#rent lighting equipment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

Note

The other day I was reading about the “mail-order brides” during the Gold Fever/Gold Rush in USA. Men ordered/purchased a wife via mail, and one of the many reasons some of them did that was because of loneliness, and I couldn’t help but think “yep, that would be König”. Just imagine him living alone in his farm or ranch, he only goes to town once a month to buy essential supplies, hides his face, and barely socializes with folks. But deep inside he is just a lonely man who desires a family, and a woman to call his (and one who can help him with his… needs) But he is socially inept, so he takes the easy route and orders himself a wife, that way he doesn’t have to bother with interacting with other people and gets himself a pretty wife

Oh my god 💞

König wanting to wed and bed her the minute she arrives by train... She thought he would court her for a while before they marry, she thought they would do this decently, that they would get to know each other first, she’d rent an apartment from the small town and then decide if she wanted to live with him…

But he says everything’s settled, he already took care of everything, they’re getting married today and spend their wedding night in the saloon before leaving for his settlement tomorrow.

She’s too bewildered to even speak, so it's no wonder she gets herded to the altar right away, a pretty, meek little bride is just what König ordered! Gets wed to this giant hulking gold digger while still wearing her traveling clothes, the priest only looks drunk and bored as she peeps her vows. The man she's now wed to looks down at her with unbridled affection and curiosity, but soon enough, she catches him eyeing her waistline, her bust, the corset she wears feeling tighter still by his indecent stare.

He's far from a gentleman, and dresses like a weather-worn cowboy, and she suspected as much from the way he wrote and how unpolished his handwriting was. But at least he seems kind. If anything, he's smitten that she’s not some old hag who deceived him by claiming to be an unmarried young lady, that she is everything and more he wished for based on the few letters they exchanged.

The wedding is over in a few minutes, and there’s no coffee and cake, no party under some big tree, no relatives or friends to congratulate her on her wedding day. There’s only this huge, intimidating man who looks at her like she just dropped down from heavens, his eyes slowly sparking aflame with both softness and lust.

He takes her to the saloon to eat, and then she finds herself in a greasy little room upstairs, changing into her white nightgown, getting ready to sleep and only sleep, but her nightmare of a day is not over yet. Her hand flies over her mouth, she nearly screams as she turns around and finds this horrible man of lowly European descent thoroughly naked behind her.

She’s in so much trouble, that much was certain from the minute he saw this man, but seeing his… equipment in the dim candle light of the old saloon is too much after everything she's gone through. She's verily about to faint.

It’s just her luck to dream of adventures and a happy, exciting new life and then find herself thrown into the arms of some barbaric, foreign giant... He said he’s looking for a companion in life and hinted at being a little lonely, but men who wish to court a lady don’t do it like this: by dragging them to the altar and then presenting their cocks to them before even two hours have passed!

The rowdy noise of cancan downstairs is a filthy backdrop to seeing a naked man for the first time in her life, and she never knew male parts could be so... big. Or jumpy. Or leaky... This man is clearly serious about this commitment, and thinks there’s no need to get to know each other, she’s his wife now and they need to consummate the marriage right away.

He’s breathing heavily while grabbing that weeping weapon in his fist, telling her she’s more beautiful than he ever even imagined. He pleasures himself slowly while watching her try to cover herself in her thin, faintly translucent gown, and she still can't find any words – the man is behaving like a scoundrel or a highwayman, not at all like the sharp dressed, eloquent gentlemen she's grown used to in the city. The slick sounds of lewd fapping are accompanied by moans of how she’s the answer to all his prayers, and her hair stands on end, she feels like she’s walking on tar here in the distant frontier with nothing but greedy men and drunken brothel keepers around her, now face to face with a giant, throbbing cock out of all things...

She coldly orders him to sleep on the floor while she takes the bed – she’s not letting this nasty, hairy beast near her anytime soon, not when she still has her wits about her. Defeated when she won’t let him “consummate their love” tonight, the man withdraws to sleep on the floor with a sullen groan and a long sigh.

She never sleeps a wink that night in fear of finding him by her side, groping his way through her dress, but to her surprise this man only snores on the floor as if he's used to sleeping there.

Civilization is far away when he leads her to his shack the next day and shows her the first small specks of gold he has found, apologizing for the state of his abode so unkempt and unclean. She has to give it to him that he's indeed kind and doesn’t want to make her suffer unduly, because the table and the bench are wiped in a hurry before she sits down, as if she’s a queen visiting a humble subject. He makes her a bath next to the fire and washes in the water after her, giving her flirty, promising smiles throughout the whole splashy ordeal.

Before long, the giant cock is presented to her again as the man excitedly waits for permission to take her, telling her he has never seen anything like her, that she makes his heart run wild.

The only thing running wild in her sour opinion is his cock, bouncing up and down from the need to be inside her, nearly leaking seed on the floor she suspects she has to wash and scrub tomorrow anyhow as his wife. Evening after evening, she rejects his advances, but after a week or two, her will breaks.

She tells herself it’s only out of pity that she lets him finally crawl over her and lift her gown, that it’s only to stop the man from spiraling into madness that she allows him to test how nicely that thick, leaky cock glides through her folds.

“You’re wet, Sonnenschein,” he pants with happy excitement when she notices her swollen, sloppy state, then plunges his cock deep into his wet little prize with a filthy moan. He tells her she’s tight and hot, and takes her like she’s some kind of an angelic whore, falls panting all over her breasts when he’s sated and done, says that she’s his salvation and that he’ll do anything to make her feel at home here.

She feels exactly like a desperate mail order bride, lured here with the promise of a good life and gold, but when she starts to wait for him to come home instead of dreading the end of the day, that's when her hell truly begins.

It just won't do to start wanting him, to trick her heart to be content with whatever this is. To enjoy his "love" would be even more shameful than anything else so far. The truth of the matter is that she's tormented by a lustful, wild man who takes her on her knees or on her stomach like an animal while moaning about how tight she is, how soft she is, how he can’t concentrate at work because of her.

But when he groans that he loves her just before he cums, she feels a distant sting near her heart, a burst of a small bonfire somewhere in her gut from his words. Far from romantic, but so authentic and pure they’re ripped out of him with a pathetic, cry-like moan.

And just when her heart is about to turn and grow full with softness, he barges in and takes her standing, needy after work, deciding that she looks far too alluring while stirring the stew over the fire. His sunshine of a wife waiting for him with warm food and a soft little cunt, it's exactly like it was always meant to be in his dreams... He’s kind and attentive, but doesn’t know a thing about ladies and that they’re not supposed to be taken by the fire like this, but the dramatic pout on her lips turns into a helpless grimace before this animal has given her three full thrusts.

And it’s only by accident, she tells herself, that it happens. It’s only a coincidence that she finds herself short of breath and shivering, then crying with pleasure from the way his cock sails inside her, hasty and needy as if she’s nothing but a momentary relief for this man.

But she knows she’s far from that. He always stays after the hurried lovemaking – if you could call it that – swallows and tells her things that are supposed to be sweet, perhaps. He whispers loving nonsense in her ear with a stupid, quivering voice, tells her that she’s so tight he’s about to lose his mind. That she brightens up his life and makes this shack a home, a palace, even. That he wants to give her children and grow old together.

She prays the heavens to save her from such a future, but when she accidentally comes with his cock inside her, the man breaks down entirely. Repeats the awful, pathetic “I love you” until he comes, too, and sounds like a man who's getting his sould ripped apart from his bones. It’s sinful lunacy what he’s doing to her in that shack, and dares to sprinkle it with love out of all things, and she doesn’t know if she hates him, or if she loves him too.

Annulling this marriage is nearly impossible, and the sooner he gets her pregnant, the sooner she’s even more trapped, just like the poor rabbits this man lures into the snares placed around the shack. He spends every little speck of gold to buy her silks, satins and gowns, proper woolen scarves and soft little leather shoes, gives her a gentle kiss every morning before he leaves to wash gold. Every evening after meal, he praises her cooking skills and then takes her on the creaking old bed like she's a common whore. The silly, girlish dreams of being whisked away by a mysterious, romantic gentleman are somewhere far away when this giant spills his seed inside her with a thick, arduous groan, then proceeds to cover her in kisses too sweaty and hot.

“I know you don’t love me,” he whispers between the one-sided sucking and nibbling that’s about to make her cry. “But I will make you happy... I swear it, on my life.”

She can only stare at the ceiling, filled with the dancing flames of the fire as he falls asleep with his cock still inside her, the soft snore on her breasts both happy and sad.

#könig x you #könig smut #könig x reader #mail order bride #gold rush au #könig angst

982 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months

Text

The hot tub | Rafe Cameron x Reader

Advent calendar day three: Ski trip

Summary: Rafe invites you to spend the week with his family at their cabin in Aspen. Things may happen when you get in the hot tub after a long day going down the slopes

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p + v, slight choking, semi-public (outside), impact play (spanking once)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

As expected, the Cameron’s cabin in Aspen was breath-takingly beautiful. The walls of the living area were made of round wood, making it seem like you were living inside a tree…with a luxury decor. There were large windows, massive couches, cherry-wood tables, and a classic bear skin in front of the large fireplace.

You felt like you were standing in a holiday Hallmark movie.

‘’How many properties does your parents own?’’ You brushed your hand over the plush throw at the end of your and Rafe’s bed, smiling at how soft it felt. ‘’Don’t they have a house in the Bahamas?’’

‘’A lot,’’ Rafe replied while putting away some things in the closet. ‘’I lost count, honestly. My dad collects estates and Rose decorates them, it’s their thing,’’ he explained. ‘’I rent the ones we are not using...except the Bahamas house. We keep that one for family only.’’

You nodded, secretly wishing your parents were that rich. You could get used to vacationing in the mountains during winter break. It’s a weather contrast compared to South Carolina.

‘’Do you come here often? Have you mastered a winter sports during your lavish vacations?’’

Rafe chuckled, closing the door of the large closet. ‘’I can’t ski, if that’s what you’re asking me. Or skate. Ice skating is Sarah’s thing.’’ He grabbed his toiletry bag from the suitcase and placed it in the en-suite bathroom next to yours. ‘’My dad forced me to take snowboarding lessons since I was a kid, but I was better at flirting with girls at the ski resort.’’

Shaking your head, you laughed quietly. ‘’What am I not surprised?’’

After everyone had unpacked, you bundled in your winter layers and headed down to the ski resort for some winter activities. You and Rafe rented equipment to go down the slopes while Sarah and Wheezie went to the skating rink.

The afternoon was spent mostly falling on your ass and watching Rafe showing off. He was no professional, but you were impressed as you watched him do stunts — something you could never see yourself doing.

When the sky started to go dark, you returned to the cabin to warm up and eat dinner. Rose’s cooking skills pleasantly took you by surprise, not expecting her to be much of a chef since she and Ward had a lot of money, but she made a mean baked mac’n cheese.

‘’Are you sure?’’ you said when Rafe suggested you try the hot tub.

You had never used a hot tub in the winter — with actual snow around. It sounded cold, but Rafe assured you the warm water would keep you warm…or else he would.

The sky was fully dark outside and snow was falling at a slow pace, creating a beautiful picture as you stepped out in your bra and underwear. When you packed for a trip to Aspen, you didn’t think you would need a bikini. Now you were regretting not bringing one.

While the warm water sounded pleasant, you couldn’t help but think about how the chlorine of the hot tub will ruin your nice bra, so Rafe came up with a solution.

‘’Just take it off.’’

‘’I’m not gonna get naked in the hot tub,’’ you replied, shooting your boyfriend a glare as steam rose from the tub into the cool air. ‘’What if your family comes outside and wants to join?’’

‘’I’d rather they don’t. The sight of you in that bra and panties got me so hard,’’ Rafe said, his hand wandering up your thigh.

You glanced down and through the bubbles of the underwater jets, catching the outline of his cock through his boxers, strained against the material. A light flush covered your cheeks, matching the color of your bra.

‘’But if you’re that worried about anyone coming,’’ he continued, taking your hand and helping you step in. ‘’My dad strained his back when skiing so Rose is taking care of him. Sarah is probably trying to contact her boyfriend who was not invited on the trip, and as for Wheezie…I don’t know. She’s in her room, reading or watching a movie.’’

You sat on the edge and raised your gaze, eyeing the sliding doors.

‘’No one is gonna come out here,’’ Rafe promised, reading your persistent worry. ‘’Except maybe a bear.’’

A new fear was unlocked. You turned to the other side and looked over the deck and into the dark forest. ‘’A bear?!’’

Rafe grinned, messing with you. ‘’I’m joking. There’s no bears here at this time of the year. They’re hibernating.’’ He hooked a finger underneath the delicate band of your panties, holding back from taking them off with his mouth. ‘’So…will it be with or without the panties?’’

Fuck it.

You removed both items and let Rafe pull you in the water, the ripples from the jets causing sparks to tingle up your spine as they hit your bare cunt. It felt like using a nice shower head directly on your clit, but less strong. The pleasure was short-lived as Rafe settled you on his lap in a straddling way, a groan leaving his throat when your ass came in contact with his stiff cock.

You bit back a giggle and loosely slid your arms around his neck. He was so beautiful.

‘’That wasn’t so difficult, wasn’t it?’’ Rafe asked, his hands sliding over your thighs and up your sides, making you feel a bit exposed.

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his well-defined shoulders and chest, appreciating the time he had been spending with Topper and Kelce at the gym. They were always ruining your and Rafe’s plans, but those gym sessions gave him a body you wanted to bite into.

You lowered your mouth to his, slowly kissing as the water moved around your bodies. The cold air had caused your nipples to peak, not yet submerged in the warm water. A shiver ran through you and, as if he had read your mind, Rafe’s hands moved to your breasts and began to toy with them. You sighed at the touch and ground your hips against his, relishing the feeling of his hard cock through his boxers as it rubbed against your clit just right.

‘’I need you. Now,’’ you urged, breaking the kiss and reaching under the water to pull at Rafe's only piece of clothing, your earlier worries about someone catching you naked leaving your desire clouded mind.

Rafe nodded and pushed you off him, which left you confused. You opened your mouth to ask why he had pushed you off, but he motioned for you to turn around and grab the edge of the tub. A moan threatened to slip, realizing what he was doing. He was going to take you from behind.

You heard the water swish as he moved behind you, and parted your legs so everything was exposed to his view.

‘’That ass is so perfect,’’ Rafe groaned, giving it a hard smack, eliciting a pained squeak from you, before lining himself at your entrance, a mischievous smirk spreading on his face as he pushed the tip in — only the tip. ‘’Is that what you want, baby?’’ His tone was teasing, playing with you. ‘’No, that’s not enough, uh?’’

You whined, pushing back against him. ‘’Please, Rafe, don’t tease.’’

Giving in to your demand, he grabbed your hips and slowly pushed until he was all in, feeling your tight walls squeeze him. He moaned at the sensation, giving you a few seconds before starting to pull out until only his tip was inside you and slowly pushing himself into you again, doing this a few times.

‘’Rafe,’’ you warned again, your core starting to ache, just wanting to be fucked senseless.

Then, his thrusts were hard and fast as you gripped the edge of the hot tub, water splashing over the edge from the movements. You were holding back your cries, trying to be quiet, but the pleasure was too intense for you to remember.

Rafe molded his front to your back as he kept pounding into you, kissing your shoulder as his hand was coming around your neck. ‘’You like this, baby? You like when I fuck your tight and pretty pussy?’’

You moaned louder, forgetting about the other Camerons inside the house.

The next morning was going to be very awkward.

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc @pedrosprincess @mikaelsonsstuff @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @madelynie @loverofdrewstarkey @radiant-whore @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks #outer banks imagine

583 notes · View notes

heartshapedbubble · 5 months

Note

Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

362 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months

Text

Amazon Alexa is a graduate of the Darth Vader MBA

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

If you own an Alexa, you might enjoy its integration with IFTTT, an easy scripting environment that lets you create your own little voice-controlled apps, like "start my Roomba" or "close the garage door." If so, tough shit, Amazon just nuked IFTTT for Alexa:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/10/25/23931463/ifttt-amazon-alexa-applets-ending-support-integration-automation

Amazon can do this because the Alexa's operating system sits behind a cryptographic lock, and any tool that bypasses that lock is a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA, punishable by a 5-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that it's literally a crime to provide a rival OS that lets users retain functionality that Amazon no longer supports.

This is the proverbial gun on the mantelpiece, a moral hazard and invitation to mischief that tempts Amazon executives to run a bait-and-switch con where they sell you a gadget with five features and then remotely kill-switch two of them. This is prime directive of the Darth Vader MBA: "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."

So many companies got their business-plan at the Darth Vader MBA. The ability to revoke features after the fact means that companies can fuck around, but never find out. Apple sold millions of tracks via iTunes with the promise of letting you stream them to any other device you owned. After a couple years of this, the company caught some heat from the record labels, so they just pushed an update that killed the feature:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/10/30/apple-to-ipod-owners-eat-shit-and-die-updated/

That gun on the mantelpiece went off all the way back in 2004 and it turns out it was a starter-pistol. Pretty soon, everyone was getting in on the act. If you find an alert on your printer screen demanding that you install a "security update" there's a damned good chance that the "update" is designed to block you from using third-party ink cartridges in a printer that you (sorta) own:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Selling your Tesla? Have fun being poor. The upgrades you spent thousands of dollars on go up in a puff of smoke the minute you trade the car into the dealer, annihilating the resale value of your car at the speed of light:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/23/how-to-fix-cars-by-breaking-felony-contempt-of-business-model/

Telsa has to detect the ownership transfer first. But once a product is sufficiently cloud-based, they can destroy your property from a distance without any warning or intervention on your part. That's what Adobe did last year, when it literally stole the colors from your Photoshop files, in history's SaaSiest heist caper:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

And yet, when we hear about remote killswitches in the news, it's most often as part of a PR blitz for their virtues. Russia's invasion of Ukraine kicked off a new genre of these PR pieces, celebrating the fact that a John Deere dealership was able to remotely brick looted tractors that had been removed to Chechnya:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

Today, Deere's PR minions are pitching search-and-replace versions of this story about Israeli tractors that Hamas is said to have looted, which were also remotely bricked.

But the main use of this remote killswitch isn't confounding war-looters: it's preventing farmers from fixing their own tractors without paying rent to John Deere. An even bigger omission from this narrative is the fact that John Deere is objectively Very Bad At Security, which means that the world's fleet of critical agricultural equipment is one breach away from being rendered permanently inert:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#deere-john

There are plenty of good and honorable people working at big companies, from Adobe to Apple to Deere to Tesla to Amazon. But those people have to convince their colleagues that they should do the right thing. Those debates weigh the expected gains from scammy, immoral behavior against the expected costs.

Without DMCA 1201, Amazon would have to worry that their decision to revoke IFTTT functionality would motivate customers to seek out alternative software for their Alexas. This is a big deal: once a customer learns how to de-Amazon their Alexa, Amazon might never recapture that customer. Such a switch wouldn't have to come from a scrappy startup or a hacker's DIY solution, either. Take away DMCA 1201 and Walmart could step up, offering an alternative Alexa software stack that let you switch your purchases away from Amazon.

Money talks, bullshit walks. In any boardroom argument about whether to shift value away from customers to the company, a credible argument about how the company will suffer a net loss as a result has a better chance of prevailing than an argument that's just about the ethics of such a course of action:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Inevitably, these killswitches are pitched as a paternalistic tool for protecting customers. An HP rep once told me that they push deceptive security updates to brick third-party ink cartridges so that printer owners aren't tricked into printing out cherished family photos with ink that fades over time. Apple insists that its ability to push iOS updates that revoke functionality is about keeping mobile users safe – not monopolizing repair:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

John Deere's killswitches protect you from looters. Adobe's killswitches let them add valuable functionality to their products. Tesla? Well, Tesla at least is refreshingly honest: "We have a killswitch because fuck you, that's why."

These excuses ring hollow because they conspicuously omit the possibility that you could have the benefits without the harms. Like, your tractor could come with a killswitch that you could bypass, meaning you could brick it at a distance, and still fix it yourself. Same with your phone. Software updates that take away functionality you want can be mitigated with the ability to roll back those updates – and by giving users the ability to apply part of a patch, but not the whole patch.

Cloud computing and software as a service are a choice. "Local first" computing is possible, and desirable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

The cheapest rhetorical trick of the tech sector is the "indivisibility gambit" – the idea that these prix-fixe menus could never be served a la carte. Wanna talk to your friends online? Sorry there's just no way to help you do that without spying on you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/08/divisibility/#technognosticism

One important argument over smart-speakers was poisoned by this false dichotomy: the debate about accessibility and IoT gadgets. Every IoT privacy or revocation scandal would provoke blanket statements from technically savvy people like, "No one should ever use one of these." The replies would then swiftly follow: "That's an ableist statement: I rely on my automation because I have a disability and I would otherwise be reliant on a caregiver or have to go without."

But the excluded middle here is: "No one should use one of these because they are killswitched. This is especially bad when a smart speaker is an assistive technology, because those applications are too important to leave up to the whims of giant companies that might brick them or revoke their features due to their own commercial imperatives, callousness, or financial straits."

Like the problem with the "bionic eyes" that Second Sight bricked wasn't that they helped visually impaired people see – it was that they couldn't be operated without the company's ongoing support and consent:

https://spectrum.ieee.org/bionic-eye-obsolete

It's perfectly possible to imagine a bionic eye whose software can be maintained by third parties, whose parts and schematics are widely available. The challenge of making this assistive technology fail gracefully isn't technical – it's commercial.

We're meant to believe that no bionic eye company could survive unless they devise their assistive technology such that it fails catastrophically if the business goes under. But it turns out that a bionic eye company can't survive even if they are allowed to do this.

Even if you believe Milton Friedman's Big Lie that a company is legally obligated to "maximize shareholder value," not even Friedman says that you are legally obligated to maximize companies' shareholder value. The fact that a company can make more money by defrauding you by revoking or bricking the things you buy from them doesn't oblige you to stand up for their right to do this.

Indeed, all of this conduct is arguably illegal, under Section 5 of the FTC Act, which prohibits "unfair and deceptive business practices":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

"No one should ever use a smart speaker" lacks nuance. "Anyone who uses a smart speaker should be insulated from unilateral revocations by the manufacturer, both through legal restrictions that bind the manufacturer, and legal rights that empower others to modify our devices to help us," is a much better formulation.

It's only in the land of the Darth Vader MBA that the deal is "take it or leave it." In a good world, we should be able to take the parts that work, and throw away the parts that don't.

(Image: Stock Catalog/https://www.quotecatalog.com, Sam Howzit; CC BY 2.0; modified)

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

#pluralistic #alexa #ifttt #criptech #disability #drm #revocation #nothing about us without us #futureproofing #graceful failure #darth vader MBA #enshittification

286 notes · View notes

wthtorke · 7 months

Text

Snowstorm

*Looks around* Well hello lmao what a better way to return than posting a THICK ass fic huh

8K words - Warnings for getting trapped, small spaces, and everything that comes with it + general trauma + injury - Gender-neutral reader

Enjoy! <3

You often put others' needs before your own.

Not that you noticed you did it. It took some pointing out from your close friends to get you to realize just how you swept your desires under the rug.

After god knows how much pushing, you agreed to go on a trip by yourself. "No work worries, no guys, no girls, just you and your alone time!" Your friend had said.

You sat in your living room with your laptop, browsing through destinations and flight tickets. Everyone seemed eager to see you go on the trip. At least, you hoped it was that. While you loved your friends, you worried that if you were not helpful somehow, they would drop you cold.

Were they happy for you or happy to see you go? You didn't know, but the trip could help that too. You wanted to be more independent, sure, and in tune with yourself.

Your eyes stop on an ad, and immediately you click it.

Skiing in the Rocky Mountains.

You smile. The cool crisp air may do you some good.

You book the ticket and the hotel for your stay, and as the week goes by, you pack your bags. You had gone on other trips throughout your life, of course, but this one felt a little different. Maybe because it'd be your first alone adventure in a long time, but whatever it was, you felt good about it.

The day before the trip, you say goodbye to your friends and head back to your house. Only 7 hours of sleep and a couple more of flight separated you from snow and, hopefully, a lot of fun.

The trip is easy enough. You get to your room at the hotel and unpack just enough to start exploring as soon as you could.

Groups of people gathered at the tourist stops choosing what they would be doing and booking activities for the day. Just as you reach the board, the ski equipment is fully booked for the day already.

You frown as a lady beside you nods. "Yup, all gone! I'm pissed as fuck too! You either bring your own or get here at the butt of the morning to rent equipment." She sighs. "I'm going on a hike. Make sure to leave your name in the equipment call, though. If somebody gives up, they should give you preference, it seems." She shrugs.

You nod, perking up and signing your name with the clerk's list, looking back at the girl again, "what hike did you choose?"

"Me? One of the easy ones, that one-," she points at the boards again. The list still had some spots left, "It's the longest of the easy ones, though. Thinking about joining?"

You nod, "Yeah, it's only my first day here. It sounds good enough for a first day," you say, picking up the pen and putting down your info on the list. The group would depart in 30 minutes, enough time to prepare for it.

"Nice! I'll see you at the meeting point later then!" She smiles and walks off. You smile at the clerk and head back to your room to pack your bag for the hike.

You pack your backpack with energy bars, the biggest water bottle you could find, the emergency first aid kit one of your friends gifted you, a hiking map you bought in the reception, a small emergency light, an emergency bivy, and an emergency blanket, just in case.

On your way down, you buy two sandwiches from a machine, along with a soup-filled thermos, stuffing them in your backpack before heading to the meeting spot.

You look around, searching for the lady you talked to earlier, wondering if she would make it in time.

She arrives 2 minutes before your departure, panting a bit but smiling at you, waving as she walks over. "Hey there, ready to freeze up there?"

"Definitely not." You two laugh as your guide speaks up, stating the hike rules and emergency tips. "And lastly, do not go anywhere alone. The hike is easy, but don't underestimate it! Safety is in numbers, always. Now, with all of that said, let's get hiking!"

The way up is slow. People chat quietly while they walk, taking pictures and generally marveling about the views, you included.

The wind is ice cold and makes your lungs feel a bit prickly when you breathe. Your cheeks are cold, a reminder that you were really there, enjoying a hike on a trip you made on your own. It makes you smile.

You're halfway up when your newfound friend approaches you again.

"So, you came by yourself?" The girl asks. You nod, "yeah, I thought I would do something different…what about you?"

"I travel alone all the time. First time here, though!" She smiles, "After I started going places alone, I just couldn't stop. It's way easier." She says. The guide announces your first stop to rest is just up ahead.

As most of the group sits down to eat and drink, you and your friend sit on a fallen log at the edge of the trail. You pull out one of your bars while she takes a few swigs of her water bottle.

You're laughing at her jokes when a crack calls your attention toward the trees. You turn around to look, staring intently at the trees. Your friend’s gaze switches from you to the trees multiple times, “Bestie? You good?”

“Did you hear anything?” You ask her, still searching. The chatter from the rest of the group dies down as you strain to hear anything from the trees again. “It’s probably a squirrel or something.” She shrugs.

“I think that was too heavy to be a squirrel.” You say, hearing it again as you get up from the log, picking up your backpack. She does the same, “Okay….maybe it’s a huge squirrel or a deer?” She says, starting to sound worried as well.

The cracking sounds get louder and more violent before a strong gust of wind hits both of you. A big thundering sound follows it. You realize what’s happening all too late.

“Avalanche! Run!”

You both scream and make for it. The snow comes crashing down through the trees as you and your friend sprint through the trail, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. You look at the snow for a fraction of a second and slip.

You fall to the ground. You can barely hear any screaming over the falling snow’s booming noise. You scream and try getting up again, putting your hands up to shield yourself from the snow.

Another sound hits your ears before a blur launches itself toward you. The sound is blood-curdling, bone-chilling, roaring as loud as the snow coming for you. You feel the impact of said thing against your body, throwing you both off the edge. You hold onto it, whatever it was. Screaming and closing your eyes as you both flew over the edge.

He had seen it coming, of course. While his brothers and sisters went for the hottest countries on whatever planet they landed in. He loved the snow. He had over two centuries of experience with it.

He saw it coming.

You are as light as he thought you would be. He holds you and your backpack against his chest as you fall off the snowy ledge. The cord of his wrist gauntlet catches against the stone. He snaps it off as you both get launched into the cave underneath the ledge.

He lands hard on his feet, setting you down unceremoniously on the ground before rushing back to the cave entrance. The snow rages violently over as it falls from the edge, washing over anything in its way. He had been using this cave for a few days now. He knew this could happen. Would happen.

Still, he needed to close the entrance.

The snow piles and pushes inside the cave. He aims his blaster toward the entrance’s ceiling and shoots, jumping over to your side as the stones crash down, stopping the snow from burying you both alive as he shields your body from the falling rocks.

It’s too much. You cry and scream while keeping your face on the floor, hands shielding your head as the booming noises of cracking trees, snow, and falling rocks make your heart pound in every which way inside your ribcage. You get dragged closer by the man who saved you, and you hug the thigh he was crouching on the ground with, sobbing into it as you wait for the nightmare to be over.

It feels like hours. It probably is hours long until the wreckage comes to a stop. You still hear the avalanche layers settling on top of the cave and its would-be entrance. The cave is pitch black. You can’t see a palm in front of your face. All you hear is your ragged breathing and the man’s -somehow- calm one. His is heavier, although slower than yours. he was big, you were sure he was from the blur you saw standing there before the rocks fell. His breathing had a dragging sound to it, a soft ‘ch ch ch’ that made your hairs stand on end. Oh God, what if he was asthmatic?

“I- I think we’re okay now-” You say. He doesn’t reply. “Sir, are you hurt? Oh God-” You panic, patting around the floor for your bag, scooting away from him until you find it. “I’ve got a light in here. God, I hope it’s not broken!” You take a deep breath and try to remember where you placed it, counting the small bags on the front before reaching the fourth one. You pull its zip and reach for the light. The thick, now wet, gloves you wear make the metal almost slip from your grasp.

“Please turn on, please turn on,” You pray as you push the button, successfully illuminating the wall in front of you. “Yes! Okay, now we can-” You turn around, looking for the man,

Finding something else entirely.

It’s bigger than any man you’ve ever known in your life. Its skin is of a blueish hue with black mottling. It has protrusions that remind you of a hedgehog’s quills up its forearms, chest, and the sides of its face. It wore a mask along with dense-looking armor that looked battle-worn. Its chest heaved the same slow and steady breathing, making the quills drag against the black netting it wore.

Your pupils dilate in dread as you perceive it whole. Your body freezes. Your breath hitches.

And you faint.

The light falls from your hand as your body hits the floor. Your backpack acts as a hard pillow as the world darkens and comes to a stop.

He watches as you turn into stone and pass out on your equipment, and only then does he move toward you. He grabs the small light you produced from your pack and turns it off with the click of a button, careful not to break it. He did not need light, not as long as he had his mask (even if he didn’t, if he was honest), and not as long as you were unconscious.

‘Might as well save its power.’ He thinks.

He takes a quick check over your form. Bruising was sure to occur. Your ankle was sprained, also expected. All in all, everything is fine. He’s glad about that.

Now, for air.

He stands up and walks to the entrance again. While it wasn’t safe to leave the cave while the layers were still loose, and with the temperatures dropping outside, your chances of survival were low, even if his weren’t. But being wholly shut in wouldn’t do either, especially with your panicked breath. Screaming requires air. Lots of it.

He stretches his palm over the cold stone, feeling around. A few well-placed holes would do well enough. Stepping back, his aim shines over the stone once more.

Adjusting the width of each blast, he lasers perfect circles scattered on the wall. The snow outside melts, and fresh, cold air drifts in through the holes before more snow covers them once more. He reaches for his back pocket, retrieving several silver rings, and places them into the holes in the stone. Adjusting the desired length of each ring before pressing a button, he watches the holograms expand on his gauntlet until they surpass the snow outside. He checks each tube, satisfied when air flows steadily through all of them.

He turns back to you and walks over.

He couldn’t say what made him save you. He had been hunting in the mountains. He did see you and your group going up. But why did he risk himself to save you? He didn’t know. He found himself clutching the tree he was perched on when the snow went down, even though he would have been safe. He leaped before you fell to your knees in the snow.

Crouching down, he takes a second to look at your face.

You groan, and he sits down, moving back to give you some space. You look around, seeing the thin light streaks coming from the wall. You look a bit to the side and squint, spotting the one figure you hoped was a dream.

A scream rips from your throat as you panic once more, almost crushing your light in the process. You back up into the nearest wall and point your light at him, turning it on again. “What are you?! What-!”

It’s a strange creature, half man and half… something else. You had no idea what.

He lifts his hands up, and you grasp your light firmly as if it were a gun. “Don’t move-! Stay there! Who are you? What do you want?!” You ask. Demand.

You hear audio shuffling before a distorted, “Easy…- Easy…” reaches your ears. You recognize the voice. Your instructor, the line spoken to the whole group while going through a particularly slippery part of the trail that morning. “What-...What are you? You’re not a man-, who are you?” You ask desperately.

He shakes his head, and you want to cry harder, though he didn’t answer your second question. “Am I dead?” You sob. He shakes his head again and slowly points to the door.

“-..-Thick S̴̨̛̛̞͉̗̜̦̘̤̤̱͉͖͒̍̑̆̑͌͆̃̕n̴̡̳̖͕̹̞͎̝̞͂̿̀̾̏̈̈́́͝ơ̸̝̣̓̔̾͊̈́̇̇̋̎̓͜͝w-.”

You sniffle, not peeling your eyes from him. “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t-” He doesn’t reply, slowly lowering his hands again. You start to get nervous again before he points to the corner of the cave. Hesitantly, you cast the light to it, seeing the glint of the metal-like cord he had used to save you both. Your eyes widen as you try to remember the quick flashes of the occurred. You fell. The snow was coming. Something caught you, held you, and you fell over the edge. The light moves back to his form. “It was you-, so you saved me, okay-, but why?”

Again, no reply.

The tears form cold, stiff streaks on your cheeks as you try to wipe them with the back of your gloves. You look around the cave. It wasn’t that big. You doubted you could stand up fully inside it, let alone someone as big as your…new friend. He had taken care of the air supply, but you weren’t properly trained for this. You feared you wouldn’t last until the morning. Not like this.

“You-, you made the holes in the walls, right? Can’t you get us out?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Safer-...Here.”

“How is it safer here? We’re buried to our necks in-...Snow.” He nods.

“Snow is a good insulator, right?” He nods again. “Right…So you’ll get us out in the morning?” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll take that as a hopeful yes.” You say, setting your light down in the middle of the cave, pointing at the ceiling, illuminating the space the best it could.

You open your backpack and set to planning your night here. You see your phone and gasp, trying to get it. No signal.

You sigh as you look at the rest of your pack. You had your blanket, emergency bivy, and food and water were also fine. Nothing got broken during your rescue, thankfully.

You take a look at your companion to find him also going through his own pack, though his equipment looked far different than yours. They almost seemed like…weapons.

Oh, God.

“Do you come here often?” You ask. His head snaps at you. You freeze.

He shakes his head, and you sigh in relief. “You don’t…hunt people, right?”

He keeps staring. You wish you hadn’t asked. “Innocent people? You hunt innocent people?” Perhaps it was the trauma, the ice, the pain, or the sheer chaos of the situation you found yourself in. But judging an alien creature wasn’t as impossible as you thought it’d be. “Hunters- -Like me.” His mask croaks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You hunt…other hunters? Human ones or, like, -really- like you? People like you?”

“-Like me.” He repeats.

“Your own species? Like a cop?”

A few seconds pass before you hear your own voice. “Like a cop.” Your eyes widen more. “So you’re a space cop, got it…Then what are you doing here on Earth? And in the -snow- of all places?”

A strange sound comes from him. A scoff.

“Vaca̶̤͔͚͌̃͝ͅtion timee̷̛͖̬͙̞̞̯͙͉͓̓́̈́̀̚e̴̛̞͎͆̀͂̉̎̂͘̕͠͝e-” A young girl’s voice followed by laughter.

You find yourself laughing nervously at the audio. A soft laugh that makes him tilt his head slightly. “Me too.” You say, “Ironically enough.”

You set out your equipment in silence before you unwrap your first sandwich. You look at your watch. 3 PM. Nice time to have a heavier snack, then you could eat the bars until the night and then eat your soup. And you’d still have your second sandwich!

Your…second sandwich.

“Hey.” You look at him again. He looks up from organizing his gear. “Do you have any food in that pack of yours? I have an extra one here.” You lift the wrapped sandwich to show him.

He seems to consider before giving you a dismissive hand gesture, going back to his fiddling.

“I have plenty here,” You say. “I don’t think…someone as big as you shouldn’t go too long without eating something.” He looks at you again. His mask moves slightly. You weren’t sure if he was really looking at your hand or not.

“It’s just a turkey sandwich, are you vegetarian?” You ask, worried, for some reason. He makes a strange sound. Clicking and huffing came from his mask. Was he laughing?

“Look, to me, you’re a carnivore -at least- but I can’t be too sure, right? You’re the first…alien I know.”

He shakes his head. “Not-, Vegetarian.”

You nod, digging around your backpack for the other sandwich before tossing it to him. The speed with which he catches it is impressive enough. You blink, and his hand moves from the ground to beside his mask, catching the sandwich.

He eyes it as you eat your own. For a second, you wonder if he’s allergic to anything in it. You’re about to ask when he moves again, sitting with his back turned to you.

You frown in confusion as he sets the sandwich down on his thigh before starting to take the mask off.

Each pop it makes has your eyes widening impossibly more. With everything that happened, you forgot the mask wasn't his -face-.

He sets the mask down, its impassive expression staring at you from the floor while he picks up the sandwich again, unwrapping it.

You wondered what he looked like without it. It felt too rude to ask. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous from you.

Maybe the light hurt his eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

Maybe he was just -shy-.

The clicking sound- now much louder and clear, calls your attention back to reality. You watch as he apparently throws the whole sandwich into his mouth, if he really had one, and swallows it whole.

If he chewed it, you didn’t hear it. But you do hear the biggest ‘gulp’ of your life coming from him.

You jump a little bit when he picks up the mask again, snapping the tubes back on and turning around again.

You finish eating your own food and put the trash in your bag. "I need something I can…call you- you know, other than alien? That feels rude.”

He shakes his head, and you lick your cold lips in thought. “How does Storm sound? I don’t think ‘Avalanche’ is any good.” You shrug, taking a swig from your water bottle. “I don’t think I should mention this to anyone, right?”

He nods. You purse your lips again, “Look- I know the less contact between us the better, and I definitely shouldn't be asking these questions- but if I don't talk I think I'll go insane."

Storm crosses his arms, seemingly in thought before he says a simple, firm, "Yes."

"...Are there more alien species? Do you know them? Seen any?"

"Yes. -Yes….Yes."

"Wow." You whisper to yourself. "You're the most amazing and intense thing that ever happened to me…besides the avalanche, of course."

He relaxes, shifting a bit to sit against the stone wall. You do the same, resting against your pack. "Our government must know of you- are we friends? Our people?"

He shakes his head. You sag. "Oh…that sucks" Storm tilts his head, and a series of cut audios gather your attention again. "Government- sucks."

You laugh. His shoulders shake slightly. Maybe he was laughing as well?

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I came here, but I'm glad you're here. Thank you for saving me," you say. He stares at you before nodding slowly.

You smile and look at his pack on the floor, "Hey, do you have water? I have some if you want." He shakes his head and pulls out a metal bottle from one of the pouches on his back. A canteen?

“Do you want to lay out our things? We could see what we have and how we’re going to split it until tomorrow. I know the first rule is overpacking is good but…I don’t reeeally have that much,” you let out a nervous laugh.

He takes a second and stands on his knees. He is almost as tall as you'd be standing like that. He gathers his pack and throws it closer to you while he moves over.

You stare at him for a couple of seconds before the mask slowly turns to you. “Oh-, right, sorry- you’re just- okay never mind- So, I got my light, of course-, I got some energy bars, water, a map, a bivy, a blanket, a knife, a little emergency kit, and soup! Well-, more food if you can’t translate that.” You hold up the thermos like it was a prized trophy, "what do you got?"

He starts laying his own things out.

A dagger, cuffs of some kind, knives, a -whip-, the canteen he had shown you earlier, mini orbs that suspiciously looked like smoke bombs from movies, plus other things- probably weapons too, you had no idea the use of. And last, but not least, he offers you a jar.

You put yours down and hold his. The lid is not nearly as simple as yours, it has a mechanism on top of it. You frown in confusion before he snorts and presses two buttons on top of it.

The lid fizzes, and you gasp, looking up at him. He nods, and you slowly take it off, placing it on top of your blanket. The smell hits your nose, and you look at him again. "Jerky? Oh my God-, can I?" He nods.

You carefully take a strip of meat from the jar. "What kind of meat is this? This isn't…human, right?" You gulp. He shakes his head and lifts his wrist. His gauntlet shows a hologram of a deer.

"Ohhhh, wow, you're really a hunter, aren't you?" You marvel, putting the strip back in the jar before closing it again. Storm taps the same buttons, and it seals tight again.

You place the jar on the floor along with everything else. The contrast between your equipment and his is stark. You laugh a bit. "Well, aren't we made for each other?" He snorts as you check your watch.

You look up and find his mask very close to you, also looking at your watch. "It's not as fancy as yours," you laugh, holding your wrist up for him to see.

Being this close, you feel your face heat up. You look down at his torso when he gently grabs your wrist, inspecting it closer. "You- are you not um- cold? You're not exactly ah…layered up."

He did wear some fur around his shoulders and waist, but other than that, only the netting and some armor. He does the clicking sound again- chuckling?

The hand on your wrist firms it while the other pops your glove open, pulling it up and off your hand. You jerk a bit when he pulls the naked hand to his chest. "Oh- what-...Oh."

Hot. He is hot. Literally.

You can't tell if the netting is heated or if he's just a furnace. But he's incredibly warm. Your fingers twitch as you concentrate on the feel of his skin. It wasn't like yours, that was for sure. It was almost rubbery, and hot but texturized as well. It was…well, alien. The prickly quills he had also were interesting to stare at.

What a Tarzan moment.

You take your hand back, putting your glove on again, "I'm jealous of that temperature. Even with all these layers, I'm still cold," you frown, "your planet must be scorching hot," you say.

He takes a while but nods.

He didn't exactly like sharing information, you learned. It was fair, he saved you- and he was an alien. Things were complicated. "I think you look great here though, in the snow," The glove feels cold compared to what you just experienced.

He scoffs, crossing his arms as you think about the events of today over and over again before looking at him once more. "Do you have any family?" The question hits you like a train and blurts out of your mouth before you could filter it. "I mean- if you can tell me."

He nods, and your eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that you thought he wouldn't have one. He had a belly button, so he couldn't have just…spawned from somewhere. You smile at the mental image of him just popping into existence.

You look back at your equipment, especially at the food. "Look, I know we're on 'not too much involvement' thing, but you don't have to turn away every time to eat. I won't tell anyone- though I'm sure the government must have blurry pictures of others like you in their archives somewhere already."

He's closer to you than before, having not moved away since your little touching moment. His presence is as grounding as it is exciting. It makes you alert and awake, even though you're so tired.

Storm's mask turns to you slightly, considering.

"Scary."

You frown. "Scary? Your face is scary? But your mask is so…familiar? Is it too different from it?"

He nods again.

"Oh- well, I won't be afraid of you, you saved my life, and now we're here chatting and having an icy picnic covered in snow. I'd say this makes us best friends." You smile. He huffed.

What he does instead is lift his wrist gauntlet again. Another hologram pops up.

"Ohhhhh my-" You look back up at his mask. Its cold expression almost mocks you. "Okay, you weren't lying when you said it was different- why do you guys make it like that? You know what- that's none of my business, sorry." You look back at the hologram.

While you didn't know if it was really him- the hologram was all red-, the way their faces were just…made sense. The tusks, the teeth, the mandibles. You marvel at the quills on the eyebrows, just like they were on the rest of him.

Something must have been wrong with you, but you didn't think he was ugly.

"I get the scary part. I'd freak out if I saw you in the dark, no offense." He chuckles deeply, the most you've seen him laugh so far. You smile again. "Thanks for showing me, now I won't pass out on you again if you take it off." He shuts it off. You almost made a sad noise at it.

Suddenly, all the excitement takes a toll on you. With your last burning curiosity sated, your eyes begin to get heavier. "Okay, I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off." You say. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit."

He gets up, checking the air supply tubes in the stone. You worm your way into your bivy, leaving the blanket for him if he needs it. He probably wouldn't, but the thought eased you. "Wake me up if anything changes okay?" You say. He doesn't react. You take a painkiller and lay down again.

"...and please don't leave me here alone." You say, with a little more emotion than you anticipated.

He turns his head and nods before going back to his inspection.

You close your eyes for a second.

Just a second.

You jolt awake when a hand closes around your shoulder. You blink several times, breathing in deeply as you focus on the mask before you again. "Hey- anything changed?"

Storm shakes his head, pointing at your watch instead as you sit up. You check the time. 7:15 PM. Your ice cave definitely feels colder now.

You get up, taking your soup thermos out of the bag. Its lid made for a little bowl. You prayed it was still warm.

You sigh in relief as you pour the soup on the lid. It was lukewarm, but the warmth spreading through your torso was priceless. You're on your second sip when you hear the same fizzy noise as before. Your eyes darted to your side where Storm was taking his mask off.

You gulp as the second tube is snapped off. He's facing forward as he's sitting beside you. But still, you would see it.

You tip the cup back as you swallow your third sip, hoping the thick plastic would disguise your blatant staring.

Storm's fingers slip under the metal, snapping it briefly before lifting it from his face. Your breath quickens quietly as your eyes follow the metal until it's placed on the floor. You stare at it before slowly looking back up.

Storm is looking at you.

Your eyes dilate as you take in every aspect of his face. The mandibles, the tusks, the sharp teeth peeking from behind tightly closed tusks. The blue hue from his body painted his face, fading into a cool white tone in the middle of his face. The edges of his head are shaped like a crown. A black crown that closed into the middle of his head, where the blues and whites were.

And then the eyes. His eyes.

Unlike the rest of him, Storm’s eyes were yellow. Deep, electric yellow. The primal instinct in your brain told you this was wrong. His face was wrong. Well, he wasn’t human. You were coded to think anything with different features walking on two legs was weird.

Your brain told you to run, scream or get help, to do something -against- him while the rest of you knew well that he was an ally. It was hard to go against every fiber of your being and stay still.

‘He’s still your friend.’ You think. ‘He just looks a little different.’

Storm’s expression changes, and while you can’t grasp what the tusk movements must mean yet, you surely know what a skeptical eyebrow raise looks like. “I’m not freaking out, I swear.” You manage to say. You have no idea if he still understands you without the mask.

He seems to, as his top tusks twitch and his eyebrows relax. He looks away and grips his own jerky jar. You’re suddenly reminded of your soup. You pour more soup onto the lid, gulping it down while trying your best not to openly stare at him.

It’s evident he’s also trying to ignore you while he eats. His tusks part and he inserts the chunks of jerky in. You can’t see any molars in your ogling. Maybe he was made for tearing out chunks of food and swallowing them like a crocodile?

You gulp down more of your soup until it’s down to half of it. You shake the thermos a bit, doing your best to stir the soup before leaning it toward him. “Would you like some?” To your surprise, he’s also offering you his jar. You smile, nodding, “Let’s swap.”

You trade bottles, picking out a piece of jerky while he brings the thermos closer to his mouth. He didn’t have an apparent nose, but maybe he just smelled things differently. He must have deemed it good enough for his mandible part, and he tips his head back, drinking the soup. You half expected it to spill over and make a mess, but having done this for however long he had lived, he knew what he was doing.

You, on the other side, had no idea what you’d do without your lips.

After eating your fill and re-packing, you huddle close to him. Storm messed with his wrist gauntlet as you lost yourself in your thoughts once more. For once in your life, the silence was comfortable. Sure, you couldn’t exactly communicate, but that didn’t feel like a problem.

You could communicate with your friends and family, but it still made you anxious at times. Next time you check your watch, it's about 9 PM. “I think we should sleep,” you say, getting his attention once more. “I’ve slept a bit and…fainted, but you haven’t slept yet.”

Seeing him without the mask was as otherworldly as it was interesting. Seeing his expressions as he listened to you, then changing while he thought before finally setting as he nodded.

You smile and crawl back to your bivy while he checks the air supply once more. You had no idea how you would get out of the cave tomorrow, but you trusted Storm and his high-tech equipment. And his muscles. The muscles were a big plus, too.

By the time he turns around, you’re inside your bivy, but you point to the blanket folded neatly on top of your backpack. “I know you’re well warm, but the blanket is over there if you need it.” He looks at it briefly before nodding at you. He hands you your emergency light and lays down on the opposite side of the cave, about two arm's lengths away from you.

“Good night, partner.” You say before shutting the light off, getting a grunt in return.

The cave was pitch black as you expected. You shuffle a bit in your bivy before settling down completely on your side. You wondered how people outside were doing. Did the avalanche make the news? Did your friends know? Was anyone else hurt during it? You were thankful to be alive, thankful for Storm, but you felt bad for everyone else.

Tears prickled in the corners of your vision as you try so hard to fall asleep. It’s cold, you’re trapped in a cave with an alien. Not that Storm was a negative point. You’d be dead without him. But things were far from okay right now.

You hear shuffling and wonder if Storm also has trouble sleeping. He’d been calm so far, never raising his voice or panicking. ‘Maybe he’s used to these situations.’ You think, given the scars he bears on his body. You didn’t want to think of what could hurt someone like Storm.

Your chest feels tight. It’s hard to push the anxiety down. You almost want to talk to him again, but what would you say? What -could- you say? You were the one to suggest sleeping in the first place. Your heart beats faster, and you’re awfully aware of your surroundings, even in the dark.

The walls are cold and wet. The air is a little stale. You can smell yourself as you can also smell Storm behind you. You can smell the thick rubbery scent of your gloves as they grip the bivy’s lining with all they got. Like you had gripped Storm earlier that day when he rescued you.

You swallow dryly, trying to breathe in and out to avoid negative thoughts. Things would be okay. You were alive, fairly warm, and you had a big alien as your personal bodyguard through a disaster. You hear more shuffling. The sound of the emergency blanket being unfolded hits your ears. You wait a couple of seconds, eyes darting around in the dark before you open your mouth to ask him if he was okay.

You’re in the middle of breathing your first word when you feel the blanket getting laid on top of your bivy. Storm smooths out the blanket on top of you before laying down again, closer to you this time. You’re at loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

You feel his breath against the top of your beanie, so his chest must be somewhere in front of you now. You bite your lip, feeling the knot in your chest loosen the tiniest bit. You were not alone. Things were going to be okay. You focus on his breathing pattern, so even and calm. Constant. The sound his tusks occasionally make is soothing over the deathly silence of the cave. You don’t remember closing your eyes, nor do you remember falling asleep.

The way your bladder burns wakes you up. Storm’s breathing is heavier now, asleep. It pains you to move, like getting your pet out of your lap after it finally got comfortable.

As soon as you move, his breathing stops. Then resumes in that light, calculated rhythm. Awake.

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, worming out of your bivy, patting around for your light. You go to the far corner of the cave and do your business, covering it with loose dirt with your boot, thanking the universe Storm didn’t move an inch from where he was.

Taking your pants off in the unbelievable cold of a 3 AM shut-in ice cave was no easy business. Curse bodily functions to the end and back. You do your best to push the burning shame down and head to your backpack, sanitizing your hands.

You steal a glance to your side while you think, catching Storm looking directly at you. Your spine shivers a bit, a mix from the cold and his gaze. You take another sip of water and crawl back into your bivy, mindful of your ankle.

It makes your face heat up more to see how close he’s been to you for all these hours and how he doesn’t care enough to move away, even now that you disrupted him awake.

You lick your lips and clutch your light, looking at him again before shutting it off. Your face is still hot from all of it, but you listen intently to his breathing and clicking. You hoped he wouldn’t move away from you just yet, at least until you fell asleep.

You feel the warmth coming from his chest, moving your head forward so you could be closer to it, trying to chase away the rest of the cold from your suit again. That pee break cost you some precious degrees.

You’re still sulking internally when he finally moves. Your eyes widen in the dark as he spreads the blanket over you again. You smile and close your eyes, only to open them again as widely as before when you feel his arm drape over you.

He grunts, and suddenly you’re being dragged forward by that same arm. Your forehead hits something, and you instantly know it's his chest. You swallow hard. It’s as hot as it was earlier, rumbling with each breath.

“Warm.” He croaks. You shiver at how deep his real voice is. You nod fervently against his chest. The arm stays around you.

It takes you several minutes of internal struggle to calm down again. Your face is hotter, both from your embarrassment and his body temperature. Your ears turn back on when you hear a faint noise.

You squint, leaning in closer, and the sound gets louder.

His heartbeat.

Your body relaxes, almost melting against him.

His arm tightens the tiniest bit around you. You press your cheek against his chest, feeling his mandibles graze against the top of your beanie.

The rest of the night goes by too fast for your liking.

He wakes you up at 7 AM sharp. You almost want to cry when you realize the arm is no longer holding you, that his heartbeat is not against your ear still.

He packs his equipment, and so do you, leaving only the map out. “We were here yesterday.” You say, pointing at the map. “The hotel is here, and I think the equipment stall is here?” You felt like you were explaining your destination to a taxi driver.

You look up at him. He’s masked and ready to leave. So are you.

“How are we going to do this? Or, well, how you’re going to do this?” You ask. Storm makes a punching motion toward the stone. You almost can’t believe your very eyes. “Oh.”

Storm retracts the tubes and puts them away in one of his bags. This was it.

You stand at the side as Storm readies himself. He pushes some buttons on his gauntlet. You brace yourself as it makes a firing-up noise.

Storm steadies himself and times the punch with the gauntlet’s blast.

You close your eyes at the noise, protecting your head with your hands before you’re snatched from the ground once more.

You open them again when blinding light covers your eyelids. Everything is white as your eyes adjust. When colors flood your vision, you realize that not only you’re out of the cave but you’re in the air. Everything moves too fast.

Storm holds you up as he lands harshly in the snow piled below between trees. You shake the snow off your face as he works you both out of the thick snow bank. He squats again, and you hold tightly onto his neck before he jumps once more.

You struggle not to scream this time as well.

Storm lands firmly onto the snowy forest floor. He places you down gently as he surveys the area before relaxing once more. You look around, looking at the mountainside, following the trail of broken rocks until you see the cave's would-be entrance, quickly getting topped with more falling snow. “We were there?” You ask, out of breath. Storm nods. You turn to him. “Good legs.” You compliment. He huffs behind the mask.

You feel buzzing coming from your backpack, frowning in confusion before you remember your phone. Placing the pack on the floor, you quickly check it, watching as the multiple messages and missed calls finally load into your screen. You smile, choking on your breath before looking at Storm again.

You avoid your hurting ankle as you surge forward and wrap your arms around him again. He barely moves, not stepping back or stopping you. His hands hesitate at his sides before coming up and resting them on your shoulders, pressing you against him once before letting go.

You look up at him, seeing him at full height in daylight felt unreal. “Thank you so much. I owe you everything. You saved me. You had no obligation to, but you did. Thank you so much.” You bury your face into his chest again, feeling it rumble. You smile before he tenses up, and you both hear the helicopter sound from far away.

You let him go, looking up at the sky before looking back at him. Your heart tore into pieces. “You can go now.” The tears sting your eyes. “I’ll be fine from here.” He looks back at you.

“I’ll never forget you.” You sob, “Thank you again, for everything.”

The helicopter gets closer. You watch as he disappears in front of your very eyes. The blue skin and armor blend with the snow and trees behind him before the reflective figure jumps up one tree to another, and another, until you lose track of it in the distance.

Cold tears slide down your face as you hobble your way to a clearing, throwing your arms up when the helicopter comes into view.

The rest of the day goes by too slowly for your liking.

You’re taken back to the hotel, where a makeshift hospital has been set up. You’re asked questions, to which you reply either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I was buried in the snow all night’. You text your friends and relatives back while your ankle is tended to. You see the hiking girl from yesterday when you’re getting cleared from IV hydration hours later.

She screams in surprise, coming to hug you. ‘How did you make it?! Oh my God, we thought you were dead! I’m so happy to see you!” She cries, and so do you. After talking for a while, she shakes her head. “I’m cutting the damn trip -short-. I’m going the fuck home, and so should you. The flights are crazy, but there’s a company giving preference to the victims and their families.” She informs you.

One hour later, she hugs you one last time before leaving.

You do as she says, cutting the trip short as well, needing to process and recover from everything that happened. You’re promised heaven on earth by the hotel and the flight companies for future trips. Your friends scoff at the very thought of it. “Why the hell would you go back there? That’s insane of them to offer you packages like that.” One of them says.

You nod along the next few weeks until things slowly blend into normality again. You don’t tell anyone about what happened that night, and people don’t bother you about it. You look at your bag in your wardrobe every time you open it, thinking back to him, wondering if he also thought about you.

Six months of this go by. Followed by another six months.

One day, you open your wardrobe and pull your bag out again, dusting it for your trip. People worry about your decision of going back there. Some worry it might reopen wounds rather than closing them for good like you told them it would. Some others just thought you were crazy.

Crazy or not, you packed your bag and left. The flight took off and landed. You found yourself at the hotel, looking at the same clerk in the eyes again while she checked you in again, welcoming you back to the hotel.

You look at the hiking lists, finding them slightly different, but still running. You check in for solo hiking. You pack your bag accordingly this time, filled with all the necessities a survivor could need before you take off.

The forest is peaceful, and the track is fresh beneath your boots. You’re enjoying soup fondly at the end of the track when you hear that noise. The rumbly, clicking noise that you heard in your dreams for the past year. Always followed by the steady sound of a strong heartbeat.

You turn around, smiling when blue hues and armor flood your vision once more. ----------- If you read it till here, you're a champ lmao

Thanks for reading <3 muah muah

more work like this here

312 notes · View notes

remuslupingf · 11 months

Text

Dustin, whose your friend? II

E.M

Eddie Munson x shy!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: fluff, shy reader, anxious reader, nice eddie, dnd

Part I

You hear Eddie before you see him. You just have time to give yourself a once over in the mirror before you open your door, and hop down the steps to your house. Eddies sat there in his van, waiting for you. When he sees you, he grins and jumps out. He runs to the passenger side to open the door for you.

“M’lady,” he says, while bowing you into the van. You smile and pat his head while climbing up into your seat.

Eddie had been teaching you how to play dnd and tonight was the first time you would partake in a real campaign. With real players. With people you know. You were beyond nervous.

“It's gonna be fine baby! They were all first timers once! And we never judged them or made fun of them. We're gonna have so much fun.” He says while smiling at you.

“Okay, if you say so.” You answer quietly. He takes your hand and kisses it, making you smile. He knew you could get in your head about things. That was fine, as long as he could bring you back out to him. Only he knew how to talk sense into you.

You arrived at the school, and he hopped out fast so he could get your door for you. He loved doing that. Being able to do things boyfriends do for their girlfriends. He was the kind of guy who took pride in being a real gentleman. Someone who you could brag about to your girlfriends.

“Hey guys!’ You hear behind you. Of course Dustin is here early to set up.

“Hey Dusty! Are you excited? The start of a new campaign should be pretty epic.” You gush to him, hoping that you don't sound like an idiot.

“I know! The guys and I are so excited you're gonna play with us. It's gonna be legendary.” Dustin smiles at you, while helping Eddie unload some of the equipment he would need for the campaign. Apparently Eddie has spent some money on some new props.

You help them bring in the boxes to the drama room. What the hell was in here? They were so heavy. You set down your box as soon as Eddie had unlocked the door. You were starting to get more nervous than excited. What surprise did Eddie have in store? No one knew.

“HOLY SHIT” you hear Dustin yell. You whip around, to see him with an open box in front of him. Before you could think, Eddie was behind him, holding his hand to Dustin's mouth.

“Dammit henderson. You weren't supposed to open that. Do not tell anyone. Alright?” Eddie says, while slowly dropping his head.

Dustin slowly nods, mouth agape. “I won't tell, but how they hell did you pay for those?” he asks.

“Just renting them for the campaign, they gave me a deal too, they know Wayne.” Eddie says smugly.

You take a step closer, trying to sneak a peek at what is in the box. Before you get any closer, Eddie has you by the shoulders, spinning you around. “Let's go look over here angel, I’ll let you sit on my throne.”

—---

Now that Dustin knew about the secret, he got to help set up the surprise and you had to wait in the hallway. Before you knew it, the other members started to show up.

“Hey! We didn't know you were staring tonight.” Garett said when he and Jeff walked up to the drama room.

Before you could reply, Jeff pointed to the door, “Is Eddie not here yet? I have a spare key so we can get in.” He says, starting to take his backpack off so he can grab the key.

“No! Eddie and Dustin are setting up a surprise so we have to wait for them to let us in.” You tell them. They lean on the wall with you, making small talk. Some more members showed up, while you and Garett explained why the door was closed.

The collective group were all curious and excited for what was to come. Some had guesses, none very realistic. You explained whatever it was, had fit into 5 cardboard boxes. Before the group could start theorizing, the door creaked open. The lights were off. That wasn't normal was it? You look at Garett and he looks just as confused as you feel.

He pushes the door the rest of the way open. There's a break in the dark light. A deep red is emanating from Eddie's throne. Suddenly the floor fills up with smoke, where the hell had Eddie gotten a smoke machine? But that wasn't it. Once everyone was through the door, a menacing sound came from unseen speakers. Holy shit. Is this what hellfire was always like?

As the music rose, the lights got brighter, and Eddie stepped out from behind his throne. He was grinning like a maniac. Once he sat, everyone raced to their designated seats so they could start. You found an empty chair next to Dustin. You smiled at him and sat down, pulling out your folder that Eddie helped you work on. You were so excited to see what was going to happen. It was comforting that you had the help of your party.

Throughout the campaign, the music flows with the energy of the campaign. How had Eddie orchestrated this so perfectly? He was an amazing Dungeon Master. There came a point where your character was the only one who could save the party. This was up to you to save them. You stood at the end of the table, facing Eddie. You were shaking the D20 in your hands, praying that you got enough to take down the thessalhydra that had attacked your group.

You looked around the table, at your friends who were counting on you. You looked at Eddie, who was staring at your hands. Usually he would stare down the saviour of the campaign, but he wanted you to do well. He needed you to. Because if you didn't, would you still want to go to hellfire permanently?

You let go of the die, crossing your fingers. You couldn't look. What if it wasn't enough to save the party? Would the campaign be over? It would be all your fault. They'd never invite you back-

“FUCK YEAH” Garrett screams while everyone cheers and celebrates. You looked down. You had just taken down the monster, saving the party, and ending the progress of the campaign for the night.

You stood there shocked, with your mouth open. You turn to look at Dustin, who is mirroring your expression. You both stare at each other. “FUCK YEAH” you both yell while putting your arms in the air. You did it!! Everyones cheering for you. The party has a group hug, with you in the middle. You get a glimpse of Eddie, who is smiling from ear to ear.

After all the commotion had died down, the group rushed to Eddie, asking him if they could rent the lights, smoke machine, and speakers again for next week. Eddie pretends to think about it, before yelling out “Of course we can, are you kidding me? That's the best session we've ever had.”

The magic of the night had affected them all. They had all been playing for years, but this felt like dnd reinvented. It was like they all fell in love with it for the first time again. It was magic. And Eddie had created that. They worshiped him for it.

Before you knew what you were doing, your feet carried you to Eddie's throne. You threw your arms over him and kissed him. Eddie was shocked. Was he that good that you kissed him in front of EVERYONE? He didn't think much more than that because his brain literally stopped working.

You broke apart, instantly getting shy. What did you just do? It was only your second date! What if he thought you were easy? Before you could think much more, Eddie pulled you in for another kiss. Pulling you out of your head and back to him.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie blurb #eddie #fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x best friend reader #perv!eddie

496 notes · View notes

puckettrents · 2 years

Text

4 Reasons to Rent Portable Light Towers for Your Business

Did you know that every year more than 40000 workers get hurt due to fall accidents?

Fall injuries are common at work sites, but have you ever thought of the underlying reason behind these accidents? Reports revealed that the majority of accidents happen due to improper lighting.

To ensure a safe working environment, good lighting is essential for the construction and manufacturing industry. Portable light towers are a wonderful innovation to improve the safety standards at job sites. You can also get one for your business. Here are the top 4 reasons behind the immense popularity of portable light towers.

They can light up an area with no power available

Poorly lit job sites are hazardous for worker safety. Therefore, the demand for portal light towers is soaring. They perform remarkably to light up construction sites, manufacturing industries, and forest areas where there is no power.

They contribute significantly to improving worker productivity

Low-light conditions often result in downtime. However, if your business majorly depends on strict deadlines, you can’t afford downtime. A portable light tower helps the workers to reach their highest levels of productivity when the sun goes down. The light tower is great for winter or for industries where workers have night shifts as well.

Hassle-free usage

Yet another reason behind the extreme usability of portable light towers is their easy setup.

These high powered lamps work on an engine and a generator. No hassle of cables is there with portable light towers as each tower comes with its own generator.

Moreover, the setup is extremely easy to transport and can be rented easily.

Budget-friendly

When compared to the endless number of trips to the emergency department for accidents and injuries, investing in portable light towers is absolutely cost-efficient.

Renting a light tower is a budget friendly option as you don’t have to worry about down payments or storage solutions.

Conclusion

Dimly lit working environments are hazardous for your workers as well as your business. To improve worker productivity and increase your business efficiency, invest in portable light towers. Moreover, getting the perfect lighting conditions on rent is also a suitable option.

You can also get rental portable light towers from Puckett Rents. It is a widely recognized construction equipment rental company. Currently, there are serving in Richland, Natchez, Meridian, Madison and various other locations across Mississippi.

Original Source: 4 Reasons to Rent Portable Light Towers for Your Business

#Construction equipment rental #Equipment rental #Construction equipment for rent #Equipment rental company #Equipment rental service #Contracting equipment rental #Landscaping equipment rental #Rent light tower #Light Towers

1 note · View note

chvoswxtch · 8 months

Note

Court,

how do you think Matt, Frank, and Billy would react if their partner wanted to… uhm. Make a spicy home movie… 🌶️

(it’s gotta be cannon that Billy would eat that shit up, right?!)

headcannons for each? If you’re interested.

I HAVE THOTS

let's talk about it :)

spicy headcannons below the cut (minors dni)

billy russo

let's start with this fucker bc yes he would absolutely eat that shit up

he's getting production level equipment, setting up mics, perfecting the lighting, picking out a sexy expensive little outfit for you to wear, probably even calling in a professional team for hair and makeup, and picking out the most lavish location he can think of

this is an ALL night event. he's fucking you on every surface, in every room, in every position, and he's getting every single second on film. I think he'd pick a location that has a lot of floor to ceiling mirrors so that he can watch himself as he fucks you, bc we know he's a conceited fucker (he'd probably be watching you and himself in the reflection while you're on your knees with his cock in your mouth), and he's definitely getting close up shots of your face when he makes you come (or comes on your face)

there is definitely going to be a sensual soundtrack

this is not a home movie to billy, this is a feature film, and one he would bring with him everywhere while he's away from you

he's such a shithead he would probably have a "premiere" and rent out a theatre just for the two of you so he could watch himself fuck you on the big screen (and then fuck you right there in the theater)

he'd definitely want to make more than one I can promise you that

matt murdock

I think matt would be a bit surprised by your request, but I don't think he'd deny participating

I think he'd honestly be aroused that you want something handcrafted by the two of you to use when you're feeling lonely and missing him while he's out living his busy double life

obviously the visual is more for you, but the audio is for matt

in order to make it special for both of you, the two of you come up with a plan. maybe you rent a little isolated cabin outside the city so there's no background noise, and get a couple of little mics to set up so that you can capture every sound

the breathy pants from sensual kissing, the soft whimper when you tease the head of matt's cock with your tongue, the obscene slurping from him devouring your pussy, the echo of your ass smacking against his thighs while he fucks you from behind

you get the stunning visuals of matt in all his glory, but he gets the audio file of your combined gratification

everybody wins ;)

frank castle

frank is without a doubt the hardest to talk into this. i've said it once and i'll say it until I die, he's a hopeless romantic and old fashioned when it comes to dating and sex

don't get me wrong, he can be freaky, and i'm sure teenage frankie was no stranger to porn, but watching it vs being in it is a totally different thing

when you ask him to make a spicy home movie, his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush red. he isn't sure he heard you right, but once he realizes you were serious, he gets a little shy

frank can rip people apart with his barehands and not bat an eye but being naked on camera makes him blush

I think he would feel self conscious. you'd definitely have to warm him up, try to distract him from constantly looking over at the camera, push him up against the headboard and climb on his lap while you give him something else to focus on

by the time you finally sink down onto his needy cock, he's forgotten all about the camera

I don't think he would fully appreciate the little home movie until the first time he has to be away from you for more than a couple of days, and he's really missing you in some motel far away, and his curiosity gets the better of him. I think he'd feel guilty at first for fisting his cock while watching you ride his face, feeling like he's disrespecting you somehow or being a perv, but then he'd remember that you wanted this and what he's doing right now is exactly what it was intended for

and knowing that you're at home alone in bed watching the same video and touching yourself too would drive him absolutely insane and make him feel like he can't come home to you fast enough

266 notes · View notes

woso-fan13 · 9 months

Text

Sicktember 2023: 3

"What Happened To Your Phenomenal Immune System, Huh?"

Not for the first time, your overconfidence had come back to bite you. You had been psyched to find out you were rooming with Kristie, but you quickly became less psyched when she stumbled in the door. You could tell instantly that she was sick.

She had apologized profusely, offering to rent herself a hotel room so that she wouldn’t get you sick. You had instantly protested, insisting that you would be totally fine- you had an immune system that others could only dream about.

—-

Apparently, that dream is a nightmare, because you can barely open your eyes a few days later. Your entire body aches and you’re simultaneously freezing and sweating. You’re exhausted, too, only managing to turn over slightly, curl into a ball, and fall back into a restless sleep.

Not long after, Kristie knocks briefly on the door before opening it. She had just gotten back from her combination morning walk and breakfast, and was somewhat confused when she didn’t see you downstairs. Assuming that you had simply wanted to sleep in, she grabbed you a bagel and an apple, bringing it back with her.

“Rise and shine, Y/N/N,” she singsongs, “I know it’s our day off, but you-”

She’s cut off abruptly when she sees you lying in bed. She sighs lightly, taking out her phone and texting the others that the two of you would not be joining everyone for whatever team bonding activity they had planned.

She strides over to the bed, resting the back of her hand against your forehead before sliding it down to your cheek. Even before she makes contact with your skin, she can feel the fever radiating off of you. She uses her fingers to gently push the hair out of your face, frowning when you mumble slightly.

The only positive was that Kristie was fully equipped for a sick person- not even needing to leave the room for any of the necessities. She pulls the shades, leaving the room light off. Grabbing an electrolyte drink out of the fridge, she settles it down on the nightstand next to some medicine. Moving into the bathroom, she soaks a washcloth in cool water, grabs a dry towel and the bag-lined garbage bin. She leaves the bathroom light on, pulling the door shut just enough to allow the dim light into the room.

She lays the towel on the floor, placing the bin on top. ‘Just in case’ she silently reminds herself, hoping that you can sleep this off and not need it.

She makes sure she has her phone in her pocket before climbing into bed next to you. She settles the washcloth on your forehead, smiling softly at you when you whine and blink awake at the cool sensation.

Once you see Kristie, you sit up just enough to allow your body to crash on top of hers, your head resting on her stomach. You can feel her readjusting the washcloth with one hand as the other arm wraps around you.

Kristie looks down at you as you quickly fall asleep, your fever exhausting you.

“Oh, bubs,” she says softly, “what happened to your phenomenal immune system?”

There’s no response, not that she expected one. You were already quickly on your way to a fever-fueled dreamland.

—-

Kristie spends the morning with you snuggled into her, catching up on social media and then mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. Around lunchtime, she could no longer sit still, slipping out from under you.

She rewets the now warm washcloth, placing it back on your forehead and pulling the covers up to your chin. After making sure that the bin and a drink are within easy reach, she heads downstairs to eat lunch with the other girls.

The door to your room is propped open, a silent parade of eyes peeking in at you. You sleep somewhat soundly, blissfully unaware of all of the attention. In fact, you don’t fully regain consciousness until sometime after dinner.

Kristie has settled into the room for the night, already dawning her pajamas and climbing into her bed. It’s not really late enough for that, but the seating options are limited and she will not be having her outside clothes in her bed.

She’s sitting propped against the headboard, video chatting with Sam. It’s Sam who notices you first, alerting Kristie to your rapidly approaching, blanket-wrapped frame. She barely has time to look before you’re plopping yourself down on her bed, cuddling into her. Your half-open, fever-dazed eyes are looking at her phone where Sam is trying to hold your attention.

“Hey Ankle Biter!” she greets cheerfully in her Australian accent.

You can’t find the energy to verbally reply, but you manage to weakly wave a hand while blinking sleepily and yawning.

“Kris was just telling me that she had gotten you sick, which is such a Kris thing to do.”

You look up at Kristie when she says this, noticing the blush that appears on her face at her girlfriend’s teasing. She quickly plays it off with a small laugh.

“Do me a favor, yeah? When you’re feeling better, you do something to get back at her. Karma, and all that.”

Sam’s request gets the first genuine smile out of you all day. Kristie quickly spoils the fun, pulling you closer.

“No way, Y/N would never. She’s my little buddy, right?”

You simply shrug innocently at Kristie, watching as Sam laughs on the screen.

“You just remember who had to clean your puke bucket today, missy. I think that’s more than enough karma.”

You nod at Kristie’s remark. The two women continue their conversation, watching as your head slowly tips to rest fully on Kristie, your body relaxing into her.

Sam watches with a fond smile on her face as Kristie gently strokes your cheek with the back of a finger, lulling you into a hazy state. The two women whisper quiet good nights to you just as your eyes slip shut for the rest of the night.

On the other side of the world, Sam watches Kristie gently guide you into a restful sleep. Her face is wiped clean for the night, her hair pulled back messily and her pajamas are on. And Sam only has one thought, all consuming- she loves this woman so much that it hurts.

#uswnt woso #uswnt x reader #uswnt players #womens soccer #uswnt imagine #reader insert #woso x reader #woso imagines #uswnt imagines #woso imagine #uswnt reader #uswntsoccer #uswnt fanfic #woso fanfics #woso #woso soccer

222 notes · View notes

sirenjose · 7 months

Text

Hunter Norton Backstory Trailer Analysis

As a rule, the sons of miners follow the occupation of their fathers. Once Norton’s father died, and his mother also likely dead by then too, he had no other choice but to become a miner if he wanted to survive. Especially with how poor they likely were, Norton’s father (and mother) likely left almost nothing for their son, forcing him to work hard to support himself from a young age.

Based on Norton’s comment about living like a “rat” for 20 years, as he is 28 in the present, Norton’s father potentially died when he was 8 (his mother potentially died before then), leaving him an orphan.

A Mine Regulation Act in 1872 prevented children under the age of 12 from working underground. Until then, he would likely have been kept to surface work, such as:

Sorting and transporting materials

Loading and unloading transports

Assisting with general maintenance and cleaning

Delivering messages

Etc…

An Educational Act in 1870, which applied to England and Wales, made schooling compulsory for boys between the ages of 5 and 10, while an Act in 1872 applying to Scotland made school compulsory for kids between 5 and 13.

Once he reached the age of 12, the Regulation Act in 1872 would continued to limit his work hours, which prevented boys between 12 and 16 from working more than 54 hours in 1 week or 10 hours in 1 day. It also required them to have 8 to 12 hour breaks between “periods of employment” (defined as starting when they leave the surface and ending when they return to the surface).

Once he was old enough, regular miners were expected to work at least 12 hour shifts (though this varied from mine to mine) on weekdays. And we know from Norton’s deduction 2 that he worked longer than any of his coworkers, while his 3rd letter states, as a habit, he enters the mines at least 30 minutes before the others.

Conditions in the mine were hot, musty, and cramped (as mine owners didn’t want to spend extra to make them bigger), increasing the chance of accidents. We can actually see just how narrow the tunnels usually were in the trailer.

Miners also worked in complete darkness except for lighting they had to buy themselves. In fact, they had to buy much of their own equipment.

Unfortunately, wages for miners were incredibly low back then. Miners were paid by the quality of what they produced rather than by the hour, giving owners plenty of ways to reduce how they could pay their miner (including by lying about the quality or rigging the scales).

The average wage of coal miners in the 1880s was somewhere between 3s (s = shillings) and 5s per day, with around 4s being closer to the normal, and 5 only if you were lucky. 4 shillings was about $1.20. Generally though wages varied greatly in different districts. After spending on equipment, food, and rent, they could be left with maybe no more than 1s.

Going back to the trailer, it says “Blasting Agent – Mercury (II) Fulminate”. This is an explosive compound made from mercury, nitric acid, and ethanol. It was commonly used as a primary explosive in percussion caps and detonators during the 19th century. When struck or subjected to a shock, it would rapidly decompose and produce a violent explosion. Its role was to initiate the ignition or detonation of the main explosive charge, such as dynamite.

This is the stuff that we see him pouring into the dynamite.

Continuing, we see Norton smiling at a coin, but then his wrist is crushed by the other miners, who steal it from him, taunting him to try to take it back.

Norton actually smiling at the coin helps show Norton’s desire to get out of poverty, an idea he emphasizes later when he describes poverty as a “curse”.

But as we see in the Famitsu Article, people didn’t understand why he tried so hard. It “intimidated” them. Then in Norton’s 2nd letter as well as in this trailer, we see that he was ridiculed by his coworkers. They didn’t think it was possible for him to achieve such a goal. This is reflected with how essentially, at that time “Englishmen recognized if he is in a certain social grade, he is likely to remain there. He’ll never reach a higher class, and didn’t rebel”. Each class “cheerfully” accepted “the lot which providence has assigned” to them.

Norton was different though. He says in the trailer “I once thought the same” after it talks about sons of miners became miners themselves.

He may have initially accepted the same thing everyone else did, but things likely changed over time, the longer he was forced to live this sort of life.

There’s also a good chance part of his change was from working with people like Benny. He learns from them to improve himself (and hopefully improve his chance at earning more), but he also sees how these old miners are, which emphasizes in his brain he doesn’t want to end up like them. He doesn’t want to end up in hospice or stuck in poverty his whole life like they did, just waiting for the day they die.

Norton worked hard, harder and longer than everyone else, in the hopes eventually this would be enough to improve his life, to make it even slightly close to what most would consider a comfortable life, even if it meant only the basics. But it wasn’t enough. The mine owners were greedy. The other miners were all in it only for themselves. His wages were miniscule, and his daily and weekly expenses pretty great. Especially with how back in that time period, mine owners had ways where they attempted to keep their employees indebted to them, to force them to keep working for them, as well as improve their own personal profits as much as possible.

Norton was surrounded by these sorts of people forced to live in such a cruel environment, watching the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. This is reflected in his 2nd letter where he says “This is simply unfair. The poor find it difficult to lead a comfortable life, while all the rich need to do is wave their banknotes around”. He describes all the pain he’s gone through just at the chance to “climb up” out of poverty before describing “how much effort I put into this” as “ridiculous”.

His hard work is exemplified by his 3rd deduction, which describes how he’s done so well his employers always attempt (but fail) to keep him for longer. He works to learn, to improve his skills, and better himself at the chance at earning more and thus potentially work his way out of poverty faster.

We can also see it during the trailer, with him surrounded by all these books and other things.

This quality of his, where he likes to teach himself, to learn, and to improve himself has been implied at other points by Netease, such as by several of his skins or even from part of other collabs, like B.Duck, which described Norton as “full of curiosity” and “likes learning”. It also described him with a “desire to act at MAX” or “highest level of execution”. This means he’s the type of person to put all his effort into whatever he does.

It just wasn’t enough.

We even see the sort of suffering this life has forced him to endure, as in the trailer it shows him coughing due to the damage his lungs have suffered due to his life as a miner.

Hard work wasn’t enough. This is why he eventually turned to the list of 13 mines he learned from Benny, seeking to instead attempt to escape poverty by finding gold.

As explained by @metalIurgy and @Deskdeas, each of the names on this list are European mines or people.

(Also, there seems to be 15 names total on the list, rather than 13)

Von Donnersmarck: House of Donnersmarck, prominent aristocratic family that originated in the region of Silesia. Owned mines.

Georg Wilhelm: Russian military officer and engineer who specialized in mining

Prince Konstantin: prince of Russia, killed in a mining shaft

Ștefan Procopiu: physicist who researched electricity and magnetism

Friedrich Alfred Krupp: German industrialist, developed Krupp steel manufacturer and arms manufacturing company

Saarbergwerke: mining company that operated in the Saarland region of Germany

Romeria: religious pilgrimage (Spain or spanish speaking countries?)

Petro-pavlivska (''Петро-павлівська''): black coal mine located in the Eastern part of Ukraine

Nova Baňa: silver and gold mining site in central Slovakia.

Swansea Copper: Welsh copper mines

Eramet: French multinational mining and metallurgical company

Ivan Polzunov: Russian engineer known for his contributions to steam engine technology

Wowdcole: ?

(Sorry, I can't read the 15th name crossed out in the top left corner of the list)

We know from Norton’s 5th deduction that he tried and failed to find anything at any of the other 12 mines, leaving him with only Golden Cave left.

Back to the trailer, we see him with a map.

The left side looks like it should be a map of Lakeside and the surrounding area, with Golden Cave being the X at the base of the mountains. Count Barriere is the owner of this land, and also the owner of Golden Cave. The right side should be the representation of a map of the mine itself.

Considering how earlier Norton’s coworkers stole Norton’s coin, it’s possible they essentially tried to do the same thing here. Saw him looking at the map, then took it for themselves. Like how Norton’s 8th deduction includes “you need more helpers”, they may have forced him to take them along, and why they explore it on their own without Norton. Especially with the looks on their faces in that scene not showing they had any good intentions.

(A lot of what I’ll say next is said very well by @Yaboku_samaa)

Norton seems to have set all this up in advance, before they came through the mine.

Next we see Norton’s inner conflict. A conflict between morals and vengeance represented by survivor Norton vs Hunter Norton. His Hunter side manages to win out by telling Norton that this is what they deserve, it’s revenge for all the pain and ridicule he’s been put through, all in silence, all without fighting back. He’s forced to keep a façade. To keep his true feelings hidden if he doesn’t want a penalty or reduction in wages. He’s tired of having to live such a hard life of constant suffering and humiliation and hopelessness, and thus why he had hit his limit and the side represented by his Hunter version won out.

(I’m not going to push the idea too much, but it’s possible Norton may have bipolar disorder. That or DID, especially with how he literally talks to himself in his 2nd letter. Especially as both can form in children or young adults who experience long-term physical or emotional distress or abuse. Causes can include childhood trauma (like neglect, abuse, trauma, losing someone like a parent), stressful life events, genetics, etc…)

This decision is shown during the trailer when Norton says “There are ways to make a change”.

Norton’s 2nd letter does an accurate job of summarizing everything:

“Over the last 20 years, I lived like a rat in the gutter. I spent days under the ground in the dark just so I could earn a minimal living. Scars from the blasts crawled all over my face like maggots. The constant scorn and ridicule... I endured it every time just so I'd get a chance to climb up the ladder. It's ridiculous how much effort I put into this—anyway, I've finally managed to crawl out from the rat hole. I no longer have to pick and pull on the disgusting ash. Those who did nothing but laugh at me deserve to stay underground and be stepped on like maggots forever.”

And the trailer visually showing Norton’s inner conflict matches up very well with how quite clearly Norton in his 2nd letter is arguing with himself. The side represented by Hunter Norton is likely the version talking right now, trying to convince him (the side represented by Survivor Norton) to kill the female, “think about how arrogant she is” and all the money he’d get. The fact he is trying to convince himself shows that Norton doesn’t want to do it, and how he isn’t willing to do anything for money. His hatred for his coworkers for their treatment of him for so long was enough for the side represented by Hunter Norton to convince him to trigger the explosion on them, but that motivation doesn’t exist here. Right now, his less moral side is trying to motivative him with money and thinking about others as “arrogant” and essentially mean, as well as the doubt that she could do something to him.

But that may not be enough to convince him next time to actually do it if he’s given a chance. At Golden Cave, that was his last chance to try to find gold. He’d gone through 12 other mines (and 20 years of pain on top of that) with nothing to show for it. Norton may be very stubborn and determined, but even he was growing so very desperate, which is shown well by Norton’s 5th deduction as well as by the trailer itself. So it makes sense that Norton was mentally not in the right place and vulnerable to the sort of temptation we see him going through in the trailer.

Norton is alone. No family. No money. Suffering from lung problems. Has never been shown kindness and forced to grow up in a very cruel environment. The only thing keeping him moving forward and losing all hope is by focusing on his goal of getting out of poverty and achieving some form of a comfortable life with at least the basic necessities. This is shown very well by Norton’s 4th birthday emote “Savings”, where Norton takes out a single gold coin and thinks about simple worn clothes and a loaf of bread, while the description reads “Endure it, Norton. You’re almost there”.

For years he attempted to push on, but little by little, his coworkers, his employers, his environment, it all chipped away at him until he felt he had no other choice. I believe the trailer does a good job of emphasizing how his main motivation wasn’t greed but desperation, hopelessness, and the pain he was subjected to by his coworkers and everyone. It’s life or death, and this mine is his last chance, and his deep misery that pushes him over the edge, so it’s no wonder he doesn’t care about anyone anymore. He’s always been alone, always had to be the one to look out for himself. No one else could be trusted. They would only take advantage of him or even potentially steal what little he had. Yet even still he hesitated to pull the trigger, which I think says a lot about Norton.

Despite the decision being made, he doesn’t run after he sets off the explosion. He accepts what happens. There’s no way he didn’t know what was going to happen, not with how long he’s worked as a miner, and how much he’s learned in his own time. It could be the side represented by his survivor version sees the scar as punishment for his deeds. It could be he knew if he wanted to get his revenge he had to deal with the potential scars.

But he was here not just for revenge, but for the chance at finding gold. Hunter Norton’s character backstory says the accident brought Norton “Golden Luck” or “a gold rush of fortune”, so it sounds like he did find something.

We do know he at least found the meteorite, which is what he made his magnet from, so this could be what is referred to in Hunter Norton’s backstory.

Along with the above, we could connect whatever his “golden luck” was with Memory’s comment during Time of Reunion, where she says “they seemed to be looking for something other than ore”.

This is repeated during AoM with a newspaper clipping about rumors being false of precious metal ore in the mine.

Considering Golden Cave’s rumor is “despite not a single piece of gold was ever found, Count Barriere still got what he wanted with this land”, these statements should be talking about the same thing.

It’s possible Barriere was after the meteorite, especially as the only things we know that came out of that mine after it collapsed were Norton and the chunks of the meteorite he carried.

There are potential parallels from Lily’s essence, which connects to Golden Cave, and her essence story says “The mine is filled with special phosphorescent ores, which brought wealth to their ancestors but also cursed them with phosphorescent illness”. Considering in the famitsu article it says the magnet aka the meteorite may have been affecting his brain, it’s possible the “phosphorescent ores” is meant to parallel the meteorite.

If that is what Barriere is after, maybe there’s a chance he reached out to Norton afterwards, and he could’ve been the one to offer Norton all that money in exchange for killing some female. Especially when we know Count Barriere has a lot of money based on Lily’s backstory, as he even offered her enough to survive for 2 years and even more via making her the owner of the IOU likely belonging to Orpheus for him buying Oletus Manor.

Anyways, we also know from Norton’s 3rd letter that he “dug his way out through a mountain creek a few dozen meters away from the mine” with only “minor burns”. We also know from the Famitsu Article that people didn’t talk to him, they said a bare minimum then kept a “wide berth”, and considering the very visible scar on his face, it is possible this was the reason they avoided him (they were frightened of him. Like we see at the end of the trailer, it is possible people saw him as a “monster”, especially back then when these sorts of things weren’t treated or seen as kindly as today).

#idv #identity v #norton campbell #prospector #Fool's Gold #fools gold #Hunter Norton #idv norton #identity v norton #idv prospector #identity v prospector #idv fool's gold #identity v fool's gold #idv fools gold #identity v fools gold #idv hunter norton #identity v hunter norton #sirenjose analyses and theories

363 notes · View notes

enhastolemyheart · 1 year

Text

ℂ𝕌ℙ𝕀𝔻 — SIM JAEYUN

PAIRING | bsf!Jake x reader (fem implied)

GENRE | fluff, f2l

SYNOPSIS | This summer, you and your best friend Jake planned activities every Saturday. Being his turn, he picked archery, but it was actually his plan to do something you never expected.

WARNINGS | profanity, kissing, jake being a tease, playing a sport(?), proofread but lmk if any mistakes.

WORD COUNT | 1.5k+

A/N | hey everyone!! I decided to write a Jake fic cause I haven't written one yet. Also cause the latest ep Jake jus pulled at my heartstrings. I wanna say thank you so much for 50 followers!! Here's a little 'thank you' gift 🫶. Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!! Enjoy reading!!

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because my y/n, we did what you wanted last Saturday, and now it is my turn." He briefly glances at you, putting the car in park and turning off the engine. He gets out and opens the door for you. After you get out, you both make your way to the field that Jake, your best friend, rented for 6 hours.

This summer, you both actually planned to do activities that interests the other person every Saturday. Last week you both baked which was your choice. You made brownies which actually came out good, and you had them while marathon-ing a thriller series.

And for this week, he decided to do something related to the great outdoors. He's not going to lie, he initially thought hiking would suffice his idea but you for one, are not a hiker. You mean, you wouldn't mind hiking but you're incompetent at the sport.

So he decided to take the easier route for you and chose archery. You were actually interested. You took archery classes for a few months before the pandemic. But you had forgotten everything you learned. And now you were nervous to play, 'cause Jake was exceptionally good at archery.

You both make your way to the storage area where the archery and other equipment is situated. It was spontaneously windy and gloomy today. And the wind, as expected, is very cold. You fold your palms in front of you and try to blow some air into it. He looks at you before snickering, "cold?"

You hum and Jake shakes his head with a stern playful face on, "I told you that you should always wear gloves. We don't want your hands to freeze to death, do we? Whose hands am I going to hold if that happens hmm?" You mutter whatever under your breath despite your cheek feeling very hot, if he notices you were going to simply blame it on the strong weather. He scoffs before taking your hands in his, fingers interlaced, swinging it slightly between you both. You get the equipment needed like the bows and arrows (of course) stands for the target boards and then said targets.

You request to do a practice round first and your best friend obliges. When you see him shoot, you couldn't help but admire the way he focuses and plays the sport. His standee was jus like a professional, hands having a firm grip on the bow and arrow, elbow stiff and locked. You couldn't help but look at him in awe when he scores a 9. You also don't fail to notice the smug smirk plastered on his face, tongue sticking out just a bit. He punches the air before turning to you.

"Why don't you try now y/n?"

You give him a small nod before taking his position facing towards the target in the right stance. When you try and shoot, the power wasn't strong enough and the arrow only flies a few metres away from you. You place you head in your hands at the embarrassment, ear most likely tinted. He just giggle giddy-ly before coming closer to you, "let me help you, you're not shooting the right way."

He drops his bow on the ground before stepping behind you. "May I touch you, y/n?" Goosebumps run throughout your body. His voice was very close to your ears, indicating that he is standing very very close to you. You give him the green light and he plants his hands on the sides of your waist before twisting it gently to the right position, doing the same with your footing. You tells you aim the arrow at the target, pulling the string and keeping it there. He then adjusts your elbow. Your breath hitches as you feel his fingertips on your skin, feeling it's burning everywhere he touches.

After your position is set, you shoot and score a 7. Not bad for a beginner right? Jake immediately smiles even wider before giving you a high five. You giggle at him getting so hyped over you. You place a bet on whoever loses has to pay for dinner next time you have it together.

Time passes and you guys play head to head. Jake ends up ultimately winning, not that it surprised but it did In a way. You could just watch him play archery all day and all night.

He runs away from the target, punching the air in victory. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, his competitive spirit showing. He runs to you and flicks your forehead, causing you to growl at him, "you are buying me korean BBQ next time." His face defines the definition of smirks and smugness and it's just everywhere you don't know how to escape it.

"I'm tired Jake, let's lay on the grass." He agrees with a smile. You make your way to the centre of the field, laying side by side on your backs. Jake has one hand under his head for support and the other resting on his side. You have both hands interlaced and placed on your tummy.

You stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Your mind keeps going to the thought of how your life would be if Jake was yours. How you wake up next to him every morning and sleep next to him every night. How cooking together would feel like, focusing on making the food right but still goofing around. How shopping with him will be, being a fashionable ace, you know that whatever outfit he picks for you would make you feel very pretty and confident. You desire to do all the domestic things with him. How kissing him would feel, considering he somehow symbolises the looks of Adonis, the way he can simply make your ears burn and heart flutter within a millisecond. He knows the effect he has on you and he uses it to his advantage, unbeknown to you.

"You know I have to tell you something." Jake breaks the silence. You turn to your side facing him propping on your elbow "oh yeah? What is it?"

He reciprocates your posture before clearing his throat, "Whatever I'm about to tell you right now is something that I've been thinking about for a long time. And a long time being since freshman year.

Y/n, I like you. I like you alot. The way you light up at the smallest things that excite you. The way your eyes glisten when you talk about something you're passionate about," He takes your hand in his and rubs his thumb over your knuckles. "When we were playing truth or dare with a bunch of random ass people and you picked truth one time, you talked about how a perfect confession would go. You said that when you get confessed, it would should be just you and the person. And that he should take his time ranting about why they want you and why a relationship would be a good choice.

I kept thinking about that little moment ever since it happened, and it icked me to confess to you sooner and I wish I did; but the fear of losing you even as a friend scared me," He leans in closer to your face, "I want you y/n. I want you to be there with me when I wake and sleep, cook with, learn together, to grow together, only you and me. Me and you. You're my favourite person y/n, I love you my y/n not just 'like', please my y/n, will be my girlfriend?"

Tears prickle your eyes as you watch him finish something he wanted to say to you for a LONG time now. Jake gets scared at tour lack of your response and he starts to panic, "Of course y/n, you don't have to say yes, or take how much time you want before you decide to answer. I will understand if you don't even want be friends after this but please know that—"

You were too impatient as he kept rambling on and pulled him for a kiss. He freezes before you but then when his mind alerts him that you are kissing him, he immediately closes his eyes but the second he is able to kiss back, you pull away. "I love you too, you idiot. What took you so long, hmm?" You swat at his chest and he just chuckles, swooping in to kiss you. You put a hand on the side of his neck and his slides to the side of your waist, pulling you in even closer as if the proximity right now isn't enough.

"Fuck y/n I love you so fucking much." He says as he pulls away, lips still lingering. You giggle and tell him that you love him too. It was like he was his own cupid to your heart, archery being the arrows. He leans is gives another peck, causing to smile brightly, resulting in him smiling like you do.

"Round two of archery?" You question as you sit up and look at him. He just looks like a happy puppy when you state the offer.

"Hell yeah! Get ready to lose my y/n!"

A/N | thank you sm for reading!! It means alot to me!! Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!! Please do feel free to share ideas if you'd like. Requests are open and so is the taglist!! Thank you again for reading, and I'll see you in the next one!

PEACE AND LOVE <333

perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @wanna-live-yn-life ; @snoowhore ; @hsheart ; @hsgwrld (bold can't be tagged; send an ask to be added)

528 notes · View notes