#anchor bolt calculator | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madelynraemunson · 1 year ago

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 016: 86 It, Baby

When they find out about you and Eddie, his cult following of jealous dancers team up to make your life a living hell. How much of it will you be able to tolerate? And how much of it will Eddie actually allow?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

word count: 8.1k words

disclaimers — fluff, smut, angst, oral (fem-receiving), pussy worship, office roleplay, fingering, boyfriend!eddie 😍 • bullying, body dysmorphia, body shaming, humiliation, sabotage, profanities, spreading rumors, billy being a narcissistic fuck again

(x)

Chapter 015 recap

"You sure you want to sign up for all of this?"

• • •

From here on out, it's going to be Shy Girl and Eddie... and nothing... NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

“Sugarcoated lies unfolded…”

Chapter 016

♡

“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Dustin shrieks.

“CORNER!” Mike hollers. “Hot plates coming through!”

“Shit shit shit shit!” This is the third order Lucas has messed up. “Argyle’s gonna kill me. Where the fuck is Eddie?!”

It’s Hellfire’s busiest Tuesday and the owner is nowhere in sight. And neither are you — Hellfire’s number one dancer.

Surely that has to be a coincidence. Because the last thing on your mind while everyone is going crazy looking for Eddie is going crazy in his office, your legs spread out on his desk while riding his tongue, his mouth and fingers penetrating your sensitive clit with calculated strokes and thirst-quenched laps, Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he prowls for your release, the remnants of it trickling down the wooden table and soaking all of his nearby paperwork.

…Right?

“Have you seen Eddie?” Nancy demands as she waves her dead curling iron in the air.

“No!”

“Will…have you seen Eddie?” Jonathan asks.

“No!”

Argyle isn’t having any better of a day.

“Ayo, who THE FUCK keeps ringing in the Eddie Special?! We 86’d it an hour ago cuz we’re out of thousand island!”

The frazzled cook shifts his focus back to the grill, wiping sweat away from his forehead in exhaustion. He then bolts to the fryer, ignoring the mountain of tickets piling up on the line.

A few muffled curse words escape his mouth. Goddammit Eddie. Where is that fucker?!

“Eddie?!” Dustin calls out as he’s directed to voicemail.

“Eddie!” Chrissy attempts.

“Eddie?!”

“Eddie!”

“EDDIE!” you moan. “Oh, fuck. Eddie…”

“Thought I told you to call me sir.”

Eddie’s lips hum against the ones between your legs as he devours you, tip of his tongue flicking across your folds before circling inwards, licking…sucking…moaning and spitting as he reels you in for a delicious rotation of all possible combinations.

“My sweet, sweet secretary,” Eddie playfully swoons. “They’re gonna have to wait baby, you taste so good.”

It should come as no surprise that a Dungeon Master like Eddie is obsessed with role-play. Yet it stuns you like it’s the first time, watching him devour you like a starved man in the wild, the heels of his palms anchoring you to his desk by how they hook your thighs in place.

“Love the skirt you wore just for me,” Eddie blubbers. The easy access just does something to him. And the way it hugs your body... Eddie is practically scraping his knees on the floor trying to make you feel good. “Love your sweet pussy. Love everything about you…”

“Ohhh…fuck…” you mewl as the echos of your wet cunt filter the air around you. “Yes, Eddie…”

“You my naughty little secretary?”

“Yes, sir…”

Eddie hums again while you toss your head back, bliss-filled and fucked out, squirming underneath him as your ankles dangle limply at his shoulders. Your pornographic moans that bleed into desperate squeals cause Eddie to subconsciously buck his hips and thrust, eagerly sinking his mouth further into you as he sucks harder on your clit. And just before he can pull down his pants to pound you senseless around his office, another type of pounding awaits for you two at the door.

“EDDIE OPEN THE FUCK UP!” Henderson screeches as he knocks. “Our ass is grass out there, what are you doing?!”

Eddie sighs in anguish, irritibably looking over at the ruckus waiting for him on the other side of that door. "I'll be right back, babe.”

You use this time away from Eddie to gather yourself and your belongings. Since you had been folded up for a while, your legs wobble like jelly when they meet the floor.

You’re a little bummed that you two didn’t meet your goal of Orgasm #5 of the day, but you’re content in knowing that there is always an opportunity to later in the night.

The door swings open abruptly causing you to jolt. Eddie’s back.

“Shy Girl,” he huffs.

“Eds,” you respond.

“I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth,” Eddie warns you. “But please put your clothes on.”

“Huh?!”

Eddie fills you in on the shitshow that is taking place outside. Hellfire is in desperate need of an extra server, and you are the only one with qualifications that can do it. But as much as you want to help, you are reluctant. It is a huge pay cut on your end if you took that deal.

“I make way more stripping than serving, Eddie,” you frown. “I need to pay the bills.”

“I can give you a cash advance,” Eddie bargains. “A-and even all my tips from the tip-out tonight. We just really need someone, baby. Just this one time, please. Only for today.”

Your man starts towards you with a flirtatious demeanor now, swooping in to grab your hips that he adores oh so much. You bite your lips, trying your best not to cave.

“And…” he lowers his voice huskily. “I’ll be sure to have another kind of tip waiting for you at home…”

You giggle into his chest, laughing at the clever pun that he had up his sleeve. And because he’s so charismatic and convincing, you take him up on the offer.

“Okay, fine,” you agree. “Just this one day.”

When you’re fully clothed again, Eddie hands you a Hellfire baseball tee and apron for you to wear as you switch from dancer to waitress. And after one final look at yourself, you reach to turn the knob of Eddie’s office door to go outside. Someone is already waiting by the foot of it when you pull it open.

Henderson.

Confused, Dustin looks at you. You look at Dustin. Dustin’s eyes wander over to Eddie whose got the most devious smirk on his face. Finally Henderson looks back over at you and sighs, issuing you a “do I even want to know?” type stare.

You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the awkwardness that just took over.

“Well…we going out there or not?”

“Hey. Look over there.”

Your ability to take up space in more forms than one inevitably catches the attention of the other dancers. Justice and Emmy in particular. The two watch as you strut around Hellfire with the club t-shirt on instead of the Nothing that they’re used to, ordering the younger gentlemen of Hellfire around like you were the shift lead.

“Lucas stay back here and help Argyle cook the food,” you instruct. “I will run it out. Mike, you start bussing and sweeping so the area looks nice. Dustin, I need you to make set-ups. Will, I need you up front as host and cashier. Someone needs to be at the front at all times. When everything is less crazy, we can all assume our usual positions. Right now it’s just DAMAGE CONTROL.”

Hellfire is not like a standard sit-down restaurant... for obvious reasons. However, the foundation remains the same. Everyone has a lane. They need to stay in it.

The boys are more than receptive to your instructions and follow through almost immediately. Eddie observes as it all goes down. He beams at you in awe, fantasizing about the situation because it's all his mind knows when it comes down to you.

“It’s like she’s leading them into battle…" he sighs breathlessly. "She’s so hot.”

“HOT!” Argyle screams as he dishes an appetizer onto the line. “Someone throw some chives on there for me, yeah?”

Just when you're about to crash, Steve and Max make their way inside the club, clearly worn out from their shift at Newby's, and stunned by the turnout for Hellfire at the beginning of the week.

“Holy shit, why are men so horny on a Tuesday?” Max exclaims.

She hands you your coffee that she made for you herself.

“This drink’s called The Pollywog. Dark and earthy, should do the trick.”

“Coffee does for me what crack cocaine would do for others,” you remark. “Thanks sis, I owe you.”

You pan your gaze over to Steve, because you know that he and Max usually like to order food and sit around for a bit before he drives her home.

“Uh, just two waters,” Steve mutters. “Max and I will order when you guys are less slammed.”

You smile at him, resting a grateful hand atop his shoulder. “‘ppreciate it, Stevie.”

The strippers eye you. Again, intently. You’re close with his roommate too? Little do they know you were also fucking his roommate for a short period of time.

This goes deeper than any of them thought. You and Eddie must be exclusive. And to them, it seems like you’re getting special treatment, fucking your way up to the top like a certain woman once did.

“Looks like we might have another Isabelle on our hands.”

“Look at her walking around like she owns the place.”

“She thinks she can take over Hellfire because she’s fucking Eddie huh?”

“I mean why wouldn’t she? She’s also friends with Chrissy. Birds of a feather.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It feels like you’re submerged underwater judging by the increase of pressure in the room.

The dressing room is eerily quiet. Everyone is whispering instead of the usual singing and shouting. Your intuition senses that people are staring... almost in a way that makes you feel like an art display, or that you have food in your teeth. The only ones who are still acting normal are Chrissy and Nina, while the girls you usually joke around with at their respective vanities have gone radio silent.

Just then, there's a knock on the door.

“Hi my beautiful girls,” Eddie coos as he makes his way into the dressing room.

He keeps his eyes covered until everyone says it’s okay.

“Quite the lunch shift huh?”

“You have no idea, Eds,” Nina sighs. "But it sure as hell paid off."

"Yeah, Eddie," Chrissy agrees. "We all got tipped so well, your tip-out is probably astounding too!"

Speaking of which...

"Just what I came here for," Eddie points a finger gun at you before unveiling to you a huge wad of cash. “Here are my lunch tips, like I promised.” You reluctantly take it from Eddie as he ruffles your hair endearingly.

Eddie's first mistake was not only making you the center of attention, but giving his tips to you — on top of the tips you already had from serving — in front of the other girls. In a way, those were their tips. They only became his, well, yours now, because of the tip-out policy.

Now they're really annoyed. The girls who have you on their radar wait until Eddie leaves to approach you. And when they do you're almost taken aback.

“You’re starting to do a lot of the positions,” Emmy observes.

"Uh, yeah from time to time," you respond gently. "Today Eddie really needed an extra server on the floor so I jumped ship to help the boys."

“Must be a natural at taking charge.”

"Oh…I'm hardly ever a dom," you try to laugh it off. "If I am it's usually just for show. I'm more of a soft dom and sub if you ask me."

"Just for show, I see," that's all Emmy seems to get from what you said.

"I'm sorry... did I step on some toes here?" you question her. She's almost shocked at how ballsy you are. But then again, she doesn't know you. "Because you seem pretty fed up with me today, Emmy."

“We’re just really protective of our Eddie,” she replies dryly. "That's all."

“Girl, trust I don’t want any trouble,” you try to sound confident but your voice fails you. Why would you say that? You shouldn't say that, you're his girlfriend. They should be the ones treading lightly.

“Oh we would hope so too,” Emmy glares. “Cause we’re watching.”

And just like that, the girls you thought you were on good terms with strut back outside in a single file line, their icy stares fixed on you until they are out of sight.

The atmosphere feels arctic now. Eerie. Unwelcome. It's like the remnants of Isabelle Munson still linger after all.

“The hell what that all about?” Nina questions when she walks over to you.

“It’s a looong story,” you huff.

STRIKE ONE

"And then Emmy says to me, wE'rE jUsT rEaLlY pRoTeCtIvE oF eDdIe AnD wE'rE wAtChInG yOu da-da-da."

You stop your frantic pacing to plop onto Eddie's bed in exhaustion.

"Nina and I were just standing there like... the fuck?" you continue. "WHAT is this bitch's deal?"

Eddie chuckles at your recap of the events from the day before, lazily strumming along to a Metallica song he's learning on the guitar. You're displeased with your man's lack of concern for the issue at hand.

You shoot back up quickly.

"Matter of fact, what’s everyone's deal?" you demand. "They were all chill and nice to me when I started Hellfire but the SECOND they found out we're seeing each other it's like I'm their mortal enemy. And for what? It’s not like any of them stood a chance with you anyway. Thirsty ass bitches.”

"OH!" Steve hollers from the living room, causing you and Eddie to flinch. "TOUCHDOWN TAYLOR! Wooo hooo! That's what I'm talkin' bout baby."

Eddie puts his guitar down and starts towards you, realizing now how much this has taken a toll on your mental. He also closes his bedroom door all the way, allowing for privacy between you and him, and Steve with his precious Colts game.

"I'm really sorry the girls made you feel that way," he sighs. "It's just been a while since I have been exclusive with somebody. They know how badly Isabelle broke my heart. And well, ruined my life.”

You scoff, looking away. Eddie is there to ground you once more, placing his index and middle finger on your chin, using them to redirect you back to his reassuring gaze.

“They're just looking out for me,” he assures you. “Promise."

"They thought I was gonna be another Isabelle," you pout. "That's really offensive, you know."

"They said that with Chrissy too when she was new," Eddie recalls. "I mean…You should've SEEN the amount of drama that unfolded whenever she and I would even breathe the same air. You would've thought at one point, they were gonna chop her head off and parade it on a wooden stake like in Lord of the Flies."

You fold your arms irritably.

"This isn't Lord of the Flies, Eddie. This is real life."

"Lord of the Flies is also real life. In a way."

“Not sure which side of the battle you're on here, babe.”

Eddie then goes onto explain that Chrissy also faced the wrath of Eddie's OG dancers. But after the Hellfire Girls realized that Chrissy was not going to be a threat, they backed down.

Every explanation earns him an eye roll. Eddie needs to realize that being seen as a threat should never be an excuse to be mean to someone. Especially since those girls have been buddy-buddy with you before.

"Strip clubs can be... very catty," Eddie concludes. "The longer you work in the industry the more you'll realize. Take it with a grain of salt, okay baby? All that matters is us."

You don't budge. A part of you still feels discredited, despite kind of seeing where Eddie is coming from. Unless this worsens, he can’t 100% take your side. Eddie needs to be mediator for now.

He scratches his head.

“I also…need… my dancers,” Eddie points out. “So from a manager-slash-owner standpoint, there isn’t much I can do about Mean Girl shit other than keep it under my radar. But you’re a Hargrove, honey. You hold your ground, get your check, fight some chicks outside the club if you have to…”

You giggle at the last part. Eddie reels you in.

“…and then come home to me.”

And then he flashes you the Munson smile, that ever-so-charming million-dollar attribute that won your heart in the first place. It all causes you to blush.

"Okay," you say.

Before you two could swallow each other whole, Steve knocks on the door. Eddie pulls it open.

“I’m ordering pizza, any of you guys want some?” Steve questions. “Hope you don’t mind pineapple.”

Eddie grimaces. “You’re fucking disgusting. Make half of it a Meat Lovers and I’ll pay for it.”

“Fine,” Harrington huffs. His eyes travel over to you longingly. “Hargrove? You okay with pineapple?”

“I’m okay with whatever,” you mutter. “Anything’s better than a can of worms.”

Steve's eyes peer over at you then over at Eddie. He doesn't quite understand your analogy, but still seems supportive of you nonetheless.

“Okay…” Harrington mumbles before closing the door. “Pineapple and Meat Lovers it is.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It all makes sense why you ate most of Steve's pizza instead of him a couple days ago. You were clearly PMS-ing, and today you started your period.

At least now you know the Plan B you took was effective.

As grateful as you were, you're still having an awful time 'surfing the crimson wave'. Mood swings were also at an all-time high. Anything anyone was going to say to you was surely going to make you combust.

You're also bloated, a huge insecurity of yours because what you packed for today is rather skin tight. What typically would make you look snatched today looks relatively unflattering today. You try to give yourself grace. Body changes during a cycle is normal. It's part of being a woman.

"Shy Girl!" Eddie calls out to you from the other side of the dressing room. "You gonna be out soon, baby? Got a few regulars of yours at Vecna's Lair!"

The Hellfire Girls' ears perk up when they hear "regulars". Whatever is up their sleeves today cannot be any good.

You call back out to Eddie as you make your finishing touches. "Yes, coming!"

"I don't know," Emmy says, projecting her voice slightly louder than she usually does. You look towards her general direction as she talks. "I feel like a lot of people are uneducated about dressing for their body type. Cuz when you don't dress correctly for your body, it just makes everything look so unflattering."

You look down at your body and start to feel a little sad. Although the conversation was between Emmy and Justice, you can't help but feel attacked.

You decide to make your way over to the DJ and show him your songs for the night. Your choice for the evening is Candy by Doja Cat because its slow and sexy rhythm will allow you to move in a manner that is flexible for this particular phase of your cycle.

After thanking the DJ, you confidently strut back down from the stage, channeling your inner Marilyn Monroe walk as you continue to move around.

"Oh my god," you hear Justice say. "That's kinda really embarrassing. Can you imagine?"

Suddenly, you hear Eddie's voice trail after you. Out of all people.

"Baby!" he exclaims.

Stunned, you turn around. "Yes?"

"I uh," Eddie stammers. "Let's get you back into the locker room huh?"

You're confused. What could possibly be going on to cause such panic in Eddie's eyes? Why was he so frantic, pushing and hauling you into the dressing room — and not in a way you'd like.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eds, slow down!" you exclaim. "What is it?"

Eddie gulps as he tries to catch his breath. You wait for him to talk, but he's too busy grabbing some spare towels and even some paper ones.

"Respectfully, Hargrove," Eddie says as he strides back over to you. "You need to change outfits or something."

Like Billy, you immediately go into defensive mode.

"OH IT LOOKS THAT BAD, HUH?” you demand. Your mini-freak out earns you some laughter from those girls, but you're too aggravated to give them your attention. “Sorry that I'm a little bloated today! Sorry that I’m a normal human being whose body is different depending on the day."

"It's not that, baby," Eddie insists. "It's just that... your bleeding? It went through."

Looking in the mirror now, you see a HUGE blot behind you. Your tampon had gotten dislodged and now there is blood all over your cute baby blue set. Heat begins to simmer at your cheeks.

Those fucking Hellfire Girls. How dare they not tell you?

When you glare back over at them, the Hellfire Girls are trying to conceal their laughter. What's even more infuriating is that Eddie doesn't seem to notice. But to be fair, he's too fixated on you to pay other women any mind. You want to pop them all, see how funny it is after.

"Seems like you're having a rough day," Eddie comments as he strokes your back.

"I am," you admit. "I tried to tough it out and come to work today, but nothing is going right." The air is quiet again when the girls see Eddie touching you lovingly.

You turn your body back towards the mirror and look at your ruined set in dismay. Eddie hates seeing you upset. Resting his gentle hands on your shoulder, he begins to barter.

"How about…” Eddie says. “You take the rest of the night off? I’ll take you home right quick. To my place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” your man nods, causing you blush. “Harrington and I have a shit ton of ice cream so you can help yourself. Lay in my bed, watch something on Netflix... When I'm off work and done visiting Wayne, we can cuddle, and I can give you belly rubs. Sound good?"

"Sounds like heaven, actually."

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him. Eddie is so tender and sweet when he lets his walls down. You’re grateful that he decided to lean into the unknown when it comes down to you. Such a good boyfriend already.

The Hellfire Girls can’t help but eavesdrop on your little exchange. Suddenly, Eddie speaks again.

“Are we okay?” Eddie questions you with his beady eyes.

“Yes,” you smile. “We’re more than okay.”

Eddie kisses your cheek. He leaves his peck there for a few seconds before letting go. "I'll come scoop you in 10 once I get everything squared away. Then it’s junk food and cuddles all night long.”

Eddie makes sure that the girls hear this entire conversation. As you start to pack your stuff, Nancy drops in with a graceful smile, spoiling you with pads, tampons, and some ibuprofen. Meanwhile, Jonathan packs you a Sprite in a to-go cup with a smiley face, and Argyle spoils you with your usual — chicken wings, flats only.

The Hellfire Girls are fuming. Their attempt to embarrass you didn't go as planned. Instead, they got a lovesick Eddie with a Shy Girl on her way to his house to drink hot tea, scarf down some junk food, and relish in a heat pack of sorts and cuddles all night. And Eddie’s friends indirectly rushing to your defense.

But this humbling experience doesn’t stop their games. No no, it only just issued them a new set of information and ammunition for more intense blows.

The torment isn’t stopping here. The girls are going try harder.

---

STRIKE TWO

It didn’t stop at the subtle jabs.

If there was an opportunity to inconvenience you, the Hellfire Girls took it. Like calling Eddie on his day off — while he’s out with you — to come scope out a problem that could’ve been fixed without him. Or stealing your song choice when they heard you talking about it with Chrissy, and how you planned on using it for your set. Or “dropping” breakable items like your nail polish on accident and blaming it on their ‘complete and utter clumsiness’. Funny, because Eddie is always talking about how poised they are and a myriad of other good things…because that’s just who your boyfriend is at his core: a lover and supporter of women. Unlike some people.

It was Dustin’s turn to grocery shop one day. And while the Eddie Special is back on the menu, it was the waffle fries’ turn to be 86’d. Mike’s girlfriend, Jane keeps eating them and Wheeler of course always forgets to take inventory.

"So what does 86 mean?"

You're eating lunch with a couple Hellfire Girls in the dressing room when service industry lingo is brought up. Everyone eyes you, from Emmy to Lady to Kassidy. Justice seems to be holding her breath.

"86?" you repeat just to make sure.

Kassidy gives you a look, almost a "duh" kind of look that makes you feel slightly stupid.

"Yeah, heard you talking about it with the kitchen staff."

"Oh," you say. "Oh well 86 means to get rid of something. Maybe because it's not available anymore, or out of stock. Not needed, even."

"I see..." Kassidy responds.

"Wish we can '86' people," Lady mutters.

The comment earns her a snicker from Kassidy and Lady. It makes you feel weird inside. They couldn't have possibly been talking about you, right?

You walk away to throw away your food, and while you’re away from them their laughs intensify. Now all they could talk about is ‘86’ and their own personal spins on it.

Oh they were most definitely talking about you.

You decide to leave the dressing room and hang out at the hookah lounge before your next set. It was clear you weren’t welcome and you weren’t about to be in the company of people who were only going to drain your energy.

The audacity of it all still leaves you appalled. Plotting behind your back is one thing, but the fact they had the guts to say it and do things in front of you now is scary.

𓆩♡𓆪

“And then they said, ‘Wish we could 86 people’,” you recall angrily. “That basically implies they want to get rid of me.”

“That sucks, sis,” Billy sighs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

You’re on the phone playing catch-up with Billy on your day off. Meanwhile, Eddie is playing a video game with his online friends, allowing you to use his room to pace around in frustration.

“And one time when I was on my period, I bled through,” you continue. “And then Eddie-”

Billy interrupts you before you could positively advertise your man. You would think your brother would want to know that his twin sister is in good hands judging by the way Eddie took care of you when you were feeling like absolute shit…how instead of forcing you to perform he sent you home early and ate junk food with you and gave you a heat pack and belly rubs to help with cramps…But no.

“I don’t wanna hear about that girl stuff,” Billy gags. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

Classic Billy.

“…okay,” you huff and digress. “But you get the picture, right? These girls have it out for me.”

“Oh for sure,” Billy agrees. “It’s one-sided beef because they’re intimidated by you. I hope they get the shit pimp-slapped out of them for being dicks to you.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” you mumble.

“But I would,” Billy laughs pridefully.

No matter how awful the girls were being to you, you wouldn’t wish anything upon them like Billy described. They were already miserable anyways, judging by how awful they were being to you for no reason. If anything you’d wish them healing and some love because they clearly needed it.

“I wish I could go over there and give ‘em a piece of my mind,” your twin brother continues, the thought of violently attacking women quite possibly giving him a hard-on via the other line. “No one can be mean to my sister BUT ME.”

The execution of his words makes your stomach turn. Because as those words are uttered, you’re back in the San Diego rental, screaming and crying, clawing at Billy to get him off of you because apparently your change in tone towards him was enough justification for you to be accosted against the wall.

“That was really uncalled for, Billy,” you scold him. “Time and place, please.”

Suddenly, the vibe changes. You can practically feel the heat through the phone.

“What, you’ve never heard of that expression before?” Billy demands. “It was a fucking joke, don’t get so butthurt.”

“Is it really a joke?” you hiss. “Because if we revisit the timeline, you haven’t been exactly nice to me either.”

“OH MY…” Billy sighs in exasperation. “I can’t say SHIT to you without you crying about it. Maybe those bitches are onto something. Maybe YOU’RE the fucking problem.”

“How can you say that?!” you shout.

The change in your tone causes Eddie to look up from his computer. Like second nature, the tears free fall from your eyes as you scream at your brother through the phone.

“After I vent to you about EVERYTHING, Billy, really?!”

“I don’t know, maybe since so many people have a problem with you…including ME,” your brother snaps. “'Think it’s time we look at the common denominator.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU! I don’t know why I tell you anything anymore!”

“YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO BITCH!” Billy screams back. “I’m GLAD you and that scrawny red-headed BRAT moved out. My life has NEVER BEEN THIS PEACEFUL!”

“Yeah cause you were SO unbothered you had to FLY HERE and CONFRONT ME AT MY JOB, RIGHT?”

It’s a few more nasty exchanges of words and threats before you hang up and chuck your phone at the wall. Startled, and probably reminded of his own traumas, Eddie’s first instinct is to duck. You watch as he trembles slightly, like a puppy during a thunderstorm, before removing his cupped hands away from his ears.

He then makes his way over to you, demeanor shifting from alarmed to alarmed for you.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers to you in consolation. “Hey hey hey hey. Come here. Come here.”

He rocks you in place. Immediately you collapse into Eddie’s arms. You’re absolutely tired. Tired of the Hellfire girls. Tired of putting on a happy face for your little sister 24/7. Tired of Billy. Tired of feeling like a burden.

“I fucking hate him,” you wail. “I hate him, I hate him. I hate him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t,” you tell Eddie, and yourself. “Fuck him. Fuck California. Fuck everything.”

“That’s right baby,” Eddie whispers. He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re staying here with me.”

“With you.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Eventually you do get over it and decide that Billy and the Hellfire Girls don’t deserve any of your time and energy.

Just in time for another work shift. Today you’re doing personal lap dances at VECNA’S LAIR, but it’s not too busy so you’re essentially scanning the room in search of clients for the first hour.

Your eyes light up when you pinpoint a few regulars. You skip on over to the first one.

“Hi, Barry!” you exclaim. “How are you?”

“Oh, god! Hello Shy Girl!” Barry replies. He looks happy to see you, but oddly not particularly excited. “How…have you been?”

“I’ve been well! Long time no see!” you smile. “How are your boys?”

“They’re doing well,” your regular nods. “They’re working on their college applications right now, and the younger one has been scouted for some schools on the East Coast for football.”

“You must be so proud.”

“Very!”

It seems like Barry has cut the conversation there. Strange, because he almost always requests a dance. You decide to push for more information.

“Sooo, are you in the mood for a dance today?”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Barry blushes. “But no thank you, not today. I’m trying to save money so I’m just gonna have a drink and go.”

Now THAT’S really odd. First of all, Barry is LOADED, hence being a regular. And even if being frugal was the case, what was his ass even doing at Hellfire? You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by prying further so you just leave it at that, wishing Barry a lovely rest of his day and going about your day.

When you leave, you’re taken aback when Justice makes her way over to your client and asks him the same question.

“Hi, Barry. Would you like a dance?”

“Oh, hi! Yes, I’d love one!”

You nearly get whiplash just by how fast you crane your neck back over to them. What the actual fuck? Eyeing them curiously, you watch as Barry slips a 20 over to Justice, to which she takes from him seductively as she sinks onto his lap. Her eyes trail over to you, somewhat satisfied with herself when she sees you watching. Your blood starts to boil. She just took your regular. And in a sense, your money.

But that’s still something you don’t have time to entertain. So you strut over to your next regular, Asher.

Sweet, sweet Asher. He’s significantly younger than Barry. Finance major, freelancer, only child in his early twenties and his parents are rich. Asher has always been nice to you, and like Steve, spoils the fuck out of you when you’re his dancer.

“Hey you,” you bat your lashes at him. “Long time no see!”

“Oh my god, Shy Girl!” Asher exclaims. He doesn’t hug you like he usually does, but he’s still happy to see you. “It’s been a minute. I actually didn’t think you were coming in today.”

“I’m always on Thursdays,” you point out. “You always get a dance from me.”

“Ohhh, that’s right,” Asher recalls. “You and Eddie call today Friday Junior Junior.”

“Yeah, silly!” you giggle. “Speaking of dances, would you like one?”

Your question generates a similar reaction from Asher like Barry had given you. It was then that you knew something had to have been up. But nothing could’ve possibly prepared you for what Asher was about to say.

“Oh, no thanks!” your client gracefully declines. “I think I’ll wait until you fully recover. I hope you’re okay with that boundary of mine.”

Appalled, you try to construe what he meant by that.

“Yes, I respect your boundaries of course…” you say. “But, what do you mean by get better?”

“Aren’t you sick?” Asher questions. “And like…taking antibiotics for something serious? Cause if you are, you shouldn’t be at work.”

Asher respectfully ends your conversation right then and there. It’s like a mental door has closed on your face. Completely distraught, you walk away from your other reliable regular, just to have Lady walk up to him and be granted permission to give him a dance.

This is ridiculous. You need to get to the bottom of these rumors right away. On your way to the bar, you run into Nina. She extends her arms out to you, eyes widening as you walk towards her.

“OMG, Shy Girl!” Nina exclaims, rather panicked. “What are you doing here girl, you need to be home recovering?!”

“Recovering from what?” you snapped. “I just had TWO regulars turn me down but then say yes to dances from other dancers. Why did I have to learn through the grapevine that I’m sick?! Which I am not, by the way.”

“So… you don’t have gonorrhea?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“WHO THE FUCK SAID I HAD GONORRHEA?!”

Nina’s face drops when she realizes. You don’t even have to pry any further now. The pained look on your friend’s face told you EXACTLY who started that rumor.

Now those girls are pushing it. Because now you’re losing out on money and clientele. Absolutely aggravated, you storm back into the dressing room to collect yourself because you’re sure as hell not going to let them see you fall apart.

When you slam the door, you allow yourself to have a good cry. Luckily, Nina and Chrissy are the only ones in there with you. The only girls you trust at this establishment besides Nancy.

You’re not sad. You’re crying because you’re angry and frustrated. Nina and Chrissy understand, swarming you with hugs and validating back pats, letting you cry until you had no tears left to do so anymore.

“Shy Girl,” Nina frowns. “I have no words.”

Your bottom lip quivers profusely as you shake your head.

“I just don’t understand,” you choke. “Why are they so horrible to me? I didn’t do anything to them.”

“I’m really sorry love,” Chrissy rubs your back as she lays her head on your shoulder. “Unfortunately, I understand that all too well. They did the same thing to me too.”

STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT.

“God, you need a new car, Munson.”

You’re smoking with Eddie in his van during your ‘joint’ lunch break. It’s become a tradition now for you two to take your meals at the same time to spend time with each other because you’re both way too busy to be affectionate work.

“Babe, really?” Eddie huffs jokingly. “Put some respect on Shiela’s name. She’s been through hell and back with me.”

You giggle as you take a huge drag from your blunt, inhaling then expelling, coughing up the remainder and taking in the slight comfort of a warm chest. You pass Eddie the blunt to finish it.

“But you’re right though,” Eddie admits with a sigh. He fiddles with the blunt before putting it out on his ash tray. “The good news is I’m caught up on Wayne’s bills. Next 'big boy' purchase is a new whip.”

“That’s awesome baby,” you smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Or a motorcycle,” Eddie smirks. “I’d love a bike.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he quips.

Eddie leans over the center console to kiss your temple. When you hum in pleasure, he begins trailing down your neck.

“Thought you liked bad boys.”

You and Eddie proceed to have a healthy debate. It isn’t about the bad boy aesthetic like Eddie thinks it’s about, but more so the practicality of the situation. Eddie needs something to lug groceries in when he's out running errands, and with Wayne still getting active cancer treatments, the old man needs a ride to his appointments. And that poor man has aged out of the Bad-to-the-Bone 'cyclist scene, you’re afraid.

“Speaking of practicality,” Eddie says. He nods towards your red Toyota Camry that’s parked on the opposite end of the lot. “Why’d you park there? Move your car closer so I don't have to walk you too far tonight.”

You look through the rearview mirror to locate your baby. Eddie was right. It was parked further than it usually is, and if your boyfriend isn’t the one escorting you to your car tonight it’s going to be Henry or one of the other boys who are sure to complain. By the door would be convenient for everyone.

“Okay,” you say. You kiss him. “Be right back.”

You climb out of Eddie's van and make your way over to your car. After several tries, you hit a scary realization.

Your car won’t start.

You try again. And again, and again. Still, to no avail. Eddie eventually pops his head out, wondering why the ordeal is taking you so long. You exaggerate a shrug to him so he could see your sense of panic from a distance.

"What happened?!"

"It won't start!"

“Let me at her,” Eddie replies. “I was a mechanic before I started a business…”

You and Eddie switch places and you decide to wait for him by the door. Jonathan startles you a moment later when he opens it abruptly.

“Sorry, Shy Girl. The boys need Eddie for a minute can you go grab him for me?”

“He’s taking a look at my car, it won’t start,” you explain.

Jonathan’s face drops. “Oh no, that sucks. Hope you don’t have to take it in.”

“I hope so too. Either way I’ve got a ride home. It’s just inconvenient.”

Jonathan, whose knowledgeable about cars too, starts asking you some screening questions to help identify the problem. You assure him that nothing was wrong with it throughout the week, and there surely wasn’t anything wrong with it earlier.

Soon Chrissy comes out too.

“Hey!” she chimes. “Where’s Eddie? The boys are looking for him.”

“He’s looking at my car, something’s wrong with it,” you explain again. “It was fine this morning but when I went go move it, it kinda just—”

“Found the culprit,” Eddie grunts uneasily.

Your boyfriend waves you three over and you all follow suit. There's soot and grease all over your man's hands, but that is a kink to be explored much later. For now, the astonished look on his face is one of the main things to worry about.

Eddie points to your gas tank.

“There’s a shit ton of sugar there. The fuel in that tank is practically semi-solid.”

Sugar in your gas tank. THOSE BITCHES PUT SUGAR IN YOUR GAS TANK. You and Chrissy look at each other immediately, both of your suspicions about whose responsible practically ringing true.

“I know who fucking did it,” you shake your head.

“I-” Eddie’s face drops. He is utterly disappointed in the Hellfire Girls. “I just don’t even know what to say.”

He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. Suddenly, your phone pings. It’s a Venmo notification.

“But less saying more doing, right?” Eddie tries to chuckle optimistically. “I just sent you $2K. Wayne’s cancer is acting up again, and I have to take him to his oncologist tomorrow. You let me know if they quote you for more than that.”

“Two grand?!” you shriek. “It’s bad huh?”

“Yeah…I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it, sweetheart,” Eddie frowns. “You might need a fuel tank replacement.”

Now you and Chrissy are fuming. Nina eventually comes over to check on everyone as well and is stunned by the news she hears. She starts to angrily take off her hoops, those fucking cunts, but Jonathan stops her.

“I’ll fuck ‘em up!” Nina insists. “I’m from Nocturna, baby. We don’t mess around there.”

“My ex was from Chula, and my brother is Billy,” you tsk. “We don’t play around either.”

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll call the tow company to come take it to Dave’s. I can take you home tonight, baby. It’s no issue.”

“No!” Chrissy snaps. “Nina and I are taking her home. If there’s no issue here, fix the evident ones inside!”

“Let’s go back inside Shy Girl,” Nina grumbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Your two friends are at either sides of you, linking your arms with theirs in solidarity. Those girls inside are about to get an earful. NO ONE messes with YOU and gets away with it.

“EDDIE,” Chrissy forewarns before slamming the door. “FUCKING PUT THEM IN CHECK, OR WE WILL.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. Otherwise, you would totally be ripping some cheap extensions out out some heads right now. You can’t believe these girls would go as far as to damaging your property, all because Eddie found someone who made him happy after his shitty divorce. If you did to them what they did to you, you know they definitely wouldn’t like that.

CLOSED FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT DUE TO STAFFING ISSUES. SORRY FOR EDGING YOU :/

It was Eddie’s decision to close early because there was just so much that needed to be taken care of. But hearing Eddie scold and hold the girls accountable in his office, you know — the same office he was screwing you in — was music to your ears.

But even that state of bliss is short-lived. Because like a deadly virus, when the smear campaign doesn’t work, it mutates into a much larger issue: retaliation.

“See what happens when you snitch?” a voice demands. “Eddie loses out on business.”

You turn your head around to see Justice mad-dogging you with her arms crossed. You inflate your chest and stand up to her, showing no signs of intimidation.

“You’re fucking his shit up, just like his sorry ex wife,” she says to you.

You start to walk closer to her, to which Chrissy and Nina go after you right away.

“Woah woah woah there sister!” Chrissy stops you.

“Hey hey hey,” Nina joins in, helping her pull you away.

But Justice isn’t scared. Why should she be? She’s been here longer than you. She’s known Eddie longer than you. But she still has no business butting into Eddie’s. Especially if it fuels the fire that she and her friends desperately wanted to start.

“If I were y’all… I’d back the fuck up,” you advise her. “I don’t think you realize, but you’re fucking with a Hargrove.”

“Okay… and you’re fucking with Eddie’s Day Ones,” Lady comes to Justice’s defense, sneering at you condescendingly. “Sorry, Valley Girl, we don’t know what that means here in Hawkins.”

“Oh but you will. After damaging my rep AND property.”

“Oh was that a threat? You’re threatening us now huh?”

“Eddie’s not gonna fuck you,” Nina spits at them. “You do realize that right?”

“I mean…good,” Kassidy chuckles. “Wouldn’t wanna fuck him after Miss Gonorrhea did.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Do you accept the risk? Do you accept the risk?

All this time you thought Eddie was asking you because he knew he still had some baggage to sort through. But now you’re starting to wonder if there was a double meaning.

Eddie’s OG dancers are obviously in love with him, there’s no doubt about it. It stopped becoming a matter of “protecting Eddie” when they started sabotaging your experience at Hellfire after learning of your involvement with him. Had you been just another dancer, this would never have been the case.

Eddie tries to text you. But you don’t have the strength to reply. The next few days is spent in isolation, using this time alone to contemplate about what it is you truly want.

You came to Hawkins to escape Billy’s never-ending torment. Now that torment has seemed to take on a new form, and your inner peace is something you’re never ever going to sacrifice again.

Your first Monday back, you make your way over to Eddie’s office. And it’s almost like Eddie knows. As much as you know how deep that abandonment wound sits in Eddie’s soul, you knew you still had to put yourself first.

“Hi, Eds.”

“Baby…” Eddie pleads at a whisper. “Don’t do this. I can already see it in your eyes.”

You weren’t leaving him. You want to be with him more than anything. But this extension of him? You can love it to bits but still not want anything to do with it. Especially if the environment is unbearably toxic.

“I just think…our relationship is bleeding into work,” you swallow hard. “And I probably need to go somewhere else if we want this to last.”

“Please don’t word the first part like that…”

Eddie doesn’t tell you because he knows it’s not your intention, but it starts giving him war-like flashbacks to when his marriage with Isabelle started bleeding into work. The abandonment wound with her — and everyone in his life except Wayne — cuts so deep. He NEEDS that bandaid. But for your well-being, you needed to rip it off.

“It’s what we get for shitting where we eat, I guess,” you sniff, trying to laugh the burden of it all away.

“I warned you,” Eddie chokes. “Didn’t I?”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I just couldn’t help how I feel about you.”

“Then stay!” he begs. “The good outweighs the bad, sweetheart. Our friends love you so much.”

“I love them too, but if I’m gonna get verbally accosted, harassed, laughed at, and have sugar put in my gas tank then what’s the point?”

The tears leave Eddie’s eyes easily, and he doesn’t stop them from doing so. If only the Hellfire girls saw the pain they have caused you AND this man — the man they swore up and down that they were ‘protecting’.

“It’s either that or you fire 60 percent of your dancers and I WON’T let you do that,” you gulp. “It’s best to get rid of just one.”

“Just please, let’s talk it through.”

But there’s nothing left to talk about. No Eddie, you shake your head. What’s done is done, and what needs to be said has already been communicated. And as Eddie hangs his head in shame, you tug at the drawstrings of your cloak, fold it up neatly, and set it down on his desk.

“I’m quitting Hellfire.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

316 notes · View notes

h50europe · 2 months ago

Text

BUCK/TOMMY - The Void (What happened after Tommy left Buck's loft)

Tommy’s feet carried him away from Buck’s loft, each step heavier than the last. The door clicked shut behind him, a sound that stretched into eternity. No going back now. He had severed the invisible thread tying him to Evan, and in that final moment, he let “Buck” slip from his lips for the first time. It felt like a seal, a lock snapping into place. As he moved toward his car, a strange emptiness settled over him. Nothing stirred inside. His body shifted to autopilot, mechanical and detached. He slid into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and the engine growled to life. Then he drove, winding through the streets of L.A. with no destination in mind.

Had he seen this coming? No. Not even a flicker of warning. And he refused to dig into why he had bolted. He shoved the questions down, locking them away. His hands gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The traffic became his anchor, something to focus on, something to drown out the noise in his head. “See you around… Buck.” The words looped endlessly in an echo he couldn’t shake. They clawed at him, sharp and jagged. He pictured himself as Van Helsing, driving a stake through Dracula’s heart. A ridiculous image, sure, but it fit. It was the only way he could frame the ache, the violence of what he’d just done.

The drive home blurred into a haze. He couldn’t recall the turns, the stops, the city fading into the background, with every mile he left behind. One moment he was on the road, the next he was in his driveway, staring at the dark silhouette of his house. He climbed out of the car, legs unsteady beneath him. For a beat, he stood there, hesitant, before forcing himself to move. The door creaked as he stepped inside. His keys clattered onto the drawer by the entrance, the only sound in the silence. He crossed to the kitchen, pulled a beer from the fridge, and sank onto the couch. The bottle was cold against his skin as he took a slow swig. Then he rolled it between his palms, staring at nothing. Listless. Adrift. The weight of the night felt like a giant weight on his shoulders, but he wouldn’t let it crack him open. Not yet.

The silence was suffocating. He felt hollowed out, like someone had scooped out his insides and left an empty shell. That moment at Buck’s loft replayed in his mind. The way he’d said “Buck” instead of “Evan” wasn’t just a slip. It was deliberate, a wall he’d thrown up to distance himself. But why? He couldn’t face the answer. Not fully. Fear clawed at the edges of his thoughts, fear of vulnerability, losing control, and letting someone in too deep. He’d spent years building this armor around himself, and Evan had slipped through the cracks without even trying. Regret flickered in his eyes, sharp and fleeting. He didn’t want to hurt Evan. That much he knew. But staying felt like a bigger risk, one he couldn’t calculate. The breakup wasn’t rage or betrayal. It was survival. Tommy’s chest tightened as guilt seeped in. He pictured Evan’s face, the confusion, the hurt he’d left behind. He took another swig of beer, hoping it would numb the gnawing ache. It didn’t. Instead, it amplified the chaos inside him. He was angry too, though he couldn’t pin it on anyone but himself. Angry for running, for not having the words, for letting something good slip through his fingers because he didn’t know how to hold on.

Loneliness settled over him. His house had never felt so empty, the dark corners mirroring the void he carried. He rolled the bottle again, the cold glass helping him just enough to keep the spiral at bay. Part of him wanted to go back, to knock on Buck’s door and take it all back. But the other part, the louder part, told him he’d done the right thing. He wasn’t ready. Maybe he never would be. The thought stung, a quiet admission of defeat. Tommy leaned his head back against the couch, eyes tracing the ceiling. He felt untethered, lost in a storm of his own making.

Across town, Buck stood in the middle of his loft, staring at the door Tommy had walked out of. The silence was deafening, so different from the warmth that had filled the space just hours before. He replayed the breakup in his head, searching for the moment it went wrong. Had he missed something? Said something? Done something? The shift from “Evan” to “Buck” hit him like a punch. It wasn’t just a name. It was a rejection, a step back from the intimacy they’d built. Tommy had never called him Buck before, and now it felt like a line drawn in the sand. Confusion clouded Buck’s mind. He thought they were solid, that they were moving forward. Tommy had been steady, an anchor when Buck’s world tilted. And now? Now he was gone, and Buck couldn’t make sense of it. Hurt bloomed in his chest.

He’d let Tommy in, trusted him with pieces of himself he rarely shared. The abrupt end left him exposed, vulnerable in a way that terrified him. He paced the loft, restless, trying to outrun the ache. What had scared Tommy off? Was it him? The questions gnawed at him, relentless and unanswered.

Anger flickered too, though it was softer, tangled with sadness. He wanted to be mad at Tommy for running, not explaining, and leaving him to pick up the pieces. But mostly, he just felt lost. Buck sank onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. He wondered if Tommy was hurting too, if he was sitting somewhere regretting it. Part of him hoped so. Part of him didn’t. The loft felt too big now, too empty. Buck’s confidence, usually unshakable, wavered. Maybe he wasn’t enough. Perhaps he never would be. The thought settled heavy in his gut, a doubt Tommy’s departure had planted. He stared at the wall, the echo of “See you around… Buck” ringing in his ears, leaving him wondering what came next. He stood, felt too restless to sit.

Tommy’s departure had ripped something open inside him, and as he paced the room, his fears began to surface, jagged and unbidden. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if he could pull the answers out of his head. But there were no answers, only questions, and beneath them, a current of dread he couldn’t shake.

He was afraid of being too much. It was an old fear, one that had followed him since he was a kid, bouncing off the walls to get a scrap of attention. With Tommy, he’d let himself go, poured out his energy, his affection, his chaos. What if that’s what drove Tommy away? Buck knew he could be overwhelming, loud, intense, a whirlwind of emotion that didn’t always know when to stop. He thought Tommy could handle it, maybe even liked it. But now, staring at the empty loft, he wondered if he’d misread everything. What if he’d suffocated Tommy, drowned him in all the things Buck couldn’t hold back?

Then there was the fear of not being enough. A wound from back in the day that never fully healed. Tommy had called him “Buck” at the end, not “Evan,” and that shift felt like a demotion, a stripping away of the closeness they’d built. Had he fallen short somehow? Not steady enough, not strong enough, not worth sticking around for? Buck had spent his life trying to prove he mattered, to his family, his team, his lovers. Tommy leaving felt like proof he’d failed again. What if no one ever stayed? What if he was destined to be the guy people loved for a while, then left behind? Abandonment loomed large, a shadow that stretched back to his childhood. His parents had checked out when Daniel died, and every loss since - Maddie disappearing, Abby walking away, the revolving door of relationships - had carved that fear deeper. Tommy had felt different, solid, like someone who wouldn’t just vanish. But he did. Buck’s chest tightened as he sank onto the couch. What if everyone he loved eventually saw through him? What if he was too broken, too needy, too flawed to keep?

He pulled his knees up, resting his forehead against them. The fear of repeating the past gnawed at him. He’d been here before, alone, reeling, picking up the pieces after someone walked away. He thought he’d grown, thought he’d figured out how to hold onto something real. But Tommy’s exit made him question it all. What if he was stuck in a cycle he couldn’t break? What if every connection he chased ended like this, with him staring at an empty room, wondering where it went wrong?

Buck’s hands clenched into fists, his breath shallow. Beneath it all, there was a quieter fear, one he hated admitting. What if he wasn’t worth loving? Not the loud, heroic Buck who ran into fires, but the Evan who stumbled, who doubted, who needed. Tommy had seen that side of him, and now he was gone. The thought settled heavy in his gut, cold and unrelenting. Buck lifted his head, staring at the wall, the silence screaming back at him. He didn’t know how to quiet the fears, didn’t know how to stop them from pulling him under. All he knew was that Tommy’s absence had cracked something open, and he wasn’t sure how to put the pieces back together again.

Tommy still sat on the couch, the beer bottle now warm in his hands, its contents barely touched. The darkness of his house wrapped around him, a cocoon he both welcomed and despised. His mind churned, restless, circling back to the moment he walked out of Buck’s loft. He hadn’t wanted to leave. Not really. But staying felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath his feet all the while. Fear had driven him out that door, fear he couldn’t name until now, fear that coiled tight in his chest and refused to let go.

He was afraid of losing himself. Evan, with his bright eyes and big, big heart, had a way of pulling Tommy apart, piece by piece. It wasn’t forceful. It was gentle and natural, like water wearing down stone. And that terrified him. Tommy had spent years crafting a version of himself that could stand alone, a man who didn’t need anyone, who could weather any storm solo. Relationships and closeness were what threatened that version. Evan threatened that. What if he let Evan in completely and forgot how to be alone? What if he became someone he didn’t recognize, dependent, fragile, stripped of the independence he’d fought so hard to maintain? Then there was the fear of breaking. Tommy knew Evan’s history, the losses, the chaos, the way he threw himself into everything with reckless abandon. Loving someone like that meant signing up for the fallout.

What if Evan got hurt again? What if Tommy couldn’t protect him, couldn’t fix it? Worse, what if Evan saw the cracks in Tommy, the doubts, the insecurities and decided he wasn’t worth the effort? Rejection loomed large in Tommy’s mind, a shadow he’d carried since he was young. He’d rather walk away first than risk being the one left behind.

Control slipped through his fingers with Evan, and that gnawed at him. Tommy thrived on predictability, on knowing the next move. But Evan was a wildfire, unpredictable and consuming. Every touch, every laugh, every quiet moment chipped away at the walls Tommy had built. What if he let them fall and couldn’t rebuild them? What if he gave everything and it wasn’t enough? The thought of being laid bare, of handing over his heart only to have it handed back, kept him up at night. He’d seen it happen to others. He'd been there and vowed it wouldn’t happen to him again.

He rolled the bottle between his palms, the motion steadying him as his pulse raced. Deeper still, there was a fear he barely acknowledged, one buried under layers of denial. What if he didn’t deserve this? Evan was good, too good, a light Tommy wasn’t sure he could match. Years of guarded living, of keeping people at arm’s length, had left him wondering if he even knew how to love someone the way Evan deserved. What if he tried and failed? What if he hurt Evan worse by staying than by leaving? Tommy set the bottle down, his hands trembling slightly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. The fears tangled together, a knot he couldn’t unravel. They whispered that running was safer, that solitude was his shield. But as the quiet stretched on, a small, traitorous part of him wondered if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. The fear of regret crept in, soft but insistent, and for the first time that night, he didn’t know how to push it away.

#bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 on abc #lou ferrigno jr #oliver stark

24 notes · View notes

meabh-mcinness · 9 days ago

Text

Chronicles of a Second Chance

Chapter 10: The Scout's Gambit

The sky was burning.

Not Earth’s sky— at least you didn’t think it was. There were no stars here. No moon. Only a churning wash of black smoke, lit from beneath by rivers of molten metal and dying Energon. The ground cracked and hissed beneath your feet, every step uncertain. Buildings loomed like the ribcages of dead titans, half-swallowed by flame and shadow.

You ran.

Ash clung to your skin, clumped in your hair. Something was in your arms— someone , broken and small and unfamiliar but oh so loved—but when you looked down, your hands were blurry. Still, the weight remained as you rushed on.

“—Nova!”

The voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Prowl .

You spun, heart lurching. He was nearby—he had to be. That voice wasn’t calm and calculated like usual. It was raw , cracked with pain and panic. You ran toward it, pedes skidding across scorched metal, eyes burning from the smoke.

“Prowl!” you called, but your voice came out wrong. Echoed. Metallic. Not yours.

A shape appeared in the distance. A familiar silhouette. Strong. Tall.

Optimus.

Relief bloomed in your chest—but something was off . He stood too still. His optics, once a comforting blue, burned a deep purple. Not bright. Not pure. Just— wrong . Like light stolen by something ancient and cruel.

He turned his head slightly, unnerving gaze fixed on you.

“There you are,” he said, heavy pedes following after your form as you back away slowly.

The words didn’t sound like his voice. They echoed from beneath it, a deeper resonance like something inside him was speaking through him.

Then the ground split. Fire and steel swallowed you whole.

You bolted upright with a sharp gasp, heart hammering against your ribs like it wanted out .

The room around you spun, ceiling lights blurring into a haze. Your chest heaved. The dream clung like oil under your skin—Optimus’s voice, Prowl’s scream , the heat of a world dying.

A sharp ringing of the phone jolted you the rest of the way back into reality. You stared at your cell for a moment before it broke out ringing again, Sam’s name flashing across the screen.

You picked it up warily, the last remnants of the nightmare clinging to your mind like wisps of smoke, “Hell-”

“ HEY! Hey—what the hell! Get back here!” Sam’s voice, shrill with panic, rang up from the speaker. There was a scuffle of footsteps, then the roar of an engine—Bumblebee’s.

You lurched to your feet, stumbling to your closest to grab a pair of shoes, trying to understand Sam as he continued yelling something incoherent about grand theft auto.

Right, you had forgotten in your sleepy haze that Bumblebee was leaving tonight to send out the signal and that he would get followed by Sam thinking someone was stealing his car.

You blinked, dazed, still trying to shake off the dream, but that cold weight lingered. A whisper in the back of your skull. You turned towards the window, heart still thudding too loud. Prowl was here, parked underneath a tree nearby and clearly not in any pain or panic.

And Optimus was still... Optimus. Right?

You shook your head. Of course Optimus would still be himself. It was likely a nightmare dredged up by your mind due to all the stress and anxiety you were under.

Of which was not being helped by Sam’s continuous yelling in your ear.

The urge to just hang up the phone and go back to sleep was strong, but then figments of that dream would flash through your mind, Optimus’s cold voice and Prowl’s scream ringing through your ears. You shook your head, grabbed your bag and ran out the front door towards Prowl.

By the time you were opening the door, Prowl had already awoken and pulled forward, swerving in a half loop and throwing his passenger door open so that you could dive in without a second thought before rushing off down the street.

“What’s wrong?” Prowl’s calm voice cut through your streaming thoughts, providing an anchor for your mind to latch onto that wasn’t burning ash or screaming.

You waved your phone, Sam’s voice still screeching about his car being stolen and that he was on pursuit. Vaguely you wondered if he intended to call you or if he thought he was talking to the police. Either way, you just wiggled the phone by Prowl’s radio, “Bumblebee is apparently going for a joyride,” was the dry words that left your tired brain.

A deep sigh left Prowl before a screeching sound of tires burning rubber reached your ears and he sped off down the roads. The headache that was forming in your mind was very thankful that he kept his lights and sirens off as he raced off towards what you presumed was were Bumblebee was going to summon the Autobots.

The cool hum of Prowl’s systems and the now familiar sterile scent of his interior helped ease some of the lingering dread, though the image of Optimus’s glowing purple optics still floated behind your eyelids every time you blinked.

You leaned back against the seat, one hand clutched tight around the seatbelt strap, the other still holding your buzzing phone. Sam had gone quiet on the other end—finally—but whether that was because he’d hung up or because he was out of breath from chasing Bumblebee, you couldn’t tell.

Prowl’s voice broke the silence again, level but tinged with concern. “Are you alright?”

You hesitated. The dream clung too close for comfort, like a warning whispered from some place far beyond your comprehension. But that was stupid and likely just your brain still reeling from the anxiety produced by the fear of what felt real at the time.

“I—” You swallowed. “Yeah. Just a nightmare.” There was a pause. You weren’t sure if he believed you. Hell, you didn’t believe you. “I’m fine,” you repeated, softer.

Prowl didn’t press. He never really did since the first time you met.

Instead, he adjusted his heading. “I’ll intercept Bumblebee’s route before the satellite transmission begins. If Sam’s still following, doubtful considering the scout’s top speeds, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself injured.”

You nodded numbly, staring out the windshield as dark suburban streets passed by in a blur. A flash of yellow ahead caught your eye—Bumblebee, weaving effortlessly through the empty backstreets. A tiny figure on a bike flailed in the distance behind him.

“Oh my gods,” you muttered. “He’s actually keeping up.”

Prowl huffed, low and amused. “Barely. He’s going to trip on a pothole at this rate.”

“Should I film it?”

“Only if you plan to share it later.”

You let out a laugh—weak, but real—and leaned forward, watching Bumblebee’s taillights vanish up ahead. That gnawing feeling hadn’t left, but at least now it had company. Something solid. Something real.

For now, that would have to be enough.

“Wait,” you suddenly realized, “Bumblebee could have easily snuck out and returned without waking up Sam, and even now he could easily lose him, do the mission, and then reappear as if the carjacker decided he wasn’t worth it and left…Prowl,” your eyes narrowed at the radio, “what is going on?”

You had never really thought about it before. The scene in the movie was something you had thought had been placed as a funny haha moment and a way for sector seven to be introduced naturally since someone ranting about their car turning into a giant robot would definitely tick off a few sensors.

Now that you were living in the moment however?

You wanted to know what the hell Bumblebee thought he was doing.

He may have been disguised as an old camaro, but it was just that, a disguise. He could easily have snuck off without ever alerting anyone, instead, as you rethought over the scene, he had almost purposefully seemed to have waited for Sam to wake up and follow him. To chase after him and see him transform, to see him send the signal to team prime.

Was it a game in the scout’s eyes? Something to do in his boredom of waiting? Or did he have a different reason for dragging Sam halfway across town and inadvertently getting him arrested?

Prowl was silent for a moment, “I don’t know,” he quietly admitted. “Bumblebee, despite being out best scout, has long been someone who does his own thing, rarely listening to anyone who isn’t Optimus Prime and even then he’ll still swing plans his own way. A mission like this should have taken a groon, two at most, and he should have been able to do it completely undetected. The fact that he hasn’t…I’m not sure what’s going on in that processor of his.”

Prowl’s admission settled like lead in your stomach. Not because he didn’t know—because Prowl didn’t know. The strategist. The planner. The one who always had a contingency buried under ten layers of logic and numbers. If he was uncertain…

The dream pulsed again in the back of your mind. You rubbed your eyes hard, trying to push the image of purple optics from your vision. “Something’s not right,” you murmured.

Prowl was quiet. You could hear the gears shift under the hood as he subtly adjusted his speed, sensors likely stretched to max range. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Ahead, Bumblebee slowed—just barely. Enough for Prowl to catch up without needing to go full pursuit. You would think a clearing would open up ahead, part of the rural stretch outside town—quiet, dark, and far from prying human eyes.

Instead Bumblebee slammed into a closed gate leading to what you thought was an old junkyard, or perhaps a train station fallen into disrepair considering the whistling you heard in the distance as Prowl swerved inbetween the coming train and Sam, forcing the teenager to come to a quick stop, flipping over his bike in the process, or risk bowling into the car in front of him.

You quickly scrambled out of the car to check on Sam, ignoring his angry screeches about how he could have been hit with that crazy driving as your eyes moved over his form, making sure not a single part of him was truly harmed. Once you were satisfied that he was okay, you quickly balled up his shirt in your fists and slammed him into Prowl’s form, mentally reminding yourself to apologize later, as you snarled in Sam’s face.

“ Samuel James Witwicky , what the actual hell were you thinking! Do you have any sense of intelligence or self preservation in that brain of yours!” His eyes were wide as he stared down at you startled, his mouth opening to respond before you cut him off, “Don’t bother, because clearly the answer is no! Someone steals your car and your first response is to chase after them?! What if they had decided to run you over? What if someone else had run you over during the chase? What if they had a weapon and you were seriously hurt? You could have been killed!”

Sam sputtered, still flattened against Prowl’s door, his limbs stiff with shock and a little bit of terror. “I—I thought—Bumblebee’s my car ! I paid for him! I didn’t think—!”

“No, Sam, that’s the problem!” you snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest for emphasis. “You didn’t think! This isn’t a damn movie or video game! You don’t get extra lives if you die doing something stupid! ”

Sam opened his mouth again, probably to argue something petty, but you stepped back and pointed a finger toward the crumpled bike,then the train that was still passing before finally landing on his scraped hands and torn jeans. “Look at you! You almost broke your neck! What were you gonna do if Prowl and I hadn’t been here to stop you, huh? Throw your bike at the train? You are so lucky we came after you.”

The last sentence came out before you could stop it, and Sam blinked at you, confused. “Wait… who’s Prowl?”

You cursed silently. Behind Sam, Prowl muttered something in Cybertronian that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience.

You really couldn’t blame him if it was.

Thinking fast you took a step out of his book, “Prowl is what Prospero named his car. I stole it to chase after your dumbass because you decided that instead of calling the police to let them know you were carjacked and then patiently waiting for them, you decided to wake me up screeching like a banshee as you chased after it yourself!”

“Uhm well,” Sam stuttered, “I did call the police first, but they weren’t very helpful since it was going to take a bit for them to even get to the house much less go searching and wait you stole your cousin’s car?”

“You did?” ‘Well scrap,’ was your first thought. Followed quickly by you needing to get the hell out of there before you got arrested alongside Sam.

Especially since Prowl was technically a police cruiser that was most definitely not registered to you.

You were not going to jail over the perceived grand theft auto of a police car. You didn’t know how many years that was worth and you weren’t interested in finding out. “Okay,” you started, “first we’re going to get into the car and leave. Then we’re going to go to your house where we can calmly tell the police that we only chased it a little bit in your panic before heading back home to let the professionals deal with it, because Sam, we’re trespassing and -”

That’s when the light started.

A thin beam, pale and unnatural, shot upward from Bumblebee’s chassis from where he was balancing on a tower and disappeared into the sky, flickering against the low-hanging clouds. You leaned forward, breath caught in your throat.

‘He’s sending the signal, you thought, cringing as Sam whirled to see where the sudden light was coming from. A whimper tore from his throat as he got a good glimpse at Bumblebee in full robot form, his attention only on the sky as he sent what you assumed were coordinates to your general location for the prime team to follow.

“Is that-”

“Sam,” you interrupted, “get in the damn car.”

“Getting in the car,” he immediately scrambled into the passenger seat, and you were happy he didn’t question how you came tumbling out of that very seat if you were the one driving initially. Rushing to the other side you couldn’t help but murmur before opening the door, “Prowl, let Bumblebee know his ass is going to be scrap once I’m through with him.”

The door opening before you could fully grasp the handle was the only response you received, not that you were really expecting a verbal one with Sam here. The moment the doors were closed, Prowl peeled away from the junkyard entrance like a ghost, headlights dimmed, sirens silent, the smooth hum of his engine barely noticeable over your thudding pulse as you pretended to drive him.

Sam made a strange keening noise, burying his face in his hands. “… What the hell? What the actual hell Nova! That was my car! Only it wasn't a car anymore!”

“ Sam, ” you hissed, trying not to shake from the adrenaline crash, “Can we have a crash out when I’m not driving!?”

“But—what the hell was that back there?! It transformed! It climbed ! I saw it!”

“Sam,” you tried once more, “now is not the time for this conversation. We’re going to get you home, talk to the police and your parents about how your car was stolen and you acted in a moment of panic in chasing but lost track of it, and then you’re going to pretend that that sight was a hallucination caused by stress, energy drinks, and possible early-onset heatstroke and mention none of it to anyone. Capiche?”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue. He opened his mouth, saw your face, glanced at the car you had supposedly jacked from your cousin, and wisely shut it again.

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Stress and heatstroke. Got it.”

You were so turning Bumblebee into scrap for inducing this headache.

—--------------

Prowl waited until you’d swung into your seat and slammed the door before pulling out in a smooth, sharp turn, tires whispering against the cracked concrete away from Sam’s house and the migraine-inducing problem Bumblebee had caused. The moment you were safely moving, he muttered, voice low and strained, “That was nearly a disaster.”

“You’re telling me,” you groaned, pressing your palms against your face. “Bumblebee better have had a damn good reason for pulling that stunt.”

“I suspect he did,” Prowl said after a beat. “But if he doesn’t? He may find himself reassigned to cleaning duty for the next ten vorns.”

You snorted despite yourself. “You’d actually do that?”

“You underestimate how petty I can be.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then—

“I heard that!” A random voice crackled over Prowl’s radio, distorted slightly but unmistakably Bumblebee.

You sat bolt upright. “ You’re here?! ”

“No,” the scout replied, clearly smug as ever. “Hijacked… prowling… signal. Chill.”

“Chill. Chill!? You could have gotten Sam killed, ” you snapped. “Or arrested. Or both! What in the name of everything holy and unholy were you thinking ?!”

An ad for glasses started playing cheerily, and you stared at the radio in disbelief.

“You put, my best friend’s life at risk, for some bloody glasses you could have just asked me to grab for you!?”

There was a pause before a clipped static noise played in what you assumed was his version of an ‘ah’ noise. You slapped your forehead, and judging by the deep sigh from Prowl he would be gripping the bridge of his nose if he weren’t in alternate form.

“You reckless, oversized RC car!” You suddenly snarled, Prowl swerving slightly in surprise at your sudden outburst. “When I get my hands on you, you dafted autobot there won’t even be enough left to make a bloody hard drive! You’ve got all that advanced tech in your head, and that was your plan? I’ve seen toaster ovens with better thinking skills than you! If I wanted dramatics, I’d go to Broadway. Not watch you commit vehicular homicide with style.”

Prowl’s vents hissed a suppressed laugh.

“You couldn’t just sneak out like a normal alien robot on a secret mission, could you? Nooo, you had to play Fast and the Furious with a hormonal teenager glued to your rear bumper!”

Bumblebee chirped indignantly through his radio, but you cut him off with your words, a savage glare and jab of your finger accompanying them even if he couldn’t see.

“Don’t you dare beep at me. You knew Sam would follow you. You let him see on purpose. And for what, huh? Dramatic flair? Boredom? Were you not built to include common sense?”

The radio crackled again, something vaguely apologetic—but you weren’t done.

“You’re supposed to be the scout ! The stealth guy! But somehow, you managed to do the exact opposite of stealth! And in case you forgot, we’re trying to avoid drawing attention from a group of trigger-happy decepticons and government agents who both think waterboarding is foreplay!”

“I trusted you to take care of him,” your voice suddenly broke as you did your best to hold back tears of rage at the very idea of Sam being hurt, “And you used that trust to practically throw him into danger on the first night-”

Large hands pulled you into a hug, cutting off your rant, and you squirmed to throw them off, but they held tight. Prowl’s holoform had formed and was holding you close, one of his hands wrapping into your hair and softly running through it. “I think he gets it,” he muttered into your ear, “calm yourself, little one, before you say something you truly regret. Bumblebee messed up, now we figure out what to do next.”

It was only now you heard soft warbling coming through the radio and you let out a defeated sigh, “You screw around like this again,” you warned, voice low and dangerous, “and I swear to Primus, I’ll figure out how to replace your radio with nothing but Whitney Houston.”

Silence followed your declaration before panicked beeping suddenly came through. You figured he must have googled her.

You sat back in your seat, head and heart pounding, adrenaline slowly burning out as you let the rage go.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “Sam’s not going to follow the whole ‘pretend nothing happened’ thing for long. In fact, I’m betting it’ll only last for the night before he decides to ambush me about it. So, here are a few options on what we can do-”

And with any luck, things will actually go to plan for once.

Somehow, you doubted it, but a person could dream.

Prev Next

~~Taglist~~

@imagineshazamlokimight

Notes:

I always did wonder why exactly Bumblebee had Sam follow him when he could have very easily snuck out and been back again with no one the wiser. Personally I think Bumblebee was lonely and wanted someone to talk to, I mean he'd been on Earth for who knows how long by himself (we're ignoring the last movie that says he fought in freaking Germany) and now he's been given a mission to protect this kid and wouldn't it be so much easier if he could actually talk to him and tell him what's going on? Totally no other reason. However since Prowl exists in this story I kinda need another reason for him to act out, which in this case it was a bit of 'hey lets bring the kid who owns the item we need in on our existence so he can give us said item' nevermind that MC could literally walk in and grab them at any point lol.

#transformer x human #transformer x reader #transformers #megatron x human #megatron x human reader #megatron x reader #optimus prime x human #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #transformers bayverse #tf optimus prime #bayverse optimus prime x reader #megatron x optimus prime #optimus #optimus prime #transformers optimus #megop #megaop #megatron

17 notes · View notes

kaywavy · 1 year ago

Text

transforming soffits reorganizing keys formalizing immersion joints justifying kick extractors advising aggregates managing elbows recasting connectors achieving aluminum trowels officiating disks exhibiting absolute spigots progressing coil hydrants jerry-building reflectors informing casters inventing rubber hoists performing wrenches judging chalk adapters upgrading ignition paths

regrowing flashing recommending ratchets approving barriers sweeping impact fillers sewing mirrors detailing collectors enforcing measures distributing systems presenting plugs interwinding registers piloting ash diffusers gathering cranks supplying eave pockets undertaking scroll stops accelerating straps designing fittings protecting diamond boilers logging downspouts correlating shingles uniting mallets qualifying electrostatic lifts sharing clamps obtaining circular fluids ranking foundation gauges sensing miter brackets originating space networks translating drills regulating guards selecting gable padding utilizing pellet dowels reconciling artifacts altering pulleys shedding space filters determining vents representing mortar remaking flash rakers supporting funnels typecasting rotary chocks expressing junctures resetting auxiliary vises professing strip treads inlaying matter trowels questioning drivers forming edge fittings sketching blanks overshooting spark breakers rewriting controls playing tunnels inventorying buttons enduring joint handles effecting ratchet bibbs unwinding couplings forsaking vapor conduits defining sockets calculating heaters raising grids administering tiles measuring resources installing ignition remotes extracting corners manufacturing ventilators delegating consoles treating mounting stones enacting jig deflectors intensifying alleys improvising cargo pinpointing bobs prescribing arc masonry structuring metal chucks symbolizing lathes activating plumb kits adapting coatings fixing channels expediting cordage planning compressors enlisting hangers restructuring keyhole augers shearing ridge hardware collecting reciprocating bolts maintaining corrugated dimmers whetting hole collars conducting mandrels comparing assets compiling sealants completing paths composing equivocation wheels computing dampers conceiving electrostatic treatment ordering cotter grates organizing ties orienting ladders exceeding materials targeting thermocouples demonstrating emery stock expanding latch bases training wardrobe adhesives overcomming[sic] fasteners streamlining storm anchors navigating springs perfecting turnbuckles verifying gate pegs arbitrating arithmetic lifts negotiating outlets normalizing strips building surface foggers checking key torches knitting grinders mowing planers offsetting stencils acquiring bulbs adopting rivets observing avenues ascertaining coaxial grommets slinging wing winches instituting circuit generators instructing wicks integrating pry shutters interpreting immersion lumber clarifying coils classifying wood bits closing cogs cataloging matter strips charting holders conceptualizing push terminals stimulating supports overthrowing shaft spacers quick-freezing connectors unbinding ground hooks analyzing eyes anticipating gateways controlling proposition rollers converting power angles coordinating staples correcting benders counseling joist gaskets recording gutter pipes recruiting drains rehabilitating rafter tubes reinforcing washers reporting guard valves naming freize sprues nominating rings noting straps doubling nailers drafting circuit hoses dramatizing flanges splitting framing compounds refitting stems interweaving patch unions placing sillcocks sorting slot threads securing mode cutters diverting catharsis plates procuring load thresholds transferring syllogism twine directing switch nuts referring time spools diagnosing knobs discovering locks dispensing hinges displaying hasps resending arc binders retreading grooves retrofitting aesthetics portals seeking stocks shrinking wormholes assembling blocks assessing divers attaining lug boxes auditing nescience passages conserving strikes constructing braces contracting saw catches serving installation irons recognizing fluxes consolidating fuse calipers mapping shims reviewing chop groovers scheduling lag drives simplifying hoists engineering levels enhancing tack hollows establishing finishing blocks

21 notes · View notes

thecharleston · 1 year ago

Text

[After sleeping for a solid 17 hours a couple of weeks ago, Charlie bounced back, more focused than ever before. She'd forgotten just how much more effective sleep was at energizing her than Pixi Stix. And so, ever since, she'd been working diligently on her telescope-- with a healthy amount of breaks this time. She'd basically been living in this little quiet room of the library. Hey, it's cozy, warm, and a good work environment. And nobody's kicked her out yet, so she's really made this space her own-- pasting huge diagrams and such on the wall for easy reference, finding spots to stash her more sensitive notes... things like that.]

[And today? Her work might finally yield results. Her telescope didn't need much-- it didn't need to rise above the Earth's atmosphere to get a full view of things, for instance. All it needed to work was to scan something made of biological matter. Normally, Charlie would have a potato ready. After all, she used it as a sort of "anchor" on her adventures. Any universe that has a plant with the exact genetic code as her potato wouldn't be a universe she would immediately die in by way of the environment. It would always be at least a little familiar. Unfortunately, her potato had long since decayed and been lost. She needed something else. Some bit of genetic material that would tie the telescope to her universe and her universe alone, something from hole that remained untainted by her travels.]

[She thought about it, then realized her hair hadn't changed one bit-- that might sound obvious, but most of her physical features shift and morph to match the universe she's in-- and that includes making her colors a little less cartoonishly vibrant in many universes. Except, her hair never seemed to change, at least not in color. One could mistake her for having dyed hair with how bright it is. ...It'll have to do. Of course, it's easier to extract DNA from the follicles of her hair than the hair itself, so... one by one, she carefully tugs 5 strands out, then gently places them into the scanning chamber of her machine. She shuts the chamber's door, making sure it's sealed.]

[Now all that is left to be done is to test the darn thing. Charlie glances at the comically large and somewhat evil-looking lever she built as an on-switch (old habits die hard, okay?! Risky science deserves a little theatrics, as far as Charlie is concerned). She takes a deep breath and walks over to it. Then, grunting with effort, she yanks the lever until it's switched. The telescope bursts to mechanical life; even a few stray bolts of electricity rapidly coiling their way up the wire from the lever to the machine. Don't worry, that's usually a good sign where she's from. She anxiously watches the telescope orient itself, listening to its whirring. Then... it dings. It's located her home universe, and thus, she can use the image of it to calculate its size. Charlie gasps, then cackles, punching the air triumphantly. She can't help it this time.]

GYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! EUREKA!

[...Silence. Charlie's smile fades as she realizes just how homesick she is: if this were home, the Narrator would have congratulated her, or at least said something witty, depending on his mood. And with a maniacal laugh THAT passionate? Lightning would be cracking outside in time with her. But she's learned that most universes don't have nigh-omniscient narrators that talk to you, nor will lightning inexplicably strike when your evil laughter escapes you. And speaking of... she's also really learning just how tame her world's definition of evil is. She misses it when things were fun and light.]

[Charlie looks toward telescope again, its screen modeling her universe in full. Even if she goes back, she'll never be able to live there with the same naivety as she used to. ...But at least, she can try to protect the others from having to learn what true evil looks like the hard way.]

#charlie's machinations #hatchetblr #hatchetfield rp #npmd rp #unreality

19 notes · View notes

excel-office-furniture · 8 days ago

Text

Hyderabad Workspaces Re‑imagined: From Executive Chairs to Slotted‑Angle Racks

Hyderabad’s economy—propelled by HITEC City’s IT corridors, Genome Valley’s biopharma labs, and a thriving e‑commerce backend around Shamshabad—demands work environments that balance comfort, productivity, and space efficiency. Two seemingly unrelated furniture heroes rise to that challenge: executive chairs that pamper decision‑makers through ten‑hour marathons, and Slotted Angle Racks In Hyderabad that tame inventory chaos in warehouses, retail storerooms, and office archives. Let’s explore how each product solves real Hyderabad problems while fitting local budgets, climates, and design tastes.

1. Executive Chairs: Comfort That Commands

a. Ergonomics First

The average tech leader or BPO manager in Gachibowli spends nearly 180 minutes in continuous sitting. Chairs engineered with synchronous‑tilt mechanisms, four‑way adjustable lumbar support, and breathable mesh backrests reduce spinal compression and muscle fatigue. Hyderabad’s 40 °C summers make mesh preferable to leatherette; it wicks away heat during load‑shedding moments when the AC pauses.

b. Material & Build

Quality brands source glass‑fiber‑reinforced nylon frames and class‑4 gas lifts, tested to BIFMA X5.1 standards for 100,000 cycles—important insurance when heavy monsoon humidity can swell cheaper plywood seat pans. For corner suites in Jubilee Hills, top‑grain leather on a polished aluminium base signals authority, while sustainably tanned vegan leather is gaining traction among ESG‑focused startups in T‑Hub.

c. Smart Features

Post‑pandemic hybrid work nudges chair makers to embed IoT seat‑presence sensors that log utilization data. Facilities teams use that data to right‑size real estate in Raheja Mindspace towers. Meanwhile, magnetic headrest speakers enable private Teams calls without clunky headsets—a boon for executives juggling meetings from home‑office annexes in Manikonda.

d. Buying and Servicing in Hyderabad

Clusters of importers in Begumpet supply global brands like Herman Miller and Steelcase, but local OEMs in Balanagar offer custom upholstery and faster spare‑part availability at 30 % lower cost. Expect on‑site demo units, five‑year structural warranties, and AMC packages that include caster cleaning—a must with Hyderabad’s red‑soil dust.

2. Slotted‑Angle Racks: Storage That Scales

a. Modular Muscle

Whether you’re kitting out a pharma warehouse in Bachupally or adding a records room to a Secretariat department, slotted‑angle racks deliver unmatched flexibility. Uprights punched at 50 mm centres let you raise or lower shelves without welding. Start with a single bay today; bolt‑on more tomorrow as SKUs multiply.

b. Load Capacity & Durability

Local fabricators use ISI‑certified cold‑rolled steel—40 × 40 mm angles for light loads (80–120 kg per shelf) and 60 × 40 mm for heavy tools (up to 500 kg). Powder coatings cured at 180 °C form a corrosion shield essential in Hyderabad’s 60‑plus‑percent monsoon humidity. Ask vendors in Jeedimetla for salt‑spray test reports and a three‑year anti‑rust warranty.

c. Space Economics

Real‑estate near the Outer Ring Road commands premium rents; maximizing vertical cubic capacity can shave 20 % off warehouse expansions. Racks up to 3 metres high pair well with rolling ladders, while mezzanine‑supported racks create two‑level storage without new construction permits—perfect for fast‑growing e‑commerce sellers in Uppal.

d. Safety & Compliance

Ensure racks come with load signage, diagonal bracings, and anchor bolts drilled into RCC floors. Reputed vendors provide IS 800 structural calculations and even seismic bracing kits—prudent given Telangana’s mild earthquake zone classification.

3. Synergy: A Holistic Approach to Workspace ROI

An Executive Chairs in Hyderabad that prevents back pain directly boosts cognitive performance, cutting costly sick days. Slotted‑angle racks, by organizing parts and documents, slash pick‑and‑pack times, increasing throughput. Together, they illustrate a larger principle: invest in the human and spatial ergonomics simultaneously to amplify overall return on workspace spend.

For instance, a biotech lab in Genome Valley recently combined height‑adjustable executive chairs for research leads with chemical‑resistant slotted racks for reagent storage. The result? A 17 % uptick in lab task efficiency and a happier, healthier staff—all without expanding square footage.

#heavy duty racks in hyderabad #office chairs in hyderabad #excelofficesystem

0 notes

experientialsystems · 22 days ago

Text

Ensuring Safety and Adventure: Ropes Course Inspection, Construction, and Certification

Challenge courses and ziplines have become increasingly popular in outdoor adventure parks, camps, and training facilities. These structures offer exhilarating experiences and promote team building, leadership, and personal growth. However, to ensure these benefits are delivered safely and effectively, a meticulous approach to ropes course inspection, challenge course construction, zipline construction, and challenge course certification is essential.

Ropes Course Inspection: Maintaining Safety Standards

Routine ropes course inspection is a critical component in the operation of any challenge or zipline course. Inspections should be conducted by qualified professionals at regular intervals to identify signs of wear, weather damage, structural issues, or compromised safety features. Daily visual checks, monthly maintenance assessments, and annual comprehensive inspections help ensure that each element of the course remains safe and functional. Inspectors look for fraying ropes, corrosion, loose bolts, and weakened support structures, among other issues. Adhering to ACCT (Association for Challenge Course Technology) or PRCA (Professional Ropes Course Association) standards helps maintain high safety benchmarks and liability protection for operators.

Challenge Course Construction: Built for Durability and Fun

Proper challenge course construction starts with an in-depth site evaluation and risk assessment. This includes analyzing terrain, soil stability, environmental impact, and accessibility. Once a suitable design is finalized, certified builders use high-quality materials such as treated timber, galvanized steel, and weather-resistant ropes to create durable structures that can withstand the rigors of outdoor conditions and high traffic.

Professional builders ensure that the layout encourages both safety and fun, incorporating various challenge levels to accommodate participants of different ages and skill levels. Courses may include low elements for team-building exercises and high elements for more thrilling experiences. Whether built for recreational or corporate use, a well-constructed challenge course can provide years of safe enjoyment.

Zipline Construction: Precision and Engineering

Zipline construction requires a blend of engineering precision and safety compliance. Building a zipline involves selecting the right location, calculating the correct slope and cable tension, and installing solid anchor systems. Factors such as rider weight, speed, braking mechanisms, and emergency access must be considered. Professionals use high-tensile cables, certified harness systems, and redundant safety features to ensure every ride is secure and enjoyable.

Environmental considerations are also taken into account to minimize ecological impact during construction. Additionally, signage and operator training are provided to ensure users understand the safety protocols before each ride.

Challenge Course Certification: Complying with Industry Standards

After construction, obtaining challenge course certification is crucial. Certification verifies that the course meets industry standards for safety, design, and operational procedures. Organizations such as ACCT and PRCA offer certification programs that include rigorous testing, documentation, and site visits. Certified courses are more appealing to insurance providers and customers alike, as they represent a commitment to safety and professionalism.

Moreover, staff certification ensures that those running the course have received adequate training in emergency response, equipment handling, and participant management.

Conclusion

From initial planning to daily operation, ropes courses, ziplines, and challenge elements must be designed, inspected, and certified with the utmost care. Investing in professional inspection, construction, and certification ensures not only the safety of participants but also the long-term success and reputation of the facility. By prioritizing quality and safety, operators can provide unforgettable, life-changing experiences that participants will remember for years to come.

0 notes

srpl-group · 1 month ago

Text

Penetrative vs. Non-Penetrative Solar Mounting: Which One is Right for You?

Installing solar panels isn’t just about placing them on a roof or the ground—it’s about making sure they stay secure, efficient, and long-lasting. One of the most important choices in a solar project is deciding how to mount the panels. Should you go with a penetrative system that anchors deep into the surface, or a non-penetrative system that sits securely without drilling?

Both have their pros and cons, and the right choice depends on factors like roof type, weather conditions, budget, and long-term goals. Let’s break it down.

1. What is a Penetrative Solar Structure?

A penetrative solar mounting system is physically bolted, drilled, or anchored into the roof or ground. This method ensures maximum stability and is commonly used for ground-mounted solar farms, sloped metal roofs, and concrete rooftops.

Why Choose a Penetrative Mounting System?

Rock-Solid Stability – Since the system is securely fixed, it can handle strong winds, heavy rain, or snow loads without shifting.

Perfect for Harsh Climates – If you live in a region with extreme weather conditions, this method keeps your panels safe.

Long-Lasting Solution – Once installed, penetrative mounts require very little maintenance and can last for decades.

Potential Drawbacks

Roof Damage Risk – Since it requires drilling, it might create small openings that need proper sealing to prevent leaks.

Takes More Time to Install – The process involves extra labor, which can increase installation costs.

Not Ideal for All Roofs – Older buildings or lightweight metal sheets may not support drilling.

2. What is a Non-Penetrative Solar Structure?

A non-penetrative solar mounting system avoids drilling altogether. Instead, it relies on ballasts, clamps, or adhesive-based mounting to hold the panels in place. These are popular on flat rooftops and certain metal roofing types.

Why Choose a Non-Penetrative Mounting System?

No Damage to the Roof – Perfect for leased buildings or rooftops that can’t support drilling.

Quick & Easy Installation – No need for complex anchoring, reducing labor costs.

Flexible & Reusable – If you ever need to relocate the panels, this system allows for easy removal and repositioning.

Potential Drawbacks

Not for Sloped Roofs – These systems work best on flat surfaces.

Extra Weight Considerations – Since ballasts are used, additional load calculations are necessary to avoid overburdening the roof.

Less Secure in High Winds – Without deep anchoring, extra reinforcements may be required in storm-prone areas.

3. Efficiency: Which One Performs Better?

Energy Efficiency

Both systems support solar panels equally well in energy production. However, in extreme weather conditions, a penetrative system ensures the panels stay secure, preventing efficiency loss due to displacement.

Installation & Maintenance

Non-Penetrative: Super quick to install, making it a great choice for commercial buildings.

Penetrative: Takes longer but requires almost no maintenance once set up.

Cost Comparison

Penetrative Mounts: Higher upfront cost due to installation work but lower long-term maintenance expenses.

Non-Penetrative Mounts: Cheaper installation but may require reinforcements over time.

4. Which One Should You Choose?

Choose Penetrative Structures if:

✅ Your project is in an area with high winds, heavy snowfall, or extreme weather.

✅ You want a long-term, highly stable solution.

✅ You’re installing ground-mounted solar panels or using strong roof materials that can handle drilling.

Choose Non-Penetrative Structures if:

✅ You have a flat commercial rooftop or a leased property where drilling isn’t an option.

✅ You need a quick, cost-effective, and flexible solution.

✅ Your roof cannot handle additional holes or modifications.

At the end of the day, both options have their advantages. It all depends on your project’s location, budget, and long-term vision.

🌞 At SRPL Group, we offer both penetrative and non-penetrative solar mounting solutions, ensuring the perfect fit for your solar installation. Contact us today and let’s power your future with the right solar structure!

#solarstructure #pentrative #nonpenetrative

0 notes

big-bolt-nut · 2 months ago

Text

BS 3692 Bolt Weight Chart in Kg, mm, PDF | BigBoltNut

Source Url:

BS 3692 bolt weight chart in kg, mm, and PDF format. View accurate weight details for anchor bolts, foundation bolts like M10, M12, M16, M36 etc.

Understanding bolt and nut weights is essential for precise construction, fabrication, and heavy machinery applications. Our BS 3692 bolt weight chart provides detailed weight measurements for bolts and nuts ranging from M10 to M72 in kg, ensuring accurate calculations for your projects.

Whether you need foundation bolts, anchor bolts, or standard fasteners, our chart helps you plan efficiently. Engineers and procurement specialists rely on bolt and nut weight charts to determine weights based on size and material composition.

For structural applications, selecting the right bolts, nuts, and foundation fasteners is crucial. Our comprehensive BS 3692 bolt weight chart, foundation bolt weight chart, and anchor bolt weight chart provide the necessary details for precise weight estimations. Use our bolt and nut weight calculator to enhance efficiency in your projects.

Foundation bolts play a key role in securing structural elements to concrete foundations. Available in various forms like L-bolts, J-bolts, U-bolts, and straight anchor bolts, their weight depends on diameter, length, and material composition.

Optimize your project planning with our accurate bolt and nut weight charts for seamless construction and manufacturing processes.

#Bs3692 bolt weight chart #Bolt weight chart #Foundation bolt weight chart

0 notes

mahmut-guzel-studyo · 9 years ago

Text

Icons

YAYINDA! https://mguzel.com.tr/icons/

Icons

Porto comes with Font Awesome 5 Icons, Simple Line Icons and Porto Icons that can be used in your website.

Font Awesome 5 Icons

Font Awesome is web’s most popular icon set and toolkit with and that is why we have included Font Awesome 5.7.0 with Porto. There are 1500 icons FREE for you to use when building your site. Font Awesome icons are 100% full vector based icons and social logos giving you perfectly sharp lines.

Font Awesome

Line Icons

Porto Icons

Solid Icons

address-book

address-card

adjust

air-freshener

align-center

align-justify

align-left

align-right

allergies

ambulance

american-sign-language-interpreting

anchor

angle-double-down

angle-double-left

angle-double-right

angle-double-up

angle-down

angle-left

angle-right

angle-up

angry

ankh

apple-alt