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jhdyuiee · 1 month ago

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back to me

✮ pairing: actor!jaehyun x fem!reader

✮ tags/warnings: angst, fluff(ish), smut, unprotected sex, public sex(?), talks to pregnancy, fingering, oral (m receiving), kissing/making out, spanking, squirting

✮ w.c: 1.1k

✮ a.n: hi! im back with—unfortunately—a sad one. hope u enjoy this emotional roller coaster inspired by my favorite artist’s new song back to me by the maria’s! i love u all, stay safe & see u next time 🩶

“hands on the window.”

“w-what if th-they see us?” you asked, lost purely within the lust.

he doesn’t answer, working his fingers inside you instead as an answer.

“you’re so beautiful,” jaehyun whispered, giving kisses to your exposed skin.

his fingers pumping in and out, the squelching noise emitting loudly. your legs grew weak, after having already gone hours fucking you had no energy left in you anymore.

“you cumming already?” he says, kissing down your back until he’s on his knees.

and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers stop moving that you realized they were replaced by his tongue.

“mmm,” he vibrates against your cunt as he tastes your sweet juices.

“ja-jae” you moaned out his name, colliding with the cold window.

the coldness of the window adding to your pleasure. your body shook the more he fucked his tongue in and out of you. your gummy walls involuntarily clenching around him as he went deeper and deeper.

you began bucking yourself back into him, wanting nothing more but to reach your high again.

and with a hand traveling to your front where his fingers begin playing with your clit, you cum. liquid squirting onto the wooden floor and his face. he groans against you before licking up all your juices, cleaning you right up.

he gives a parting kiss to your sweet pussy and finally stands. his hands reach to your hips as he rubs his hardened member against your ass. you moaned his name with every teasing thrust from his cock.

“eyes to the window, don’t wanna miss out on the beautiful ocean view, right?” he muttered into your ear before lighting biting you.

your gaze turned to the ocean where you admired the glistening sea.

too lost in the ocean, until you feel his tip slipping in. “w-wait,” you moan, seeing as a couple walked along the shore.

however he ignores you pleas, yet doesn’t ignore the tightness wrapping his cock.

with hands gripping onto your hips, he thrusts himself in and out of you. a maddening pace, knocking you against the window again. your breast rubbing against the window, eliciting an unimaginable pleasure.

“god, jaehyun,” you moan, already forgetful of the couple outside.

engrossed in the way he kissed your womb, the way he fit perfectly inside of you. you tightened around him, feeling as he begins twitching inside.

“ready? gonna cum in you again, make sure you get nice and pregnant just like you wanted,” he says, giving a slap to your ass.

“ye-yes,” you moan.

jaehyun chuckles from behind before thrusting more roughly into you, going until he starts becoming uneven. you throw your back against him chest, his hands holding your breast as he spills his load inside you. feeling his warmth seeping into you.

“can’t wait,” he whispers breathlessly, “can’t wait to build a house down across the sea.”

“building a family, our family. us by each other’s side for all eternity.”

jaehyun’s lips find yours, kissing you gently, a kiss full of love. an unspoken promise, a future by each other's side.

epilogue.

“maybe it’s over.”

truly. perhaps it’s time to come to terms that this thing between you and him no longer exists.

“try to forget, it’s hard to accept.”

how could you forget him, forget the US you two had? having to accept that those almost 5 long years spent with one another, during all the downs and ups meant absolutely nothing.

it’s outrageous.

and just when you believed the love would stay, stay forever. it disappeared, he— jaehyun disappeared.

it’s been 3 years, THREE.

and you’re not getting any younger, the youth you had was robbed by him. the him before the spotlight.

yet as much as you hate the spotlight for ruining you two, you still can’t help but love the way he shines.

jaehyun. south korea’s top actor, the nation’s prince. the brightest star amongst them all.

he was going to be your ride to happily ever after. your husband, the man you’d wake up to every morning. the man who’d help raise the children you two made— the children you two had planned to bring into this world not so long ago.

“waiting by the altar, saying your name. can i have you?”

it was almost pathetic how stuck you were in the past, in the world that no longer existed, holding onto the hope that he’d come back to you.

“baby, come back to me.”

you whispered every night.

“i could build us a house down across the sea. i’d be there in a hurry.”

the desperation, the longing, the complete helplessness.

you prayed for him, prayed to trade anything else in your life for him to come back.

“promise i’ll stay.”

stay for eternity. but when you knew that eternity would never come, you slowly started losing the grip on the rope.

and,

“promise, i’m changing, back from the dark.”

“but, if i would see you, i’d fall apart.”

and that was exactly what happened. you saw him again. yet it was a rather tearful reunion.

he was across the street, and you’d already been a crying mess. the news articles guilty of causing such tears.

JEONG JAEHYUN TO BE MARRIED AND EXPECTING HIS FIRST CHILD!

the headlines read. it wasn’t just one, it was two, three, fifteen, twenty.

he was living out the life you two were supposed to have. the life you were supposed to be living, the one you two talked about nights on end.

“is she all that you want? is she all that you need?”

and though the news articles didn’t show her face, you saw her. she smiled brightly, and he smiled at her the same way he did to you not too long back.

your heart broke all the more as you watched them. finding yourself only muttering “jaehyun,” repeatedly.

and it was in no way within earshot, yet he heard. as he turned to his left, his eyes immediately found your watery ones. his face remained calm but you could still see how shocked he looked.

you could see the way his face fell seeing your teary face, the face he hated to see most in the world. and in truth he might always hate it, hating to see you hurt— to see you crumble and not being able to do anything about it.

she tries to tug on jaehyun’s hand when he still remains stilled in place. she doesn’t spot you and he doesn’t budge. he tries opening his mouth before closes it, nothing coming out.

you make the first move though. opening your mouth to say:

“i’m sorry. baby, come back to me.”

2024. 04. 24

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carriecarriecatgirl · 2 days ago

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ITS FINALLY DONE!!!! read on ao3

It's my birthday today, Carrie realizes, staring blankly at the calendar. Boss had been keeping her so busy she'd completely forgotten.

She marks off yesterday on the calendar, and giggles to herself. She’s gonna be 14-- she is 14. She races back to her room to get changed, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of black pants. She gathers the previous day’s unfinished homework and stuffs it in her bag. As she does, she accidentally kicks her pair of busted skates under the bed. She somehow managed to break off one of the wheels, and couldn't get it back on. She had complained about it to Boss all night.

She quietly mourns roller skates past, then makes her way into the apartments bathroom to brush her hair, yanking on her boots as she goes.

When she's done, she throws on her jacket and snatches a granola bar from the kitchenette. She doesn't, however, leave through the front door. Instead, she heads back into her room, grabs her bag, and opens the window. She peeks out to make sure the coast is clear, then clambers outside.

See, Boss had taught her how to land after a long fall, and she's keen to try it on something that isn't foam mats.

Carrie climbs up on the railing, and bites down on the flash of fear that comes with looking down the 3 story drop. Stop it. She thinks to herself, Don't think like a loser.

She jumps, and feels the wind rush around her-- and watches the ground speed closer. It's easy. Do it just how Boss taught you. It's easy.

She ducks into a roll right before impact, and pops up, dizzy, laughing, and unharmed.

She brushes the dirt off her clothes and shakes it out of her hair, and shouts, “Balls rad!” laughing even more.

She leaves the alley way grinning, a bounce in her step, as she makes her way to the bus stop.

~~~

School comes and goes like usual. She sleeps through the first half of her classes, goofs off with Michelle for the second half, and only pays any attention in computers. Michelle wishes her a happy birthday, then calls her a senior citizen, so Carrie calls her a newborn baby.

After school, Michelle rifles through her bag, and presents her with an object wrapped in tissue paper.

Carrie takes it, shakes it a little, then shrugs and rips off the fragile wrapping.

It's a little stuffed cat. A white one.

“Oh my gosh it's so cute!” She holds it up, then tucks it close to her chest, squeezing it tight. “You're the best, Michelle!”

Carrie tucks the cat away in her bag with a pat on the head, and the two make their way to the corner store. She gets an orange soda and a bag of gummies, and lets Michelle have the lemon ones.

They chat on their way to the bus stop, then part ways. She holds the stuffed cat in her lap on the bus home, and strokes its soft fur.

~~~

Carrie's exhausted when she gets home, like usual. She fully plans to spend the rest of the day sleeping until it's time for patrol.

But then she opens the door and smells that familiar skunk smell and she sees her parents on the couch and there's a flash of hope and a lance of disappointment shot through her gut.

“Hi mom. Hi dad.” Her hands tighten on her backpack straps. Don't do it Carrie. Don't be stupid.

Just go to your room. Don't get hurt.

Carrie's mom looks at her with mild recognition, smiling that mellow smile. The hope in her chest grows. Don't do it.

“D’you know what day it is?” Idiot.

“Oh, it's Thursday.”

“Anythin’ special about it?” Stupid.

“I don't think so, why? Hey, what's with the long face? What's wrong, Caroline?”

Every year you do this. Every year you get hurt. “...Nothin’, mom. Just wonderin’.”

Brambles of hurt and disappointment tighten around her heart, and she blinks away tears. She won't cry, not now, not in front of them.

Carrie opens the door to her room, pulls out the little stuffed cat and clutches it to her chest as she collapses on her bed, sobbing. She cries until the tears run out and she lays until the hurt replaces itself with apathy and she squeezes the cat so tight her knuckles ache.

She only gets up when it's time for patrol.

~~~

Usually patrol cheers her up, but tonight she's just miserable.

She keeps missing her shots. She throws a batarang at a thug’s gun, and it embeds itself in the wall 3 feet to the right.

She slips off a roof and Boss has to sacrifice catching the perp to save her. Boss growls in frustration as he tugs her back up, and Carrie knows it's not directed at her, but it still makes shame coil in her stomach.

She wishes she could just focus.

“Robin.” His voice startles her. “Your performance tonight has been...subpar. You've been distracted, preoccupied. You’re usually better than this.”

A hot flash of shame burns in her gut, and she looks away. Her Boss crouches down and meets her at eye level. He says, much lower, but not necessarily softer, “You’re focused on something else. What's wrong? What's affecting your performance so much?”

“Nothin, boss. It's stupid.” She sniffs, and swallows past the lump in her throat. “I'm real sorry, I'll do better, I promise."

“Hn.” He grunts, and Carrie feels a hand placed softly on her shoulder. She feels tears drip down her nose, and she scrubs at them.

“It was my birthday today. I dunno why I figured m’parents would remember this year. They never do.” She heaves a breath, hugs herself, and murmurs, “Idiot. What did you figure was gonna happen.”

She sniffs, and wipes her face. “I'll do better Boss, I promise.”

Bruce grunts, about to speak, but then snaps up, attention fixated on some point in the alley below, ears perked to sounds she hadn't noticed.

“Heads up.” He points to a shadowy figure starting a motorbike below them. “That's our man.”

Carrie doesn't slip up the rest of the night, but at the end Bruce tells her to leave the house, but not to go to school in the morning. He says to walk down 25th, and that he'll be waiting at the corner on Florence. He says not to be late.

She goes home and stews on her mistakes until she falls into a fitful sleep.

~~~

Despite her dread, morning comes.

Carrie falls out of bed, exhausted and anxious. She dumps out the contents of her backpack, instead stuffing in her costume. She tosses on her clothes and her boots, throws her bag over her shoulder and walks out the door.

She picks at the hem of her shirt, worrying the fabric between two hands as she creeps down 24th, crossing over to 25th. God, she's in trouble, isn't she? She messed up bad last night. Too bad.

She stalks down 25th towards Florence, head down, shoulders hunched, lost in thought. She feels sick. What if he fires her? What would she do?

Her thoughts spiral as she walks down the street, gripping the straps of her backpack tight. She feels the weight of the suit on her back, how much it means to her.

Would Boss really do that? Just toss her aside?

“Carrie.” Calls out a firm voice behind her, knocking her out of her thoughts. She whips around, ready to defend herself, before realizing she doesn't need to.

He's wearing a long overcoat with the collar flipped up, but she still instantly recognizes him as her boss. The brief flare of joy in seeing him is drowned out with fear and anxiety.

“You’re early,” He rumbles.

“Um...” Carrie mutters, hesitant. She walks up to him, craning her neck to look him in the face. “Boss, I just wanted t’ say that m’performance last night ain't all I got, that I can do better, an’ that I'm gonna work real hard to show you that.” She takes a breath, “An’ that I really hope y’don’t fire me.”

Her heart drops as he just stares blankly at her.

“...I'm sorry?” Bruce says, after a beat.

“What?” Carrie blinks, “I'm not fired?” She asks, incredulous.

He just furrows his brow and fixes her an odd look, as if that were a stupid thing to ask.

“No,” Bruce says, slowly, “you're not fired.”

Relief soars through her, easing her heart. “Oh. That’s…that's good.” Carrie rubs her arm, awkwardly. “I was, uh, worried.”

“Carrie,” He says, softly, crouching down, “It's alright.”

“...Okay. Okay.”

“Now come along.” He rumbles, standing back up. She listens, stepping up alongside him, sticking close.

“...You can hold my hand if you want too.”

Carrie says nothing, but grasps his hand quickly, gripping it like a lifeline. Bruce squeezes her hand back, and she feels herself relax, just a bit. He leads her along a few blocks, her gradually calming down until the aftermath of fear is entirely replaced with curiosity.

He takes her, still holding her hand, into a skate shop.

“Boss, what...?”

“Go on,” He says, gesturing to the roller skates, “Choose a pair.”

Carrie just stares at him for a moment, confused, before walking up and looking at the selection. After a bit of hard thought, she ends up picking the same set she already has.

“These are like the ones I had before,” She muttered, offering the box to Bruce.

He takes it up to the counter to pay, and she follows behind, clutching onto his coat like she usually does his cape.

They walk out of the store with the box under his arm, before he hands it back to her.

Carrie just stares at the box in her hands, uncomprehending. “Boss, I...I don't get it.” She looks up at him. “Why?”

Bruce looks at her meaningfully. “Your old skates were broken.” He pauses, briefly. “Happy birthday, Carrie.”

It takes her a moment to process his words, but when she does her chest floods with warmth and she tackles his midsection in a hug. She squeezes tight with all her strength, and he slots one arm under her legs and one arm around her back, and pulls her up to his chest. She nestles in closer, feeling safe in his arms, protected.

He reaches down to grab the discarded box, slotting it under one arm while hoisting her up with the other.

“...Thank you.” Carrie whispers. He just rumbles against her, tugging her close. She hopes he never has to let go of her again.

#my writing #carrie kelley #hooooooooooooooooooooo......

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im-tops-bottom · 4 months ago

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SO I GAVE CHATGPT AN INCORRECT QUOTE AND TOLD IT TO TURN IT INTO A FANFIC. EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR CHATGPT (I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY)

...

The living room of their shared dorm was buzzing with the usual chaos: laughter, teasing, and the occasional insult thrown with love. Felix had just gotten up to grab some snacks when it happened—a small, seemingly innocent brush of his arm against Chan’s shoulder as he passed by.

It was nothing, really. Completely normal. Except the way Chan’s gaze flickered to him, dark and piercing, made Felix’s stomach flip like it had been hooked to a roller coaster.

"Felix," Chan said, his voice low and teasing. "Do you always have to walk so close to me?"

Felix froze in his tracks, his freckles glowing brighter against the blush spreading across his cheeks. "I-I didn’t mean to! There’s not much space here!" he stammered, avoiding Chan’s intense eyes.

From across the room, Hyunjin raised an eyebrow and leaned back with a sly grin. "Oh, there’s plenty of space, Lix. You just like being near him."

Felix whipped his head toward Hyunjin, mortified. "I do not!"

Seungmin snorted, crossing his arms. "Sure you don’t. You practically orbit him like the moon around the Earth."

"More like a magnet to steel," Changbin chimed in, laughing as Felix’s blush deepened.

Jeongin leaned forward, his mischievous grin making Felix wish the ground would swallow him whole. "Except this magnet is very submissive and very flustered."

"Enough," Felix groaned, burying his face in his hands.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. Lee Know smirked, gesturing to Chan. "And Chan looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying this."

The room went silent for a second, everyone turning to look at the leader. Chan leaned back on the couch, arms stretched casually over the backrest, a smirk tugging at his lips. "What can I say?" His voice dropped an octave, making Felix shiver. "I like it when Felix is obedient."

Felix choked on his breath, his eyes wide as he gaped at Chan. "W-WHAT?!"

Hyunjin, never one to miss an opportunity, fanned himself dramatically. "Oh my God, someone open a window. The tension in here is suffocating."

"Honestly, just let them get it over with already," Seungmin deadpanned, leaning back in his seat.

Jeongin grinned, leaning toward Felix. "When he calls, you say ‘yes, sir,’ right?"

Felix groaned, his face buried in a pillow as laughter erupted around him. "I hate you all!"

Chan leaned forward, his voice soft but full of teasing authority. "Aw, don’t be shy, Lixie." He tilted his head, his gaze practically smoldering. "They’re just stating the obvious."

Felix peeked over the pillow, his face still red. "Why are you like this?"

"Why are you like this?" Chan countered, his tone gentle but firm.

Changbin clapped his hands, breaking the moment. "Alright, someone call an ambulance for Felix. The poor guy’s about to pass out."

"Or call wedding planners," Lee Know said with a shrug. "This feels like a proposal at this point."

Hyunjin smirked. "Just wait until the honeymoon."

Felix shot up from his seat, his voice muffled by the pillow he clung to like a lifeline. "I’m leaving. Forever."

But as he made his way toward the hallway, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. He turned to see Chan standing there, his usual playful smirk replaced by something softer.

"You’re not going anywhere," Chan said quietly, his thumb brushing against Felix’s skin. "Not without me."

The room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles as Felix stared at Chan, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it.

And as much as Felix wanted to crawl into a hole and die, a small part of him didn’t mind the attention. Especially when it came from Chan.

#chanlix #incorrect stray kids quotes #incorrect stray kids #short fic

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strangemischieff · 2 years ago

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She’s Always a Woman To Me—Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: When Steve’s parents come home unexpectedly, he runs to his friend’s house for safety. (First posted fic, feel free to roast.)

A heavy breath escaped Steve’s lips as he pulled into the driveway of her trailer. The only way he knew for sure it was hers was the old blue truck he pulled in behind. He has only been here once before, just to drop her off, so he wasn’t totally sure of himself when he drove there. In fact, he wasn’t totally sure he knew why he drove here. In the past, when he needed somewhere to go, it’d be wherever his friend group was boozing at the moment, but that wasn’t an option anymore. He’d never thought he was bothered by that until this very moment while he was trying to work up the courage to knock on her front door.

She wouldn’t even know you were here, he thought to himself, if you turned and ran right now she’d never know and you can act like everything is normal and stop bothering her about something that’s not even a huge--he got out of the car.

Walking closer to the front door, he could hear music coming through the window in the back—The Pretenders—he almost laughed out loud. The urge to smile at the thought of her spinning records alone on a night before she’d have to spend the whole day in a record store was louder than the thoughts in his head telling him to leave her alone, she never given you any reason to think she likes you enough to help you out tonight, especially when it’s not even--he knocks 3 times.

Quickly, the music was lowered. Through the crisp air and buzzing of the summer evening, Steve could hear glasses clinking and muttered curses as small steps rushed closer to the door separating him from potential safety. Or, she could laugh in your face and kick you out. There are probably plenty of other people she’d rather be around tonight, especially after—

“Harrington?” Steve looked down with a tight lipped smile to see the girl that appeared behind the swinging door. He noticed her voice wasn’t condescending or at all teasing when she asked, “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“Naaah, I just, I-I-I thought I’d stop over because I, uh,” Wherever bridge Steve’s train of thought was careening off of was suddenly gone, replaced only with the question, “What the hell am I interrupting?”

Every strand of her hair was messily thrown into varying sizes of velcro rollers, her t-shirt was damp and hung to her knee, and there was a smear of something muddy on her face. Although he doesn’t think he’d ever seen her without black smudges around her lashes, darkly lined lips, and big red boots on, Steve Harrington wasn’t one to be shocked by a girl with no makeup on. He’d seen plenty of girls “before and after” a night out, so he had no explanation for why he couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Ha-ha, don’t answer my question with a dumber one,” she replied, leaning against the door frame. “Why are you here?”

Again, her tone was just soft enough to make him want to tell her everything that was pounding through his brain like horse hooves on a racetrack. Couldn’t do it, though. “I was in the neighborhood.” He was lying through his teeth and she knew it, and he knew that she knew it, which is why his heart swelled a bit when she told him to come in instead of questioning him further.

He didn’t think it was possible for a trailer to look like this from the inside. In fact, if you’d asked anyone in their graduating class to guess what the inside of her trailer would look like, no one would have come anywhere close. With the records lining the walls on shelves, big pillows and plush blankets on the couch, dim lighting, and photos and posters covering the walls, Steve thinks it’s the coziest place he’s ever been.

He wanted to tell her that; wanted to say thank you for letting him see her home and for answering the door at all and that he’s sorry people didn’t treat her well enough in high school just because they didn’t know any better and that he wishes he could have helped and he doesn’t really deserve to be standing in here at all, but instead he said, “what’s on your cheek?”

She turned her eyes, which looked like they were trying to read something on his face, to the mirror on the wall next to her. “Oh, it’s a facemask. I was kinda having a ‘me night’ before you got here.”

“Hence the new Pretender album I could hear from outside?” he teased, knowing she was going to question why he was there and trying as hard as he could to prolong that.

“Yeah!” she barked a laugh. “I finally got enough saved to snag one of the copies we have in the shop without having to skip out on groceries. Which I was totally considering, by the way.” This earns another big breath from Steve, both a laugh and of some relief at his success. After some silence between the two of them, she continues, “um, you could join me? If you want?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

———

“And this is supposed to do…what, exactly?” Steve scrunched his nose at the slowly hardening gray goop covering his cheeks. He was seated on her bed, hair pinned away from his face as he sipped on the glass of wine in his hand. She was across the room, leafing through the milk crate of vinyls under her desk.

“I don’t know, make your skin better? Close your pores? Something like that.” She waved it off, turning to him. “Stop doing that, relax your face. Hall and Oates okay?” She held the record up for him to see.

He nodded as she approached the record player. Did she know they were one of his favorites? “I’m offended that you think my skin needs the help.”

“Shut up, it’s more for fun than anything else,” she walked over to him as the static faded into the familiar opening chords of You're Out of Touch. As she put a hand on his cheek, the poetic timing of that particular song was not lost on him, especially while he was trying his hardest not to think about it. “I think we’re good to take it off now anyway. Follow me.”

He did so, into the tight space as she turned on the sink. She waited for the water to warm up, then dipped a washcloth into the stream, hopping up onto the counter next to the sink to face him. Resting her hand on the spot between his neck and shoulder, she began to wipe the facemask off of his skin.

“Am I hurting you?’

“No.”

“Then stop doing that scrunchie face again.”

Whether it was the glass and a half of chardonnay he had since getting to her place, or the steady rhythm of her dipping the cloth into the warm water, cleaning off his skin, rinsing the gray stuff off the cloth, and repeating, Steve’s tension had almost totally eased. So, he was caught off guard when she said, softly, “do you want to tell me why you came here?”

Steve held his breath and she must have noticed because she continued in the same tone, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. But I know just talking about things usually helps me, makes my brain quieter. Or we don’t have to.”

Steve took a deep breath. She wasn’t watching him, staying vigilant to clean his face (which was quickly warming up, and he is blaming that entirely on the warm water and nothing else). But was looking right at her, and he decided he wasn’t afraid. In this tiny bathroom, he didn’t need to be.

“My parents came home,” he finally admitted. She didn’t pause her process, or speak, and Steve assumes she was waiting to see if he wanted to say more. “I didn’t expect them to, and as soon as they started talking to me I just…needed somewhere else to go. I didn’t want to be in my house anymore.”

She looked like she was thinking for a moment, before she said, “I know they’re not usually there. Do you prefer that?”

“You got that right,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, obviously I don’t get along well with my parents either,” she vaguely gestured to the trailer she lived in by herself, “But I don’t know how I’d handle my parents popping in and playing house all of the sudden,” she was looking at him with her big eyes.

Steve didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like it was okay to complain about his family, with how well off they were compared to people like her and the Byers. His mouth was opening and nothing was coming out. She hopped off the counter. “I don’t blame you for running out of there. But there’s no one to antagonize you like that here.” she laughed.

As she hung the cloth on the drying rack and handed him a fluffy towel for his face (telling him sternly to “pat, don’t rub,”) and began to rinse her own face in the sink, Steve continued, “I guess I just didn’t want to act like I was feeling sorry for myself. But the thought of staying in the house with them made me, I don’t know, panic. I just wasn’t ready to deal with it.

“I totally get it! You shouldn’t have to put up with that shit out of nowhere!” she raised her voice slightly to make sure he heard her over the rushing water.

Like the flowing of water from the faucet, Steve let his words flow from his mouth without stopping them, “They always want to grill me about my life, you know? And no matter what I’m doing, it’s never enough. Hell, I could tell them I’ve been elected president and they’d find a reason why I’m not doing enough! And what if I don’t want to think that far into my future just yet? What if I just want to ‘live for today’ or whatever. Oh, and don’t even get me started on how they acted when I told them about the breakup with Nancy. They NEVER take interest in my personal life until I mention that I’m single again, and all of the sudden they just want to talk about how I couldn't even keep a relationship with such a nice and promising young lady. And if I even try to defend myself my father will..”

Quickly snapping off the tap, she turned to face him, water dripping off of her chin. She seemed to be holding her breath, clearly expecting the worst. Although she might not have been too far off, he decided he’d maybe want to keep the details to himself for now, and waved himself off.

“You can stay here, if you wanna,” she told him when he didn’t resume the rant, “That way you don’t have to think about going back until you’re ready.”

Steve’s heart swelled at the offer, and despite feeling like it was more than what he deserved for this situation, he nodded his head, and she grinned. Looking at her, he noticed she missed a spot right under her eye, so he grabbed the cloth she used on his face, held her chin with his other hand, and gently wiped her skin clean. As she watched him carefully, she quietly told him, “you don’t deserve that, you know. I mean, no one does, but you really don’t.”

“Yeah?” he murmured softly, eyes flicking over to hers before returning to his task.

“Yeah. I think you’re doing just fine. Better than they’d pay attention enough to notice,” they stayed looking at each other.

“I’m still sorry for complaining,” he admitted, tone still soft. “I wouldn’t blame someone like you for being annoyed when someone like me complains.”

“Now you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” she pointed out, rolling forward on her toes and almost bumping her nose against his. “Besides, just because I might have some shit, it doesn’t make your shit any less…shitty.” Steve laughed, clearly confused, and she threw her head back in a laugh as well, tossing her wrist over his shoulder. “I just mean that two things can be sad at the same time. And you can tell me anything. I…I’m happy to listen.”

Steve looked down at their feet, both of them in a pair of her fuzzy socks (“they’re essential,” she had told him), and reached a hand up to wrap around her forearm. “Thank you,” he spoke deliberately as he brought his eyes back up to hers. “I think…I think I know that. I mean, that I can tell you…stuff.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Okay, let’s go, if you’re spending the night you’re watching ‘Raiders of the Lost Arc’ with me.”

The movie choice didn’t matter, by the end of the night. The two of them talked over it, and the next one, and the next; they talked about their parents or exes or the things that kept them up at night here and there, when one of them felt like they needed to. They laughed those laughs that make your face get all hot and make you feel like you’ve just run the mile in gym. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that, and it was certainly more laughs than he would have had with his parents at home. They talked to each other until they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore. And the next morning, when Steve wakes up on the couch with her feet on his lap, he decides that he’d never felt more at home.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #Steve Harrington x reader fluff

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tkachuktkaching · 2 years ago

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Inside the sibling matchup between Brady and Matthew Tkachuk and their all-star sister, Taryn

According to Chantal, Matthew and Brady were “always, always, always” competing hard in things roller hockey, basketball and even a made-up game called “trampoline football” that just consisted of the siblings throwing a football and body checking each other on the trampoline in their backyard.

“It was almost a joke in our family,” she said. “You know, they’d go out and play roller hockey and we’d be like, ‘OK how many minutes until they come in and somebody is complaining or fighting?’ And sure enough, somebody would come in complaining, and then they’d be back out five minutes later playing again. They just always were each other’s playmates and just competed all the time.”

When asked if there was one particular fight, or moment that stood out, Chantal joked that there were too many to just pick one.

“Oh god, it happened kind of regularly,” she said laughing. “I mean, I’ve replaced windows from hockey pucks. I’ve had to patch walls from mini-stick games that got a little physical with body checking each other into the walls. So there’s not really one that stands out because it was sort of the way they were all along. They just played hard and had fun.

“They always played mini-sticks in the wives lounge too,” she added. “I think the other wives with no kids thought I was crazy because (the boys) would usually end up rolling around the floor tackling one another.”

Brady remembers the brotherly fights fondly.

“Oh yeah, there were a bunch of fights she had to break up or we’d come in the house flying around on our rollerblades trying to get at one another or me trying to get away,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a lot of good memories, and I think it made us both who we are today.”

“It’s hard not to be everywhere you want to be at the time, but the boys understand that their sister’s stuff is important too, and this is a big tournament for her this weekend,” Chantal said on the phone from Tampa. “They keep checking in. We have a family group text chat and they always want the updates on how she is doing.”

“I am Taryn’s biggest fan,” Brady said. “She recently committed (NCAA Division I) to play for (University of Virginia) and we are all super happy for her.”

Brady and Taryn are especially close because when Matthew left the house to join the U.S. National Development Program, they only had each other.

“They’ve got a cute, sweet bond,” Chantal said. “But both the boys are really supportive, and she knows it and I think that makes her feel pretty special.”

Brady and Matthew have become well known for being exactly like their dad on the ice. And well, Taryn isn’t too different. In some of her highlight videos, you can see her skill, physicality and knack for “accidentally” running into opposing goalies.

“She’s a Tkachuk,” Brady said with a big grin.

It’s not hard to see where she gets it from either. When Brady and Matthew were competing in the driveway or body checking each other on the trampoline, Taryn was often right in the thick of it with them. If she wanted to play, she had to compete hard. And that’s followed her onto the field, just like it followed her brothers on the ice.

#matthew tkachuk #brady tkachuk #taryn tkachuk #chantal tkachuk #keith tkachuk #throwback interview #source the athletic

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mattnben-bennmatt · 11 months ago

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Ben Affleck's interview w/ The Hollywood Reporter (10 October 2012)

Confessions of Ben Affleck

Argo's Oscar-baiting director, newly 40, talks about his career turnaround, how anxiety drives him, what Matt Damon's wife might think when he comes over, and what he emailed J. Lo.

By Stephen Galloway

On Aug. 15, Ben Affleck — Oscar-winning wunderkind of Good Will Hunting, other half of “Bennifer,” skyrocketing superstar who soared, sank and sizzled again thanks to his directing endeavors Gone Baby Gone and The Town — turned 40.

He celebrated with a dinner party thrown by his wife, Jennifer Garner, at their Pacific Palisades home, attended by a handful of close friends on the brink of middle age, including Matt Damon, his WME agent Patrick Whitesell and Disney production president Sean Bailey.

“It was not fun for me,” says Affleck of entering his fifth decade. “It’s this moment of bifurcation between youth and middle age. One wants to think of oneself as young. One does not want to think: ‘Wait a minute! How can I be halfway to death?’ ”

Halfway to death, perhaps, but sitting with him one late September morning at Santa Monica’s Hotel Casa del Mar, this actor-turned-director — the Hollywood embodiment of nine lives — seems anything but as he bristles with nervous energy, words spilling out of him about his roller-coaster past and glittering present.

“He’s gone to the top and then to the bottom and now to the top again,” says Damon, his friend since the two met as children. “He’s gotten the full measure of what this life in Hollywood can offer, and now he is comfortable with it.”

Nearly a decade after Affleck had one of the most ignominious falls in Hollywood history — thanks in part to Gigli and dubious PR stunts like kissing Jennifer Lopez‘s derriere in a music video — he has emerged, unexpectedly and almost suddenly, as one of the best directors of his generation. Warner Bros.’ Argo, an Iranian hostage drama that he helmed, is an early leader in the awards race. Set to open Oct. 12, it was called a “tight and tense political thriller” by THR‘s Todd McCarthy and has earned the kind of raves that once would have seemed impossible for the star of Armageddon.

All this is the hard-earned climax to a deeply considered shift Affleck embarked on eight years ago, when he set out his goals and determined never again to do work he was ashamed of. “I made the decision: ‘I’m never, ever, ever going to do anything where I don’t absolutely kill myself to get it right,’ ” he recalls.

Vanished is the man who dwelt on his deep insecurity when he and this reporter last sat down about five years ago. During that conversation, he admitted the Gone Baby Gone shoot had left him physically sick from stress. “I’m very insecure,” he said. “I’m human, just like anybody else.”

Vanished, too, is the tabloid pinata with his colorful love life, personal drama (including a stint in rehab) and career highs and lows. “I tried to ignore it as much as possible,” he says of the fuss. “There was only one way to handle a situation like that: Go straight through it.”

He addresses all this with an openness and even sweetness that would surprise those used to the more coiled figure onscreen. “I was shocked at how warm he is,” says Alan Arkin, who plays a Hollywood producer in Argo. “He’s got a great deal of warmth, and he’s not afraid to show it. He has a wonderfully open, youthful quality that you don’t see a lot in the characters he plays.”

Sitting by a window overlooking the Pacific, in jeans and a blue-checkered shirt, unshaven and sipping from a plastic cup of soda, with flecks of gray in his beard and a gold tooth he’s never bothered to replace, he has embraced the very doubts that once assailed him. “Anxiety is a kind of fuel that activates the fight-or-flight part of the brain in me,” he says. “It makes sure that a velociraptor isn’t around the corner and that you do as much as you possibly can to survive. Because Hollywood has a lot in common with Jurassic Park and its primeval-dinosaur universe.”

Affleck, the one-time party boy, now gets up at 6, goes to bed at 9 and has been married for seven years with three children (Violet, Seraphina and Samuel) under age 7. As he discusses married life, Garner, about to fly to New York, calls on his cell.

“Hey, love, are you on the plane?” he asks gently. “I’m in an interview right now, but I love you very much.” Then he quips that her trip is doubly traumatic for the actress, “First, ’cause she’s away from the kids, second, ’cause I’m in charge.”

She might have reason to worry, given how consumed Affleck is by work. “There are so many decisions to be made, and it’s more than you can get to each day,” he says. “There is this underlying anxiety not just about getting the movie done but getting it done really well. It keeps my head spinning — even when I am giving the kids a bath. I can be giving them a bath or feeding them, and sometimes they say, ‘Dad, pay attention!’ ”

When he’s not with his family, he’s at home working in a “sort of little office hut” or developing material through Pearl Street Productions, the Warners-based company he runs with Damon, who has remained a lodestar throughout the ups and downs and who now lives down the street from him. “We see each other almost too often,” laughs Affleck. “I wonder if his wife is thinking, ‘Is he really going to come over every night?’ “

When he’s on his own, he reads and consumes films avidly. He has just finished Laurence Gonzales‘ nonfiction book Surviving Survival, about how individuals cope with horrific incidents like being attacked by sharks; he also has been reading novelist Gillian Flynn‘s suspense drama Gone Girl and David Mitchell‘s Cloud Atlas.

Rather than watch television, he recently has immersed himself in a trip through some of the greatest films ever made — from the 2011 Mexican movie Miss Bala to director Victor Fleming‘s The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind, which he viewed back-to-back — as if he wants to quench a raging thirst for the knowledge that will allow him to seize the ring within his grasp. He is intrigued to hear about Memo From David O. Selznick, a collection of the Gone With the Wind producer’s notes, and orders it immediately by phone after his interview.

He also spends time at a coastal getaway near Savannah, Ga., and in his New York apartment, where he expects to move with Garner when their kids have grown up. He plays poker on a regular basis with actor Hank Azaria and his Argo producer Grant Heslov. “It’s very, very psychological,” he explains of his attraction to the game. “It’s about weakness and strength and divining whether the other person is strong or weak.”

He goes skeet shooting and admits to owning several guns — which he has embraced since his wife faced a stalker.

“The stalker had been to our house many times and ultimately came to my children’s school and was arrested,” notes Affleck of Steven Burky, who was deemed insane in 2010 then placed in a mental ward and ordered to stay away from the Affleck family for 10 years. “It gave me a stronger sense of feeling protective about my family. There’s a lot of crazy, weird people out there. It’s an ugly world.”

Affleck has given up any notion of reforming it. After once being rumored to want a career in public office, he now says, “I loathe politics.” He supports President Obama but has not actively campaigned — partly because of his workload, partly because of his political disillusionment and partly because he is convinced the president will win the election despite the Oct. 3 debate. “I watched it backstage at Jimmy Kimmel,” he says. “It wasn’t his best performance. But I am still going to vote for him, and I am very, very confident he will win.”

As to his other interests: “Kids eat up that kind of hobby time,” he admits. “I used to ride motorcycles. I used to play basketball. And now basically I’m at home with them, or I work.”

The work itself will have its greatest test with Argo. Affleck was fresh off 2010’s The Town and in talks to helm another movie at Sony when Warners showed him Chris Terrio‘s script about real-life CIA operative Tony Mendez and his little-known plan to free six men and women who had fled the U.S. embassy in Tehran when it was seized in 1979. The escapees took refuge with two Canadian diplomats, and Mendez set about creating a phony Hollywood film, Argo (that title derives from a CIA in-joke — “Ah, go f– yourself” — though it is not presented that way in the movie), as a front to squirrel them out of the country.

The moment he read it, Affleck called Heslov and George Clooney, who had been developing the project through their Smoke House production company, “and I just launched into what my take was and didn’t stop talking for 45 minutes.”

Heslov and Clooney were sold.

“This film tonally is a very tricky piece, and he had very intelligent things to say about that,” recalls Heslov, describing the movie’s tightrope balance of comedy and suspense. “His idea was to push the thriller aspect a little more than we’d originally talked about. And he was right.”

Initially, Affleck had envisioned reworking the script himself, but the draft was so impressive and his relationship with Terrio so good that he allowed Terrio to make the changes. Together, they added a new opening that succinctly explains the Iranian revolution and how it led to the capture of more than 50 Americans, who would remain captive for 444 days within the embassy.

They also worked on redefining Affleck’s character, based on Mendez. “He was a little bit more broken in the draft that we got,” notes Affleck. “He was older, an alcoholic. And I changed that and made his personal stuff revolve more around his family and losing his marriage.” Ultimately, he says, that was “the wrong choice because I ended up cutting most of it out. I cut out six or seven minutes from the final film, which is a lot.”

Other characters were merged, and some situations simplified, which later would lead to complaints from former Canadian Ambassador Ken Taylor that his country hadn’t been given its due. Affleck addressed those concerns with a card at the end of the film that explains how the CIA plot complemented Canadian efforts, which he expands on in a long interview planned for the DVD.

In preparation for the movie, he flew to Maryland and met with Mendez, who took him to a bar that turned out to be a CIA hangout — the very hangout where agent-turned-spy Aldrich Ames had met some of his Soviet contacts. He was surprised how taciturn Mendez was. “He was extremely withdrawn and very unassuming,” says Affleck, adding that he only came to understand this when he saw the 2001 Errol Morris documentary about the operative, The Little Gray Man, showing how blandness was crucial to his work, allowing him to blend into alien environments.

With Mendez on board (joined by John Goodman as real-life Hollywood makeup man John Chambers, Bryan Cranston as a CIA staffer and Arkin as a fictionalized producer), the CIA opened its doors beyond anything Affleck had experienced when he’d worked with the agency on 2002’s Tom Clancy thriller The Sum of All Fears.

Invited to visit, he was astonished that “every hallway had a pretty elaborate lock on it, and every door had a lock, and there were no windows to see in any of the rooms, so everything was secure. Some of the offices had two computers at every desk, one with huge stickers that said: ‘This is connected to the Internet. No classified information.’ I wanted to use that, except there were no computers in 1979.”

He also was surprised how low-key the place seemed, even when he stepped into its holy of holies, the futuristic Operations Center, where supersecret material and personnel were whisked away before he arrived. His impression of inactivity changed two weeks later, “when they killed Osama bin Laden.”

Thanks to the CIA’s reverence for Mendez, Affleck received permission to shoot several sequences at the agency’s headquarters in Langley, Va. — though “that meant having the trucks show up at 2 in the morning, so they could all be searched down to the screw. I’ve shot in a prison, and the search they put you through was nothing like this.”

Most of the film, remarkably, was filmed in and around Los Angeles, with a Hancock Park mansion standing in for the Canadian ambassador’s residence, where the escapees hid out. (In reality, they were kept in two separate places in Tehran.) Zsa Zsa Gabor‘s home was used for the Hollywood producer’s (she was upstairs during shooting, but too sick to come down), and the Ontario International Airport, 35 miles east of L.A., substituted for Tehran’s.

A 65-day shoot began in California then relocated to Istanbul, Turkey, for a month. Affleck had hoped to use real-life Iranian immigrants in Turkey for all the crowd sequences but well into filming found that “we couldn’t get one person of Iranian descent who speaks Farsi to be in the movie because they’re all so terrified of what that would mean for their family back home. We were completely f–ed.”

(Some of those scenes later were re-staged in Los Angeles, where there are about a half-million Farsi speakers, says Affleck. They and the CGI shots that transformed signs in English gave the film a rare authenticity and allowed it to be made for a modest $44.5 million.)

Shooting in Istanbul had its challenges, especially when Affleck came down with the flu while still acting and directing. “He was really, really sick, with a fever, the whole thing, and he didn’t take a day off,” says Heslov. “At the worst point, he left a bit early, and he had to be feeling really terrible to do that.”

His enthusiasm was matched by the extras, who often numbered around 2,500 and occasionally got out of hand, especially once when Affleck was in his car. “People were yelling and chanting and throwing stuff and having fun — and it all sort of bled over,” he explains. “I was a little scared, although I tried to summon up that director’s arrogance. All the great directors, I think, are arrogant; so I thought, ‘This is the time when I get out the bullhorn and say, ‘Back off!’ ”

He didn’t, alas. “I must not be doing something right,” he jokes.

Contrary to his image as a working-class “Southie” in Good Will Hunting, and later in The Town, Affleck, the elder of two sons (his brother Casey also is an actor), grew up in relative comfort in Cambridge, Mass. His mother, Chris, had been one of the original freedom riders who went into the Deep South during the 1960s to fight for civil rights. Both she and his father, Tim, were intellectuals who gave their son the middle name Geza after a Holocaust survivor they admired. (Affleck comes from Protestant stock but is agnostic.)

Damon — who was 10 when he met his 8-year-old near-neighbor Ben — remembers the cut-and-thrust of discussions in the Affleck home. “That dinner table was one of the funnest places to be growing up because of all the debates that went on — on any subject. You had to craft an argument and a good one to survive. Ben really honed his debating skills there. He’s not a guy you want to get in a debate with.”

Adds Affleck: “My mother taught public school, went to Harvard and then got her master’s there and taught fifth and sixth grade in a public school. My dad had a more working-class lifestyle. He didn’t go to college. He was an auto mechanic and a bartender and a janitor at Harvard.”

He also was an alcoholic, a predisposition Affleck inherited. “His life sort of hit the skids when I was in my teens,” he says. “It was difficult. When one’s parent is an alcoholic, it’s hard. It was a little scary and trying, but then he got sober when I was twentysomething, and he’s been sober ever since.”

The two maintain a cordial relationship, though they don’t see each other much, says Affleck. “My father has positional vertigo, and if he flies he gets really dizzy, so he has to drive out to California, which he does a couple times a year. We talk, but we e-mail mostly.”

The problems at home peaked when Affleck’s parents split before his teens and filtered into his life at the Cambridge Rindge and Latin School, where he sought refuge in plays, appearing as Damon’s son in Friedrich Durrenmatt‘s The Visit before both started auditioning for professional roles.

“I was a bit of a f–up,” he says. “I got really good grades until the last two years, and then I didn’t. I was having issues around my dad and my mom, and things just weren’t that stable — though that puts the responsibility on them, when really I just lost focus and stopped caring.”

While Damon went to Harvard, Affleck attended the University of Vermont, where he majored in Middle Eastern Affairs before switching to Los Angeles’ Occidental College, embarking on an acting career while he and Damon were roommates in Eagle Rock, an East Los Angeles neighborhood.

He found minor success with such films as 1992’s School Ties and 1993’s Dazed and Confused. But it was Good Will Hunting — the script Affleck and Damon sold to Castle Rock Entertainment for $600,000, which went to Miramax in turnaround — that made them stars. At the Oscars, they brought their moms and soon were double-dating with Gwyneth Paltrow (Affleck) and Winona Ryder (Damon). America was enchanted. With an Academy Award for best original screenplay, Affleck was a mere 25 years old and as hot as they get.

Then something went wrong. Instead of following Hunting with equally impressive material, Affleck chose roles in such action pictures as 1998’s Armageddon and 2001’s Pearl Harbor, while Damon starred in Saving Private Ryan. Partly, says Damon, this was because these were big breaks for a relative newcomer and partly because Affleck thought he could fix scripts that didn’t work — only to discover the director is the fixer.

His movie choices solidified a lightweight image that, combined with romantic escapades, made him perfect fodder for an exploding celebrity press. When he went from dating Paltrow to media-magnet Lopez (buying her a multicarat pink diamond ring, to boot), he no longer was just an actor — he was part of a phenomenon known as Bennifer (version one). Their Bentley rides, engagements, breakups-and-makeups were chronicled almost in real time. Affleck, who had risen to earn a reported $10 million to $15 million per picture, now was more infamous than famous.

“To watch the entire world have the totally wrong idea about somebody you care about and admire was painful, just as his friend,” says Damon. “I can’t imagine what it felt like to him. I remember Ben calling and saying: ‘I can sell magazines and not movies. I’m in the worst possible place I can be.’ “

Over the next few years, everything he had built came crashing down. He already had gone into rehab for unspecified causes in 2001; then came the disappointment of his superhero-in-tights spectacle Daredevil and the disaster of Gigli, the 2003 picture in which he starred with Lopez before their relationship collapsed.

“I went to rehab for being 29 and partying too much and not having a lot of boundaries and to clear my head and try to get some idea of who I wanted to be,” explains Affleck, declining to go into further detail. “It was more a ‘let me get myself straight,’ before it became a rite of passage.”

He stays in touch with Lopez, just as he does Paltrow and his high school girlfriend, Cheyenne Rothman. “We don’t have the kind of relationship where she relies on me for advice,” he says of J.Lo, “but we do have the kind of relationship where there’ll be an e-mail saying, ‘Oh, your movie looks great.’ I remember when she got American Idol. I said: ‘This was really smart. Good luck.’ I touch base. I respect her. I like her. She’s put up with some stuff that was unfair in her life, and I’m really pleased to see her successful.”

Despite the media onslaught, Affleck’s closest friends remained convinced his talent was supreme.

“What always struck me was how smart he is,” says his longtime agent Whitesell. “He had the biggest disconnect of anybody between the way the world saw him and the way he really is. We talked to each other and said, ‘It’s going to be a long road back, but we will get there.’ “

When Affleck took the risk of going behind the cameras with Gone — a mystery about two investigators tracking a missing 4-year-old girl, released by Miramax in the post-Harvey Weinstein era — Hollywood insiders were stunned that this apparent featherweight had such depth. But the movie still was perceived either as a fluke or too dark to make Affleck a candidate for bigger films. Only Warners executive Jeff Robinov pursued him with absolute conviction.

“Gone Baby Gone was not at all financially successful,” notes Affleck. “But Robinov brought me into his office and said: ‘I think you’re a hell of a filmmaker, actor. What do you want to do? Tell us, and we’ll do it.’ And I wasn’t having those meetings with every studio.”

Affleck opted for The Town, a $37 million drama that earned $92 million domestically. Its success shocked even cynics. The flameout, who had become a byword for has-been, was now one of Hollywood’s most promising directors.

Getting there was a direct result of the decision Affleck made around 2004.

“I was frustrated with the movies that I had done,” he explains. “I knew that I had something to offer. I said: ‘Here are the things I’d like to do: I want to direct movies, and I want to be in a movie that I’m enormously proud of. I want to have kids.’ I set out goals. It was a bold thing because when one is accustomed to falling short, as I had been, one becomes fearful of making predictions. But I did.”

Garner, whom he met on Daredevil, contributed to this thinking. “Jennifer played such a profound role in making me a better person,” says Affleck. “We don’t have a perfect marriage, but she inspired me; and finding myself in that marriage and having a child dovetailed with getting to be a little more mature.”

Asked what drew him to his wife, he considers. “She truly is kind,” he says. “She means no one any harm. She doesn’t have ill will for any person. She’s not competitive with other people. She’s not spiteful.” He laughs. “It’s one of those things where it becomes almost aggravating at times. Every time I go, ‘F– him!’ I see in her face that she just thinks that’s petty and small.”

Now Affleck is concentrating on the meaningful and large. He is developing a movie adaptation of Stephen King‘s The Stand and plans to reteam with Damon on Whitey, the story of James Joseph “Whitey” Bulger Jr., a Boston crime figure who went on the run for 16 years before being captured outside his Santa Monica apartment in 2011. Affleck will direct, and Damon will star.

But other matters are beginning to weigh on him just as much as film. “One gets older,” he reflects, “and the things that you didn’t realize were absences in your life now feel like real vacancies.”

In November, he will make his seventh visit to the Democratic Republic of Congo, where bloody civil war has lasted 14 years (despite peace accords signed in 2003) and cost 5.4 million lives. It has become his abiding concern ever since “I came across this passage about how 10 times as many people have died in Congo in the wars since 1997 [as in Darfur] and was stunned that I didn’t know.”

The filmmaker first went there in 2007. “I saw terrible things,” he says. “You know: the amount of sexual-based violence against women; people suffering from preventable disease; child soldiers who needed to be integrated into society; children without schooling at all. So we started to get involved in those areas.”

Two years ago, he helped form the Eastern Congo Initiative, which provides developmental aid for local communities, working with farmers who grow cacao, among other activities.

Affleck’s commitment to Congo has not been risk-free. On one occasion, he was in a single-engine plane caught in a hailstorm, with a pilot who didn’t know his way. “We were flying through Sudan, and the hail was really banging up the plane. The pilot was saying he didn’t have enough fuel to fly back to Juba. I was terrified. It was the only time in my life where I really thought, deep in my heart, I might die.”

It’s a flash of the old insecurity that still remains, buried deep inside. He’s older, wiser, glowing in the gleam of his new film, but the fears and anxieties still have to be held at bay. Even in his work.

“Sometimes I get insecure about being a real director because I look at the great directors, and they have such command,” he says. “But maybe that keeps me critical of myself. Maybe it keeps me moving forward.”

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trustygaragerepairplanotexas · 3 months ago

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New Garage Door Pricing in Plano, Texas

Plano Garage Door Pricing Breakdown: Understanding Your Investment

Roll-up Commercial Garage Door Installation in Plano, TX

Choosing the right garage door goes beyond just its appearance—it's a valuable investment in your home's security, energy efficiency, and curb appeal. For residents of Plano, TX, knowing the key pricing factors is essential in making an informed and budget-conscious decision. This guide provides an in-depth look at what affects the cost of your garage door installation, helping you plan your project with confidence.

Understanding the Full Investment

When planning your garage door budget, it’s important to factor in all costs, not just the door itself. The price can range from a few hundred dollars for basic models to thousands for custom options. Key elements such as materials, size, insulation, and additional features all influence the final price.

Factors that Impact Garage Door Costs

Material Selection

Different materials come with varying price points and benefits, according to Home Guide:

Steel: Durable and low-maintenance, steel doors cost between $800 and $2,500.

Aluminum: Lightweight and rust-resistant, aluminum doors range from $700 to $2,000.

Wood: Natural and traditional, but high-maintenance, with prices from $1,200 to $4,000.

Fiberglass: Lightweight, weather-resistant, and wood-like in appearance, priced from $800 to $1,800.

Vinyl: Resilient and low-maintenance, costing $1,000 to $2,500. 2. Size and Configuration

Door dimensions directly affect both materials and labor:

Single Doors: Typically 8-10 feet wide, ranging from $500 to $2,500.

Double Doors: Wider, usually 12–16 feet, with prices from $800 to $4,500.

Custom Sizes: Custom designs add 15–30% to the overall cost. 3. Insulation Options

Insulated doors boost energy efficiency, especially in extreme climates:

Non-Insulated: Ideal for mild climates, starting around $500.

Single-Layer Insulation: Moderate temperature control, priced between $800 and $2,000.

Double-Layer/Foam-Injected Insulation: Premium energy efficiency, costing $1,500 to $4,000. 4. Design and Style Your design choice influences both aesthetic and cost:

Traditional Raised Panel: Classic look, priced between $600 and $1,800.

Carriage House Style: Rustic appeal, typically between $1,200 and $3,500.

Modern Glass & Aluminum: Sleek, contemporary designs range from $2,000 to $5,000.

Custom Designs: Unique and fully personalized, ranging from $3,000 to over $10,000. 5. Added Features and Accessories

Enhancements can elevate both functionality and security:

Security Features: Smart locks ($200–$500) and reinforced frames ($100–$500) enhance security.

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multdoorrepair · 3 months ago

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bcbdrums · 1 year ago

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Cadenza

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

Fourth in a series of 31 prompt-based one-shots. Prompts from this list.

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A/N: Soul needs to bond with Maka's dad. Just saying. Anime-verse, post-canon. My headcanon is that the room with the piano and pictures on the wall we see in episodes 1 and 51 is actually an art gallery somewhere in the academy. 4. “Hold fast to dreams for when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.” --Langston Hughes

Sunlight poured warm and bright through the gallery's picture windows like a curtain, bathing the room in gold. Just like any dawn, it served to bring a sense of freshness and rebirth to the surroundings and a feeling of hope for better things.

It should have been inspiring.

It was not.

Soul stared at the dust that floated through the yellow rays as he sat in the one part of the room untouched by the sun's warmth, the piano next to the wall still in shadow.

He looked down at the keys, pristine and unmarred even by fingerprints — a testament to the academy's custodial staff, he supposed. But, he also rarely heard of the instrument being played.

He set his hands in a familiar pattern, letting them rest upon the smooth ivory, but he didn't play. Countless songs were at his fingertips, but his soul denied each of them. Whatever it was he was yearning for that had brought him back to the rarely-used room, he couldn't identify it to bring it out.

And so he sat unsatisfied, letting memories of the past float through his mind like the dust in the sun and simply staring down at familiar black and white, a small comfort in and of itself even if it couldn't resolve whatever had his soul in such a twist.

"I’d expected to hear something by now."

Soul startled upright at the unexpected intrusion.

“D-Death Scythe!” he exclaimed, the name coming out less respectful and more accusatory, which only added to his sudden panic.

Outside of the collective safety of the classroom and without his meister, Lord Death’s second in command suddenly seemed very intimidating. Not that it stopped Soul's cocky tongue.

“How did you know I was down here!?”

“I saw you heading this way. And the art gallery isn’t exactly a popular student hangout,” was the man's soft reply.

Soul slowly lowered himself back down on the piano bench, seeking that small familiarity for protection as the tall man slowly approached, hands in his pockets and a gentle smile on his face.

“I was looking forward to listening. Your playing is practically legendary,” the death weapon continued, stopping just behind the hinge of the grand piano’s lid and setting a hand on the smooth, black surface.

“Huh?” Soul replied, his initial panic being replaced by confusion. “You must be thinking of Kilik, or someone else.”

“I think Maka talked for at least an hour about you and the piece you played after you two became partners,” Death Scythe continued. He paused and glanced toward the windows, the light still streaming in and quickly increasing the ambient temperature of the room. Or maybe that was just Soul’s nerves getting the better of him. “That’s a night I’ll never forget.”

'Neither will I,' Soul thought, but he wasn’t about to ask the man what had caused his eyes to grow misty and stolen the smile from his face. But before he could fumble out another response, the red-haired man had turned back toward him.

“So how about it? What can you play?”

Put on the spot, Soul wasn’t sure if he should show off, flee, or say something insubordinate. But Death Scythe’s comment about Maka talking about his playing for over an hour had caused the roller coaster of his thoughts to flatline.

She truly thought that much of it? Granted, she was wholly uneducated and slightly tone deaf when it came to serious music, but what he had chosen to play for her—in fact, what had been designed to put her off—had captivated her that much?

Death Scythe was still waiting, his expression calm but his eyes encouraging. Soul thought for another moment and then adjusted the placement of his fingers over the keys. 'Show off,' was what his racing mind kept repeating, and his fingers began flying over the keys in long-practiced patterns, filling the room with boisterous rhythms and jolly harmonies.

He didn't look up, focused on accuracy for something he hadn't touched in years, but he could peripherally see the expression on the man's face. He was impressed, and Soul smirked as he arrived at a cadence where he could stop. He wasn't about to play an entire sonata on the spot, no matter who the audience was.

When Soul finally looked up in victorious satisfaction, the death weapon lifted his hands and offered soft but affirming applause.

"You're very good," was the man's comment after several honoring claps. The words were genuine, Soul knew, but he suddenly had the feeling of being exposed—the way he used to feel during a lesson when he hadn't practiced beforehand and knew his teacher would be able to tell. Sure enough, the proof came out in Death Scythe's next words. "But that isn't what you played for Maka."

Soul wanted to snip at the man for his intrusion and for his assumptions. And he knew it would take the slightest thing—either an insult to his musical intelligence, or, it was past ten in the morning so shouldn't he be at the bar already?—to send the red-haired man spluttering angrily away. But, he found his mouth had gone dry.

As the tall man stepped around the instrument to hover over his shoulder Soul suddenly realized he wasn't seeing him as a death weapon, but as Maka's father. A man who despite flaws that could be listed from sunup to sundown (in his meister's opinion, at least) was still skilled, intelligent, and ultimately someone whose approval mattered to Soul.

"I used to play guitar, you know," Death Scythe said, reaching down to set a hand on the keys. Soul leaned away from the man's proximity and looked up at his slightly furrowed brow, where it was clear he was trying to recall something.

"What kind?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Electric. Les Paul."

Soul's brow rose.

"It's still in my closet somewhere. Haven't touched it since...I was younger than you," the man continued, pursing his lips with a small hum of nostalgia.

The younger weapon glanced between the man's face and his hand still resting on the keys not far from where Soul's had been, but he'd tucked his hands into his lap when the man came near.

"Why'd you stop playing?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Death Scythe shrugged lightly. "Got busy. Chasing souls, chasing after my meister, chasing..."

He trailed off, and Soul mentally finished with the likely demeaning comment of 'tail,' but his curiosity had been piqued now and to offend Maka's dad wouldn't get him any real answers as to why the man had followed him down to the gallery.

Before he could think of something else to say, a single chord rang through the room. It was slowly followed by another, and another. There was no added rhythm, each chord lasting a slow four counts, but it was clear almost immediately that it wasn't that type of piece as Death Scythe played. The progression was complex, having started in happy major but moving quickly to minor and drawing the tension out, approaching resolution but taking surprising turn after turn away from it. Soul glanced away from where he was memorizing the chords to the man's face, his eyes only half-watching what he was doing as they had glazed over, clearly recalling something. And whatever was on his mind, Soul knew it wasn't music theory.

"So you play piano too?" Soul asked, though he could tell from the uncertainty of the man's movements despite the lack of errors that this wasn't an instrument he had much experience with.

Death Scythe didn't reply immediately, hesitating as he seemed to struggle to recall something, and then brought his own impromptu performance to a conclusion with the expected major chord. But everything that had come before it had left the sunlit air with a feeling of melancholy.

The man finally straightened up and took a step away and back out of Soul's personal space, for which the teen was grateful.

"No, just when I would write... To hear the song with a different sound, to see if it was really going where I wanted it to."

Soul's chest was burning with curiosity now, despite the fact that this was Maka's hated, cheating father standing next to him. Had he written the haunting song he'd just played? What was its meaning? How many other songs had he written? And was that guitar in his closet still in fair condition?

Death Scythe moved back to where he'd stood before by the piano lid's hinge, in the position a teacher might occupy. Soul felt the familiar unease of being scrutinized again, but he didn't shrink from it. His expression was open now, watching the older, more experienced scythe and waiting. What for though, he wasn't sure.

"We never had to fight the kishin itself in my day," Death Scythe began, "but we certainly had our share of defining battles."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Soul couldn't help but quip. He doubted the older weapon had ever dealt with anything quite as painful or terrifying as the blast of the kishin's weapon.

Of course, Soul recalled then with a flash of guilt...the man had lived through exactly that.

"Entire covens of witches. Rogue wizards. Immortal monsters who couldn't hardly sustain damage let alone die," Death Scythe reminisced, glancing out the window as his expression fell to stone.

Soul bit the inside of his cheek. Despite having faced and ultimately helping Maka win against the kishin, there was something too real and ominous in what Death Scythe had said. There was still madness and evil roaming the world, and he couldn't forget his duty just because they'd been victorious against one extremely large threat.

Soul began to mentally pack away the twisting confusion in his chest that had led him to the gallery that morning. His own problems were nothing in comparison to his responsibilities to Maka, or to Lord Death and the rest of the world.

"She doesn't love you because you're close to becoming a death weapon, you know."

Soul's thoughts were arrested again, every one of them floating away like the dust in the sunbeams as his throat constricted.

'What?'

Death Scythe was looking at him again, the hardness to his eyes having softened but not to the place it was when the man had entered the gallery. He didn't speak again, simply staring at him out of the wisdom of experience that was reflected in the clear, teal depths of his eyes, suddenly extremely visible despite the curtain of red hair that was designed to hide them.

When Soul remembered to breathe, he leapt to insubordination as a defense. Because talking about Maka in that way wasn't something Soul ever wanted to do with the older scythe.

"Psht, and what would you know about love?" he retorted cockily.

Death Scythe's expression only softened further, and Soul balled his sweaty hands under the piano in unease. No one ever looked at him the way the man was now, except perhaps Maka, and it was unsettling. As if he could somehow see through him even lacking soul perception, see his thoughts and insecurities and everything in his life that had his wavelength pulsing erratically as he wondered who he was and who he was supposed to be.

Death Scythe shifted to lean against the piano and inhaled slowly. His gaze on Soul clarified in seriousness. His voice remained low and soft as he answered, as it had with every word he'd spoken.

"I know that in the lives we lead as weapons, we're incomplete without it. We belong in the hands of a meister, and that relationship in itself is part of what defines us. Trying to make it on our own, or out of sync with them...it won't work. We'll end up losing ourselves if we don't...allow ourselves to accept love. And give it in return. Because the trust that comes in love is the foundation of a successful weapon-meister partnership."

Soul ran over the words in his mind, processed them... He knew they were true. But rebellion still won out.

"And I'll say it again... What would you know about it?"

Soul didn't like how Death Scythe had seen through him so clearly, to the questions that had haunted him ever since the kishin's defeat as life had slowly begun returning to normal. But, what was normal anymore? His soul had been stirring ever since that day with questions he couldn't even put to words, but hearing one of them spelled out so clearly was a bit more than the young scythe could handle in the moment.

Just who was he to Maka now, after everything?

Death Scythe's response to the dig against him was to hum softly in acknowledgement, his gaze lowering to the floor. But the small, thoughtful smile he wore remained.

He turned back to the window, and Soul noticed the brilliance was fading from the sun's rays. He couldn't see the dust floating in the air as clearly anymore.

"You're still very young."

"Hey—"

"And I don't want you to make any of the mistakes that I made."

This gave Soul pause. He watched in silence as the death weapon's smile began to fade to seriousness again, and he wondered... This was Maka's father. A victim of tabloid fodder for over a decade, an unashamed alcoholic and flirt, an utter failure in domestic life...and the death scythe of death scythes. The way he'd always viewed the man, through Maka's eyes, suddenly merged with the man who had taken that first nearly-fatal blow from the kishin, standing bravely with Lord Death between madness and the rest of the world.

Spirit Albarn turned from the window, piercing Soul with his clear, teal gaze once more. Crimson stared back, open and almost childlike in the hope Soul suddenly found he needed.

"Don't let what you think you need to be...become so important that you lose your soul."

The younger scythe was pierced by the words as well as the gaze, again struck by how the man he'd never wanted to respect had seen straight through him. Curiosity brimmed at the back of his mind, about what could have happened to lead the man astray from the foundation of love he had so aptly named as vital to a weapon's relationship to their meister. But he ignored it, swallowing slowly as he let his grip on nothing fade, his gaze falling to his hands as he spoke.

"What if...I'm not sure I even have the key to my soul anymore?"

Death Scythe's expression fought then between impassivity and a grimace, the man glancing down as the latter slowly won, and Soul had the overwhelming impression of seeing Maka's father once again and not the death weapon.

"Then...you look to your meister. And h— She'll...know where to find it. If you trust her."

The older man pursed his lips and seemed to force away whatever discomfort he felt and then looked back at the teen with knowing, pressing eyes. Soul felt his mouth had gone dry again as he attempted to process what in essence was permission and in fact encouragement from the man to love his daughter.

"So. Soul Eater..."

The red-haired man nodded toward the piano, his soft, parental smile returning as he straightened up from where he'd leaned against the instrument.

Soul looked down. He brought his hands back to the keys and moved them into another pattern, anticipating. They were still sweating, but not for fear of being judged on a mistake.

It all started with one terrifying chord. And after taking a deep breath, he let it resound through the room—through his fingers, through the floor, feeling the vibrations through his bones until the power faded. And then, a single repeated note that increased in speed until it finally climbed.

He let everything fade. The warmth and radiance of the sunlight around him, the gnawing in his chest of something yearned for and unsatisfied, and Maka's father watching him less than two feet away. He let himself slip into the music, ignoring the constraints of tempo and rhythm as he alternated between precision and recklessness, simply playing as his soul demanded.

And through playing... Not for his family, not for aid in battle, and not even for Maka... He felt the beginnings of peace; a settling of his wavelength into the same frequencies vibrating out of the strings as he played for him for the first time in perhaps years.

And that, he finally realized, was what was missing. Ever since the crisis of the kishin's escape, he had spent every part of himself on being what everyone else and especially Maka needed. It was in his nature as a weapon. But as he felt the confusion in his heart lessen, he was forced to admit that Death Scythe was right.

He couldn't continue being everything for Maka, and everyone else, if it all ended with giving every part of himself away. And with all he had learned in his short years at the academy, he realized he was ready at last to find himself again.

These thoughts sent more peace through his wavelength as he let the song almost play him, responding to it as much as he was directing it—the push and pull of the tempo, the power and gentleness of the dynamics, everything in his soul pouring out through his fingers in the way he had always desired but felt he couldn't permit himself to express.

As he let the newfound freedom bring rest to his soul, he suddenly understood just how right Death Scythe was. The passion he felt to be what his meister needed was no longer a pressure, nor carried fear of failure. It was light within him, and he knew...if he continued this pursuit of his own soul—the reason he'd joined the academy to begin with—then he could truly be the weapon partner she deserved.

The revelations washed over Soul as he played the final chord of the song with cathartic release. And he didn't want it to be over. He wanted to keep playing, to let his wavelength spill out in the way he'd first learned before he'd ever discovered his weapon blood, and relearn himself in the way that he never wanted anyone to know was so precious to him. But before he did that, he knew reluctantly that a thank you was in order. He lifted his gaze from the keys.

"Hey—"

Soul blinked at an empty room. Death Scythe was gone, and the suns rays had shifted, lighting up the ivory in an almost golden aura and leaving him feeling empowered, his soul practically vibrating in readiness.

"Hmm," he huffed lightly as one corner of his mouth curled upward just enough to reveal a toothy grin. He shifted his hands on the keys and began another song, his soul rising with the music like the sun.

#soul eater #soul eater fanfiction #soul evans #spirit albarn #death scythe #soul eater evans #spirit #cold nights warm hearts #fanfiction #if you squint there's a Stein mention

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dreamingon-forever · 2 years ago

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hi can you give some levihan headcanons as a couple , maybe in modern au

Thank you so much for the request! This is my first headcanon request so I tried to make it as perfect as possible! Also, bear with me because I got overexcited with the ask, and instead of the point form HC formulation I should've followed, I may or may not have thought up their whole freaking backstory... and their follow up story... Oops. I won't post it here today, but I do think I will make it a separate post some other day if anyone is interested enough. Either way, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!

AO3 link: 💚💜

I like to think that even in modern AU, Hange would still have her cheery personality, but instead of obsessing over Titans, she'd be more interested in microbes (I know, transition between giants to microorganisms, LOL). She'd still be interested in saving humanity, but more in the bacterial and medical kind of field instead.

Levi on the other hand, no longer having to be a soldier, he'd happily run the tea shop he'd always wanted right next to his best friends Isabel and Furlan.

The two met on a subway ten years ago on Levi's first day of work in the city. Where an unfortunate mix up of personal belongings caused by clashing into each other got them acquainted and familiar with each other. Despite the unfortunate meeting and the roller coaster of events that unfolded from their collision, it eventually became a pleasant story to tell their friends or at parties when asked how they met.

They were complete opposites of each other. Hange loved the outdoors while Levi preferred staying at home. She was loud and upbeat while he preferred silence and tranquility. Hanger had a habit of being free willed and letting her spontaneity take her, while Levi liked to have everything planned and set before getting into anything

And it wasn't just their preferences that differed, it was every aspect of themselves. Their life choices and ways of thinking were drastically opposing. Even the way they disagreed on what they wanted to eat for dinner caused heated discussion when brought up, as Hange would pick sweets for dinner instead of something sustainable like Levi wanted.

They were complete and utterly the opposite of each other. And while everything pointed to them not working out and onlookers put their money on their relationship ending in a messy breakup, they proved everyone wrong every time with how much their bond only grew stronger overtime. And how their loving partnership became more and more obvious the more time spent around them, erasing any doubts they had about the couple.

Yes, they fought occasionally, and they drove each other absolutely insane. But their differences also brought them out of each other's shells, together experiencing new things they would've never seen without the other otherwise. They saw the world in a different light through each other's eyes, and came to love the new combined word they created together. Because with being opposites of each other, it also meant they filled each other's holes and missing pieces. Almost like creating a stained glass window meant to be clear with splashes of purples and greens instead. Creating an accidental masterpiece that came to be adored by those lucky enough to bask under the kaleidoscope of colours in their inner chapel. Bathing those closest to them with the deep love they had for each other.

Throughout the years of getting to know each other, they found a way to put their differences away, and somehow managed to build up their relationship status to best friends. So much so that Isabel and Furlan, Levi's childhood friends complained about being replaced so quickly. Although, in all considerations, it felt to Levi like he was the one being replaced by Hange instead with the way his friends loved her. Hell, even his mother and uncle seemed to love her more than him.

"Welcome home, runt. Where's Hange? I wanted to discuss about the new wine she mentioned to me last time." His uncle would say when he'd visit.

"Oh Hange! I've made your favourite pudding!" His mother would greet, throwing herself at his girlfriend before she caught sight of her own son staring at them with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, Levi! Nice to see you too of course."

Contrary to his grumbles and complains about Hange being overburdened by his family every time she visited, he couldn't help but feel his heart beat happily at knowing the love of his life was accepted by his family, and that they loved her as much as he did himself. Having the two most important parts of his life get along was all he cared about.

Despite having known each other for ten years, having met when Levi was 26 and Hange 24, they didn't start dating until... well that was a mystery of its own as they themselves didn't really know when they started dating. Not fully at least.

Somewhere along the years of their friendship the lines blurred, and they somehow ended up with the shocking, yet not surprising realization that they were and had been dating each other for a while. But the way they realized it and came to terms with it wasn't an easy one. When Levi finally came to terms that he harboured feelings for his best friend, he initially thought that Hange had feelings for someone else. And he could only put up with the unbearable pain he went through when he overheard Moblit mention to Nifa that Hange couldn't meet with them for a work dinner because she had a date already.

So one can only imagine his surprise when Hange showed up with a smile at his shop door on Saturday, greeting him and his workers as happily as ever. Even throwing herself at him for a hug like she always did whenever she visited. A hug that would be considered too personal and close for two individuals that were only considered friends. But not once during her whole afternoon spent there did she mention anything about meeting up with anyone else, but the suspense was absolutely killing Levi by the point the clock struck half an hour to dinner time.

But Hange continued being her usual self. Greeting new and old clients alike as if she'd been friends with them for ages. Making a complete mess of his usual clean counters only to be scolded off by Levi to go to the corner and read instead, and even teasing him about random things like she always did. All the while being completely unaware of the turmoil and the pain Levi felt at thinking about how he would have to hide his feelings and having to pretend to be happy for Hange being with someone that wasn't him the rest of their live. It was becoming an unbearable and depressing Saturday to say the least. His mood only soured more as Hange still acted all upbeat and nonchalant as ever. Not once having brought up her dating life to him, despite being her so called bestie. And it brought about this ugly feeling of disbelief and jealousy out of him that he'd never experienced before.

As nighttime fell over the streets, Levi finally broke his silence and lashed out at her bitterly, asking why she was hanging out with him when she already had plans with someone else.

And out of all ways she could've reacted to his interrogation, being laughed at was something he didn't expect.

"But Levi, YOU are my date." She finally gasped, having finally gained the capacity to breathe again after having laughed at his question.

"Huh? How am I your date, fucking Four- Eyes. We never made plans for anything. Besides, I overheard your coworkers talk about you meeting someone instead of eating with them... How can I be considered your date?"

Hange tilted her head, amusement flowing in her brown eyes as she caught the usual poised and self-assured raven-haired individual lose his composure. "Huh... But I thought we've been dating for while now, Shorty. I've even been referring to you as my boyfriend to my friends and coworkers for the last few months."

Turns out, her date was none other than Levi. And her idea of a date was hanging out with him at his tea shop on the weekend like she's been doing the last five years. And Levi, as clueless to feelings as ever, never put two and two together.

The whirring of machine cogs and espresso machines filled the silence between them as Levi processed whatever Hange had just said.

"The fuck?! You can't simply just call me your boyfriend when I haven't even been aware of us dating this whole time!" He finally retaliated, throwing the rag in his hands onto the tabletop.

Hange giggled, noticing the reds on his cheeks. It wasn't a no, she could read from his eyes. "I like you too, Shorty. So? Are we officially dating now?"

"You better make up for the last few months I've been out of loop of my own relationship."

They ended up adopting a black goldfish adorably named One-Eyed Moody after the professor of the dark arts from the Harry Potter series for the fact it was both very moody and in fact, one eyed. Levi had reluctantly agreed to let Hange get a pet for their apartment once they had moved in together after a year of dating. He expected her to get a cat, a big dog, or a lizard for all he knew. Although he made it very clear the last one were on the black list.

Instead, Hange had found One-Eyed Moody on a cart ready to be discarded off at the pet shop. Having instantly connected with it, she begged Levi to get it. And with a heavy sigh, he couldn't say no. Mind you, it was pretty much dead at that point, but through endless observation and whatever mutated food concoction Hange whipped up, it came back to life in a matter of weeks. And in turn, Levi had somewhat grown attached to it. Hange liked to joke that it was their baby and it resembled them both in some ways.

Their days spent together were a blend of their interests mixed into one. When Hange wanted to settle down and read, Levi would do skin care for both of them to make use of their time. All the while Hange reading aloud the words from her book so Levi could listen as well. When Levi wanted to clean the house, Hange knew better than to lend a hand as he was peculiar in his ways. So instead she'd make some tea for both of them and cook dinner for a famished Levi by the end of his cleaning session. On days Hange felt like watching a documentary on bugs or microbes, Levi would lay his head on her lap as she brushed her fingers through his locks. The soothing motion letting him get some shut eye he usually never got due to his insomnia.

Hange had a habit of working overtime, and sometimes even staying overnight at her lab. On days like these Levi would pack up some sweets from his shop and some warm tea and bring them to her office as he kept her company. On the off days Hange had a day off, she'd use it to help around in Levi's shop. Chatting up customers and bringing a bright feeling to the atmosphere. Levi absolutely adored watching her laugh and interact with regulars from behind the counter. Although he'd never voice these thoughts aloud. But it wasn't needed, as his employees, Jean, Sasha, and Connie all make kissy faces to each other whenever they caught Levi glancing a little too long at his partner.

Levi didn't like to admit it, but most of his photos on his phone were of candid pictures of Hange. But not the flattering ones most boyfriends take of their girlfriends that are Instagram worthy. No, most of them were completely unflattering. Many consisting of Hange snoring with her mouth wide open, of her laying in a pile of dirt after having chased a squirrel. Of Hange throwing a middle finger to the camera after being caught without caffeine early in the morning, or even of her snorting in laughter after something funny Erwin had told them during one of their get togethers.

He was absolutely infatuated with her. With her quirks and her being. He was in love with Hange Zoe.

And similarly, Hange kept a record of all the plants and bouquets Levi gave her over the years. A collection of pressed flowers and dried leaves from every flora and fauna he'd ever gifted her. Because as much as she loved flowers, she loved more the effort gone into picking a different flower each time they had a celebration. Because as Levi had once told her, she was so unique that not one flower could ever describe her, and that he could never tie her down to one specific plant.

Normal dates like going to the mall or watching movies before dinner on a weekend weren't their thing. Instead, beach dates in mid freezing February nights, stargazing spontaneously on a random Wednesday night, running around the fields of the neighbourhood Hange grew in during summer afternoons, hiding from thugs after trespassing someone's property to take a look at the size of a wasp's nest, ending with the nest falling to the ground and its inhabitants swarming around the local outlaws on a spring morning... All were chaotic memories that belonged only to them. Those were the kind of dates they had.

They never had to verbally express their admiration or love for each other openly. Or make it everyone's business to know that they were together because they had upmost trust in their partnership and relationship without having to project it to the world in a fright of being misunderstood. Both knowing perfectly well how much they cared and loved each other in the small gestures they shared: The little brush of fingertips as they greeted each other goodbye before work. In the way they worked in sync when working together on a project for their new home. Of how they made love to each other in the warm embrace of each other, blinds closed and moans silenced between their interexchange of kisses. Making their love known only between themselves. It never became a pressing matter having everyone else know their business or feeling the need to explain their relationship to others. In the end, their actions spoke louder than words, and everyone could tell that they had the upmost trust in their relationship.

But in the calmness and safety of their bubble, eventually doubt would emerge, and leak a hole in their safe haven, no matter how much effort they put into keeping it afloat.

Hange absolutely loved and had a strange fascination for energy drinks infused in coffee, the ones that had 10 times the amount than should be allowed by any manufacturers or allowed to pass inspections. So much so that she'd stop by the convenience store on the corner of their apartment every time she came back from work. Bringing with her at least 10 cans with her.

Levi, despite his eye rolls and grumbles about over caffeination and annoyance at having a bunch of empty cans to constantly recycle, still got them for her whenever he passed by on his way from the tea store nonetheless. Loving and having a soft spot for the way Hange's eyes lit up and the way she threw herself at him every time he brought it for her.

Due to their different time schedules they never got to meet up to shop together, but nonetheless they each become regulars in the little shop for the drinks Hange so badly craved.

It was one day that Hange came back, a look of complete defeat on her face as she slummed against the door that Levi understood something was wrong. That, and the fact her hands were empty of her usual drinks.

"Finally figured out you were consuming poison?" Levi questioned as he started unclasping her shoes, carefully placing them on the shoe rack.

Shaking her head sadly, Hange sighed. "No... they hiked up the prices again. I know we're tight on money so I can't go buying five dollar coffee from the convenience store anymore... I guess I'll just have to settle for the stale decaf coffee they have at the office."

"Tch... don't exaggerate, Four-Eyes. The drinks were never more than two bucks." Levi muttered, taking her jacket off and placing it on the hanger.

Hange's brows furrowed. "Two bucks? When have they ever been that cheap? I've always been paying four fifty."

"Huh? What fucking store have you been to? It's been two fifty since we've moved here." Levi grumbled, flicking his finger over her forehead.

The topic brought on an argument that lasted the whole night over who was right and wrong. And it only settled when they both agreed to go to the store the following day together. Luckily it was a national holiday and neither had to go to work.

The following day, in typical Hange fashion, she'd forgotten to feed One-Eyed Moody. Refusing to leave the house without feeding him first, she told Levi to go on first, and that she'd meet him in the store.

But what she found as she entered the familiar shop was something she'd never expected. The usually bored clerk was suddenly chirpy and chatting up no other than her boyfriend. Levi on the other hand, seemed quite discontented from the conversation, but kept adding a word or two in politeness.

Suddenly catching his girlfriend's gaze, Levi started raising his hand to signal her over, when Hange crossed her hands in front of her, shaking her head vigorously as she unlinked and relinked her arms in the cross motion, signaling behind the cashier's back for Levi to not blow her cover.

Confused at her sudden antics, he furrowed his brows, but did as instructed, following Hange's pointed look to the cooler housing her favourite drinks before she mouthed "cashier, go pay for them!".

It was only after he exited the store ten whole minutes later, an annoyed look on his face that Hange finally pounced on him.

"So?"

"So what? You left me to listen to that girl talk about bad dates alone for ten minutes. Here's your stupid drinks." Levi grumbled, throwing the plastic bag into her arms.

Shaking her head, Hange stopped him from walking towards their home's direction. "NO! I meant, how much did you pay?"

"Ah... like I said, two bucks each." He said, annoyance still laced in his words.

And that's when it clicked for Hange. "Ah huh! I knew it! Levi! She's into you! She's been giving you a discount in order to get you to pay attention to her! She's been flirting with you this whole time!"

And instead of how a typical girlfriend would act after having found out their boyfriend was being hit on by someone else, Hange looked absolutely elated.

"Why you so happy about that? Are you not afraid that I'll reciprocate her someday?"

Of course they both knew he was kidding. The bond and love they shared with each other, despite being subtle, was very much irreplaceable.

"Because, it means that from now on, I get to stock up on my favourite drinks at a nice price!"

"Tch... you don't even know if she actually lowered the price, Four-eyes. Maybe you got charged extra by accident."

But having stepped into the store and bringing back a drink with her, Hange had confirmed for both of them all they needed to know.

And so, that day forward, it became their little secret. Levi would get Hange her drinks at a discounted price because of a crush the cashier had on him.

At first everything seemed alright, but slowly as time progressed, Levi seemed more distant and dejected every time he returned from the store. Hange seemed to pick up on his change of mood, but wasn't sure what was causing it. So instead she watched on in silence as Levi's presence became more and more cold.

Unsure of how to bring it up, she watched silently, until eventually Levi was the first to bring it up.

"Hange... are you okay with someone else hitting on me? Are you fine of having others perceiving me as single?" Levi asked suddenly one night. They were doing their usual pre-bed night routine as Levi prepped their ten stepped skin care for both of them. Hange resting her head on his lap, a book open in front of her.

"Hm? No... Should I be?" She asked, her eyes still glued to the words on the pages before her.

Levi's hands stilled completely, bringing a silence over them following Hange's words.

"No... nothing." He muttered finally, getting up. "I'm done. Don't go to bed too late." He said before walking towards their shared bedroom, his face concealed by the dark room.

At first Hange sat there in confusion. What was up with him and his weird questions? She thought about going to him and getting an answer out of him, but as her gaze fell over the bottles of her favourite drink sitting by the doorstep, realization fell over her. And her heart shattered.

The following day, Levi was doing the usual run. Head downcast and eyes unfocused, he forced on a smile that didn't reach his eyes as the cashier continued telling him something he assumed was supposed to be funny.

"Anyways, that'd be ten dollars."

The usual conversation... the usual dissociation... the same dull pain he felt at pretending to be interested in someone he had no feelings for.

"If you're free, I've been thinking... maybe we can get to know each other outside of the sto-"

As Levi started handing over the bill, already coming up with a plausible excuse to not go on a date, a hand suddenly stopped him, pulling him back.

"Sorry, I think you've got the wrong price! The price tag reads five dollars for a drink, and we got five of them here. I think- I think you might be undercharging us!" A bright voice chirped out of breath.

"Hange?" Levi asked surprised, turning to see the mess of a woman before him. She was absolutely out of breath, her lab coat was still on her figure, where a bunch of stains of various unnatural colours painted the once white cloth, and worse of all, she had goggles over her glasses, and that wasn't counting the pair that hung from her neck or the one on her forehead.

"Sorry I'm late. Work took longer to finish than I thought." She puffed out, throwing him a wide smile.

The cashier cleared her throat, noticing the gaze between them, not liking how close they seemed. "Uh... I'm sure I put the price right... I'll go check on the price tags after I ring this customer." She said as she turned back to Levi, her eyes still turning to take a look at Hange. "Don't worry about it, pay the usual price you pay."

But before she could continue, Hange inserted herself once more. "No need! I've got the rest of the money here." She said, pulling out a bunch of lose change from her pockets. Some which fell to the floor if not rolling on the counter.

"Oops..."

"Ma'am... I'm sorry, but can you please wait for your turn? I'm helping this customer over here first. I'll get back to you af-"

"We're paying together. These are for her. She's my girlfriend." Levi said.

A stunned silence fell over the three of them at Levi's words. His confession even surprising Hange as it was the first time she'd heard him introduce her as his girlfriend to anyone else other than their family and friends.

There was a certain pride in his eyes as he finally got to call her his in public. He wasn't one for public affection, or making the world know of his business. But there was something that warmed his chest in having others see them as a couple. Of having made it known that Hange was his. And only his.

Hange smiled. "25 should be the full price." She said, picking up the forgotten coins on the counter before interlacing her fingers with Levi's, and rushing out the door together with his hand in hers. The wind carrying her contagious laugh as they made their way to their apartment. Onlookers and everything else be damned.

"Aren't you sad?" Levi finally asked as they crashed onto the floor of their entrance hall after having run all the way up the stairs to their home.

"Over?" She asked breathlessly, turning to look at her lover.

"The fact you'll have to pay more for the drinks. Or at least cut down on them."

Hange chuckled, a bright twinkle of amusement amongst her brown eyes. "It's worth it. I'd rather pay more for my drinks than lose that warmth of yours... I don't want the love of my life to feel like I'm hiding our relationship. Besides... It was kind of sexy having you put claim over me in front of someone who had eyes on you for a long time."

"Fucking unbelievable." Levi grumbled, causing Hange to giggle before rolling over so she was just over his face. A serious look suddenly taking over her features.

"I love you, Levi. You and no one else."

"I love you too, Four-Eyes." Levi whispered back, placing a hand to the back of her head to bring her closer to him. "Who else can drive me as insane as you?"

And with it, they melted into a kiss.

#hange zoe #levi ackerman #aot #levihan #levi x hange #levi x hanji #attack on titan #levihan hc #levihan ff #levihan fanfiction #aot ff #modern day au

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dapppaintingdrywall · 4 months ago

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Wood Painting Services Near Me: Transforming Your Wooden Surfaces

When it comes to maintaining the charm and durability of wooden surfaces in your home or office, professional wood painting services are essential. Whether it's your outdoor deck, interior furniture, or wooden fences, a fresh coat of paint can work wonders. This article explores the benefits of hiring experts, what to expect from these services, and frequently asked questions to help you make an informed decision.

Why Choose Professional Wood Painting Services?

While painting wood might seem like a DIY-friendly task, it often requires expertise to achieve flawless and long-lasting results. Professionals understand the intricacies of surface preparation, such as sanding, cleaning, and priming. They use high-quality paints and finishes to ensure your wood is protected against moisture, UV rays, and wear and tear. By choosing local wood painting services, you also benefit from their knowledge of the climate and conditions in your area, ensuring your wooden surfaces remain vibrant and durable for years.

The Process of Wood Painting Services

When you hire experts for wood painting, they typically follow a detailed process:

Surface Assessment: Professionals inspect the wood to determine its condition and recommend the best approach.

Preparation: Old paint removal, sanding, and filling cracks or gaps ensure a smooth surface for painting.

Priming: Applying a primer enhances paint adhesion and provides a protective base layer.

Painting: Professionals use specialized brushes, sprayers, or rollers for an even application.

Finishing Touches: Once painted, a sealant or protective finish is applied for added durability and shine.

This meticulous process ensures your wooden surfaces are not only visually appealing but also resistant to environmental elements.

Benefits of Hiring Local Wood Painting Services Near Me

Opting for nearby wood painting services has distinct advantages:

Quick Response Time: Local professionals can often accommodate your schedule more efficiently.

Familiarity with Local Conditions: They understand how regional weather patterns impact wood and can recommend the best paints and finishes.

Cost-Effective: Reduced travel costs and the ability to source materials locally often make hiring nearby services more budget-friendly.

Community Reputation: Local businesses thrive on word-of-mouth referrals, so you can trust their commitment to quality.

When searching for “wood painting services near me,” check online reviews and ask for recommendations to find reliable providers.

Types of Wood Painting Projects

Professional wood painting services cover a wide range of projects, including:

Interior Woodwork: Doors, window frames, cabinets, and furniture.

Exterior Woodwork: Decks, fences, and siding.

Custom Projects: Artistic finishes, textured paints, or staining for unique aesthetics.

Restoration: Bringing old or weathered wooden pieces back to life with a fresh coat of paint or stain.

Regardless of the project, experts can tailor their services to meet your specific needs and preferences.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Q1: How much do wood painting services cost?The cost varies based on the project size, type of wood, paint quality, and labor involved. On average, expect to pay $2-$5 per square foot for most wood painting projects.

Q2: How often should I repaint wooden surfaces?Interior wooden surfaces typically need repainting every 5-7 years, while exterior wood may require touch-ups every 2-3 years due to exposure to weather.

Q3: Can wood painting services repair damaged wood?Yes, most professionals offer minor repair services, such as filling cracks, replacing rotted sections, or smoothing uneven surfaces, before painting.

Q4: What type of paint is best for wood?Latex-based paints are durable and easy to clean, while oil-based paints offer a smooth finish. Your painter will recommend the best option based on your wood type and project location.

Q5: How do I maintain painted wooden surfaces?Regular cleaning with a damp cloth, avoiding harsh chemicals, and applying protective coatings every few years can extend the life of painted wood.

Conclusion: Enhance Your Wooden Surfaces Today

Investing in professional wood painting services ensures your wooden surfaces remain beautiful and durable for years to come. Whether you need to refresh your deck or add character to your furniture, hiring skilled painters near you guarantees quality results. Begin your search for “Exterior painting services near me” today and discover how local experts can transform your space.

#wood painting services #wood painting #painting services

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eziojensenthe3rd · 8 months ago

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Midnight Gaming: 50 Reasons Why

So last night I played UFO 50 past midnight....way...way past midnight, checked socials later to find... a couple of things, twitter is looking to change how blocking works so that users you blocked can still see your posts and tumblr ceo and carhammer explosion victim matt mullenweg is being sued for slander by wp engine for refferring to them as a cancer to wordpress.

So I guess i'll cover the news first. Muskrat is looking to change how blocking works so that its less effective at what it does ie blocking people. In a way its like banning someone from your store for being a nuisance, with the potential change coming to twitter essentially allowing those same people to legally loiter outside your shop, staring in through the window. Making your account private will likely be the only way to maintain privacy until that itself gets changed so we'll see how this develops. Verge article below.

Our next bit of news comes from tumblr ceo matt mullenweg, owner of the queerist site on the net, when its not erasing transfolk for merely existing. At some point matt, being the genius he is, decided to go on a tangent and described wp engine as a cancer to wordpress, despite the fact that wp engine have actually given wordpress special preferential treatment before. As a result wp engine are now suing him for slander with their letter addressing this lawsuit. Link here

Honestly? Good for them, hope they win.

So now we go to the game of the evening

..... or games. Yes UFO 50. Now, you've ever heard of Action 52? If you did, was it from the AVGN episode? Cause thats where I first heard of that project. The idea of selling a nes cartridge for over 100 bucks with the promise of 52 games sounds good on paper but paper is flimsy and can be torn and Action 52.... was working on wet paper which doesnt hold up at all. Its lauded as a failure for its game either being broken, bad, derivative or all 3 at once. So when mossmouth, the spelunky devs decided to recreate that idea with the aim of every game being "good". Its certanly an ambitious if not foolhardy idea.

I mean, good is subjective especially to the person making the game. What may be considered good for one person maybe considered crap for someone else. Of course im just being pedantic. In the end you're getting 50 games for barely a third of a full price game. So for this Midnight Gaming post, I thought why not play a bit of all 50 games for this edition? Well, this was a terrible idea since it took till 3:30 in the morning to play a bit of each game and write down notes for them. This isnt really a review, more a first impressions look so i'll post my thoughts from last night (and in brackets i'll write some recent thoughts today).

Ready? Here we go!

Barbuta: not really ideal my kind of platformer (A lot of Barbutas platforming is based on timing and precision across various rooms with a limit of 6 lives. Honestly my thoughts onnthis would be better if I spent more time on it)

Bug hunter: tough to wrap my head around but was kinda neat puzzler. (It took a few goes to realise I can shoot the cubes to create a blast that van destroy bugs and that buying a move replaced a preexisting move and it wasnt just random. Deevolve is very good btw)

Ninpek: why can i spawn right on an enemy after i die, only to die again? (This was a run an gun and there were a few times I spawned onna enemy and died. Again if I had spent more time)

Paint chase: like pole position meets splatoon. New mechanics get added overtime. (It seems that dealing with the red rollers was a necessity since they can easily paint over your blue, especially the grenade ones. I like this one)

Magic garden: like snake but you need to drop off blobs on stars. I ran into a wall too many times. (This took a few goes to understand how it works, its neat as an arcade kinda title)

Mortol: platformer with limited lives, which you sacrifice for platformer, bomb or a block. Grabbing lives a must since lives dont get replinished between levels.

(Funny to see lives you do arrow ritual on get stuck headfirst into a wall)

Velgress: think an upward version of downwell. (Every platform your on crumbles in some way so you are pressured to keep moving but the damn bats can easily buml into you)

Planet zoldath: sort of a zeldalike? You go around an overworld and collect items. You have two slots for equipment, its also a random world so yeah... (you would need to juggle your two equips depending on what you need, also why does one sentient race can speak english but the other needs a translator?)

Attactics: units move per turn forward in a lane. Get your units to the enemy castle to damage them. (You can potentially get yourself stuck in a death spiral and fail if you mess up and cant recover)

Devilition: place mons to create a chain reaction to kill devils but spare villagers. Cant see the blast area of mons once placed so screw you if you forget. (UFO50 has a terminal where you can input codes and one of them is a cheat that fixes the issue with devilition.... why is it a cheat?)

Kick club: very bubble bubble vibes. Kick a soccer ball at sports related items.

(No joke, very bubble bobble vibes)

Avianos: grand strategy birb game. Not really a thing for me but cool concept with worshipping a different ancestor each turn granting different moves. (Not great with grand strategy but this is a cool concept)

Mooncat:very odd controls for a platformer. Still, was fun to time bounces on enemies. (This lil bouncy jelly bean is kinda fun to play once yoj figure the controls out)

Bushido ball: pong but with japanese characters, with some special moves. Yeah this is kinda fun. (Shooting a projectile at the ball does help get it past the guy at times... at times)

Block koala: puzzle game moving blocks. Not my cup of tea honest (pretty sure this type of game was played before on like skygames or playjam?)

Camouflage: puzzle game where you need to camo to sneak past predators and make to the end, collecting extras along the way. Yeahs its neat. (Sun and cloud really just said "your weak as fuck, your gonna die, heres a power to hide like a wee bitch)

Campanella: fly a ufo through levels, slashing some objects along the way. (Dont know where this coffee I was supposed to find along the way where?)

Golfaria: golf rpg like golf story? Wasnt sure where to go, ended up running out of strokes too often.. ehhhh (how do you reset your strokes? I got to one hole but I was still low, the heck was I supposed to go?)

The big bell race: racing version of that saucer game. (Attacking other racers seems a bit iffy and not very effective? Unless you have a powerup to help)

Warptank: control a wall attached tank where you can warp to an opposite wall.

(Yeah this fucks, not sure what else to say)

Waldorfs journey: hop across islands as a walrus, try to reach the end. (The one game I actually beat in this collection)

Porgy: a wee metroid kinda game witha submarine. Submarine a cutey. (Yeah grabbing any extra fuel tank is a mjst of longevity. Sub is a cutey)

Onion delivery: drive a car, reach destinations, dont drive into cars. Kinda not great to steer though. (Dunno seems a bit iffy, if I spent more time....)

Caramel caramel: space shooter where you can snapshot enemies and the enviroment like a photo. Lotta food, why start with 0 lives? (Like seriously why? It seems a bit odd to start on your last life)

Party house: host a party and depend on rng. Do not add mr popular he is an ass who can overflow and cause a day lost.

(Also getting dancers and, cash raising guests and the comedian is important to get that alien for the stars. Theres other scenarios to play through too)

Hotfoot: dodgeball but you control 2 players switching a button, which is also how you pick and throw items. Not really digging it tbh. (Seems a bit iffy to manage both chars with the same button as the pick up and throw. You need to keep an eye on the ring under your player)

Divers: 3 lizard bros swim the depths in an rpg. Gotta love that this is one those rpgs where if you choose all 3 bros to attack one enemie and it dies, the remaining turns are wasted. (Again, more time was needed on this)

Rail heist: sort of a tatics game where you need to move through, plan out how to take out lawmen with out getting shot. (Can get a bit frantic with managing the situation along with the time.

Vainger: sort of a metroid kinda game with a gravity mechanic. Can be a bit tricky to manage but is promising. (Again, more time needed)

Rock on island: caveman tower defense game. This was a lot of fun since you can help throw projectiles at dinos. (The dinos were "cursed with intelligence", hence why they try to kick humans out, just seems funny like, THEY KNEW.)

Pingolf: golf game but with pinball inspirations and graphics. Thats cool as hell, i mean cmon. Also you can dunk the ball down for some control. (this is something you could get "real" good at it with enough practice)

Mortol 2: sequel to mortol, you have a limit of 100 and you can choose different classes, thing is you may not always know what you so at times it may feel like you end up picking the wrong class you need and wasting a life. (Again, more time would've improved my feelings on this)

Fist hell: river city ransom but with zombies. I am not a beat em up kinda guy so I didnt get very far. (Kinda neat to throw a zombie head at another)

Overbold: smash tv rougelike where you can use money to buy upgrades and can raise the stakes for a bigger payout but deal with more enemies. Yeah its alright.

(Betting your money against your own evaluation of your skill, very interesting)

Campanella 2: sequel to the ufo game, here you explore a station and can leave your saucer to walk around or enter caves for a section to get an upgrade. Thing is you are very vulnerable and can die quick when out of your saucer unless you enter a cave, then you need to not take your time or an invincible skull enemy follows you.

(Why can you die from one hit outside the saucer but in the caverns? You have a proper health bar??)

Hyper contender: fighter where you need you get enough rings to win. Block and dodge while hitting your opponent to steal their rings. This would be fun with friends.

(Fuck that guy with the hook claw, annoying ass)

Valbrace: dungeon crawler where combat is real time action. You move, block and attack. Thats freaking cool as hell. Kinda rushing to get all this done over the limit but cool game. (Very cool game)

Rakshasa: run and gun contralike to fight some demons. Each time you die you need to avoid enemies while in spirit form and collect items to live again. Games where you can kill yourself right at the start if you're impatient. Not a fan. (Really was feeling the lateness here)

Star waspir: shootem up, you can pick one of three ships. Thing is if you want powerups you need to get three of the same letters to get it, get one thats different, you only get points and not the powerup. Also they be too close to enemies and their projectiles, making it suicide to get. Nah, i hate wasps and i kinda hate this a bit too. (Kinda frustrating, wasnt a fan)

Grimstone: final fantasy but in the wild west. Yeah you pick 4 characters from the start to be in your posse and roam the world gaining xp in random battles. Thats pretty neat. (I could spend a lot more time on this if I could)

Lords of diskonia: strategy where your troops are disks you need to launch into enemy disks to damage them, kinda like snooker in a way. Managed to win the first battle and sent them to running to base but then they got some reserves and had more gold so they could build up a strong retaliation. I did not have enough units or gold to hire more to survive the rematch. Yeah thats... thats a great feeling to have for your game.... (why do I feel a bit punished for winning a battle? I didnt get gold or units for winning or for falling back to base to recoup? Also I only get to move one space but the enemy moves 2 spaces?)

Night manor: point and click horror game, yeah this is genuinly kinda scary, atmosphere does help build tensions and trying to navigate the manor while running from the killer is a thrill. (Poor Baxter :[ )

Elfazars hats: play as animals from magicians hat. Run and gun sort of stuff but you do have a dodge move which I like a lot. (It has the same power up thing as waspir but now as irritating or unfair)

Pilot quest: im guessing this is the idle game that folks were talking about. I didnt put much time in it cause in a rush but yeah, its an idle game. (Its an idle game, it plays itself... start here I suppose)

Mini and maxi: platformer where you can grow and shrink to explore. You also pick up objects to throw at enemies kinda like super mario bros 2. (Like how you can skip some platforming if you grow, go to where you want and shrink on it to go there)

Combatants: ant strategy game, yeah i dont know how i can play this well. Kinda reminds me of simant. (Needed to spend more time on to understand it better)

Quibble race: you bet on worms to race, you can buy certain items to cripple or protect your bet. Yeah thats the game. (Money management in dirty bookkeeping... ok)

Seaside drive: shooter where you drive a car left and right to avoid bullets and shoot either vertical or horizontal. Shot power depends on your speed so you need to keep moving. (This was pretty fun to play, not gonna lie it was fun)

Campanella 3: its the saucer again but now its a space shooter with a sort of attempt at 3d, ok yeah thats, a bit of a depature but kinda cool. (Its sort of a neat lil game... more time)

Cyber owls: the last game which I guess is meant to be the cheetamen of this collection. Each mission is a different gameplay style it seems and if you fail one you have to select one of your remaining characters to go free them. Why in the hong kong level is it that when you can only shoot forward, enemies you kill can actually one shot you with their corpse if you dont avoid them. Thats fucking stupid, thats is really fucking stupid why did they feel that was a good idea, what the fuck were theg thinking? Its way too fucking late. Goddamn it. Its 3:30 in the morning. Fuck this was stupid. (I was real tired and went to sleep right after, Im still tired as I write and I need to go pick potatoes soon...*sigh*)

This post was probably, like Action 52, an ambitious idea that sounded good on paper but in practice was awful to go through. At the very least for what its worth, UFO 50 is definatly worth your money because even if some games arent great, you'll find some games that are fun to play and again, 50 games for a third of the price for one full price release, is a hard thing to beat.

Thank you reading Midnight Gaming. I am gonna skip tomorrows post to try and recuperate from this post. Feel free to leave feedback or game suggestions. Anons are currently on.

Go to bed folks.

#midnight gaming #gaming #ufo 50 #twitter #tumblr

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flammenxci · 6 months ago

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> Been working more hours and getting better weekly paychecks.

> Temps keep get colder outside, can't open windows for cats anymore.

> HEAVILY considering getting another cat wheel for my girls after seeing a good deal on a big one that every kitty in the house can use.

> I'm want to get another one again because I have the willingness and patience to train a cat to it.

> Did it before with a prior cat of ours that was basically the feline equivalent of my last dog. Ginger tabby/bengal mix. Good fucking god that boy had some ENERGY.

> Could run him on it until he flopped down next to it panting.

> Never forced him to do it after training, do you KNOW how hard it is to make a cat do something they don't want to do without sedation? Next to impossible, it's why vets require them to be brought in carriers.

> Could get him going on it with treats and toys, sometimes just by telling him no and pointing at it whenever he threw tantrums.

> He'd listen to me most is because he recognized that I was assessing his needs and doing something about them. I also never panicked if he tried to throw a fit while being picked up.

> He loved that wheel. Had to replace the track on it twice and keep the rollers cleaned and lubed.

> Other reason I want to replace it is it got damaged when being taken apart and put in storage. Plus I want to get a fresh one the girls can establish as theirs.

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princesspastel8 · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4

Third POV

Three days into Eboni's suspension, and she already wishes to be back in school rather than stuck in this house full of horrors. When her family returned home, she struggled explaining to Melissa why all the bowels and plates were broken. That earned a slap, which caused her lip to spilt open.

The second she's was told to buy replacements with Melissa's credit card while everyone was away at school or work. What made the day more unbearable was that it was Eboni's birthday. Seems like everyone forgot or didn't bother to remember. She questions if she ever heard one of them ask her. So she spent the whole day going on a much needed shopping spree.

During her shopping, the teen could feel eyes following her wherever she went. She knows she has a stalker. In a sick way, she didn't mind. Eboni does always carry her pocket knife in her thigh strap in case the stalker tries attacking her. The thought of someone wanting her so badly to the point of needing to watch her 24/7- brings a pleasurable chill down her spine. Just being wanted is enough for her.

However, when Eboni made it back home after hiding everything she brought- she was faced with a very pissed Melissa. Eboni, however, was all smiles. It was her fault she forgot the teen's birthday - and willingly gave her the credit card. How could Eboni not treat herself? That smile sent melissa over the edge. The two started fist fighting, mostly melissa beating the teen and Eboni taking it. The foster mother was more pissed about not being able to find all the items the girl brought to return them.

Once melssia finally calmed down, she allowed the teen to go up to her room. Its way passed midnight - now her third day of her suspension. Eboni is currently lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She eventually goes into her built-in bathroom to clean up her bust lip and black eye. The teen walks back to her bed, lowering herself to the floor before pushing her bed a bit. She smiles, seeing the hidden door she had found a few nights ago under her bed. She opens it, pulling out a few of the new things she brought herself.

One of those things is a set of rollerblades. The teen is skilled in a lot of things, one of them being roller skating. She recently found a stake park not too far from her home. Eboni would sneak out through her window, going there every other night before her first set of rollerblades finally gave way - so she used the first opportunity given to her to buy a new pair.

The teen also got new sets of piercings, hiding them all underneath her mask. She got dimple, tongue, and snake bite piercings. She also decided to get her back dimple pierced as well, something she always wanted to do. The next step would've been a tattoo, but that would take most of her time out of the day. So, instead, she stole cash from melissa's purse to use for another day.

With a smile, she changes into a skirt - wearing shorts underneath, a black long sleeved shirt - and placed her messy curly hair into two pigtails. She placed her headphones on her shoulders and held her rollerblades in hand before jumping from her second story window. Eboni hums softly during her walk towards the skate park, smiling to herself. She would need this alone time to help clear her head to help ignore the beat down she received from Melissa hours ago.

Once there, she puts on her rollerblades and headphones, blasting 'digital daggers'. With a relaxed smile, she shakes down the ramps - doing many flips and spins in the air. The teen would sing loudly, forgetting all the hell waiting for her back home. It was moments like this that her talents really came to light.

That pleasuring chill flutters down her back, making her freeze. She takes her headphones off, glancing around the skate park. There. Her stalker. Watching her from the woods. Eboni questions why, even now - he has the chance to snatch her up, so why hasn't he? Eboni puts her headphones back on, tilting her head. If the stalker wanted a show, she'll give him one.

Eboni tilts her wheels, doing huge circles around the ring - shorten each. Once she makes it to the middle, she lifts her right leg- spinning around as if she were ice skating. It's really a sight to see. The teen ends her many spins with a spilt, bending her back to the heal of her foot - looking behind herself. Anyone would be amazed at how flexible the girl is.

Her stalker surely was. With a grin, the male quickly disappeared into the darkness of the woods- leaving Eboni a bit confused. The teen uses the wheels on the rollerblades to boost her back to her feet. She stares off into the woods, no longer feeling that stare lingering on her. Eboni suddenly felt lonely. She didn't like it at all.

The teen lights herself a blunt as she shakes a bit more, trying to brush off the loneliness that gripped her by the throat. She's supposed to feel uncomfortable - freaked out that someone has been stalking her, but Eboni's mind functions differently. Due to her lack of much needed attention and affection growing up, anyone showing any form of interest in her would always send her over the edge.

That fact has brought a lot of heartbreaks throughout her school life. The teen never had a boyfriend, let alone kiss anyone. Sure, she had crushes, but the one time she gained the courage to confess ended in a horrific rejection. She was made into a laughingstock, which resulted in Eboni beating said crush to a pulp.

The teen finishes her small blunt, feeling the buzz of it. She chuckles, taking off her rollerblades and putting her shoes back on. She looks down at her phone, the time reading 2am. She hums softly on her walk back home, not noticing how strangely quiet it is around her.

The teen didn't care to climb up to her window and instead walks straight to the front door. She takes a hairpin from her hair, moving to pick the lock. Eboni raised a brow when she felt that the door was already unlocked. A eerie feeling creeps over her as she slowly pushes the door open. Something seriously isn't right.

Once she steps inside, her foot steps on something - no, she stepped on someone. Eboni eyes widen at the sight of her foster brother, Jason, laying lifeless in a pool of his own blood. She's more in shock than she is fearful. Eboni steps over his body, moving further into the house. She turns to look into the living room, seeing the two lifeless bodies of Jackie and Jessica on the couch hand in hand- stab wounds coating their chest.

An odd glint covers the teens' eyes at the sight. She didn't feel sadness. In fact, she feels overjoyed. Someone clearly had the guts to do what she's been longing for. At that thought, a loud thumbing could be heard traveling down the stairs. Eboni rushes towards it, holding back her smile at the sight of Melissa's body laying there with a few stab wounds on her arms and legs. The woman didn't even notice Eboni. Her attention focused on the intruder standing at the top of the stairs.

There stood her stalker in more detail. What used to be a white hoodie is covered in stains, mostly blood. His jet black hair is unruly, flowing in all directions, his crazed red eyes locking onto Eboni's. What stood out the most was his white skin. His skin is ghostly shade of white, but his cheeks were cut into a horrific Cheshire, bloody smile. An unnerving laugh fell from the Male's lips as he slowly walks down the steps.

"Just in time for your surprise!"

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