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a-froger-epic · 3 years

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Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

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I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

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J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 12

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: You want to make a run into town, but you're forced to take one of the Guardians with you if you want to leave. Guess who get's the pleasure of annoying you? If that wasn't bad enough, someone decides to show up at your door...

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: For my records, this is day 17 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 6,751

"Where you going?"

You turned and looked towards the source of the voice, Peter's voice, coming from a door to the kitchen. You had just grabbed your keys from the kitchen counter and you were finishing up the short list on your phone.

Obviously you had intended to quickly run your errands the other day when you planned to take the raccoon corpse into town to be tested, but when Fury showed up having brought his own doctor and lab to test the raccoon on site, and also sentenced you to wearing your arm in a sling, you obviously hadn't done that.

It had been a couple days since then, you having wanted to get used to the sling a little bit before attempting to drive. You knew it still wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do, but you really wanted out of the house.

"Just running into town," you say, not paying him much mind.

"Why?" he asked, his tone weighting the word, almost as if he wanted to tell you that you weren't allowed.

You look up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Because I need to? Ya know, check the mail, pick some stuff up, post a few bills?" You knew it could all wait, and the bills could be paid online if you really needed to, but he probably didn't know that. "Unless you need something I really don't see what it is to you." You weren't meaning to sound like a dick, but he was acting weird. You didn't like his tone, and his weirdness was only emphasized when you start to approach the doorway to exit the kitchen but he didn't move.

His eyes briefly went to your arm in the sling-brace. "Don't you think you should be taking it easy?"

That's what it was. Knew it. You roll your eyes so hard one might think they'd get stuck. "I'm literally fine." You make a shooing motion but he still doesn't move. Sighing, you make your way toward the other door, only to hear him jogging up the hall to meet you there, the sound making you pause before completing the distance, rolling your eyes before continuing on to see he had indeed done just that. You awkwardly cross your good arm with the one in the sling. "Can I help you?" you say irritably.

Gamora entered the kitchen from the other doorway and you looked to her. "Can you please make your boyfriend stop being annoying?" you ask.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," she quipped with a slight smile, "Why? what's he doing now?"

By now Peter had entered the kitchen through the doorway he had been blocking. He ignored Gamora's quip about him being forever annoying and said, "She's trying to leave, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Well, lucky for me, you're not my boss," you say, admittedly a bit childishly.

Peter then donned a smug grin. "You're right. She is." He nodded in Gamora's direction, referring to the task Fury had assigned Gamora, essentially making her your babysitter as punishment for you neglecting to seek medical attention for your arm.

Your nostrils flared in irritation at him bringing it up and Gamora gave him a look that clearly stated she was uncomfortable. No one had mentioned the incident since the first day. You, because you didn't want to be reminded Fury was treating you like a child, and the others for pretty much the same reason, seeing no reason to provoke you, especially since you were seemingly behaving. (Again, aside from Rocket, but you had taken to keeping your earbuds in for most of the time, so if he did act like a dick to you it often fell on deaf ears.)

"Peter, I really doubt Fury intended for us to keep her locked inside." Gamora said, having assumed Peter was only wanting to refuse to let you go out for a walk, which she didn't understand, because he hadn't said anything when you took one the other day.

"Well I really doubt she's supposed to drive like that."

Finally understanding the issue Gamora grimaced. Peter was probably right.

Just then Yondu and Kraglin came into the kitchen looking to make something to eat, but saw the tense atmosphere.

"What's goin' on?" asked Yondu with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't heard any fighting coming in, but the way you were standing between Peter and Gamora almost implied someone was getting into it.

Peter spoke up, stating how you were looking to make a run into town and how he thought it was a bad idea for you to drive, only he phrased it to group him and Gamora together as having the thought, which prompted Gamora to say back to him that she actually hadn't given her opinion on the situation yet.

Yondu eyed you, or more specifically the brace on your arm. "Can ya drive like that?"

"Yeah." you reply. It was true, the arm in the brace wasn't the one you'd need for changing gears or signaling, so you should be fine, even if truthfully it'd be better if you didn't.

Yondu shared a glance to Kraglin and then shrugged. "Don't see a problem then." He turned toward the pantry, Kraglin following his lead, before he added, "Long as ya take Quill with ya."

You blinked. "Excuse me? Why would I- That's not- I'm not-" You were caught off guard and were now sputtering, clearly not thrilled with his addendum.

Yondu grinned at Kraglin, who was wondering where the elder was going with this, before saying nonchalantly, "If you're too nervous to take a passenger like that, then ya don't need to be going alone."

"I didn't say that!" you countered, pushing down the fact that the thought actually had entered your mind. "Maybe I just don't want to be annoyed by him- and I actually don't know if I can take him. That was never discussed." Again, this was also true. The topic hadn't come up. You had no idea if they were allowed to leave the property. Sure, for some it seemed obvious that they couldn't go into public, but you truthfully had never asked and had consequently never been told.

"He's Terran. Not like you'll run into issue there. I s'pose we could always call yer boss and ask..." His tone was laced with a grin as he turned back to face you with a Terran fruit he'd come to enjoy. A pear, he believed it was called. He was sure you wouldn't go for calling Fury, and he was right.

"No, we don't need to do that," you say irritably. Last thing you wanted to do was call Fury for something like this when he was already unhappy with you.

"I do think it'd be better if someone went with you," Gamora finally spoke up. "It couldn't hurt, at least." She was actually leaning towards the "don't let the Terran with an injured arm drive" party, but part of her believed you'd probably be fine and wanted to soften as much conflict as possible. Being transported in SHIELD vehicles she had seen how the insides operated, and it didn't look so complicated that you'd need both arms. It's not as if you were piloting a ship, and if you did wind up needing help, she was sure Peter could figure the vehicle out well enough.

You give her a mournful look and Yondu speaks again.

"But if yer still set on goin alone, I'm sure Gamora there won't mind callin' that Fury feller. Bet ya just wanna get away so ya can take that brace off without gettin in trouble," he said cooly with a grin. Catching the frown Gamora threw his way he added, "An' if she don't, I can always do it myself."

You tilted your head at the man, expression a mix of confused irritation. "First off, no, I'm not just leaving to do that. Secondly, who do you think you are? My mom?" you snarked.

"Nah, but yer acting like a kid. Somebody's gotta knock some common sense in that stubborn head of yers." Yondu replied, unfazed by your attempted insult as he took a bite of the pear and nodded once more to your injury.

You didn't get it. Why would he care? Why did any of them care?? Was it guilt? Because you wouldn't have been injured if they weren't there? You wanted to ask but settled for just sighing in defeat. You looked Peter over. He wasn't wearing a shirt with any alien writing on it, so at least he wouldn't get any funny looks for that. "Fine," you relented. "Get ready."

Peter let out a triumphant laugh and said he was already ready to go.

You took a moment and opened a couple drawers before finding what you were looking for. "Take these just in case." You tossed him a pair of black sunglasses. "You'll look like a douchebag, but you're probably used to that."

Peter let out a, "Hey!" but you ignored him, making your way past the others to the front door, telling Peter to hurry up.

***

"Can I drive?" Peter asked as the two of you walked to your vehicle.

"Absolutely not." you answered back with an incredulous glare.

"Why not? It'd be easier to let me drive than you try to drive with your arm in that."

"Because I seriously doubt you have a drivers license," you begin to say. Peter opened his mouth to retort but closed it again when you added, "that would be valid here." You open the driver's side door and add, "And because I don't even know if you know how to drive."

"I'll let you know I've been flying a ship since I was ten!" Peter countered.

"I don't care." you reply. "You're not driving. I can't risk us getting pulled over and you not have a license. You're fully free to stay here if you have a problem with that." You gesture back towards the house.

Peter disappointedly huffed but got in the passenger seat. You won this round.

***

Once you and Peter had left out the front door Yondu grimaced. "Might've miscalculated that one..."

"What'dya mean?" Kraglin asked. Gamora also gave him a funny look.

"Thought fer sure tellin' her to take Quill would've made her see that stayin' put wasn't that bad."

"Wait, you were trying to use reverse psychology??" Gamora asked, clearly annoyed.

"If that's what ya want to call it." Yondu shrugged with a frown, watching through the window as you pulled away down the drive, making sure the vehicle looked like it was driving straight. Luckily for you, it was. Otherwise he was fully prepared to whistle and spear a couple of your tires. Kitchen window would've needed replacing too if that happened, seeing as it was closed.

"Doesn't matter what I call it! It didn't work!" Gamora scolded. "If you didn't think it was a good idea you should have just taken our side instead of trying to play games and sending Peter with her!!"

"What'dya mean 'our side'? You were saying she should take someone with her too!"

"I didn't mean it!" Gamora snapped back.

Kraglin looked uncomfortable, not liking the feeling of being stuck in the room while the two of the more intimidating Guardians argued. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by leaving he just stood there and nibbled at his protein bar.

"Calm down, missy." Yondu said. "It'll be fine. And if not, Quill's got one of those phone things SHIELD gave us. Boy can handle himself."

Gamora glared but didn't speak any further, choosing instead to grab an apple off the table and head to her room. Yes, it likely would be fine, but it didn't mean she felt good about it.

***

After several minutes of driving in silence Peter tried to make conversation.

"So... lotta trees out here..."

"Uh huh."

"You make these trips into town often?"

You shrugged.

"I can see you don't feel much like talking..." Peter said awkwardly. You obviously weren't pleased with taking a passenger.

You turned on the radio in response.

Peter tried again after a few minutes when the music cut to a commercial break, trying a different tactic. "So, why are you afraid of doctors?" he asked, turning the radio down.

You gave him a strange look. "What? Where'd you get that idea."

He went into how you seemed tense when the doctor was checking you over when Fury came, and then recounted an incident that had happened the other day.

You had been reading in the sitting room when Mantis came in. You overheard her tell Gamora that her throat hurt, and so you pulled a lozenge from a drawer in the nearby table, telling her to suck on it and to tell you if it still hurt in an hour. If it did, you'd contact SHIELD to inform them she needed to see a doctor. Hearing this, Kraglin had piped up and asked why you would see that Mantis got a doctor straight away, but you had to have one forced on you. You gave him a look before telling him that it was different, and left the room before he could ask how.

"I only just put the two together." Peter said. "It must be because you're scared of doctors."

"No," you said flatly. "I'm not scared of doctors. I just didn't need one. If Mantis was sick, she would have needed one."

"But you did need one." Peter countered. "And Agent Hill told me about what you did in Romania. You needed one then too. Why would you do that to yourself unless you were too scared to go see a doctor?"

You exhale out your nose, annoyed that Maria had been telling him your business. "I'm not afraid of doctors, ok? It was an important job. There wasn't the time to stop and say 'Oops, will ya look at that, my appendix needs out. Better put the job on hold so I can find a doctor.' Not when I can do it myself. Happy?"

"She said you nearly died. That doesn't sound like being able to do it yourself. You can't do things like that. It's insane."

Your face hardened. Who did this guy think he was? Telling you what to do, you barely knew each other! "What's insane is a crime ring that traffics children to the wealthy elite for sexual favors," you snap at him. "So I guess I'm sorry if I wasn't willing to compromise the job to go lay in a damn hospital bed."

Peter didn't know what to say to that. He still thought you were insane for performing surgery on yourself, but he couldn't quite find a suitable argument after what you just said. After a moment he asked, "Did... did they get out?"

You knew he meant the kids. You swallowed. "Most of them. I don't want to talk about it." You turned the music back up, and Peter let it go.

The two of you rode in silence for a good bit longer before Peter turned the music back down again to speak.

"How much longer until we get where we're going?" he asked.

"Not long. Another ten minutes maybe. Why?"

"I need to take a leak."

You almost roll your eyes. "Why didn't you go before we left the house?"

"I didn't have to go then!"

A huffed laugh escaped your throat. "Seriously? You're like a toddler." You shake your head and say, "Do I need to pull over? I can if it's an emergency."

Peter almost pouted from the toddler comment. "No, I can hold it."

"Alright. Suit yourself."

About five minutes later you come up to a town, and a few minutes after that pull into the lot of a shop, the first stop on your list.

"I just have to run in here and grab a few things, they'll have a toilet you can use." you say as the two of you got out of the car, adding, "Don't forget those sunglasses. I don't want to take any chances."

He rolled his eyes but put them on anyway.

Upon entering the store you told Peter he'd find the toilet in the back and told him you'd be looking in the spices, pointing in the direction he'd find you when he was finished. You debated going along and waiting for him since he was technically your responsibility, but you decided against it. The shop wasn't too large so you trusted he wouldn't get lost on his own.

You split off on your separate ways and you grab a hand basket before heading towards the spices. You had only browsed for a short while when suddenly Peter was back at your side. "That was quick." you said to him, locating two of the spices you needed and dropping them in your basket.

"Door said it was out of order." Peter replied, sounding almost pouty.

You shook your head and said, "See, this is why you go before we leave the house." You find the last spice you needed and give him a knowing look as you began walking away from the spices.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid!" Peter said indignantly, following you as you left the aisle.

"Don't act like one." you reply, turning to find the cleaning aisle. SHIELD had been kind enough to include other basic things like toilet tissue on their supply drops, which you had been grateful for with eight other people living in your home, and the Guardians had already come with their own toiletries like toothpaste and soap, but you were seemingly on your own for cleaning supplies. You were now running low on dish and laundry soap. Gods, there was always laundry now. At least they did their own. Mostly.

"You're one to talk!" Peter retorted, gesturing to your arm.

You glare over to him as you walked. You swore, if you heard one more time about how you were acting like a child just for being stubborn about not seeing a doctor...

"Ow! You did that on purpose!"

"Did not." You said flatly, though you absolutely had smacked him with the basket on purpose. Not super hard or anything, but enough for him to feel it crack him in the knee.

He pinched you on the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Didn't do it on purpose." Peter mocked.

You were by the dish soap now and so you set the basket down to grab a bottle. However, you were sure to flick Peter on the back of the head before you did.

"You did not just flick me!" he said irritably, retaliating by giving your exposed side a couple quick squeezes.

Your arm jerked down fast as lightening, having been just shy of grabbing your preferred bottle of dish soap. Your cheeks were burning and you looked around as you scolded him in a whisper-yell. "We are in a public shop! Don't you dare start that!"

"You started it," he countered smugly. However, his the smugness was wiped off his face when you gave him a taste of his medicine.

"See how you like it then!" you say, using your good arm to return his actions. You hadn't been positive it would work, but you weren't disappointed to see the playing field leveled when it did.

Peter's eyebrows shot above the sunglasses, his eyes widening as he crippled away from the touch and grabbed your wrist. "Don't! I told you I had to pee!"

"Oh." You had been so busy bickering it had honestly slipped your mind. "Sorry."

"Truce?" Peter offered, releasing your hand.

"Yeah, fine. Truce." you agreed, reaching up to finally grab the bottle of dish liquid, a little embarrassed as you realized how much like children the two of you had just acted. "Just hurry up and figure out if you or your friends need anything before we leave," you say, making your way down the aisle to grab the laundry detergent.

It was Peter's turn to look embarrassed, only for a completely different reason. "Actually, now that you mention it- if it's ok, I was wondering if they sell... "certain"... things here?"

You put the detergent in the basket and begin to head towards the pharmacy section, realizing it wouldn't hurt to pick up some bug spray and more of that gel for the bites. Mantis had a bad habit of getting bit by midges, and most of the others had started falling victim to them as well. You didn't look at Peter as you walked, saying, "You're going to have to be way more specific than that, dude."

Peter's cheeks we turning noticeably pink by the time you looked at him when he said, "You know... um... the things... for "special moments..." he used air quotes and looked quite uncomfortable, even with the sunglasses hiding his eyes. "Um... you know... uh... When two people like each other very much..."

You wanted to cover your mouth to hide your grin, but one arm was stuck in a sling-brace and the other was too busy holding the grocery basket. "Are you asking if they sell condoms here?" You tried really hard to bite back a laugh, but a tiny chuckle slipped out. It wasn't that he was asking for them that was funny, it was the way he seemed like a teenage boy about it, all nervous and such like you'd call his mother on him.

Peter's face was bright red now. "Don't laugh! Just- never mind."

"No, it's totally cool. It's just funny. I mean, we're adults, you can ask for them. Like, at least you're being safe about it." Suddenly feeling in a better mood and wanting to tease him you say, "Unless... do we need to have 'the talk' young man?" Now you really couldn't hide your giggles.

"So not cool!" Peter pouted, hiding his face in his hands.

You nudged him in the arm and pointed him down that aisle and told him he could find what he needed there. You continued up a couple aisles to grab the bug repellent and itch cream.

You met back up and he wordlessly threw what he had retrieved into the basket, barely looking at you as he did so. You held back giggles at his behavior and asked if he knew of anything else you needed to grab before checking out.

Peter shook his head, and you can tell by his expression he's eager to leave the shop and go back to the house. You almost feel bad for laughing, and you get an idea.

"If your friends liked the Oreos I can pick you up some more. We'll pass that aisle to get to the checkout anyway."

Peter nodded and you grabbed another double sleeve of Oreos before walking to check out. You only hoped you wouldn't get stuck with one of those chatty cashiers.

Wouldn't you know it, of course you did. You weren't super familiar with the cashiers despite frequenting this store, but you had become familiar with the fact that you didn't care for the one who's line you got stuck in, not realizing you had until it was too late.

Normally you feel for retail workers. You knew it was a tough job, but this one cashier just didn't know how to get the hint that not every item he scanned needed a comment.

Laundry soap? "Ooh! Great taste in scent!" Spices? "Someone likes cooking! Anything good tonight? Yum Yum! Ha ha!" Bug spray and itch cream? "Oh those nasty midges are out again. I feel you, haha." Cond-? Oh fuck. "Oh ho! Someone's getting luck-ay tonight! Am I right, my dude?" He winked at Peter, who noticed you looked like you wanted to reach across and murder the cashier.

Peter chuckled nervously and tried to smooth it over. At least, that's what you thought he was attempting. "Oh- aha- no. We're not together. We're uh- She's my sister."

You snapped a glare at Peter as you thrust your payment to the cashier and grabbed one of the two bags before storming off, telling him to keep the change. Peter grabbed the other bag and left the cashier standing there, who at least finally had the decency to look embarrassed by his comment.

Peter caught up with you quickly.

"Don't call me your sister. I barely know you," you say grumpily. That wasn't really the full reason it upset you. Peter wasn't your brother. Your brother was gone. Peter didn't get to call you that.

"Sorry, I panicked," he said.

You brush him off. You knew there was no way he could know. "Whatever, let's just leave. Sooner we finish in town sooner we can go back to the house."

You made your next stop to a nearby petrol station to fill up your car and give Peter a chance to find a working toilet. After the two of you successfully completed both tasks respectively, you stopped by the post office to grab the mail and post your bills while you left Peter in the car. On your way out of the post office you caught glimpse of someone across the road and a brick fell in your stomach when they waved, indicating they clearly saw you. You nodded back out of politeness but hurried to get in your car.

You buckled in and looked in the rearview mirror, only to see the person, a middle aged woman in a flowery blouse, walking towards your car, still not quite to the road yet, and waving her arms trying to get your attention.

"Fuck," you say, putting the car in gear to reverse before stopping to put it back in drive to finish pulling away. This would be so much quicker if your arm wasn't in the damn sling, but you still managed even with having to completely stop to remove your hand from the wheel to safely change gears.

"What?" Peter asked, turning to look out the back window once you began to pull forward.

"Don't worry about it- and don't look back!" you scold. You take a peek in your review mirror to see the woman gesturing in defeat, thinking you hadn't seen her trying to get your attention, and you let a small relieved sigh.

"Who was that?"

"No one." you replied.

"So you ran away... from no one. Sure."

You shoot him a look and turn the radio back up, clearly signaling that you weren't about to discuss it. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

***

Once home you told Peter to put his "special" items (yes, you called them that, air quotes and all, just to embarrass him) in one of his pockets unless he didn't mind advertising them to the rest of his friends. You had assumed he'd be embarrassed if they were just on display for the others based on how he acted in the shop, and the fact that he obeyed implied to you that you were correct.

Once inside you and Peter made your way to the kitchen to put things away. He had refused to let you carry both bags, and you didn't fight him.

Sitting at the table were Kraglin, Yondu and Rocket. On the table were five empty bowls and an empty tub of ice cream.

You sat your bag on the counter and began pulling out it's contents to put them away. Honestly you were slightly bummed that they had finished off the whole thing, if you had known that you might have picked some more up while you were in town, but you didn't say anything about that. You did, however, say something along the lines of "Looks like you guys had fun without us."

Kraglin, who knew you didn't like the house to be messy and knew they were expected to keep up after themselves, began gathering the bowls to put them in the sink, to the eyeroll of Rocket.

"Yup. Ya two missed the party," said Yondu with a chuckle. "I'll admit, that ice cream stuff ain't bad." He then said to Peter, "Yer girlfriend is the only one who didn't want any."

You froze in place, your eyes widened. It hadn't clicked before. Your mind had been preoccupied with other things. Ice cream. Five bowls. There were seven people left at the house. Gamora hadn't wanted any. Tiny Groot probably shared with someone else. Yondu literally said he ate some. That meant... fuck.

You turned around to face them. Looking right at Yondu you say, "Uh, how long ago would you say you guys had the ice-cream?"

"Not quite half an hour ago, why?"

You bit your lips before saying, "Do none of you think to read labels before you eat things?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes playfully as he sat back down. "What? Ya mad we ate your snack?" he teased.

"No no no-" you state, holding up your pointer fingers like a teacher instructing the class on why they were incorrect. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or groan. Probably the later. You look over at Peter, who held a slight grimace on his face. You say to him, "You know what ice cream is?"

Peter nodded. He remembered ice cream. He also knew the moment Yondu claimed to have eaten it what the problem was.

You look back to the others. "Any of you know what ice cream is?"

Yondu and Kraglin exchange a strange look and Rocket rolls his eyes, wanting you to get to the point.

"It's basically frozen milk."

"Ah." Yondu says, clasping his hands on the table and dipping his head with a slight wince of understanding. He was about to have a bad time. Kraglin and Rocket now share a look that can only be described as 'Crap..." (No pun intended)

Disbelieving laughter bubbles up your throat as you bend below the sink to retrieve a can of aerosolized air freshener and plop it down on the table in front of Yondu. "That's for you, for the inevitable. Use it." You walk to haphazardly throw the contents of your grocery bag in the pantry, leaving your mail on the counter and grabbing your earbuds. "Make sure to open the windows... I'm going for a walk, because there's no way I'm sticking around to deal with that again," you say, giving a mock salute as you make your way out the back door, leaving the guys there to deal with what was sure to be the horrible aftermath of their oversight.

*** You finally came back a couple hours later to find all the windows still open, but no one outside, and decided that was probably a good sign.

You cautiously re-entered the house to find that no bad smells seemed to have stuck around and decided to go look for survivors, but first you needed a snack. You were starving.

You ate a pop-tart just for something quick and then found everyone in the sitting room. Feeling in decent humor you said, "Oh good. You lived." This earned groans from the others. They weren't really annoyed with you for abandoning ship, so much as they were annoyed that Yondu would have messed up and ate dairy for a second time. Well, Peter was a little annoyed that you had just left him there when he hadn't been part of who caused the issue, but he'd get over it.

Your phone started to go off, startling you and a couple others in the process. You checked the caller-id and recognized the number. "Nope," you say aloud, ignoring the call.

"Who was that?" Peter asked.

"No one," you reply, only for your phone to chime with a text almost in response. You open the text and your eyes widen before you make your way quickly but calmly to the windows to shut them and draw the curtains.

This, of course, gathers the attention of the Guardians.

"What's wrong?" Yondu asks, perplexed by your behavior.

"Nothing," you answer at first, before turning to face them and amending it to, "Nobody's home," and continuing your task with the other three windows, still trying to retain a semblance of being calm.

The others watched as you made your way about the room, sharing perplexed glances. Once finished with the final window at the back of the room you started heading towards the door when Mantis grabbed your hand.

"Are you ok? What can we do?" she asked, concerned. "Please tell me?" She could feel you didn't want to ask for help, but she hoped her asking nicely might work.

You barely glance at her, don't notice her antennae are glowing. "I'm fine. If you want, I could use some help shutting the rest of the windows and curtains, please and thank you." You pull away and head to the hall, where they can see you draw the curtains on the front door shut through the sitting room doorway.

"I know you said you can ease people into compliance, but I didn't think you could actually make people do things." Peter whispered to Mantis. He naturally just assumed that's what happened. You, miss "I don't need help from anyone!" had actually asked for help. Clearly that wouldn't happen without some Mantis mojo. The closest you had come to asking for help was the first time Yondu had dairy and you wanted Peter to help open the windows, but still, that was less asking for help and more of telling him what to do if he wanted to live.

"I can't." Mantis replied. "She was genuinely asking. She's very nervous."

Peter shared a look with Gamora and Drax stood up from the couch to follow you, and the they followed him along with Mantis.

Yondu and Kraglin stayed in the sitting room with Rocket, who told himself he didn't care about whatever this nonsense was about and continued to play with Groot. Kraglin and Yondu exchanged puzzled looks, because unlike Rocket they were genuinely curious what was going on to make you as nervous as Mantis claimed. Why were you batting down the hatches for?

In the kitchen Drax helped you close the windows and curtains. As soon as he heard Mantis say she felt you were nervous he felt there must be a good reason and that he should probably help you, just in case.

Then you started shutting out the lights, and this increased the other's concerns.

"What's going on?" Gamora asked, authority in her voice as she followed you out of the kitchen. You may be their host, but she still felt they had a right to know what was going on, if they were in danger.

"Nothing." you say, shutting off the lights in the hall on the way to the sitting room.

"If it was nothing you wouldn't be doing this. Something is wrong. Do we need to call SHIELD?" She asked more insistently, not believing you.

You turn to her irritably at the doorway. "No. We don't need SHIELD," you say, flicking the switch to turn the sitting room's light off, much to the puzzlement of those inside.

"I will if you don't tell us what's wrong."

Just then there was a knock at the front door, and you visibly startled in response before freezing in place and whisper yelling, "Quiet!"

The other's obeyed, not sure what else to do or what was going on.

Peter quietly stepped out of the kitchen where he had been peeking through one of the curtains when he thought he could see the dim glow of headlights through the fabric. He saw a blue car pull up next to yours, and out of it stepped a tall man in a light grey sweater and a woman in a floral print blouse. She looked familiar.

"Hey," Peter whispered across the hall, "It looks like that woman from earlier. The one you ran away from."

"Shut up." you hissed.

Gamora looked at the two of you in confusion, but didn't say anything, didn't get the chance, because the knock sounded again and a woman's voice could be heard from the other side of the door calling your name.

"We know you're in there." said the voice. It wasn't angry or confrontational like the others might expect for someone you were apparently hiding from. "Your car's in the drive and we saw you shutting the lights out when we drove up."

You grimaced.

"We just want to talk." It was the man's voice this time.

Peter and Gamora looked at you expectantly, and you shook your head at them. Drax was now standing behind Peter in the kitchen doorway, Mantis having already moved past him to stand next to Gamora in the hall with you.

"Yes, we just want to talk." The woman's voice again. "We saw you in town today, we've been thinking about you."

By now Yondu and Kraglin had made their way closer to the door to better hear what was being said. They didn't care if they were being nosy.

The man spoke your name now, questioningly, as if to ask if you could hear them. "Ok, we understand if you don't want to see us, but please listen; We forgive you, and we're sorry."

You take in a breath, trying to mask your feelings with the others near. They were looking at you. Gamora's face had softened, wondering what the man meant. Forgave you for what? Sorry for what?

"We shouldn't have blamed you for what happened. We know that now." came the woman's voice. "We've had a lot of time to think it over, and we were wrong."

The man spoke again. "We were just hoping you could find it in your heart to forgive us, too."

You felt your chest tighten and you eyes burn, and so you clenched your jaw and your fists, unwilling to show any emotion to the space-strangers in your home, but they noticed anyway.

Peter gestured to get your attention and mouthed, "Open the door."

You shook your head, and he gave you a confused look. You nodded your head towards Mantis and Gamora as if to say, "Um, not with aliens in my hall!" Although that wasn't completely the reason, and you had the feeling he could tell, as he only sighed and frowned slightly in response.

After a pause the woman spoke again. "Alright. We understand you may not be ready yet. Maybe another time. We're still at the same place when you're ready to speak with us. Hopefully that's soon. We'll be going now."

You waited a few moments before approaching the door, and the other's thought you might finally be going to talk to the couple. You didn't, mostly to Peter's disappointment. Instead you peeked through a sliver in the curtains to watch them leave, not pulling away until their vehicle was gone.

As soon as you stepped back from the door Peter asked, "What was that? Who were they?"

"Nothing and no one," you answer, not meeting anyone's gaze as you flicked the hall light back on and walk towards the stairs.

Mantis grabbed your hand, but you pulled away, telling her that you weren't in the mood to hold hands right then and you were going to go take a shower. She just looked down sadly in response, but you wouldn't look at her to notice.

No one stopped you as you walked upstairs, and when you were out of earshot, Drax whispered to Mantis asking what you had been feeling just then, having noticed Mantis had been reading you when she grabbed your hand.

The other's listened in to her answer as she mournfully replied. She hadn't been able to touch you for long enough to get a full reading, but there had been one dominant emotion when she did touch you. You had been sad.

This only rose more questions from the team. Had the couple been been angry with you? What had you done? Why would their forgiveness have made you sad?

Weren't most people happy to be forgiven?

The sound of your bedroom door opening and shutting travelled down the stairs, followed shortly by the same noise of the bathroom door as you entered for your shower.

Yondu almost thought he could hear the faint sounds of crying before the noise was drowned out by the sound of a shower blasting on.

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg #fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader #peter quill #star lord #fluff #yondu udonta #yondu lives #kraglin obfonteri #gamora #drax the destroyer #mantis #rocket raccoon #baby groot #shopping #drama #mystery

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giaourtopita · 3 years

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oh no i was summoned by a religiously traumatised 17 year old and now i gotta babysit them

okay this is based on my mc but since they don't have a name they will be addressed as mc. i got this idea from @asmo-ds 's discord server since we talk about religious trauma all the time there, so please check out her profile!!

also, shout out to @softcloudycandy for beta reading this for me. i apologise if i made lucifer a bit too soft, however i like to think he would soften up a little if the mc was a minor, especially considering that the twins and lilith used to be his favourite siblings.

warnings; religious trauma, slight bullying mention, underage gn mc, it's kind of a crack\fluff fic idk.

in which the brothers are summoned by a young mc and just hang out together, minus belphie of course because lesson 16.

*mc was sitting in the public library looking for a new fantasy book to read, they really loved those. they also loved the fact that some of their teachers were getting agitated over the fact mc found interesting fiction related to angels and most importantly demons. mc loved to get into arguments with religious teachers but that usually ended up with having to go to the principal's office. so they started looking for an alternative.*

*after some searching they found an old, dusty looking book that seems to be pretty interesting. mc decided to take it home with them. turns out it was an old grimoire about summoning demons, not sure if it was genuine or not they decided that it would be fun to try and summon one of the demons listed there.*

*mc saw many names, including mephistopheles and barbatos. however one of these names managed to catch their attention, the name of the demon in question was lucifer. they learned about him in class but how accurate can a religious teacher be about him compared to just asking him things yourself? mc heard their mother's footsteps and quickly hid their new book in an attempt not to have it taken away by their religious parents. they hated that their parents were like that, it's like they weren't allowed to like anything aside from church and studying the bible.*

*meanwhile in the house of lamentation, lucifer had just finished doing some rad-related paperwork and was about to grab something to eat before going to bed. much to his dismay he will have to wait before eating something because apparently someone crazy enough managed to summon him.*

*lucifer gets angry but once he looks around in the room he was in, he quickly realizes he was summoned by someone quite young in age. mc was hiding behind some pillows for protection, even though they knew pillows would never be able to protect them.*

lucifer: hello? why was i summoned in the middle of the night?

*mc peaked their head from where they were hiding and looked at lucifer, they instantly felt relieved that he didn't look like the goat that was shown in the picture of their school book. they welcomed him and introduced themselves to him as politely as they could. usually they were rude to adults because of how stuck up they thought they were. despite that, this time they tried to be as nice as possible not wanting to anger the demon.*

mc: okay so i summoned you here because I found someone's grimoire in the library and thought it would be very interesting ask you some things, since we just learned about you in school. i didn't really think this was possible because i don't really believe in that stuff so i'm just as surprised as you.

*lucifer grinned in amusement noticing all the pictures of religious figures around their room. mc rushed to explain that it was either that or getting going to church every sunday and attending sunday school right after. they had to decide what to do five years ago, when they were only twelve years old. lucifer thought their parents were being too controlling, yes he's pretty controlling himself but he wouldn't force one of his brothers to do things they don't want especially when they have done nothing wrong.*

mc: i hate that they're like this, i can't wait to move out, they're too much. *mc sighed while looking at him and waiting for him to say something.*

lucifer: so what did you want to talk to about?

*mc's face lit up as they brought him one of the books for religious class, lucifer looked at it while trying not to laugh. he can't believe everything that's written in that book is so far from the truth. this will take a while, he thought to himself while trying to prepare for any questions the rebellious student might have.*

*they both sat down on the pillows mc was hiding behind, mc getting ready to hear lucifer's story from lucifer himself. they got excited as that would also give them more material for arguing with their teachers.*

*a few hours later, it was around 3 am. mc and lucifer decided it was time for him to go. mc learned everything he was able to tell them during his time there and mc was grateful for it.*

mc: thank you lucifer!

lucifer: you're welcome, it was fun talking to you. just next time please contact me before summoning me here.

*lucifer writes down a spell for communication through the realms in one of their notebooks and transports himself back into the house of lamentation*

*the next day mc gets into an argument with one of the teachers again. this time they also got a new nickname, lucifer apologist they were getting called by the teacher. mc didn't really care about it because they didn't want people to spread more lies about their new friend.*

*lucifer sees the message that was sent to him using the spell he wrote for them. he found it so funny that mc gained a nickname because of their encounter even if it was at their expense. he can't wait to be summoned again to teach them more stuff. he liked that finally someone wanted to listen to to him even if that someone was not one of his brothers.*

next part >

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner

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badwithten · 3 years

Photo

〉sungchan x fem!reader

〉word count 1k

〉from my 500 follower event

〉for @amaryllisray i feel like i had a fever dream while writing this idk what happened, its kinda shitty but enjoy <3

Sungchan was a very attentive person, putting time and care into whatever he was doing. It made for cute moments whenever it was his turn to cook dinner or when he picked out a movie for the two of you to watch. And you appreciated it. Although sometimes being woken up at seven in the morning because he thought you were wasting too much of your day was frustrating. You knew the kid had good intentions.

With quarantine keeping you locked inside your tiny apartment, you had been spending a lot of time with your roommate. Discovering things about him that you hadn’t noticed in the past year of your college life. Did he always have empty ears? You had sworn you had seen a shining piece of metal hanging off of them before. What about when he wasted you in Just Dance, was he always that good at dancing? It made you realize that while your roommate had been paying attention and befriending you, you really didn’t know much about him.

Sure he was nice with a cute smile, but what else was there about him? Exams and studies had kept your mind occupied. But now that you were free from all of that, it gave you a chance to talk to him properly. Actually appreciate his words and thoughts without the distant thought of your next quiz in the back of your mind.

But you had recently discovered his desire to visit a famous restaurant a couple of hours away from where the two of you lived. Without a car and no public transport available, he was stuck at home. This was the perfect time to offer him a ride to the restaurant. And maybe being stuck in the car with him for a few hours would make you pay a bit more attention to him.

Just like you had expected he was pretty excited to go. Planning his outfit out the night before like a kid going on a field trip. Which is why it made you feel like shit when stuff started to go wrong. First, you overslept and had to rush to get ready. Your car seemed to be way dirtier than you remembered and your card declined at the restaurant meaning Sungchan had to pay for it anyway.

“I’m so sorry about today,” The sun had left the sky, the two of you driving back in the dark. “I really wanted it to be a fun trip but I kind of ruined it”

“I still had fun, don’t worry about it” It was hard to tell if he was being genuine or just trying not to make you feel bad. But it worked, calming you down a little. Now the only thing you had to worry about was driving the two of you back home safely.

But even that seemed to be a challenge as your engine sputtered and slowed down, giving you barely enough time to turn off of the road. Your eyes went wide as you watched the scene unfold, the flashing empty light on the gas, the bouncing of your car and then the view of a snowy field as you moved off of the road.

“I thought we would make it” Your voice was small, broken as you tried to think about what to do next. But you were defeated, a state of exhaustion coming over you at the late hour of the night after a busy day out. When you were running late this morning, you didn’t want to lose any time at your reservation so you insisted that you would make it there and back with the gas left in your car. But you were just proved very wrong.

“Did we just run out of petrol?” You don’t reply, hiding your face in the steering wheel with a groan. Before he can reply or ask another question, you open the door and slide out of the car. Shutting the door in his face as he leans over to see what you’re doing.

The air outside is a lot colder than what you had expected, arms wrapping around your body as you feel your face go frosty. You can see your breath in the moonlight, looking up into the empty sky.

“Y/N?” Sungchan joins you outside, standing by the edge of the road where a thick layer of snow has formed. You walk over to him, struggling to see his face in such a dark night.

“I’m really sorry Sungchan, I’ll try to call my insurance.” His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his side for a comforting hug. One that also warms you slightly. “I really wanted today to be fun, I just ruined everything. This is my fault. I really am sorry”

“Aw Y/N,” You can feel the tears forming in your eyes, guilt for ruining what was supposed to be a fun day eating you alive. “Not everything is your fault, you can’t take the blame for it all. These things just happen sometimes”

You look at him, eyes sparkling and a small smile at his words. “But this time it totally is all your fault” But then it's pulled all away again.

“What?!” Before you can step back and get a reply, his arm pulls you back, letting go with a swing and his airy laugh as you fall back into the snow. “Sungchan!”

You freeze up, body going tense at the sudden cold and wet snow surrounding your body the further you sink down. You watch his silhouette as he laughs at you but it's not long before he copies jumping face down into the snow. Despite the day you ruined, he managed to save the night.

Another thing you failed to notice about Sunchan was that he was an easygoing person. You didn't need to stress the small things around him. He just appreciated the thought no matter what is was. So even though things didn't go to plan today, he got to spend time with you. And that's all that mattered to him. Laughing in the winter night, throwing snow at each other while you're stranded on an empty highway. To him, it was the perfect way to end a day that didnt go to plan. Because he knew you had good intentions.

#unfortunatus: paradiso #NCTmentary.net #nct #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct fluff #sungchan #sungchan imagines #sungchan x reader #sungchan fluff

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angstyaches · 3 years

Text

Why Do Bad Things Happen To Hungry People?

This is my first hunger fic in a very long time. How the hell are you supposed to title these things?!

It’s also the first ever fic from the Lucyverse, as I’ve decided to call it (basically, any fics that follow the day-to-day lives of Lucy’s flatmates).

CW: hunger, overworking, getting stuck on public transport.

___

Autumn waved as she entered the coffee shop, flinching as the little bell over the door went off to announce her arrival. She glanced up at it, gesturing with her palm for it to calm down, as though it should have somehow known she wasn’t a real customer. Payton’s heart skipped a beat as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and scampered away to an armchair by the window, not wanting to disturb her partner while they worked.

She was so freaking cute.

“Busy today?”

Payton tore their eyes off the back of Autumn’s head and turned to look at Jake, who had only started his supervisor shift five minutes ago. He was inspecting how much money was in the till as Payton laid out a fresh batch of muffins in the food case. The wafting scents of cinnamon and banana and chocolate were all so enticing that Payton could no longer ignore the fact that they’d had to work through lunch. Going an afternoon without food had left them with an ache in their stomach that had only been aggravated more by the stress of keeping the constant stream of customers satisfied. It had rained unexpectedly all afternoon, which had sent floods of park visitors running for shelter and warm drinks.

“Very,” Payton replied to Jake. “I don’t think we had any free tables for about four hours. We barely had time to wipe them down between customers.”

“Christ,” Jake grumbled, closing the till. “And you managed okay, even though Stephen called in sick?”

Payton gestured around themself, displaying the fact that nothing appeared to have burned down or crumbled. Part of them wanted to complain further about the toll the day had taken on them, but it felt better to just act confident about it. “Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“They should be paying you as a supervisor, you know,” Jake said. “I’ll talk to Anne about interviewing you.”

“Really? That would – that would be really cool.” Payton blushed, partly from the praise from their superior, but mostly because their stomach chose that moment to twist inside of them, releasing a long, rumbling growl. The music in the coffee shop was low and calming at this time of evening, but… maybe it would still muffle the sound?

When Jake double-glanced towards the front of Payton’s apron, it was clear that the music had muffled nothing.

“Sorry.” Payton placed a hand over their belly. “When Stephen couldn’t come, it meant I couldn’t take my lunch break.”

Jake frowned and glanced at his watch. “Your shift started at ten thirty, right? You haven’t had a break since then?”

Payton shook their head.

“Fuck it, go home. I’ll tell Anne you clocked out on time.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’ve only got another half-hour anyway, and the place is dead now.” Jake gestured to the room of thirty-six seats, of which only five were currently occupied. “Plus, your girl’s already here. No use in keeping her waiting.”

Payton was already wriggling out of their apron and heading for the door that led to the break room and lockers. “Thank you so much.”

Once they were in the break room, silence crashed over Payton like waves. The shop hadn’t been loud just now by any means, but they hadn’t been away from a din of any kind for almost ten hours. Their ears rang as they put their apron and work shoes in their locker and gulped a half-bottle of water that they found in there. The liquid hit their stomach like a solid lump of rock, but luckily it was lukewarm, and the discomfort didn’t linger for too long.

Payton didn’t linger either.

They tugged their jacket on over their buttoned shirt, wishing they’d brought something with a hood today, in case it decided to rain again before they made it to the tram. Maybe Autumn had thought to bring an umbrella, they reckoned, sighing in premature relief at the thought of her, waiting in the shop for them. They quickly pulled their headband off, brushing their dark bangs downwards and tossing the band into the locker for the next day.

As they pushed back through the door to the coffee shop, Payton felt like their feet had ceased to exist, leaving behind ankles that just floated through the air with a human body propped over them. They saw the back of Autumn’s head near the window, and they smiled to themself, momentarily forgetting the hunger and exhaustion and stress.

“See you tomorrow,” Jake called from behind the till.

Payton shot him a half-hearted salute, never slowing on their beeline to where Autumn was waiting. Well, it was less of a beeline than Payton would have liked; as though to personally inconvenience them, the coffee shop was full of tables and chairs and sofas, which needed to be manoeuvred around.

“Ooh!” Autumn exclaimed as arms snaked around her shoulders from behind the armchair. She dropped her book into her lap and reached up with one hand to tickle the back of Payton’s neck. “Hello, baby. Finished early?”

Payton mumbled an inaudible confirmation against her hair, not caring that they were probably messing up her ponytail. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Autumn said. “A little tired.”

“Me too,” Payton sighed, lifting their head but remaining slumped against the back of the armchair. They felt a gentle cramping in their stomach as they reconsidered their answer. “And hungry.”

“Huh.” Autumn reached up and tapped her book against the top of Payton’s head. The gesture was unnecessarily gentle, as though she’d hit them with something thicker than a paperback print of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. “Well, luckily for you, I’ve got all the makings of your favourite waiting in your fridge.”

Payton’s stomach clenched again, their heart lifting slightly. It had been tricky to get Lucy to agree to it, but Autumn had her own key to the apartment; not only did she call around to visit Payton so often that she might as well have lived there too, but there were often issues at home that she opted to spend the night away from.

But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Your famous sausage rolls?” Payton sank even harder against the back of the armchair, partly to be dramatic, but partly because their body literally weakened a little at the notion of Autumn’s cooking.

Autumn smiled up at them from the cushions. “Pastry’s already made. Just got to assemble and bake them. I got us some oven chips too. Oh – I forgot to check if you had any beans in the cupboard, though.”

“We’re four college students; of course we’ve got beans in the cupboard,” Payton assured her, loudly enough to disguise the fact that their stomach was growling again as they pictured the dinner they hadn’t known awaited them.

“Excellent point.” Autumn scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slipped her book inside. She smoothed down the hem of her pinafore as she stood up. “Ready to go?”

“Way beyond ready,” Payton smiled, watching her scoop up the umbrella that was resting against the arm of the chair.

***

Payton wriggled uncomfortably in a scratchy tram seat, unable to find a relaxed position where they didn’t feel painful pressure building up in their stomach. It was really starting to ache, now that there was nothing to keep Payton’s mind busy. They would have loved nothing more than to be home already, biting into the flaky pastry and warm, soft filling of Autumn’s sausage rolls and finally getting something into their cramping belly.

“You alright, baby? You’re quiet.”

“Am I?” Payton laughed. Their head was spinning just a little, and their voice was starting to sound shaky. “Sorry, I’m just very tired.”

It didn’t feel good to lie to Autumn, even if it was less a lie and more a concealment of the truth. She would never say the words out loud, but Payton knew that she thought of them as a pushover, both in matters at work and at the apartment. There were a lot of aspects of their job that she called unacceptable, and if she’d had her way, they would have quit the coffee shop by now. They had no idea how she would react if they became a shift supervisor and had to take on even more responsibilities, but Payton reckoned that was a discussion for another night when things were a little more certain.

In the meantime, it was best not to say anything about having to skip lunch.

Slipping their hands into the pockets of their open jacket, Payton subtly rubbed their middle, feeling their empty stomach roll around in distress. They tensed and held their breath, hoping to prevent any noises from emerging.

There was a sharp jerking motion as the train slowed to a stop. Autumn gasped lightly and put out a hand to stop herself from sliding forward in her seat. They both looked at each other and held the gaze for a moment before a voice crackled over the tram’s intercom.

“Apologies, folks, it’s just a minor technical issue. Service will resume shortly.”

“Shortly?” Autumn mumbled in annoyance. “Talk about vague...”

“Damn it,” Payton sighed, sinking lower in their seat and pushing their hands deeper into the pockets of their jacket. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

Autumn chuckled; she was still sitting fully upright, leaning towards Payton’s seat as she tried to see up to the top of the tram. “Assumptive of you to refer to yourself as good people.”

“Not me, baby. I was talking about you.”

“Oh. Aw. Thank you.” Autumn smiled and reached out a hand, both to acknowledge Payton and to give herself some balance as she craned her neck.

The hand landed lightly on Payton’s belly, which - in their slumped position - acted as an almost-flat surface for her to lean on as she continued peering up through the carts. She was probably expecting to see tram staff coming through, explaining the situation to the passengers; what she probably wasn’t expecting was to feel rumbling movement beneath her palm, which was accompanied by a loud, pinched growl.

Payton let out a little groan too, turning their face to bury it against Autumn’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, baby?” Autumn half-laughed, her eyes trained on Payton’s stomach as it vibrated under her hand again. She teasingly ran a finger between the buttons in their shirt, gesturing as though to peek under the fabric. “You hiding an angry tiger in there?”

“I told you I was hungry.”

“Yeah, but...” Autumn gasped and rubbed a wide circle across Payton’s belly as it roared again, prompting them to glance around and make sure the seats close to them hadn’t magically filled up with people in the last few seconds.

Autumn, on the other hand, had had her attention drawn away from anything to do with the tram, and towards a particular, grumbling organ. “Baby, what’d you have for lunch?”

Payton groaned again, wriggling a little further down so that their knees were pressed against the seat in front of them. They felt a red blush in their cheeks as Autumn sat back and peered down at their face.

They sighed, eyes trailing down to where Autumn’s hand was still resting on their belly. “The shop was really busy today, and the shift supervisor couldn’t come in, so I ended up working through lunch.”

Payton then held their breath again, both in anticipation of their stomach letting out another whine under Autumn’s palm, and of her response.

“You’re so good, baby.”

Payton raised their eyebrows. “Am I? You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” Autumn sighed. “I obviously don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself properly, but I also wish I had your level of dedication.”

A smile played on Payton’s lips as they nudged the side of their head against Autumn’s waist. “Jake’s gonna see about getting me bumped up to supervisor.”

“And he should,” Autumn laughed, lifting her other hand to sweep Payton’s eyes out of their eyes. “You’re amazing at that job, and no one ever tells you enough.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Autumn leaned down to kiss the side of Payton’s head. “Just promise me that you’ll use your powers as supervisor for good. Like giving yourself lunch breaks.” She gently tapped one finger against Payton’s stomach. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Payton mumbled, burying their face as their chest fluttered. The glow of being praised and worried about lasted only a precious moment though, because there was still an empty belly in the vicinity, and it was determined not to let itself be forgotten in all the chatter.

“You’re mad at Payton though, aren’t you?” Autumn pursed her lips as she spoke to their stomach, as though she was talking to a cat. She patted her hand against Payton’s belly as it grumbled. “That’s okay, I’d be mad too, if my owner spent the day giving yummy food to customers and not me.”

The mention of food sent Payton’s thoughts drifting back towards the dinner that had been promised, and they groaned again, this time nudging their head right into Autumn’s lap. She bit her lip and glanced around at the nearby seats, once more confirming that there was nobody else in the cart.

“Comfy down there?” There was a tiny twist of irony in Autumn’s voice, but her tone was mostly genuine.

“Kind of,” Payton said, using both hands to keep Autumn’s pressed to their aching gut. They glanced up at the grey ceiling of the tram, at the darkness that lay just outside the window, hopelessness welling in their chest as their belly rolled unhappily. “Just so hungry.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just wish I knew how long we were gonna be stuck here.”

“Me too,” Autumn sighed. “But no matter how long it takes us to get home, I’m still going to cook for you the minute we get in.”

“Mmm.” Payton smiled to themself and closed their eyes, letting go of Autumn’s hand as it began to work slow, gentle circles into their belly through their shirt. “Thank you.”

#hunger #hunger fic #hunger kink #belly kink #stomach kink #stomach noises #stomach rumbling fic #oc hunger fic #lucyverse #lucyverse payton #lucyverse autumn #my OCs #overworked #overworking #hunger whump

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billionairebabes · 2 years

Note

hi, i’m not sure what exactly to do or who to confide in but if you could provide any advice that would be soooo helpful! i just recently turned 17, still finishing off school and taking college courses this approaching February. i have a very rocky relationship with my mom, and I’m unable to rely on her for transportation to and from work so i’m quite literally stuck. i got a new job recently, but everytime we have a negative interaction she threatens me and tells me to get out. (i’m working towards it!) like right now, she told me she wouldn’t take me because i politely asked her not to yell in my ear. it’s totally my fault for being so dependent on her but i just don’t have any money for it now lol. i’m not sure what i can do? like maybe working from home temporarily, but there are not many jobs looking to accept people my age. any recommendations?

Hi Hun, firstly, it's NOT your fault for being dependent on your mother. You're a minor and 17 years ago when she decided to have a kid, she signed on to take care of you AT LEAST until you're a legal adult. It's unfair to you that she threatens you in this way and I want you to know that. Like you mentioned though, you are very young and so jobs are hard to find when you're this young. Especially jobs lucrative enough to support yourself alongside school 8 hours a day + preparing for college. When I was 17, I worked at Hollister making 7.25 an hour and my best friend who worked at American Apparel made about 10, clearly not enough to support ourselves. If working is a must, I'd try to find jobs alongside public transportation routes that don't require much walking.

I think the best thing you can do at this point is to focus on school, studying for SATs, and aiming for scholarships. Assuming you're entering your second semester of senior year, you're almost at the time where you'd have the opportunity to move away with financial support from the government or schools. If you'd like to speed up the process, you can also apply for Summer classes. At some schools, there are programs you can do prior to the school year starting, and most provide housing.

I know this can be hard given the current circumstances but in my opinion, it's your best way out atm even though it'll take a few more months. Sorry, I couldn't be more helpful because I've never been in this situation before but if any of my followers would like to offer any advice please do!!

#ask bb

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stars-trash-18 · 3 years

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Adventures of Mando and his emotional GF

I’m so sorry for everything being posted as late as it is but depression is a bitch and I managed to kick her out long enough to write this. I’m surprised I got as many notes as I have been on this story but I forget we go feral for men in masks who are absolute units.

I everything spaced the way it is because my eyes can’t read large paragraphs close together, it bleeds together, so sorry if it’s annoying and maybe a little wrong in writing terms, also I hid a reference in this chapter-

Mando hired you for the sole purpose of keeping his antique flying, yet here you are sitting in the co-pilot’s seat rewiring the nav system while the child is in a crawl space doing your job of trying to get the control panel working. , “Mando tell me again why you put a literal toddler into the wall to do a job you pay me to do, correction did pay me to do,” you stated, using the space tape to keep a lever from going in the wrong direction.

Mando gumbled something before trying the panel again, “because he’s the only one small enough to fit, he has less of a chance of getting stuck and causing more problems,” he seethed. You knew he was more angry at the beeping panel than you, but you still glared at him for the tone he took with you. Before you could say anything he left the seat and went to check the child. “Now, you’re going to plug that red wire where the blue wire goes on the board, don’t let them touch their opposite charges and will electrocute you,”. Was this man seriously explaining electrical engineering to a toddler, a toddler you didn’t know if he was color-blind or not?

“Mando my dear I don’t think the child knows his colors yet much less basic electrical engineering, now stop acting like my dad trying to teach me and let the person with an actual degree do it,” as soon as the words left your mouth you heard the tell tale sound of somebody being slightly electrocuted and smoke puffing out. Without even thinking you jumped out of your seat and shoved the tin can away to pull the child towards you in a motherly embrace, cradling him into your chest as you rocked him slightly. More for your sake than his since he was giggling. Mando just stared at you, you thought because you were crazy, but really because he had never loved you more than in that moment.

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Mando set course for Nevarro while you prepared what was left of the broth, when Mando finally came down you turned your back to him so he could eat, he started to take his helmet off just enough to let his mouth stick out so long as you sat back to back during meals. You loved that you finally trusted each other enough to eat your meals together instead of in separate rooms like you used to. Even though you tried to get him to use a straw but he was a stubborn mudhorn, much like the signet on his shoulder and around your neck.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Mando, “Cyar’ika why do you never call me Din, you know it’s my birth name but you still call me mando?” he asked quietly, you almost missed it. The question startled you at first but it made you soften realising he sounded a little insecure, you entwined your fingers in his before answering.

“Your true name was revealed against your wish, the man who destroyed your people revealed it without your consent, so I don’t say it since you never gave me consent to say it, because where i’m from we have a public name and a true name, the true name is only revealed to partners and family and that requires consent,” you paused to take a breath, his hand squeezed your tightly as encouragement, “so until you give me consent to use your true name i’ll call you by your nickname,” you finished.

The silence between you two was thick and heavy but a chuckle sliced through it like a hot blade, “Cyar’ika I had no idea but you had permission to use it the moment the I gave you that signet necklace, in Mandalorian culture the signet is a sort of family crest, so we’re technically family.” He explained, nervousness tingling near the end at the mention of family. It took a minute for it to dawn on you that in a sense you were married.

“Din Djarin did we get married without my knowledge!” you shrieked, shocking both of you with the use of his full name rolling off your tongue. To Din it was music to his ears, but to you it was so much more. On your home planet, from what you remembered from your short 14 years there, saying somebody's true name for the first time was often in a loving manner, not to scold like you just did, and was a moment of great emotion for both parties. But Mando, Din you had to mentally correct yourself, just turned around and hugged you with his melodic laugh ringing in your ears.

“No cyar’ika we did not, I would have made sure you knew and proposed, Aliit ori’shya tal’din, family is more than blood so we aren’t married but you are my clan,” he explained resting his chin on your shoulder. “You mentioned earlier your father, would you mind telling me about him?” he asked patiently, giving you the option to close him out. Din had told you about his parents once and it moved you to tears, you had wanted to talk about your parents but you never thought of a good time.

You took a deep breathe before starting, “ my father was a flight engineer and my mother was a diplomat, they met on one of her diplomatic trips to Naboo and had me before the clone wars,” you gripped onto Din’s hand before continuing, “I only knew my parents for a few short years before my mother died during the Siege of Mandalore when her ship was mistaken for a Republican transporter, and my father died shortly after I turned twelve and a ship’s engine blew,” you muttered, as you had spoken Din pulled you into a tighter embrace, placing the child into your lap so you could stroke his ears.

“From what I remember my mother taught me various things of diplomacy like how to blend in or stand out, to notice weaknesses or strengths, and how to negotiate deals,” you laughed remembering one of her anecdotes she’d say in her haughty voice, “everything is negotiable nova, if they say it isn’t then they want something you have, she’d always tell me during these lessons,” you remarked before continuing, “my father was who I spent more time with, we’d always run off into my mother’s ship and take everything apart so I could put it back together, our hands n faces covered in grease and our hair always frizzy from the many times I electrocuted myself or going to the junk yard so I could learn how to repurpose parts from one ship to another.” you began to tear up remembering your parents and how they taught you how to survive in their own ways,how your mother always fretted over your clothing whenever a festival happened in town, your father cooking enough to feed an army so your mother would have a taste of home on her work trips, and how they always called you their little supernova.

Before Din could say anything the alert that you had arrived at Nevarro went off, making you both jump up to prepare for landing, already knowing you’d have to strap yourselves down for the rough landing.

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When you both touched down and were greeted by Cara and Greef, who promptly took the child from your arms like a grandfather would, You reluctantly let other engineers go near the ship, a weird feeling settling in your stomach but dissipating when Din took your hand. The man never showed PDA until recently, and you weren’t complaining the least bit being as touch-starved as you were, and promptly made your way into town.

“Mando what the hell happened to your ship,” Cara asked once they were out of the child’s earshot, said child’s eyes caught something in the market and Greef excitedly showed him the stall, you giggled at the question hearing Mando give his signature sigh.

“Had a run in with the Republic,” he answered briskly, causing you to hit his arm before turning to Cara.

“More like Mando wouldn’t stop getting holes blown in the ship, then when we thought it couldn’t get worse he sunk us in a harbor where I threatened to let haunt him if I died,” you stated matter of factly, before continuing on with your tour of the town. You prayed it was going to be a relaxing trip, but you would find out in 10 minutes that it was anything but and that you were about to regret your choice of going to college for engineering.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #x reader #star wars x reader #din being a dad #emotional #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #baby yoda

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lovee-infected · 4 years

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Hi may I please have headcannons for Ciel Phantomhive who got transported to Twisted wonderland.

It got a bit long for headcanons but why not ? Ciel in twisted wonderland has got a lot to tell lol

♦♥♠♣

He assumes it all to be a dream when he wakes up in NRC , as he slides the door of his coffin open just to fall to the ground

He tries and calls for Sebastian , considering this situation having something to do with him .When Sebastian doesn't show up , he leds out a moody growl trying to find someone or a way out of wherever he was

Mirror hall didn't seem a bad place for him to wake up at ; since most of the designs remained the same over hundreds of years it was kinda similar to victorian styles from Ciel's original time . He low-key starts admiring decorations and unfortunately , steps on something's tail

Grim naturally freaks out being woken up from his slumber like this and in a few seconds the whole salon is set on fire

Crowley arrives just in time to find Ciel almost choking Grim while shouting at him to do something ; poor Grim passes out when Crowley finally freed him from the savage Phantomhive's hands

Crowley isn't sure what to do first , punishing him for intense violence or clarifying which dorm would be responsible for him

He leaves judgement to the mirror and...it doesn't go quite as expected : " Your soul is...no . Not again...this one doesn't belong to any dorms either ," mirror says . Crowley got terrified thinking that it was similar to MC's situation , but he got even worse as the mirror says : " I see nothing through him because...I see no soul "

Crowley argues that there must be a mistake but Ciel himself knows that his soul no longer belongs to him , but to Sebastian

Ciel asks if the mirror knows anything about his contract , but neither the mirror nor headmaster had any idea on what he was talking about

Ciel decides to skip that part since he doesn't want to spill more tea himself , so he asks where he is

After Crowley's hour long presentation and telling Ciel that he's stuck in twisted wonderland until Crowley finds a way to send him back home , poor boy nervously smirks

He is now sure of it all being a dream so he tries anything that would help him to wake up : Pinching himself , slapping , screaming and finally , throwing himself out of window - He is lucky that Crowley catches him before his head crashes the ground

He almost saw dead with his two eyes , so it couldn't be a dream anymore

He first freaks out at how he can't come back , but then calms down realizing that he won't stay here for too long ;Sebastian would not let

Sebastian isn't one demon to give up on his soul just by him disappearing , he is way greedier and stubborner and would do anything it takes to have his rights as long as Ciel isn't dead . So being caught in a different world or dimension was no stop for Sebastian , specially thinking that demons themselve came from another dimension

Ciel decides to be hopeful that Sebastian would find him anyway , so he says that he'll wait just there until Sebastian comes for him , ignoring Crowley's ramblings wanting him to stop being stubborn

After a few hours Ciel gives up , accepting that he can't last on his own if he just waits for Sebastian to show up : What is taking that bastard so long...

The kind and good-hearted Crowley offers him a vip stay at their all Happy and comfortable hotel , aka Ramshackle dorm

Ciel argues that he just can't live like a pig , but Crowley states that he's either staying out or at Ramshackle's . He angrily growls , having to deal with it

The next morning he wakes up to see no one but Grim , which made both of them scream . MC catches the pan before Grim could throw it at Ciel , and Ciel brings out his gun- . MC then slaps him for rudeness and takes the gun

He ends up having to head classes with MC and Grim since he has nothing else to do , though he was too young to head any of the classes

Ciel isn't used to heading to public classes , but he's okay with them since he has his experience from Weston College , but something else irritates him :

This school was a bit too similar to Weston College. Not only atmosphere but also students . He basically shared the same class with a green haired version of Greenhill . Sebek is nothing different from him except being...more annoying . He couldn't stop talking about someone he called young master which makes him look a bit like Agni

Same goes for Ace and Deuce , they seemed kinda familiar but Ciel isn't sure where he's seen them before

He doesn't like Crowley because the way he acts , talks and hides his eyes remind him of Undertaker ; making him feel unsafe whenever he is around

This annoying pace continues for him ; a socially awkward emo with long blue hair who is good enough to be Gregory Violet's Identical twin , a teenage-version of Agni who shares the same wild spirit as Suma , and many others

He thought that it couldn't get any worse until he almost screams Snake at a guy who looks JUST- LIKE - HIM , sleeping under a tree . Silver wakes up to Ciel's fascinated gaze and gives him a confused look , that makes Ciel run away

School on the other hand is terrible : Magic's history is nothing like the history he is learned by Sebastian , but he could handle studying something all new . The problem is with the rest of classes : Animal language , alchemy and and anything that requires any talent in magic ; but PE is the worst . His body is already pretty weak and he falls at asthma attacks several times . To add to that his height is another thing he had to keep up with , he is at least 10 centimeters shorter than even the smallest ones there and of course , Night raven's unraveled students don't mind bullying a short moody kiddo-

Beside his enormous problems , there are other advantages as well ;

Ciel isn't much of a people person , but students there are rather interesting to him

Still most of them seem neutral to him , but there are also ones who catch his eyes :

He doesn't like : Grim (for obvious reasons) , Ace and Deuce (too loud and annoying ) , Cater ( Is always playing with some odd invention called phone *) , Leona and Ruggie ( they bully him ) , Jade ( Looks and talks like Sebastian ) , Floyd ( looks like an illegal combination of Sebastian and Grell...+ calls him baby seal ) , Rook ( stalks on him) , Sebek ( too annoying)

He low-key likes : Riddle ( he respects him organized nature + they look a bit similar) , Trey ( acts like a loyal servant ) , Azul ( is smart with contracts and seems to be a man of culture + runs a cafe with good teas and desserts) , Idia ( he weird , yet interesting ) , Silver ( reminds him of Snake) , Malleus ( is mysterious and looks like an almighty master )

The rest are just neutral to him

( * ) : Ciel obviously doesn't know what a phone is , along with many other things invented after his age ; he thinks they are all magical tools and not something created by the hand of man

Riddle invites him to tea parties and Ciel appreciates it , at least one thing that made him calm down in this crazy world

He once goes to Mister S's shop and Sam immediately senses a demonic aura around him , asking him tons of questions about the demon shielding him . Ciel dodges from answering each and every one of them but Sam isn't yet satisfied . He doesn't argue as he Ciel resists answering but Ciel is about to leave , he tells something that makes his blood run cold : " ...We'll soon meet this mister Sebastian in person , little demon ; My friend on the other side told me"

When learning that Azul is a master of contracts , Ciel goes to him to see if he knows anything about contracts made with demons ; which he either doesn't really know or doesn't want to share since Ciel has nothing to give as the price

Azul though still sends the twins after him since he's starting to get interested after his demon sorted questions ; which made him curious of what this child might actually know

Ciel once steps into Ignihyde and gets out in 0.01 seconds . His mind isn't yet prepared to deal with a technology which won't be yet discovered until hundreds of years later from his original time

Other than Ignihyde , the dorm which really makes him feel uncomfortable is Scarabia . The atmosphere is just like Suma's palace and getting reminded of that horrible massacre with Agni's death isn't really pleasant . He meets both Kalim and Jamil in school and Kalim even invites him to parties , but he immediately says no . He decides to stay away from there as much as possible

Savanaclaw is his danger zone , he steps in = He dies . He once calls Leona Pathetic nasty cat and that is enough for Leona to set a prize for his head

Malleus on the other hand seems to be appreciating this little guest . Ciel feels a bit unsafe around him as Malleus notices his supernatural secrets , including the seal under his blindfold without him mentioning it ; but Malleus confronts him that he doesn't want anything from him and he's just interested that's all

Rook hears from Octavinelle students that Azul is after the child , and that makes him enter the challenge uninvitedly ; the Ciel catching game . After all he lives to be the greatest of hunters and also , whatever the reason was , Pomefiore would have an advantage holding what Octavinelle needed

If it wasn't because of MC , Grim , Ace and Deuce sticking to him all day he would've got caught long ago , but no one could kidnap him this easily when others were around

With his terrible situation at classes , daily argues with Grim and anyone else , bully routines and almost half of the school after him he knows that he won't last there much longer

Ciel now can't help but to pray for Sebastian to find him sooner wherever he is now...

♦♥♠♣

Note : Now now , would you guys like a second part for this in which Sebastian this time , finds his way to twisted wonderland..? (:

Update: Part 2 here!

Tagging : @lethlia @xxunrxvelingxx @ji-yaaan

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lia-wildfire · 3 years

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Nosy Superhero Gets Her Backup Privileges Revoked (Whumptober)

The superhero Comet was the best flier in the city, the only one who didn’t need support items to get or stay in the air and wasn’t a villain. Even with her other power of energy beams ...not available to her at the moment (her hands were still so cold) she was capable enough to get by, focusing on rescues and playing support in fights.

The thing about being a superhero was that there wasn’t always someone to fire energy blasts at, but there was always someone who could use the help of someone who could fly. She hadn’t even risen… that much concern or suspicion, probably, since the second power had been taken. Just a look or two when she kept wearing gloves even outside of costume and a couple of comments about how her hands kept shaking. It was fine, anyway, when she was in costume and in her headquarters’ jurisdiction and could rely on backup at any second.

The superhero Comet was not in costume and was not within her headquarters’ jurisdiction. Hailey Park was outside her city’s limits entirely, all of her armored Comet costume was at HQ, and the backup set was in her apartment where her boyfriend had been waiting for their date that night.

She was going to be a little late.

Mildly suspicious activity wasn’t enough to make a call on, but she’d gotten a feeling on the way home, when she saw the truck being loaded across the street. Suspicious truck loading plus a feeling of pure instinct still wasn’t enough to call headquarters or the regular police, and she had told herself she would only follow for a minute to see if they did anything outright illegal or went somewhere completely innocuous and she could call to sheepishly explain that she’d been held up on the date by her own baseless paranoia.

Flying made it easy to move quietly and keep up, and to find the truck again after losing its tail once or twice. (Even though it felt weird to be doing this in sneakers and her boyfriend’s affectionately stolen jacket, without any extra eye protection. At least she knew to keep her mouth shut so she wouldn’t swallow any bugs.)

She’d been following for more than a minute, they had left the city, the sun was going down, and she still couldn’t shake that feeling that something was wrong here. Something familiar about the boxes they’d loaded… she couldn’t get close enough to verify that without being seen herself. Once they were out of city limits, they got moving too fast for her to get a good moment and shoot off a text with more elaboration, she had to keep her eyes on them and stay moving constantly to keep up. (Which sucked, because she was starting to think that the quick [Checking something out, won’t take too long <3] sent an hour ago wasn’t going to cut it at this point.)

They were in another town. She hadn’t caught the name. The truck had pulled into an area that wasn’t quite a parking lot, but also wasn’t small enough for Hailey to want to call an alleyway. Sheltered by buildings on all sides, nowhere high profile enough to have a night guard, just workplaces whose occupants had all gone home by now.

It was behind one of these buildings that Hailey had touched down and leaned as close to the corner as she dared, peeking out through a shadowed area.

The truck’s occupants didn’t seem to be unloading yet, almost as if they were waiting for something. They all seemed pretty distracted talking to each other, and their conversation wasn’t damning outright but it also wasn’t reassuring her. They spoke roughly, though only one of them looked rough enough to match. Whatever was in the boxes was important, somehow, but she couldn’t tell whether they were trading them to someone else, waiting for some kind of signal, or just stopping for the night. It was getting a little late, but they hadn’t been driving for that long since loading up…

“Did you ding up my truck?” rang out louder than everything else, coming from a shorter but muscular woman who had just walked around to the passenger side, where Hailey couldn’t see from her current vantage. The others swarmed to look, several of them taunting the one who seemed second tallest out of the group.

Hailey didn’t like not being able to see them all clearly, but the bonus here was that they couldn’t see her either so she could lean out a little more to get a better look at the boxes, finally catching a glimpse of the symbol on the side of one–

Eyes widening, she heard herself gasp, then drew back immediately and would have scolded herself if it wouldn’t definitely give away her position.

Someone needed to know about this, now.

After a few seconds of holding still, with her heart racing in her ears, it… didn’t sound like anyone had raised an alarm.

Not wanting to risk being heard moving, she floated herself a few steps farther back before taking out her phone, gripping it tightly so her shaking hands wouldn’t drop it again.

Had it not been silenced that whole time? (It was on vibrate, sure, so it wouldn’t be blasting pop lyrics unexpectedly, but she took an extra second to make sure its sound was completely off, and turn down the brightness for good measure.)

The first thing she saw was the last text window, now with several increasingly concerned follow-ups from her boyfriend. Her index finger hovered over the quick call button, but… she couldn’t risk it right now. She’d just hide its light against her shirt, float back to make sure she could still hear a casual conversation, there wasn’t a need to fly straight up and hit the panic switch. She could hide again and start to type, quickly not even fixing the mistakes caused by shaking or by fingertips being a little too cold for the touch screen to read immediately.

(A tiny smile couldn’t help forming when she saw [Hot HotBaby <3 is typing…] pop up on his side of the texts just a few seconds after she started. It was also a relief to know there would be a quick response.)

He knew about her… situation, with her power being “confiscated” and how it had happened, so he would know the urgency of getting this news out just as soon as she could tap out something at least slightly intelligible–

There was a face reflecting behind hers in the darkened glass.

With the phone against her chest again, she jumped forward, turning midair just in time to see something crash down in the space she’d just been occupying.

“Caught a little birdie over here~!” Called out the muscular woman from before, who was perched in a windowsill on the building Hailey had been using for shelter. How had she gotten there so quietly?

The thing that had crashed looked like it was made of the same concrete as this exterior wall. Some kind of material manipulation power? Specifically stone-like materials, or–

Whatever it was, Hailey was getting out of there immediately.

Two things happened before she could get more than an inch or so off the ground: Something heavy slammed into her from behind, and something solid caught around her ankles, trapping them in place. She was able to use the leverage from being stuck to keep from getting completely bowled over, but that would’ve been easier to recover from if she weren’t being held down and kept from getting any altitude. Arms came around and she realized the weight was a person (and that there were now several more people in the alley than there’d been a second ago).

This may have just gone from a situation to a Situation.

Fortunately, she had finely honed reflexes for just this sort of unexpected combat situation. Unfortunately, those reflexes relied on a power that she did not currently have.

Instead of a blast of cyan energy weakening the concrete bonds or making her assailant rethink their current course of action, what she got was a sudden icy numbness shooting from her fingers and palm up through her entire arm as her hand’s shaking intensified. That made it harder to try to wrestle them off manually, especially since she was still reserving one whole arm for protecting her phone and trying to hit the call button without looking.

Things were escalating a little too quickly. She managed to clumsily grab, twist, and throw them off before bending down to pull at the things wrapped around her legs, willing her fingers to keep working through the feeling of being frozen from the inside. (The phone was kept hugged to her chest– the less attention she drew to the light it let out and the attempts she was making to call for backup, the more likely it would be to do something.)

“Think you can break concrete? Good luck with that.”

There was a snort, then someone’s hand in her hair. They got her head pulled back before she could duck to the side and bring her forearm up to knock them away. All but one of the people from the truck was now clustered around her, as casual as if looking at a cool bug someone had found instead of a person who’d just caught them transporting–

“Hey hey wait is that Comet. You got heroes on our tail?”

“No way, Comet would’ve blasted–” The hand was back in her hair and the only reason she hadn’t lost her balance and fallen was that she was technically still flying right now. At least now she was wearing more of a glare than a look of wide-eyed panic. “Holy–”

For the first time, Hailey had a moment of second-guessing her decision to be a more publically open hero.

“Back off or I will start blasting,” she said, straightening up suddenly, and with enough force that there was actually a pause as wary eyes went to her hands…

And just enough quiet that the pre-call dialing sound could be heard from her phone.

“Shut her up.” Concrete Woman snapped and the group jumped into action.

It wasn’t the most choreographed assault Hailey had ever witnessed or been the target of, but it was still difficult to fight off four people with one arm that refused to respond consistently or register when it was touching something, while stuck to the ground. Before the dialing could finish, she found her arms being wrenched out of her control and someone behind her again with a forearm pressing sharply against her neck. She could get out of this hold if she had both hands free, but she refused to let go of the phone yet, she wasn’t confident enough that she could get out of this without any backup.

When she heard it pick up, the only sound she could get out was a –literally– strangled gasp, to which she felt that chokehold tightening further. None of the others spoke. Through wavering vision, she caught a couple of nods and jerking of heads in lieu of verbal communication.

‘Hailey?’ came the sound of her boyfriend’s worried voice, sparking off a fresh round of struggle as she turned her head and yanked her hand back, trying to get a less dangerous angle in the chokehold so she could get out one word, and trying to keep any of them from hanging up on him before he could hear it.

For her troubles, a hand pressed in over her mouth and nose and someone twisted her arm painfully, digging their nails into her skin, until the phone clattered to the ground.

Some of her muffled cries must have been heard, because she could hear her name being repeated more urgently, then breaking off into something she couldn’t quite catch because either he’d gotten quieter or there was a little too much blood rushing in her head.

Her eyes had been squeezed shut with effort, but even when she opened them everything was getting a lot darker than it really should be, and she was having trouble making sense of what she saw. Having gone still for a second, the hold stopped getting tighter and she was able to make out the rectangular glow, someone had picked it up, then another glow like it was being surrounded by some kind of energy… The form of someone drawing back to throw at maximum strength.

With whatever breath she had left, she screamed against the hand as loudly as she could, cut off after less than a second when it felt like her neck was suddenly crushed.

Voices picked up again as the spot of light sped into the distance and disappeared, but everything was already going black.

#whumptober2021 #no.2 #choking #oc #writing #lady whump #going unconscious #heroes and villains #sssshv #comet #first superpower there is some kind of stonelike material manipulation #the other one is some kind of like telekinesis that specifically encapsulates small objects before they can be yeeted a very long distance #whoever tracks her phone's signal is going to get the wrong area of town #wordcount 2150

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mudhornchronicles · 3 years

Text

dreamboat | greaser!frankie morales | part two

diner cred to @thatretrobitch

pairing: francisco “catfish” morales x reader; 1950’s greaser!frankie x reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking, ya know… 1950s stuff + death and war, and being rude af

a/n: part two of dreamboat

masterlist

dreamboat: part one | part two

“If I didn’t know any better, Francisco, I’d say you were teacher in a past life.” You look up at him and smirk. He looks over to you and gives you a crooked smile. He adjusts his jacket and runs his left hand through his hair.

Frankie taught you a lot more history than the teacher. Frankie had a lot more patience and explained each topic that was covered in much better detail and simply enough to understand. Like when Hattie Wyatt Caraway of Arkansas became the first woman elected to the U.S. Senate in 1932 to fill the vacancy caused by the death of her husband. Frankie compared it to the demonstration of the first long distance telephone service between New York and San Francisco in 1913 – surprising but needed.

You didn’t have Frankie for a third period, just first and fourth, but he made sure to meet you out each of your classes and walked you over to your next class. He had conversed with the boys about asking you to Rosie’s Diner on Friday night. Everyone knows when a guy takes a little darlin’ down to Rosie’s, she’s unavailable. Frankie knows you probably don’t know what going to the diner with him means but he assumes if you did, you wouldn’t go. So he decides that the less you knew the better – well at least that’s what Tom decided.

“Ya know, doll. I like the way you say my name, but how ‘bout ya just call me Frankie, huh? I don’t use the entire thing anymore.”

You cock your head to the side and your smiles turns into a slight frown. “Do you not like the way Francisco sounds?”

He tucks his hands into his jean pockets, shrugs, and looks down at his dirty Chuck Taylors. “Thanks, I do like it, but it don’t… it don’t sound cool, you know? I got a reputation to keep up – all the guys do.”

Frankie stopped using the name Francisco at the start of freshman year. Pope stopped using Santiago around the same time. Their teachers would call them Francis and Saint because they found it difficult to pronounce the boys’ names correctly. Frankie was too shy to say anything and Pope was still unsure about his accented English, so when Will laughed and told the teacher, “Ain’t that a bite? You got a degree, but can’t pronounce an ABC name,” the boys knew Will was going to be a great friend. The boys thought that would be the end of it, but then Benny decided to join his brother and say, “How ‘bout, since ya feel so high and mighty, you call ‘em Frankie and Pope? We got Francisco like that city on the west coast, so call ‘em Frankie. Then we got Santiago. You wanna call ‘em Saint, then give ‘em the highest honor.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” you stopped walking and placed a hand on his arm. “I like your name. I think it suits you very well.”

He smiles and nods. He doesn’t know if he’s nodding because he’s convincing himself he likes it too or if he’s nodding because he’s glad you like it too. He liked your company because you weren’t too invasive, but he could also tell that you wanted to get to know him. He knew he wasn’t the most open to people, he has his father to thank for that.

As young 19-year-old – about a year older than Frankie – his father was drafted and fought in World War 1 in 1918 as a US Army soldier and was then sent off to France a few weeks in to fight with the AEF, the American Expeditionary Forces. Because of this, Frankie’s father wasn’t the most expressive when in public but was easily the most caring when it came to his family. When Frankie was growing up, his father had spoiled his baby boy and made sure he worked hard as a welder so that Frankie wouldn’t want for anything. Frankie remembers his father coming home from work late at night, oil and bits of metal stuck to him, and always turning his frown into a smile when he laid eyes upon his son.

His father’s closure to the world only grew when he saw his family in danger. Frankie figured that by growing up within a military family, it would lead to him serving in the military as his father did before him. When Frankie was coming to the age of enlistment, he told his family about him wanting to go off to the military, but his father was very much against it. All his father wanted for his son was for Frankie to live his life the way he wanted to, so Frankie didn’t enlist. One day when Frankie was at school, recruiters came to the Morales home and were knocking the door down. Frankie’s father had informed them that his son would not be serving. He was told that because Frankie was able, male, and was soon to be of age, he had to enlist whether he was needed or not. His father complied; except he wrote his own name down instead of his son’s.

His father never regretted going to war. He still had nightmares, which Frankie knew all too well. He had met Frankie’s mother when he came back home in 1921 and after years of trying, he was blessed with a son in 1935. All was good in the world until the year 1950 – Frankie was 15 years old. In August of 1950, a letter came in the post reading the following:

SIR: FRANCISCO MORALES SR.

You are hereby notified that you, on the 21 day of August of 1950, have been legally drafted in the service to the Armed Forces of the United States of America. You are to report to the Armed Forces station below and will be transported to Daejeon, Korea.

Frankie’s father never came back.

His body was never recovered – just his ID tags. Frankie’s mother was told that the last transmission received with the whereabouts of Francisco Morales Sr. were near the Nakdong River in South Korea. Frankie always carried his father’s ID tags around his neck no matter where he went. Those tags always reassured him of himself knowing that he was doing what his father wanted him to do.

Frankie walked you down the steps of school building and stopped at the sidewalk. “Ya know, if ya need a ride, I can take ya home – aint no trouble.”

You smile and shake your head. “I appreciate that. I told my mother I’d take the bus back home.” You knew your mother would have a fit if she saw you get dropped off by a boy, but she may still be at work. You looked back at Frankie and saw that he had a slight frown on his face as he played with a necklace hidden in his white t-shirt. You weren’t sure the reason behind it, but he didn’t want to pry. “Actually, I’ll take a ride.”

His eyes lit up and nodded. “Great but I do gotta warn ya, doll. I gotta take Ironhead and Benny back to their place. Pope usually goes back to mines.” A ride home in a car full of teenage boys – what can go wrong?

The pair of you walk down to the school’s parking lot and there you see students laughing in their cars – 4 to 5 in a car – all while having a smoke and others are drinking from beer cans. You have no doubt that it’s beer cans when one gets tossed towards you with left over beer splattering over your white skirt. Frankie takes notice of the yellow stains and the grimace growing on your face. He looks over at the teenagers in a beat-up Chevy.

“Aye watch where ya tossin’ shit, birdbrain.” The teens look over at Frankie and walk over to him. You place a hand on his arm and look up at him.

“Frankie, c’mon. Let’s just go to your car, huh?” you plead. His arm tightens and as the teens arrive in front of him, Frankie protectively put you behind him and adjusts his jacket – a tick of his you’ve taken note of. The three boys who walked over to Frankie look over at you and smirk.

“Well shit Frankie, pal.” One of them takes a smoke and blows the out towards his side. “You already smashin’ up this little new betty? Don’t you work fast… first Michelle, then Tiffany, now this one?”

Frankie’s jaw tightens and his hold on your arm shifts. “How ‘bout you stuff it, Jack? You know you ain’t even supposed to be here. This ain’t your turf.”

Jack removes his hat, a cowboy hat he’s become fond of, and fixes his hair. He puts it back on and laughs. “You’re right, but I clearly don’t care. Oberyn ain’t out the can ‘till Friday, so I call the shots. My boys wanna be here and screw all these chick-a-dees, then they will. I know you ain’t gon’ do nothin’.”

“He will,” you hear a click and quickly turn your head to see Pope and the boys, Benny holding up a pocketknife. “But he ain’t doin’ it alone either.” The Bandits circle the three men and puff up their chests.

“Alright,” Jack holds his hands up. “We’re gone but trust me when I say that Oberyn ain’t gon’ be too happy to hear this.” With that he snaps his head over to his boys directing them back to their car. They turn to leave and Jack walks away backwards. When he’s satisfied with the distance between himself and The Bandits, he turns on his heel and runs to his car. He jumps in the driver’s seat, gives his girl a smooch, and revs the engine – with that he’s gone.

Pope looks at you and gives your shoulder a quick squeeze. “You good? Hope those bumrats ain’t spook ya too bad.” You shake your head and smile shyly. You look down at your ruined skirt and shrug.

“Just a ruined skirt but that’s okay. I wasn’t fond of it.” Will laughs at your comment fluffs yours skirt from the bottom, earning a nudge from Frankie.

“Let’s get her home, huh? I gotta drop off everyone else,” Frankie says. Tom tells Frankie that he’s got detention and to go on without him. Tom goes back towards the building while everyone piles up in Frankie’s Cherry Red 1945 Mustang GT – his father’s gift to him for his 15th birthday, also his last gift.

Per usual, Benny and Will leans the driver’s seat forwards and get in to sit in the back while Pope goes to sit in his usual spot as shotgun. Frankie tuts at Pope and points to the back. Pope scoffs but shoots Frankie a wink. He gets in and sits in between the brothers, being the smallest of the three, and Frankie runs over to open the door for you to sit up front. He grabs your books and hands them to Pope. As you situate yourself and buckle your seatbelt, Frankie gets in and turns on his baby. He revvs the engine and backs up out the school’s parking garage, but not before revving his engine one more time for the freshmen per Benny’s request.

On the drive to the brother’s house, Benny grabs your notebook and looks through your notes of the day. He looks through the math notes you took during 4th period and immediately closes it. “You sure are smart if you’re taking this angle stuff. I’m guessing it’s college prep?”

You look over your shoulder and nod. “I’m currently taking college preparatory trigonometry. They unfortunately didn’t have any other advanced placement for me here.”

The boys let out a harmony of “ohs” and Will shakes Frankie’s shoulder. “Frankie! She’s smart like you, buddy!”

Pope smirks and joins in on the teasing. “Lo vez, hermano! Being smart doesn’t make you un-cool. Being you does! No te hagas ver como el tonto porque no lo eres.”

You see, brother… don’t make yourself seem dumb because you aren’t.

You look at Pope and smile. “I agree with you, Santiago. Frankie is very intelligent so he shouldn’tdumb himself down because he thinks that’s what people think of him.” Pope stops and looks at you. “You know some Spanish, angel face?” You eagerly nod. “I’m very familiar with the language. They had us choose electives at my old school. I took Spanish, Italian, and French. I had a lot of a free time.”

Pope looks at you in shock but happily hollers. “Well sugar you sound pretty good speakin’ ‘em”

You couldn’t explain it, but you felt giddy. You felt happy to be around the boys and you knew you wanted to continue to be around them.

With Frankie getting out of the car and moving his seat forward, Will and Benny get dropped off first, but not without teasing him about “asking the chick.” Frankie flips them off and Pope lets out a belly laugh. Frankie apologetically looks at you and mouths sorry. You blush and mouth that’s okay.

Once leaving the brothers, Pope tells Frankie to turn up the radio. Frankie looks at Pope through the rearview mirror and narrows his eyes. “Switch to 12,” Pope says with a wink. Frankie rolls his eyes and turns the knob so the needle hits channel 12. Once Frankie hears the recognizable melody from “Takes Two to Tango” by Pearl Bailey. Frankie goes to switch the channel, but you stop his hand. He glances over to you and he sees you mouthing the words. He looks back at Pope who wiggles his eyebrows and sings out loud and to Frankie’s surprise, you join Pope singing at the top of your lungs. He laughs at your attempts at dancing in your seat and looks back at Pope who was waving his hands in the air.

Frankie thought that you’d be this proper, shy little thing but here you were having singing and laughing with his best friend. You gave him the slightest nudge and smiled in his direction. “C’mon Frankie. Don’t be a sour puss. I know you know this song!” You were right. He did know this song. He and Pope sang it so much because Pope thought he could woo some girl – he didn’t really know what the lyrics meant so you can guess what happened. If you guessed he slept with her… you’d be correct.

You poked Frankie in the ribs light enough to not affect his driving and giggled as he sang out with Pope. You liked seeing this Frankie – not that big tough guy you saw at the parking lot. He seemed like he had a big heart but was scared to show it and you were determined, but you were ripped away from your internal planning when Frankie politely asked for your address.

“It’s a shame you ain’t hangin’ longer sweetheart,” Pope began. “I think you’d like being around us two mucks. You would definitely like Frankie’s mom’s cooking. She makes the best food in town.” You smiled as the two best friends bickered about whose mom had the best food.

“I would have loved to, but I have to be home and do chores before my mother gets home.”

Frankie looks over to you and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. Maybe next time, cool?” You smile at the invitation and nod. Frankie continues to drive as you and Pope make a conversation about the possibility of you tutoring him in math. With them being high school seniors, they are not failing one class.

You feel on top of the world, laughing and talking with your new friends, until you spot the yellow Pontiac in the driveway and your mother coming out of it. Your face drops and the boys immediately take notice.

“What’s wrong?” Frankie asks. You straighten out your top and ask Pope for your books as you ready yourself to run out of the car. You look at Frankie and offer a weak smile.

“My mother won’t be happy with me is all.” You’d ask Frankie to drop you off a couple of houses before your own, but you know your mother has already seen you. As Frankie pulls up to your house, the boys’ jaws drop. You wouldn’t say your house was big, but to the boys, it was huge. Your two-story home consisted of 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. The exterior of the home was beige with dark brown trimming and the river rock pathway leading up to your home was lined with grass so green you’d think it was plastic.

Your mother, dressed to the nines in a pale pink dress and white belt, looks at the hot rod parked in front of her home and places her hands on her hips as she sees Frankie run out and open your door. Your mother would normally love seeing her daughter be treated by a gentleman, but she isn’t very happy to see that it’s Frankie. She has always dreamed of her daughter being courted by a young man in polished Oxford shoes and ironed pleated pants not a worn out leather jacket and dirty chucks.

You thank Frankie for the ride and look over at your upset mother. The boys say hello to her as she gives them the ungenuine smile of hers you have seen many times. You wave goodbye to both boys and begin to walk up to your mother. You hear whispers behind you and then you hear your mother say, “Is there something else you’d like to say, boy?”

You turn and you see Pope shove Frankie towards you. His face turns red as he sees your mother staring him down and he knows that this may not be the best time to ask you.

“On with it, young man. My daughter and I have work to do.”

Frankie once again runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat. “I- I, uh, I was wonderin’ if ya wanted to hang with us at Rosie’s on Friday. The shakes are pretty good so we could ma-“

“What’s your name, young man?” You look at your mother. You narrow your eyes at her for interrupting Frankie.

“It-It’s Frankie,” he stutters, “my name’s Frankie, ma’am.”

Your mother gives her less than friendly smile again. “Well, Frankie, you’ll understand where I’m coming from when I tell you this – you are not the kind of person I want my daughter befriending. You just don’t quite… how can I put this nicely? You don’t fit a mother’s standards.”

“Mother!”

“Quiet.” she tells you. “You will not be around these boys again, do you understand? Your father works too hard for you to just ruin your life like this. You asked to be taken out of the pristine private school we paid for you to go to and we allowed you to enroll in public school. Why are you bringing home some… some hoodlum! How can you do this to us?”

You wished this had surprised you, but it wasn’t the first time your mother disrespected your choice of friends. You huffed and you felt tears coming to your eyes as you saw Frankie’s defeated look in his eyes and Pope fighting the urge to get out of the car.

You mother calls your name, and you turn to look at her. She walks to you, heels clicking the pavement, and cups your jaw. “You will not associate yourself with these boys, do we understand each other?” You see Frankie nod to you and walk back to his car. You look back at your mother and nod. “Yes, Mother. I understand.” Your mother smiles at you and gives your cheek a pat. “Good girl. Now… get inside and put that skirt in the hamper. Your allowance is going towards a new skirt.”

She leads you into the house and you look back and see Frankie’s car is still there. You stop in your tracks and look at your mother. “Mother, may I please run back and grab a paper I left?”

“Is it school related?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. Go grab it and say goodbye and come back in. We have to get dinner going.” You nod and run back to the car and your mother walks into the house.

Pope rolls down the passenger side window and both boys look at you. You smile at Pope and look at Frankie.

“Does Rosie’s Diner have sundaes?” Pope smirks and turns to Frankie while Frankie nods with a confused face. “Well,” you start, “If Friday’s invitation is still open, pick me up by the green house down the street at 6pm. She’ll be going to my grandmother’s house up north.”

“Sounds like a plan, doll.”

The light breeze surprises you as it picks up the more you walk down the street. You walk past two houses and you see the red backlights of the cherry red mustang you seemed to miss.

Your mother, thankfully, left to your grandmother’s home about two hours ago, much earlier than expected. She called not very long ago to make sure you were home and doing homework. You told her that you were planning to retire early as your homework began to give you a headache. She insisted you eat dinner and sleep as she didn’t want to see eyebags under your eyes when she got back tomorrow. She bid you goodnight and said she’d be home by tomorrow’s lunchtime. Once you hung the phone on the hook, you ran to your room and began to ready yourself for the night.

You grew giddy as 6 o’clock crept closer and closer. You had applied your blush and mascara so carefully you’d have thought you were dusting the finest of china. You did not want to wear too much makeup; you didn’t want to seem as though you were trying too hard. You picked out the pins out of the curls on your head you’d put up right when your mother left and watched as the soft and tight curls fell and framed your face. You grabbed your wide tooth comb and brushed the curls out, parting your side at a side so there was more hair and volume on one side. You sprayed a tight hold hairspray all over so you could make sure your hair stood – Frankie wouldn’t want to see frazzled hair, no man would, you thought.

As you went through your closet, you decided that a dress was the best choice as it was simple enough to either be dressed up or dressed down. You went with a white collared black dress with thin white windowpane patterned lines all over. You wore your black flats and added a black shiny belt running across the waist. You get closer to Frankie’s car and you see him get out of his car – you figured he had seen you coming.

“How ya doin’ there, doll?”

“Hello, Frankie.” You wave and get closer to him. Once you’re in front of him you fix his jacket lapel and look up at him. “Aren’t you sight for sworn eyes.”

His eyes widen then starts laughing loudly and your face goes red. He nearly falls in laughter as his hands catch himself on his knees. “W-What’d ya just say?”

“I said aren’t you a sight for sworn eyes,” you frown. “Is that not appropriate?”

He catches his breath and puts a hand on his belly. He reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear with the other hand. “The saying is a sight for sore eyes, doll; not sworn eyes.”

You feel as if your face is about to burst as you start laughing at yourself. You just cannot believe you’ve messed up your first attempt at flirting with Frankie. “I was really sure it was sworn.”

He smiles brightly and shakes his head. “Hey… can’t say ya ain’t tried right?” You giggle and nod. He look you up and down and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Te vez hermosa.” You look beautiful.

Have you ever had that feeling when there’s a puppy trying to get comfortable, but it can’t so it walks over to you and lays with you – falling into a deep and peaceful sleep? You know how it makes your heart feel as if it’s grown twice in size because the puppy chose you and trusted you to protect it while it slept? That’s how you felt when those words came out of Frankie’s mouth.

“Muchas gracias, Francisco.” Thank you very much, Francisco.

He playfully rolls his eyes at you and lets out a laugh. He points to the car and says, “get in the damn car.” He runs over to your door and lets you in, as per usual, and off you two went to Rosie’s Diner.

Frankie leads you into a bright neon-lit diner not very far from your home, about 25 minutes from your place. The diner stands out from the black concrete parking lot and pine trees decorating its background. He opens the light brown doors and places a hand on your lower back as you walk in – not too low or too high.

“Howdy’ho kiddos.” You’re greeted by a woman in her late 40’s or early 50s – the grey hair and sweet smile give it away. “Hey there, Frankie. Bandits meetin’ ya here?”

Frankie smiles at the woman, gives her a hug, and a quick kiss on the cheek; a kiss she smiles at and hums in content. “Hey Ro. Boys are comin’ in a while. You know they ain’t missin’ your special tonight.”

“There’s a special night every night for my favorite bandits, Frankie. Who’s this, huh? You finally bringin’ a girl for me to meet?” Frankie shakes his head from side to side smiling. He turns to you and introduces you to Rosie, the diner’s owner and one of his favorite people. “She’s new in town and I wanted to show her the best diner in the world.”

Rosie slaps Frankie’s arm and laughs. “Stop talkin’ sweet ‘fore your teeth rot, boy. You’re too pretty to be all gums now. I knew my boys were comin; your usual booth’s open, but take the table next to it, yeah. Ya need the extra seat ‘less you sittin’ the girl on ya lap.” Frankie begins to stutter a protest as you stifle a laugh.

“It’s very nice to meet you Miss Rosie. I’m in awe of your diner and excited to try your food.”

“Well it’s very nice to meet the girl who Frankie finally decided to bring to the diner. It’s a very special moment in his life ya know?” You cock your head to the side and take a quick glance at Frankie.

“Why’s that, Miss Rosie?”

As Rosie was about to explain the beginning of courtships of 99% of the teenagers in town, Frankie dragged you away with the dramatic excuse of being so hungry he can eat a horse and how he’ll drop dead if he doesn’t get a shake.

As you make it to the table Rosie had sent you to, you’d think that Frankie would have pulled out your chair, but a couple of some teens you remember seeing at school look in yours and Frankie’s direction whispering among themselves. You took a seat and looked at Frankie to ask if he knew them but as you were about to ask, you saw his face looking back at them with a deep stare. He gave them a single nod towards the door and to your surprise, they ran. Frankie scanned the room and he knew everyone would be taking in the scene. Frankie had never taken a girl out in public – especially not a girl like you. Sure people knew about other girls he’s been with, but everyone knew they weren’t together.

Frankie sat down after everyone in the diner turned their attention back to where it previously was and he passes you a diner menu, but still tense due to the eyes that locked with his back once more.

When the waitress you learned was named Vi and was obsessed with Will, Frankie had ordered a basket of fries for the two to share, a cherry soda for him and a sundae of your pick for you. Vi was also an older woman, best friends with Rosie, and had an innocent crush on Will’s blonde self. Frankie told you about the time Will brought Vi a bouquet of flowers for her birthday and Vi almost attacked the poor kid to the ground with kisses. Vi was sweet and she made you feel very good about yourself as she fixed your collar and fluffed your hair because “her Frankie needs to see what he’s got in front of him.”

You were nearly done with your sundae as you heard the distinctive pitch that is Benny’s voice as he said “What’s cookin’ good lookin’ don’t you look like a dream,” and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You greet each and every one of the boys as they take their seats around the table – Benny calling dibs on one of the seats next to you. Benny puts his arm around the back rest of your white chair and calls Vi over to place a new order.

As the night continues, you feel free. You feel so relaxed and at ease with the boys around you that you don’t even notice the dirty looks some girls were giving you. Benny puts his head on your shoulder and give his cheek a little pat resulting in Benny playfully trying to bite your hand. Frankie clears his throat and Benny looks over at him and smirks.

“I ain’t trynna steal ya girl, Frankie. If she hangin’ with us, ya gotta get used to us playin ‘round.”

Frankie turns red as Benny calls you “his girl” and rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He looks out the window and immediately tenses. You follow his gaze and see a 1942 black Ford with some boys in it – one of the being that Jack guy from school – revv its engine as it speeds back and forth through the parking lot. He grabs the boys eyes and directs them towards the window and Benny stands up immediately. The boys follow suit and Frankie turns to you.

“Stay here alright, doll? We’ll be back.”

You turn from Frankie to the window and back to Frankie with a worried look painting your face. “What’s going on Frankie?”

“They shouldn’t be here. This ain-“ You both turn at the sound of a crash and see Pope being held against Frankie’s car by a guy in a black tee with its sleeves rolled. Frankie runs out of the diner and you run after him. You know you shouldn’t be getting in between this, but you aren’t going to let anyone hurt your new friends.

Frankie runs up behind this guy, turns him around, and shoves him away from his car and friends. The guy smirks and nods at Frankie. “Did you miss me Frankie?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Oberyn? We already told ya friend there that this ain’t your turf.”

You had to admit, Oberyn had this strut to him that showed his self-confidence and the combination of his flirtatious smile and smoldering eyes only made him more attractive than he already was. Jack came to stand next to him and as he turned to toss some keys over to another friend of his, you caught sight of the word VIPERS with two snakes on the back of his jacket.

“Yeah… he told me ‘bout it. But ya anna know what else Jackie told me? He told me that ya got ya’self a knockout.” Oberyn locks eyes with you and winks. He tries to walk over to you, but Frankie pushes back and away from you.

“Don’t get near her.” Oberyn lets out a sarcastic chuckle and gets in Frankie’s face.

“How ‘bout ya make me, Morales?”

The next thing you knew, you were yelling and crying with Will held you away as you saw Frankie and Oberyn duke it out on the concrete while Benny and Pope tried to pry Oberyn away – Jack and some other guy pushing them away. You caught a glimpse of Frankie’s bruising cheek and Oberyn’s bloody nose. You only noticed the officer’s arrival once Will dragged you back in the diner and making sure Rosie held you back as he ran back to be by Frankie’s side when the local sheriff gets out the car.

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @funerals-with-cake @seasonschange-butpeopledont

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x you #francisco catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #catfish morales #francisco catfish morales x you #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #dreamboat #catfish morales x you #catfish morales x reader

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

Text

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST—

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode?

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home:

All hail Incitatus the king

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts

oh god is that hamilton

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway)

Me internally vs externally

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don’t know the pledge of allegiance”

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

#opera #opera tag #results #screencaps #captions #caption #caption this #caption contest #this seems to have gone over well and I am Pleased

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calpicowater · 2 years

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Week 48.4/52: November 29th - December 5th 2021 | Jerry Part 2

Morning shift with Matt and it was nice despite me only sleeping for 4 hours again HDJSJKSKSSKS. Forever a zombie. I refuse to do any CSR now because I’d rather just sleep when the students are checking in LOL. I’m glad that Matt lets me :^) Anyway, shift went okay but I was SO SLEEPY. Survived working, went back home to rest for a bit and Jerry came to pick me up and first stop was Panda Express because my dumbass was determined to get it before I leave and I have learned the hard way that some places here are impossible to get to by public transit. But Panda smelled so nice and nostalgic (suddenly transported back into CAB). I got chow mein, honey sesame chicken, orange chicken, and Beijing beef!

Next stop was Green Bottle for dinner. They gave us free "welcome" fries (with seasoning and honey) and a free polaroid photo of us to keep. Apparently they can tell we are not from here... help lol my tourist vibes (oh wait maybe it's because of my BC vaccine passport lmao). We ordered their fried chicken with cheese corn fondue. Very delicious!!! Also got this free lychee lemon shot lmao it legit tasted like lychee calpico water LOL. Not sure why they give so much free things but I support it. Next stop was Don't Yell at Me for bubble tea. I got their aiyu jelly frose yakult drink. Pretty good but I went for 多肉葡萄 but they don't even have it because it's seasonal. I also went for their cup logo but due to shipment problems they only had plain cups and I have never been so disappointed LOLLL. Why am I obsessed with logos :/

After bubble tea, I thought that we were going home but Jerry said we were going to karaoke and that the night has just started LMAO IM LIKE ITS 10PM but okay so we ended up at a KTV place. It was fine but after around 1.5 or 2 hours into it, we heard so much yelling and screaming and fighting and things getting smashed..... and then people kept running across our room and we were so scared and confused. T___T Eventually the police/ambulance all arrives and carried someone away on a stretcher. Police officers came and started questioning us if we knew the people who were involved. But we were literally in our room the entire time... I opened our door and looked out and saw drips of blood and then a huge pool of blood. The area was closed off with police tape. We were not allowed to go to the washroom or leave the place at all because it was a crime scene....... the KTV had the audacity to ask us to pay for the entire 3.5 hours even though half of our time was spend in fear and not actually singing because wtf......... how are we supposed to sing when people are dying outside and there was an attempted murder....... plus we couldn't ding anyone in because there was an entire squad outside our door???? anyways so scammed and traumatized lol. I wanna put this place on blast.

We were not allowed to leave until 2:30am (literally I was having a meltdown in the room while Jerry did Kpop girl group dances to distract us HDJSSKSLS LMAO he’s like “it’s fine, I work at a hospital, people die on me all the time” DJHJKFJSKFJKS). After the police took photos of our ID and we filled our witness account forms, we were finally allowed to go. It was so JAJDJDKSLSLSSL. Jerry and I were just two lost uninvolved kids..... I was so scared that they would trap me in there until 8am or something but I had to work so???? I had no battery on my phone and my contacts in my eyes for 20 hours....... and I had no idea how long we would be stuck in there. Someone pay for our therapy omg. So done. What is life... HDSJSSKS we were just trying to be productive and hang out lots but this is the result. Cries.......

#365 #52 #calgary #calgary trip 2021 #bubble tea #fried chicken #korean fried chicken #polaroid #karaoke #ktv #skyline #calgary skyline #so like... friends who experience life and death together stay together right JDHJKSHKJSF #i know this post is a little wild........ yes ikik #we literally went to 3832895 places in one afternoon i think we are insane for this #what a funny story to tell ppl in the future am i right haahahahahhahahahaaa (cries)#jerry told me that we should not see each other for awhile after this i found that so fucking funny HAHHAHAHAHAHA #this is how you KNOW the world is homophobic ok... when you put two of the most gayest gays together this is what happens :/#SOBS so 无辜 #minus the last part it was still a rly good day!!!!!!!#i was still happy until i started having a mental meltdown it's all good #it's a miracle that i had managed to sleep after that happened LMAO #once in a lifetime experience or s/t....#or maybe i am finally conan.....#saw a crime scene for the first time icb this boy sees this shit 5 times a day #i cannot DEAL #i was not having it #wtf jDJKJSFJSK #how are conan characters still mentally ok cus i am NOT #disclaimer: all pics taken were taken PRIOR to the incident (obviously) lol

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spectrumed · 3 years

Text

9. conversation

(I wrote this after having a few drinks, so I apologise for the occasional digression.)

One time, some years ago, I was at medborgarplatsen in Stockholm. I was about to watch a movie at the cinema there, Filmstaden Söder. I can’t remember the movie, but this was at a time I wanted to prove my worth as a cinephile, so it wasn’t a blockbuster. For those of you who don’t know the way around Stockholm, medborgarplatsen is a square that is pretty close to the heart of the city, some may even argue that it is the heart of the city (though, I wouldn’t.) The name translates to “the citizen’s place,” an example of Swedes’ general commitment to all things egalitarian. Though, nowadays, most citizens can only dream of living in a place as central as medborgarplatsen. Södermalm, the borough in which medborgarplatsen is located, used to be known as quite the working class slum. Though, like with most global cities these days, things have changed. I don’t much like to complain about gentrification, I think it has more to do with governments’ reluctance to build new apartments, preferring instead to stick their heads in the sand and pretend as if population numbers aren’t increasing. Like, sure, I am not asking you to tear down all those old buildings to build new ones that’ll have enough room for more people, all I am asking is for you to expand, build more homes near the city and develop the right kind of infrastructure and public transport that allows for people to not need a car to get around. Cities are supposed to be lived in, they are not history museums! It drives me nuts, all these NIMBYs and their incessant whining and complaining about basic and inevitable societal progress. GAH! JUST BUILD MORE GODDAMMIT!

… I am sorry, I think I happened upon a tangent here divorced from the actual topic I wish to discuss. In any case, I was about to watch a movie at the cinema, and I had an hour or so to spend before it started. I was around people. Naturally, I was uncomfortable. People, you never know what they’re up to. They could be spying on you. They could be recording you. Or worse, they could be entirely indifferent to your presence. It is scary how others treat you, or how they refuse to treat you. It is easier not to be around people. Or well, be around people on the internet. That way you can get some social interaction, without having to be physically present. Being face-to-face with a person, that can go either one of two ways. Either you find a familiar soul, someone you can relate to. Someone you can love. Someone you could imagine spending your life with. Or you find someone that makes you feel icky, someone who makes you want to jump off a cliff. And it is difficult to find a cliff when you’re standing in the middle of a city, at a public square. Not many cliffs are to be found in the middle of cities. You’ve likely experienced the sensation of finding yourself in an uncomfortable situation, one you wish you could escape from, yet knowing that you are stuck. The icy feeling overtaking you. The dread. The profound desire to just do whatever you can to convince whoever is pressuring you to go away and leave you alone. Even if that means paying them money.

A person came up to me looking for charitable donations. Now, I am not a rich man. I certainly don’t spend all day long biddy biddy bum. I am not a wealthy man with a wife looking like a rich man’s wife with a proper double-chin, supervising meals to her heart’s delight. I wish I could give more to charity, but I can’t. I feel very uncertain about my future. I fear for my economic prospects. Don’t ask me for money, I don’t have any to give. There are plenty of filthy rich people in this world, ask them for their charitable donations. Many of them don’t even pay taxes. Surely, they have lots of cash. They stay in their penthouses, worshipping Mammon, and they certainly don't go down any citizens’ squares. What kind of money do you expect to receive from bothering a person like me? I don’t look rich. Or maybe I do. Someone might look at me and think I’m one of those rich kinds of nerds, an internet wiz kid, a programmer who made some website that’s now really famous. In any case, I am not. I am just a lost and confused sheep yearning for a shepherd to guide me.

The person showed me a series of photographs of women being victimised. Some tortured, some beaten up, some exploited. Pakistani women. The person was raising money to help Pakistani women. A noble mission, certainly. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to say that “no, I don’t care about Pakistani women” and just walk away? I didn't want the person to think of me as some callous western chauvinist who isn’t willing to spend some of my money to make a real change. I do care. I care very deeply. But, well, I just don’t really have money. Not in that way. Not in a way that can make a difference. Still, if you’ve got a truly burning sense of justice, a desire to see things wrong get fixed, see the righteous win, then you will want any kind of cash donation you can get. I sympathise. I understand that the person showing me the photographs may not have cared to figure out whether I had money or not. I clearly did not look starving (I am fat.) Surely I could afford to make a donation. Even the littlest bit counts. I needed to give. They needed me to give. Just give a little bit. C’mon. Don’t you care about Pakistani women?

I ummed and ahhed for a bit. I felt cautious, nervous, wondering how I could possibly explain my concern for these women while also recognising my lack of being able to really contribute monetarily to help them. Of course, at the moment, my cognitive functions weren’t properly functioning. No, I was stammering, I was overwhelmed, I was suffering a sensory overload. All these people around me, all this noise. I could have given the person asking me for a donation just some coins, a paltry sum, then pretended as if that was enough. But I didn’t. I gave him half of the money that I had on me. Not too much, but a significant amount of Swedish crowns. More than the cinema ticket cost me. Money I wasn’t prepared to spend at that moment. Still, it served the purpose. It made the world around me calm down. It lessened the storm. I don’t want to live in a world of chaos. I want things to be ordered. An ordered world can be understood, it can be categorised. Chaotic agents threaten the peace. Chaos makes me worry I might be exposed. I don’t want anyone knowing just how weird I am, just the kind of freak that I am. I want them to think I am normal. It’s easier to pretend to be normal when everything is calm, when people don’t freak me out.

One of the biggest social mistakes I’ve made is engaging in conversation with a person claiming to need money to take a bus to the dentist. They claimed that they had a dentist appointment, and in fact, it was paid for. They just didn’t have the money to pay for the bus. They needed me to give them just that little bit of money to buy a bus ticket. Simple, right? They were eager to convince me, so they began sticking their finger in their mouth, pointing at the tooth that needed to be pulled out. I told them that they didn’t need to show me, I believed them. But of course, I only said that because they made me feel uncomfortable. Did I believe them? Of course not. The person was clearly just looking for cash, a real scam artist, but I wasn’t socially adept enough to dismiss them. Sure, I can look back on it and think about this or that thing I should've said. Instead I just awkwardly mentioned needing to catch my own bus and that I didn’t have the time to talk. The scam artist followed me, continuing to engage me in conversation. I tried to appear sympathetic, I tried to appear normal, and the person took advantage of that. They needled me. They urged me to pay attention to them, making me feel like a monster if I didn’t. In the end I told them I would get them the money, but instead I ran and stepped on the bus heading back home to my place. They didn’t follow me. Of course they didn’t follow me. They didn’t have a bus ticket.

I came across them later, days later, at the subway. They saw me, tried to get my attention, but I ran into the crowd, hitting the escalator before they could get close. Later I saw them get accosted by security guards, clearly reprimanded for their behaviour, scamming people. Cornering people, telling them lies, then asking for cash. That’s not virtuous behaviour. Still, the security guards could only do so much. Did they stop the person from trying to scam people? Of course not. The person kept on badgering whoever paid them just the littlest bit of attention. Whoever looked kind. Whoever would be inclined towards making charitable donations. I had escaped that one time, but the person was adamant that they wanted me to give them the money they thought they deserved. Whenever I’d take the subway, they’d be there, trying to get my attention. And I kept running. I kept doing my best to avoid them. I felt like a real fool. Why couldn’t I just assert myself, pump up my chest and tell them that I was on to them? I knew the truth, I knew they were a fraud. Yet, I just wanted to avoid it all. I wanted to pretend as if I didn’t know them. That everything was just calm and peaceful, and there wasn’t a storm brewing somewhere nearby. This was everything about being surrounded by people that I hated. This, right here, was the ultimate reason I knew for wanting to become a hermit. Not having to put up with this kind of bullshit.

One time, the last time, the person came up to me, I couldn’t escape. I was waiting for the train. I was about to get to a lecture. The person saw me, and they stood right in front me. I was wearing headphones. I pretended I could not hear them. I pretended I could not even conceive of them, as if my mind were someplace else entirely. I pretended as if I had erased them from existence. They didn’t immediately catch on. They stood in front of me and they began commenting on my appearance. They decided, quite unusually, to congratulate me for my beard. Stating that I looked good with facial hair. Of course, I do. My beard looks amazing. I am not insecure about my beard. I may be insecure about my weight, I may be insecure about some things, but the two things I am not insecure about are my height (I’m 6’2”) and my beard. Still, I refused to acknowledge the scam artist’s existence. Other people waiting for the train were looking at us. They thought it was strange that I just stood there, looking straight ahead ignoring the person standing in front of me. But I did what I needed to do. The scam artist touched me, I still ignored them. Honestly, that is one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever experienced. Their hand on my chest. Them touching me. Still, I didn’t budge. Eventually, they gave up. They went away. I had won. I should’ve felt good about myself, I had come out on top. But I didn’t. I still felt awful. I had hurt their feelings. Why am I so weird, why am I so awkward? I really don’t know how to behave like a normal person.

I think I do better in long conversations with people than in short little chats. You can’t just get a quick impression of me and think you know me. One reason why I don’t think I could ever make for a good one-night stand. Unless you know me, I’m not a real person. I am just a caricature. I don’t feel as if I am really there, as if my presence alone is enough to make me a person. I am only a person through commitment, through being understood by someone else that has the right kind of patience to put up with me. For the most part, only I myself have that kind of patience. That’s why I enjoy my own company. I feel as if I freak out too easily when meeting new people. I feel as if I overwhelm them with information, like as if I am some walking thunderstorm demanding their attention. Yes, that’s the great irony of it all. I say that I struggle to put up with the chaos of others, the wild sea of people swarming the city, yet I am the worst chaotic agent of them all. I am a mess of a person. I am hullabaloo incarnate. And that is why I feel such an incessant need to repress. Don’t press the button that lets open the floodgates. Keep it all bottled up. Keep on being repressed. Keep on staring straight forwards, ignoring that person trying to scam you for money.

Of course that person isn’t reading this blog post. They’re busy trying to find some other sucker to pay for their drug fix, or whatever it is that they need money for. Maybe they’re just trying to pay for rent. In any case, if I had the person here with me, right at this moment, I would tell them… Well, I would yell at them… I would absolutely admonish them… I would... I would… I would probably just ignore them. It is so easy to try and pretend as if you’re more sociable than you actually are. In your head, things seem so easy. Yes, I know what I’d say, I know exactly how to express myself. But in reality, well, things are complex, the overwhelming actuality of it all swamps you. When haven’t you had that idea for the perfect comeback of a line to sling at a person you’re quarrelling with only after the argument is over? When haven’t you had an idea for just the right and proper way to awe another person with your mind and your words. I am sure they will be impressed with me now, if only I say the right things. If only I can act the right way. If only I don’t fuck it up. If only I don’t act like such a dork.

This blog is easy. I get to think about every word I express here. I get to erase sentences I don’t like. That backspace on the keyboard, it’s well-worn with use. Some folks don’t understand how I can be autistic and still be as good with words as I am. This is my second language that I am writing in. I am not some mute little chicken, some gagged little monkey. I know how to express myself, when I get the time. When I get that moment to write, I will write, and I won’t stop until I am done. All my posts I tend to write in one go, late at night when I should be going to bed. When I am in the right mood. When all those synapses in my brain fire the right way. Those moments, they are common, but they aren’t to be summoned just when I need them. They come when they wish to come. I can only be a passenger, going along with my brain, doing whatever it demands. In those other moments, those moments I am standing there, waiting for the train, I may become entirely mute. I may not have a single thing to say. I may look like a real dummy, some real himbo, utterly lost for words. I am not pretending, at those moments. I truly am lost for words. At some times, language is easy. At other times, I don’t even understand how to string a basic sentence together.

I am tired. I am going to go to bed.

#neurodivergent #neurodiversity #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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