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suspiciouslackofclowns · 2 years

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People have always been afraid of Eddie on a very superficial level. He got good at talking his way out of situations, out of fights that he no doubt would have lost. But talking only takes you so far. At one point or another, someone's not going to care about whatever it is that he has to say, and they're gonna start swinging.

That's where the scary dog privileges come in.

He hasn't dealt with Jason Carver or any of the other asshole jocks in months. Turns out, not even the Hawkins Boy's Basketball Team wants to test their luck against Billy Hargrove.

Billy, with his mean, obnoxious car and bad attitude, has warded bullies away from Eddie like garlic to vampires.

And all Eddie has to do is... hang around the guy.

It's not so bad. They're neighbors in the trailer park, so anytime one of them doesn't wanna skulk around the house, they bum around the other's place. Sometimes they lie down in the jungle gym in the center of the park and smoke some of Eddie's better supply until it's dark out.

Eddie was surprised at first when he started being invited to parties. Not just any parties, the good ones. The ones that had better alcohol and less people. The ones that required an actual invitation.

Sure, he was always Billy's plus one, but still. He was hanging around the "it" crowd and it was strange, to say the least.

To be privy to the hot gossip that stayed in the upper circles of the high school hierarchy.

Not that he really gave a shit about that.

He was in it for the free booze and the shenanigans — the times that Tommy H. would dare Steve to hop his neighbor's fence and steal garden gnomes out of their yard, or when Billy would fall out of a tree that he drunkenly climbed because he was laughing too hard. The fun stuff.

Eddie eventually started realizing that he really enjoyed Billy's company. Like, really enjoyed it. He'd get excited when he'd hear a tap on his window in the dead of night, knowing that he was being beckoned out for a night of fun.

Sometimes it just stayed the two of them. Eddie would buy a six pack and they'd go somewhere private — maybe park out by the quarry and sit in the back of his van while they listened to metal and talked and drank. And then... well, it took a while to get the blond to open up, but he started to speak of things outside of Tommy Hagan's parties and babes from California.

He talked of his mom. Of his little sister, who Eddie had seen him get into screaming matches with fairly often, and how much he tried to be a better person for her. For them both.

It was unspeakably soft.

Eddie, at some point, lost touch with the part of himself that feared Billy. How could he not? He looks at the guy and all he can think about is how softly he speaks when he's comfortable. How easy and laidback he is during the late hours of the night when he fights sleep just to keep the conversation going.

So, yeah, now Eddie gets met with weird looks in the hallways at school when he invades Billy's personal space. Jumps on his back and shoves him around playfully, even ropes an arm around his neck when they walk and talk together.

Completely openly unafraid.

Tommy tried to test the waters one afternoon during lunch. Reached an arm around Billy’s shoulders and patted his chest while he was making some point that didn't matter, and Billy twisted his wrist. Made him whimper and pull away with a confused look on his face.

And, god, was Eddie absolutely thrilled when he found out that he was the only person allowed that close. The only person who could do it without being snapped at.

It eventually stopped being enigmatic and became more of an expectation. If you saw Billy out and about, Eddie wasn't far behind.

"Hey, sorry I’m late," Eddie says.

He slings his arms around Billy's neck from behind. Presses up against him and tilts their heads together.

"Hey." Billy takes a drag from the cigarette perched between his fingers. "Where've you been? People have been asking me where my boyfriend is."

Eddie snickers at that.

"Sorry. Got held up helping Wayne around the house."

"'S okay. You haven't missed much."

He glances around the basement, spies Steve and Tommy bent over the billiard table with intense focus in their eyes, and Chrissy chatting with Heather and a few other ladies in the corner. It's practically all cheerleaders and jocks milling around. More like a work function and less like a high school party.

Eddie prefers the smaller hangouts with just the main group, but he's not complaining. Free beer and free food are some of his favorite things. Even if he’s not getting to help Steve and Tommy steal Principal Higgins’ car or something right now.

"God, Munson, not even here for five minutes and you're already spooning up to Hargrove," Jason says and earns a few laughs. "Why don't you just get it over with and rent a room out at the Motel 6?"

Billy tenses up, but doesn't move away. So Eddie does all he can think to do.

Makes a scene.

He smirks and slides his hands down to Billy's waist to grab at his hips. Hooks his chin over his shoulder and grinds against him, humming delightedly when Jason's face turns white.

"Jealous, Carver? If you want us gone so bad, you could go ahead and pay for our room," he lilts. Turns inwards towards Billy's neck and noses fondly at his skin. "Hell, you could probably join us. Whatcha say, baby, you wanna have a little fun with the basketball captain?”

He coos the last part into Billy's ear sensually. Smooths one of his hands up the expanse of his abdomen, fingers spread, and grinds against his back again.

Everyone's looking. Jason has gone from ghost white to burning red, and Eddie's not sure if he's flustered or if he's angry.

The best part of it all is that Billy doesn't pull away.

"No offense, but I'd rather fuck a tree stump," Billy says.

His tone is flat. Unamused. Like he's above this whole conversation entirely. Eddie juts his bottom lip out in a pout.

"Sorry, Jason. Baby says no."

The room erupts in chuckles, and Jason clears his throat. Turns his attention back to his drink.

Billy takes another puff from his cigarette, tilting his head back against Eddie's shoulder as the smoke fills his lungs. Still unfazed by Eddie's closeness.

"You want a drink, baby?" Billy teases.

He turns to Eddie. Exhales the smoke like fire into his face. The brunet just grins.

"We getting drunk tonight?"

"Mhm."

"Cool."

Part 2 is here

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #tommy hagan #steve harrington #jason carver #ficlet #my writing #silly metalhead duo #Billy let’s him be clingy bc he’s touch starved and Eddie is fantastic at cuddling #jason is afraid of The Gays

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quillpokebiology · 11 months

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Ooc: Places that I think should be pokemon regions

I want these so bad omg.

Texas, USA

As much as a dislike Texas, a region based on it would be nice. It could also bring a lot of neat pokemon. Imagine the wild areas too!

South Africa

Or just an African region in general. I don't have a reason for this other than the cool pokemon that could come with it, and I have pokemon OCs that are from a pokemon version of South Africa. It probably won't happen because Japan has a lot of xenophobia and racism, but I can hope (They added a Hawaiin region and I know that's US territory, but all 3/4 Kahunas were Hawaiin and dark skinned, so it could be closer than we think)

Egypt

5th grade me made an Egyptian pokemon region called Asaro. I never worked on it much, but I remember making a ghost type eeveelution that was a mummy (it was a regional variant of the OG ghost type I made). If they were to ever make an African pokemon region, Egypt would be the best one.

Italy

I literally have no reason for this other than I think the towns could look nice.

Australia

I think the next pokemon region is going to be Asutralian because each gen gives us a hint to the next (Example: Pokemon swsh showed art of a cherry and a grape in the hotel, which is pokemon sv). For Pokemon Scarlet, we got an image of a mountain that resembles a mountain in Asutralia.

I think an Asutralian region would be super cool. I actually had an Australian region in 5th grade called Sonin, and I want the Australian region to be real so bad to bring 5th grade me peace.

Midwest, USA

Reason? I live in the Midwest, and I want a region where I can stand in and be like "Omfg, I live here." Specifically, I live in Nebraska, but the entire midwest is the exact fucking same, so it doesn't tmatter if they choose one state or combine all of it. I even have some cool fakemon ideas! Example: a cardinal fakemon that looks like a thief, a maid raccoon because they're actually pretty clean, and the early grass types you find that turn into hot plant ladies could be corn. My friend actually made one when we were younger, and I made a map of it during quarantine. I remember making a cool town that was underground and held a ground-type gym leader.

China

I don't have any reasoning for this. I just think it'd be neat. OH WAIT! I just remembered an old fakemon I made named Fumo! It was a starter for a Chinese based region I don't remember the name of, and it was a red panda. I remember liking it a lot, and I might redraw it some day!

India

India is a really big place, and it'd probably be the biggest region. Honestly, they might just have to choose a section of India. But India has a lot of culture, and also has 1 billion people, so a lot of fans would be able to relate to it.

Mexico

There's actually an artist @voidarkana who is working in a Mexican region on their insta. I'm actually surprised we haven't gotten one, or at least hinted at one sooner (I can because Japan is xenophobic as hell). Buy there could be cool things with a Mexican region. And could you imagine the mythical and regional variants??? Imagine an Alebreje pokemon, or a Dia de los Muertos Houndoom!

Brazil

I made one in 5th grade (I made a lot of shit in 5th grade). I don't remember what it was called. I think it was Bravo or something? Idk. I want this because RAINFOREST WILD AREA. Imagine climbing on these massive vines with the newer graphics, and being able to go on the canopy! Or imagine a town in a rainforest and it'd be a cool treetop city! It'd be like Fortree city, but so much better!

Germany

Germany has a lot of culture, which I think would be fun to explore in pokemon. Plus, they could make SO many pokenon off of the Grimm's fairytales.

California, USA

California is gross, expensive, and polluted irl, but it could be super nice in a pokemon game.

Canada

I made a Canadian region named Calle in 5th grade, and I liked it a lot. It's where I had a Buneary regional variant that was ice type and had these cute little slippers. And one of the starters was an ice type hare, and I thought it was super cute.

Greece

A YouTuber had an idea for one, and I liked it a lot. I don't remember who made it, but they had the idea of the gym leaders being based off the gods, and the champion being based on a Greek Hero. That'd be so cool!

#ignore how if they did all of these it would be in the span of 42 years #rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #pokeblog #irl pokemon #pokemon #pokeblr #rotumblr #pkmn irl #pokemon roleplay #irl pkm #ooc post

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writersuffertwice · 2 years

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little bit of help

stranger things

robin buckley x reader

"I just think it's ridiculous that my little brother and his girlfriend have better communication skills than Jonathan and I do," Nancy said, turning the wheel of her car down the cement path that led toward the high school.

Ever since Jonathan had called to tell Nancy that he wouldn't be coming back to Indiana for the break, Nancy had been passive-aggressively finding every way she could to discuss how ridiculous it was that he wasn't coming, Out of spite, she refused to go to California to see him, creating this bubble of angst that followed her around wherever she went.

"You could always go to-"

"I'm not going to California!" she shouted, whipping the car into a parking space. Even with the seatbelt, the aggression of her action nearly sent me crashing into the passenger door. "He told me he was coming here and he doesn't even have a good reason for not coming. He just wants to be there for his college letter to come, and it might not even come. Joyce could call him if it did. Even Will. It's not like it wouldn't be there when he got back."

"Maybe he's gotten it already and he doesn't want to disappoint you," I suggested, turning to face her now that the car was in park. "Or he's afraid that this college thing is going to tear you guys apart. Have you ever considered the fact that you guys might go to different colleges next year?"

"Of course I have," Nancy said, turning to the backseat to grab her backpack.

Her answer wasn't a surprise. Anyone that knew Nancy knew that she had developed a tendency to prepare for the worst. Since Barb had been killed in the Demogorgon's invasion of Hawkins a few years ago, Nancy hadn't allowed herself a moment to breathe. If she wasn't pursuing the truth for someone else, she was protecting her family and friends from the monsters threatening to spill into Hawkins from the Upside Down. If it wasn't that, she was preparing for her future. The one that logically included her current boyfriend.

"He should be able to tell me if something isn't working," she said, her voice soft. "I deserve that, don't I?"

"Of course you do, Nance," I sighed, placing a comforting hand over hers. "Maybe he's working his way up to it. If it's not working for you, then you need to do whatever brings you peace of mind."

Nancy gave me a soft smile. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe the distance is still taking its toll and maybe more distance is what we need."

I returned her smile. She turned to look in the mirror on her sun visor, adjusting a few strands of her hair. I watched her for a moment, catching sight of another car turning into the parking lot through her window. Inside, I could see the neat and somehow hasty looking head of hair that belonged to Steve Harrington, and his passenger that I would recognize anywhere.

"Hello," Nancy sang. "Are you listening to me?"

"Hm?"

"I asked if you were ready," she said. "To go in?"

"Uh yeah. Sorry."

Grabbing my backpack from the floor of the front seat, I sat it in my lap, making sure the zippers were closed. Nothing was worse than the wind blowing a stack of paper all across the parking lot at 8 a.m. After chasing them all down, no one even needed gym class.

Nancy looked out of her window and nearly pulled on her door handle to climb out of the car, but paused when she caught sight of the same car I'd noticed a few moments ago. She turned back to me with a knowing smile on her face.

"Ah, now I see why you weren't listening."

"What are you talking about?"

"Robin," she said knowingly. "Is she still avoiding you?"

"Like the plague."

Nancy stifled a laugh. "Have you tried talking to Steve? Maybe he can help."

“By what? Handcuffing her to the chair? No matter where I run into her, no matter what I try to say to her, she says like two words and then runs off. I mean, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Maybe she’s nervous.”

“Because of me? She runs away from me like all the jocks do when they see Eddie Munson coming down the hall.”

Nancy laughed. “People get nervous when they see someone they like. Robin’s not exactly the most eloquent with words.”

“That’s not true. She’s totally coherent. Really smart too. I mean without her, Steve and Dustin never would’ve cracked that Russian code, and for all we know, we could all be dead. They probably wouldn't have gotten out of there without her and Erica," I said. "Sure, sometimes she rambles and it’s a little hard to understand, but passion makes people sound incoherent sometimes. I think it’s kind of cute how riled up she gets about the weirdest shit,” I trailed off, catching sight of Nancy’s lopsided smile. “Shit, was I doing it again?”

“Yeah,” Nancy grinned. “It’s cute though. I’ve never seen you have heart eyes over anything. Except for Jennifer Beals and Irene Cara, or anything Flashdance related.”

“Hey!” I argued. “If you can have your Tom Cruise obsession, I can have mine.”

Nancy snorted. “Okay, okay. You’re right. I’m not judging, I just think it’s sweet."

She cast a glance out of her window toward Steve’s car. Robin was still seated inside and when Nancy looked over, both Robin and Steve’s heads quickly averted from our direction. Nancy shook her head, eyes finding mine.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You’re gonna need some help.”

“Is my only option Steve? Because that doesn’t seem to be going very well.”

Nancy rolled her eyes, climbing out of the car. I followed suit and the two of us met where the hood of her car came to a point. I looked toward Steve’s car, waving at him and Robin. Steve enthusiastically returned my wave and with some goading from Steve, Robin gave me one of her own. Instead of the smile one would hope to have paired with a wave, Robin wore an expression that almost looked like she was going to vomit.

“I think she hates me,” I told Nancy, who only shook her head and laughed.

What I didn’t know was that Robin’s morning hadn’t started much different than mine. Steve spent most of the morning droning on and on about his unsuccessful dating life before turning to focus on Robin’s. When they pulled into the school parking lot, Steve spotted Nancy’s car and the girl that sat beside his ex-girlfriend at the front of the car.

“Have you talked to her yet?” he asked.

Robin scoffed, looking toward the two girls inside Nancy’s car. “Are you kidding? My limbs turn to mush every time she talks to me.”

“Your limbs turn to mush all the time. You’re very uncoordinated.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the profound observation, Steve. She just make me–”

“Nervous. I get it,” Steve said. “But if you keep looking like you’re going to vomit whenever she talks to you, she’s going to think you hate her.”

“I couldn’t hate her,” Robin scoffed with wide eyes. Steve knew that as a sign that she was about to start rambling. “She’s the epitome of perfection. Her smile is so bright that I swear I can’t see anything within a ten-foot radius. When she looks at me, I feel like I’m on fire. You know, like that song by The Doors? I only know that because she wore that t-shirt of the band one day and I did like a deep dive into their discography–”

“Robin,” Steve cut in. “You need to talk to her. At the very least, stay still when she talks to you. All you need to do is listen and speak. You’re good at that.”

“Stay still? Listen and speak? That’s your advice?”

Steve nodded, his eyes still focused on Nancy’s car. “I bet Nancy’s telling her the same thing.”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “You think they’re talking about me?” She looked toward the car and after noticing the two were already looking in her and Steve’s direction, she quickly looked toward the school. “Shit. Do you think they saw that?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you want to die alone?”

Robin smacked his arm. “Getting girls to go on dates might be easy for you, but some of us are socially awkward. I mean getting along with you at the mall was purely coincidental.”

“You’re not that socially awkward. You’re just nervous around the girl you like. That’s totally normal.”

“Not for you.”

“Not true. Nancy made me nervous. I was shitting bricks before I asked her out.” Steve’s eyes were on the two girls who had now exited the car, walking right past his car. The subject of their conversation waved at them, which he happily returned. He glanced over at Robin, who looked mortified. “Robin. Wave back. It’s rude.”

“I’m trying,” Robin reasoned, despite being motionless. “I’m thinking it in my head but my arms are refusing to move.”

Steve rolled his eyes, lifting the girl’s elbow. Robin wiggled her fingers as much as she could, but she knew the look on her face gave away her discomfort.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “You need help.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

By the time the pep rally rolled around that afternoon, I’d done everything in my power not to think about Robin. All things considered, I’d done pretty well, but that came to an end when the band was forced onto the court to play the music for the athletes to run out to.

Nancy nudged me sharply the moment they began walking toward the bleachers, and not even I had managed to spot Robin yet. Nancy had even gotten there late and somehow managed to find her with ease.

One of the guys in the second row ducked their head to tune their instrument one final time, giving me plenty of time to spot Robin bouncing on her heels behind them. I smiled to myself, noting how miraculous it was that she managed to pull off that horrid band costume. The green of her hat brought out the lightness of her eyes, even from way back here.

A third of the way through, Nancy had to excuse herself to finish the layout for the paper. I decided to stay long enough to see Lucas jog out with the rest of the basketball team and the band to disperse before I got up to go to the bathroom.

Whoever had the idea to have the pep rally right after lunch was an idiot.

After managing to make it off the bleachers without tripping, I practically ran toward the nearest bathroom to relieve my bladder. As I was washing my hands in the sink, I heard someone muttering under their breath in the large stall at the end. It wasn’t until the sink turned off that I could begin to hear what they were saying.

“Even with a shit budget, the least they could have done was gotten a costume with a working zipper.”

I stifled a laugh at the complaint. It came from a voice I knew all too well.

“Robin?”

There was a soft thud from inside the stall. “Uh, hi.”

“Everything okay in there?”

“Yeah,” she said shakily. “These band costumes are just the gift that keeps on giving.”

“I’d say so,” I said with a smile I knew she couldn’t see. “That green really brings out the color of your eyes.”

Another thud. “Uh, thanks.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“Yeah,” Robin squeaked out. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” I fumbled around my words. “I can help. If you want me to.”

I waited to hear another thud but it didn’t come.

After a moment, the latch of the stall door squeaked open and Robin’s back was unveiled to me. She had gotten the coat off but the shirt she’d worn underneath had a zipper along the back that was caught in the strap of what I thought was a tank top. My eyes went wide at the sight and I swallowed deeply as I waited for her instruction.

“The uh zipper is caught in my–”

“I see,” I said quickly, Too quickly. “I mean, I can see the zipper stuck to the strap.”

Robin released a giggle that sent my heart into a short game of hopscotch. “I’ve never heard you get so flustered around me,” she said. “Normally that’s me.”

“There’s still time,” I said with a teasing smile. “As long as you don’t run away from me this time.”

Robin groaned. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It happens.”

I raised my hands, clasping and unclasping my fingers as I tried to work up the courage to bring them toward her back. “So you want me to–”

“Yeah,” Robin stumbled. “Could you just untangle it? If you’re comfortable.”

I released a shaky breath. “Yeah. I can try.”

My fingers wrapped around the soft black fabric of her shirt, while the fingers of my other hand touched the nude strap of what lay beneath it. In fumbling to grasp the silky strap, my fingertips brushed the skin of her back. Small goosebumps peppered her skin just as I got ready to tug the fabric apart, wary of any potential tears.

“You know,” I began, lightly tugging on the two pieces of fabric. “This isn’t how I imagined seeing your bra for the first time.”

Robin turned her head over her shoulder slightly, but not enough to meet my eyes.

“You’ve thought about this a lot?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

Robin stifled a laugh. “For the record,” she began slowly. “I do like you. I mean, Steve’s been riding my ass about it every day for the past three months. He kept telling me I was going to scare you off.”

“Gave Nancy some good entertainment,” I smiled. “She kept telling me to hang in there but I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Not unless you actually managed to tell me to.”

Robin snorted. “Even if I could’ve talked to you before without wanting to vomit, I wouldn’t have said that.” She laughed to herself. “Who would’ve thought that being half-naked in a bathroom stall would make my shyness go away?”

I joined in with her laughter, exhaling a slight sigh of relief when the two pieces of fabric snapped back to their own spaces.

“Well, since you’re not running away from me this time and we’re in the perfect place if you need to puke,” I began. “Do you want to go out this weekend? We could go see a movie? Unless you’re sick of that from the video store.”

“No!” Robin said quickly, spinning around with her shirt clutched against her chest. “I love movies. I’d like to go. I don’t work on Sunday but I work Saturday afternoon. Or we could go Friday night–”

“Robin,” I laughed. “Why don’t I come by Saturday when your shift is over? Even if it’s late, we can make a night out of it. Plus, I want to see the expression on Steve’s face when we leave together.”

“Okay,” Robin grinned. “Thanks for helping me. Really glad you had to pee.”

I returned her grin. “Thanks for not running away this time.”

What neither of us knew was that Fred had stopped Robin in the hallway, talking to her about some paper for their history class. Their conversation had made her late for the pep rally, meaning she had to rush to get on her costume. Nancy had coincidentally run into Robin in the bathroom and zipped up her back, making sure that one piece of fabric was caught in the zipper of another.

Nancy was right. I guess I needed a bit of help after all.

#robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #robin buckley

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visceravalentines · 1 year

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Murph Connors NSFW Alphabet Headcanons

there are exactly 4 Murph gifs so you get these guys instead. it's symbolic <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Murph is the biggest snuggle bug. Just wants to hold you and be held. Showers you with little kisses and caresses and nestles your head under his chin. The man's heart is attached to his dick and he's a little bit in love with you right now.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Real proud of his physique. He is a gym bro and he works hard for those gains. He's all about his upper body and abs, all those important surfing muscles. Tell him he's strong, compliment his gains, he'll light up and flex for you. He doesn't even mean to do it, it just happens on reflex.

When it comes to his partner, he likes the soft things. Thighs, breasts, tummy, ass. Whether you're thick or thin he likes the parts of you he can really get his hands on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Thinks swallowing is the hottest thing on the planet. If you let him cum in your mouth he'll buy you flowers. Also, btw, this man is bisexual as hell and when he's giving head you bet he swallows.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Super into pet play. Never ever will bring this up unless asked point-blank. If you put a collar on this man and tell him he's a good dog whoops he came already.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's got a fair amount of experience under his belt but not as much as you'd think. He is very good at making sure his partner is taken care of and has a few tricks up his (very tight) sleeves to rile you up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

All of them. Are you having sex with him? Awesome. You wanna take him for a ride? Climb right on up. You want him to fold you like a paper airplane? He would love to do that for you. You want to fold him like a paper airplane? Say less, baby.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s not goofy on purpose, he’s just kind of a goofball by nature. He’s being very sincere actually. When he says “this is the best moment of my fucking life” while you’re sucking him off, he means it 100%.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Fuzzy boy. Full fucking bush bby. California blonde from his head to his toes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Murph is, shall we say, a very clumsy romantic. He's not so much sweeping you off your feet as he is throwing you over his shoulder. He says the sweetest things but they're not exactly poetry, e.g. “you feel fucking incredible, you're a fucking dream, fuck,” etc. If you've been together for a minute he'll hug you tight and tell you he really likes you because it's true and he does.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Absolutely thinks about you while he's jerking off. Uses your nudes for inspiration. Probably texts you about it before, during, and after. He really prefers getting off with a partner, but sometimes u just gotta get that nut.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh my god edge this man. Be so mean to him, deny him all day, just don't ruin his orgasm or he'll never forgive you. Do literally anything to his nipples and he's a puddle with an erection. Loves to be bitten and sucked on. Leave him little love marks he can look at later and it'll make his day every time he sees them. Praise the fuck out of him, it gives him a boner in his heart. 💕

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Tbh?? Bed. He loves bed. Bed has everything you need. Would he accept couch? Yes, couch is good too. Kitchen? Why the fuck not? Not car. He can't get comfortable in a car. Kinda shy about public places but he thinks it's so hot you want him that bad and if you pull him into the bar bathroom or a dressing room he's not going to say no.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any amount of interest shown in him at all. If you are soft and needy, he is tripping over himself to please you. Push him up against a wall and he's immediately yours. Send him nudes and flirty texts, he will be so stoked you're thinking of him. So stoked he can’t stand up for a minute. PDA?? Oh man. Touch him under the table at a restaurant and he is going to be pent the fuck up until you get him home. Absolutely loves when you assert your claim on him in some way publicly, taking his hand, arm around his waist, standing beside his chair and pulling his head against your hip.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not one for degradation, giving or receiving. Prefers pleasure to pain for the most part; your standard biting, scratching, and spanking are fair game. Not much for group sex or threesomes. He's pretty down to try anything once if you want, doesn't have a lot of hard limits.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Enjoys both giving and receiving for different reasons. Uses giving as a way to warm up his partner and gets himself all hot and bothered in the process because he just really is having a good time. Gives sloppy fucking head. Enjoys receiving bc he’s a simple man and he likes having his dick sucked, duh.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Murph gets worked up pretty quickly but he’s hung like a horse, which means he usually has to take it slow for his partner’s sake. He is so very good at being patient. Plus, once he’s in the moment, he doesn’t want it to end.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You want to have sex with him right now?? Right now? Pants are off. Expect him to be really clingy afterwards though, and maybe don’t leave right after or he’ll be sad.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He kinda sticks to his comfort zone when left to his own devices. He’s not the one to bring a new idea to the bedroom. But he’s extremely receptive to whatever you have in mind.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Clear your schedule. He's in great shape, he's down to switch it up so things don't get repetitive or chafey, and he would love nothing more than to spend the whole night with you (and the day, and the next night).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Nothing fancy, but he has a couple cock sleeves he likes that he'd be happy to use on a partner with a penis. If you've got something you like that you want to use on him or have him use on you, he's totally down to try it out.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He'll try, but he's not great at teasing because he just wants to give you what you want. Why would he deprive you?? You're so hot. :(

However…you can tease him until he's blue in the balls face. He'll whine and complain but he loves it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Buy the neighbors earplugs. Murph does not hold back nor does he know how to nor does he care. Full-throated moans and whines and whimpers. Vocal sighs like all the tension in the world has been siphoned from his body. Begging, pleading, bargaining. Grunts, growls, a truly juvenile amount of the word fuck.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Looooves when he gets to cum inside you. It's not even a breeding kink thing, he just is thrilled you'd let him do that. If his partner can't or doesn't want to adjust to his size he has to make do with other avenues, which is fine, but he just really likes being inside you if you'll let him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big man. Thiccc. He's what you'd call a seven by seven…seven inch girth, seven inch length. Circumcised. Curly curly blonde bush. Usually hangs to the left.

As for the rest of his body, he's pretty fucking fit. Bulkier in the shoulders, arms, and chest, slim in the waist. Ass that won't quit. He's very tan bc he's always in the sun. Has a handful of tattoos including a shark on his left hip and a sun and moon on his calves.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Murph is always just a little bit horny and ready to be hornier. It's like a soothing white noise in the back of his mind. He's just bopping along until you drop him a hint and then he is ready. Sometimes he gets real needy though, and he can't focus on anything, and he'll do literally anything you want if you'll just get him off right now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall right to sleep, but he'll get cozy and cuddly and won't want to leave the bed again. And you better believe he's up before you are, already went for a run, and is making you breakfast.

#murph connors #murph connors fanfiction #murph connors x reader

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tactfulsaboteur · 11 months

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15 questions/15 people

tagged by @newvibewars (thank you! i started a new thread because that post was getting long af)

are you named after anyone? nope, certified original character do not steal

when was the last time you cried? legitimately can't remember. i get a little bit of dust in my eye once in a while if i see something emotional but i don't actually truly cry much at all

do you have kids? no

do you use sarcasm a lot? i'm trying to be less irony poisoned so not as much but i don't think that counts for dry sarcasm

what’s the first thing you notice about people? besides obvious physical characteristics? speech patterns and general bearing i guess. if you act like a normal human being (standards for this vary wildly)

what’s your eye color? brown but like it's more like a deep earthy brown and there are teakwood flecks when the light hits them and they turn a kinda burnt umber color when i'm angry

scary movie or happy endings? either is fine but slight preference for happy endings i guess. why can't there be a scary movie with a happy ending though. no ominous sequel setup just defeat the ancient evil and fuckin retire to the countryside, love interest you rescued from the jaws of utter doom optional but encouraged

any special talents? nothing too special. fairly good marksman? abnormally high lung capacity?

where were you born? california, to my infinite chagrin. yosemite is pretty great and the weather is cool whenever everything isn't on fire. other than that... ehhh i'm not going back you can't make me

what are your hobbies? i draw off and on, i was crocheting for a bit before i took a break that ended up extending indefinitely, i like rock climbing but there's no good rock nearby and the nearest gym is kinda expensive and like 40 minutes drive :/

do you have any pets? no, unless you count that tupperware in the fridge that i should really get around to cleaning out

what sports do you play/have you played? lot of soccer when i was younger which is still my favorite, several years of swim team which were a lot of fun as well, and one season of basketball that i did not like too much, ironically. these days it's usually a casual game of volleyball whenever the pals get together

how tall are you? legend has it i'm 6'4"

favorite subject in school? chemistry maybe? that was a long time ago. we had a bunch of fun experiments and i got to make stump remover smoke bombs though

dream job? probably something in the vein of network operations sme, if i can get a bit more training and certification. i'm the guy you call when the internet absolutely positively have to come up. i like the problem solving oriented aspect of it and (ideally) if i fix shit right and plan ahead my job becomes pretty chill after a while. if i could finagle some/all remote work that wouldn't sound bad at all

if you haven't been tagged already: @foxmulderswaifu5ever, @crabs-and-bongos, @ursus-arctos-horribillis-chad, @to2llynottoby, @khanuckle, @maniaconmeth, @barbiesplasticsurgeons... and viewers like you!

#if you've already done it just link me the post or tell me i'm retarded or something

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crevicedwelling · 1 year

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I keep a small amount (~100) of Armadillidium vulgare and I find that they are very fond of climbing, which seems counterintuitive to a litter dweller - they spend a lot of time at the top of sticks I angle against the terrarium side, and I also gave them a dried hydrangea panicle which they use as something of a jungle gym now. They do spend time beneath the bark, litter, and logs I give them but plenty sit right out in the open on these climbing structures. Do you observe this behavior in any of your isopods? They also don't seem to eat leaf litter very much - they reject most of the types of dead leaves I give them, opting instead to eat lichens, living moss, and some kinds of fresh leaves like clover, autumn olive, and bittercress. I'm just not sure if this is normal pillbug behavior! What are your thoughts?

I’ve heard Armadillidium vulgare climb often in desert habitats out in California but since they’re only about 10-15% of the population of local isopods I’ve never been able to witness them climbing any more than the more common A. nasatum, P. scaber (which do move around here on concrete walls, wooden objects, etc).

isopods can be picky about leaf litter and mine seem to strongly favor maple leaves that have sat and aged for at least 3-4 months, fully dry and brown. I soak litter further to leach out bitter tannins. my isopods avoid oak, beech, and other shiny, hard leaves unless they are rotted to the point they’re soft and crumbly.

isopods do eat a lot of fresh leaves when available, although most common species don’t require it in their diets. lichens and mosses in most urban habitats can gather pollutants and may not be sustainable to harvest, which is why I don’t feed them those, but isopods do eat them readily.

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nicole-timey-wimey-stuff · 4 months

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Love and Pipelines

dbf!joel x reader

Dbf Joel x Surfer girl reader

Word count - 4.2K

Warnings- swear words, smut in other chapters (but not this one), suggestive thoughts and comments, large age gap, slowburn, forbidden relationships, fluff, awkwardness. My terrible grammar. Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

This will be a 3 part series, it’s a slow burn with Joel and reader. This is one of my first fan fics so bear with me, I’m used to writing non fiction usually.

No smut in this chapter but there will be in the next two, so no minors this is a 18+ fic. I know many have said they can’t relate to a hyper fem/ girly reader, so I’ve made the reader a sportier tomboy character, just to change things up.

Chapter 1

The low buzzing hum coming from your phone alarm rouses you awake, ‘6:00am is way too early for a Sunday’ you think. But it’s the last chance you’ll have to get in any practice, before your big competition. With a groan you stretch out your limbs almost cat like in your movements, trying to shake the stiff morning aches. With a groan you pull yourself up, grabbing your swimsuit and wetsuit from your wrack, and make your way to the bathroom.

On your way downstairs you can still hear your dad’s soft snores, coming from his bedroom which is closest to the stairs. Smiling to yourself you’re glad he’s actually still sleeping, recently work has had him up at the crack of dawn, and in bed way into the early hours. He works hard to provide the best life for you both, and you’re truly thankful for all he does for you, but you can’t help but wish he was around more these days.

Your mum left one night when you were only 4 years old, just upped and went. A single note left on the fireplace for your dad, explaining she couldn’t do this anymore, how she didn’t love him enough nor wanted to be a mum enough to stay. It broke him, he’d tried so hard climbing the corporate ladder, to bring in more money for a comfortable life. To bring her the life she said she wanted. But she left, with nothing but her indent in the mattress and a note.

So it was just you and him, and he tried he really did, he moved you away from the bustle of California life, to a fairly small but lovely beach house just at the edge of Lincoln City. Nelscott Beach was beautiful, long stretches of sand and great waves. The residents in your area were lovely too, mainly the older generation who have come here to retire. Mrs Myers your 68 year old neighbour across from you always made you baked goods, claiming you were too thin, “no meat on you” she’d say offering you the tub of whatever she’d made that day. You had tried to tell her being an athlete you weren’t thin but muscular, that you tried your hardest to keep fit and strong. She’d always just wave you off though, smiling as you took the sweet goods from her, usually to hand off to your dad to enjoy.

It was true though being a surfer was demanding, you spent half your time in the gym or out in the waves. Building muscle and stamina, pushing your body to the maximum it could handle, but this was your dream.

Ever since you were a little girl the ocean called to you, and whilst living in California at just 8 years old your dad started paying for your surf lessons, which turned into surf clubs, which turned into moving from foam topped boards to more expensive boards, to custom boards. He paid for it all, he supported you through it all. You never felt growing up that you only had one parent, he more than made up for it all. Coming to all your small kiddie competitions to finally your proper competitive ones.

Three month’s ago you came second in the three part competition at Florida’s PRO-AM championship. Which you were absolutely elated about! Even more so that it got you the wildcard ticket to compete at Billabong Pipe PRO, Pipeline in Hawaii. Which was terrifying but at the same time, you were bursting with excitement at such a huge opportunity. Not to mention a trip to Hawaii would be like a dream, your dad has booked two hotel rooms for two weeks, pretty much on the beach near your contest. The rest of the time will be spent travelling the island, finding great surf spots, waterfalls, hikes and cafes. You were leaving in two days just you and your dad for a trip of a lifetime!

And so you were practicing hard these winter months, as they brought in large waves to your doorstep. You were proud of how far you’d come, praying that Pipeline was your opportunity to finally get a sponsor. Grinning to yourself at that thought you grabbed your board and a bottle of water, leaving your dad a note on the counter ‘Catching waves, be back soon! Y/N’ and headed out the door.

The morning was dull, grey skies and a slight hazy mist, but there were specks of sun coming through the clouds, colours of purple, yellow and blue breaking through and casting golden shadows. You loved that morning sea air smell, the cool wind on your face. You closed your eyes and breathed it in for a moment enjoying the peacefulness, until a sudden truck door slamming startled you, causing you to jump and swing your board into the offender “Hmmph, woah watch it there kiddo” Oh how you wished he wouldn’t call you that ‘Kiddo’. Joel Miller your next door neighbour to your right and your dad’s closest friend. There he stood with that amused smirk on his face, all broad and handsome with his tousled sleep hair, having no right to look so good at 6:15 in the morning!

“Joel!! I’m so sorry you startled me, did I hurt you?” You rambled out quickly, feeling embarrassed for being caught daydreaming and for smacking him with your surfboard.

“No it’s alright darlin’ no harm done, you be careful out there, it’s quite rough today” he says pointing to the heavy crashing waves 300 yards from us. You were now praying your face wasn’t too red after the pet name, you loved when he called you darlin’ in that southern accent.

“I always am” you smile “Catch you later?” You ask. “Yeah I’ll be over watchin’ the game with your dad” he answers, “Great! See you then” you reply already escaping to the beach. “Later’s” you shout back as you break into a jog, leaving an amused Joel standing in his driveway.

Joel had moved here from Austen Texas, along with his daughter Sarah about five years ago, mentioning a fresh start for them both. Sarah was a few years younger than you, but you both made fast friends with one another. She has recently started college, something your dad had originally hoped you would do too. But after finishing high school your surfing career was starting to take off, as competition wins became frequent. So you made a deal with him, to pick up college once you’d come to the end of your competitive years. ‘You have great grades and it’s never too late’ he had said. Your dad and Joel had bonded quickly over being single dads with teenage girls at the time, they now help each other out and bond over football games and BBQs.

Standing on the beach you strap your board to your ankle, before running in. The rush of cold water runs over your feet as you wade deeper, placing your board down when the water starts hitting your waist. Throwing your right leg over you pull yourself on and start paddling out, pushing your board down at the back, in turn pulling the front up to glide over the waves.

When a particularly large break comes you push the front of your board down, diving under the wave, you feel the rush of icy water submerge around you, as you pull up the other side gasping, feeling air refill your lungs. You paddle out further getting yourself in place for when the next large wave comes. Unknowingly by you being watched from the boardwalk by Joel, who was leaning on the railing gazing over your every move.

Joel’s POV

He told himself it was to make sure she was ok, after all those waves were pretty aggressive this mornin’. But he couldn’t help admiring you, the way you showed no fear, how strong and confident you were out there. The way your sea bleached hair swayed as you ran into the water, how your powerful body pulled you up and over those waves, the determination on your face as you rode the wave to precise perfection.

You were beautiful, in such a different way to other women your age. You weren’t girly, or wore much makeup, you had a toned but muscular figure, strong thick legs which were powerful to push that board wherever it needed to go. You had sun tanned skin from hours out in the sun and ocean, in turn your hair never sat sleek, but in constant windswept curls.

You chased your dreams, worked hard for them, weight training, boxing, running. All to achieve your goals to become a professional surfer, and Joel admired you so much for that, for the commitment and determination. It just made you even more beautiful in his eyes.

He doesn’t even know when it started, these feelings he had for you. The ones that ate him up in guilt and anguish, they even stopped him from sleeping some nights. He shouldn’t feel this way about a girl half his age, not to mention his best friend’s daughter! God if Howard ever found out, he’d be a dead man! But every evening he spends at your house, and you joke with him and your old man, when you talk about your competitions with such passion, your goals with such drive. The way your face lights up, your eyes crease and those cheek dimples of yours show….. he can’t help himself.

Not only that, you’re just so damn sweet! You always ask about Sarah, how’s college going, if she’s happy. You always ask Joel if he needs help, or if you can grab him anything while you’re out shopping. You’re always smiling, even through the tough times, you have this demeanour about you to always look on the positive side, or what can you do to make the situation better. Your heart is huge and kind and fearless, and poor Joel he just can’t help but fall in love with you.

He’s Tormented by these feelings he can never act on, because for one what would a gorgeous, talented young woman of 22 want with a 46 year old man. In addition to that you’re Howard’s kid, his best friend’s daughter. But what he can do is watch over you, feign ignorance to others, that your his best friends kid therefore he worries about your wellbeing.

Y/N POV

You’d been out here an hour now, and you were beginning to feel exhausted. One more wave you thought, let’s make it a good one to end on. You felt it before you saw it, the push of something large coming. You turned your head waiting for the perfect moment, then you started paddling, moving your arms steady but fast to get into position in time. Before pushing up and onto your feet, you held yourself steady as you started to descend, the wave pulling over you into a perfect even if on the smaller side pipe. You crouched leaning into the wave, hand stroking the curl of it, until you came through the other side, hearing it crash behind you. “YES” you cheered! Absolutely ecstatic that you managed to pull it off.

You ran out of the water so elated, noticing Joel standing on the boardwalk you sprinted towards him. Pulling him into a wet hug “did you see that! Please tell me you saw that! Dad won’t ever believe me otherwise, he’s so worried about Pro Pipe, saying I can’t do pipe, how it’s so different to my usual competitions, his…. I’m rambling aren’t I?” you babble out at such a speed you doubt he understood a word you said. Joel lets out a chesty laugh, eyes creasing ‘gods he’s beautiful’ you think to yourself. “I did” he responds heartily, “You just remember me and your old man when you make it big alright” Joel offers. “Promise” you reply with a big grin, before realising you are literally soaking Joel. “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry I’ve drenched you!” You exclaim. Joel clears his throat detaching himself from your embrace, “Don’t worry about it sweetheart” he replies. ‘Sweetheart that’s new’ you ponder, face turning red for the second time today at one of Joel’s pet names.

“Come on kiddo, let’s get you back before your dad starts to worry” Joel said before walking towards your house. ‘Kiddo again’ you sigh to yourself, secretly hoping that he starts seeing you for the woman you’ve grown into and not the kid you used to be. You silently walk back to your house together, both deep in thought. Once you have reached your driveway, Joel turns to you with a fond smile “See ya a bit later yeah?” Joel asks “Gonna run some errands, then I’ll be over for the game.” He continues. “ Yeah see you later” you reply timidly, small smile on your face. Joel nods before leaving towards his house, you gaze at him for a second before reaching for your own front door.

You walk in to total chaos happening in the kitchen, your dad on the phone with his boss arguing over something, meanwhile smoke coming from the stove where he’s attempted to cook breakfast. You quickly slot your board into its rack by the front door, before moving fast to take the pan off the stove, turning off the heat and opening the window, wafting some of the smoke out. Your dad mouths a quick ‘Thank you’ before leaving the room, to continue his phone call.

You quickly run up to your room stripping off your wetsuit, hanging it out to dry, pulling on some sweatpants and a hoodie, before you begin cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, afterwards you whisk some eggs to make you both an omelette. You plate them up and place them on the table along with some fresh coffee, for you both just in time for your dad to walk back in. “Thank you sweetheart” he mumbles clearly frustrated about the phone call, and the cooking disaster.

“No worries dad, what was all that about?” You ask, “Don’t worry, hopefully it’s getting sorted as we speak” he replies, still clearly annoyed at whatever situation is happening, and you know better than to push him right now. “Ok well I did good out there today! Actually caught some great waves, one pipe even!” You exclaim. “Yeah?” He replies kind smile on his lips. “Yeah! Joel saw me do it too! So he will help convince you I’m not going to kill myself at Pipeline, I know your worried but I think it’s going to be really great for me” you trail off excitedly. “Joel saw you?” He asks his voice showing some confusion. “Yeah he walked over to check on me I suppose?” You reply, “He caught me leaving this morning, said to be careful or something as it was a bit rough out there.” You continued. “That was nice of him, he’s a good man Joel. Really cares about everyone in his life” he replies. “ He’s helping me do some work on the garage next month, I’m gonna split it into a double, it’s big enough. That way we can have somewhere else for you to put all those boards you keep collecting” he laughs, his voice amused even if he’s complaining slightly. “Hey I got rid of the foam topped ones! I even gave one to Sarah to practice with!” You exclaim laughing too, knowing all too well you do probably have too much surfing equipment. You share a smile before digging into breakfast, eating in comfortable silence.

“Joel says he’s coming over for the game later?” You ask while cleaning the dishes. “Yeah thought we could order pizza in? Make a night of it?” He asks. “Yeah sounds good! I’m sure one cheat meal before the big day won’t hurt.” You reply. “Great! I’ll send him a text to let him know, I think he gets lonely on his own over there you know? Since Sarah’s been at college.” Your dad muses, “Yeah I’m sure your right, maybe you should invite him over more? Especially once I’m travelling the world as a famous surfer, can’t have you old men all lonely can we?” You taunt with a giggle. “Alright you, go on… go pack or something” he replies shoving you along, you huff out a laugh. “Yeah I probably should get on with that actually” you announce before making your way upstairs.

The rest of the day passes slowly, you take a shower washing off the ocean. Taking time to shave your legs and condition your hair, goodness knows it needs it! Before getting yourself ready for this evening, you stand there looking into your closet for something to wear. You want to look cute, you want Joel to notice you, for his eyes to wonder over you. But your not a girly girl so you don’t own dresses or skirts, and you wouldn’t even know how to put them on anyways. You opt for low sitting, baggy legged jeans, and an off the shoulder crop top. Showing just enough skin to feel sexy, but casual enough to still feel like yourself. You move over to your vanity and apply small winged eyeliner and use some lip balm on your lips, again casual but still making a effort. You really want Joel to see you’ve grown up, that your nearly 23 and not that awkward teenager anymore, well not a teenager anyways you are still however as awkward as ever.

As you make your way downstairs you hear the distinct muffled voices and laughter, that belong to your dad and Joel, meaning he’s already arrived. You gather yourself together before walking into the living room. “Hey!” You announce yourself as you take a seat in the armchair next to your dad. “Hey darlin’” Joel says with a smile, “There she is!” Your dad replies. “Been waiting for ya to order this pizza, what you having?” Your dad asks. “Uh veggie please” you reply shyly. Joel’s watching you smirk on his face, “Still eatin' that rabbit food I see?” He teases. You blush at his teasing, ‘Is it hot in here you think’ “Yup, got to at least try and be healthy, maybe you two should give it a go too” you sass back with a smile. “Haha I’ll keep that in mind darlin’.” Joel replies with a amused grin. “Joel was telling me how well you did out there today, think your ready kiddo?” Your dad asks. “Yeah I’m definitely as ready as I’ll ever be! I’m super excited for this one!” You declare. “You’ll do amazin’ darlin’ you always do” said Joel, your always taken back by his kindness and support. “Thanks Joel I hope so, it may be my real chance at securing a sponsor” you reply. Your dad chimes in with “Does that mean someone else will be paying for all this expensive stuff that clutters my house then?” An amused look on his face, “Nah that will probably still be you dad” you snip back laughing. “Sounds about right” he scoffs.

The night carries on with banter and laughter, and once the pizza is all gone and the game is finished you fall into comfortable chatter. Your about to ask your dad if he’s all packed ready for your trip, when his cell phone stars ringing. He excuses himself and retreats to his study to take the call, leaving you and Joel alone.

You stretch out in your chair, unconsciously showing more of your skin as your top shifts up. Joel gazes over at you catching glances of your exposing midriff, wondering how soft your skin is, what it would be like to run his hands up your sides, to hold you close. He clears his throat and try’s to control his thoughts, but they slide straight back to imagining touching you, what noises you’d make if he ever got the chance to touch you like he wants too.

“Joel?” Your questioning voice pulls him out of his trance. “Yeah sorry sweetheart, what were you saying?” Joel replies trying to control his embarrassment of being caught staring. “I was asking if your ok? You kinda zoned out there” you ask. Your inner thoughts running riot, ‘was he staring at you? No he couldn’t of been could he? But he was staring straight at you, zoned out with a weird look on his face.’ Joel clears his throat again, then scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Yeah all good darlin’, was just in a daze I guess, long week” he offers. You nod offering him a small smile.

You dad comes walking back in with a grim expression on his face, “What’s wrong dad?” You ask worried. “Well sweetheart” he replies trying to collect his words and you can see his inner struggle, it’s written all over his face. “That was Mathew from work, it appears that Thomas has quit, just walked out Friday and told them he ain’t coming back. The problem with that is him and I were working on this large presentation. Which needs to be presented over tomorrow and Tuesday to the main investor, then the second part presented Friday and Saturday to the rest of the investors. This deal is worth millions to the company, and the investors will not reschedule. No one else in the company can catch up in time for the presentation, meaning I have to present it. I found out from Mathew this morning when you came home, but he was going to try and convince Thomas to come in just for the presentations, but it seems he won’t” He finishes waiting for your reaction, you however are pretty much speechless.

After what feels like forever you stutter out “ But but but, my competition is from Wednesday, our plane is at 5am Tuesday and I have to sign in Tuesday.” “ I know sweetheart, I’m so sorry. But if I don’t present this I could loose my job” he croaks out, emotion thick in his voice. “But what do I do? Do I go on my own? I can’t miss this opportunity dad, I’ve trained so hard!” You say, really now starting to panic. “You can go alone if you really don’t want to miss it, I know what this means to you, I’m just so sorry you won’t have support there with you” your dad replies.

“I’ll go with her” Joel all but blurts out.

He’d been watching the exchange between you and your dad, heart breaking at how upset you were getting, he couldn’t let you go alone, and he couldn’t let you miss this amazing opportunity. He hadn’t really let his brain catch up with his heart before he opened his mouth.

“Really?” You reply your voice laced with hope. “Yeah really, if it’s ok with you Howard? I mean I have no work scheduled for a few of weeks now, and I’d just be sat at home nothing to do.” Says Joel. Your dads looking at him while Joel explains, “Are you sure Joel? That’s a big ask, I mean I’ve booked two hotel rooms and a hire car. But you’ll have to take her to sign in Tuesday, then back for the event Wednesday, and I’ve been told the heats for the contest are spread over a few days, and that’s if the conditions are right, the trip is a two week trip?” Your dad explains. “I’ve also promised her day trips around the island after, there’s some spots she wants to surf, a waterfall she wants to see, cafe trips …” your dad rambles on, feeling distressed and guilty.

“Yeah I’m sure, it’s fine I’m happy to do it Hal, and she can’t go alone it’s a dangerous contest. She needs someone with her, plus it’s a huge chance for her to get the recognition and the sponsors she needs. It’s not a problem I can go, if you can get the travelling documents transferred into my name?” Joel replies. “Yeah I can do that no problem there.. is this ok with you kiddo? You happy for Joel to go with you?” Your dad asks. “Yeah” you reply “I’m happy for Joel to take me” you say with a smile. “Ok then, I’ll get the documents put into your name first thing tomorrow Joel” your dad confirms. “ I can’t thank you enough for this Joel” he continues. Joel just smiles at you and nods at your dad, butterflies start to flutter in your stomach at the thought of two weeks alone with him. Though your disappointed your dad can’t come, your excited to go on this adventure with Joel.

#dbf!joel #dbf joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #dbf Joel x reader #surfer girl #tlou #the last of us #joel miller #dads best friend Joel miller #dads best friend

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thebigfudanshi · 9 months

Text

anyone even seen My Giant Life? It's like a show where people (mostly women I've seen) are like 6'7 and they get documented how their lives go, how they go about their daily lives being really tall and how other people react.

I have the overwhelming urge to write something like this with Beach Bear, it doesn't even have to be its own thing, I'm just gonna throw all these inconvenient things in my fanfics.

Like putting thing in comically high places just on accident because he's literally 8 feet tall in my head canon. Just casually sliding a box of something on top of the cabinets in his and Dook's apartment and this 5'5 little dog has to climb on his counter to grab that shit later. Or hitting his head on shit all the time. Or just adding little nuances because HE'S MASSIVE.

Boom, new idea. You know how often tall people get asked how tall they are? The show I'm referring to is kinda old, but there's this lady at my mom's work who's hella tall who STILL gets asked how tall she is every time she goes in. You guys remember that part in the '86 gift showtape where Beach Bear referenced going to malls to watch people go ballistic near Christmas? I can fully imagine he would go to malls just to have people fuck with him. He's like an instant magnet for people and he LOVES it. Everyone flocks to him and he's got instant friends. That's why he's so chill and friendly. Cause he came to California and he was just hit with attention. It's a great feeling. I feel like that's also why he'd like showbiz, cause kids ADORE people who look like Teddy bears and could be used like a jungle gym, and I feel like if you work at a kids restaurant, you gotta like kids a little bit.

But my favorite thing about My Giant Life is that there's a couple in it, a woman who's like 6'9 and her boyfriend who's like 5'8 and it's fucking adorable, I put Dook and Beach over that immediately as soon as as saw this dude have to hop on a wall to kiss his girlfriend like hjhjdjgjgk beach Bear's 8 foot dook would have to climb a fucking pole to kiss this man I love it. Beach Bear would totally pick him up too just cause and kisses.

I think I just really like tall people.

Can't you tell I'm 5'3?

#rock afire explosion #beach bear #the rockafire explosion #i ship these two obviously #I can clearly see Dook getting fiesty with Small Dog Energy at someone barking at him or something and beach bear picks him up like a pet #like “we dont bark at people.”#and dook being all huffy cause he dont like getting barked at by people or pets #but hes over it cause hes being held like a toddler #and i feel like hed be down with that

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deada55 · 1 year

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His Life Will Find A Purpose (When the River Meets the Sea) - Chapter 7

crossposting: ao3

work summary: A nine-year old in Tomahawk, WI gets glaucoma surgery over Christmas break.

chapter summary: As the advent calendar counts down, Pickles struggles under the anxiety of looming surgery.

tws: none (let me know if I missed a biggie!)

As December trickled by, Pickles would occasionally feel something rush up from nowhere in slow-motion, like he’d seen a tsunami climb out of the horizon. On the Wednesday before Christmas break started, they had a school assembly to watch the kindergartners and the fifth graders (including Seth) sing Christmas carols, and on that Friday they had a party complete with cupcakes from the classroom mom, quiet Mrs. Lofgren. But not even candy and watching Seth boil red from humiliation on the stage in the gym could break Pickles out of his fog.

Since he’d been provided an assigned seat after the first week of class, sitting with his friends in the back wasn’t an option, so he had to catch up with Rodney, Jonathan, and Michael during recesses. Today, they all sat behind the previous day’s snow fort.

“You’re lucky you don’t go anywhere on Christmas. My mom drags us to grandma’s house for dinner and it’s so boring.” Jonathan seemed to be related to almost everyone in town, if you went by everyone he claimed to be his cousin. A silent nodding consensus among Rodney and Michael cemented that yes, it was possible that Jonathan would have a large family gathering to attend on Christmas Day. Jonathan had the best baseball card collection and made a good playmate despite his constant fibbing, but his remarks consistently needed vetting.

“Yeah, it’s kinda busy at my house on Christmas.” Rodney’s mother was easygoing, yet exhausted with three year old twins, Rodney, and three beautiful Labradors. “I just play with my toys and have dinner.”

“Hey Pickles?” Michael interrupted Rodney just before taking a cool, refreshing bite out of a fresh snowball. “My sister’s in Seth’s class and she said you’re gonna be in the hospital on Christmas.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Pickles took off his wet mittens and drew furrows in the snow with his bare fingers. Traces of dried blood from his cuticles gave the snow the slightest rusty freckles as he plowed it into parallel lines.

“Really?” Rodney wiped his nose on his sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s his eye thing, remember?” Jonathan chirped, doing his best to be helpful.

“Yeah,” Pickles confirmed. Michael pushed himself up onto his knees.

“Wow. Are you going to get presents there?”

“No, my parents decided it’ll be when I get home.”

“Seth also said you’re not getting nothin’, but I don’t think that’s true.” Michael was always nice, whether he tried to be or not. Believing Seth came too easily to Pickles, and hearing someone else disagree with him always made Pickles feel a little better. If someone else thought Seth was wrong, then maybe he was actually wrong, and it wasn’t just Pickles trying to sabotage himself into disappointment.

Pickles sat back and put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t care?” Michael ducked his head a little bit and ended up looking so sincere, with big, warm, black eyes, that Pickles almost snatched him into a hug,

Pickles shrugged, but before he could speak, Jonathan piped back up, this time just to be a know-it-all.

“You know eye surgery sometimes makes stuff worse, right? That’s how my uncle lost his eye!” His uncle lost his eye in a VA hospital in California after he’d come back from Vietnam, a story he told almost everyone he met. And Jonathan’s uncle met a lot of people working at the liquor store. He’d get talking for hours at the counter and wouldn’t even remember the back door of the stockroom was unlocked, and the creme de menthe was awfully close to the back door… Pickles helped himself every now and then. Jonathan’s uncle sure knew how to drum up new customers.

“Would you come back to school if you were blind?”

“I don’t know.” Blindness was such a frightening prospect that Pickles had instead begun to settle with his mortality, and fully intended to choose death over blindness out of sheer will. Still, there was no guarantee that wishing himself dead would finally work… Jonathan had effectively read Pickles’ fearful mind, but he smirked and looked back up into his friends’ faces. “I could get an infection and die with pus coming outta my face, so…” Heh. That’d be funny. Closed-casket funeral for sure. Maybe it’d make his mom sick of making casseroles with that set, gelatinous, yellow cream of chicken soup that was so concentrated that it came out shaped like its can… Can pus be chunky?

The boys were silent as they watched two beads of winter “sweat” drip onto Pickles’ cheeks.

“Well, I’d miss you-” Michael began, but was interrupted by Mrs. Wallace clearing her throat from the other side of the fort. Her festive nativity vest wiggled its pom pom trim at them from above.

“Gentleman, recess ended five minutes ago.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Wallace!” Jonathan was not only a fibber but a kissup and stood up the fastest, but they all trudged into line with the other kids.

At the end of the day, right after the final bell, before she’d even sat her chalk down, Mrs. Wallace called Pickles over to her desk. He slid everything on the top of his desk into his schoolbag, leaving papers and pencils to get crushed under his books, as long as it could close. Then, he walked up to her, standing in the scuffed 12x12 asbestos tile squarely in front of her nameplate.

His eyes only lifted when she held his mittens out to him, dry and warm from sitting on the radiator behind her desk.

“You left your gloves at recess.”

“Oh…” They needed to be washed but otherwise they were perfect and almost steaming with warmth. He cupped them in his hands, but he didn’t dare look at Mrs. Wallace in case he were in trouble for forgetting them in the first place. “Thanks.”

“Merry Christmas,” she offered, softening her eyes.

“Merry Christmas.”

When Pickles had his coat on (and doublechecked that Luke and his inhaler were still in the pockets), he heard Mrs. Wallace call him again while she straightened out the rows of desks. “Pickles?”

“Yes?”

Her mouth opened and shut a few times but nothing in her mind made it down to her mouth. Over the length of the semester, it felt like a light had gone out in her class. Although Pickles became less disruptive, it wasn’t a result of trying to focus more in class, punishment, or ‘maturing’. If anything, he’d gotten more distracted with his head on his desk instead of making faces or trying to cut up with the other students. She let him get away with playing with toys in the pockets of his clothes because it was one of the only remaining signs that Pickles was a nine year-old boy and not a frightened dog. His current state was far from the description of the incorrigible and wildly sincere child his last teacher described. It was like he’d been snapped in two.

Mrs. Wallace knew from being on the church prayer chain that when someone believes they’ll die, they come that much closer to it. Surgery was no laughing matter, but to see Pickles say a roundabout goodbye behind the snow fort he built laughing the day before made her heart lurch into her hands. But who was she to tell him he wouldn’t die?

He could barely stand to be spoken to. With his head tucked and his arms creeping up to his chest, Pickles took baby steps backwards towards the door.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you back in class in the new year.”

He chalked it up to seasonal formalities and nodded in her general direction. “Yeah, uh, you too. Bye.”

While she was dusting the cubbies, she found his mittens again, laid right under his coat hook on the floor. She brushed them off and folded them, laying them neatly in the left corner of his cubby where he could see them as soon as he returned.

Pickles’ sleeplessness followed him to Saturday morning, cartoons be damned. His teeth ached, for no good reason, and it was almost enough to make him stop eating. Weakly, Pickles hiccuped, and scooped spoonful after crunchy, wet spoonful into his mouth, until he could feel the granulated sugar he’d sprinkle over his cornflakes squeak between his molars.

“Just slap me,” Seth moaned with his head leaned against the couch cushion and his limp arms giving him the languishing, saintly form of a groggy Saturday morning schoolkid.

“What?”

“I said just slap me.” The hum of the tubes on the TV was eerie and clear, or were they hearing the refrigerator? They were still as two bodies laying in adjoining cabinets in the morgue.

Pickles reached to the right and hovered his fingers over Seth’s cheek. He brought it down on Seth’s unfocused face with the same hardness you’d use to make a hollow sound on a dog’s ribs, but pulled back when he felt his brother flinch.

“Ow!” Seth squeaked… right before he laughed. “You hit like a girl.”

“I do not!” Pickles couldn’t help being a little brother, but he was not a little girl.

Seth clicked his tongue like an idiot (Mom smacked him when he did it, but he swore he saw it in a mob movie) and returned his head to the polystyrene hammock of the couch seat cushion. With his knobby legs shoved under the coffee table and that smug, satisfied look on his face, Seth looked as comfortable as could be.

“Do it again.”

This time, with twice as much hesitation, Pickles popped him in the chops with an open hand. The sound of Seth’s teeth snapping together briefly volleyed around the room.

“ Ow !” Seth twisted himself towards his brother, then looked back away with a puff.

Pickles pulled his knees to his chest and chased the not-yet soggy cereal stragglers floating around his bowl with a little tea spoon. “Yeah. Don’t call me a girl.”

Instead of letting it go and going back to his own breakfast, Seth slapped Pickles in the side of the head with a flailing arm.

“Seth! God-”

“You’re such a pussy.”

“Am not… Jeez.” Pickles grumbled. Unwilling to debate further, he got up to sit on the couch.

“I know I didn’t just hear you speak the Lord’s name in vain, Pickles! Shame on you…” Molly waltzed into the room clutching her housecoat closer around her chest. When she sipped her coffee, her glasses fogged over and her eyes went missing.

“Seth, I want you to shovel out the driveway this morning.”

“Mom!” Seth turned towards her and crossed his arms tight, hoisting his shoulders over his ears. “That’s not fair!”

“Now don’t throw a fit. I’ll give you $5.”

“But make Pickles do it!”

“He’s too short.” She cut her eyes towards Pickles and he decided to stop trying to hunt every cornflake down. “He did a terrible job last weekend- your father almost broke his back! I want you to do it.” Pickles left the room to wash out his bowl.

“Fine.”

“That’s good.” She took her glasses off and came around the couch to give her oldest a kiss on the top of his head. “Love you. I’m going to go call Aunt Elaine.”

“Love you too, Ma,” he mumbled over his soggy cornflakes, then he stared at the television.

Pickles returned as she was leaving and laid down across the sofa, minding Seth’s head and curling up in hopes that it’d stop his stomach from tossing his cereal around like a front-loading washing machine. The second he closed his eyes, he was dozing off. Almost every waking moment he wasn’t talking to someone, he was thinking about the surgery. There were too many unknowns, from the food to the other kids to the non-zero chance that the surgery would fail and he’d end up even worse. Maybe blindness would be where everything would look like a blurry shape. Or darkness. Maybe his eyes would pop or they’d scoop them out, and he’d have empty, skin-covered eyesockets like one of the neighbors’ outdoor cats. Maybe blindness would be not knowing how nauseating he’d be to the unwilling friends and family who could bear to see his mutilated face. He probably wouldn’t die if something happened, after all. He’d have to learn how to live with it.

Maybe he could be a telemarketer, since he could probably memorize where the numbers on the telephone were, if only someone could read the numbers out to him. Or, braille, there was always braille…

Can labels and money and newspapers didn’t come in braille. Maybe he’d have to live with mom and dad forever, since he knew the house.

The last thing he might ever see could be white sheets or a doctor’s face. How long would it take for him to forget what everything looked like? Last night, he’d tossed and turned and made himself dizzy suppressing sobs and using his inhaler, something that had become more and more frequent as Seth’s advent calendar counted down like a bomb.

Today could be his last day to be a normal kid. Tomorrow, he went to Milwaukee.

“Pickles, can I ask for a favor?”

Instead of brushing Seth off, Pickles always felt compelled to accept Seth’s little “deals.” Although they’d bitten him in the ass, there were a handful of times where it’d been fun, or it’d saved them both a lot of trouble… like the time Seth’s friend gave them a ride in the back of his truck to the gas station and he gave them the remnants of nitrite leather cleaner, which kept Pickles entertained for the rest of the month. But Seth would do the same for him eventually, right? That’s what mom told him. Besides, he didn’t have any big plans today.

Seth rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes. “You gotta shovel the driveway.”

“I can’t. Mom said I suck at it, remember?”

Seth leaned forward and looked Pickles in the eyes as he pulled himself tighter and tighter into a ball. “Pickles, look, you’re my brother, alright? And you can do what you gotta do. It just iced over last time- but it was perfect, just perfect before that. You’re my brother, you can do anything you want to, and so what if you did a crap job last time, ok? You can’t do everything right. But you gotta shovel the driveway.”

“You can’t make me. Mom said she wanted you to shovel the driveway.” Pickles dredged himself up and sat upright to argue, but stopped short when he saw how quickly Seth twisted around, and how his face was stuck in that still, stern look that felt almost as bad as mother’s.

“I can’t make you but you’ll be sorry, trust me, ok? You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do to you.” Seth stood up, leaving his bowl of lukewarm, used milk on the coffee table. As he walked away, he backhanded Pickles in the ear.

“Ow!”

As Pickles sat by himself, the TV’s cheerful chirp started to sound mocking and hostile. When it became unbearable and sick-feeling, he stood up, turned off the TV, and grabbed the little shooting gallery pocket game from one of the side table drawers.

“Pickles?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“Your snow suit is clean.” He’d had it taken out of commission for a few days after Seth and his friends infested their yard with every frozen dog turd they could find within a half-mile radius. And that happened only a few days after he’d become un-grounded from slamming the door when Seth chased him up the stairs for using “his” broom for broomball. With all the drama along with his asthma, he’d spent most of his weekends inside. If today was his last good day, he might as well spend it in the snow.

When he emerged from the house, he immediately heard Jonathan reciting the rules of street hockey and ran up the plowed street just in time to even out the teams. Although he wasn’t a particularly valuable player, even when he could see the ball, it was better to have another body on your side than nobody, and there was even an extra stick! He burnt the rest of the morning that way, hollering and hustling, setting his lungs on fire. The ice on the telephone wires gave them a tinsel-y sparkle in the morning sun.

He’d played a couple games before Seth and his friends replaced some of the kids who had to go eat lunch and change gloves, and at the end of a match, Seth slapped him upside the head so hard that his hat flipped off.

“So when you gonna shovel out the driveway?”

“I’m not.” Pickles shot back as he bent down and shook the snow off his hat. “Mom said-”

“I didn’t ask you what mom said, did I?” Seth grabbed the back of Pickles snowsuit and jerked it up so that Pickles would stand. The game hadn’t really stopped, but with two people arguing by one of the goals, the rest of the neighborhood boys stood around and watched the sun shine helplessly on the snow-burdened, slumping cedar trees in neighboring yards.

“I’m not gonna shovel the stupid driveway!”

The white snow sparkled with such a sincere invitation that Seth couldn’t help but kick Pickles in the back of the knees, but before he could do much of anything else Michael Jones’ mom poked her head out of her door, swathed in her own winter fleece housecoat and slippers, but with a silk scarf over her hot-combed hair. And Michael’s mom wasn’t afraid to pull out the phone book and find your parents. And if they hung up on her, she’d write them. And if she wrote them and called them and what you did in front of her house was bad enough, she’d tell Mrs. Wallace or the grocer or even the Schwann’s guy… Mrs. Jones would get you in trouble if she thought you deserved it, and not even Seth would test her this close to Christmas. At the sound of her screen door squeaking, everyone stood still.

Seth stood back, casting a shadow over Pickles as he flipped himself over. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Alright.” Without another word, he turned and left. Slowly, the game resumed, but Michael himself came outside, and he and Pickles and Rodney left the game to go sledding on trash can lids a couple streets over.

When he came back down the road, red-nosed and cold-handed, it was after lunch. He shed his boots and his snowsuit at the door, freeing his sweaty hair from his hat and flinging his gloves to the floor. Snow had managed to wiggle into the arms of his clothes, wetting his undershirt, so he went upstairs to change it while he shivered off the lingering cold in his legs and ears. Seth bounded down the stairs, shoving right past Pickles, with a pair of scissors in his hand.

The door to his room, typically wide open, was mostly closed. The inside was as dark as it usually was, but the outline of his plastic Millennium Falcon looked more like a microwave omelette maker than a blurry dinner plate on the ground. He turned the light switch on and almost gagged at the sight of it cracked in two parts, all the glued plastic joins popped-out, with shards of grey plastic spilling out of the splits. Around it lie the whole cast of Star Wars (at least, the ones Pickles had) in pieces, their arms and plastic boots scattered like they’d lain down on landmines. A couple heads were broken off, or marred by the force of two blades attempting to saw them in half.

He knelt, but he kept his breathy torment and pathetic tears in his hands. After all, they were only toys, right?

#my writing #metalocalypse fanfic #metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #preklok #metalocalypse hcs

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bayisdying · 2 years

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Lucky Penny - Chapter Fourteen

A/N: some angst, some self depreciation, then some fluffy shit at the end. Basically the usual for me. Lol. Hope y'all enjoy! 🥰

When Lucky finally heard the cars leave her driveway, she should have felt freedom. Instead she just felt angry, angry at herself, angry at the situation, and angry at the world.

She grabbed her gym bag, and started to pack it up. Ever since she got home the gym was somewhere she was practically forbidden to go. But the gym was a happy place, one where she could use whatever emotions she had in a constructive manner.

She locked the door behind her as she set out in the California sunshine on foot, gym bag slung over over her shoulder.

-----

She had run away once, well all the way to the Carter household three blocks over. She had emptied her Lisa Frank backpack of all school related items and packed what were the essentials to a ten year old.

Her diary, her favorite pajamas, slippers, her stuffed cat, a change of clothes, snacks, her water bottle and the jewelry box that had her name on it that William had made.

Her bedroom was on the lower level, and one of her windows didn't have a bush directly under it. So once her parents had tucked her in for the night, she gathered her things, and snuck out into the hot July night.

She had hidden her bike in the bushes by the shed and went to go get it before taking what she thought was the last look at her childhood home. She started to pedal without any aim, and after awhile she ended up just going to Katie's house.

Katie's house was all one level, and Baylie had snuck in her best friends window before. She dumped her bike in the backyard near the fence line where it wouldn't be seen, then tiptoed through the yard to Katie's room.

The nightlight Baylie had bought her friend for her birthday last October was turned on and Katie appeared to be fast asleep. Baylie pushed on the window and it opened with a creak. She paused, and when nobody seemed to notice she climbed up and in.

Then she went to Katie's closet and got out the sleeping bag that she kept there, unfurling it on the floor next to her friends bed and getting in.

-----

Changing into her sports bra and shorts, she looked herself over in the mirror. The bruises had healed nicely but she could still see them. The gash that they had found on her abdomen was still gnarly looking. But mostly she was shocked at just how pale she looked, the dark circles under her eyes making them pop even more.

She looked like shit.

That motivated her to get better, and so she popped her earbuds in, cranked her music up as loud as she could stand and started to warm-up.

Five miles on the treadmill never used to be this hard. She had struggled the last two miles but pushed herself to keep going. She went through the rest of her normal workout despite the fact that her body was revolting. Her arms and legs were like jelly as she slinked into the locker room to shower and change.

She didn't even glance at herself in the mirror this time. She didn't want to know what she looked like now.

-----

She had almost broken up with Mickey once. It was not long after their first anniversary. She felt entirely undeserving of his love, that she wasn't good enough for him. He deserved someone better, prettier, less broken inside. But he looked at her like she was the most gorgeous girl in the world, and would follow her anywhere.

She had the break up letter written up when he had surprised her on base. He flew from Japan to Italy with only fourty-eight hours of leave, just to see her. He had flowers in one arm and the other arm opened up for her to jump into.

She burned the break up letter after he had to leave again. Deciding that maybe she was worthy of his love.

-----

She decided she wasn't ready to go back home quite yet, so she headed out to the Hard Deck. Technically she shouldn't be drinking with all the medications she was on, but she didn't really care.

She took a seat at the bar and ordered a jack and coke. She didn't see Penny and wondered if she was out with Maverick. Penny would know what to say, she always did no matter the problem.

"You look like you're deep in thought there kiddo." A voice came from behind her, before she could turn around in the stool to see who it was the voices body sat in the stool next to her.

"Mav?"

"Unfortunately."

That made her laugh, a sound nobody had heard since the mission.

"What's got you thinking so loud?"

"I think I fucked up Mav." She said, pausing. "I pushed everyone away."

He gave a her a sad smile as he flagged down the bartender to refill her drink and get him a beer. After a few minutes of drinking in silence Maverick starts again.

"I did the same thing after Goose died."

She looked over at the pilot and saw the shift in his face. He looked older and more weathered thinking about his late friend.

"I pushed everyone away, even though I knew in the back of my mind that I needed them. I needed their support." He sighed. "Instead I wallowed in self pity."

She looks down at her hands in her lap.

"You'll figure it out kiddo, I promise."

-----

"You'll figure it out lucky girl."

"But I don't want to figure out life without you."

-----

A little while after Maverick had left her alone at the bar, she was quite drunk and wanted to go home. She fumbled with her phone and dialed the only number she had memorized.

"Bay?"

"Hey babe, I'm at the Hard Deck and I need you to come get me."

"I'm on my way cariño."

A few minutes later he had her settled in the passenger seat and her gym bag in the back seat.

"I'm so sorry Mickey...."

"It's okay."

"No its not, I pushed you and everyone away. I need you, I've always needed you. I love you more than anything in this world Mickey Garcia." She stumbled out all the words.

He smiled at her, "I love you too."

She curled up in the seat, and once they were home he carried her inside.

He helped her get out of her clothes and into pajamas. He tucked her in and went to sleep on the couch, figuring she wouldn't want to cuddle with him tonight.

"Stay." She whispered. "Stay with me."

He laid down beside her, taking her into his arms. Her head laying on his chest, she focused on his steady heartbeat. He was here, he was real, he was hers.

"I'll stay with you forever if you want me to."

"I'd like nothing more nerd."

-----

A/N: SEE THERES FLUFF FINALLY. you're welcome.

#top gun #top gun maverick #mickey fanboy garcia #lucky x fanboy #mickey garcia #mickey fanboy garcia x oc #fanboy top gun #fanboy #baylie lucky steele #fanboy x lucky #callsign lucky #pete maverick mitchell #maverick

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 2 years

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Mick's Basic Info

Name: Makana Kaya Birch

Mick’s faceclaims, from what I can recall, haven’t changed much at all since I first picked them out. For the 60s, we have the iconic Annette Funicello, the 80s has Lori Loughlin, 2000-2010 is Phoebe Tonkin, and finally, present day is the beautiful Bailee Madison.

Nicknames: Mick, Kana, Mickie, Mickey/Mickie Mouse, Trouble (by her dad, mostly), and occasionally, Chex Mix (usually only when Viv wants to tease her or piss her off, but it’s a long-standing joke between them)

Age: 20

Date of Birth: December 24

Zodiac: Capricorn

Birthstone: Turquoise

Nationality: American, Scottish, Irish

Sexuality: Straight

Born: A cabin in Tilton, New Hampshire

Current Residence: Camino Capistrano, San Clemente, California

Occupation: (modern) Surf shop worker, (in the 60s) animal sanctuary assistant and occasional back-up waitress at Big Momma’s

Schooling: Graduated high school and began taking online college courses for marine biology

Talents/Skills: Writing music, surfing, gymnastics, she can balance a spoon on her nose, if you want to consider that a talent

Birth order: Only child

Parents: Brady Elliot Birch and McKenzie Blaire Fox

Signature:

Height: 5’5” or 168cm

Eye Color: Brown with hints of green

Hair Color: Dark brown

Glasses or contact lenses: She likes to wear colored contacts for fun, but they aren’t necessary

Distinguishing features: Scar on her left arm from a knife accident, a tiny burn on the inside of her right elbow from spilled hot coffee, and a small tattoo of Butchy’s initials under her engagement ring

Mannerisms: Drums her fingers on any surface, cooks/bakes when she's stressed, and sings whatever song is stuck in her head at random points through the day

Health: Allergic to pine trees/pine scented things and has vertigo (connected to her severe fear of heights/acrophobia)

Hobbies: knitting, kick-boxing, archery, collecting coins from other states and countries

Greatest flaw (in their opinion): She would probably say how absentminded she can be as she gets distracted rather easily, but her true flaw would be her determination. Whether it has to do with the way she just has to know how something works, even if it means taking that something apart to figure it out, or the way she pushes people to tell her what’s bothering them, her determination is both a great resource and her greatest downfall. She does apologize when she goes too far, but she hardly ever realizes she’s pushed too much while she’s doing it, something that encourages the others to intervene when necessary.

Best quality (in their opinion): Mick would outright say her imagination and, whilst it’s great, her resourcefulness far surpasses that. Mick has always been good at taking random things and using them for something else. Whether it’s using a bread tie to hold two wires together or unlocking a car with a metal clothes hanger to get the keys out, she’s quick on her feet and logical, something that most people can appreciate when in need of her assistance.

Biggest fear(s): Heights and seagulls. As a kid, she wasn’t bothered by either at all, climbing jungle gyms or fire escapes with ease and feeding the seagulls at the beach out of the palm of her hand, but after taking a nasty fall off of a pier at the age of 9 due to a pair of seagulls attacking her during their fight for food, she refuses to engage with either. She avoids seagulls like the plague and refuses to even climb a ladder, let alone look down from any great height. She’s tried multiple times to get over her fears, but to her dismay, nothing’s worked.

Favorite ice cream: Rootbeer or Moose Tracks

Favorite color: Red

Favorite number(s): 53 (the year of her favorite car)

Favorite songs: Maneater by Nelly Furtado, Hey Lover by The Daughters of Eve, and Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift

Favorite movies: The Princess Bride, Dirty Dancing, Pride and Prejudice, The Fast and The Furious (mostly the first movie, but she likes them all in their own way), and Legally Blonde

Favorite TV shows: Bridgerton, The Umbrella Academy, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Riverdale, Sherlock, Friends, How It’s Made, and, of all things, Jeopardy because she loves trying to answer before the contestants

Favorite books: How to Solve Your Own Murder by Kristen Perrin, A Lonely Broadcast by Kel Byron, Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson, Divergent, and Assistant to the Villain by Hannah Nicole Maehrer

Favorite video games: Undertale, Detroit: Become Human, and What Remains of Edith Finch

A musical they love: Grease and Les Misérables

A place they want to visit most: Morocco and Monaco

#Makana Birch #character info #Mick

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