took people longer to figure me out. As the line slowly inched forward, I kept thinking about “friend”. No judgement, not even a pause beforehand. Guys like him usually had plenty for me.

We reached the register. A very exhausted student took my new hoodie, as well as a few candy bars Tyvar had picked up along the line. He paid, and we cleared out of the store.

“Well Tyvar Trollstopper, I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“We’ll meet again, Niko Steelhair.”

As we parted, I felt a longing form in my heart. I desperately hoped we would see each other soon.

—

Notes: “Teicu” means “little sister/cousin” in Nahuatl. This fic treats the various planes as different regions of the same world.

@3rebor you wanted little gay people in your phone

#magic the gathering #niko aris #tyvar kell #mtg fanfic #huatli #vorthos #ao3 #university au #modern au #niko x tyvar #mtg #gideon jura #jace beleren #chandra nalaar

7 notes · View notes

kkengineeringworks · 5 months ago

Text

Working Conditions and Principles of Tube Mill Rolls?

Working Conditions

Material and Hardness: Tube mill rolls are subjected to intense pressure and friction. They are typically made from high-grade alloy steels with specific hardness to withstand wear and tear. Proper material selection is crucial to prevent premature failure and maintain dimensional accuracy.

Temperature: The production process involves high temperatures, especially in the welding and forming stages. Tube mill rolls must be capable of withstanding these temperatures without losing their mechanical properties. Heat treatment processes such as quenching and tempering are applied to enhance their thermal resistance.

Lubrication: Adequate lubrication is vital to minimize friction and prevent overheating. It also helps in extending the life of the rolls. The lubrication system must be regularly maintained to ensure consistent performance.

Alignment and Calibration: Precise alignment and calibration of tube mill rolls are necessary to produce tubes with the desired dimensions and surface finish. Misalignment can lead to defects such as ovality and thickness variations, impacting the quality of the final product.

Load and Speed: Tube mill rolls operate under varying loads and speeds depending on the material being processed. Understanding the load capacity and speed limits is essential to avoid overloading and ensure smooth operation.

Principles of Operation

Forming: The primary function of tube mill rolls is to form flat metal strips into cylindrical shapes. This is achieved through a series of roll stands that progressively shape the strip into a tube.

Welding: After forming, the edges of the tube are welded together using high-frequency induction or contact welding. The rolls guide the tube and ensure proper alignment of the edges for a strong weld.

Sizing: Post-welding, the tube passes through sizing rolls that calibrate its dimensions to the specified tolerances. These rolls are designed to provide a smooth and uniform finish while maintaining the structural integrity of the tube.

Straightening: Straightening rolls are employed to correct any deformation or curvature in the tube, ensuring it meets the required straightness criteria.

Quality Control: Throughout the process, tube mill rolls play a crucial role in maintaining quality control. They help in detecting and correcting any deviations from the desired specifications, ensuring the final product meets industry standards.

Conclusion

At K K Engineering Works, we understand the critical role of tube mill rolls in the production process. Our rolls are designed and manufactured to withstand challenging working conditions and adhere to the fundamental principles of tube forming and welding. With our expertise and commitment to quality, we provide reliable and efficient tube mill rolls that enhance productivity and ensure the highest standards of tube manufacturing.

For more Information:- Contact us:- +91–7838467173 Email:- [email protected] Address:-346, Dhargal, Vikas Nagar, Near Raj Nagar Extension Chowk, Behind CSHP School, Raj Nagar Extension, Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh 201003

#tube mill machine manufacturer #tube mill roll manufacturer in india #tube mill rolls #manufacturer

0 notes

fcukfodmap · 4 months ago

Text

Low-FODMAP Gluten-Free Pull-Apart Pizza Bread

I was so dubious of this recipe when I started it. I have had uneven luck with gluten-free flours (unless they're just being used as a binding agent). Also, this recipe calls for a yeasted dough, which I've never tried before with gluten-free flour.

Reader, it was fcuking amazing. Legit, I'll be making this again when I'm done with this asinine diet. To the recipe:

Low-FODMAP Gluten-Free Pull-Apart Pizza Bread

1 c warm water, divided

4 tsp active dry yeast

1/4 c sugar

3 c Bob's Red Mill All Purpose Baking Flour

1 tbsp + 2 tsp xanthan gum

2 tsp baking powder

1 3/4 tsp salt

4 eggs

1/4 c olive oil

4 tbsp Italian seasoning

2 c grated Parmesan

3 (ish) c grated mozzarella

1 lb chorizo, crumbled and browned

1/2 c chopped fresh basil

cooking spray

Place 3/4 c warm water, yeast, and sugar in a bowl. Let sit for 5 minutes or until bubbly.

Meanwhile, in a stand mixer, combine flour, xantan gum, baking powder, and salt. Whisk to combine. When the yeast mixture is ready, add that, eggs, and oil to the flour mixture. Blend on medium speed using the dough hook.

Add water as needed, 1 tbsp at a time, to achieve a sticky but touchable dough. I was never able to get the dough to keep from sticking to my fingers, but forged ahead anyway. Knead in the mixer for 5 minutes. Spray a Bundt pan with cooking spray.

In a medium bowl, mix the Parmesan and Italian seasoning. Scoop 1/3 of the dough into little marble sized balls and roll in the Parmesan mixture. I had the best luck with rolling the dough out into a tube, rolling that in the cheese mix, and then pinching off tbsp sized balls.

Evenly distribute into the prepared pan, then 1/3 of the cooked chorizo, then 1/3 of the basil, then 1/3 of the mozzarella. Keep layering for three layers, ending with cheese. If there is any leftover Parmesan mix, sprinkle this evenly on the top.

Preheat oven to 350F. Let the filled pan sit on the oven while it heats for 20-30 minutes. Place the Bundt pan on a rimmed baking sheet (it is going to overflow everywhere otherwise) and bake for 30-40 minutes. Allow to cool for 5 minutes and turn out on a platter.

Couple few notes: I just went ahead and used chorizo. even though I know it has garlic in it, because I'm of the opinion that it's a low-FODMAP diet, not a no-FODMAP diet. You could also use pork sausage tarted up with a bit of Italian seasoning and a little red pepper flake.

Which brings me to the next thing: I've been able to source an Italian seasoning mix that doesn't have either onions or garlic, but if you can't find such a thing, use a mix of oregano, thyme, and marjoram in whatever ratio pleases you. This can go in both the Parmesan mix and the pork sausage. I also used a lot of fresh basil because my cousin gave me a stupid amount recently, but that's not required or anything. You could just use some dried basil in the Italian mix instead and no one would be harmed.

You guys, this was so good. Breaking up the gluten-free dough into discrete balls made the tendency of gluten-free dough to lack coherence a non-issue. The oil from the chorizo and the mozzarella kept the dough from being too crumbly or dry. (For real though, use a pan under the Bundt pan, or you'll have a mess.) I'm going to make this again for sure.

Evergreen disclaimer: I am no dietician. I'm doing my best to minimize FODMAPs in my diet, but it's possible for me to be misinformed or mistaken about various ingredients.

#fodmap diet #low fodmap #recipes #gluten free #Bundt pan #pizza #pizza bread #pull apart bread #chorizo #gluten free flour #gluten free bread

7 notes · View notes

somediyprojects · 1 year ago

Text

DIY Paper Allium

Project by Kate Alarcón:

Alliums have always seemed a little bit magical to me. In a garden, the long, smooth stems blend in with the other greenery, and the big globes of tiny periwinkle flowers almost seem to float in mid-air. I imagine them growing in a fairytale garden, alongside foxgloves and moon flowers.

When I set out to design a paper version, I wanted to capture that enchanted, ethereal quality. I chose a very lightweight crepe for the petals, and constructed it so that each floret radiates out from a central ball on a long wire. This design gives each petal room to stand out from its little floret, uncompressed by the florets around it. I also scaled it up to be about the size of a large cantaloupe. The end result is a big, magical globe of delicate blue flowers that is almost a bouquet in its own right.

I wanted the flower to feel free-spirited, so I cut my petals freehand, which creates little variations between florets. Once you’ve cut several sets of petals, you’ll probably find that you don’t need the template anymore, either.

This allium isn’t especially difficult to make, but producing enough florets to complete the globe is a big undertaking. I suggest making them a few at a time over a couple of weeks while watching Netflix. You can insert them into the center ball as you go — it’s the safest place for them, and it’s motivating to watch your flower fill out.

If you run out of steam before finishing, don’t despair! My assistant Emma and I noticed that a partially covered flower looks a lot like a dandelion that’s been blown and wished on. And if that doesn’t do it for you, I’ve got just one of these guys up in my shop. —Kate

Photography by Desiree Swanson

Styling assistance by Emma Swanson

Supplies

allium templates here

Aleene’s Original Tacky Glue

fine crepe in “French Violet” from Rose Mille

heavy crepe in “Eggplant” and fine crepe in “Olive Green” from Castle in the Air

18 inch lengths of 18 and 20 gauge stem wire

paper scissors

wire snips

small awl

0ptional: millinery stamens that coordinate with your paper color (Rose Mille or 32° North for similar)

0ne 1.5” polystyrene ball (I buy mine at Michaels)

one 18″ length of vinyl tubing 3/8” outer diameter, ¼” inner diameter. (Home Depot and Lowe’s both carry it in the plumbing department)

A note about crepe paper grain:

The grain of the crepe paper runs parallel to the roll or fold. Crepe paper stretches horizontally, but not vertically, so you will almost always cut petals with the grain, placing the template so that the tiny wrinkles in the paper run up and down the template, not across. Cutting with the grain means that you cut in the same direction the crinkles are running; cutting across the grain means that you cut perpendicular to these crinkles.

For the stem:

Cut a 15” length of tubing at a very sharp angle. This pointy end will be the top of your stem, and you’ll insert the point into the polystyrene ball to help anchor the stem. Cut three of the 18 gauge wires so that they’re 16” long. Insert the wires into the length of tubing to hold your stem fairly straight while you wrap it.

Cut a long ¼” wide strip of the olive fine crepe across the grain. Dot glue at 1 cm intervals along the strip. Just below the top edge of your tubing, below the sharp angle you cut, begin wrapping the strip around the tubing, holding it at about a 45-degree angle to the tubing, so that it spirals down as you wrap. For a smooth finish, hold the paper taught and slightly stretch it as you wrap.

If you need to add strips, just glue the end of one strip in place, and begin wrapping the next strip about ½” above where the previous one ends.

For the flower center:

Using template A, cut a small oval from the purple heavy crepe. Dot one side of the oval with glue, and then place it on the polystyrene ball. Stretch the oval around the ball, and hold it in place a few seconds to allow the glue to set.

On the opposite end of the polystyrene ball from the center of the oval you just applied, pierce the ball with your awl. Use your awl to widen the top of this hole by holding it at a 45-degree angle to the surface of the ball and moving it all the way around the stem hole.

Cut one template B from the purple heavy crepe. Make sure the grain runs up and down the template. (The top edge should be zigzagged.)

Dot glue all over the purple crepe, including the points. Place the polystyrene ball about 2” from the bottom of the purple crepe piece. The points and the end of the ball covered by the purple oval should face up. Wrap the crepe around the ball, stretching it so that it molds to the ball.

Press and smooth the points down against the top of the ball. If there are any slight gaps between the smoothed down points, they will be camouflaged by your purple oval, and no white should show through.

Inserting the stem:

Pull the three 18 gauge wires out about four inches from the pointy end of the wrapped tubing. Insert these wires about 1” into the hole in your polystyrene ball. Slide the pointy end of your tubing up the wires, and pierce the hole with the pointy tip. You don’t need to insert the tubing very far; it just helps to have the tip anchored in the ball.

Gather the crepe “skirt” beneath the ball tightly around the stem and scrunch it to allow the glue to set around the stem. Dot a long ¼” strip of olive fine crepe with glue and cover this purple crepe skirt by wrapping the stem beneath the bottom of the covered polystyrene ball, until you meet up with the section of the stem already wrapped in olive crepe.

Floret center:

Snip your 20 gauge wire into 3.75” lengths. Cut a 1″ tall strip of the heavy purple crepe and stretch it all the way out as shown above. Cut this strip into sections that are wider than your template C. You can use the template C to cut this little fringe piece, or just freehand a similarly sized rectangle with three or four irregular points along the top edge. Dot glue along the bottom three quarters of this little piece. If you’re using double-headed millinery stamens, fold two of these stamens in half and place them on top of the jagged purple rectangle to make a little cluster of four stamens. Place the stamens on top of the little purple piece, so that the folded point on the stamens lies slightly below the middle of the rectangle. Place your short wire on top of the stamens, so that the tip of the wire lies slightly above the middle of the rectangle.

Wrap the rest of the rectangle loosely around your wire and scrunch the bottom to set the glue.

For the petals:

Cut a 2.25” x 3.75” rectangle of French violet fine crepe. The longer edge should run across the grain. Accordion or fan fold the strip (fold over, under, over, under) so that you have five layers of paper. Use the box around template D as a guide for how widely to space the folds (about ¾”). The fold lines should run with the grain and need to line up fairly precisely.

You should have a little folded packet of fine crepe about the size of the box around template D on the template sheet. Place template D on the packet, aligning the bottom of the template with the bottom edge of the packet.

The bottom right and left edges of the template D are marked with a dotted line that indicates that this section should not be cut, but rather aligned with the fold lines on your petal packet. Leaving this section intact on both sides will ensure that you have a continuous strip of petals.

In the photo, I’ve opened up my packet of petals to show what a continuous strip will look like, but you won’t actually open your packet yet. First, gently twist the bottom of the unopened petal packet. This will create evenly spaced crinkles that will make it easier to gather the bottom of the petal strip.

Untwist and open the petal packet. Make sure that each petal is facing the same direction and that none are twisted. Lay them side by side, very close together but not overlapping, across your forefinger, and then lay down your thmb to hold them in place. Pinch the width of the bottom of the petal strip to gather it. Dot glue on this pinched section and place your floret centers so that the top of the glue line is just above the bottom of the little piece of heavy crepe you wrapped around the tip of the wire.

Loosely wrap the gathered petal strip around the stamen wire. Adjust until the petals seem evenly spaced around the wire, and then scrunch the glued section of the strip around the stem.

Cut a ¼” wide by 4” long strip of purple heavy crepe across the grain, and dot it with glue. Beginning just under the petals, wrap the wire to about half an inch from the end of the wire, leaving a section exposed to help pierce the ball.

Push the petals back so that they lie perpendicular to the floret wire.

You’ll need between 80 and 100 florets depending on how densely you pack them into your allium.

Inserting the florets:

Beginning at the very top of the flower center, use your awl to pierce a hole in the covered polystyrene ball.

For extra security, you can dip the exposed wire on the end of your floret in glue before inserting it. (I usually don’t do this because it makes it hard to reposition the florets without tearing the paper covering the ball, but if your florets are falling out of the ball, then it’s probably worth it.)

Add a little circle of florets all around this first floret, spacing your holes about 1/8” apart. I don’t worry about being too precise with my hole spacing and just eyeball it, making sure that, overall, the florets look evenly distributed. Continue working downward, adding florets around the ball toward the stem.

The trickiest part of this project is adding the final florets around the base of the ball where you’ve inserted the stem, because you can’t push against the top of the flower to hold it in place while you insert the wires in the bottom. Instead, you can hold the stem firmly to anchor the ball while you insert the last florets up around the bottom of the ball.

#diy #crafts #paper #x

41 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 1 year ago

Text

Matt Casey- Fight For Us Pt3

Ella is at home with her nanny, a wonderful lady named Zuri, who has been with us since Ella turned 1

"There could be squatters inside" Severide says to dad

"We don't have long on this one" dad replies "YN make sure you and Shay are ready for smoke inhalation victims"

"Got it" I give him and nod. All I can do now is sit back and what the others work. Nervously I watch Matt run into the fire

"The smokes looking pretty bad" next thing I know Matt is walking out with an elderly man. I rush over to him and Matt helps the man sit down

"Your in good hands now. YNs the best of the best" I give Matt a little smile and place an oxygen mask over the man's head while I check for possible burns.

As Herrmann and Mills come out of the building the fire seems to get worse. Mills states that there was someone else in the building and he wants 1 more minute to get the person out. Dad calls it and we all move back just in time as the building collapses.

Unfortunately word gets out that a man died in the fire and now it's all in the news

"Happy Halloween grandad" Ella runs over to dad in her princess costume

"Happy Halloween Princess Ella. Guess what? After school I'm gonna break out a bottomless bowl of treats"

"Yay" she claps before running into the firehouse to say hi to everyone

"How are you holding up?" Dad asks

"Alright I guess" I shrug following dad inside holding Matts hand

"We will be once this is all over with"

"Momma Kelly gave me sweets"

"He did? How lucky. But let's eat them later yeah?"

"You best say by to everyone, mommas gonna take you to school" Matt says looking at the clock

"Hey, Lieutenant Casey, YN I lust

saw your car out front. Something happened to it" Niki says walking in

"Ella stay with grandad a moment" I say following Matt outside with Kelly not far behind me to see our tires slashed

"Damn it" Matt sighs

"You want me to drive Ella to school?" Kelly offers

"Please that would be amazing. I'll see if Zuri can pick her up after school and drop her off here" Kelly walks off to go and get Zuri "Matt?" I nervously say "please tell me this isn't anything to do with Voight"

"It probably some kids messing around. It's Halloween after all"

"Hope your right"

Matt ends up ringing a tow truck for the car, Severide has offered a lift home later while Zuri has picked Ella up from school and brought her to the firehouse

"Thank you Zuri"

"It's no problem I'll see you tomorrow"

"Ok let's tell uncle Kelly your here so we can go trick or treating"

"Truck 81, Ambulance 61. Man down, 3500 block of North Clarke"

"Ok I promise that as soon as I'm back we will go ok"

"Ok" Ella shrugs. I take her to niki and ask if she can watch her for a bit, which she agrees to.

Shay and I jump into the ambo and shay drives to the location. On arrival it's party central. We get out of the ambo and take the gurney out

"Halloween sucks" Shay says looking around at all the fake injuries. Thankfully Matt gets a location on the injured person and we follow him into the crowd. A man is lying on the floor shaking

"Shay take his head. Has he taken any drugs?" I ask a woman who's stood with us

"No, just a couple beers. Then all of a sudden

his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped"

she replies

"Does he have a history of seizures?" Shay asks as I place in an IV line

"I don't think so. But this is only our second date"

"Alright ready turn him over" I say as Cruz slides the back board under him

"Hey, let me help out, fellas.." a man in a fake fireman costume walks over

"Stay back, sir" Matt warns

"Yeah how about givin' me a C-4 tube and lidocaine drip?"

"Let them do their job" Herrmann says standing in the way of the fake fireman and me

"All right, come on! Move it out!" Matt says as Cruz and Hermann lift the man on to the gurney, Shay and I take off to the ambo.

After we arrive back at the firehouse I grab my things and finally take Ella trick or treating while Matt stays at the firehouse just for a few more hours.

#one chicago imagine #one chicago #chicago fire #chicago fire imagine #matt casey imagine #matt casey #matt casey x reader #matt casey x oc

37 notes · View notes

peonierose · 2 years ago

Text

Wildflower

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Keiki Lahela (F!MC) x Koa Haulani (M!OC)

Words: 4,000+

Rating: Teen. A few curse words.

Summary: Keiki who still struggles with trusting guys and entering a new relationship after Dylan broke her heart, meets someone new. Will she give Koa a chance or will she let her fear of getting hurt win and therefore miss out on a great connection with Koa?

A/N: This is my submission for @springfeverpitch Thank you for giving us the chance to write amazing stories. So my base is 1st base. My word is lipgloss (it will be in color) and my sentence is "I thought you might like (blank), so I brought you some."

Sidenote: Thank you to these wonderful ladies without whom my story would’ve never be finished @annieruok94 💚 @txemrn 💚@socalwriterbee 💚 Thanks so much 💚

Two months ago…

Keiki

I was standing in front of a big oval mirror, putting on some lip gloss. The tube says coral crush. It’s my favorite.

My best friend Alexis, or Lexi for short, and I got ready at her place for a college party at the boy's fraternity house.

It’s the last party to ring in the semester finals.

Apparently there’s going to be plenty of hot guys and

»You should let go and get a groove on«

Lexis' words, not mine.

I chose a black satin halter-neck dress with a soft flaring skirt. It ended at the knees. I paired my dress with my favorite heeled ankle boots with pearl studs.

Making me a bit taller than my 5‘5 feet.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this carefree and good. If my brother could see me now in my dress, I smiled.

Luna would just tell him to let me have fun, and he’d shake his head and yell ”Have fun, but please don’t get pregnant. I’m not ready to become an uncle yet.“

I love my brother, and now that we’ve repaired our relationship? He’s my rock. Any time I need advice, I can go to him.

I learned to trust him again and to forgave him, though we did come a long way to trusting each other once more.

It’s like Bryce said, ”Holding on to the past is painful. You should learn how to let go of the pain.“

I smiled at that. Because he’s right. Not that I’m going to tell him that. My brother's ego is already big enough, no need to inflate it even more.

I looked around Lexi's room for my little black and white striped purse. When I saw it, I took it and walked down the stairs, where Lexi was waiting for me.

”Looking good, Keiks.“ Lexi winks.

I rolled my eyes at her, and she laughed, snorted at the end.

She grinned at me and grabbed her car keys. When we’re inside the car, I wanted to put on a Britney Spears song.

But her next words stopped me.

”No Britney Spears songs. Last time we rode in the car together, you and Luna were singing Britney songs all the damn time. Please, no more Britney.“

I gasped.

”Really? I thought you liked her songs?“

”I lied. I didn’t want to say anything. Because you were having so much fun. But after listening to so many of her songs, I’ve gotta say it’s a no for me.“

I shook my head and grinned as I put on Shake it off by Taylor Swift.

Alexis laughed.

”That’s a song I approve of. This is why we’re best friends.“

I shook my head laughing.

The soft, salty breeze wafted through our hair and through the open sunroof of Lexi’s purple Jeep.

I lifted my hands up in the air as Alexis and I sang along to Taylor Swift's song – Shake it off.

A short drive later, we arrived at the party.

Alexis put the Jeep in park, turned off the ignition, and we got out.

Once outside, I stared at this huge beige painted house that sat on a freshly manicured lawn, surrounded by palm trees and hibiscus bushes. Making the night smell like a flower garden.

Several cars are already parked outside. People are milling on the lawn, drinking and laughing, when we arrived.

Looks like there wasn’t enough space to fit everyone.

Alexis and I exchanged a look and then just shrugged as we walked towards the entrance and almost got run over by a group of girls in neon bikinis.

Lexi and jumped out of the way.

So, this is what mayhem in the form of a college party looks like.

”Damn. Not what I expected.“ Lexi whistled.

I grinned as we got inside and saw people dancing everywhere on a makeshift dance floor.

One guy tried to grab my ass a mere second ago. I pushed his hand away. What a jerk.

If I wanted to be touched, I don’t want it to be some drunk person. Who won’t even remember tonight and is just trying to score.

”Lexi! Keiki!“ A redhead squealed. It’s Maren. She’s super nice. We've all hung out before. She’s followed by Trina, Malia and Ailani.

”So glad you guys came. It would’ve been a snooze fest without you.“

She gave me and Lexi a hug and then dragged us deeper into the crowd.

Lexi points to the stage where they’re setting up a karaoke station.

”Oh my god. A karaoke station! I’ll go and sign us up.“

I sighed and can’t even get a word out.

Maren and the others grin.

”Looks like it’s going to be karaoke night later,“ she grinned at all of us.

Lexi came back, grinning widely. Not revealing what song she chose. Making my nerves flutter in anticipation.

When it’s time for us to sing, my knees shook a little because I’m really not into big crowds. I never was.

A mic turned on and a tall guy with long black hair grinned at all of us. His blue eyes sparkled with joy.

”Alright. Alright. Looks like we’ve got our first round of beautiful ladies ready to sing a song. So, what are you going to serenade us with?“

He grinned at Lexi who winked at him.

”Shoutout to my Ex by Little Mix,“ she said.

”We’re singing what?“ I whispered loudly next to Lexi.

”Just relax. It’s a good song. Try to have a good time.“

”Lexi, I’m serious. Of all the songs you could’ve picked…“ I spluttered.

”Trust me Keiks, you need this cathartic moment.“ Lexi grinned softly at me.

My friends gave me an encouraging smile and nod. And some of my nerves settled a little.

As the first tunes came on I needed a second to get into the song, but once I did, all nerves just fell away, and I actually enjoyed myself together with my friends.

Koa

Frat parties aren’t really my scene. I prefer smaller gatherings to large ones.

I came because friends of mine tried to get me out of my funk.

Not only that, but I’ve been tired and restless lately, so they begged me to come to this party.

As my best friend Keanu pointed out earlier this morning

»Dude. Get out of your house. Stop studying. And just let loose, you need to get laid man.«

Subtle as always.

I chuckled to myself. I’m glad I have him by my side. He always knows when to kick my ass and get me out of my bubble.

So, here I am. At a party that’s already in full swing.

I squeezed all my 6‘2 feet through the crowd. As I tried to find some space where I can actually move around and not get elbowed in the ribs all the damn time.

As I get further into the crowd, I can see there’s a stage where some girls are singing karaoke.

About to walk away, I noticed one of the girls singing.

That dress! Flowing like a river and hugging all the right places.

Her brown hair flings back and forth as she’s singing a song by Little Mix?

My sister loves that band, that's how I even know the song.

I keep walking up to the front, so I’m closer to the stage. To have an unobstructed view of the girl who’s singing.

»I swear you'll never bring me down«

»Shout out to my ex, you're really« quite the man«

»You made my heart break and that made me who I am«

»Here's to my ex, hey, look at me now«

»Well, I'm I'm all the way up«

»I swear you'll never, you'll never bring me down«

The other girls are hugging each other as they sing what seem to be the last lines.

I don’t even notice the other girls. It’s as if they faded into the background.

Because I only have eyes for the brunette.

Who is she? And how come I haven’t seen her before on campus? Maybe because I live off-campus?

There’s something underneath that radiant smile of hers that is pulling me in.

Perhaps it’s the sadness with the last notes. It’s as if her brown eyes are saying, please don’t hurt my heart.

Because I can tell that this song means a lot more to her than to the other girls on stage.

I ask myself who hurt her like that? As if my heart pulls me closer to her only to say »You’re safe with me.«

Pulled out of my thoughts by my best friend's voice.

”So that was a good start. Thank you to Lexi, Keiki, Trina, Malia and Ailani for this wonderful performance. So, who’s up next?“ Keanu said, his brown eyes sparkled, and he pushed his black hair out of his face.

I grinned when I saw my best friend on stage.

He pointed to each girl on stage. Then he pointed to the girl I was looking at.

Keiki. The name rolled off my tongue. It’s a beautiful name and it fits her.

I smiles as I made my way through the crowd. I really needed to find an opportunity to ask her out. Even if it’s just to dance tonight. I know I’ll regret it if I don’t.

If life has taught me anything? It’s to take chances. Even if it doesn’t work out the way you wanted it to. At least you can say you gave it your all.

Keiki

I got off-stage, and I knew I look med like a sweaty mess. I'm so thirsty, I knew I would rather not touch the alcohol they had to offer. I’m in need of water.

”I’m going to get me some water. You want some?“

Lexi shook her head.

”I’m good.“

”Alright. I’ll be right back.“

I navigated myself through the crowd as I tried to locate the kitchen in this giant house. It’s more like a maze than a house.

Meanwhile, I moved around drunk people, which is a sport in and of itself.

When I got to the kitchen, I push med the white wooden door open. Thankfully, there’s no one in here.

When I shut the door to the kitchen, the noise of the party was a little muted. Which gave me time to catch my breath.

I’m about to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, when I heard the door opened again.

I turned around and did a double take when I saw the guy who walked in.

Cold air from the fridge blasted onto my face, as I’m holding on to the fridge door.

The water bottle I grabbed almost slipped out of my hands.

Where the hell did this guy come from? I haven’t seen him around. I had to look up, since he’s at least 6‘2 feet tall.

I swear, he looks like a real version of Ken.

Blond hair, bright sea green eyes, chiseled jaw.

He wore ripped jeans and a stark white shirt that stood out on his tan skin.

While I still stood there like an idiot. Unmoving. Mouth wide open and stared at him, like I’ve never seen a guy before, I try to mentally slap myself and to get out of my funk.

”Hi.“ He said as he walked closer.

Up close, his eyes looked as colorful as the green Severum fish. The rich green hue of the fish reminded me of this guy's eyes.

We’ve had a whole chapter on fish close to the end of the semester, so that’s why it’s so fresh in my mind.

”Hey.“ I waved nervously. Trying to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.

Can you say first awkward conversation? Get it together, Keiki. You’ve seen guys before.

But holy shit, none of them are like him.

”Did you try to escape the crowd too?“

I grinned, licking my lips.

”That obvious?“ I played with a strand of my hair. A nervous habit of mine. I’m usually not like one of those giggly girls, but for some reason he brings that out in me.

He walked over and reached around me to grab a water bottle from the still open fridge, his arm slightly brushed against my shoulder.

I got goosebumps all over my body, not just because of the cold air but because of skin on skin contact.

His cologne wafted towards me. Reminding me of the fresh and clean ocean.

He took a water bottle for himself and closed the fridge with a snap, making me pay attention to his next words.

”It’s not that. I wondered why a gorgeous girl like you would hide in here.“

I scoffed.

”I’m not hiding. I was getting some water for myself.“

”Sure.“

He nodded slowly and took a sip of his water.

Damn. Why does everything he does look sexy? Why can’t he be unattractive? It’d be easier not to like him.

He grinned as if he caught me staring at him. I blushed and looked away.

”I’m Koa by the way.“

”I’m Keiki.“

”Yeah, I saw you on stage. Great voice.“

”Oh…thank you. I was so nervous, but eventually, I had a lot of fun.“

I grinned at him, and he grinned back, two dimples showing in his cheeks.

Oh my god! I love dimples. I can’t stop looking at him. Feeling a magical pull.

But I tried to be careful, I didn’t want to fall for a pretty face. Only to get hurt again.

My spine stiffened and I leaned on the kitchen counter next to the fridge.

Hopefully, he didn’t notice anything about my posture changing.

The water bottle, half drunk, dangled from his fingertips.

”Do we have some classes together?“

He asked me and I thought back to my schedule. But I can't think of any classes I shared with Koa. I shook my head.

”I don’t think so. What’s your major?“ I asked.

”Marine biology.“

”Ah got it. That’s why our paths haven’t crossed. I’m studying to become a vet.“

He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

”No way! Damn that’s cool. But it’s a lot right?“

I nodded and laughed.

”It’s okay. The first semester was tough. Although I’m actually ahead of my reading schedule. And its fun. My brother is a surgeon. Becoming a vet felt more like my calling.“

He smiled softly, and it transformed his whole face from a pretty boy to a gorgeous guy.

I’m left speechless for a few seconds.

I smiled slowly and Koa grinned back.

”Smart and beautiful. Dangerous combo.“

My smile faded.

”If you’re trying to score, try again.“

His grin fell.

Oh, shit. I shouldn’t have said that. As I’m trying to scramble for another reply, his next words hit me.

”I was serious. I don’t give out compliments if I don't mean them.“

I raised my eyebrows.

”I…wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. It’s just… I’ve…“

He moved closer, making me want to move away. But I’m not able to escape his eyes. Which are full of understanding.

”No need to explain. I get it. When you’re ready, you can tell me. I can wait.“

”When?“

”You didn’t think I’d not ask you out, did you?“

”I could’ve said no. I just met you.“

He grinned.

”Something tells me you’re far too curious not to at least see if you like me.“

”Hmm. You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?“

”I don’t think I’ve got you figured out at all. I don’t judge or assume something about others. I let time be the judge. People sometimes need time before they’re ready to share certain things, and that’s okay.“

A slow smile spread on my face, but I tried to tone it down.

”Let that smile spread. I’d love to see it.“

I grinned.

”There it is. You shouldn’t be scared to let others see it.“

My stomach took this moment to grumble loudly.

Koa laughed.

”Looks like someone is hungry.“

I turned beet red.

”Yeah. I…uh…forgot to eat earlier…“

He shook his head.

”We can’t have that. Let’s see what this kitchen has to offer. Unless the guys have eaten everything. Which wouldn’t surprise me.“

”Do you live here?“

”Would you judge me if I said yes?“

He turned his head and grinned at me.

”I wouldn’t. I was just curious.“ I said defensively.

”Relax. I’m just messing with you, Keiki. My best friend Keanu lives here. I live off-campus. I visit him from time to time here. But he usually hangs out at my place.“

”What about you?“

”I live off-campus too. I live with my brother and his fiancé.“

I took off my heels and hopped on the counter. My feet dangled in the air.

”Sounds good. And you save money by not having to pay for your own place.“

He opened the cupboards and got out a couple of bags and put them on the counter.

”Looks like I found our dinner. We have a fine selection of chips. Sour cream and onion, bacon. And salt and vinegar. And my personal favorite, Hawaiian Hurricane popcorn.“

I looked at him and when I saw the colorful bag, I almost sighed. It’s my favorite snack.

”You’re kidding? I love Hawaiian Hurricane popcorn. I always add…“

”…spicy cheese dip.“

We said at the same time and then laughed.

”Oh my god, I thought I was the only one who eats it this way. Can we check if there’s any?“

”Way ahead of you,“ he said.

He stepped closer to me until his jeans grazed against my bare legs. Making me shiver.

He handed me a jar of spicy cheese dip.

”God, I haven’t eaten this in a while.“ I sighed in bliss.

”I used to eat this so much my parents had to hide it from me.“

”My brother who eats his gross oatmeal tells me how Hurricane popcorn and spicy cheese dip is gross?“

I grinned as I dipped my popcorn into the cheese.

He stopped eating for a second to stare at me.

”You’re mocking oatmeal? Oatmeal is actually good for you.“

When I just stared at him.

”To each their own.“ He winked at me.

”Good answer.“

We kept eating popcorn until the whole bag is empty.

”Damn that was good.“ He said and I nodded. Licking my lips.

My lip gloss is completely gone by the time we’re finished.

His eyes wandered to my lips. And I felt my heart racing in my chest. My breath caught in my throat.

He moved closer until he’s only inches away from my lips. I can feel his breath on mine.

”You’ve got something right here…“

He wiped away some cheese dip from the corner of my mouth and licked it away.

”Thanks,“ my voice came out breathless.

”You’re welcome.“ His voice is deeper than before.

He brushed a strand of my hair and put it behind my left ear.

I don’t know who leaned in first, but I gripped him by his shirt collar to pull him closer to me.

He put his hands on my legs, leaning towards me.

At first, it was a feather-light touch of our lips.

His lips are soft and warm against mine. He tasted faintly of salt and cheese from the Hurricane popcorn.

I pushed my hand through his soft hair, pulling him closer.

As he let his hand wander to my neck. Cradling it. Deepening the kiss in turn.

We were both reaching for each other. Wanting more. I’ve never felt this way before.

Needing him like my next gulp of water.

We both break apart for what seems like hours.

We both breathed heavier and just tried to gather our thoughts.

When the silence stretched on for too long, he put both of his hands on my cheek and gave me a soft kiss on my temple.

Feeling a warmth spread through my stomach. A sensation I haven’t encountered yet. It’s as if I’m coming home.

And that’s when the panic settled in.

As if he felt it, he put a finger on my still swollen lips.

”You don’t have to say anything.“

I kept staring at him.

”We’ll figure out what we feel when we’re ready.“

I nodded at him. Not able to utter a word about what just happened.

Suddenly, the door opened and both Koa and I jumped at the sound. Making me grip his bicep.

When I saw it’s Lexi, I breathed out.

I thought it might be a drunk person mistaking the kitchen for the bathroom.

I hopped off from the counter as Lexi came inside. She saw me and Koa still close together.

Me, still gripping his bicep, blushing furiously. I let my hand fall.

A big grin spread across Lexi’s face.

”Oops, looks like I’ve interrupted you guys.“

Koa and I stared everywhere, just not at each other. Too caught up in what happened mere seconds ago.

Alexis broke the silence.

”I’m Alexis. Keiki‘s best friend. We come as a package deal.“

Koa chuckled, totally caught off guard.

”Nice to meet you. I’m Koa.“

He winces. Lexi must’ve tightened her grip. I shook my head, not able to hide my grin.

”Just to tell you. If you hurt Keiki. I’ll hurt you where it really hurts,“ she smiled sweetly.

Koa coughed.

”Alright. But I think Keiki can take care of herself. She seems like a strong girl.“ He said with a strong sense of confidence.

Both Alexis and I raised our eyebrows. Alexis slowly grinned as she turns to me.

”I like him, Keiks. He’s not stupid. And he’s nice to look at. You’ve got that whole Ken vibe going.“

Koa turned to me, and I just shrugged, still not able to meet his gaze. So, I looked at a point over his shoulder.

”Hey, don’t look at me,“ I retorted. But then I gave in and looked at him.

He smiled and his aquamarine eyes danced with delight.

He’s about to leave, but then turned back and got out his phone.

”Mind if we swap phone numbers?“

Alexis put her arm around my shoulders.

”Of course she doesn’t mind.“ I elbowed her and she laughed.

”What she said. I don’t mind.“

I untangled myself from Alexis and Koa and I exchanged numbers.

He grinned and he’s out the door.

When he’s gone. I turned to Lexi and we both squealed and danced around.

When the door opens again, we turned around only to see Koa who grabbed his water bottle next to the fridge.

”Forgot this. Nice dance moves, by the way, Keiki.“ He winked at me.

Alexis and I pressed our lips together. When he’s gone again we sat down on the kitchen floor and I leaned my head on Lexi’s shoulder.

”Oh my god. See? I told you that you‘d meet a hot guy. You should listen to me more often.“

”Yeah. You were. I won’t make a habit out of telling you that you were right. Otherwise, your ego will get ginormous.“

Lexi laughed and pulled her knees closer together. I put my hand around her knees and she squeezed my hand.

”According to my sister and brother, my ego is already big enough. But thanks, I appreciate hearing I helped you out. And who knows, maybe you can thank me at your wedding for bringing you two together.“

I snorted.

”Let’s not jump ahead. Koa and I just met. I don’t want to plan so far ahead.“

She turned her head and looked at me as if she picked up on something in my voice.

”What’s wrong Kei? Are you scared?“

I put my hand against my stomach, leaned against the cupboard and hugged my knees.

Not wanting to admit that, the way Dylan ended our relationship over a text, still haunts me.

The pain lessened. But all the memories, kisses and hugs we shared? Yeah, it’s still there and sneaks up on me from time to time.

I try not to think too much about Dylan. I’ve moved on. Though, I’ve been hesitant to go out with anyone.

It’s been over two years since I moved to Honolulu with my brother and his fiancé, Luna.

I’ve gotten better, being surrounded by family. But every time I meet a guy I actually like? I get scared he’ll hurt me like Dylan did.

So, that’s why I’m so hesitant to let anyone in. However I want to try to be more open-minded to new relationships.

From what I’ve seen so far, Koa seems really nice. And his kisses are fantastic.

Alexis bumps my shoulder, making me come out of my thoughts.

”Look! Just try to get to know him. Koa is a nice guy. I’ve heard good things about him. And if there’s no connection, then you’ll find someone even better.“

”What would I do without you?“ I said.

Alexis winked at me as she got up and offered me her hand.

”You’d make bad fashion choices.“

I grabbed her hand and stood up.

”Excuse you? I have an excellent fashion sense. Thank you very much.“

She put her head to the side, and together we walked outside the kitchen and joined our friends.

Singing and dancing the night away.

Koa

I’m still in a daze over the kiss with Keiki. Damn, I’m screwed. It’s as if we were trying to brand each other with our kisses.

Not that I’m complaining. I will never forget the way she tasted. And I know I won’t be able to get her out of my mind.

Before walking out of the house, I looked around for my phone and then I cursed. I must’ve left it in the kitchen. As I entered the kitchen, a slow grin spread across my face.

I looked at the counter and saw my phone sitting next to the fridge. I rolled my eyes at my stupidity. Someone could’ve walked in and taken it.

Before I left the kitchen, a little coral orange tube caught my eye.

When I moved closer I could see it’s a tube of lip gloss. I turned the lip gloss around and the back said »Coral Crush«

I grinned and without having to guess, I know it belongs to Keiki. I put it into the back of my jeans pocket.

I’m going to give it back to her when we see each other next time.

Hoping against hope she’ll give me a chance to show her that whoever hurt her the way he did, I’m not him.

I walked out of the house with a lighter spring in my steps.

When I looked up I saw the stars glistened in the midnight sky, and the scent of the hibiscus bushes made me smile.

I’m damn happy to have met Keiki, I have this strange feeling that I’m in for a couple of surprises. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A week later

Keiki

”Keiks? There’s a package for you,“ my brother said when he entered the kitchen.

I looked up from my phone.

”Thanks.“

I took it from him and when I opened it a small letter fluttered out, together with a tube of lip gloss.

I smiled as I saw my favorite lip gloss on the table.

I took the letter and read it, just to see who got me my favorite lip gloss.

Because I looked everywhere, but I must’ve lost it at the party.

Keiki,

you lost your lip gloss at the party. But since it was almost empty, I thought you might like a new tube of Coral Crush, so I brought you some.

Koa

I finish reading the letter and smile to myself. He spells trouble. But never did I want to be more in trouble than with Koa.

#Wildflower #Keiki Lahela #Koa Haulani #open heart #spring fever pitch

48 notes · View notes

raaorqtpbpdy · 2 years ago

Text

Truth in Rumors

Based on the Phic Phight prompts: When Wes Weston is pulled out of school under mysterious circumstances, Danny thinks he'll have a little fun starting a conspiracy of his own. Turnabout is fair play, after all. It gets a little out of hand (from @thatst) and Wes gets in an accident while working on a plan to convince people that Danny is Phantom. Thanks to the ambient ectoplasm in Amity and the constant exposure to ghosts, he doesn't die... but he does get a lot clumsier in a very familiar way. (from @ajitated)

AO3 Link

[Warning's for mentioned character half-death, and swearing]

Wes had always been one of those perfect attendance kids. As long as they'd gone to school together, Danny couldn't think of a single time Wes had been absent, unlike Danny, who missed class all the time, especially since high school started. So, when Wes was mysteriously absent from school one day, the people who knew him took notice.

All they guys on the basketball team were muttering about how weird it was that Wes wasn't at school. A few others from his classes were remarking about the serendipitous break they were getting from his unceasing conspiracy theories. Normally, there was nothing all that interesting about a student being absent for a day, but Danny knew a golden opportunity when he saw one.

This was a chance to finally get back at Wes for constantly trying to expose his identity. This was his chance to make up a little conspiracy of his own. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

"Did you hear what happened to Wes?" Danny asked Mandy in history class, which she shared with both Wes and Danny.

"You mean that he's absent today?" she asked. "Yeah, I noticed."

"No, I mean did you hear why he's absent?"

"No? He's probably got a cold or something."

"Nope," Danny said. "He was trying to prove his insane theory about half-ghosts and got himself ecto-contaminated. My parents got a call about it last night and had to rush over 'cause they're the only people around who know how to take care of something like that. That idiot's in quarantine with a strain of ghost flu."

"No way," Mandy said, though she didn't appear to actually doubt his story at all. It did rather sound like something Wes would do. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Danny insisted. "I got woken up last night by my parents prepping their equipment to treat him and they told me about the call."

"Damn, Wes may have gone a little too far this time."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Danny scoffed. "My parents can treat ghost flu in their sleep. Serves him right, if you ask me. At least I'm getting a break from him rooting through my trash looking for 'evidence'." Danny put finger-quotes around the last work and rolled his eyes, illiciting a scoff from Mandy.

Mandy was an incurable gossip, which was why Danny had told her first. The rumor spread through the school like wildfire. When Wes was absent again the following day, the rumor mill worked over time. The rumor Danny had started grew twisted. Now Wes had become a ghost and would likely never return to school. Now the Fentons had already captured him and were running experiments. Now Phantom had rescued him and sent him to the Ghost Zone forever.

On the third day, Wes returned to school. He seemed human enough, as far as anyone could tell, but at the same time, something was off about him. Something strangely familiar. When Wes came back to school, he was suddenly clumsier than he'd ever been. Danny heard some of the basketball players complaining about how much Wes dropped the ball during practice, and the chemistry teacher complaining about dropped beakers.

It wasn't until the chem teacher remarked, "He's like Danny all over again," that he made the connection. "I swear if I have to hand out another lifetime ban from touching sensitive equipment, I will. The school does not give me enough funds to keep buying new beakers and test tubes."

Danny had to talk with Wes right away.

"Fenton!" Wes shouted, cornering him in the hall after school. "Care to explain all the stupid rumors about me dying and being banished to the Ghost Zone? I know this is your fault."

"Care to explain why you're sinking into the floor?" Danny shot back. Wes was normally taller than him, but they were eye to eye.

"Shit!" Wes flailed, and Danny pulled him out of the ground with a sigh and dragged him into the staff bathroom, locking the door behind them.

"What the hell did you do to yourself?" Danny demanded. "Did you actually do what I think you did in your stupid quest to prove I'm a halfa?"

"A halfa?" Wes asked. "Is that what you are?"

"Don't call me that, it's a slur," Danny said. "Explain yourself."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Wes began. "I was... investigating the scene of that big ghost fight. Your mom was using this big, bazooka thing, and threw it away when it got damaged and stopped working. It was pretty much trashed, and she left it behind when the fight was over."

Wes had been trying to learn as much as he could about ghosts in order to prove that Danny was one. He shouldn't have messed with such a dangerous weapon, but he brought it home, to his room. While he was examining it, the weapon suddenly turned back on. Wes' voice caught in his throat as he described the way the Fenton Bazooka had malfunctioned, opening a ghost portal halfway inside Wes as it exploded.

"I don't know how I'm even still here, to be honest," Wes finished. "It completely trashed my room. It was more painful than anything I've ever experienced. I should be dead dead, but... I still have a pulse, and I'm still breathing."

"Yeah, being a half-ghost is weird like that." He wanted to be smug, because it sort of served Wes right, but he also knew exactly the kind of pain Wes was talking about, and he couldn't help a pang of sympathy. "You should know better than to touch discarded Fenton tech. Amity Park Sanitation dedicates a full day of training for how to safely dispose of my parents junk."

"How was I supposed to know that?" Wes groused, crossing his arms over his chest. "How could I possibly know that it was going to explode on me like that?" Danny sighed harshly. How could Wes not have guessed that? Fenton tech blew up all the time.

"Well, congrats Wes, you're like me now," Danny told him, finally mustering up some of the sarcasm he'd wanted to berate Wes with from the beginning. "You're half-ghost, which means the government has legally stripped you of all your rights as human beings, and if my parents ever find out what you are, you'll be on a metal autopsy table before you can pick out a ghost name."

"Well I'd have a lot less to worry about if someone hadn't spread rumors about me being a ghost all around the school when I was absent for two days."

"You're one to talk!" Danny scoffed, although he did sort of have a point. Danny would have to make sure those rumors were fully put to rest now that he knew the truth. As much as Wes annoyed him, he didn't want the asshole to be in genuine danger. "I was just trying to mess with you to get back at you for trying to expose me. I had no idea what happened to you. You know damn well what you're doing and you still try to expose me. Maybe now you'll learn to appreciate why I keep it a secret in the first place." Wes visibly tensed, then looked down at the tile floors, ashamed. "I'm surprised you haven't gone and revealed yourself to the whole school already, just to prove you were right."

"I... I'm sorry," Wes mumbled. "I never realized how hard this crap was. I've only been like this for three days, and I already had to miss school for two of them because my eyes wouldn't stop glowing and my hair wouldn't stop floating. Now I'm back and stuff keeps falling right through my hands."

"And my parents haven't even threatened to tear you apart molecule by molecule yet."

Wes flinched, but nodded. "I know I shouldn't be asking, because we're the furthest thing from friends, but please help me," he begged. His green eyes glowed red at he fixed Danny with a pleading gaze. "I have no idea what I'm doing, and I promise to stop trying to expose you, just please, please help me figure this out! There's no one else I can ask!"

Danny wanted to say no, to tell Wes to figure it out himself, like Danny had, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to. He just couldn't leave someone to drown like this when he had the ability to save them. "Fine," he relented. "You're eyes are glowing by the way." Wes cursed as he jerked back and covered them. "It doesn't matter if it's only me around, but you should at least figure out how to tell whether they're glowing or not. Let's see your ghost form."

"Um... alright," Wes agreed. "I'm not sure if I can go back and forth on command yet."

"Close your eyes, and focus on your core," Danny instructed. "Switching between forms feels like turning something upside-down inside you. It's just a matter of finding the part of you that's human, and flipping it over. Visualize the transformation, and then switch." Wes nodded.

A moment later, there was a bright light like a camera flash, and when Danny stopped seeing spots, there was Wes, floating before him. His close had switched to a black and green version of Casper High's basketball uniform. His red hair was teal, and floating around his head as if he were underwater, framing his glowing red eyes. His freckles glowed now too, bright specks of light against his translucent skin.

"Yup, just as I suspected," Danny remarked, nodding approvingly.

"What?"

"You're ghost form doesn't look half as cool as mine does." Wes growled, and blue-green beams of ectoplasm shot from his eyes right at Danny, knocking him against the sink.

"Shit! Sorry!" Wes apologized. "I genuinely didn't mean to do that! It just happened!"

"All good," Danny grunted as he used the sink to push himself back up to his feet. "But we've got our work cut out for us."

#phic phight 2023 #phic phight #fic #things i wrote #dp #danny phantom #wes weston #halfa wes #danny fenton

45 notes · View notes