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#BUT let it be known that i am very good at roasting marshmallows. the best in my family
bleh1bleh2 · 10 months
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S'mores !!!!
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nothingbutimagines · 3 years
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Everything You Want (Peter Parker)
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Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warning: Cursing, lots of fluff and cliches
Summary: When Y/n breaks up with her ex, she declares to her friends that she will never, by any means, fall in love again. To her surprise, Peter seems to take this as a challenge, trying to win her heart in a mere afternoon.  
Author: Dizzy
A/N: I was on a bit of an unexpected hiatus, but I am here to stay. School and quarantine was kicking my ass and my family is moving halfway across the country so things have been very hectic around here. But, with Falcon and the Winter Solider and me rewatching all the Marvel movies to cope with this wack ass time, I am feeling inspired.
Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist
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“That’s it!” You slammed your lunch tray down on the cafeteria table as you huffed and sat down beside MJ. “I’m done with men. I hate love. I’m over it.”
MJ looked over at you and sighed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t believe you, especially since the boy you’d broken up with was the boy you dated not even a week after swearing off men the last time. 
“What are you talking about?” Ned asked before receiving a swift kick from MJ.
“Don’t ask about it.” The girl replied through gritted teeth as she fully turned on the bench to face you. “Y/n, you know I love you, but I can’t help but think you’re being a little rash.”
“Rash?” You scoffed. “You wanna talk about rash? MJ, you broke up with Ethan Brooks in eighth grade because he accidentally stepped on your foot at the winter formal.”
“I know you’re just being harsh because you’re heartbroken, but let’s be real, Y/n, you don’t hate love.” 
“Yes, yes I do. I’m never, ever, ever going to fall in love. I’m not even going to think about it. I now will live in a world of tragedy and heartbreak because love does not exist.”
You stabbed your fork into your mac and cheese aggressively. Maybe MJ was right, you thought, you might have been being a little harsh and you were very heartbroken. 
You had the unfortunate curse of being a romantic, loving the idea of love and anything having to do with a good rom-com. You couldn’t help but fall in love with everyone you’d ever had a romantic moment with. You just loved the experience that came with being in love. 
However, now sitting heartbroken and eating your feelings in mac and cheese, you really really didn’t like the idea of falling in love and would have rather fallen off the face of the earth than like another boy.
MJ sighed heavily, reading your body language and knowing you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and watch a sad movie. 
“Y/n, I know you’re sad, but look on the bright side, you have more time to hang out with us. We’re going to the movies after school today.” 
You looked between your three friends, smiling shyly. “Thanks, guys, but I really just feel like being alone.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n.” Peter sighed, giving you a nudge with his foot. “I know you secretly want to pig out on popcorn and see that new horror movie.” 
“I don’t think so, Peter. I really don’t feel good.” 
Peter pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, Bug, come on. You blew me off last week to go out with Brad and we’re best friends. You owe me one.” 
“I thought we were best friends.” Ned spoke up, earning another swift kick from Peter. “Ow! What is with you guys and abusing me?” 
You smiled, rolling your eyes at your friends. Especially at Peter, who seemed serious enough to use the only face you couldn’t resist and a nickname that always seemed to keep your attention on him. 
“I’ll think about it.” You caved, taking another bite of your food. 
“Don’t think. Just say yes.” 
“Are you seriously going to be pushy right now, Parker?” You raised a brow at him. “I am heartbroken. Sick with sadness.” 
“I’m just saying, the best way to get over someone-”
“Is to get under someone.” Ned stated proudly, cutting Peter off. 
“Ew, no!” Peter gave Ned a light shove. “I was going to say that the best way to get over someone is to be around people who care about you.”
“Or burning his personal belongings before he asks for them back.” MJ added, stealing a fork full of your mac and cheese. “We could always burn Brad’s stuff and roast marshmallows over it.” 
“I like MJ’s idea way better than going to the movies.” You agreed, pointing to the girl beside you while you locked eyes with Peter.
“We’re not going to burn his stuff!” Peter exclaimed as MJ frowned. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to burn someone else’s property and we already made plans to go to the movie.”
“Well, damn.” You frowned. “Now look who’s being harsh.” 
MJ began to chuckle beside you as Peter began to frown. 
“Harsh would be me forcing you to go to the movie.”
“Oh yeah, and badgering me to go isn’t forcing me right, Peter?” You raised a brow at him as you finished the last of your meal. 
“At least I’m asking and not physically forcing you to go.”
“That is true.” You shrugged. “I guess I’ll come, but if I am having a terrible time, you have to take me home.”
“Always.” Peter smiled, nodding as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “It’ll be fun, Bug. I swear.” 
You shrugged, squeezing the boy’s hand as the bell rang loudly. You pulled away quickly, catching a glance at your now ex-boyfriend and the girl attached to his arm as he walked past your table. You cleared your throat, corralling your things together as you rose from your spot on the bench. 
“I’ll-I’ll, uh, see you guys later. I’ve got to get to Chem. I can’t be late again or I’ll get a detention.” You stammered, feeling the tears prick at your eyes as you pulled your books in your arms. 
“Let me walk with you.” Peter offered, noticing the sudden change in your mood as he rose from his seat and rounded the table to where you stood. “I have to get to Bio next door anyway.”
You nodded silently, surprised when you felt Peter’s hand press lightly against the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd in silence. 
“You know, Bug, it’s okay to say things aren’t okay.” He finally said as you made it into the outer corridor of the cafeteria. 
You bit your lip at his words, holding back the tears as you glanced over at him so he could finally see your eyes and cheeks red with pent up feelings.
“I’m fine.” You choked out, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. 
Peter pulled you aside, out of the way of the walking students. His eyes, you could see as he rested his hands on your shoulders and forced you to look at him, were full of concern.
“I know you’re not. You want to talk about it?”
You couldn’t help it, the warmth and care in his brown eyes caused your tears to begin to fall as your hand shot up to wipe them quickly.
“You must think I’m pathetic.” You laughed uncomfortably as you spoke, “I’m crying over some stupid boy and you have to watch.”
Peter shook his head, his expression clearly showing the confusion in his mind as he looked at you. 
He never found you pathetic nor would he ever. On the contrary, he found you to be the most amazing person he’d had ever known, and not just because you were best friends. Watching you cry, he realized something he’d never wanted to take a good hard look at. 
You were the girl he’d always wanted to be with and you’d always kept him on the sidelines. You were everything he’d ever wanted and yet you always kept him as the best friend, the shoulder to cry on, the boy who often kept you afloat. 
For a girl so in love with romance and cliches, you’d never realized how much of a walking cliche the two of you were. 
Not that Peter was upset. He would never be upset by that, especially when you still allowed for him to be so close by your side. 
“Oh, Y/n.” He pulled you into a hug after giving you a moment to clean yourself up. “I would never think you were pathetic. You’re the best person I know.” 
You sniffed, bringing your arms around him to embrace him back before pulling away and looking up at him. 
“You really think so?”
“I know so.” He gave you a shy smile as he glanced down at you.
Your eyes traveled from gazing into his and looking to the spot on his shirt that you had now stained with tears and mascara.
“Even if I stained your nice white shirt with my make up?”
Peter pulled away, looking down at the shoulder of his shirt as he tugged at it to see the stain better. He sighed, chuckling lightly as he looked at you with a smile as warm as the look in his eyes. 
“I have other shirts. I didn’t really like this one, anyway.” 
“Peter, that’s your favorite one.” 
Peter shrugged, letting go of the fabric between his fingers as he looked at you, wiping away the last remaining tear that clung to your cheekbone. “I’ll just have to find a new favorite then.”
You swallowed a bit, your hand reaching up and resting on his wrist as you smiled shyly, sudden feeling nervous. 
“I should probably get to class.” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Peter’s hand fell from your face quickly as he became aware of the new energy between you two. 
“Yeah, yeah.” He cleared his throat harshly. “I should get going too.”
You nodded, allowing for silence to fall between you two as you quickly rushed to class, giving him a small wave before walking into the classroom. 
The rest of the day felt uneventful and monotone with spurts of sadness and confusion here and there. You could feel the heartache of your breakup settle in every once in a while, especially in moments in which you let your mind wander while watching your ex-boyfriend now flirt with the girl beside him.
When your mind wasn’t wandering with thoughts of pain and heartbreak, it was full of thoughts of Peter and the moment you shared in the hallway. 
It wasn’t that you’d never had a moment like that with Peter before, you’d had plenty of moments in which he comforted you while you were upset and visa versa. You were best friends, of course you’d have your fair share of comforting moments, such as the time when you spent a week at Peter’s house after his uncle passed away. 
However, while you sat in class with your pen between your lips as you watched and counted down the minutes to the bell ringing,  you couldn’t shake the feeling that that moment in the hallway meant something more to you. 
As the bell finally rang, you practically ran out of the classroom and into the hall, only to run into the person you were looking for. 
You feel backwards and onto the floor, slightly shocked by your bottom hitting the ground as Peter’s hand shot out towards you as he bent over. 
“Shit, Y/n, you okay?” He asked as you grabbed his hand and allowed for him to help you up. 
You dusted yourself off before picking up your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 
“What were you running for?”
“I was, uh, looking for you. We’re supposed to go to a movie, right?”
Peter nodded, starting to walk towards the front entrance of the school, his hands shoved into his pockets as you walked closely beside him. 
“Are you feeling better?” He asked after the silence between you felt too heavy for him to bear. 
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I could really feel better while having to see my newly ex flirt with another girl not even 24 hours after our breakup.”
“I’m sorry, Bug.”
“It’s not your fault.” You shrugged, kicking a rock that sat on the sidewalk in front of you. “He can do what he wants. He’s a single man now.” 
“I wouldn’t call him much of a man.” Peter admitted, taking a look in your direction.
You kicked the rock again as you approached it, watching it bounce and tumble down the sidewalk and into the grass. 
“Are MJ and Ned going to meet us at the theater or what’s the plan?” You asked, trying to derail the conversation from the topic you had no interest in rehashing.
Peter pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck before putting it back in his pocket. He should’ve known you’d ask about the other two people who were supposed to be in attendance to your evening out. 
“MJ had to go to detention since she’s behind on her sketchbook work for art class. You know how she is, likes to draw people in detention for whatever reason. And Ned went home sick after lunch. He made the mistake of eating the meatloaf.” He lied, surprised he thought of something believable off the top of his head. 
In reality, he paid MJ twenty dollars to refrain from going to the movie and to lie about her whereabouts, something she never had trouble at doing, and he promised Ned that he’d spend the rest of the weekend helping him build another Star Wars lego model even though Peter wanted to grow out of the habit of playing with legos. 
You frowned a bit, having hoped you could’ve had some much needed girl time with MJ and wanting the funny commentary and banter of Ned during a movie that would normally terrify you. 
“Oh. Well, that sucks, but it’s okay. At least we’re still going together.” You raised your frown into a slight smile. 
Silence fell between you once again, leaving the only audible sound to be the wind and your heels hitting the ground in unison as you walked towards the movie theater. 
“Don’t worry about paying tonight. It’s my treat.” Peter stated as the theater came into view on the horizon. 
“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to.” 
“No, I want to. Just let me treat you to a night out. I feel bad that you’ve been having a rough day, so it’s the least I could do.”
You reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks before you engulfed him into a hug with your arms tight around his neck and your perfume filling his nostrils. 
“Peter Parker, you are truly my best friend and the love of my life.” You announced proudly, not realizing that the words warmed Peter in a way he’d never experienced before.
“I love you too, Y/n, but I cannot breathe with you choking me out like this.” He said softly, pretending to wheeze as you pulled away, giving him a shove.
“You are so dramatic.” You chuckled, starting to walk down the sidewalk once again. 
“I’m dramatic?” Peter scoffed as he jogged to keep up with you. “Aren’t you the theater nerd?”
“Doesn’t mean you’re not also a drama queen.” 
“I’ll have you know, I am very good at keeping my cool.”
“Tell that to Flash Thompson and your little rivalry.”
“Flash is an asshole.” 
“I’m not saying he isn’t,” you argued, “all I’m saying is that you get a bit dramatic with him. I like to think he’s secretly in love with you.” 
“Ew, gross.” Peter shook his head. “Flash is the last person I’d want a dramatic romance with.” 
“I think Flash is the last person anyone wants to have a romance with.” You laughed.
Peter was glad that it seemed your spirits were lifting as you finally made it to the theater. He could feel his own spirits lifted by your bettering mood which left him not needing to worry as much. 
He didn’t know whether it was the elation in mood he was feeling between the two of you or the instinctive urge to keep you close and protected that had him reaching for your hand as he opened the door to the theater to let you in first, but as you walked through the corridor, he grabbed it without thought or hesitation. 
You didn’t know what possessed him to grab your hand either, but you found yourself refraining from questioning it, wanting to feel the warmth and caring touch of someone else. Though your spirits were lifted a bit, you still felt lonely deep down. 
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, glancing down at you as he grabbed the tickets from the girl at the ticket counter and began to guide you towards the snack bar. 
You nodded, unsure of what to say as Peter continued to watch you closely. You held your breath, suddenly nervous with his eyes on you before you were saved by his eyes travelling to view the menu far above your head. 
“I’m thinking we get a large popcorn and two sodas.” He thought out loud as you frowned. “Unless, that’s not what you want?”
You blinked, shaking your head quickly as you spoke. “No, no, sorry. I got lost in thought. That sounds fine. I’m not that hungry, though.” 
“How are you not hungry? You ate two bites of mac and cheese at lunch and then pushed it around on your tray.”
You shrugged, pulling your hand from his and crossing your arms over your chest. You were somewhat building up an appetite, but every time you did, you suddenly felt sick by your own intrusive thoughts about your heartache and break up with a boy you knew you shouldn’t have been crying over. 
“I guess I’m not really in the mood to eat too much.” You finally said. 
“Well, I’m still getting the large and if you ask for any, I won’t give you some. You already said no.” Peter teased. 
“Oh, you would never say no to me.” 
“You wanna bet?” Peter raised a brow as you reached the front of the short line. 
“I’ll bet you a bag of overpriced M&M’s.” 
“I thought you weren’t hungry.” 
“I am always hungry for M&M’s.”
Peter smiled with a light eye roll. “Alright, but you can’t eat any until we determine who won.” 
“Deal.” 
You smiled as he turned away from you, ordering your snacks and you began taking each one from him before he carried the popcorn and his drink and you carried your own drink and the bag of M&M’s you were so excited to win. You watched your feet fall to the ground to his in unison as you two stayed silent, trying to navigate the hallway for the theater your movie was in.
“Hey, Peter?” You caught the boy’s attention as he walked through the open door of your theater, a fistful of popcorn in his hand as he looked at you. 
“Yeah?” He began walking backwards as he faced you and tossed the popcorn into his mouth.
“Can I have some popcorn?” 
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded as he spoke through his mouthful of popcorn and held the bucket out to you. 
You began laughing, taking a few pieces of popcorn and popping them into your mouth. 
“Why are you laughing?” Peter asked as you were giggling beside him now following him up the stairs of the theater before looking down at his bucket. “Oh. I guess you can have those M&M’s after all.” 
“We just made this bet! How’d you forget already?” You chuckled, walking past him and into an aisle, picking the perfect seat in the middle of the theater. 
“I-I don’t know! I got so involved in the popcorn I forgot.” 
“I guess that’s one way of saying you want to marry a food item.” You teased as he rolled his eyes and took a seat beside you. 
“You know, I’m not going to get mad cause you’re going through it, but when you’re over it, I will get you back for this.” 
“How? You’re already a victim of premature Alzheimer’s. You won’t remember this by the time I get a new boyfriend.”
You reached over, grabbing a handful of popcorn and beginning to eat the pieces one by one as you watched Peter closely. 
“You know, sometimes I hate you.” 
“No, you don’t.” 
“How would you know?”
“Cause you don’t even have a mean bone in your body. Flash bullies you mercilessly and you don’t even say anything back.” 
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” You shook your head. “It makes you a good guy. And we need good guys in this world.”
“You think I’m a good guy?”  Peter raised his brow as you nodded wildly at him.
“Of course I do.” You leaned over, placing a hand on his. “You’re not just a good guy, but a guy too good for this world, you know? You deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.” 
Peter leaned in close to you. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard that.” 
You could feel your breath hitch as he leaned in, his face a few mere inches from yours. It wasn’t that you were scared, but nervous at your excitement at the thought of him kissing you. 
Peter could feel your anxious energy as he leaned in close, the urge to kiss you in the way he’d always wanted to growing strong as he moved his head so your lips were lined up to his ear. It wasn’t that he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to take advantage of your loneliness in that moment. 
You leaned in close to his ear, your nostrils now full of his shampoo as you spoke softly. “I said that I thought you were such a great guy that you deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you.” 
“You mean that?” He answered back, his voice as soft as your own.
He did dare lean back or move his head from the position it was in for fear that he’d kiss you so soon. The words you were saying were ones he always wanted you to say, but never thought would come out. He wanted to be everything you ever wanted, but your words now felt somewhat short yet so close to that sentiment. 
“Of course I do.” You replied, your own urge to kiss him rising steadfast in the back of your mind. 
You couldn’t tell if it was your loneliness or the sudden dimming of the theater lights that had you realizing that all you wanted was to cross the line of friendship with Peter, a line you never realized was made to be crossed when it came to your friendship. 
Every touch, every sweet nothing, every thing about him you loved began to swirl around in your mind as you pulled away from him and gazed into his eyes before planting your lips on his, pushing him back into the armrest of his seat. 
Peter was shocked by the gesture as he leaned into the kiss, his hands resting on your cheeks before you pulled away from him breathlessly. 
“Y/n, I-”
“Peter.” You cut him off before giggling. “Go ahead.” 
“Bug, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you and your feelings about your breakup even though I really like you and-” 
You cut the boy off with another kiss, not wanting to hear what he had to say. You knew he was going to give you some speech about how you might not know what your feeling and so on, but you didn’t care. You knew that you kissed him and you liked it and that it felt more right than any date with Brad. 
You pulled away, putting a hand over his mouth before he could speak as you began to instead. “Peter, I know how I feel. I like you too, okay? Now, can we just take advantage of the fact we’re some of the few people in here and just hang out?”
Peter nodded, pulling your hand off of him. “I think I’d like that.”
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pascalpanic · 3 years
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Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino
Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.
W/C: 3K
Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)
A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!
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Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.
As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.
“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.
The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying.  “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.
Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.
He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”
Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.
Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”
You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”
You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.
Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”
“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”
Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.
-
You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00  to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?
What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.
Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.
“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.
You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”
Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.
You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.
The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.
Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”
Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”
You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.
Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”
Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”
He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.
“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”
“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.
“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.
Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.
You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.
He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”
You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.
Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.
“Then eat.”
The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”
That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”
Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.
You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.
A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can’t pay.
Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.
Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.
You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”
“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.
“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”
Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”
Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.
He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.
“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”
Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”
“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”
Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.
You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.
His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”
“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.
“I like you a lot.”
Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.
“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.
“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”
Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?
“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.
“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.
You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.
You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.
“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.
Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.
“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”
“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.
Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”
“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.
“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.
“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.
“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”
“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”
She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”
“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.
Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.
“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.
Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -
taglist:
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wisherbysharlight · 4 years
Text
WHAT IF... SANDERS SIDES BUT MAKE IT A TROPEY TEEN BEACH AU
Endgame!LAMP. Dukeceit, Remile
Just 2k stream of consciousness words from a plunny that grew legs TW for v slight underage drinking, one joking mention of violence, and a non-specific discussion of intrusive thoughts
-Janus has just moved there because his parents wanted to start a new "adventure" and he is a Stereotypical Teenager. Very "ugh MOM I wanna go back to my FRIENDS for my LAST SUMMER BEFORE COLLEGE"(most of his friends suck. He should not spend time with them. He does not know this)
His Parents buy him a surfboard and tell him to try it out as a way to get him to Shut Up
Hes a Skater Boy(cue music) so he picks it up super fast from like,,, youtube videos
 -He gets told to Get a Job if he wants to like, keep buying surf gear?
All the local kids work at like one restaurant/yacht club type place right on the beach
Janus gets hired as a host
 -Logan is a beach badge checker, Patton, Roman, and Remus are beachfront restaurant waiters but Roman just Really Wants To Surf, Emile and Virgil are Lifeguards, and Remy is a bartender
 -Janus is Very Good At Customer Service because Fake Smiles
Patton recognizes this Immediately
He shows him the Rage Closet which is a tiny room with an arm chair that locks from the inside where you can punch a pillow on your break when it gets to be Too Much
-Janus is Attached now and there is no getting rid of him
Patton Fully Endorses this and introduces him to the rest of the group
Janus Knows Immediately that LAMP is In Love but says nothing because he aint no snitch
-Remus surfs, but he also always wear a thong while doing it
Roman wears a full wetsuit and somehow still gets Board Rash. Remus is somehow immune and it infuriates him
 -Janus, not knowing that the twins live right on the beach cuz they are RichTM: Hey Ree I kinda wanna learn how to surf would you be able to teach me 
Remus, who religiously watches Janus surf every morning, but is absolutely willing to play this game: Yeah absolutely
Patton, later: “lets rinse off at the twins they’re right here” Janus: theyre.... What?!
 -Meanwhile, elsewhere, Virgil and Roman are double teaming Logan to drag him into the water with them cuz he’s pouting about losing a debate with their manager about how he didn’t really be mean to the dudebro who wanted to get his buddies onto the beach without paying, he was just enforcing the rules. And if the dude was so offended by Logan’s Very Accurate Dragging that he complained to management then, well, that’s his problem not Logan’s
 -Logan is never without a book. Ever. And its always a different book. Janus is starting to think he owns a library
One day he is just... reading a Physics textbook. Not taking notes or anything. Just reading. 
Roman is Very Very Alarmed by this because he is Gay and Math is Scary
"Roman I'm also gay that is not a determining factor"
"Yeah but you can't drive"
"...fair"
 -the first time janus has a shift with the twins, he cant stop staring, not just because hes like,,, super attracted to Remus but also because they are like Chaos Incarnate and yet somehow get the most tips??? He doesn't understand???
It's just cuz they are both Huge Flirts and Flatterers and the patrons dont care that they're not-so-subtly beating the shit out of each other right there on the dining floor because theyre just so charming
 -one of the bartenders gets aggressively snapped at by a customer and called "sweetheart" and before Janus can even begin to react Remy is there, sunglasses off, fire in his eyes, telling them to settle their bill and get the fuck out
Janus, used to City Restaurants- "Wont you get in trouble with the owner?!"
Remy, who knows Nothing Else But This- "What?? Not likely I only did it cuz Thomathy wasnt here to do it himself"
 -the restaurant is closed Monday and Tuesday so that is the Pseudo Weekend for the staff where everyone hangs out at the beach
Emile and Virgil take Tuesdays off but still work Monday’s cuz they feel better being the one watching over their friends
 -Roman, staring at Virgil on the lifeguard stand: ugh he’s so pretty I almost wish I was drowning just so he could give me cpr 
Janus: you wanna potentially get your ribs broken just for lip contact? 
Remy, staring at Emile on the lifeguard stand: listen, if that’s what it takes, I’ll take it
Remus, immediately going up to the lifeguard stand because he has 0 impulse control: hey my brother and cousin want you to break their ribs 
Virgil and Emile: excuse me?????
 -Patton will literally spend hours in the water. Logan physically drags him out to put sunscreen on him every two hours to the minute. Patton does not admit that he purposely "forgets" just so Logan will do so
Logan is Dark and has never used sunscreen ever but Patton is so pale and he just gets so concerned about him. Patton thinks its adorable
He has pages of research on proper spf determination.
Roman and Remus use spf 15 just on their faces and have never once burned in their lives
Logan wants to submit them for scientific study because that shouldnt be possible
Virgil calls Logan out on the fact that he also should be wearing sunscreen and Logan like... blue screens he cant believe in all his research he missed that
 -Patton is like... a ridiculously strong swimmer. Virgil still has a heart attack every time he goes for laps when there is the slightest hint of an undertow
Patton Knows This so he tries to stay in Virgil's sight line for the most part if there is an undertow. Or just dives over the waves again and again.
His nickname is Ariel. He thinks its just cuz of the swimming and the fact hes a red head. LAP all separately also tack on that its the swimming, the red hair, and the hnng pretty 10/10 would follow out to sea ala Prince Eric
 -first beach bonfire Janus goes to Remy is Fully In Emile's Lap like... half an hour in
he has had like maybe a sip of a beer
Remus says he still claims this is because he is a Clingy Drunk
no one will call him on it, least of all Emile
 -there is truth or dare. Roman may or may not skinny dip you have no proof
 -Logan gets infuriated that he cannot roast a marshmallow properly
Patton does it perfectly every single time but its ok cuz he shares and Logan eats it right from his fingers and Roman and Virgil are just in the background Trying and Failing not to be the Most Jealous
Patton thinks theyre upset they didn't get marshmallows and makes some for them too and there is lots of Significant Eye Contact involved
Janus is going to spontaneously combust if they don't get their shit together
 -Janus is out walking on the beach one night on a full moon cuz he cant sleep with everything so quiet around here when he sees a bright green patch out in the water and goes ...wait
he calls out to Remus and he comes into shore and is like "waves are perfect at night you should join me" so janus goes back and gets his board and they surf and chat for like the entire night
Janus finds out Remus couldn't sleep cuz intrusive thoughts were keeping him awake
Janus listens and doesn't judge, just lets Remus talk it out
They go back to shore and fall asleep on the sand next to each other like mid sentence still talking, now about whatever creative business idea Remus had, and get woken up by Logan's morning rounds like "come on guys you know you're not allowed to sleep out here" but they dont care theyre both just *blushing emoji*
-Logan Always Has A Notebook right? And a regular book he reads. And everyone assumes they are like Notions and Observations, but no, it’s actually blank paper and he uses it to sketch and then one day he leaves it behind and someone either Virgil or Patton finds it and flips through it and it’s all sketches of them and Roman and they’re like??? Actually really good? Anyway that’s how they find out Logan is actually minoring in art even though he’s majoring in something Very STEM 
And he never told his best friends because like almost all his pre college art is Them and he doesn’t want to be caught having Feelings and by the time it gets to college it’s been too long and he can’t tell them now 
Roman takes one of the sketches of him surfing and makes it his profile picture on All Social Media He Has and Logan is so flustered he nearly breaks his damn phone
Patton is so offended he didn’t get invited to Logan’s first showcase that he doesn’t talk to him for like two whole hours 
Virgil quietly asks if there is any art of all four of them, finds out there is, and makes a print and keeps it on his bedside table
 -They are all Pining Outwardly Now and its Worse
 -Remus : you have known them since pre-k please ask them out I beg of you 
Roman: You just dont get it 
Remus: I asked Janus out after 4 weeks what is your problem
 Emile: Virgil, I love you, you are my Partner in Anti-Drowning but you are so stupid 
Virgil: What???? All I said is that you and Remy are really cute and I'd love to be in a relationship like that 
Emile: I am not a violent person, Virgil, but I have the strong urge to smack you
 Patton, in the Rage Closet: They're all just so hOT and ReSPEctFUL 
Janus, waiting for his turn, trying to act like he cant hear him: I Am Looking Elsewhere
 Logan: I just don't understand why they were more upset that I didn't tell them than that I'd been making art of them for years?? Shouldn't that second part be worse??
Remy, who has been partial to Every Single One Of AMP Waxing Poetic About Logan: Yeah, no idea /s
 -the twins get into a surfing competition as a pair and everyone goes to see them and support them
Thomas airs the competition on every tv in the restaurant cuz he’s Proud of his Bois
They WIN cuz they are Creative and Talented and came up with all sorts of crazy tricks while they were fucking around in the water but it earns them Major Bonus Points for originality
 -Roman does the run off the podium and into Love’s arms trope with just like... whoever’s closest lets go Patton because he is a Waif and forced himself up front so he can see
The other two are Devastated because well shit but then Roman pushes through the crowd, still holding Patton’s hand, and gives them this smile and is like “remember in like second grade when we said we’d do everything together and made a pact on this beach”
Analogical: uhhhhhh yeah
Roman: holding you both to it. No take backs. This counts. Now kiss me, dammit, we WON and they DO MANY TIMES AND ITS REAL CUTE
 -Meanwhile dukeceit have Mysteriously Disappeared and No One wants to be the ones to go find them. They show back up, eventually. Janus has a branch in his hair and remus' hair is sticking straight up and when he opens his mouth roman glares at him and tells him in no uncertain terms that they do not want to know
 AnYWaY these are my children and I will gladly answer any questions about them. I left out Janus Backstory and Creativitwins Angst and Many Individual LAMP Scenes and Remile/Dukeceit getting together and Epilogue but can absolutely provide such things on request
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chemicalcindercat · 3 years
Link
"What?" That was not what Lydia had expected. She had thought they would both sleep on the air mattress, and... maybe even snuggle a little. "No, no, I couldn't possibly make you sleep on the floor!" Lydia said. "Can't you just sleep in the bed with me?"
Beetlejuice gasped. "Lydia...I-I don't think you get what that-"
He was interrupted by Lydia leaning up and pressing her lips to his.
Chapters: 1 (1,303 words)
Fandom: Beetlejuice (mostly based on the 1989 cartoon, but can be read for the movie or musical as well)
Rating: T (Mild innuendos)
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia, Beetlebabes
Additional Tags: Love confessions, camping, storms, thunder & lightning, cuddles, fluff, Beetlejuice cartoon, Older Lydia AU
Boom. Crash.
The thunder rumbled as the rain poured down, causing the small tent Lydia was in to shake violently. She sat on an air mattress, hugging her knees to her chest. Never before had a storm scared her. In fact, storms usually calmed her. Lydia was a woman who could see the beauty in dark things, in things most people usually hated, and storms were no exception. Usually she'd relax and fall asleep to the sound of thunder, and the next day simply enjoy the smell of the rain. However, this was Lydia's first time camping, and she wasn't sure how sturdy the tent would be.
Earlier that week, Lydia had been invited to go on a camping trip with some of her friends at school, but they got sick at the last second and canceled. By the time Lydia found out, she had already bought the supplies to go camping, so Beetlejuice decided he would take her camping so she wouldn't be wasting anything. When they arrived, he taught her how to set up the tents, and got the campfire started. They had made roasted marshmallows, (Lydia roasting hers to a light golden brown, with Beetlejuice stuffing beetles into his and then burning them,) and made smores. Then, about 20 minutes after they called it a night, the storm came.
Part of Lydia desperately wanted to go wake Beetlejuice up. She needed company, and he was a tent away. But lately, Lydia had felt strange around Beetlejuice. She had always loved Beetlejuice, and she always would. After all, she had known him since she was a young teen. But Lydia's love for the Ghost With the Most had lately blossomed into something more. Beetlejuice was her best friend, but Lydia wanted him to be more. Now that she was an adult, she couldn't help but fall in love with her BJ all over again, in a completely different way. Lydia wanted nothing more than to go wake Beetlejuice up and tell him once and for all how she felt. So, that's exactly what she did.
Well, what she tried to, at least.
Lydia unzipped the door to her tent and stepped out into the rain, searching in the dark for her flip flops. Once she had them on, she trudged over to her best friend's tent and (kind of) knocked on the side. A few seconds later, the zipper was being undone and she was pulled inside of the tent.
"Babes? What's up?" Beetlejuice asked, looking at the soaked woman in confusion.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't wake you up, did I?" Lydia asked, nervously.
"No, no, of course not! I couldn't really sleep from this storm we're having. Thunderstorms, ya know I hate 'em."
"Oh, okay, good." Lydia said, relieved she hadn't disturbed him. "I...I couldn't really sleep either...I-I…" She looked up at him, squinting in the dark. "B-Beej...Could I sleep with you tonight? In here?"
After a few seconds of hesitation, Beetlejuice responded. "Of course, Babes! Here, let me get you some clothes to borrow, you're soaked!" Lydia smiled, content. She blushed a little at the thought of wearing Beetlejuice's clothes, but it was dark enough Beetlejuice would never know. Beetlejuice shuffled around until he found some dry, clean clothes to hand to her.
"Here, I'll turn around." Beetlejuice said, turning so he wouldn't see anything he wasn't supposed to. Once Lydia was done changing, Beetlejuice blushed madly. Seeing her in his clothes was very hot, and Beetlejuice had to remind himself that Lydia was completely off limits.
"You can sleep on the air mattress, Lyds, I'll take the floor."
"What?" That was not what Lydia had expected. She had thought they would both sleep on the air mattress, and... maybe even snuggle a little. "No, no, I couldn't possibly make you sleep on the floor!" Lydia said. "Can't you just sleep in the bed with me?"
Beetlejuice gasped. "Lydia...I-I don't think you get what that-"
He was interrupted by Lydia leaning up and pressing her lips to his.
Beetlejuice was shocked, to say the least. He definitely wasn't expecting that. True, he had been gaining feelings for Lydia lately, stronger feelings than before, but he knew he couldn't act on it. It would be way too creepy. After all, he had known her since she was a kid! And now that she was all grown up, and beautiful…
Beetlejuice had fallen badly.
Lydia had tried to prepare herself for every possible outcome of her kissing Beetlejuice, but she really hadn't expected him to kiss back. She put her hands behind his back and pulled him closer, trying to deepen the kiss, but he gently grabbed her hands and pushed her away.
A few moments of silence passed, as Lydia waited for him to say something, anything. She shouldn't have kissed him, what if he didn't like her like that? What if he thought she was still just some annoying kid? It was really worrying Lydia that she couldn't see his facial expression in the dark to see if she offended him or not.
Finally, he spoke up.
"Babes...I…" Beetlejuice struggled to find the right words. "I can't…"
"You...You don't like me like that?" Lydia asked, willing her voice to stay steady. "A-am I not good enough?"
"No Lyds! No, I swear it's not like that." Beetlejuice exclaimed, grabbing her hands. "I do like you like that, in fact I love you! But… You can't possibly want this. It'd be wrong. I've known you since you were still a kid, I'm way too old for you! It's wrong…" Beetlejuice said sadly. Lydia gently put her hand on his cheek and rubbed it, giving him a soft smile.
"BJ, I understand where you're coming from. It's true, you have known me since I was a kid. But I'm an adult now. If you were hitting on me as a kid, now that would be inappropriate. But I'm grown up now, I can make my own choices. And you know what?" Lydia looked him right in the eyes. "I choose you." She said softly, just loud enough for him to hear over the storm. "I know what I want, and it's you. And...I haven't really had any serious relationships with anyone, or...you know, gone all the way before, but out of all the people I know, you're the one I trust the most. Now please, will you sleep with me?"
Beetlejuice's heart melted at her words. He knew that Lydia was the most stubborn person he knew, and she would never give up on him if this was truly what she wanted. And if Beetlejuice was being honest with himself, she already said she trusted him, now he needed to show her that he trusted her. Maybe Beetlejuice would have been able to turn her down again if the look in her eyes weren't so desperate for love, but they were, and they drew him in. Before he knew it, he squeezed her hand reassuringly and whispered, "Alright. If it's truly what you want."
Lydia led him over to the air mattress, and they both crawled into Beetlejuice's sleeping bag. Lydia layed down so she was facing Beetlejuice. He brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and leaned in to kiss her gently.
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to do that?" Lydia asked.
Beetlejuice grinned, and wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her coconut shampoo.
"Lydia, I love you. More than anything in this life, or the next."
"I love you too, Beej. I don't know what I'd do without you. Goodnight, BJ."
"Goodnight, Babes."
And with that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, listening to the thunder and rain in the background.
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hopesilverheart · 3 years
Text
Hot chocolate with a dash of love
(read on ao3)
Pairing: Aline/Maia Rated: Gen Summary: “You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Alec sighed. “That girl even lets you make those disgusting holiday drinks you love so much, and I assure you it’s not because she likes them.”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my drinks!” Aline threw a dishtowel at her friend. “And I guarantee you that she likes them, since she always asks for more. You can even ask her when she stops by today, if it’ll make you happy.”
“Oh, it would make me very happy,” Alec grinned. “I can’t wait to see where that conversation leads us.”
Or: Aline loves making coffee during the winter season; Maia loves buying coffee from her.
For the @malecdiscordserver Advent Calendar
“Oh god, what atrocity have you made this time?”
At the sound of Alec’s voice, Aline’s gaze snapped away from the drink she’d been preparing only to land on her best friend’s tired form. She almost winced in sympathy but figured she didn’t look much better, so any attempt at asking after him would only end with Alec turning the situation against her.
“Good morning to you too,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage – which was to say not much, given how drained she was from finals season. “This is the delicious peppermint mocha with eggnog foam, covered in candy cane sprinkles and mini marshmallows.”
At her description, Alec mock-gagged and skirted around her like the drink in her hands was the plague. Aline rolled her eyes at his antics but didn’t comment on his inability to appreciate holiday drinks; he wasn’t the only one who made fun of her tastes and she would much rather roast a rude customer than her best friend.
“Your coffee is already on the counter,” she piped up instead, grinning internally when Alec’s eyes lit up. She had known the man ever since the two of them were too little to walk, and it hadn’t taken her long to realise that the best way to his heart was through his favourite foods – or in this case, coffee. “And yes, I know I’m the most amazing best friend in the world. I hope you appreciate the efforts I put into it, because that stuff is ridiculously difficult to make.”
“That’s just because you’re terrible with the foam,” Alec snorted, sighing contentedly as he took a sip of his drink. “You should really let me deal with that, but I suppose I owe you a thank you for having this ready for me. How early did you even get here?”
“Simon made me take his graveyard shift,” Aline admitted defeatedly. “I should know better than to let his wide eyes fool me, but he mentioned something about his sister and there was no way I was going to refuse his offer. Remember that Christmas shift we were going to do together? Well, I hope you’re going to have a nice time with Simon.”
“No,” Alec gaped. “How the hell did you get him to accept Christmas of all days? His sister better have been in need of serious help because I refuse to be stuck with him for anything less than a matter of the utmost importance.”
“Oh please, don’t lie to yourself,” Aline nudged her friend playfully. “I know you secretly love having shifts with Si. He makes your drink perfectly and he mans the register every time you look like you’re about to murder someone. And of course, there’s the fact that he lets you sneak a break in whenever Magnus stops by. That boy is gold and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Alec mumbled, but Aline could see the fond smile tugging at his lips as he tied his apron with a flourish he’d undoubtedly gotten from his boyfriend. “Do you know when Lyds is taking over for you?”
“I told her not to get here before ten,” Aline shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, hoping Alec wouldn’t comment on-
“Ten, huh?” Her best friend raised his eyebrows, and Aline cursed internally. The man was too observant for his own good, sometimes. “Is that random, or does it perhaps have something to do with the pretty girl from my marketing class you seem to like so much?”
“Completely random,” Aline huffed. “I would never put in extra work just to see someone who I don’t even know. Besides, I’m pretty sure she only comes here to see you, since her lectures are on the other side of campus.”
“How on earth do you know that?” Alec laughed loudly, sounding genuinely surprised at the amount of information Aline had somehow managed to gather about the beautiful girl with warm eyes and curls she wanted to run her fingers through. “Even I don’t know where all of her lectures are, and I’m in three of her courses.”
“I talked to her,” Aline lied through her teeth.
In reality, she’d gotten answers through a fair amount of snooping, dubiously ethical social media research, and questions she’d carefully asked various Econ students who visited the coffee shop regularly. All in all, she’d put in more effort to find out about the other woman than she’d put in any of her papers that semester. It had been worth it, of course, but Alec didn’t need to know any of that.
“Whatever you say,” he smirked at her. “My point is that Maia – in case you somehow missed her name while the two of you were… talking – never stops by later than ten, which means there’s a good chance you’re trying to see her before you have to leave. As for why she comes here, I think we both know it has nothing to do with me. That girl is as gay as I am and you know it.”
“She could be bi, you know,” Aline pointed out, although she couldn’t deny the way her heart skipped a beat at the confirmation of what she’d been thinking for the past two months. It wasn’t that the girl – Maia – looked gay, but the way she stared at Aline… Well, some things were hard to ignore. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”
“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Alec sighed. “That girl even lets you make those disgusting holiday drinks you love so much, and I assure you it’s not because she likes them.”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my drinks!” Aline threw a dishtowel at her friend. “And I guarantee you that she likes them, since she always asks for more. You can even ask her when she stops by today, if it’ll make you happy.”
“Oh, it would make me very happy,” Alec grinned. “I can’t wait to see where that conversation leads us.”
Aline opened her mouth to answer but before her smart retort could slip past her lips, a customer entered the shop and marked the beginning of the morning rush. Nevertheless, Aline sent her best friend a sharp glance as she smiled pleasantly at the customer to take his order.
There was no way her favourite customer – and hypothetical crush, according to Alec – didn’t like her drinks. No way on earth.
***
It took two hours of working tirelessly alongside Alec but finally, the woman they’d both been waiting for stepped through the shop’s front doors, looking as pretty and bright as she always did.
Aline couldn’t quite remember when she’d first seen Maia, but she remembered exactly how she’d felt. She remembered her mouth going dry, her heart clenching at the sight of such a beautiful woman, and all her thoughts disappearing from her mind. She remembered Lydia nudging her in the ribs and staring at her expectantly as the angel stepped up to the counter, and she remembered fumbling over her words as she tried to take the girl’s order.
She’d been a disaster and seeing the woman back again the next day had been the most pleasant surprise of her first month back at uni. Ever since then, Maia had stopped by the shop almost every day of the week, even weekends, and all of Aline’s co-workers seemed to think she was the reason behind the increasingly frequent visits.
She got their point, she really did, but she still struggled to understand why a woman as stunning and confident as Maia would be interested in her. And if she was, why not just ask Aline out? It wasn’t like she was subtle with her – hypothetical – crush on the other woman.
After all, after over two months of seeing Maia up to six times a week, nothing had occurred between them beyond the occasional greeting when they crossed paths on campus.
“Good morning Alec! Good morning Aline!” Maia’s voice cut through Aline’s thoughts, bringing her attention back to the very woman she’d been thinking about. God, she was gorgeous. “How are you doing today?”
“Tired,” Aline admitted, biting back a yawn as the thought of her bed flashed in her mind. She felt like she hadn’t slept in years. “Simon had me covering his shift last night and early this morning, so I honestly feel like a zombie.”
“Why are you even here?” Maia’s eyebrows flew up. “I would have left this goddamn place as soon as possible if my friend had gotten me to cover his shift. Isn’t Lydia usually here around this time?”
“She is,” Aline answered, wondering why the woman even knew about their shifts. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge. “I just thought I’d pick up a few extra hours; a little more cash can never hurt, you know?”
“She’s lying.”
Until then, Aline had never really understood why people wanted to strangle their friends sometimes. Sure, Alec teased her more than anyone else and Lydia occasionally got on her nerves with her endless sources of knowledge, but she’d never wanted to physically hurt them before.
Right then, however, she could easily picture her hands around Alec’s neck. Anything to make him shut up, really.
“Am I?” Aline asked through gritted teeth, shooting Alec the deadliest glare she could manage and preening slightly when he backed off with raised hands. “That’s what I thought.”
When she looked back at Maia, the brunette looked like she was holding back a laugh, although her eyes were sparkling with an emotion Aline couldn’t quite put her finger on. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She’d made a fool of herself in front of Maia countless times already, and she wasn’t exactly eager to add another situation to her tally.
“Anything I need to know?” Maia finally asked.
“Alec’s just being his usual foolish self,” Aline replied unconvincingly – she could hear her voice trembling, for goodness sake. “Now, what did you want? Because as much as I despise that man, I also have a bet to win and I would love for you to prove my point.”
“And your point will be proven depending on the coffee I choose?” She sounded doubtful, but Aline didn’t let that bother her. She might not have been the best at flirting or navigating social interactions, but she could brew the best coffee out of all the workers at the shop and she was determined to show Alec that her drinks were fantastic. “I guess I’ll have whatever you feel like making, then.”
“That’s-” Aline cut herself off as she felt her cheeks turn red. It was very sweet of Maia, if she was being completely honest, but it also wouldn’t do much to convince Alec that the woman actually enjoyed her drinks. She couldn’t just force the beverage on Maia and call it a win; she needed the other woman to admit that she wanted one of her ‘sugary nightmares’. “That’s very kind of you, but it’s also not what this is about. If you could have any drink right now, within our limits, what would it be? What would you get if it were anyone other than me here.”
“Oh, well that’s a completely different question,” Maia sighed as though she was truly considering Aline’s question. “See, if it were you, I would get that hot chocolate topped with peppermint foam that you made the other day. If it were someone else, I’d probably ask for a basic vanilla drink because – and don’t tell the others I said this – they’re terrible at making holiday drinks.”
The tell-tale sound of plastic cups toppling over rang out behind Aline and it took all of her willpower for her not to grin victoriously as she turned back to check on Alec. Her best friend stuck his tongue out at her childishly, gesturing for her to get back to her own business. Aline was more than willing to oblige.
“My drinks are the best, then?” She asked sweetly. “And you’re not forcing yourself to drink them because of some strange obligation you feel towards me?”
“Obligation is the last thing I feel for you, Aline.”
Maia’s words had Aline freezing in her tracks, her ears burning as she lifted her gaze to meet Maia’s. Instead of looking mortified or amused, as Aline had assumed she would, she stared at the barista unashamedly, the glint in her eyes back with a vengeance.
This time, Aline thought she might have an idea what that was all about.
She took a deep breath, willing the last of her anxiety away the same way she had when she was younger and her mother had taken her along on business trips. She knew how to handle stressful situations; she’d been raised to handle them, even. If she could somehow make it through conversations with foreign politics who couldn’t have cared less about a little girl, she could make it through a casual talk with her crush.
Her not-so-hypothetical crush.
“Are you saying you didn’t start buying these ridiculously sweet drinks because you wanted to make me happy?” She raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. Whether or not Maia liked her drinks now, there was no doubt in Aline’s mind that no sane person would order her special beverages without some sort of hidden motive.
“Making you happy and feeling like I have to buy the drinks are far from the same things, you know?” Maia pointed out, a lopsided smile tugging at her lips. “But you’re right, that is why I started buying them. Before you start crooning in victory, Alec, I’ll have you know that I do enjoy her drinks! I’m pretty sure I get a sugar high every time I take a sip, but it’s completely worth it.”
“You’re insane!” Alec called over, muttering an apology to the customer behind Maia as he fumbled with yet another cup.
“You really don’t mind them?” Aline asked again. She knew her questions were starting to get redundant, but a girl was allowed to check before getting her hopes up, right?
“Aline, they’re delicious,” Maia rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Is that enough for you? Or do you also need me to tell you that even if they were terrible, I would still buy them and pretend to enjoy them just to see the way you light up every time I order one.”
“Oh my god,” Aline blushed brightly. “That’s- Um- Yeah, thank you? Did you want your drink now?”
“That and maybe a date?” Maia suggested calmly, and Aline couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed to get those words out without stuttering, because her heart was pounding wildly and she could feel her hands sweating profusely.
Maia had been coming to the shop for months; what on earth had made her decide to ask Aline now, of all times? And why was she so- Sure? Confident? Alec had told Aline that the other woman never hesitated and always spoke her mind, but this still seemed very sudden.
She wasn’t exactly complaining, but she also hadn’t been prepared in the slightest. She’d thought that maybe – maybe – after a few more weeks of fumbling her way through conversations and flirting through poor puns as well as overly sweet drinks, Maia might show interest. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
Who knew wooing could be so fast? So easy?
(It didn’t feel easy, but it also didn’t feel half as difficult as Aline’s past relationships, so she would take what she could get.)
“She would love to go on a date with you,” Alec’s voice broke through her rambling thoughts.
At any other time, Aline would have reprimanded her friend for speaking in her place, but she honestly couldn’t be angry about it when she noticed the way Maia’s features had started losing their brightness and eagerness.
“Yes! Absolutely! I would love nothing more than that,” she blurted out before Maia could start freaking out – one of them was more than enough, she thought. “I’m sorry, I just- That was- I didn’t consider this option when I wondered how you might react to my question. I thought it was rather innocuous.”
“It was,” Maia shrugged. “But you’ve been making me special holiday drinks all month long, Alec was clearly implying that you didn’t pick this shift up just to make money, and my gaydar has never been wrong before, so I thought I might as well take the leap.”
“That was a good idea,” Aline nodded rapidly, ignoring Alec and Maia’s matching laughter. “A great idea, even.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Maia chuckled. “I’ll stop by tomorrow so we can figure out the details? I have to talk to my boss about my shifts for the week but I’d love to get this planned out as soon as possible.”
“Definitely,” Aline agreed, hoping she didn’t sound as smitten as she thought she did. “Tomorrow works for me. I work all morning.”
“I know,” Maia winked. “Now, about that drink?”
Alec groaned, but Aline beamed at the reminder of her favourite part of her job at the coffee shop.
Five minutes later, Maia was leaving the shop with a sweet drink made with love – and terrible coffee art that made her smile anyways – as well as Aline’s phone number tucked in her jacket pocket.
Alec could complain as much as he wanted, but he couldn’t deny that Aline’s ridiculous things had earned her the most wonderful thing in the world: a date and, with that, a chance at love.
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yenslilac · 4 years
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Daenerys Targaryen and Ophelia: An Essay
I wrote this a while back, just after Season 8 ended. After a few edits, I decided to share it with you! Disclaimer: I wrote this fueled with rage at 11 at night for two weeks straight. Don’t judge. 
Part 1: The Heroine Goes Absolutely Bats**t Crazy
Ophelia. Known throughout time as That Crazy Chick Who Drowned Herself. What a legacy. And Daenerys: She Who Toasted A City Like Marshmallows And Then Was Offed By Her Nephew/Lover. The sad thing is, these are my heroes. What a life. But the ‘Insane Heroine’ trope is prevalent in many forms of media – Dark Phoenix is another example. At first glance, Daenerys and Ophelia have very little in common; Daenerys is a powerful and assertive leader, and Ophelia is a background love interest. The one thing that unites them – they go crazy because of rejected love. While their descent into madness is slightly different; Ophelia is pitiful, Daenerys aggressive, both end up dying indirectly or directly as a result of their lover. Lovely. Let’s talk first about Ophelia – She is rebuffed Hamlet, the original pathetic sad boy, and at the death of her father, goes insane. After several performances of her insanity, she makes her way to a river where she falls (or throws?) herself into the water and drowns. This is witnessed by Gertrude, who then goes on to tell her brother Laertes of her death. It’s a pretty monologue, describing the flowers and plants growing along the riverbank, and how pretty and peaceful she looked as she sank under water and DIED. Remember this. Then my girl Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men etc. etc. Oh boy. Ohhhhhh boy. What can I say except **************** ***** ** **********. Thank you for your time. But she like Ophelia, was scorned by her Boyfriend Who Felt It Was Just A Little Weird That She Was His Aunt. But like, your paternal grandparents and the rest of your great-whatever grandparents were siblings, and your maternal grandparents were cousins so… But I digress. Wait no, this is what it’s all about. I’m back! I un-digress! So, she goes ‘insane’ cause she can’t get laid (don’t we all?) and roasts a whole lot of people and becomes… Hitler for some reason… So, Boyfriend Who Felt It Was Just A Little Weird That She Was His Aunt And Really Wishes He Can Just Catch A Break For Once Is It Really Too Much Too Ask is egged on by Murder Sister™ and Smarty Pants McGee to kill her. Just like my friends! He makes out with her and stabs her (best of both worlds!) and she dies. Very prettily. Remember this. You know. YOU KNOW I’m going to rant about this.
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Part 2: Heroic Man Kills The Crazy Lady Like The Feral Dog She Is (But Feels Sad About It) 
Trope as old as time… why is this still fine… surely there’s a better plot deviiiiiice. “Duty is the death of love…” Shut up. Shut up. No, it isn’t. There is a thing called multitasking. You should try it. But let’s recap. Woman goes crazy because of lover/hero of the story rebuffing her because he’s got issues of his own that he doesn’t care to share with her, and close friend/family member is killed. This is when the paths of the Hero diverge. Hamlet does not actually kill Ophelia himself, but his careless actions towards her eventually drive her to suicide. Jon, on the other hand, does kill Daenerys, (no, I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed) by a knife to the heart while snogging her. (I’d like to take the opportunity to say that this was ridiculous and yes, I will die mad about it.) What else is similar? Hamlet holds Ophelia’s (or in some adaptations tries to) dead body in his arms as she is about to be buried and Jon holds Daenerys as she dies. They cry and wish it didn’t have to be this way, but really guys, this is Your Fault.
The problem with this trope in particular (and I’m talking about a lot of other examples here, like Dark Phoenix and Wolverine) is that it renders the killer sympathetic. They didn’t want to do this, but it was for the good of humanity, it was a mercy, blah blah blah. Really? Did someone make you kill her? No, a sense of moral justice does not count. Hamlet abuses and humiliates Ophelia then claims he loved her so much that ‘forty thousand brothers could not…” Creepy. I have to say, creepy. And Jon Snow. “Was it right? It doesn’t feel right…” I’m glad you came to that conclusion. I really am. But I knew this from the moment you stuffed that butter knife into her spleen, so honestly you don’t have any business feeling sorry for yourself. If there’s one lesson that Game of Thrones and Shakespeare has taught me, it is:
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(not an artist, don’t judge)
Part 3: Someone Died And The Director Said, “Cool But Like… Make It Fashion.”
Do you remember what I told you to remember? Did you? Cause I’m about to RANT.
Throughout time (like 500 years) men have been painting Ophelia’s drowning – the probable suicide of a tormented young woman – and made sure she looked hot while doing it. True, the description of her death is pretty and all, but depictions of her floating just below the surface, a dramatic and lovely pose and flowers strewn around her glamorise her death – something many other people have taken note on – and give her death something of a peaceful, serene departing note, rather than the death of a woman so deranged she did not appear to understand the gravity of her situation as she sank under water. Daenerys suffers a similar case of SDPS (Sexy Dead Person Syndrome). Let’s go through it step by step, shall we? While in an embrace with someone she loves and trusts, she is stabbed in the heart area (I guess?), and she dies. The End. My respect for white men flew off with Drogon. But I haven’t complained properly yet! Compared to other characters, like Myrcella, Joffrey and Catelyn Stark to name a few, her death was very clean. In these other examples, blood runs down their faces or spurts out of their neck in suitably graphic fashion but Daenerys’ case, two thin lines of blood trickle from her nose and mouth. Pretty, pretty. We get a brief shot of a pool of blood on the snow as Drogon picks her up, but blink and you’ll miss it. She looks shocked and confused as she dies, yet the next shot of her face shows her eyes are closed and an almost peaceful expression on her face. Not only this but we don’t actually get any proper Last Words, when she knows she is about to die. She makes no sound at all. She dies prettily and quietly. We also don’t see the knife at all until she is dead, removing any very graphic nature from the scene. A lot of the camera shots are of Jon’s face. This scene is not about Daenerys Targaryen’s death; This is about Jon Snow’s inner turmoil as he selflessly sacrifices the woman he loves to save the rest of the world. Hold up one second I gotta……
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I mean, come on. Daenerys is barely mentioned after her death. She, a woman who freed hundreds, no, thousands of slaves and worked hard to reach her goals (albeit a little dragonfire-y) yet she dies without a whisper and is forgotten almost immediately. She becomes less of a central character and more of a catalyst for other men’s rise to power (see Bran the Broken). Wait, what about Sansa, you cry? Well, at this point, she was so out of character I’m striking her from the narrative. Bye bitch 😊 The same goes for most of the other women in the last season. They become plot devices with a little agency and that’s about it. Missandei? Unnecessarily killed to create the “Mad Queen”. Cersei? A compelling villain reduced to a ‘crying girl who wants to be comforted’. Arya? Kills the Night King and then, I dunno. Sansa? Suspicious of Daenerys because of reasons, betrays her brother/cousin because she doesn’t want Daenerys on the throne, then just ‘forgets’ about this whole thing to become Queen in the North. Brienne? Honourable knight left sobbing after her one (k)night stand left her. Another thing that many of these women have in common (the ones who survived to the final episode anyway) is that none of them have romantic endgames despite this being set up. Arya and Gendry have been close friends in Season 2 and 3, then <3  and everyone (i.e. me) thought that you know, they get together and stuff, because that’s what the writers seemed to be setting up. But nope. Arya’s all like ‘I wanna kill the queen’ (which she never does) and throws all that out the window. (But Gendry was totally on that ship at the end). Brienne and Jaime seemed to finally stop eye fricking and then got straight to the actual fricking but nooooo. “I lOvE CeRseI! WE’re bOTh tERrIble PeOple!” And of course, the crowning glory:
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And the woman who actually does come out on top is Sansa, a largely unemotional, suspicious woman whose brother is now the king and made her a queen because she’s his sister. Riiiight. That’s totally not nepotism or anything. 
The End: But Boy, Am I Just Beginning
To conclude, the ending of Daenerys Targaryen was largely misogynistic as it painted a brutal and dishonourable murder as an act of mercy and gave the killer (sorry man, I feel like I’m throwing you under the bus here, but it must be said) a sympathetic angle as a heartbroken martyr sacrificing for the greater good. I had high expectations, I really did, but you just took it anD THREW IT IN THE DIRT. Good god. But it’s fine, I have fanfiction anyway.
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Thank you for reading this, if you stuck around this far!
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the-fiction-witch · 4 years
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Apologize P6
REAL LIFE: COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SMUT
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Once we got to mine we had some simple dinner and went up to my room playing old video games for a while, "Hey Uhhh Y/n, I've been thinking about what you said the other day" he says as I was playing a rather puzzling Lara croft level while Thomas sat beside me his arm around my back "What did I say the other day?" I asked "You know the day you let me Uhhh... Touch your-" he blushed looking at my chest "you know" "Want to again? You don't have to ask Thomas you can just do it" I laughed "Well... Later sugar, actually I've been thinking about what you said about you not being comfortable with me touching your...area?" "Umm?" I asked pausing the game "Look it's just an idea tell me to shut up but it though maybe we could maybe if we wanted to do something physical other then making out and me getting to feel your boobs maybe we could just cuddle up and .. touch ourselves" he suggested "How would that work?" I asked "Well we would lay down together" he smirked pulling me gently to lay down on my back with him next to me "and maybe cuddle up or start kissing and... Just play with ourselves that way I'm not touching you but we can still do stuff" he explained "I don't know how too" I whispered "Y-you what?" He laughs "I don't know how" I blushed "You don't know how to...play with yourself?" And I shook my head "aww that's so sweet, and kinda sad, so you've never in your life had an orgasum?" "No' I blushed "Oh you poor thing" he says giving me a kiss "I could always teach you?" "How would you know about girl stuff?" I asked "I'll admit, I've watched alot of porn" he says
"Im not sure, I mean Im okay with just making you feel happy and good, I can go without an orgasum"
"No becuase then i feel like a dick Y/n, its not fair I get one and you don't?"
"but whats so good about one anyway? Im okay" I shrug
"what so- my god you can tell you've never had one" he laughs "They feel amazing like the best feeling in the known universe okay, and if Im going to have one I want you too aswell"
Not long after we where laid out bodies under my duvet, in our underwear gasping for air both of us overwhelmed and exaughted "Fuck..." He said between breaths "fucking hell that was... Just fuck" he muttered "Was it-" I began "oh fuck you don't even need to ask sugar" he says "fuck that was good Y/n." He smirked "what about you? Was it okay?" "Very good" I smiled nuzzling close to him "again?' I giggled after a little while once we got our breath back "Again? It's addictive isn't it?" He laughs and I nodded "you really wanna go again?" "Very much" I giggled "Humm okay come on sugar' he smirked pulling me back to kissing him... I humming my little tune as I listened to my headphones while I read my book, it was the last day for this year of college and I was thrilled all my grades perfect for my next year so I had little to do until suddenly my book was thrown from my hand across the room hands on my waist and lips on mine. I considered screaming, biting this person, kicking them like crazy before I realized who the familiar lips belonged too as he pulled away "Hi Thomas" I laughed "Hi Y/n, guess what!" He said excitedly "What?" I laughed "I passed! Top of my class" "Aww well done Thomas" I laughed "can I have my book back?" I asked "Ohh yeah sorry" he blushed going and fetching my book bringing it back for me "aren't you happy?' "Of course I am, but I knew you'd pass Thomas" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss making him blush a little more "You ready to head home?" He asks and I nodded so we gathered our stuff and went out to his car driving down the sunny roads "So I have this awesome plan for his next week" he smirked "Ohh do you?" I laughed "Don't judge till you hear my amazing plans" "Go on" "Right, this week to celebrate our end of our first year of college we are going on an adventure" "Right?' "We are going camping" he says "our own little tent, all by ourselves, all week" "Why do I think you didn't come up with this?' I laughed "Okay... You got me." He sighed as he drove "Dan did, him and Mark are going camping together and... I thought it sounded like a good idea" "And?" "And my dad will throw a fit if they go on there own..." "So Dan and mark are coming with us?' I laughed "Well yeah but they will have there own tent and be like away from us. So you gonna come?" "Sure" I laughed "Yes, that my girl" he smiled kissing my hand "so pack your bag but not to much okay sugar it's a week but we only have a little tent" he says as we parked up by my house and headed up to my room "I have my own single airbed if you want? I can bring it with me" I said as I sat on my bed "Well Uhhh u don't really think our tent with have room for two singles sugar..." He explained sitting with me "I was kinda thinking we could uhh maybe just rough it on a nice double airbed?" He smirked giving my neck tickly kissed "Ahh Thomas" I giggled pushing him away "why do I think your using this as an excuse to share a bed for a week?" "I'm not using it as an excuse Y/n it's just that... Dan and mark will get to snuggle up all week, if I'm going to be away on some seaside holiday with my brother and his boyfriend in some tiny little tent... Least I can get out of it is a snuggle with my girlfriend" I couldn't help but blush hearing that word "What?" He laughs "why are you going all red sugar?" He laughs "You've not called me that before" I laughed "Called you what?" "Your girlfriend" I blushed "Haven't I? Could have sworn I have" he says "Once... While beating up Daniel" "See I have" "I kinda assumed you just kinda said that... If nothing else but for simplicity, that's my girlfriend sounds alot more powerful in a argument then thats the girl I'm seeing" I explain "Your right' he laughs "but I do think of you as my girlfriend Y/n, unless... Your not okay with that?' "No, more then okay" I smiled giving him a kiss .
I packed my suitcase as tightly as I could having to sit on it to get the zip to close having another extra bag of stuff that wouldn't fit, it's hard to fit a week of stuff in one bag, as soon as it got it all together mostly having packed dresses and such I did my make up and headed down to the little house seeing Thomass car parked on the drive as him and Dan tried desperately to for everything in, I suddenly felt even worse for my suitcase of clothes when mark who was sat on the bonnet saw me and waved "Morning Y/n" he smiled "Ohh hey Y/n" Dan waved from inside the boot as he had climbed inside in an attempt to organise it "Ahh Y/n your here sugar" Thomas smiled as he abandoned his brother and gave me a hug "Who's this?" A stern voice asked I looked and saw Thomas and moms dad looking as angry as usual "Y/n dad, you've met her before" Thomas sighed holding my hand "Have I?" "Briefly met her before" he corrected "Y/n his is my dad, dad this is Y/n... My girlfriend" "Just hurry up" his dad sighed before going in the house I went over to help Dan but he looked so defeated as he saw my suitcase "Four people going camping for a week, can't fit in a fucking Corsa!" He complained "Sorry" "It's not your fault Y/n, it wouldn't be so bad if somebody wasn't taking three different outfit options for each day" "I like choice" mark complained "And if someone else wasn't taking six boxes of condoms!" "Dan shut up, there for everyone' Thomas complained "We don't use them, neither of us can get pregnant, six boxes, six boxes of twelve condoms... That is seventy two condoms! How much sex are you planning to be having?" Dan complained "You guys should use condoms" I said "there not just for pregnancy, they help stop the spread of STI's and STD's" "Really?" Mark asked "Yeah... Wasn't this covered in health class?" "Ohh honey we didn't even get straight sex advice let alone info for us" Dan answered "That's shit" Thomas said "Indeed it is" Dan laughed as by some miracle we got it all to fit in the car with a little overhang into the back footwells I honestly wouldn't have been suprised if when we got there we opened the boot and everything explodes out and we all got in opening our windows and starting playing some CDs "We ready?" Thomas asks "Yeah!" We all yelled "Right let's get going then" Thomas smiled as he started up "and we will stop for hash browns and egg muffins" "Yay!!!!" I sat in the car watching as Thomas and Dan put up the tents on this little Mablethorpe campsite Dan and marks tent was orange and me and Thomas's was blue, our windbreaks around our little tents, even if our tents are far enough apart we wouldn't hear each other our campfire set up in the middle, I sat in the passenger seat as Mark sat in the back seat having a cigarette
"Hey guys we're already" Dan yelled so I got out starting to sort out my stuff crawling into the little tent to sort out, as soon as I got in I noticed the space for all the stuff and the sleeping compartment so I put all the stuff in from the car and I unzipped the sleeping compartment to put my stuff in but there was only one kingsized airbed where Thomas laid over the duvet on his stomach his head on his hand
"Hi Honey" He smirked
"Hi Thomas" I smiled
"Soooo... You wanna come snuggle in bed with me Y/n?" He asks
"Well I don't have much of a choice" I laughed "Either that or bunk with Dan and mark, and I have a feeling they don't want me in there tent
"Don't worry I'll keep you nice and warm" he smiles grabbing my waist and pulling me on top of him I laughed and tried pushing him away both of us bouncing around on the airbed giggling like crazy.
We spent most of that first-day unpacking and setting everything up till it began to get dark so we sat around our little campfire roasting some marshmallows
"Hey, Y/n? You ready to get to bed?" Thomas asks
"Sure" I smiled
"Okay night guys," Thomas told them
"Goodnight boys" I smiled giving them a little wave as I unzipped the tent and climbed in instantly going off into the sleeping compartment Thomas climbing in behind me zipping the tent up behind us
"So... how about we have a little snuggle before bedtime?" Thomas smiled as he got changed outside the sleeping compartment while I got into my nightie
"I'm not sure Thomas, all this sea air has made me very sleepy" I admit
"Awwww... Okay, Y/n" He laughed tapping on the sleeping compartment door "Can I come in?"
"Give me a sec," I told him as I quickly got sorted and got into bed under the covers reading my book "Okay you can come in Thomas"
"Thanks, Y/n" He smiled coming in and zipping the bedroom door space as he climbed into bed with me getting under the covers with me in his loose-fitting grey shirt and his blue shorts "So... can I have a cuddle?" he asks
"Okay" I smiled putting my book down and laying my head on his chest it was nice and cosy, his heartbeat calm and sweet
"Y/n?" He said after a while as his hand started playing with my hair
"What is it Thomas?" I yawned
"I love you," He says
"what?" I asked sitting up a little, the twilight outside in the sky, the campsite light still on with the light coming in shining a blue-hued light across his face as he laid under the purple striped duvet on the slightly bouncy airbed
"I said I love you, Y/n," He says "it's okay... I understand Y/n, after everything I understand you're probably not ready to be like that with me" He says
"Thomas, I love you too," I told him giving his lips a gentle kiss
"Ummm... I love you so much Y/n, My beautiful girlfriend"
"Aww I love you too Thomas, you're a good boyfriend" I smiled snuggling back with him closely
"Thomas?" I asked
"Yeah Y/n?"
"Tell me again" I giggled
"umm I love you honey" He smiled giving my head a kiss
"Again?" I giggled
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nacksgameshack · 6 years
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A Look at the AtGames Sega Genesis Flashback HD
For many out there, the term AtGames, will leave quite a bitter taste in your mouth, and you know who you are. To put it blunt and over the top as possible, AtGames are considered by many as the one of the worst things ever to come on God’s green Earth. 
I’m sure even some people will spit on it and then light it up with a lighter they got from the dollar store if they’re feeling an extra bit melodramatic, or of course just want to use their products to roast some crispy and delicious marshmallows, yum indeed, problem is, I don’t really ever eat marshmallows since they more or less just give me severe headaches, and most of the time I just prefer to sit back with a nice cold beverage like a Pepsi, this boy doesn't drink for sure, and just enjoy life as it was intended, without of course lighting a console on fire, I would not recommend something like that, if anything, I’d rather just light up some twigs and throw them at the neighbors to give them a scare. Anyways, for those who don’t know who or what an AtGames is, like seriously what is an AtGames? Well it’s not really a what more as it’s a who, in this case, it’s a company, that is mainly known for distributing licensed aftermarket plug and play consoles in North America and I guess Europe too, that may I add pretty much always dwindle down to either early Sega (Master System or Genesis) consoles and old-school Atari, with of course these being emulated, now many of these releases are more than just simple plug and plays, and some of them might I add are quite unique in fact, in a similar fashion to the huge flood of Master System rereleases that are still seen even today in Brazil from Tectoy, with AtGames, you’re going to notice that there are alot of different models and all of them like many aftermarket consoles have their own flaws that usually, especially in AtGames’s case end up being huge turn offs for a consumer, yet each model does have pluses in their own little way I guess you could argue. Regardless I’m not trying to say AtGames is a terrible company, or a great one either, most of the problems people will say about their older Genesis plug and plays and portables (yes, you heard me right they have a few portable variations of what is pretty much a mini Sega Nomad with SD card support) is the audio, and quite honestly the reputation for their poor audio, is definitely something that isn’t over-exaggerated, if you’re an audio nerd, someone who deeply cares about the accuracy of how your audio is being emulated, let me just say I do not recommend getting any of their older model consoles, or even portable for that matter, especially to note with the portable, is that if you keep it just a tad bit too high, you even have a chance of blowing out the speaker. 
Now, just for some clarity, the Console that I’m going to be reviewing today, hands-on first experience I guess, is actually quite a new piece of hardware, it is a 2017 model of the latest console released by AtGames, The Sega Genesis (or Mega-Drive) Flashback HD, which yes does feature HDMI support! This console, just from the trailer is boasted to be a huge if not entire overhaul of AtGames trying to clear their bad reputation and create something that many gamers will cherish and hold onto, or atleast have fun playing without the audio blasting your ear canals and making them bleed, but a promise really doesn't mean anything unless there is real action and improvement involved along the way. 
But let’s start from the basics, first off, you will notice that unlike the other variations of the Genesis consoles, this one is actually built to resemble an actual Genesis model, and fortunately even the best looking Genesis model in my opinion anyway, the Model 1. The console itself just from the looks department does sport many similarities with it being based on the Model 1′s shell design, yet also is much tinier and better compared in size to the model 3 Genesis than the model 1 or 2. One thing to be noted about this console is that, it is often compared to the NES Mini and SNES mini, and a reason for this, is because, well not only does it boast to have numerous built in games, 81 in fact, which well we’ll discuss that amount a little later, but it also does appear as said earlier, as a miniature Model 1 design, similar in fashion to the Mini Nintendo consoles, the Flashbacks also happen to have been originally released a wee bit after the NES Mini’s debut on the market. I personally haven’t touched a NES Mini or SNES Mini, so I wont do any real comparisons, rather for now, I’ll just focus on the Flashback itself and what it brings to the table of the home consumer market.
Now I've talked a little bit about the design of the console, and before I go into actually playing the thing, let me just say, when I bought this product, I wasn't expecting much from it, my expectations were quite low, from being a consumer who has gone through two AtGames Genesis consoles, I wasn't exactly disappointed with them, as for what it was, the price was a decent price, yet I did go ahead and just took them back anyways, as I just went ahead and preferred to just keep the money instead of just keeping the console, silly I suppose, but as someone who has experienced and can see why so many people are not a fan of these consoles, my expectations, as I stated were a bit on the lower side, I wasn't expecting the Flashback to compare to anything like the official Sega Genesis, but I will say that just from the super nice packaging and actually quite decent build quality of the console, already I’m quite impressed with what I have, it’s honestly kind of cool having anything miniature right? Especially something that has BLAST PROCESSING! The Console doesn't feature volume control nor does it feature a headphone jack like the real Model 1, but it’s only expected for corners to be cut, nor are such things on the original hardware even really viable to me personally as a consumer. Alls I really want is something that plays nice, and that’s what we all really want, but of course I will say this right off the bat, a huge plus of this console already is just how it looks and how it feels. The two wired and wireless (yeah, that’s alot of controllers, tell me about it *phew) controllers that you get when you purchase the console all feel great, and interestingly enough, the wireless controllers actually have two extra buttons in the middle for rewinding the game you’re playing for roughly six seconds, giving yourself a second chance at a game, or just looking at some slick moves you pulled, and also bringing up a menu that goes back to the interface of the Flashback, which yes, the Flashback does feature an interface, but I’ll talk about that a little later, the only real downside of the controllers I can say is that I’ve heard the 3-pad Genesis controllers are not compatible with the system, not just the interface, but the system entirely, that may have been fixed in a newer firmware update, but as far as I’m aware, for what I have, they do not work, only 6-button pads work on the console, which in retrospective, is not a total lost as you can still at the very least of course play games on the console with the controllers they give you, or one of your old 6-pad controllers, even though, they honestly feel just as good as the older 6-pad controllers. Overall I’d say the build quality, presentation, and design of the Flashback from a physical point of view looks quite stellar for a aftermarket console.
Alot of times, the main attraction of these aftermarket consoles is that they’re generally much cheaper than real hardware, with of course cons because of that, and alot of times, they even feature built in games, or rather some simply not only feature built in games, but they even upscale them without having to spend ridiculous amounts of money just to upscale your original hardware. Currently, as what I've seen Flashbacks usually go for around $70 USD currently, and you have to think, not only does this console promise a multitude of games, it features four controllers, a Model 1 reinvented design with some changes of course for good or worse, and even an HDMI output, something that the original Genesis would not normally support. So is this console really worth such a high price? Or is this really just a waste of money? Well before I say anymore about that, let me talk about what you’re getting yourself into behind just the little shell and controllers that are nice and pretty. The Genesis Flashback features a large amount of games, promised to be 81 built-in, which at a further glance should be noted, that not every game on here is a Genesis game, as some games in fact happen to be (another new addition to the Flashback besides pretty HD quality, time travel powers, and other things) Master System and Game Gear titles, of course the two sharing the same hardware, and the Power Base Converters existence being a thing, it only makes sense for them to add such games to the library, now there are not many of course, only a few like Fantasy Zone and Sonic Chaos, but atleast for me anyway, they’re actually quite a really nice addition that I actually really enjoy and am glad to see there, the console does feature a few other non Genesis games, that are just strange old homebrew titles, but luckily there’s only a few so it wont clutter the library, or really affect it too heavily, as in my opinion, for what you get, it does feature quite a nice library of games, from the obvious Sonic the Hedgehog titles, to some Alex Kidd games, and even the Mortal Kombat series. The Flashback also has quite a decent support of RPG games built in if that’s your goto, and what’s very cool about the console itself, is that you can actually play cartridge games on the console, as it does feature a cartridge slot, only making it even more like it’s big brother, the Model 1. In order to access any of these actual games though, you are taken to the interface of the Flashback, and while to many people it’s not really cited as anything stellar, it does what it should, and there is a bit of input lag once in awhile, and the layout requires the trigger pads, rather than the d-pad for browsing, which yes, is quite strange, it still at the end of the day does look quite pretty as you do get to see alot of nice old cover art from classic Genesis and even a few Master System titles. Now the games themselves, as far as I’ve seen and played, they all run quite well and the sound is pretty much on point atleast in terms of emulation. There is a bit of noticeable staggering or choppiness in some games like Sonic the Hedgehog, but when you’re busy enjoying the game, it shouldn't bother you too much. The games have sometimes frozen on me, but with a clear reset, they work again, and with the new addition of save states and rewinding, it does avoid soft locks quite a bit. There is quite a huge negative about the Flashback though when it comes to cartridge games, is that some games will not work at all, unless of course you modded your Flashback to play such games. Simply put, games like Sonic 3 and Knuckles will not work with Sonic 3 attached, as the console will pick up both cartridges and show both on the screen as to either choose from Sonic 3 or Knuckles, which yes, totally removes the lock on features you could get from any Genesis Sonic title that is normally compatible. Now previously mentioned with modding and taking a dangerous risk with your Flashback, you can manually add games with a micro SD, and some games that wont normally run off a cartridge can run, if it’s loaded from the system, there have even been some people who have installed retroarch on the system and enabled it to not only play Sega CD titles, with a micro SD of course, but also 32X titles like Knuckles Chaotix and the god awful Spiderman Web of Fire, actually you know what that seems awfully mean to shred on that game, I tell you what I need to give that game a try again and just see how well it fits into my modern day brain, maybe even review if I actually have motivation for such an awfu- I mean uh Sega 32x game.
With all of this mentioned, does the Flashback hold up to it’s 70 dollar price? Well besides some compatibility and minor graphical issues, I’m perfectly happy with the thing, as someone who can’t afford to collect Genesis games, this is quite a nice alternative for me, and I’d say it is for anyone in the same boat. Now for the adventurous and vanilla types, or rather just even collectors, it is of course better to just go ahead with a real Sega Genesis, as that is of course going to have the best compatibility as it is the real hardware and no emulation problems will be found. They’re also sold in a multitude of models and support addons, so if you’re into collecting that, then go for it, but say if you just want a budget hd console that can play Sega Genesis games as they were intended, well while I can’t say this does it entirely 100 percent accurate, I can say, that for the most part, all the games on this console play perfectly fine, and it is a much cheaper alternative than to just buying a real Genesis, as it also doesn't feature a region lock, unlike the real Genesis and Mega-Drive hardware. With all considered of the console, despite the flaws, I would say that this console is something that you should keep your eyes out for, if you are looking to play Genesis games on your HDTV for an affordable cost, and if you want it to come with a bunch of games of course aswell, and as I said earlier, it does feature quite a bit of controllers and two controllers ports, so if you ever have someone come over, the Flashback already has got you covered. I’d say just go for the thing, hell I got mine used on Ebay for about 50 dollars, which was probably a stupid idea in hindsight, and it definitely did lower my expectations even further then it just being an AtGames product, but with that said, despite it being used, despite it being an AtGames product, it still stands out as quite a very good aftermarket mini console, that is very much worth your time if you want something affordable, and also compact that plays Sega Genesis titles.
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meadowhilley · 6 years
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what’s wrong with this picture
Part I: A Walk in the (Upside-Down) Park
I’ve always wanted people to like me. As far back as I can remember, though, I was never convinced they did.
Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the self-tortured speculation bit where I delve into the possible origins of my persistent insecurity. All I want to say now is that, however strong or self-assured or even arrogant I may have appeared to you over the years, what I most wanted, always, was for you to understand me, to accept me, to tell me that the person that I am is alright by you.
Then one day you did. It was three years ago. On October 30, 2014, actually, the eve of what could have been the scariest Halloween of my life. This invigorating shot in the arm came just hours before Chris and I would sit down with a team of medical experts who claimed to have discovered a relatively successful protocol for dealing with the zombie apocalypse. Little did any of us know at the time that you, my friends, had slipped me a powerful antidote the day before, one whose real effects would manifest and multiply over the months and years to come.
On that Halloween eve, in my shock at having been abruptly relegated to the ranks of the undead, I turned to Facebook. As one does. And there you were, my imagined community, ready to inoculate me against the looming horror. A motley group of friends that reflected better than anything else the complex composition of my character—character and friends I would need now more than ever. Looking to you, I realized, was the best way of looking at me. The converse, I understood, was equally true. Mirror, mirror, I began. A weird approach to fighting cancer, admittedly. An indication I’d spent too long in fairytale land as a kid. As wild-eyed Joyce Byers of Stranger Things has repeatedly insisted, “I know what this looks like!” By that, of course, she means BATSHIT CRAZY. Unless you happen to be the one who has found a way to talk with your missing son via Christmas lights. Or who feels you’ve discovered a “cure” for your disease in regularly confiding your deepest fears and greatest foibles in the world’s most public forum.
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Self-reflection, I quickly discovered, can look an awful lot like an exercise in vanity, its mirror-image and near enemy.
Just as poison can serve as medicine.
Patriotism can resemble treason.
Standing up can involve taking a knee.
Abuse can masquerade as tough love.
And, if you should find yourself suddenly separated from everything you hold dear by the thin wall concealing an eerie dimension you never suspected could exist, then your frantic effort to break down that space-time barrier with an axe or whatever goddamn tool you happen to have on hand will likely appear to many concerned onlookers as the textbook sign of a nervous breakdown.
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(Note my weapons of choice: a pen, a child’s fork, a pair of scissors, needle-nose pliers, lip gloss, and a few fake bullets.)
If any of my soul-searching exploits of the past three years ever struck you as exhibitionist—just the sort of self-absorbed, navel-gazing, attention-seeking, ego-driven kind of behavior that gives social media its bad name (well, that and the whole selling-out-to-the-Russians thing)—you are not alone. On many occasions, I myself came to question the methods I’d adopted and to ask what hidden motivations my sneaky subconscious might be cleverly concealing.
My closest friends and family shared these concerns, but whenever they voiced them I justified my Facebooking and blogging and memoir writing as so many means to achieving a noble and necessary end: healing.
Of course, even as I emphatically defended myself against charges of look-at-me narcissism, I was fully and uncomfortably aware of the fact that how we arrive at our destination is bound to change the very nature and outcome of the journey itself.
Social media can have a terrifically corrosive power. We know this. Evidence that these platforms can fracture and divide our community more than they unite us is everywhere apparent. Many social scientists have taken to the soapbox of late, screaming that our devices have made zombies of us all, preaching that the end of the world is nigh, and offering statistics to back their claims.
Showing up regularly in such a fraught virtual environment was a risky proposition, I knew, being all too aware of our susceptibility as humans to the lure of likes, the intoxicating effects of flattery, and the tendency to get greedy and hoard the sort of social capital such attention bestows. Hip to all this, I was a bit like Will Byers, understanding that, even if my initial intention was to use my insight to spy on the Shadow Monster in the hope of defeating it, I could easily end up a double agent in the employ of pure evil.
But whatever. It didn’t seem to matter how often I flipped the perspective switch during those internal debates about the advisability of “performative self-examination,” as I’d come to think of it. I always found myself coming back here, to this massive virtual theater, and awkwardly uttering “Ahem” to get your attention.
Driving my actions was something far more powerful than what the visible world was willing to reveal. Like Joyce, I felt what I felt. I knew what I knew. This was a salvage operation; at stake was not only the rebuilding of my body but the redemption of my soul. To hell with what it looked like. Just sell me the fucking Christmas lights, Donald. And yes, I mean on credit.
There’s something seriously wrong with me, I began by admitting to us all three years ago. And to the public confession that I was harboring a horrifying thing at my core, you responded with 162 likes, 146 comments, and 24 shares, which combined told me what I’d always secretly hoped to hear: that you liked me anyway, that some of you even loved me, and that you cared whether I lived or died.
It was a glorious and strange occasion, like attending my own funeral. Announcing my diagnosis helped us all dump our inhibitions in a screw it, let’s hug sort of way. Within the space of an instant I received this rare and beautiful gift: learning how you felt about me without having to die first.
Everyone should be so lucky. Seriously.
You and I wanted to have a moment, right then and there, while it was still possible. We felt compelled and instinctively driven to enact a basic human transaction at the brink, for our mutual benefit. What we had to figure out were the terms of our trade.
Conventional wisdom says cancer patients need casseroles. While my kids thank those of you who cooked to show you cared over the six-month period when I found even the taste of water overpowering and insufferable, what I most wanted for myself was something very different, and really hard to ask for: an audience.
Hard because, if asking for pretty much anything is awkward, it can be downright mortifying to walk up to the mic and announce, “May I have your attention, please? I have something very worthwhile and important to say.”
Especially for a 5’2” female who indulges in self-doubt the way that others devour a pint of ice cream (ok, I do that, too). Inviting you to read along as I muddled through some early responses to The Big Questions, I was always excruciatingly aware of the bigness of my ask. Time is precious, after all, and far greater voices than mine constantly compete for your attention. But there was so much I wanted to tell you. So much, in fact, that I was dying to tell you.
However lovely the intentions behind donated comfort food, forcing myself to enjoy it in the context of my cancer felt a lot like roasting marshmallows while my house was burning, to be perfectly honest. Every one of my instincts was fully engaged in the all-consuming survival effort, and there was a clear consensus among those deep and shrill interior voices that, if my existence was to mean anything at all to this world, I needed to express myself 1.) immediately and continuously, 2.) to the exclusion of many other worthy pursuits, 3.) within hearing range of an audience, 4.) without any hope of reward beyond simply being heard.
Here’s something you may have figured out about me by now: I am no good at playing the part of Helpless Cancer Victim. No more than I can pull off the role of Classroom Party Mom. “Don’t count on me for cupcakes,” I recently explained to my daughter’s first-grade teacher. “But hey, if you’re open to some curriculum enhancement, I’ll bake you up a big batch.”
Please understand: this is not me acting all smarty-pants, holier-than-thou, self-righteous, proud-to-a-fault, or ungrateful for your concrete aid when I was at my lowest. This is not me judging all of those compromised folks who legitimately need casseroles, or even those who are getting on just fine but would like to enjoy a steaming bowl of consolation without a side dish of complicated, thank you very much. Nor is this me looking down my nose at the phenomenal cupcake bakers of this world who brighten our kids’ days (I love you ladies for all you do—and yes, it’s almost exclusively ladies who do this very important work). It is simply a matter of me knowing me. Of me understanding that the best of what I have to offer is something far less comforting than casseroles or cupcakes, but just as important.
For the better part of my life, most folks haven’t known what to make of me. Like Carla Bruni, “je suis excessive” by nature. I was always too much for people. Too intense. Too far out there. Too eclectic. Too intimidating. Too earnest. Too touche-à-tout (all-over-the-place). Too outspoken. The proof? I just compared myself to Carla Bruni, France’s perfectly bilingual supermodel, actress, singer songwriter, and former First Lady. Who does that?
I’ll tell you who: the sort of person who has been looked at askance, questioned, criticized, and reined in all her life for expressing this brand of intolerable excess.
Someone should really take you down a peg or two, I’ve heard more than once.
You think you’re so great.
On whose authority do you make such claims?
Goody-goody!
Who do you think you are?
Can’t you just focus on one thing at a time?
Stop pointing your finger at me!
What makes you think you have something worthwhile to share?
How about you just shut up already and give someone else a chance to talk?
None of which felt good. If those voices had it right, I’d be forced to conclude there was something seriously wrong with me. The prospect of approaching life in a fundamentally different way would necessarily mean fighting the wild nature even my name told me I was meant to embody.
But still the voices persisted. Which is likely what led to my most valiant effort at shutting myself up: a 13-year relationship in which I was actively discouraged from expressing myself in almost every way imaginable.
Then the most amazing thing happened: I got cancer!
Again, an admittedly excessive thing to do. Not something I’d exactly gone and signed up for. But I’ll be damned if this illness wasn’t the perfect antidote to my lifelong alienation problem.
Suddenly, nobody begrudged me my excesses. No one wanted to be in my shoes. Nobody envied my lot in life. People pretty much stopped telling me to be more this and less that. My body was not a source of jealousy or desire. My manic antics didn’t grate on people’s nerves, or at least not the way they used to. That old, persistent claim that the deck had been stacked in my favor was abruptly dropped. And just like that, after a lifetime of curbing my natural élan so as not to make people uncomfortable, after decades carrying guilt over what I’d been given and wearing shame because my very being could often seem an unwelcome excess, I was finally free to just be me.
The jig was up. My cancer had outed me, revealed what I’d long been concealing. And the only way to spare folks discomfort was to hide the fact that I was sick… which of course could only make me sicker. Repressing, stifling, conforming to expectations—this cautious approach had clearly been unhealthy. Besides which, following all the rules had failed to keep me safe from mortal danger.
Call me crazy, what others saw as a tragedy I experienced as a liberation.
In the Upside-Down, I felt quite suddenly well-liked. Welcome. Just right. The sensation Alice must have felt when she finally stopped growing either too big or too small. Or the comfort Goldilocks found in tasting Baby Bear’s porridge, sitting in his chair, and sleeping in his bed.
The natural bravado and intensity I’d carried into many of my earlier endeavors and that had often struck observers as problematic were instantaneously recast in a heroic light. Whereas in the past I’d been accused of overreach and gaudy showmanship, now the very same gestures were perceived as acts of “incredible bravery” and “kick-ass determination.”
Thanks… I guess? I stammered, totally baffled, knowing that this “amazing courage” people spoke of was nothing more than me being me, only the context had shifted dramatically. The extreme nature of my circumstances finally seemed a good fit for my own radical character. My fearlessness finally had a proper outlet. This is going to sound weird, I know. Offensive, even. But I immediately knew that cancer was going to be easy compared to feeling unliked. That had been excruciating. This would be a walk in the park.
I’ve got this, I assured everyone.
But what I was really thinking was: Holy crap, I was made for this shit.
Ever hear the story about how Br’er Fox wanted to kill Br’er Rabbit in the worst possible way? “Hang me from the highest tree!” pleaded Br’er Rabbit. “Drown me in the deepest lake!” he implored. But please, PLEASE, p-l-e-a-s-e don’t throw me in that there briar patch!” Which is precisely what Br’er Fox proceeded to do, letting predatory spite blind him to the fact that his prey had royally played him.
Like the tricky rabbit, I was born and bred in this here briar patch, my friends. Born and bred.
(to be continued)
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campingconsole · 4 years
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Tips for Hammock Camping
Camping is an awesome way to enjoy some time away from the everyday grind. You, family, and friends get to go fishing, swimming, boating, hiking in nature, you get to see wildlife, roast marshmallows, and tell scary stories around the campfire. It sure is a hoot, especially when you’re out there with your friends and get to enjoy some cold ones too! 
After a long day of drinking beer and telling scary stories, it’s time to get a good night’s sleep, but nobody wanted to set up a tent. It’s too hard, so the hammock seemed like a reasonable choice.
Camping hammocks can be great additions to your outdoor adventuring. They tend to be quite versatile and can be set up virtually anywhere as long as there are trees. They are usually quite affordable, and pretty comfortable too. However, get the wrong hammock and/or set it up the wrong way, and you are going to have some problems. 
It’s why we are here today, to provide you with some essential hammock camping tips, so you can be comfortable, get a good night’s sleep, and be ready for another day of hardcore adventuring.  Check out these awesome options in hammocks for camping.
Get a Good Rainfly
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Perhaps one of the most important tips that we can give you when it comes to camping with your hammock, is that you should always pay attention to the weather. It’s hard to say, but we have gone camping more than once and have gotten absolutely obliterated by some rain during the middle of the night. No, it’s not fun at all when you’re enjoying dreams of fish to be caught in the morning, only to be jolted out of it by a downpour.
Hammocks can be quite comfortable to sleep in, and they tend to be quite easy to set up as well, but one thing which a basic hammock does not excel at is keeping you dry. 
Many hammocks don’t come with any kind of rain protection, often known as a rainfly, and some come with mediocre rain protection options. What we mean to say here is that you need to purchase a hammock that has a top-quality rainfly, or you need to buy a good one on the side. Otherwise, endure a soggy experience camping in the rain.
A good rainfly should be made out of some kind of totally waterproof material. Something like parachute nylon or rubberized plastic works well, just as long as it is 100% waterproof. It should be spanned up above the hammock, just around a foot above your head, enough to give you some breathing and moving room, but not so far up that rain can get you from the sides. 
Any way you put it, when you’re sleeping in a hammock, you do not want to get rained on, so a well-placed and high-quality rainfly is the key to your comfort. 
Bug Netting Is Key
If you have ever gone camping in the woods, especially in the deep woods or near water, you probably know that mosquitos rule these areas. Between the mosquitos, black flies, horse flies, and other critters like ticks, camping out in the woods exposes you to all of those bloodsuckers. Camping stops being fun when instead of sleeping, you are spending your time fighting an army of blood-sucking insects that want nothing more than to feast on you. It hurts, it’s super itchy, and it leaves you getting up in the morning without any sleep at all.
This is usually not a big problem when it comes to tents, because tents have doors and screening specially designed to keep insects out. However, many hammocks are open at the top, and if you are going camping in the woods, you do not want to purchase a hammock that doesn’t have bug netting. It’s the last camping mistake you’ll make and it might just drive you to call it quits a few days early. 
Bug netting on your hammock doesn’t have to be anything super special, just good enough to keep all varieties of insects at bay, and tough enough so you can touch it and move around on the hammock without having the netting rip or come apart on you. The best hammocks will come with this bug netting, and you should be able to remove or attach it at will, which, by the way, should also be true for the rainfly. 
Both the rainfly and bug netting should be removable, and you should be able to put them on at the same time too, in case it rains and you are being bombarded by an army of mosquitos. 
Hammock Material – Breathability and Stickiness
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Yet another tip when it comes to choosing the best hammock for camping has to do with the material which the hammock is made of. This can be a bit difficult to decide because different materials have different features. One go-to option is parachute nylon. The reason for this is because it tends to be the toughest and most durable material that can hold up a lot of weight and is nearly impossible to rip, at least not with normal use. 
Parachute nylon is fine in this sense, but what you need to know about it is that it’s not all that breathable, which means that you are going to be a bit hot, and then you get sweaty. Seeing as the nylon is usually also waterproof, when you get sweaty, the hammock is going to get damp and sticky, and that moisture will have nowhere to go, especially with a rainfly on top. However, this material tends to be pretty soft and supportive, which is a bonus. 
On the other hand, some hammocks’ bases are made out of some kind of mesh, usually a thicker rope mesh. The benefit which this kind of material has is that it is much more breathable and allows air to flow freely, so you won’t get as hot and sweaty on those humid summer nights, and if you are sweaty, at least that moisture has somewhere to go. The bad part about this material is that it just is not very comfortable or supportive, because you’re lying on a net, more or less. 
There are some options that meet somewhere in the middle of mesh and nylon, but quite honestly they usually aren’t great. Which option you go with, a solid and supportive nylon hammock material that is not very breathable and can get sticky, or a mesh-like hammock that is breathable, but not very supportive or super comfortable, is all up to you, and no, it’s not a great choice to have to make. 
Single-Person Hammocks Take The Day 
Ok, so you and your partner, or you and the kids want to go camping, and you figure, hey, now is a good time to test out that hammock. “We can sleep in the hammock,” or so you think. Sure, two-person hammocks are advertised as being a great fit for couples or for several kids to sleep in, and it sounds all fun and cozy … that is until you try it out. 
Take it from people who have experienced this firsthand, having two people in the same hammock just doesn’t go well. It’s fine for a few minutes, maybe even an hour or two, and sure, it can feel romantic, but things start to go downhill pretty quickly from there. 
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If you have ever slept in a hammock, you know that the bottom is soft, which means that the center of gravity is wherever the biggest backside is laying, which is fine for a one-person hammock, because you just kind of sink into the middle; however, things change when there are two people in a hammock, especially two people of significantly different weights and sizes.
What ends up happening is that the heaviest person causes the hammock to sag where they are laying, and the lighter person then ends up rolling downward in that direction. It can get pretty uncomfortable. 
There are camping hammocks that have solid bases, kind of like a suspension bridge bed, which does alleviate this problem to a certain extent. However, what ends up happening with these is that the whole hammock then ends up leaning in the direction of the heavier person, and it’s not enjoyable for the lighter person. So, although two-person hammocks seem romantic, the usual result is two super-grumpy people who haven’t gotten any sleep and don’t want to look at each other come morning. 
Set Up Upwind From Your Camp Fire
The last time we went camping, we thought it would be super nice to set the hammock up right beside the campfire, or well, a few feet away from it, but close enough to feel the heat, especially when the wind blew in our direction. Yeah, this was an absolutely massive mistake, one that ended up with us getting no sleep, smelling like smoke, not being able to breathe right half the time, and relocating the hammock come morning. 
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Simply put, if you can, check the weather to see what the wind strength and direction is. If all else fails, use some common sense to see where the wind is blowing. You don’t want to be close to the fire and downwind from it, or else you’ll end up getting smoke in your face all night long, and sleeping like that is nearly impossible. 
That being said, if you are close to a body of water, there is going to be a fair amount of wind either way, especially during the night. Water retains heat faster than solid land, so during the night, the warmer water causes air to rise from the water’s surface, which then means that colder air from the land blows outwards toward the water to replace the rising air, thus creating wind. 
So, if possible, have the fire between you and the water when you are hammock camping near water, as generally speaking the wind will blow towards the water. However, this is not always the case, but whatever the case is, don’t be downwind from the fire when you set up your hammock. 
Always Heed The Maximum Weight Limit
So, let’s tell a little story here. It’s short. We got a really nice looking hammock, one which said that the weight limit was 150 pounds. Let’s say I am a little heavier than 150 pounds, closer to 200. Yeah, it didn’t go so well. About 10 minutes after I get on the darn thing, sure enough, my oversized backside went crashing down to the ground. 
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The moral of the story is that if the hammock says 200 pounds, it means 200 pounds, not more, and generally speaking, even a bit less. So, if you weigh 200 pounds, look for a hammock that can hold up 300 at the least. Your movement, especially fast movements put a lot of pressure and strain on these things. 
It’s better to get a hammock with a weight limit that greatly exceeds your own body weight, so you can be safe and secure, rather than ripping through the material and crashing to the ground. It hurts, and if at all possible, should probably be avoided. 
Proper Hammock Support Lines and Setup
One very important hammock camping tip to keep in mind is that without the right support lines and camping hammock setup, no matter what you do, you’ll end up with your backside on the ground. Now, there are 3 options you can go with — hammock hanging hardware, hammock straps, or rope, so let’s quickly take a look at each option.
Rope
Using nothing more than rope to secure a hammock in between trees is certainly a cost-effective way to go. Rope is inexpensive and you probably already have some laying around. 
Next, using rope is in theory quite easy, because you just have to tie the hammock loops to the rope, then the other end of the rope to the trees on each side of the hammock. That said, getting the right knot going, the right amount of tension, and the right security when using a rope for this is not easy. It takes some knowledge, skill, and know-how.
Straps
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The next way to secure a hammock in between trees is by using straps. Generally speaking, these straps usually come with the hammock you buy, and they usually have some kind of ratcheting system to tighten the straps for easy tension adjustment. 
These straps are usually not very cheap, especially if you buy high-quality ones, but they are much easier to work with. Tightening them, adjusting tension, and getting them to be secure is all easily done, but they do have length restrictions and can be pricey.
Hardware
By far the most secure way to hang your hammock between trees is by using mounting hardware, which means screw-in J hooks, chains, and S hooks. This setup requires a bit more time to execute, as you do have to screw the J hooks into your trees, securely and in the right position. 
However, because you are actually screwing right into the trees, it’s also by far the most secure, and you won’t come crashing down. On the other hand, by doing this, you are damaging the trees, plus if you mess up the positioning, repositioning it will take some time. 
What you also need to think about is that your hammock should be set up between 18 and 24 inches off the ground, but no higher and no lower. Moreover, the support lines, whatever you have chosen to use, should be at a 30-degree angle from the trees down to the hammock, and tension is important too; you want to create enough tension to keep you upright, but not so much that the hammock is stiff. We also have a more in-depth guide for hanging a hammock.
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Hammock Camping Tips: Final Thoughts
So, a good portion of our hammock camping tips pertain to choosing the right hammock and hammock accessories. We really cannot stress just how important this is. A good rainfly, some bug netting, a comfortable base, and if possible, no more than 1 person per hammock, are all tips that will help when sleeping in a hammock. 
Try not to set up downwind from the campfire, use solid trees, and don’t rush securing the hammock to trees either. The bottom line is that it can be comfortable and fun to sleep in a hammock under the stars, but it needs to be done right and be well-planned.
The post Tips for Hammock Camping appeared first on Camping Console Website.
source https://www.campingconsole.com/hammock-camping-tips/
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anghelfromtheabyss · 7 years
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Stuffies, Fluffy Pillows, Scented Candles, Roasted Marshmallows ((I want to send all the things to Anghel!))
How did you meet your best friend?“Nageki, you are so mean to ask this of me, you know well... I met him in the library, I was being busy working on my forbidden epic and it seems I was disturbing him with the intensity of my working.”What happened in your most recent dream?“I was falling. And it felt so good. I didn’t reach the end of that dream.” How do you relax?“There’s little time to relax in the life of a warrior, though it’s an important part. I like to let go my frustrations on videogames or, when I am very tired, mentally and physically, I like to lie down on my bed and listen to some music.”Your camping with friends! Describe the forest you’re pitching your tent in.“A forest known for legends, surely, I would look for the most haunted forest in the zone and camp there.”(And die because he is scared)
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7fics · 7 years
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Jackbum: Jackson goes to the woods to bury a body but Jaebum is already there burying a body.
Warnings: Character Death, Murder, Other stuff that comes with burying dead bodies in woodsdisclaimer: I do not promote murder, I do not hate any of the characters that die in this fic, it was just for the sake of this fic
Word Count: Just under 2k
Author: Chewt, the writer formerly known as Chewy (I changed my name because author Jenni called me Chewt on accident)
an: this is, honestly, crack with a dash of murder. characters may come off as slightly ooc because i’m making them into murderers and they are not (i don’t think) murderers irl.
Reccomended music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HORkT4a2MhQ
“Duuuuuuude. You’re like a marshmallow. ROASTED!” Jackson pats himself on the back for a very good comeback.
“You didn’t roast me,” Mark reminds him.
“Oh, that’s awkward. I could have sworn we just had a conversation,” Jackson pouts.
“No, I haven’t talked since our first hit a while back, buddy. We’re high, not chatty,” Mark corrects, surprisingly sincere given the subject matter at hand.
“Well fuck you, I’m higher than you!”
“No, I am!”
“Prove it!”
“I can jump off this fucking cliff!”
“Why are we getting high on the side of a fucking cliff?”
“I don’t know but I’m gonna jump!”
“Yeahhhhhhhhhh! Do it! OH MY GOD YOU ACTUALLY— Wait… Mark?” Jackson calls out into the deep recesses of the void.
There’s no response but the echoes of a loud, resounding crunch. Jackson isn’t sure whether to cry in fear of what might have happened to Mark, or celebrate because he actually remembers the word “onomatopoeia” from 8th grade. He decides to do both as he scrambles down the cliff.
Really, it isn’t very high of a fall, and Jackson is sure Mark will be fine. What Jackson hadn’t bet on is Mark’s thin skull taking on the brunt of his thick-headedness. Yes. Mark didn’t jump off the cliff. He dived, like a swan, but without the grace and water to greet him at the bottom.
“What is the point of a brick head if it crumbles on impact?” Jackson laments.
Jackson really isn’t sure what the given procedure is in this scenario, but one thought does resonate. Is he an accomplice to Mark’s murder if Mark murdered himself and technically Jackson egged him on? And, if police come to investigate, surely they’ll arrest him for possession of marijuana. The situation is only looking worse.
Jackson digs around in his pocket for his phone and also inspiration. The fates must surely be looking out for him, because inspiration greets him in the form of tiny beige speckles.
“Mark always wanted to be buried as one of those tree things. I’ll do just that,” Jackson narrates, as now Mark isn’t around to tell him that his life isn’t a movie.
Jackson shakes the seeds back into his pocket, never mind that they’re tomato seeds and not acorns for oak trees. Mark looked best as a redhead anyway. Then, he gets to work tugging, dragging, and lugging. (He rhymes so well because he listens to Jay Z all the time.)
Jackson doesn’t get too far into the woods before he’s panting heavily. “I’m a fencer! We’re based on speed, not stamina!” he cries into the darkness of the forest. “X marks the spot— oh that was totally a pun, get it?” he mutters to himself, slowly spiraling into what must be shock, or maybe he’s still just high. Regardless, there is a task at hand, and Jackson is determined to finish before sunlight. It would be really awkward if somebody caught him digging a grave for a dead body in the middle of the woods.
And that’s why Jackson stumbles across another person not even a minute later. Ridiculous, really. Why must the fates play him in this way, always?
“This isn’t what it looks like! I promise!” He lets Mark thud back down on the ground so he can hold up his hands in the air for good measure.
“It looks like you killed someone, and now you’re trying to cover up the mess,” the other man deadpans. “Even if that isn’t it, you’re still lugging a dead body through the woods and I’d like to see you explain your way out of that one.” The man flicks his hair out of his eyes and at that moment streaks a splash of red across his forehead. Even with Jackson’s nearsightedness, he can make out the bright, foreboding color contrasting against the man’s pale skin in the moonlight.
Jackson contemplates the probability of vampires for a second before his eyes catch sight of the lump by the stranger’s feet. For a moment, Jackson thinks its a leopard, but then realizes that a) leopards don’t live here (he thinks) and b) it’s actually a faux cheetah fur coat that looks pretty shredded (in the literal sense; he can distinguish no muscle mass appearing from beneath the fur. The creepy stranger, on the other hand, is rocking the no-sleeves.)
“Wha-what about you?” Jackson stutters out. He tries to keep his cool in front of a fellow possible kind of murderer, but it’s hard being a newbie to the game of burying a body sketchily in the woods. “Is that a body?” (The question is obviously directed at the cheetah fur pile, because murderer or no, that is definitely a bod and a hot one at that. Now is not the time to think such things though, so Jackson gives himself a small slap on the face for good measure.)
“Yes.”
Taken aback by the blunt answer, Jackson coherently responds, “Oh. What? Illegal!”
“And you aren’t?”
“I’m not an illegal alien that’s what I’m not. No way.” (Nobody has to know that once Jackson went to America for a tournament with a visitation visa instead of a work visa.)
“Ok, but are you or are you not dragging a dead body through the woods and trying to bury secretly without the knowledge of the police?” the man presses.
“Well, if you put it that way… I didn’t kill him though! And still, so are you!”
“Fine, truce, we’re both dragging bodies through the woods and if the police find out, we’re going to get in trouble. What did you even do anyway?”
“Why would I tell you that? You’re a complete stranger! And you could be an ax murderer for all I know! In fact, all evidence points to the fact that you most definitely are at least a murderer, if not an ax murderer!” Jackson is in hysterics as this point. He’s still not really sure what even is going on anymore, just that he needs to move on from this place and bury Mark in some tomato seeds, or something. (But he really can’t help it if the stranger’s arms look positively ravishing.)
“You’re kind of annoying for a fellow murderer, you know? I don’t think I’ll invite you to the Murder In Trees Club after all. It’s MInT for short, you know. I’m Jaebum, by the way.”
This is the hook line sinker that reels Jackson in. “Oh. There’s a CLUB? Why didn’t you say so before, of course I’d love to join! I love making new friends! There is a contract though that says you won’t kill club members, right? Oh, do you have a secret code name? Jaebum? Jaebae? JayJay? JayBee? JB? JB! I’m Jackson, but call me JFlawless.”
Jaebum, or JB now, in Jackson’s mind, looks a little taken aback, but decides to roll with it for now. Because that’s what seasoned murderers are trained to do. “So. What happened to that body?”
Jackson’s face flickers into a thousand expressions before settling on fake smirking. (Jackson isn’t a seasoned murderer but he was a public figure for some time, so not he knows how to deal with these things.) He also realizes that now is not the time to tell the truth if he wants to join the club MInT. (The acronym is cute enough that he forgives the crime required to initiate.)
“Oh, you know,” Jackson begins, casually attempting to lean against a tree (although, being Jackson, of course he misjudged and fell over into the tree), “I was out with this kid, Mark, and we were smoking pot but he was totally hogging so I pushed him off the cliff.”
Jaebum smiles, showing all of his teeth. “Lovely.”
“Thank you, and you?”
“Ah well, really it was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill this one,” Jaebum does the tree lean, and it works perfectly for him and his long limbs. “I work in retail, you see. It’s a kind of hipster clothing brand so most of our customers are already really annoying kids. But this kid, man, his name is Bambam, always comes in with his boyfriend, this other tall ass kid, Yug-something or other.
“Well, they come in all the time. And they’re annoying as hell. Well, Bambam’s just plain annoying, Yugyeom is fine but he always asks for sizes that we don’t have. Usually, Bambam comes in five minutes right before closing time, which, ugh. Blazes through, fucks up all the nicely folded clothes, only buys one or two of the cheapest items and tries to stack as many fucking coupons on the counter as he can fit in his tiny, pre-pubescent hands.
“I can handle rude customers, up to some point. But then one night, he comes in and asks me to put on ‘the mannequin challenge song’ as if I’m some DJ, which I’m not. But he’s the customer, and there’s the boss’s motto, make the customer happy, so I do it. Takes some effort, but it works. I keep on my fake smile, keep my anger in check. Fine. But then he starts dragging the mannequins to and fro, stacking them up so he can ‘to the mannequin challenge but legit’ and then he tries to leave. And that’s when I snapped. I was not having it. Simply not at all.”
“And then what happened?” Jackson ventures. He’s a little fascinated and awed by the fury of JB’s rant. He’s pretty sure he heard a few actual real live growls, and JB’s chin seems to have elongated over the course of the rant as well.
“I’m not that good at controlling my anger. This happened,” and he kicks the dead body over, the shredded cheetah print pimp coat falling apart.
“Huh. Or maybe you’re just a gross necrophiliac. Why is the poor boy half naked?” Jackson questions.
“Because that is a horrendous coat. Would you ever wear something like that in public?”
“True.”
“Anyway,” Jaebum continues, “I only like to fuck warm bodies like yours.”
Jackson opens his mouth to respond, but suddenly he can’t get out a single word and they’re pressed up against each other, making out with a passion that Jackson has never experienced before. He’s almost sure they’ll end up doing the do in the woods, when there’s a loud crunch as Jackson stumbles across Mark’s hand.
“Oh.” He’d forgotten about the dead bodies part. “You know what. I’m way too high for this. We’ll just promise each other that we’ll keep this a secret between the two of us, and go our own ways. Thanks for the invitation to MInT, but I’ll pass.” Jackson turns to go, and then collapses where he stands.
“I’m sorry,” says Jaebum, standing over Jackson’s prone body. “The only way to keep a secret is if nobody knows it happened.”
Jaebum decides he’s not really that sorry. Jinyoung’s birthday is coming up, and he’ll need more than just Bambam’s thin body if he wants to harvest enough human skin to print a single edition book for Jinyoung. It really doesn’t help that Jinyoung tends not to go for the shorter books, either.
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Steak-umm is using anti-consumerism to get you to buy. Snooze.
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Twitter has a new therapist. Surprise, surprise, it's a frozen steak brand.
Last week, the legendary frozen meat Steak-umm had a Network-style outburst on Twitter, touching on everything from college debt to unemployment to millennial nihilism. Steak-umm had been building up to this moment for months, having previously explored the relationship between love and beef and waged Twitter war against fellow 'woke' industrial food brand Moon Pie. 
The brand's recent monologue was its most explosive and self-aware yet. 
If only any of it was real.
SEE ALSO: Scott Walker's latest ad is one of the most bizarre campaign ads of 2018
Historically, people haven't turned to frozen steak for spiritual guidance. According to Steak-umm, viral tweets by brands are only possible now because millennials experience unprecedented economic anxiety. Millennials identify with these brands, the brand goes on to write, because they feel detached from everything else, including real jobs, mental health services and physical communities
Here's their Marxist cultural analysis of the situation:
why are so many young people flocking to brands on social media for love, guidance, and attention? I'll tell you why. they're isolated from real communities, working service jobs they hate while barely making ends meat, and are living w/ unchecked personal/mental health problems
— Steak-umm (@steak_umm) September 26, 2018
  they often don't have parents to talk to because they say stuff like "you don't know how good you have it," and they don't have mentors to talk to because most of them have no concept for growing up in this strange time, which perpetuates the feeling of helplessness/loneliness
— Steak-umm (@steak_umm) September 26, 2018
they grew up through the dawn of internet culture and have had mass advertising drilled into their media consumption, now they're being resold their childhoods by remakes, sequels, spinoffs, and other cheap nostalgia, making them more cynical to growth or authenticity
— Steak-umm (@steak_umm) September 26, 2018
no soundcloud to add here. at the end of the day it’s easy to tweet about problems and complain about “the other,” it’s a lot harder to improve the self and work toward solutions be encouraged and have hope my beeflings, the world needs it
— Steak-umm (@steak_umm) September 26, 2018
With over 47,000 likes and write-ups by the likes of Vox and the AV Club, Steam-umm's rant quickly reached viral prominence. It's the type of success ad companies like Allebach Communications, who operates the Twitter account, dream of. And while followers were quick to note its "revolutionary" qualities, Steak-umm was actually using one of the oldest ad tricks in the book: disguising an ad campaign under an anti-consumerist cloak.
Anti-ad advertising has a history
Take Volkswagen. In 1959, Volkswagen marketed the Beetle with a subtle anti-car-ad print campaign. At a time when most car ads depicted oversized cars against panoramic naturalistic backdrops, VW did exactly the opposite. Their print ads featured a tiny automobile driving through a blank canvas of space.
oops, the headline was supposed to read "Don't think small" #Advertising #typo @vw @Adweek pic.twitter.com/RxoGFQQH7q
— Circa (@circa_now) July 19, 2018
"Think small," the ad advised, while winking. Thirteen years later, the VW surpassed the Ford Model-T to become the most successful automobile in history.
Like Steak-umm, VW's ad campaign was explosively popular at a time (the Mad Men era) when many consumers were struggling with ad fatigue. 
Over a half century later, Sprite capitalized on that very same exhaustion with a commercial featuring LeBron James. 
“I’d never tell you to drink Sprite, even if I was in a commercial for Sprite, which I am,” James says.
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By identifying, not minimizing, the artifice of the celebrity endorsement, "self-aware" Sprite sought to build a bond with more cynical consumers.
Some brands are even more self-aware about their approach. Two years ago, Oasis led an ad campaign with a skeletal pitch: they sold drinks. Unlike other refreshment brands, however, their brand was "free" of self-promotion:
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It was a clever disguise, but it could only go so far.
Social issues are a great distraction from mediocre products
There's more than one way to use anti-consumerism to fuel an ad campaign. In the past, brands similar to Steak-umm have partially detached from the product they're marketing to take on broader and far more engaging cultural issues.
Remember when Heineken, America's most overrated imported beer, decided to address political polarization?
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Or when Burger King — the franchise best known for squeezing frozen meat between tepid diaper buns — was applauded for taking on bullying with an explosively viral ad? #BeBest
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Deadpool, a movie that should never have been successful, was valorized for using its ad time to push for testicle exams.
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Similarly, Chipotle received acclaim and a New York Times write-up for their anti-factory farming campaign. One Chipotle-produced short film, 'The Scarecrow,' even earned a modestly favorable New Yorker review: "The Scarecrow, with those trembling, obsidian eyes, seems like a sensitive soul; if he showed up in our world with a craving for an inexpensive burrito, I think he’d appreciate Chipotle’s efforts."
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And sure, Chipotle is superior to many of their competitors when it comes to ethically sourced ingredients. It just feels bizarre to be awarding social justice points to a franchise best known for E. Coli outbreaks.
I'm not sure who gave cultural authority to either the Whopper Jr. or Ryan Reynolds (was it Mashable? I'm so sorry. It was Mashable). Steak-umm might argue that Deadpool has a stronger relationship to millennials than, say, the National Institute of Health, because of cultural alienation. Americans are exposed to over 4,000 ads per day. You're more likely to see an ad for a brand than you are a tweet from the president. 
Ad saturation has strengthened consumers' relationship with brands, even as it's made them more skeptical.  
Steak-umm isn't wrong. But I'd like to think it's simpler than that: consumers like ads that appear authentic and self-aware. No matter that the that authenticity in advertising is ultimately a fantasy. Ads are here for one reason: to sell you shit you don't need.
If you have an authentic voice, you can build an authentic following. 
The "authentic" brand voice
No wonder, then, that brands on Twitter — Steak-umm, MoonPie, Wendy's — have all adopted an identical digital voice. They're gently biting, nostalgic, tongue-in-cheek, friendly, and  amorphously political. When they do discuss issues, they keep it across-the-spectrum and safe — decrying political polarization and college debt — and never address topics that might impact their own brands (ahem, a $15 minimum wage).
Even sarcastic Steak-umm signs their philosophical  tweets with "Steak-umm bless."
Look at MoonPie, recently dubbed one of the "funniest and most personable brands on Twitter." Never mind that MoonPie isn't so much a person as it is a mass-produced highly processed marshmallow pie. The brand earned over a billion impressions for responding "Lol ok" in response to a Hostess boast.
Lol ok.
Lol ok https://t.co/lobyuNOkee
— MoonPie (@MoonPie) August 21, 2017
Wendy's infamous Twitter roasts garnered it an impressive three hundred thousand Twitter followers in just three months. 
So please. Follow Steak-umm if you must but let's not pretend this scrap steak is a Twitter prophet. Ads, disguised as anti-consumerist rants and raves, are advertising 101. It was a print strategy, later adopted for video and now for digital. 
Steak-umm blesses only those who buy.
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pinegreenram · 6 years
Text
Something was in today, but only two people could feel that.
It was yesterday. A few hours ago, Ram was in the living room, sitting on the couch.
Yeah. Just sitting there. He sat on the couch's cusions motionlessly as he blankly stared out at the living room window. The Three Idiots In The Background were actually indoors, doing some fun activity that he couldn't care about.
It was all fun and stuff until it came to him. It was... not really a thought? It felt more like an emotion to him. A sensation, if you would prefer.
And this emotion made him stop. Something about the way the emotion was built made him feel. Felt... bad. Scared. Angry. Remorse.
A lot to take in for such an emotion. He couldn't just sit there and process it like that. Not in front of these people. Somewhere private.
Ram turned his head toward the crew in an awkward position. Stuart, Cynthia, Welly were in the kitchen. The air smelled like fluffly marshmallows as Welly giggled vibratnly to herself.
It was a struggle, but he got up without causing quite as much of a commotion. As he limped past the kitchen room, Stuart turned to look, and gave him a questioning glance before going back. It's not that bad, right? Mustn't be.
=
In the bathroom, there is only silence. No crickets. No clocks. No anything else. Just the silent creaks of rotten men.
The room was an isolation chamber for him. A personal headquarter. Just for him and him only.
And here he sat. Where the toilet seat stood was what he used as his chair. It wasn't a comfortable seat, because it didn't have any cushion. But, it worked anyway.
Just sitting there. Thinking to himself. He was in a very deep thought train. It was so deep that he refused to move. He didn't even fidget. It was quite peculiar. But, he still thought.
With hands rested on his lap, he clenched them tightly. These thoughts were disturbing rnough to do that. His face showed contempt, even if he wasn't supposed to feel this way.
He finally closed his eyes shut. He couldn't look at anything if he wanted to think deeper.
=
It was March. March of something. Something was happening today. There was always something happening today.
Ram was here. He sat on the floor. Beaten up, mutilated horribly, and bleeding a bit. Somehow, she had managed to hurt his leg enough to render it useless. That was going to take about 4 hours to fix, at most. Alas, he still held on. Kept a smile with it as a form of mockery.
Cynthia was also here. She held a spiked bat that was caked in oozing old meat. Clasping the club tighter, she brought back the bat and slammed it down onto him, making sure that the rusted nails would enter deep into his eye holes. Let the iron sprinkle in like adding salt.
A straight blow.
He groaned out in pain, wheezed slightly, and then chuckled. The little girl was so tired of this. She heaved and breathed hard. She was out of stamina. Out of her will to live. Just staring at him like this made her feel angry about her fatigue.
"Are... are you..." Ram took this sentence to sharly inhale. He shifted into an uncomfortable position as he awaited for a good response from her. "...done? Doing whatever that... is?"
He tried to be funny, but it only ended in hissing. He was in pain, and it hurt so much. Taking many repeated bats to the face isn't a pleasant feeling.
"If it'll make you stop saying your stupid jokes, then yes." Cynthia retorted as she threw the bat away. It almost struck his leg. "I'm done, I guess."
"You know... Nothing is gonna stop... me from making jokes about you, little... little girl! You make it easy to. For me."
She looked at him funny, because she understood what he meant. In a sense, I guess she was a little predictable in some ways. However, she wasn't going to let this insult affect her. Not like that.
"Alright. I guess nothing is going to stop you from doing that. But, I can-"
Cynthia suddenly stopped. It's like as if she was suddenly caught into a deep assessment of some kind. Someone shut her action down.
Ram shakily reached his bloody claw put at her. He was trying to hold her hand. Closer and closer it went. He only managed to brush her forearm lightly before she snapped into her reality. Cynthia pulled her hand away and dug it behind her pocket. She almost seemed surprised, but she was not. Her tiny little hands hesitated behind something as she spoke with a wavering voice, “He- Stuart told me some things when he died, and I wanted to confirm if it was true. Will you let me.”
Ram scoffed. And then he coughed some meat up, but he still tried to laugh. “Really? Really now?” He wheezed out like an accordion. “He’s... a lying little... bugger... and you shouldn’t have... trusted him, but I’ll let you do something right. Just this once, darling.” Ram managed to give a snooty little smile, before sputtering into a brief coughing fit.
“Well, first of all, he said that you had him longer than me. Do you know what this means?”
Ah. Easy question. Ram is a little excited to answer that. Sick fuck.
“3 years... 3 years... of me. He was a riot to handle.”
Cynthia looked absolutely shocked. When he was alive, he had only hinted a little bit toward the amount, which only made her curious. She saw a lot of scars over his body one time, and she couldn’t hold her urge to ask. However, questions she asked were only answered with an uneasy silence. Terrifying thought to think. She wouldn’t stand that long.
Ram knew that question made her feel bad, so he laughed again. This one was actually succssful, though it wasn’t loud. Cynthia tried to maintain composure by asking again.
“S-second, he said that you hurt pride. Making people feel like utter shit was something that you enjoyed. But, I don’t want to ask for confirmation. I just wanna know why.”
Ooh, another good question. Intensity flared up.
“Why not? Am I not allowed to... feel great about myself. You.... weak little humans are always so... happy with eachother that you don’t... You don’t talk about the suffering kids who die everyday...” Ram paused. Thinking. “When I first saw you... I thought you were amazingly... cute...? You had that air of innocence that I... wanted to destroy. It annoyed me.”
He crawled up toward her like a zombie. He didn’t get far, but he still got a reaction from her.
“Did I do my job well? I mean... oh, goodness... look at you. You’re so... unhappy and it’s humorous... You have no one, and you never will. I took everything... Everything... just so that it would happen. A little pest like you didn’t need happiness, like him.” He ended his talk with a laugh much louder than before.
Fucking. God.
This made her so angry. So infuriating. She grated her teeth so hard that it would soon start hurting. Her fingers that she wrapped around her tools were gripped, and it was apparent with her white knuckles. She couldn’t. She couldn’t stand this any longer.
Her voice spoke out, though it was more of a yell. She may as well be yelling, because her voice was loud and strong. She’s determined.
“I have one last thing to say to you.”
Cynthia finally whipped out the items from her pocket. A full lighter with hair spray.
“I won.”
Click. She had spun the flint wheel. Fate landed in her hands.
=
The ray of heat burst out and landed on his arm. At first, there wasn’t any pain to experience. This wasn’t a joke, was it? No, he just-
It was now hurting. Hot-white flames tickled the deathly flesh of his body, and it began. Ram soundlessly started to freak out, but it was only going to get better. He frantically used his other hand to try and put the fire out, but it only caught on. Both hands were now burning up. It was going to spread, but he didn’t realize that.
He looked at Cynthia, who was cold, and stagnant. In his best efforts, he lunged at her, to try and get her caught too, but she backed away before he felt the floor. She knew this was an attack, and she lit the lighter again.
Her aim was steady and slow. Roasted him straight on the back.
So now his entire upper half was on fire. It quickly got to his legs.
Ram screamed out, and it sounded like Satan had come onto the doorstep to have a chat. Trust me on this, it was terrible. A mix of cruel animal whimpers followed an ear-piercing cacophony of his earlier victims. Some were slow, and some were fast. But, it all sounded to painful.
“...YOU. YOU FUCKING... I-“ Was all he could say, as the flames had started to worm into his body. It was a powerful short sentence.
This was it. This was the best that she could do. Cynthia, a logical person, turned heel and dashed away, slamming the bathroom door shut with a thundering boom. If she wasn’t so focused on herself, then she would’ve noticed that she was starting to cry. Her breathing was irregular, and her throat felt sticky as she witnessed it. Fortunately, she knew what was better for her, and fled.
God, ow. It hurt. The fire that was quickly charring his skin off overrode all the damage of the bat, which could only make it considerably worse. His senses were numbing up because of it, and it got so bad that he couldn’t do anything. If he could feel his original arm, then he would’ve known that it was completely gone.
Ram starting having memories. Flashbacks. He saw the cultists, and then he saw the children. The twins. Widowed man. Stuart. And now? He felt dizzy to the core. All this pain had given him a massive headache, and it seemed like it would go on forever if he had continued to live.
Just a little sleep would do, eh? Just... sleep it off... a rest, if you call it one.
Sleep for an eternity.
=
@perc-perc-perc
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