#freeways without futures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsign-venus · 1 month

Text

For the Love of Love | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader | Part II

Part I | Series Masterlist

Summary: You immediately have doubts. As the morning goes on, they only get stronger. Good thing Bradley can be normal about this. Right?

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fake dating, fake dating Bradley Bradshaw in particular, completely implied age gap

a/n: Thank all y'all for the response to the first part :) I was so nervous to post it, but everyone has been so kind and encouraging! Also, I've created a taglist for this series -- please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates! Ok, ok, let's get this show on the road (literally, we're on the way to Tahoe lol), enjoy x

It was 6:15 am. Streetlights washed your walls a bright, sterile white. You paced in front of your door. Next to it, your pink luggage set waited for you dutifully. Bradley was supposed to pick you up 15 minutes ago. He hadn’t responded to any of your texts. Or your calls.

Were you dumb for thinking he really wanted to join you – and your entire family – in Tahoe? Was he drunker than he let on last night, or maybe he forgot entirely? You hoped not, you’d already bought him the seat next to you on the plane. You really didn’t want to explain to your parents why they were paying for two plane seats when only you arrived at the cabin.

You checked your phone. 6:17. Soon, you’d have to drive by yourself. Maybe he’d catch you at the airport.

Just as you made for your keys, there was a sharp knock at your door. You undid the deadbolt and flung it open. Bradley stood in the sickly yellow light of the hallway, looking better than you wanted him to in just gray sweats and a black hoodie.

“Good morning!” He was surprisingly chirpy for how early it was.

“You’re late. Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

“What texts?”

“The texts I sent you?” You grabbed all three pieces of your luggage and struggled through the door frame.

“My phone died.” He was tapping his phone screen like he was just realizing that it wasn’t turning on. He gave up, pocketed the phone, and lifted the two biggest suitcases out of your hands. “Jesus, how long are we going to be gone? It’s like you packed your whole closet.”

“Three days. But I have to be prepared.” You locked up your apartment and started down the stairs, your suitcase clanking down each step. Your neighbors were probably thrilled.

Bradley followed behind you, lifting your other suitcases as if they weighed nothing.

“So you’re just going to travel with a dead phone?” You asked when you finally made it to the lobby.

He shrugged. “Is your phone charged?”

“Of course.”

“Works good enough for me.”

He reached over your head to hold open the front door as you dragged your suitcase into the brisk early morning. His Bronco shone like adventure. You and Bradley loaded your luggage, and he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat.

“Coffees?” You asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car.

He glanced down at the twin iced coffees lined up in the cupholders between you. “I thought it'd help us get through the early morning. I didn’t know what you liked though, so I just got you my drink.”

You stabbed a straw through the plastic lid of the coffee and took a sip. It was shockingly sweet. You coughed a little.

“You like it?” Bradley smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’ve perfected my order. Caramel and white mocha and cinnamon sprinkle on top.”

You take another sip. Without the sweetness taking you by surprise, it was much better. “It’s good. I would have pegged you for a hot black coffee guy, though.”

“I’m full of surprises.” He merged on the freeway.

The sound of the road passing under the Bronco filled the silence of the car.

“So…” Bradley tapped his thumb against the Bronco’s wheel, the echoes of some song you didn’t know. “What’s your family like?”

You watched lights flick on in the windows of the buildings you passed. People getting ready for their typical days. You pressed down a shock of panic. This was absurd. But Bradley seemed committed, and if it was going to work, you had to set him up for success. That meant warning him about your family.

“Well, my Grandma Sybil and Grandpa Thomas have been married for sixty years. Obviously.” Nervous laughter bubbled from your lips before you could stop it. “They’re Grandma and Grandpa. I grew up going to their house and stuffing myself on her cookies and falling asleep on his lap. But Grandma Sybil can be… stern.”

He stopped tapping his thumb to snag his coffee and take a sip. “Like, how so?”

“She’s just a little rough around the edges. She had a tough life before meeting my grandfather, and though she softened to him, I don’t think she softened much to the rest of the world. Just, don’t take it personally if she doesn’t warm up to you right away. Or at all.”

“Noted.” You heard him swallow.

You picked at a seam in your pants. “And their oldest daughter is my Aunt Marnie. She’s married to Uncle Jim. They run a crystal shop just outside of Vegas. They might try to push moonstone or onyx on you. Just smile and accept it.”

“Ok. Marnie and Jim. Crystals.” He committed the names to memory.

“Their daughter Sabrine just got married.”

“You went to the wedding, I remember.”

You flushed, grateful that the sun hadn’t quite risen yet and the hotness of your cheeks dissipated in the darkened car. He had remembered. You didn’t think any detail of your life was important enough for him to care to remember – and it really was just one week that you were gone – but maybe your life had bled into the Daggers’ more than you thought.

As the airport came into view, you told him about Sabrine and how she would bring her new husband Matt. She was already seven months pregnant. Grandma Sybil was less than pleased, but Grandpa Thomas either didn’t care or hadn't worked out the math.

“And what do your aunt and uncle think?” Bradley asked.

“I think they’re just happy that she’s happy. They sound excited to be grandparents. But Auntie Marnie did complain that the wedding was tacky.”

Bradley snorted. “Was it?”

“It was sweet,” you said. “It was in his mom’s backyard. The colors were red and black, but it was sweet.”

An airplane roared overhead, glinting in the sun that was just sharpening over the horizon.

Bradley pulled into the airport’s parking garage. He had only packed himself a duffle bag, so he was able to carry all of your luggage plus his own. In exchange, you carried both coffees and locked the Bronco. You slipped Bradley’s keys into his pocket as he instructed, your fingers warming where they grazed the fabric of his sweats.

The airport was fizzing with the whispers of early morning travelers. You rubbed your eyes as you stepped under the fluorescent lights, taking stock of just how many others were yawning and lining up at the baggage counter under those same lights. Why was the airport so busy before 7am?

As if he could read your mind (or maybe he just saw you tense up at the sight of so many people), Bradley said, “It’s ok. We still have time.”

His reassurance drove you to action. You traded his coffee for your bags and shuffled into line for the check in counter. From the standstill line, you watched Bradley as he wandered around the walkway, taking sips of his coffee, staring up at the ceiling, and generally being a 6’1” hazard to the travelers rushing to get to the TSA line. You rolled your suitcases across the green gray carpets the check in counter line eked forward, nearly running into the old man in front of you as you kept your gaze on Bradley. Why was even his boredom endearing?

Just before you got to the front of the line, he stopped and stared up at the ceiling, causing a woman who was looking at her phone to crash into him. You giggled as you watched him apologize, and saw, in real time, as the woman went from indignant to flustered as she realized how hot he was. She tried to strike up a conversation, but he caught your gaze from across the room. Her eyes followed his, and when it hit you, she was quick to disappear into the airport crowd.

Your face grew hot. You mouthed sorry to him as the woman at the counter was calling you forward. You were a little sorry; she was very pretty. But some part of you delighted in being perceived as his girlfriend, even if it was easier to convince a stranger than your family.

“Ma’am, next guest.” The stern voice of the woman at the counter shook you from your thoughts.

Once your bags were checked, you caught up with Bradley. The two of you rounded the corner only to stop short when you saw the enormous security line.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groaned.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only 7:15.” Bradley nudged your shoulder with his. “Plus, it gives us time to get our story straight.”

“Our story?” You asked as you both stepped into line.

“Yeah. Like, how did we meet?”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Nat introduced us.”

“That was quick.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Well, let’s try to stick with reality as much as possible. And my family loves Nat, her stamp of approval will go down great.” You really hoped no one could hear you two. But the steady murmur of overlapping early-morning conversation seemed to drown out your weird topic of conversation.

“Well, how long have we been dating?”

That you had to think about. “Well, it can’t be too short, otherwise it would be weird that I’m bringing you.”

“It’s already weird.” He laughed.

“They don’t need to know that,” you said. “How long do you think we could pass for? 2 months? 6?”

“Aren’t they going to ask why you’ve never talked about me or brought me around?”

“Good point. We’ll say 4, and I’ll just tell them I wanted to be sure before I told them about you.”

“You think we could convince them we’ve been dating for four months?”

You shrugged, but your stomach somersaulted. “We can try.”

“Like this?” He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers between yours.

Your hand tensed. Your stomach did a whole gymnastics routine. You were holding hands with Bradley Bradshaw in the airport. You looked around, sure that any TSA agent in your vicinity could sense your anxiety and pull you for secondary screening.

“Relax.” He patted your hand with his free one. “We’re not going to get far like this.”

You forced your fingers to meld with his. The iced coffee and your nerves were a terrible mix for your empty stomach.

“Better.” He kept hold of your hand as you shuffled up the line. Then he grinned.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You know those couples in lines at amusement parks?” A lopsided smile brightened his face. “When they’re waiting in line?”

“The ones that are really into PDA?”

“Exactly.” He dropped your hand, slid up behind you, and wrapped his arms across your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. “All we need to do is follow their lead.”

You did everything in your power to stay upright and keep your breathing steady with his chin pressing into your skin. He kept hold of you as the line moved up. You clenched your hands, your nails digging crescents into your palms. There was no way he couldn’t hear your racing heart and your ragged breathing.

“And there’s this move.”

As the line slouched to a stop, he spun you around, still keeping hold of your waist, but now you were face to face. You looked up at him, tried to form a sentence, but found yourself completely dumb. He leaned his forehead against yours. Surely he could feel the warmth of your face, see the confused longing in your eyes. He smiled at you for just a second before he broke away from you and threw his head back laughing, drawing glares from your fellow sleep-deprived travelers.

You were practically mute through the rest of security. Bradley seemed to have fun grabbing your hand, draping an arm around your shoulders, and messing with your hair. You wondered if he knew the effect he was having on you or if he was earnestly trying to practice for your family. Maybe he was just trying to rile you up.

“You were great.” He patted the top of your head, causing your heart to shrivel a bit. “We’ll have them all wrapped around our fingers.”

You cleared your throat and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Once you were through security, you broke up to scrounge some breakfast. Well, that’s what you let Bradley think anyway. You tried to beat down the butterflies in your stomach as you wove between slow-walking travelers toting huge suitcases and knots of families with waddling toddlers, straight to the bathroom.

The stall offered you just enough privacy to freak out. You felt your face, your waist, flexed your hands right in front of your eyes. It took you months to not freak out about the platonic arm draped around your shoulders, his quick hugs goodbye at the Hard Deck. How on Earth were you going to be normal about this?

He complimented you on a job well done, but in truth, he did all the work. You didn’t reach out for him once in the security line. Would your family even believe you liked him? After that performance, the idea that they could possibly think that you were in love seemed laughable.

The weekend stretched long ahead of you. You were beginning to realize how stupid it was for you to begin such a ruse that you’d have to keep up for three days. You wondered if Bradley would react poorly to being sent home after already getting through security.

You hurriedly texted Nat – who knew very well how you felt about her coworker, almost to the point where she might have purposefully orchestrated your trip. It was a bit of a text wall, detailing the TSA line and your dread about the weekend. If she wasn’t already working, she would probably be asleep for three more hours, so you pocketed your phone after hitting send.

The sound of a flushing toilet reminded you that, yes, you were having a small crisis in a public bathroom. That thought was so sad that you took a deep breath, set your shoulders, and walked out of the stall to face the world.

From a little store, you picked up a berry parfait for breakfast and a bottled orange juice, since the TSA confiscated your half-empty iced coffee.

You found Gate 4. People were falling asleep upright in the airport seats, blankets and pillows abound. It smelled like the Jack in the Box across the way. You found two empty seats by the window and kicked up your feet to reserve one for Bradley.

He found you ten minutes later, carrying a bag stuffed with two bagels – one sausage and egg breakfast sandwich and one cinnamon raisin with strawberry cream cheese, he explained. You nodded as you dropped your feet and scraped the rest of your yogurt out of your cup.

“So your cousin Sabrine is pregnant and your grandma isn’t happy,” he said around a big bite of bagel, egg, and sausage. “What else?”

“Well, my grandparents’ youngest child is Auntie Elaine. She lives in Alaska with her husband. They breed sled dogs.”

Bradley paused right before another bite. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Some of their dogs run the Iditarod, and I think one was part of the winning team a few years back. They have twins a little older than me. Nora and her wife Madison, they’re… really cool. Last I heard, they were climbing K2. And there’s Nora’s twin brother Owen. He has a girlfriend named Addison, which I think is funny. Madison and Addison. The twins don’t think it’s as funny as I do.”

Bradley laughed. The bagel sandwich was gone, and he traded the leftover wad of greasy wrapping paper for the cinnamon raisin bagel. “And what’s the deal with Owen and Addison?”

“They’re pretty chill.” You thought about it for a minute. “Owen used to punch drywall, but he’s calmed down.”

Bradley stared at you, waiting for you to laugh.

The gate agent called you to board before you could explain. Though you didn’t think any explanation would be helpful.

The plane ride was nice and short. You slept through most of the hour and a half. You were mortified to wake up on Bradley’s shoulder as the plane jolted in the harsh turbulence that shrouded the Reno airport.

You sat bolt upright, fully awake. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He patted your thigh assuredly. “It’s good practice.”

You didn’t have time to freak out at his touch because the plane rocked again. You’d experienced this turbulence countless times, something about the mountains and the desert air made the plane bounce around like a toy in the hands of an overexcited toddler. Still, as the plane jerked down, it planted a pit in your stomach that made your hands clammy.

When the plane dipped again, you clutched the armrest. You didn’t want to look at Bradley, who probably thought your overreaction was silly. He’d experienced g-forces upwards of 8Gs countless times. It was bad enough flying next to Nat, who you knew would never judge you, but next to Bradley, you felt like a little kid scared of the dark.

“Hey,” he gingerly pried your hand off the armrest and held it with a softness you didn’t expect from him, “look at me.”

You tore your eyes away from the flight tracker on the display in front of you, worried you’d see judgment in his dark eyes. But his expression was everything soft.

He smiled when you met his gaze. “We’re going to be fine. Trust me, I’ve flown a plane or two.”

You laughed despite the plane suddenly banking upward.

He squeezed your hand as the plane leveled. “So here’s the deal: you keep looking at me. You can only panic if I start panicking. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

He held your hand and your eyes until the plane kissed the blessed tarmac. By then, the pit in your stomach had been flooded with a mushy feeling you simply did not have time to drain because the seatbelt sign dinged off, and you had a rental car to secure.

Getting out of the airport went as smoothly as possible. Within 20 minutes of deboarding, you and all your luggage was crammed into a rental Prius. Bradley’s nose crinkled when he first saw it, but he folded himself into the passenger seat without complaint.

You fiddled with the radio until you got it to play a throwback ‘70s station, then peeled out of the airport. Soon, the dusty city of Reno and its casinos were in the rearview, and the Sierra Nevadas loomed large on the horizon. When the road lifted off the desert floor and began winding through the foothills, childhood excitement drummed through your veins. As the car screamed along the highway, desert scrub blurred into pine trees that jutted straight up toward the endless blue sky. Patches of snow bloomed in their shade.

“Wow,” Bradley said as the trees grew thicker like a tightly stitched blanket over the mountains. Snow carpeted the ground. Little cabins shone through the forest and snow like jewels.

“Wait until we get around this mountain.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You carefully made a sharp turn, the mountainside steep and unwelcoming. But as the car straightened out, the trees yawned apart, and you caught Bradley gawking at the lake out of the corner of your eye.

Nestled between snow-draped mountains, it shone like a sapphire in the late morning sun.

You’d spent several summers splashing in its frigid waters with your cousins until your skin was so covered in goosebumps that Grandma Sybil threatened to pluck you for Christmas dinner. The same lake was the backdrop to hundreds upon hundreds of ski runs and one trip down the mountain with ski patrol. Your arm still ached to think about that late February day, even all these years later.

“It’s beautiful,” Bradley said, and you agreed wholeheartedly.

Your phone’s navigation system stated that there was only 20 minutes until you reached your grandparent’s cabin. You sucked in a breath between your teeth and cracked a window, hoping the cold, piny air would help settle your stomach. It didn’t. But you still had to finish giving Bradley the family rundown.

“My parents are Sean and Catherine,” you said. “My dad might try to intimidate you, but don’t worry, he’s a softie.”

“Ok.”

You couldn’t be sure he was paying attention, as his face was all but pressed against the window, soaking in the spectacular views. Even if you wanted to be mad, you really couldn’t blame him.

You stepped on the breaks as the road started dipping down a little. “My mom will be the most problematic. I swear sometimes she can read my mind. Whatever we do, it’ll be hard to convince her.”

“We’re going to be there in 18 minutes. Next time, a little more heads up please?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Just tell her that you take me to Vino in La Jolla and buy me flowers.”

“Is that what your ideal man would do?”

Would it be so bad if you just drove off the road? The steep mountainside looked more inviting by the second.

“Shut up.” You froze your gaze to the winding road. “I have a brother, his name is Tommy.”

“I know,” he said. “I think I’ve met him once – when he was in San Diego for spring break?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” you said. “Well, he and his girlfriend Georgia are high school sweethearts. They’re the perfect couple, and it makes me sick.”

Bradley chuckled. “Noted.”

“So first goal: be believable.”

He laid his hand on your thigh. “Done.”

“Good.” His hand was burning hot. The car swerved ever so slightly as you lost focus on the road for a moment. “Second goal: be a better couple than Tommy and Georgia.”

“Let’s not try to overshoot this. We’ve only been dating for 4 months.”

You laughed in spite of yourself. When you eventually found your real partner, and everyone gathered in Tahoe again for Tommy and Georgia’s wedding, or a wintery ski trip, or whatever comes next for your family, you’ll come clean. You’ll cling to your partner and tell everyone all about your good friend Bradley Bradshaw and how the two of you never really dated. Your grandparents’ anniversary will be a hazy memory, but everyone will remember the tall, good-looking naval aviator and his (totally out of season) Hawaiian shirts and giant mustache. There would be shock, but eventually it would be an inside joke for years to come. You just had to get through this weekend.

Too soon, you were pulling into the cabin’s long, steep driveway. The cabin itself jutted off of the mountainside, its tapered roof giving it a harsh look, though you swore when you were little it just made it look cozy and inviting. Its windows were like glassy eyes following the Prius.

You put the car in park and turned to Bradley.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Ready, babe.”

Before you could fully register the fact that he called you babe, the cabin’s front door slammed open, and your family bursted out to greet you and the mysterious man you’d arrived with.

The knot in your stomach tightened like a noose.

Taglist:

*let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!*

@djs8891 @avengersfan25 @cornishkat @julielightwood @makingpeoplelaughsince1995 @abitdemented @darksparklesficrecs @igotmajordaddyissues @cupofchamomileeee @imaginationlover101 @simpfictionalcharacters

#top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

182 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 8 months

Text

The Nightmare Factory: Origins

nightmare!eddie x Reader

Masterlist

a little peek into how Eddie got the job

Sigh, yet another blurb that turned into 2k. There is mention of Reader in this, but no actual interaction. We get to meet the notorious Kevin and get a glimpse at the inside of the building where nightmare!eddie works, as well as run into a few of his future co-workers. I love those of you who have shown interest in this; let me know if there are certain things/events you'd like to see. wc: 2.2k

18+ONLY, mature themes, horror, nothing bad happens but there will be mention of gore and scary things. Nightmare!eddie, Gareth, a ventriloquist doll, liminal spaces, mention of spiders and creepy dolls. A severed foot. I write these like a fever dream and then post them, so I hope it makes a decent amount of sense.

---------

When Wayne told Eddie that there were positions open at the Nightmare Factory, it just so happened that he was tired of slaving over a grill every day and ready for something new. But he wasn't interested in working at a desk or on the janitorial team—he wanted to travel and scare the shit out of a few people.

From the trailer park, he could see the tall stacks in the distance, jutting up into the sky, pumping out industrial black smoke from somewhere inside the factory. He never realized how much elbow grease went into producing nightmares.

The Nightmare Factory had not always been there. One day, it just appeared, as it was prone to do in various locations all over the world. Months ago, he was having a smoke out behind the diner where he worked the kitchen, when a creepy doll head fell from the sky and bounced to the ground. It rolled to the edge of the nearby dumpster and wedged there.

He yelled for Gareth to come out so he could tell him what just happened.

“It’s raining heads,” Eddie blew a raspberry laugh after he said it, and the two of them bent to get a closer look.

The plastic doll head had long, patchy, auburn hair that fell over its face, and it was missing a glass eyeball. Eddie picked it up and stood to full height, turning it around to give it a look. A thick, slimy centipede slithered out of the empty eye socket and crawled over Eddie’s finger, making him yelp and throw the thing.

He shook his hand out, making sure the centipede was not still on him. Not too far away on the pavement, the head now looked molded and rotten, as if it had been made of living tissue.

“It’s that fucking Nightmare Factory, I’m telling you,” Gareth insisted, wiping his hands on his apron. “It just showed up a couple days ago, and yesterday I saw a frog walking on its hind legs with a mouth full of vampire teeth.”

Eddie licked his lips, thoughtfully.

Soon enough, he was driving to the factory in question with his resume next to him in the seat, wearing the nicest shirt and pair of jeans he owned, and he even had his hair tied back—at Wayne’s urging. “You’re not a drug dealer anymore, son, you need to look presentable.”

Upon arrival, an ornate, iron gate opened at the entrance, and he followed in what appeared to have once been a car. The metal was dented all over like a piece of balled-up paper, and the blue paint chipped in areas to expose the dull yellow underneath. The passenger window was nothing but saran wrap secured with duct tape, and there were a few aluminum cans tied to the bumper with string. The cans were pock-marked and rusted, and the vehicle drove at a tilt as if the tires on one side were too small.

On the back window, there was white writing, scrawled as if with a non-dominant hand. Eddie squinted at the lettering, saying it out loud as he read: JUST DEAD.

He parked the van in front of one of the visitor placards right next to a wood-paneled station wagon.

On the outside, the factory looked like an old, abandoned steel mill you might see from the freeway as you passed, but inside—it offered the aesthetic of a pristine, marble floor museum. A museum without any artifacts or art—just bare, cream walls, one long hallway of doors, low, fluorescent lighting, a reception desk, and a pair of mysterious double doors to the right.

Eddie’s footsteps echoed in the empty hall as he made his way over to the reception desk.

The secretary was bent over behind the desk, possibly jotting down a note, when Eddie cleared his throat to get her attention. She had on a light blue, pillbox hat from the 60’s with a matching suit, and wore her hair in a short, platinum blonde bob.

When she looked up at him, he realized her face was made of fiberglass—her pink lips and wide, a tiny, sharp nose, and blue eyes frozen in time. There was a lightning-shaped crack down her cheek that feathered out down her neck, and he realized then, with one glance down at her stiff hands, that she was a broken mannequin.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked without moving her mouth; lips slightly parted and turned up at one corner.

“Um, yeah, no,” Eddie stammered, taken aback when a few small spiders crawled out of the crack on her face. “I’m here about the job opening.”

“Ah, well then you’ll need to meet with Kevin,” she confirmed, running her beige, plastic hand down some scribbles on a big appointment book. “He is the only door on the 3rd floor. I’ll let him know you are on your way.”

“Oh great, thanks,” Eddie moved his hand to flash her the devil horns, but then he realized that might not be appropriate, faltered a bit, and then chose a thumbs up instead. “I like that color blue on you, it matches your eyes.”

The receptionist couldn’t blush, but she did give a high-pitched giggle at the compliment.

There were two sets of elevator doors, and while he waited in front of one for it to open, the one next to it dinged, and a group of tall, thin men in black coats with no faces and hooks for hands stepped out. They seemed to glide on the air more than walk, and he wondered if they had any feet. One gave a wave of his hook to Eddie and mumbled, “morning,” as they moved to enter one of the doors across the way.

The hallway to Kevin’s office had a clear, aquarium floor with colorful fish fluttering around in Eddie’s path, and he stopped to admire them for a minute as a smile stretched around his face. There was mellow jazz playing from a speaker somewhere overhead it reminded him of the waiting room at the dentist office. It wasn’t long before a severed foot that looked like it had been sawed or bitten off at the ankle floated through the aquarium beneath him, and Eddie’s smile dropped. The toe was nearly bitten off by little fish nibbles.

“This fucking place,” he whispered to himself, one fist in the pocket of his leather jacket, as he took note of the portrait painting on the wall from the early 1900’s of a woman in a dress sitting in a chair, and it looked like her eyes had been cut out, offering two perfect ovals for another pair of eyes to peep out.

The door to Kevin’s office was open, so Eddie rapped his knuckle on the wall and stuck his head in. “Hello? Kevin? I’m here about the job?”

When he didn’t get a response, he pushed in a bit further, with caution.

The inside looked like the library of some distinguished gentleman; a big oak desk backed by floor to ceiling rows of books; a globe on a brass stand; oil paintings with ornate frames; a cigar smoldering in a glass ashtray near the cream-colored phone with the blinking red light on it.

Eddie made one last attempt: “Hello?”

“I’m right here, you knob,” a tiny, irritated voice said.

Eddie turned to follow the sound, and the chair behind the desk spun around to reveal what appeared to be a ventriloquist doll in a blue and white sailor suit, sitting atop a few thick encyclopedias so that he could reach the top of the desk. It had a big, abnormal grin on its face that hinged at the chin, and eyebrows too high on the head, as if he were eternally shocked, framed in a swirl of brown, plastic hair.

“That's me. I am Kevin. Go ahead, sit,” the doll extended his arm, motioning to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. They were both small, plastic chairs meant for children, and Eddie eyed them with trepidation. Before he could sit, he had to move a thick book titled “Ruling the World for Dummies” and set it on the desk. His hips barely fit as he shoved down into the seat, angling his head all the way back to look up at Kevin.

He slid his resume forward on the wood as if he were a middle school kid handing in his homework.

Kevin hopped from the stack of books onto the desk in his shiny black shoes and looked over the piece of paper—his featureless fingers flexing.

“A mechanic and a line cook,” Kevin’s eyes clicked as he looked at the typed out words, and then found Eddie’s eager gaze over the top of the page. “So, no nightmare experience?”

Eddie’s brain scurried for the correct answer. “Well, not professionally, no. But I’m a quick study, and my life is kind of one big nightmare, if you know what I mean,” he rubbed his sweaty palms up and down on the knees of his jeans while Kevin returned a blank—albeit perpetually alarmed—expression.

“Can you work weekends?”

“Yes.”

“Evenings?”

“Sure. Well, except some Fridays and Tuesdays. My band, we—”

“What about portals? Do you experience motion sickness during interdimensional travel?” Kevin interrupted.

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” Eddie moved his eyes around the room, keeping his head still.

“Are you willing to sign an NDA in regards to this facility, and any activities that take place herein?”

Eddie considered that for a second, wondering how strictly they enforced the non-disclosure agreement. At the end of the day, he really didn’t talk to many people, but it was hard for him to keep his mouth shut around those he did interact with.

“Sure,” Eddie shrugged.

“Great. Swell.” Kevin dropped the resume, letting it slip off the desk and flutter to the ground without a second thought. He bent down to pick up the cigar that was still smoldering and stuffed the fat end in between his grinning lips. The smoke he inhaled came out his ears. “You’re hired. Benefits start after 30 days. Come back tomorrow around the same time and someone will give you a tour and set you up with a locker.”

Eddie moved to stand up and thank him, but his ass was stuck in the chair, so he sat back down for the time being.

“Do you know what type of nightmares you want to specialize in?” Kevin asked.

Eddie hadn’t considered any of that. “Um, what are my options?”

Kevin rolled his eyes and put his cigar back down. “Do you even have any idea what we do here?”

“I’ll be honest, man,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, offering a bit of a smirk. “I'm just looking for a paycheck. But I’m a hard worker, I’ll take anything you throw at me.”

What Kevin didn’t tell him was that Eddie was the only applicant they’d had all week. Work conditions were rather dismal at the factory as of late, and the turn-over rate was astronomical; there were Nightmare Scholars with several degrees still slumming it as closet monsters and ghosts that tapped on windows pretending to be a branch.

But, Eddie was fine with it. He wasn’t interested in a career in nightmares—his music was all that mattered to him back then.

Back before your nightmares were all he cared about.

“At the end of the hall on the first floor, there’s a bulletin board with the positions that are available. You’ll need to pick one, and then Walter will get you enrolled in whatever classes you need.”

“Walter?” Eddie asked, looking around, as if the Walter in question might appear at any second from out of the bookshelf.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow,” Kevin’s head turned to the side, but his body stayed facing forward. “He’s a swamp monster; big guy. He’s in charge of all the new trainees. Man’s got a particular foul odor about him, but damn his wife is a great cook.”

Eddie’s wallet chain clinked against the plastic chair as he forced it off his hips like popping out a cork, and he thanked Kevin with a wave.

Little did he know then what a pain in his ass Kevin would be.

Little did he know that, some 2 years later, he’d be so dedicated to the work that they’d be offering him a promotion.

They offered to put him in a training position, or behind a desk sorting dream journal entries, but he had no interest in such things. They could keep their promotions.

He needed to stay on the ground, in the trenches.

Until he could find a way out of your dreams and into your arms. --------

This is dedicated to my darling Kiya and their generous donation to my Kofi...it meant the world to me 🧡🧡

-------

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #The nightmare factory #nightmare!eddie #Eddie munson series #spooky season fic #eddie munson fluff

163 notes · View notes

newhologram · 1 year

Text

“I write this eulogy while looking across one of the ten-lane freeways P-22 somehow miraculously crossed in 2012, gazing at a view of his new home, Griffith Park. Burbank Peak and the other hills that mark the terminus of the Santa Monica Mountains emerge from this urban island like sentinels making a last stand against the second largest city in the country. The traffic noise never ceases. Helicopters fly overhead. The lights of the city give the sky no peace.

“Yet a mountain lion lived here, right here in Los Angeles.

“I can’t finish this sentence without crying because of the past tense. It’s hard to imagine I will be writing about P-22 in the past tense now.

"Biologists and veterinarians with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife announced today they have made the difficult decision to end P-22’s suffering and help him transition peacefully to the next place. I hope his future is filled with endless forests without a car or road in sight and where deer are plentiful, and I hope he finally finds the mate that his island existence denied him his entire life.

“I am so grateful I was given the opportunity to say goodbye to P-22. Although I have advocated for his protection for a decade, we had never met before. I sat near him, looking into his eyes for a few minutes, and told him he was a good boy. I told him how much I loved him. How much the world loved him. And I told him I was so sorry that we did not make the world a safer place for him. I apologized that despite all I and others who cared for him did, we failed him.

“I don’t have any illusion that my presence or words comforted him. And I left with a great sadness I will carry for the rest of my days.

“Before I said goodbye, I sat in a conference room with team members from the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, and the team of doctors at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. The showed me a video of P-22’s CT scan, images of the results, and my despair grew as they outlined the list of serious health issues they had uncovered from all their testing: stage two kidney failure, a weight of 90 pounds (he normally weighs about 125), head and eye trauma, a hernia causing abdominal organs to fill his chest cavity, an extensive case of demodex gatoi (a parasitic skin infection likely transmitted from domestic cats), heart disease, and more. The most severe injuries resulted from him being hit by a car last week, and I thought of how terrible it was that this cat, who had managed to evade cars for a decade, in his weakened and desperate condition could not avoid the vehicle strike that sealed his fate.

“As the agency folks and veterinarians relayed these sobering facts to me, tissue boxes were passed around the table and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. This team cares just as much for this cat as we all do. They did everything they could for P-22 and deserve our gratitude.

“Although I wished so desperately he could be returned to the wild, or live out his days in a sanctuary, the decision to euthanize our beloved P-22 is the right one. With these health issues, there could be no peaceful retirement, only some managed care existence where we prolonged his suffering — not for his benefit, but for ours.

“Those of us who have pets know how it feels when we receive news from the veterinarian that we don’t want to hear. As a lifelong dog and cat owner, I have been in this dreadful position too many times. The decision to let them go is never easy, but we as humans have the ability, the responsibility, and the selflessness to show mercy to end the suffering for these beloved family members, a compassionate choice we scarcely have for ourselves.

“I look at Griffith Park through the window again and feel the loss so deeply. Whenever I hiked to the Hollywood sign, or strolled down a street in Beachwood Canyon to pick up a sandwich at The Oaks, or walked to my car after a concert at the Greek Theater, the wondrous knowledge that I could encounter P-22 always propelled me into a joyous kind of awe. And I am not alone — his legion of stans hoped for a sight of Hollywood’s most beloved celebrity, the Brad Pitt of the cougar world, on their walks or on their Ring cams, and when he made an appearance, the videos usually went viral. In perhaps the most Hollywood of P-22’s moments, human celebrity Alan Ruck, star of Succession, once reported seeing P-22 from his deck, and shouting at him like a devoted fan would.

“We will all be grappling with the loss of P-22 for some time, trying to make sense of a Los Angeles without this magnificent wild creature. I loved P-22 and hold a deep respect for his intrepid spirit, charm, and just plain chutzpah. We may never see another mountain lion stroll down Sunset Boulevard or surprise customers outside the Los Feliz Trader Joe’s. But perhaps that doesn’t matter — what matters is P-22 showed us it’s possible.

“He changed us. He changed the way we look at LA. And his influencer status extended around the world, as he inspired millions of people to see wildlife as their neighbors. He made us more human, made us connect more to that wild place in ourselves. We are part of nature and he reminded us of that. Even in the city that gave us Carmeggedon, where we thought wildness had been banished a long time ago, P-22 reminded us it’s still here.

“His legacy to us, and to his kind will never fade. He ensured a future for the entire population of mountain lions in the Santa Monica Mountains by inspiring us to build the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing, which broke ground this spring.

“P-22 never fully got to be a mountain lion. His whole life, he suffered the consequences of trying to survive in unconnected space, right to the end when being hit by a car led to his tragic end. He showed people around the world that we need to ensure our roads, highways, and communities are better and safer when people and wildlife can freely travel to find food, shelter, and families. The Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing would not have been possible without P-22, but the most fitting memorial to P-22 will be how we carry his story forward in the work ahead. One crossing is not enough — we must build more, and we must continue to invest in proactive efforts to protect and conserve wildlife and the habitats they depend on — even in urban areas.

“P-22’s journey to and life in Griffith Park was a miracle. It’s my hope that future mountain lions will be able to walk in the steps of P-22 without risking their lives on California’s highways and streets. We owe it to P-22 to build more crossings and connect the habitats where we live now.

“Thank you for the gift of knowing you, P-22. I’ll miss you forever. But I will never stop working to honor your legacy, and although we failed you, we can at least partly atone by making the world safer for your kind.”

#p22 #rip #los angeles #animal death

252 notes · View notes

allthingsfangirl101 · 1 year

Text

My Dream–Steve Harrington

My adrenaline was still pumping as we drove onto the freeway with our stolen RV. I turned around and studied the kids, checking them over for injuries. When all I saw was a group of tired teenagers, I sighed and turned back around.

"They okay?" Steve asked, glancing at me.

"A little tired," I smiled, "but okay for a group of kids who just stole a van."

"Well, we were already harboring a fugitive," he sighed. "Might as well add grand theft auto to the list."

"We're going to be fine," I reassured. "Even if we aren't, you and I will take care of them."

"That's for sure," Steve laughed. We were silent for a few miles, no one having the energy to talk. I glanced over and saw Steve gently touching the bruise on his neck.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. He looked at me, seeing that I had caught him. He sent me a reassuring smile that I saw right through.

"I'm alright," he said.

"Steve," I sighed. I reached over and grabbed his hand. He sighed as he intertwined our fingers, squeezing my hand.

"I know we haven't hung out that much since middle school," I hesitated, "but I like to think that we're still friends."

"I think so," Steve shrugged. He looked over at me and smiled.

When we were little, Steve and I were inseparable. Until Tommy H came into the picture. It wasn't right away but eventually, Tommy convinced Steve to leave me behind. I wasn't sure what Tommy said to him but Steve slowly stopped hanging out with me. I never blamed Steve for it. Tommy? I hated the guy.

"Good," I said, trying to ignore the blush rising on my face. "Now that that's settled, can you tell me what's really going on in that fluffy head of hair of yours?"

He looked over at me and let out a small laugh.

"I just," he sighed, his smile dropping. He looked over his shoulder, scanning the tired and scared faces of the kids. "What if we can't protect them?"

"Steve Harrington, you are the protector of the group. You have and will continue to protect those kids with everything you've got. Nothing is going to happen to them as long as you're around. Now, what's really going on?"

"Fine," he sighed when he saw the look on my face. He glanced back at the kids, making sure none of them heard him. "With everything that's been going on, I've been thinking about my future a lot more. I used to have such a clear idea of what I wanted."

"But now?"

"Now," he hesitated, "I'm not sure if we'll even make it to the end of the week."

My heart sank at the idea of Steve not making it through all of this. I smiled, knowing that I had to do something to cheer him up.

"So tell me about this future the great Steve Harrington used to dream of," I said in a playful tone.

"I've always had this dream that I'd have this really big family. I'm talking like a full brood of Harringtons. Like five, six kids."

"Six?!" I gasped.

"Yeah, six little nuggets," Steve chuckled. "Three girls, three boys. And every summer, I figured all of us Harringtons would pack into something like this and just see the country."

"Wow, Steve," I said under my breath. "That sounds. . . nice."

"Yeah?" He asked, glancing over at me.

"Well um, except for the six kids part," I teased. "That sounds like a total nightmare."

"If only we had some practice," Steve joked, gesturing toward the van full of kids.

"Alright, fair," I giggled. "But you know what they say; it's different when they're yours."

"True but," he hesitated. He glanced over at me as he said, "You're gonna be a great mom someday."

I rolled my eyes, looking away to hide my blush. I looked down and started picking at a thread from the bottom of my shirt where I tore it to patch up Steve's wounds.

He laughed before adding, "Plus you have the ability to get them to calm down without bribing them with sugar."

"Sugar isn't the way to calm teenagers down," I laughed.

"In all seriousness though," Steve said, clearing his throat, "the kids depend on you, Y/N. You say I'd do anything to protect them but you'd do anything too. You've taken care of them and loved them like a sister, a mom should. Something they might not have at home. They look up to you. They depend on you. We all do."

"Thank you," I whispered. Steve glanced at me and for a few brief seconds, neither one of us broke eye contact. Until Eddie made us.

"Dude! Watch the road!"

"Sorry," Steve cleared his throat, turning back toward the road. I nervously rubbed my hands together. We fell into silence, a little bit of awkward tension falling between us. We drove down the road, listening to the soft conversations of the kids behind us.

"It's stupid," Steve scoffed, trying to break the silence.

"Steve. . ."

"It's just a dumb dream," he mumbled. "Besides, it's not my dream anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because it's never going to happen."

"Says who?" I asked with a shrug. I glanced over my shoulder, my heart dropping into my stomach when I figured it out. I could feel Steve looking at me but I shifted my focus to the window.

"It's not about her," he said softly.

"It isn't?"

"No," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "I gave up on her being a part of my dream a long time ago."

"If she isn't the one you picture having that future with anymore, then who do you see in that RV with you?"

"I umm. . . I'm not sure."

"Come on," I teased. "You have this amazingly perfect dream of what you want your future to be, and you don't know who you want in that future with you?"

"I mean," Steve hesitated, "I think I know. It's just. . . Complicated."

"What's complicated about it?" I asked innocently.

"It just is," he struggled to admit. His voice dropped as he said, "I don't think she sees that future too."

"How do you know? Have you asked her?"

"No."

"Then you don't know for sure that she doesn't see it too," I shrugged.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?" I asked, turning towards him. We were at a light so he turned towards me. I could barely breathe as he looked deeply into my eyes.

"Do you see that future with me?"

"Do you want me to see that future with you?" I asked, my voice so soft I was afraid he hadn't heard me. Without breaking eye contact, Steve reached over and grabbed my hand.

"I would love for you to see that future with me," he whispered. I opened my mouth to respond but Robin yelled.

"Steve, the light's green!"

"I know," he sighed, the frustration clear in his voice.

He hesitated for a second before letting go of my hand and focusing on the road. My heart was still pounding against my chest from Steve's confession.

I tried to come up with a good response for him, but I couldn't think of anything that would make him feel the same way he made me feel. When I failed to think of something good enough, I reached over and grabbed his hand, instantly intertwining our fingers.

"I do see that future with you," I whispered.

"You do?"

"I want that future with you, Steve." I took a shaky breath when I realized something. My voice broke as I mumbled, "But what if we don't make it?"

"We're going to make it," Steve said instantly. The look on his face changed to a look of determination as he tightened his grip on my hand. "I'll make sure of it, Y/N. I promise. Our dream will come true."

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader

234 notes · View notes

atlantathecity · 1 month

Text

Building city developments at access points to the Beltline & MARTA & bike lanes is the future Atlanta needs. Building cities around access points to freeways is a problematic past that we need to undo.

It's hard to walk across this North Avenue bridge over I-75/85 without pondering these things. It offers a striking view of our mistakes.

#atlanta

11 notes · View notes

ponury-grajek · 2 years

Text

Another self-indulged AU for my blorbos I'm gonna call it clownverse 2:

It's the moment when Light regains his memories and he's sure that he's gonna win and that L is gonna die. And he's almost celebrating his future victory BUT THEN something happens. Maybe they're fighting for the last time and maybe L hits him too hard but at some point Light passes out and-

And then he wakes up to the singing of birds, the sun smiles at him through the window and someone's cuddling against his back. And that someone is L. Light is confused, he has never been that confused in his entire life, maybe not even in that moment when he lost his memories. Is that some kind of a joke, L?, he thinks, Some kind of the investigation method? Another test? They're not even in the Task Force headquarters. The room where Light is has classic, wooden furniture and he can see a garden through the window. He's not even sure they're still in Japan anymore. He's looking for some tricks, trying to be rational in this situation but when L wakes up and says something like "Mornin', love", his eyes grow as big as deer's eyes on the freeway and he's like Ok, what the fuck. "It's not funny, L, you can't use that kind of tricks on me, I'm no longer your suspect in Kira investigation". L puts his thumb to his mouth disoriented. "Kira? Who is Kira? Light, are you feeling alright?"

And Light quickly finds out how difficult his situation really is. He has no Kira powers. He doesn't know Misa here. Above the fireplace in the living room there is a photo of him and L from the holidays in Spain. There are also some photos of people Light doesn't know (he later finds out it's Matt, Mello and Near and there is also a very unfavorable photo of Roger Mello put on the fridge) And Light learns that he has been solving cases with L here for several years now. They met accidentally on a case in Japan and fell in love.

Sachiko calls him almost everyday and asks when her boys will come to some dinner. Sayu texts him about her life and college (and she also sends him multiple photos of Ryuga Hideki and informs him that he’s still very hot). Soichiro tells him that he’s so proud of him even if he still doesn’t understand his choice of partner (p a r t n e r ? Light can’t believe his ears when his dad says this) And he also learns L's real name AND HE CAN DO NOTHING ABOUT IT. He has his name, his trust but he can’t kill him and it drives him insane.

But of course, soon he will learn how it is to fall in love, how to live a peaceful life, how it is to love and be loved, to share the same bed without handcuffs and lack of trust 💖

But all the good things always come to an end and Light is thrown into Kira's investigation again, waking up with a headache, in the cold headquarters and with the thought that Rem would soon kill L and he can let it happen or-

#death note #clownverse 2 #light yagami #l lawliet #lawlight #clown to clown communication #everything is beautiful and nothing hurts #did I ever mention that jumping on parallel universes is one of my favourite theme?#wammy boys #yagami family #ambiguous ending #fluff #so much fluff #old picture for attention 🤡#I hope it's not too you know lemony

889 notes · View notes

gavinstrick · 3 months

Text

“hello lovelies ! as ya may know ive started a fundraiser for the operations and wheelchair that i desperately need, but ive never really been open about my disability on here so i thought id share a little about my story which is scary and uncomfortable but i think it’s the only way im really going to get through this and grow if I start actually talking about it.

I have been hospitalized thirteen times now since i was 16 yrs old. Diagnosed with bipolar 2, anorexia, PTSD, schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder, and developmental disabilities (I was told my brain stopped developing at 14 yrs old). I faced disgusting abuse from hospital staff/doctors/psychiatrists/psychologists/nurses. it’s been 7 years of hell.

When I was 19 I had just been kicked out of the UCSD treatment center where they cut me off from my medication, psychs, therapists - everything. I ran away and became a victim of sex trafficking for the second time in my life and i honestly just didn’t want to do it anymore. I tried to kill myself by jumping off a freeway overpass onto the I-5 during day time traffic. I survived. Breaking my right foot, leg, arm, ribs, pelvis, and three vertebrae of my spine. I spent 2 weeks in the ICU and trauma wards and spent 4 months in a wheelchair where afterwards I taught myself how to walk again bc I didn’t have access to physical therapy. since then i escaped my hometown of san diego and have tried to make something new of myself. something not so broken. but after seeing a pain management doctor last year due to the debilitating pain in my spine. i was told that my spine was deteriorating. The discs between my vertebrae are completely degenerating, i have arthritis throughout my spinal column, severe joint dysfunction. And my spine can’t keep up. The bones are being eaten away and without proper longterm treatment, it is only continue to worsen until i lose all mobility. I went from being mostly mobile to now completely bedridden. I wake up crying and don’t stop until i go to bed because of the unimaginable pain i am in. I can’t sit up without assistance, can barely walk, and it is the most heartbreaking thing i have ever experienced. all I went through just to be here now: in even more pain.

i am now in Italy with my incredible husband-to-be who has been by my side the whole time holding my hand through the tears and giving me strength to find doctors that WILL help me.

my gofundme is my hope that i can raise the money i need to get the spinal operation, wheelchair, and treatments i desperately need - and deserve. I dream to be mobile again, no more pain, i wanna Walk down that aisle, i wanna raise a family in the future, i want a life that isn’t so much pain anymore. And I have hope. My beautiful friends and family, my husband who is my rock and my light and my everything - have all given me hope that the beautiful life i imagine for myself as i lay in bed everyday is possible - i just urgently need to get the operations, treatments, and mobility aids that will one day have me back on my feet. Please consider donating and if you can’t please share it please spread the word and my story. this surgery is my chance and all ive ever wanted was just … a chance to get better. so please consider. the link is in the bio and literally Anything helps and pleasee continue to share in anyway you can. i love you guys and thank you and im crying a lot now lol but ❤️ bless ya hearts and stay safe out there and thank you for reading ❤️”

- my official statement for my gofundme :•) pls do continue to share and consider donating if u can. i appreciate all of u who have supported me through this and the lovies who have been there since the very start. let’s get this fuckin operation gurls !!! Xx

9 notes · View notes

theloveoftoms · 2 years

Text

An Evening Out - Rooster Bradshaw x Reader (top gun: maverick)

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, aka your boyfriend, has a surprise date for you!

A/N: yep, ive fallen for miles teller. I can add him to the list of men who are substantially older than me that I would l o v e to be with. and oh my gosh, he was so gorgeous as rooster in top gun: maverick. So, I present to you, this quick and easy rooster x reader fic. I'm going to go watch tg:m again this week, so I'll get a better idea of their personality and characteristics for future stories! Also, I hope this isn't too romantic in a shallow type of way, all ive been reading lately is tough stories about loss and unsuitable romance partners, so I wanted to write something sweet to fill my mind :) also, I didn't proof read this as much as I normally would, so enjoy my chaotic world of words that I've concocted. Thanks for reading my stories! I LOVE YOU - Mac xx

"Hey," Rooster says with notes of apology caressing through his voice, closing the car door and running around to your side of the street, "I'm sorry I was late."

You date was set to begin well over 10 minutes ago when your boyfriend rooster was supposed to pick you up. You had called, texted, and received nothing in reply, so you had decided to sit on your porch and wait a little while longer, until the sun was set beyond the horizon, or you heard from rooster, whichever came first.

You walked down the stairs slowly, without saying anything, until you were standing directly across from your boyfriend. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, a smile written across your face.

Rooster put his hand on your shoulder, you could feel the warmth of it radiating through the sleeve of your blouse. His brandy eyes were gazing deeply into yours, god how involve the two of you were. "There was a big accident blocking the freeway, and you know that people don't know how to merge here."

A chuckle escaped your lips and you stretched up on your tip-toes and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. You felt rooster's arms wrap around your waist as he leant down to properly kiss you. The kiss was long and subtle and it made you feel untroubled and content with the world.

After the kiss had finished, you stood, still grinning, "Its alright. These things happen sometimes."

"I'm just glad you're here," you said.

"Since we've missed the reservation, what do you say we go to the beach instead?" Rooster asked you, sliding his arm around your waist.

"That sounds perfect!"

You hopped in Rooster's car, which was a vintage convertible that had belonged to his parents. The car was a gorgeous shade of deep merlot. It had contemporary beige seats that extended all the way through the car, and a radio that only played 60's music. It needed some work, but its flaws is what made it admirable, and its memories is what made rooster cherish it even more.

So, the two of you drove, in the shades of the late night sun along the coast, the wind in your hair, not a care in the world, blasting frankie Valli. The beaches were all busy, and there wasn't a parking spot to be found, so rooster took a drive onto the base, which wasn't too much further, through the gates, until the two of you were at generals beach.

There was the occasional person or couple walking on the sand, but everyone seemed to be further along the coast, meaning that the beach would be practically empty just for you and your boyfriend to relax upon.

As you climbed out of the car, rooster was busy collecting something he had put in the trunk. When he came around the front, you found that he was carrying one of his navy hoodies with the top gun logo on it, and a paper bag from the farmers market.

"What is all of this?" you asked happily.

"Surprise," he said, "now lets go find a spot before the sun sets."

You laughed, slipping your arm around his waist, "I don't think we'll have much trouble with that."

The two of you walked up close to the water, and set down your things in a spot just far enough away that it wouldn't be damaged by the waves.

You took a seat beside rooster, who was busy laying down a towel, unpacking the contents of the brown paper bag.

He pulled out a container of finger sandwiches, a small carton of juicy red strawberries, and a small clear container of popcorn.

"Rooster!" you exclaimed, "Did you plan all of this?"

He pulled out a bottle of expensive looking champagne, and two flute glasses, and smirked "Do you think I ride around with this stuff in my car all the time?"

You laughed, "This was such a great surprise!"

The two of you ate your sandwiches, you enjoyed your cucumber ones, and rooster who couldn't stand them, enjoyed his ham and cheese ones. You fed each other strawberries, and then laughed over how cliche it was, all while watching the sun setting.

The rays of tangerine were cast upon the two of you, who were sitting peacefully in the sun, pleased with the world.

"God," you sighed to your boyfriend, "You always make everything so good for me. Too good!"

Rooster looked over to you with something more than love written across his eyes, "I like to try to y/n. You've been there for me through it all."

You flopped back, laying down in the sand, "You're so perfect it physically hurts."

#rooster #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw #tom cruise #goose #goose and maverick #miles teller #i think i have a crush on miles teller now

303 notes · View notes

paigenoelchas-blog · 1 year

Text

Mountaintops and other Dangerous Terrain:

02: On Track

(part 01)

"The road back was long, full of ups and downs, but I kept on, because I knew that, eventually it would lead me back to you."

The path back to her wasn't going to be easy. He had no idea the extent of his injuries, but he remained undaunted and more than willing to fight until his last breath to be with her.

The adrenaline rush from making it out of the mine, seeing her, and knowing that she loves him allowed him to brush his injuries aside for a bit. Jake was moving slowly, the path was dark, the moon barely a crescent in the sky and he dared not use a flashlight as many people were looking for him. The rocks were slick with moisture from the fog that lingered lowly in the air and sharp from many years of erosion. Occasionally, the light from a freeway down the road would lighten the path. He would try and memorize a route while hiding from view, and Jake etched out a plan in his mind. His only focus was on the next steps that he had to take, completely focused on the road and her, always on her. Every step he took was one step closer to her.

Because of her, the stars were still bright in their twinkling and his heart was still full of the warmth found in her love. Those three words, spoken from a generous, yet careful heart would carry him to my safety. Jake believed that with all of his heart.

Making it about halfway to the valley before the extent of his injuries could be felt, he had to stop for a moment to assess the situation. He had not broken his leg, thankfully, but his ankle was definitely injured and the gash on his thigh would cause problems if he didn't get some antibiotics soon. His arm had several bruises and his hands were scarred from the frantic digging that was required during his escape. He shuddered, not wanting to think of those details, he had several deep scratches on his face. The pain in his side acknowledged his broken ribs. The pain was intense, but his hope for their future was greater. His thoughts ran only to the future with her in his arms.

He lost everything in those mines, everything but her love. That was all that he had to fight for. He knew it was all that could keep him going.

Jake knew that a plan was necessary and let his thoughts travel to more practical matters.

I have to track down a phone. I need to let her know that I am still alive and let her know that my heart is hers. I can't do much to keep her safe while in this position, but I can make sure that she is not pursued. Nymos will do that without causing suspicion. I am glad that I hit the emergency button as soon as I realized that my backpack was not going to make it.

Pushing that button commanded Nymos to destroy all evidence of her without making it appear that the phone had been tampered with. It wiped her from the phone completely and utterly. He was proud that he had thought of that in the last moments, that his desire to keep her safe precluded his desire for his own safety.

But first, I have to find my way down this mountain and find some medicine, maybe a place to rest. I hope they find my backpack and the one shoe that I left behind and believe that I was lost in the fire, and that will be enough evidence to prove that I expired in those mines. Before her, that backpack would have contained everything precious to me. I have reason to believe that while they know of her existence, they don't know that she is my everything. She became the beating of my heart and my sole desire the minute those words popped up on my screen.

A huge smile lit up his face despite the pain in his body and despite the torment of not being in contact with her, despite not being able to let her know that she is safe. He had happiness and hope and joy despite all of the obstacles because she loved him.

One foot moved slowly in front of the other.

One more inch of mountainside lay behind him.

One more second until he was by her side and she was in his arms.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc x jake #duskwood jake x mc #jake x mc #mc x jake #duskwood mc #mc duskwood #jake duskwood #iamjake

19 notes · View notes

cnu-newurbanism · 1 year

Text

What does government support for highway removal look like?

Freeways Without Futures highlights the efforts of local campaign organizers and activists seeking to revitalize their communities by dismantling the city highways that burden them with the significant health hazards of vehicle exhaust, a loss of local businesses and services, and streets that are hostile to pedestrians.

Now, city and state officials are also recognizing the importance of replacing aging highways that damage communities with assets like city streets, housing, and green space. This is further supported by the federal government’s acknowledgement of historic harms with financing through the federal Reconnecting Communities program. While the 2023 report features several highways that are getting support from the federal government, the highways featured in this article have also received government support on a more local level.

5 notes · View notes

floordive · 7 months

Text

Refuge/Tillflykt

[The original poem in Swedish at the end]

Hide behind your eyelids The sun becomes a warm-colored screen Shapes appear in the sand In the sky, between the swings The same ones everywhere ~ Jump from the big rock for a hundredth time If you keep at it for long enough, you will lift off the ground one day The grownups believe in you With every jump you reach a little bit higher ~ The boy who crushes frogs is sitting under the jungle gym You slip on the rope, a few tiny pebbles fall from your shoe Time stops when the Frog Crusher lifts his gaze, tells you: if you don’t give me two poké balls I will kill you You know you don’t stand a chance ~ Last night you dreamt that the dark-haired girl pushed you off a tall building You’re too afraid to look her in the eyes ~ The house is falling apart Rainwater drips into pots and buckets The cats were run over, but with a twin and the fantasy worlds you share and your mom working from home, you never have to feel lonely Safety is time standing still The countryside is your only home and the city is the wondrous backdrop in a play Soon it will be the other way around ~ The woman at the hospital brings you orange juice in two plastic cups The grownups are gathered around the bed, they’re murmuring and bending down To think that you can get juice from a stranger, just like that

Gramps isn’t fun anymore Safety is a world without consequences They haven’t caught up with you yet, but just you wait Your hair catches fire when you’re placing the rose on the casket Dad puts it out before you notice ~ You die again and again In your dream you get shot in the chest One time a bullet hits you right in the forehead Another time a saber lodges deep in your back In yet another dream, a strong force pulls you towards the door and you know you will be sucked into the sky You manage to make your way back through the living room and all the way to your mom's home office, but she’s working and doesn’t notice what’s happening to you The next morning you tell her about it Mom, it doesn’t mean anything! But she is still upset ~ You don’t know when it happened, but before you know it, there you are Suddenly a mystery to yourself Time was set into motion, and it can’t go fast enough You want so many things, you want bones to grow and seams to burst If you only knew where you were heading ~ Dad is playing guitar downstairs It’s The Song, the first and the closest It brings you back to that forgotten village You hear your heart sing with every note In your bed, unmoving, staring into darkness Struck by the gravity of what’s been lost Wishing the tears would come ~ Many years later, you can no longer remember what it felt like Two tiny legs in the air, a great honor to be so seen Your parents would recite a nursery rhyme When they got to runninghomerunninghomerunninghome they would make you run until you squealed with laughter Spring in your step on the first day of school Walking on air, side by side On hairy grown-up legs, reeling through the concrete jungle Taking swigs of the heavy mist that has descended on the city and turned it into a minefield The dark chant of a foghorn calls home the wandering troops You get on the bus in a feral state As expected, the feeling refuses to let go ~ In your dream you’re running on an invisible freeway High up in the sky, but not the least bit scared In another dream, you can breathe underwater On land you’re able to fly You just jump and flap your arms, just like all those years ago Wake up, wake up and remember your time and your place ~ Now you’re standing on the graduation float singing along to upbeat songs A girl who’s afraid of almost everything Who sees life goals as delusions and the future as a dark abyss You were top of your class They said it was going to rain, but it’s unbearably hot

So hide behind your eyelids, you deserve it Into the sun and the safety, behind the glowing screen But just for a minute or two Sooner or later, you’ll have to come out

Watch the shapes dance across the buildings Across smiling faces, ever moving away Feel the eternal bass thump in your chest and the oxygen take root in your lungs It’s incredible how far you’ve come

[Original poem]

Göm dig bakom dina ögonlock Solen blir en varmröd hinna Fläckar dyker upp i sanden I himlen, mellan gungorna Samma överallt ~ Hoppa från stenen en hundrade gång Tids nog kommer du att lyfta De vuxna tror på dig Du kommer en millimeter högre varje gång ~ Pojken som krossar grodor sitter under klätterställningen Du slinter, några gruskorn faller från din sko Världen stannar upp när Grodkrossaren höjer blicken, säger: om du inte ger mig två pokémonbollar så dödar jag dig Du har inte en chans ~ I natt drömde du att den mörkhåriga flickan knuffade dig från ett högt tak Du vågar knappt se henne i ögonen ~ Huset har börjat falla sönder Regnet droppar ner i krukor och kastruller Katterna har blivit överkörda, men med en tvilling och fantasivärldarna ni delar och mamma som jobbar hemifrån är du aldrig ensam Trygghet är tid som står still Landet är ditt enda hem och staden är ett under, en kulissvärld Det kommer att bli precis tvärtom ~ Ni får apelsinjuice av kvinnan på sjukhuset De vuxna är samlade kring sängen, de mumlar och böjer sig ner Tänk att man kan få juice av en främling, bara sådär

Morfar är inte rolig längre Trygghet är en värld utan konsekvenser De har inte hunnit ikapp dig än, men vänta bara Ditt hår fattar eld när du ska lägga rosen på kistan Pappa släcker den innan du märker något ~ Du dör gång efter gång Du drömmer att du blir skjuten i bröstet En gång träffad mitt i pannan En annan gång huggen med en sabel i ryggen Du drömmer att en väldig kraft drar dig mot ytterdörren, och du vet att du kommer att sugas upp i himlen Du lyckas ta dig längre in i huset, till mammas kontor, men hon jobbar och märker inte vad som händer med dig Nästa dag berättar du för henne om drömmen Mamma, det betyder ingenting! Men hon blir ledsen ändå ~ Du vet inte när det hände, men plötsligt är du där Som en främling inför dig själv Tiden sattes i rullning, och den kan inte gå fort nog Du vill så jävla mycket, vill knaka i fogarna och brista i sömmarna Om du bara visste vart du är på väg ~ Pappa spelar gitarr på nedervåningen Det är Sången, den första och den närmsta Den tar dig tillbaka till den bortglömda byn Hör ditt hjärta sjunga vid varje ton Stilla i din säng, stirra upp i mörkret Känn tyngden av det som gått förlorat Önska att tårarna kom ~ Många år senare, och du kan inte längre minnas hur det kändes Två små ben rakt upp i vädret, en stor ära i din värld, att bli så sedd Lacka lacka efter vatten, ös i, ös i, springahemspringahemspringahem De fick dig att springa tills du tjöt av skratt Pirriga ben på väg till skolan, ni går som på moln På håriga fullvuxenben raglar du fram genom betongdjungeln Super in den tunga dimman som har lagt sig över staden och förvandlat den till ett minfält Mistluren kallar hem de vilsna trupperna Du stiger på bussen i ett förvildat tillstånd Som så ofta vägrar känslan att släppa taget ~ Du drömmer att du springer på en osynlig luftmotorväg Högt upp i himlen, men du är inte det minsta rädd En annan gång andas du på havets botten Du kan flyga också, du behöver bara hoppa och flaxa med armarna precis som du gjorde som barn Vakna, vakna och minns din tid och din plats ~ Nu står du på studentflaket och sjunger Du som är överdrivet rädd för nästan allt Som ser drömmar som en gäckande hägring och framtiden som ett slukande hål Du fick bäst betyg i klassen Många sa att det skulle regna, men det är olidligt varmt

Så göm dig bakom dina ögonlock, det förtjänar du In i solen och tryggheten, bakom den glödande hinnan Men bara en liten stund Förr eller senare måste du komma ut

Följ fläckarnas dans över stadshusfasaderna Över leende ansikten, ständigt på väg bort Känn den eviga basen dunka i bröstet och syret slå rot i lungorna Det är ett under att du har kommit så långt

#poem #poetry #original poem #original poetry #poets on tumblr #poets of tumblr #mine #poetrycommunity #spilled ink #tw body horror #greatest hits

5 notes · View notes

arelyhb · 1 year

Note

hi, im the person who asked for spoilers:)

i personally have no problems with spoilers and ive seen playthroughs of the game twice, but back when they came out and i dont remember everything, especially not chronologically. i know what happens to joel and the hospital scene and what happens to ellie after that, but im not sure if that comes right after david or not (especially since they are making a s2, i think it'd be strange to make the hospital scene the finale of s1). i feel like im missing something in between is all

thanks a lot again!!

Ok. Very well...

TLOU SPOILERS AHEAD.

So, after David, Joel and Ellie carry on in their search for the Fireflies and there seems to be a reversal of roles. Ellie is clearly dealing with some PTSD after David so she's more serious and quiet now while Joel seems to be in a much lighter mood and doing all the talking now as they walk through another abandoned QZ. This is when Joel tells Ellie that maybe when they're done he can teach her how to play the guitar. We can now see that Joel definitely sees Ellie in his future once they're done with the Fireflies. Ellie is still a bit off until she sees some stray giraffes in the city and runs through the second floor of an abandoned building to get a good look at them. Joel follows her and she's mesmerized and finally happy again. Joel encourages her to pet one of the giraffes and this is super relevant because of the symbolism; Sarah had a stuffed giraffe in her bedroom. Joel now definitely sees a daughter in Ellie too.

Joel glances at Ellie and tells her they don't have to do this and can just go back to Tommy's but Ellie says "after everything I've done? Everything we've been through?" So clearly we can see how this kid carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. She thinks it's her OBLIGATION to save the world. Joel knows better because he's a grown man but up until this point, he respects her decisions because they both have no idea what making a vaccine will require. So they keep going and talk some more about going back to Jackson when they're done and Joel says "I am not leaving without you." It's sealed then. Their future together is sealed. They cannot separate now. They are father and daughter practically at this point.

They enter a freeway tunnel, deal with more infected then Ellie falls into a flooded area and almost drowns. Joel is performing CPR and a couple of asshole Fireflies show up and aim their guns at him. Joel is triggered once again because he's not going to stop until the child is safe but he's knocked unconscious.

He wakes up in a hospital, Marlene is sitting next to him, so we learn that they were brought in by actual Fireflies and the journey is over. Joel wants to see Ellie but Marlene won't let him. She assures Joel she's fine but she's already being prepped for surgery. Joel is like "What do you mean surgery?" and Marlene goes on to explain that the virus has mutated which is why Ellie is immune, that once they remove it they will be able to reverse engineer a vaccine. It dawns in on Joel that the infection grows in the brain, so they'd obviously have to kill Ellie to make their so-called cure. Joel immediately demands to see Ellie but is hit by Marlene's guard and then she basically tells Joel that whatever he's thinking is nothing compared to her because she knows Ellie since she was born. Yes, Marlene was friends with Ellie's mom. Yes, that still won't stop her from killing a child without even giving her a heads up.

In this part I confirmed why I hated the Fireflies so much. Not only do they have God complex but they're also okay with killing a 14 year old girl to save a world that's beyond saving. To me, if it isn't the Cordyceps virus, it'll be something else; a war, another illness, etc that will kill humans in the end. So Ellie dying to stall that inevitable end of human race is pointless. But the moral dilemma is presented to the gamer or the viewers. This is what I think but what do you think right? What do others think? Save one girl or save the world?

So Marlene threatens Joel and tells him to just forget about her. Then Joel goes crazier than ever before, goes on a killing spree at the hospital until he reaches the operating room where he kills the surgeon and nurses in cold blood and rescues Ellie who's unconscious therefore unaware of everything going on around her.

Joel just makes a complete MESS.

Marlene appears again right when Joel is about to leave with Ellie in his arms. She tries to stop him then tries to convince Joel to let her live, to which Joel responds "You'd just come after her" and BANG shoots Marlene in the face. (I love this man).

So at this point we know that Joel acted based on that open wound Sarah's death left in him. He's traumatized and if he couldn't save his daughter, he is definitely going to save Ellie who's now like a second daughter to him no matter what. When she wakes up she's in the backseat of a car Joel's driving asking what happened.

Joel... Joel lies to Ellie. He tells her the Fireflies ran tests and turned out it wouldn't make a difference because there are a bunch of others who are immune so they've stopped looking for a cure. Ellie is very sad and disappointed but she doesn't know that they were going to kill her without even asking her if she was okay with it or if she at least wanted to say goodbye to Joel or something. Joel thinks he's protecting her by lying but this is just a time bomb that will eventually go off on him.

Joel, as we see through the video game, is not a good guy but is also not entirely bad either. However he was a bit selfish but also right in what he did, I mean... the moral dilemma of this mind-blowing story is up to each viewer or player.

I've always thought that Ellie never truly believed Joel, so in the final scene we have them already going back to Jackson and Joel is just happy and pleased but Ellie has a lot on her mind. We see that Joel is much more comfortable now opening up to Ellie and talking about Sarah. So is Ellie since she finally tells Joel that when she got bitten she wasn't alone. She tells him about Riley but never specifies the romantic side of their relationship. This kid obviously isn't ready to come out let alone to Joel yet. But the thing is, we understand one of the many strong reasons Ellie cares so much about the cure because she's filled with guilt, not just for Riley but also Tess and Sam, and being immune makes her feel even more guilty. Joel assures her that none of that is on her.

Ellie then snaps and demands Joel to swear to her that everything he said about the Fireflies was true.

Joel not only lies AGAIN to Ellie but he looks her straight in the eye when he does it. And we can see that Ellie is still not completely buying it but she settles and says "okay". And part I ends.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO This is so fucking good but part II is even better.

Hopefully... they won't change any of this in the show because it's all crucial for part II but I guess we'll find out.

I hope I helped. I am sorry for writing a whole bible here but once someone mentions The Last of Us, I don't know how to stop.

~A.

#TLOU SPOILERS #The Last of Us #TLOU #SPOILERS

6 notes · View notes

zitasaurusrex · 1 year

Text

Hello it’s 3 in the morning, and I’m thinking, and nobody can stop me.

The problem is there are no hard fast lines or black and white rules.

We want there to be. We want that certainty and ease. We want things to be wholely, unquestionably one thing and never possibly another, because otherwise there are too many questions. There are things we fear and never want to possibly be, so we draw lines between ourselves and what we would hate to become.

But they are only as immutable and impermeable as the edges of lanes on the freeway.

There is no list of behaviors you can avoid in order to be, completely and in totality, a good and safe person in every situation.

There is no magic category you or anyone can outsource your alertness and thinking to and guarantee safety from whatever badness you fear.

There is no circumstance that can completely justify you. There is no absolution from responsibility. There is no relief from the eternal press of our human frailties and exhaustions. We are none of us unassailable.

And it is the belief that we can be so that leads people to hurt one another, and then to act shocked when they are told they have. How could I hurt someone? I’m a good person? Excuse you, you think I harmed you but I was only doing it because don’t you know I’ve suffered???

Suffering is not virtue. Pain is not permission to cause more of it.

If you believe that the pain of your wounds was wrongly forced upon you, and that gives you the right to hurt others because you are suffering… I feel like that is a pair of thoughts that should be peeled apart and examined carefully.

It does not make you a bad person, to have hurt others. You’ve hurt others without meaning to, in the past, whether or not you knew it. You will do so in the future. It is an inevitability of being a person surrounded by other people. We cannot have perfect knowledge of each other. It is impossible.

“Good person” is an impossibility. But we also strive for it.

The trouble lies in “good person” as an aspiration for the self: I am good, untouchable, without the fear of doubt of what I am, relieved of the burden of self-examination and self-regulation because I have won the Good Person prize and everything I ever do is Excusable due to my Goodness. I follow the Rules of Being Good and they guarantee me safety forever and ever. If I stay within the Good Box and never stray, everyone must accept my Goodness or else they are Bad.

“Good” as an impossible aspiration is not for the self to use to feel safe, but a goal to reduce the damage we cause to our fellows. It will always be nonzero, but it is not perfection that is the value of the striving. It never has been.

The belief that one can be unassailably Good is arrogance, but more than arrogance it is fear. What if there is a secret rule you do not yet know, oh Good one? What if there was a line you have always been on the Wrong side of? What will you do when you discover it?

It breaks the geometry of your perfect box, if you accept it.

You must accept your imperfection. Thus, you must accept the imperfection of others. We are mutable creatures that must by necessity grow in varied places and change over our lives.

You are, terrifyingly, not forever and always Good/safe/harmless/justified.

You are also, mercifully, not forever and always Bad/unsafe/dangerous/wrong.

To deny someone else that bare grace is to leave no safety for your own faults.

Accept the multitudes contained in others, or be forced to castigate your own self.

Goodnight.

2 notes · View notes

kawaiiinla · 1 year

Text

Rest in Peace P-22

A Eulogy for P-22, A Mountain Lion Who Changed the World

• Beth Pratt

• Dec 17, 2022

‘It’s My Hope that Future Mountain Lions Will Be Able to Walk in the Steps of P-22 Without Risking Their Lives on California’s Highways, Streets’

“Yet a mountain lion lived here, right here in Los Angeles.

“I can’t finish this sentence without crying because of the past tense. It’s hard to imagine I will be writing about P-22 in the past tense now.

“I don’t have any illusion that my presence or words comforted him. And I left with a great sadness I will carry for the rest of my days.

#not me crying on my couch #animal rights now #Los Angeles mountain lion #land bridges everywhere #p 22

2 notes · View notes

arizonapoppy · 1 year

Text

I posted 3,759 times in 2022

That's 1,166 more posts than 2021!

149 posts created (4%)

3,610 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dragonfly-wings1

@raksh-writes

@gellalaer

@kippurbird

@transformativeworks

I tagged 1,676 of my posts in 2022

#tolkien - 356 posts

#fic recs - 119 posts

#bts fanfic - 84 posts

#lotr - 84 posts

#signal boost - 77 posts

#mcu - 66 posts

#writer encouragement - 65 posts

#fandom is for fun - 43 posts

#star wars fanfic - 42 posts

#saving for future reference - 40 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#i've actually pretty much stopped leaving comments or reblogging other works because i so rarely get feedback myself

My Top Posts in 2022:

Solitude

A Mischief Managed ficlet

Pairing: Jimin x Reader, Jimin & Reader

Words: 1k

Rating: G

Genre: Angst, bestFriends!AU, nonIdol!AU

Summary: In a new town with a good job, you realize your loneliness without your best friend Jimin

Warnings: Not the usual fluff; off-screen!Jimin

Read it on AO3

Taglist: @cutechim @hannahbee12719 @reliablemitten @seokjinger-ale @sunshinerainbowsbts

24 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Ticket, Please

A Mischief Managed story

What? More Mischief? I’m popping in from my social media break to let my BTS followers know there’s another episode of Mischief Managed posted on Ao3, thanks to a thirst session with @hannahbee12719 & @seokjinger-ale that turned into a prompt.

Pairing: Jimin & Reader

Words: 2.1k

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff, crack, humor, bestFriends!AU, nonIdol!AU

Summary: You and Jimin will do anything to watch the new X-Men movie

Warnings: Do not try this at home- breaking & entering, attempt to defraud

Read it on AO3

And while you’re here, would you be interested in some of my other BTS stories? With all that’s going on right now, we really need the comfort of fluff.

And if fluff isn’t your thing (but I still really encourage you to give it a try), you might be interested in this little tidbit of smut, which has somehow become the third most popular thing I’ve ever written. I knew we’re all horny bitches (affectionate), but it’s been jaw-dropping to see its stats versus everything else I’ve done in my life.

25 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

We did it!

200 Thryce stories on Ao3!

26 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

Pancake My Eyes Off Of You

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Words: 1085

Summary: You and your friend Seokjin go out for your regular Saturday morning breakfast. A chance comment breaks your status quo.

Warnings: Bad puns

Also on Ao3

A/N: Thank you to @hannahbee12719 for the prompt! Five squares down.

Send me a prompt with a pairing!

“Another successful morning garage-sailing!” Seokjin whistles as he unlocks the van carrying all your assembled purchases.

“Don’t you mean junking?”

He assumes a hurt expression. “How can you call all this wonderful loot junk?”

You sigh as you buckle your seatbelt. “I’m just glad when it’s done being clutter in my garage.”

Seokjin reaches across the emergency break to pat your hand. “Admit it, you enjoy the thrill of the find.”

He had a point. Your mutual side hustle, Worldwide Hand-Me-Downs, did provide an outlet for your love of nostalgia. You just hadn’t expected it to take over your Saturday mornings. “I’ll be happy once we have breakfast,” you grumble. “And more coffee.”

Smiling, Seokjin points the van in the direction of the your favorite diner.

You sigh as he takes the back roads to the diner. “Why do you always take the back roads? It’s faster to take the freeway.”

Shaking his head, he demurs. “But there are fewer traffic lights.”

You bite your tongue as you stare out the window at the passing scenery. Driver’s choice, you suppose. Even though you had driven both ways and timed them just to prove you were right.

The end goal of all your Saturday garage-sailing expeditions is soon in sight (although you could have been there three minutes sooner if Seokjin had just gone your way), and with a blissful sigh, you slide into the booth opposite Seokjin. He carefully turns both the coffee cups up on their saucers. You don’t need to look at the menu, since you know what you want, but Seokjin studies his as if he hadn’t been coming here almost every Saturday for ages. You smile as his dark messy hair droops over his forehead as he turns the pages. His bangs are getting long. Should you remind him to get a haircut?

“Good morning,” your server chirps, as she pours coffee in your cups. She drops off a little pot of half and half, too, which Seokjin wordlessly pushes toward you. “Do you know what you want, or should I come back?”

“I’ll have the veggie omelette, bacon, and a side of hash browns, crispy on top, please?”

The server nods. “You got it!”

Seokjin shakes his hair out of his face as he tries to decide. “Can I have the short stack, link sausage, and the fruit cup please?” he finally asks.

She finishes writing your order. “I’ll get this put in.”

After she leaves, you carefully pour the cream and sugar into your coffee, stirring to mix it into pale tan consistency.

“Would you like a little coffee with your sugar?” Seokjin teases you.

You tap the spoon against the lip so as not to waste a single drop of blessed caffeine. “Not everyone can stand their coffee as black as your heart.”

He clutches his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. Straightening his face, Seokjin changes the topic of conversation to the plot developments of the latest popular streaming series. “Can you believe what the writers did? What were they thinking? Clearly it should have gone the other way.”

Nodding your agreement, you gesticulate wildly with your spoon, because you would have improved on that chase scene, if only they had consulted you. Seokjin chimes in with supporting additional details of the proposed rewrites.

By the time your food arrives, between the two of you, you have come up with a much better directors’ cut. You and Seokjin scurry to move the cups aside to make room for the food as your server unloads plate after plate. Glasses of orange juice and milk are followed by Seokjin’s pancakes. She sets the breakfast potatoes at Seokjin’s place.

See the full post

28 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hiya Poppy, for your romantic cliche bingo, could I request something for "The Dork and the Jock?" I'd love to see what you can do with this one! 💕

Take Me Out

Pairing: Hoseok x female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, opposites attract, first meeting

Summary: You'd rather be playing a game than teaching, but then an office group from Bangtan Industries attends your club's Learn To Curl night.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, bad puns

Rating: T for alcohol consumption (to be safe, nothing else happens)

A/N: Thank you to Sunny for the prompt! I hope you like it! <3 Eight squares down.

Also on Ao3

“I said, I’ve finished counting out the shoe grippers.”

“Hmm? What?” Pulling your earbud out of your ear, you look up to find your friend Seokjin standing next to you. Clutching your chest, you chastise him: “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!”

Seokjin shakes his finger at you. “It wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t lost to the world listening to the latest curling podcast.”

You splutter. “How’d you know I was listening to curling podcasts?”

“I didn’t,” he smirks. “Lucky guess.”

Rolling your eyes, you go back to counting out the broom handles and checking their brightly colored brush pads. “How many are we expecting tonight?”

“Full house,” Seokjin replies as reaches into the bin closest to him and begins inspecting brooms.

Learn to Curl Nights are always hectic at the curling club. But it’s extra busy in Olympic years, when suddenly people who look ordinary are on the tv playing for Olympics medals. Shuffleboard on ice, how hard could it be?

You have a lot of bruised tailbones and sore shoulders to contradict them.

“Lucky us,” Seokjin quips. “We’ve got one of the corporate team building groups.”

Pursing your lips, you contemplate your teaching partner’s revelation. This could go one of two ways: scowling grumps upset at “mandatory fun” organized by an out-of-touch boss, or a really wild office with terrifyingly high morale.

Even if you get the challenging first group, you still enjoy teaching. They might be hard nuts to crack, but eventually the enthusiasm is contagious. The smiles when someone manages to get their stone most of the way down the ice make it all worthwhile. It’s also a good opportunity for the club to recruit; you, Seokjin, and the other volunteer teachers are the first line of scouts for new players.

The evening starts in the club’s general purpose room with a brief welcome and introduction from the club president, Namjoon, and then everyone troops downstairs to the ice. You help people find the right size shoe grippers and a broom. When each person is set, you make your way over to the furthest sheet where Seokjin and the office party are waiting.

Watching at a distance, they’re already pretty animated. “Wooo!” yells one woman in a bright red jacket, waving her arms over her head. She almost loses her balance, but recovers just in time. A man in a hockey jersey says something you can’t hear at that distance, and the entire group breaks up laughing.

Looks like you have the office with terrifyingly high morale.

All right, they want a wild time, you’ll give them the full experience. Kicking off with your back foot, you slide in and swish to a stop in front of them, broom carefully tucked under your arm, just to be extra.

“And here’s my esteemed Co-Teacher,” Seokjin crows. “The fun can begin!”

Cheerfully, you wave to the group and introduce yourself.

“We all work for Bangtan Industries,” explains their boss, as they take turns introducing themselves. Going down the line, they are an office crew from central casting, representing all walks of life, genders, and office roles.

The last person to speak is a man who has been quiet up until now. Taking his measure, does he even want to be here? Sometimes groups have a holdout determined not to have fun. He has a reserved yet confident air, wearing loose clothing and a knit hat with black bangs peeking out. But then he smiles and it’s like a spotlight shines. His dark eyes crinkle around his button nose. “My name’s Hoseok,” he says. “I’m really excited to learn to curl!”

See the full post

32 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

3 notes · View notes