#first off an alarm went off for the too good to go app; so i snoozed it while my coworker went to put bags together
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Do you ever get home from work and think “I wonder if I could’ve communicated worse. Probably not”
#first off an alarm went off for the too good to go app; so i snoozed it while my coworker went to put bags together#then when it went off all i said in the most defeated voice was ‘it’s happening again’#picture this. a bell is gently ringing and a barista says in the driest yorkshire accent possible ‘it’s happening again’#the customer was just like ‘uhhhhhhh are you good’#the second thing was when the extra coffee machine’s bucket filled up (just don’t ask) so my coworker took the bucket to empty it#but then someone ordered two lattes and i remembered at the last second that i could only use one machine#so i basically pressed the latte button; put a cup under; then cancelled it while yelling ‘NOOO NOOO NOOOO NOOO NOOOOOOO’#and just. ran away from the coffee machine#the customer was once again like ‘is something wrong here’ and i was like ‘josh has taken the bucket’ which also doesn’t elucidate matters#much and tbh sounds a bit like a metaphor for something else#thankfully she understood and didn’t cancel the order. i feel like i would’ve cancelled the order#a barista running away from a machine while repeatedly yelling ‘NOOOOOO’ doesn’t really inspire confidence in me#special mention goes to when i just clean forgot the name of the plant based milk jug and said ‘i’m going to wash the this’#also when someone said ‘can i have this heated up’ and i just said ‘we can’t’ with no explanation#gerry was already explaining about how we turn the oven off at 3:45 but i was prepared to just fully be like ‘no’#but yeah. that was my day#me being a teacher was just never going to work out… i don’t word good#personal
1 note
·
View note
Text
See Through My Eyes, Part 2
Summary: you and Bucky have to talk
Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings: language, sexual imagery, mentions of genital worship, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
Steve watches his friend intensely. Staring as he walks from one side of the living room to the next. Hearing his goddaughter in the next room, screaming so loudly he wants to grab Bucky and make him talk to him. He’s never seen Bucky like this except once.
“Who the fuck did you knock up?”
“I heard that, Steve! I’m telling Miss Fawn!”
Steve’s mouth flies open, staring down the hallway, and he wonders if Izzy just has an alarm for bad words. “Buddy, I won’t say another bad word if you just tell me what is going on? You have only been like this when you found out Kenton was pregnant.”
Bucky just nods his head, stopping abruptly as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He used damn condoms. He pulled them off, and tied them up, and he spent the night with you. It wasn’t like you shoved anything back up inside of you. And you didn’t even seem to want or need him in your life or the baby’s. You were perfectly content.
”Buck?”
“Remember the Tinder date?”
“Mother…”
“Uncle Steve!” Izzy growls before she peeks her head out of her bedroom, “Miss Fawn will hear about this. She says profanity is not nice, and she’s growing a baby!” She stomps her foot one time to emphasize her words, and Bucky turns to look at his independent daughter before pointing to her bedroom.
“This is a grownup talk thing, huh?” He nods his head, and she sighs before closing her door and turning on Taylor Swift louder than Bucky normally allows. Grabbing her microphone before singing along with the obnoxious tune.
“James Buchanan Barnes, you knocked up her teacher!”
“I did not know that doeeyez1917 was Miss Fawn!”
“You are having a baby with Miss Fawn! Oh my god! Oh my god! Well, was she good? Like was the sex at least good? You got another person pregnant, do you not use protection? Is she a screamer? Wait, what kinks do you have? How far along is she? Have you seen her since the first night? Why are you just now telling me about this? What is…?”
“Steven!” Bucky’s hands grab onto his head because Steve is saying every question, and then some out loud, and Bucky’s head is swimming. Today was a stupid long day at work. It was too hot, the men on his crew wanted to be lazy and he pulled more weight on the team, and he was exhausted. He was late picking up his daughter, and then he finds out you were pregnant.
“Was the sex good?”
“The best I’d ever had,” Steve’s eyes go as large as saucers, and his hand shoves into his mouth. “Stop, don’t do that.”
“So why are you just now finding out she’s pregnant? And are you sure it’s yours? What is it? Oh my god, you’re going to have another spawn!” Bucky sighs, and collapses on the couch, “Buddy, what’s going on in your pretty little head?”
“I fucked up,” Steve cringes as he stares down the hall to Izzy’s door, but the music is either too loud or she knew that grownup talk was something she didn’t need to interrupt.
“Today was the first day you saw her, huh?” Bucky nods his head, his eyes blank as he stares out at nothing. He knew very little about you, but he did know more about Miss Fawn. And he knew about Miss Fawn through his daughter. His daughter that adored her teacher, and always managed to bring her up in everyday talk.
“If the sex was that good, why didn’t you see her again?”
“I deleted the app because I didn’t think I needed it, but then couldn’t remember how to get back in, and my email was no help,” Steve purses his lips as he stares at Bucky curiously. “And you said Tinder was about hooking up. So I just figured she wasn’t interested.”
“Why would you listen to me? You knew where she lived, you said you went to her house, so why didn’t you…”
”Because I’m stupid. I should have,” his voice falls into a whisper. How could he be so stupid? He knew exactly where you were and he wonders if you’ve been scared. If you tried to get in contact with him or if you just figured you’d deal with the consequences. But it was both of your consequences.
“So…Miss Fawn and doeeyes1917 are the same person. Your daughter’s teacher has Bucky growing inside of her,” Bucky fake retches, and starts laughing. “Do you know what a condom is?”
“We used them. I took it off, and she asked me if I would fuck her again just so she could watch me do that one more time,” Bucky’s chuckle turns dark at the times that he encouraged you one more time. Every time you gave so freely to him, and you looked so pretty, and felt so good coming over his fat cock. After two orgasms you were completely compliant to whatever he wanted, and he kept taking.
Over and over again until tears were leaking from your eyes, and you begged for him to come so you could sleep. He assured you that he would keep fucking you even if you were asleep, and he kissed away your stray tears as pleasure erupted in your body again.
“Ew, dad sex is gross.”
“I don’t think Miss Fawn minded my dad sex,” you definitely didn’t mind. You didn’t mind at all.
“Clearly not now that she made you a daddy again. Is she…like showing? What is your mother going to say?”
“Fuck me,” he growls. His mom. She hated Kenton, and told her son not to be knocking some bitch up again. “And yeah, she’s,” he stops, wishing the shock wouldn’t have gotten to him and he could have appreciated the way your dress hugged the little bump of his child. “Steve, she was gorgeous. All cute, and swollen, and she’s full of me, and…”
“You have the weirdest breeding kink.”
“She likes kids.”
“Other people’s kids,” that much is obvious. You are a teacher, and Izzy loved you so much she never quit talking about you.
“She wanted this child and didn’t need me. Izzy loves her, and she could be her step mom,” Bucky’s thoughts are spiraling and he’s very much aware of how they’re spiraling, but the thought of Izzy not having to give up her chameleon nickname makes him beam.
“Easy, killer. That’s if she wants to be with your flaky ass. She could just be your second baby mama that doesn’t want to be a stepmom, and she doesn’t want things to change. So calm your tits, and think about this. Are you going to have a conversation with her?” Bucky can only nod his head as he stares out in the distance.
He didn’t want that to be an option. He didn’t want to think about you and his child living in a two bedroom apartment all alone, and it isn’t even in the nicest part of town. He could help provide you with a good life. You and his children. And Izzy already adored you, and he wasn't sure how he was going to introduce you as the woman carrying her sibling, but it had to happen. He wants to be in the baby’s life, and yours.
“I’ve got more rooms in this house.”
“Stop it. Stop that.”
“She can be on a different floor.”
“Bucky!” Steve throws his head back onto the back of the couch, slapping his hand on his friend’s leg. “Don’t you dare meet with her to talk and tell her that she can move into your home with Izzy, while she grows your baby. You deleted Tinder, you didn’t go see her, and now you’re her student’s father, and she’s carrying your child. Bucky, this is what went wrong with you and Ken.”
“Ken was always a bitch.”
“Yeah, but you moved way to fast, and you still need better condoms. What kind of sperm is your cock growing? Super sperm!”
“Super sperm!” Izzy’s evil laugh can be heard in her bedroom before she opens the door, and runs into her daddy’s lap, “What is super sperm?”
“Steve, tell Izzy what super sperm is.”
“A word that you don’t say. Ever ever,” Izzy isn’t buying it. It’s a word she shouldn’t say, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to know why.
“That makes no sense.”
“It’s an adult word,” she looks at her dad, and back at Steve. “I’m telling the truth. It’s an adult word. You wouldn’t say shit would you?”
“I’m telling my teacher you said all the bad words.”
You pace around your kitchen as you play over Bucky picking up Izzy. Izzy. Your little chameleon. The little girl that will hide what’s really going on in her life, but sometimes these little words come out like her mom hadn’t called her. She is so resilient, and she is Bucky’s daughter. Your baby daddy.
You didn’t see your life this way. You had fully accepted that you were going to be single, and never ever have kids. It was a fairytale dream you had when you were younger. And then Bucky and his fucking super sperm happened. They wiggled their way into your body, and bonded with your egg, and now you’ve got this child growing in you.
He deleted Tinder, which makes sense for all the messages you sent him. You decide you’re going to start off by showing him the messages. Yes. You tried to reach out, but you knew nothing about him, you didn’t even know his fucking last name until he picked Izzy up. Barnes. Baby Barnes. Maybe Barnes. You had already committed to the baby having your last name because you were a loser that didn’t know their child’s father’s last name.
Bucky has to be a nickname anyways, and you didn’t know his real name. That man was drilling into you all night, and you just kept moaning Bucky. What if he had a different name? And you didn’t fucking know, “I’m sorry, baby,” you whine, petting along your stomach.
“I know nothing about your father other than he has a big fucking cock, and it’s slightly curved, and it hits me in just the right spot, and I guess I orgasmed so good that here you are,” you roll your eyes as you look up at the ceiling, feeling your eyes start to fill up with tears.
“Why do you always do this to me? You’re so cute and perfect, and your mom is a fuck up. I didn’t know your dad’s last name. I don’t even know if your dad wants to be in your life, and if he doesn’t and I know who his daughter is that’s going to hurt so much. Izzy’s so sweet,” your voice goes up an octave. “I hate this crying.”
How could you find out all this information and not cry? You didn’t even want to know what the sex of your baby is going to be because it gave you something to look forward to, considering you couldn’t feel its daddy’s dick again. “I shouldn’t think things about your daddy, but he has a really nice cock, and he knows how to use it.”
Your hand rubs up and down the little bump, and you scowl as a vision of Bucky wanting to touch his baby pops into your head, “No, I will not think of him. Why? Because I was supposed to be single all my life. Now I’ve got a fucking crib in my fucking office, and I can’t stop saying fuck, and I’m becoming a mother. And I’m so pissed off with how stupid I was. And I’m not getting my hopes up in thinking that Bucky wants to be in our lives, because he already has a child, and a baby mama who sounds like a bitch, and if I saw her I would punch her for Izzy. What mother doesn’t call their child? Ugh!”
He is coming over today, and you didn’t have to give him your address, he remembered. Asshole. He remembered, but didn’t bother to come by and see you. If you were oh so wonderful why couldn’t he spare a drive to your apartment? Why was the deleting of Tinder an excuse, and why did you believe it at that moment?
“I am not supposed to be stressed!” You scream, and rub on your belly, apologizing. “Ahh!” Flinching, and screaming when a loud knock happens on your door. “I’m coming,” hating yourself for saying that because you know who it is, and the last time you said that was under very different circumstances.
You swing the door open, and smile at him. Your heart hurts just to see his face. Brows tilt up as he looks around your body, “Why are you stressed?” Is he looking for a source of stress? The source is right in front of you with his big cock self.
“You heard that?”
“The walls here are too thin.”
“Are you insulting my home,” he cringes. Literally cringes. “I see.”
“It’s not the nicest neighborhood,” okay, you carried the little cat keychain and pepper spray, you’re sure most girls do. But you feel extremely defensive about his comments. “Can I come in?”
“Are you sure the walls won’t be too thin?”
“I didn’t mean to insult your home.”
“Good you didn’t seem to mind them being thin a few months ago when…” he doesn’t even let you finish. He presses a finger up against your mouth and shushes you. “What are you doing?”
“I apologize. I started this off completely wrong, and I don’t want thing to continue this way. However, you are pregnant with my child and I have questions,” his child. He’s already throwing that word around. “Miss Fawn, I know I’m saying all the wrong things. I’m sorry, truly.”
You take a deep breath as you move away from the door, holding out a hand for him to continue in. He walks past, but keeps looking towards you. His eyes flicking down to your stomach, and you can’t stand it. “Why didn’t you come to my apartment?”
“What?”
“When you deleted the app. Stop. Pause,” you inhale deeply, and look away from him. It hurts to see him, knowing that part of him has been growing inside of you, and he’s missed so much.
“I’m very emotional right now. It’s not just the pregnancy, it’s you. You’re Izzy’s dad, and the father of my child, and this is very overwhelming to me, and I need to change my office to the baby’s room, and I really don’t want to. Definitely not yet, and not — alone. But I need it. I’m not just a teacher, I’m working on something, and,” you take a another deep breath as you try and center your thoughts. “Why didn’t you come here? You remembered where I lived, but you didn’t.”
He sighs. His eyes flicker all over your face, and he gives you that judging look your parents have been giving you since you told them you were pregnant and you didn’t know the baby’s daddy, “Don’t pity me.”
“I’m trying to figure out why I didn’t think of that,” the giggle that releases from your mouth is just as much tears as a laugh. “Can I hug you?”
“I’d really like that,” gulping, you allow him to embrace you, and it feels so right. So warm, and his hand naturally dips to your belly, and he holds your baby just like you dreamed he would, and you hate that you’re getting choked up that your baby’s daddy wants them. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“This doesn’t solve anything,” he huffs out a laugh, and his breath fans over your skin, and you actually tremble. A soft whimper edges out of your throat. The hand on your belly, the place where his child is growing, tightens. “Bucky,” you whisper, taking a step back from him, and he retreats immediately. “We should talk,” you need air and a chance to breathe, and this is just all too much.
“Yes, talk. We left some unfinished business last time.”
“I really can’t handle talking about last time.”
“Why’s that?” Oh, he can’t apologize himself through this. You have thought and thought, and thought some more about last time. The time that got you knocked up and single. The time that changed your world completely, and he was fuck off somewhere. Being pregnant really gives you a potty mouth.
“Because last time you fucked me three ways from Sunday, all fucking night long. Then you stayed. We showered, and fucked some more. Then we got in the bed, and you woke me up by sucking on my clit, and fucked me slowly, and then you carried me into this fucking kitchen, and you had breakfast already delivered. And…well, you know. Why are you smiling?”
“Izzy does this thing whenever she hears me or Steve say a bad word, she always says she’s going to tell you, and I counted five bad words in that story.”
God, he was so fucking cute! Bastard. And he counted your ‘bad words’? Was he even paying attention? “That’s not funny.”
“She would be very disappointed to know that you talk like that.”
“Not in front of kids,” he points at your stomach, and your natural response is to cover the swell with your arms. “They don’t count.”
“They?” His eyes go wide as he looks at your belly. “How many are in there?”
“One. I just don’t want to know what they are. The doctor tried, and I screamed at him,” you see his Adam’s apple bob while his eyes drift back down to your stomach. A sadness creeps over his face and you’re very confused. “What?”
“You’ve been to the doctor?”
“A few times. I needed to. I’m pregnant. It was like I knew immediately, and my ass went to the doctor, and they confirmed it. Got to hear their heartbeat, and stop looking at me that way!” It’s pitiful and you would just about drop to your knees and start sucking his dick if it would make that pouty face stop. Why is he cuter now that his child is growing in you?
“I missed hearing the first heartbeat,” fuck him. There’s this adorable look he gives you, but it breaks your heart. Realizing that Bucky really wanted this life.
“It still beats. Come here,” you take him to the tiny living room, and point towards the couch before retreating into your office/baby room, and come back with a device. Pulling up your shirt, and he bites on his lip. “Don’t tell me you have a breeding kink,” you giggle as you spread on some gel, and place a wand on your stomach.
Moving it around as you smile at him, “Come on. Your…father is waiting.”
“Daddy.”
“Daddy?” You ask, moving the wand around some more.
“If it’s okay. That’s what I’d like the baby to call me,” do not cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Find the damn heartbeat. Please, find it. Find. It. “Oh my god,” Bucky sits up straighter on the couch, staring straight at your Doppler wand. “Is that?”
“Yeah,” you smile, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s my — your — it’s our baby. I make a routine to listen to it every day. I think they enjoy it. I talk to them all the time. That’s who I was talking to when you said I had thin walls.”
“You do. It’s not insulated well, but this is amazing,” he changed that sentence real quick, and you don’t even care. “That’s our baby,” our. He fucking sucks. You’re trying to have an adult conversation and not want to worship his balls for giving you this incredible moment, and life growing in you. Thank you, testicles, for fucking a baby into your belly so you could have this man as your baby daddy. He’s hot, cute, and sweet. Goddammit.
“So?”
“So,” he responds, waiting for you to put the Doppler up, and you look at him. “Thank you.”
“Why?” You know this asshole is going to say something sweet, and you’re trying not to fall in love with your baby daddy who you only had sex with once. One night. Multiple times. Who is counting?
“I don’t know. For being incredible. For not being a bitch, and resenting me. For giving me a chance. And you’re not being weird about this, and I should apologize on behalf of my sperm.”
”Please, don’t do that?”
“Why?”
“Because I get horny thinking about your sperm. Oh my god that sounds so weird. What I mean is that your condom removal, sir, should be written about. I mean — can I lay everything out on the line?”
“I really wish you would,” is there pleading in Bucky’s voice? Is he getting horny with cum talk? He did have a fucking breeding kink. You’d make a note of that. It could serve you well later.
“That night, that glorious, amazing, wonderful night, I haven’t been able to get it off my mind. Don’t touch me while I’m making a point,” his hand retreats from your knee so quickly. He did want you. He’s just as much of a horny bastard as you, and you’re sure with a breeding kink added the fact that you are swollen with his child makes him that much more needy.
“The sex was fucking amazing, but we’re in a different place now, you and I.”
“Sure,” he agrees, but you can tell his tone lacks conviction. It’s true, you are in a different place.
“I don’t know what your intentions are with me or our child, it’s such new information to you. But I’m not a free sex toy. I get I’m already knocked up, so you could blow your warm, glorious load inside of me,” he snorts, covering his mouth, as he apologizes. “I’m sorry, I’m socially a bit awkward with adults, and I’ve been a bit of a recluse. And I’ve never had a baby daddy before, and I’m trying to finish my first book.”
“Honestly, you’re fine. Your embarrassment is adorable,” aw, he thinks you're adorable, and it infuriates you.
“What I mean is I don’t want to have sex.”
“What?” Is that fucking disappointment in his voice? What the fuck? Were you just a fucking sex doll he could put his cum in? “I didn’t mean it that way. I wasn’t actually thinking about fucking you.”
“Why not?” That is rude. You were thinking about fucking him. And sucking him. Even about kissing each of his balls over and over again, and thanking them for their service before you sucked each in your mouth, and fist his cock. You just weren’t ready for sex, but you wanted it so bad. You were trying to be a respectful mother. And then he can respectfully disrespect you.
“I would very like to fuck you again.”
“Okay,” that is satisfactory enough for now. You know your shoulders shimmy because you may be growing a human, but you are growing his human. It’s different. Since he very much would like to fuck you again it adds a bit of a confidence boost.
“I have been here before. I tried so hard to make it work with Kenton, Izzy’s mom, but all she wanted was my credit card, and not my daughter. And yes, I say mine, because Izzy is all mine. I will fight for her, and I will fight for ours. But I don’t want to fight you. I’m too damn old. And I don’t want to do this alone. Do you?”
You shake your head no as the pesky tears start to fill your eyes. You didn’t want to be a single mom. “Good. But we’ve had one night together. We talked and had fun, but I was too concerned with getting my cock in your tight pussy to be bothered with anything else.”
“You think I have a tight pussy?” Why are the things this man says doing things for you?
He laughs, nodding his head. His shoulders bounce up and down with joy, and he gets the prettiest pink on his cheeks. He is sweet too. “You have the tightest pussy,” aww!! You aren’t sure why that is so sweet and sexy, but it is. He likes your puss!
“What I mean is we’ve got a lot to learn and not a lot of time to do it,” this much is obvious. You’ve been thinking about their life from the moment it was confirmed you were pregnant.
”I know, they’ll be here before you know it.”
“I’ve got more than enough room in my house,” left turn. Left turn. Absolutely not. “The baby would have its own room, and not your office. You could have an office, and even…”
“No.”
“But,” abort mission. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
“I don’t want to move in with you. We just said we can’t jump into having sex.”
“Can you let me finish?” You huff out air, but shut up. Rude. “You would have your own room, too. I don’t like this neighborhood.”
“This is my home!” He is back to hating this neighborhood. Self righteous prick.
“Is this where you’ve always wanted to live?”
“No, but this is mine! If I move in with you, it’s yours. And what if we don’t work out, I’m homeless,” rule number one, don’t let a man dictate your life and tell you what to do.
“I wouldn’t do that to my child.”
“You’d take them away from me like…”
“Stop right now,” you went too far, and you knew it. You knew before you started that sentence you should halt. “I will not argue about my daughter. And I never took her from Ken, she left her. You know the fucked up thing? I can’t get her for abandonment because she left her with her father. She didn’t abandon her. A parent is taking care of her. But we’re not doing this, so if you want to continue the conversation we can, but this isn’t up for debate.”
“Bucky, I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have gone there. You’re a great dad. I would know,” he nods with his jaw tight and tensing, thanking you silently. “I just — this place isn’t much, but it’s mine. And I just don’t want to put myself in a position where a man can take advantage of me, and I’m trapped.”
“How about the money you pay for rent here, you put it into savings, so if anything happens, you have that money.”
“What do you do?”
“I work construction.”
“I’ve had you growing inside of me and I didn’t know that. Or your name. So this is fast. And I’m overwhelmed. It’s so much. It’s too much sometimes. And moving in with you seems so permanent, but,” tears start pouring out of your eyes because your dreams of becoming a mother never started off like this. You knew life and fiction were not the same thing and you knew that you could be in worse positions, but this is so confusing.
“I want our baby to have both of us in their life, and I don’t want to go between homes, and I don’t want to get up with the baby by myself all night long. And this apartment smells funny in the summer, and I do hate it. And my car had a flat tire the other day, and I was late to work because my dad couldn’t get here, and he found out my tire was slashed, and I’m not a terrible tenant, but I’m so scared.”
“Come here,” he doesn’t even wait for you to get up, he just pulls you into his lap. Resting his chin on top of your head as you wail. Why is all that fucking shit just pouring out of you? Why can you not control these damn tears? It’s his fault. You had every word planned out, and then he gets here, and everything evaded you.
“I can’t even nest. And the books say to nest, but our baby’s room is a mess. It’s so ugly. And I can’t paint here, and I don’t know if my lease can have another human. And they’re going to be human,” of course your baby was a fucking human. What else were they supposed to be? “I’m a basket case.”
“You’re pregnant, baby,” why did that sound so sweet? Ugh, he feels so warm and hard and so right. “Shh, it’s okay. We can get you an apartment closer to my house.”
“But I don’t want to be alone with a baby. I’ve never done this before.”
“I know, but I have done this. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. You can have your own room. And it’s an open invitation, okay?” Why is it hard? Why did this decision give you so much pause and anxiety? Ugh, you hate this. Because moving in feels like you’re drowning. Giving it all up so quickly for a man. But if you had to make it work.
“I don’t want to just be roommates that have a child.”
“I don’t either,” he almost growls in your ear. “We can start off slow, and go on dates. Like out of the house.”
“Bucky?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you going to tell Izzy?”
“Fuck,” one word, and you feel the same. This is confusing to you, and she’s a child. Izzy knows you’ve been pregnant, and out of all the kids in your class, she loved it. Always asked to touch your belly, and to go to the baby’s birthday shower. It’s so cute. But how is she going to handle dealing with the fact that your baby is also her daddy’s baby?
“We’ll figure it out,” that’s better than nothing, but leaves a lot to the imagination. What did that mean? “Shh, try to rest. I’ll keep holding you as long as you need,” this is so sweet, and it’s going to be hard because fuck him and his fucking amazing cock. But it will be worth it for you and your unborn child to take things slow. So fucking slow.
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @w1nter-wolf-barnes1 @distractingbeth @mdpplgtz03 @sjsmith56 @winterslove1917 @ryuuisthecutest @buckybarnessimpp @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom @thedonswife13 @sarahdonald87 @pono-pura-vida
#see through my eyes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fics#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#single dad!bucky#single dad au#accidental pregnancy au
149 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I request morning sex with chenle like you waking up cause he’s grinding on you in his sleep and it just leads to sex 🙏🏼 the lack of chenle smut on this app has me in shambles
Also I literally adore your writing <33
MORNING SEX; ZHONG CHENLE
pairings. boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader
wc. 524
warnings. consented somno, unprotected sex
chenle was the very first smut i posted on here, i'm glad he made a comeback, it is rare to see a chenle smut, i hope you like it 💓!
morning sex with chenle before you guys start the day.
—
your eye's fluttered opened, confused as you felt your boyfriend grinding his morning woods against your ass. "chenle?" you called out to him, but he did answer. "babe, what are you do-oh?" you turned over, facing him, your annoyed frown slowly turning into a smirk as you come to the realization that he's sleeping.
"b..babe please." he moaned in a whispered tone. "please." he was having a wet dream. "please im so hard, please do something." his hips bucked up into the air desperately.
you looked at the clock, you both had 20 minutes before you had to get up and start your routines—why not, you chenle talked about fucking each other awake before, why not try it today?
you shimmed out of your pajama shorts, straddling your boyfriends legs, gently pulling his pajamas down, careful not to wake him just yet. his hard cock slapped against his stomach, you held it in your hand pumping it a few times, before hovering over his tip, slowly mounting yourself on his cock.
"fuck." you breathed heavily as his cock stretched you out, you started moving your hips up and down, bending down to press little kisses along his jaw.
chenle began to stir in his sleep, slowly waking up. "h..huh." his eyes opened. "baby what are you doing?" his voice laced with sleep.
"you were having a really interesting dream." you moaned, not stopping your movements, his lazy smile told you he was fully awake now.
"you were doing exactly this." he groaned, his hands coming down to your ass, giving it a slap. "except you were going faster." you sped up your movements as fast as you could, it wasn't often you rode chenle.
"s..so full." your hands were pressed against his chest as you bounced on his cock. "baby i know you can go a little faster, be a good girl, we don't have long." he gave your ass another slap, telling you to go faster, you obeyed. "thats it, fuck princess, bounce on my cock." he reached up to grabbed your boobs through your shirt.
"c..chenle, shit." your legs were starting to get tired, chenle took notice, immediately taking over. "it's okay, i got you." he plated his feet on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist, fucking up into at a fast pace.
"fuck! " the wind was knocked out of you as his pace was much faster than yours and his trust more brutal.
"c..chenle, im about to cum."
his thrust were becoming less coordinated, signaling he wasn't far from his orgasm he'd been chasing since before this even started. "s...shit, me too."
"im cumming, fuck!" you moaned against his ear, body pressed against his. he pulled your ass flush against him as he painted your wall white, his own orgasm hitting him. "fuck!"
you stayed on top of him, feeling his cock soften inside you as you both came down from your high, just as your alarm went off. "i don't even think i can go into work after that."
"then take off, so we can do that again all day long."
©️LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader#nct dream hard hours#nct smut#nct x reader#nct dream hard thoughts#nct hard hours#nct hard thoughts#chenle x reader#chenle smut#zhong chenle smut#chenle scenarios#chenle imagines
996 notes
·
View notes
Text
Connected ch2
pairing: chan x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
word count: ~1.5k
warnings: crying, overall sadness, mentions of food
an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace.
masterlist * previous chapter * next chapter
today was hard. it seemed like every day had been hard for you recently. and not for any particular reason that you could pinpoint. life just felt.. hard. everything just felt so heavy. all day long your mind is constantly going with ‘you’re so fat’ ‘why did you say that? you’re weird.’ ‘remember that embarrassing thing that happened in 6th grade?’ ‘no one likes you.’ ‘everyone hates you, of course they do.’
“why can’t i just have a good day?” you said aloud to yourself, feeling defeated. all you wanted to do was go home, crawl in bed, put your headphones in and turn on some music. or maybe a comfort audio, though you felt you were a little dependent on those these days. so when the time finally rolled around for you to get off work, that’s exactly what you did. you unlocked the door, not even bothering to say hello to your cat, you headed to the bathroom to change your clothes. you avoided the mirror at all costs, not able to look at yourself. once the comfy clothes were secured, you went to your room and flung yourself on the bed. finally you thought. you curled under the cover, pulling it up to your chin, phone in hand. you slipped your headphones in and opened your music app.
you turned on some stray kids, because of course you did. hearing their voices, especially chan, you immediately felt somewhat soothed. you closed your eyes and let the music take over.
i tried to hide away from all the sorrow and pain
but little did i know that i was going insane
the tears started to gather then, at the corners of your eyes. you squeezed them shut tighter, a few tears slipping past and down to your pillow. you really loved that part of the song. the whole song is so beautiful, but chans voice there really makes you emotional.
you thought back to his messages from the other day. by the other day you meant it had been a few weeks. you had felt down and have had plenty of nightmares, but you never reached out to him again. you felt like you would be bothering him. you would be a burden to him, just like you are to everyone else. he only reached out the first time because he felt bad for you. he only told you to message him just to be nice. he didn’t really mean it. but sometimes, just to soothe yourself, you’ll open the chat and reread the messages he sent. thats what you did now, opening instagram you read through the chat again, smiling at his flirtatious attitude.
•
at some point you must have fallen asleep. you wake with a start from yet another nightmare, covered in sweat, tears streaming down your cheeks. it’s dark outside now, the middle of the night again. you just want one good nights sleep. just one. your phone is still clutched in your hand, instagram chats still open. you go to close the app, but hesitate. maybe you would send him a message. he probably won’t answer, but you thought it was worth a try. you could really use the comfort. but you found yourself struggling again with what to say. you had typed out a few messages, but deleted each one. you sounded too desperate. too annoying. until eventually, you had almost talked yourself out of it altogether. you drafted one last message:
“had another nightmare. came back to reread these messages. they comfort me. thank you again.”
and before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit send. you don’t know how long you sat there, phone in hand, chats open, staring at the screen. but you eventually fell asleep again, not waking up until morning when your alarm started blaring in your ear. you rubbed at your blurry, sleep filled eyes. rolling over, you see your phone. it was still open to instagram, the battery almost dead. you grab for the phone, your chest filled with hope, only to be crushed by the last message you sent. he hadn’t answered you. of course he didn’t, why would he? he’s busy, and you’re a nobody. you plugged the phone in and dragged yourself out of bed to get ready for work.
•
a few days had passed, and things were still the same. every night after work, you went home and crawled into bed. some nights were better than others, those nights where you could actually stomach some food and force yourself to take a shower. and other nights were bad, where you couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling and let the dread creep in.
tonight was one of the bad nights. you stared at the ceiling, the same old fan slowly spinning overhead, the same comfort audio you had listened to about a million times played in your ears. you knew you needed to eat something, you hadn’t had anything all day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. you just continue to lay there.
suddenly, your audio cut off and a weird ringing filled your ears. a sound you had never heard. you looked down at your phone and you had an incoming call from instagram. who knew you could call someone through instagram. you were more shocked to see who was calling. it was chan. you immediately started to panic. what do you do? was he calling to tell you to stop contacting him? was he mad? why wouldn’t he just block you if that was the case?
with shaky hands you reached out and accepted the call.
“he-hello?” you stuttered.
“hi!” he answered. he sounded a little nervous, but it was clearly chan. there’s no mistaking that voice. “i’m so so sorry i didn’t answer your message. i didn’t see it until just now. i had my notifications on, i promise. but instagram never notified me. i’m sorry. are you okay?”
your brain short circuited. was he just calling to check on you? he didn’t sound mad or annoyed.
“you..” you started your sentence but lost it after only one word.
“you’re upset with me.” he sighed. “i really am sorry, i don’t know why i didn’t get notified of your message.”
his voice sounded sad. you could hear a little commotion in the background, what sounded like playful arguing and laughter. but it was muffled, almost like the rowdiness was in the room next to him, the loud voices traveling through the wall.
“i’m not upset with you.” you told him. “just- just a little surprised is all”
“surprised?” he asks.
“yeah. i never would have thought you would call me.”
“is it okay that i did?” he asks. “i noticed your message and wanted to apologize for not responding. and i felt like it was too important to say over text… so i called.”
“oh. well, i don’t mind. you’re very nice, chan.”
he nervously laughed a little at that, and you could feel the corners of your mouth turn up slightly at the sound.
“you never answered me.” he said. and you were confused. you were pretty sure he was the one who never answered you. that’s why this call was happening, right? “are you okay?”
oh, he meant you didn’t answer his question from before.
“yeah, i’m okay.” you tell him.
“that didn’t sound very convincing.” he says, chuckling.
“no, i’m okay.” you reply. “just, the last little while has been hard. but i’m okay. i promise. you don’t need to worry about me. you’re so busy.”
“but i do worry about you. im always here if you need me, im never too busy for that.” he promises.
“i-i wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“you’re not bothering me. you deserve to be happy. you deserve someone who will listen. and that’s me.” you could tell he was smiling, you could hear it in his voice. you really didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know what you ever did to deserve someone like chan in your life.
“hyung, minhos ready to start practice again.” you faintly heard someone, who sounded a lot like han jisung, say in the background.
“okay, i’m coming. just a sec.” chan answered. “i have to go.” he says to you now, “i’m sorry i couldn’t talk longer. i’ll text you, okay?”
all of this felt so surreal to you. you had to be dreaming right now and it would soon take a turn for the scary and you would wake up screaming.
“uh, yeah, of course.” you say. “only if you have time.”
“i’ll make time.” he tells you. “try to get some rest. and don’t skip meals, yeah?”
you shyly nodded, but then realized he couldn’t see you. “yeah. okay.” you answer.
“okay, bye.” he says, his voice soft, almost like he is sad to be hanging up.
“bye, chan.” and then the line goes silent.
to be added to the taglist for this series, just let me know.
🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕
#bang chan#stray kids#bang chan stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids bang chan#bang chan fluff#bang chan hurt/comfort#connected series#hyunjins orange slice too#bang chan x reader
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
6:47am - Georgia
By the time my alarm finally goes off, I’ve already been awake for at least an hour. I didn’t sleep very well last night, I think I woke up twice. I roll over to grab my phone, which has somehow made it to the floor. I guess it’s time to actually get up. I shake off my blanket and sit up, my alarm still blaring. I lean down and grab my phone, silencing the alarm with the button on the side. 6:47am, ew, at least it’s almost Friday. Sixteen texts, all from my math class group chat. My teacher posted the grades last night. I guess I was asleep or at the game. What’s the website again? I might as well check my grade now. Power something. Before I can think of it, I remember there’s an app.
“Peach? Are you up?” I hear my dad ask, followed by a knock.
“Yeah,” I respond, yawning. Username… What did Mom make it? This was my first test of the year, so I’ve never actually logged in before. I’m sure she sent it to me.
“There’s no hot water this morning,” Dad tells me.
“That’s fine, I showered last night,” I reply. As soon as I got home, I showered and passed out. Our game went on forever, we barely won in the third set. Coach gave me about a five minute in the second set break before she threw me back in. At least my shoulder doesn’t hurt this morning. I turn to my left, giving it a slight stretch. Just kidding.
“Breakfast in twenty,” he informs me. I don’t say anything in response. I hear him knocking at Lucy’s door, relaying to her the same thing he told me.
I find the username and password in my texts with Mom. The username is just my name and the password is her usual password to everything. 1122050407010119. It looks like a random assortment of numbers, but it’s actually all of our birthdays strung together. I type them both into the app and wait for it to load. I think I did okay on the test. Math isn’t my strongest class this year. The home screen pops up and I press on my math class. I have a C? 72/100 on the test. Shit. That’s three points away from failing.My school doesn’t do D’s, so anything under a 70 is counted as an F.
There’s another knock on the door, quieter this time, I’m guessing it’s Mom. “Good morning, love, are you awake?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m awake.” I stand up, leaving my phone on my bed. I can’t believe I got a C. I’ve never gotten a C. At least it’s only the first test.
“Can I come in?” Ugh. Not now.
“I’m getting dressed.” I still need to figure out what I’m going to wear today. There’s no game, which means I don’t have to dress up. Thank god. I’m too tired to think of an outfit.
“I can wait,” she says.
“What do you want?” I ask her, slightly annoyed. I open my closet and see clothes everywhere. I really need to do laundry.
“I want to talk to you about something,” she replies.
“Dad already told me about the shower.”
“It’s not about the shower.” What does she want? There’s no way it’s about my test. She and Dad stopped checking my grades years ago.
“Okay. You can’t talk to me about it later?” I quickly change into a t-shirt and my last clean pair of jeans. Black on black, nice. My jeans feel a little loose, so I grab the only black belt off my shelf. It’s actually Mom’s belt, she let me borrow it months ago. I forgot it was still in here. Should I even wear this? Whatever, it’s fine. Mom’s expensive belt it is.
“Are you upset?” I just got up five minutes ago. What does she need at seven in the morning?
“No, just tired,” I sigh, dragging a brush through my tangled hair. If the grades are up, that means we’re definitely getting our tests back today. Great. I can’t wait to see how bad I did.
“Did you sleep okay?” I roll my eyes. Really, Mom? I don’t feel like having a conversation through the door.
“Just come in.”
The door opens and in steps Mom. She seems to be in a good mood this morning. Can’t relate.
“Hi,” she greets softly. I don’t turn around.
“What?” I bluntly reply. I’m staring at her through the mirror.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I lie, “I’m just tired.” If I tell Mom that I did bad on my test, she’s just going to tell me it’s okay. It’s normal to fail sometimes, love. That’s not what I want to hear right now.
“Georgia-”
“What do you want, Mom?” I interrupt. I wish she’d leave me alone.
“What’s wrong?” She’s standing behind me, watching me with concerned eyes.
“You had something you wanted to talk to me about,” I remind her.
“That can wait. What’s bothering you?”
“Seriously? You came in here to tell me something and now you’re not gonna tell me?” I’m frustrated now.
“I’ll tell you after you tell me what’s bothering you,” she says. She reaches for my shoulder, I pull away.
“I already told you. Nothing,” I lie for the second time. I know she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t care. Mom lies, I can too.
She frowns, clearly not satisfied by my answer. “We both know that’s not true.”
“So now you’re calling me a liar?” I retort.
“Georgia-”
I cut her off again, “Tell me or get out.”
She doesn’t respond. I know she’s not going tell me whatever she wanted to say. Whatever. I’m not surprised. Not telling me things seems to be her favorite thing to do these days.
“I’ll leave you alone,” she finally says, “Breakfast will be ready soon, okay?”
“Dad already told me.”
“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs,” she pauses, “I love you.” Her eyes meet mine for a second before I quickly look away.
Mom stands there for a few more seconds before quietly leaving. I return to my phone, maybe I read the grade wrong. I log in again and wait for it to load. Wrong password, dang it. I always forget the order. I try the password for the second time and it lets me in. Algebra 2, C-. Nope, didn’t read it wrong, I still have a C. Great. Maybe Ms. Stevens will let me do corrections or extra credit or something. I don’t know. I’ve never gotten a grade this low before.
#this is a redo of a post I did over a year ago#one more redo coming.... sometime#then I guess I continue#who knows#sm#the sims 4#georgia#charlotte#georgia pov#somethingmore
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: this is a transition chapter (??)
Part 2: First Day
Monday: August 23, 2021
can you feel where the wind is? can you feel it through, all of the windows inside this room
Jazlyn pulled up to the Thrombey Estate at 6:43 AM. she parked the car and turned the music down.
she took out her phone and set an alarm for 6:55. she opened the message app and shot a text to the group chat.
Core Four 👯👯: made it to work ♥️
she unwrapped her pop-tart, eating in silence trying to mentally prepare for the day.
you interviewed for the job and you got it. you are diligent and sedulous. you've worked hard and studied for this.
when she finished her pop tart she took a deep breath and began to meditate, making her own safe haven.
once she enter the state of serenity her alarm went off, and it was time for her to actually go in the house.
she flipped down her visor, checking her hair and makeup. she spent the weekend installing fulani braids; they were too tight to style, so she opted to simply let them flow down her back. closing the visor she grabbed her old messenger bag and phone, heading straight to the home.
there was a major deja vu moment as she took a deep breath before knocking on the door.
“yes?” the same middle aged white woman opened the door.
“hi, i'm Jazlyn Reed—Mr. Thrombey’s new assistant.”
“oh, yeah.” she nodded, stepping aside letting her in. “Linda, asked for you to meet her in the dining room.”
she led her to the dining room where Linda was sitting at the island, sporting a navy pants suit, focused on her laptop.
“Linda?” she gained her attention “Jasmine is here.”
“um, Jazlyn.” she corrected from the doorway of the dining room.
“Jasmine.” Linda smiled at her standing from her seat.
“Jazlyn.” she corrected, again, straightening up the strap on her messenger bag.
“thanks, Fran.” she dismissed her “come, sit.” she waved Jaz over.
she went over and sat on the stool next to Linda.
“i’m glad you were available for this job.”
“i’m glad you chose me.”
sounding kinds desperate. the voice in her head said.
"so, today will be a bit busy." she said pulling an Apple bag from the floor. "here is your work phone, work laptop and work tablet" she pulled each out the bag setting them on the counter. "they are for work purposes only. the phone is activated with your work number. this is your work log-in information" she handed her a sticky note.
email: Jazlyn.Reed@BLWPublishing password: ***************
"and these are all the emails and phone numbers that will need to be transferred to your email and number." she place a legal pad on the counter. "once you're done with all of this Harlan will tell you what to do next."
she grabbed the legal pad looking it over. it was two full pages long, front and back. it was a bit jarring how many contacts there were and there was no way all of these are necessary.
"oh, ok." Jazlyn nodded a bit confused sitting it back on the counter.
"also this is my dad's schedule for the next two months." she put a planner, reading 2021-2022 on the cover, next to the legal pad.
“this is your time sheet,” Linda pulled her out of her thoughts placing a sheet of paper in front of her.
it read Monthly Time Sheet with Jasmine Reed written on the top causing her to mentally rolled her eyes. there were sections to clock in and out for work, break and lunch.
“it stays in Harlan’s office, you will get a new one every month. you get a 30 minute break and a 30 minute lunch. you can clock in right now.” she handed her a pen.
checking her time she signed in at 7:04 AM.
"any questions?" she grabbed the pen back packing up her briefcase.
that’s all the information i get
"is there a designated place for me to work?" Jazlyn began stacking the all paraphernalia that Linda gave her.
"no, anywhere you feel comfortable." she stood up grabbing her briefcase “any other questions?”
she shook her head lifting up the apparati for work.
“alright, well, good luck on your first day.” Linda held a hand out
“thank you.” she smiled accepting it.
when Linda left out the dining room, Jazlyn closed her eyes taking a deep breath.
you’ve got this. this isn’t something you haven’t done before.
she turned and went to make her way to Harlan’s office. she knocked on the door and was greeted with a come in. opening the door she saw Harlan and Marta sitting in a similar position of three weeks ago.
"good morning." she greeted Mr. Thrombey and Marta.
"good morning." Marta smiled from her seat next to Harlan.
he just looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.
"um, Mrs. Drysdale told me to leave my time sheet with you." she handed to sheet of paper over.
"so, she chose you?" he took the paper and place it in the sliding hutch drawer in his desk.
“yes, sir.” she nodded.
he looked her over shaking his head before going back to what ever he was writing in his notebook.
“is there anything you need done?” she asked Mr. Thrombey
“Linda said she’d debrief on everything that needed to be done.”
“um, yes she did, but i just wanted to see if you needed anything else before i started on everything.”
he gave her a blank stare
“ok.” she nodded making a swift exit.
after returning her time sheet to Harlan, she went to look for somewhere comfortable to work.
she landed on the front porch. it reminded her of the porch at her Big Mama's house in Lutcher—minus the mansion it was attached to. she sat on the steps of the porch and began feeling a bit emotionally. she had spent so many summers on that porch, on the swing drinking sweet tea with her Big Mama.
she shook her head, trying to refocus and begin to actually work. she opened her work supplies, logging into her work accounts. pulled out the legal pad filled with numbers and emails for her transfer.
after two hours of emails and phone calls her eyes wear tired and her mouth was dry. she stood from her spot on the porch and went on the search for some water.
she went back to the kitchen heading straight to the fridge. she looked over the drink options and there was a plethora.
“um, do you need help?” a voiced asked from behind her.
she flinched turning to see Fran.
“um, yeah. i don’t know if i can just grab something or if there are specific things for specific people.”
“no, you can just grab.”
“oh, thanks.” she turned back grabbing a bottle of Aquafina.
“no, problem.”
she left going back out to the porch, taking sit on the porch bench this time.
her personal phone dinged with a message from the group chat she had with her friends.
Core Four 👯👯: Tia 🫧: how’s it going??
it’s fine
Ash 👒: ft??
sure
the phone rang with a group FaceTime. pulling out her headphones plugging them to the phone, before answering. Tia and Ash were on the call.
Ash yawned “tired. Taylor is PMSing like crazy and kept me up last-”
“Jazzy!” Tia stopped the story about her friend and sister.
“hey.” she smiled at them
“so how’s the job going?” Ash pulling her hair into a ponytail.
“ehh.” she shrugged sitting the phone on the seat “it’s kinda boring.” picking the laptop back up to finish the last ten emails on the list.
“boring how?” Tia asked putting a tray into an oven.
“it’s just transferring numbers and emails.” Jaz rolled eyes picking grabbing her water, mouth getting dry again
"so it's calm?" Tia asked
"yeah, but boring." she sighed taking a sip of water.
"better than being constantly stressed at CVS."
"i guess." she shrugged sending a transferring email to Harlan's Lawyer.
"so, you'd rather be stressed than bored?"
"nooo-well-" she let out a deep breath "i don't know." she truthfully answered knowing she sounded crazy.
"see that's that bull." Tia said getting ready to get on her soap box "you psyching yourself out."
"yeah, your impostor syndrome is getting to you." Ash chimed in "you feel like you don't deserve something nice or good, so you're finding something to complain about."
she hated when they did that. even though they had the best intentions and spoke to her out of love, it always felt like they were ganging up on her.
she never knew how to retort because as soon as she does the other has something to say.
"i don't know, i guess."
"we love you." Tia said.
"yeah, we just feel like you deserve more than you giving yourself." Ash added.
"you're right."
and as if the universe tossed her a line from this sinkhole, Marta came out.
"Jasmine?" she called to her
"Jazlyn." she corrected
"sorry. Mr. Thombey would like for you to walk the dogs."
"OK." she nodded, and Marta retreated back in the house.
"i have to go, i have work to do."
"k, love you." Tia blew her kiss
"have fun, babe." Ash put up two peace signs.
she hung up going to grab the collars to take the dogs on their walk.
#ransom drysdale x black!reader#ransom drysdale x black!OC#ransom drysdale#hugh ransom drysdale#knives out#chris evans#chris evans x black!reader#chris evans x black!oc
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lovelorien
This is my humble participation for HaladrielWeek day 3
Thank you @somebirdortheother for giving me this idea <3
Word count: 800
Tags: Alternate Universe: Modern, Online Dating
Summary: Galadriel is tired and bored. She goes on a dating app.
It was about 6 pm on a Wednesday when Galadriel finally peeled herself out of bed. Damned 72-hour shifts. If there was one thing she hated about her life as a paramedic, it was the fucked up working hours. She sat for a moment and stared blankly at the wall, trying to decide whether she would shower first or eat first. It was definitely "eat" first, since she would have to wash her hair and right now, she was too hungry for that.
Galadriel walked out of her bedroom and into the kitchen, almost tripping over her cat in the process. “Sorry Elrond”, she muttered, and stumbled towards the fridge. “Please don’t be empty, please don’t be empty”, she silently prayed before opening it. Success. A bag of shredded cheese and some ketchup. Triumphantly, Galadriel cut up some potatoes and put them in her air fryer. She loved that thing so much.
She sat down on the cold kitchen floor and took out her phone. The news was depressing as always, and after about five minutes of doom scrolling, Galadriel got bored. Back to online dating it was. Lovelorien was all the rage with people who loved animals, and Galadriel always knew that if she could ever fall in love, it would be with a fellow animal lover.
Halbrand’s profile stood out to her immediately. He was wearing a firefighter uniform and holding a tiny little black cat. “Ask me about Mairon, his bio said. Fuck it. She swiped right. It was a match. At that moment the alarm of the air fryer went off and Galadriel got up to toss some cheese over her potatoes. Two more minutes now, she knew this appliance inside out. Elrond suddenly appeared in the kitchen and rubbed his head on her legs. “Gotta pay the cheese tax”, Galadriel chuckled, and fed Elrond some cheese.
Elrond went back to sleep, and Galadriel sat down to have Breakfast/Dinner. She got out her phone while eating, and saw that she got a message from Halbrand.
H: If you were a vegetable, you would certainly be a sweet potato ;)
G: Fitting, I’m having potatoes for breakfast right now :)
H: Breakfast? It is 6 pm, when did you go to sleep?
G: At about 10 am. I’m a paramedic, had a long shift.
Halbrand is typing…
Galadriel put her phone back away and put the dishes in the sink. That was a problem for later. She changed her linens, tossed all her dirty clothes into the washing machine and jumped under the shower. Today felt like a full beauty routine shower. She even shaved her legs. Galadriel emerged a full hour later, put on her coziest clothes, and flopped down on the couch. The blinking of a green light on her phone told her she had a new message. It was from Halbrand.
H: A paramedic, that is good, because I think my heart just stopped ;)
Galadriel rolled her eyes. Some days she was really asking herself why she ever downloaded Lovelorien in the first place.
G: Good thing you’re a firefighter. I might need help getting down from a tree sometime, I love climbing tall things when I’m drunk.
H: You are very lucky indeed then, I excel at getting adorable tiny things out of trees ;). And if you want to be safe… I’m 6’3, you can climb me anytime you want ;)
Galadriel tossed her phone to the other side of the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling before chasing after it to text him back.
G: So I gotta ask you obviously, who’s Mairon?
H: Mairon is this adorable little fluffy kitten I rescued from a tree a month ago. I adopted him :) What kind of pet do you have?
Galadriel sent Halbrand a picture of Elrond, who was napping on the sofa next to her.
G: This is Elrond, he just demanded the cheese tax and went back to sleep
Halbrand responded with a series of the usual fuckboy emojis.
Galadriel directed her attention back at the TV show she was watching, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him for some reason. That firefighter uniform did things to her. She opened her phone as soon as she got the notification.
H: Do you wanna hang out sometime?
G: I barely even know you. You could be evil for all I know. Is Halbrand even your real name?
H: I have many names, you can call me whatever you want babe. And you may not know me yet, but one day, I could make you my queen.
And in that moment Galadriel knew that she had to meet him. It had been decided, and the tides of fate were flowing.
Notes: I really wanted to make this longer and maybe a bit spicy, but I just wasn't feeling it this past week. The inspiration behind Galadriel is tired exam week me *looks over at air fryer* I love this thing so much. Also yes I made Elrond a cat. Try to stop me.
Taglist: @fenharel-enaste
#haladrielweek#haladriel week#haladriel#rop fanfiction#halbrand#galadriel#modern au#lady of imladris fics
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok lets acutally make a list
reasons to fix my smartphone and start using it again:
I will have access to google maps and feel more free when out by myself
I can use all functionalities of instagram again (story posting, seeing & downloading media that ppl dm me, scrolling reels,...)
I can install an AAC app
I can take a quick photo or screenshot of sth
I can use my front camera as a mirror again (I don't own a full lengt mirror ok)
I can make moodboards and stuff again (collages, memes,...)
I can use whatsapp Iguess (idc sm abt this one)
I can use my phone to pay for stuff or scan qr codes (I hate it but this is so usefull sometimes :/)
I can actually put it on silent (no more buzzing noise)
I can put multiple alarms (I can only put one on my flipphone and it also always makes a loud music sound when going off)
reasons not to get my smartphone fixed:
dollar dollar monnie monnie costs pretty pennies
I would probably doomscroll a whole lot and spend too much time than is good for me on social medias (I still do this, only on desktop, soooo....wouldn't make a big difference tho ://)
I juuuuustt recently commited to my flipphone and I even went and bought a walkman to play music (it was expensive) . If I use my smartphone again I render that expense useless&unnessecary.
anxiety about phone getting stolen / losing my phone in public
also reasons but less big deal:
typing on flipphone is fun (hehe click clack go click clack)
taking a little longer to type out messages gives me time to slow down and think abt what I'm about to send (helpful during BPD epsiodes)
very straightforward layout makes it just a little easier to call someone while in distress
....ok so.....when I go over these it turns out only 3 in the first category are rly very imprtant reasons for me, in the second category 2. That still makes it hard to decide tho :S
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey girl!
Any advice for future homeowners?
Hey!!!
Sure thing: make sure you check the roof, the HVAC unit, and the kitchen appliances. Make sure you get an inspection and do not wave it because me and my fiancé did that and we’ve had a few things we had to do (new roof, new HVAC, soon a new oven, a possible leakage issue from a crack outside on the wall, old ass windows replaced) check it all! Make sure you’re aware of any damages, I would suggest you get a home where the kitchen and bathrooms are in great condition as well. You also want to be careful with floors too especially if it’s an older home.
Get the best realtor! Don’t settle for a “family member” or “family friend” because that’s not always the smart thing to do especially if it’s a “side hustle.” No, get a realtor that does it full time lol. Our realtor was a cousin of mine and she did it on the side and hadn’t done it in a while!
Save save save! Save your money! Don’t go into buying a home and not have a fund to fall back on for anything dealing with your home because seriously it Will benefit you! Home owning is an unexpected process. If buying a townhome, make sure you know everything about the HOA. Check out the areas you’re interested in (schools, is it a convenient commute to and from work, etc)
Have a list of people (plumber, electrician, handy man, etc) and there are apps or sites you can go on to find great local people. Also, never settle on your first option with anything. That goes for a home, if you’re shopping around for a new roofing company or HVAC company or even someone to do your floors. Everyone’s pricing is different and you don’t want to be screwed over because they will try to!
READ CONTRACTS!
Read it all! From whatever you have to sign when putting in an offer on a home, down to making a purchase for something to fix in your home. My fiancé made the mistake of signing a contract from Ashley Furniture for our sectional in our basement without reading it and the movers put a hole in our wall trying to get it down the steps and because he didn’t read it, they weren’t held accountable. I had to pay damn near $400 for the patch up and they didn’t even sand it down or paint over it! My fiancé ended up doing that.
Learn how to fix things in your home and also put stuff together. My fiancé has become very handy and he’s fixed a few things and mounted things on the wall and he plans to do more. Anything to help save more money. Make sure you also have an up to date alarm system as well!
There are a lot more things like a really good lender and a sellers disclosure (which I briefly talked about above)
Overall, please do your research and also it’s good to ask for advice from people in your life that own homes, but go with what your gut tells you. This is a huge purchase so you don’t want to regret anything because you can’t afford your mortgage and keeping up with your home. Me and my fiancé went into this confused and my fiancé did a lot of research and there were things we regret and wish we’d known. That’s why it’s always good to have a professional, full time realtor and you want them to be a hard ass because this is HUGE.
I hope I gave you some good advice lol my fiancé was the main person in this whole thing and I’ve watched and learned. Just please gain as much knowledge as you can in this and I hope you have some luck! When we were shopping it was a sellers market and they were listing homes At RIDICULOUS prices, more than what the homes are actually worth! And don’t get discouraged if you’re offer wasn’t accepted. This takes time and trust it will pay off ❤️
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Good Day
Content warning: PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorder
I woke the body up before the wretched sound of the alarm could signal the new day. I turned the alarm off preemptively and sluggishly sat up. The body’s heart was beating too slowly for being awake. I looked around the unfamiliar room. It was a mess. Worse than most I’d seen. There were a dozen empty soda cans by the bed, at least five plates beneath them, and clothes strewn about the floor. Books rested open on the ground next to a guitar with rusted strings. One of them was waving wildly around as the fan overhead moved the air just enough to circulate the awful stench coming from the place. There were several candles hiding beneath the junk on the desk, but it looked like each had only been lit once before being buried. The carpet was matted and, if I looked too close, fuzzy and green.
There was no food in the fridge. There were post-it notes on the fridge. “Remember.” On top of that, “Remember.” On top of that, “REMEMBER.” On top of that, “forget it.” I was thirsty. I grabbed the black water bottle by their bed. Their water tasted funny. I thought to pour myself a new bottle. I emptied the old water into the sink and a glob of slimy mold fell onto the drain. It stared at me as if I had offended it by evicting it from its home. I vomited on top of it. Collecting myself, I cleaned up the mess and poured water into a cracked glass. It got their hands wet as I drank, and they shook with effort as I held it to my lips.
The bathroom mirror was covered in dust and marker. “I am beautiful,” written over and over in worse and worse handwriting until it began to look more like a prayer than a statement. In that mirror, I could just make out a frail corpse of a person, with eyes like pits and teeth like lemons. I smiled. It was horrifying. I felt sorry for them. No one deserved this.
Cleaning the mirror was easy. Their eyes were bloodshot by the time I finished. I was tired. Exhausted. I hadn’t done anything yet, today. But I could barely move. My stomach roared. I was hungry. But there was no food in the house. So I ordered food from an app on their phone. “That’ll teach them to call a suffering man names,” I thought. And when the food arrived, I tore through it like I’d never eaten before in my life. Still I was hungry. And thirsty. So I drank from the cracked glass and decided to wait just a little before having more to eat.
I took a trash bag into the room and filled it. Then another. Then another. At least five trash bags and at least a dozen passes with the broom. This body had more friends than I thought, counting all the critters I found hiding. Some of them were dead. I could relate to their problem.
Still the room was dirty. I recycled all of the cans. Originally, I stomped on each one to make them smaller. I was wheezing by the third stomp. I placed the rest gently in the bin. I took the plates into the kitchen. There were no crumbs on any of them, but there was a mouse hole below the nightstand. I wondered if the body used to have food in the fridge, or if they put the food they ordered on a plate.
Some of the laundry went into the trash. Some pants had mold and some shirts had holes gnawed into them. I wondered if fabric tasted good. The rest of the laundry went into the machine. It was loud, so loud that I felt the body start crying and couldn’t stop it until I plugged its ears. I rushed out of the room like there was a demon in it. A moment ago, there was.
I ordered groceries to put in the fridge, and while it was on the way I cleaned the water bottle. I wasn’t sure I would ever feel comfortable drinking out of it, but the good news was I didn’t have to be. The body did. And I got the sense it would. The fridge had to be wiped down first, but that only dampened the odor coming from it. It was as clean as it was going to get. I put the groceries away. It was mostly easy things. Chicken nuggets, tuna, sandwich meat, sliced cheese. With how much the body was trembling with effort, I doubted it would want to make food. At least, this way, it was easier.
I didn’t know how to restring a guitar. I doubted they had a spare set of strings. So I put the weathered instrument nicely on its stand and hoped that, someday, the body would learn how to fix it. I was sure it sounded beautiful. I remembered how to play it, but didn’t know if I was any good. It had been so long since I tried.
I turned on the bathroom faucet and put my hand under the water till it was a nice temperature. I turned on the showerhead and listened to the water fall like rain. I saw the body in the clean mirror. I hated it. I hated the bones I could see protruding from the skin. I hated the grime I could see built up beneath its arms. I hated the ball of lint I could see in its belly button. I grabbed the body’s tangled hair in distress. I felt it taking hold, wrestling control. It did not want to go in the water. There was something bad about the water. Something bad had happened in the water. Something bad had happened in the body. It needed to run. I needed to run.
Outside the bathroom door, I could still hear the water fall like rain. Through the door, it was peaceful. I’d always liked storms. I knew the body needed to be clean. Maybe, if I thought of the rain and did not look at the mirror, the body would be okay. I closed their eyes and opened the door. I felt the humidity on their cracked skin, and the tile froze their feet with every step. I felt for the wall and found it, felt for the curtain and found it, felt for the water and touched it, and stepped inside. The body loved the rain. The curtain blocked the mirror from view. I opened their eyes.
When I scrubbed shampoo into their hair my hands came away covered in soaking strands. I put it in a pile in the corner so it wouldn’t clog the drain. When I combed conditioner through the ends I came away with just as much. I added it to the pile. A lizard peeked out of the drain at me as if offended I had disturbed its home. It scampered up the wall and watched me as I cleaned the body. It took three washes of soap.
I should have checked the towel on the rack before stepping in the rain, but it slipped my mind. It, of course, was nearly disintegrating with how long it had sat there in damp conditions without being cleaned. Instead, I wrung the water off the body myself and stood humming in the empty shower for five or ten minutes until the body dried a bit. They had a nice voice. I could feel the echo of the music in their chest and it made me feel good.
I put on clothes that smelled less bad than the others and ordered myself another meal. This time, I ordered water as well, so I could drink it out of a styrofoam cup instead of a cracked glass. I devoured the food and the body’s hands shook a bit less. I ate over a plate, so I wouldn’t get crumbs on the floor. I left it on the table when I was done.
I don’t think the bedsheets had ever been washed. I couldn’t bring myself to wash them, though. To wash them meant to go back into the same room as the machine. But I had to put the clothes in the dryer. And there were more clothes to clean. The bedsheets just wouldn’t get washed. If I was still here tomorrow, maybe I would get to it then. For now, I could make the bed. Currently, it was a bundle of blankets in a small corner of a large mattress. There were a dozen stuffed animals on the bed and at least five mechanical pencils that were loose between the blankets. I brushed the crumbs off the fitted sheet and laid the blankets nicely on top. The body wanted to lay down. I knew that if the body laid down, I would have to leave. Who knew when I’d be back? It wasn’t time to go just yet.
I took their phone and opened up messages. They hadn’t texted their mom in a while. Or their dad. Or their siblings. Their family hadn’t texted them, either. Their friends had, though. “Are you doing alright?” “Do you want to come to the party on Saturday?” “I heard about what happened.” “How’s it hanging, man?” “We missed you at the party on Saturday.” “Let me know if there’s anything you need.” I messaged back, “I’m doing alright, thanks.” “Sorry I missed the party.” “I’m doing alright, now.” “Everything’s good with me, how about you?” “Sorry I missed the party.” “I’m doing fine, thanks.”
They got a couple of responses, but I was too nervous to read them. At least their friends knew they still cared. I set their alarm for the next day. It was still early evening, but if I didn’t do it now, I’d forget later.
I ordered food one more time. I didn’t want to waste the food in the fridge. I ate it more slowly this time, and the last bite stared at me for thirty minutes before I got the body to choke it down. I didn’t have the energy to put this plate away, either. Eating three meals in a day might have been too much. Surely the body wouldn’t appreciate the extra weight.
I put a new load of laundry in the machine. This time, I plugged the body’s ears before I pressed the start button and ran out of the room. That was a little bit better. I changed into a pair of dry pajamas that had a softness unlike anything I’d felt in this decaying house. There was one spot, though, that was prickly, a sticky substance that wouldn’t come out all the way still stuck in the plaid of the pants. I lit a couple of the candles on the desk, and the fan began to blow cinnamon and spring into the room. I looked around the room, satisfied with my work. I finished up the laundry, putting it in a pile on the newly vacuumed carpet. I would have folded the clothes, but I could barely keep their eyes open. I put out the candles and crawled into bed. I felt intense relief, as if the body had run a marathon and then done a thousand squats.
I woke up the next morning feeling like I had decorated my coffin. There was no energy. There was no brightness. There was no drive. There was no body. There was only a prison. There was only the water. There was only the monster. I was hungry. There was no food in the house.
Wait.
I bought things to eat.
…I would have to leave my bed to get to them.
I was so tired.
There was no food in the house.
#short story#writing#writer#writing prompts#story#a good day#ptsd#depression#anxiety#eating disorder
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
THAT ONE IS EASY: DON'T HIRE TOO FAST
If someone had launched a new, spam-free mail service, users would have flocked to it. For example, reading and experience are usually compiled at the time—didn't sell out. If startups end up being a philosophy major for most of college. I will now, by an amazing feat of clairvoyance, do this for you: the probability is zero. In young hackers, optimism predominates. Hackers would think a lot of time talking about how words worked. Maybe the situation is similar with malaria. But I think I see now what went wrong with philosophy, and how we might fix it. 9027. This focus on the user is a kind of password for sending mail to me. 07347802 sorry 0.
Sometimes you hear people saying All these guys starting startups now are going to be replaced by apps running on tablets. Once the libraries get too big, they become overwhelmed. Imagine if you were relying on formulas you didn't understand. They do a really good programming language: very powerful abstractions. Surely that field, at least subconsciously, based on the total number of characters he'll have to type. Maybe the alarm bells it sets off will counteract the forces that push you to overhire. They know their audience. Thought you should check out the following: http://www. Bookstores are one of the main forces driving the spread of startup culture will thus be driven by the random factors that have driven it so far, startups that turn down acquisition offers usually end up doing better.
But the cost of a long name is not just the cost of the space it takes up on your screen. 12454646 investment 0. There are examples of this algorithm being applied to actual emails in an appendix at the end. It works, but you weren't held to it; you could work out all the details, and even they are more conservative in reality than you'd guess from reading their sites. It is so much work to be done. In 1995 it was hard to take search seriously. That's why you can't just take a vote. Inventors of wonderful new things are often surprised to find that Americans like to begin a program with a bunch of hackers. The first is that startups may represent a new economic phase, on the scale of the Industrial Revolution.
Next I create a third hash table, this time mapping each token to the probability that the mail is spam. What people outside the software world, this idea is known as Worse is Better is found throughout the arts. Having users is like optimization: the wise course is to delay it. They will use whatever language does the job. What's different about religion is that people don't feel they need to hire in order to grow. Less laborious, certainly, that most people don't choose programming languages simply based on their merits, and so on. He said he didn't think so, because the light is better there. If you're among that number, Trevor Blackwell has made a handy calculator you can use to find things online.
#automatically generated text#Markov chains#Paul Graham#Python#Patrick Mooney#user#users#hackers#college#end#merits#software#kind#language#probability#scale#lot
1 note
·
View note
Text
What the fuck happened yesterday?!?
I did yoga in the afternoon and I found myself so imbalanced and somehow that made me furious.
Around 4, I visited my mum's house where I met that bitch who killed Pumbaa and it made me quite angry.
After that I found myself leaving something that I was supposed to give to my neighbour. So I had to go back to my house first to get the thing, and apparently I think he saw me at my mum's and texted if he should take it or I should bring it to him. I told him the condition and told him that I would just give it to him later.
When I got back home, I found 2 packages from my online shopping. I don't really like packages because sometimes they're packed in a nonsense way and use lots of plastic. The first package was fine (tho not really) but the second one isn't. I kinda left a cut on the order and apparently the thing I received was not the one I ordered. It got me really angry because I ordered dog food for my foster dog who's coming tomorrow. So I had to do the returning thingy and the app wasn't the best for it, or maybe it's just my phone. In the middle of me doing it, my partner came home and ofc he was being nice, greeting me and everything, but my response was so bitter because I had to deal with it. I told him not to talk to me yet.
Then I left to watch an animation film at IFI. I was about to go to a pet shop nearby but it was closed at 8, when the film was still running. The film started at 7, so I took the med earlier than usual (usually I took at 8). I got quite sleepy during the film but I managed to finish it (the story was great!!!). I decided to find a pet shop that was open quite late and found one around Bausasran. I went there but their stock was so low so I ended up not buying anything. I saw another pet shop opened around Bugisan, so I went there immediately because they're about to closed. When I got there, I didn't find what I was looking for but I found one that might suit for the dog. So I bought it and paid with my phone. And because of that, I could see the messages people left.
A friend asked us to go to Subs and everyone agreed. I went there right after that but I ended up working on the zine first. When people arrived, somehow we sat in different tables, including the friend who invited us to go there. Some people were not feeling great because of it.
I had also been texting to another friend who suddenly asked me about my mental health. I told him that it was okay the days before but just today things got so messed up. We'd been exchanging messages when suddenly my anxiety was getting worse. I even had to go to the toilet to cry.
I was mostly questioning why I was like that because I didn't know what triggered me. I was so confused on why I had to cry and ran out of breath. I couldn't be there too long so I wiped my tear and went out to tell the others I had to go back. I didn't tell them the reasons.
I was very unstable during the ride. I cried and I punched my thighs and chest. When I got home, I found myself imbalanced to walk, so I decided to run to the toilet because I needed to pee but that's when things got really worse. I couldn't breath, I couldn't move and I didn't know how long it lasted.
My partner suddenly arrived and tried to comfort me. After that I started to breathe better but then I found out that my knees were so weak. I tried to stand up but I couldn't, so I had to sit on the floor for few minutes. Good thing our house isn't that big so the distance from the toilet to our room isn't far. I tried to walk but it was very difficult. I fell to the bed before I could even reach it.
Oh, but before that, I tried to swab my old meds with the hope that I would be more stable.
I ended up sleeping okay, but I didn't know what time I slept. Definitely after 1:30 because that's when the lamp was off.
Today I woke up quite early. It's currently 7:35. However, when the first alarm was on, I tried to lift my right arm to turn it off but I couldn't because it was so weak.
I plan to take the other med today just so I could function better and not be a burden to people around me.
0 notes
Text
BABYDOLL EP. 9
May 3, 2022
The sound of a loud alarm filled the room. I stretched in the big bed and put my face back on the pillow. I had a hangover headache. I barely got out of bed and pushed the duvet off me. I walked into the bathroom, opened the shower door and turned the water to hot. I rinsed the coconut shampoo through my hair and sprayed the shower gel into the loofah. After I got out of the shower, I wrapped myself in my bathrobe and started combing my wet hair. With the familiar tune coming from the living room, I put the comb on the counter and came out of the bathroom to find out who was calling. Laura's name appeared on the screen. After putting the phone on speakerphone, I continued combing my hair.
"Good morning, my queen. Open the door because I'm in front of the room." I hung up the phone and ran to the door. She was indeed waiting at the door. She entered the room without waiting.
"Good morning to you too, sunshine. I was just getting ready for the breakfast we're going to today." She took off her sunglasses and put them on the bed.
"Don't have a hangover, huh?" She was hungover herself, but she didn't look it.
"Very badly." She was wearing a fuchsia suit, she curled her brown hair.
"Are your clothes ready? Yesterday I fell asleep as soon as I entered the room. I didn't have anything ready. When I woke up in the morning, my sister had my clothes ready. How did you get here? I don't remember anything from last night." I went to the closet and took the aqua green dress I told the girls about yesterday off the hanger.
"Yesterday, after we left the bar, Carlos drove us to the hotel. I fell asleep in the car. So he took me up to my room and took care of me until I fell asleep. So he helped me take off my makeup and stuff. Anyway, let me put it on and we'll go, okay?" She chuckled and nodded. I could tell she was thinking about something.
She said, "Did Carlos drop us off?" She sighed and pursed her lips. "Carlos, as in Charles's teammate? This guy's got a crush on you, girl." She said. I giggled and told her it was nothing like that. Then we started talking about Charles again.
"I think Charles still loves you. But what's ridiculous is that he loves you and he still hasn't broken up with that girl. I mean, he loves you, but he's got a girlfriend. He's in love with you when he has a girlfriend. Or he could easily date another girl when he's had a crush on you since he was a kid." For the first time, I hated that she was right.
"He has a lover, Laura. It's wrong and a waste of time to think about it. He's not in love with me. Charles doesn't exist anymore, so from now on we forget about him, okay?"
"Okay, you're right. But I can't stop thinking about it, so let's drop it." I didn't answer and I kept this conversation in my mind to think about it later.
"I want to curl my hair." Laura came over and sat me down on the couch and plugged the tongs into the socket. It was weird that he was talented at everything. I think the only thing I was talented at was car racing. After my hair was done, I put on some light makeup and we left the room. We got into the elevator, I checked my phone for messages from the group we'd formed at the bar yesterday and entered the address where we were having breakfast into the maps app. We left the lobby and started walking to the parking garage.
"Oh, God, I forgot I left my car at the bar yesterday."
"Okay, let's call a taxi here then." I took my phone out of my bag and tried to find a taxi number in the search engine. That's when I got a text message.
"Your car is in the parking lot. The valet dropped me off this morning. You're welcome." It wasn't a registered number.
"Who is this?" There was no delay in answering. I think he was mad because I didn't recognize him.
"Hey, how could you not recognize me? Okay, I'll give you a hint. The Spanish king." I thought for a while and kept writing.
"Carlos?"
"Yeah, of course it's me. Who else would it be?"
"It's not every day that I get a guess-who-I-am text message. "How did you get my number?" I walked to the car and opened the door. The car key was in the ignition.
"Thank you for bringing my car. I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome, but I think you should show your gratitude in another way. How about a dinner?" I covered the phone with my hand and moved it away from my ear and whispered to Laura.
"Dinner, Laura, what should I say?" Laura clapped her hands and said that this offer was my chance.
"Okay, I'll let you pick the time and place for dinner, okay?"
"Perfect, then I'll text you." I hung up the phone, put it in my bag, started the car and left the yard.
"I think Carlos is very sweet. What do you say?" Laura rolled down her window and turned to me.
"If you mean Carlos, yes, he's sweet. I haven't made up my mind about him. I just, I don't know, he was so interested in helping me yesterday."
"I think you'd make a good couple. This is your chance to get over Charles. "All you have to do is decide if you want to take this chance." After checking how far we had to go on the GPS, I tried to find a nice song on the radio. We parked in front of the place where we were going to have breakfast and got out of the car. After putting the key in my bag, we entered the big restaurant. It was on two floors, mostly white and beige colors. Lily waved at us to indicate where she was sitting. Laura and I sat down at the table by the window.
"Good morning, beauties, did you sleep well?" Lu's face was all smiles.
"Did you sleep well? Roses are blooming on your face." Jesus looked at me and took out his cell phone. There were only four of us at the table, waiting for Kika and Carmen.
"Okay, Lu had a lot of fun last night and you can all understand why. But you Annabelle, what were you doing in Carlos' car yesterday?" Laura immediately grabbed her phone.
"What? Can you repeat what you said again?"
"Didn't you see the news? Yesterday they caught you getting in the car with Carlos. There are pictures of you all over the media." Laura pulled me away and showed me the photos.
"This can't be happening. How did they get those pictures?" I put the phone down on the table in a rage.
"Hey, calm down. Carlos made a statement this morning. He just said he dropped his friend off at his hotel when he left the bar. He already took care of it. Well, good for him. He didn't come out like Charles." There was a big scream from the table and people at the other table started looking at us like we were crazy. I pinched Laura's arm under the covers.
"Charles?" Carmen pulled up the brown chair and sat down. Kika was not interested in the story I was about to tell because she knew. When I took a deep breath and started to tell what had happened last month, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. The more I shared these feelings, the more relieved I felt and the less pessimistic I felt. The comments on Charles were harsh, but he deserved them. After we ordered breakfast, the conversation got lively.
"I guess we can say we're best friends now, right?"
"We can definitely say that." After the food, we ordered coffee, drank our coffees, paid the bill and got up.
"Did you come here by car?" We went out into the garden, I took the car key out of my bag and turned to the girls.
"Laura and I took a taxi." Lu put her bag on her arm.
"Okay, let the carless ones be known and I'll give you a ride." Lily immediately kissed me on the cheek and told me what a waste of time I had saved them. Kika and Carmen had driven, so they got in Kika's car and Laura got in the front seat. After finding a good song, I got into position to go to the track.
"Do you want me to beat Charles when I get to the paddock? If you want, I can bump Charles and Alexandra's heads." Lu had a great idea and I really wanted to approve it, but Alexandra was not to blame. What she was doing was just falling in love. And I couldn't keep them apart, they'd been lovers for almost nine years. If you don't mind them breaking up and making up.
"No, let's not be so cruel. Let's just beat up Charles, what do you say Bella?"
"We might not beat up Charles, it'll only take me one phone call to find someone to beat him up."
"Don't be ridiculous. No one's going to beat anyone up, we're close, this is just between us. No one will give anything away. Especially you Lu, I don't want you in the garage looking at Charles with disgust, he made his choice and he's happy with it, I need to forget the past and move on." With approving murmurs we entered the road surrounded by fans, waving hats, t-shirts and photos for me to sign and shouting behind the iron barricades. We got out of the car, the girls were right behind me waiting for me to finish. A little girl handed me her pencil and a hat with Alpa Tauri written on it from behind the iron. He stood on tiptoe and held up the hat because he was not tall enough.
"What's your name?" She was wearing a pink dress. It stood out immediately.
"June. Can you sign my hat?" She bowed her head shyly. I took the pen and the hat from her and signed it.
"Would you like to have your picture taken?" The girl's face immediately lit up and she smiled. She looked at her mother and asked if she could take our picture. I reached over the barricade and picked her up, her wavy blond hair falling over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled up and tied in a pink bow. After her mother took our photo, I took her off my lap.
"You know you are an angel!" She smiled, her smile warmed me.
"Thank you, honey, you're an angel, and the sweetest one." I waved and went into the paddock. After saying goodbye to Kelly and Lu, we passed other garages on our way to the Alpha Tauri garage. As we crossed the road, we met Lando and greeted him.
"Lando Norris! Good luck on the track, baby!"
"You too, beautiful! I'm expecting a top three from you, what do you think?"
"I don't know, maybe I'll see you in the top three." I waved to him and went into the garage. After greeting a few mechanics, I went into the locker room and took off my dress. I put on black leggings and a white bodysuit from the closet. Over them I put on a white jumpsuit with Alpha Tauri written on the chest. I tied the sleeves of the jumpsuit around my waist.
"Are you ready to work out?" Clinton was my trainer. I nodded and walked out of the locker room. After taking a little reflex test, I went to get a ball to play soccer. Clinton kicked the soccer ball and yelled for me to pass it. The ball hit my foot and went to the back.
"I'll take it!" The ball had gone between the generators.
"No need, I found the ball." Daniel came out from behind the generator with the soccer ball I was looking for.
"Wow, honey badger, do you always come out of nowhere like this or is it just now?" He rolled his eyes and handed me the ball. That's what everyone called him. Especially Lando.
"Come on, where did you get that nickname? I'm sure Lando told you, right?" I shrugged and started spinning the ball in my hand.
"Let's just say I have secret sources."
"Secret source, huh? I don't know if I should be scared of you or think that's super cool. Which one do you think Annabelle is?" He was flirting with me and didn't feel the need to hide it. Run, my guy, maybe one day you'll get it.
"I know I'm super cool, and I'm definitely satisfied to hear it from you." I smiled and winked at Daniel, spinning the ball between my hands as I walked over to Clinton.
0 notes
Text
Dream 102
CASE 10024 DECLASSIFIED
May 10th, 2022 Subject: Dream 102 To: ████████████████████
-----
████,
Thanks for your inquiry. i gladly want to forward to you the declass version of his dream report:
[REPORT START]
"It was a sunny day in June and i neither watched a movie or anything spectacular. I decided to just lie down for a little, the sun was bright outside and my orange curtain was closed. In this dream i remember being in the same bed where i was sleeping in, and in front of my window on the outside there was something lurking that i would describe as a panther, definitely a black and four-legged creature by the feel of it. While i heard a clear alarm signal on repeat, it tried to slowly get through my window, while i was somewhat pushing it back. Then i remember holding a phone that resembled mine, but the apps were quirkily arranged and i could not call a certain person - not for help, but to basically report.
Next thing i saw, i was in some kind of smaller bus that was full of people on their seats, i was more in the back. As we drove to a destination, we went down a wide water slide with the environment resembling something like Venice in Italy. At arrival, i / we stepped out the bus and before me, approximately 10 meters, there were a lot of younger man with brown skin tones and very realistic clothing ravaging in groups from left to right. It seemed like the rest of the city was abandoned or society wasn't working. There was something like a unarmed group war going on, with the dynamics of being about 3-10 people per group - i would say black, latinos, running from left to right and vice versa as if there was some kind of chase going on. I did not necessarily feel fear but a legitimate confusion, since it was quite hyper-realistic. I'm saying "hyper-realistic" because the physics and details were on point much more than in the typical dreams i have.
I only remember being alone or an outsider since i did not have a group. Overall i felt like the bus dropped us off at a total dystopia. As i tried to proceed going somewhere without knowing where, i was followed by two guys, maybe in their 20's or 30's, with one having a black shirt and the other, i think, a black shirt with orange sleeves, which was also astoundingly detailed. He also had a beard. As i noticed them following me, i got concerned and tried to switch to the other side of the street and still found them behind me. This went on for a little until i turned around, surrendering. I tossed one of the guys 1 of 2 pencils i had. The guy first did not catch it and the pencil fell to the floor, and he picked it up. Then i went like "Okay, you got what you want now, okay? Peace". After i turned around anxiously, i heard behind my back: "Don't use the word peace around here".
Last thing i remember was walking to some kind of 40m² patch of grass surrounded by some obects and one of those electric transformator boxes on the right, i think. Then i noticed there was a tiger-shaped creature in rainbow colors floating in the air, changing its texture as if it was morphing. As i got closer, i felt increasingly more heat on my body and head to the point of it becoming unbearable. In fact, it became so unbearable, that i had the gut feeling of being in some kind of hell. I close my eyes and sort of squeezed myself to 'get out of this' or wake up. I, in fact, woke up lying in my good old bed and just being thankful being in good old reality again."
I did not feel majorly bad before it happened and also smoked a little weed. Usually my dreams are quite suppressed when i smoke weed and they never went into a truly negative direction. Another component i find fascinating that the whole nap lasted around 30 minutes, or 1 hours, or 2 hours if i remember correctly, and it was a really bright day without much 'bad air' in the atmosphere or something. I tend to tell myself that it was a vision of the coming dystopia, because the dudes ravaging in the dream seemed too real, the shirts they wore, their skin colors, the whole madness in the air"
[REPORT END]
Frank Sinclair Spiritual Office, 5SD
0 notes
Text
The Reluctant Traveler
Check out my new blog post on my Wordpress!
I am on a trip. I am on a trip to see people who I want to see but who unfortunately live far away from me. We must suffer for what (and who) we love, which means that I am on a multi-state travel adventure that began yesterday. And I am not going to be grouchy about the travel.
I woke up at 8am yesterday, which to a normal person seems like a lovely time at which to wake, but if you’re funemployed and your sleep schedule is borked, it is a #struggle. I awoke at that time so I could take public transit to the airport, but when my alarm went off I pulled up the app on my phone and adjusted it to wake me up half an hour later, figuring I’d Lyft it to O’Hare.
No, get up and take the train, you big baby.
So I took the train. It took about 45 minutes longer than it was supposed to, which was fine, as my flight was delayed.
As I was going through the airport to find my gate, I spotted the Garrett Popcorn stand, and I said to myself, No, Sawyer, you will be spending too much money on this trip as it is, and I made it about ten feet past the kiosk before looping around to get some goddamned popcorn.
Okay, tangent: the first time I tried Garrett Popcorn was on a trip to Boston in preparation for my top surgery. When I tore into the caramel pecan deliciousness within the bag, I suddenly could not stop eating the best popcorn I’d ever eaten. There was so much of it and it was so good, I wanted to tell everyone. I offered some to the people around me in the airport, and when I arrived, all of the friends I saw. I had to spread the word: holy shit this popcorn. Can you believe?
I again got my beloved popcorn and had an uneventful flight to NYC. Navigating the MTA to get to my hotel was similarly uneventful, unless you count me huffing and puffing to carry my enormous suitcase up a thousand stairs. (New York: why so many stairs? Do you like punishing people with large bags?) Finally I arrived to my hotel in Chinatown.
Let me tell you about the hotel. The things the hotel room does not have: a mini-fridge, a hair dryer, a coffee maker, comforters on the beds, a second nightstand by the other bed for my sister who’s traveling from Massachusetts. (I took the bed with the nightstand. Elder sibling’s prerogative.) One thing the hotel does have, though, is a sign on the inside of the hotel room door explaining that the hotel is not liable for any stolen objects and we are welcome to purchase padlocks at the front desk for $5.
This hotel is a budget hotel. I would say budget-friendly but considering that I paid $500 plus a $100 security deposit for one of the cheapest hotels I could find, I’d say that almost every hotel is fairly budget-hostile. But, if I may address the hotel: Hotel, if you think someone is going to steal my stuff, the padlocks should be complimentary.
Before meeting up with my Brooklyn-dwelling sister and her boyfriend to see an improv comedy show, I needed to obtain dinner. I also informed my sister, via text, that my hair was going to be a mess and everyone would just have to deal with that, to which she replied, I cannot understate my level of concern!
So dinner. I figure, I’m in Chinatown, I should get some Chinese food. I found a place nearby with promising pictures of food in the windows and headed inside, where I found out no one spoke more than a few words of English. We managed to communicate enough to get across that I was there for dinner, and that I would like some duck. I figured, I have eaten duck before, I have had duck at Chinese restaurants before, I know I will enjoy duck.
I did not enjoy this duck.
Feeling shamefully white, I ate a few bites of the astonishingly red vegetables and duck parts (I’m not sure which parts they were; everything was just shapes in red sauce. There was bone involved, though), then paid and left, leaving a good tip. From there, I went to a diner near the improv show’s venue and ordered a basic bitch turkey club with french fries.
You don’t have to say anything, I’m already embarrassed, okay?
Tonight I will see my sister perform as Inga in Young Frankenstein, though, and for that alone it was worth the 7 1/2-hour journey from my front door to the hotel! See you next week, when I will still not be at home and may have more travel adventures to recount!
This post is not sponsored by Garrett Popcorn. But you should have some anyway, it’s really good, and you have to believe me because no one is paying me to say it.
0 notes
Text
The Reluctant Traveler
Here's a post from my personal blog.
I am on a trip. I am on a trip to see people who I want to see but who unfortunately live far away from me. We must suffer for what (and who) we love, which means that I am on a multi-state travel adventure that began yesterday. And I am not going to be grouchy about the travel.
I woke up at 8am yesterday, which to a normal person seems like a lovely time at which to wake, but if you’re funemployed and your sleep schedule is borked, it is a #struggle. I awoke at that time so I could take public transit to the airport, but when my alarm went off I pulled up the app on my phone and adjusted it to wake me up half an hour later, figuring I’d Lyft it to O’Hare.
No, get up and take the train, you big baby.
So I took the train. It took about 45 minutes longer than it was supposed to, which was fine, as my flight was delayed.
As I was going through the airport to find my gate, I spotted the Garrett Popcorn stand, and I said to myself, No, Sawyer, you will be spending too much money on this trip as it is, and I made it about ten feet past the kiosk before looping around to get some goddamned popcorn.
Okay, tangent: the first time I tried Garrett Popcorn was on a trip to Boston in preparation for my top surgery. When I tore into the caramel pecan deliciousness within the bag, I suddenly could not stop eating the best popcorn I’d ever eaten. There was so much of it and it was so good, I wanted to tell everyone. I offered some to the people around me in the airport, and when I arrived, all of the friends I saw. I had to spread the word: holy shit this popcorn. Can you believe?
I again got my beloved popcorn and had an uneventful flight to NYC. Navigating the MTA to get to my hotel was similarly uneventful, unless you count me huffing and puffing to carry my enormous suitcase up a thousand stairs. (New York: why so many stairs? Do you like punishing people with large bags?) Finally I arrived to my hotel in Chinatown.
Let me tell you about the hotel. The things the hotel room does not have: a mini-fridge, a hair dryer, a coffee maker, comforters on the beds, a second nightstand by the other bed for my sister who’s traveling from Massachusetts. (I took the bed with the nightstand. Elder sibling’s prerogative.) One thing the hotel does have, though, is a sign on the inside of the hotel room door explaining that the hotel is not liable for any stolen objects and we are welcome to purchase padlocks at the front desk for $5.
This hotel is a budget hotel. I would say budget-friendly but considering that I paid $500 plus a $100 security deposit for one of the cheapest hotels I could find, I’d say that almost every hotel is fairly budget-hostile. But, if I may address the hotel: Hotel, if you think someone is going to steal my stuff, the padlocks should be complimentary.
Before meeting up with my Brooklyn-dwelling sister and her boyfriend to see an improv comedy show, I needed to obtain dinner. I also informed my sister, via text, that my hair was going to be a mess and everyone would just have to deal with that, to which she replied, I cannot understate my level of concern!
So dinner. I figure, I’m in Chinatown, I should get some Chinese food. I found a place nearby with promising pictures of food in the windows and headed inside, where I found out no one spoke more than a few words of English. We managed to communicate enough to get across that I was there for dinner, and that I would like some duck. I figured, I have eaten duck before, I have had duck at Chinese restaurants before, I know I will enjoy duck.
I did not enjoy this duck.
Feeling shamefully white, I ate a few bites of the astonishingly red vegetables and duck parts (I’m not sure which parts they were; everything was just shapes in red sauce. There was bone involved, though), then paid and left, leaving a good tip. From there, I went to a diner near the improv show’s venue and ordered a basic bitch turkey club with french fries.
You don’t have to say anything, I’m already embarrassed, okay?
Tonight I will see my sister perform as Inga in Young Frankenstein, though, and for that alone it was worth the 7 1/2-hour journey from my front door to the hotel! See you next week, when I will still not be at home and may have more travel adventures to recount!
This post is not sponsored by Garrett Popcorn. But you should have some anyway, it’s really good, and you have to believe me because no one is paying me to say it.
1 note
·
View note