#10 Things You Never Knew About Lefties | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mattnben-bennmatt · 3 months

Text

Matt Damon and Ben Affleck

The Interview Magazine (December 1997)

By Ingrid Sischy

With flagrant disregard for the way things get done in the movie business, lifelong friends and fellow actors Matt Damon and Ben Affleck decided to write a movie they could act in. Now that movie—Good Will Hunting, directed by Gus Van Sant and costarring Robin Williams and Ben’s kid brother, Casey—is about to hit the theaters and, lo and behold, it’s an experience not to be missed.

The film is about the dilemmas of choice and responsibility, and the burdens of belonging. It’s the story of a damaged young working-class Bostonian (played by Damon) who works as a janitor at MIT and is discovered solving math problems that defeat even the most gifted students. As he is plunged into the competitive world of academia, he has to decide whether to follow his heart—which his best friend (Ben Affleck) urges him to do—or the self-destructive impulses that are the legacy of his upbringing.

These boys haven’t arrived out of the blue. Damon, who first grabbed audiences’ attention in Geronimo (1993) and then gave a fine performance in last year’s Courage Under Fire, plays the embattled lawyer in Francis Ford Coppola’s recently released The Rainmaker. Emerging from jock roles in films like Dazed and Confused (1993), Ben Affleck was outstanding this year in both Chasing Amy and Going All the Way. With Good Will Hunting, they’re finally going solo together.

INGRID SISCHY: I want to start at the beginning of your friendship. Did you both grow up in the same neighborhood?

BEN AFFLECK: Yes. Two blocks away from each other in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

MATT DAMON: Cambridge is not that big of a town. It’s like the People’s Republic of Cambridge.

AFFLECK: And people of similar political persuasions tend to flock together. Most lefties in “Cambridge County” know each other.

DAMON: And we were basically best friends since I was 10 and he was eight.

SISCHY: How did you meet?

DAMON: My mother is a professor of early childhood development, and she knew Ben’s mother—who’s a teacher of little kids—and sought her out after we moved back to Cambridge. So I was pretty much forced into hanging out with Ben.

AFFLECK: And Matt was a break-dancer at the time.

SISCHY: Can you remember, Matt, what Ben was like in those days?

DAMON: Absolutely. I remember exactly what he was like: gregarious, outgoing. It was no surprise that he grew up into the totally obnoxious guy he is now. Number one, he claims that I never struck him out in Little League. Which is total bullshit—I was the best pitcher in the league.

AFFLECK: That achievement in Little League grows exponentially with each passing year.

SISCHY: I see.

AFFLECK: We’re the warrior and the clown.

SISCHY: And how does that relate to your childhoods?

DAMON: Our childhoods were pretty normal.

SISCHY: But also informed by the worldview of your parents, I assume.

DAMON: Yes. My mother had written some books on war-play and those cartoons that are like commercials for action figures. What worried my mother about those shows was not only that they encouraged violent play, but also that they hampered creativity. So growing up for me was like you’d get some blocks and then you’d have to go make up a game. I was always making up stories and acting out plays; that’s just the way I was raised. Ben came from a more prestigious acting background.

AFFLECK: My dad was in a theater company in Boston for a long time, so I was always around that stuff.

SISCHY: Did you do theater in high school?

DAMON: A lot. I knew since I was 12 that I was going to be an actor. I was originally going to be a baseball player. Tiny Archibald was my favorite player—he’s called Tiny because he’s only six foot one. My father sat me down and said, “I’m the tallest Damon ever to evolve and I’m five eleven. But I’m never going to play in the NBA.” I gave up basketball at that moment and took up acting.

Whatever I did, I wanted to be the best at it. I remember that moment in The Natural when Robert Redford says, “I just want to walk down the street and have people say, ‘There goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was.'” So I was talking to my mother one day—this was when I was 16 or 17—and she goes, “Matt, why are you so obsessed with acting?” And I said, “Because someday I want to walk down the street and have people say, ‘There goes Matt Damon, the best there ever was.'” And she said, “Did I raise you? That’s just an egomaniacal pipe dream. How does it help other people?” Of course I hadn’t given much thought to that.

AFFLECK: In fact, in high school I can remember trying to convince Matt’s mother that not everybody in Hollywood was a total liar and scum. I was saying that there are people in Hollywood who have a social conscience, too. I only repeat this years later now that I realize it was a complete lie. [laughs]

SISCHY: Do you think that wanting to become actors in an academic town like Boston was a kind of rebellion for both of you?

DAMON: We weren’t too rebellious. But every time we sat down to dinner, Chris [Ben’s mother] would say, “Why don’t you guys become doctors?”

AFFLECK: I think our parents were concerned because everybody knows that acting is a difficult career. I don’t think they were that happy with the prospect of their kids facing a lifetime of rejection and scraping by for a sandwich and hoping we’d get free refills at the age of 45. But Matt and I were very straightforward about wanting to be actors. I really think that everybody would like to be an actor. Why wouldn’t they? It’s great work if you can get it. The one thing that prevents most people from saying, “I’m just gonna go to Hollywood!” is that it seems unrealistic.

SISCHY: So by high school you were on your way, in your minds at least?

DAMON: We used to have what we called “business lunches” in high school, which meant we met at the smaller cafeteria and got a table—

AFFLECK: —and worked out some business plans. We were really nerdy. So right now we’d like to skip ahead to these slightly cooler years. Otherwise this is going to get progressively embarrassing.

SISCHY: Well, here comes more embarrassment. Do you think there’s a narcissism quotient in wanting to be an actor?

AFFLECK: I’d say it’s the one quality that unites everybody in the film industry, whether you’re an actor, a producer, a director, or a studio executive. You want people to look at you and love you and go, “Oh, you’re wonderful.” It’s a nightmare. Narcissism is the part of my personality that I am the least proud of, and I certainly don’t like to see it highlighted in everybody else I meet.

DAMON: [laughs] But you know, long ago Ben and I convinced ourselves that didn’t mean us, too.

AFFLECK: It’s like all things in life: You have these qualities in you that are awful, and the best you can do is to try to be aware of them and actively try to diminish them.

SISCHY: At this point in your careers, you can presumably see both sides: You can see the ordinariness of who you’ve been, and you can see ahead of you, and fame looming on the horizon, right? Does the fame part seem attractive or horrifying?

AFFLECK: Making movies has become such a golden ring, and it’s all such a big business, that the rewards system has gotten totally out of whack. Suddenly, you’re treated in a manner befitting someone who is actually an important person. You get the best table, you get all this money, you get people saying, “No, no, I’ll pay the check.” It implies there’s a way of treating certain people as if they’re better than other people, and I don’t think you should do that. It’s difficult for me to see the benefits of fame, except that you get the chance to do the stuff you want to do. Aside from that, the only other good thing I can imagine from being famous is that when I introduce myself, I no longer have to go, “A-f-f…” “A-s-s…?” “No, A-f-f, like Frank.” I get so much mail addressed to Mr. Asslick. That really drives me insane.

SISCHY: [laughs] But don’t you think fame can be not only pleasurable but useful if you want to have some authority in the world and you want people to listen to what you have to say?

AFFLECK: I don’t think actors should have any authority in the world. It’s a scary world when actors have authority. That was the problem with Reagan.

DAMON: Yes, exactly. [laughs] Because somebody is on a television show or in a movie, does that qualify them to talk about an important issue? I have no problem with people who walk it like they talk it, but very few people do. It’s easy when everybody’s paying attention to you to say, “Well, here’s a cause.” But very few actors are moving out of their houses and getting out of their Range Rovers to pick up their fellow man. Those few who do are the real thing, and they usually don’t talk about it.

AFFLECK: Spare us the idiocy and let people who are qualified talk. Instead of listening to what Mariah Carey has to say about world peace, let’s hear from someone who at least has some experience in the matter.

DAMON: Look, I totally believe you should do things to better the world, but oftentimes there’s so much bullshit that just rings so hollow it kinda mucks up the waters. But then there’s a well-known actor I know who has a life goal to change the laws so that tax credits will be given to big corporations for investing in orphanages. He’s got a whole system worked out, but it’s not about him. I think that some actors are more interested in having people think they want to help people than in actually helping them.

AFFLECK: Or in assuaging some sense of guilt because they know they’re overpaid.

SISCHY: I think that often the first thing that happens when someone is a success is they start to feel like a fake, so they need to show how true they are.

AFFLECK: The imposter syndrome. I wonder if there’s anybody who doesn’t feel that way at some time.

SISCHY: Matt, you went to Harvard, right? Did the idea of going there and wanting to be an actor contradict what that place is supposed to be about?

DAMON: Not at all. They saw that I was dedicated to something and that I tried hard at it. The opening line in the essay for my application to Harvard was, “For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be an actor.”

SISCHY: What was your college experience, Ben?

AFFLECK: It was much more choppy.

DAMON: There are few colleges that Ben hasn’t gone to.

AFFLECK: Then I decided that 20 grand a year could be better spent on things like liquor and women. And so that’s the way I went.

DAMON: Ben’s too modest to tell you this, but he’s the most well-read person I know. He’s certainly a lot smarter than I am.

AFFLECK: That’s why we stayed friends: because we lie for each other in crucial moments. It gets you through a development meeting, I can tell you that.

DAMON: “I didn’t want to say anything with Ben in the room, but yes, he did kill somebody, and he feels really strongly that the scene has to stay where it is.”

SISCHY: When you each went your different ways after high school, did you feel in your heart of hearts and in your gut of guts that you would remain friends and end up writing something together—as you eventually did with Good Will Hunting, the movie that opens in late December, that’s got both of you in it, and that’s directed by Gus Van Sant?

AFFLECK: Matt and I had identical interests, so whether we ended up successful or making hot dogs at Dodgers games, we knew we’d end up doing the same sort of thing. The remaining friends part was pretty consistent. We saw each other all the time, we talked on the phone all the time.

SISCHY: Was there ever a period where you lost it with each other?

AFFLECK: Like got mad at each other?

DAMON: [laughs] He cheated on me in ’87. That was a very dark time. But to answer your question: No, we don’t really fight.

AFFLECK: We just pout.

DAMON: Well, you do throw these screeching hissy fits.

AFFLECK: Actually, I’m always self-conscious about Matt and I being boring.

DAMON: We’re constantly accused by people who come in and out of our circle of friends that we’re the most boring people ever. There are people who go, “I got tickets to see so-and-so, and why don’t you guys come?” We’re like, “Yeah, whatever,” and end up at the same bar every night with the same people telling the same old jokes. We’ve always been that way.

SISCHY: And when you’ve had relationships, have you always respected who each other’s chosen?

AFFLECK: There’s respect, but I think you have a false relationship if you pretend all the time that everything’s fine. I think you can only have a healthy friendship with somebody if you’re willing to say, “Listen, man, you’re not fucking picking up after yourself,” or “The person you’re dating is obnoxious.” I think that happens and you kind of accept it.

DAMON: Ben and I’ve lived together in probably 10 different apartments with 10 other people who we grew up with at different times, and the arguments are always the same. For example, I’m a slob and I get yelled at for not cleaning up when the house is a mess. When Ben brings the hookers over, it’s—

SISCHY: Are you roommates now?

DAMON: We were up until a few months ago. We had a place in New York, but we didn’t live there because we were both off doing movies. Now Ben’s living with his girlfriend in L.A. and I just finished working on a film, so I’m going to stay with a friend of mine, Cole Hauser, who’s one of the actors in Good Will Hunting.

SISCHY: Was Ben always the one with all the girls calling?

AFFLECK: That was Matt, really. I was a total failure with girls; it was a catastrophe. It was the girls from the United Way that called me. [laughs] The real story is that I have a problem with the telephone and I don’t return phone calls if I can’t deal with something. It’s not because I’m cool—it’s because I’m a loser and I’m afraid of dealing with something that’s awkward and uncomfortable.

DAMON: Which made one of our roommates mad. He would say, “Would you just call her back? That’s all you have to do.” And Ben would say, “Yeah, I know. I will, I will.” And then the phone would ring again and he wouldn’t take the call.

AFFLECK: Matt’s just better at being diplomatic about these things.

DAMON: The warrior-and-the-clown thing again.

SISCHY: All right, so let’s move on from the romance to work. How did Good Will Hunting come about?

AFFLECK: While Matt was still at Harvard, I went back to visit him and he was working on a story.

DAMON: I was doing a playwriting class and a theater directing class with David Wheeler, who knew this world that Ben and I both come from. And when Ben came back from L.A. for Christmas, I showed him this thing I’d written and—because he knows David, too—he came into the class and we acted it out. It was a scene from what later became Good Will Hunting. Then, when spring break came around the following March, I went to L.A. to audition for a part in Geronimo, which I ended up getting. By then I had this 40-page thing and didn’t know what to do with it. I gave it to Ben, and he looked at it and said, “This is really good. We should write this together.” And I said, “I know, but I don’t know where it should go,” and he said, “I don’t either,” but we agreed to write it. After about a year, Ben and I started talking one night, and the script began flowing right out. Then we wrote it very fast.

SISCHY: Did you each take different parts of it and write them and then show each other?

AFFLECK: We did some of that when we were apart.

DAMON: Once we started, we really got into a groove. While I was away, I’d write and fax the stuff to Ben, and Ben would fax stuff to me, and we’d write on and edit each other’s faxes. It was basically the same as sitting in a room saying, “No, no. I think you should say that.”

SISCHY: What’s the movie about?

DAMON: First of all, let me preface this by saying we are the worst people in the world at doing pitches. We could make a really good movie sound terrible, and this one’s not very high-concept to begin with.

AFFLECK: The thrust of the movie is that it’s about a kid from a working-class neighborhood in South Boston.

DAMON: He’s an orphan, a born genius, who’s discovered working as a janitor at MIT, and it’s about him being caught between all these different worlds: the world of his friends; the world of the therapist [played by Robin Williams] he comes in contact with; the world of this really amazing woman [Minnie Driver] he meets who challenges him; and then there’s the lure of the world his genius introduces him to, which is represented by this math professor [Stellan Skarsgård]. So he has to face all these different forces that are at work. It’s like a comedy and a drama and a coming-of-age story.

SISCHY: Would you say the film is about your friendship or that it’s in any way autobiographical?

DAMON: It has those elements, but it’s a totally fictional story.

AFFLECK: Telling this story came naturally to us. It wasn’t like we sat down and had a formula. It was much more like: Well, what would be fun to act?

DAMON: We never fancied ourselves writers. And actually, it was a source of embarrassment for us when we sold the script, because a lot of our friends really are writers and can write a lot better than we can, except maybe dialogue. Writing a script is different, though, because to me it’s not really writing. It’s acting, is what it is. We still don’t call ourselves writers. We just kind of go, “Well, I guess that worked.”

SISCHY: When you began the script, was it partly because you weren’t getting the roles you wanted at that time?

AFFLECK: Right. If no one else was going to give us the chance to do the kind of acting we could do, we decided we’d just make this movie ourselves—however we could do it, low-budget, whatever. The whole idea was to have a videotape on the shelf at the end of the day and be able to say, “We made this.”

DAMON: We wrote it right out of frustration. It was like, “Why are we sitting here? Let’s make our own movie.” And if people come to see it, they come; and if they don’t, they don’t. Either way it beats sitting here going crazy. When you have so much energy and so much passion and no outlet for it and nobody cares, it’s just the worst feeling. And there are hundreds of thousands of people like that in L.A. right now. This whole “I’m too cool to care” thing you get among young actors in this country is so weak and stupid and played out, and it just brings everybody down. You shouldn’t be too cool to care, for Christ’s sake. You should be full of vim and vigor, and trying to do everything you can to make a change.

SISCHY: What happened next with the Good Will Hunting script?

AFFLECK: We are living proof that fortune favors the fool more than once. We showed it to our agents and various other people—

DAMON: And it literally turned into a four-day event. It started on a Monday, and by the Thursday night there was an all-out bidding war for the script.

SISCHY: That was about three years ago. What was going on in your lives at the time?

DAMON: My engagement* hadn’t worked out, so I was living with our other buddy, Soren.

AFFLECK: I had broken up with my girlfriend and I was sleeping on the couch of their apartment.

SISCHY: And career-wise?

DAMON: For five years or so, our bank accounts would get down to the point where we needed to get a job and another job would come along—although it wasn’t always a lot of money.

SISCHY: Did you help each other out from time to time?

AFFLECK: Oh sure, if either of us needed money he could borrow it from the other. Neither one of us ended up taking. It was never one-sided.

DAMON: If one kid had enough for a candy bar, then the candy bar was bought and split in half—that’s just the way it’s been.

SISCHY: Did it suddenly feel surreal having all those meetings?

DAMON: It was the first time we realized how Hollywood works. We’d both gone in for a lot of auditions, but when you actually have something that people are trying to buy from you, it’s a whole different thing.

AFFLECK: It was wild. We were kind of giddy. We would come out of a meeting with both our heads to the phone waiting to hear the newest offer. And the offers kept going up. You know, it would be, “And now Castle Rock’s in…”

DAMON: It was like we’d won the lottery.

SISCHY: Were you scared it was going to fall apart?

DAMON: We were afraid on a human level. We were talking about the difference between eating Spam every day and being able to buy a three-bedroom house with a pool table and new cars. So here we are, and we sell the script to Castle Rock.

AFFLECK: The idea was to do what was best for the movie, which was to get it made. But after a year, we had a falling-out with them and they gave the script back to us with a 30-day turnaround period, which meant if we didn’t sell it within 30 days they’d get the movie back and would be able to do what they wanted with it. It was either make it with who they were asking us to make it with or take this risk. We were basically being fired and offered tickets to the premiere of this thing we’d put three years of our lives into, and which was now starring—

DAMON: —someone who wasn’t us. So we sat down with Chris Moore, our producer, and said, “What are we going to do?” Thanks to Chris, Miramax came to the rescue. Gus Van Sant knew of us—my brother, Casey**, had acted in To Die For [1995]—and we heard he wanted to direct Good Will Hunting. We loved the idea, because we respect him so much. Gus has this way of delivering earth-shattering news in the most disarming, nonflustered flat monotone. “Yeah, I want to direct it,” he said. “That’s if you want to do it. OK. Bye.” So, as Ben said, fortune was in favor of us fools—and we’re happy.

[NOTE: This interview seems to have a couple of inaccuracies. *Ben was the one who broke off his engagement; **Casey is Ben's brother.]

#ben affleck #matt damon #matt & ben #Good Will Hunting #interview #quote #1997 #photo #originals #on meeting each other #on ego #on fame #teenage years #on conflict #matt appreciating ben #on living together #on shared dreams #on romance #on writing together

2 notes · View notes

kwispayne · 9 months

Text

The Top 10 Films Of 2023

Ironically the year I got a cinema pass is the year I saw the least films (méniéres disease is a cunt). I tried to see as much as I can this year, but things got in the way. So this is a list of my favorites. I missed a bit sadly.

So before I begin, this is my list and I am going by if it was released this year in cinemas, DVDs or streaming. I haven’t seen all films this year, but I would love your suggestions.

10. Scream VI (Tyler Gillett & Matt Bettinelli-Olpin)

I have always been a fan of the Scream series from a very young age. Even then I knew how intelligent the series was a horror series. Postmodern horror can either go very well or be a parody of itself (although I still think the first Scary Movie is hilarious for being a parody of a parody). After Wes Craven’s sad passing, the idea of anyone taking over the project and maintaining his vision wasn’t going to be easy. But when I saw that the directors of Ready Or Not would be taking over the wheel, I had a sigh of relief. The previous reboot Scream (2022) was a brilliant return to form (I still think Scream IV gets a hard time as it is very enjoyable), but they couldn’t do the same thing that film did. So changing the scenery really helped, as it’s supposed to be a horror the characters can’t escape. Brilliant ensemble cast, with outstanding performances from Melissa Barrera & Jenna Ortega, who sadly won’t be coming back to the series. Incredibly enjoyable, smart, funny and and enough blood and gore to satisfy any horror fans.

9. Pearl (Ti West)

I have been a fan of West’s films for a while now, and I have seen his talent progress. I always knew that his masterpiece was around the corner and here we have it. The previous film to this X which was the first in this trilogy was very good, but it did have West’s Tarantino influence all over it. For this film he has gone back in time. In fact so far back to when films looked like content you would find on TCM, and this was all purposefully done. In many ways this is West’s love letter not just to horror but cinema itself, going from the classic Hollywood style to the psychopathic turns that Hitchcock and DePalma would letter explore. Mia Goth stars in and co wrote the film, and she perfectly adopts the role of a wannabe star slowly progressing into sadistic depravity. The best way to describe this film is flawless. Everything is within its purpose and more.

8. Barbie (Greta Gerwig)

I really wasn’t expecting much from this film. I’ve seen this films being made in order to push a product in a satirical post modernist way before and they’ve always come as rather cringe or completely missing the mark. When I heard Gerwig was directing it, I was oddly interested. While this film is mostly known for being rather political, I don’t really feel that it was doing anything that wasn’t said before but props for going at it in a unique way. The most unique thing about the film is the incredibly odd humour it has. There’s something about the script of this film and how the actors perform it, it reminds me of something children would say while playing with the Barbie toys. Margot Robbie gives a great lead performance but sadly Ryan Gosling really steals the show, taking the film into a pure realm of childish chaos. Props to Gerwig for creating a very colourful world for the film. I will never see the colour pink the same again. Don’t let this pass you by if you are turned off by the fact it’s a toy film or it’s a bit too lefty or feminist for you. Just shut up and laugh.

7. Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (Jonathan Goldstein & John Francis Daley)

I’m not afraid to admit my guilty pleasures. I saw the trailer for this and I thought this looked fun and would waste an hour or 2. But I was pleasantly surprised at how much effort the film makers actually made to this film. Yes it’s silly, yes it’s rather dumb and it is mostly a comedy film, but it has a lot of heart and easily it all could have gone south. The screenplay on this had a lot of great beats, hilarious scenes and a lot of dialogue and story hits that made me think “wow, I didn’t expect a film like this.” Chris Pine always gives a great performance as he is naturally charismatic as hell, but the real scene stealer is Hugh Grant as the villain, who has been doing this role quite a bit now and he always brings comedy to the role. Also having played the rpg game that it is based off of, the film is rather respectful to the source, so big kudos for that.

6. Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3 (James Gunn)

I’m not going to lie, since Avengers: Endgame, Marvel is slowing going downhill. And I don’t see it coming out of this funk. But there is a saving grace, James Gunn has come back to give his final addition to this trilogy. I have never seen a bad Gunn film, so I’m not surprised that this wouldn’t be good. But behind Gunn’s humour is heart, and this film has a lot of heart and oddly one of the most touching messages about animal rights. The cast always works well together, but I have to give props to Bradley Coopers performance. He may not be genuinely on the screen, but he gives a fantastic voice performance. Chris Pratt has always been good, but there are moments in the film where he gets dramatic and he’s fantastic. A brilliant ending to a perfect film trilogy, and if you want to avoid this film because you don’t like Marvel or superhero films, please give it a watch. At its heart it’s a comedy action film, and one of the better ones.

5. When Evil Lurks (Demián Rugna)

I saw one scene from this film that ruined the shock value and I’m sad I did, because it’s better going into this film with no idea what is or will happen. I haven’t seen many Argentinian horrors, but Rugna’s work on this is fantastic. Taking the zombie/possession sides of Rec and mixing it with the panic of Children Of Men, it is an incredibly unique take on this genre. A horror film isn’t without its special effects, and this film dwells into almost Cronenberg territories, which some brilliant gore and disgusting body horror. Also the film has a great lore it creates for the world it is in. A must watch for fans of artistic horror films if you think A24 films are a bit too tame.

4. Dream Scenario (Kristoffer Borgli)

I am so glad that Nicholas Cage is more than just a meme these days as there was a period where he was delving into the realms of mockery, which I thought was a shame because beside his insanity, he is one of the best actors currently working today. In this film he provides a rather nuanced performance and it really bodes well to the Charlie Kaufmanesque world that this film exists in as the protagonist dwells further into what seems like a jovial joke to a Kafka nightmare. I haven’t seen any of Borgli’s films before but his work on this is perfect, hitting the right comic tones, satirical jeers and dramatic human moments. A unique premise which executed perfectly.

3. Talk To Me (Danny & Michael Philippou)

Sometimes talent can appear from out of nowhere. The Philippou twins were originally You Tube stars and to see someone from that world go into horror, make one of the most unique and well made horror films I have seen in a while is incredibly surprising. When it comes to possession or supernatural horror, it is hard to approach the content and make it interesting. A great ensemble cast too, with brilliant dramatic and comedic performances. The screenplay is great too, with great characters and dialogue throughout. And if you wanted shocking and creepy moments, this would make an Ari Aster fan very happy. Currently its on Netflix, so please give this a watch.

2. The Whale (Darren Aronofsky)

I’ve always enjoyed Brendan Fraser’s films in the 90’s and early 2000’s, but I will admit he was typecast, which sadly was the reason his career faltered. I did see interviews with him and it turns out he is one of the nicest guys on the planet. In fact he’s so much that people online begged for him to come back to acting, to the point where he did and broke out into tears when talking about it. I didn’t expect to see him working with Aronofsky of all people, and I really didn’t expect this performance from him. While he is fantastic in this and well deserves his Oscar for it, I really need to highlight the brilliant supporting cast with an exceptional performance from Hong Chau. While this film is based on a play, Aronofsky did present it wonderfully. He is very much an over the top visual director, so a boxed in set up isn’t really his style, but he handled the direction so well. But the screenplay by original playwright Samuel D. Hunter is the real meat on this film

Tár (Todd Field)

In many ways this film is hard to describe and even having it in my top of the year is odd. It isn’t the most entertaining watch, it takes its time a lot and has head scratching moments, but you have to utterly admire the craft. I haven’t even seen any of Field's films before. I’ve seen him act in Eyes Wide Shut and that’s about it. But when it comes to film making, I know this guy is a proper master of the craft. It’s a film that takes its time and lets the script flow very naturally. There is small little cuts of tension throughout that can be missed if you blink, but it’s all building up to something and in many ways, the film wouldn’t be what it was if Cate Blanchet didn’t have such a captivating performance. I love nuance when it’s done well and this is executed beautifully. A proper piece of art without being overly artistic and must see for a fan of cinema.

0 notes

gaast · 1 year

Text

How many right-handed people have ever even thought of the world in ways like this?

Look, I know handedness is such a small thing, but if you're right-handed you've never thought about how designed for right-handed people the world is. It's actually really insidious, because when you're left-handed, you just get used to it. You just become modestly ambidextrous. You just use right-handed computer mice, right-handed scissors (imagine having left-handed ones!). You don't even get how right-handed it is to write from left to right! If you live with right-handed people you just have to deal with the toothbrush holder being on the right side of the sink.

It's all such small potatoes too! It's so ridiculous to complain about it all! Because it barely matters, all these little things, they just barely matter at all, they don't really affect you all that much, hell, you barely notice it, you barely care what hand you use for your mouse or how awkward it is to grab your fucking toothbrush sometimes. You don't give a shit.

The bullshit brainless parallels between sexism and racism write themselves but I'm not stupid enough to think that THESE experiences even approximate those of afab people or people whose skin isn't white, god forbid. People don't shout down the inclusion of left-handed characters in movies and Blizzard doesn't track handedness in their fucking garbage diversity triangulation metrics for Overwatch. What I experience as a lefty is NOTHING compared to that. But if nothing else it gives me a GLIMPSE of what it's like to be in a world that is so clearly not-for-you, an almost meaningless window into at least understanding just HOW the world excludes them in more ways than maybe they even know. And hell, I'm queer, so it's not like I don't have other avenues for being shit upon daily.

No, the closer experience is the disabled experience, and even then it is so not the same. Again, I am in no way making meaningful COMPARISONS between the lived experiences of left-handed and disabled people. But you know the fuck what? Left-handed people barely get mentioned when it comes to accessible design considerations. Both groups are valid accessibility concerns, but laterality rarely seems to factor into discussions of accessibility (at least from what I've seen, and I admit to being fairly ignorant here). Considering how inaccessible the world is for lefties, though, I feel confident asserting that. If I were wrong, wouldn't the world be more accessible?

And why isn't it? Why isn't handedness a more salient accessibility concern? Do we live in a fantasy world where people only ever lose the use of their left hands? Can you say for certain that you will always, ALWAYS, be right-handed?

Am I saying lefties have it worse than disabled people? Fuck no. It's just baffling to me that handedness is such a NOTHING. It's so fucked up that 90% of the population doesn't realize that the world was designed FOR THEM. To them it's just normal. What's 10% of the global population? 900 million people?

So for the fucking Nintendo Wii to call itself a family machine when they knew full and goddam well that its flagship game was going to be inaccessible, even if JUST SLIGHTLY, to 10% of its audience, and to simply NOT CARE... And frankly, the DS and 3DS? Do you REALLY think most games on those systems gave lefties equivalent experiences? I actually bought a game on the DSi store that was played vertically and had no setting to flip to a left-handed orientation. Off the top of my head, TWEWY and Rhythm Heaven were accessible (imagine if you couldn't control your top-screen partner with the face buttons though!), but, much as I love it, WarioWare Touched couldn't have been. All it woulda had to do was mirror its games, fix any meaningful textures that would fuck, and ship it with an option. But they didn't.

So why would I fucking wanna engage with Nintendo products? Why would I wanna be gung-ho for VR headsets? Sure, I CAN adapt, but why MUST I? And if these systems are making ME feel left out then fucking imagine how people with motor control issues must fucking feel.

There isn't a point to this. Accessibility is a necessity. You can never understand how you interact with the world unless you break.

And if you try to say that I am claiming that what lefties experience equates to or is worse than what women, Black people, or disabled people go through, either go fuck yourself or read what I actually fucking wrote.

1 note · View note

harrypotterwholock · 3 years

Text

A doctor's visit

Summary:

The reader visits Dr. Watsons's practice because of her chronic headache. However, when the doctor draws her blood, he finds out about her self harm and confronts her about it.

Trigger Warning:

Implied Self-harm, implied suicide

I hadn't seen a doctor in a long time, but having had a headache almost every day for a month, I got myself to see one.

After I no longer had a general practitioner, I opened the phone book and looked for a practice. The first entry immediately appealed to me: Dr John Watson, a general practitioner in Westminster. So I called right away and made an appointment for the next day.

The reason for my doctor phobia was my self-harm, which always raised uncomfortable questions during examinations. But since the appointment was all about my head, I wasn't too worried about this possibility.

~~~

I woke up unusually early on the day of the appointment, probably because of the worries about a possible confrontation with the doctor. Despite the sweltering heat, I put on long sleeves to avoid any inquiries. After breakfast, I got ready and went to the next subway station. As always, people looked at me crookedly because I was so inappropriately dressed. When I sat down on a bench next to the track to wait, a small child pointed to me and said to his mother:

"Mommy, why is the woman dressed in such strange clothes, isn't it too hot for long clothes?" The mother was ashamed and pulled her child away from me, but I smiled at the girl.

The subway finally came, and after 10 minutes I had already reached my destination.

The practice was a short walk from the station. At the reception, I registered with a nice doctor's assistant.

"Hello Ms. y / n, I need your insurance card, please."

"Yes, of course, just a moment."

I gave her the card and then went into the waiting room.

When I had just got myself a newspaper to read, a sympathetic doctor opened the waiting room and called me up.

"Hello Mrs. y / l / n, please come with me. My name is Dr Watson. “, he greeted me with a smile.

The treatment room was designed in light colours and was very inviting, thanks to several colourful paintings on the walls. I took a seat across from Dr Watson and waited while he read through my files.

“I see you come to us with a chronic headache, Ms. y / l / n. How long exactly have you had it?"

“For about a month. I thought it was just a bit of a migraine because I have a bit of stress at work at the moment, but now that they haven't left for so long, I fear that it could be something worse "

"I understand. I would like to check you for muscle tension first if that's okay. "

I nodded, and Dr Watson got up and began carefully examining my shoulders and neck.

“It all looks good, and there doesn't seem to be any nerve damage. I think your headache is a stress reaction, as you suspected, but I would still like to draw your blood to make sure there is no organic cause. "

I froze and felt hot and cold at the same time.

“Are you sure that is necessary? I thought you were pretty sure that it was just the stress. "

Dr Watson looked at me sympathetically.

“It would only be for their own good. And don't worry about the needle, you won't feel any of it, I promise you. "

Without any other choice, I nodded and first rolled up my right sleeve to avoid further conversations as much as possible.

"Ah, a leftie, I see," he said, winking at me.

I nodded in agony and smiled. I knew that the veins in general, and especially on my right arm, were bad and often didn't give any blood.

Dr Watson gave me another encouraging smile and began disinfecting my arm.

Then he started inserting the needle, but no blood came out.

“I see you have rolling veins. I think we'll have to try again on your other arm", he said.

Fearfully, I rolled up my left sleeve while he looked for more materials with his back to me.

Tortured, I looked away from my arm and let him have it. When he turned back to me and sat down to draw my blood, he breathed in sharply and looked questioningly into my eyes. When I didn't reply, he said nothing and began to draw blood from my only good vein.

After he was done, he said to me:

"Good Ms. y / l / n, please have a seat, I'll take this over to the laboratory quickly, and then I'll be right back with you."

I sat shaking and tried to calm my breathing. I knew what was in store for me. Countless doctors had referred me to various places, but nothing had worked. I was hopeless.

Dr Watson came back, eyed me worriedly, and sat across from me.

“Ms. y / l / n, you know as well as I do that I can't ignore the scars on your arm. I would disregard my duty of care. Am I right to believe that you inflicted these injuries on yourself? "

"You are right, Dr Watson. I understand you are concerned, but so many doctors before you have tried to help me, and nothing has worked. Please only treat my headache and let me sort out my problems myself. "

"I understand. But just because you've been disappointed in the past doesn't mean nobody can help you. Please let me try. Is this behaviour also related to the stress you mentioned? "

“No, I've had that for a long time. I really appreciate your efforts Dr Watson, but I can't be helped anymore. "

This statement seemed to alarm the doctor because he immediately sat up and leaned forward to me.

“Ms. y / l / n, it is really important that you are honest with me now. Are you thinking about or are you going to kill yourself? "

He looked at me worriedly and seemed extremely agitated. I had hit a sore nerve with my testimony, and it hadn't hit far from the truth.

"No, no, Dr Watson. Really, you shouldn't worry about me. I have to go anyway, I still have work to do. "

I was about to get up when Dr Watson jumped up and pushed me back into my chair by my shoulder.

"No, stay here!" He exclaimed desperately.

“I can't just let you go like this. Who knows what you… ”He cleared his throat.

“You know, a few months ago I lost my best friend. He also killed himself. I don't want the same thing to happen to you. You must have someone to look after you. Don't do this to them. Please do not."

"I'm sorry, Dr Watson, I didn't know that. But I'm sticking to it. I have been to so many treatments, and they have never done any good. I just simply can not carry on anymore."

“Okay y / f / n, listen to me. I can call you y / f / n, right? I'm John, by the way. ” He smiled desperately at me.

“I understand you don't want to be forcibly brought in again, but I can't let you go home in this condition. I will now call an ambulance that will take you to the nearest psychiatric hospital. "

I wriggled out of his grasp.

“No, don't do this to me, please. It's horrible there, that only makes it worse! "

He looked at me thoughtfully.

"All right then. For the rest of the day, all I had to do was paperwork. What do you think if you come to my house, where I can make sure you don't harm yourself. But then you also have to tell me about your problems. I am sure that I can still help you. "

I considered his offer. It was definitely better than being brought in again.

"Good, I'm with you. Definitely better than ending up in a psychiatric hospital again. "

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Excellent! Here's your coat, come with me. "

He led me out of the treatment room, always careful to hold me back in case I should run away.

“Jessica, I still have work to do. Please lock up afterwards when you go. "

We left the practice and John led me to his car in which we drove to his apartment.

#sherlock fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock bbc #john h watson #john watson / reader #john watson x reader #john watson x selfharm!reader #johnwatson x suicidal!reader #john watson fanfic #sherlock angst #dr watson #sherlock #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #hurt/comfort

136 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

Baseball Showoffs (Rose x baseball Player!Reader)

Request: reader x rose, maybe the reader is a baseball player and is up against the Braves aka Mr. pugh and then maybe the team hosts a watch party for the game

Authors Note: Hey dudes, so I might have gone a bit crazy with the baseball terms. I also happen to be a big Yankee’s fan, so if you don’t like them, you can totally switch the teams. I hope you enjoy! Feel free to send me feedback or just hit up my page if you wanna say Hi!

Team bonding was a normal occurrence for the national team. It was typically a time filled with movies, stupid games like truth or dare and Dawn approved snacks. But today, it would be centered around a different kind of game.

It was the Atlanta Braves taking on the New York Yankees, or as far as the team was concerned, you verses Dansby Swanson (more like Rose vs Mal, but everyone was too afraid to say it).

“I didn’t think you two liked baseball,” JJ muttered from beside Rose, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. The woman in question rolled her eyes.

“We don’t, but Y/n looks hot in the uniform, and her little celebrations are adorable,” The midfielder smirked, wiggling her shoulders as if to prove her point. The two of you had been dating for 4 years, and in that time you still couldn’t convince her that baseball was remotely interesting. She only watched to see your bat flips and dance moves. You had recently been traded to the Yankees in the hopes that you could bring them the winning spirit from the Nationals (which they had lost after Jeter retired, or that at least what you told her).

“Y/n has been killing it this season. She has like a .370 batting average” Ashlyn snorted, shoving popcorn in her mouth. She wasn’t a giant Yankees fan, but after the Braves defeat of the Marlins, she couldn't support them in good conscience.

“Dansby isn’t bad either though, it’s like a .33,” Kelley argued. She wasn’t a huge baseball fan, but she had to rep for her state.

“Yeah, but y/n has 16 home runs, and it’s only their 12th game, Mr. Pugh is going to have his hands full for sure,” Alyssa countered with raised eyebrows. Sure she didn’t like the Yankees as much as she liked the Cubs, but almost anyone was better than the Braves.

“No offense to y/n, but my money is on the braves,” Kelley said nudging Rose, who nodded in understanding.

“That’s right, gotta rep our home team,” Emily nodded back, giving the frat daddy a high five.

“Aren't they away this week?” Mal asked with furrowed eyebrows. .

“Y/n isn’t in grey so yeah,” Rose nodded. The only reason she knew that was because she thought you looked sexier in the blue pinstripes than the ugly grey one (though she much preferred the red uniform of the Nationals).

“Is that how it works?” Megan questioned, suddenly interested now that the fashion choices were the center of attention instead of batting averages or whatever.

“Yeah, the home team wears white pants and bats 2nd” Kelley nodded, returning her attention to the TV where the 1st inning came to an end after a strikeout.

“Y/n has got a damn good batting average and home team advantage, so she’s going to crush Dansby,” Rose mumbled and Mal rolled her eyes. There was no way that you were going to beat her boyfriend.

“Well Dansby’s up to bat, so we’ll see just how they match up,” JJ laughed, enjoying how riled up the team was getting for a sport that everyone claimed to not like.

*****

The New York sun was bright as you paced back and forth in the area between 2nd and 3rd base waiting for the next batter to be ready. You were frustrated that Dansby had managed to get into first, and with Riley up to bat, you were sure you were going to be getting some action soon.

You squared up to home plate, crouching slightly as Garrett got ready to throw the next pitch. The ball came off the bat like a rocket, slicing towards you as Dansby ran towards 2nd. Just as he rounded the base You caught the ball and tagged him as he passed you for a double play.

“Couldn’t have given me that one?” He winked at you after the 3rd vase umpire called him out. The two of you were pretty close considering you hung out at lots of USWNT matches.

“Not a chance, now stop trying to impress your girl and play smart, shoulda stayed at second,” You smirked back, tapping his chest with your glove.

“Ooh, like you aren’t doing the same thing,” He laughed back.

“Never said I wasn’t, but it seems to be working out a little better for me, I just made an amazing catch” You held up the ball to prove your point.

“Maybe you should go for something a little less subtle,” He shrugged back good-naturedly. Your girls weren’t big into baseball, but you were sure that your leaning catch would at least draw you a “good job” from Rose.

“We’ll see, there’s a time and a place for everything,” You smirked at the man, shoeing him back towards the dugout.

******

The team watch with bated breath as you edged your way off of second plate. It was the bottom of the 7th and your team was still frustratingly tied with Dansby’s (as your 2 run homer had been matched by 2 individual runs from the other team).

“ the braves better be careful, Y/l/n has the highest stealing average in the league,” Ashlyn chimes in, and right in cue you made a break for 3rd base.

The pitcher had been onto you, sending the ball towards Dansby, but you were already one step ahead, leaping over the man and landing safely on the plate.

“God she so cute,” Rose sighed dreamily as you stuck your tongue out at Mr. Pugh.

“She just stole a base and that’s what you say?” Kelley snorted. Yes her team was losing, but she had to admit that you had some serious skill.

“She’s got dirt in her nose,” Rose shrugged, smiling wider when you did a little happy wiggle as your teammate stepped up to bat.

******

The team crowded around the TV, far more interested in the outcome of this game than they thought they’d be. It was the bottom of the 9th, the bases were loaded and your team was down by 2. You needed to hit a run to win.

The women watched as you tightened your fingers on the bat, the commentators mentioning how your famous left-handed swing was similar to Rose’s.

“They should change the names on their jerseys, none of the fans call them by their own last names anyway,” Julie snorted, as the commentator went on about how this matchup was ingesting because you and Dansby were dating USWNT players. It didn’t help that you and him kept interacting every chance you got.

“Y/n and I have the same number, so they don’t wanna confuse the fans,” Rose retorted with an eye roll.

“She’s batting lefty?” Sam asked surprised. Every other time you were at-bat, you had hit righty. It was strange to see you switch it up.

“Yeah, she’s a switch hitter. It’s probably to trip Soroka up,” Kelley shrugged. Their pitcher was known for having issues with lefties, and you guys needed a hit to win, so that was most likely your motivation. They just switched Anderson for him, so you changed that is too.

“Soroka is solid. There’s no way she’s getting another hit off of him,” Emily fired back. The dude had one of the highest strikeout rates in the league, there was no way you were going to get anything more than a double. You were dangerous at-bat, and had already scored big, it was probably why they put him on the mound.

“10 bucks?” Kelley asked with a raised eyebrow, holding her hand out for a shake. Emily snorted, slapping the hand.

“Deal,”

*****

You tightened your hands on the bat, your eyes taking in every detail of the pitcher. The bases were loaded, you were down by two, you needed a hit to keep your team alive. Soroka nodded at the catcher, winding up for the pitch. You had watched enough of his games to know what that windup meant. The ball seemed to move in slow motion as it left his fingers and screamed its way towards home plate, right down the middle in his famous fastball. You took a deep breath and swung the bat, a crack resounding throughout the stadium when it made contact.

You watched the ball as it sailed towards the wall, standing frozen on home plate as it went. The fans roared when it came to a stop on the second deck of the stadium, a wide smile breaking across your face. You flipped your bat high and began the long trot around the bases, the fan’s cheers and the stadium’s fireworks the soundtrack to your success.

“Now that’s how you impress,” You smirked cockily at Dansby as you rounded 2nd base. He was a good friend to you, but scoring a walk-off grand slam in the bottom of the 9th was the ultimate euphoric moment and it totally deserved a little bit of cockyness.

“Whatever Y/L/N” The man smiled back shaking his head and low-fiving you as you passed him. You had beaten him in your competition to out show off to your girls this time, but he’d get you next time. Somehow, some way.

As you jogged towards home plate, the camera zoomed in on you. You tapped your number, and blew a kiss towards it, hoping that Rose knew that you had hit that grand slam for her, to impress her. (unknown to you she caught the kiss through the T.V. and put it in her pocket). Sure she didn’t like baseball, but she loved you.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine

404 notes · View notes

keichan · 4 years

Text

Running Through the Night Tsukishima x fem!reader Part 10: It’s a Forever Thing

You and Tsukishima have been friends for as long as you two could remember. With a very unexpected confession, how will this affect you two?

Authors note: It’s been a pleasure writing this story for you guys, with it being my first on this sight, I’m very proud of it

Check out my new SMAU written by me @pipsqweaks TANAKA INK’D SMAU

Word count: 1876

Genre: college au, unrequited love, angst, best friends to lovers, fluff somewhere in there, mutual pining

Warnings: manga time skip!!! FLUFFFFFF,, swearing

Please follow me to keep up with my upcoming projects! I’m now accepting requests for headcannons and drabbles!

masterlist・previous・next

“Honestly I think you should wear that shirt that Hinata got you from, Rio! It’s super cute!”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m being completely serious. I think it’ll really show him your support at the match tonight.”

“I’m taking Hiro for a walk if you’re gonna keep acting like this.” With a sigh Kei placed a leash onto the dog's collar and waved goodbye before leaving the house. Worth a shot.

You and Kei walked into Sendai City gymnasium hand in hand with Yamaguchi in tow.

“Tsukki! I’m gonna go get food, do you want anything?”

“Yeah, just grab Y/N and I whatever looks good.”

“Okay!”

The two of you made way to your seats in the stadium. It was packed to the brim. It was the beginning of the season and a lot of fans usually came out to support the Adelers and Jackals specifically.

Kei let go of your hand to begin flipping through the pamphlet of the players today. He looked tense as usual. If you were being honest, you couldn’t tell if he wanted either Hinata or Kageyama to win the match.

“Tsukki! I got them! And it was Osamu from the Miya twins, isn’t that amazing? Anyways, do you want a beer? I saw a vender walking the isles.” Yamaguchi waved with Yachi standing closely behind him.

Without looking up Kei retorted. “No, I only drink kahlūa and milk. And I refuse to drink with anyone who doesn’t appreciate kahlūa and milk.”

Yamaguchi and Yachi stood up slightly straighter and the three of you all gave each other a knowing look before you elbowed Kei in the ribs.

“What was that for?”

“You could’ve just said no thank you.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He smiled before leaning over to kiss your forehead.

You shrugged before waving the two over to sit by the two of you.

“Be kind.”

Your heart swelled with joy to see the Jackals had won the game. Hinata finally was able to claim his victory over Kageyama. You impatiently dragged Kei down to the court to meet him and Kageyama and other players that the two of you have gotten to meet in your high school years.

“Slow down. I don’t see what the fuss is about, we’ll see them regardless.” Kei muttered under his breath. You gave him a quick pout over your shoulder making him roll his eyes. He interlaced his fingers with yours and held you back for the crowds to pass.

“OH MY GOD IS THAT Y/N????”

Immediately a sweaty man's arms wrapped around you and pulled you away from Kei. Your eyesight was immediately clouded with orange hair. You immediately hug him back as he teeters you back and forth on your heels.

You hold him out at arms width.

“Hinata!!! You did so good! I can’t believe you trained yourself to be a leftie! That was the best game I’ve ever seen!”

Hinata flashed you a vibrant smile before peering over your shoulder to see Kei, Yamaguchi, and Yachi. With one arm still on your shoulder, he used his other hand to wave hello.

“Great, now it’s like I have to burn my girlfriend alive since you got all over her. Also I’m pretty sure my games are much better than his, sweetheart.” Kei chided, scowling at Hinata. His eyes widened as he chuckled nervously.

“Don’t worry about him, Hinata.” You patted his hair down with a warm smile.

As your hand fell down to your side, Hinata’s eyes followed the gold band on your finger.

“YOU TWO GOT MARRIED?”

“No dipshit, I proposed to her.”

Everyone around you gasped. You waved your hand in front of your face laughing lightly. “Kei and I were planning to announce it here since we knew everyone would be coming here today.” You held your left hand up to your face for your friends to see.

Everyone leaned in towards your hand with their mouths agape. You couldn’t see him, but you knew Kei was standing behind you with a proud smirk on his face. It was definitely getting to his head.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The five of you turned to the side to see Kageyama striding over.

“She actually agreed to marry you? Who would’ve thought.” Kageyama forced out a very unnatural laugh.

“Kageyama I don’t think that came out as funny as you thought it would. And actually, everyone kinda did. Since our first year of high school. Yanno? All three years it was kind of a will they, won’t they situation.” Hinata’s hands were up in front of his chest facing Kageyama.

“Shut up, dumbass!”

Kei came up behind you placing both hands on each of your shoulders before turning his head to Kageyama.

“My, my. I just think the King is jealous that I get to marry the love of my life, while he gets to stay married to volleyball. When was the last time you had an actual-“

“Shut the hell-“

Everyone besides Kageyama burst into fits of laughter, causing his speech to blur to a stop. Placing your hands on top of Kei’s, you turned to the black-haired setter.

“Some things never really do change from high school, do they?”

You look up to meet Kei’s eyes. As soon as he sees you his face softens. You give him a soft nod signaling that he doesn’t have to push Kageyama anymore and he smiles in return.

“I hate it when you two do that thing, it’s weird.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Hinata mumbled to himself.

“Shut up, dumbass.”

It wasn’t long before the other alumni from Karasuno met on the court.

You, Kiyoko, Tanaka, and Yachi shied away to sit in the bleachers to tell them about the engagement while Kei was able to catch up with everyone he knew on the court.

“So basically when Kei and I were little, there was this park by the river that we’d like to go to after school everyday. It was on the edge of our neighborhood so it wasn’t super far away or anything. It was when the leaves began to fall he wanted to go on a walk out there. We hadn’t been in years. He led me to this little candle-lit picnic- plastic candles though, believe it or not he was scared shitless of accidentally burning anything. Apparently him and Yamaguchi set it up a little while earlier…”

“Baby what’s all of this?”

“Can I not celebrate how much I love you from time to time?” Heat rose to your face before you waved him away.

“I guess so.”

“Good because I have all of your favorites right here, angel. Plus we’ve been so busy with work and school I haven’t had the proper chance to treat you.”

You sat beside Kei as he began to sort through the basket. He pulled out a bottle of wine and two cups. He poured you both a glass and the two of you slowly sipped on it as the sun began to dip behind the river.

“I know I say this a lot, but I’m forever grateful that I get to be by your side everyday.” Kei used his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes straight ahead.

“I know, baby. I love living life with you.”

“I think this’ll be super romantic if we slow danced right now.” Kei stood to his feet, extending his right hand out to you. You took it as he pulled you to his chest. Your hands reached around his neck and your noses brushed each other. He turns his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips before grinning down at you.

“You make me the happiest man alive. I’m so grateful that my best friend is the love of my life.” You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as you smile. “Sorry it took me so long to come around. We could’ve had each other for much longer than this.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind over it.”

“I have no worries when I’m with you.”

Your hands gently grip around his shirt collar to pull him in for another kiss. Long and sweet. Your lips move along in perfect harmony as he holds you by your waist. He pulls away, barely an inch from your face.

“L/N F/N, I-“

“Oh my- Kei are you okay?” You jolted at your name, he hadn’t said it in so long. He places a large hand over your mouth.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to raise a family with you, not a dog family with Hiro, but have actual kiddos. I want to wake up next to you every morning of my life. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I want to be the reason you smile and be your comfort whenever you fall. I know that we’re both seniors in college right now, but next year I have a job lined up as Curator and the Sendai Museum. I haven’t told you yet, but I know I can support us. You’re about to get your dream job as well.” His hands travel down to yours before taking a step back.

Kei lowers himself onto one knee before fumbling with his front pocket to pull out a small ring box.

“Will you marry me? I promise to treasure you for the rest of our lives.”

Tears began to swell in your eyes as you began to nod quickly. You quickly rushed over to him hugging his neck smothering his face in kisses (and tears).

“Yes, Kei!”

You finally wipe away your blurry vision to be greeted by him smiling, he was on the brink of tears himself. He offered the warmest, most compassionate smile you’ve ever seen from him in all the years you’ve known him. Your heart glowed because you knew this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see him like this. Your life was just now beginning. Kei quietly slipped the ring onto your finger before rushing up to grab your face with his hands. He gave you baby pecks on your lips. Each time he pulled away to look at you, his smile widened as if he couldn’t believe that you were there in front of him.

“Thank you, my love”

“I’ve gotta say, if I’m being honest, I didn’t really think Tsukishima had a romantic bone in his body.” Tanaka chuckled to himself. Kiyoko pushed his shoulder gently.

“Tsukishima has always had a soft spot for Y/N, he’d run to the ends of the Earth for her, Ryu.”

“So like me?”

The conversation between your friends blurred into background noise as you caught Kei’s eyes. He was with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Daichi. They were grabbing on his shoulder and laughing about something.

Kei gave you a warm smile and held his thumbs up. You returned the gesture. He mouthed a very small “I love you” before returning back to his conversation. His smile continued to glow across the room. You smiled looking down at the ring that adorned your finger.

A forever.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu college au #haikyuu angst #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #mutual pining

57 notes · View notes

hideawayintheimaginationworld · 4 years

Note

Alec is out late with friends on a weekend and he gets a text from Fetch to come home because Lefty is worried about him but won't text him himself because he doesn't want to come off as too controlling.

Tym 2 come hom

Alec didn’t initially understand the wording, he knew it was Fetch based on the strange texting language, he also didn’t understand why Fetch had texted him in particular, yes Fetch was synced to everyone's phone and would text them if necessary but he mainly communicated with Greg and Lefty.

His phone then received another message:

U need 2 come hom

Was Fetch asking him to come home?

He did see the time on his phone screen said 10:45 pm, he had been given permission by Lefty to go to the movies with some boys from school, the movie ended a while ago and Alec had decided to grab something to eat, he was just sitting inside the fast food place after eating just using the WiFi to watch videos on his phone.

Now Fetch was texting him.

Fetch had only texted him three times before, once because Fetch couldn’t get in touch with Greg, unaware Greg's phone battery died earlier.

RU on UR way now Alec?

Alec stood up, he had already decided it was time to go home but he decided to respond to Fetch first:

I'll be home in twenty minutes

Fetch responded:

C U soon

Alec checked the time before he went inside the house, he knew Lefty wasn’t particularly about curfews but Lefty did say before for everyone, which included himself, Ralpho, Sarah, Millie, Pete, Oscar, Stanley, Matt and everyone else, that it was a good idea to not be out of the property after midnight. The reason being that there were threats Lefty hadn’t captured yet, like Funtime Freddy, Alec hadn’t seen him aside from pictures but Lefty warned him enough that Funtime Freddy could potentially be stalking Millie and might be coming to watch the house after midnight for an opportunity to grab someone.

Creatures like Plushtrap, Eleanor, and Foxy were also problematic, and the reasons why the doors were impossible to break complete with multiple locks that would give enough time for Lefty to get a spell ready to repel them.

Nothing bad had happened so far, Lefty did say he was certain Eleanor showed up a few nights ago because Fetch kept barking at the window and Lefty saw a tall figure running down the street, obviously spooked by Fetch barking.

Alec pushed the door open, then closed it behind him, he immediately saw in the living room, Lefty was sitting on the sofa, and Fetch was next to him, he appeared to be asleep.

Lefty looked over at him, “Oh you're home...”

“Yes, I live here.”

“I just didn’t know when you would be coming home, that's all,” Lefty answered.

“Fetch texted me to come home,” Alec told him.

“I didn’t notice that he did,” Lefty looked at the dog who was at his side, Fetch slowly opened one of his eyes and looked at Alec.

Alec's phone buzzed, he figured Fetch had chimed in with something and looked at what he said:

Lefty was worried abt U

Alec nodded, Fetch then added on:

He won’t admit

Lefty don’t wna ctrl U

Alec interpreted that as Lefty wanting to let him have freedoms but not wanting him to get hurt by those freedoms.

He noticed from the very first time he met him that even with him unaware who he was, he saw Lefty was trying to protect Helpy from a potential threat. Then when Alec said who he was, Lefty was always looking out for him, at the time Alec was a two-foot Lonely Freddy and could disappear into the vents, Alec even got trapped in a pipe once after he fell into it and it wasn’t fun, Lefty did pull him out when he found him. Lefty was not just looking out for him, but protecting him like how a parent would.

Alec did realise after he was put back into his body that the family life he thought he wanted for several months wasn’t the one he needed.

That was months ago, and Hazel had followed him to this new life with Lefty and the others.

Lefty was still sort of new to being a parent, technically he had eight kids to watch out for, him and his sister included.

“You know if you want me to come home, just text me,” Alec said to Lefty, he didn't want Lefty to worry about him.

“Well, you know what I said... don’t be outside after midnight.”

The whole midnight thing wasn’t as much of a curfew as it was a safety rule, Alec was fine to follow any rules Lefty had because they weren’t unreasonable, Lefty expected him to do homework and chores but he was okay when Alec wanted to take a break, play games and go out for the afternoon, Lefty had never fought with him or scolded him.

“I wouldn’t,” Alec answered, “Because I know you don’t me to get hurt.”

“I don’t want anyone in this house hurt,” Lefty seemed to correct him.

“Not even Matt?”

Alec had spoken the name of an adult man they recently met, Alec knew Lefty was having arguments with Matt regularly but they seem to be less now.

“Me and Matt are establishing a better relationship,” Lefty explained, “He's starting to break a lot of bad habits, I think Spring could also to be thanked for that, I mean yes what happened wasn’t nice but it was a wake-up call, and in a way... everyone here has had some sort of wake up call.”

Alec felt like he had two wake-up calls:

When he realised Hazel wasn’t a manipulative brat, and when he realised he was a lot happier when Lefty was filling the parent role better than his own parents.

“Regardless no one in my opinion deserves to be attacked by a rogue robot.”

“What about the people created Lonely Freddy?”

“Well... I already showed those people their actions have consequences and Karma's a bitch.”

“Well, you are Karma then.”

Lefty chuckled at that, “I guess I am.”

“So not grounded for being out past eleven?”

Lefty shook his head, “Alec, I don’t really ground anyone, you know that but I'd like you to go to bed now, you need to have at least 9 and half hours of sleep.”

Lefty didn't particularly enforce an exact time for sleep, he did however liked everyone to be asleep by eleven, and he said Hazel and Chuck should have about 10 hours of sleep.

Alec nodded, “Okay, goodnight dad.”

Alec did occasionally call him Dad but not always, Lefty wouldn't force it, Alec never saw how Lefty would smile when he heard that.

“Goodnight Alec...” Lefty responded as Alec disappeared upstairs out of view.

Lefty looked at Fetch, who turned his head to him and gave him the innocent look like he did nothing wrong, he gave that look yesterday when he tracked in mud on the kitchen floor.

Lefty saw Fetch had sent him a message on his phone.

U need 2 jus communicate wn U'D lk him 2be hom

“I guess I need to do that... I mean... he's legally my kid now, heck I even considered him my kid long before, I put in the effort that his real parents never did,” Lefty said, ”I don't want to come off as controlling, however.”

I nvr met Alec's M&D but dey don’t sound gd like Greg's, U btr parent 4 them all

“Ian and Meg aren’t the same as Greg's parents...” Lefty told him, “I don’t like talking to Ian or Meg, but I’ve threatened Greg's father saying if he ever hurts him again then he better start running immediately because I won’t be held back this time by anyone.”

Fetch growled at the mention of Greg's father, something they both hated was Greg's father, he then shook his head and yawned.

Bedtime

“Yes, let's go to bed, Alec's back home now, just go to bed, I'm going to have a quick look, make sure everyone is actually asleep,” Lefty stood up from the sofa and went upstairs, Fetch followed behind him.

Lefty checked on Hazel and Ralpho first, he liked her for some reason so he often jumped on her bed while no one else was looking and fell asleep there, he then checked on Sarah and Millie, who were both asleep in their bed. Delilah also was asleep, with her alarm set for eight AM so she could go to work, Stanley, Matt and Spring were asleep.

The boys all were asleep, Alec obviously would still be conscious but his eyes were closed, the only things Lefty noticed was Pete didn’t take off his hat so it was still on his head and Oscar had his phone in his hands, he obviously fell asleep while texting Issac and Raj.

Lefty then snuck to bed, Fetch had already taken his place on the big dog bed in the corner near the door, Lefty walked pass him, he took off his hat and bow tie then laid down, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

That was until Fetch woke him at eight, asking for breakfast like he always did.

#Ask #I wrote about it but I might make it a short comic because this idea good #I wrote this in about 2 hours #For the record this probably would happen #Lefty trying to be a good parent but he doesn’t want Alec to hate him #five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights #Lonely Freddy #FNAF Alec #Lefty #FNAF Lefty #FNAF Fetch #Writing Drabble

22 notes · View notes

you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

Text

Buzzed - A Negan One-Shot

Summary: After an incident in the Sanctuary, Leigh takes matters into her own hands. What will Negan’s response be?

Warning(s): Language. Angst. Attempted rape. Violence. Death. Slight Panic Attack. Anxiety. Leigh being a badass. Negan caught off guard (no pun intended). Mentions of what could be considered self-harm. Daddy kink, but not really. You’ll see. Protective Negan. Fluff. Sexual Innuendoes. Puns (Sorry Not Sorry!). Happy ending. Not Beta’d. I just finished writing this and had to post it! Sorry for any errors.

Author’s Note(s):

I cut my hair myself, usually every 2 weeks, but no more than 3 weeks. I just can’t have my hair touch my ears; it makes my anxiety 10 times worse, and in a way, I kinda explain the reason behind that in this story. I was cutting my hair tonight, (it’s now 2:30 am, 5/24/2020) and I thought of this story idea and Negan’s reaction to the main character having short hair.

Also, if any of the warnings are triggering for you, please don’t force yourself to read. The last thing I’d want to do is trigger someone into having a panic attack. Feel free to give me any feedback, thoughts, questions, comments and/or concerns you have with the story. I love hearing from y’all!

As always, if you’d like to be added to my taglist, just let me know and I’ll happily add you!!

Word Count: 5,301. (A lot, I know, but I think it’s worth it, and I just couldn’t get everything I wanted across in less words, so enjoy!)

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Simon. Dr. Carson. 3 unnamed Original Male Characters. Sanctuary People.

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Story Time:

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~ Then

They’d caught me off guard, for once.

Normally, I never let anything or anyone catch me off guard. Or at least...I tried not to. Due to having anxiety, I was usually hyper-aware of shit going on. But, today, my anxiety had eased off after the relaxing morning I’d had with my husband. We’d spent the morning, snuggled up in his big king-sized bed, just shooting the shit and goofing off.

He didn’t have to go out on a run today, so there was no need to rush the morning like we normally had to 95% of the time. Eventually, though, the day had to get started. Dwight came knocking on the door, interrupting our relaxation time, saying he needed my husband for something. Being the man my husband is, he grumbled, cussed Dwight out, and then got outta bed while apologizing to me for the interruption and assuring me we’d finish relaxing when he got back later.

After a kiss, and a soft “I love you,” he was gone. Off to do what he did. It was my day off, so I laid in bed for a little longer before I too got up, dressed, and made my rounds. As the top female Savior, something I’d worked my ass off, fought for, and took seriously, I said hi to who I needed to, did what I needed to, and finally, sat down under my favorite tree out by the greenhouses.

I laid my leather jacket on the ground next to me, leaving me in my usually black t-shirt, holey but patched up and well worn blue jeans, and faded brown leather boots. Strapped to each thigh was a holster. In the right one was my signature gun, a .357 Magnum, 6-shot revolver. In the left holster, I kept my handcrafted 6 inch blade that I made back when I was 15, well over half a decade, shit closer to a decade ago, considering I was almost 25.

Bending my knees, and pulling them close in a comfortable position, I propped up the notebook I usually kept in my leather satchel with two backup knives, an extra gun, ammo, and a spare notebook for work along with several pens and pencils. The writing equipment was a rare commodity these days, so I always kept them close to me.

As I was writing a story I’d started a few days prior, I zoned out just a bit, focusing on it. I’d started writing when I was just 12 years old, and kept the habit up, even now, 3 years after the world ended and the dead started walking back in 2020 after the Coronavirus outback after the new year, new decade had started.

I was writing, losing myself in the words I printed on the paper in my chicken scratch. I say chicken scratch ‘cause, well...that’s basically what it was. As a lefty, my handwriting wasn’t necessarily the best, and a doctor’s prescription note was probably more legible. It was a mixture between slanted and curved print and semi-elegant at times cursive.

But, it was my handwriting, and I could read it. My husband sometimes had difficulty reading it, but he’d always put his black-rimmed glasses on, and fuck if they didn’t make him look sexier than he already was. Because of that, I sneakily wrote a little sloppier when I knew he’d have to read something from my notes about the runs I went on.

It was all an excuse to see him with those glasses perched on his nose, giving him that sexy professor look. He thought they made him look ridiculous, but I loved it. Since I was writing and zoned out, I wasn’t nearly as focused on my surroundings. I didn’t think I had to be. The tree was my safe spot when I wasn’t with my husband.

The Sanctuary was a relatively safe place, and that was thanks to the rules that were in place. So, it’d make sense that I wouldn’t focus on my surroundings as much and relax a bit as I wrote. But, boy was I wrong. I just didn’t realize it till it was far too late. Before I realized what was happening, I was being punched in the right side of my face, slinging my head to the side, as my notebook and bag were jerked away from me and my hair was roughly pulled, jerking my head backwards.

I went to grab my gun and my knife, but they’d already been taken from me. My eyes flirted back and forth in front of me, trying to process what was going on. But, everything was blurry and I was dizzy from the hit. I could barely make out three men close to me, far too close to me. They were basically on top of me.

Fuck. One of them actually was. I could feel the weight of him straddling my thighs, keeping me from standing. I couldn’t hear anything as the beating of my heart flooded my ears. I tried to fight back as best as I could, but the other two men grabbed my hands and jerked them away from my body and pinning them to the ground as they shoved my upper body down.

When they jerked my arms away, I felt, more than heard, my left shoulder dislocate. I clenched my jaw. The pain wasn’t anything new. I’d been dealing with a shoulder that dislocates when I fuckin’ sneeze since I was 13 years old. The pain, when it happened, was now at a tolerable level since I was so used to it happening.

I didn’t cry out. I knew not to. Plus, the wasn’t the type of person I was. I knew what was ‘bout to happen. It, like my shoulder, was something I’d had to put with for years growing. It wasn’t anything new either. But, that didn’t mean it was enjoyable. It was anything but. I barely processed my jeans being jerked down my hips and past my knees.

I could just barely hear the men laughing and joking around with each other, talking ‘bout what they were going to do to me and wondering why the fuck I was wearing two pairs of boxers under my jeans. I watched them, as best as I could with my vision being what it was. When the blurriness faded just enough, I could make out their features and recognized them as members of the new group that was brought in last week.

Members I’d brought into the Sanctuary. Into my house. I dropped my head back down to the ground and groaned to myself. I let my body go slack, waiting for the perfect time. When the men realized I wasn’t struggling anymore, they laughed and the two dumbfucks holding my arms down eased up on their grip.

The man on my legs lifted himself up just enough push his own pants down. Their easing up on their grip was their mistake and ultimately what led to their demise. Since they weren’t paying attention to me, thinking I’d just given up, and instead focusing on getting their baby carrot sized dicks outta their pants, I was able to strike back.

I immediately brought both my hands up, fingers curled in to form perfect fists without worry of possibly breaking my thumbs, ignoring the protest of my left shoulder, and cocked both the men on my sides straight in the noses. I internally smiled at the sounds of their noses breaking and their screams of pain.

They stumbled back just a little bit, hands covering their faces as they clutched their noses in an attempt to stop the extensive amount of blood falling. Clearly, I caught the man on top me off guard with my actions and he was shocked for a moment. It was perfect. I bucked him up off me, managed to jerk my pants up as I stood.

All one fluid motion.

Since he was still obviously in shock at me suddenly fighting back, he stumbled, tripping, and falling backwards on the ground. He tried to scurry backwards as fast as as he could. Despite being 5’3”, I was able to stay with him. I slammed my boot down on his stomach, making him howl in pain and wheeze as he struggled to get the air back that i’d just forced outta his lungs.

I kept my foot on his gut, putting most of my weight on it, digging the worn sole into his abdomen. He let out a sad excuse for a grunt as I did. I just smirked. This fucked had no idea who he’d fucked, or tried to fuck with. I leaned down and started pummeling the shit outta his face, keeping him in place with my foot.

Since he couldn’t get fresh air back into his lungs because of the position of my foot, he was too weak to try and fight back. To say I was a little disappointed at not having a challenge, would be like saying the dead weren’t walking around. It was a lie. I was disappointed, and I fueled that disappointment in with the anger as I literally beat him to death.

He kept trying to apologize, tried to plead with me, to not kill him, but I didn’t give a fuck. He was ‘bout to rape me, and I’d had ‘nough of that in my life. I wasn’t putting up with it. I eased up just before I knew he was about to die. Gave him false hope into letting him think his words had affected me. I let him get one last breath in as I completely lifted my foot off his torso.

“Than-” He started to say, but I cut him off as I slammed my boot into his face, effectively crushing his skull.

“Don’t fuckin’ thank me, prick.” I muttered to him as I wiped my boot off on his once clean but now bloody clothes. “You fuckin’ ruined my goddamn favorite fuckin’ pair of boots, asshole.”

Before I turned away from him, I spit on his crushed skull. Since it was destroyed, I didn’t have to worry ‘bout him coming back as a dean’un. I was a little sad that I wouldn’t get to kill him a second time, but he’d gotten what he deserved. Turning to the other two dumbfucks, I repeated my actions, and did to them exactly what I’d just done to their friend.

I knew my husband was going to be pissed that I killed these men, instead of letting him do it, but I’d deal with that. I wasn’t going to let these fuckers back inside the relatively safe concrete walls of the factory that was the Sanctuary. By the time I was down stomping in the skull of the third man, I looked up, as I finished, and noticed that I’d gathered quite an audience.

Including Simon. The right-hand man, third person in charge of the Sanctuary. His, and everyone else’s, eyes were wide, and everyone was silent. I knew I was gonna be in trouble since they’d just seen me stomp the life outta three men, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had shit to do. I gathered up my weapons, my jacket, and bag after shoving my shit into it and stormed inside the Sanctuary, flipping everyone off, not wanting to deal with their gawking.

Not caring ‘bout my bloody appearance, I made my way to the commissary, needing to grab a few things before I went back to my room. I found what I needed: a new pair of jeans identical to the ones i was wearing, a new t-shirt, undergarments, a pair of boots and a special item, an unopened, brand new boxed set of hair clippers.

Once I had what I needed, I stormed up to the room I share with my husband, stripping down to my bra and one pair of boxers when i get there.

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~ Now

“What the fuck was that fuckin’ shit out there, Leigh?!?”

I sigh as I hear my husband storm into our room, the door slamming shut behind him. I look at myself in the mirror as I lay the scissors down on the bathroom counter by the sink and pick up the clippers. Turning them on, I don’t reply to my husband. Not wanting to explain to him what happened at the moment.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I bring the clippers up to my shortened hair. I press the #2 guard to my head and move it backwards from my forehead to the back of my head, sticking to the once familiar hairline I used to see and live by religiously. I watch as the hair falls, joining the rest of my once long, curly locks, on the floor by my feet. I use my fingers to guide my movements, making sure I don’t go too high and completely fuck up my hair.

Once I have the hairline visible, separating what I want to keep and what I want to shave off, I move the guard down below my ear and with practiced ease, I shave the sides and back of head, getting rid of the hair. Keeping an eye on myself, making sure I don’t fuck up my haircut, not that I would since I used to do this every 2-3 weeks, I watch as my husband steps into the bathroom.

I watch as his eyes nearly bulge outta their sockets when he sees me. I watch as the anger vanishes from his face and body, being replaced with worry, sadness, and a hint of curiosity. I watch as his eyes traveling over the reflection of my face in the mirror, taking in my black eye, bruised and split open cheek, covered in blood and even the nasty black eye I’m now sporting.

I watch as he slowly moves his eyes up to meet mine in the mirror.

“What...what are you doing?” He asks softly.

My left eyebrow shoots sky high as I look at him. My husband rarely says a sentence without cussing every other word. And yet...he just asked a simple question without one sentence enhancer thrown in.

“What the fuck’s it look like I’m doing? I’m cutting my hair.” I say. “Decided I needed a new fuckin’ look. Don’t you fuckin’ love it?”

I know I’m being Captain fuckin’ Obvious at the moment, and a bit harsh, but I’m not ready to tell him what happened. That’s for after I get done. Cutting my hair is the only thing keeping me from completely shutting down and giving in to the panic attack that’s trying to take over. I watch as he lets out a deep breath as he slowly steps into the bathroom, padding across the tiled floor to me.

He places his hands on my shoulders and I do my best not to flinch. But he still sees it and quickly lifts his hands off me, holding them up in a surrendering pose. I know he’d never hurt me, and he was the one to save my life after this shit hole of a world started three years ago. But, I can’t help it. The feeling of those fuckers’ hands on me, plus the fact that my shoulder is still dislocated, keeps me from wanting to be touched.

“Can...let me help. Please, sweetheart.” My husband’s soft drawl meets my ears.

“No. I need to do this myself.” I reply, tightening my grip on the clippers.

I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as he swallows deeply and nods. I keep my eyes on his in the mirror and finish cutting my hair. It’s been three years since I’ve cut my hair, but the muscle memory is still there. It’s like riding a bike. My husband watches as I finish shaving the sides of my head down to where there’s just a bit of peach fuzz.

Switching the clippers off, I replace the guard with a #1 and go back over the bottom hairline on the base of my neck. Once I have that done, I take the guard off completely and just put the metal of the clippers to the back of my neck doing my best not to flinch at the burning heat coming off it as it meets my skin.

I take that little strip down so there’s no hair there, running along along the hairline on my neck. I use the blending guard and even out the area, making the hair have a fade. Replacing the blending guard with the #7, I bring it up to the patch of hair on my head, and trim it down. When I finish, my feet are covered with a mountain of what used to be the long, thick, curly hair on my head.

My neck and shoulders are also covered with the little strands of hair that I buzzed off. Setting the clippers on the counter, I run my hands over the buzz cut I now sport and take in a deep, shaky breath. I let my head drop down, pressing my chin to chest and take another shaky breath in after letting out one.

“Baby?” My husband asks softly.

I lift my head and look up at him. My eyes roam over the unzipped black leather jacket he’s wearing over his standard white t-shirt and down to the grey jeans he’s wearing, held up by two leather belts. I let my eyes rest on his feet, no longer hidden by his own pair of black combat boots, but rather a pair of white socks.

Taking in another deep breath, I bring my eyes up to meet his. I can see the worry swimming in his muddy water brown eyes. I shake my head as i start to take my bra off and push my boxers down, stepping outta them as the pool ‘round my ankles.

“I need a shower.” I mumble and step ‘round him to walk to the stunning shower we share.

I grip the knobs tightly as I turn the water on, as hot as it’ll go. I need to feel the pain of the burning water over my skin. If I don’t, I know I’ll give in to that panic attack that’s already on the verge of consuming me. Stepping into the shower, I glance back at my husband over my shoulder.

“You can…” I mumble.

He nods as he understands what I’m trying to say. I look away, for the first time since we met, and eventually became intimate, not wanting to watch him undress. I know that if I were to watch, I’d see those assholes tugging their pants down, and I don’t want that. I don’t want my husband to be mixed in with them.

Standing under the burning hot water, feeling it flow over and pelt my skin, I bring my hands up and tightly grip what’s left of my hair, tugging on it. I feel Negan step into the shower, behind me. I don’t have to look. I know he’s there. I can feel the heat rolling off his skin, along with the worry and helplessness.

He hasn’t seen me like this in three years, and even then, it wasn’t this bad. I blindly reach for the bottle of men’s body wash he and I share and I vigorously scrub my body with it. Trying to get the touch and the blood of those men off me. It takes four harsh washes and rinses before I even begin to feel clean.

Negan just stands behind me, leaning against the back wall of the shower. He’s giving me my space while still letting me know he’s right there if I need him. The bottle slips outta my hands when I go to pour more of the soapy liquid into my palm. I’d leave it there, but Negan gently reaches around me, picking it up.

I hear the bottle open and can tell he’s pouring some into his own hands. I figure he’s just gonna wash his body until I feel his soft and gentle touch on my skin. I flinch and tremble at first, but eventually give into the feeling of him touching me. He takes his time, gently washing me, letting me get clean for the final time.

Letting me know that it’s ok. That it’s over. That’s he’s got me. That he’ll take care of me. Neither of us say a word as he takes the removable showerhead from it’s dock and gently rinses me off after he turns the cold water on, letting the temperature of the water mix until it’s no longer burning, but rather warm and gentle.

He lets the showerhead drop and dangle as he turns the water off and steps out. I keep my eyes closed and feel him wrap a soft towel around me. I open my eyes and bring them to meet his, only to find him staring at my dislocated shoulder. He blinks and his tongue darts out just a little from between his lips.

“Want me to put it back in place, sweetheart?”

I nod slowly.

“Put your right arm ‘round my waist, baby, and I will.”

I follow his soft command and a moment later, I feel his palms against my left shoulder. He’s helped me pop my shoulder back into place enough over the last few years that he knows what he’s doing. I suck in a deep, shaky breath right as he pops it back into place. I bit my lip to hold back the whimper from the pain.

As soon as he’s done, he wraps both his arms ‘round me and just holds me close as I bury my face against his wet chest. We don’t say another word for a solid 10 minutes. He just holds me as we stand in the bathroom, water pooling ‘round our feet. Eventually, he gently scoops me up in his arms and carries me to bed.

Sitting down on it, he just holds me in his lap, not saying anything. I know it’s his way of helping me get outta the panic attack and also letting me know that he’s listening when I’m ready to talk. It takes me a hot minute before I get the words out, and even then they’re just a whisper.

“They...they were trying to rape me.”

I hear him let out a growl and his arms tighten ‘round me, protectively. That’s his number one rule. Rape is not allowed. Followed by the prohibition of abusing women and children. He doesn’t say a word, letting me continue. I tell him everything that happened, as I tremble in his arms. He just holds me close, softly rubbing my back and taking even breaths to help me subconsciously focus on keeping my own breathing even.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, baby.” He finally murmurs after I finish recounting the events. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. They got what they deserved. I just wish I could’ve introduced them to Lucille.”

My eyes flirt over to the barbed-wire baseball bat propped up against the wall by our bedroom door. She’s surprisingly clean. I guess Negan didn’t have to dish out any punishments today. Only I did.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, though, baby.” He whispers in my ear.

I look up at him, confused. “Proud?”

He nods. “Mmhhmm. You shut that shit down, and kept your cool until you were up here. I don’t know how you fuckin’ managed that, but I’m not surprised. I heard what you did, heard how you described it, and fuck, baby. I wish I’d seen you go Rambo on their asses. You’re my badass girl. I’m proud of you.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. Despite the events of the day, and me doing what I did, my husband still manages to make me smile. He slowly brings one hand up, keeping it in my line of sight, and cups my good cheek.

“Will you let me send Carson up here to stitch your cheek up and get you checked out?”

His eyes search mine, waiting for my reply, and hoping I’ll let him. I nod against his palm, and he lets out a deep breath. He reaches over to the nightstand and plucks his radio off it. His thumb pressed against the side button.

“Carson. Get your fuckin’ ass up to my room now, and bring your bag. Fuckin’ now.” He growls into the receiver.

“Yes, sir.” Comes the doctor’s reply not even a moment later.

Negan then pushes the button down again and talks.

“Simon. Bring two plates of food up to my room. Now. And make sure it’s some good shit too.”

Simon replies in the affirmative and Negan sets his radio down. He looks back at me and places his palm back against my good cheek. A gesture that always makes me relax.

“Can I ask why you cut your hair?” He asks softly.

“I refuse to let another man tug me around by hair, guiding me to do his bidding, especially during a situation like earlier. It was a flashback to my dad doing what he did. It’s why I’ve also cut my own hair. It’s the one thing I about my body that I can control. So, I keep it short and no man will ever be able to use my hair against me again.” I say, the truth just spilling out. “Plus, having it touch my ears, always made my anxiety ten times worse.”

He knows what my dad did, and he’s known that tugging on my hair was a hard limit for me. So, he never did it, which is why I let my hair grow out. I felt safe around him. I still do. But, having long hair is just a liability, and I refuse to be put in that situation again. He nods in understanding.

“I’m gonna miss your curls, though.” He says. “And waking up with a mouthful of your hair in my mouth.”

I can’t help but giggle at that. It’s true. Most mornings, he’d wake up, sputtering to spit out the strands of my hair that ended up in his mouth as we slept next to each other.

“I left enough on top so you can still play with my hair, babe. And, there’s still enough to run your fingers through it.” I assure him.

“Can I?”

I nod and a moment later, I feel his fingers on his other hand stroke through my wet hair, lightly massaging my scalp as he does. I let out a soft moan at the feeling and lean into his touch on my cheek, closing my eyes. He chuckles as he plays with my hair.

“If that’s your reaction to me doing that every single fuckin’ time, I could get used to it. And I’ll just have to get used to having an even stiffer hard on from the soft moans.” He smirks as he looks at me.

I blush and open my eyes looking up at him. “You're my husband. I think I can manage helping you out with the baseball bat you have in your pants.”

He laughs softly. “Yea?”

I grin. “Mmhhmm. You’re fond of Lucille. I’m quite fond of your own bat.”

He grins, showing off his dimples. “I’m fuckin’ fond of you, baby. Have been since we first met in the woods. Why else do you think I got rid of the wives years ago?”

I try not to grin as I shrug. “It was the only way you were getting in my pants and scoring a homerun.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Not the only reason, baby. It was because I love you, Leigh.”

I grin from ear to ear and turn my head to place a soft kiss to his palm. “I love you too, Negan.”

Before he can say anything else, there’s a timid knock on the door.

“Come the fuck in!” Negan calls out, holding me close.

Dr. Carson comes in. He’s no longer as nervous as he used to be when I first showed up. But he’s still a little nervous around the man. I’ve gotten Negan to ease up on the fear of himself he’s instilled in people, and gotten him to be nicer in the way he treats folks. He’s not the bat-wielding lunatic he was when we first met.

He’s the man I always knew he was.

A soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.

My soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.

After Carson checks me out, determines nothing’s broken, assures me that everything is good, and stitches my cheek up, he leaves. Negan helps me get dressed in a pair of his boxers under my new jeans and one of his shirts before he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. Simon comes in shortly after I finish getting dressed, holding a tray of food for Negan and I.

His eyes widen as he looks at me, taking in my new appearance.

“What, Si? Never seen a girl with short hair before?” I ask, teasing.

He shakes his head. “I have. I just wasn’t expecting you to have cut your own. It looks good on you, fitting.”

I smile. “Thanks, Si.”

Leaning up, I kiss his cheek and then kick him out before Negan can Lucille him for staring at me. My husband knows Simon’s like a dad to me, the dad I never had, and that there’s nothing there. He just gets jealous and protective over me, not liking other men to stare. And, for once, I’m thankful, given the events of today.

As we eat, Negan and I stay on the bed, me snuggled up to his side. When we’re finished though, I look up at him.

“I have to tell you something else.” I say.

His eyebrow raises and he looks at me, grining. “What’s that? You planning on buzzing anything else?”

I laugh and playfully slap his bare chest. “No, asshole.”

He pretends to be hurt and rubs his chest, grinning. “Damn, girl. That hurt.”

I laugh and kiss his chest where I smacked him. “Feel better, Daddy?”

He grins that dimpled grin again and nods. “Mmhhmm. Now, what else you gotta tell me, babygirl?”

I smirk. “Well, Daddy…you see...”

He growls low in his throat. “Don’t tease me, little girl.”

I giggle. “I’m not, Daddy.”

I bring my hand down to rub my tummy.

“You full from eating?” He asks, covering my hand on my tummy, rubbing what he thinks is a food baby.

“Nope. But, it’s nice to see you already rubbing my tummy. I can happily get used to this over the next 7 months.”

“7 months?” His brow creases in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen. “You...you’re...we’re…?”

I giggle and nod as I lean up to kiss him softly.

“Yes, honey. I’m pregnant.” I say. “I’m 2 months along, and found out a few days ago. I was working on a story earlier, and that was gonna be how I told you, but shit happened, so I figured I’d just tell you.”

He lets out a high pitched squeal that I never would’ve expected from him, and pulls me right back into his arms and his lap. His beard tickles my neck as he grins against it, placing a soft kiss there. I giggle and wrap my arms ‘round him. Like I said, he’s a soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.

My soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather and I’m his buzzed haired girl.

37 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

[yourheaventonight]

What color is your couch? They’re gray.

How do you normally wear your hair? It’s always up in a messy bun.

Alcohol = the ultimate truth serum. Yes or no? Some people tend to get too talkative and comfortable and say things they probably wouldn’t normally.

Are you a righty or a lefty? I’m a righty.

Do you own a pair of handcuffs? No.

Do flying bugs creep you out? Ew, yes. ALL bugs creep me out, but flying definitely doesn’t help cause they can fly right at me. lsflsfjldkfj

Can a girl love sex without being a whore? ...Yes. Loving sex doesn’t make you a whore. I think a lot of people love sex. I’m not going to judge people’s sex lives. Also, I just don’t use those type of terms.

Would you ever be in a long-distance relationship? I don’t know.

Do lemons sound appealing to you at the moment? I like lemon flavored desserts, but I don’t eat actual lemons.

What size bed do you have? A full.

When was the last time you brushed your teeth? Yesterday. Before you judge, it’s only 6:36AM so I haven’t done so yet today.

Can you sleep in total darkness? Nooo. I have to sleep with my TV on for some light and sound.

What piercings do you have? Just my earlobes.

Any tattoos? Nope.

Is your glass half empty or half full? My glass is broken.

Are frogs cute or gross? The slimy thing isn’t so cute.

Do you ever wish you were born in a different century? No.

Which country's culture interests you most? Things from all different kinds of cultures interest me. <<<

What kind of guys/girls do you go for? None for the past few years... I forget what it feels like to be crushing or have an interest in someone in that way. It feels like forever ago since I’ve last felt that.

Do you regret something you have no real control over? Yes.

Do you enjoy writing? I used to.

What do you have as your screen saver? My screen just goes black after like 15 minutes.

Do you have a webcam? It’s built into my MacBook. I’ve never used it, though.

Do you still have your tonsils? Yes.

Aren't beetles fucking grody? Ugh, what’s with the bug questions in the past two surveys I’ve done. ALL BUGS ARE GROSS AND CREEPY.

How do you feel about Oprah? I’ve never been obsessed like a lot of people seemed/seem to be.

^ What the fuck kind of name is Oprah anyway? It reminds me of okra. Don’t gotta attack her name.

Would you ever pierce your tongue twice? Like, one right next to the other? I wouldn’t pierce it at all.

Do you like bonfires? Yes. I’ve always wanted to have one on the beach.

What makes your skin crawl? BUGS.

What's your favorite flower? I don’t really have one.

Look up Community Property by Steel Panther. Listen to the whole song. No.

Share your thoughts here. --

Have you ever dyed your hair an unnatural color? I’ve been dyeing it red the past few years.

What's for dinner? I’m not sure, yet.

Have you ever had someone draw a picture of you before? I’ve had those caricature drawings done before.

What confuses you most? Life.

Do you like monkeys? Sure.

Does anything on your body hurt at the moment? Of course.

Have you ever been called a bad influence? Not that I know of.

What book are you reading right now? Cold Highway by Mary Stone.

Any bands you would like to recommend to me? Hmm.

What makes you laugh? My doggo.

What time is it? 6:47AM.

Doesn't intentionally bad grammar annoy you? Yes.

What type of person can you not stand? Arrogant, cocky, close-minded, very opinionated and judgmental people.

Care to share what song is stuck in your head? There isn’t one, currently.

What languages can you speak? Just English fluently, but I know some Spanish.

Pirates are better than ninjas. Fact or fiction? I’m gonna go with pirates cause it reminds of Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland, one of my favorite rides.

There is always a bit of truth behind every 'j/k', yes? Not always, but sometimes I do think that. Especially if it’s said more than once.

What do you get complimented on most often? Nothing.

What's the weirdest compliment you've ever received? Someone apparently thought I had polio because I’m in a wheelchair and told me that I looked pretty for someone with polio. Uh...

Who/what was the last person/thing to make you blush? I don’t recall.

What kind of muffins do you like? Banana (without the nut), blueberry, cinnamon streusel, lemon poppyseed, chocolate chip, birthday cake. Dang, I want a muffin now.

Do you like warm or cold weather more? Cold, hands down.

Don't you hate it when sites go under maintenance and you cant get access? If it’s something I need access to at that moment, like typically that tends to happen with websites I pay my bills on.

What form(s) of art do you enjoy most? Literature, film, music.

Piercings are sexy. Truth or lie? I’m not into them.

Have you ever worn a French maid costume? No.

Have you ever had couscous? I don’t know what that is.

Do you like listening to yourself talk? Ew, no.

When was the last time you were congested? Hm. It’s been awhile.

Do you wear eyeliner? When I actually wear makeup, yes, but I haven’t worn any makeup in like 4 years.

Do you show everyone your tongue when something turns it another color? No, I don’t feel the need to do that.

Who is the greatest writer alive, in your opinion? There’s countless great writers. How about the greatest painter? There’s countless great painters. I may not have a favorite myself, but I can acknowledge that there’s a lot of beautiful art pieces out there.

The greatest musician? There’s countless great musicians.

The greatest poet? There’s countless great poets. I don’t read poetry, but again I can acknowledge there’s a lot of great poets out there.

Have any good scar stories you want to share? I don’t consider any of them “good.”

Are you pierced anywhere below the waist? No, I’m not.

Facebook games: Fun or brain-frying? I don’t play any.

Do you dance well? Not at all.

Are you into anyone at the moment? No.

Do you touch yourself at night? No.

What body parts can you 'crack'? My knuckles, wrists, arms, neck.

What color do you wear most often? Black.

What about the opposite sex drives you crazy? (The good kinda crazy.) It’s been so long since I’ve been interested in someone or felt that way.

What candle/incense flavors do you enjoy most? (Yes I said flavors. :P) Autumnal scents from Bath & Body Works and patchouli.

Do you complain a lot? In surveys and on Twitter, but I keep to myself a lot in person. I could complain a lot to those around me if I wanted to, but I don’t because I don’t want to be a burden, annoying, or bring them down. I’ve known people who constantly complained and it gets to be a lot real quick. It’s draining. So, I just suffer in silence, ha.

What do you do when you're mad? Shutdown and cry.

Have you ever thought you could 'save' someone? No.

Do you have any 'special' talents? *Wiggles eyebrows* Nope.

Yankee makes the best candles. Yes or no? Kinda overpriced.

What do you do when you can't sleep? I have a nightly routine that consists of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR for that reason.

Have you ever liked someone you barely knew? Little crushes, yeah.

When was the last time you felt like a creeper? I don’t feel like a creeper.

Who seems to have taken up permanent residence in your thoughts? Not a who, but certain things.

Black & Milds: yay or nay? I don’t smoke.

Is smoking a turn-on for you? No.

Do you get excited or scared when you see a thunderstorm brewing? I love ‘em. We don’t get them often here, though.

Speaking of brew, when's the last time you had a beer? Almost 10 years ago. If I’m talkin’ brew I’m talking coffee.

What sub-genre of metal do you enjoy most? I don’t listen to metal.

Do you need to shave? No.

How do you feel about Obama? This question has come up in a lot of the surveys I’ve done lately.

Do you own any bandanas? Nope.

What's your favorite gangster movie? I don’t watch any.

Who/what makes your heart race? Anxiety.

How do you think I should end this survey? You just did.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

1 note · View note

wild-at-mind · 4 years

Text

Tw religious homophobia

I love my mum but yesterday I think I realised I was right to be cautious about sexuality and gender stuff. She attends an accepting of LGBT people Evangelical church (this was explicitly clear on the 2 times I visited which is the way it should be in Evangelical churches imo- you must understand we can't ever assume!). My mum's boss, who is an independent financial adviser who employs just my mum and currently one vacant position, attends the Evangelical church I grew up in. My mum said she thought it was odd that her boss is 'anti-gay' (softening term for homophobic), when she is also divorced, because Evangelicals have been very anti divorce in the past. They only changed because their congregations would be half empty if they condemned divorce so strongly. I said no it makes perfect sense because like are changing with the times while pretending they are not which is the wont of evangelical churches. (full credit to Tor at speakingwhentheworldsleeps for teaching me this observation.) Among other things it means the church never has to face up to its past because they have always been this way, so wonderfully convenient isn't it?

My mum talks about her boss's homophobia as if it's ok because in time she will not be homophobic when the Evangelical church finally evolves to accept gay people. She did not seem to think of any downsides for the people who interact with boss in her day to day life. I said 'hmmm well I guess boss doesn't hire many people. Let's hope [boss's 2 daughters] are not gay'. It wasn't the best rejoinder but I could tell it made my mum realise for a sec: oh yeah homophobic beliefs actually have real world consequences and are not just private things!! Then she said 'or if [daughter1] or [daughter2] are gay hopefully they will tell boss after they leave home.' WTF. I'm stunned. Don't know where to start because how awful? Even if neither daughter is gay or bi that is so toxic. My mum appears to have no idea how damaging this is.

My mum revealed she thinks there are about 3% gay people in the population. .........this may explain why she talks this way, I think she thinks she has never met a gay person and never will. I tried to introduce the idea of a wider LGBT community, of bi and trans people neither of which are loved by Evangelical Christians, a much larger percentage of the world. I don't think she believes me and I truly think she thinks very, very few people have 'same sex attraction' (this phrase used in layman's ciscentric terms not as in the popular gender critical dogwhistle). I'm amazed. When I was at school the figure I heard for gay people was 10%. That was like 15 years ago. Obviously any figure will be a huge guess and definitely under the real figure and we don't know if gay means 'same gender attracted' or 'only attracted to the same gender' and even a survey just counting bisexuals will miss out people who are attracted to the same gender but in deep denial about it currently, or to such a small extent they consider it uncountable....point is her views are far more outdated than I could have ever guessed.

I hope anyone reading this understands that this isn't something I feel I can quickly talk her round on. I will try again some time when I'm not taken by surprise. I know her background on these things but she reads a lot of lefty online content now as well as a left leaning newspaper, I had hoped she had absorbed more. I'm sure this all feels very trite to people who have been kicked out or disowned. You're right, it is. And perhaps I should have made a far bigger fuss about her words and hoped she didn't guess why I cared so much. I think she has been left with the idea that maybe her boss's homophobia has consequences, but perhaps I should have been less calm.

Today I feel terrible, depressed and sad. Putting myself back into compartments. I'm lucky I can hide. I love my mum and I'm so sad about this. I knew I was right to not tell anyone in my family, the more people know the worse. I just want to mind my own business and bury my head in the sand and keep spending nice times with my mum. I know that makes me a hypocrite. (But also, I don't WANT her to think of me being damaged by the homophobia in our church when I was growing up. It feels cruel to do that to her. And I don't think she would understand how it could harm someone who is 'only' bisexual, because I could and did date 'straight').

#tw homophobia #family #depression daze #i'm so tired

8 notes · View notes

senttotheshadowrealm · 4 years

Note

How about Flynn Rider for the headcanon thing? You said something about that movie :p

Oooohh yes! I looove Tangled and its TV spin off! Both great! And Flynn/Eugene is my favorite so he’ll be easy to talk about! I suppose a mild spoiler warning for those who havent seen the movie but...it’s been out for like 10 years now so....

1. What they smell like:

Depending on when you’re near him: God awful or fresher than a blooming flower garden. As a thief on the run, it’s tough to find a good place to bathe, and opportunities are infrequent. If you happen upon Flynn Rider just after a run from the guards and a day full of stressful sneaking around, you got yourself a B.O. covered, dirt smeared, Flynn. But he hates being smelly just as much as you do, so he’s never smelly for long. Of course then he just smells like lake water and salts. Once he’s in the castle with Rapunzel though, Eugene smells like a lotion factory at all times, sometimes overwhelmingly so.

2. How they sleep (position, schedule, etc):

Regardless of the point in his life, Flynn/Eugene is a night owl that sleeps till noon. He just finds it a whole lot harder to get up when he is introduced to an actual bed vs. a rock in some cave. Either way it’s gonna take a pressing job or a nudging Rapunzel to eventually reluctantly get him moving. As for position, he starts off textbook: on his side, hands together between his cheek and the pillow. By morning, he looks like a pretzel. His arms over his head, bent any which way, one foot hanging over him, the other hanging off the bed, drool on his pillow. Chances of him having fallen out of bed at some point are high, although he’d never admit it.

3.Music they enjoy:

He’s very secretive about what music he likes. He puts on a front that he doesn’t like music or dancing, but deep down he does enjoy it. He settles for anything with a solid beat, or something calm, or whatever Rapunzel’s into at the time. But secretly he reaaalllly enjoys folk.

4. How much time they spend getting ready in the morning:

How long do you have? Because he could take a couple hours, especially when he moves into the castle. Once you actually manage to get him out of bed, he must shower and apply his skin care routine perfectly. Then he’ll have to shave, apply his cologne, pluck his eyebrows, comb his hair, probably get a massage, and get the perfect outfit on. Rapunzel could probably brush her 70ft of hair before Eugene is ready.

5.Their favorite thing to collect:

Does treasure count? But in all actuality, even as a thief, Eugene didn’t really “collect” treasure. He gave that to people he owed or had previously screwed over. Even when he was very much Flynn Rider, he was surprisingly sentimental. He would collect trinkets, odd things that didn’t hold much value aside from a personal story. One of his prized possessions is a comb with his name inscribed on it. He kept it because it means something to him, it was the first thing he ever stole. He has a lot of random items like that.

6.Left or right handed:

He’s a lefty!

7.Religion (if any):

He is agnostic. He tends to believe only what he can see with his own two eyes. He is not convinced that there is any higher power, and he doesn’t particularly care if there is or not.

8. Favorite sport:

He’s not big sport person, too dirty. But he does enjoy the less physical ones like archery and equestrianism.

9. Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc):

You wouldn’t know it at first glance, but Eugene is actually quite the history buff. He has traveled a lot in his life, although not for the best of reasons, and has learned many of the global cultures as a result. So when he travels, he loves to visit historical sites or any other location with a lot of history to it. Now that he doesn’t have to worry about ripping people off all the time, he likes actually getting to know the places he’s been to on a more personal level.

10. Favorite weather:

He is a fan of the sun and heat. He absolutely HATES snow and all things cold or icy. If he never saw another snowflake again, it would be too soon.

11. A weird/obscure fear they have:

Eugene is absolutely terrified of being a burden. When he was a thief, he was able to exist on his own. He knew the wilderness like the back of his hand, was able to live off the land and be his own man. But now, with that life behind him, he finds that he’s not very good at much of anything. He struggles with authority, and all the skills he used to rely on are now essentially worthless. He hates the thought of being someone that has to be carried or as someone that has nothing to offer which leads him to sometimes be brash and impulsive. Only to feel even worse when he fails.

12. The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail:

Never challenge him to a game of roulette. Luck seems to always be on his side~

#This was soooooooo fun!!!#Sorry for how long it is tho #got a little carried away #Tangled #eugene fitzherbert #flynn rider #RayWrites #Headcanons

11 notes · View notes

mattygraygubler · 5 years

Text

our campus: chapter 5 (tom holland fic)

summary: frat!tom and reader go to the same college and y/n is tasked with being his tutor, they don’t really get along at first (because i love reader and tom hating each other trope)

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of sex, making out

word count: 3.3k

a/n: the end to this was tough

for a list of characters click here

to be added to the tag list send me an ask !

masterlist

✰✰✰✰✰

“Y/N, you may wanna slow down...” Isabelle said as you downed your third shot.

“C’mon it’s delt… I need something to help face my fear.”

“Y/N we really don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Emily said. You shook your head.

“Nope. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll finally get frat bingo.” Isabelle laughed and you all grabbed your various phones and keys and headed downstairs to grab the uber.

Black outs, and theme parties in general, people tended to go a little nuts for. Everyone brought their best. Like dchi’s toga party a few weeks ago? The image of Kyle wearing a bed sheet is burned into your mind forever.

Isabelle, never one to wear a dress, was wearing a black lace bodysuit (you insisted it was lingerie but she ignored you) with a pair of black flare jeans over it. For Ally, every day was a blackout party, so she wore one of her many black dresses, this one a velvet flare. Emily couldn’t wear all black, it wasn’t in her nature, so she wore an adorable black babydoll dress with little blue flowers all over it.

And you? You pulled out all the stops. Your dress was simple, a black mini dress from urban outfitters, but you spent years looking for the perfect LBD and this was it. It hugged your body in all the right places, you didn’t wear it too often, but when you did you felt like a 10.

You all piled in the uber and were on your way to the house, which wasn’t a far walk from campus, but you were already running late. It was already past 11:30, the party started at 11. It was typical for your friend group to make a fashionably late entrance.

When you got there it was almost 11:45. You made your way to the back of the house where two brothers stood at the back door, one with a clipboard in his hands, the other rolling a joint.

“Evening, ladies,” one of them said. Emily smiled, introduced herself and you guys, and they were soon letting you in.

You walked inside and noticed the party was already in high gear. It wasn’t packed, thanks to the list, but there were a lot of people hanging around, drinking, some playing beer pong, some dancing, others making out on the couch.

Immediately Harrison noticed Emily and came up to give her a kiss on the cheek. He greeted you all very friendly, kissing the backs of your hands.

This kid was not like Tom at all.

Speaking of… You didn’t want to admit it but you noticed him almost immediately. There were a lot of guys looking at your group, probably because you weren’t regulars to delt parties, but one boy in particular couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

You felt his stare on your body, and you finally looked to make eye contact with him. He was at the beer pong table, but he stopped paying attention to the game.

You couldn’t help it, but you bit your lip. He looked… well, hot. Incredibly hot, even though he was just wearing ripped black jeans and a black tee shirt.

“Harrison!” You said, turning your attention away from Tom. “I need a shot of tequila and a rum and orange soda.” Harrison laughed.

“A girl that knows what she wants, I like it. Follow me ladies.” The four of you followed him to the kitchen where a makeshift bar was set up. You groaned internally when you realized who one of the boys was behind it.

“Y/N!” Dan said with a smile. “You’re the last person I expected to see here.”

“Well, everyone changes, Danny. Could I have-” “Lemme guess. A shot of tequila and a vodka orange soda?”

“Rum and orange soda, but very close.” Danny laughed as he poured you the drinks. Isabelle and Ally both had beers in their hands and were behind you, talking to each other while Emily and Harrison appeared to be in their own little world.

“I’m Noah,” the kid next to Danny said. He was a typical frat boy, but you were surprised. So far every delt boy you’ve seen was… very attractive.

“Y/N,” you heard a voice behind you. Max put his hand on the small of your back.

“Hi!” You greeted happily.

“I’m glad you came. Wanna dance?” he asked. You nodded, downed the shot of tequila and headed for the dance floor, not before you saw Dan hand Max a five dollar bill.

Max held your hand as you led him towards the room where people were dancing. It was much louder in here. Immediately you made your way close to the DJ, which was really a delt boy with a baseball cap and soundcloud. Max put his hands on your waist and you started to dance back and forth.

You sipped your drink, realizing you were five drinks in, and were starting to feel great. The room was spinning, in a good way, the music was so loud you could feel it in your chest.

“If I was straight, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you,” Max said into your ear and you laughed. “Besides, one of my brothers already called dibs.”

The smile left your face immediately. Did Tom call dibs on you?! Danny?! You looked at Max’s face and he could tell you were confused.

“Noah. You met him at the bar earlier.” You grinned. Nothing to worry about.

After what felt like an hour of dancing, you and Max were both sweating and decided to go back to the rest of the party. On your way out of the dance floor, Max holding your hand again, you spied Tom on the end of the circle, a girl sucking on his neck. He looked like he was enjoying it, until he saw you. You looked away as soon as you made eye contact and let Max drag you back to the rest of the party.

Tom could let anyone he wanted suck on his neck. Why should that bother you?

You quickly let that thought leave your mind when you saw Noah and another boy waiting at the pong table.

“Pong?” Max asked. You grinned.

“Hope you can keep up, Parum.” You said. Noah was playing with a boy named Cal, who looked like a nerd with glasses and a band teeshirt, but was 100% Isabelle’s type. Boys that were totally below her league made her go crazy.

You and Max were an amazing pong team. He was a lefty and you were a righty so you had the sides of the table you preferred, and were totally kicking ass. Once Noah and Cal started to lose, they totally just collapsed.

You sank the final cup and Max quickly wrapped his hands around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed but yelled for him to put you down before you vomited.

“Alright rematch.” Noah said immediately. This kid was almost as competitive as you.

“Seriously? You’re already ready to get your ass kicked again?” You asked.

“Feisty, I like it.” Noah said and took a step closer to you. You stepped closer to him too.

“Shot gun contest.” He said.

“You’re on.” You said. He nodded, a cocky grin on his face. It’s been a while since you shotgunned, but what’s the worst thing that could happen?

A crowd had gathered, more of their brothers, who obviously knew Noah had dibs on you, Ally and Isabelle, who had befriended a few boys, and Emily, who was leaning on Harrison, giggling and already drunk out of her mind.

Cal handed you and Noah each a beer.

“Care to make this interesting, Y/N?” Noah asked.

“How much were you thinking?” You replied.

“Not how much. I win, you have to kiss me.” All the frat brothers said ‘ooooo’, but you just laughed.

“And if I win?” You asked.

“I have to kiss you.” He said and you laughed.

“No way.”

“Fine. $20 bucks if I lose, if I win, you have to kiss me.” You groaned, delt boys had formed a circle around you and were edging you on.

“Deal.” You said and shook his hand. He pulled your hand, bringing your body towards him and kissed your cheek.

“Just a taste of what’s to come.” He said with a wink.

You got passed a pair of keys and punctured a whole in the can.

“Em, would you do the honors?” You asked. Emily stepped into the circle, pulling the neckscarf off her neck and waving it like at a racetrack.

“THREE… TWO… ONE… GO!” You quickly brought the bottle up to your lips, popping the cap and tilting your head back as you guzzled the beer.

In just a few seconds, Noah crushed his empty can and dropped it to the floor, beating you by barely ONE SECOND.

Everyone was cheering, and Noah looked at you.

“Sorry, babe,” he said with a grin. You smiled, walked up to him, and wrapped your arms around his neck. Immediately his strong arms were around your waist, pulling your body onto his, and dripping you on your back. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you were making out as he dipped you, your arms still around his neck. The kiss tasted like beer, but his hands were strong.

After a few seconds, you finally became aware of the shouting and whooping from around you. You laughed, hiding your face in Noah’s neck as he stopped dipping you, but didn’t take his arms away from you.

“You wanna head upstairs?” He whispered in your ear. You turned to your friends, who were right on the edge of the circle.

“One sec.” You replied, took two steps to your friends and had a hushed conversation.

“So you’re about to win, N/N,” Isabelle said with a giggle.

“What are you talking about?”

“Frat bingo!” She said with a smile. You rolled your eyes.

“Will you guys be pissed if I stay over?”

“No way!” Emily said.

“Are you staying Em?” You asked. She shook her head, you should’ve expected that much.

“Y/N, please be safe, and call if you need anything.” Ally said. You smiled and turned back to Noah who was waiting in the center of the circle.

“So?” He asked, still smirking.

“So you said something about upstairs?” He grinned and picked you up bridal style. You screamed with a smile and a laugh as he made comments about winning, and not to wait up, on his way to the stairs.

You got to his bedroom, immediately you pushed him down and climbed on his lap, making out. It wasn’t long until you ripped off his shirt, and he was pulling your dress over your head.

He was hot, and a good kisser. Plus, you’d do anything to get Tom and his stupid ripped jeans and tight black tee out of your mind.

You didn’t know how long you were up there, but soon you were unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down. He was grabbing your boobs, leaving you hickeys everywhere he could.

It was a few minutes before you realized what was happening. You looked at Noah’s face, the smile he was wearing all night had disappeared.

“Uhm… I think I may have drank too much…” he said quietly, referring to the fact that he couldn’t get hard, despite you being practically naked on top of him.

“Hey it happens,” you said.

“You know, I could uhm,” he looked down and you realized what he was implying. However, you hadn’t shaved and hated having boys go down on you when you weren’t prepared. It was a weird thing.

“It’s ok, I’ll go,” you said and started to get up. He grabbed your arm, pulling you back down and kissing you.

“Stay,” he said and kissed you again. “Please.”

“Fine,” you said with a grin. “But if you try to tell anyone we had sex, I’ll tell them exactly what happened tonight. I can also make sure no other girl at this school ever goes down on you again.” He laughed, throwing his head back. You realized that you actually really enjoyed his laugh.

“Y/N, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not like-” He faltered and knew exactly what he was going to say: Tom. “I’m not like other guys.” He finished and kissed you again.

You stayed practically naked, your bodies intertwined, kissing and making out until eventually dozing off.

* * *

Your body woke you up at 9, which you were grateful for. Staying past 9am in a frat house is never a good idea.

You slipped on your dress, trying to quietly pull on your shoes without waking Noah.

“Hey,” he said groggily. “Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” “Shhhh,” you said, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. “Last night was fun, but I have homework calling my name.”

“Here,” he said and got up, grabbing one of his tee shirts for you to wear. You pulled it over your head and were grateful it was so large and gave you more coverage. A walk of shame was embarrassing enough, but you hated being seen in skimpy nightwear during the day time.

“Thanks,” You said and found yourself smiling again.

“I don’t normally say this, but would you maybe wanna do this again sometime?”

“My numbers already in your phone, baby,” you said and kissed his cheek. He fell back on his bed.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You said, one foot out the door.

“I think you may be my dream girl.” You just laughed.

“Get some sleep,” you said and started to make your way quietly down the steps so you wouldn’t wake any of Noah’s brothers.

You were almost home free when you reached the living room and saw the last person you wanted to see: Tom. He was sitting up on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked up when you walked into the room and you made eye contact.

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy from just waking up. God, he was so hot.

“Hi,” you replied.

“So you and Noah got along well then.” He managed to choke out. “Nice shirt.”

“Yeah... Anything happen with the redhead?” You said. You bit your lip, regretting showing him that you noticed him at all last night. He gestured around the empty room.

“Does it look like anything happened?”

“Sorry. I better go, I’ll see you tomorrow?” His head was in his hands again and you didn’t hear what he muttered.

You had finally got the door open and were about to be free when you heard him again.

“Y/N?” He asked, his voice breaking a bit. You turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” He broke your eye contact.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” He muttered and you bolted out the door.

Walks of shame were never good, and ubers of shame were not much better. If another uber driver chuckled and said “had a nice night, I see” to you, you would lose it.

Thankfully you made it home and jumped right in the shower, but texted the group first.

♡girly girls♡

You

just got back, gotta shower, hearst cafeteria in 30 mins

Your friends all liked the message and you jumped into the hot water.

* * *

Saturdays were for no makeup, sweatshirts, glasses, and mountains of homework. Your friends had already made themselves more than comfortable in your booth in the cafeteria, surrounded by pancakes, coffees, notebooks, and laptops. Just like every Saturday.

You tried to bite into the pancakes they had gotten for you, but Isabelle pulled the plate away.

“You can have food after you spill the tea.” You groaned. You not-so-secretly hated that expression. You proceeded to tell them what happened with Noah, including his unfortunate… flaccid accident.

“And then he gave me his shirt and he called me his dream girl and asked if he could see me again.” You finished.

“Y/N!” Emily said giddily. “That is absolutely fantastic! Unfortunately no frat bingo though.” You laughed.

“Can I have my pancakes now?” You asked.

“Nope. There’s more.” Isabelle said.

“What? No there’s not.” “Yes, Y/N, there is.” You silently cursed yourself. Isabelle could smell a lie from a mile away. It was her gift.

“Fine. There’s more.” You said and told them about the awkward interaction with Tom in the morning.

“Holy fuck.” Ally said after a beat of silence. “He’s into you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Al,” you said as you stole your plate back from Isabelle and greedily dug in.

“Nope, he is absolutely one hundo percent into you.” Isabelle said.

“There’s no way.”

“Oooo!” Emily said. “I’ll text Harrison!”

“Emily Gold don’t you dare.” You said.

“He’s already texted me, like, ten times today, I need to respond at some point.”

“Fine but I get to craft the message.” You said.

“No way.”

“Fine, let Isabelle do it.” You said. Once again Isabelle was the level headed one your group desperately needed.

When she was done, she handed you Emily’s phone.

You (emily)

last night was fun, id love to see you again too

btw is everything ok with your friend tom? Y/N said he looked really sick this morning

“Fine.” You replied and hit send. It was only a few minutes before the bing came in, alerting you all Harrison had texted back.

Harrison<3

dinner tomorrow?

and he got dumped over winter break, hasnt been the same since

well except for this week, he really seemed to be doing good this week, but something mustve happened last night to set him off

he should get back to our room soon, its sweet of you to ask about him

“Wow, he’s whipped.” You said after reading the message. Emily simply giggled.

“Y/N, you realize what this means right?” Ally asked. You sighed, knowing a ridiculous theory was about to spew from her mouth.

“No, Al, what does this mean?” You said sarcastically.

“He was in a good mood after he met you, and when he saw you with another guy he was in a bad mood again! He’s obviously super into you.” You groaned.

“Al that’s insane. I barely know the guy, I’m sure his drama is completely unrelated.” Your friends all gave you skeptical looks.

“Whatever, I like Noah and I’m gonna see where this goes. Can I eat in peace now?”

* * *

Saturday passed and it wasn’t long until you all found yourselves at the delta chi party. You weren’t drinking, as you still had a ton of homework to do and were still secretly trying to be dchi sweetheart, which meant being responsible.

“What’s wrong babe?” Kyle asked approaching you. You were sitting on the kitchen counter talking to the boys at the bar and sipping on a soda.

“Nothing!” You said and plastered a smile on your face.

“Uh uh, nope, somethings wrong.”

“Ky, I’m fine. Just stressed about school and stuff.” Your phone pinged beside you and before you could stop him, Kyle grabbed it.

“Whose Noah?” Kyle asked. You grabbed your phone back, reading the message.

Noah

miss u babe

this party is boring why dont u come over

You and Noah had been texting on and off all day, nothing super serious, just little flirty messages.

“He’s no one.” You replied.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Kyle said and raised his eye brows. You just rolled your eyes.

“Leave it, Ky.”

“Y/N!” You heard a voice call. Sam, president of delta chi, stumbled into the room.

“Hi, Sam,” you greeted with a smile.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.

“Me too.”

“You know we’re voting tomorrow.” He said with a wink.

“Is that so?” You replied.

“So expect a phone call tomorrow night.” He said before leaving the room with 2 fresh beers.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #frat!tom

6 notes · View notes

apparentlynotreallyfinnish · 5 years

Text

I Only Want You to See Me

I started a new ficlet and a part of it was supposed to be a small flashback scene about the boys in college. Well, that original ficlet is now scrapped and what I have for you is the first chapter of what could be about a 10-ish chapter-long collerge!rhink fic. It has a hint of exhibitionism, lots of smut and pining. There will be angst, since that’s kinda my brand. Let me know if you’d like me to continue! ---

Rhett caught Link jerking off a few too many times on their dorm room couch before he started to suspect that Link was doing it on purpose; that he deliberately chose times when he knew Rhett would be coming back to their room. When the idea popped into Rhett’s mind, he couldn’t get rid of it. It gnawed at him. It seemed totally ridiculous a first. Why would Link do that? But there was already a mountain of evidence to support his hypothesis. Despite his growing suspicion, Rhett turned the idea around in his head for a good while before doing anything about it.

Then one Wednesday night, he purposefully mentioned to Link in passing that he’d be back from study group around eight. Link didn’t seem to react in any way. He was buried amongst a pile of textbooks and notes when Rhett left the room. So, he didn’t expect anything to actually happen that night but, lo and behold, when he returned to their room, Link was sitting, bare legs spread, on their couch fucking his own fist.

Link jumped when Rhett slammed the door closed behind him. Link paused the video he’d been watching and scrambled to pull up his pants.

“Ha!” Rhett exclaimed with a pointed finger. He felt strangely victorious. Link scowled at him.

“Maybe knock first,” he huffed. Rhett cocked an eyebrow at him. Link got up.

“Knock? On my own door? I don’t think so, bo. Sit your ass back down. We’re gonna talk about this thing you’ve been doing.”

“What thing? I’m not doing anything,” Link muttered but sat down as instructed. Rhett threw his backpack on his bed and paced around the room for a bit. He hadn’t really thought about how to approach this subject. He probably should have. It wasn’t exactly a casual talk about favorite movie quotes or about classes. What could he say?

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he finally stated, deciding that going at it head on was the best option. Link’s eyes grew wide and Rhett saw a flash of fear in them. Link shook his head desperately.

“That’s ridiculous! Do you even hear yourself? Why the heck would I do that? You think I wanna get caught?” Link babbled wringing his hands in his lap. Rhett stopped pacing and looked at him.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I think. What is going on?”

“Nothing! Nothing is going on. You’re the one barging in on me all the time. Maybe it’s you! Maybe you want to catch a peek,” Link tried to turn it on Rhett and Rhett scoffed at him. He rolled his eyes and just said, “Really? That’s so weak, man.” Link’s mouth turned into a pout and he sank into a slouch. Rhett looked at him for a moment, feeling his annoyance slowly drift away. What was left was pure worry born out of years of friendship; something that could only come from sharing your life with someone like they had and if he was totally honest with himself, sharing a part of your soul too. Rhett crouched next to Link and tried to catch his eye.

“Hey. I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything. I won’t judge, really.”

Link turned his head away from Rhett and there was an unmistakable wobble in his chin. Rhett’s stomach tightened. Oh God, please don’t cry. I can’t take it when you cry.

“Link. Come on, Linkster. Tell your boy what’s going on,” Rhett coaxed him still. Link took a deep breath and tensed his shoulders.

“I like it,” he said with a shaky whisper.

“Hm?” Rhett prompted.

“I like… I like the idea of someone watching me. When I touch myself,” Link continued, cheeks flashing red and voice cracking slightly. He turned to look at Rhett, eyes glistening and his lower lip protruding. “I’m a freak! I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll stop.” He tried to get up. Rhett grabbed his arm and sat him back down.

“Stop. Stop that right now. You think I care? Really? You think it matters to me what you get off on? Because it doesn’t. I still love you… like a brother,” he added at the end, because that’s what they always did. “You’re not a freak. You just have a… what are they called? A fetish?”

“That’s a horrible word,” Link whispered.

“A preference?” Rhett offered. Link nodded slowly and a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Are you sure you’re not disgusted?” he asked, eyes intently looking for clues on Rhett’s face. Rhett let out a huff of a laugh.

“I am so not. We all have our things. It’s normal. Just, I don’t appreciate you using me like that…”

“I’m so sorry! I just… What else can I do? I can’t go out there and make some stranger look at me! That’s like… a crime,” Link said looking horrified at the thought. Rhett shook his head.

“Of course not. But wouldn’t it have been easier to just ask me?” Rhett asked. Link scowled at him. He crossed his arms across his chest.

“And what? You would have been like ‘sure bo, I’ll watch you jack off’?” he snapped. Rhett looked at him almost confused.

“Yeah.”

Link’s eyes widened and his mouth popped open.

“Really?” he asked voice small and adorably hopeful.

“I mean, I’m not gonna participate! But if it helps you to get yourself off, I can watch. That’s what blood brothers are for, right?” Rhett said. He really didn’t care. He’d seen Link’s dick many times. So what if he had to watch him tug on it for a bit. Didn’t seem like such a big deal. And, honestly, Rhett was kind of relieved that this was Link’s thing. For a while there he’d been worried that Link might have developed some feelings for him.

Link looked like he was about to cry from happiness. He launched himself from the couch and hugged Rhett so tight they almost fell on the floor.

“Hey! None of this shit while it’s happening, okay? No touching. I’m merely an observer. Like one of those nature documentary cameramen. I can’t interfere,” Rhett said, voice stern. There were certain lines he wasn’t going to cross.

“Of course,” Link breathed, all giddy and appreciative. “You, um… can we do it right now?” he asked hesitantly. Rhett shrugged.

“Sure. Why not? You were already going at it. Would be rude to leave you with blue balls.”

Link smiled wide and hopped back on the couch. Rhett pulled up a desk chair and sat across from him.

“This okay?” he asked Link. Link bit his lip and nodded. He motioned towards the TV, where a porn scene was paused.

“Can I…?” he asked.

“Of course. I’m not expecting you to look at me!” Rhett laughed. Link laughed too and the tension that had clouded the room while they talked dissipated a bit. Link pressed play. Rhett turned to watch the scene for a bit. It was pretty basic stuff, something he’d get off on too. Then he turned back towards his best friend. Link was looking at the TV, his eyes periodically flitting to Rhett. Rhett tried to relax in his seat. He leaned back and crossed his arms. Link was sitting still, hands on his knees, gnawing at his lip. Rhett waited. The room was filled with sounds of sex. The whole situation was starting to become a bit too strange.

“You gonna get going or what?” Rhett blurted out. Link frowned at him.

“Maybe you should just be quiet,” he said with a snap. “And yeah, I’m gonna. Just. Give me a minute.”

“Fine. I just don’t want this to take all night,” Rhett said yawning. It was already late, and he still had assignments to do for tomorrow. Link huffed annoyed but moved to open his jeans and wiggled his bottom to lower them to his knees. He glanced at Rhett as he did the same to his boxer briefs. He was sporting a semi. It lay swollen and red against his thigh. Rhett’s eyes automatically trained on it. He couldn’t help it. When someone was showing their dick, you looked at it, even if you didn’t want to. It was a given.

Link’s tongue slipped quickly out of his mouth to lick his lips and he reached for the lotion on the coffee table. Soon he was holding onto his lotion-slicked cock and moving his hand slowly. His eyes were mostly on the porn but once in a while they trailed back to Rhett, like he was making sure that he was still being watched. The look on his face was dreamy, lids half-closed and mouth hanging slightly open.

“You’re a leftie?” Rhett suddenly realized. Link jumped, startled by the sudden sound. He sighed and his hand stilled for a moment. “Rhett, please.”

“Sorry!” Rhett said, lifting his hands in apology. “Just thought it was interesting…”

“If you keep talking, we’re gonna be here all night,” Link said with a hint of a scowl. Rhett grimaced and motioned locking his lips and throwing away the key. Link looked at him for a moment with his eyebrows threaded together before concentrating on the TV again. His hand stroked his cock slowly but surely.

Rhett tried to keep a relatively uninterested look on his face, but it was surprisingly difficult. He was actually kind of fascinated. Link was so much bigger than he’d thought. He’d never seen him like this, at full attention. And the way he touched himself… It was so different. Not at all like Rhett did. For Rhett, it was always something to get over with: a way to release tension. Obviously, he enjoyed it - it did feel good after all - but he never reveled in it like Link seemed to. Link’s movements were fluid but slow, almost languid. He changed his hand position periodically, sighing every time he did it like he’d been keeping himself waiting and the change was just the thing he needed. His other hand was not still either. It moved on his body; cradled his balls, caressed his stomach and chest, gently tugged on his hair and even slipped his fingers into his mouth every so often. He seemed to be totally enthralled with himself. And honestly, so was Rhett.

Rhett shifted in his seat. He realized he was getting hard. He hadn’t expected that. He quickly chalked it up to the porn playing next to him. That had to be it. He was definitely not getting aroused by his best friend pleasuring himself. Rhett crossed his legs and pressed his growing length between his thighs. He almost let slip a small moan. The pressure was too sweet. Rhett’s eyes flitted to Link. He seemed to be totally oblivious to Rhett’s predicament. His eyes were closed, and he’d thrown his head back. At some point, he’d lifted his shirt up and over his head to reveal his chest and stomach, presumably to not to get it dirty. Rhett tried to steady his breathing. It was getting increasingly ragged. Fuck. He really needed to touch himself.

Link’s hand was getting quicker and jerkier. He breathed almost in sync with Rhett’s erratic rhythm. Rhett was so hypnotized by Link’s movements that what happened next still took him totally by surprise. Link drew a sharp breath, groaned, and then his hand slowed to a deliberate pumping motion. Long, pearly-white strands of cum painted his chest. Rhett’s eyes shot wide open and his palm involuntarily pressed on his crotch. A small whine escaped him. Thankfully, Link was so wrapped up in his own pleasure he seemed to have not noticed. Rhett quickly shifted his erection, so it blended better into his pant leg and then uncrossed his legs.

“Can I talk now?” he asked Link. Link’s lids flitted open. He looked at Rhett smiling a small goofy smile. His head bobbed to a nod.

“Was that what you wanted?” Rhett confirmed. He got a breathy “yeah” as an answer.

“Good. Took you long enough. I’m gonna go shower.” Rhett snatched his towel and some clean clothes and basically ran from the room. He was so close to coming that even the friction from his pants as he walked was making him squirm and gasp. Thankfully, the hallway was empty. He rushed to the shower stall and relieved himself under the warm running water. He barely needed to touch himself before he was already coming all over the tile walls. He came harder than ever before. His forehead thumped against the wall and he bit his lip until it bled to quell his moans. He definitely was not thinking about Link orgasming as he came.

When he got back to the room, the TV was closed and there were two peanut butter and jam sandwiches on the counter for him. Link was already eating. Rhett sat next to him.

“Thanks,” Rhett said trying to sound normal. Because everything was normal, right? Link mumbled an almost unintelligible “you’re welcome” and smiled. He’d already gotten some jam on his cheek. Rhett snorted.

“You’re such a pig,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Wha?” Link asked confused. Rhett pointed at him. “You got a little…” Link kept wiping at his face, managing to touch everywhere else but where it counted. Rhett kept pointing and laughing. Link huffed annoyed. Rhett laughed until his stomach hurt. Link rolled his eyes at him and finally caught the red dollop on his finger.

“Ha!” he announced and promptly stuck his finger into his mouth. Rhett’s dick twitched curiously at the sight of it. Fuck.

#rhink #rhink fic #Appa writes fic #See Me fic #Chapter 1 #college!rhink #lemon #idiots in love?

65 notes · View notes

guitarclasses · 4 years

Text

10 Tips To Learn How to Play the Guitar with Good Technique

Here are my best 10 hints for figuring out how to play the guitar with great method. Some of them are somewhat self-evident, while others are the aftereffect of long understanding. I trust they help. Coincidentally, how about we accept that you're correct given player. Lefties can make the undeniable change.

1. Stay away from The Left-Hand Death Grip

At the point when you first beginning playing, straight away you'll find that squeezing the strings against the fret boardhow-to-play-the-guitar is difficult work, harms your fingers and makes your wrist hurt. The regular method to battle this is by snaring your thumb over the highest point of the fret board to get influence, which coincidentally makes you press the strings more with the level cushion of your finger (where your unique mark is) as opposed to the real fingertip.

step by step instructions to play-the-guitarThis is now and then called the "extremely tight grip", since you do wind up with a genuinely savage hold on your neck and it confines the range of your fingers. The best possible method is to have your thumb on the rear of the guitar's neck. This pressures you into taking a potentially rash action to utilize the fingertips, which is obviously better and increasingly precise with regards to playing only the notes you need without incidentally quieting contiguous strings. The difficulty is — it feels sort of bizarre and troublesome from the outset, and your wrist will need quality. Stick with it and you'll value the advantages further down the track. Keep in mind, thumb on the rear of the neck.

2. Practice Standing Up And Sitting Down

instructions to play-the-guitarhow-to-play-the-guitarOkay, things are hard enough all things considered without anticipating that you should waltz around the room while you're playing. The significant thing is, in case you're going to take this fantasy as far as possible, one day you'll be standing up before swarm. Playing with your guitar threw over your shoulder is a totally different stance to plunking down.

On a seat, you will in general slouch over and attempt to perceive what your hands are doing (another negative behavior pattern you need to maintain a strategic distance from). At that point, when you're standing up, everything changes. Attempt it and you'll understand. You'll see it a lot harder to see your left hand, for a beginning. Ensure you have a decent guitar tie, alter it to an agreeable length (overlook throwing it down around your knees — looks cool, however it's a poop playing position) and routinely work on playing while you're holding up.

3. No Need For Speed

10-tips-method how-to-play-the-guitarDon't ever trouble attempting to figure out how to play quick. Truly, don't do it. Great strategy is about precise fingering and hitting the correct notes inevitably, particularly with regards to scales and playing precarious bar harmonies. Focus on exact fingering. Actually, figure out how to play appropriately and speed will happen without anyone else. The greatest deterrent to quick playing is poor procedure. Learn great method and quick fingering will be a tossed in without for reward. Continuously take as much time as is needed and play gradually. Use Uberchord Guitar App, it is a free application that tunes in to you while you practice the guitar and amends when you play wrong.

4. Continuously Use Correct Fingering

Throughout the time of guitar playing the specialists have since quite a while ago made sense of the most ideal approach to play certain harmonies and scales, which means which fingers ought to play certain notes on the fret load up.

At times, you may find a simpler method of playing these — you're a melodic virtuoso and never knew it. Try not to be enticed. Right fingering isn't just about playing that harmony or scale appropriately. Including varieties is considered as well, for example, sevenths and ninths, and your custom style of fingering a harmony may demonstrate that those varieties can't be played (that's right, this is something I took in the most difficult way possible). Give cautious consideration to the right fingering of a harmony and your hand's situation on the fret board for scales. Uberchord will tell you precisely the best way to do it.

5. Quiet Rehearsing

how-to-play-the-guitarYou need to watch your preferred TV demonstrate when you should practice? Try not to freeze, a ton can be accomplished by holding your guitar and continually trading starting with one harmony then onto the next or playing scales without culling the strings with your correct hand. What you're doing is as yet preparing your left hand to play — it's all strong practice. Great method is secured propensities when you're playing. With your thumb on the rear of the neck, recollect?

6. Utilize A Metronome!

the most effective method to play-the-guitarPlaying to a tick track is extremely hard from the start, however the points of interest later on are inconceivable. Your feeling of musicality and timing will get an early lift, in the event that you take a stab at utilizing a metronome soon in your vocation. In any case, don't worry about it to an extreme and ensure you set the beats-per-minute (BPM) to something exceptionally slow. The thought is to become acclimated to playing in time and at a consistent beat, however don't surge this to the detriment of learning procedure. Incidentally, you'll discover piles of metronome applications on the web. What's more, here are 5 different ways you can utilize a metronome to improve your guitar playing.

7. Try not to Shy Away From Difficult Chords

the most effective method to play-the-guitarA not many weeks back in my studio, I was recording a companion called Mary, an artist guitarist, who might move paradise and earth to abstain from playing a B minor harmony. She viewed the fingering as too troublesome and utilized capos and all way of transpositions to evade the feared bar harmony. In the event that anything, you should search out these troublesome bits and invest additional time and vitality on consummating precarious harmonies, else, you'll see them a psychological obstruction to your playing for the remainder of your life.

8. Be Disciplined With Your Practice

the most effective method to play-the-guitar

Nothing beats routinely putting your hands on the guitar and rehearsing the most recent exercises. Regardless of whether it's only for ten minutes on a day when you're in any case excessively occupied. Great strategy originates from your psyche and your fingers recalling how it's completely expected to function, especially with regards to those dubious fingerings. Attempt to put aside some time each day and grow great playing propensities. It'll likewise assist with working up those calluses on your fingertips.

With the most recent form of the Uberchord App you can make your profile and set day by day or week by week objectives. It keeps tabs on your development and sends you updates, in the event that you are getting apathetic and losing center.

9. Offer Yourself A Reprieve and Listen to Music

10-tips-procedure how-to-play-the-guitarThe opposite side of the condition isn't to propel yourself excessively hard to start with. At the point when your muscles begin to squeak and the fingertips are stinging, enjoy a reprieve and unwind for some time. You can without much of a stretch strain something and harm ligaments and tendons in the event that you disregard the risk signs that you need a rest.

10. Remember Your Right Hand Practice

10-tips-procedure how-to-play-the-guitarSometimes it's acceptable to just quiet the strings with your left hand and work on making a percussive musicality with your right-hand playing. Uberchord application additionally includes a strummer mentor to improve your mood and timings.

On the other hand, pick a simple harmony (or no harmony by any stretch of the imagination) and spotlight for some time on any finger-picking and plectrum style that you're learning. The fact of the matter is that your right-hand method is frequently overlooked in the push to get those fingers on your left hand doing the right thing. Remember that figuring out how to play the guitar is a two-gave bargain.

There you have it. Like I said before, a great deal of these tips are clear and good judgment, however numerous new players despite everything commit basic errors in their energy to start playing energizing stuff. Get the nuts and bolts right, the best possible method occurring from the earliest starting point when figuring out how to play the guitar, and you can be an incredible player as opposed to only a decent one.

1 note · View note

shiiloveu · 4 years

Text

Toptal Scholarship | Mentorship for Women in STEM

When my generation starts to imagine their future, instead of hope and the image of greener grass, we stop and shudder. The vision of wars over fundamental resources like water and food, massively shrinking coastlines, and the decimated rainforests encompass the mind. Our vision of our future is interrupted by the fact that if our society does not change our current course, we will have no future at all. A gloom and sense of defeat sets over me when I think of a future without the necessary changes, but I refuse to succumb to despair. I do not want this vision of the future.

In elementary and middle school, I would do all I could to live a more sustainable life; I started a recycling club, read every book from the library I could on the facts and figures of climate change, and would collect and sort all trash I could find. All the adults in my life would smile and pat my head, they would say I was adorable but that climate change would be solved by the time I was an adult. As I grew up, I saw scientists and experts get drowned out by confident, louder voices. I grew up in Los Angeles, the city of cars and when I was inevitably stuck in traffic, I would look around and see a sea of little combustion generators all making the problem incrementally worse. I would see myself, a hypocrite, sitting in my gas guzzler and know that we deserve better.

In many moments similar to that one, I decided that I want to be someone to help directly solve this problem. A global crisis like climate change requires global collective action as our world’s economy runs off of a source that is hurting us.

I want to help engineer sustainable transportation and electric power for the world. My vision for the future is one that involves human life living with their basic needs powered by a source that does not harm us. I decided to become an electrical engineer, with a focus on engineering systems to support sustainable transportation and power.

In some aspects, this was an obvious choice. I love transportation. I love moving on and the joy and surprise that comes with venturing to a new place or a blissful familiar one. It's what moves society. I love bikes, cars, long roads, planes, and rockets because they get us to where we need to go, and there is nothing more fundamental to humans than the ability to move forward. I hope to make technology that will move us forward in a sustainable way.

However, in my first ~18 years of life, I can never recall meeting a scientist or an engineer, or especially a female scientist or engineer for that matter. The closest I got was a Barbie in a lab coat. And as much as I adore Barbie, I knew that engineers existed but they did not exist on my radar. They did things that always seemed a few footsteps removed away from my life or consciousness; I knew that calculus existed but never as something that I would ever do.

My entire family are teachers and lawyers, and while they are respectable and necessary professions, I always saw myself becoming a teacher and never thought much of it.

The mentorship opportunities the Toptal Scholarship offers are invaluable to me, as I do not have adult guidance in my field. I think I know what I want, but I would love to have a mentor who I could learn and listen to. I would especially value a female mentor as women only earn 12.5% of the Electrical Engineering Bachelors' degrees, according to the American Society of Engineering Education.

I remember sitting in Calculus 1 on the first day of my freshman year of college, shaking and anxiously looking around the massive lecture hall for a familiar face. From my position at the leftie desk, I calmed myself by attempting to count the number of other girls in the class. The professor began his lecture while I was only halfway through the room but the class was about 35% female and I felt a little relieved. However, as the quarters became years, I saw the women dwindle away. I saw many of my female friends switch to different majors or drop out. Some of them genuinely did not like the material and chose to follow a different passion, but for many, their mental health deteriorated under the constant stress and pressure of engineering academia, in parallel with family obligations and toxic relationships.

I am no exception to this. For the majority of my freshman year, I was hopelessly lost and alone. I felt like the odd one out in all of my classes. I struggled tremendously with calculus and physics as I realized that I never learned how to properly learn in previous education. I needed a mentor, I needed someone who had been where I was and could tell me how they worked past it. While there are dozens of campus resources with STEM Girl-power language, and I appreciate the effort, it felt empty at a certain point. I almost quit engineering many more times than I am proud to admit. At that time I had no friends in STEM and a sexually abusive boyfriend that left me feeling silly and ridiculous for even trying.

However, it was my goal to help engineer a better tomorrow that kept me on my path and I am beyond thankful for that. Even though I am worlds more mentally healthy than I was in my freshman year of college, I still would value a female STEM mentor to help guide me. I want a woman I can look up to and I would appreciate the opportunity for one more than anything.

I decided that to help accomplish my goals outside of university, I would start by helping solve those problems through university organizations. I am very passionate about sustainable transportation and electric cars so I joined Formula Slug, UCSC’s Electric Racecar team. In my first year with them, I designed my first sustainable project, a solar charging station. In Formula Slug I learned a multitude of valuable skills like surface mount soldering, PCB design, TIG and MIG welding, project management, engineering logistics, AutoCAD Design, and project fundraising, leading our team to raise tens of thousands of dollars. By my junior year, I was Vice-President and Project Manager of our team.

At the same time, I am also very passionate about sustainable engineering and so me and a group of like-minded students formed the UCSC Chapter of Engineers without Borders. I was the founding Vice-President of UCSC-EWB and wrote several successful grant proposals for our project. Our main project is our solar project in Takui, Cameroon. The people and schools in Takui and towns nearby run on unreliable power and we are working to design a system that provides power and will function effectively for 10 years with minimum need for repairs. We designed and are implementing a solar micro-power grid and water purification system as well as selling individual home packages to provide power to the homes in Takui.

My connections from Formula Slug alumni got me an interview and internship at Joby Aviation, an electric Vertical Takeoff and Landing (eVTOL) company as first a Software Certification Engineer and now as a Radio Frequency Electrical engineer. Joby’s goal is to create electric air taxis to replace the average person’s commute and help relieve the world’s reliance on fossil fuels. I am very proud and honored to be working for Joby because it brings me to my goal of working toward sustainable transportation for the masses.

My passion for using science to serve others is not simply within transportation engineering. I am also incredibly interested in biotechnology and nuclear energy. This interest has led me to recurrently begin working in UCSC’s nuclear medicine lab. Our team is designing an optimized PET scan for head and neck cancers. I have begun working as the lead of a sub-project, designing a detailed simulation of the positron emission topology scan in C++. This simulation will allow our team to know how changing different elements of our set-up will affect gamma-ray emission and therefore, where to put the ray emission suspectors. My research professor does not want me to publish my code on GIT publicly yet so I have not attached a GitHub link, I apologize.

I have many interests and passions but at the end of the day, I want to help engineer the world to be a better place. I would be honored to receive the Toptal scholarship and mentorship opportunities, but I understand that there are many distinguished applicants so I thank you for reading.

#toptal toptalscholarship STEM latina electricalengineer

2 notes · View notes