#this is taking too much of my phone battery so you get several parts
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aliencatwafers · 1 year ago
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Fawful headcanons [with my OCs involved] - PART 1
Fawful doesn’t trust many people and prefers to rely on himself. But once he gets attached to someone (ie: Cackletta, Midbus, RuV33n, Dark Star, Mitea), he becomes the most clingy bastard there ever was. Like, he will literally infodump to you, make stuff for you, and spend as much time as possible with you.
Fawful is a control freak. He’s studied people and their habits to know how they are likely to react (like Bowser’s Inside Story). He’s dealing with a memory that never forgets and mulls over past experiences. It comes in handy when he gets Bowser to a tee and needs to plan. But the downside is that Fawful struggles to let stuff go. Normal villain things like defeats or plans backfiring that dont bother most villains keep Fawful wide awake at night dissecting what happened.
Backstory
He was born in a small isolated village of Favaville. It was a hellhole since it once was made of people escaping from the Beanish Civil War hundreds of year ago. These Beanish found out that if a Beanish only absorbs rays from the Sun, their bodies melt onto the ground until they slowly die as bean trees. These trees are difficult to burn and destroy, so they made the perfect barrier to hide the village. These trees also provided bean fruits to feed the village for centuries. The issue was that the village had to sacrifice a third of the population to sustain itself. Criminals, disabled, and anyone who didn’t follow the rule’s were condemned to this fate. Fawful‘s parents became trees, but Fawful worked hard to follow the rules. He would pray at the town square as was expected.
Fawful was actually praying for the town to get destroyed. It didn’t occur to him that he could leave since he didn’t know if anything else existed outside the trees.
He broke the rules as much as anyone. Fawful stole trinkets from machines and blamed his peers so the elders would be more likely to condemn them to the trees (the elders kept a tally of who was good/bad). They made becoming a tree as a sacrifice for the common good (and the only good they’ll do).
Fawful is autistic to hell and back. He’s seen older autistic people be condemned to the trees, so he became a hardass on the rules and heavily masked/kissed ass to the elders for his safety. It worked.
His only friend was an elderly bread maker who gave him small bits of history, trinklets, and bread.
One day his prayers were answered...in the worst way possible. A band of survivor Shroobs demolished the town, killed everyone/fed them to a Yoob, and destroyed the trees. Fawful hid in the bread maker’s shoo but he got found out. A small group of Shroobs kept him alive and taught him Shroob.
Commander Shroob was pissed and ordered the Shroobs turn their back and kill Fawful. They almost did.
At the same time, Queen Bean exiled Cackletta from the kingdom on counts of treason and theft of the Beanstar.
Cackletta was from Favaville too (a long time ago) and travelled there to hide from the Beanbean government. She found the Shroobs about to kill Fawful and destroyed the Shroobs with her magic.
Cackletta thought about dropping Fawful off at an orphanage, but she felt bad about throwing him out after his home was destroyed. Cackletta feels shame that she felt bad at all, but justified it by seeing how good Fawful was with technology. She didn’t have the knowledge on what autism is, but she appreciates Fawful’s attention to detail.
Fawful is one of many on the long list of Cackletta’s pupils. He had the least amount of magic potential and strength but he more than made up for it with his technical skills and creativity. Even when the Beanbean Kingdom demonized him and blamed him for corrupting Cackletta, he merely laughed at everyone’s faces.
All of Cackletta’s pupils were privileged in some way (came from a noble family, rich, access to magic books, good family life, neurotypical). Fawful is the only underdog and unexpected pupil she’s had. But, he turned out to be her favorite since he was the most loyal.
When Fawful was in Favaville, he was exposed to nothing but bland food (cold watery oatmeal, overripe bean fruit, and cream of wheat). Spice wasn’t allowed since it was seen as sinful. Cackletta introduced Fawful to turkey and mustard sandwiches, and his entire world changed. He all of a sudden wanted to learn EVERYTHING about food. He studied a bunch of cook books in libraries and it boggled his mind. It inspired him to come up with food metaphors.
Cackletta quickly learned that she wasn’t fit to teach Fawful technology. She enrolled Fawful at Woohoo Hooiversity while she disguised herself as a professor/counselor to gather intel/gossip about the kingdom’s weaknesses as well as check up on Fawful.
Fawful worked alongside E. Gadd and they both made Stuffwell. Fawful wanted Stuffwell to be a weapon of mass intelligence and destruction. E.Gadd wanted Stuffwell to focus solely on science. Stuffwell chose E.Gadd
When Fawful was ready to graduate, he celebrated by setting the school on fire. When the school declined his diploma, he stole it and ran out of there.
After that dumb maneuver, Cackletta and Fawful hid out in Joke’s End.
Jojora befriended Fawful and respects Cackletta. They’ve had countless nights of drinking tea by the fire and gossiping/planning. Jojora has no intention of kingdom conquering, but she enjoys their company.
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felixcloud6288 · 1 year ago
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It's Hurricane Season so I'd like to share some advice as a life-long Floridian who's experienced a few things. This is going to be directed primarily to people living in areas at risk of blackouts which could last several days.
Preparations
Aside from food, water, and gas, some things you'll want to make sure you have are flashlights and batteries. Make sure to refill any medications you might need.
From @dea-certe: Fill up all vehicles and maybe a few gas containers now. Firstly because it will be more expensive in the storm aftermath, but also because it will be harder to find. I went to five different gas stations to find fuel at one point and was kicking myself because I had used so much has keeping the phones charged and keeping the heat going.
Get raincoats in case you need to go outside cause the wind will destroy any umbrellas.. If you can't get one, take a garbage bag and tear a face hole into it and use that.
Also, get bug repellent, especially mosquito repellent. Mosquitos breed around still water and there will be a lot of still water.
And if you have an infant, make sure to stock up on diapers, baby wipes, etc. Even if you don't have an infant, baby wipes can be useful to help keep yourself clean.
You might want to buy some gardening gloves as well to make the post-storm cleanup safer.
SUPER IMPORTANT FOR SANITY AND SANITATION: get caught up on laundry and dishes. No power means no running water. Don't make things worse by not having clean dishes or clean clothes to use. While you're cleaning, change your bed sheets as well. Once you have power, change your sheets again.
Also, download any games, ebooks, shows, etc you can onto any battery-charged electronic devices you have. It will help your sanity when all you can do is wait.
From @metadata-uber-alles: My recommendation re: radio is to make sure you have an actual AM/FM radio, one that can run on batteries. You can probably thrift it if you don't have one already. Most radio stations stream online too, but if the power goes out you'll be rationing your phone battery and may not have internet.
Finally, while you should ideally board up your windows to protect them from debris, make sure at the minimum that all your windows are closed. Wind pressures are going to suck air out of any openings in your home.
Food and Water
First and most important: DO NOT BE A HOARDER!!
Even if your home has no power, that doesn't mean your local grocery store has no power. You can expect some reduced supply due to damaged supply lines and a spike in demand, but you shouldn't be worrying about empty shelves. At worst, have the amount of supplies you might need for 10 days. If you normally go to the grocery store every 2 weeks or longer, just stock up the amount you normally would.
Buy more items that are less likely to spoil and don't need refrigeration. When you have no power, prioritize eating anything which requires refrigeration (milk, cheese, meats) or has a short shelf life (bread).
Demand will be higher in preparation, and supply will be diminished for a bit, but supply issues only become unbearable when people start hoarding.
As for water, you'll need a surplus since you need water for so much. I cannot stress this particular part enough:
You need water to flush your toilet.
If there's somewhere with running water you can go when you need to poop, use that whenever possible, but you need water available at home to refill your toilet's cistern if you don't have that option (either time, distance, etc).
Make sure you have a supply of drinking water. Don't go buying every water bottle you can find (See the bit about hoarding), but you should buy more than you might normally use. Instead, gather water through things like your sink or from a hose into any sealable containers you might have . If you have a bathtub, fill it up just before the hurricane. If you have a pool, that's another source of water. If no debris got in the pool, you can use it for bathing. If you have empty buckets, you can get some additional water during the hurricane by filling them with large rocks or bricks and leaving them out in the open to collect the rain water.
Different water sources will be used for different purposes:
bottled, canned, or other store-bought water: Drinking, cooking, and refrigeration (explained later)
Water in unsealed containers: refill the toilet cistern
Water in a sealed containers: bathing and cleaning (Can also be used for the toilet)
As mentioned with food, supplies at your grocer will be reduced but not necessarily empty. You should be able to buy enough additional drinking water and be able to also use it for cleaning, giving you more water for the toilet. The tip about gathering rain water will only work once. There will likely be no rain for at least a week afterward.
In case you need to evacuate
Keep tabs on whatever emergency alerts are available. Check what your local radio channel is or what sites to check online. Make sure you know how to get to your local shelter, including alternate paths in case a road is inaccessible.
Load your vehicle with anything you might need to bring with you before the storm so you don't have to spend time looking for them and double checking when every minute could count. Pack some pillows, blankets, and extra clothes just in case. Also include anything you cannot risk losing for school or work like laptops.
Refrigeration
Without power, your fridge is now just a giant cooler and a ticking bomb to being a biohazard. Fill it up as much as possible. Cold air escapes easily when you open it and heat disperses fastest throw the air. Remember how I said you should buy extra water? A fridge filled with cold water will stay cooler longer. Any liquid will do. Fill your fridge with water bottles, soda cans, beer, fruit juice, whatever. As long as it doesn't spoil at room temperature. Milk can technically help too, but since it spoils you shouldn't keep much of it and should use it quickly.
Additional things like fruits and veggies will also help. What matters is you want to reduce the amount of empty space and fill it with anything which can keep the temperature down. Put a frozen block of iron in for all I care. Just don't have a super empty fridge.
If you have a generator
Good for you. You're not completely without power now. But you need to set priorities on what to use it for. Generators can only supply so much power at a time so you can't just hook everything to it and expect things to work out.
Top priority is the fridge. Twice a day, morning and evening, plug the fridge to the generator and let it run for two hours to cool things down. Don't hook up the fridge when you don't expect to open it (like when everyone is asleep).
Second priority should be charging cell phones, laptops, and anything else like that. Depending on your circumstances, you can charge them at work, from your car, etc so only hook them up when batteries are low.
Third, comfort. I understand this will be stressful, but hooking up your tv and gaming computer isn't the best idea. If you've done what I suggested earlier, you'll at least have something to watch or do without needing to hook it to your generator. Like with the above electronics, you might be able to find other ways to charge them, but only attach them to your generator when you don't need to worry about necessities.
Finally for the love of god, DO NOT HOOK AN AC TO THE GENERATOR!!. Air conditioners draw a lot of power, especially once the room is hot. But your generator can only do so much. The AC will kill your power supply really quickly. Use a fan or the AC in your vehicle if you need to cool down.
Also worth noting, if you have an electric vehicle, that could potentially be used as well. I don't know specifics, but look into that if you own one.
Final notes
This is not comprehensive and I may be wrong about some things.
Please refer to actual expert sources for comprehensive help.
This is just suggestions from someone who has to deal with this every year and has figured out how to deal with the aftermath. Your living conditions may be different so please check how to handle any concerns unique to you.
Stay safe and do not give up hope.
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meazalykov · 7 days ago
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wrong number
bayern munich frauen x reader
1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6
"who are you, and why do you have my number?"
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you've been preparing for this move for what feels like forever.
the idea of leaving your small hometown in virginia to live in munich is both exciting and terrifying. you’ve spent weeks packing your things, saying goodbyes, and trying to mentally prepare yourself for the massive change that’s about to happen. 
sure, you’ve dreamed about studying abroad for a long time. now that it’s here, the reality of it feels overwhelming.
you’re going to be thousands of miles away from home, from everything you’ve ever known. your family is supportive, and your friends have been hyping you up nonstop. yasmeen, your closest friend, has been particularly great about helping you stay grounded, always there to distract you from the “what ifs” when the anxiety gets a little too intense. 
today is one of those days.
the two of you had planned a mall trip—something normal and fun before the whirlwind of final packing and travel arrangements takes over. well, yasmeen says that you need a new closet for munich and you don’t disagree.
it feels good to be doing something so ordinary, especially when you know that soon enough, everything in your life is about to be not-so-ordinary. 
you’ve been to this mall a hundred times with yasmeen, today feels a little more special though. maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware that you won’t have moments like these once you’re in germany.
will you make friends in germany? what if germany turns out horribly? are the people nice? is there xenophobia you might experience due to yourself being american? these thoughts plagued the back of your mind. 
"you’re gonna miss me so much, you know that, right?" yasmeen teases as the two of you walk through the mall’s food court, eyeing the chick-fil-a counter but opting for chipotle instead.
you roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your elbow with the arm that's carrying your aritzia bag. 
"i’ll miss your constant harassment, that’s for sure."
"constant harassment? i’m literally the best thing that ever happened to you!"
"okay, sure," you laugh. 
honestly, yasmeen has been a huge part of your life for the past few years. she was the first person you clicked with back in high school, and now it feels weird to think about going through the next few years without her by your side. 
you’re trying not to dwell on it, though. you’ll still have facetime, you tell yourself. 
after grabbing and eating your rice bowls, you both head toward the stores. it’s one of those days where everything feels easy—there’s no pressure to buy anything. you did though obviously.
at one point, yasmeen holds up a bright red kit with a smirk.
"ouu a bayern munich kittt. you should totally buy it, you will fit in with the munich community."
you tilt your head, laughing. 
"what is that? i don’t even watch soccer."
"woah! you better once you hit germany– i heard soccer to them is like how the nfl is to americans."
you shake your head but decide to try it on anyway. yasmeen snaps a photo and tells you that you look like you’re about to cheer for some random german soccer team. 
you don’t think much of it and put the jersey back, moving on to the next store.
as the day goes on, you feel a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. it’s nice being here, with your best friend, doing normal things, but there’s a part of you that’s itching to start this next chapter of your life. 
it’s like you’re stuck in this weird limbo between your old life and the new one that’s waiting for you on the other side of the world.
eventually, after several hours of shopping, you realize your phone had died. you don’t even remember when it happened. 
you’ve been so caught up in the moment with yasmeen that you didn’t notice the battery draining.
"ugh, my phone’s dead," you say, glancing at the blank screen.
yasmeen shrugs. 
"mine’s still good. if anything, i can call you an uber."
"nah, i’m good. i’ll just charge it when i get home."
you both grab shoes at birkenstock before say your goodbyes outside the mall. yasmeen gives you an extra tight hug. 
"don’t get caught up with your european friends and forgetting about me, okay?"
"never," you promise.
when you get home, you immediately plug your phone into the charger and head straight to the shower. 
the hot water feels good against your skin, washing away the stress of the day. you’ve got so much on your mind—packing, travel plans, what your life is going to look like in a few weeks—but right now, standing under the stream of water, you feel calm. 
you let your thoughts drift away and focus on the simple rhythm of the water hitting your shoulders.
when you finally get out of the shower, you feel refreshed, like maybe you can tackle all the things on your to-do list without getting overwhelmed.
when you grab your phone and take it off of your charger, you notice something strange. 
it’s blowing up with notifications. you squint at the screen, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 
there’s a new group chat, and it’s filled with numbers you don’t recognize.
confused, you open the messages. the chat is already deep into a conversation about something, but none of it makes sense to you.
+49 176 1234567: pernille you’re AMAZING wtf was that!!!!????? 
+49 171 7654321: arsenals defense during this match had nothing on you or syd holy shit
your brows furrow. arsenal? match? what are they talking about? you know absolutely nothing about this conversation. 
hell, you’re not even sure what country arsenal plays for. the confusion only grows as you scroll up to see more of the conversation.
you: hi?
almost immediately, your message is met with a flood of responses.
+49 171 7654321: giulia! finally! where have you been?
+49 178 1233567: we’ve been trying to reach all day, i know we had no training but are you okay?
your heart skips a beat. giulia? who the hell is giulia? you’ve definitely never gone by that name.
you: uh, i think you’ve got the wrong number. i’m not giulia.
for a moment, the chat goes silent. you stare at your phone, wondering if you should just leave the group.
before you can, a new message pops up.
+49 176 1234567: wait, what?
+49 171 7654321: did we add the wrong number again?
+49 171 11122222: sydney, you’re an idiot. you added the wrong number!
there’s a pause before a new number is added to the group.
+49 152 3334444: you guys finally added me.
you assume this is the real giulia. still, no one seems to be kicking you out of the chat, and before you know it, the conversation picks up again.
+49 176 1234567: giulia, you missed our whole debate about the arsenal match.
+49 171 7654321: yeah, and we were saying bayern needs to keep it up for juventus.
you stare at your phone, more confused than ever. arsenal, bayern… these are clearly soccer teams, but why are they talking to you? you don’t even watch soccer. eventually, you decide to chime in.
you: um?? i have no idea what any of you are talking about. 
this time, the chat explodes with messages.
+49 171 7654321: what?!
+49 176 1234567: how do you not know bayern munich?
+49 175 7778888: do you watch fusball? 
+49 171 1112222: okay, who are you?
+44 177 9900000: ok guys that makes me feel better about this not being a crazy fan.
+49 170 4479173: i agree with georgia 
you explain your situation—that you’re a 21-year-old college student from virginia, and you somehow got added to this group chat by mistake. 
you tell them about your upcoming move to munich for your study abroad program, hoping to clear up the confusion.
+49 152 3334444: wait… you’re moving to munich? like… munich, germany?
+49 171 7654321: that’s insane omg we all live in munich.
+44 171 9900000: wtffff 
+49 176 1234567: this is such a weird coincidence.
you blink at your screen. this is getting stranger by the second. what are the odds that you’d get added to a random group chat full of people who live in the exact city you’re about to move to?
+49 171 1112222: okay, but how do we know you’re not some creepy dude pretending to be a girl?
+49 172 4567389: LMAO LENA 
+57 170 9193831: wait… 
you roll your eyes at the suspicion but understand why they might be cautious. so, you send them your instagram handle to prove you’re real. 
you: ew, i am not some old dude. @ y/n.l/n is my insta, just me out for yourselves.
after a few minutes, messages start pouring in again.
+49 152 3334444: yep, she’s legit.
+49 176 1234567: okay, cool. she seems sweet.
+49 171 9718193: guys laura would love her photography skills
you: who’s laura
+49 171 9900000: someone from the german national team. she plays in frankfurt
+44 177 9900000: this is so cool idky why.. usually i’d be freaked out
a few new followers pop up on your instagram notifications, and you open the app to check. you almost drop your phone when you see that some of the accounts following you are verified. 
*sydneylohmann is now following you*
and another 
*georgiastanway is now following you* 
*tuvahansen is now following you* 
and more.. 
*leaschuller is now following you* 
*lenaoberdorf is now following you* 
*kathi.ng is now following you* 
*pharder10 is now following you*
*guzman013_ is now following you* 
*sarahzadrazil25 is now following you* 
now it seems like the whole team is catching on.. 
*buehlklara is now following you* 
*magdalenaeriksson26 is now following you* 
*magou_doucoure is now following you* 
*dahmannlinda is now following you* 
it's until you do a quick google search that you realize who they are.
they’re professional soccer players.
you sit there, staring at your phone, completely in shock. you’ve somehow stumbled into a group chat full of actual women’s soccer players. 
trying to play it cool, you decide to treat them like normal people.
after all, you don’t even know anything about soccer, so it’s not like you’re going to fan out over them.
you: so, what are your names? i want to save your numbers because all of the unsaved numbers are overwhelming haha 
they go around introducing themselves, and you quickly type their names into your phone, saving each number under the name they give you.
+49 152 3334444: i’m giulia
+49 171 7654321: sydney
+44 177 9900000: georgia s 
+49 179 7777777: lea 
+57 170 9193831: ana g. there’s two ana’s so i’d add the last name letter to tell the difference 💜
it’s surreal, somehow you find yourself chatting with them like they’re any other group of girls you’d meet in a random group chat. 
they even start to warm up to you after a few days, especially after you tell them more about your move to munich. 
a few of them offer to show you around the city once you get there.
georgia: honestly, munich’s great. you’re going to love it.
sydney: we can help you find all the best spots.
lena: i can definitely ☺️
lea: lena you just moved here from wolfsburg.. 
lena: lea shushhhh 🙄
pernille: ??? 
you smile at your phone, feeling a little less nervous about the move. it’s strange, but you’re actually starting to look forward to meeting these girls in person. 
sure, they’re professional soccer players, but they’re also just… normal people. and they seem to like you.
as the chat continues, you get the sense that they trust you. maybe it’s because of your instagram or the way you’ve been honest with them from the start, but whatever it is, they don’t seem to mind that you accidentally got added to their group. 
in fact, they seem to enjoy having you around.
klara: you seem chill. i know its been a week since you’ve been added but do you promise to keep our secrets safe? 
lena: ^
you: i promise. i like you guys! 
it’s not every day you accidentally make friends with a group of famous athletes, but somehow, that’s exactly what’s happened. 
as strange as it is, you’re kind of excited about it.
part two here
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captainzigo · 5 months ago
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so unfortunately very few entries here are going to properly be vintage. also what i consider vintage might not line up with what you do. i am not old.
also i am not wealthy. and my family isn’t wealthy. this is an expensive hobby to have. i get most of my stuff from loving it and refusing to throw it away… and digging through the trash at university. you would be surprised with the stuff people throw away. planned obsolescence has nothing on the fact that people can’t be bothered to fix a sour harddrive.
i actually fix computers as a sort of second job. it’s nice to work on computers i can’t afford and that aren’t from the trash. but i love old tech. i love breathing life in to things long dead. i’m a technonecromancer. i am not including pictures of things i haven’t finished yet for the most part. and i simply am not including most things. this is but a fraction of my power
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ok so these are all my computers that work. i didn’t include ones that im still working on. they all worked but needed repairs variously. mostly they just needed new hard drives.
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my game consoles. again not including ones that don’t work. i actually bought that 3ds, but the rest my parents gave me after they got them used. that gameboy has needed a screen replacement that required soldering. the ds is my little trooper and has needed nothing ever. the wii needed a new disc drive. and the 3ds came in japanese and i hacked it to english.
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there’s a back view of my stickers
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these are some of my various devices. again not including ones that don’t work. that nano needed a new battery which was actual hell and i’m surprised it survived. that ipad is the first ipad and she works beautifully and one time i fastened it to my tummy for a tellytubby costume. i was slutty lala and i played the old spiderman movie trilogy in glorious VHS quality. i couldn’t find my iphone 3gs for this picture :( but it will turn up. i’ll include an old picture instead of cleaning my room to find it lol
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here are some novelties i just like. thats an old radio i swiped from my great grandfather. i got it working but it broke again. i dont know whats wrong with it and its so old that the parts are impossible to find. on the right is the browser for DS which is just so quaint. i love it. it barely works at all but i loaded a wikipedia page one time so xP
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this is my terrible stupid tiny phone i got from aliexpress that barely works BUT IT DOES WORK and is technically loaded with all modern smartphone features. i attached a video of it barely playing roblox
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this is my og imac. with the og keyboard. i didn’t include it with the working computers because it doesn’t. the harddrive died and im trying to fix it but its really hard. i’ve already sought out two different adapters that haven’t worked
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and this is a commodore 64 that i also got out of the trash. it does not work but im hoping to make it work. someone clearly loved it. enough to paint it crazy colors and enough to
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write some weird scifi quote on the inside of the case under the RF shield. but maybe they died, or it just became too much of an undertaking.
not included here is:
• several more apple products that i just don’t think look good. all the iphones between 6 and 11 are just so ugly. and i don’t actually like the way apple watches look
• the phone, tablet, and smart watch i actively use
• various bits and bobs like the official speakers for a imac 4, an electronic pocket dictionary, various wii peripherals and so on
• all of my audio equipment
• my iphone 3gs. i just never found it or any pictures of it. i love it tho. it was my first phone (hand me down. i’m not that old) and i have had to repair it so many times and i love taking bad photos with it
• all of my monitors
• my many videogames
• my old fridge that i love and cherish and use
• anything i have fixed and then given to someone else
• a bunch of other stuff
so if you are a beautiful trans woman, are you in love with me yet? or do i need to make a part two
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axnrxn · 2 years ago
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Being their squadmate (König, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish) x GN! reader
TW: lots of angst for certain characters (marked w/ *), fluff?, mentions of violence/torture, knives
I made all of these stories distinctly different (as much as I could imagine, at least). These won’t have identical starting or ending points. Not everything has a particularly happy or hot ending, these are just my thoughts on the relationships these characters would form. Extra TW for Ghost and Alejandro, they’re mostly angst and violence. You’ve been warned.
König
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It’s your first time working with König, you immediately took interest in him due to how much he literally stood out from the crowd
You were assigned to his unit as a sniper, only to be used on stealthier missions
This immediately put you on König’s radar, the man is still sour about being too large to be considered for a sniper
On your first day, König approaches you silently while you’re eating alone
He takes a seat next to you and simply says, “so you’re a sniper, ja?”
He doesn’t give a chance to respond before continuing “you know, I wanted to be a sniper too, but they told me I’d be of better use as their human battering ram”, finishing his sentence in a bitter tone
You turn to him, ignoring his tone and smile as you reply, “well, then that makes us a perfect team. I’m (Y/C/N). I’ll be watching your six.” and you hold out your hand.
“König.” he replies quickly, his bitterness no longer present as he is taking your hand in an extremely light hold, you assume because he is unsure how much pressure to apply without cursing your hand in his own.
From the first shake, you and König become fast friends
During missions, you keep your promise, saving König a handful of times from being flanked by enemy combatants.
Outside of missions, you let König use your rifle and discover that he actually does have a talent for sniping. Several soldiers gather around to watch him shoot empty canisters off the hillside. He seems thrilled to be given the chance to show off, little do you know it’s because he wants to impress you.
One day, he approaches your quarters after a particularly intense mission that ended with you being held at knifepoint by a man that crept up on your sniper’s perch. König had sniped the man with another rifle from across the field, saving your life.
He lightly knocked on your door, startled by you instantly opening the door (you heard his footsteps coming from around the corner, unmistakable given his size).
“Hey” you said softly. “uhmm, thanks. For today. For everything…” you rambled.
“For everything?” he asked
“Yeah… not just today, even though you literally saved my life. For everything, you being there, always having my back…” you cut yourself off and dove for his midsection, securing him in a hug.
His back tensed a bit before he relaxed into your hold, draping his arms over your shoulders.
“I’ll always have your six, mein schatz” he whispered into your hair.
Simon “Ghost” Riley *
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You have worked with Ghost several times in the past as part of the US Intelligence
It is your first time on the ground, however. Ghost greets you about how you’d expect.
“Thrown from your ivory tower to get it on with us peasants, hm?”
You scoff before replying, “more like supervising daddy’s kids for the week, lieutenant”
He grumbles a bit before settling on saying, “Well, just don’t get in our way, yeah?”
You’re assigned to recon and penetration testing servers associated with El Sin Nombre. Your work requires you to physically access the servers rather than your usual remote gig, forcing you to be escorted by 141 to your targets.
Your lack of combat experience is made up for in your deviousness when it comes to chemistry and tech knowledge. A few household cleaners or phone batteries and you’re golden.
Ghost often mumbles things along the lines of, “being on babysitting duty” when escorting you during missions, but you always fire back with the fact that you’re “141’s only technologically literate member”.
Soap gets offended before you remind him that you showed him how to send an ‘invisible’ text over iMessage two days prior.
Despite repeatedly voicing his disdain for you, Ghost finds himself caring for you more and more.
Simon realizes that he’s been disguising his care for you by complaining about your presence. He’s afraid to lose you now, and that realization strikes fear into his cold heart. 
Following this realization, Simon will distance himself from you as much as he can, remaining quiet on missions.
You notice the change in his demeanor and eventually can’t take him ignoring you as much as the missions allow, so you confront him outside his quarters following almost being discovered during a recon mission.
You knock at his door and straighten your posture as you wait.
After what seems like a minute, the door cracks open to reveal a sliver of the skull mask you’ve become so familiar with.
“Simon, you know why I want to talk. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but I want to clear the air between us.” You said, glad you had rehearsed your sentence previously, as his eyes stare you down from behind the skull mask.
“Mmph, got no idea what you’re on about” he replied shortly, already starting to close the door.
“Wait!” you said, sticking your foot in the door. “Come on, Simon. Don’t bullshit me.”
He stared at you for a minute, and you refused to look away from his intense gaze. He finally sighed and opened the door to his bare quarters.
“Well, sit down and let’s talk.”
Alejandro Vargas *
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You’re an informant for Alejandro
He saved your life years ago, and you have been grateful to him ever since.
Meeting with Alejandro is rare and dangerous for you both, so you savor every moment you get to see him
Alejandro serves as your beacon of hope, a contrast to your daily life as a sicario for El Sin Nombre.
Because you wear your heart on your sleeve, Alejandro plays into your obvious desires for safety and belonging to get more information out of you. He knows it’s wrong to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable, but a part of him really does care about you and means what he says.
He promises you that you can stay with him after he takes down El Sin Nombre. Deep down, he knows that you probably won’t live that long. He hopes his promise keeps you alive somehow, though.
One day, you’re caught on camera meeting Alejandro in an alleyway of Irapuato by a man working for El Sin Nombre.
You don’t find out you’ve been caught until you’re on your way home and get jumped. You’re blackbagged and thrown into a van in broad daylight. You know what’s in store for you, wishing you’d simply been disposed of instead. But you’re not one of the lucky ones.
By the time 141 and Los Vaqueros find you, you’re worse for wear. New, large scars now adorn your entire face and body. But they don’t match the ones left on your mind.
After about two weeks of healing in the infirmary, you’re finally released into Alejandro’s care. He makes sure someone is by your side around the clock, but tries his best to make sure it’s usually him. He knows he’s responsible for what happened to you.
When you finally come back to reality somewhat, you cry. You cry seeing the state you’re in, you cry because you know you’ve outlived your purpose to feed information to Los Vaqueros.
Alejandro comforts you, providing you a shoulder to cry on as he tries to be strong for you. It breaks him inside to know he caused this pain.
Eventually, he lets you move into his quarters, so he can help you cope with your nightmares. You don’t want to burden him, but the pleading look in his eyes convinces you that he genuinely wants to look after you.
Rudy takes care of you when Alejandro is not present. Alejandro told him that you just need time and patience, but your wounds will heal.
After a year, you finally work through your war-torn mind. You start looking for revenge. Alejandro is more than happy to aim you at his targets.
He smiles as he watches you finally join his team. He knows you’ll be loyal til the end, til you get your revenge. He loves the anger that invigorates you and drives you forward, seeing you become strong and resilient. He feels a sense of pride and something else. An indescribable attraction to the firebrand you’ve become.
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
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You’re well-acquainted with the members of 141, tending to their wounds when the opportunity arises.
Johnny often indulges in with your dark humor, something you’ve missed from your days as a civilian EMT.
Within your first few weeks in 141, you and Johnny are joined at the hip.
Sticking together whenever you can on missions, always talking with one another outside of missions, eating meals together, training together
During a training session, you suggest to Johnny that you grapple with one another
Within a few seconds, Johnny realizes he’s no match for your clear prior experience.
“And where’d all that come from?” he asked, bewildered by how quickly you got him into an arm bar.
“My dad was really into self-defense stuff, so guess who ended up being put into Brazilian jiujitsu classes from age 9?” you replied coolly. He laughed a bit before getting up for another go.
You two trained a lot more after that, Johnny teaching you more about sparring as you taught him more about BJJ. 
Eventually, one of your training sessions turned into something more.
You were on top of Johnny, pinning his arms above his head as he attempted to shove you off with his legs behind you. You didn’t budge.
Suddenly, he stopped struggling and smiled up at you.
“Looks like you’ve got me,” he said, smiling up at you.
“Hmm, it seems I do. So what should I do now?” You asked coyly.
“Winner takes all, yeah?” Johnny replied.
Wordlessly, you leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips. The first kiss between you two. He groaned a bit into it, shifting underneath you. You took the opportunity to push down onto him further and deepen the kiss.
Finally, you pulled away and released his wrists from your grasp. His hands immediately found your waist. He used his newly established position to flip you two, landing you on your back, caged between his thighs.
“My turn,” he said smugly, leaning in once more.
Let me know what you think. If you’re interested in any of these ideas as an independent story, oneshot, etc. you can send in a request.
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rafferty3207 · 1 year ago
Note
not to be impatient or ungrateful but too good to be true part 3 when 😩
its funny you say that today of all days bestie
Too Good to Be True (part three)
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warning: fem!reader, passing mention of creepy dude, angst (but only at the beginning dw), then tooth rotting fluff
A/N: I hope you like this ending! in my mind this is done but not over - I will definitely be doing drabbles of this pair in future, but for now I hope you enjoy!
____
part one | part two
“Oi, prick, are you even paying attention?” Roy barks at Jamie, who is sitting staring at his phone.
“Er, yeah, coach, it’s just -just-”
“Just what? Spit it out?”
“How do ya access your voicemails?”
“Jamie. What the fuck are you talking about?”
He holds up the screen to Roy’s face.
You have a new voicemail.
“Jamie, I wouldn’t worry about it, it's probably some berk trying to sell you organic viagra or something. Now please can we get back to the football?”
“I just need to check Coach. To make sure of…something, but I’ve never listened to a voicemail before.”
“Christ you find new ways to make me feel old Jamie.” But before he can make another comment, Roy notices the sad look in Jamie’s eyes. He hasn’t been his usual irritating self this morning, no sassy quips or anything, and he looks like he’s barely slept. “Who are you expecting a voicemail from?”
Jamie looks up at him with those puppy dog eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s that girl isn’t it? What did you do now, you silly twat?” 
“I didn’t do anything. I mean I kissed her -”
“Oh my god, that Simone Biles bollocks was about her wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but it's an inside joke-”
“Hand me the phone.”
“Er, I dunno-”
“Just give it, Jamie.” Jamie reluctantly passes it over. “You dial a three digit number, which will access your number. You’re on the same network as me so-” Roy types the digits and hands it back. “But once you’re done, you’re doing 50 press ups for wasting my fucking time.” Roy goes into another room.
Jamie raises the phone to his ear tentatively. Of course, it’s you.
___
The gallery session had been, in polite terms, a complete shit show. You were late because you couldn’t figure out how to get into the building, then you couldn't find some of the papers with your plan on them, and therefore you spent several hours using what little you have of your phone battery to try and improvise a plan from your memories. You’re finally done, but by this point it’s almost midnight.
“This is your first exhibition, isn’t it?” Simon, the gallery owner looks at you hunched over, shoving the papers back in the bag.
“Yeah, how did you guess? Don’t answer that, that was sarcasm.” You say, continuing to scramble. “So what’s happening PR wise? Are we sending press releases, inviting reviewers, that sort of thing?”
Simon scoffs. 
“What? I get it I'm a nobody, but what about the big Emin retrospective you’ve got coming up in October? I’ve seen posters for that everywhere.”
“That’s pretty much all her team. Besides, when you’re Emin you don’t need the PR really. Of course, we’ll do our best and we’ve got it on our website and social media of course, but our comms person resigned so at the moment we’re a rather limited team. This is such a short period, it’s an interim show. It’s why we could offer it, but you knew that right?”
“Mhmm, yeah, of course.” You say, biting your lip. You don’t know what you expected, instead wearily picking up your bag.
“Right, I best head off, but I’ll see you in two days!” You power walk off while your voice can still sound fake cheerful. Now how do I go back from here? You wonder, pulling your phone out.
Of course, it dies at that very moment.
“Shit!”
___
You eventually manage to navigate home, although the walk takes three times as long especially after one man seems to walk right behind you for ages until you get to the high street and the tube stops running mid way through, so you have to persuade a nice older woman to look up the bus route on her phone. As you walk into your house and flop onto the couch, you remember.
Jamie.
Fuck. You hoped he didn’t take your note the wrong way. You plug your phone in and sit huddled until the screen turns back on.
11 missed calls. 13 messages.
hey Simone xoxo
out at drinks at the moment but I’ll be back asap xoxo
theres a cocktail i think you’d like here  xoxo
on my way home now! xoxo
where are you xoxo
u alright
u ok???
Where are you??
Just let me know ur home safe (or dont if u dont want to)
Im not asking to be creepy sorry if it came off like that
Im sorry if i scared you off
i shouldn’t have kissed you
Lets just forget it happened
Sorry again
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Let’s just forget it happened. You felt sick to your stomach. You picked up the phone with incredibly shaky hands and pressed the dial button.
_____
“Er, hey Jamie, it’s me. Sorry to leave you a voicemail, it feels old school doesn’t it? I don’t even know how to listen to my own voicemails, not sure why I’m sending you one. Well I do, I’ve rung a few times and you’re not picking up and everytime I try and say what I want in a text it comes off wrong - ugh, sorry I’m rambling. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t reply, my phone has been dead the whole way home and I had to try and find my way back and the tube is shit and buses are shit and all I wanted was for you to come and pick me up in that ugly orange car of yours but I couldn’t. So that’s that. Did you get my note? I completely forgot but I had the exhibition planning session today and everything that could possibly go wrong did and it’s been a fucking nightmare and to be honest Jamie, I don’t know why I’m doing it anymore. I thought this was my one chance to finally become a big shot artist but it turns out I have to market it basically all by myself and I have no time and know barely anyone so let’s be honest, no one is going to come and it will all be forgotten about and I will prove once again I am the failure my father thinks I am.”
Jamie hears a shuddering intake of breath.
“Sorry, I’m rambling again. I’m sorry Jamie. I really did mean to wait for you. I’ve still got your shirt and everything. It’s just, I’m so stressed and I need to finish these paintings but also why should I finish these paintings but also I want them to be perfect and - and - and I don’t want to do this over voicemail but I don’t want to forget about us but also I have so much work to do and I’m so fucked -”
Jamie listens to you choke down a sob, before sniffing.
“I have to go, but call me back or something. Or maybe I could see you at the exhibit? You’ll probably be the only one attending. Goodbye, Jamie. Sorry again.”
Jamie’s heart was breaking, but not in the way he expected. You were so strong for him but all the while there you were, clearly dealing with your own shit and struggling and he hadn’t even noticed. He hated the idea that he had made things worse.
Now, he knew what he had to do.
___
It is the opening night of the exhibit and you are adjusting your hair for the fiftieth time. The gallery had extended their publicity to a small private view with a few glasses of wine and bottles of beer, but that was it. So you had spent the last three days painting almost non-stop, sending the invitations to everyone you know and barely sleeping. You just hoped your makeup would cover the dark circles under your eyes. You had worn your favourite dress and done your hair especially so you would at least feel like the real deal, but that was quickly waning. 
It had been fifteen minutes and not one single person had showed up. The one event staff was already looking at you as if to ask whether they could go home early. You started to look at your phone while downing the glass of wine in your hand. Still not a word from Jamie. You hadn’t heard from him since you sent the voicemail and you felt embarrassed just thinking about it. It seemed like you were going to need more wine.
But then, a man enters. He is wiry, with a blazer and a glorious grey and black shoulder length mane. He is holding a notebook and looking around keenly. You have no fucking idea who he is.
“Can I help you?”
“Ah yes, I’m Trent Crimm.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
“I’m here for the exhibit Everything In Its Right Place.” You nod, dumbstruck. “Ah, great, don’t mind me.”
You watch him as he looks at each painting before scribbling in his notepad. That was strange.
After him walks in one of the most beautiful women you have seen, followed by a small man wearing glasses.
“Hello, welcome to the Private View!” You say a little bit too loudly, and you worry that the wine may have gone to your head. The woman leans over to you and of course she smells beautiful too. “Hello, I’m Rebecca. Is it alright if some of my friends come in too?”
“Absolutely, the more the merrier!”
A couple more glamorous women file in, as well as some fancy looking older gentlemen in suits. Behind them is a colourful blond haired woman with an Essex accent and a very fluffy jacket, talking about how her PR firm which is on the hunt for new talent. You made a mental note to talk to her later, and as you do she looks over at you and winks, which makes you feel flustered. 
The events staff comes over.
“Are they on the guest list?”
“Oh yeah.” You keenly nod, hoping they are not paid enough to grass you up.
And then walks in a very familiar moustachioed man.
“Why, you must be the modern Louise Bourgeois our Jamie has been speaking so highly of.” You don’t expect the honeyed Southern twang and you find yourself blushing. He’s more handsome than the small picture by Jamie’s bed gave away.
“I wish! Although Jamie knew who Louise Bourgeois was?”
“I mean, I think he is more of a Georgia O’Keefe guy. But I love old Lou Lou. Art is a guarantee-”
“Of sanity. Very impressive -?”
“Theodore Lasso, at your service ma’am. Although my friends call me Ted.”
“Are we friends?”
“I sure hope to be. Jamie will not stop going on about how great you are, so I thought I best see it in person myself.” He offers a hand and you feel yourself go even redder.
“Well, it is lovely to make your acquaintance, Ted.” 
You see Trent’s head has whipped around this point and he is striding towards Ted.
“Ted you’re going to love these paintings -” Trend hooks his arm in Teds and Ted waves you a goodbye as he is quickly dragged off. 
You see all of Jamie’s teammates file in after Ted, including Roy who gives you a little nod. They have all brought people with them, including some women who you swear might be famous models, and before long the room is densely packed. You can’t believe it. You even have a few people come up to you to ask for interviews, and once the Trent man has sufficiently shown Ted around the room several times over, he asks if you want to be profiled for one of the big papers.
“I’ve always liked highlighting promising new talent in any field, and I feel you’d be a great match.” He smiles at you and you feel your stomach start to fizz. The one waiter who has been frantically pouring drinks for the last half hour runs over to you.
“A couple of people want to buy the paintings, are they for sale?”
“All the ones without red dots are, yeah.”
“How much do they cost?”
“How much are they willing to pay?” The waiter runs off and comes back, handing a long list of offers. Your eyes boggle at the amount.
“Fuck me.”
“Someone said they wanted to snap you up before Satchel did or something?”
“I assume they mean Saatchi.” The waiter shrugs. “Call Simon, he’ll help with the sales.
“I don’t think he’ll pick-”
“Send him a picture of the offers. He’ll definitely pick up.”
The waiter hurries off and you stare at the piece of paper. You can’t believe all this is happening. But you still check your phone.
Are you coming?
No reply.
“Ted? I don’t suppose you heard anything from Jamie did you?”
He smiles and taps his nose.
“I’m afraid I was sworn to secrecy.”
You get back to your wine. That would be a weird response if he had told Ted he never wanted to see you again. But the whole day was starting to feel very weird. You decided to pop out for some fresh air.  However, as you walk outside you see a very familiar orange car parked outside. In the driver's seat is Jamie in a suit, holding flowers, staring at his phone.
“You know, I didn't order an Uber.”
Jamie jumps.
“Jesus woman, you nearly scared the living daylights out of me!”
“I could say the same of you. Can I come in?”
He gestures to the seat next to him. You walk around and slide into the car. 
“You look stunning.” Jamie says, looking over you and you suddenly feel very naked in this dress.
“Thanks. It’s certainly an improvement from when you usually pick me up.” You fiddle with your hem. “So can you tell me why you’re sitting outside my exhibit instead of going inside? You’re the only person here who is actually on the guest list.”
He looks back down at the flowers.
“I dunno. I guess I was worried you might not want to see me after, y'know" He nods his head towards you. The kiss. Before you can reply, he starts talking again. "That’s why I got everyone else here first.”
“This was all you?”
He looks out the front of the window.
“I mean the boys wanted to come anyway, but I spoke to Rebecca and Ted and Keeley. It was Ted’s idea to invite Trent, because he knows lots of people at papers, and Keeley knows people through her firm and Rebecca knows loads of rich guys because I dunno, she’s rich and fit -”
You reach over and gently touch his arm.
“Thank you Jamie, this means a lot - ”
“Any time. I just want you to be happy, you know?” You grip his arm a little tighter.
 “But you didn’t have to do any of this. I would have been happy if you were the only person who showed up.” Jamie finally looks at you. You just stare at each other for a moment, saying nothing. At this point you reach over and tenderly place your lips on his. He doesn't resist, immediately putting his hand on the side of your neck. Your hands start wandering down his torso before he pulls away suddenly.
“I don't want you thinking I'm trying to buy you or something. Me and Roy watched Pretty Woman the other week but I swear-"
"I know Jamie. Besides, you haven't even bought a painting yet." You try to laugh him off but he holds you firm.
"I just want you to remember you earned this. You are really, really talented, it's just - it's just everyone needs help sometimes"
You are suddenly struck silent for a moment, your eyes watering.
"Ah fuck, I didn't want to make you cry again!"
You sniff. "This is good crying though, I swear! I just never realised you were so wise."
"Oi you cheeky mare, I'm trying to be nice!" You both laugh, before he reaches over and threads his fingers between yours. "I think I’m in love with you, you know?"
He looks up at you, uncertain. Your stomach is fizzing, but in a way that makes you feel like you could fly. You smile.
"I know. The thing is, I'm in love with you too, Jamie Tartt." You stare at each other, before your lips crash into each other, your hands crawling all over your torsos and necks, your breathing becoming more ragged before Jamie pulls away again.
"Now come on you, this is your big night, remember. We better get inside before we have to go right here in the back like a pair of teenagers."
You place a hand on his thigh. "I mean, that sounds good to me."
""You are gonna be the death of me, I swear." He opens the car door. 
"Actually, to be fair there is one painting I think you should see."
The two of you stroll into the gallery holding hands.
"Fucking finally." Roy exclaims, before patting Jamie on the shoulder. "Now don't fuck it up Jamie, I like this one." You and Roy share a smile. You felt like you had something to thank him for, but you weren’t sure what.
"I see you met Jamie." You turn around to see a small old woman in colourful clothing.
“Sylvia? What are you doing here, I thought you weren’t back for another week?”
Sylvia gestures to a handsome older gentleman in the corner “Of course I had to see your exhibit darling! Now don’t worry darling, I’m staying with one of my good friends.” She winks before leaning in conspiratorially. “You’ll have the flat all to yourself.”
“Sylvia!” You swat her arm.
“What? Your mother told me you were going through a dry spell. I’m just so glad you and Jamie finally got to meet.”
Your mouth is agape. You said that months and months ago -
“Jamie darling, it's so nice to see you again!” Sylvia airkisses Jamie, before swanning off. You lean into the crook of Jamie's shoulder. You’d say you hate how natural it feels, but you fucking love it.
“Do you think Sylvia set this whole thing up? Between you and me?”
“Well, she did keep telling me she knew the perfect woman for me, with a fantastic arse-”
“Jamie!” You poke his cheek. “Although speaking of fantastic arse, let me show you my painting!” You drag him over to the biggest painting in the room. It is rich and vibrant and while somewhat abstract, almost definitely a nude. “What do you think?”
“I think it will be perfect in my living room. Well, almost perfect.”
“Almost? What else could be more perfect than this?” You gesture to the bum cheeks.
Jamie rolls his head as if mulling it over.
“You?”
You roll your eyes. “Oh my god Jamie Tartt, where did you pick up such a naff line? You’re lucky you are very handsome.” You reach up to kiss him, your fingers brushing his neck and jaw. and he leans to whisper in your ear. 
“You know, now you’re gonna be a famous artist now, someone may actually try to kidnap you. You might need some form of security.”
“True. Do you know anyone?”
“No.” You laugh. “But I do know an excellent driver. And he does know a lot of excellent private spots.”
“How soon can he start?”
“How about right now?” You take his hand in yours.
“Sounds perfect to me.”
---
Ah hope you all enjoyed this two silly billys in love! Pls send me requests of any headcanons/drabbles you'd be interested in seeing that I can bash out while working on this new juicy Roy Kent fic!!
@thebookwormlife @taytaylala12 @eugene-emt-roe @skewcherries @okkkkkkkksure @beingalive1 @gothicwidowsworld @atjamesbbarnes @e-mmygrey
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whohasthecards · 1 year ago
Text
Top Gun Coffee Shop plus other stuff AU Idea (Part 1)
Jake moves to California to start a new life and starts working as a barista in a coffee shop.
The shop owners are Iceman and Maverick, who runs it with their son, Rooster, who manages the books and a lot of the behind the scenes stuff. Phoenix is the general manager, and Bob is the other barista/event coordinator.
The coffee shop is a front for the real business of them participating in information brokerage, middle man, forgery, smuggling, and other underworld business.
There are a series of different interesting customers that come in, and the staff are surprised that Jake just rolls with it. They're confused on how stuff doesn't faze him, they think he might already be on to their business, but nope, he's way too focus on making coffee great and learning how to cook pastries.
(A very tall man with a slightly beat down suit and a small scratch on his cheek came in. He was shifting his weight between two feet, making sure that the bag he came in with was hidden behind his back.
"Hello there, welcome to the Top Flight Cafe, where we may not offer flights, but our coffee can send you to the moon, what can I get for ya?" Jake drawled barely giving the man a glance before scowling back at the POS system.
"They don't do flights, anymore? What happen to the shipments?" The man asked confused as he squinted at Jake.
"I dunno, sir, you gotta ask Mr. Bradshaw about that one, but I'm pretty sure we don't do supply shipments ourselves, a truck comes with the flour and all the imported coffee goods," Jake said, shrugging. "All I do is help carry them on my shoulder to the back and count 'em, that's all.
"You guys transport the flour on regular flour bags," the man's voice said incredulously, stressing the word flour too much for Jake's understanding.
"I mean, what else are we gonna use?" Jake asked, raising a brow. "If ya really wanna know, you can call Mr. Bradshaw, but aside from that what can I get for ya?"
"Hey Jake, I'll take this customer back in my office, he's my guy, did you take his order, yet?" Mav said bursting from the back of the bakery as he speed-walked towards the counter flashing an awkward smile between the two of them. "He's new, he didn't know to bring you directly to me," Mav said.
"Not yet, Mav," Jake said.
"Yeah, what do you want, our meeting may take a while," Mav said glancing at the other man.
"Uh huh," the man said, squinting suspiciously, "An espresso would be fine, Mav," the other man, said.
"And I'll have a double shot espresso and an everything bagel with strawberry cream cheese and bacon," Mav said cheerfully rounding the counter and clapping the other man on the shoulder. "Leave the goods on the employee's break room table, me and Sli will catch up, no need to ring him up," Mav said steering the taller man away.
It was comical to see how the much taller man let him.
"I don't want to catch up with you, I wanted Ice," the man name 'Sli' said with a sigh. Almost like he's pouting.
"Tough luck, we're a two in one deal," Mav said as they walked through the back area.
Jake shrugged and made the order. Mav always had chaotic orders.)
---
He's so focused on doing his job, that he manages to miss some telling signs that the coffee shop wasn't just a coffee shop.
("Hey Bradley," Jake says bursting into the managers office, darting forward to the supplies closet without a glance towards his general manager. "Do we have anymore markers? We ran out, and writing with a pen on cups is annoying." Jake said opening the closet widely and rummaging through it.
Bradley immediately muttered something in another language on the phone before hanging up, shutting several folders, and shoving papers down his suitcase and into some of the desk drawers.
"Yeah, buddy, I think they're behind the box of batteries--"
"Found them, thanks, man," Jake said barely even glancing his way as he waved before he went out.
Making Bradley's efforts useless, but better safe than sorry, right?
He really should start putting the supplies closet outside the office.)
---
Javy, Mickey, and Reuben visit Jake and they seem to be wary of the coffee shop. Jake shrugs them off because he's starting to really like the place and the job he's steadily getting good at.
("I don't burn the coffee all the time, anymore, man!" Jake said smiling widely as he handed Javy a cup.
"I'm so proud of you, buddy." Javy said in a deadpan as he sipped his coffee. "Do you know how to froth milk, now?"
"Yeah, Ice taught me during my first day," Jake said smiling brightly.
"Ice, huh?" Payback said muttering to himself.
"Yeah, they apparently have weird nicknames, his is Iceman," Jake said nonchalantly as he wiped down the counter.)
---
Eventually, shit hits the fan. The coffee shop is stormed during regular day hours on a weekday. After the lunch rush where everything has been quiet. Men armed to the teeth burst in, making people drop to the ground as they pointed guns at the few customers that were there.
Jake just continued to wipe down the counter as he calmly walked in front of the register.
"What can I get for you folks today?" Jake said in a bored manner. "If you wanna buy some manners, you gotta get them somewhere else, though, unless you wanna show me ya got some by putting away the guns? These ladies and gentlemen are customers just like ya'll they have the right to be here like you do."
"Jake," Bob hissed tugging the back of the other man's shirt harshly.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, Where the fuck is Iceman, Bobby?" The leader said pointing the gun at him.
"Mr. Kazansky ain't here today, and even if he was, you can't just ask for him easily like you can ask for coffee," Jake drawled.
"Jake, stop." Bob gritted out before facing the antagonists. "He's not going to give in with whatever you guys want, you know. However, if you put the guns down, we can talk about this," Bob said with steel in his voice as he removed his glasses and rested them to the side.
One of the men huffed out a laugh, "You have no leverage against us, Bobby-boy, we have you outnumbered today. All we got to do is to kill you one by one, he's always been fond of his staff. Especially normies like him," the man said nodding in Jake's direction. "He really knows nothing, huh? Unfortunate that his hick brain doesn't have a sense of self-preservation--"
"Rude, I am a delight," Jake drawled, resting his hands on the counter and leading forward. "Buttt that's more of my charmin' personality, you won't find it delightful if I take action. Only I can call Bobert names after all, ya know?"
"Pfft-- what's blondie here gonna do--"
Bob couldn't believe his eyes, he was accustomed to violence. Raised in it by this point, but he never expected it from Jake of all people. And he never expected it to be so smooth, fast, and efficient. By the end of it, all of the armed men were incapacitated on the ground, the leader on his knees as Jake looked down at him and pinched his cheeks together with one hand, staring impassively.
"Considering I'm the one standing here while all your friends are done for," Jake started, voice even and smooth. "It seems like this hick has more self-preservation than you, do," Jake said smiling before delivering a sharp hit to the temple making the man pass out on the ground.
Jake put his hands on his hips and looked upward as if praying to God for strength before pulling out his phone. He looked back at Bob and gestured for him to give him a moment, as he brought the phone to his hear.
"Hey Coyote," Jake said chuckling weakly as he pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a deep sigh. "Seems like I'm back in the game, although, it may have seemed that I never left in the first place," Jake said huffing out a low laugh and shaking his head in disbelief. "I need clean-up crew, now."
---
part 2
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pedgito · 2 years ago
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oh man i love that modern au with bestfriend!eddie but i need more re: his best dickpic ever! like how much heat is he packing in said dickpic? and what makes it so good? angle? lighting? is the dick in question perhaps adorned with a festive lil hat? more plz!
author’s note: a part two to this, doesn’t have to be read as a pair but you can if you want! i crack myself up every time i write stuff like this because it’s so eddie.
cw: 18+ (minors dni) lots of dick talk, modern!eddie, mentions of drunk sex, bestfriend!eddie, platonic soulmates (small mention to them being like siblings metaphorically) if i missed anything lmk.
word count: 1k
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“I swear I’m not judging or anything, but like,” Eddie peers up at you from where his head is resting in your lap, body stretched out along the rest of the bed as the movie played on amidst his sudden need for conversation, “why don’t you stop using the apps if it keeps happening?”
“Do you hear yourself, Eddie?” You ask, eyes narrowing at him from above, your own hair curtaining his face as you glance down. “I have to stop because it’s me being assaulted with dick pics, not the other way around—you are…such a guy that it pains me to even think about.”
And it’s a bigger shot to his ego than he’s expecting, gasping dramatically through his very obviously hurt gaze.
“I need better content,” You tell him, “and considering this standing relationship I have with your dick, I’d really appreciate it if you'd step up your game.”
“Okay, that really hurts.” Eddie says dejectedly, “My dick is pretty, you can’t deny that.”
You shrug, “It’s up there, but I’ve seen several—it could easily get lost in the bunch.”
“See this,” Eddie flicks between you and him, “is why we’d never work.”
“Say that to two weeks ago when you crawled into my bed drunk and naked,” You retort, forcing Eddie to relive that embarrassing memory, “seemed to work pretty well then.”
“We were both drunk,” Eddie states as a matter of fact, “and if I remember correctly, you were just as eager.”
It was a small blip in your friendship and nothing that could ruin it, neither of you remembered much anyways—but it was definitely enjoyable.
“We gotta get festive, it’s the holidays,” You tell him, “spruce the pics up a bit, it’s getting boring.”
“I told you that you couldn’t use this stuff as blackmail.” Eddie tells you vehemently, “So whatever is going on in that head of yours, it stays between us.”
“Eddie, I love you,” You tell him seriously, “I would never do that to you—but as my best friend, you’re sorta obligated.”
Eddie snorts, shoving your amused smile out of view with his fingers as they push at your cheek, forcing you away so he could sit up fully, movie forgotten.
“Hit me with it.” Eddie says, your smile growing wider.
If only he knew.
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“I feel like there’s a kink for this somewhere on the internet.” Eddie notes, holding up the small Christmas hat between his fingers—the perfect size for, well, his dick.
You snickered evilly, “Don’t forget these,” You mentioned, holding up the battery powered Christmas light necklace, “—oh shit, I almost forgot.”
Eddie reers back slightly, eyeing you carefully as you dipped into the bag on your bed.
“Absolutely fucking not,” Eddie says sternly, noting the fluffy reindeer ears and red nose squeezed in your palm, holding his hands up defensively as you approached, “not just no—but fuck no, sweetheart.”
“You’re no fun.” You pout, tossing the items on the bed.
“Tell me the deal again?” Eddie asks, gathering the items in his hand, phone clutched to his chest in the other.
“Dinner on me for a week and I’ll do the dishes,” You tell him, “don’t try to meddle your way into more.”
Eddie smirks fondly, “Had me at dinner, babe.”
Eddie disappears briefly to his own room—to, as he would say, take care of business. You’re not sure what he does, keeping your mind from straying too far. After the drunk escapades a couple weeks prior, there was always something there—nothing serious or tangible, but it was blatantly obvious that you found each other attractive.
It was a shame that you two butt heads like siblings and hate each other in every other sense of the idea of an actual relationship.
Eddie leaves his room about twenty minutes later looking a little more flush in the face, shirtless and his sweats hanging low on his waist. You laughed through your nose, sizing him up. He attempts to hand the decoration back to you.
“Burn it,” You grimace, “you know I only needed pics, right?”
Eddie’s still surprised at how easily you can read him.
“I was trying to sweeten the pot a little,” He shrugs, “got you a video, free of charge.”
“Oh, you spoil me.” You tell him with a forced smile, glancing at your phone as it dinged a few times.
“Quality over quantity, sweetheart.” He grins darkly, nodding toward your phone. “That should keep the creeps at bay.”
It’s terrible how well you’d memorized his dick, smiling with amusement as you scrolled through the pictures after he’d finally left you alone. As annoying as Eddie could be, he was an expert at angles, lighting, the whole thing—they were tasteful, but so outrageous that they would surely scare off the desperate men in your messages.
“Thoughts?” He asks, peeking around the frame of your bedroom door when he hears you giggling to yourself.
“I’m not giving you another ego boost.” You tell him, a grin spreading over his face.
“You don’t have to,” Eddie says confidently, “I can see it on your face.” Because despite how well you knew Eddie, he knew you even better.
Now, if only he had the same luck with people as you—not that he was asking for any unsolicited dick pics but his luck with dating had been nothing short of abysmal.
“I’ll send the cute ones your way,” You smile warmly, “long as they’re willing.”
Eddie presses his hand over his heart tenderly, crossing the small distance to your bed to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, mumbling a soft, “Love you.”
Not that you needed to hear it, you already knew.
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago
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One Small Change
Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing, Only One I See, One Thing Leads To Another, One Message Waiting, One Day Closer to You, I’m the Only One, Plus One, Ticket for One, The Wrong One, Number One
Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)
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Saturday. You find it hard to focus on the mountain of work before you as the night before nips at the back of your mind. You haven’t even sorted through the mess of text messages waiting in your phone, the battery icon blinking neglected as you search for an ounce of motivation to start a new day.
Why did last night have to end? You and Jake didn’t play any more MarioKart. You hadn’t managed to catch your breath until well after midnight and you only just dragged yourself out of his dorm before two in the morning. Two!
You feel wild. Like you’re finally living your college life. Not just burying your nose in endless textbooks and dreading your next lecture. But that doesn’t mean that part of it is over. Nope, it’s sitting there staring you in the face, the pile of borrowed library books stacked on your desk and the half-finished notes littered around your laptop.
You grab your mug and peer into the depths, stained with the dregs of your first cup of coffee. You’re half-tempted to go down and indulge in a sugar latte from the Starbucks attached to the next dorm building but you haven’t earned much more than another generic pod from the shared keurig in your kitchen.
You resign yourself to the bland medium roast and emerge into the common space to set the machine to grinding. Your dorm mates are elusive, likely sleeping off their own Friday nights, as the nozzle chokes out a steady brown drip. You add a touch of oat milk and go back to your room, yawning before you take a sip.
Your phone buzzes. You can’t ignore it forever. You’re supposed to meet up with Inez later but you don’t know if you can face everything else. You still can’t believe Jake, but you're not mad at it. He only said what you’re too afraid to. 
And he’s right, you’re just happy he said it all out loud. Professor Rogers was getting a bit too close for comfort. Even if he’s totally oblivious to it, you shouldn’t undersell your feelings. Easier thought than done.
You take your phone and plug it into the charge as the 5% warning chirps. You pause and scroll through your notifications, pulling up Inez’ chat first.
‘Meet me at mine @ 1. Bring snacks.’
You give a short confirmation and flip back to Jake’s chat. A dweeby gif of a cartoon cat waving and wishing you a good morning. He’s such a nerd but it’s so cute.
‘Mornin’ you answer bluntly, not sure how much you should say.
‘How ya feelin, champ? Is the crown heavy?’ He quickly responds and you chuckle.
‘W.e. If I spent all my time playing as an imaginary plumber, I might be just as delusional’
‘O we had some real fun last night ;)’
‘And now back to the real not fun’ you swoop up the camera and take a photo of your desk, sending it off with the message.
‘Boo. Should I bring help? Coffee?’
‘Pls. I can’t have u distractin me’
‘Bc I’m so fuckin’ sexy or because I got the best cuddles’
‘Ew stop’
‘Not wat us said last nite’
‘Got 2 study. U should 2.’ You make yourself key in, ‘txt later’.
You hit back and view the list of unread, Professor Rogers at the very top. You really don’t want to delve into that horror show but you have a meeting with him on Monday and you can’t really walk in with this hanging over you. You push your thumb down and the chat pops up.
Several messages precede Jensen’s brash response. ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Having a fun Friday?’... his usual niceties. But only one comes after.
‘Didn’t mean to overstep. Have a good night’
Should you answer? Reassure him with some lie? Or at least let him down easy? Let him down easy? About what? He’s your professor, not your friend. You close the chat and leave him on read. Let him take a hint.
You take your coffee back to your desk and sit down, chin in your hand as you scroll. An email pops up in the corner of your screen, a red exclamation on the margin denoting an urgent message. The sender both surprises you and doesn’t. Dr. Steve Rogers. It could be for the class.
You click and the wind spans the screen, the subject; ‘Lesson 1 Revisions’
You sigh. You thought that was all figured out. You went over everything, you made the changes, he said it was all good. You were already halfway through planning for your next lesson in Week Three.
‘Due to some recent Council regulation amendments to the curriculum, the introductory lesson for Winter term’s ‘Classic to Contemporary Literature’ must be revised to meet the new standards set by the Dean’s Office. See attached the most recent council legislative review and let me know if you have any questions.
My recommendation would be to postpone the completed lesson for Week 3 and design a new lesson to meet the requisites for Week 1. I am open to discussion. Understanding that these are last-minute and unexpected changes, I am open to meeting Sunday for office hours if necessary.
Please let me know if I can assist further and if you would like to meet.
Dr. Rogers’
You sigh and turn your head down, tempted to slam the laptop closed. You don’t have time for this. You have finals, you have papers, and now all the work you’ve done is essentially wasted. It seems almost too convenient that this has to happen now, of all times.
And Dr. Rogers… that sign-off? You lift your head and scroll back to the last email he sent to the class about the exam. At the very bottom you hover your cursor over ‘Professor R.’ Why is he suddenly getting so formal about this? Dr. Rogers, you scoff and roll your eyes. 
Well, you can’t blame him for the council amendments. That’s just an unfortunate inconvenience, still his timing is a bit strange. He could wait until you meet on Monday when you’re not piled high with studying. 
You rub your forehead and go back to his email. You sit up and type your response.
‘Thank you for letting me known, Dr. Rogers. We can discuss this on Monday at our previously arranged time.’
You hit send and exit out of the window. You have the holiday break to figure out second semester. Right now, you need to finish this stupid paper about Interwar Bavaria for Professor Laufeyson.
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writting-stuff-sometimes · 2 years ago
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Lovers at Coachella Lando x Fem Reader +18 NSFW
Summary: You dated Lando for a few months, it had been a year since you broke up, Max and your friends planned a trip to Coachella that turns into more than a friends get away.
AN: Hello everyone, I'm back with something I wrote today, not proof read but I felt inspired. I'm still working on the following parts of "Just a Mistake", comments are greatly appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
Warnings: cheating, slight smut, minors dni.
You arrived at LAX a little after 10 am, it had been an 11 hour flight from Amsterdam but you loved driving so much you decided to rent a car and drive all the way to Coachella instead of taking another flight, you were attending the festival with your friends and your "ex", another reason why you decided to drive, it gave you some time to prepare yourself to see him after the breakup a year ago.
You had dated Lando for a couple of months while you finished school in the UK, the relationship was fast and intense, but when you finished school you got a job in Amsterdam and his racing career had him traveling too much, so you decided to end things, it was a friendly breakup with a goodbye fuck, then breakfast the morning after and you two kept in touch through social media and a casual text every once in a while.
After a couple of hours you got to the airbnb Max had rented but something wasn't right, the photos he had shared were of a house big enough to fit your group of 6, but from the outside you could tell the place you had arrived to was a small apartment, the code to the key lock box worked, you opened the door slowly, afraid to be entering someone else's place, and just like you predicted it was a one room apartment with one full bed and a futon in the living room.
Your friends where supposed to be there already, and not a soul was in sight.
-Y/N Guys where are you? Max I followed the location you sent but I'm not sure I'm at the right place.
You texted to the group chat and sat on the futon, you weren't sure if you should be inside but outside was way too hot.
The beeping sound of the lock box woke you up, the golden hour light coming from the window let you know you had fallen asleep for several hours.
You checked your phone and still no answer. Everyone had left you on read, assholes. A knock on the door brought your attention back to what had woken you up, you had taken the two keys so now you had to let in whoever was outside. You walked to the door and looked through the peep hole.
"Guys c'mon, I really need to pee" Lando screamed from outside.
You opened the door and he rushed in, barely paying attention to you.
"Thank God" He threw his backpack towards the living room and rushed to the first door he found.
It was weird, the person that had you worried about this trip was the one giving you peace at the moment, at least it wasn't just you who was lost or had screwed up.
You went back to sit on the sofa and checked your phone, maybe you had no service and that's why you didn't got their answer.
"Y/N" his voice saying your name sent a shiver down your spine, you had always like how he said it. You turned to look at him and you could see a cute spark in his eyes, maybe it was just the sunset playing with his beautiful green eyes or maybe you did cause his eyes to shine in a certain way.
"Where is everybody?" he broke your chain of thought, you nervously cleared your throat before answering.
"I don't know, this is not the place Max sent, I texted them hours ago but they haven't answered"
"Ugh, I ran out of battery during the flight let me connect my phone" He went to the side of the sofa and plugged his phone, while you waited for it to come back to life you had the awkward catching up.
Finally a sound coming from his phone informed you that it was on and he called Max directly, putting him on speaker.
"Hellooo?"
"What the fuck mate, where are you? I think you got scammed...again, you suck at planning trips"
"Oh, do I? Check the group chat, call you later" Max hung up the phone and Lando looked at you matching your confused expression.
"This fucking idiot" he said looking at the screen on his phone
"What?"
"Check the chat" Lando said pinching the bridge of his nose and you did as he said.
Max F. has changed the group's name to "Lovers reunion🧡🧡, Coachella 2023"
-Max F. This week you're going to the festival, just the two of you, do everyone a favor and start dating again, we're sick of your instagram flirting and Lando's obsession with Y/N it's exhausting. Have fun ✌️
"Why are we friends with him?" Lando asked still holding the bridge of his nose trying to hide his blushing face.
"I'm not sure anymore" You said locking your phone and throwing it on the sofa.
He prepared two cups of tea so you could try to think about how the week was going to work out. At the end you decided you were going to take turns using the bed, it was big enough to fit both of you but you knew it was a dangerous game, your relationship had been spend mostly between the sheets and your conversations consisted in moaning each others names and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ear, so sleeping in the same bed, specially after a couple of drinks, was risky.
When you finished the cup of tea you went to the supermarket to buy groceries for the rest of the week, Lando was doing great this season and his trainer allowed him to do this trip just because he and Max promised him he would stick to his diet.
After the grocery store you both went for a run trying to burn all the energy and fight jet lag, when you came back to the apartment you had to check some emails from work so Lando showered first.
"All yours" he said exiting the steamy bathroom with just a towel around his hips, some water falling from his hair to his chest, this view sent a hot wave all over your body, he had always had a great physic but the changes in the last year were amazing, his back looked broader, his abs where pretty noticeable and his arms, those stupid arms that you missed around you, were so inviting.
"You can take a picture" He said in a cheeky tone as he looked at you with a raised brow.
"Sorry" You excused yourself returning to your laptop "I just need to finish this email and then I'll shower."
"Don't apologize, it's not like we haven't seen each other naked before" You blushed at his comment and kept your eyes on your screen. You couldn't fall for this, not just because it would mean Max had won, but because there was actually someone waiting for you at home, you hadn't told any of your friends yet, but you were dating someone, it was still pretty recent, he had asked you to be his girlfriend just a couple of weeks ago, so if anything happened with Lando you would be cheating, and cheating was something you were strongly against.
"I'll make diner while you shower, chicken fajitas and rice sounds good to you?"
"Yeah, sure" You said with a dry throat, you felt like a teenager.
When you came out from the shower dinner was served, clearly cooking wasn't his forte, the chicken was dry, some bits were burnt and the rice was more like a pudding, but he was proud he had done it all by himself so you let him have it. After dinner you both went to sleep, even after you had taken a sleeping pill the tension kept you both a wake, you couldn't stop thinking about him and his hot wet body after the shower. You knew what you needed to do to fall asleep but you had left your toy at home so your fingers had to be enough for the night, you couldn't help to feel a bit guilty, you were touching yourself thinking about your "ex" who was sleeping outside, what you didn't know was that he was doing the exact same thing thinking about you.
The next morning you had breakfast and got ready to enjoy the first day of the festival, Lando couldn't help to stare in awe when you walked out the room in a long black skirt with pretty deep cuts to the sides, a small white crop top and some cowboy boots, he didn't look bad himself, a sleeveless black shirt, black shorts and some colorful nikes that matched a necklace Max had given him.
During the festival you couldn't help to notice how protective Lando was, a couple of guys tried to talk to you as you were buying some beers or waiting in line for the bathroom and as soon as he saw this he would run to you and "marked" his territory by nonchalantly placing his arm over your shoulders, scaring the other guys away, this wasn't right, you two were just friends, but you couldn't deny you loved how his arm felt around you.
The great music and couple of beers had smoothed things between you two, and when you came back to the apartment you started making diner together while chatting about how amazing the day had been.
The kitchen was small, so in order to move around it you had to be very close, he walked behind you and took you strongly by your hips to move you a bit to the side so he could open a drawer, his touch made you gasp and he just smiled when he heard the effect his hands had on you, but he didn't say anything, he liked this game and he wanted to see how far he could go.
You tried to get some plates but they were too high, when he saw you struggling he walked towards you.
"Let me" he said as he stretched behind you reaching for two dinner plates, his body was so close to yours that when his shirt rose up from the stretch, his warm skin touched yours where the crop top left it uncovered, you felt your heart skip a beat.
"Here, babe" he handed you the plates, the nickname bringing amazing memories back.
"Thanks" you answered in a breathy whisper.
While you had dinner you couldn't help to stare lovingly at him, he looked so happy talking about how amazing this season was going, you had seen him struggle the previous one and him being so happy filled your heart.
When you finished dinner you sent him to the shower while you did the dishes, he insisted on helping you but he had done them the night before.
"Your turn" he whispered against your ear making you jump as you finished drying a glass, the scare making you drop it but his quick reflexes stopping it from hitting the table, you turned to complain but you had forgotten how small that kitchen was, so you found yourself caged between the kitchen counter and his strong, naked, wet torso.
You looked into his eyes, then down to his lips, they looked so plumped and inviting, you bit your lower lip trying to fight the urge to attack his mouth.
"Baby, please tell me you want this too" He whispered as one of his hands traced the elastic of your skirt from your belly button, around your hips and stopping on your lower back, causing goosebumps to cover your body.
"Yes" you whispered in a low growl and finally joined your lips, his hands pulled you strongly against him as yours went to grab his wet curls, he pulled you up and you wrapped your legs around his hips causing the towel to fall end left him completely naked. He walked towards the bedroom, he laid you gently over the bed, you couldn't help to stare at his naked body, every freckle, every crease, every vein looked so inviting.
"It's not fair, I'm naked and you're way too covered, love" he said pouting his lips, he might look like a man but he still had this childish side that you loved.
You smiled at his reaction and removed your top and the strapless bra, you were about to remove your skirt but his hands stoped yours.
"Please, let me" he took the elastic from your skirt and pulled it down your legs, softly touching your skin. "So perfect" he said as he stared at your half naked body "Let's keep the thong a bit longer" he placed himself over you, attacking your lips again.
That night you had the most amazing sex in a long time, Lando knew your body better than any other guy you had been with, he knew exactly when to be soft and caring and when you wanted him to be rough and wild.
The next couple of days anyone that saw you would think you were a couple, you spend the days holding hands, hugging, kissing, having amazing sex in every inch of that apartment, basically having the time of your life.
It was Monday, you had planed with the group to go to LA when the festival was over but the chances of people recognizing Lando over there were higher, so you just decided to stay at the small town and enjoy the anonymity.
You knew time was running out, you were supposed to return to your normal life on Saturday and you had two options, talk about the situation or go to the airport, say your goodbyes and leave as if nothing had happened. You planned on having the conversation on Friday night, but on Wednesday an unexpected call pushed things forward.
You were lying naked in bed, Lando's left hand over your shoulders playing with your left fingers as your other hand rested on his thigh, when your phone rang, Michael's name on your screen.
You took the phone fast.
"I need to take this" you said as you put on Lando's shirt over your body and walked to the livingroom closing the door behind you.
"Hello?" you answered in a low voice.
"Hi, baby, how are you? Haven't heard from you in a couple of days, everything ok?" You had been MIA on social media for the last couple of days and he was worried.
"Hi, baby, yeah everything's ok, it's just we had a change of plans and decided to stay in Coachella for the rest of the week instead of going to LA" you whispered. afraid Lando would hear you.
"Oh, ok, why are you whispering?"
"Ummm, we got here late last night and a couple of the girls are sleeping"
"Isn't it like 5pm?"
"Yes, we went to have brunch and we had a couple mimosas, they're resting because we're going out tonight"
"I didn't knew they had nightclubs at Coachella, I thought it was a small town"
"They have some bars" From the corner of your eye you saw the bedroom door open and freaked out a bit "I have to go, but call you tomorrow, love you, bye" you hung up fast but the look on Lando's face let you know he had heard your call.
"Who was that?" he asked in a serious tone, you froze. "Y/n, I asked you something" you could hear he was angry and hurt. "You're dating someone?" You turned to look at your hands and just said yes with your head.
"So, this is just a fling? a game?"
"No! Lando, it's not like that"
"Where you planing on telling me you have a boyfriend? where you planing on telling him about us?"
"Lando, I..., well..."
"Just tell me the truth" he begged in an exhausted tone.
"Listen" you held his hand and pulled him to sit by your side. "Yes I have a boyfriend, but I didn't knew things were going to go this way, as far as I knew this was a week away with friends, not just the two of us, and I know I should have told you about Michael when we talked about our current live's but... I really liked how having you back felt" you looked into his eyes trying to read in them if he felt the same way or if this had all been a mistake.
"I like having you back too" his thumb traced small circles over your hand. "You think we can do it right this time?" He let go of your hand and took your face in his hands pulling you to touch your forehead with his "I don't want to loose you again". His soft warm breath caressing your skin.
"I don't want to loose you either" You whispered as you looked into his green eyes " I love you" you finally said out loud, his eyes widened in shock, then he smiled.
"I love you too" He said pulling you in for a kiss, he pushed you to lay on the sofa and placed himself between your legs. The kissed turned a bit wilder as his hand sneaked under the shirt and groped your right boob, you moaned at the touch and he took this chance to remove the shirt completely.
"You really think we can do it?" you asked as you layed naked over the sofa.
"I think so, we can ask George how he and Carmen do it, or you can quit and travel around with me"
"Thanks for the offer but this ain't the 1950's anymore"
"I'm just saying. I don't want to loose you again" he held you tight against his chest.
"You won't, we'll work this out" You kissed his lips gently. "I'm just afraid of one thing"
"What is that?"
"Max is going to be so incredibly annoying when he finds out"
"Ugh, I know"
Tag List:@ricsaigaslec
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billdenbrough · 13 days ago
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my uncle killed himself last night.
technically, he’s my mum’s cousin, but we’re pasifika, which means he’s my uncle. he’s one of her best friends in the whole world. she’s closer to him than she is to her actual brother.
when he told me the news, my dad gave a tiny biography. a refresher course, if you will. to some, this would indicate, i imagine, a great distance. a lack of familiarity. the thing you have to know, then, is my mother has one hundred and eight first cousins. multiple of them (who are also related to each other) have the same name.
but i’m sitting in a mall, looking at my google doc, thinking to myself, how am i going to connect a to b, and then i get a text, and i am staring at my phone for ten minutes. there is something weird and staticky and tight and panicky in my chest, but mostly everything is numb. i do not own a weighted blanket, but i imagine sometimes it might be like this. a grounding pressure coating everything. or maybe vaseline is closer to what i mean, keeping things in, keeping things out.
i call my dad. i take a list of errands. nothing to do with my uncle, or my mother, or grief, or death. they are the tasks my dad needs done, the things he was going to do today but now is not, because my mother’s heart is broken and he can’t leave her alone. so maybe they are to do with grief, kind of.
i drive through the city, and it sucks, because of course it does, but also it’s a saturday, and it’s a long weekend, and there are sales, and i am driving to the biggest mall in my area. and i get there, and i don’t really know where to go or what to do, so i try to nap in the back of my car. i lock all the doors, bunch up several of my jackets lying around, and set a timer for half an hour. after three minutes, it’s too hot, so i climb back up, figure out how to unlock the whole car, make my way to the front, turn it on, and put the back two windows down, just an inch or two. inches aren’t my favourite measurement—imprecise, unpractical, american—but it is what it is. i lay back down, and i try sleep, and i get maybe ten minutes of semi-aware rest before the noises outside stress me out too much, and then i spend the rest of the timer curled on my side, staring at my phone battery go down. my dad calls me back eventually, and gives me a direction. the first half of the great impersonator is my company for this, until my battery level stresses me out even more than the vaseline works, and i switch off bluetooth completely.
it starts raining at some point, and there is a wind tunnel, and my feet are sore because i’m not wearing my orthotics, which i am not wearing because they were making my feet ache. catch-22. i keep doing errands, and eventually, the lane i take when driving from one of the stores to a different mall leads me all the way to the house of someone i used to know, a boy who dated someone in my family for years and years and years. this is not great. i do not love this. i have spent the better part of a year adjusting to his absence, see, and reckoning with the big hurts people can deal people in ways that are small, in the greater scheme of things.
and i’m driving past his parents’ house, thinking about the last time i was there, and it’s probably less upsetting than it would be on a good day, but it is still a bad thing on a day that just managed to already be worse. and then i start thinking about my uncle, and my dad’s refresher bio, and how it did not include the fact that this man taught me how to weave, even though he did. he showed me how to weave hammocks and nets and helped me into a dinghy when i was ten and trying to bridge the gap of the ocean from the ladder to the boat and my mother loved him and relied on him and his smile is etched into my brain and now he is dead.
i finally get hungry. i woke up at 5am, my body causing me problems even after being up past midnight revisiting old stories and universes and ideas, and i’ve had one thing to eat around 9:30, and then everything has been too funny in my stomach to contend with the idea of eating. and then, suddenly, i am finally hungry, so much that it hurts. and i get food for my mother, who has not been eating all day, too full with grief, and i get food for myself, and some extra for my dad, and i drive through the rain and behind bad drivers and with songs i don’t know playing, until i get to the kitchen where my mother is, and i drop all my bags, and i hold her for a full minute while she shakes against me.
dad went for a walk, she says, and i give her the food, and i tell her i got the broth separate from the noodles so she can heat and eat it later if she isn’t ready now, and she says she will eat it.
and she is eating. and i am eating. and there she is. and here i am. and she says she wants to go back home. she wants to go this week, but she doesn’t know who can take care of the cat, because i will be in another city for three days and dad will be away for two. and she says how my uncle was such a big part of the reason she was so looking forward to going back home with all of us this christmas. they had so many big plans. and her voice shakes. and she says my aunt, her sister, is taking it badly, and i am not surprised, and then she says that my aunt is the one who found him, that it was in her house, and now i am surprised. now i am shaking too.
my dad comes home. she doesn’t bring up wanting to go back. maybe she is waiting. i wash my new sheets. the rugby game is starting in one room, and we all slowly migrate there, and we sit in separate chairs, and we watch, by which i mean we have devices in front of us that we sometimes look away from to observe the game. i’m still staring at that same google doc from this morning.
every so often, when i look up, i don’t watch the game. i watch my mother, and i watch how her face crumples, so many times that i cannot count. her whole mouth turns down, and her face shakes, and her eyes are so, so sad, and she is across the room from me, and all i can do is watch. she does not cry. she does not speak. but her face crumples, over and over.
my dad goes to shower. she goes to shower. i end up on a wikipedia deep dive of something even more horrible, even sadder, and close my laptop screen. i go to shower, because i almost had a breakdown over something that isn’t even a thing to have a reaction to on twitter, and i need to do something to douse the rising anxiety beneath my skin. so i go to shower, and i open tumblr, and i start typing. i don’t really know why i’m saying all this. i guess i’m still trying to douse the rising thing in my chest. the vaseline is wearing thin, and i don’t know if it’s all better out or in.
i guess it’s just a lot. and i don’t know where to put it down. and today is the first day. and we will do it all again tomorrow, and my mother will still be staring at the ceiling, and i will be watching her, and my dad will go for walks in the rain, and nobody will have anything big enough to say to make it better. i don’t know if anyone has told my sister.
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cemeteryreviews · 13 days ago
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Church Reviews #4 - Church of San Francisco
Maria Hazel: You know, the Church of San Fransisco is very special since it is the oldest surviving church in Bogotá, built between 1557 and 1566 when Colombia didn't exist and the whole country was part of the New Kingdom of New Granada, a Spanish colony. As any old building, it has seen some shit. It got damaged after an earthquake in 1785 and some reconstructions have been made. Look at the entrance.
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The bell tower is white, but the rest of the entrance is built out of sandstone bricks or other kind of textured bricks, like this, it feels like some sort of frankenchurch, made of the parts of other churches. This entrance was finished around 1794, and you can see the date on the inscription. It looks all cornered by the bigger building at its side. It's small, and it has suffered of people writing graffiti on it too, this church definitely has seen better days.
This church is in one of the oldest neighborhoods of the city, most of it is composed of pedestrian crossings, my guess would be because some streets were never designed to have cars on them, so it is a bit of a touristic route and in every single street, every few meters, there are street sellers and musicians singing, dancing, playing the guitar, etc.
Aside of the sensory overload the place gives you, you know, even more than usual, there are vagabonds here and there and a lot of places smell like piss.
At the side of the church there is a small square where guys practice skateboarding jumping the sewer gates.
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If you sit around it, some religious person might want get close to you and ask you to sign something. I left right away when I got asked, but I thought it would have been funny if I used my deep male voice and said I was cursed by Satan so I couldn't touch religious symbols, it could have been funny.
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This is the view of the church from the square.
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And this, this is the church from its side. The graffiti says "Don't let the crosses use you as a puppet."
When I saw it, i thought "this church is evil." It's an attack on the senses everywhere you see it, the white bell tower, the sandstone entrance, the stained glass dark windows, covered with metal bars and surrounded by more mismatching bricks.
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At the end of the first chapter of Dracula, Jonathan says "the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky." And you can feel the same from this church, no light enters to the church, everything is jagged, everything looks wrong.
Victoria Hazel: That's stupid. It shows signs of permutation and change, but that doesn't make it "spooky evil", that's just stupid, stupid.
Maria Hazel: Anyway, when I go it is usually closed, but today, when I went, it was open, so I took the chance and went inside.
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Okay so first of all, there are several signs that say "it is not allowed to take photos, turn off your phone." I legitimately do not understand why, I don't understand, it might be to create atmosphere, but still... I did wrong, I did really wrong. But what I am supposed to do? It's photos, man! I took some photos, yes, but I'm just going to use them as a reference to help myself describe everything inside as much as possible, to you.
Victoria: Booo! Booo!
Maria: I know, I know! It sucks, but I will do my best to make it as descriptive as possible. Besides, there are some good photos of the inside here and there if look up on Google.
The air of the inside feels stale. It's like when you have a laptop right? If its plugged into an outlet, you say, no problem, I have all the time in the world, but if its on battery you say, hmmm, I only have like 3 hours left. Well, this air was exactly like that, it makes you say, damn, I have at most 3 hours of lucidity left. It smells weird, and it makes you think you might end up taking in the germs of a XIX century parishioner. The ceiling of the biggest part of the church is in wood, so yeah, not a great start there. The lighting is always dim, like very dim. It is hard to see. I saw a small chandelier at the very back but most of the place uses small, tiny studio lights to illuminate the place, some white, some yellow. Not everything is in wood though, there is another type of ceiling covering the side aisle.
[PHOTO #12]
Chat GPT: Picture, if you will, an expansive surface composed of a grid of square panels, each adorned with a central golden knob that catches the light. The panels are bordered in subtle, tarnished green, a hue that contrasts gracefully with the warm shimmer of the gold.
Victoria: I thought you were the one to describe the things, not some AI.
Maria: I'm english second language and there is a lot of weird shit I can't describe well give me a break!
Chat GPT: Within certain panels, decorative motifs emerge, with darkened, almost floral or cruciform designs subtly embedded in the grid. The structure is framed by deep wooden beams or moldings.
Maria: So anyway, the nave has a wood ceiling, and the side aisle has that weird ceiling. It doesn't have an aisle at the other side.
[PHOTO #13]
There are several big, golden altarpieces with lots of statues of religious figures, these are the things covering the windows and not letting the side of the stained glass windows come in. It's a bit of a weird place, you say, man, what a weird ass place, and then, you walk up to the altar.
[PHOTO #14]
The altar, no, not just the altar. The holy mother of all altars. This sanctuary is composed of 12 golden polychrome reliefs at each side on columns of three each, with the first two being as big as a person and the last one at the top being very small. At the center there is three other reliefs at each side, then 3 statues of some saints and then two other big ones on the center. Everything is of a golden color, almost as if it was of actual gold, it's not gold, right? It cannot be actual gold.
This place, it's huge, like, the church might be small but the altar is so wide and tall that it does its function of make you feel small. It is absolutely breathtaking and awe inducing, it makes you say, "damn, the people who made this really had a knack for design, a knack for opulence, this, is quite something, this place is holy." Everything is so shiny, and it would probably be more if it wasn't due to the dim, pale light, it would probably shine more.
There is even a mysterious red door at the side, a big, big door. When I was there, a very old man came out, dressing a purely brown robe with a white string, that is not the usual priest attire I have seen, he was so old that at first I thought he was part of the exhibition, he had a cane and took his time to walk, supporting himself of everything at his side too. I saw him touch one of the status at the center altar and look above. "A life of devotion." I said to myself when I saw him. The altar was so big that even if you crossed by the chains, it would take you 3 or 4 seconds to reach him. A guy passed the chains and I got nervous, but he just went to say hi to the priest and it seems the priest smiled and they had come conversation, again, it was very dark.
[PHOTO #15]
At each side of the altar, as in, outside of the altar but at the side, there is a canopy (or a dossal) with a big figure or statue on them as well. These two have stairs to reach them, and for some reason there is a pigeon or a dove pasted at the bottom of it, it's a bit bizarre.
[PHOTO #16]
The floor is a terrazzo floor. We know what I think about terrazzo floors, I like them in offices and other buildings, but in churches it feels a little too pristine for my taste. I don't know if that's the exact word, but oh well.
[PHOTO #17]
Chat GPT: This floor presents itself as a geometric tapestry of stone tiles, arranged in a meticulous diamond pattern. Each tile is a deep, earthy red, reminiscent of terracotta, bordered by pale, almost white stone strips that crisscross at perfect right angles, creating a series of interlocking diamonds.
The red tiles bear subtle, natural imperfections—tiny flecks and gentle pockmarks. The lighter stones framing each red square add contrast and definition, drawing the eye toward the repeating pattern and creating a sense of depth.
Maria: And it also looks kinda lame for some reason, I don't know why, but it never lands with me the right way. There is also a chamber that is also quite breath taking.
[PHOTO #18]
Chat GPT: This grand space you’ve captured could be described as a side chapel or perhaps a sacristy, though it also has qualities of a sanctuary where sacred art and iconography are displayed with reverence. Upon entering, one is immediately enveloped by the opulence of the golden altarpiece at the far end, standing as the focal point of the room. The altarpiece is intricately carved and gilded, containing statues within niches, likely depicting saints or religious figures central to the church’s identity. Each niche is framed with gold leaf and it gives a contrast to the cool, blue-green tones that dominate the walls and ceiling.
The walls themselves are adorned with what could be termed pilasters, flat columns with gilded detailing, giving structure and rhythm to the space. They frame a series of large, somber paintings in dark hues.
The ceiling, too, is a masterpiece—painted in a similar blue-green shade, dotted with golden floral or star-like motifs. The way it arches above feels almost like a canopy. Lining either side, along the walls, is paneling in the same blue-green hue, embossed with golden embellishments, each panel forming a vertical rhythm that draws the eyes toward the altar. These details are not merely ornamental; they reflect the Baroque intention of engaging the senses fully, surrounding the viewer with beauty that speaks to the divine.
Maria: In the center, a simple wooden bench rests, the side chapel is closed by bars though, so you can't really enter. What struck me is the use of white pale lights that point towards the ceiling, these people know very well how to create an atmosphere. The white, pale lighting makes the room seem to glow, somehow.
[PHOTO #19]
At the front of the church you can see yet another ceiling below a small balcony.
Chat GPT: The intricate design is a tapestry of octagonal and cross-shaped motifs, creating a rhythm of interlocking patterns that seem to echo infinitely across the surface. Painted in a rich, cool blue-green, the background color serves as a perfect foil for the lavish gilded details that adorn each shape.
Each octagon and cross contains a floral or sunburst-like medallion in gleaming gold. These gilded motifs, carved with meticulous detail, appear almost three-dimensional.
[PHOTO #20]
Maria: Most of the confessionals are of a very old worn out wood in green and red, they are placed in some awkward positions between the aisle to the point the look as if they were just piled up for display.
[PHOTO #21]
At the front entrance, there is a big, picturesque door.
Chat GPT: This is no ordinary entryway but rather a ceremonial or sanctuary door. The door is painted in a rich, almost regal red. The surface is adorned with intricate, gilded wood carvings. These golden ornaments take the form of baroque flourishes—floral and foliate motifs that curl and twist in ornate patterns, framing central medallions.
Around the door's edges, delicate bead-like decorations outline the panels, adding a rhythmic texture that guides the eye along the frame. The asymmetry of the designs—paired with the slight wear and imperfections—gives the door a sense of character.
Maria: There is some other stuff to see, like the several altarpieces, some huge paintings and everything else in the altar that I just seem to be unable to describe. At the side there is even a small chapel too annexed to it. It doesn't seem to be part of the thing or even connected somehow, it's weird man, weird.
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So well, that's basically it, a decay and unseemliness that makes it feel evil on the outside, and an opulence and sacred atmosphere that gets you close to meaning of everything that is holy on the inside. Everything about it is wild, it makes you think how a thing like that even became real, how it came to be, and how long as continued to exist over time. I stayed for some time but after a bit I felt I had to leave because the air was heavy and I felt it was slowly making me insane. That church is intense.
The floor still sucks though, so I'm not giving it a perfect score.
9/10
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genderqueerdykes · 2 years ago
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Our Hunt for a Home Continues: February 19th - 24th, 2023.
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We received a call on February 16th about an opportunity that had opened up with a low-income housing program designed for disabled people. We had been waiting on this opportunity for 4 or 5 months and were ecstatic when the call finally came through. The other units we were looking into renting were in the worst part of town, and charging $700 or more per month for a 1 bedroom or studio unit.
We were instructed to head over to this apartment complex on Feb 20th to fill out paperwork. We hopped in an Uber and went on over. We were shown the unit, then handed an application, told to get a $16 money order to cover the application fee, and come back and hand it all in. Well, it sounded a lot easier than it ended up being.
We don’t own a car and can’t drive due to disabilities (hallucinations, dissociation, anxiety, you get the picture). So in order to get this money order, we asked what places nearby could get us one. We were told to head to a local Circle K. We looked on Google Maps, saw it was 3 minutes away, and started walking. Well, it thought we were in a car, so it meant 3 minutes driving time.
After walking for about 15 minutes before realizing something was up, our legs felt like jello. Our left leg had a pinched nerve in it that day and was sending shooting pain up our hip and down our thigh with every step. Our hypermobile & arthritic joints were already screaming in pain and our feet needed a rest after just one city block of walking. We had to call another Uber. The problem was, for whatever reason, our cellphone service provider has abysmal service in the downtown Albuquerque area.
We lost service about 5 times trying to hail Ubers over the course of the day, causing us to have several public meltdowns. It’s hard to stay calm when your phone is on 20% battery, you keep losing your only way to hail a ride, and you’re in too much pain to walk anywhere where someone can help you. After a long fight we got connected with a driver who was very understanding of our situation, despite our language barrier.
They took us to several locations for free, as we first went to a Circle K gas station that didn’t do money orders, then attempted another gas station across the street, then a bank, and so on. It took a lot of stops but the driver didn’t mind, as I was paying for the longer stops across town. I didn’t care either because it became apparent that it was President’s Day after I tried to go to a bank and it was closed. I almost gave up, but decided to call the Circle K near my home, who turned out, did do money orders. I redirected my driver from dropping me off at home, got the money order, ran back to the apartment complex with just half an hour to spare before they closed.
Filling out the application filled me with dread. The desk staff person was very nice, but she was very blunt about the entire approval process. Because they can only take a percentage of your earned income, they are a very strict program that requires each tenant to pass a credit score check AND an extensive background check that monitors ALL of the renter’s history. She told me that this part of the approval process is where a lot of people get turned away. A lot of people don’t make it, she said.
After handing in my application, I knew it was fucked. I had been holding my breath and waiting for this unit. It seemed like it would come right in time- just right before the 28th, when I’m set to be homeless. But I got the call 2 days later where she said I was denied, due to an instance of unpaid rent in my past. I sighed heavily, asked her if I would be able to apply again after I got that sorted, and she said yes.
I freaked the fuck out, texted every local friend that I could, and let them know of my predicament. I was very lucky in finding a local friend whose roommate is leaving in 2 weeks. They are willing to charge me $495/month, which is way lower than anything I’ve been able to find on the market. We agreed to help each other out until I can figure something more permanent out. It’s not a solution I’d like to take, as I barely know this person, but if it helps both of us, so be it.
The instance of unpaid rent in another state was due to us having lived in Missouri at the time, far away from friends, family, and medical care. We were living with some folks at the time who ended up ghosting us after we helped them move in together. It left us stranded in a very cold state with unsurvivable winters and no programs for homelessness. There was no medicaid or other insurance that would cover me. I couldn’t even get my proper medical care while there, and after a while, my partner and I at the time decided we needed to leave for some place cheaper and safer. The heavy winters were too scary for us, as two people who have been homeless.
The landlord here would not allow us to terminate our lease early despite us expressing that it was an emergency and we literally could not stay any longer due to my health failing severely while in the harsh winters. I was developing arthritis symptoms that I had never seen before, and I was getting so sick that I couldn’t function. Still, my landlord wouldn’t budge and said we had to pay for the rest of the lease. We refused and left anyways, but the landlord didn’t care, I suppose.
I found out today that there is potentially help to get this debt paid for and consolidated, which will make me eligible for the low-income housing program for disabled people once more. I am not going to hold my breath that this is a fast process by any means, but, I am hoping that they will be able to clear that up so I can ever hope to rent an apartment of my own again. My credit score is 9 points under the threshold they wanted, so that will be my next goal…
The only other units in the city I could find that can drum up a lease for me with my circumstances were trying to charge $685/month and $725/month, one of which being in one of the worst parts of town. I would have to pay a massive $650 deposit at both of these places, plus have to get utilities set up in my name, as well as get internet set up for my job, and a lot of other costs that will not be apparent at first, but will stack on very quickly.
I am very scared moving in with roommates in general- I am not afraid of my current roommate, but I have lived with many, many different roommates, in many different places, for many different reasons. Roommate situations fall apart very easily. Money is almost always the thing that tears roommates and friends apart- whether it’s someone not paying their portion of the rent, not buying enough groceries, not paying for a bill, gambling, shopping when they can’t afford it, and so forth…
My case worker helped me contact a local Christian charity who does housing programs and we were able to contact someone who actually seems like they can help me with permanent, long term housing- they said all of their programs are permanent, but are best suited for people in low income situations and poor health. When they asked where I was headed my case worker said a friend’s couch, and this was the first person on the phone who said, after learning about my income being a fluctuating thing, “well now that makes me even more nervous- because if she* can’t pay that $500 one time, she’s very well gonna be right back out on the street. Roommate situations almost always fall apart. I don’t feel like that’s safe for her.” [*”She”s in this context referring to me/my system.]
This charity requires that the individual stays for at least one day at a homeless shelter in order to get an official letter of homelessness. I have been to and spent time in several shelters in my city, I don’t mind one day if it means a potential future of secure housing. They told me a lot of other things that sound quite promising. I just have to hope that I can hold out until they can get something prepared for me. They said they have furnished units that are basically ready and waiting…
Staying with a friend for now isn’t the end of the world. In fact, I’m going to save some money by not having to pay for a deposit, movers, and potentially storage, now. But I’m nervous, as any kind of roadblock can cause this situation to fall apart. Disagreements, not getting a lot of money from Etsy one month, physical and mental illness, personal issues, and other life stressors can cause a lot of problems. Plus, this person may eventually decide they want someone else to move in instead, as it is their place, not mine, and that is their decision to make.
With any hope, I can get my past rental dues cleared, and have a better chance with these programs. I am hoping and praying, but that will take time, more time than I have. It is February 24th, 2023 as of writing this, and I have to be out of my apartment on February 28th. I have to have all of my possessions and myself and my pet rat out on this date, or else police will be called, and my things will be thrown on to the sidewalk, and into dumpsters. My case worker confirmed that this is the case, and I have known people who have gone through this personally.
I am very frightened. It has been hard to stay calm. I’m not exactly excited to be working with a Christian charity as someone who is visibly trans- “”female”” birth marker and deadname, but High T body, deep voice, and short hair. It’s caused problems with domestic violence shelters in the past, and can cause problems with religious organizations. I just have to hope and pray that these people love Jesus more than they hate queers.
My case worker was pretty convinced we’d be able to get our hotel stay covered by some local programs, but after 2 hours of phone calls this morning, we discovered that all of the hotel voucher programs in town have used up their funds, and the majority of them require the individual to have a child, which I do not. I have littles, but they’re system kids, not bodily ones, but they’re not so kind as to consider any of that.
I honestly didn’t anticipate any of those programs coming through. I’m just hoping that I’m able to be able to afford the two weeks in an extended stay hotel and that not too many more things come up. I didn’t really want it to have to come to this, but it’s either this, or sign a 1 year lease for 1 bedroom apartment in the least safe part of town, for $685+/month. I can’t afford that, it’s unrealistic. As much as I’d like to totally have a place all to myself right now, I can’t do it unless one of these programs actually works with me.
Anyway, I just wanted to explain why it’s been so hard for us to post regularly lately. This has all been over the course of one week. One of the worst days of our collective life was on Tuesday, having to run around town to get a money order just to be told we won’t have a place to live come the 28th… heart breaking. It felt very uncomfortable to beg friends yet again for a place to stay, but this is the life of queer, poor and disabled people. We have to do what we have to to survive and it’s not pretty. Sometimes it involves putting strain on people you love and none of us want to do it.
With any hope our disability benefits get approved sometime soon and we won’t have to wait much longer to afford to live. But until now things are very tight, and any help that we get goes directly toward our survival and staying off the street.
This is why we take the time to thank everyone we can for their help and support- it makes all the difference, especially when programs that are designed to help people like me fail miserably, or have unexpected roadblocks. Every bit of help, even the smallest donations or purchases from our store enable us to stay safe, and we appreciate each and every one greatly.
We will try to post more updates as things progress. We are finding it a bit easier to endure this when we share updates, as it helps give people an idea of what life is like for people who aren’t quite so privileged. Things that take others a few minutes can take hours for us, given our lack of reliable transportation and inconsistent health.
Thank you for reading, take care, stay safe, and I hope you find an easier time staying sheltered if you are a similarly disabled, poor queer person. It’s not easy out there. We have to take care of one another, it is the only way.
Rook
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annaizscribbling · 2 years ago
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for the fic writer asks!! 🎀🎉💞🍭🎙🕯 :)
🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing
Hmm, I'm gonna get weirdly specific, but I think I really like how I portray characters on a downward spiral. Patton in Just Out of Reach, Virgil in Low Battery, even Logan in a Moment with Potential to some extent. I love slowly pulling them apart, and the strange ways I can describe it. It's fun, and forces me to really get in their heads.
🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)
Interesting question, usually when I post a chapter, I throw my phone across the room and play a video game to avoid thinking about it. It's a nice way to release it and let my brain relax. I celebrate later by posting about it or responding to comments, because those are quite the reward!
💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language
The characters!!!! It's all about the characters babey. Their goals, their needs, their preconceived notions about themselves, who they are vs what they think they are!!!! What is stopping them from being happy!!! I just Love Characters!!!
🍭why did you start writing
We're going WAY back, okay. So I started writing at a really young age, but only for short periods of time. I wrote a LotR inspired (ripoff) fantasy book at like nine on construction paper, at 13 I wrote a short story about cults, at 14 I wrote a few chapters about a magical trio of friends (still on Wattpad somewhere I think) and then in 2021, started writing fics. Writing has always been an outlet for me, even back then. I'd be filled with so much love for a book, or a story, or multiple ones at once, and I would channel that love into creating something of my own.
🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?
That would be pretty cool, hadn't thought much about it, but probably Low Battery, for several reasons. It's the most well known, and I think the different settings and long conversations could be interesting as a podfic, but admittedly I haven't listened to many of them, so idk.
🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?
I think Low Battery gets this one too. It was my first multi chaptered fic, and the first time I ever completed something longer that 2000 words. Oddly enough, I learned things about myself writing it. Not to delve too deep into the plot, but everyone has issues and everyone is forced to confront them. I think I got to channel so many parts of myself into the sides, and it was sometimes hard to keep going, because of how real it was to me. I don't regret it, and I did adore writing it, but yeah there's a lot of me hidden in there.
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dinnerwithrefi · 5 days ago
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11.3 - No Cake, Please
Dinner: bowl of leftover yellow rice w/bell peppers, jalapenos & onions
I really hate having to juggle so many phone calls in the span of a day, honestly. I'm not really a recluse, but my social battery is so selective with who it wants to be drained with for the day. Instead, well, I'm calling what feels like everybody in my immediate family in regards planning for my birthday and Thanksgiving. The main problem that I've been running into is that my friend is coming up to visit and it's thrown a weird spanner in the works for what everyone was expecting. Then again, I had no inkling my mum was headed to South Carolina for impromptu babysitting, nor that my dad was headed to Tennessee to spend time with his partner's mother for what's possibly her last major holiday. More than anything, though, I just wanted to make sure that I got to see my Aunt Brenda at some point before the year ends. Ever since I moved here, staying in contact with her has proven to be pretty difficult, whether that's been due to being bedridden for two months due to injury, my mental health taking a nosedive and remedying it with too much vodka, or just forgetting in general that she left a voicemail to call her back, I've just been so keen on seeing her again at some point.
It's weird how close our birthdays fall to major holidays, though. Yours is three days before Halloween, mine ends up fluctuating with Thanksgiving in the accursed Gregorian vacuum we've been tricked into. Still, I'm happy you were able to celebrate with your friends before you moved in with me. Part of me wishes I could've met them, though I highly doubt you would've wanted a spanner like me in the works. With how much you seem to value seamless coordination, having me be either a wallflower or a flirty social butterfly would absolutely disrupt everything. Still, that's just the smaller part of me. That larger part is laced with pleasant surprise and jealousy that you have your shit together in that realm of life. Up until a couple of years ago, I'd honestly just given up on things like birthday parties, since my family always had a tendency to ruin them all the time. Most people always try and spin divorce in an insipidly optimistic light by extolling the badassery of two birthdays. What they fail to realize is that both parents trying to work out schedules to meet up at Applebee's several years in a row and completely ignore what you'd like to do while simultaneously being ignorant about the things that you really want, you end up with a series of hushed arguments an hour before the dinner rush where your mother is gobsmacked your father still has that secretary hired, your father won't get off the entire thing of how the money's getting split, and you get sideways glances from both when you're not throwing yourself out the window with joy at a stack of five twenties, which ultimately leads to you having to hear one side of how contentious life is as someone who's barely entered high school.
It's not that I was ever ungrateful for the time we got to spend together or the money, but at some point you just realize that they stopped paying attention. They don't notice your soul quite literally detach from your body, sliding down the passenger seat and into the foot well, while they're going on about things you have no knowledge about. The noncommittal responses overshadow the fact that I'd slipped my earbud in and just stopped giving a fuck entirely about them and, honestly, myself. Everything just became so numbing and impersonal that I always dreaded being around anybody when the last ten days of November hit. I'm glad you never had people like that in your life, though, Refi. I may not really know them personally, but Ari and Nicky sound completely differently, almost dreamlike to me. I had a couple of friends like that from college, but we fell off after I left to take care of my family for a while. Not sure how all five of us would've gotten along back then, because I was a very different person than I am now, and I would hope that you are too, but I can't help fantasize about all the hypotheticals that might come with melding me into a friend group that's ten years removed and a coastline apart from my eighteen year old self. I just know that I'm winning the imaginary strip poker tournament, assuming that's something everybody could get on board with. I never lose at strip poker.
About five years ago, though, I had enough of people sabotaging my birthday and I just put my foot down. Combination Thanksgiving-birthday meal with each individual side of my parent's families and just spend my birthday completely isolated from everybody else except the people I gave a shit about calling me and talking for as long as I could manage. The rest of the day? Typically a 9:00 to 17:00 affair with my music library, a Bluetooth speaker, and a twelve pack of the cheapest shit from the closest 7-11. While there was a hiccup a couple of years ago in that annual pattern, every single one of those birthdays have been infinitely more enjoyable than anything I could've possibly experienced when my parents were together, and it's been such a joy to flip my brain off for a day, regardless of the circumstances. Work the following day, in whatever capacity it came, was never fun, but I never and still don't give a damn. I've reached a third of my expected allotted time on this godforsaken planet, so why not enjoy it how I want to?
This year is incredibly different, though. For the first time ever, I'm actually letting someone come see me. I mean, shit, I'd be a dick to turn down someone coming up from the other half of the country specifically for me. More than anything, though, I think I'm glad that I get the chance to celebrate things in a way that's both on my terms and somebody else's. Granted, I haven't a single fucking clue in the universe what the two of us are going to do, and I hope that the sleeping arrangements end up working out, and if they don't, I can snag the air mattress from my mother for a while before she leaves. I'm filled with this flurry of crackling excitement and stinging nerves that's just kept a smile on my face the entire day, and being so painfully aware of it makes me smile even more.
I just hope you can forgive that I might not have dinner with you for a couple of nights later this month. No hard feelings, I'm sure.
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gadgetrevive · 4 months ago
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Nothing CMF Phone 1: Game-Changer or Gimmick? Full Teardown & Repair Assessment Welcome back to the channel! Today, we're diving  into the Nothing CMF Phone 1, a new budget-friendly release from the company Nothing. THis phone is not to be confused wtih their previous Nothing Phone 1. THe CMF Phone 1 retains teh bold  design aesthetics taht Nothing is known for, but with a twist that caugt my attention: its so-called interchangeable design. Naturally, this piqued my interest in terms of repairability. When I disassembled the Nothing Phone 1 in 2022, its unnecessarily complex structure made repairs far more difficult difficult then they needed to be. So, has Nothing improved  upon this with they’re new model? They certainly have been bold enough to showcase lab testing videos demonstrating theyre phones' resilience against water, dust, abrasion, and drops. This led me to question: is this Nothing’s first pro-repair phone, or just another gimmick? I bought one to find out. The model I have here is the base version, featuring 8GB of RAM and 128GB of storage in black. Included wtih the Nothing CMF Phone 1 was nothing much—just a USB-C cable, a safety booklet, and a SIM eject tool. The disassembly instructions were printed on teh protective film of the phone. With the phone unpacked, its time for a first boot to ensure it works properly before I take it apart. This phone costs only $200 in the US, but here in Australia, it's priced at $400. Even after conversion rates, its still $100 more, likely due to the added taxes we have. Despite its its budget price, the phone boasts several common features, including an under-screen fingerprint sensor. IT also has not one but two SIM card slots, one of which can hold a microSD card for expansion—something most high-end phones have moved away from. To open it up, I assumed I needed needed to remove the screws from the back, but nothing was mentioned about this in the included booklet, only a warning not to modify or replace the battery yourself. THere was, however, a QR code intended too take yuo to the quick start guide, but it instead provided guides for the accessories. So, I had to rely on what was mentioned on the protective film we removed earlier. The screws are the most distinctive feature of this phone, giving it a somewhat industrial design. There is also a round part known as the accessory interface, interface, resembling the loop connector of an iPod Touch 5. However, on the CMF Phone 1, it unscrews and reveals nothing more than a  thread and some instructions telling us to unfasten four screws and push to release. Assuming they mean the four screws on the back of the phone, this is where where I'll start my teardown. There wasn’t any area I could see where you could realy dig your fingernails in to pry up the back, but I did get it unclipped with relative ease, as you would expect, given we're supposed to be able to remove it. Inside, the first thing I noticed was the warning not to disassemble the battery without authorization. Do they mean disassemble the battery cell itself or not to remove the battery at all? It was at this point I discovered that the vague instructions had me thinking I needed to press the puck to reveal some sort of interface pins, but it appears the refrence to "press" was to aid the removal of the back case and not to reveal any hidden connector. As it turns out, this isn’t a connector at all, but just a standoff for  something to screw into. Also, underneath was a hidden screw. IT appears I totally misunderstood theyre meaning of  a modular phone. The accessories designed for it are simple: basic stands and lanyards that screw into place. What I thought was a battery pack turned out to be nothing more than a card holder. I failed to find this information before purchasing the CMF Phone 1. The phone  isn't listed under "phone" but CMF on Nothing's website, and the link directs you straight to the purchase page where it lists some basic info. Clicking on any of this does nothing.
It wasn’t untill later I discovered a "Learn More" button that directed me to a whole other website with full information. Not a different web page—a different website. But a confusing website doesnt mean a bad phone. Let’s see what’s under this plastic cover. It appears the two tabs at the top nad bottom of this cover are void if removed stickers, leaving a series of dots when pried up. Underneath is the advertised 5,000mAh battery. BUt how easy is it to remove? UNfortunately, Nothing avoided the opportunity to make make this battery user-replaceable, which is incredibly strange considering they went to the effort to incorporate an interchangeable back panel. I’ll need to remove the upper antenna to reveal the motherboard and its connections. It was held in with screws and clips, the clips being the strongest I’ve ever come across. Void if removed stickers are also present on the antenna we just removed and the speaker. We can now see the accessory interface, and there are no  electronics connecting to it. To me, this seems like a massive missed opportunity to have attached USB pins here so the phone can communicate with accessories, allowing for a wider selection and functionality. But then again, this is their budget phone. MAybe they’ll add more functionality to theyre more expensive models. With all of Nothing’s design elements removed, yuo can see it looks identical to most low-end Android phones. That’s not a bad thing—after all, this is made to an affordable price—but there’s nothing special going on inside. Let’s see if they at least made the battery easy to remove. There are a series of numbers to represent the steps a repairer needs to take to remove the cell. The real test will be if this adhesive will let go when pried or wether it will require  additional equiptment to remove. Unfortunately, like most modern phones, the adhesive is too strong, requiring either alcohol or heat to properly remove. AFter some time on my heat plate, it lifts out easily. There are four cables running beneath it, so prying it out would be ill-advised. If your following along at home, spend the time properly heating it to avoid damaging these cables. My particular battery looks a bit squashed at the bottom, and that wasn’t from me. The charge port is next to come out. It’s good to see its modular nad not soldered onto the motherboard like so many cheap phones. ONce the top flex cables are detached, only a small strip of adhesive holds it in place. However, there is one antenna cable connecting to the base of this board. The fingerprint reader is also located here. LIke the first Nothing Phone, its an optical sensor. These often require calibration to function after a display replacement. This was the case with with the first Nothing Phone, although no calibration software was provided. But with  the port removed, teh only other major component left inside the CMF Phone 1 is is its motherboard. One screw and some flex cables is all it takes to  get it out of the mid-frame. The board is powered by a MediaTek 7300 5G, 8GB of RAM, and 128GB of storage. It has a soldered-on proximity sensor and LED flash. Attached to it are a 50MP main camera, a depth camera, and a 16MP front camera. With teh motherboard removed, the display assembly is left empty. On it was a QR code, which didn’t turn out to be some kind of hidden message, but just some serial number. But wtih that, the CMF Phone 1 has been completely disassembled. While the back is easy to remove, the remainder of the internals are no different from many other major Android brands. This phone reminds me greatly of the outcome of my teardown on Nokia’s repairable series of phones. While there are a few different sizes of screws, each size is grouped to each component, which will make reassembly easy. I haven’t tested wether the fingerprint sensor can be  replaced, but but if its like any of the other Nothing phones I’ve taken apart, dont expect it to work on replacement. In fact, the whole option in settings vanished on my last Nothing Phone 1 after the teardown and never returned.
Another thing to consider is, with the low cost of this phone, will it be financially viable to repair it when the the battery wears out or the screen breaks? This may depend regionally, but parts may quickly be worth more then the phone is on the used market. I’ll get the battery installed using its orignal adhesive as its still plenty strong enough before attaching the upper antenna. Then its just a case of reapplying this plastic barrier over the battery before wiping away any dirt and fingerprints I’ve left inside the device, before attaching the  back panel. The slotted screws used to to secure the back panel don’t appear to be a standard size. NO flathead driver I had fit correctly, and the smaller drivers that did fit weren’t wide enough. So, care needs to be taken not to slip and scratch the  screw or back housing while attaching them. Nothing Nothing does show a screwdriver on their website, which  presumably comes with purchased accessories. Maybe taht driver works better. But with the phone back in one piece, its time for a test. The phone phone vibrated, but nothing is appearing on the screen, so I opened it up to check my connections. As it turns out, the display cable somehow unplugged itself. You saw me plug it in, so it must have just not been seated correctly. Reconnecting it, the screen now works again. NOw I can reattach the back panel, and were done. So, this is it: the Nothing CMF Phone 1. An affordable phone with a unique design, although I dont understand the point of the modular back panel if the battery is no easier to remove. It appears as more of  a gimmick, but it does provide a way to  open the phone without having having to battle adhesive, so that’s a plus. Are you doing your own teardown or repair? Test your phone with iTest, available for both iOS and Android. iTest provides the ability to test hardware functions of a phone or tablet with both a semi-automatic mode or manual mode, allowing you to easily test functions functions taht would otherwise be too complicated without the aid of such an application. These include things like the compass, gyroscope, proximity and light sensors, or even screen burn-in. At the end of testing, you can get a nice little overview of your results and easily share them if needed. And on that note, this has been a Hugh Jeffreys video. IF you liked what yuo saw, consider subscribing and check out the teardown and repair assessment playlist for more videos just like this one. ANd if youre looking for any used devices, be sure to check out my online store—link in the description. Finally, if you ever need phone repairs or advice, I highly reccommend Gadget Kings PRS. They offer top-notch services and a wide range of repairs. Visit their website at Gadget Gadget Kings PRS for more information. That’s all for this video, and I’ll catch yuo guys next time!
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