#i'm a fucking fast cashier. i know what i'm doing. and i know all the processes and stuff.

[fantabulisticity]

Had a good cry today. I needed that.

#the thing i was crying about was resolved thankfully #but i still cried for like 10 more minutes bc i am unable to just like. stop. when i'm already crying lol #like laughing. i can't just stop laughing or stop crying. i have to gradually slow down #i feel SO MUCH BETTER NOW #i've been needing to cry for so long and didn't really have the time so. this worked out. #of COURSE it happened during my moving week lmao. i fucking hate moving. it's so stressful. #and i didn't ask for time off this time bc it's holiday season #so like. i NEED to be at work. #i went from 13.5 hours last week to 31.5 hours this week. bc payroll sucks but they NEED me for the busy season. #i'm a fucking fast cashier. i know what i'm doing. and i know all the processes and stuff. #my boss know i'm leaving soon so he hired a bunch of new people (some for regular seasonal buffer and some... bc i am worth like 2 or 3... #...newbies lmaooooooooo #i've been here forever. people think i'm a manager lol. #anyways. gonna refill my work lotion and eat something and maybe play some animal crossing or maybe go to bed early. #personal #tmi

[kremlin]

"This event ends the moment you write us a check, and it better not bounce, or you're a dead motherfucker" -- Big Bill Hell

There was a time when you'd see little old ladies paying for the groceries with a hand-written personal check, holding up the line, causing an immediately-forgiven slight sense of annoyance with those behind her. Buddy. Those days are over. They've been over. What, did you think you were going to just pop a couple extra zeroes on the end of your paycheck there? Maybe scan your paycheck, open it in photoshop, make a template, print em out all nice? You think you're the first to think of that, dipshit?

It takes the law a long time to catch up with the state of the art. You're reading this on the internet, which means you never use checks. The law has caught up. Your ass will be going to prison immediately and you will see zero return.

You can't even kite checks anymore, and hell, nobody under 40 will even know what that means, due to the blazing fast, two day settlement on all ACH transactions. Let me paint you a picture.

You get paid on Friday, but it is Monday, and bills are due on Tuesday. And you're broke: $0 in the bank. Goose egg. Pop open your checkbook, go to a store, "buy" some things, write a check for the amount. The cashier takes it!

Now take those things you "bought", across town, to another store location, and return them for cold hard cash. Sweet. Bills paid. Friday rolls around, and you just make it to the bank to deposit your paycheck before it closes. After the weekend, the checks you wrote finally post, and they don't bounce! You've kited a check. You've surreptitiously taken a zero-interest loan. And we know your broke ass. The interest rate on that short-term payday loan should have been straight up usurious. We're talking 29%. That makes predatory fuckers like us horny for sex. We're so mad. Now you are going to Federal Prison. For a good minute. Fuckface.

COST: $0.10 (With banks offering free checking accounts + Bic pen)

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor sleet, if you fuck with the mail, we'll rip your nuts off" -- Ronald Mail (Inventor of Mail)

Many people have this misnomer that the most powerful people in politics are democratically elected. The president, of the United States, of America, is a stupid cartoon hotdog. All of them, I don't care. Way less clout than you'd think. Brilliantly, it is the people that the hotdog president appoints who are actually doing anything significant. The director of the CIA. The fucking chairman of the Federal Reserve. Probably the, like, most senior, uh, general of the military, and shit too. I don't know, we don't "do" army here at Bloomberg. You probably don't even know their names! I don't! These are the ones you should be seeing in your sleep.

There's another position like that. Appointed directly by the hotdog. The Postmaster General. That's a real title. He's the CEO of the mail, and buddy, what he may lack in political power relative to the director of the CEO, he makes up in raw sexual energy. Total Tom Selleck energy. Like an airline pilot. We're talking Donald Sutherland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I'm tentpoling in my black business slacks just writing this, and all my Bloomberg newsroom bros are peering over my shoulder and also tent-poling. We're not gay though, and especially me, I'm probably the least gay, but sometimes I just lay awake for hours at night what that mustache would feel like pressed against my lips, the unbelievable and utter, total sense of security I'd feel burying my head into his hard chest.

You get it. He's your dad. And if you fuck with the mail, you've fucked with the tools in your dad's garage. And dad's been drinking. You're in for it, bucko, you are in trouble. Do you think the United States Postal Service actually makes any money? Hell no. It costs like five bucks to mail a box basically anywhere I can think of and they give you the boxes for free. You can just walk in the post office and take them. I do that, and then just throw them away, I don't know why, some kind of compulsion. Being able to move shit around like this, quickly, cheaply -- Jesus H, I've got a huge amount of money in my bank account, probably tens of trillions of dollars (due to financial knowledge gained from reading Bloomberg articles) and I could probably mail every single person ever something and still come out in the black.

No way pal. They've thought of that already. The Postmaster General is going to know every time, and he's going to grab you by the shirt collar, wearing his cool as fuck hat, and you're going to get your pants pulled down, and your bare ass spanke...I need to go use the restroom real quick.

We rely on the mail system to get important shit done. It's not something to be taken lightly, and it isn't. Trust me. This is why, like almost every other person who receives mail in this year 2023, I just fucking put a wastebasket under my mail slot. I don't even shred that shit anymore. I just burn it. Takes less time.

COST: $0.63 (Postal stamp)

"Can call all you want, but there's no one home // And you're not gonna reach my telephone // Out in the club, and I'm sipping that bubb // And you're not gonna reach my telephone" -- Lady Gaga

I read something wild that the children of today do not know what a dial tone is, because of how fucked up and stupid they are. Isn't that super fucked up?

While it's not really our style, allow me to fill you in on some ancient, arcane knowledge about the telephone. You can turn it on, and then you can punch in numbers. Any numbers. Random ones, or maybe not random ones. If the ten numbers you punch in are the same as the numbers in someone else's telephone number, their phone will ring, and then you are talking to them. This is called "Phreaking".

Here's the kicker: You can tell that jackass anything you want. "Oh, Hi, Yes, I am Reginald Sumpter calling from Avalon Consulting LLC, we are just following up on the invoice we sent you. Please remit to ###### routing ###### account."

BOOM! Your name isn't Reginald whatever and that company doesn't exist, but you just received a deposit. It's fucking beautiful. What have you done wrong? It isn't your responsibility to handle who your business' clients/etc are, it's their's. If they want to just pay you money for no real reason, well, that's kind of on them, isn't it? I haven't stuck a pistol in your face and demanded everything in the register.

Well, it's too clever. It's too slick. This is the United States of America. It's one thing to commit a felony like armed robbery, it's another thing to piss off someone in charge of the accounting division who uses a special bathroom you need a key to get into.

You can do it on the computer too, I use a PC Computer at work and send email, so you can see how it'd work there. You can make a document that is indifferentiable from a real invoice and, straight up, 1/3 of the time they will pay that shit. Lmfao.

It's called wire fraud because, uhh, duhhhh, there's wires. What do you think that thing is strung between the telephone receiver and the dialer? And computers? Give me a break. There's so many wires with those.

COST: $0.25 (Coin for payphone)

"People calculate too much and think too little." -- Charlie Munger

It is insane how dumb the common man can be when it comes to our world of expertise. I hear this same sentiment, like, ALL THE TIME:

"Durr hurr I will buy an insurance policy for my car or house or whatever so that in case something happens to it I will get money". And then that same person proceeds to drive safely or not burn their house down. Dumbest crap imaginable.

Let me break it down for you. Insurance is a two player competitive game. There is a winner and there is a loser. Go take out an expensive insurance policy on your American sports car. Buy a neck brace, a football helmet, and pack that bitch with throw pillows. Then get in the left lane of a major highway at like noonish, let it rip and then SLAM on your brakes. Hit from behind! Your fault! Congratulations. You have won insurance. How this gets past people is beyond me.

You can only do this once or twice before the insurance companies catch on. Then they don't want to fuck with you. It is also..I don't know man...something feels off about taking a car or a house, which like, some guy had to build and just destroying it, but that is only a weird emotional thing, since you're making money, more than whatever the destroyed thing is worth, so in reality you've built that house plus some extra. You've contributed.

COST: $106.00 (Average monthly car insurance payment)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

SUBSCRIBE TO MY WHATEVER FOR PART TWO, COMING SOON. i'll post it later today probably. whatever time frame will juice the numbers. have a sneaky peaky

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[starwrighter]

Just a random thought that I turned into a prompt.

I've seen a few posts where Danny can shapeshift but usually he's shapeshifting into animals like crows and cats. For this prompt, hear me out... He shapeshifts into a person. Shocking concept I know! But he doesn't shapeshift into any person he shapeshifts into one of the Batfam, specifically he shapeshifts into Dick. Specifically Dick because he's the one I think is least likely to immediately try to murder Danny for being a clone or write it off as a hallucination from sleep deprivation.(*cough*Tim *cough*)

He doesn't shapeshift into Dick because he knows who he is. Danny has no clue who Gotham's vigilantes or the Wayne's are, Amity park was very isolated even before the portal opened. Danny shapeshifted because he was hungry and walking into a restaurant with his own appearance made people act hostile or pitying towards him. He's been called all types of names from Mutant to Troq and has since learned it was easier to shapeshift to get food then to deal with that.

Danny only shapeshifted into Dick because he was one of the first people he saw while walking around Gotham. In Danny's mind he just shapeshifted into a random person he saw on the street the day before. He's just in it to get fast food, he doesn't think anything of it. Though, he is a little taken aback when the cashier casually calls him a dick, but maybe this dude is a regular that's on friendly terms with the staff. Danny got his greasy food and all is well, that is untill he lock eyes with the real Dick who looks confused but not surprised.

The two of them lock eyes and it's like the spiderman meme for a few second until Dick, in a brilliant moment of intelligence decides to give chase... In public.

Danny's not willing to give up his fast food so easily. He is 100% willing to go through a cartoonishly long chase scene for his over salted fries. So it's just Dick chasing Danny with both of them doing circus level acrobatics.

It would just be Dick chasing Danny at full speed like "This is identity theft!"

And Danny snapping back with "Fuck you! Let me enjoy my lunch in peace Dick!"

He doesn't know Dicks name he's just calling him a dick, but this solidifies it in Dicks mind that he is a clone. So when Dick finally runs Danny into a dead end he demands to know who created him. Danny's confused as hell cause the suspiciously acrobatic civilian is calling him clone and demanding to know who made him. Not wanting to deal with being called a clone he responds to Dick's question.

"Uh... my parents created me dude. I'm just a shapeshifter I don't know what to tell you," after saying that he shapeshifts back a shovels a handful of fries into his mouth.

Dick is utterly baffled when his not clone turns into a small fanged child that looks to be about Damian's age when they were first introduced. He's just staring awkwardly as this kid wolfs down food like he hasn't seen a decent meal in months. The entire time Danny's stuffing his face Dick's have a mental debate on whether or not he should take Danny home to Bruce or not. If he doesn't, the severely malnourished child doesn't get a proper meal but if he does bring the kid back he has to admit that he chased a suspected clone in public and ignored the fact the gear he had on him detected the shapeshifters heartbeat in his stomach before he shapeshifted back into his true form. (My personal headcannon that Danny cannot change where his heartbeat would beno matter how big or small he is)

Dick ends up bribing Danny with food to come back with him.

(Sorry if this was bad I wrote this at three am. Also smart bby Danny is my heart and soul!)

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom crossover #Dc #danny phantom prompt

[yxngbxkkie]

school boy crush (h.j)

hello!! 🩷 i was watching the mv for gone away and thought about this idea for hanji! 🥰 i hope you guys really like it 🥹

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

Chan and Jisung walk through the doors of their favorite coffee shop. "How do you feel about doing a writing session later?" Jisung asks the older member, quickly looking up at him.

"Yeah, for sure. You already asked Bin about it?" Chan mentions while the two wait in line.

Jisung nods his head in response, typing a message to the other member as they speak. "Of course, I did. It wouldn't be a 3RACHA writing session if Changbinnie wasn't there," he laughs, locking his phone after sending the text.

Chan laughs and agrees with his statement. He steps up to the cashier before giving his order. "You want coffee?" He asks Jisung, quickly glancing back.

"Yes, please," Jisung answers politely, offering him his card. Chan shakes his head, telling Jisung that he's got it. "You bought it last time. Let me do it, hyung."

"Fine, fine," Chan sighs and grabs the card from his hands.

After paying for the drinks, the two members move towards the pick-up counter. Both Chan and Jisung scroll through their phones as they wait for their drinks to be ready. Three loud knocks on the window startle the two members, and they look back to see you standing outside the café.

You wave at them before rushing into the coffee shop. "Hi, Chan! Hi Hanji!" You greet them with a quick hug.

Jisung's heart starts pounding in his chest, the scent of your perfume reaching his nose. "Hi," he whispers, wishing the hug you gave him lasted a smidge longer.

"I thought you were busy today," Chan mentions after greeting you.

"Yeah, I thought I was too," you scoff, rolling your eyes. The barista calls out Chan's name, and the brunette holds a finger up to stop you, turning to grab their drinks.

He hands Jisung his before the three of you walk out of the café. "So, what happened?" Chan asks.

The three of you walk down the street together, the two members slowly sucking down their drinks. "This fucking guy messaged me this morning and said that he couldn't make it," you inform him while crossing your arms over your chest.

"Really?" Chan groans, shaking his head. "I told you he wasn't good for you."

Jisung looks between the two of you, staying silent in the conversation. "I know, but I thought he'd be different," you sigh, tilting your head back.

The younger member's heart clenches in his chest at the sight of you. "Well, listen," Chan pipes up, snapping Jisung from his gaze. "We don't have anywhere to be for a couple of hours. Why don't we do some shopping?"

"I don't want to intrude," you mention to them, your eyes dancing between the two members.

"You're not," Jisung intervenes, holding a hand out. He smiles softly at you and tears his gaze from you, feeling his cheeks warm up. "I promise."

"Okay," you cave, grinning widely.

Chan and Jisung look at one another before returning their eyes to you. "Great!" Chan excitedly says, clapping his hands together. "Let me go call our driver. I'll be right back."

Jisung watches as Chan walks back into the coffee shop, not wanting the noisy streets to disrupt the phone call. You stand beside Jisung with your hands shoved into your pockets.

A part of you wishes you could talk to him more. You think he's a really cool guy, after all the stories Chan has told you. But, every time you get the chance, you get nervous.

"I'm sorry," Jisung says suddenly, getting you out of your head. You glance up at him as he keeps his gaze on the sidewalk. "About that guy ditching you. He's an idiot."

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you release a deep breath. "It's okay," you reassure him. "It's his loss."

He nods his head in agreement, taking a quick glance at you. "Definitely," Jisung chuckles before taking a sip of his coffee.

You make eye contact with one another, and both of you look away just as fast. You press your lips together as Chan rejoins you.

"Okay," he mentions, shoving his phone into his pocket, "Skijigi said he'll be here in five minutes."

"Are you sure you guys want to spend part of the day with me?" You ask the two of them while you wait.

Both Chan and Jisung scoff at your question, making your eyes widen. "We couldn't be more sure right, Hannie?" Chan nudges the member's shoulder.

"Right, for sure," Jisung agrees, running a hand through his hair.

A black SUV pulls up to the curb, and Chan walks to the vehicle first. He opens the back door before greeting the staff members inside. Jisung gets into the vehicle next, and you follow closely, sliding in afterward.

Your thigh brushes against Jisung's, and you swear you could combust right here. You place your hands in your lap as the two members start to look through their phones again.

You find yourself looking back and forth from Jisung to what's going on outside. The ride to the nearest shopping center, thankfully, doesn't take that long. You're not sure how much longer you can take being in close proximity.

Once the car parks outside of the large building, you quickly get out. You tuck some hair behind your ear as the other two get out after. Chan leads the three of you into the shopping mall, and you thank him while walking past him.

"You doing okay?" Chan asks as you walk around.

You hum and nod your head. "Yeah, I'm alright," you tell him while lifting your head.

"Han didn't offend you or anything while I was on the phone?" He questions, intentions of scolding his member in mind. "Because the two of you are acting a little strange."

"No, no, God no," you shake your head, resting a hand on Chan's arm. "He just… he makes me a little nervous."

A knowing smirk grows on Chan's lips as he glances towards Jisung. "He does? I didn't know that," he giggles, nudging you lightly.

You roll your eyes, and you shove him. "Shut up!" You laugh a little too loud, capturing Jisung's attention.

He eyes the two of you cautiously before looking forward again. The smile on your lips drops after noticing the sad look in his brown eyes.

"Don't tell him I told you this," Chan whispers into your ear as you all walk into a store, "but you make him nervous too."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look back up at him. "I do?" You whisper.

"One hundred percent," he giggles.

From where you're standing, you can see Jisung looking through the men's section. Your hands are still on the clothes you're looking through when his eyes meet yours. You smile at him before looking back at the clothes.

"You two would be cute," Chan hums, teasing you lightly.

"I hate you," you laugh, shoving the older member away from you.

Chan giggles some more before walking away from you. You smile to yourself as you find an article of clothing you really like. It's a pair of baggy jeans, something you've been trying to get into recently.

"These are so cute," you whisper to yourself while toying with the price tag, checking it. A gasp leaves your lips, and you put them back, not being able to afford them right now.

"Whatcha looking at?" Jisung whispers, startling you from your thoughts.

You jump in your spot, taking a couple of steps to your right. Jisung smiles softly at you while glancing towards the pair of jeans.

"I found these jeans I like, but I just… can't afford them right now," you chuckle nervously, shuffling your hair.

"I'm sure Chan would get them for you," he mentions while checking them out as well.

You shake your head, and you begin to walk away. "I can't ask him to do that. I'll just wait on them," you tell him, motioning for him to follow.

Jisung watches you leave the store, meeting up with Chan. He makes sure you're distracted before grabbing the jeans you were admiring.

~

Hyunjin's hands cover your eyes as he leads you blindly into their dorm. Giggles leave your lips while you hold both of your hands out, making sure not to run into anything.

“Is this necessary?” You ask aloud, attempting to turn to look at Hyunjin.

“Yes! Hush now,” he says with a light huff. “On three, you can open your eyes.”

You nod your head, and Hyunjin begins to count down. As soon as he says one, your eyes open.

“Surprise!” The rest of the members stand in the kitchen, a cute cake sitting on the table.

Your jaw drops as your eyes instantly find Chan's, knowing it was his idea. He walks up to you first and brings you into his chest.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N,” Chan smiles, messing up your hair a bit.

A groan leaves your lips, and you playfully push him away from you. You fix your hair and thank them, leaning forward to blow the candle on the cake out.

“You guys didn't have to do this,” you mention while Jisung grabs a few gift bags.

He sets them on the coffee table, motioning for you to sit down. “We wanted to,” Jisung smiles at you and sits next to you.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, feeling really grateful to have friends like them. You thank the members before grabbing one of the gift bags.

The gifts begin to pile beside you, having one more gift left. “I still think you guys didn't need to buy me anything,” you chuckle while grabbing the small card, noticing that it's from Jisung.

“Well, Chan wouldn't let us be the gift,” Seungmin jokes, sitting on the arm of the chair.

Chan smacks the back of his head playfully, telling the younger member to shush. “You're an important person in our lives. You deserve to let us treat you,” Chan explains with a smile.

You smile widely while opening the card in your hands. You read the sweet message he wrote on it, finding yourself blushing a bit. You glance towards Jisung and see him holding out a medium-sized gift.

A quiet thank you comes from your lips, tucking the card back into the envelope. You grab the wrapped gift from him before gently opening it. “Jisung,” you gasp at the sight of the jeans you wanted.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear.

“Thank you again,” you smile at him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

His cheeks blush, and he looks down at his lap after you pull away. You pull the pair of jeans out from the gift box, showing the other members.

“Oh, those are so cute!” Hyunjin mentions while reaching for them. “Jisung, you bought this?”

Hyunjin's eyes dance towards the younger member. Jisung raises his head and clears his throat. “Y-Yeah, after noticing how much Y/N wanted them,” he explains, wondering how red his face is.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you look back at Jisung. “I love it,” you tell him, nudging his arm with yours.

“I'm glad,” he whispers to you again, moving to rest his hand on your leg.

“Boys,” Chan says, capturing everyone's attention. “Why don't we go get some wine to celebrate?”

The others start to agree, and you watch the seven of them walk towards the door to their apartment. Jisung stands up from the couch, and Chan stops him.

“Stay here and keep the birthday girl company,” he mentions with a smirk, causing Jisung's eyes to widen slightly.

You look between Jisung and Chan before chuckling softly. “They'll be back soon,” you reassure Jisung, patting the seat next to you.

He sits back down beside you as the front door shuts. Silence fills the apartment, and you start to gather your gifts in one pile, picking up the wrapping paper.

“You like what you got?” Jisung asks after a few minutes, his eyes on you.

You nod your head while sitting back down, patting his thigh gently. “I do. I appreciate you guys so much,” you mention with a sigh. You rest your head against the back of the couch, admiring his side profile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, turning his head towards you.

“Did you buy the jeans when we went shopping? Is that why you took so long?” You question.

He nods his head in answer, adjusting his seating position. “You looked so defeated when you saw the price. I just wanted to make you happy,” Jisung explains, his boba eyes meeting yours.

“You make me so happy,” you sigh, reaching a hand out to comb it through his hair.

“Really?”

You nod your head and glide your hand down to his cheek. You stroke the supple skin before leaning in. You can hear his breath hitch in his throat, and your heart beats wildly against your chest.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” You ask him, not wanting him to be uncomfortable.

“God, please,” he mumbles.

You giggle and connect your lips with his. A groan comes from him as he immediately kisses you back. The kiss doesn't last for long, Jisung pulling back after a minute or so.

“I like you a lot,” he rambles, resting his forehead on yours.

“I couldn't have guessed,” you tease him, giggling before kissing the tip of his nose. He scoffs playfully, pushing you lightly. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him back towards you. “I like you too, Han Jisung. So, so, so much.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

#han jisung #han jisung imagine #han jisung imagines #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung scenarios #han jisung fluff #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung fanfic #han jisung fic #han jisung drabbles #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff

[emilio-the-dumb-wrestler]

I'm settling into middle age and I kinda hate it. I know there's some guys who enjoy the struggle though. So, could you maybe swap me with an old man who wants it? The fatter, the better, the balder, the better. I want to skip straight to retirement.

Woah for real ? I mean. Id that’s what you want I won’t judge. I’m sure I can convince some old man to swap plac…..oh look I found one.

You’re sitting on the couch while I finalize the paperwork needed to make this happen and then I look at you. “ you sure you want this?” I look you up and down and you just look back same and with out hesitation you say “yes. Make me an old fat bald fuck!” I just laugh and tell you that you won’t be bald exactly but you will be…well. You’ll figure it out. “So my dear man. What I’ve done here is a bit of a trait swap of sorts. Over the next day or so you’re going to be going through some massive changes. And I mean MASSIVE. You’re going to be swapping traits with a man I’ve had on a wait list for a while. Someone who wanted to be younger. I would offer more information but… well you’ll find out”. You stand up and instantly sway on your feet. “Woahhh” you say as you head is dizzy. I just laugh. “Yeah…that happened to him. It also doesn’t help that you’ve failed 10 pounds since I started this..”. You feel you stomach and it feels a larger than normal. “I would buy some larger clothes. … I would suggest ….lets just say the biggest they have. And I’d get them before you go home…”. Leaving my office you take my warning and go to the clothing store next door and you buy the largest clothes they have. 5xl t shirt and a pair of since 60x30 pants. The cashier was wondering why you were buying them since you were so tiny and you just laughed and said “I plan to gain a little weight” you were both laughing at the joke. Her note realizing how serious you were but it needed when you laugh turned to a raspy cough and when you said goodbye your voice was older. Like that of a 62 year old man. Leaving the store your shirt is tight and your stomach is already poking out in Front of you. But the time you make it home your shoes are already time. Damnit you forgot to get some shoes. Goes by the way your gaining weight you should have got some crocs or something. Your shirt feels as though it’s suffocating you and you take it off. Only to be met with an extremely hairy torso. Everyone of you is covered in hair now. Arms. Chest. Shoulders and back. It’s like looking at a sweater. One you can’t take off. One that the kids made fun off all the time. And under it all was a protruding gut that wasn’t there before. And some saggy moobs.

You can’t beleive this is all happening and so fast!! You take off your pants. Because they are so tight and uncomfortable. Even doing that proves to be a chore for you at this size. You sit down on the couch and you can feel you back hair filling in. You look down and see the hair on you stomach turning. Grey and you can’t help but get hard. Taking your socks off you can see that your feet are getting older and it looks like some varicose veins are showing up on your legs. Hard to see under the thing hair that is turning great but it’s there. You scratch you face and you can feel that your face has gotten fatter. You guess that you had to be at least 50 now or so. Far from the 40 you previously. But that’s all. You wait for more changes to happen but it doesn’t seem like anything is happening. You keep going to the mirror to check but you do t see anymore changes happening. Every time you are disappointed and cuss. “Damnit I thought there would be some more changes by now!” You decide to go outside on your patio to sit in the sun. Annoyed that the changes have stopped. Still you are please with the 10 years you were able to gain. Sitting in the chair you lean back and you fall asleep. But that’s what it took. You body needed to rest. It takes a lot to change a man. When you wake up you look down to see that nothing else has change but when you feel it. Leaning forward you can feel you stomach slowly pushing you backward. Looking down you are shocked. It’s happening! You stomach is literally growing right before you eyes!! You neck gets fatter as you body continues to swell. You gut grows so large that it will cause you to waddle for the rest of your life. Sweat stains will be on everything. You really should have got some slip on shoes you think to yourself because there is no way you’ll ever be reaching you old man feet again. And your snitch now as the fat continues to swell and hair continues to grow. You eye site turns to garbage and you’ll need glasses from here on out. When you feel the changes stop you’ll be lucky to fit on those 5xl shirts.

You manage to get out of the chair with great struggle. And waddle to the house. You’re so large with all this added fat. You sit on the couch and struggle to put one day leg in each hole. You stand up and struggle. Struggle with all your might to pull the once oversized pants up. And you find that they are too small. Your mouth falls from shock realizing that you now have a waist size larger than 60. And even though you could see it. You could feel it. You were dripping pre cum on you feet from being so horny from all the changes you went through to be this old fat fuck of a man.

[apuckishwit]

"Sorry! I only speak English."

Steddie

"Sorry! I only speak English." Eddie offers what he hopes is an appropriately apologetic smile, holding his city map a little higher and offering it to the thoroughly unimpressed-looking cashier in the little shop he'd ducked into. "Train station?" he asks, racking his brain for any of the helpful phrases Gareth had tried drilling into him before the guys let him go wandering alone. "See-voo-play? Train? Uh, ho-hotel de...uh, fuck, Grand Vista Hotel?"

If he can get back to the rail station, he knows he'll be able to make it back to the hotel. The cashier tilts her head, now looking a little insulted as well as unimpressed and FUCK. It had seemed like such a romantic idea, exploring the French countryside by himself for a couple days before the show. He's been working on a few ballads for their next album...looking for ways to keep their sound fresh, keep their fans on their toes...and this had seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some inspiration. Quiet his head a little, get into a writing mood.

Only now he is lost as shit in this quaint city where there are hardly any signs in English and everybody seems to only speak French and he's supposed to be back in Paris TONIGHT and he has no idea how to fucking get there. And like, yes, he's very aware that he's living up to some very bad American stereotypes right now, but Gareth will actually kill him if he fucks this opportunity up for them (they're in motherfucking PARIS, opening for a motherfucking HUGE music festival...this is big for them) and he's frustrated enough that he thinks he might actually start crying and what is he going to DO???

"Hey man, you need some help?"

He is so startled by the thoroughly American voice behind him that he whips around, fast enough that he dislodges the baseball cap he's tucked his hair up into. He barely catches it before it goes flying, dropping his map in the process.

"Shit, sorry, let me..." The stranger shifts his basket of charmingly-wrapped cheese and wine bottles to his other arm and crouches down, gathering up the map. He looks up at Eddie as he holds it out to him and all Eddie can think is that there is a great deal he would give up in the world if he could have this vision on his knees in front of him every night.

The guy is fucking beautiful. Eddie can feel song lyrics bubbling up inside of him--an ode to those perfect lips, that creamy, mole-dotted skin, the way his jeans stretch enticingly over the muscles of his thighs as he stands, still holding the map out. Eddie's staring, but he can't help it. He takes the map in a daze. The guy cocks an eyebrow.

"Didn't mean to scare you, you just sounded like you needed help." He turns towards the cashier with a bright, charming smile, placing his purchases on the counter and starts speaking with her in what sounds like damn near perfect French. Eddie swallows hard at the lilting, beautiful language in that voice. Fuck. He guesses he has a language kink now. Who knew?

"Um, I do! Need help, that is," he blurts after the stranger has completed his transaction, whipping out a black AmEx card like it's nothing. "I need to get back to Paris tonight, but I'm, um, I'm lost as fuck." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck and ruffling his now loose curls. His breath catches when the stranger follows the movement, a slight gleam of what Eddie VERY much hopes is interest lighting those honey brown eyes. Fuck, forget the French countryside--Eddie's got a goddamn MUSE standing right in front of him.

The guy smiles, just as charming, just as friendly, but is there a little bit of flirtatiousness in there as well? "Well, it just so happens my friend and I are heading into the city tonight for some music festival she's been dying to go to since, like, before we met. I'd be happy to make sure you get back."

Heaven really is smiling on Eddie today.

"Oh? I'd be...grateful," he says, taking a risk and laying on some innuendo. Wants to fist pump when the smile widens. That is definitely interest in those eyes now. The guy sticks his hand out.

"Steve," he says, his grip firm and sure when Eddie takes his hand to shake.

"Eddie," he says, and God, wandering around the French countryside by himself is the BEST idea he's ever had.

"If you are not going to buy anything else, please step away from the counter," the cashier huffs. In perfect English.

#Steddie #stranger things #my wriitng #Fic prompt

[bbanghiitomi]

| milf (man i love fish moms)

synopsis: kim minji who works at a cafe develops a crush on a girl who she saw in a pet store, that girl is her neighbor — minji doesn't know.

— nonidol!kminji × nonidol!femreader

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

kim minji vividly remembers the memory of when she first saw you, it was in a pet store located near the apartment complex she lives in. it sat in the middle of two restaurants, one is a fast-food restaurant and another one is a cafe, where she works as a cashier. she remembers how you stared at the fishes with so much adoration, your eyes were wide — sparkling like you had the universe inside of them.

minji remembers standing there, wearing her uniform and having to slap herself back awake when she realized she's been staring at you for quite a long time. because why the fuck was she there staring down an innocent girl gawking over fishes in a tank instead of doing whatever job she had? she literally only went to the pet store to bring the owner a box.

minji felt like a weirdo, for a moment only.

then she started thinking of you more often, not realizing that you lived in the same apartment as she did, the same floor and all. it's not like minji liked making friends, yeah she's sociable and all but she hated dealing with landlords and annoying neighbors.

so the door next to her apartment was always ignored, she never really had gotten a chance to know who the person living inside was. minji only got to know pham hanni, the girl who lived on the lower floor. they were friends, they also took the same classes.

meanwhile, you were stuck inside your apartment, which turned out to be the apartment next to minji's. you lived quite a comfortable life, you were content with whatever you have today, there's no point in looking for more.

you work at home, study online — play video games, eat, walk around the house and then take care of your fish, sometimes stare at them with your mouth wide open, amazed.

there's nothing in this world that you love more than fish, you study about them, you watch videos about them — you are practically obsessed with fish and there's nothing changing you. you see these fishes as your own, you bought them all the things they need, spent money on corals and bigger tanks, oxygen and fillers.

whenever you can, you'd research about a new fish and you try to look for them around every pet store that exists near your place.

you also have a turtle in a separate tank, you named him sheldon — which your brother didn't quite like.

your life revolves around these things only, and you could never be thankful enough for it. you never see a space in your life for love life, it's always unavailable because you care about things that you have now more than what you wish for.

but sometimes, there are people who are not content with your life — like your mother!

she finds your fear of stepping out of your comfort zone a not-so-good thing, it may affect how you live for the next few years, your confidence and more, and one of the things she hates is a kid who is fearful.

"honey, when will you find a partner? i'm worried you're not able to take care of yourself alone there." your mother sighed, for a thousand times already. it gets tiring but you understand that she's just worried, i mean you have no other sources of happiness, you have no one to lean on when there are problems.

you never saw that as a problem, it gets hard yeah but it's all good, right?

"mom, thanks but look — i don't think it's the right time for that. i'm still young and i have a lot of things on my plate right now." you answered, the phone on your hand and the other is wiping the moss away from the tank, it's not necessary to do that but you want to see your kids better.

"but who will you talk to when we're not there? y/n, you need a shoulder to lean on. you need someone to share sentiments with, to care for. you need to create more relationships, it's good!" seriously, you love your mom but sometimes she can get a little pushy.

but she did have a point.

"I'll think about it." you replied, trying to fight the urge to sigh in defeat. you hear your mom hum, a sign that she's satisfied with your answer.

the next day, you find yourself inside a cafe, beside the pet shop you visit all the time. you sat at a table near the counter, scrolling away on your phone to a website showcasing various species of fishes.

to be quite frank, it is your first time visiting here — you never paid much attention to this place, you eat by ordering and making foods yourself at your place. you liked it that way, you hated engaging interaction the social anxiety just isn't good.

you found the strength to stand up and make an order to the counter and as you walk — a certain cashier has her eyes on you. minji felt a tension arising from her, as you got closer and closer, minji got more skittish. she doesn't understand why but when she made eye contact with you, her knees felt weak.

"good morning!" minji greeted you, with a gorgeous smile on her face. you blinked at her and tried to smile back, but you screamed mentally realizing it might have looked forced and awkward. "good morning." you greeted back.

"may i take your order?" your eyes shot at the menu on the screen above, darting at the selection of food and drinks. there's this familiar feeling in your stomach, the same feeling you get during a class presentation when you're about to present your work or when you know you fucked the exam up.

erm, what do i want again? you ask yourself.

finding it hard to choose and to speak, afraid you might make any mistake and forever embarrass yourself. you remembered this one technique your brother taught you.

he said: "if you ever find yourself stuck in front of a pretty cashier and suddenly forget the basics of how to order food, just say — hey what's your recommendation? it works!"

your brother knows damn well it doesn't, and you yourself knows that too. everyone knows your brother is an airhead, he probably thinks it does wonders to literally anyone, then again he managed to be in a relationship with someone.

but alas, you were desperate.

"hey miss, what do you recommend here?" you were quite surprised, it went out smoothly, you didn't stutter and was able to hold eye contact for more than five seconds. minji smiled and pushed strands of her hair behind her ear.

honestly, minji has her own favorites, she has a lot of recommendations in the menu — there is a lot of good stuff in here but… she looks at you and sees quite an expectant look on your face (in reality, it's just you looking constipated and wanting to cut this social interaction quickly).

"i guess kombucha and cinnamon rolls, i think you'll like them." minji stated, her gummy smile looked pleasant to your eyes and you loved her energy, weirdly enough you were able to calm yourself down. with a nod, you bowed your head. "thanks, i'll take them." after paying, you're first thought is to leave the counter but —

"what's your name?" the cashier asked. you raised your eyebrows, there's this awkward twitching on the corner of your lips — you let out an airy laugh. "uhm, y/n." you see minji writing it on a paper before giving the receipt to you.

god, that was hard.

minji smiled, she really cannot help it.

you went back to the seat you were at a few moments ago, then started contemplating about your life, wishing you were sitting in front of your fish tank so the thoughts go 'round your head faster. it's hard to concentrate here, there are too many people.

your phone vibrated in your pocket, you dug your hand in and pulled your phone out to a message from you mother.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

y/nnnn my daughter

i still remember what you told me

so, do you plan on meeting someone?

i am excited to hear about your thoughts

seen.

ah of course, your mom again. you knew she's not gonna give up that easily — but there was no way you can convince her, you've already kind of… promised her a positive answer so it's hard to turn back. at this rate, you'd have to get on with it, get a date or something.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

erm

hi mom

i need more time,

i promise!

i need to get to know people more

sent.

you clear your throat when you feel the waiter approach your table with your order. minji stood by the counter, watching over you with a smile on her face.

the easiest way to find the perfect match for you is either through an app (which you KNOW you would hate) or through a mutual friend, which would probably be a safer option rather than being abducted.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

well, i am expecting a good news by the end of this month

i know my amazing daughter would never disappoint ;)))

and plus i want you to be happy with someone

i can't stand you being alone there

seen.

well you are quite miserable, you wouldn't deny that but hey — you are trying! at least, that's the second best thing you can do for yourself.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

alright i know mom,

don't worry, you'll meet the perfect person by the end of the month

they'll love fish too

sent.

your mother's reply came soon after you sent your message and you can't help but sigh playfully.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

they better love fish!

my daughter can't be with someone who isn't willing to be a fish parent

>:(((

seen.

you still love your mom even if she's annoying.

when minji came back to her apartment, she didn't expect a visitor — which turned out to be her best friend; pham hanni. "hi bff! did you miss me?" hanni grinned at her friend, walking her way to the dining table and taking a cookie from the bowl.

minji rolled her eyes and smiled. "i see you everyday, pham."

hanni laughed and stood with her arms crossed.

"hey, remember when you used to complain about being lonely and sad?" hanni spoke, making her way to the living as minji went ahead of her. minji sighed and nodded. "oh yeah, i was drunk that time pham, forget it." minji responded, getting a scoff from hanni.

"just as i found a solution!" minji looked at hanni as they stood in the middle of the living room, her brow rising at the bold claim from hanni. "and what about it?" hanni pushed her friend lightly by the shoulder. "oh, don't act stupid! look, i'm setting you up on a date." hanni shrugged when minji looked at her with a "are you serious?" face — not forgetting the pout on her lips.

"and with who?" minji snarked.

hanni shook her head, raising her index finger and shaking it. "nuh-uh! can't tell, jihye said it's a secret." she proceeded to giggle over the mention of her girlfriend, which made minji fake a gag to mask her jealousy.

yeah, i definitely DON'T want a girlfriend for sure.

"thanks to your girlfriend i guess." minji sighed. she really wanted to bite the offer, but the fact that she's currently into someone else (which happened to be you) remains, how is she supposed to be there and act all interested?

that's gonna be harsh.

but then, it's not like she's gonna lose something.

"so? deal or no deal?" hanni nudged her friend. minji rolled her eyes playfully and said: "deal, gremlin."

and you found yourself fiddling g your fingers as you sat at a different restaurant that your friend, jihye reserved for you and your supposedly blind date.

you hope whoever that is jihye decided to set you up with wouldn't be an asshole, that's too much to ask for but hey — that has to be at least someone jihye knows of.

you were nervous, to say that you felt confident would be an understatement — you lowkey wished the restaurant had a tank with fish for you to stare at, but all they have here is a tank of lobsters that are on their life sentences, to be served as a dish.

this isn't good. you told yourself, feeling the same bubbling feeling inside you.

"hey," your head turns and you see a familiar face.

minji?

minji!

or to you, is the cashier from the cafe.

"y/n?" she muttered, looking at you. your eyes twitched, but gave her a small and shy smile.

a part of you is thankful it was her, rather than anybody else it had to be that pretty cashier from the cafe.

minji was happy, rejoicing inside her head when you stretched a hand at her.

"l/n y/n." you cracked a smile, this time it felt natural. minji chuckled a little, feeling her face burning up with the sensation of your palms on hers, the soft skin rubbing on her calloused one.

"i'm kim minji."

then all your worries were washed away when minji helped you get through the conversation, you liked her caring personality. it seems like she finds it easy reading people's moods and is able to choose her words very well.

you liked that.

you like her enough to let this little date be more than just a one time thing.

"i study marine biology! i like the water and i used to live near a shore at busan. i have a lot of pet fish and a turtle named sheldon." you watched as she listened attentively, her eyes darting at your face and to your lips — you like that, her way of showing interest. you like it when people care about what you say.

minji doesn't really care about fish, but she cares about the ocean, hello? — she was the one who suggested the use of papers in their cafe.

but it wasn't as intense as your interest, you seemed deep in the ocean studies (no pun intended, really). it didn't bother minji, as long as a pretty girl gets to say what she wants, minji's fine with that.

"that's cool! you know marine and like bodies of water are interesting." minji sees the glimmer in your eyes, it's like the skies at night are nothing compared to the blinding light in your pupils. you nod at her. "i want to say more, but there's not much time left. if you want, here's my number. i can invite you to my place anytime you're free." you passed her a card, it's your phone number.

minji looked up at you with flushed cheeks, you looked down and laughed softly.

when you got back home, the first thing you did was get your phone and message your friend.

mo jihye U⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠U

hey

it was great

it went soo well

thanks

sent.

then your mom, you think of minji with a smile — feeling the excitement rush inside of you.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

moommmm

i think i will be able to introduce you to someone

don't get too excited but,

she's great!

she likes the ocean too

sent.

your phone vibrated to messages of your mom, jihye then an unknown number.

mo jihye U⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠U

oh my god???

really??

you like minji???

that sauurrrr amazing!

seen.

you laughed, kicking your feet by the edge of your bed.

mo jihye U⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠U

i get it now,

i'll invite her idk when but i will

sent.

you scroll through the messages.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

oh that's amazing!

i can't wait to meet her!

is she pretty?

does she have a job?

what's her hobby?

seen.

you decided to check out the unknown number.

unknown number

hey,

this is minji

;))

what's up?

seen.

you couldn't help but giggle; it's such a weird feeling but it's nice and you don't mind it.

minji ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

all good

thanks for earlier,

you're so fun

hehe

sent.

mom (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠⌒⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠┫⁠：⁠・⁠┻⁠┻

that's way too many questions

still getting to know her more!

but we'll get there

just wait :D

sent.

you keep thinking about minji, it's too fast you think? but she's got that vibes, as long as she doesn't plan on murdering you, you believe it's going to be well. she's interested, and so are you — it's not gonna be that bad, right?

there's still doubt but it's not that bad to indulge yourself for a while, you hate second guessing and you like going for what you want.

minji ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

nah, thank you too

hey, can't wait to hear more from you ;))

let's see each other often :pp

nice to meet you.

seen.

oh how fast you two have been, but that doesn't matter. you were ready to invite her over to your place, and she was ready to accept it — making sure she guessed a date you'll give her an invite, making sure it's free.

you plan on giving her an invite today, though the both of you have no idea where each other lives — still, it's quite crazy right? you are starting to realize that it's not just liking, or interest, you are fond of her now and it's going to be hard to ignore the way she makes your mind go crazy.

the last time you felt this frenzy was when you first got your fish tank.

her smile, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and her lips. minji is a dream, the type of dream you get in a deep slumber. meanwhile, minji loves you — already, it's a foolish thing to say but she really couldn't get enough, the way her heart gets crazy when you're near. the circuit of electricity running inside her veins your hands touch, your lips look magnetic.

she's desperate for more.

"just finished your shift?" you asked her, your finger twirling on the strand of your hair, the other hand on your phone, pressed to your cheek— you laid on your back, your weight pressed on the soft mattress of your bed. you tried to fight a smile, but the sound of her breath takes you away. "yeah, about to go home actually." she responded. you can hear shuffling from the other line and figured it might be her packing up her stuff.

"can i tell you something?" you asked her, minji raised her brows and stopped from what she was doing. "yeah?"

"can you come over here to my place? whenever you're free." minji felt herself frozen, she looked around the room to see if anyone was there, took a peek behind the wall before smiling from ear to ear. "yes, i don't mind tomorrow." you smiled, practically trying your best to fight the urge not to roll over your bed and fall.

"o-oh, yes! i'll send you my address."

minji chuckled and nodded. "alright."

here's the thing, as minji was walking her way back to the apartment complex, you were inside your apartment — the door next to hers, she doesn't know it's you of course, and you don't know it's her next door. minji walked past your door and stopped in front of hers, then her eyes darted to the door of your apartment.

i wonder who lives here.

must be an old woman or something.

minji then entered her apartment and received a message from you.

minji ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

hey,

this is my address

×××× bldg. 3rd floor - ××××

see you!

sent.

minji placed her bag on the couch and read your message, her eyes checked if she saw it correctly.

the same building, the same location, the same floor — minji rushed outside of her door and then to your door, there's a number plate, exactly like what you sent her.

minji took a deep breath, then she knocked.

you were staring at your fish tank, heard the door knocking and wondered who it might be, it's not like you had any conversations with the person living next door nor knew anyone in this apartment complex.

as you opened the door, you were greeted by a not-so-much taller girl, your eyes met hers and you were taken back. "minji?" you peek outside your door and back to minji who smiled. "why are you here already?" you asked, with actual confusion in your voice.

minji chuckled and pointed to the apartment next to yours. "i live there. i just found out you live here too." she spoke with that deep voice of hers, sending chills to your spine.

you laughed. "oh my god." you put a hand on your face and stared at minji, her eyes looked so… cute today? you don't know, but you really think it's a precious sight to look at and get yourself lost in, the same feeling you get when you stare at your pets. then you can't help but smile wider, a blush painting your cheeks pink.

your mom will love minji, you'll make sure of it.

minji laughed, her eyes turned crescents, her cheeks flaring red and the tip of her ears are a thousand shades of red. it's music to your ears, you've never felt this happy with a person ever before, you just realized. it's like everything momentarily stops, but you are hyper aware of your surroundings, minji's presence and all — even the loud thumping your heartbeat resonating with hers.

you want to touch her hand, feel her warmth on yours.

"i like you already." minji muttered, her smile never fading. you tried to contain a squeal, something you really never expected.

"me too, i think. i like you too minji."

#newjeans imagines #newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #female reader #danielle #hanni #minji #kpop imagines #kpop #girl group #Spotify

[lonepantheress]

♡ txt as summer jobs

pairing: ot5!txt

genre: crack

warnings: completely unserious.

a/n: my inspiration? work has been kicking my ass and i thought it'd be funny if a shitty summer job kicked their ass too! will be updating with a REAL FIC so soon

Yeonjun

Works everywhere and is somehow always broke

It starts to freak you out

Like you see him as your cashier getting ice cream

And then he’s stocking shelves at the store and you’re like, “Oh, that’s weird..”

And then he’s your waiter at a restaurant

And you’re like, “?????”

He’s all cute and nice and hates his job(s) and is like, “I’m saving for a car!”

But he can blow through a paycheck in like a week. 

If he’s your coworker omg I could imagine him being the coolest person ever.

Willing to pick up shifts, is fun to talk to when it isn’t busy, and gets shit done when it is.

I don’t see him being like the manager type, but the type that all the managers love even when he’s being super lazy just because he’s charming.

Soobin

Really sweet barista at Starbucks 

The type that you run and tell your friends about after you see him because he’s so attractive and so nice

He hates his job though.

I could see him not being a manager but instead being a “team leader” which is basically a manager in training wheels.

Always stressed. Always saying, “I think I’m going to quit soon”

His ass is NOT quitting soon

Like- if he quit, his coworkers would probably cry

Constantly cleaning because he’s constantly knocking things over.

Any embarrassing customer experience? He can safely say he’s had it

Really good at saving his money well

Like… suspiciously good.

Beomgyu

Works at like Forever 21 or something

And using “work” here loosely because he never shows up

How he isn’t fired a month in? Who knows.

A stickler for his job title too

“Oh, so you’re like a cashier at-”

“I’m actually a style consultant.”

He’s just a cashier with a fancy name.

He will hide in between clothing racks and play on his phone or chit-chat with someone else

And if he’s on register, he’s really not paying attention to his surroundings

“Hi, are you able to check me out?”

“What..”

“Like, can I pay here?”

“OH, YES, RIGHT! I WORK HERE!”

Will tell customers all the workarounds and codes and coupons they can stack without them even having to ask.

His giving out company secrets will probably get him fired before him never doing his job.

Taehyun

Works at some fast food spot and wins management over in like a week.

So efficient, so smart, so practical, he gets promoted in record time

the embodiment of this meme I'm sorry

He’s genuinely very good at his job and not necessarily proud of it, just good at it.

And he’s only so good because he uses common sense.

The old ladies that come in love him and are like, “You remind me of someone I knew when I was in high school!”

Will not cover any shifts for the LIFE of him, he would actually prefer you call out before asking him to cover your shift for you

He’d also be so annoying to couponers. It’d basically become a battle of who knows the company policy better

GOD at saving money. Has a 401k and retirement and college fund.

Kai

Game stop employee

Like if you’re buying a game that he knows, you’re stuck for another half hour listening to him talk about it

He gets in trouble for stashing away things that get sold out quickly for himself

He’s actually so sweet to the nerdy little kids in the store

But he also would tell their parents, “This game has a lot of violence and gore btw!!!!!” before they buy it for their kid

As a coworker would have the most fucked up inconsistent schedule

Shows up every day for 2 weeks in a row

And then disappears

And then shows up every day again and you’re like “hello???”

Would initiate the oddest small talk ever while the store is empty

“Do you ever wonder if a little pebble in your shoe is actually your toe rolling around?”

“No….”

“Yeah, me neither.”

#txt headcanons #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu headcanons #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #hueningkai imagines #huening kai #hueningkai #hueningkai angst #hueningkai drabble #hueningkai headcanons #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai x reader #soobin imagines #soobin #soobin angst #soobin fanfic #soobin fluff #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun fluff

[beskarandblasters]

Copycat Killer with a Chemical Cut - Copycat Killer Part Two

Famous Singer Joel x Stalker Fan Reader AU

Copycat Killer Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: After the events of Punisher the reader is fixated on seeing Joel again but this time from a distance. Her last encounter was too close for comfort… or so she thinks.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, written in third person, stalker behavior from reader (I mean it’s part two to Punisher what did you expect), no mentions of a physical description of reader besides the fact that she can cut/dye her hair, age gap (takes place in 2010 so Joel is 43 and reader is in her mid to late 20’s), drug use, drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, semi public sex, no use of y/n

The effects of the drugs are wearing off in a precipitous crash. She’s fading hard. She stumbles home as fast as she can, just wanting collapse in her bed and rot. She reaches her apartment building and drags herself up the stairs, so close to the end. She struggles to get the key in the keyhole, hands shaking violently as she tries to keep herself upright. She bursts through the door with a thud, surely disturbing the people below her. She falls into her bed as her mind replays the night’s events. She doesn’t know how to feel. She wanted to get close to Joel Miller but that was too close. The room is spinning and she can’t think straight. She closes her eyes to try and make it all stop and ends up drifting off to sleep. 

The morning light coming in through the window wakes her up with a pounding headache. She definitely got too fucked up last night because the higher you go, the harder the fall. She rolls over and checks her phone; 1:00. She slept in really late but that’s typical for her. She gets out of bed and looks in the mirror across her room, concocting a plan in her head about how to get close to Joel again. The thing is, she’s recognizable to him now. Despite all of the substances they were under, it’s hard to exactly forget an experience like that. What kind of person gets up and bolts without saying a word after giving a guy a blowjob?

And the idea strikes her weird little mind. It’s time to go to the store. She searches the nearest beauty supply store, changes out of last night's clothes, and begins the journey there. She walks everywhere, no matter how long of a walk it is.

“Man, I wish that I could say the same

I swear I'm not angry, that's just my face

A copycat killer with a chemical cut

Either I'm careless or I wanna get caught

Who I'm not”

On the walk there she thinks about last night again. She thinks about how nice Joel was to her. She just barged in on him alone in the pool house and he wasn’t even phased. She wishes she could be that nice but she’s too off putting. She doesn’t have people skills. And it doesn’t help that her appearance is just jarring. She’s usually in yesterday’s clothes, bags under her eyes, hair unkempt, and the resting bitch face ever so present. She was destined to be a loner. 

After the long walk she arrives at the beauty supply store. She walks up and down the aisles, scanning them for what she’s looking for; a hair bleaching kit. Her plan is to bleach all of her hair in the hopes that Joel wouldn’t recognize her. She’s hoping in the midst of his spiraling drug addiction that this will work. But is that even likely? Probably not. She’s lying to herself but deep down she knows it won’t work. She finds the kit and goes to the counter to pay, ignoring the judging looks from the cashier. She leaves hastily and speedwalks home, eager to get her plan going. She barges into her apartment and gets straight to work, stopping to do a line before starting the process…

She changes into a sleep shirt and stands in front of her bathroom mirror, taking a deep breath before opening the kit. The kit comes with gloves but why would she use them? She dumps the blueish paste into the clear plastic bowl before taking some on the brush, slathering her hair in a messy fashion. She covers her whole head, slicking her hair back and setting on a timer on her phone for when it’s time to wash it out. She sits down on her couch and flips through TV channels, looking to kill time. Night time is when she thrives, moving under the dark covert where she’s met with less judging eyes. The night is when she finds more people like her so the day time is when she normally retreats to the comfort of her apartment. 

She slumps against the couch, closing her eyes in exhaustion. The sound of the TV lulls her to sleep…

She awakes with a gasp and shoots up, desperately looking for a clock to check the time. She sees her phone on the floor and grabs it; 7 p.m, four hours have passed. Shit. She scurries to the bathroom and looks at her hair in the mirror. It’s bleached alright but it’s also fried. She jumps in the shower and starts washing the dried, crusted bleach out but to her horror her hair starts falling off in large clumps. She grabs a towel and gets out of the shower, looking at herself completely unphased. Her hair is much shorter now, with jagged, uneven ends. How could she be so fucking stupid? But in all honesty after the initial shock she didn’t care anymore.

She dries herself off and blow dries her hair, getting a better look at it now that it’s not drenched. It still looks like shit but not as bad as it looked wet. She gets dressed and makes herself look at least semi presentable. Tonight she’s going back out on the prowl for Joel, hoping to see him at the bar this time. She grabs her bag and a book to read and sets off into the evening. The judgmental stares are in full swing tonight thanks to the hair. But that sort of stuff never phased her and it surely isn’t phasing her now. She walks with her head up, purse slung over her shoulder and book clutched to her side, walking down the street without a care in the world. She can’t be worried about her appearance right now, not when she’s on a mission. 

She reaches the dive bar on the corner. It’s full of people who are probably not too far off from her vibe. She sits at the bar and orders a vodka soda and scans the room. No Joel yet so she cracks open her book, sipping on her drink and eavesdropping on others’ conversations as she reads. It’s nothing of importance. No one’s talking about him. She orders another drink and props her elbows on the bar, resting her head in her hands. She’s getting impatient. She had a taste of him last night and she’s desperate for more. She’s hoping and praying just to hear his hame, let alone see him again. She finishes the second drink and goes to the bathroom. She stares at herself in the mirror before doing a line to calm her nerves. When she returns she finds none other than Joel Miller sitting at the bar alone. It’s clear he drank before he came. And he’s definitely on some sort of substance. She opens her book and pretends to read; pretends to act like she hasn’t noticed him. But she notices him slide closer and closer to her out of her peripheral vision. Maybe the disguise didn’t work. Her eyes flicker back to her book before taking one more look and that’s when she sees Joel directly next to her. She gasps but before she can speak, Joel goes first. 

“I know you.”

“Do you?” 

“The pool house. You think you can just change your hair and then all of a sudden I wouldn’t recognize ya?”

He reaches for her chin and turns her face towards him to look her directly in the eye. 

“Can’t forget that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Her eyes widened. He’s so different from last night. Maybe it’s a different mixture of drugs? Maybe because he’s not at a party? 

Or maybe it’s because he knows she wants him. And now he’s taking advantage. 

“Meet me in the bathroom if you want a good time,” he says before getting up and walking down the hallway. 

She’s torn. At first she never wanted it to go this far. She just wanted to be near him without him noticing; to lurk in the shadows… But deep down she’s living for the thrill of it all. The dark, twisted side of her wants to get closer and closer to him, until she’s infiltrated every corner of his life. 

She grabs her bag and follows him, ready to just suck him off again. But it seems he has other plans. He presses her against the bathroom after it closes and kisses her, one hand palming her thigh and pulling up her skirt. His calloused fingers trail the seam of her underwear teasing her ever so slightly before pulling them down completely. While his fingers grazed the entrance of her cunt his mouth worked on her neck, marking it up with bites as she moaned against him. He pulls back and looks at her with a deranged look in his eye. But that didn’t scare her. He brings his fingers to his mouth and moistens them, bringing them back to her cunt. He pushes two fingers inside her, without warming her up with just one first. 

“A dirty girl like you can handle it,” he whispers against her ear, curling his fingers ever so slowly.

She writhes against the door in pleasure as Joel takes pleasure in teasing her. 

“Please… I need more,” she moans softly. 

His thumb finds her clit, sending her closer to the edge. Her moans fill the small bathroom as he works to bring her to orgasm. She cums around his fingers, soaking him down to his wrist with her release. He pulls his fingers out of her and grabs her waist, dragging her over to the bathroom sink. She bends over and stands on her tiptoes to lift her ass higher for him. He undoes his belt and slides down his pants. Something falls to the floor with a light thud but both of them are too horny, drunk and drugged out to give a shit. He slicks his cock with the wetness on his hand and pushes himself inside her. His hands squeeze the soft skin of her waist underneath her shirt, hard enough to leave a mark as he pulls her into him. Anyone outside the bathroom could hear their incoherent moans of pleasure and the sound of skin colliding with skin. With his size and the force he’s fucking her with she’s not going to last long. And apparently neither will he. She feels his cock tense up inside her so she pushes against him as he pushes against her. Her orgasm erupts from her core as she grips the sink, desperately trying to keep herself up as her legs are going weak. With one final slam he finishes, filling her up with his cum as he leans back and closes his eyes in pleasure, letting out a guttural moan in the process. She doesn’t flip out that he just came inside her. She’s still hung up on the fact that they just fucked inside the bathroom of this bar. He pulls out of her and pulls up his pants, cock still wet. 

“Thanks for a real fuckin’ good time, darlin’,” he says, kissing her on the cheek before leaving. He gave her the same treatment she gave him the night before. She cleans herself up with a paper towel and notices something on the floor; his wallet. She immediately picks it up and opens it without thinking, scanning it for his driver’s license. She pulls it out of the sleeve and takes note of the address. She puts the wallet in her bag and finishes cleaning herself up now that she has a new mission in mind. She leaves the bathroom and pays her tab at the bar before exiting onto the street. His house is in this neighborhood but also sort of not. She’s walking there of course but it’s gonna be a long walk. 

It’s past midnight now. She walks through the night, legs and abs sore from the bathroom sex earlier but she persists. Her high is fading, too. It’s a chore to get to his house but she wants this more than anything. 

She climbs up hills and weaves through the neighborhood, pulling out the license to make sure she’s going the right way every so often. But then she turns onto his street and picks up the pace now that the end goal is in sight. She stops in front of his house, nice but also modest; not overly flashy. It’s tan with green shutters and a rust colored roof. The lawn is slightly unkempt. It’s somehow exactly what she pictured in her mind when she thought of where Joel Miller would live. 

She checks her phone: 1:30 a.m. She drags herself to the front door and rings the doorbell; the alcohol in her stomach stirring thanks to her nerves. She heard a gruff “hang on” come from somewhere in the house. She waits for what feels like forever until Joel answers the door. He doesn’t realize who it is at first until his eyes adjust to the outside light above the door. The look on his face is one of pure horror as she breaks out into the widest grin. 

To be continued 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller imagine #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #the last of us hbo #beskarandblasters punisher #punisher #punisher phoebe bridgers

[samstclair]

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request - 

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And where are we off to, Miss?" 

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast. 

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?" 

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you. 

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you. 

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on. 

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself. 

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure. 

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit. 

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do. 

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game. 

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be. 

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever. 

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest. 

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one. 

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye. 

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr. 

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic. 

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh. 

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that. 

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it. 

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on. 

"Ello Miss? Miss?" 

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake. 

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up. 

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach - 

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out.  "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always. 

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight. 

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication. 

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what?  A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye. 

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking. 

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav. 

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe. 

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended. 

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car. 

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear. 

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned. 

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly. 

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell. 

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits. 

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray. 

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified. 

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.  

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up. 

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set. 

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it. 

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it. 

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime. 

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost. 

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry. 

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.  

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke. 

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused. 

"Y'all got a menu?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face. 

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale. 

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose. 

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities. 

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing. 

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked. 

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing. 

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked. 

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water. 

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles. 

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time. 

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through. 

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked. 

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked. 

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other. 

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber. 

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said. 

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen. 

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry. 

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought. 

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck. 

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%. 

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket." 

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling. 

You clicked play. 

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say. 

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg. 

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.  

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no. 

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit. 

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away. 

He didn't reply. 

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily. 

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat. 

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place. 

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead. 

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke. 

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier. 

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine. 

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words. 

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass. 

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined. 

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up. 

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up. 

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring. 

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating. 

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked. 

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad. 

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way. 

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him. 

"Most nights," he said. 

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend. 

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest. 

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second. 

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3. 

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you. 

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs. 

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think, 

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won. 

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic.  You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself, 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -" 

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo. 

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes. 

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless. 

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head. 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum? 

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo. 

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway. 

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter. 

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop. 

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose. 

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile. 

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground. 

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did. 

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker. 

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl. 

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had. 

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly. 

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.  

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now. 

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car. 

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window. 

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys. 

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life. 

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed. 

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself. 

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good. 

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake. 

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy. 

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road. 

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on. 

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades. 

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested. 

"What?" John asked. 

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades. 

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked. 

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities. 

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.  

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining. 

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅." 

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away. 

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else. 

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to. 

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there. 

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone. 

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good. 

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips. 

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored. 

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art. 

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great. 

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else. 

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating. 

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win."  You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong. 

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor. 

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays. 

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows. 

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross. 

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?" 

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat. 

You almost laughed. 

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless. 

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.  

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts. 

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused. 

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall. 

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak. 

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches. 

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane. 

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself. 

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment. 

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat. 

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran. 

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you. 

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted. 

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried. 

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet. 

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had. 

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping? 

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

 You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race. 

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere. 

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her. 

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy. 

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier. 

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen. 

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual. 

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling. 

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe. 

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot. 

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like. 

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in. 

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought. 

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit. 

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME. 

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good. 

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering. 

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it. 

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure. 

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked. 

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats. 

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it. 

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it. 

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend. 

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says. 

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone. 

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken. 

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face. 

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination. 

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts. 

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious. 

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed. 

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power. 

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot. 

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it! 

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl. 

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously, 

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered. 

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk. 

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?" 

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy. 

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that. 

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy. 

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that. 

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight. 

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face. 

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh. 

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut. 

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".  

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did. 

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED. 

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him. 

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU. 

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time. 

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now. 

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you. 

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was. 

And there you went. 

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham. 

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that. 

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end. 

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless. 

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters. 

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo, 

~Sam St. Clair

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #imagine #smut #x reader #oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader

[limpnoodles]

I'm just eating my burrito here, and scrolling at some stuff, when I just had the cutest au for a rottmnt x reader.

COFFEE SHOP AU / MOTORCYCLE AU

Now, I know what you're thinking, Motorcycle and coffee shop!? How does that work? Well my fellow friends I shall tell you how.

This post will mainly be about how you guys meet. If you want, you may ask specifically about a turtle and y/n's relationship or for a part 2 but otherwise this is focused on how you and the turtles meet.

So let's set the setting, now that we got that covered. Shall we?

So let's say you work at this little dinner downtown New York. It's nice and quaint, and you've worked there for a while now.

You honestly loved the dinner, it had a beautiful view of the sun setting along the bay, and you have become well acquainted with your more common customers.

You just had finished taking some dirty dishes to the back, now writing down a customer's order when they walked in.

Now, you knew about the Krang attack, heck everyone in New York knew about it. Yokias finally emerged from the Hidden City to help the people of New York, rebuilding the city faster than imagined. And after putting a few misteps aside, New York was grateful, and only some bystanders to voice their disgust about the creatures.

And what about heroes that saved the earth from an alien attack?

Fucking Famous.

The turtles couldn't even walk out of a store without a horde of reporters up their tails, heck even Leo was tired with all the attention.

It took a while for everyone to cool down, only most citizens asking for an autograph or selfie from the hero's. (And yes, they have their own paparazzi, what kind of person do you take me for?)

The boys were busier than ever before, chasing yokias and humans down who think they can easily overpower the new open city. Was it so hard to get a break once in awhile?

Apparently it was.

So, a simple ride around town after a long fight seemed like a good way to cool off. Just hop into a little dinner, grab some grub and hop out. Easy.

At least that's what they told themselves.

You stared wide eyed at the figures rolling in. The customer who you were taking the order of choked at seeing the fourth figure file into the small dinner, having to duck down to not hit the ceiling.

They were wearing smooth black leather jackets, a different color of their choice for highlights.

You looked toward the cashier register, hoping to have someone to help you out-

..and your coworker silently darts into the kitchen because Fuck No They Look Scary You're On Your Own Bitch.

You were sure to get them back for that later.

It was obvious that they were Yokias, even at their feeble attempt to cover it up. You side eyed them as they settled in one of the back booths, taking note of a spiky tail where the larger one sat.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten yourself.

It's fine

You started to walk over.

Not all they say on the news is true. What about that old salamander the other day? She was sweet.

You bit your lip anxiously as you pulled out your notepad. Time seemed so fast seconds ago, now it felt like every step you took was echoing though the dinner.

Yeah, but she wasn't ten feet taller than you!

One of the smaller masked figures seemed to notice you walking towards them, hushing the others.

They all seemed to get the sign as they quickly shrunk deeper into their jackets, you couldn't help but suppress a smile.

It was fine, they are just shy. Stop getting so worked up Y/N..

You scowled yourself, finally you stood before them . Whipping out your special pen, you smiled.

"And what can I get you, kind gentleman this evening?"

#rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #leonardo rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt michaelangelo #i honestly like this au where they become famous.. #anywizzle- #love yall!!! #Coffee/Motorcycle!AU

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Guzma as an expecting father! headcanons

ignore the fact I'm a day late for father's day, it's dilf! guzma time!

features: pregnancy and discussion of symptoms, a smidge of angst, and some mild references to sex

Enjoy!

Oh shit.

Well, this wasn’t part of the plan

It’s not necessarily unexpected though

Admittedly, you two had been rather lax when it came to protection

And as much as he talked up his pull-out game, Guzma found it very hard to put his money where his mouth is when he’s about to bust a fat nut

So here you are

His baby

His fucking cinnamon applin

Almost in tears as you tell him that you’re pregnant

From all the shock, he doesn’t know what to say

He doesn’t know what to feel either

His mind is a swirl of emotions

It takes him a moment (or several minutes) to fully comprehend the situation

Not great, since you’re freaking the fuck out waiting for his response

Eventually, he just gives you a big, reassuring hug and tells you that he’s here for you, and your baby too.

In reality, Guzma likes the idea of having a family with you

And you’re his boo, he’d do anything to support you, no matter what

He really really wants to be a good dad

A provider for your burgeoning family

The kind of man you deserve

So first things first – well after he takes you both out for malasadas to calm yourselves down and celebrate - he’s gotta get a job

He’ll take anything

Fast-food chef, janitorial duties, cashier, Pyukumuku thrower…

Hopefully some professional battling to get some legit earnings

Next thing, you two are moving OUT of the Shady House

And by extension Po Town

That place is not suitable for babies

You don’t stray too far though

Getting yourselves a cramped (but thankfully two-bed) apartment in Malie City

Lowkey

And by that, I mean HIGHKEY

Guzma thinks you’re hot af pregnant

Man is like 100 times more handsy

Which is wild considering how handsy he already was

But his touches are a lot gentlerand loving

Though still quite protective and possessive

My man may or may not have shed a tear when he felt that first kick

Guzma goes back and forth on whether or not to propose to you

On one hand, he loves you, and he wants to give your baby a more stable home

But on the other, he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just doing this because you’re pregnant and it’s “the right thing to do”

Plus, weddings are so stressful

And expensive!

Eventually, he decides to wait until after your baby is here to propose

After all, they’d make such a cute little flower boy/girl on the big day!

God-mon Plumeria!

You two set up the cutest little nursery for youe baby

Ideally he wanted to fill it with brand-new stuff

But that wasn’t totally feasible, so many things are second-hand

Some from when you were born!

One of the new items though, is a cutiefly teddy

It was the first thing he bought for the baby

First thing he bought from his first pay-cheque actually

Walking home tired and stressed from his first week on the job

He’s usually pretty good at dealing with your symptoms

Gives you back-rubs, holds your hair back when you’re getting sick, over-indulges your weird-cravings…

Seriously he went out at four a.m. trying to find somewhere that sold pickled lumberries so you could have them with some yogurt and peanut butter

Though considering the fact he is new to all this + he has 0 patience things can get a bit hairy sometimes

Like he is not good at handling any mood-swings

Or when baby kicks him in his sleep

One thing he does enjoy about you being pregnant is that you’ve taken to wearing his clothes a lot more

They’re big on you, so they’re perfect for your changing body

We all know how he feels about you in his clothes 👀

He keeps ultrasound pictures on him at all times

Just as a reminder of his little larva

Makes the tough days easier

He loves being the big spoon even more now

Finding great comfort and excitement in holding you and cradling your bump while he falls asleep

When baby finally comes

Yall know ya boi is gonna be right by your side

Doing his best to support you through this traumatic, demanding time

(though I can also totally see him just chilling, casually eating a sandwich while you’re pushing out a LITERAL human baby from your bits)

Once baby pops out, and you get to hold your little one

Guzma wraps his arms around both of you, gazing at the wonderful life you’ve created together

And after a moment he asks:

“So, Guzma Jr.?”

“Absolutely not!”

#guzma #guzma x reader #guzma pokemon #guzma headcanons #guzma pokemon x reader #guzma pokemon headcanons #ya boi guzma #pregnancy

[egipci]

Vertigo, 1999

(for @wincestwednesdays)

What they have in common is they're loud, and they talk too much. That's what Dad used to say. Nine out of ten hunters have no fucking idea what they’re doing. You put four of them in a room together and you get twelve tall tales and intel that’ll set you back three days. Not that he spent much time with any one of them. There was a time, back in the beginning, he'd take on a job with a guy, say, someone Bobby knew, or he'd just run into a random dude on the scene, and they'd try to crack it together, talk theories, or they'd do interviews, bad-cop-good-cop, that sort of thing, and right in the middle of it, no matter how it was going, he'd turn to that other guy and suddenly remember he hated all of them. He'd tell me about that stuff. That's why he roped me in soon as he could. He didn't like anybody else. I don’t know how he stayed friends with Pastor Jim as long as he did. There was a fight once after Jim offered to take his confession, but they got over it eventually. Sometimes I wonder what the two of them would say about your praying. I still can’t do it. I couldn’t do it the first time you died, and I can’t do it now. I try to meditate, for Lisa. She says you can think of anything or nothing at all. So I close my eyes and I think about Wyoming that one winter.

There were hunters there too, and they warned us. You were in the car, and I was with Dad in a convenience store on the edge of Indian country. We were questioning the cashier. Mostly Dad was doing the talking. It was a two-stall restroom kind of joint and he'd backed me up against the sink and put his hands under my shirt so I was still in that warm stupid daze I could never tell you about. He was asking about the missing girls, if any of them had stopped by before they'd disappeared, and these two guys who knew him from somewhere came up. Right away he couldn’t stand them. They asked what we were there for. You could tell they were really freaked. They said there was something out there. A god, maybe. They could feel its strength and nothing else. Of course Dad didn't believe them, and that was all that mattered. 

Anyway, here is the part I keep replaying: he's walking ahead of us and it’s getting dark fast. It hasn't snowed yet but it's cold enough he let me wear his jacket. You and I are about the same height, so I got my arm around your shoulder, your neck in the crook of my elbow, and I'm dragging you along, and you're squirming and being a bitch, so we're lagging way behind, and I'm saying stupid shit to make you laugh, trying to make you feel better, and you’re trying hard not to crack up. Then you elbow me in the gut and you stop walking, so I stop, and I turn to look at you. The trees are humming around us, all the way down to their roots. At least that’s the sense I had. We never found anything out there, so I never brought it up again. I never asked you. But the way you looked at me. You said my name, and you looked into my eyes then at the bottom half of my face, and when we finally set up camp you slept outside the tent. I slept with my head sticking out so you wouldn’t be alone. Something bit you first and then bit me. That night we stayed up staring at the sky. What I wouldn’t give to feel us so small again, to hear you naming the constellations.

#uhhhh #my fic #the balance of the j/d to the s/d here may be way off in the wrong direction #in which case @wincestwednesdays please ignore this <3 #shout out to John Donne once again #we get more fleas this week

[myinternetaddictworld]

Kiss It Better {P.P}

MINORS DNI 18+

This one is kinda longer than my last posts so if you’re looking for a longer read here ya go. Smut toward the end for my favorite little freaks 🤭

CW: college! peter x reader, oral sex (f receiving) body worship, multiple orgasms, possessive peter if you squint

You were never one for relationships. You figured because you always moved around so much growing up, there wasn't much of a point to getting close to anyone. You figured it would just hurt less to keep to yourself. Since graduating high school, your mom moved once again, this time to New York City. This was the biggest city you had lived in yet. Money was so tight, that rather than starting university right away, you decided to work and help your mom out as long as possible. You referred to it as a "gap" year but really you weren't sure how long this little break was gonna last. All you knew was that you needed to find a job and you had to do it fast. Luckily you found one; a cashier at a small bodega near your apartment.

The owners were nice and although the money wasn't that much, they promised you more after your first three weeks. You liked the environment and the local customers were surprisingly sweet. Most of them were nice older people usually coming to pick up their morning newspaper and maybe a lotto ticket. Your favorite customer, however, was a tall, curly-headed brunette who looked around your age. He would always come in and grab the same four items: a bacon egg and cheese bagel, a bag of barbeque Lay's, an Arizona iced tea, and a bag of M&M's. He must've been a regular for a while because your manager knew him by name; Peter. The two of you both enjoyed small talk from time to time. You even started having little inside jokes that he would shyly bring up every chance he could get.

One day, you supposed he finally got the nerve up to ask you for your number because he seemed super nervous when he did. From that day on, you two became really close friends. His aunt May even loved you, often inviting you over for dinner. You would be lying if you said the two of you hadn’t “fooled around” a bit in the months you’ve been in New York. The first time it was your idea. You proposed it after a fun night out clubbing with the boy. With the small amount of alcohol in your system, you embarrassingly mentioned how attracted to him you were as well as the few wet dreams you had about him. Peter didn't oblige so you found your partially exposed back pressed against the cold interior of the bathroom stall. It was messy—very messy but you loved every bit of it. From that point on the two of you were classic friends with benefits. It's not like the two of you fucked every chance you got, but when the both of you were in the mood and available, you always took the opportunity.

"Hey sleepy head," he said walking into your empty store.

"Hey," you grumbled out, placing some juice cartons into one of the now empty refrigerators.

"Jesus, good morning to you too," he laughed.

"Sorry, just not having the best morning," you say tossing the plastic container that held the cartons in the trash.

"Sheesh, sorry. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Don't you have work in like half an hour?" you say, looking at him.

"Please, work can wait...plus I wanna know what's wrong with my favorite person."

The comment made you smile.

"...I'll tell you later," you say. Peter frowns.

"Seriously, I'll meet you at your place when I get off," you said, looking at the cash register in front of you.

"Okay...but promise me you won't mope around all day or otherwise I will too,"

This comment makes you let out a small laugh.

"Alright, I promise Parker. Now go, before you miss your train again."

He smiles, before leaning over the counter and placing a small, chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Okay, okay I'm out the door." he says quickly grabbing his items and placing his money on the counter. With a small ding of the door alarm, Peter is gone.

You loved when Peter and you shared small domestic moments like that. Of course, he wasn't your boyfriend, but he was the closest thing you had ever had to one. When the two of you first started messing around, you were also the one who insisted on not putting a label on it; more just enjoying each other's company. He hesitantly agreed. Despite the "no label/ just friends" agreement, Peter was still one of the sweetest guys you had ever been with. Always opening doors for you, insisting on taking you to his favorite restaurants, and even buying you little gifts here and there.

The real reason you were so upset was that your mother broke the news to you that this would be your last week in New York. She had gotten laid off from her job and there was no way she could make next month's rent in time. Even with the money you were making, there was no way the two of you would be able to afford to stay. In any other case, you would be slightly disappointed but quickly get over it. In this case, you were angry. New York was the first place you felt you fit in and most of all you were nowhere near ready to lose Peter. The thought of you ate at you for the rest of your shift. You hadn’t even realized how fast time was passing. It was now 5 PM and time for you to leave. You let your manager know you were on the way out and gathered your things.

The city looked nice as you walked to Peter’s apartment. Once you arrived you knocked at the door that Peter quickly answered.

“Hey bug, May is working a little late tonight but I could order us pizza if you’re super hungry,” he said as you made your way into his apartment. He had just gotten out of the shower; you could tell because his hair was wet and his lower half dawned a bath towel.

“It’s okay, i’m not really hungry right now.” you say smiling.

“Come here,” he says walking over and pulling you into a hug. His damp hair brushed against you, making you laugh.

Despite this, you loved his hugs. You loved how he always smelled of vanilla. His hugs made you forget everything bad in the world.

“I missed you today,” he said while pulling away.

“I missed you too,” you say secretly missing his embrace.

“So how was work? Do you feel any better from this morning?” he says motioning you to follow him to the couch.

“Uhm, yeah a little,” you say awkwardly taking a seat next to him.

“You sure?”

You nod. He pats his lap urging you to lay on him. You oblige. He begins playing with your hair. You enjoy sitting in this comfortable silence with him.

“Can I have a kiss,” you say, shyly.

“Of course, Princess.”

You sit up and Peter pulls you on to his lap. He leans in and kisses you. Your stomach does cartwheels. You deepen the kiss as you wrap arms around his neck. He’s the first to break the heated kiss.

“Someone’s excited to be with me, huh?” he teases. You laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m a little excited too…” he says as he shifts beneath you. He’s hard, you can feel it through the towel.

“Wow Peter, it’s been like .2 seconds and you’re hard?”

“Hey, you’re the one sitting on my lap, how can I not get hard?” he says, leaning back. You

“Okay, okay.” you’re right, you giggle. You climb from atop of him and lay on the opposite end of the couch.

“Take me big boy,” you say jokingly. Peter crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you again. This kiss different from the first one. This one needy and desperate. It had been weeks since the two of you hooked up. You were busy with work and he was busy with school. Both of you could agree this was much needed.

The kiss soon moved from your lips to your cheeks and eventually to your neck. Peter knew your body better than anyone else you had ever been with. He quickly found the sweet spot of your neck which earned a quiet moan from you. He lightly tugged at the fabric of your shirt. You help him by grabbing the material and pulling it up before he finishes pulling it completely off. His head dips down to your chest, kissing each of your breasts and reaching back up to your lips.

"Mhm--there's just something about taking your work clothes off of you," he says, now hovering just above your face. You laugh and playfully roll your eyes.

Peter stares deeply into your eyes. His eyes fixated on your face makes you a little nervous.

Pete...is there something on my face?" you giggle

"What? No." he responds

"Then why are you staring so hard, dork," you say trying to get him to stop.

"You just looked really pretty then," he started.

"--Not that you don't look beautiful all of the time, it was just right there..." he trailed off.

"Wait," he said pushing himself off of you.

"Pete~~" you whine, seeing him walk out of view to presumably get something.

"Stay in that position," you hear him yell from his bedroom. He shortly returns with his prized film camera.

He holds the camera up and quickly takes a photo.

"Peter, I wasn't ready for that," you continue to whine.

"Yes, you were." he says walking toward you to show you the picture. The picture was actually beautiful. It was you, laying on Peter's couch with your back slightly arched. Your hair messily framed your face and the slight sunset lit one side of your face.

You blush as Peter continues to hold the camera in front of you. This must be how he sees me all the time? you think. The thought lingers in your head for a bit.

"So, you like the picture then? You keep blankly staring at it," he laughs.

"Yes, Peter. I love the picture," you smile.

"...and I love you," he says placing the camera down and looking at you.

Once you had fully processed what he had said, your brain went into panic mode. Peter just told you that for the first time. You sat there with wide eyes and your mouth agape.

"I know we agreed on no 'boyfriend or girlfriend lables' and no 'I love yous' but I felt like saying it and have for a while so I figured I say it. You don't have to say it back or even feel it but I just thought you should know..." he trailed off, turning his eyes to his feet.

You felt your eyes begin to well with tears.

"I'm sorry if I made it awkward, it's just I'm not so used to the whole 'friends with benefits' thing and I really like you. That's why I said you didn't have to say it back. We can keep whatever relationship--or non-relationship we have going on." he continued.

By this point, tears were pouring out of your eyes. Peter finally took the time to focus his attention from the floor back up to you.

"Oh my god, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm so sorry--ugh please don't cry. Uh-- I didn't mean it!" he says, quickly leaning down to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"You didn't mean it?!" you say, now almost sobbing.

"No I did mean it, I just don't want you to cry because I said it." he said, his voice wavering. His words felt rushed, apologetic.

"Peter, I'm not crying because you said it!" you say, sitting up and pushing him slightly away from you.

"You're not?" he says, immediately taking a seat right next to you.

Your hands came up to your face to catch the continually falling tears.

"No," you sniffle out.

"Do you secretly hate me?" he said.

"What?! Peter, of course not!" you say slightly raising your voice.

"Then why are you crying?" he says, moving your hands from your face and replacing them with his own.

"I'm leaving," you say, barely above a whisper.

"Huh? Like right now?" he says, his eyes widening.

"No, like New York." you say, avoiding eye contact.

Peter's lip twitches slightly.

"Funny joke." he says. You feel his eyes burning a hole into you.

"I'm not kidding. Mom's been laid off and rent is due in a week. She's already drawing up all the moving papers." you say, averting your eyes at his. Peter sits there in silence.

You continue to stare at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

"This is not how I saw this playing out," he said finally breaking the silence. Your glance softens as you see his lip began to slightly quiver.

"Maybe May and I could help, just for the next few months--"

"Peter, we both know I can't accept your money."

"Yes, you could! I want you to have it."

You shake your head.

"Please--" he whispered out.

The two of you sat there, in silence again.

"Guess what though?" you say reaching your hands up to the sides of his face.

"What?" he says disappointedly.

"...I love you too, Peter Benjamin Parker." Peter's lips bust into a small smile.

"You're gonna be really hard to forget, you know that?"

You lightly gasp.

"Well, I would hope you wouldn't forget me."

"Forgetting feels easier than missing you every day. You sigh. Your body can’t produce anymore tears but your eyes still burn.

“You don’t have to miss me just yet…I’m still here till next Friday… I mean we can still enjoy each other’s company till I leave,” you say, your voice inflecting a more of a question than a statement.

“Yeah, I know.” he says placing his hands over yours.

Peter cocks his eyebrow.

“Are you seriously still trying to fuck after this depressing ass news?”

You laugh, hard. The laugh almost made you forget the pain you were feeling prior.

“Would you kill me if I was?” you say.

“No, it would just leave me with a bunch of unanswered questions and trauma,” he joked.

“What?” you say, giggling.

“I just mean…” he hesitates. He clears his throat so his words come out more serious.

“If you weren’t leaving, would all this still be just fun between us? Like would we just go back to being ‘friends with benefits’?”

You sigh.

“Peter…I knew I would dread this day if it came.”

His kissed his teeth.

“So the answer would be Yes? Got it, in your world apparently ‘friends with benefits’ say I love you to each other.

“Stop, okay!” you begin.

“I never said anything. Peter, I really do love you. I’m in love with you. If I were staying, I’d be attached to you at the hip. Hell, you’d be begging me to leave you alone,” you say. The earns a small chuckle from the man.

“I would like that—or let me rephrase. Would’ve have liked that very much.” he says, pulling your hands away from his face and interlocking them with his.

“Me too.” you say staring at him fondly.

“Who says we can’t make long distance work?”

“Peter we don’t even know where we’re moving to yet—plus…long distance never works. You’re gonna be so busy with school and I’m probably gonna find another job. We’ll eventually grow apart and start resenting each other.”

“Not if you go into it with that attitude. I’m willing to do what it takes.” he says.

You think for a moment.

“I say we try it and if we hate, we call it off. Or I come and see you every break I have. It’s at least worth a shot, right?” he says, his eyes glistening with hope.

Peter has always been an optimist. This quality of his shined even on the darkest days.

“Okay.”

“Yeah? Okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay as in we’re doing this whole boyfriend-girlfriend situation?”

“Yes Peter!” you laugh.

“Really? Like for real? he says, confirming one more time.

“Oh my god, Peter you’re my boyfriend.” you say.

His eyes light up. He quickly grabs your face and peppers kisses on your lips and both your cheeks.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says, in between pecks.

“For what?” you say blushing.

“For…saying you’ll be mine.

He finishes with chaste kiss on your lips.

“Now that we’ve sealed the deal… don’t you think it’s only fair to commemorate this moment?” he says suggestively.

“Now who’s just trying to fuck?” you laugh.

“Hey, you were trying to do it way before we agreed you were my girlfriend,” he stated

“Touché…” you giggle.

“Now, if you’ll let me,” he says, pushing your back onto the couch. His lips joined with yours as he climbed on top of you. Your arms reached around his neck, to once again deepen the kiss. Peter’s hands began to wander your torso before finding their way up to your chest.

“Mhm— take this off baby…please,” he said reaching his hands underneath you to help unclasp your bra. He had gone through this motion so many times before that he could basically do it with one hand. He slowly pryed the piece of fabric off of you, revealing your bare chest.

“God, I will never get tired of seeing these,” he said dipping his head down and kissing the tops of each one. Your fingers found themselves in the back of his hair, tugging; urging him to go lower.

“I know, I know baby. I can smell how wet you are. Just let me appreciate you a little more. Show you, you’re mine.” he let out softly before finally placing his mouth around one of your now sensitive nipples. You gave an airy moan. Peter began alternating between kissing and sucking each one, gaging your reactions to each action. His hands continued wandering as he made his way to the zipper of your jeans. He slowly unzipped them and slid his hand in.

“God, baby your panties are soaked,” he groaned out.

“My pretty girl, you’re so good to me.” he said slightly menacingly.

He continued his work on your chest while slowly lightly rubbing his fingers up and down your clothed slit.

The grip you had on his hair was only tightening as he worked his magic.

With one small ‘pop’ he came up from your chest and kissed your lips.

“I wanna fuck you so good right now that you still remember it when you leave,” he says, looking down at you. You smile, once again bringing your lips up to his.

“Mm— let’s get you out of these too,” he says breathing into the kiss. His hands pull your jeans off from under you, tossing them onto the floor. Your panties and Peter’s towel are quick to follow.

Peter pushes himself down, placing small kisses on down stomach. He stops when he finally reaches your wet heat. He places one last light kiss on it before singling out the tiny bunch of nerves that lay right at the top. His tongue wastes no time moving in ways that make your head spin. Peter takes his time with this. All the sexual encounters you two have shared have usually been rushed and messy. It wasn’t supposed to be pretty. But not tonight, tonight Peter was giving you a show. The lewd noises you were make probably made it sound like you were giving him one too.

He alternated between softly sucking it and rubbing his tongue across it with just the right amount of pressure. His eyes never left yours. His hands, of course, continued the work on your chest that his mouth was once doing. His mouth dropped a little, as his tongue found its way in and out of your opening. You felt a ball form in your stomach. You began clenching every time his mouth found a new pleasurable spot. He knew you were close and was determined to get you there. He dug his head deeper into your heat, maintaining the motions from earlier. The new pressure was enough to send you over the edge. Your legs began to clench around his head, earning a deep moan from him.

“Shit Peter—” you cried as you rode out your orgasm. Peter’s head remained in between your legs as he tried to bring you to another orgasm.

“Ah—s-so sensitive Pete,” you whine out. Your hands tug on his hair. With one long lick, Peter pulls his mouth off of you, leaving a long line of saliva dripping as he pulls up.

“Oh my god, Pete.” you say trying to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he laughs.

You nod.

“I wanna return the favor…” you say trying to push yourself up.

“Later,” he said pushing you back down.

You furrowed your brow.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, I just wanna take care of you right now.” he says, climbing atop of you again.

You smile, pulling him into another kiss.

“I also don’t know how long I could last if you went down on me right now,” he laughs. He lightly grinds against your leg, most likely to remind you of his still prevalent boner.

“I want you to get off too,” you say softly.

“Yeah?” he smirks. Your hand finds it’s way to his member, slowly stroking it up and down. Peter groans into your ear.

“Fuck baby,”

“Cmon, fuck me Peter…please,”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he laughs.

——————————————————————

Heyooo i’ve been gone a minuet but i just started my second year of college and things are getting kinda hectic lmao. Hope this one isn’t that bad, i may write a second part possible with more sexy time. Also if you couldn’t tell i def have a thing for Peter fresh out of the shower lmao. Let me know what you think!! <3 follow for more; requests are open!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter imagine #peter 3 #tasm peter x you #tasm!peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker smut

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I've been listless for too long, wasting my life by following the path of least resistance, but I've decided to take initiative and go back to school to get a degree that isn't worth less than the cardstock it's printed on.

Math was my passion growing up. It was fun and exciting to me, like solving a puzzle, and I wanted to be an unspecified brand of Scientist™ someday; my mom wanted me to be a mechanical engineer like my grampa. She decided my natural aptitude for math wasn't fast enough for her liking, so she skipped me ahead from algebra straight to AP calculus without geometry or trigonometry. I was completely out of my element, miles behind every other student, so she made me take two year-long homeschool courses in one month to help me catch up before I flunked out. It didn't help, it just made my existing course load even harder. I was burned out and I barely coasted by with a C- and a newfound hatred of math.

I never managed to grok calculus, and promptly forgot everything about it the second I graduated. When I learned that the major my mom wanted me to take in college would require more calculus and physics, I said fuck that and settled for something easy. I bounced around for my first two years, got my AA, and finally chose to pursue English (the greatest mistake of my life) because I had vague ideas of becoming an author, but my university had a shitty English department that didn't teach me anything. All they offered were glorified high school courses, "read a book, write an essay, take a multiple choice test, repeat. Congratulations you're an English major." I never learned grammar or style, I still don't know how to punctuate certain clauses, I completely wasted my final two years taking the most bare bones credits I needed to get a degree with no real goal after graduating. I went to college because it was expected of me, but my plan evaporated in high school because my mom pushed me too hard and even though I passed all my classes I feel like I failed miserably.

I want to go back. I want to retake the high school math I missed in my own time then reapply to my alma mater for another bachelor's program. I want to go into astronomy/astrophysics because all the science classes I took as electives in school were as fun and exciting as I'd hoped they would be, and I remembered that I loved to learn. I want to go back and try again with a real goal this time, to major in astrophysics so I could get a job, a career, doing what I'm good at and enjoy. It's not going to be easy, but I've been taking it easy my entire adult life and I'm trapped in my home town working as a cashier at a side-of-the-highway tourist trap motel at 26. I need to apply myself. I need to live up to the potential I had in high school. I need to go to the moon in this d'cade and do the otha things, not because they are easy, but because they are hahd!

Astronomy and earth/space science were my favorite classes in college, but I never took any beyond the 1000 level, and the suggested semester plan for a BS in astrophysics requires advanced 3000 and 4000 level calc, physics, mechanics, quantum mechanics, electromagnetism, optics, stats, and differential equations to name a few, so I have my work cut out for me. I need to buy some textbooks this summer and relearn prerequisite math before I can even hope to jump into this field. I'm not gonna enjoy it, it's not gonna be fun and exciting all the way, I'm gonna wanna give up, but I need to prove that I'm capable. I need to push myself to do what I don't want to do. I don't need to be a savant, I just need to pass. Cs get degrees. My little sisters are in college now, and both of them are taking a relaxed schedule, part time credits, only a couple classes per semester, however long it takes. The full astrophysics major requires 120 credits, but only 62 are critical, the other 58 are gen ed, and I already have my BA so I can skip those. 62 credits is 2 years of full time work (year and a half if I take a summer semester, though that's four months of work in half the time, so I'd once again risk burnout), but I could bang it out as a part-timer in 3 or 4 years. Hell, if I went back full time I could take a bunch of fun gen ed classes for a minor, or even a double major, but I'm getting WAY ahead of myself.

Start small.

I need to brush up on

Algebra 1

Geometry

Algebra 2

Trigonometry/Pre-Calc

Calculus

It's too late to apply for fall semester this year, and I wouldn't want to anyway because 5 high school math classes are a lot to get through in 3 months. They don't allow spring applications either, so the earliest I could start is fall 2024, 10 years after I started college in the first place. That gives me over a year to master the maths I missed. That's plenty of time! I'm fairly competent in algebra and geometry, so I'd only need to relearn trig and calc.

This is doable.

It's never too late to start over.

#math #science #astronomy #astrophysics #college #university #my plan #my life #goals #my goals #calculus #maths #square one

[the-anxious-stargazer]

Late For Movie Night || Kate Bishop

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Summary: With Kate's night being disrupted because of a robbery, she went to deal with it but at the cost of being late to see her girlfriend. What happens when an angry reader waits for her at home?

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: Kate being cute please give me season 2 already Kevin Feige!

[Masterlist]

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Kate begged for a better time for this robbery to happen out of all times. As much as she loves saving the day, this was not it. She's had several instances of her plans being postponed because she saved the day, her precious plans are getting ruined at the cost of her heroism.

Specifically her movie night with her girlfriend.

The black-haired woman had been doing it more frequently as much to her displeasure and her girlfriend has been affected by her tardiness. Luckily enough, Y/N was incredibly patient but she has seen her lose it in some cases. It's one of the last things she wants to see. All she wanted was to buy the food they needed and come back early. So pushing her thoughts aside and readied her body for the actions she was about to do. Kate then enters the familiar local grocery that was being robbed by some dudes wearing ski-mask and all-black clothing. She didn't have time to throw immature comments their way and annoy the heck out of them. The last thing she needed is to be too talkative and make this problem go longer.

"I'm going to say this once, but put the money and stolen goods back and leave the store," Kate warns the five men who stared at her, and two chuckled.

"Look what we have here fellas, a hero! Fuck off, kid." The biggest guy told her off but knowing Kate Bishop, she's too stubborn to do so.

After not doing so, the guy who was now supposed to be the leader gestured to his friend and the other guy marched forward to attack Kate. She immediately caught a glimpse of the brass knuckles that he wore on his left hand and it was easy to say that this was his dominant hand. The archer didn't have her signature bow so she has to handle this with some old fashion hand-in-hand combat and to her luck she's had the training for that. Following her words, the archer then caught his fist before she went to twist his hand after he attempted to lay a punch on her and the guy screamed in pain. His friends then went to help him while the last two stayed to continue grabbing the money. Kate has been doing this for a while that she's almost predicted their attacks, but she still misses some and gets herself hurt from them. But alas, the fight dies down and they run away with the money left behind and the store a bit damaged from the fight. Thankfully, there were at least two aisles that were disarranged, but many items were scattered to the ground. She would have figured that Clint would be surprised at her barely joking around. The raven-haired woman takes a deep breath after the scene and apologizes to the cashier who she knows is also the owner of the shop.

"Please, you've saved my store from being robbed. Don't be sorry." Mr. Sanchez lets her know. She'd been a common face to his store and offered some sandwiches, "Take these, Kate. It's all I can offer for now and I know these are your favorites." He continues with an appreciative smile.

"No need for money, Mr. Shanchez. I'm just glad I'm able to help around." Kate reassures and the man's smile couldn't get any wider.

"You got a good heart, missy. Go on now, I'm sure you still got places to be." He pats her shoulder and with a curt nod she rushes out to go back to her apartment.

Kate had run as fast as she could with a bag filled with sandwiches. She checks her phone on the other hand for the time and would franticly speed up whenever the time moves by 1 minute forward. If the people of New York cared enough, they would probably think that the archer was a robber. Ten minutes of sprinting had her reaching the front door of the apartment complex and being greeted by the owner of the pizza place. They usually order from them when it's movie night or when Lucky won't eat his food that wasn't pizza and Joe is always happy to oblige.

"Miss Bishop, great timing. Here are the pizzas you ordered!" Joe, the head chef, hands out 3 boxes with a proud smile on his face.

"Thank you so much, Joe. Have a good night!" She sends her thanks.

Rushing to her apartment door, she let out a sigh of relief when she made it by being seventeen minutes late. Kate has arrived way later before, but this was a first. And the best part was she wasn't too injured or anything. Maybe just a small cut on her bottom lip. The archer has had worse before, but the perks of having a girlfriend who's studying nursing are kind of help though she can't be saved from the lectures that follow. Taking a deep breath, Kate fishes out her copy of the front door key from her pocket and opened it as quietly as she could. With the boxes of pizza and the said bag of sandwiches being balanced in one hand while the other opens the door, the woman enters her apartment. Sadly for her favor, the tv could be heard and Lucky has instantly welcomed her with a bark. Kate closes the door as stealth as she could and reluctantly she turns around to face her girlfriend who had sat by the couch with a visible frown present on her face.

'Uh oh...' Kate thought to herself.

"Hi, baby!" The archer greets her only to be replied with and dissatisfied nod and hum.

"I got pizza and sandwiches for us." Highlighting the things she held with one hand before she walks close to the dining table to settle them there.

The apartment had been fixed and had new furniture ever since it got burnt down by the Tracksuit Mafia. Kate loved the place too much and settling at her family home didn't feel the same way for her so she was happy that there was still enough money for her to rebuild the place. The living room had been a new addition and the kitchen looks a hundred times better than how it was when Kate was still living alone. She also has to thank Y/N's taste for the decorations.

"I know the wings are missing, but the place you craved for was close so that's why I took a bit longer." Kate tries to reason out.

But nothing makes Y/N budge out of her pursed lips. Knowing her girlfriend enough would tell her that this was the exact thing she didn't want to reach out here tonight. In defeat, Kate puts down her shoulders and finally admits, "There was a robbery at Mr. Sanchez's grocery. I saved him and the shop." She says.

"Seventeen minutes." Her girlfriend voices out and she slightly winces at the mention of how late she had arrived.

That kind of voice sometimes scares people and patients when they're being too entitled to her, even Kate herself is scared when she dictates her full name, almost like her mother when her patience is lost but Eleanor was way more different. Waiting for her to walk out, Kate is surprised when a giggle was heard from the love of her life and she watches as her eyes crinkle. The change of expression left her stunned while her girlfriend stood up from the comfort of their couch. She had never been this fazed since meeting Yelena. Y/N then goes to where she stood and examines the cut on her lip with a hum. She goes to planting a careful peck. The archer realizes that she had been playing with her all along and couldn't help but pout.

"It's a new record and I'm happy that you made the effort to come early. Now sit and let me clean that up." Y/N teases her with a kiss on her cheek and referred to her injury.

Kate wastes no time following her instruction and sat by the couch with her dog following her from behind. Observing what was playing on the screen, The Good Place had been playing. Y/N had been talking about it lately and Kate knew she wanted to watch it together. That is how it has always been for them, they binge a series or movie together. Her girlfriend comes back with a familiar red box from the bathroom and also the food she had brought for them. With the number of times, she has tidied up her wounds, keeping the medkit stocked was a must at their place.

"Hm not too bad, but still needs an ointment." Her girlfriend mentions while studying her lip. She has seen worse scars before and thankfully they weren't Kate's. Just the thought of her having those kinds makes her shiver.

"Did Mr. Sanchez give you these sandwiches?" Y/N asks to which the raven-haired girl bobs her head as a response.

"You love his ham sandwich too much, love." She comments while grabbing the ointment she needed. Kate always liked how delicate she is when she's in nurse mode and that focused look she wears with it. After applying the ointment to her cut, she pecks her nose and offers a soft smile.

"All done!" Kate giggles at her girlfriend's cuteness.

"Thank you, baby. You're always too good to me."

"Hey, you always deserve it even if you're kicking butts and being late all the time. You know that I get it. I don't always do the saving part your way but I'm the one who patches things up." Y/N reassures her.

"I know, but I'm aware that being late affects you too. You sometimes have to stay up just to wait up for me to come home when you should be sleeping for your morning shift." And Kate only worried about her well-being more than her own. She knew that her lover chose to do so because she cares a lot about her, but she hates the idea of being a burden when she already has more to worry about,

"Well, I'd rather be sleepy in the ER because even if I don't wait up for you I won't be able to sleep," Y/N tells her with her hand being placed on her cheek.

Kate couldn't help herself from leaning to her touch.

"Being a hero means a lot to you and you still have a long way to go. Who knows, maybe you'll get live with a new group of the Avengers!"

The archer then sincerely smiles at the dream. Kate still has a long way to go from all the hero stuff and she's still at the beginning of it all. Her idol is mentoring her and invites her to spend the holidays at his home, her hero life is going well, college is college, and she has an awesome loving girlfriend to support her for whatever lies ahead. Even if life has been hard for her for a while ever since her mom got arrested Kate's still happy about what her life has become. Just the love Y/N gives let's her remember her dad. She just can't wait for what comes next.

"What can I say, I'm a lucky gal dating the sexiest future surgeon in the world." Kate brags to which she giggles.

"Alright Lady Arrow, drop the arrogance vibe, and let's watch the show." Y/N jokes knowing that the archer would cringe at the mention of the title she had thought of back then.

"Spare me from the embarrassing names, baby." All she could do was laugh before kissing her cheek again and opening a box of pizza after.

"Never. They are too funny to forget, Kate."

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#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop #hawkeye #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #nena's written work #i miss her so much pls give me a second season already