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#Smart TV set top box

magaboxusa · 7 months

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IPTV Streaming Box is Your Gateway to Endless Entertainment

Unlock a universe of entertainment possibilities with the IPTV Streaming Box. Seamlessly access an extensive library of content, from your favorite shows and movies to live sports events. This device transforms your television into a gateway to endless entertainment, ensuring you never run out of thrilling options to enjoy right from the comfort of your living room. https://www.reddit.com/user/magaboxusa/comments/174g5u8/iptv_streaming_box_is_your_gateway_to_endless/

#settop box #Best iptv streaming media tv box #IPTV Streaming tv box smart #TV box iptv android #online android box #cheapest set top box #Magabox tv box price #iptv box #adroid box tv #smart tv box

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pravalika · 11 months

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Smart TV Market - Forecast (2023 - 2028)

View More @ https://tinyurl.com/7a2wtpcm

According to a Cisco study, in the year 2019, online video streaming will account for 90% of the Internet traffic[1]. The telecommunications marketplace has not missed this update, and capitalized majorly on this factor. Smart TVs, one of the latest and most important electronic inventions, has made entertainment streaming a cakewalk. Smart TV market companies and online streaming services have developed a symbiotic relationship where the latter benefits from the large screens, and easy connectivity, and smart TVs make use of the plethora of options offered by streaming services. The global smart TV market size in 2018 was between $130 billion to $140 billion. The market is also projected to grow at a notable CAGR of 8%-10% during the forecast period of 2019-2025.

Smart TV Market Outlook:

Any television that can be connected to the Internet, and used as a standalone device, is a smart TV. Though companies these days are selling intelligent TVs as a separate product, a regular TV with a set-top box can also be converted into a smart TV. Over-the-top content offered by online streaming services can be streamed seamlessly on smart TVs by connecting to the internet. This service is thoroughly utilized by consumers owing to the on demand streaming media facility that can be enjoyed on a large screen instead of being limited to our laptops, or mobile phones. As a result of China actively stealing production share of the smart TV market, Asia Pacific region leads the smart TV market globally with a regional share of 35%. 46 to 55 inches sized smart TVs are in extensive demand because of their screen size, as well as the accessibility their offer during global sports events like the FIFA World Cup, or the Olympics.

Smart TV Market Growth Drivers:

Rising Demand for Personalized Entertainment

Gone are the days when people would flock to cinema halls, or flip through their satellite TV channels. We have entered the times of online streaming on a big screen. Smart TV provides that facility by providing internet connectivity which helps consumers in subscribing to their favorite online streaming services like Netflix, and Amazon Prime.

Global adoption of advanced technologies, and rising technological advancement will bolster the smart TV market growth.

Smart TV Market Challenges:

The most prominent challenge faced by the market is the taxation of smart TVs. In India for example, smart TVs are placed under the highest tax slab of the Goods and Services Tax. Consumers are supposed to pay 28% of the already exorbitant rates at which the TVs are sold. Relaxation of taxation will greatly benefit the market, and help fight this challenge.

Smart TV Market Key Players Perspective:

Key market players are equipping smart TVs with Artificial Intelligence in order to make the experience more seamless. Consumers can now communicate with their TVs, and more often than not, don’t need a remote control.

Key market players in the smart TV market are Sony Corporation, LG Electronics, Inc., TCL Corporation, and Koninklijke Philips N.V., Haier Electronics Group Co., Ltd, Intex Technologies, LeEco, Panasonic Corporation, Sansui Electric Co. Ltd., Samsung Electronics, Toshiba Corporation, and Videocon Industries Limited.

Smart TV Market Trends:

Smart TV Prices Will Fall Off In The Upcoming Years

Smart TVs share histories of what the consumer is watching with online streaming websites in order to present more relatable content. Interactive advertisement revenue is also shared between the TV companies, and the marketers, thus establishing a symbiotic relationship. Easier access to multiple shows, and similar services elevates consumer interest, which has led to virtually all sold televisions these days to be smart TVs. This will disrupt the market, and lead to lower prices with robust sales in the upcoming years.

Smart TV Market Research Scope:

The base year of the study is 2018, with forecast done up to 2025. The study presents a thorough analysis of the competitive landscape, taking into account the market shares of the leading companies. It also provides information on unit shipments. These provide the key market participants with the necessary business intelligence and help them understand the future of the Smart TV Market. The assessment includes the forecast, an overview of the competitive structure, the market shares of the competitors, as well as the market trends, market demands, market drivers, market challenges, and product analysis. The market drivers and restraints have been assessed to fathom their impact over the forecast period. This report further identifies the key opportunities for growth while also detailing the key challenges and possible threats. The key areas of focus include the types of cheese in the Smart TV Market, and their specific applications in different areas.

Smart TV Market Report: Industry Coverage

The Smart TV Market report also analyzes the major geographic regions for the market as well as the major countries for the market in these regions. The regions and countries covered in the study include:

North America: The U.S., Canada, Mexico

South America: Brazil, Venezuela, Argentina, Ecuador, Peru, Colombia, Costa Rica

Europe: The U.K., Germany, Italy, France, The Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Denmark

APAC: China, Japan, Australia, South Korea, India, Taiwan, Malaysia, Hong Kong

Middle East and Africa: Israel, South Africa, Saudi Arabia

#smart tv market #smart tv market price #smart tv market size #smart tv market shape #smart tv market forecast #smart tv market analysis #smart tv market research #smart tv market report #set-top boxes #IPTV #satellite TV

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works-of-fanfiction · 9 months

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The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader

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Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5.7k

a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x

(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)

“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.

“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.

“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.

“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.

Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.

“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.

“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.

Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”

“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.

Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”

“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”

Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.

Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.

“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then – “

“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”

“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”

Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.

“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.

It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception.

“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”

“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.

“Not even one?”

“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.

He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.

“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.

Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.

“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.

“She doesn’t want – “

“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…

Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?”

The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand.

She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”

Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.”

“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.”

“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all.

“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably.

Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!”

“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.

“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table.

“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.”

Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.

Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.”

“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.

“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted.

“So quick to jump to his defence.”

“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.”

“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience.

“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her.

He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “

“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.”

“You wouldn’t lose - “

“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “

“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.”

She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.”

“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.”

“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “

“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.

Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.

“Please…”

“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.

Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”

He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”

“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.

Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.

Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.

“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.

How could you?

Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head?

He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed.

The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears?

“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?”

“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.

“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?”

“How do you feel?”

This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.

“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?”

“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.”

Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!”

They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.

Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning?

Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade.

“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes.

“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”

“What do you suggest?”

Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?”

“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.

“OK, OK! Bad idea!”

He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.

“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand.

“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”

As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower.

“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back.

“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head.

“Almost…”

He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his.

Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip.

“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks.

“We can stop if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.

Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “

“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry…”

“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”

“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”

“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”

“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “

“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”

She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…

Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.

“Cill?”

“Mhm?”

“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”

“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”

“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”

“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.

“What do you – Oh, right. That.”

She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “

“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”

“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “

“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”

“I love you.”

He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.

“Cheesy, but I liked it.”

Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right. He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy oneshot #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

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corpsebasil · 1 year

Text

Bonnie and Clyde Part 2

Ghostface’s girlfriend may not be a killer, but she’s the brain of the operation.

You lay on the couch, your feet propped against the cushions as you stare at the tv, scrolling through Hulu. You’d never felt so bored in your life. It felt like you’d been on house arrest the past few days. The only time you could leave was between one to four am and even then, Wayne wouldn’t let you do anything but walk around the block.

The front door opened with a rustling noise and you groaned, moving to prop yourself up on your elbow. Ethan entered the apartment, grocery bags on his arms, and gave you a smile as he moved to set the bags down in the kitchen.

“Ethan,” you called out, standing up and following him. “Ethan I cant take this anymore.”

“Take what?” He asked, oblivious to your frustration.

“I feel like a prisoner.” You scoffed, moving around the counter to help him put up groceries. “I swear to god I’m going to lose my mind.”

“This was your idea.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “How are you supposed to be dead if they see you out walking around?”

“But how much longer?” You whined, dropping your head on his shoulder. “I want in on the action.”

“No.” Ethan scoffed, pulling away from you to put a bottle of wine in the fridge. “There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near a knife. Or a Ghostface costume.”

“So Quinn gets one but I don’t?”

“You were the one who said you didn’t want to kill.” Ethan sighed, turning to rest his back against the counter. “Now you’ve changed your mind?”

“I would recreate Saw if it meant I could leave this fucking apartment.”

Ethan laughed and moved towards you, pressing a kiss against your mouth. Then another, then another as you clutched his shirt, holding him to you.

"Relax, okay?" He murmured, biting your bottom lip before he pulled away. "Listen, I'll talk to my dad. You know how he is. But you're the one who's coming up with all the ideas—we can’t risk you.” Then he laughed. “I’m pretty sure Richie would come back from the dead and beat my ass if you got hurt.”

"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I want to be holed up." You argued, glaring at him. “It was my idea for Richie to get with Sam. Mine. I’m the one that found her in Modesto. I’m the one who convinced Amber to join in. Don’t you think I can handle this?”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He said, frustrated. “I’m just saying you’re more useful as the mastermind behind this whole thing.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Besides. You look so much prettier without a knife in you. Sam seems pretty hell-bent on killing us all.”

“Ugh.” You groaned. You went to the couch and flopped down on it.

“The theater shit is happening tomorrow.” Ethan said, walking over to run a hand down your leg. “It’s almost over, okay?”

“I want in, E.” You said, glaring up at him. “I’m tired of waiting for—”

The front door opened and you sat up, staring as Wayne and Quinn entered, a Domino’s pizza box in Wayne’s hands. Quinn immediately rushed over to you and you barely had time to screech before she was pouncing, laughing as the two of you fell off the couch and onto the livingroom floor.

“Bitch!” You gasped, laughing as the two of you rolled a couple of inches and Quinn pinned you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Someone promised me they’d have a Stab marathon.” She said, raising a brow at you. “For inspo. Pizza and a movie?” She wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes but grinned.

“Fine. Fine. Get off me.” You said, sitting up as Wayne brought the pizza into the Livingroom.

"Stop harassing Y/N." Wayne scolded, passing you a plate as Ethan moved to sit on the ground next to you, immediately pulling you onto his lap.

"She doesn't look bothered." Quinn said, sending you a teasing smile as she got herself a slice and turned on the tv. You stuck your tongue out at her, wiggling in Ethan's lap as his arms looped around your middle.

"Stop moving like that." Ethan murmured, nipping the top of your ear as you squeaked. Quinn made a retching sound as Wayne valiantly ignored you, preferring to watch the intro to Stab over watching his son get handsy. "What's your favorite scary movie, Y/N?"

"You two make me sick." Quinn grumbled, and you laughed.

The next night you sat on Ethan's bed as he got dressed, shoving the Ghostface costume into his backpack. He was about to leave to join up with the Core Four, a term that you secretly loathed.

"You sure I can't come?" You asked, pouting as you watched him get his stuff together. "It would be funny. The big reveal."

"If something goes wrong you can keep up the act." Ethan said, moving over to drop a kiss onto your head. "Someone has to make sure we win this time. If we don't come back, you'll say we kidnapped you or something."

"That sounds like the lamest alibi ever." You scoffed. "Kidnapped? Really?"

"Well I don't know, maybe you were kidnapped."

"I practically roleplayed as a human bowling ball when you threw me at Tara."

"You're a talented actress."

"I want to go."

"No."

"Ethan."

"Y/N."

You stared each other down for a moment, his dark expression matching your own, before he pulled his knife out of his backpack and moved closer to you. You ignored the flutter in your stomach at the wicked gleam in his eyes. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, before he slowly lifted his hand to run the tip of his knife across your cheek.

"You're staying here." He murmured, brown eyes fixed on the tip of the blade as he moved it to rest on your bottom lip. The blade was cold and, when your tongue darted out to lick the dangerous point, Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You're just as sadistic as me, you know that?" He asked, putting his knife away as you grinned. "Fucking love you."

"Love you." You breathed back, kissing him hard until a knock hit the door and Quinn said it was time to go. "Fuck em' up, baby." You said, kissing Ethan one last time before he grabbed his bag and left for the theater.

So you sat on the couch when they left, bidding them happy hunting, and scrolled through your phone. And you waited, all night, for Ethan to come home.

BOOYAAA part THREE

tags

@tsukilover11 @user27017201172 @nellyboosworld @gcldtom @xyzstar @iheartemmaroberts @heart-an0n @sadieswifenocaplol @laylasbunbunny @isaidoop @marijulila @just-here-to-read-fanfictions @pumpk1n-writes @burningfanflowercash

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ghostface #scream six

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

Text

Thunder In Our Hearts: You're Losing Me

Summary: A few short weeks before their first holiday together, the reader finds Ben slipping into his old ways...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: This takes place within Part 9 of Thunder In Our Hearts. Enjoy! 😉

_______

You hummed as you stirred the ingredients in the Dutch oven on the cold December day. Things with Ben had been good lately. It’d been about four months since you’d both stopped hunting down people, trying to hide him from the CIA. You simply…were.

For Ben, that meant a whole lot of learning still. He’d been out of the box for a little over six months now and had picked up a few things. He even had his own SUV now for getting around. He understood how to use the TV and get to streaming apps along with some basic use of the internet and a smart phone.

And he prided himself on how well he could cook a full breakfast for you both. You’d even got a smirk out of him when you called him your own Betty Crocker.

But there was still a lot to learn and it wore on him some days. Unfortunately, it seemed like today was going to be one of them.

“Jesus Christ,” groaned Ben, stepping into the house, shrugging out of his winter jacket. He kicked off his boots and left them in the middle of the floor, all while shaking his head. “Your generation is full of fucking pussies, baby. No wonder this country has gone to shit.”

You tore your eyes away from the soup on the stove, annoyance prickling your skin. Yeah, it was definitely one of those days.

“The fucking child working the counter at the auto store didn’t know two shits about the oil I was looking for. Literally the twats only fucking job,” he grumbled, walking into the kitchen and washing up his hands. You tried to let it go. He was allowed to get irritated as much as you were.

You set the spoon on the rest next to the stove and put the lid back on top, the stew having a few hours to go still.

“And then at dealership where I had to go to get the stupid shit, there was, I swear to God, some kid that had to be thirty fucking years old was buying a car with his dad. These little shits don’t know to wipe their own asses.”

You rolled your eyes behind his back and left the kitchen, Ben inhaling sharply, lifting the lid up. He licked his lips and set it back down, either ignoring or not picking up on your own growing annoyance. You sat down on the end of the couch, Ben leaning over the back, strong hands on your shoulders.

“And why the hell is everyone obsessed with these fucking frilly decorations for Chirstmas? It’s fucking stupid. If people want shit they should buy it. End of discussion. Lame ass holiday anyway.”

He squeezed your shoulders gently, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear.

“You’re tense, baby. Let me help you relax.” Strong hands slid down over your shoulders, headed straight for your chest and you’d had enough. You faced him with a glare, Ben narrowing his eyes. “What’d I do?”

“You’re being an ass today. You’re acting like asshole Ben, the one I didn’t like, remember?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “All you have done today is complain about other people, leave the house a mess, hell you even got something against Christmas. It’s fucking Christmas, Ben! No one in the world, even the most redneck backwoods hillbilly, has anything against a strand of fucking white lights. Frilly? Oh come on.”

“First off, they are fucking frilly,” he spat back as you headed for the foyer. “What’s wrong with not liking a stupid ass holiday?”

“Nothing! Hate Christmas for all I care! Plenty of people do. But don’t put it down because of lights or trees or presents. Hate it because your family sucks or whatever. Not because it’s not manly enough for you.”

“Oh fuck you,” he said, getting in your face, leering down at you with a certain visceral that reminded you of your first argument. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Don’t hate everything that’s not part of your toxic masculinity!” His eye twitched and you looked away, past him out the patio door. “For three weeks you’ve been acting more and more like an asshole. I know this is hard for you. I know learning is hard and learning to be accepting and even tolerant doesn’t happen overnight. But Benjamin, I told you once before. I will not live with a man that I’m afraid of. Do not become someone I am afraid of.”

“You have no idea how hard this is!” he shouted, so loud your body shook. You forced yourself to meet his angry gaze, fighting back wetness in your own. “I do everything for you! Every goddamn day I try for you! I’m sorry your worthless piece of shit boyfriend isn’t doing it fast enough for you!”

“I never called you that,” you said quietly, throat thick from fighting back the tears from falling. “Never. All I have ever asked of you is to try and you Ben, these past few weeks you aren’t trying. I am not giving up on you. All I’m asking is you to not give up on yourself. You’re worth it. But you have to want it too.”

“What I want is you to stop hounding me over every little thing every motherfucking day!” he shouted. You tore your gaze away and swallowed before heading for the door. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“For a drive,” you said, putting your boots on, taking your coat off the hook. “For the record, all I wanted to do today was make you homemade beef stew because you haven’t had it since you were a kid. Maybe, just maybe, decorate for Christmas because we both had shitty childhoods and maybe we could have made our own good traditions. But if you don’t want that, Ben, I won’t force that on you. I’m done. I’ll always love you but I don’t deserve to be screamed at for helping you, for still holding up my end of the deal.”

You ripped open the door and threw up your hood without looking back.

It was close to eleven when you got home. You were tired and your stomach felt off from your makeshift dinner of a greasy burger and fries. Least of all did you want another fight with Ben tonight. You just didn’t have the energy for it.

You sighed as you pushed open the door, catching sight of him out of the corner of your eye. Great. But you cut off your own thoughts as your eyes took in the room, darting through the family room and over to the kitchen and dining room.

Hundreds of small lights filled the house. Draped on the wall. Wrapped around the decorated tree in the corner. Over the mantle where two stockings hung.

You knew you were standing there with your mouth open, letting the cold air inside behind you. Ben walked around the couch and shut the door, all while staring at you. He flickered his own gaze down and you caught his shirt wasn’t his usual thermals or t-shirts.

He had on a fucking Grinch sweater. A fucking Grinch sweater.

Your eyes flirted back to his, worried green ones meeting them. His lips parted, words caught in his throat. He swallowed, taking both your hands in his.

“You deserve a better life than this.” He lowered his head. “Than me. But you won’t leave me alone unless I make you go which is what I’ve been doing. I don’t want you to have to teach me everything. You’re wasting away your life on me. I’m not good. No matter what I do, I’ll never be good. I’m always the villian. I want better for you than me.”

You stared at the Grinch on his sweater, at the comically large yellow eyes, the curl of green on top of his head.

“Y/N. Say something. Do something.” You lifted your gaze, his head turned cautiously up, waiting for a response. You stepped closer to him, Ben ripping his gaze away, like you’d burn him.

“Don’t you ignore me.” His head turned back, dropping your hands when you pulled them away. “Why did you do all this if you want me to go?”

“I never said I wanted you to go,” he whispered, cracking a sad smile. “I told you. I want you to want someone better than me.”

“Why did you do all of this?” you asked again, Ben closing his eyes, bottom lip trembling for a split second.

“Because…” he said, scrunching up his face, forcing himself to look you in the eye. “Because you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Because you deserve better but I’m the bad guy and I can’t survive without you. Because you’re my girl. Because I like these fucking frilly lights even though I’m the Grinch. That guy was an asshole too until someone gave him a chance. Give me one more chance. Let me be selfish. Don’t let me lose you.”

“I…” you said, Ben nodding once and lowering his head. You ripped off your jacket and boots, Ben barely lifting his chin as you cupped his cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

Confusion crossed his face as you smiled, wiping away a single tear that slipped free. “Why? I fucked everything up.”

“We still have to work on that self-worth I see,” you said, gently stroking over his cheek. “Benjamin. I love you and I’ll never give up on you. If you want better for me then you become that man because I picked you. I see you becoming him more and more everyday. But this Ben? The one right in front of me? I don’t love him any less than that other man.”

“I was an ass on purpose. I scared you,” he said. “You should-”

“No, you didn’t. But you needed a wakeup call because baby, I know you. I know you want me to hate you some days because you hate yourself. I know you think you trapped me. But you saved me, Soldier Boy. I need you to remember I’m here because with you is exactly where I want to be.”

He closed his eyes, an argument on the tip of his tongue. But he surprised you.

“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered. You kissed his cheek and then his lips, wrapping you arms around him tightly.

“I am. You’re my happy place.”

“Oh god that’s sad,” he half-laughed, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve earned that.”

“Tell that to the guy who decorated the whole house with the frilly little lights,” you said, Ben chuckling. “If you want to leave me Ben you can but never do that again.”

“I promise and that’s not happening,” he said. He hugged you gently, the room quiet for a beat and then another. “I saved your stew. Maybe we can have it for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you said, enjoying the warmth of him around you. “Was today as bad as you said it was?”

“No. But I know how to make you think less of me,” he said, pulling back. “You should still be upset with me.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “We’re not doing that. I know what I want and that’s for you to feel like you can talk to me when you start feeling bad. Please.”

“I’ll try,” he offered and you nodded, knowing that was all he could promise right now. You rested your head against his chest and breathed slowly, his heart thudding away strong and steady. “No.”

You frowned and looked at him, Ben raising his chin, nodding to himself. “No?”

“I won’t try. I’ll do it. No more trying. I will be better. End of story. I’m going to give you what you deserve.”

“Someday I hope you can see how fucking far you’ve come,” you said, Ben shrugging. “Come on. Let’s head to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“Ben,” you said the next morning as you lay curled up in his side. He traced his fingers up and down your arm, offering you a sleepy smile. “Can I give you a Christmas present early?”

“Eh, after yesterday I think I’m on the naughty list,” he said, catching the frown on your face. “Sorry. Working on the self-worth thing. So uh, I guess sure?”

You took his hand and slid it under your shirt over your belly, his eyes narrowing. “Listen.”

He closed his eyes, sliding his hand down slightly. He swallowed once, eyes flashing open. He stared at your stomach for a solid ten seconds before finding your face, lips parting.

“There’s another heartbeat inside of you,” he whispered. “Two more.”

“I know,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. “I found out yesterday morning. I went to the doctor while I was out. I’m eight weeks.”

“Twins?” You smiled and nodded, Ben’s hand still on you. “And they’re mine?”

“Of course they’re yours,” you laughed, Ben swallowing thickly. “Ben. It’s going to be okay. I’m scared too but excited. We-”

“I-Is it a boy? Are they boys?” he asked. You smiled and touched your forehead to his. “Can you know that before?”

“Nowadays yeah, but it’s a little too early to find that out,” you said, his breath hitching. “Do you…want boys?”

“No. No, I don’t want boys,” he said, suddenly jumping out of bed, hands going to his thighs as he leaned over and made a wincing sound. “You have to leave.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, sitting upright. Ben turned around, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“I should not be anyone’s father. I-I’m going to fuck these kids up. I can’t…Jesus Y/N. I’m going to lose my temper and hurt them. Or I’ll be awful and raise them wrong. I can’t ruin their lives. I-I can’t be my father. I can’t-” You put his hand back on your stomach, Ben’s chest rising and falling quickly.

“You guys are going to have the best daddy in the world if he loves you this much already,” you said. Ben wanted to argue more but you shushed him. “Whatever they are, they’re going to be just fine.”

“How do you know that?” he whispered.

“Because we know everything not to do.” He thumbed over your skin, spreading his palm out wide. “I have to ask you to try for me one more time, Ben. Try to believe you’ll be good at this.”

He closed his eyes, a tiny smile crawling onto his lips. “If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have told you I’d be a perfect father. Now…I know I would have destroyed them, made them awful little people like me.”

“Please stop saying things like that,” you whispered. He nodded, touching his forehead to yours.

“If you taught me, I guess these two will be alright. But I have to learn faster. I need to…shit I don’t know anything about babies. How much do they eat? What do they eat? And what the hell do babies wear nowadays? And-”

“Shush,” you murmured, smiling to yourself. “Calm down, super dad. We get to learn this together. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ben’s breathing slowed, his gaze flickering down between you, staring at his hand with a goofy little look. You almost teased him about looking happy for the first time but held back the comment. Whatever was going on in his head right now was healing him, even if it was ever so miniscule.

And that was the best gift he ever could have given you.

“Merry Christmas Ben.”

“Merry Christmas, baby…and babies,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “Thank you. All of you.”

_________

#soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #the boys fanfic #soldier boy reader insert #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x

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lethalchiralium · 4 months

Text

Diamondback | [2]

i may have dropped off the face of the earth for this one but only because i had no direction after the first chapter but i FOUND IT. seven months later LMAO

warnings: stalking, harassment

summary: Pine, Arizona. Your ride home with Captain Riley is… interesting to say the least. Your second day back as a Hotshot proves to be difficult, and a grocery run proves itself to be unique as well.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

At this time of year, you were meant to be posted up in a nice lookout tower, watching a season of an old medical drama series on the box TV you had to smack to turn on. Feet laid up on top of the desk, waiting for your fancy one dollar ramen to cool as you read through a new book. Your shoes were meant to be muddy, your arms aching from having to move furniture around to how you liked it - not hitching a ride home from your Hotshot Captain Simon Riley at two thirty in the morning after his bartending shift. You imagined Simon to own a bike, he seemed the type to have a nice bike. What you did not expect was a nice black luxury car - well kept interior, you felt bad setting your dusty shoes on the floorboard.

He didn’t talk much on the ride home, it didn’t matter to you as you were half asleep in the passenger seat of his nice Mercedes. The warm lights passed by, the sky seemed so much brighter for being around 3am - it was because of all the light pollution, you were used to seeing the Milky Way almost every night.

“You don’t seem like that big of a drinker.” Simon commented, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

You opened one eye, seeing the main road’s neon lights as they waved by. Your head lolled to the left, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

He chuckled a little, you could clearly see one of his white canines as he spoke again, “You’re not a drinker.”

“How so?”

“Don’t seem the type, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, closing them again before rolling your head back to the right. “You have no idea what type I am, Riley.”

“You’re the type to not fight your problems, you comin’ into a bar like mine means you rolled over and showed your belly like a dog.”

If you had any more energy to argue, you would’ve. Where does he get off on assuming shit that isn’t true? You sat in silence, eyes opening again to watch the lights on the main road fly past.

He chuckled once. “No smart quip?”

I am done with this prick. Your head swung to the left, a frustrated huff left your nose before you began, “You don’t know shit about me. If it bothers you so much, I won’t go to your stupid fucking bar again.” You snapped your head back to the right.

“Now, I didn’t say that…” Another laugh left his lips. “You sure have a lot of fire under that facade.”

“What?”

“The ‘I’ve never been hurt before in my life’ look. You fight just like a wildfire, you won’t bend to another man’s thumb.” The turn signal began to click and Simon smirked. “I thought you would have been a dud, one of those lazy fire watchers with nothin’ better to do.” You opened your mouth to retaliate but he continued. “Turns out I was wrong, John was right.” The car came to a stop, he pushed the gear shift to park before he looked at you. “You’re a spitfire.”

You stared at him for just a moment before you opened your door, climbing out into the stuffy night air. You turned around and looked into his fancy car, eyes narrowing. “Have a good night, Captain Riley.” You closed the door to his nice car and made your way to Alex’s nice apartment complex, poking the pin pad with the code he had given you the day before. The door unlocked and you entered, hearing Simon’s car pull out of the lot - you didn’t look back.

The climb up two flights of stairs really made you feel the burn from yesterday, it made you regret staying out late since you had to wake up in three hours for another shift at the 141. You dug the silver key out of your pocket as you approached the apartment, unlocking it and pushing it open as quietly as humanly possible. You toed off your shoes, your hand gently pushed shut the door while the other was pressed against the wall to keep you steady.

“Y/N!”

You jumped out of your skin, almost losing balance as you whipped around to see him, hair tousled and in his signature ratty t-shirt and gym shorts. “Christ, Alex! A warning would be nice-”

“It’s almost three, you imbecile! We have work in three hours!”

You shrugged, scratching your jaw for just a second before you answered, “I was having a drink at that bar you told me to go to.”

“Who drove you home?”

“The Captain.”

“Riley drove you home?” Alex’s jaw almost hit the floor, your eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, he’s in love with you.” He joked, you gave him a confused glare.

You let out a loud laugh of disbelief after just a moment. “All because he drove me home?”

He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. “Never in my many years of existence has Simon Riley dropped off a coworker. Ever.” He stared you down. “Did you suck him off or something-“

“Alex!”

“I’m just asking-!”

You instantly moved past him, anger bubbling under your skin. “I didn’t do anything but get a ride home, so I’m gonna shower and hopefully not slip and crack my skull from exhaustion.”

Alex chuckled, watching you as you disappeared down the hallway. “I’m just kidding!”

You flipped him off before you slammed the door to the bathroom. “Go to bed!”

•••

“Deploy!”

“30 seconds!”

Ripping open a survival shelter after years of not having a need to even have one in the tower was riveting. You were like a kid on Christmas, just without the boastful excitement and energy for wrapped presents, as every drop of your existence in Arizona was used to retrain for what normal people would essentially call Hell on Earth.

“Move, Soap!”

“Rookies on the inside, feet to the flames!”

“Twenty bucks ah beat ye, Gaz!”

“Bottles and radios in your shelter!”

The green training emergency survival shelter crackled as you whipped it in the air, allowing it to inflate to the size it needed to be to cover your body. Your hands held the top as you put your head in, kneeled, then put your feet through as well before completely pressing the edge of the shelter to the concrete floor of the firehouse. Your body was cocooned by the flimsy green plastic, you pressed your cheek to the ground as you heard Simon’s loud countdown to zero.

“Feet to the flames!”

You had only been with the 141 for about 48 hours and you were already exhausted, right down to the bone. With a long run, weight training for hours on end, then going on an even longer run, packed to the brim with gear. You didn’t have time to reminisce on how a Pulaski axe felt strapped to your fifty pound rucksack, you only had the strength to make sure you didn’t pass out on a lonely trail in the middle of the desert. You definitely hated being thrown into carrying a rucksack, but such is life - throwing fifty pound rucksacks at your face until you move states and completely destroy your very stable life. Ah, cheating dirtbags. Remind me to never go for a J named piece of shit ever again.

“If we have to deploy,” The bottom of your green cocoon rumbled as a hand shook it, the now familiar voice of Price boomed throughout the exercise room. “The fire’s gonna sound like a hundred freight trains goin’ right over you.” The shake of your small tent was only a couple of seconds before you could hear someone else’s being rustled as well. “Proper deployment of your survival tent will save your life.”

“It’s gonna get hot, this will be the only oxygen you have. Keep that seal as flat as you can to the ground, or else the fire will suck out your only breathable air.” Simon’s voice was farther now, you could tell both of them were shaking the tents to simulate the sound of the flames. Your hands moved to the edge of the plastic next to your elbows, you grabbed it and pressed it flat against the concrete - you kept your breathing steady. “People have died from incorrectly deploying these tools. Keep your feet in, keep the seals flat, and you will ensure your survival.”

The sound of boots against concrete was deafening between you and your fellow Hotshots, no room for disobedience or miscalculation. Every movement you would make when you’re fighting a wildfire needed to be calculated and structured, that’s why Hotshots stayed in a line - everyone needed to stay together to ensure everyone stayed alive.

“You will only open your survival tent when you are given instruction to do so by both Captain Riley and I.” A pause. “We will be calling over the radios to identify everyone, going by last name. If you do not hear from either of us, wait five minutes. The worst of it will be over, waiting that five minutes ensures you won’t be injured when you leave the safety of your tent.”

You had only experience with one wildfire before, the Juniper Wildfire. Scraping a boundary in the dirt, digging it out to create a line between the enemy and the cities that were in line to be the fire’s next source of fuel. Destroying low lying brush and vegetation, tossing it far away from the line - you remembered how intense the heat was getting as the Juniper fire approached your team’s position, the way your old Supe called out for everyone to back away and get back to safety with a gruff and resounding yell. We can always replace equipment, but we can never replace you. That was drilled into your head at every turn.

The footsteps stopped. “Alright, come on out.”

Sweat beaded at your hairline, you whipped the green practice tent over your head as you swiveled yourself to sit straight up. You glanced to the right, Alex was beside you and he gave you a curious look. You looked away, seeing that Price and Riley were standing at the head of the mass of Hotshots, Riley holding a clipboard and a stopwatch.

A voice came from your left, calm and quiet, yet precise - “You are doing well, Sirena.” You looked to the source, a beautiful woman with pin straight black hair tied back into a short ponytail. You gave a smile, she winked before nodding towards the Supes. You followed, making direct eye contact with Simon. He looked away first, scanning the rest of the firehouse.

“Here’s the thing,” Price started, his arms crossed across his chest. He tapped his fingers against his bicep, his eyes watched the room like a ravenous hawk. “We’ve got another month of mandatory 40 hour weeks, then it’s heads or tails if we’re bumped up to year-round.”

A chorus of mumbles hummed through the large engine bay, you pulled off the rest of the green plastic so it rested beside you, as did almost everyone else. The breeze from the open bay door,

“The way all of you have been working hard, no matter if you’ve been here for five years or five minutes,” John glanced at you before glancing to another hotshot across the room, you remembered his name being Soap. “We will most likely get our foot in the door.” He looked over his crew again before clapping together his hands. “We’ll see you all on Monday.”

You physically slumped down as the room began to hum with chatter, you looked to your left to talk with the woman who spoke to you earlier but she was gone - already across the room. You weren’t given much time to think on it when Alex walked up, holding his hand out.

“You look like shit.”

You glared at his dumb face, he smirked. “You look like a man with no bitches.”

“Who pissed in your corn flakes?”

“No one, we don’t have any fucking corn flakes since you ate them all.” You grabbed his hand, he easily helped you to your feet.

“You’re goin’ to the store.” Alex patted your arm, dropping his truck keys in the hand he grabbed of yours. “I’m helpin’ Riley out with fixing the damn garage door.”

“You’re a-“

“L/N, surprised you’re even standing.” Gaz chuckled as he approached, you gave him a confused look. “You’ve been workin’ nonstop the past two days. Haven’t seen a fire watch go from sitting around to hotshot work that quickly before.”

You shrugged, hand instantly coming up to knead the side of your neck. “Considering I was a hotshot before, I’d hope I was bouncing back well.”

Gaz smiled at you, patting your shoulder. “You’re doing damn well. Go get some rest before Alex drives you nuts.”

“Trust me, he always is.” You smiled back, ignoring Alex’s kick to your calf. Gaz nodded before he turned away, your hand squeezed the car keys in your hands. Time to go grocery shopping and hopefully drop dead in Aisle 7.

Your body felt like magma, moving sluggishly under intense weight and pressure - and you were just pushing your cart at the grocery store. A pack of underwear, a carton of eggs, a case of flavored electrolyte water sat in your small cart; you plucked a bag of your favorite chips and settled them on top of the five pack of underwear that was ridiculously priced. It’s not like you can go back and get any of your stuff at a time like this; work was much more important than material things that could be replaced. That and it’s a delicate game with Justin, he would definitely draw up some bogus restraining order. A part of you cringed, knowing he was probably doing just that as you walked around this small supermarket. Your phone sat in your hand, screen black from no use before it pinged.

Alex

pick up some cheese plz

Alex

nd mustard

You

Chips too?

Alex

You

What else

Alex

buns

You

And hot dogs?

Alex

no more hot dogs

soap bought me 300 hot dogs 2 wk ago

too many hot dog

eating all hot fog 2nite

*dog

🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

“Keepin’ your nose in your phone is how you crash into a shelf, Firewatch.”

You jolted from your conversation with Alex, head darted up to meet the gaze of your Superintendent. He was in the dirty t-shirt he had worn all day, arms crossed on his chest. You looked around the aisle, you had moved yourself to the side to not be in the way a long while ago. A gentle smirk invaded your lips.

“I’m shopping, not working.”

Price smiled, teeth pearly white. “You were nudging yourself down the aisle, you’re going to hit the display.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to the giant cardboard hot dog bun display at the end of the aisle. You shrugged.

“I need to go there.”

“And take down the display when you do it?”

You gave him a deadpan look, he laughed a little.

“How’re you settling in with Alex?”

You rolled your eyes, your own tired laugh left your lips. “The only thing he has to eat in his fridge are hot dogs, apparently.” You took a look at the red container of Folgers Coffee Grounds in his hands before asking, “Aren’t Brits supposed to be all about tea?”

Price glanced down at the container before he answered, “Simon is. I prefer coffee.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand but you ignored it, shrugging as you remarked, “Not very British of you, Supe.”

“John.”

There was a glimmer of warmth in his blue eyes, your diaphragm fluttered for just a moment before you murmured, “What?”

He grinned then, a mischievous glint in his eye that disappeared after just a millisecond. “It’s John. Outside of work.”

You nodded curtly as you looked down the aisle again, you looked back to John. “Didn’t expect you to be one for informalities outside of work.”

He shrugged briefly. “It’s whatever you would like to call me.”

“John is fine.”

“I expected you to have more than just eggs to eat.”

“I’d make you dinner if I didn’t just move down into my best friend’s bare minimum apartment.” You cringed a little before correcting yourself, “As a thank you. For-”

John laughed a little, putting his hand up and chuckling, “It’s all right, I get what you mean. I might take you up on the offer.”

You opened your mouth to speak but you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You gave John an apologetic look before looking at kt, reading the name of your ex on the screen. You looked back to him, “I’m sorry, John, I’ve- I’ve got to answer this.”

He nodded. “No problem. I’ll see you on Monday.” He waved a little before walking away.

“Bye.” You said quietly, hoping he heard before you answered the call. You put the phone to your ear, ready to hear pleading and crying. “What do you want?“

“Where the fuck did you go?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, that was a completely different answer than you expected. He watched you leave. You didn’t even take your car. Why would he care? “None of your business.”

“It is my business when my fiancé has been gone for two whole days with her location off.”

Are you fucking serious? “We’re over.”

“No, we’re not. You’re being a child.”

“Me? I’m-“ You take a quick breath, hands starting to shake with anger. “What is the purpose of your call?”

“I need to know where you are.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, you’re not at your mom’s.”

Your eyes widened, hands gripping the shopping cart tightly. “You went-“

“She doesn’t even know where you are. I’ll start going through your friends.”

Genuine fear ran through you then, your expression dropped but not as hard as your stomach. You were sure Justin wasn’t violent before, but now? You didn’t know the man on the other line, he sounded like a stranger. A furious and vengeful stranger.

You wiped your nose, wiggling it to try and stop yourself from crying out of fear. “I don’t want to see you.”

“But I need to see you.”

“No, you don’t.” You felt bile rise in your throat, a heavy presence in the front of your head - a migraine. You were annoyed, but damn, were you scared. There’s something to be said about feeling like the person you love won’t hurt you, yet here he is - making threats. “I don’t want you here.”

There’s a pause, you hear a thud on the other side of the line and glass breaking. “Tell me where you are.”

“No.”

Another thud, thud, thud, then the angry shout of your name right before you end the call. Your phone stayed pressed against your ear for just a moment before you let it gently fall, slipping it into your pocket. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, embarrassed that you were crying in public. You were quick to push your cart away, hoping all would be okay. Hoping Justin didn’t know where Alex lived. Praying would be a better descriptor, but pleading with God was what you were truly doing. The only thing you missed as you walked away was a concerned John Price in the aisle over, hands gripping the coffee tin like a vice.

taglist:

@all-good-things-have-an-ending @warners-wife @random0lover @blingblong55 @local-spidey @sanfransolomitatm @frazie99 @khadeejarh @domaniquessidehoe2 @iaur @graciereads @urfavoritepookie @ghostwifeyy @live-love-be-unique

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blogdays · 10 months

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İptvamsterdam - Platin

IPTV oder Internet Protocol Television ist ein Dienst, der Benutzern den Zugriff auf Fernsehprogramme und andere Videoinhalte über das Internet ermöglicht. Im Gegensatz zur herkömmlichen Fernsehübertragung, die auf Radiowellen oder Satellitensignalen basiert, nutzt IPTV Internetprotokolle, um den Zuschauern Inhalte zu liefern. Um auf iptv kaufen ugreifen zu können, benötigen Kunden in der Regel eine Internetverbindung und ein kompatibles Gerät, beispielsweise einen Smart-TV, einen Computer oder eine Set-Top-Box. Diese Technologie hat in den letzten Jahren an Popularität gewonnen und bietet den Benutzern zahlreiche Vorteile. Einer der Hauptvorteile von IPTV ist die große Auswahl an verfügbaren Kanälen und Programmen. Mit IPTV haben Nutzer Zugriff auf zahlreiche, auch internationale Kanäle, die eine vielfältige Auswahl an Inhalten bieten. Darüber hinaus bieten viele IPTV-Anbieter Programme in High Definition an, was zu einer hohen Bild- und Tonqualität führt. Darüber hinaus ermöglicht IPTV Benutzern das Anhalten, Zurückspulen oder Aufzeichnen von Fernsehprogrammen, was für mehr Flexibilität und Komfort sorgt. Diese Funktionen machen IPTV zu einer beliebten Wahl für diejenigen, die ein anpassbares und interaktives Fernseherlebnis suchen. Besuchen Sie uns für Germany IPTV in Deutschland.

IPTV

İnternet Protokolü Televizyonu anlamına gelen IPTV, izleyicilere video ve ses içeriği sunmak için internet protokollerini kullanan bir dijital televizyon yayın teknolojisidir. Anten veya çanak anten gibi fiziksel altyapıya dayanan geleneksel kablo veya uydu TV'nin aksine, IPTV bir internet bağlantısı üzerinden çalışır ve kullanıcıların içeriği doğrudan cihazlarına aktarmalarına olanak tanır. Bu teknoloji, sayısız avantajı ve faydası nedeniyle son yıllarda popülerlik kazanmıştır. IPTV'nin en önemli avantajlarından biri esnekliği ve rahatlığıdır. IPTV ile kullanıcılar, canlı TV kanalları, isteğe bağlı filmler ve TV şovları ve hatta uluslararası programlar dahil olmak üzere çok çeşitli içeriğe erişme olanağına sahiptir. Ek olarak, IPTV hizmetleri genellikle duraklatma, geri sarma ve hızlı ileri sarma gibi özellikler sunarak kullanıcıların izleme deneyimleri üzerinde daha fazla kontrole sahip olmalarını sağlar. Ayrıca IPTV'ye akıllı TV'ler, akıllı telefonlar, tabletler ve bilgisayarlar dahil olmak üzere çeşitli cihazlardan erişilebilir ve her zaman ve her yerde erişilebilir hale gelir. Hizmetlerimiz için web sitemiz sizlere yardımcı olacaktır.

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corvennite · 6 months

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simon riley x reader (fem & black coeded!)

cw: just pure fluff and him calling u 'poppet' and 'honey' (very short btw!)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Simon was an amazing boyfriend, on the contrary of what many people who only knew him from his job thought. He was sweet, kind and patient with you — well, he tried his best always. The weekends were always reserved for you both, he didn't like going out that much either way thinking that parties got boring too fast and some restaurants were just not it, besides, both of you preferred the cozy and fresh air of your home.

You were laying on the couch with that giant of a man on top of you, bare chest and arms showing off those tattoos he took pride in since he knew you loved them so much. His eyes were focusing on the TV show he picked up, something related to. His hand went to your hair tugging on one of your curls, he flickered around his finger and took to smell it moving his eyes up to yours.

"did you change your shampoo?" he asked a bit confused, smelling it again.

"hm? I did, why? you didn't like it?" you looked at him, furrowing your brows and seeing how he toyed with your hair.

"I did ye', it smells like cherries..." he smiled briefly, gorgeous brown eyes looking up at you.

He sat up a bit, his hands on your waist almost tickling but only rubbing the skin up and down, he took the view of you as he always enjoyed. His hand came to rest softly on your thighs, playing around with the shorts you wore, distracted.

"you know I— I was downtown yesterday with Johnny, I bought a thing for ya''. he said looking at the TV, fist closed hitting softly his open palmed. He seemed a bit unsure.

"oh, a gift? where's it?" he could feel the smile on your lips, teasing as you crossed your arms.

Simon looked down at you for a brief second before standing up and going towards the first floor, soon enough he came back with heavy steps and handed a box at you. All tied up with a cute ribbon and nice package, he put so much effort into these things, it was heart filling.

Sitting up on the sofa you smiled at him, taking the package from his hand delicately and placing down your lap. He was anxious to see your reaction, he always got a bit nervous picking things up for you since he was scared you wouldn't like it. Your fingers undid the ribbon, pulling up the box cover, it was a bracelet. A pure silver one with beautiful red gems and looked so damn expensive, your eyes widened, he sat down and looked into your eyes then back down to the gift.

"oh my god, Simon..." you said a bit in awe, usually you didn't receive gifts like this, that fancy, so it was new. "this looks too expensive you shouldn't—"

"sush, none of that now doll, just bought because it would match well with your pretty skin and that earrings set you have too." he reached out to the box, taking the bracelet with care in his rough pads. "gimme your wrist."

You extended your wrist as he said, Simon opened the bracelet and put it on you. It fitted perfectly, your brows furrowed with a bit of confusion, how did he know your wrist size?

"since when you know the size?" you asked, smiling at him and checking the iced bracelet out. such a pretty sight.

"got keep an eye on my poppet, so, what do you say?" he waited for your answer, arms crossed checking your wrist with a smudge.

"I think you're pretty smart, Simon Riley." you teased, putting the box away from your lap. "and I think, you deserve a gift too..."

You leaned against his frame, his arms opening to welcome you into a warm embrace around your waist, soft giggles before diving into a passionate kiss. He was a passionate man after all, even if the gems on your wrist cost thousands, you were priceless to this man, but he liked to keep pretty things like you shinning.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #x female reader #x black fem reader

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alloverthegaf · 2 years

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hi everyone I know I’ve been MIA forever I’m sorry but let me make it up to you by telling y’all the story of our mystery visitor.

A couple of months ago I woke up at night every now and then to hear meowing outside our window, but I never saw the culprit, and eventually forgot about it.

A week or so later we left out a pizza box with a slice left in it. Next morning Ron gets up for work and wakes me up to find out what the hell happened in the kitchen.

Naturally I, the country girl, started completely freaking out because I was imagining all the different creatures that could be secretly living in our house. Ron, the city boy, thought this was hilarious. I did not, because I was busy imagining waking up to a possum or a wild rat sitting on top of me in bed.

We did more investigating that afternoon and found little dirty paw prints on his computer desk, and the sink counter in the bathroom. Too big to be a rat, small enough to still be a possum, or a small cat.

Over the next week, we notice more small signs that SOMEONE is exploring our house in the midnight hours, but no more clues.

Then, one night, I’m sitting in our bedroom straightening my hair, and notice movement out of the corner of my eye. I look to the doorway and see a dark, bushy tail disappearing into the main bedroom, which we haven’t moved into yet because we haven’t set up my bed from home yet (different story). I quickly run and close the main bedroom door, then run to the entertainment room where Ron’s gaming and shout “I CAUGHT IT”.

I rush him to the bedroom and we open the door, and nothing’s there. That room permanently has a window open for an old air con vent, so clearly the intruder escaped.

At this point, obviously, I have come to the conclusion of cat.

We go away for the weekend (ANOTHER story, so romantic omg), and when we get back, we set up the bed and move into the main bedroom.

A week later my friend shows up on my doorstep crying and holding her 2 year old (oh my god another story I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long) and later we’re hanging out the back and chase the toddler back inside. When we all come out, her little snack pack of salami and cheese is missing all the fucking salami. I’m like “THE CAT!! IT WAS THE CAT!!”

We still have not properly met our regular visitor.

Then we have an irresponsible moment and buy a smart TV for the bedroom. I’m sitting in bed watching youtube and it happens. WE MEET.

He jumps right into the bedroom like it’s his own domain. We finally have our moment of true contact. He sniffs my hand. I pat him. He tries to bite me. He butts his head against me asking for more pats.

I gently coax him into letting me pick him up so I can bring him to Ron, who’s gaming online with the guys. I enter the room, call out “Ron!” and he looks away from his FPS and goes “...oh boy.”

Next he’s explaining through his mic that he thinks I’ve just adopted this stray cat.

Thing is I don’t think he’s a stray. He looks well fed, fairly groomed, he’s so comfortable with me.

As you can see from these photos from the NEXT night, where he is getting settled in our bed.

But he also gets very enthusiastic about food, and his claws are getting pretty long and sharp.

It’s maybe possibly not helped by me, encouraging him, and cuddling with him. Admittedly most nights since the first, Ron has come to bed and had to move the cat from his spot.

Since then, I have told Ron’s family about it, who all want me to have the cat because they know how much I want one, and gave me all the possible ways about how it might be homeless and need me to care for it, and basically they got in my head and I started fucking FEEDING him.

So now he’s coming by earlier during the day and leaving later and he keeps butting his damn head against me looking for pats and it’s so fucking CUTE and he has the most high pitched meow.

A couple of nights ago I was having a bad day and Ron wasn’t home and I had cereal for dinner, and no food left for the cat, and I got super stressed out about him clearly waiting for food and reaching for my bowl so I put him outside and closed our bedroom window. When Ron joined me in bed later that night I told him and said I felt really bad but also less stressed about this cat that wasn’t mine, and he was like “hmmm the cold front’s supposed to start tonight” and I got so guilty and stressed about the cat that I couldn’t relax until we heard him jump in from the bathroom window lmaooo.

I have since talked to some neighbours, and the next step is to get him scanned/take him to the vet to see if he’s microchipped. If he is, I’ll contact the owner and talk to them about what’s going on. If he’s not, I’m adopting him and spending my month’s salary on cat things.

Also, I’ve nicknamed him Boof. Because he likes to boof his head against me and also because he is clearly a boofhead.

And EVERYONE who even slightly knows me knows I’ve been dying to have a pet, especially a cat, but I’ve been waiting till the new year to make sure I’m ready and financially stable enough. And out of nowhere this cat starts just forcing his way into our lives. About a week after I bonded with Boof, I was explaining the situation to one of Ron’s friends in the car on the way to dinner, and said how I’d been wanting a cat for so long and suddenly this one appears, and Ron interrupted me to say “you didn’t manifest this cat” and I’m like “but I think I MANIFESTED THIS CAT”

If I do end up taking him in, we’ll be modifying the house so he can’t get outside without a leash or something anymore, and I’ll be doing everything I can to make sure he’s still properly stimulated at home. We live on a busy intersection so there’s no alternative for me. If we do find an owner, I will sadly but earnestly ask them to try to keep him inside from now on, not only for his safety from traffic, but also because I don’t want the responsibility of something happening to him while he’s with me and he’s not mine.

I’ll update y’all as we go. But whatever happens, I feel very blessed to have met and bonded with Boof.

#ramblings #non fandom #long post #alloverthecamera

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iptvsubus · 1 year

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magaboxusa · 7 months

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How to Set Up Your IPTV Streaming Box for the Best Experience

Enhance your entertainment with an IPTV streaming box. Connect it to your TV, ensure a fast internet connection, and install your favorite IPTV apps. Customize your channel lineup, optimize video settings, and control it effortlessly with a remote or smartphone app. Enjoy the best IPTV experience with ease and convenience. https://www.quora.com/profile/Magabox/How-to-Set-Up-Your-IPTV-Streaming-Box-for-the-Best-Experience-In-the-age-of-digital-streaming-traditional-cable-TV-is

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silvervine16 · 5 months

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Developing a Website for WebTV

It will likely not be finished before the end of the year, but I'm going to start work on making a WebTV version of my website.

If you don't know what WebTV is, it is basically a way to browse the web in the 90's to Early 2000's using a CRT Television Set. Imagine if you can convert that bulky TV that only did 480p into a Smart TV. That is what WebTV is, later known as MSN TV after Microsoft brought them out.

I do understand that it's obsolote and perhaps not considering worth it, but believe it or not, I have done it in the past, making a WebTV version of my site using Linode. I did it for two reasons:

To make my stuff accessible for anyone that are still using the WebTV/MSN TV set top boxes, as a little bonus/curiousity, even if my website ends up being used as nothing more than just to test if it works.

Because I want to. I like to think developers make stuff on older hardware because they want to. It just pleases them.

I have since been able to host my own website with a Raspberry Pi since then, so all limitations in regards to storage and content is gone.

Now then, since I switched to Linux, and I am not sure how compatible WebTV-Emu (from MattMan) is with WINE, but I do know that the official MSN TV emulator works well with WINE, so I'll be using that in the meantime for debugging and all that jazz.

I don't actually any experience using WebTV mainly because I was born at the time when they were still selling, and by the time I have heard about them, they were long discontinued. But the concept sounds so interesting and cool, considering that back then, Smart TVs were not much of a thing, or at least, browsing the web from the television instead of a computer.

I'll likely be livestreaming myself working on the WebTV version of my website tomorrow, so catch me there at around 5:30 PM or 6:00 PM Central Standard/Chicago Time.

I wonder to myself if I will break this habit of mine on working on the same stuff and instead work on something new...

#webtv #crt tv #html #oldschool #website #internet #web design #coding

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xtremehdiptv2023 · 1 year

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Xtreme HD IPTV - Best IPTV Service Provider In 2023

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