#they truly were game changers

[youngpettyqueen]

I got my hands on a proper pair of compression gloves and these things are a GAME CHANGER for crochet holy shit

[niuxita21]

My life will never be the same again hbu

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

Shout-out to the real hero of the latest Game Changer EP- the courageous PA. I was over in my living room sweating while she followed through on her orders stone-faced and unflappable. Truly the greatest warrior of our age. Remember her. Remember her name. Kaylin Mahoney you were incredible.

[hungee-boy]

I dont get annoyed i get homicidal 😳

[kedsandtubesocks]

game changer

MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.

Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.

It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.

Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.

Now you’re here.

“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.

The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.

The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.

Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.

You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.

“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.

“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.

Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.

You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.

You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.

Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.

Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.

“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.

The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.

You understand why.

A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.

Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.

He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.

It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.

And he really is incredible.

Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.

Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.

He’s gorgeous.

But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.

So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.

At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.

After that the Rangers switch pitchers.

As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.

It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.

Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.

Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.

You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.

The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.

“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.

You shrug easily with an eased grin.

After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.

You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.

Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.

You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.

Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.

No way.

Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.

He’s knockout beautiful.

Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.

He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.

“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.

“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.

But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.

“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.

Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.

Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.

You’re the one early thanking him.

“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.

“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.

Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”

“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.

Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.

“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.

For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…

Just your dad’s pal.

The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.

You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.

Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.

Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.

“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.

“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.

“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.

However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.

“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.

From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.

“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.

“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.

“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.

But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.

Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.

“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.

With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.

Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.

“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.

You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.

With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.

Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.

Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.

You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.

This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.

The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.

Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.

Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.

Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.

You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.

Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.

There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.

The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.

Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.

So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.

There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.

His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.

But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.

“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”

Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.

“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.

Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.

“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.

You grin triumphantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.

“Sound sure about that.” He replies.

“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”

Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.

“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.

“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.

His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.

Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.

“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.

“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.

He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.

“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.

So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.

Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.

He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.

The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.

Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.

Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.

Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.

The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.

Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.

The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.

“You should get one!” Your mom urges.

Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.

On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.

Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”

You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.

When you get home, you see the message has been read.

But also, a new profile has followed you.

JM_8712

The profile also sent you a message.

JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider

No way.

This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.

JM_8712: think ur so funny huh

The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.

Then another message flies in.

JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?

It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.

Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.

Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.

Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.

The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.

Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.

You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.

For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.

One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.

“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.

You just hope Joel is alright.

Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.

Joel.

JM_8712: sorry connections shit

Then he simply sends you his phone number.

You wonder if you’re seeing things.

Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.

When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.

Yeah im good thanks

Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.

Looks like room service for tonight

It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.

It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.

Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.

You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.

The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.

The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.

You think at first it must be one of your parents.

But instead it’s Joel.

You scramble to answer.

“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.

“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.

That catches you off guard.

“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.

Joel sighs.

“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”

Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.

Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.

But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.

“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”

“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”

“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.

On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.

“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.

“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.

Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.

Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…

Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.

It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.

Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.

“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”

He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.

“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.

“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.

“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.

Joel snorts.

“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.

“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.

Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.

“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.

“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.

“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.

You say his name quick.

“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.

A moment passes.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.

He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.

“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.

A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.

And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.

The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.

Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.

While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.

You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.

During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.

You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.

But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.

It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.

There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.

Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.

But not as hot as the sounds he makes.

The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.

You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.

But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.

Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.

The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.

Joel of course had messaged you.

Looks like you had fun last night

So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.

But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.

So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.

“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.

“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”

“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”

You agree and thank him.

“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.

“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.

Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.

“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.

Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”

His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.

“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.

“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.

You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.

Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.

“No, none of that.” He answers.

“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”

Your heart sinks.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.

He sighs.

“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”

His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.

A grim cloud seems to settle above you.

“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”

“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.

Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.

“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”

You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.

He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.

Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.

Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.

Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.

The days blur together.

Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.

hope you’re alright

You want to cradle that message.

When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.

“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”

That’s right.

Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.

“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.

The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.

He texts back immediately.

Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered

That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.

Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.

“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.

A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.

You take a small comfort in that.

When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.

At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.

Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.

Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.

“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.

“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.

It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.

“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.

“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”

She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.

You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.

Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.

You’re stunned in shock yet again.

Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.

It’s beautiful and comforting.

“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.

You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.

“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.

Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.

Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case

Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.

With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.

Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.

In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.

The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.

It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.

You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.

Two strikeouts back to back.

Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.

“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.

You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.

“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”

He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.

Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.

Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.

He did amazing.

Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.

But it’s still a sweet victory.

You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.

“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.

You can’t say no.

The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.

The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.

Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.

Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.

The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.

It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.

Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.

“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.

He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.

Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.

“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.

Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.

“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.

“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.

You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.

“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.

“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.

Because of course they do.

Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.

You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.

“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.

“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.

Next time.

“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.

With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.

You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.

“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.

“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.

Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”

You weakly grin back.

You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.

You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.

Joel however is surprisingly talkative.

“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.

And it kills you.

“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.

Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.

“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.

You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.

You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.

“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.

“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.

“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.

Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.

“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”

There it is.

Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.

So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.

“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.

He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.

You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.

“It means what it means.” You fire back.

“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.

“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.

“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.

It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.

You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.

“Honey, I’m sorry-”

Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.

Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.

“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.

Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.

“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.

“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.

You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.

“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.

“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.

His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you

“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.

You’re not and you tell him that.

“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.

“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.

He inhales, and his face goes taunt.

You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.

Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.

Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.

The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.

“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.

“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.

Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.

“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.

“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.

“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”

Joel freezes.

“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.

Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.

Your lips and eyes shut close.

Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.

“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. “Tell me, please.”

You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.

He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.

“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.

So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.

He groans.

“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.

He devours you.

You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.

“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.

You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.

Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.

In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.

Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.

You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.

“Joel.”

He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.

“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.

“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.

You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.

You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.

Joel sighs.

“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

Now a bitter venom spills in you.

You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up

“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.

Over his shoulder he glares at you.

“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”

“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.

Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.

“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.

A pause settles between him and you.

“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.

“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.

He goes quiet again.

“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”

Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.

“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet

Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.

The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.

Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.

“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.

The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.

“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”

In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.

Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.

When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.

But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.

While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.

Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.

Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.

He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.

“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.

“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”

His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.

Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.

But the next morning arrives.

“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.

“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.

His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.

You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.

“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.

That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.

[yeahiwasintheshit]

This is truly one of the biggest and best announcements from the Harris team.

If there’s one issue you want implemented today, before your parents need it, it’s this one. Most of you are young and have relatively young parents, but if something were to happen to your parents, or they are just getting too old to be left alone, they would not only save so so so soooo much money on senior home health care costs, they could have in-(your parents)-home healthcare costs covered under their Medicare. So Medicare would pay to have professional healthcare providers actually come to them instead of having to remove your parents from their home and put them in a nursing facility.

This is a real game changer, and can only happen under a Kamala Harris administration

https://www.cbsnews.com/amp/news/harris-medicare-at-home-plan/

[himegureisu]

Expectations

Summary: The news of your pregnancy has spread throughout the castle.

A/N: I did this, pretending to be busy at work until the end of the day. There's another one in the works I hope it doesn't take as much time as it did this one.

---------------------✨--------------------

There were several violent reactions when news reached students of your pregnancy.

They could barely reconcile the fact that their Potions’ Professor was married. To you, one of their nicest substitute professors, among any other person in the world. To see a physical manifestation of the relationship they could hardly fathom would be the true game changer.

There were restrained conversations of joy amongst the Slytherins, fond smiles from Hufflepuff, sensible arguments from Ravenclaw, and barely audible gasps from Gryffindor when you arrived at your classroom. However, nothing could top the dramatic swoon that overcame Ronald Weasley when Harry whispered the news into his ear.

Your students gasped and giggled as young Weasley’s cheeks turned a shade of crimson when he came to, crowded by his friends.

“Is it truly astonishing we’d get to this point?” Severus remarked, “There is no doubt that I love you,”

“Your attitude doesn’t aspire the thought that you’d like kids,” you explained, as you gestured for them to sit down, “And, they don’t see you as I do,”

“They don’t need to,” he simply said, “They’re not you,”

Your cheeks warm at his words and on the ring of the bell, your smile vanished. Your time’s up for the morning. Severus sighed and withdrew reluctantly from your embrace. His arms remained on your side, hesitant to let go when the students continued to file in.

“I’ll come here for lunch,” he whispered by your ear, as the students observed, “I’ll not hear complaints about this,”

“Okay,” you conceded, as the bell rang again, and said, “You’ll be late,”

His hot breath on your cheek as gentle warm lips brushed against your skin in a light kiss. Your lips slowly turned up as he pulled away but you said before he could let go.

“If you’re not going to do it properly then perhaps we shouldn’t take lunch together after all,”

His steps faltered and turned around; his eyes widened in surprise at your bold statement in the midst of the class but there was that mischievous sparkle in them. You anticipated his rejection but the moment his lips gently pressed against yours and audible gasps echoed throughout the room, you knew that lunch and most likely dessert was on the table.

His arms pulled you closer in his embrace, making the rest of the class fade away as you both lost yourselves in the moment. Your eyes fluttered open as Severus withdrew, taking your hand and pressing a softer kiss on it.

“I love you,” he declared, “And I don’t need to prove it to anyone but you, however, if you insist then, I hope you’ll prepare yourself for the most ridiculous display of affection these coming months,”

“I’ll look forward to it,” you smiled, and his heart warmed at the sight, “I love you. I’ll see you later, so go to your class Professor Snape,”

“Lest I be late,” he started to walk again, as you said, “What a first for your teaching career, Professor Snape late!”

[simonisferal]

somebody’s watching me — ghostface scaramouche x gn reader

warnings: stalking, nothing really happens ^^, small cliffhanger, mainly just dialogue tbh,

notes: i’ve never watched scream so im just going off of my dick and youtube summarys😭

the thirty-first of october was never a big deal to you. it just meant that more people would be wearing masks and others slutty cat costumes that showed more skin that you’d like.

kids would ring your door bell and even occasionally ding-dong-ditch your property, thinking it was funny.

as much as you’d enjoy the holiday in the comfort of your own home, your roommate was rather keen of going to a costume party that won’t be over till five in the morning—meaning: you’ll be home alone for the whole night.

that’s not a bad idea, right?

they left earlier than you’d like, around four in the afternoon to help set up some things. you didn’t really care—it just gave you more freedom, even thought you’ll probably just coop yourself in your room.

downstairs, in the kitchen, you had the liberty of foraging through the fridge to make yourself something. it hadn’t even been a few hours but you felt a little bit sceptic.

what type of party needs to be prepared for at four? maybe a big one, you reason, but the aching feeling didn’t leave. you’re going crazy.

you sigh, closing the fridge. there’s nothing good in there—let alone still fresh. the snacks in the pantry sound so good right now…

but before you could even glance over to the snacks, the phone rang. it wasn’t yours; it was a house-phone, built with the wires of your shared home.

you usually ignored calls but with the growing suspicion in your mind, you cautiously picked it up.

on the other line, at first, was only heavy breathing. it made you cringe just a tad bit. it was low and disturbing and you had the urge to just hang up right then, right there.

but you didn’t and then, “hey, y/n.”

you pause. you didn’t know the person but they knew you. it was… offputting, to say the least.

”hey….” ignoring the voice crack, you continue. “do i know you?”

there was an awkward silence and you subconsciously leaned in closer to hear better. the voice spoke once more, “maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” that’s so helpful.

you roll your eyes. ”that’s not creepy at all.” you considered hanging up, but what else did you have left to do in the house? you would’ve just been stuck there, alone.

the person on the phone spoke again, their voice hitching a bit—they might be using a voice-changer. “wanna take a guess?”

"do i want to take a guess at a rando calling me on halloween?" you lean on the wall, your boredom tempting you to play with the phone string.

there was another silence over the phone before a small laugh come out. it sounded slightly forced, like it was awkward.

"you didn't answer my question. come on—guess." their voice was eager, like a small child who just asked you 'guess what' with the biggest grin on their faces.

"i don't know—why don't you give me a hint?"

"but where's the fun in that? come on," they edged you on, "i'll give you three tries."

they wasn't taking no for an answer.

it was truly a dumb idea to stay on the line with them—they weren't even telling you their name. "fine," you submit to the 'game' they were playing.

"are you a certain ginger?"

"ajax? oh please... guess again." they knew one of your close friends, which now that you think about it, isn't a really hard thing to know.

"yelan?" it could be, but then again would she really waster her time with this? the answer wasn't definite, so it'd be best to get it out of the way.

"pulling out the big guns, huh?" they teased. their voice grew a tiny bit louder, as if they were pulling the phone closer to themselves, and it rang with a small echo as they spoke. "one try left, sweetie. make it count."

you scoff, a slight feeling of perception getting to you. the house felt cold and the phone felt like a bright fire, burning you but you couldn't pull away. "can you give me a hint? i'm working with nothing."

there was a pause over the phone. their breath stopped before it was wheezed out into a laugh.

"you can't figure it out? you're pulling my leg here..!"

you shouldn't be too stressed out over this. the mere conversation barely had lasted minutes but it had felt likes hours by now. you gulp and, with sweaty hands, grab the phone tighter against your ear. the feeling your being watched only increases and your eyes start darting places you'd never really consider suspicious.

the windows were faintly open but you could still see out of them. the front door didn't have a blind or curtain drooped over it so the view was certain. even the small gap in your floorboards felt nauseating.

"come on. give me a hint or i'll hang up." you threaten.

they were quick. "don't hang up."

"why not?"

an eerie silence came. not a slight hitch, no heavy breathing, no wheezed out voices.

the wind began to breeze, as if it knew you were terrified. the bushes shook and the trees grew faintly touched by it.

"what's your favorite scary movie?" as if you weren't scared enough, they had to ask that.

you shuddered. you pressed your back against the wall, hesitantly responding in a rushed whisper. "why do you ask?"

"it feels like i should ask." they chimed. "this probably feels like a horrir movie to you, eh?" there was a tiny chuckle at the end of their sentence which only made you scoff.

the voice over the phone continued. "you get a phone call from an unknown number, you pick up and it turns out to be a random person asking you questions. they start getting a little too personal and—well, you can see where i'm going with this."

you scoff, trying to maintain a look of confidence like you're not scared shitless. "that only happens in movies."

a pause was quick to come, again, before they talked. the playful and eager tone was gone, now just a taint of irritation and boredom. "does it, now?

look to the right."

your breath hitches. your back subconsciously tried to push your further against the wooden walls, trying to sink and hide from whatever was there. "i don't want to."

"i'm not asking."

"m-make me." you stutter out. it was definitely a bad idea to say that, but you didn't dwell on it for too long as they—or he, now spoke.

the voice changer was off, no—it wasn't coming from the phone. it was from your porch. the door was locked but he still had the decency to knock.

he seemed to ignore your indecent comment. "i'm gonna ask you again. you wanna take a guess at who i am before—eh, that'll spoil things..." he scoffed shortly after, a small shadow showing his motion from the late sun's set.

his voice was clear now and it was terrifying. how couldn't you have guessed was beyond your biggest problem.

"...scara. that's...you, isn't it."

"took you long enough, but i'm not one to hold grudges. just open the door and we'll talk." his tone was shallow. the words echoed in your ears like he was everywhere yet nowhere at the same time. just how crazy is he?

"leave me alone, scara. i don't want to talk." your hands slipped away from the phone, letting it sway in the air and taking a small step back. you might've forgotten he could see you—"y/n. where do you think you're going?

surely you're not running from me. come on, we're such old friends! you can't leave me hanging now."

his voice grew more impatient at your ignorance.

"y/n, come on! you can't run or hide from me. i know where to look. open the damn door or i'll force myself in there."

he scoffs, loud enough for you, wherever you are, to hear.

"shit—y/n, you bitch. i'm finding you one way or a-fucking-nother." he fiddles with the front door's doorknob. it was scrambled by the aggressive pounding on your door.

it was loud but you doubted your neighbors, gone for trick or treating in the richer neighborhoods, heard it. you were alone.

the voice didn't stop, only seemingly getting louder and louder. the knocks turned into bashes of force you would assume came from slamming his head against the wood. too much was happening and your heart didn't stop racing.

questions filled your mind as to why he was there.

why?!

surely what you did wasn't that bad! it was a prank, a silly old prank.

anyone could've pulled it—everyone else did do it, so why were you so different?!

why were you, maybe even, first?!

it startled you, every pulse, every kick, every scream, every echo, every slam, every fucking little sound he made unti it stopped.

it finally stopped.

you were okay.

he was gone.

he gave up.

he quit.

you're not in danger anymore.

you're safe to come out now. he won't hurt you.

the faint footsteps you heard back away from the carpeted floors only fueled your thinking. the floorboards creaked as you slightly shifted, even more as he walked off.

your breath was unnecessarily heavier now, even though you'd managed to calm down. the faint voices in your mind, repeating his words, only grew stronger.

the footsteps from the carpeted floor grew louder and louder, so had the breathing you figured out wasn't even your own, and the voices in your head weren't from your head.

they stopped soon enough, only leaving an echo from where you were hiding.

"you should've chosen a better hiding spot. remember those words?

you thought it was hilarious to watch me suffer, didn't you?"

the creaking and the silence stomps grew louder. the breathing was quieter as if trying to scare you more than you were already.

"too bad, you're as easy to stalk as you are easy to read. maybe we could've talk if you had answered the door."

[centrally-unplanned]

This article about Hamas's strategic planning in the lead up to the October assault was at least a partial mind-changer for me. So far I had been viewing Hamas as executing a "bait" attack on Israel for international & domestic political reasons. Kill enough Israelis, and in particular take some hostages, to force Israel to invade Gaza; which you want because that will re-inflame radicalism, tank Israel's growing coziness with Arab states like the Gulf Monarchies, and keep the Palestine Question front-and-center on people's agendas.

What it was not about was achieving any sense of a military victory; Hamas did not think they would be able to defeat the IDF on the field, or even truly hold them back. They thought they would do better than they have in defending Gaza, to be honest, but the goal wasn't to "win" in that way or anything. The actions of Israel, in their inflamed bloodlust, would be the fulcrum of progress for Hamas. It was the most logical interpretation of their strategy, because tbh its working, Israel's strategy void has bungled this war at every level. Of course if it is "worth it" is a completely separate question - Hamas is playing a game from deep, deep in the red, if you aren't going to fold and pack it up from that position these are the hail mary plays you make.

This article, a long (and sometimes overly windy) interview with two career members of the Palestinian governing orgs (primarily Fatah), shines a very different light on that. They outline that over the past ~decade, Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar coalesced power around his own faction of highly fundamentalist adherents that convinced itself that divine favor was shining on them and they would be able to actually defeat Israel in the field. The most compelling evidence for this is a conference they held planning the post-conquest occupation of Israel:

So detailed were the plans that participants in the conference began to draw up list of all the properties in Israel and appointed representatives to deal with the assets that would be seized by Hamas. "We have a registry of the numbers of Israeli apartments and institutions, educational institutions and schools, gas stations, power stations and sewage systems, and we have no choice but to get ready to manage them," Obeid told the conference.

They even called people up to ask if they would take the job of governor of this-of-that province! This was not a bored-Friday white paper by any means. They discussed defensive plans and counter-offensives like that was on the table. Sinwar outlined conquest as the goal.

If we accept this premise, it naturally lends itself to the question "okay how did they get the rest of Hamas to go along with this?" Because Hamas is not all These Kinds of People, its a governing state that does politics on the international stage after all. One of the reasons I leaned towards my interpretation was that, for the past ~decade, Hamas has actually been doing a glam-up rebranding of the org to make it more moderate & respectable in international eyes. The 2017 Charter Revision is the biggest example, which included say disavowing the idea that this was a religious war (distinguishing between zionism & judaism), and loosely admitting to the idea that they could recognize Israel as a country if terms were met. Actions like these show actors who are pretty level-headed. Were they inauthentic? Did they change their mind?

Maybe a bit, but its more than they aren't the same people. Right alongside the build-up to the October attack was a purging & sidelining of whole swaths of Hamas leadership. Many were not even informed of the attack - though they knew something was coming. Apparently it leaked on October 2nd, and a bunch of leaders just immediately fled the Strip for safety. This one is the most amusing:

Haniyeh's eldest son took a similar course of action. Around midday on October 2, Abed Haniyeh chaired a meeting of the Palestinian sports committee, which is headed by the minister of sports, Jibril Rajoub. Suddenly he received a phone call, left the room for a few minutes and then returned, pale and confused. He immediately informed the committee – whose members were in a Zoom conference with counterparts in the West Bank – that he had to leave for the Rafah crossing straightaway, as he had just learned that his wife had to undergo fertility treatment in the United Arab Emirates. (He was lying.) He granted full power of attorney to his deputy and left the Gaza Strip hurriedly.

That is one way to duck out of a pointless meeting, take notes people!

So instead of my hail mary politics play, what you have is a story of an institutional coup by a radical faction - which for extremist resistance groups is an ever-present threat. None of this means the "bait" strategy part is wrong of course, that was definitely still the point - but this argument here claims that goal of the bait was to bring the IDF into Gaza where it could be defeated in the field with their extensive fortifications, and then presumably inspire others like Hezbollah to jump on the moment of weakness and besiege Israel proper.

So....is this true? There are two gigantic caveats on this article: the first is that the people being interviewed do not primarily work for Hamas - they are members of Fatah, the leading faction of the PLO. They hate Hamas, they are not Hamas leaders themselves, they have every incentive to paint Hamas as irredeemable. You really can't take this story simply at their word. But they aren't outsiders - they hate Hamas but they work with them constantly, that is how it works, people rotate around in the Palestine orgs. They have met personally and worked with dozens of Hamas leaders; one of them was even called to be offered one of those post-war occupation governorships! (He said no lol) So its a big red flag but not a damning one. And things like the fleeing leaders, the conference on the occupation, those all 100% happened. They released press on it, they weren't hiding it.

The second caveat is that its just really not uncommon for large organizations, particularly extremist ones, to engage in mainly performative actions at scale. The South Korean government still maintains a department that plans for the administration of North Korea for example! Not totally useless ofc, but it writes exactly the reports you think it does that get put in a bin and never touched. Sometimes its appeasing internal factions, sometimes its PR, sometimes its just institutional inertia. Its absolutely believable that Hamas would make a big plan for how they would conquer Israel because otherwise...what do you tell the commanders, exactly? Why are they fighting again? A significant percentage of the lower-level fighters need that belief, so you give it to them. While certainly there is a fundamentalist faction in Hamas, are they ones winning? Or are they just another faction being played against?

I don't see enough evidence to say, but there is enough to make me pause. I'm not sold on it in the end, that is my final conclusion. I think more brains than Sinwar were involved in this and they had more realistic aspirations. And yet the level of commitment and disorganization does suggest that at least some of what was pushing events forward was a group immune to doubts being at the wheel. Certainly interested in researching more.

[knight-a3]

Just some pre-triple changer Blitzwing and his best buddy Astrotrain.

Some ideas for what happened to the other triple changers(aka every successful experiment has a few failures preceding it)

I ramble on under the cut

SO! I know the S4 plans had it outlined that Black Arachnia was the one who did the triple changer procedure on Blitzwing, but it doesn't totally make sense for her to do it imo. None of the S4 plans were ever set in stone anyway, so it's not actually canon. I just don't see much precedent for her to do that. Where did this medical skill set come from?

Historically, iterations of Shockwave have been the resident unethical scientists. In TFA, he was shown to be capable enough to restore Arcee's memory, so I think there's grounds to believe he can still play that role.

Whoever it was, Blitzwing couldn't be the first test subject. What other triple changers do we know of that could potentially meet a tragic fate? 🤔

So my idea was that the Decepticons captured three autobots and decided to use them as test subjects for this revolutionary new triple changer idea. Two alt forms? Truly a game changer!

Broadside was a former con(due to his jet alt form) turned autobot. He was a total failure. Never made it off the operating table.

Sandstorm lasted a little longer. But his body soon rejected the modifications, and he went offline.

Springer lasted long enough to be rescued/escape. But his mental stability gradually declined until the mods failed and he also died.

After these three experiments failed, they turned to some of their own troops.

Octane was not a particularly well respected Decepticon, which is why he ended up being a test subject. He survived, but suffered severe mental damage and was deemed useless. Probably tossed out like trash and left to rust. If not outright killed.

Astrotrain: Considered the first success. The mental damages were minimized and he was initially fairly stable, but his transformation abilities became more sluggish over time. And he suffered increasingly severe mental lapses. He'd either stare vacantly or suddenly drop into recharge mode. They were worse if he didn't get enough energon, gradually requiring more and more to keep him going. Weapons capabilities were lost to conserve energy. He was on a transport mission when a lapse got him killed and Blitzwing injured(which made him the next triple changer test subject).

(Also, I don't like drastic mass shifting, so Astrotrain is bigger than the others. And I think I'm gonna treat him more like he's a portable space bridge, rather than big enough to carry multiple Decepticons. He can bridge others from the decepticon base to himself, or to base from himself (it's still a strategic disadvantage compared to the autobots' large network of space bridges). This requires Astrotrain to still physically travel places in order to transport others. And losing weapon capabilities requires an escort to travel with him. The other option is a pocket dimension like Swindle's)

Blitzwing: His personality was fractured, leading to erratic behavior. Turns out the fracture eased the processing load caused by the triple changing modification. But otherwise in working order physically and mentally. He's lasted longer than the others, and his condition hasn't deteriorated since.

ANYWAY, this has been my attempt to reconcile some headcanons with canon. While also maybe tweaking canon a little to fit

[takaraphoenix]

Oh, I made a post yesterday about wanting season 2 of The Seven and about how this year feels like it's shaping up and hinting at it, but last night's Game Changer???

C'MOOON THAT HAS TO BE FORESHADOWING.

Becca, Erika and Rekha as contestants and Persephone and Aabria cameos and Izzy there, in spirit?

You don't put the entire exact line-up of the campaign together like that if you are not trying to tell us that we will, indeed, get a season 2. You truly can not do that to me, Dropout, because that would be cruel and unusual.

Also:

These three were so damn adorable. Especially when they worked together on the Ikea buzzer. The friendship ;-;

Sephie looked so good in the witchy get-up!!

Aabria in her sailor get-up looked so cute.

Please, Brennan, I need you to put them all in the Dome again. Please.

[that-bitch-kat3]

i’m aware that i am so late to the party but i am currently watching heartstopper for the first time and oh my god. i meant to watch this show earlier but i felt like id been burned before when it came to queer stories in media and honestly i have a hard time letting myself enjoy things so i thought it would be better for me to just have this idea in my head about a sweet queer story but i was wrong. this is so good and worth the scary parts of watching something new.

they are telling so many different stories with different characters and identities but they all center around the one central idea of queer children deserve to be happy. i have dealt with and currently deal with a lot of the shame that comes from being queer (especially if you were raised religious) but watching these stories play out of young teenagers getting to do the things i always wanted to but wasn’t always brave enough to do is really beautiful to me. (not that i haven’t had some of these experiences but the unflinching support they show each other means the world to me)

i also think that this show is just visually fucking stunning. every shot is truly cinematic and the whole thing looks like it came out of a dream. the colors they use are so good at displaying the mood of the scene and they give it this truly lovely and magical vibe that i honestly haven’t seen a lot of.

the soundtrack has to be my favorite part. honestly there hasn’t been a single song i’ve heard so far that wasn’t already on my playlist but i feel like they still managed to cover the gambit of important queer songs (that fit the aesthetic) the songs always add to the scenes they are in and honestly i feel like they give a lot of needed context.

i could spend hours reading into every lighting, dialogue, music, and angle choice for every scene but i think my main thing is this. i know that we all know representation is so important, but seeing queer joy expressed on the screen and watching young queer people fall in love with each other, themselves, and the world around them has been a total game changer for me. this show means the world to me and honestly expect to see some heartstopper stuff reblogged in the future.

[zedleaked]

@tea-t1me AND I WERE IN A MAGMA AND SOMETHING.

HAPPENED.. WHAT IF OUR FUSIONS KISSED, AND ALSO WHAT IF THOSE FUSIONS WERE MADE OF THE SAME PEOPLE RGJHIURGH

LAUGHING STOCK [CRINGE NERD] BY YOURS TRULY AND GAME CHANGER [THE COOLER NERD] BY TEA :3

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon - Losing Their Virginity

*Turtles are at least 18, Bayverse turtles

*18+ Readers only, contains sexual content and language you may find offensive.

*Third person female POV

Mikey's Story

Raph's Story

Leo's Story

It's finally time for Donnie's story! I'm so relieved I actually finished a series and I didn't lose my creative flame. Thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs!

Being the last of his brothers to be a virgin was embarrassing. Donnie knows his brothers would never outright tease him about it but it stung nonetheless. Even straight-laced Leo got a girlfriend before him! This wouldn’t do, not at all and Donnie was going to do something about it. Now he doesn’t do anything right away but he does make this elaborate plan to meet someone. It doesn’t work, unfortunately. The poor girl runs away screaming at the sight of him.

In the aftermath of his failure he does what he does best. He retreats into himself and stays in his lab for weeks on end. Even Raph is a little worried about their brother in purple but they all leave him to work things out on his own. He always does.

Fortunately he’s got distractions to keep him from falling completely into the abyss and is very well-known in the online gaming community. He’s got friends on there too, including someone he’s gotten pretty close to. She uses an androgynous name and a voice changer so the guys on there don’t know she’s female. The combat sessions were just easier that way. Even Donnie wasn't aware of her secret until one day when she forgets to use the voice changer and everyone in the party realizes she's been a girl all along. Almost immediately the derogatory comments start up. Don, however, is quick to shut them down and snaps at the other guys for objectifying her like that. He sounded so sweet in his defense of her and as a result, she stops using the voice changer from that moment on. She does apologize to him for hiding her gender in a private voice chat with just the two of them and he completely understands. He promises her that he won't let anyone bother her if he can help it.

Donnie is pleased to have made a new female friend. They get to chatting more and more and even do a few voice calls. He is ever so careful not to let slip that he’s a 6’8” mutant turtle. Still, his walls come down somewhat the closer they get. They even exchange numbers and do a few voice calls. She texts him daily with little memes and fun facts. Donnie reciprocates by texting her his random thought of the day. He also texts her riddles and is highly aware that she wants to figure them out for herself, no hints.

One day he gets a text that kicks up his fight or flight instinct. A simple ‘Can we meet?’ At this point, they had been friends for a good few months and Donnie never dreamed it would go beyond that. His logical brain thought it would be better to keep her at arms length. That way, nobody would get hurt. Still, his fingers itched to type back ‘yes, when and where?’ he really wanted to meet her but the fear of what she’d think of him when she discovered what he truly was kept him from typing that out. Instead he types: ‘it’s probably not a good idea… we should keep things as they are.’ He still couldn’t bring himself to press ‘send’.

Several minutes later he was still trying to find an answer. She seemed to sense her question was ill-timed and apologizes, saying she realizes they aren’t ready for that yet. Immediately his fingers fly to the keyboard typing rapidly. He does want to meet her, he just hesitated because he was nervous and there’s something she needs to know first. He sits there then, his heart pounding as anxiety takes over. This was it, she was going to find out he was a monster, a freak and he was going to lose her. Finally he makes his decision. He calls her, trying to keep his voice from shaking and stutters out where to meet him.

Donnie shows up with a purple hoodie on covering his head and leaves most of his tech in his lab. He keeps his phone on him and a hidden bo staff just in case. He stays hidden in the shadows until he sees her. His breath catches in his throat, she was beautiful. Red hair… he had such a weakness for redheads. There’s a light dusting of freckles on her nose, and her expression showed she was nervous and unsure. She’s looking around everywhere for him, afraid he wasn’t going to show up.

Donnie steels himself; it was now or never. Very gingerly, he emerges, keeping his head down. He tells her it’s him, his voice shaking slightly. She’s immediately struck by how tall he is, she loved tall men, it was her weakness. She was confused by his body posture and why it looked like he was wearing a backpack. Donnie quietly asks her not to scream because he’s not exactly human and doesn’t want to scare her. He takes his hood off and braces himself for the inevitable. But it doesn’t come. She gasps at his appearance with obvious wonder and not disgust as he thought she would. He watches her carefully as she steps closer to get a better look. She tells him now she knows how Belle felt meeting the Beast the first time except she's not afraid of him. At that, Donnie has to smile because he knows Beauty and the Beast is her favourite Disney movie and that she held the steadfast belief that the Beast never should have changed into a human. He relaxes more then and asks her if she’d like to hang out for a while. She agrees and is full of questions for the duration of the night. Donnie is happy to answer each and every one of them if it means he gets to spend more time with her. She gives him a kiss on the cheek when they finally part ways and he’s so elated he feels like he could sing.

Donnie has a girlfriend. He has an actual girlfriend. At first his brothers tease him saying at least he didn’t have to build one. Truthfully though, they’re very happy for him and relieved because they can see an obvious change in him. He’s happier and he’s not staying holed up in his lab like he used to. It’s not long before he invites her down to the lair to meet his family and show her around. He’s so proud to show off all the things he’s been working on and even more proud to show her his bigger projects like the TTT or Turtle Tactical Truck. She is definitely awed by his accomplishments and thinks it’s very sweet that this awkward, nerdy, sweetheart of a turtle was trying so hard to impress her. If it wasn't obvious, Donnie has already fallen head over heels for this girl but he hasn’t told her yet nor have they made love. He wants it to be perfect.

In his effort to do this, it takes him a long time to plan it. Luckily, his new girlfriend is very patient and they do get closer in other ways. He gives her the full rundown on his ‘equipment’, telling her exactly how it differs from a human male’s, but assuring her it still functions as such. She can’t help but giggle at how serious he’s being about it all and assures him that she still wants to try either way. Donnie hurriedly tells her that there’s no rush and that they can take their time with such things. He’s secretly afraid it might be too painful for her and wants to be fully prepared so they are able to make it work between them.

Donnie is the only one of his brothers to do actual research on how to properly please a woman. After all, research is what he does best and he’s nervous but excited to put it into practice. Needless to say, she’s very pleased with the results and though they don’t have actual sex in the coming weeks, they get awfully close.

It happens on the very special date he has planned for her. Now, Donnie, being well, himself, has its definite advantages. One of which being his ability to break in and hack his way into pretty much anywhere. On the day of the date, he tells her to dress up and meet him at the planetarium. Upon meeting her there, he whisks her away to a secret entrance where they can view the planetarium from above and enjoy a private meal. Mikey had been more than willing to pack some food and snacks for them. 'Tonight my Donnie boy, you become a man.' ... 'Thanks, Mikey..."

After the meal is finished, he takes her into the theatre with the large domed projection screen. He tells her to close her eyes and count to three. When she opens them, he���ll have turned on the projector and she sees millions of stars, planets, and galaxies above them. It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever experienced. Her eyes are a bit misty when he shyly asks if she likes it.

Her response is standing on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him like her life depends on it. Donnie reacts immediately, his long, lean arms catching her and holding her close as he angles his mouth to kiss her more deeply. Minutes later, they’re breathing deeply and staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when he knows it’s time, he loves her and he’s going to tell her. He whispers it, afraid that if he says it any louder she might not feel the same way. She whispers it back, honestly, that she loves him and tells him just how special and unique he is, and how she’s feels so lucky to have met him. He can’t help but reiterate that he’s the lucky one before covering her mouth with his. Several passionate moments later he pulls back with a question in his eyes. She absolutely picks up on it, and breathlessly asks him to come back to her apartment with her. Donnie has never moved so fast in his life. He shuts everything down, grabs their things and exits the building with her in less than five minutes.

Upon arrival to the apartment things escalate quickly. Gear and belongings are dropped haphazardly and there’s a desperation to undress her as quickly as possible before he practically carries her to her bedroom. Pretty soon he’s also bare and has her laid out beneath him trembling with need. His touch is skillful and precise. He is methodical about this, he wants to do as much foreplay and prep-work to make this as painless and pleasurable as he possibly can. He works at gently stretching her opening while making her feel good at the same time. When the time comes for her to take him inside he goes inch by inch, always stopping and checking if she’s still all right. He’s the only one of his brothers to use a condom, ‘just in case’ and ‘safety first’. It had taken some looking though to find ones large enough to accommodate him.

 She only feels a slight amount of pain, grateful to him for taking the time to ready her and falls in love with him just a little more from his thoughtfulness and care. Once she’s ready, he does a few practiced thrusts and oh boy, nothing could have prepared him for how good this would feel. He can’t help but stutter it out to her, how amazing she is and how much he loves her. She whispers it back and tells him likewise how good it feels to have him inside of her.

He’s spurred on by her words of encouragement he moves faster and has to concentrate on not being the first to finish. With a careful hand he snakes his fingers between their bodies and rubs her sensitive nub in well-practiced circles with his thumb, he whispers how beautiful she is and how much he wants to hear her come. He gently urges her, ‘come for me, come for me, beautiful… let me hear you.’

Almost immediately, her body locks up and the grip on his shoulders tightens while she digs her fingernails into his tough skin. Her cries are absolute music to his ears and he decides he needs to hear her make these types of sounds as often as he can. He grunts softly as his own release comes moments after hers, he groans deeply while his body shudders from the blinding amount of pleasure he feels.

The aftermath is composed of soft kisses, whispered murmurings of love and a gentle cleanup, her before himself of course. Donnie’s conclusion is that this has to be the happiest moment of his life… so far. The best is yet to come.

Mikey does congratulate him when he returns home.

The End

[fluidstatick]

I dunno, man. (game changer finale talk under the cut)

I love the chemistry of Brennan, Jess, Grant, Ally, Rekha, Katie, and Zac. An excellent spread of comedy styles, and they're all tight enough friends that they can strategize with (and against) each other easily. Ally, hiding behind Brennan, who is hiding behind Rekha, just in a different context -- Truly only this crew could pull off something like that. The Landlord and Granma Sweetie are such perfect distillations of Jess and Zac's energy.

Names aside, I thought Jack and Jackson were too similar. Katie and Grant were both trying to be the straight (lol) man in the building, and for me, that meant they cancelled each other out.

Adjustable Side Table Walnut was absolutely robbed. Rekha had pitch perfect banter with everyone (except Steven), did an excellent job figuring everyone else out, and didn't give any hints until it was time to boot Brennan. She absolutely should have won, on merit of playing the game thoroughly and hilariously.

As for the ratfish? Well.

Listen, I never watched Adult Swim. I only know Tim and Eric by name. I've never watched anything they've done. It was only last monday when I learned that this guy is Tim:

And this guy is Eric:

I literally thought that he was some sort of amateur astrophysics youtuber (?) and that gif was from some video he made about quantum mechanics, or string theory or something. I blame the turtleneck.

Anyway, I digress. Just from watching this, I don't find Eric Wareheim funny. According to a few posts I've seen in the dropout tags, though, his brand is mostly awkward anti-comedy anyway? Nothing wrong with that, it's just not my speed. It felt strange to go ive him so much power over the game. Sam was probably going for an impartial judge, someone who doesn't know the cast personally and can decide who their favorite is without the cast members themselves influencing their decision. That being said, there are so many different people Sam could've gone with. I still think it shoulda been Sam Reigel, cosplaying as Sam Reich. "Look at me. I'm the Sam now! I've been present for the duration!" Could've been any number of LA based comedians, really.

Eric's choices felt completely left field. Ally started strong with their BLeeM gambit, sure, but I really think Adjustable Side Table Walnut deserved more shine. Katie winning solely for the art piece felt anticlimactic, especially because the painting felt like a Katie piece, not a Jack Stryker piece.

The cast not getting to meet Eric felt unfair, too, unless for some reason he had to leave before the final table was assembled and shot.

The cackle at the end didn't feel like a cliffhanger so much as a taunt. We get it, Samuel Dalton, you're still out here wrecking shop and our frantic theorizing on discord and reddit is all for naught.

anyway tl;dr - Ratfish 🫤. Justice For Side Table Walnut! MeDeCine.

[mixtape-racha]

it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix

chapter one: do you like scary movies?

words: 1.51k // warnings: minor character death, cursing

OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 000

heejin jumped as the monster in the movie claimed another victim with its knife-like fingers. why did she even choose to watch this again? nightmare on something? beech road? no, that wasn’t right… elm street! stupid fucking elm street and stupid fucking freddy kreuger with his stupid fucking hands. she wasn’t even supposed to be watching it alone, let alone throwing her popcorn around the living room every time something scared her, but her dumbass boyfriend never turned up for date night. it was his choice of movie too!

when the phone rang, she rolled her eyes and paused the movie. if that wasn’t suho calling her with a good explanation, she was going to be pissed. he’d sworn he wouldn’t be late tonight, and further sworn that he wasn’t going to flake again like he did everytime their date night coincided with a lacrosse-team party.

“goddammit, suho, you promised you’d be on time tonight, i–”

but the voice at the end of the phone was not that of her boyfriend. in fact, it wasn’t a voice she recognized at all, so how did they have her number? and why were they calling her at 10:30 on a wednesday night?

“all alone tonight, heejin? what a shame. seems like a waste for a pretty girl like you to be by herself.” the voice almost sounded distorted, like someone was using a voice-changer on the end of the line.

“listen, if this is some sort of stupid prank, its not funny. who is this?” 

between the stress of upcoming finals, and a flaky boyfriend who seemed to enjoy the company of a football more than he did his girlfriend, heejin wasn’t in the mood for jokes. 

the voice chuckled, in a way that sent a shiver up heejin’s spine. “i think the better question is; where am i? you should really learn to lock your doors when you’re home alone, kid.”

“this isn’t funny. fuck off.” heejin hissed, slamming the phone down and heading back towards the comfort of her couch. kid. she wasn’t a kid. who the fuck where they to talk to her all patronizing like that? but just as she attempted to take her seat, the phone rang again.

huffing, she picked up the handset. “what?”

“now, thats not nice. i just wanna talk.” the voice laughed, something eerie about their tone putting heejin on edge.

“yeah, they’ve got 900 numbers for that. bye, now.”

tossing the phone on the counter, heejin headed into the kitchen to make herself a glass of water. what kind of weirdo called up girls on a wednesday night to scare them? men were weird. but she barely managed to cross the threshold of the kitchen when the ringing of the phone pierced the silence again.

heejin was beginning to get upset at this point. why wouldn’t they get the hint? if it was suho or his friends pulling a prank, she was truly going to get mad. but, she’d give them one last chance to piss off and grow up.

“listen here, asshole-!” she shouted, but was quickly cut off.

“no, you listen here you little bitch! hang up on me again and i’ll gut you like a fish!” the voice growled, catching her off guard. “yeah, thats right. wanna play a game, blondie? it’s called ‘guess how i’m gonna die’.”

trying to stop her voice from shaking, heejin ran across the lower expanse of the house, locking all the doors and windows she could see. what the fuck kind of joke was this?

“what do you want? please- don’t fuck with me.” backing into the living room to draw the blinds and grab the first weapon she could see - a letter cutter - she hid herself behind the tv display. she’d quickly realized this wasn’t suho or his friends - even they knew when a joke went too far.

“well, then. if you wanna see your pretty, little boyfriend again, you better be smart about this.” was the only reply she received as the voice laughed. the house was quiet - too quiet - heejin thought as she curled herself further into a corner. and what did suho have to do with this? holding back tears, she prayed her parents would come home soon.

“round one of the game, blondie. its no fun if you hide. why don’t you come out where i can see ya? if you don’t, i’m afraid its an automatic win for me.”

taking a deep breath to calm herself, heejin pulled herself out of the ball she was curled in and took a few cautious steps into the middle of the room. maybe the voice was bluffing? as long as she stayed inside the house, not going outside to “investigate a noise” like the dumb bitches in horror films, she’d be okay.

“good,” the voice on the other end of the phone drawled, the tone making heejin’s skin crawl. “now, round two. did you lock me out of the house, or did you lock me in?”

the call dropped, making heejin’s breath catch in her throat. the silence surrounding her was ridiculously loud, and she was scared to make a step or turn, even slightly. surely, this was just a prank. the guys had obviously just taken it too far, and were probably laughing at her wherever they were hidden. the minute she found them, she’d give them a piece of her mind.

it had to be a prank, didn’t it? stuff like this didn’t happen in woodsboro, it was the safest town she’d ever known.

any slight whistle of the wind outside sounded like an ever-growing closer breath, every tick of the clock like a creaky footstep reverberating throughout the house. clutching the letter cutter to her body, heejin tiptoed towards the hallway, hoping that she could get to her bedroom and hide in there until her parents returned home.

but that never came.

instead, she turned the corner to hear loud, clomping footsteps approaching her. a tall figure was inching closer to her, a father-death costume donned, and a large kitchen knife in their hand - her own kitchen knife. she feared she was about to die by her own utensil, unless whichever jock was pranking her took the mask off now.

holding onto hope that this was just a joke gone too far, although deep down she knew that wasn’t the case, she held out the letter cutter, swinging it.

“suho, i swear to fuck. if you don’t take that mask off right now and apologise, i won’t be held responsible for my actions.” her voice trembled as the faux-confidence slipped from her aura.

surprisingly, the figure did take the mask off, but much to heejin’s horror, it wasn't her loving boyfriend, or any of his stupid friends, and he continued to approach her, knife clutched tightly in his fist and a sadistic smile on his face.

“please, don’t do this- please, i’ll do anything!” heejin pleaded, tears falling freely down her face as the man grabbed a fistful of her hair and traced the edge of the knife against her throat.

the last words she ever heard were a simple, yet arrogantly cocky “i win.” before the knife was plunged into her stomach.

–

(y/n) climbed out of her car in confusion, wondering why so many people were around campus today. did she miss the memo for an event? it was only 8:20am, why were the emergency services on site?

barely anyone seemed to be walking alone, people grasping each other tightly. she spotted at least 6 girls crying, 4 boys pale and sickly in apparent shock. she couldn’t even begin to count the amount of students and staff talking to news reporters or journalists. what the hell was going on?

spotting jisung climbing off his bus, she jogged over to him, her confusion ever-growing and ever-present on her features. being her best friend and the biggest social butterfly she knew, surely jisung would have an answer to the gossip swirling around her in hushed voices.

“ji! what’s going on?” she called, grasping his attention, confused further as he ran over and picked her up in a hug, the relief clear in his aura.

“thank fuck, you’re okay. everyone’s been trying to get hold of you all morning. did you lose your phone or something? don’t ever fucking scare us like that again!”

(y/n) was slightly shocked, jisung had never raised his voice at her like that. none of the boys did. what the hell did she miss last night? everyone was acting so… weird. she didn’t know what she’d missed during her study night with yeji, but clearly it was something major. something bad.

“did something happen on campus? why are the news here? was there a fire or something?” she questioned, arm slung around her friend’s shoulders, but her expression soon dropped as the boy turned to face her - a look of what could only be described as sheer terror on his face.

“did you not hear? kang heejin was murdered last night.”

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