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#apparently it'll be hot tomorrow
fazcinatingblog · 1 month
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I went outside in 30 degree heat and now I'm dead. Learn from my mistakes, Tumblr. Never leave the house.
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mysticarcanum · 11 months
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straight up this heatwave is. so bad for me. it is may. it is 31 degrees. i keep wondering why im struggling to think and then i remember that it's the heat it's always the heat i can't do things in the heat. why can't it be 18 degrees. 14, even. for me. as a little treat.
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sparks | carlos sainz
Description: Carlos Sainz used to be your babysitter, now that you were older - you meet him in the paddocks, and an affair ensues.
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It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment of carelessness. If you had believed it, you no longer did.
You used to belong in the upper echelon. Dinner parties, soirees, expensive bags and yacht parties. There wasn't a thing in this world that you couldn't afford - well, that was the past, and ever since your father's death, the family has been a little tight on money.
"Can you handle writing the reports for this new car? The dudes want to grab a few drinks, and you didn't wanna come with." your co-worker leans on the wall beside your desk and you respond with a hum. "I have all the time in the world." you answer, typing a few emails before turning your head in his direction.
"- what time do you need those reports done?" you inquired and he stared at the ceiling. "Preferably before 10, but it'll be okay if you send them tomorrow." he answered, walking away as he sees the other guys in his peripheral view.
As one of the interns in Ferrari - you were in the bottom of the food chain. Unpaid overtimes, too much workload and too little rest was basically normal for you.
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"Santisima trinidad!" you exclaimed seeing another man inside of the garage when you opened the lights. "Carlos, I didn't see you there." you scratched the back of your head, keeping your eyes on the floor.
He'd never recognize you, last time he saw you - you were five years old and that was sixteen years ago. "I'm sorry for scaring you." he chuckled, while taking a sip of his beer. "I was just checking the car," he reasoned, placing his phone on his back pocket.
"In the dark?" you asked.
"I couldn't find the light switch." he blushed. Deciding that it was probably a conversation that he wasn't comfortable with, you take a step forward, holding the clipboard close to your chest. He stares at your face for a moment, eyes trailing back and forth between your eyes and your lips.
"You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" he stared deeper into your eyes. A chill runs down your spine. There was no way that you'd let him recognize you - it would be awkward. A gigantic elephant in the middle of the room.
"I'm Ferrari's new intern. I think we already met each other back in Spa." you navigated yourself out of the ridiculous predicament. He licks his lips, and suddenly the atmosphere thickens. "Well, you look good." he gives you a micro-smile, walking away from the garage.
As his shadow retreats from view, you let out a breath that you weren't aware that you were holding.
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yourname: my biggest hobby 🚗
liked by carlossainz55 and 812 others
>comments
maneater69: UR SO MOMMY AND DADDY CODED liked by yourname
carlossainz55: ❤️
maneater69: HOLDUP @yourname ANSWER UR DMS RN - yourname: SIS IDK WHAT'S GOING ON...
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"Lemme guess, he used his favorite line: you look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" Paige, your co-worker, teased.
Carlos Sainz was renowned around the paddocks for being a womanizer. There wasn't a single pretty lady that he hasn't spoken to, and apparently he had a modus operandi - one that now involved you. "I mean it's weird because he actually does know me." you shrugged, wiping the car grease from your overalls.
"You used to go to the same school? You're from the same town?" Paige inquired, piqued by the sudden turn of events. "He used to be my babysitter." you groaned, regrettably exposing your secret.
A gasp escapes her mouth.
"That's some hot shit." she chuckled.
"You read too much romance novels." you tried to hide your interest. "- a man whose obviously much older than you, begins to fall in love." Paige antagonized even further, earning a sigh.
Her eyes light up, like headlights.
"Wait, now you have to be my plus one in that event that I'm going to. Carlos is going to be there!" she exclaimed, hatching a devious plan. "But he's a womanizer? Why would you want me to go for him?" your eyes narrowed, annoyed that you were even involved with him in a conversation involving love.
"He'll change for you - and if he doesn't, at least you experienced the feeling of having him love you." Paige mused.
"Sounds chauvinistic." you shrug and she rolls her eyes. "Take one good look at his face, cuz' if you're asking me. I'd rather find ruin in his hands than with some other cheap fuck." she tried to convince you, but you already wanted Carlos Sainz Jr. the moment you talked to him inside of that dark garage.
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yourname: ferrari knows how to partay
liked by carlossainz55 and 723 others
>comments
paigenewhart: um ma'am who gave u the permit to serve? liked by yourname - yourname: i'd like to see ur permit too?
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After the main event, you were quickly whisked off to one of the after-parties. The club was pumping, the music was about to make your ears explode, but suddenly someone's hands were on the small of your back. You turn your head, and you meet his brown ones.
Carlos Sainz Jr. the man that you were here for.
His hands were tenderly placed on your body, nothing sexual - just sensual. It felt normal for his hand to be there. It was nothing different from a husband holding his wife, it was natural for him to be touching you, there were no electric sparks or anything.
"Intern from Ferrari?" he smiled and you smiled in return.
He remembered!
"I don't think that we properly introduced each other. I'm Carlos." he presented his free hand for you to shake. "(Your Name)," you smiled, hoping that he wouldn't remember.
"Oh, that is why you were familiar!" he giggled, a wave of resonance flashing through his features. "I used to babysit you, right? I didn't even recognize you - you've changed." his eyes lingered back and forth. Men like him were easy, there was hidden desire behind those innocent brown eyes.
"- and you haven't changed at all." your teeth burrowed into your cheeks. "You make me feel old, there's only what...seven years between us?" he inquired, doing all the mental math.
"Yep, I was six and you were thirteen." you chuckled nervously, suddenly all the bass seem to tune out of your ears - and the only thing that you could pay attention to was Carlos.
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His lips were on yours, the taste of champagne echoing through your enclosed mouth. His hands roamed around your body, a man searching for water in the middle of a desert.
"Why don't we take this to my room?" he suggested, and you broke free from the kiss - by extension also his hug. A wave of clarity engulfed your body. Did you really want to do this?
"I'm not that kind of person. I'm sorry, this was a mistake." you bolted out of your seat, retreating into the sea of people in front of you.
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(UNKNOWN NUMBER) Not that kind of person What does that mean?
(YOU) not the kind to do 1 night stands m sorry
(Sainz Jr.) I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I never thought of you as just a one night thing. (YOU) nono it's ok don't lie on my account i understand (Sainz Jr.) No it's not. Let me make it up for you. .
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yourname: spontaneous trip to paris 🇫🇷
liked by carlossainz55 and 812 others
>comments
carlossainz55: Five minutes before disaster - yourname: not my fault 🤷🏻‍♀️
carlandounite: UMM? CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GF?
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carlossainzjrupdates: Carlos Sainz's new gf? @yourname who is apparently a family friend. This is a pic of her with Ana Sainz, Carlos' sister.
liked by 8,483 others
>comments have been restricted
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alycremie · 4 months
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borrowers core brainrot
imagining a girl moving into a new apartment,, its in a low-income neighbourhood, she's been warned of the apparent pest problem. apparently rats or something, and traps don't seem to work on them. but what other choice does she have? and little does she know the "rats" are tiny "tenants" living inside the walls
she moves in all her stuff. its not much - cheap thrifted stuff, handcrafted clothes, furniture she's picked up off the side of the street. But it'll do. It's cozy - it's home. She likes it.
But her food keeps disappearing. It's not much. Maybe some fruit here or there, some crackers vanishing from the box. Her leftover burger and fries vanishing and being replaced with crumbs.
She tries to find the source of the rats. Clearly they're somewhere, and she doesn't want to hurt them. She looks and looks but the walls - although cheap - are solid. maybe hollow? she's not sure, and isn't going to go spend a bunch of money to drill into the walls or anything. it's not *dirty* in the flat, so she just stops leaving her easily accessible food out.
When an entire can of food is mysteriously emptied, she gets curious. Obviously rats can't use can openers, so what happened? Was the top already loose? She looks around in the cabinet. Nothing.
She realizes the back of her cupboard that she's kept her cheap canned food in has a hollow space behind it. It doesn't line up with the side board. It's about 4 inches too short, it looks like. She presses her ear towards it, thinking she heard some mouse squeaks, but it's all silence.
that's when she notices a little hole. It's about the size of a large screw, and looks like it was drilled by hand. Maybe that's how the rats are getting in, she thinks. But she doesn't mind. She just puts her canned goods somewhere else. what's she gonna do, anyway? she doesn't know how to repair cabinets and she certainly can't afford to hire someone to.
and when she wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of a plastic ramen container falling on the floor, she tosses off her hand-stitched blanket and cute plushies and stumbles into the kitchen in her pyjamas.
She turns on the light and sees what looks like a tiny toy sitting on the countertop. She staggers sleepily over - she must be dreaming, but nope.
A young woman, seemingly about her age maybe an inch, inch and a half? two inches - she was never that good at measuring sizes - is sitting on the countertop attempting an elaborate heist of a ramen package.
The tiny girl's eyes go WIDE. like they're about to pop out of her head. She trembles in fear, attempting to explain herself but sputtering a bunch of nonsense consonants.
and she kneels down, picking up the package of chili flavour maruchan noodles.
"you...wanted this?" she asks, hardly able to believe the situation in front of her but too sleepy to question it. it certainly feels real.
"i-i'm so sorry, i-i was just... we're hungry, is all, and... we like grinding up the noodle brick... they're chips, y-y'know, they last-"
"sorry, you eat it raw?"
"w-we don't have a stove," the tiny girl trembles, trying to regain her composure in the face of someone 40 times her size.
"i can...cook it for you. i-i don't mind, or anything. i don't have anywhere to be tomorrow. it's my day off," she smiles reassuringly, grabbing a pot out of the lower cupboard to fill with hot water.
"can i watch?" the tiny girl asks, brushing a strand of curly hair out of her face. the tear streaks down her face have run dry. the giant is friendly.
"sure!" she smiles, reading her hand out. the tiny girl slowly climbs on top of of it. "you're not scared of heights, are you?"
"you're not scared of, um,"
"what?"
"...i was worried that, you'd uh,"
"Ah... i see. I mean, one packet of ramen would last you, like, three months, huh? I don't mind making one little bowl for you. you can just...ask. You don't have to take stuff." She smiles. "You only gotta take stuff when no one will give it to you, and I got you,"
The tiny girl blushes as she sits on the counter, watching intently as the kind-hearted giant puts a swimming pool's worth of water into a pot the size of a building, which she seems to hold effortlessly. and she turns on the stove, rings the size of a sequoia's trunk glowing as the water heats to a boil. It was mesmerizing, to watch the power and dexterity of giants, she thought.
"Always make sure to boil the water first, otherwise you'll destroy the texture of the ramen," she gently instructs, as if the tiny girl even has access to a stove.
"You know how to cook...?"
"Well, of course." She smiles. "I take it you haven't been eating well, huh? insects and moss?"
The tiny girl huffs. "We've actually been eating the nonperishables of the previous tenant... they left and closed up the cupboard so we'd be safe."
"well...you won't have to do that anymore, okay? um...i don't know how you'll get it into that little cupboard, but I'll get a bowl for myself and for-wait, we? What do you mean we?"
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kelcemenow · 8 months
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As The Snow Falls - Chapter 4.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 1117
Warnings Strong language, slight smut and some pretty intense moments.
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CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
You leaned in, his hands moving to your waist. Your lips were parted and Travis' head tilted upwards, his eyes studying your face. His hands felt strong and you imagined that he would be easily able to lift you up or throw you onto a bed with an intense passion. Something tightened inside of you, an undulation of desire for the man you had tried to forget. His soft lips ghosted over yours, a tingle of warmth surrounding you as his fingers drifted to your lower back, ducking underneath your swimsuit.
You felt his hips roll slightly underneath you when a growing noise from the cabin distracted you.
"Shit." You pushed yourself up and quickly back down onto the seat next to Travis, the water rippling across the surface fiercely.
He looked at you with bewilderment as he adjusted himself, his brow furrowed.
Jasmine skipped onto the decking and as her eyes fell on you and Travis, her face changed immediately, "Oh. You two look cosy?"
Travis smirked and looked down at his lap, his hands swirling the water to distort the obvious appearance of his growing erection.
"What's going on?"
You forced a smile, "Nothing. Nothing at all. We're just...catching up."
Jasmine stared for a moment, before turning to Travis, "We're heading out to hit the slopes. Travis, are you coming?" Jasmine said, almost through her teeth.
He turned his head to you before looking back at Jasmine. Her eyes flickered between the pair of you, in a slight accusatory manner, and she tapped her foot whilst she waited for Travis to respond.
Travis exhaled sharply before resting his head back on the edge of the hot tub, "Nah, I'm good."
Jasmine blinked a couple of times, her eyebrows raised high, "Are you sure? I know all of the secluded routes...it'll be fun"
"Thanks Jasmine, but I'm actually thinking of catching the first snow tomorrow." He stretched his arms out, his left hand gently tickling your back, "Y/N and I will have dinner ready for when you all get back."
You watched Jasmine from the corner of your eye, not daring to fully face her. She was well known for having a tantrum if she didn't get her own way. You knew she was trying to get close to Travis and whilst you didn't own him and he was free to do whatever he wanted, you secretly wanted him to yourself.
"Okay." She said quickly, "Your loss."
She quickly flashed a smile before whipping around, her long hair following her head.
"Oh, you're in trouble now." You said quietly as you watched her disappear back into the cabin.
Travis hissed through his teeth, "I'd much rather be in trouble with you."
He leaned in towards you, his mouth only inches from your neck and his solid chest pressing against your arm. As his lips grazed your skin, you pulled away.
"I think you've had more than enough female attention, don't you." You stood up, water dripping down your body. "And I'm not about to be involved in any love triangles."
Travis' eyes widened as he watched your soft curves and glistening skin. You bent over the side of the hot tub, grabbing the bright orange beach towel and pulling it over your shoulders, your ass peeking out from underneath it. You turned back over your shoulder to see Travis unable to tear his gaze away from you.
"Wait, w-what?" He stuttered.
"Come on." You said as you gracefully stepped out and onto the decking, "We have dinner to make...apparently."
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Steam billowed from the large pot of chilli that was resting on the stove. You stirred it occasionally as you prepared the potatoes and counted how many bags of nachos you would need. The smell was inviting and mouth watering, a recipe that you had perfected and was always a big hit at parties and barbeques.
As Travis walked into the kitchen, you turned over your shoulder, "How was your shower?"
"So good." He stood next to you, glancing over at the plethora of food, "Something smells delicious?"
"Well, someone took so long showering that I thought I would get dinner started on my own. Homemade chilli, baked potatoes, cornbread, nachos and a big bowl of rice."
Travis inhaled and smiled warmly to you, "You're awesome. Need any help?"
You laughed, "It's all done, Travis. I'm just waiting for the chilli to finish cooking." You placed the tray of potatoes in the stove and closed the door, "You could help me by grabbing a bottle of wine from the refrigerator though?"
"For the food?"
You shook your head, "For us. I think I've earned a drink after this."
Travis turned and made his way to the other side of the kitchen. As he moved, your eyes couldn't help but to glance down, his perfect ass firm and tight. You took a deep and controlled breath as you felt your eyes becoming hazy at the sight in front of you.
"Can I ask you a question?" He said as he perused the multiple bottles.
Your head quickly snapped back to the countertop and you started stacking the plates that you would need for dinner. Clearing your throat, you responded, "Yeah, shoot."
"Why did you jump off of me like a kangaroo in the hot tub when Jasmine walked in?"
You sighed and turned to face him, "She's clearly got her eye on you and I don't want to upset her."
Travis reached across you to collect two wine glasses, "W-wait...she knows we've sort of got some history between us, right?"
You shook your head, "I met Jasmine after that and we all didn't really talk about it much. Well, me and Jason did. But Jasmine only hears what she wants to hear, most of the time. Besides, I don't want to make a big deal out of it. It isn't a big deal, is it?"
He opened the bottle with ease, his bulging muscles contorting next to you, "So if it isn't a big deal, why don't you just tell her?"
"Because I don't really know what I'm actually telling her." You turned to face him, "Like, what is this?"
Travis grinned and moved in closer to you, "It can be what you want it to be, baby."
Your stomach fluttered for what felt like the hundredth time. His glittering eyes locked with yours and were suddenly lost in his dreamy gaze.
"Travis-"
His hand moved up to the side of your face and he brushed some hair from your cheek, "Just think about it?"
You stuttered a breath and watched him leave with his wine glass as your stove timer snapped you out of your trance-like-state.
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I've tortured myself over this chapter, not being able to decide on the direction of the plot, hating certain moments and re-writing them all over again to realise that they were fine all along...so I really hope you enjoy this one. It's becoming a slow burn which seems to be my default! I'm getting started straight away with the next chapter so it shouldn't be too long of a wait for the next part but I've been knocking these out fairly quickly anyway which I'm pleased about. If you want to be included in my Taglist, comment or drop me a message and that way, you won't miss the next one!
Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26
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pvnks0ul · 8 months
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༺SHIVER༻
❥ riri williams x fem!reader
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summary: braiding her hair
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🚨: short + overusage of the word braid, that's it!
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ஐ it's no secret that Riri loves herself a good braid down! And as much as she gets cornrows & stitch braids, including the hairstyles we see in the little pics and stuff we get from the show, I refuse to believe she's tenderheaded.
ஐ riri'll be at your doorstep, in her casual wear, durag loosely hanging as she was only using it to hide the fading in her once neatly done parts, bookbag filled with overnight clothes & other supplies drawn over her shoulder, a tight smile on her face cause she knows you're about to get her right.
ஐ baby, loves being pampered!! She purposely doesn't take her hair down before coming over even when she knows you'll open the door with a lecture ready on how she should be letting her hair breathe before getting another hairstyle back to back because it'll end up with you standing over her, thighs & tummy in her face while her only contribution was to 'entertain' you by poking and grabbing at said places, scrolling through her phone when she realizes you weren't giving her a reaction and occasionally taking out a braid to speed up the process.
ஐ she'd 100% make you wait to set up the washing station(your sink) so she can set the water to the perfect temperature! No cold water at all but she doesn't want it scorching but it also needs to be mild-hot and apparently she's the only one who can get it just right so you let her take care of it.
ஐ nods in & out when you're scrubbing the shampoo into her scalp with your fingers. Tongue sliding over her chapped lips as she blinked slowly to keep herself up because It feels to much like a massage and you're sure if you didn't make her promise to rinse it all off when you were done she definitely would've signed off for the night, right there; bent over the sink.
ஐ has no problem sitting ontop a pillow on the floor, risking cheeks numbed to such an extreme that she would get up jelly legged, just so she gets to lay her head in your lap!! She's so sweet.
ஐ bites morelikenibbles you when you tap her forehead with the comb cause she didn't turn her head the right way... Only for you to pop her again.
"Damn-" Ri hisses, her hand flies up to her forehead, rubbing away at the spot, ever the drama queen.
"You really need to chill on that 'popping me with yo ugly ass comb' shit, ma."
"Did you not bite me first?" you asked before griping two strands of her coily hair, starting a new row.
She smacked her lips.
"Oh, ok."
ஐ winces when it doesn't even hurt because she likes having your attention... Huffs loudly when you don't react to her doing it after the fifth time because what if she was actually hurt?
ஐ accidentally left her phone on a table while you were washing her hair so now she has to entertain herself by messing with you until you got distracted from the braid so you had to start over, muttering something about her needing to "find somebody else to play with."
ஐ finds that "somebody else" in your thighs when she hooked her arms under them and shrugged them onto her shoulder like they were the straps of her bookbag or something and honestly once you felt your feet lift off the carpeted floor you had to pause to take it in...You didn't bother to say anything cause at least she was quiet and you were on the last braid.
ஐ you're getting down to the final steps which were to lather some mousse on each row down to the end and wrap them with the aforementioned durag that she brought over, only tying it tight enough that it would protect her hair and not prevent her from lifting it up because you knew riri would want to go look at it in the mirror before she goes to sleep.
ஐ she thanks you with her love; lots of wet kisses, sleepy waist rubs and slurred promises to make it up to you tomorrow as she drifted to sleep and you accepted them because she also thanks you by doing helping you with the assignments you haven't looked at since they were handed to you.
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A/n: I think about riri so much that I daydreamed about doing her hair...she's completely infiltrated my mind, sns
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icy-watch · 3 months
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That was so cute and wholesome. Aaaaah.
Um. Yeah. Just me crying over here.
I'm not really sure what to expect of the next season, but I was told it's called Master of the Mountain.
No idea what that could really mean, but I'm guessing there's a mountain and some guy who's the master of it. And that's really about all I have.
So, since this is the end of Prime Empire, I'll be watching the shorts tomorrow that explain some things. So, a chill day tomorrow. Until then!
Correct and incorrect predictions under the cut.
Correct
Unagami is one of the people in charge? Or an AI? Unagami is an AI and he was in charge.
Milton Dyer created Unagami. Yes.
The ninja will listen to Okino as he helps them thru Terra Kerana. They did, and Lloyd got a new dad.
Okino became more cognizant while he was with the ninja. He's also going to Go Thru It. He learned so much, and he gained so much more. Gained more Trauma, that is.
Unagami is an AI that gathered some consciousness. He did.
Unagami wants to go to Ninjago to find Milton Dyer. He did, and he was reunited with his dad after they had an emotional talk. The emotional one was me. I'm a wreck.
The ninja being out of credits will be important later. Meanwhile, in the very next episode...
The race is going to be the next episode. It was!
Seven will make it past the fourth mile marker. She did!
Rescue mission to recover Zane from the Mechanic. Surprisingly, yes, in the same episode as the background of Milton and Unagami.
Unagami is going to visit Ninjago, and he's going to bring some friends. It's not going to go well for Ninjago. The city has been in worse shapes after the final battle, but there was some damage. And people might have been injured.
We're going to lose Nya. She got rubix cubed, just like everybody else.
A confrontation between Milton and Unagami. TT__TT Yes.
Milton won't die.
Incorrect
Evil video game. Just a normal video game that was abandoned, and the AI in charge lashed out.
Milton Dyer was pulled into the game. He was just in hiding.
It will be a few more episodes before the rest of the ninja make it into Prime Empire. They made it in during the very next episode.
The motherboard needs to be inserted back into the arcade game for everyone to be able to return to Ninjago. A giant gateway also works.
It'll be a hot minute before the other ninja find Jay in Prime Empire. They were told where to find him in the very end of the next episode.
The League of Jay will be helpful down the line. They really just helped out that 1 time and that was it. We were cheated out of some more Jays all season.
Unagami is an old enemy with a new alias. Boy was I wrong there.
Lloyd will be the first ninja to lose all his lives. *crying about Cole and Kai*
The ninja are going to return to Scott's garage to find it trashed and him missing. He was alive and well, until Seven showed up.
Time flows different in Prime Empire than it does in Ninjago. I thought I had something, but it was a nothing.
Everyone will leave Prime Empire using the inter-dimensional arcade portals. Apparently, I never said anything about the gate in my main prediction posts (which I go off, not my opener "what's this ep gonna be about" post), sooooo... yeah.
Zane's not going to come out of this whole thing ok. He was able to shake it off faster than Taylor Swift.
Partially
Kai and Scott will lose their last life. Kai doing something stupid, and Scott in the race. They both did lose their last life, but Scott sacrificed himself for the ninja and Kai and Cole both lost their last life during the race.
We're going to lose someone during the race. We lost 2 someones.
The level to get the third Keytana will be a fighter game. It was a platform game + infinity maze + fighter game.
It's going to come down to Jay vs. Unagami. Yes, but mostly no.
Unconfirmed
Unagami paid attention to the ninja back on Ninjago. It wasn't ever confirmed how Unagami clocked the ninja as his enemies before they arrived in Prime Empire, but the Mechanic might have been the person informing him about the ninja. He might have informed Unagami of everything the ninja have done.
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tbcanary · 5 months
Text
arrowfam week day three: winter
--
"I don't know how you all do this," Mia mutters.
Connor huffs a laugh. His breath mists in front of him, a tiny white cloud that makes Mia shudder all over again. She nudges him with an elbow.
"Shut up."
"It's not my fault you opted for a bodysuit over something more sensible," Connor retorts, still smiling. "Even Dinah has a sweatsuit costume, somewhere. She's even used it for winter patrol before."
Mia rolls her eyes. "Well, fine. Tomorrow night, I'll be sure to wear that."
It doesn't do her much good right now. She didn't even know this was something she had to worry about at all; winters in Star City are usually so mild that this freak storm has brought pretty much everything to a halt, anyway. Criminals in the area must have some kind of rule for no crimes when the temperature hits below 55, right?
Roy and Ollie had walked out the door in their tank tops and tactical leggings -- Ollie calls them pants, but Mia knows athleisure when she sees it -- like it was no big deal. But Connor wears layers all the time, so while Mia's poor fingers are turning blue, he's all toasty and warm in his rejected-monk-core regalia.
Mia pouts. "Can we at least find a gas station for hot chocolate or something?"
"Mm," Connor leans gently on his bow and tilts his head, apparently mulling it over. "It has been pretty quiet. But Ollie did tell us to keep an eye out, you know."
"Are you telling me you've never played hooky before?" Mia presses. "Come on, it'll take five minutes."
"Why don't you go, and I'll stay up here?"
Mia rolls her eyes and gestures to herself. "Where, exactly, do you think I have a wallet in this getup?"
"Jeez." Connor rolls his eyes back at her, but there's a hint of a smile there, too. "No one ever told me having a little sister would be so irritating. Do I have to teach you how to tie your shoes, too?"
"Nope. No pockets, and definitely no shoelaces, dummy."
A stiff wind blows at them both, then, strong enough to send Mia stumbling. It's a little closer to the edge of their assigned rooftop than she'd like, and without Connor's hand immediately grabbing the hook of her elbow, she gets the feeling she might've been in for a rough night.
It probably makes her look pitiful. Sensing an advantage, Mia scrunches her face and turns to hide her nose in her free hand.
"A-choo!"
Connor sighs. "That is the worst fake sneeze I've ever heard."
"You're supposed to say 'bless you.'" And then, for good measure: "A-choo. Again."
Mia isn't sure if she actually looks that pitiful or if she's somehow managed to annoy a would-be saint, but either way, something about her whole schtick seems to have moved Connor. He slips his cape-scarf-robe thingy over his head and wraps it, nice and tight, around her own cape and shoulders.
The heavy fabric smells like Christmas and feels like a blanket; Mia tucks her cold nose into it immediately.
"Hot chocolate?" she prompts, the words muffled by her newfound outerwear.
Connor closes his eyes and lets out another lengthy sigh. "Sure. Come on, I know a place nearby. Do not tell Dad, though."
"Scout's honor!"
"There is absolutely no way you were a girl scout."
"Hey, fuck you. I know how to sell cookies."
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denaliwrites · 6 months
Text
I Got This Feeling On A Summer Day
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Cale Erendreich x Fem!Reader
Summary: (18+) The sight of you in a sundress drives Cale wild.
Soundtrack: Summer Days by Fall Out Boy
Requests: Open!
Warnings: It's Cale Erendreich and it's smut.
"It's so. Fucking. HOT!" you shout into your boyfriend's wide open house, poorly cooling your face with a cheap electric handheld fan like it'll do anything to help. Hell, you're sure even an expensive one wouldn't be able to break this unbearable heat.
"You sure are!" comes your boyfriend's returning shout from the kitchen. You're too hot to laugh, or even be mildly amused, really. But it's nice, you suppose, to know he thinks you're attractive even now, covered in sweat and dying of heat stroke.
"When are the repair people coming?" you despair.
"Tomorrow at noon."
That is not soon enough.
You're on the verge of disrobing yourself it's so hot, and you're not wearing much to begin with. Just a simple sundress -- and nothing underneath. Not even to be sexy, but because you're not sure you can handle the layers right now. Especially a bra. Seriously, fuck that.
Cale returns from the kitchen holding two glasses of lemonade, and as he approaches you sit up and throw your legs over the edge of the seat. "Thank you," you gasp dramatically, taking it and struggling not to chug it all down at once. "Oh, God, that's so cold. Thank you."
You notice he hasn't moved, and your eyes drift up to him. He's staring down at you, eyes zeroed in on your breasts. You realize that he must have a perfect view of them from his angle.
"Cale?" you prompt, trying to break him free from the spell your apparently incredible tits have on him. It doesn't work. "Cale!" you repeat, firmer.
"Yeah," he finally says, belatedly, startling as he looks at you. "Sorry, I... was imagining what I'm going to do to you in..." He pauses, setting his drink down and checking his watch for effect. "Roughly one minute and forty-two seconds."
You're stunned by his precision, and even more stunned when he takes your glass from your hand and sets it down next to his own. "On your knees," he commands. "On the sofa."
You obey immediately, if a little awkwardly, shifting so that you're sitting on your haunches on the couch.
"Wrong," he tells you, not unkindly. "Turn around. Hands on the back."
Oh, no. You feel a rush of pleasure course through your cunt as you realize his plans. Eagerly, you move into position, nails biting into the fabric of the sofa in anticipation. His hands run up your thighs, fingertips feather light against your skin. Those fingers brush the skirt of your dress up, up, up over your ass, until it's pooled into the small of your back.
"Look at that," he murmurs pleasantly, "you're already wet for me."
Indeed, your folds are slicked with arousal. Your fingers twitch against the sofa, only to still in a tight grip as you feel his press at your entrance.
He chuckles breathily at the delicious little sound that passes through your lips. "Good girl," he tells you, his fingers dipping in to slowly, teasingly rub at your nub. You find it hard to focus with his hand playing your clit like a master pianist, but you swear that you hear him undo his belt at some point between moans. And -- you're pretty sure that's the sound of his zipper -- and --
"Oh!" you cry out in glee as his cock buries itself inside your cunt and you're rocked forward. He hisses as you tighten around him, his hands curling in your sundress as he adjusts to your heat.
Maybe having sex right now isn't the smartest idea, you almost think, before his hips connect with your ass again and you lurch forward. There's a wall behind the sofa, and you have to shoot a hand out against it to keep yourself stable against his cock's onslaught.
"F-fuck, Cale--" you keen, walls clenching him desperately. "Can I..." you pant, feeling heat building between your thighs. "Can I touch myself?"
His chuckle behind you is breathless. "You are being such a good cocksleeve for me, aren't you? Go ahead."
You moan with relief, one hand staying firmly planted on the wall while the other breaches your folds, fingers dancing around your clit furiously, desperately.
It isn't long before you're reaching your peak, screaming out your orgasm while Cale keeps fucking you.
You're surprised -- and turned on -- when Cale's hand wraps around your throat and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his chest. "Now that you've had your fun," he growls into your ear, "I'm gonna have mine." He pulls out, leaving you cold and hollow without him.
His hold on your throat disappears, but is soon replaced by his hand winding tightly in your hair. You squeal as he yanks you up and throws you roughly into the wall. You barely manage to keep yourself from slamming into it, and then he's on you, his hands pinning your wrists above your head as his cock slides inside your aching tunnel.
"That's a good girl," he praises you, licking the back of your neck and leaving a stripe of saliva from the base of your skull to the shell of your ear. You moan, pussy squeezing desperately. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you? You're being so good, I may even let you cum again."
His words send a thrill down your spine, and you whimper needily as you look back at him. "Cale," you try, but he shushes you gently.
And then he batters into your cunt mercilessly, relishing in the sounds you make with each ruthless stroke of his cock. "Fuck," he groans, and you feel him twitching inside you as he nears his orgasm, "you're so fucking tight."
It only takes a few more thrusts for you both to fall over the edge. His comes first, and feeling his warmth spread inside you pushes you over again. As he comes down, his hands release you, and as you do the same you fall back into his chest with amorous murmurs of his name.
He catches your lips in a kiss that's impassioned and doubles as an effective way to (mostly) silence you, though you can't help the moan that spills forth from your lips into his.
"I love you," you gasp as he pulls away.
"I know.”
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kerokerogecko · 2 years
Text
Killer x Reader
warnings: none
notes: lil' high-school au with our dear boy. It's been a while since I posted a fic here so I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to leave comments and reblogs, I always appreciate and love to read them.
A Chance Encounter on a Rainy Day
Chapter One
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Few people enjoy days like today. The wind is howling and the sky is gray with the promise of rain. These types of days were perfect to stay at home and read or take a nap, it was the perfect weather to drink a hot cup of tea, or coffee and enjoy the calming sound of rain. You however were busy running a few errands for your aunt. 
You had moved in with her after your father gambled your house away at the end of your Junior year. She lived in a somewhat small town and owned a ramen shop near the center. Tomorrow was your first day at your new school and your aunt was planning to make a special dinner for good luck. 
Starting at a new school in your last year of high-school was kind of nerve wrecking so having her support meant a lot to you, unfortunately she got a bit tangled up at work and was going to arrive later than usual. So she texted you a whole shopping list of ingredients for you to buy so she could get started on dinner as soon as she got home. The convenience store where you typically bought groceries wasn't that far away from your small apartment and you could easily walk there. Plus, there was a drugstore beside it so you could buy some first-aid supplies, you weren't as good as your aunt in the kitchen and some accidents happened in the past so you decided to always have something ready, just in case.
The store wasn't that full, making getting the ingredients and stopping at the drugstore was faster than you expected it would be. However, as you made your way back you noticed how the sky started to darken, you took a small moment to thank yourself for remembering to bring your umbrella and hurriedly opened it before it started to rain.
You were a few minutes away from your apartment complex when you found yourself in a strange situation. Apparently, a fight had broken out near a bus stop close by and someone got hurt. You were now staring at a young man that was sitting on the floor of an alley. An ugly bruise was starting to show under his right eye and he had a few wounds across his nose and cheek. The man was in a rough shape. And against all the odds, you decided to help him. 
The young man captivated you. His long blond hair cascaded down his broad shoulders and his eyes were hidden by a messy curtain of bangs, his hairstyle reminded you of a few rock bands from the 70s, it was well kept, that you knew for sure.
You strategically placed the umbrella on your shoulder, freeing both of your hands. With the few supplies you got, you clean his wounds and bandage him up to the best of your abilities, while caring for the man you notice how some of his knuckles are bruised, it seems like he landed a few punches on his opponent. You didn’t really know how to help with those so the best you could do right now is to clean them and awkwardly place some band-aids, it's the intention that counts right?
Satisfied with your work, you stepped back from the stranger, eager to get home, away from the rain. But before you could take your first step and resume your short walk, another series of thoughts entered your mind, this person was injured and it'll probably be a pain in the ass to walk home, he'll be drenched and who knows how far is his house? After that thought, the image of an abandoned puppy popped in your head, and that's when you knew you were doomed. With a tired sigh, you placed your umbrella on top of the injured man and started to hurry back home, trying your best to keep your groceries dry.
"Where were you?! What happened to you?! I thought you brought your umbrella with you!" Your aunt warmly greeted you as soon as you got home. It seems like the trip to the grocery store took longer than expected.
After you explained what happened your aunt said: "Oh dear, please don't be so reckless next time! And go take a shower while I get dinner started. You're gonna get sick!!!" And sent you off.
You left the groceries in the kitchen and hurried to the bathroom to take a comforting warm shower before you happily enjoyed dinner with your aunt and got ready to face the next day.
You woke up early, ate breakfast and got ready for school, your aunt usually woke up later in the morning so you left a note on the fridge door wishing her a good morning and a good day at work. A small habit you two developed after living together for a few weeks.
As you left your apartment complex you looked up at the gray sky and started to walk to school, hurrying to not get caught in the rain.
The school hallways were full, people were talking to their friends and getting ready for class, everyone seemed to know everyone and you felt a bit lonely looking at all the little friend groups talking in the hallway. Reaching your class you made your way to your designated seat, next to the seat beside the window, to be precise, right on the back of the class. As the time passed, the seats in your classroom were occupied, except for the one next to you. The class started soon enough and the teacher awkwardly called you to the front so you could introduce yourself to the class, but before you could do so, the door in the back of the class opened and a tall figure entered the classroom with a few whispered apologies as he rushed to his seat, the one conveniently beside yours. 
As strange as it may sound, you swore you recognized him. His uniform was somewhat well kept and his long blond hair was on a low ponytail, his messy bangs and the face mask he was using did a good job hiding his face but you could still see the hint of blue eyes staring back at you.
What were the ods? 
"I'm Y/N L/N, it's nice to meet you."
You politely introduce yourself before going back to your seat, feeling the tall student's gaze on you the whole time. You swore you saw him stiffening as you moved to sit next to him.
Lunch break arrived sooner than you expected and a lot of your new classmates came to introduce themselves and talk to you. Everyone was surprisingly kind, making you less nervous to talk and participate in classes, something you weren't used to.
You were chatting with your new classmates when the blonde sitting next to you got up and left, startling a few students and slightly changing the mood around you. The previous happy chatter changed to hushed gossip, and you heard everything.
Killer-kun (is that really his name?) Apparently is part of a young gang of thugs that hangs out behind the school. Their so- called "leader", Eustass Kid ,is a sophomore that will fight anyone who looks at him weird and bla bla bla.
"I'm serious Y/N! They are all bad news. A friend of mine said someone once saw Kid getting into a fight with three other guys and WON!" One classmate said, "Is that so?" You answered. Rumors like this are often baseless, but who knows, it's a small town, maybe Kid was a 30 year old yakuza disguised as a 15 year old, god this is getting ridiculous. She kept on with the nonsense until Killer came back and shot her a glare that made her shrink and go back to her seat. 
Your relief was, unfortunately, momentary because, for the rest of the day, you could feel the same gaze on you. How fortunate.
As the end of the day approached you started to notice heavy clouds in the sky, and to your dismay, before the class ended, it started to rain.
You were contemplating the weather and weighing your options, waiting for the rain to stop or rushing home regardless. You decided risking slipping in the rain wasn't worth it so you waited near the lockers for the rain to stop. You rested your back against a wall and pulled out your phone to send your aunt a quick message when a huge figure stood in front of you.
Killer's face was unreadable as he stared down at you, you could clearly see now why people portrayed him as the right hand man of the young delinquent  but you weren't scared, because despite his stoic expression, his ears were red. Both of you stood there for a while looking at each other, until Killer broke the silence. "Y/N… right?" His voice was low and you could hear a certain gentleness in it, as if he thought you would run away if he spoke too loud. "Y-Yes." You answered him, curiosity and uncertainty in your voice. You watched as he hesitated a bit before retrieving a small umbrella from his bag.
"Thanks for… lending me this" He carefully handed you your 'borrowed'' umbrella and looked to the side, averting your curious gaze. 
"It was no problem." you said with a genuine tone, something that seemed to catch your tall classmate off guard, you could see a surprised look in his eyes for a few seconds before he cleaned his throat and rushed to head out after whispering a shy "See ya".
As you watched him leave you noticed him going through the same options you did earlier, waiting for the rain to stop or… running home.
He raised his backpack above his head and was getting ready for the run, when your sweet voice threw his train of thought off the rails.
"Killer-kun?..." He froze but turned to look at you anyway. "... Is it okay if we walked home together?" 
He took a while to answer you, the question was still floating around his head and you started to fear he would reject your offer, but it was exactly in that moment that he answered "Sure."
Thanks to: @p0chy @fireflykaizoku @holykillercake @thegrandlinesimp @the-witch-of-one-piece @starrybrujita @simpforroses @tsunderedoctor @shipshinablog @luff-mugis @lucciluvr @eustassslut @eustasssimp
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guardevoir · 10 months
Text
Tour de Fleece update #1 (day 1)
First of all, not technically TdF, but I did get the sparkle merino plied yesterday after all because apparently spinning is more fun than video games.
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Sorry for the cryptid photo, my camera has a personal vendetta against this fiber. Making 4-ply yarn is surprisingly fun and I've yet to screw it up - and I'm pretty pleased with this one too (even if it came out much thinner than I would've expected. Ah well, I can always double it up when crocheting). Will probably full this tomorrow, and then it's onto crocheting. Might have to spin up some more though, this seems a bit on the low end even for a headband.
Then, Wheel Update:
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I. Adore. This fiber. If I hadn't bought the last braid, I would be ordering more right now. Last time I spun Shetland I was bored and not overly amazed, but this? Hot damn. First of all, I love the fiber prep - it's not quite as thoroughly combed as something commercially dyed, but the fiber prep is grippy without being felted and basically spins itself. Also, the combination of Shetland and silk is amazing. Sure, silk and merino would have been softer probably, but this one has definition and character and I love it. I might see if I can get a cowl out of the finished yarn or something.
Spindle Update:
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Well, it's Coburg Fox. You could throw it against the wall and accidentally end up with yarn, so it's simultaneously one of my most and least favorite fibers, and those unruly guard hairs don't help. The colors are nice, though! Not sure if the contrast is enough to make for a good fractal spin, but it'll be pretty for sure.
The main challenge with both projects so far is spinning thick enough to end up with a usable 2-ply yarn that actually shows off colors while actually keeping things consistent - but it's the good kind of challenge! I can spin consistently thin, but consistently medium-weight is something I have much less practice at but really want to master.
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feverinfeveroutfic · 5 months
Text
hanukkahbingo 2023
Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, chapter three: “Without a Paddle” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: latkes (u1), dreidel (h1), miracle (h1), "a great miracle happened there" (u5), debate (h5) Rating: Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x @aimmyarrowshigh
Candles surrounded me and Christine as we took our seats at the table next to Wendy and her grandparents; things were so cold in that house that they let the bags of groceries rest on the kitchen floor behind them, including the bag with the frozen food. I had a hunch that things were going to be rather awkward, given the fact that I was still wearing my leather pants and the fact that Christine had just touched me and kissed me as if it was all going out of style. My face was still warm from her kisses, and because we had eaten at a restaurant before then, there was no way I could eat even more. But we hung out there at the kitchen table as her grandparents ate their dinner so they wouldn't be alone in the dark with all of this warm food. They had some of the pie as well as a whole roasted chicken that stayed fresh and warm in spite of the cold; they did in fact have a hot plate that worked on batteries, and thus, they were able to have mashed potatoes as well. I was eager to have some for the next day, given this blizzard was going to be with us for a while.
I knew it wasn't latkes, but I wasn't going to turn down warmed mashed potatoes and chicken for nothing, however. They also offered me and Wendy some freshly pressed cider, and Christine some sparkling cider given she wasn't old enough to drink yet.
Every so often, through the cold candlelight, she flashed a glimpse over at me as she took a sip of her sparkling cider. Even in the darkness, I could see the look in her eyes. She wanted another taste of the Skolnick.
“He's too old for you, honey,” her grandmother said with a straight face.
“That's what I told her!” Wendy declared. “Teenagers, Mom. You know how we were back then.”
“Oh, of course! We had our feelings then, and some things just never change.”
I took a sip of the fresh cider, which they had also bought from down in Carson City: apparently, it had been freshly squeezed in the grocery store, so it still had some small pieces of apple skin and some pulp inside. I liked a little pulp but the flavor knocked me right between the eyes once I took a sip; it was the kind of cider that came straight out from an orchard, too, so I had that rich flavor of the apples as well as a little hint of alcohol in there as well.
In fact, it came to me so strongly that I nearly choked once I swallowed it.
“Are you alright, son?” her grandfather asked me. “Is that cider too strong for you?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” I assured him with a quick shake of my head. “In fact, I would say that this cider is just right, actually.”
“How's the chicken, Grandpa?” Christine quipped right then.
“Oh, it's delicious. It'll be even better come the morning.”
“This kind of reminds me of all of the warm, humble food we eat at Hanukkah,” I noted. “I reckon the mashed potatoes are perfect, too.”
“We're sorry it's not latkes,” her grandmother told me with a shake of her head.
“Oh, no, it's okay! My family's not traditional with our Jewishness so... there are a lot of things that we don't do. We're a lot more easygoing with it all, but we still are who we are, though. We could make latkes tomorrow, though. Nice little taste of the diaspora once daybreak comes about.” I took another sip of cider and I could feel my belly starting to swell up from all the decadent food I had eaten. It was after Thanksgiving and nearly Hanukkah: I deserved an indulgence every now and again, even without my parents there with me.
“How do you make latkes?” Christine asked me.
“It's not hard at all,” I told her. “Have you ever had potato pancakes?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“They're a lot like that, except they also have some onion, an egg, and matzo meal in them. Or—” I turned my attention to her grandmother. “—baking powder if Bubbie doesn't have matzo meal in the house.” And she smiled as she took another bite of potatoes. “They don't sound like much but a couple of them fill me right up without even a second thought. We usually eat 'em with sour cream and applesauce, which always puts me to sleep after the fact.”
“When is Hanukkah, by the way?” her grandfather asked me.
“First night's on Monday when the sun goes down,” I replied. “I was hoping to get home to be with my parents because I missed Thanksgiving and all. I also don't have a lot of money, either. It was either get something to eat and be left out in the cold, or have a hotel room and nothing to eat.”
“So, it's a good thing that my daughter and granddaughter scooped you up out of the cold, eh?” He showed me a smile.
“Oh, absolutely! I'm happy as a clam, as it were. Had a nice big sandwich with some French fries and a cup of coffee.” I turned my attention over to Christine, who, for a brief moment, licked her lips at the sight of me. If only I could see inside of that mind of hers.
“We only have two guest rooms,” her grandmother joined in. “I just wonder where you're going to sleep.”
“I'll take the couch,” I offered.
“Oh, no, Alex, I'll take the couch,” Wendy promised me right then.
“No, no, no, Wendy, this is your parents' house, you should take a nice comfy bed. Besides, I've slept on plenty of couches before in my twenty six years, it's not that bad in my eyes.”
“It's not really all that comfortable, though,” she pointed. “It's one of those sofa beds.”
“I've slept on a few of those before,” I said. “As long as there's no bar right in my back, I'll do it.”
“Alex, you're our guest,” Wendy insisted. “I'll take the sofa bed, you take the guest room. It's only fair.”
I sighed through my nose and lowered my gaze to the glass of cider on my lap.
“Okay, I'll take it,” I said in a low voice, to which Christine giggled at me.
“He's a good boy,” I heard her grandmother say to Wendy right then.
“It wouldn't be Hanukkah without a little bit of witty bickering,” I declared as I downed another swig of cider, a much heartier drink that time around and to the point it nearly made me cough. But I got it down, and I ran my fingers through my hair and I stood to my feet, and I offered to take their empty plates over to the sink. Wendy was right: I was a guest in the house, and thus, I should act like one.
“What exactly do you do, son?” he asked me in a low voice as he stood up before me.
“I'm a musician,” I said as I held his plate in one hand. “I brought my guitar with me and everything. Starting from when I was about eleven years old to about three years ago, I played strictly rock n' roll and heavy metal. But now I've branched out into the jazz world.”
“You sound like a very diligent fellow,” he remarked, to which I shrugged my shoulders.
“It's just... what I do,” I told him. “My parents raised me to be focused on what I do. They were sort... begrudging, I'd say, about it. About towards my path to music, but they've actually been very supportive of me nonetheless, and especially the case when I moved over into jazz territory.” He set a hand on my shoulder out of comfort.
“Good job, young man,” he told me, and the amber candlelight danced over the lines in his face, especially the ones that lined his smile. I then took Christine's grandmother's plate to the sink, and I doubled back to Christine herself with the bottle of sparkling cider to find out if she wanted some more in her little glass cup.
“Unless you want a little burp-off in the next room,” she teased me.
“And it wouldn't be Hanukkah without some tomfoolery, either,” I added as I put the cork back into the mouth of the bottle.
“Tomfoolery, is that what you said?” her grandmother chuckled.
“Oh, yeah. My brother and I would always play and joke around right before dinner time or before we got the Hanukkah gelt on each night. We'd joke about each other's feet and whatnot. You know, typical brother stuff. Speaking of which, mind me intruding, but did you happen to get some chocolate while you were down in Carson City?”
“As a matter of fact, we did!” her grandfather proclaimed, and his face lit up at the sound of that. “And son, I promise you are not intruding. If you want something to eat, go ahead and get something to eat. You're a guest, but you're good company, though.”
I then offered to put away their groceries for them, especially the stuff that needed to go in the fridge and the freezer. While I was putting away a gallon of milk and some cream cheese, I caught a whiff of something at the corner of the bag, something pungent and sharp, and I had a hunch as to what it was as well.
“Phew, something in here stinks,” I told them.
“It's probably the cheese,” her grandmother said. “It's a wedge of blue cheese—once the power returns, I'll make us some cheese and bacon rolls. I will admit that it does in fact stink, but it's not—it's not that bad, though.”
“Bet it's not as bad as Alex's stinky feet, though, Grandma,” Christine cracked.
“Hey, my feet don't stink that bad!” I said, and I couldn't help but chuckle at that. It reminded me so much of my brother and me that I cursed myself for not calling him when I called my mom back at the airport.
Once I had put everything cold away, the bunch of us sat down at the table for a card game and a round of Monopoly before bed. It wasn't a gathering on the first night of Hanukkah where we were thankful to not have our throats slit over the course of the year, but at least I took it all to heart and I stayed snuggled down between Christine and her grandparents; her grandmother offered to give me a blanket given it was that cold in the kitchen, but I promised her I was feeling alright.
“I will take it to bed with me, though,” I assured her with a little smile. “I like cuddling down in bed, especially on a night like this.”
“And especially on a night when you're left up the creek without a paddle, either, I would assume,” she added.
“Oh, absolutely.”
I had completely lost track of time, but within time I was feeling ready for bed. I could hardly keep my eyes open once I had bought three houses and a hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue over to Christine for two thousand big ones.
“I can't hardly do math right now,” I confessed to her with a yawn.
“I can't, either,” she said. “But that's all you got, two thousand?”
“Yeah.”
“Ooh, yeah, it's almost midnight,” Wendy told us. “Let's pick up again in the morning, and hopefully the snow will have stopped by then.”
But it didn't sound like it was going to slow up any time soon, however: if anything, by the sound of the howling winds outside as well as the pelting of the snow on the roof and the side of the house, it sounded as though it had just begun. Nevertheless, Christine showed me the second guest bedroom, a cozy little room with one of those beds that tucked up against a wall and the corner like that of a couch with a small desk and a spindly little chair, the back of which I draped my coat over.
“No idea why there's no closet in here,” she confessed to me. “But sometimes when it's Mom and me, she likes to have this room so I can have the one with the closet.”
“Kind of makes you wonder why your grandfather won't put one in,” I told her as I rubbed my hands together and pried my shoes off without using my hands.
“I remember him talking about it once,” she said. “But that was one time, though, and it was quite a while ago. It was also said in passing, so I don't really remember if he really said it or if I was just dreaming it.”
“I've heard of things like that,” I told her. “Kind of makes you wonder why your brain won't latch onto the whole thing because you never know what might be important down the line.”
“I don't really know, to be honest,” she absently replied, complete with a shake of her head. “It's like... a feeling that I want to remember but I don't really know how to access it again.”
I cocked my head to the side at the sound of that. Strange that a teenage kid would say that, especially after I had been told I was precocious as a teenage boy not too long ago. But there was something else there, something that lingered over her, and it wasn't the shadow from the darkness of the room left behind from her upright flashlight: it wasn't a literal shadow that swept over the crown of her head, but something else. I gazed into her eyes, hidden away with darkness, and yet I could see something in there.
“What?” she asked me.
“Something still haunts you,” I pointed out, and I waved a hand before my chest. “I can feel it, plus it bothers you, too. There's something in your bones, and you're afraid to say it aloud.”
“Alex, it's traumatic,” she said to me. “I'm also afraid of fully talking about it right now when there's no electricity at the moment. You know... Mom can overhear me. Sound travels in this house like you wouldn't believe. You think you have a moment of privacy but the walls are paper thin regardless of what you do.”
I was taken aback by that. I wondered what exactly she harbored away inside of herself such that Wendy couldn't even hear about it. There had to be a way: I glanced behind me to the side of the bed closest to the face of the wall. I lay down on the bed behind her with my back to the wall so we could be face to face with each other. She glanced back at me: through the dim light, I could see the bewildered look upon her face.
“What're you doing?” she demanded in a hushed voice.
“Come here,” I coaxed her in a soft whisper, softened even more by the pillow under my head and neck. She raised an eyebrow at me, much to my own confusion. “You kissed me, rubbed up against my leg, and practically gave me a handjob, I think you can lay down with me. Close the door, too.”
Christine then reached over and shut the door most of the way save for a small crack between it and the edge of the frame itself. She lay down right next to me so I could see the shape of her body against the pale light of the halogen flashlight, but the back of her head faced me instead.
“Face me, though,” I insisted, and I couldn't help but chuckle at that. She rolled over onto her other side so her face was right up by mine. The sight of her there before me brought some butterflies to the stomach as a side dish. I licked my lips as she rested her hands right between us: I thought back to that one time where my ex and I had a moment alone together, and I had thought about asking her to bed because I could feel something in between the two of us. But we never did head off anywhere with that feeling, however.
She always left me unfulfilled and I had no one to blame for it other than myself. But Christine came along like a little spider and injected her venom into me to uncover those hoary old feelings again, and there I was, face to face with her.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay? Okay what?”
“Tell me,” I begged to her. “Tell me everything.”
She swallowed. “I don't think I'm ready to talk about it with a complete stranger, though,” she confessed.
“Like I said, you've touched my body,” I assured her. “You've touched my body in this time period in which I feel so—so—ugly and undesirable. You came onto me and flirted with me. You expressed yourself towards me. You have shown me that I can be a safe place for you. Now... take your time. There's no rush to tell me. Whatever it is, I think I can face it as you have faced it yourself.”
She lowered her gaze to my body, and through the darkness and the shadows, I could make out the little smile on her face.
“Okay,” she finally whispered.
“Okay?” I raised my eyebrows at her. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch her, but I also had my worries. She had already touched me, but I wondered about the power of my own hand upon her. Silence fell over us like a blanket, as did a deep chill from the immense snow and frigid winds outside. Her smile disappeared as she closed her eyes. She resembled one of those little porcelain dolls that opened their eyes once they were perched into an upright position, even with the short little mop of red hair upon her head.
She then opened her eyes and locked them onto my own.
“I almost died,” she whispered back to me, to which I raised my eyebrows at her.
“You almost died?” I echoed her. The silence over us seemed to be heavier than it was a moment before. “How and also... may I ask when?”
“Two years ago, actually,” she replied; and it made a lot more sense as to why she insisted on not saying it aloud, and I was glad that I had suggested being face to face with one another. “It was right before I dyed my hair. I like to tell myself that I nearly died so I dyed my hair to remind myself of that. I was out here in Reno with my grandparents, and I was riding my bike up the street and a tree branch came down all of a sudden.” I gasped at that. “It landed on me, but luckily I was wearing my helmet, otherwise I don't think I would be here right now. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital with a bandage on my head. Grandma told me she noticed I hadn't come home yet so she went out looking for me and she saw the neighbors helping me off the street. She got my grandpa and they drove to the hospital with them. I was out cold for two days. The nurse told me I was lucky to be alive because my heart actually stopped for a full five minutes. I was pronounced clinically dead for five minutes and then I came back.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “What was it like?”
“You know, it's funny, I remember seeing this big bright light,” she recalled. “A bright light plus my ex's voice. I remember him telling me to come back home. And that's what I did.”
“You came back home,” I said.
“I came back home. And I decided to rid of the old me and bring forth a bit of polish on my part.”
“Wow. That's—that's incredible.” I could scarcely speak at that. “That almost feels like a miracle of sorts.”
“It kind of was a miracle,” she followed along with a nod of her head. “Grandpa tells me that we're Vikings and being tough and tenacious is in our blood. It's even more interesting when I say that they took a scan of me and they found no brain injuries on my part. There was the worry that I could have a stroke at some point because of it, but... it hasn't happened to me. And moreover, they never told my parents, either. They didn't want them to worry about me because they have plenty to worry about as is.” She shrugged her shoulders. “A tree fell on me and I survived.”
“I am... stunned,” I confessed to her with a shake of my head. “I am absolutely stunned, Christine. So the tree just collapsed?”
“Pretty much. According to my grandpa, it was an old tree that had broken apart in a few windstorms that winter. I had seen the branch hanging pretty low over the sidewalk prior to then but I assured myself that it was still intact. I was riding past and the first part of it fell off, and the next thing I knew, the whole thing was coming down on me. I didn't have enough time to whip back, either. The whole thing pretty much just rained down on me.”
She sat up next to me, and she reached for the flashlight on the nightstand. She clicked it on as she shifted around on the edge of the bed; I sat up behind her to check it out for myself. She lifted up the tail of her hair and shone the light down to show me a little scar about the size of a pea pod on the back of her neck.
“Oh, yeah, I see that,” I remarked; I ran my fingers over the surface of her skin to better feel the scar tissue there. “And this is what's left behind from it?” I asked her.
“Yes, and—” She gazed back at me with the flashlight pointed up to the ceiling. “—I had compressed two vertebrae in there, but the doctors were worried that I had broken my neck as well as my spinal cord from it because... you know. A two thousand pound tree fell on me. So, they did an emergency surgery to reattach the vertebrae. The cord was fine, hence why I was able to survive it, but... still. It just about broke my neck.”
“And your mom hasn't even seen the scar?” To which she shook her head.
“Like I said, she doesn't know anything about it, and if I'm honest, I'm a little bit afraid to tell her as well,” she confessed to me in a low voice. I cocked my head to the side for a better look into her eyes, as dark as the earth underneath the snow pack out there.
“What?” she asked me. “What're you looking at?”
“What's your last name, by the way?” I asked her.
“Peck.” She paused. “Why?”
I directed my gaze over to the window on the other side of the room. Careful not to do anything to upset the bed and make the floor boards squeak underneath us, I climbed off the bed and ambled across the carpet for a look out through the curtains. Darkness stayed firmly ensconsed over the neighborhood, but that didn't so much as damper my curiosity. I turned my attention back to her and the flashlight that shone up onto the ceiling overhead.
“So, tell me—where did the tree fall on you?” I asked her.
“Just right up the street here.” She gestured out the window, and I knew I was going to have to take a look once the weather lifted up again. “We'll be able to see it once we have some light outside—it was this big, hundred year old cottonwood tree and they had to cut the rest of it down and burn it all because of me. It's just a little stump about the width of the chair over here.”
I returned my attention to the blackness out there, and I closed my eyes. I was not a man of prayer by any means at all, but hearing her story and realizing what she had gone through then, and I could only wonder what else she had experienced in the last two years. I was a little afraid to find out, and as far as I knew, I had all night as well as the morning hours to crack the proverbial code that surrounded her.
“Nes gadol hayah sham,” I said in a near whisper.
“Come again?” she asked me, and I turned to her, and I could hardly contain my excitement as well.
“A great miracle happened there,” I breathed out.
“A great miracle?”
“Yeah. Your last name does come out of Britain but it's also somewhat of a Jewish last name, like I've heard it in junction with the Jewish world every so often. During Hanukkah, you know, we have the dreidel. On each side, you have Hebrew letters, and they spell out an acronym for the phrase nes gadol hayah sham. Or, rather: 'a great miracle happened there.' It actually refers to the Maccabees and their story of survival, but—” I clasped my hands onto her shoulders. “A great miracle happened up the street here. You survived something that would have killed you. You found the way out of the light and back down onto the earth where you should be right now.”
“That's beautiful,” she quipped. “Beautiful and... a little crazy, I might add?” I chuckled at that, but I was being serious. I ran my fingers through my hair, and I sauntered my way back to the bed to join her once again.
“So, that's all there is to it?” I asked her.
“Oh, no, there's plenty more to my story,” she assured me as she stood up before me. “But... I don't really know if you have the stomach for it, though.”
“I do, I do,” I assured her, and I fetched up a yawn right then. Or maybe it would have to wait until the morning. I had lay down on the bed next to her, and now I was ready to go to sleep.
“Go to bed, baby,” she encouraged me.
“Go to bed, baby, is that what you said?” I asked her, and she leaned into the side of my neck for a kiss. I curled my toes into the carpet at the feeling of her smooth skin against my own, and I knew the best way to deal with it all was to go to bed. She gently patted the side of my face.
“When you and I find another moment alone, we'll have another little chat,” she vowed to me. “In the meantime, I have to go to bed now.”
Before I could give her a little kiss good night, she gave me another one and ducked out of the guest room with nothing more than the flashlight at the helm. She left the door slightly ajar so I could feel the rush of the cold from the hallway. No way I was going to sleep like that, however; I closed it all the way, and then I took off my shirt, followed by my pants. I put on my pajama bottoms and climbed back into that bed: I kept the flashlight on the nightstand all the while. Silence blanketed the house, silence except for the winds.
I thought about the camera in the other guest bedroom and I thought about all the jokes she had made towards me. All the little kisses. The way that she rubbed up against me while I wore leather pants.
She may have been seventeen but she tapped into me as if she had been so intimate with me all this time. I reached up and clicked off the flashlight so the room fell completely dark.
I couldn't help myself. I couldn't resist the feeling.
And I wrapped my fingers around it and gave it a little tug.
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elegyofthemoon · 2 months
Text
logging o7
a friend and i made plans to play genshin on friday so thatll be fun!! she wanted some help with grinding so i was happy to pick up the game again to help alskfjh originally we were gonna play today which made me panic because "oh god i havent touched this game in a hot minute can it still run???" turns out it can
but while doing that, i realized where i left off was me playing through thoma's hangout for the 1000000th time FOR HIS BIRTHDAY LMAO so i really really havent touched it since and Man. i forgot how much i like thoma.... so that made me happy ALSO HIS VOICE ACTOR... its so weird because just the other day i couldve sworn thats his voice actor who plays jeremiah in lads... so its a funny coincidence that i went back to listening to thoma. his voice acting is just got a certain style to it thats very unique to him. and the way he was so excited to play thoma originally? it makes listening to the voice acting all the sweeter - but enough about me rambling about voice acting again LAKSDJFAH
OH YEAH and making progress a bit in um. the story where i left off. I was doing miko's character story and I think I only have one little bit left and then I think my original plan was to do Kazuha's?? idk aslkdjfha it just makes me happy that i made some progress there asdkljfaslkh it was a Struggle to cont. (internally fighting self basically)
I FINALLY!!!!! AM MAKING PROGRESS!!!! ON THIS STUPID WIP!!!!!! IVE BEEN WORKING ON !!!!! FOR APPARENTLY THE WHOLE !!!!! MONTH!!!!!!!!! I've been dancing around it for a while because I just hated how it was coming out BUT pushing myself to work on it, I'm finally getting things clicking and >:)
Getting news that the one thing that would make me go to work tomorrow got cancelled? 🥳woo! freedom!
I completed going through a Child's Dream in HSR, which was fun!! But now the other areas are kinda. Huge. So it'll be a bit overwhelming to do those BUT it was cool to see the little bits and pieces of memory in there ; v ; it just makes me more sad though for Misha :( ALSO I DIDNT REALIZE YOU CAN PICK UP THE PHOTO OF TRAILBLAZER AND FIREFLY IN THE DREAMSCAPE REVERIE that made me so sad cuz I was just passing through there to find something but :( oh my god (ik this is a happy log i am happy i decided to drop by there again but also what the hell 😭
I'm probably going to use the rest of the night to try and finish up this wip hopefully Might stay up a bit more to go explore/read some stuff in star rail but we shall see :)
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selinamehhh · 1 year
Text
(have a little hawai'i au)
"I knew befriending you would eventually pay off."
"Like you would ever plan this far."
"Oh, you'd be surprised. I've been playing the long con."
Robin rolls her eyes, or at least Steve thinks she does. He can't really see because she's wearing her big sunglasses. The ones that cover at least half of her face. Robin says it's to keep the freckles at bay but Steve knows she likes how they make her look like a Broadway diva.
"Well, if that's the case, then I'll take you off the meal plan and ask for a refund."
Steve feigns shock, a move he's learned from Munson.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, dingus. In fact, if you want to reinstate my good graces go get me a --, a --, something fruity."
"And I get to stay on the meal plan?"
"You have my word."
Steve rises up from his lounger and looks at the girl lying next to him. They've scored a nice set of loungers under an umbrella, near to the pool but not so close that they're under risk of getting sprayed at by all the kids playing in it. Tomorrow morning they're going to try to get to the adults only area, even if Steve has to wake up at sunrise to score a spot.
"Something fruity coming right up," Steve agrees and gets up.
He's immediately reminded of the sun and how merciless it is, as the skin around his shoulders starts feeling tight and hot to the touch. Robin had lathered him with sunscreen when they first got to the pool, but that was hours ago and Steve had gone swimming since. Oh well. It'll turn into a tan in no time.
He makes his way to the pool bar, tucked under an awning. It's tiki themed because of course it is, how else would the tourists staying here know that they are in Hawai'i.
Steve greets the bartender like an old friend. During the past four days he's been here often enough to get familiar with him.
"Rum and coke?" Makani asks and Steve nods. It's kind of embarrassing that the guy knows his order already, but he's on a holiday so fuck it.
"What about the missus?"
It's a game he and Robin are playing. They're pretending to be newlyweds because a) it's kind of funny and b) you get so many accommodations everywhere. It's no extra effort on their part either, they get mistaken as a couple everywhere they go.
Makani here obviously knows that it's all fake, but he's decided to play along. He thinks it's hilarious, makes him feel like a spy apparently. And who's Steve to begrudge the man of one of the few things that help him make it through his shift.
"She wants something fruity. And--"
"Expensive," Makani winks and gets to work.
The expensive part is also something Makani finds hilarious. You see, the thing is, that he and Robin are on this vacation because of Robin and her insane work ethic. She won the hire of the year at her new company, or at least something along those lines, and that awarded her and a plus one a two-week holiday in O'ahu in one of the company hotels, meal plan and drinks included. So they have made it their mission to eat and drink the most expensive shit on the menus, just to bleed the company dry. Robin hates his boss and is thinking of leaving, so she might as well go all out while she still can.
As Steve's waiting for their drinks he sees a little brochure on the table, left there by some former customer. He grabs it and shifts his glasses up to get an unobstructed view.
It's a brochure listing down all the activities at the resort. Some of them Steve's already seen, like the boat trips they keep advertising in the lobby as well as the scuba diving courses. The list here, however, is a bit more comprehensive and offers little blurbs of different kind of yogas, as well as aerobics classes, swimming lessons, excursions, surfing, reiki, you name it.
"There you go," Makani says and puts their drink on the bar. There's a little green umbrella in Robin's drink. She's going to love it.
"Oh, if you're thinking of doing some activities--," Makani says, noticing the brochure Steve's holding. "A friend of mine's doing both the yoga classes and some of the surfing. He's a sound guy. William."
"Oh, okay, yeah. Thanks. I'll check it out," Steve smiles and takes the drinks.
Steve thanks the man, hands him a tip and then goes back to their loungers, brochure shoved into the pocket of his swimming shorts.
Robin reaches for her drink and giggles in delight when she sees the little umbrella. She picks it off right away, and pins it in her hair.
"How do I look?"
"Tropical."
Steve watches Robin take a sip of her garishly orange drink. She makes a pleased little hum, and takes another sip. That's when Steve flings the folded up brochure at her, timing it perfectly and making her spill all over her swimsuit.
"Steve!" Robin sputters as Steve sits down on his lounger, stretching his legs in front of him. The shadow's are starting to grow longer, they need to shuffle the umbrella soon. Robin grabs the brochure, now sticky and glazed in orange syrup, pages sticking together.
"What's this?" she asks, while she's patting herself dry with the white hotel towel. The orange keeps bleeding around.
"Stuff to do. I feel like we could do something between all the lounging."
"You're such a fucking jock," Robin snorts, but takes a look at the offering.
"Makani said he has a friend who teaches yoga and surfing. That could be cool."
"You? Yoga?"
"Yeah, maybe not that, but the surfing for sure," Steve shrugs. Yoga's the one with the stretching and humming and stuff, right? So maybe that's not really up his alley. But surfing? That has always sounded so cool so why not give it a try when they're this close to a good beach.
He says as much to Robin, who just nods along.
"I want to try yoga though," Robin offers.
"Okay, you do yoga and I go surfing."
They share a look.
As if.
They burst laughing.
They spend the rest of the afternoon by the pool. It's too late to sign up for the day's classes anyway, and they're well on their way to tipsy. That can't be good when you want to balance on a piece of board.
Later, on their way back to their room, they stop by the front desk and sign up for surfing. Steve makes sure that their particular class is helmed by William, as vouched by Makani. The concierge smiles and assures that to be the case, complimenting them on their choice.
Steve feels good, eager to get moving after staying more or less stationary for the better part of the week.
It's not until he's standing there, tepid ocean water bracing his calves, that he comes to regret his decision. He's always had a good hand-eye coordination but balance is a different matter. He's going to make a fool of himself.
"Aloha. You here for surfing?"
It's weird how some things can bury themselves so deep into your subconsciousness that they seem to fade from view. Steve has not thought about that voice for years, yet hearing it now, with the gently lapping waves as a backing track--
"Billy?" he asks, feeling suddenly like he's breathing in heavy metals.
"Holy shit, Harrington."
The metals in the air drop all the way down to his feet, rooting him down there, in the shallow water. Steve wouldn't be able to move even if he wanted to.
Robin, who's been wading further into the ocean, makes a surprised sound. "William!"
Billy looks at her, eyebrows scrunched together.
"You're William," she sounds excited. She makes her way closer to the shore, splashing everywhere as he goes, including on Steve. "Makani told us there'd be a william, oh my god."
"Makani sent you?" Billy asks, sounding suspicious.
"Yeah," Steve sounds like he's been chewing gravel, throat all scratched up. "We were looking for stuff to do."
"Uhhuh," Billy nods, the air of suspicion not clearing up the slightest.
There's a silence. Or as silent as it can get on a resort beach around midday.
The fact that Billy's there feels like some sort foregone conclusion. Like Steve should've expected it, and he's an idiot for not doing so. Naturally he'd be in O'ahu, teaching surfing, what else was the guy to do.
He's always looked the part, at least. Maybe now even more so, with his sun bleached curls dropping past his shoulders and a ridiculous tan. Unlike back in Hawkins, he's also gained a little more bulk, something Steve's a little jealous of right away. Clearly the man's thriving in a way he'd never done under the Indiana sky.
Steve swallows past the gravel, feeling parched.
"So, surfing?" he asks.
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crinkled-emotions · 2 years
Note
35, 63 and 72 for my poor boy Roo please. Love the Daderick vibes you write
Poor Rooster... this is definitely not my doing 👀😂
Also! I'm considering posting these on my ao3- CallMeG . It'll be titled something basic bitch like "tumblr requests" etc etc... then I'll update it every time we do something like this! Is anyone down for next weekend? If you find a prompt list that looks good please send it through!
I nearly introduced an oc I’ve been working on for the last three months, but I got the idea you wanted Daderick Vibes (tm 😂
35. "Why have you been hiding this from me?", 63. "I don't have time to sleep off a cold." and 72. "Person A hasn't been sleeping due to work, and they of course get sick. Despite Person B's wishes, Person A continues to sneak out of bed and stay up late to get more work done, and Person B is not happy."
Notes: went cold... flu... stomach flu... appendicitis? Even though there’s no correlation between stress and appendicitis? No, stomach flu.
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Maverick stirred when he heard the front door open and was immediately on high alert, reaching for the baseball bat resting beside his bed. Then he heard coughing, followed by gasping for air. Sighing, he put the bat back.
He knew exactly who had just come home. Hauling himself out of bed, Maverick found his shirt on the dresser and poked his head out the door.
“Bradley? That you?”
“Hey, Mav. Sorry I woke you.”
Bradley looked... wrecked, to say the least. His shoulders were slumped and he was pale except for the feverish flush on his cheeks. Maverick knew he was coming down with something, but he wasn’t at the point where he was ready to ask for help. He was, however, probably going to work himself to the brink of collapse.
“Have you had dinner, kid? You left here at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Nah, Hangman did a Hangman so I got hauled in front of Cyclone.”
“How does that work?” Maverick frowned, a hint of amusement tugging at his smile. Bradley ran his hand through his hair, sniffing.
“I dunno.”
“B,” Maverick said softly, “maybe you should take tomorrow off. I think you’re getting sick. You’ve got the pale hot flush going.”
“I don’t have time to sleep off a cold.”
“Bradley.”
“No, Mav, it’s just not an option right now.”
Bradley yawned, wincing at his sore throat.
“I’m going to bed. It’s late.”
Maverick watched his son step into the bathroom and close the door, that parental instinct in his gut telling him to listen for him overnight. Just in case.
Sure enough, two hours later Maverick was rudely awoken by a door slamming against a wall. He grimaced, scrubbing at his eyes as he sat up. He thought they were past these days about twenty years ago. Apparently getting sick in the night is something you don’t age out of. Hauling himself out of bed, Maverick made his way back down the hallway and knocked on the door.
“Roo?”
“Go away, Mav.”
“It’s okay, kid. Let me in.”
The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened after a moment. Maverick frowned.
“How long have you been throwing up?”
“I dunno, yesterday?”
He winced, holding a hand out to stop Maverick getting any closer.
“Hold that thought.”
He shut the bathroom door in Maverick’s face. Maverick grimaced, reaching for the doorknob.
“Roo, I’m coming in. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Mav.”
Maverick stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth, getting it wet under the tap then wringing it out to place on the back of Rooster’s neck.
“Is that better, Roo?”
“Hmm...”
He pitched forward and tried to empty his stomach again. Maverick winced, rubbing a hand between his shoulders.
“Breathe, kiddo, it’s okay. Shhh...”
Maverick managed to get Rooster tucked into bed a little while later, teeth brushed, fever meds and water in his system and a bucket by his bed. He’d passed out the second his head hit his pillow, snoring as loud as he usually did. Maverick sighed, cupping his forehead with his palm.
“Okay Roo, I’m gonna go make some phone calls,” he whispered more to himself than to Bradley.
When his alarm went off the next morning Rooster groaned, smacking his phone twice with his hand and missing both times. The third time he attempted it the phone fell off his nightstand and clattered to the floor. He was kind of glad he’d put the hard shell case on it last week because he usually didn’t bother. Wincing at the alarm still going off, he carefully reached his arm down. He found the bucket first, unused luckily, before following the charging cord to his device and switching off the blaring alarm. He was surprised Maverick hadn’t come to check on him. He hesitantly swung his legs around, feet finding the cool hardwood floors. He winced, cupping his sensitive stomach.
That was a negative on breakfast, then. Hopefully he’d be able to keep a cup of coffee down. Despite brushing his teeth after the last bout, his mouth still tasted disgusting and he reached for his water bottle to take a sip and wake up. The water sank like lead in his stomach and he reached for the bucket when it threatened to make a reappearance. When it didn’t after a moment, he got up from his bed and searched for a clean uniform. Once he was dressed, he quietly made his way down the stairs. Maverick was still asleep, didn’t start for another two hours, which made it easy for Bradley to sneak out the front door with a travel mug of coffee in hand. If he knew Maverick, he would insist that Bradley stay home but he didn’t have time for that. They were on a deadline to refine these pilots, he and Jake, and he wasn’t going to let Jake make complete mince meat of them without him.
By the time Maverick was awake, the Bronco was pulling out of the drive and Maverick swore under his breath, scrambling for his phone. The display glaring back at him told him it was 5:28am. Way earlier than Bradley’s usual 8am start. Sighing he got out of bed, scrolling through his contacts before he found who he was looking for.
“Seresin.”
“Jake, if Bradley shows up you gotta get him to sickbay, capiche?”
“Sir, it’s... not even 6am.”
“Jake, you’re staying in base housing. It’s a two minute walk to the car park. You can send him to sickbay or you can hold him until I get there.”
There was groaning on the other end, and Maverick suddenly got the idea Jake may have been... previously occupied.
“Jake, your wingman needs you. Don’t leave him hanging.”
Silence.
“That was straight up cold, pops. Okay, I’m going. Should I wake up Cyclone too?”
“No, I’m on my way. I already texted him last night when Rooster got home.”
There was rustling on the other end, hushed whispers.
“Wait, sir, what’s wrong with Roos?”
“He’s overworked, exhausted and sick, Jake. He could probably do with a day in bed, but no, his mother’s stubbornness stops him from that.”
“Damn, I knew something was off yesterday. Okay, I’m heading out now.”
Jake hung up and Maverick scrambled into his uniform, getting the idea he was going to have to wrangle Bradley or wait until he was too sick to get into his jet. Whichever was easier, honestly.
Jake caught Bradley in the car park, trying to breathe through a bout of nausea in the driver’s seat. He tentatively opened the door, putting his hand on his shoulder.
“Just me, chill. Mav called, he’s worried ‘bout you. What’s going on?”
“I think I’m sick.”
“I gathered from the panicked phone call I just got. What hurts?”
“My stomach... and my head... fuck.”
Rooster turned, throwing up on the pavement by Jake’s boots. Jake winced, holding the back of his neck.
“Yeah, okay, Maverick didn’t give me much to work with but I got it now. Why have you been hiding this from me?”
“Because you would make those aviators quit, the way you’re going,” Rooster hissed, overtaken by the need to gag. Jake frowned.
“What?”
“Those aviators are assholes, okay, I- I- I get it. But they’re also just kids, and you’re scaring them. They need to learn but not in the way we’re teaching now.”
“And what, you couldn’t have called Tash, or Bob, or even Javy to take over for a day? They wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m gonna puke again.”
Sure enough Rooster doubled over and Jake narrowly missed getting his boots covered in barf.
“Okay Roo, I hear you. I’ll go easier. God, why didn’t you say something sooner? I had no idea you were this worked up about it.”
Maverick’s Jeep wheeled into the lot and Rooster winced, scrubbing at his eyes where tears were threatening to leak from the gagging, but also the humiliation of being caught by Hangman, of all people. Jake didn’t move, rubbing his hand over Bradley’s back as Maverick jogged over.
“Thanks, Hangman. You can go back to whoever was in your bed now.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s real sexy to return smelling like barf.”
Maverick put his hand to Bradley’s forehead, frowning.
“Okay, you need sleep and fluids. Maybe Tylenol too, if I can find some.”
“Mav...”
“I know kid, I know you’re stressed, but that’s how you got here in the first place. Deep breaths, shhhh...”
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spooniechef · 8 months
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The Dinner Diaries Days 9-11 - Meat Tips
The last few days haven't exactly been massively exciting in terms of menu stuff. In fact, Monday and Tuesday were pretty much one meal of "heated-up meat, some carbs, something that qualifies as a vegetable" supplemented with fruit smoothies. Today was the tuna broccoli lemon pasta (I finally remembered to go pick up some tinned tuna), so that'll keep me going a little. Just I figured I'd mention a couple of tips and tricks when it comes to meat. I'm sure a lot of this is stuff everyone knows, but ... I didn't know this stuff once, so maybe it'll find someone who needs to know.
Steak: Well, specifically rump steak (other cuts are a whole different beast in some respects, but rump steak is cheaper) but apparently this goes for more or less all red meat. Main thing - let it reach room temperature before cooking. Apparently this helps it cook more evenly. Also, if you spice the steak while it's resting to room temperature, the spices have more time to flavour up the meat. On the subject, one of my favourite things to do with a rump steak for flavouring is to leave it to rest to room temperature in a shallow dish, sprinkled with some garlic salt, some onion powder, a little pinch of celery salt, little bit of dried chilli flakes, and a splash of lemon juice. I'm not sure why lemon seems to enhance chilli, but it does, and that little bit of heat will seep into the steak really well. If you're frying it (which is generally how I do it), heat the pan to very hot but not smoking before putting the steak on - that'll sear the steak and keep it juicy on the inside. Honestly, I figure most of this stuff works for all red meats. As for cooking times, I'm not exactly an expert, because I like my steaks very, very "are we sure they're not a vampire?" rare. I leave them a few minutes per side at most.
Chicken: I'm talking quarter-chicken - thigh and drumstick, still attached to each other, skin on. I'm good at roasting a whole chicken, but I got the general vibe of it from roasting chicken legs on their own. The thing about resting the meat to room temperature before cooking holds true here as well, for pretty much the same reasons. In this case, it's more that whatever salt you're putting in your seasoning mix will permeate the skin and make it nice and crispy - similar principle to making crackling (it's a roast pork thing; I'll handle that one another time). Similar blend, too, though I find the lemon-and-chilli thing a bit overpowering with chicken if not brining it. So I generally stick with garlic salt, onion powder, and a little bit of season-all. Just put it in the oven at about 400F (I generally do 200C fan assist, for those working in celcius) for maybe 15 minutes. If you want to check and don't want to use a meat thermometer, find a small, thin knife and jab it deep into the thickest part of the thigh. If the juices run clear, it's okay to take out. If not, leave it in another few minutes. One of the good bits about the skin being crispy is that it's just another way of searing the meat; not as much moisture escapes so you're not in too much danger of overcooking it if you leave it in a few minutes longer than you need to.
That's basically been the it and all of it - it actually took longer to think about how to describe the tips I used the last couple of days than it did to use them. I do this stuff so often now that I don't even think about it. (Honestly, that was a gripe an ex of mine had with me; he wanted me to tell him how I made his favourite dishes and I gave him so many generalities when he wanted specifics. I measure that shit with my heart, is all.)
Anyway, tomorrow's probably going to be largely about the leftovers, but I'm about to round off today's 'being busy' with making chocolate chip cookie dough from a recipe I found on Gluten Free On A Shoestring. I don't generally post recipes here until I know they actually work, and the dough needs to chill for at least twelve hours, so I'm going to make that now with a view to having at least one mini-break from my work-from-home job involve putting cookies in the oven and maybe rewarding myself for the bullshit my workplace is putting me through right now. I'll keep you posted.
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