#hang on tornado siren.

[babyraccy]

hrgghghrrgghgrghhgrghh

#oughh i wish i could just delete my blog and be free forever #not related to anything i just wish #hang on tornado siren. #i forgot what i was saying

[nameless-ken]

I LOVE YOUR WORK DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO DO THIS ITS JUST BEEN ROTTING IN MY BRAIN-Idk what the weather in your area is like- but I live in the Midwest and I imagine the first time Billy and reader are hanging out and the tornado sirens go off and he low key freaks out. Reader is unphased and standing on the porch calmly because reader is used to this and they are probably fine but Billy? He is scared shitless and confused why reader isn’t freaking out?! Billy would say “why are you standing on the porch!? Are you out of your fucking mind the sirens are going off we need to get downstairs! Oh my gosh this town is fucking crazy! Standing on the porch during storms” and maybe the roles are reversed when he eventually takes reader to California and she freaks out over an earth quake and he is unphased this time

I actually live in Indiana so I'm fully aware of that kind of weather (we actually had some tornados a couple weeks ago). Hope you like this, it was fun to write!

Check out my masterlist for more!

Weathering The Storm

You and Billy are hanging out on the steps at his place in Hawkins when suddenly the wail of tornado sirens pierces the air. You barely bat an eyelash, accustomed to the erratic weather patterns of this town. But Billy? He's practically jumping out of his skin.

"What the hell?" Billy's voice cracks with fear. "Why are you just standing there? We need to get down to the basement, now!"

You remain calm, unperturbed by the blaring sirens. "Relax, Billy," you say, your voice steady. "This happens all the time around here. We're fine on the porch. The wind is barely picking up.” You pass him the shared cigarette but he doesn’t take it. 

Billy isn't convinced. He starts pacing back and forth, his eyes wide with panic. "This town is insane," he mutters under his breath. "Standing out here like nothing's wrong."

You watch as he frantically gestures towards the door, urging you to seek shelter. It's clear he's not used to the unpredictability of Hawkins.

You can feel the tension radiating off Billy as he paces, his agitation palpable. You take a drag from the cigarette, the cherry glowing faintly in the dim light. "Seriously, Billy," you try to reassure him, "it's not as bad as it sounds. We've been through worse storms than this."

But Billy's nerves are frayed, his gaze darting nervously towards the sky. "I don't care," he snaps, his voice edged with panic. "I'm not risking it. We need to get to a safe place."

You sigh, knowing there's no reasoning with him when he's like this. Reluctantly, you stub out the cigarette and follow him inside, the sound of the sirens still echoing in the distance.

As you descend into the basement, Billy's fear subsides slightly but are replaced by a tense sort of resolve. You find a corner to hunker down in, surrounded by shelves of old junk and dust-covered boxes.

The minutes tick by slowly, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder. Eventually, the sirens fall silent, signaling that the danger has passed. You glance over at Billy, who looks visibly relieved but still on edge.

"See?" you say, trying to lighten the mood. "Nothing to worry about."

But Billy doesn't respond, his gaze fixed on something in the corner of the room. You follow his line of sight and freeze as you see it—a small, makeshift shelter, stocked with supplies and blankets. It's clear that Billy's fear isn't just a result of the storm—it's something deeper, something rooted in his past.

You reach out a hand to comfort him, but he pulls away, his expression unreadable. And as the storm rages on outside, you can't help but wonder what other demons lurk beneath the surface of Hawkins—and within the heart of Billy Hargrove.

Fast forward to a year later. You find yourselves in California, and suddenly the ground beneath you begins to tremble. Panic sets in as you realize it's an earthquake. You grab onto Billy, your heart racing.

"Shit," you exclaim, your voice trembling. "What do we do?!"

But Billy remains surprisingly calm, his expression unchanged. "Relax," he says, steadying you with a reassuring hand. "It's just an earthquake. We're safe here."

You can't help but feel a pang of irony as the roles reverse. Now it's you who's freaking out while Billy remains unfazed, a stark contrast to the events back in Hawkins.

You cling to Billy's arm, your heart pounding in your chest as the ground continues to shake beneath you. Everything around you rattles and sways, and for a moment, you feel completely helpless.

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice quivering. "What if it gets worse?"

But Billy's calm demeanor remains steadfast. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around you protectively. "Trust me," he says, his voice steady. "We'll be okay. Just stay close to me."

Reluctantly, you nod, trying to steady your breathing as the tremors gradually subside. As the initial panic begins to fade, you realize just how different this experience is from the storms back in Hawkins. There's a sense of inevitability to earthquakes, a reminder of the raw power of nature that no amount of preparation can fully mitigate.

Once the shaking finally stops, you release a shaky breath, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering unease. Billy pulls you into a tight embrace, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

"Thanks," you murmur, grateful for his calm reassurance.

Billy gives you a small smile, his eyes soft with understanding. "Anytime," he says, his voice warm. "We'll always get through these things together." He pecks your lips affectionately. 

And as you stand there, surrounded by the aftermath of the earthquake, you realize that while the roles may have reversed, your bond with Billy remains as steady as ever—a source of strength in the face of whatever challenges lie ahead.

#namelessken requests #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove stranger things #billy stranger things #stranger things billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff

[copperbadge]

Hello! I live in Chicago but didn’t grow up in the Midwest. The tornado sirens recently really freaked me out, but it seems most Chicagoans were just going about their business. Is there a way for me to know when stuff is about to get serious and I should actually run and hide? I was scared and checking the news, but with everyone else acting normal it felt like overkill. Any advice appreciated!! Thank you!!!!

I actually didn't grow up here either! But I have been in Chicago for about fifteen years now, so I guess I can speak with reasonable authority.

The sirens are for tornadoes, though they have also been set off for high winds, bad storms, etc. They are tested at ten in the morning on the first Tuesday of each month, so a lot of us are conditioned to hear them and think "Must be ten am". I've only ever heard them "for real" a handful of times but I've always paid attention. Probably what you were witnessing was people just...incorrectly not giving a shit.

So, first off: if you hear a siren, get inside. Don't worry about what anyone else is doing. Most people will look around and go "nobody else is freaking out so I guess I don't need to" and that's how you end up dead of Insufficiently Freaking Out. The trick is proportionate freaking out. You want to get inside to safety -- a store, the lobby of an office building or hotel, the nearest El stop, even a car or bus is better than being out on foot. If you can get there safely, go home, that's best, but if you can't get home, get indoors. Once you're in safe shelter you can pretty much stop freaking out unless a storm is actively hitting the building. Take the time to check your phone, figure out how to get home if you aren't, check weather apps to see how long it'll last, etc.

It's not impossible that a tornado would make its way into Chicago, but most of the time when weathermen say "Chicago" they mean "the suburbs". The city itself is so built up, and the lake has such an impact on that kind of thing, that it's unlikely, at least currently. If you are not in a suburb or on the outskirts, the odds of an actual facts tornado are pretty slim. That said, Chicago is subject to high winds at times and the sirens can be set off for that, and high winds in Chicago are no joke.

So for me, the siren is a "stay indoors" warning; the one time I heard it while outside, I didn't freak out, but I did stop what I was doing, turn around, and go home. If you're indoors then you can turn your worry down low, though it doesn't hurt to have the weather on the TV. Just as a matter of course, living in the world, you should have a battery-powered lantern or flashlight and know where it is, make sure your phone is charged or start charging it, and keep an eye on the TV.

If you DO need to get to heavy shelter because a genuine disaster is happening on top of you, it's good to know where to go. You don't generally need to hang out in the shelter pre-emptively unless the weather reporter says to, but it helps a lot to know your options. Most high-rise buildings, office and residential, you want to go to the stairwell; they're reinforced and ventilated. If you're in a house that doesn't have a storm cellar or an apartment like my old one, that was just "top floor of a three-floor walkup", go to an interior room without windows, preferably the bathroom, and get into the empty bathtub.

It's tough to strike a balance between necessary caution and anxious overreaction, and I say that as an anxious over-reactor. But the longer you live here the better your sense will be of what is a genuine emergency. I think it took me about two winters here to get a sense of proportion. Occasional murderous heat waves aside, most of our truly dangerous weather happens December-March, so that's good training in when to wig out.

But yeah -- if you're out in the world and you hear a siren, or you see smoke, or you get a bad vibe somewhere, it is okay, encouraged even, to hit the bricks. Don't wait to see what other people do, don't tell anyone else what to do, just be the person everyone else sees and thinks "Hey, maybe I should be concerned about this."

I once walked onto the northbound platform of the Grand Red Line station when it was actively on fire. I looked around at the smoke and the people casually standing in the smoke waiting for their train, went "Fuck all this noise, I'm not dying for a Red Line train," and went right back out again. Roughly half of the stand-arounds saw me heading purposefully for the stairs and started following me; I had just reached street level again when we heard the evacuation order over the loudspeakers. People make dumb choices until they see someone making a smart one.

ANYWAY IDK how long you've been in Chicago but if you're relatively new, welcome, that kind of shit doesn't happen very often I swear, and if you've been here for a while, sorry for overexplaining. :D I am just very into the idea everyone staying safe and paying attention to the sirens. :D

#chicago #safety #weather

[bagopucks]

Blurbs

Jamie Drysdale x Reader

It’s 3:30 am. I woke up in the midst of a storm. So I figured I’d post a storm request I finished.

✄————————————

“She‘s right here, mom.” I peeked up from my phone to see Jamie turning his own in my direction. I waved at his mother on the face time call.

“Oh, hi, honey! I was just asking to make sure you were okay. I know Anaheim’s under a tornado watch right now.”

I frowned at the reminder, and slowly looked back down at my book.

“Mom.” Jamie scolded quietly, as if I wouldn’t be able to hear him from across the couch.

“Right, sorry. I forgot.”

“Do you mind if I hang up? I can’t stay on the phone with you all night.” Jamie spoke in a joking tone, but I knew he was antsy to get off the phone so he could charge it in the case that the power went out. And anybody with an iPhone knows how hot they get when on a call and charging at the same time.

“Yes, Jamie. Be safe, okay? And make sure you have a lot of blankets, and flashlights around. Does your apartment complex have a place to go to at times like these?”

“I think so. People have already visited and let us know where to go if the sirens go off.” Jamie stood up, and my eyes trailed him as he left the living room and walked into the dark kitchen.

I hated thunder storms. What I hated more was tornadoes. I hadn’t lived through one and I didn’t want to. But the threat of one in an area where they weren’t uncommon made me incredibly nervous. Every flash of lighting and loud crack of thunder woke a new wave of nerves. I hated it, but what I hated even more was how calm Jamie seemed.

“Right.. I love you mom.” Jamie returned with a bottle of water in his hand.

“Tell my sweet future daughter in law that I love her too!”

I smiled to myself, and I spared a moment to look up from my phone again, specifically to catch the blush on Jamie’s cheeks before it disappeared.

“I love you too Mrs. Drysdale!” I shouted across the room, and Jamie ended the call quickly after.

“She is so set on you being the girl I marry.”

“And you’re not?” I teased as I looked back down. Jamie quickly got settled on the opposite end of the couch again.

“I am, but she’s been like that since day one.” He shook his head in disbelief, reaching up to push back the dark hair that fell over his eyes.

The light flickered, and for a moment neither Jamie nor I said a word. We both looked up at the ceiling, as if somebody was messing with the lights there. Perhaps we jinxed our own power, because the next thing I knew, there was a loud rumble of thunder and the power completely cut out.

“Great,” I heard Jamie mumble out.

“Jam.” I stretched my legs out across the couch, the tip of my toes just barely grazing his thigh.

“You good?”

“Should we go downstairs?”

“Babe, we’re fine. There’s no siren or anything. Just a loss of power.”

I turned my phone off and set it down. Jamie’s flashlight turned on, and he set his phone down with the light facing upwards. I could see him. It made me feel safer. A flash of lightning lit up the room, far brighter than Jamie’s light. I tensed in anticipation of the thunder, but the loud boom still caught me off guard. My entire body jolted, and the only sound to soothe me had been the sound of Jamie’s laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, pulling my blanket up over my shoulders.

“You.”

“Me?”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Jamie brought his hand down to rest on my ankle.

Another rumble of thunder made me gasp.

“Babe, really.” Jamie insisted. “Come here.” His smile slowly faded into a look of determination. I crawled out from beneath my blanket and moved over to Jamie’s side of the couch, curling into his side. “I’ve got you, alright?” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“You’re safe with me. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” I closed my eyes and nodded slowly. When I opened them, I looked back to the window, wincing at another flash of lightning. I felt Jamie pull me into his chest more, both of us anticipating the thunder, but he was more so worried about me jumping again.

When the thunder did rumble, I pressed deeper into his side. Jamie kissed my head and rubbed his hand up and down my arm in a soothing manner.

“Babe.” Jamie spoke sternly. “Stop thinkin’ about it.” He moved his free hand forward to rest beneath my chin, tilting my head in his direction. I sighed softly. “Don’t think about it.” Jamie leaned forward to press his lips against my own. He put up a good argument. He made for a great distraction. As he pulled away, my I allowed my body to relax against his side. The lightning flashed, but I tried to remain focused on Jamie. He’d get me through this.

“See? That’s not so bad. Gimme another.” Jamie pressed his lips to my own once again, earning a quiet laugh from me before the thunder rumbled. My body tensed, but I didn’t jump.

“You’ll be okay.” Jamie reminded gently against my lips.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale blurb #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

[ressu-rection]

💖art print available on Etsy💖

My experience of King Asmodeus

Upon meeting him while drawing a gift for a friend, he greeted me with a nauseating rush of energy and later with the words “Finish my drawing”

At this point I hadn’t read the myths relating to King Asmodeus and I admittedly giggled a bit because wow, this drawing is a gift, not a commission and the audacity was funny to me. It quickly turned into a “job” tho, with his energy hanging around my right shoulder while I worked.

During this period, a huge storm was coming in and a tornado was expected. I have a huge problems with tornados and getting overwhelmed with anxiety when sirens go off. While the wind bent the trees outside I felt his presence enter into my space and the words “nothing will happen to you and your family”

Thankfully he wasn’t blowing smoke and everything turned out fine, the weather calming down an hour or two later. After the drawing was finished and sent off (signed Dobby the art elf cuz that’s exactly what it felt like), I still felt his energy in the house. With the nerves from the day and the onset of hormones I asked that I be left alone, that his energy is very there, and that it was an honor to meet him but I’m only interested in working with Mammon and this house is closed off to frequent visitors.

He respected my wishes and I felt the air clear. The next day I woke up and like normal folk, scrolled the feed. An artwork popped up with the exact features of the portrait I had done the day before. I took this as a knock at my door and decided to ask what he would like to talk to me about.

A tarot spread later it became pretty clear that he was interested in working with me. A few other discussions later and it slowly became apparent that it was more of a matter of fact instead of a proposal. The whole interaction boldly stated “I’ve adopted you, you’re mine and you work with me now”

Even more discussions with current guides advised me that there was something’s to learn from him and that they felt it was a good choice. I decided to go with the flow and accept it, knowing that he was an addition and not a replacement for current guides. And let’s be honest, he probably seen my daddy issues from miles away and who am I to deny the perfect opportunity to be bossed around by a man that seems to know exactly what he’s doing?

I let him know that, yes, I would like to work with him. Thus initiating the next task. An altar. After just two days of knowing him a space for him was cleared and the beginnings of an altar was set up.

Other things I’ve observed is that even tho he is quite bossy at times, he is very respectful and seems to be very good at communicating. I’ve asked him favors and set boundaries and he will clearly respond and be accommodating.

I’ve also noticed that he has an aura of acceptance that comes with him. A benevolent aura that just simply understands. He is also fantastic at working with my adhd, and rolls with the punches fluently. Taking advantage of my stim breaks and my frequent daydreaming while listening to music.

Overall, it’s a vibe, and I feel honored to share this past week with him. I’m excited to see where it goes in the future. Hail King Asmodeus, thanks for adopting me lol

-Dobby

#my art #king asmodeus #demonology #demon work #left hand path #ars goetia #king solomon #Asmodeus

[edoro]

so hey. consider this. “everyone is regular humans in the modern world” au, right.

approximately 13 years ago, a Terrible And Unsolved ‘Accident’ befell Caleb and Evelyn Clawthorne, and their three year old child disappeared without a trace from the scene. the missing persons case is still open, but at this point, pretty much everyone assumes the kid is dead. the most likely suspect is Caleb’s brother Philip, who also disappeared after that night and hasn’t been seen since, and who Evelyn’s family report seemed to have some issues with the happy couple.

fast-forward 13 years, and Hunter is living with his beloved Uncle Philip on a two person commune in the woods of Connecticut. they live in an off-grid cabin where they make their own clothes, grow their own food, keep some livestock, hunt, and endeavor to be as self-sufficient as possible. once or twice a month, he drives into town to pick up supplies they can’t make themselves, like fuel for the generators and whatnot

Uncle Philip has some very particular beliefs about the degeneracy of these corrupt modern times, and releases sermons over YouTube (Hunter maintains the channel) to a small group of followers who send him money in order to buy themselves a place on his commune - you see, when the end times come and the sinners all descend into bloodshed and barbarism, he will make a safe haven for the believers to come together and live in peace and unity

their property adjoins a public park, and when he isn’t busy with chores - so many chores - Hunter likes to go walking along the fenceline, back in the woods where no one can really see him, and watch the Normal People Going About Their Sinful Lives

he starts to recognize some regulars. there’s a girl who often comes out to the woods to exercise or just be by herself. one day, though, she’s not alone - there’s a group of other girls there, and they’re obviously picking on her.

Hunter watches them verbally tear her to shreds and push her around, then finally leave. when they’re gone, she gets up and takes her anger out on a couple of branches nearby - breaking them, swinging them around, etc.

he creeps closer to the fence, clears his throat, and says, “hey, you seem pretty strong. wanna learn how to fight?” (his uncle has taught him hand-to-hand combat so he can be ready to Defend Their Property from The Unworthy when the End Times come)

and this is how he meets Willow, once he convinces her that he isn’t some kind of weird voyeur but that this is like, his yard technically, and he saw what happened and he wants to help

neither of her friends believe her about the boy in the woods who is teaching her how to fight - Gus’s going theory is a head injury, Luz 100% believes that he’s a ghost, neither of them thinks he’s a real boy until Willow drags them out to meet him, at which point they all collectively agree that he may be real but he’s also definitely some kind of weird prepper or like, Amish or something

Hunter, being a deeply isolated and fucked up little guy, is pathetically glad to have made friends and takes every possible opportunity to swing by and meet them and talk, or show them stuff, or join in their games when they invite him. he also, of course, tries to sell them on his uncle’s cult, because he’s been raised in it for most of his life and he is a True Believer

once he gives them his uncle’s YouTube channel, they go from making jokes about him being in a cult among themselves to realizing, oh, he is Legitimately For Real In A Fucking Cult, Yikes, but they’re kids and he seems fine, if a little weird, so what are they going to do?

(they all collectively agree that they are not going to show any of their parents Uncle Philip’s Video Sermons, because none of them are going to be allowed within 100 feet of this kid if they do)

one day, they’re all hanging out when a huge storm breaks suddenly. it’s a nasty one - wind, lightning, pouring rain, and then the tornado sirens start going off. tornadoes aren’t common in Connecticut, but Hunter lives his life by the adage that it’s better to be safe than sorry, so he grabs his new friends and drags them home to the shelter they have, pushes them all downstairs while he goes to help his elderly and frail uncle

so now they’re all just kind of sitting in there. here’s Philip, very surprised that his wayward nephew appeared with three random teenagers. here are Luz, Gus, and Willow, all kind of wondering if they’re ever going to LEAVE this bunker because, wow, there is a Vibe in here for sure.

and here’s Hunter, excitedly pointing out all the features of the bunker, like the beds and the shelves and the kitchenette and bathroom and separate generator from the house and supplies, because he is just so happy to have friends over and very proud of this little doomsday prepper homestead he and his uncle have made together

so from here on out, Hunter’s friendships aren’t quite so under-the-table, because Philip knows about them, but it also means that Philip is checking in on Hunter’s progress with converting his friends and a lot more vigilant about where he is and who he’s with and what sorts of ideas he’s being exposed to

#idk just an idea. thinking about it. #not sure what to call this... uncle phil's whacky doomsday prepper commune au? #hunter toh #philip wittebane #eventual huntlow ofc #the owl house

[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

The Tornado: Wally x GN Reader

Please listen to this song while reading this

You were just starting to start your paper route. It was drizzling but that didn’t bother you. Getting on your bike. You head out. You start at Howdy’s place first leaving a paper. Heading on to Eddie’s as the drizzle started to get harder. You throw a paper at Eddie door and head on to next house. Poppy’s barn was up next. The pouring seemed to get worse but you always knew it’s always darkest before the dawn. You can do this. As you tossed poppy paper. You started to head to Sally’s when the sirens started. There was no where to hunker down that was safe. So you tossed your bike aside and got into a culvert which is a pipe usually surrounded by dirt to let water go through areas. The tornado hit the ground and it was so loud. You cover your ears and scream but you didn’t hear a sound. It honestly sounded like a freight train coming for you. You were sobbing crying. Begging anyone to save you from this nightmare of a store. From behind your eyes , you imagine Wally and if he would be sad if you were gone. Feeling so stupid for not telling him your feelings. But you tell yourself it’s always darkest before the dawn and hang on as you cry. Saying if you make it. You will tell him how you feel.

The storm died down and it suddenly was calm. You wait a few more minutes to make sure it wasn’t the eye of the storm. After you were sure, you exit the pipe. Seeing all the houses either collapsed or having chunks taken out. You cried happy to be alive . And as everyone was emerging from their own homes basement floors. You run to Wally’s home thinking of doing one thing. As you see him coming out of his basement, next to his broken home. You tackle him to the ground crying and sobbing. You grab his cheeks sobbing, “Wally , I love you and this has shown me that I shouldn’t just not let others know how I feel or it might be to late,” tears falling from your eyes as you say this. Wally hugs you and rubs your back. “There , there neighbor. I love ya too. Thank you ,” he says and gives your forehead a kiss as your a sobbing mess and you sit there with him on the ground crying . Just thankful for yourself and everyone including the puppet you love to be alive.

Short one shot cause I love this song!!!!!

#welcome home #welcome home fandom #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home wally #welcome home x y/n #wally darling x self insert #wally x y/n #wally x reader

[delopsia]

Thinking about Rhett looking after you during storms...

Wabang. A tiny excuse for a town that grows closer and closer to being downgraded to a village every year. Forgotten by many, tucked away into the southwest corner of the Teton range, you’ll miss it even on the most detailed of maps. First driving into town, it’s hard to understand why the town has been practically abandoned; with vast pastures, a scattering of crystal clear lakes, and a breathtaking view of the mountains, Wabang is the very definition of picture perfect.

Rhett’s always referred to Wabang as a siren. She’s beautiful until you get too close. You’ve never understood what he meant by that, but to be fair, you never thought to ask him to elaborate. Even as you made the life-altering decision to pack up and settle into a comfy rental home on the edge of town. Even as Rhett quietly asked if you were absolutely sure that you want to go through with it, meekly volunteered to leave Wabang to come to you instead.

Spring arrives a week after you settle in, bringing with it all of its infamous trademarks; chirping birds, flowers re-emerging from the ground, bearing colorful buds that haven’t quite bloomed yet. The atmosphere is as cozy as a cheesy Hallmark movie; you find yourself waking up late in the morning to sunshine peeking through the curtains, bathing your skin in its warmth. Somewhere past noon, your new neighbor stops by to gift you a freshly baked pie and some of her homemade jam. She says she made too much and has no way to get rid of it, but you get the sneaking suspicion she's gone out of her way to do something nice for you.

When you see her out the door, you don't think too hard about the dark clouds rolling in from the west. Spring showers. No big deal, you've dealt with them before, and you shall deal with them again. But then thunder booms, ear-splittingly loud as your home shakes so hard that a newly hung shelf comes clean off the wall. The shining sun is gone within an instant, replaced by low-hanging, almost black clouds that carry squealing winds and an ocean's worth of rain. Distant sirens wail to life, screaming wordlessly about a potential tornado, but you can barely hear it over the screeching of wind beating around the corners of your house.

You hardly know what to do; this house is laid out strangely; every room has a window, and you haven't the slightest clue where the safest point in your house is. The electricity has long since been knocked out, leaving you to your own devices in a house you're unfamiliar with. You don't even have a kitchen table to hide beneath because it's currently on backorder for the next week. You've just resigned yourself to accepting your fate from the comfort of your couch when the front door bursts open.

Your first instinct is to think that a tornado is on the ground and it's right on your doorstep, but then a familiar form comes stumbling in, chasing down the door handle that escaped his grip.

"Rhett?" Lifting your head from the stiff, decorative pillow, "Rhett, what the hell—"

"'s bad out there, ain't it?" Discarding his dripping jacket in the middle of the floor because there's nowhere else to put it. Water drips from the messy curls that poke out from beneath his ears, leaving tiny spots in his gray t-shirt as he crosses the room.

"Don't tell me you drove all the way here while those sirens were going off," but you already know the answer to your own question.

"'course I did," pride leaking from his tone as he settles into the gap of space next to you, arms open wide, welcoming you into his warm, safe chest. "Can't let some mean ol' twister get my baby, now can I?"

Even as the sirens begin to wail once more, hail beating against your windows as the wind shrieks, threatening to break in at any moment, it's hard to feel scared at all. So carefully secured in Rhett's arms that it feels as if nothing can get to you here.

"You don't seem frightened in the slightest," you find yourself whispering, the slow thump of his heart loud in your ear.

"'Ts normal 'round here," those are words you certainly do not want to hear, but he says it so calmly that it hardly gets a rise out of your nerves. "You'll get used to it after a while."

When the storm clears, the most damage you find is a dent in Rhett's truck bed from the hail and a few downed branches. Branches that wind up getting hauled down to the ranch, fodder for a fire, exclusively because you both are having cravings for S'mores as of late.

There's plenty of space for you to sit, there are fold-out chairs in the barn, and Rhett's just got done building a third wooden bench, but you're snuggled up in the same damn Adirondack chair. Sharing the same S'more because your eyes were bigger than your stomachs, and now you've got too many.

"'Nother storms a'comin'," he observes aloud, in between pressing a chocolatey kiss to your temple.

But you don't see a single dark cloud in the sky. "How do you know?"

Your question goes unanswered for some time; Rhett's too busy licking the pad of his thumb and trying to wipe off the mess he's left on your skin. Eventually, he bites the bullet and just licks it off you with his tongue. "Y'remember that time I fell off that bull and broke my collarbone?" Pitifully pawing at the wet spot on your head, you nod. "It starts hurtin' every time one rolls in."

Mother Nature allows you a solid five minutes of giggled bickering before she douses you in a downpour. Zero to a hundred in a split second, effectively ending your fire and sending you scurrying toward the Abbott house like a pair of roaches. It's not a good idea for you to go upstairs, but you go anyway because testing your luck with potential tornadoes is better than Cecelia fussing at you for being too touchy.

Thunder booms just as you stumble into the tiny little room, sends you jumping so high that you're surprised your head doesn't hit the ceiling. Rhett settles himself into a small rocking chair in the far corner of the room, beckoning you closer, "Pick a blanket 'n get over 'ere."

Later, you'll have to ask him why he has so many blankets. For now, you're content to steal a brown-striped one from the foot of his bed and curl into his lap once more.

"Why are Wabang storms so violent?" You mutter, mostly to yourself, as you settle into his broad frame.

"This place's cursed."

And he's not kidding. On top of the storms, a freak swarm of locusts takes over the town for the entire last week of April, only thwarted by snowfall. Two and a half feet of it in one damn night. It's gone before the first week of May is over.

The storms only grow worse as summer rolls in, never doing a lot of damage but so violent that you catch yourself thinking that this is it. This is the storm that has a bite as strong as its bark. They show up at the crack of dawn, during high noon, sunset, and in the middle of the night, without warning or indication beforehand.

But, somehow, Rhett always finds a way to you.

A storm catches you by surprise while you're out on a nature trail with a friend; rain comes down in sheets so thick that you can hardly see where you're going. A dark mass appears a few feet in front of you, and what do you know, it's your soaked cowboy hunting you down. All because he saw the clouds and knew there wasn't enough time for you to get back in time.

He turns around on his morning drive to the ranch just to sit next to you while the storm rages on because he fears something bad happening to you while he's gone. Once, he's home playing a game that he's been dying to start, but he puts it on pause the moment lightning flashes. "It can wait," he tells you as he snuggles up behind you, chin resting on your shoulder as he watches what you're doing.

You get used to it, just like he'd said you would, but those visits never cease. It doesn't matter where the two of you are or what's going on; he's there. A quiet, sturdy presence that grounds you just by being there. During his rodeos, he herds you toward the chutes, uncaring of rules because he'll be damned if you stand in the storm alone. During his brief rides, his buddies, even the least observant of them, are careful to keep you close. "Just in case the wind snatches you up," he always says.

Once, he calls you while you're visiting family, "You know, I just caught myself drivin' home because I saw lightnin'."

And as you lay here in bed, listening to rain beat against the roof and wind scream around the corners of this old rental home, you can't help but smile when you hear the door creak open.

"I thought you were supposed to be in a hotel two hours away," yawning as you peer over your shoulder, marveling as he lifts his t-shirt from his gently toned body.

"I'm s'posed to be," the bed dips as he settles in, legs tangling with yours, lips peppering kisses to your neck while he settles in. "Had a feelin' my baby might need some protectin'."

Because he might not be the strongest man in the world, but he's forever ready to take on anything that could hurt you. Even if that's just a silly old downpour.

#thought of this while i was standing in the rain earlier #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott outer range #outer range fic #outer range #outer range amazon #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #reader self insert #self insert #x reader #reader insert #delgato's thinking #delgato's warmups

[ackermanbitch]

Teenage Dirtbag (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader) Part 6.5?

a/n: so this is honestly just filler (which is why it's so SHORT) before the part of the fic that takes place during the beginning of homecoming. i dont see the point in writing for the rest of civil war when realistically this is as far as reader would be involved. also not using (y/n) bc i dont like it anymore :D

warnings: arguing?? but it's kind of funny, reader being very much tony's daughter and repressing very real and important emotions

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5

word count: 730 (augh its so short im sorry, next chapter will be the normal length dw )

"Ross wants you in juvie, and honestly, I can't totally blame him! You were assisting war criminals. War. Criminals."

The teen groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to lean as far away from the boy sitting next to her, wondering why the hell he chose to sit right there when there was an entire private plane for him to roam. "Why didn't you have this conversation with me before I left?" She whispered angrily, adjusting the phone in her hand to speak directly into the microphone.

Regardless of where Peter sat, he would've heard Tony's yapping through the phone in response to being interrupted during a lecture.

"Oh I'm sorry my scolding doesn't line up with your schedule young lady, but this is the only time I could fit in to talk to you, what between all the meetings I'm having in an attempt to keep you out of jail!"

"Can't you, I don't know- tell them I happened to be going for a-... a nice stroll? Walked into the crossfire by mis-" She stumbled over her words, eyes darting to Peter who snorted at her idea before she even finished. He quickly cleared his throat, head turning away so quickly she thought he might've pulled something.

Tony brought his palm up to his forehead, some measly attempt to soothe his growing migraine, "This is not a joke, we're talking about you potentially doing prison time-"

"I've hardly done anything deserving a real charge Dad, they just think I'm going to do something and I obviously won't, seeing as my team of 'war criminals' are in fucking Alcatraz-"

"One, you need to watch your damn language and two, you think I don't know that? Of course I think these allegations are a load of bullshit, it doesn't make it any easier to shut them down." Tony sighed, checking the time on his phone before bringing it back to his ear. "Listen, I have to go, call me when you land and don't let Happy fall asleep. Can't have you two teenagers unsupervised on my private plane."

She glanced at Happy's snoring figure on the other side of the jet, "Yeah, sure, he's wide awake. Love you, bye." She deadpanned, hanging up before Tony could finish reciprocating the sentiment.

She may have forced a mask of indifference, even carelessness, when faced with the consequences but behind all that, her brain felt like a fucking circus. A circus with multiple tornado sirens going off, fires and mass hysteria. Oh, and every clown wore her face. Her stupid, 'rebel against dad' at any chance, war criminal assisting face. She'd rather end up in prison than have to face her dad again. What if he never forgives her for this, what if he never moves on, what if this isn't like every other time she's done something stupid, this could change the course of her li-

"You're not.. actually gonna go to jail, right?" Peter interrupted her raging thoughts, giving her quite the worried stare.

She sighed, fiddling with her phone, "No, he would never let that happen. Not with his troupe of lawyers. I'll get let off with a 'hefty warning'," She emphasized with air quotes, "AKA forty torturous minutes of Cap telling me how I need to make better choices. Though he's stuck in the clink right now so I don't know."

She tried to hide the slight shake to her voice, how it sounded more like she was convincing herself rather than explaining it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don't tell Mr. Stark I said this but uh- Y'know, he's Captain America, he'll probably break out of there in no time."

She slowly turned her head to look at him, slowly letting a smile break out across her face. "Yeah, maybe. He's pretty crazy. Suuuch a rebellious guy, very anti-government."

Peter shrugged with a hopeful smile, "I don't know, this whole thing started over him not wanting to sign a peace treaty, that seems extremely anti-government."

"I guess you're right Parker, as always." She grinned, ignoring his flushed cheeks at her compliment and letting her eyes drift to Happy.

"You got a marker?"

--

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @lily-sinclair-2006 @b-barnes04 @ink-stained-eyes

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #marvel x reader #tony stark x daughter reader #tony stark

[everything-is-alot]

misc. air ghoulettes headcanons

loving the idea that cumulus and cirrus are big time adrenaline seekers. anything that gets the blood pumping and lets them feel the wind in their hair. they like to climb the roof of the ministry to the most precarious parts, and stand there barely hanging on with a giant smile on their faces. they have done a lot of really stupid and dangerous shit just for the thrill. if one of them suddenly goes missing while stopping in a city during a tour, its probably because they found the tallest building in the area and are sitting on the top dangling their feet off the edge and looking down at the city below.

also i think cirrus would really love storms, its a comfort thing. she'd stay outside for hours before being dragged back inside by another ghoul. she listens to rain/thunder/wind or even tornado sirens so she can sleep at night.

cumulus is afraid of the sky when there aren't any clouds in it. it is deeply unsettling to her. she has wings and prefers to be in high places. she sleeps in a nest of blankets. her favorite weather is snow, she loves to bundle up with a fun scarf and play in the snow.

the air around them is always kind of humid and small little clouds tend to follow them around. cirrus has more wispy strands while cumulus has more shaped coulds.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls headcanons #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

Somewhere in Germany, but I can't place it. Man, I hate this part of Texas. Close my eyes, fantasize, three clicks and I'm home. When I get back I'll lay around. Romanticize a quiet life, there's no place like my room. But you had to go, I know, I know, I know. Like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore. Not even the burnouts are out here anymore. And you had to go, I know, I know, I know. Out in the park, we watch the sunset, talking on a rusty swing set. After a while you got quiet and I got mean. I'm always pushing you back away from me but you come back with gravity. And when I call, you come home, a bird in your teeth. So i gotta go, I know, I know, I know. When the sirens sound, you'll hide under the floor but I'm not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado. I'm gonna chase it. I know, I know, I know. I gotta go. I know, I know, I know. Driving out into the sun, let the ultraviolet cover me up. Went looking for a creation myth, ended up with cracked lips. Windows down, scream along to some America First rap, country song. A slaughterhouse, an outlet mall, slot machines, fear of God. Windows down, heater on. Big bolts of lightning hanging low over the coast, everyone's convinced it's a government drone or alien spaceship. Either way, we're not alone. I'll find a new place to be from. A haunted house with a picket fence to float around and ghost my friends. No, I'm not afraid to disappear. The billboard said, "the end is near." I turned around, there was nothing there. Yeah, I guess the end is here. The end is here. The end is here. The end is here. The end is here.

#lyric-posting #this song is. so reaper core guys #blah blah

[thearchivistswilltolive]

THIS SONG! fuck. i’m cryinf. I know the end. wow phoebe bridgers you sure do get me. I hate this so much (lie. this is an amazing experience)

I love the contrast between the first half and the second. there’s so many amazing sections to it.

in the first, it’s slow, and sad, and there’s a huge sense of regret and nostalgia. a nostalgia that hits you in the chest and makes you miss your childhood even though you never enjoyed it while it was happening.

it’s confused, and calm and so so sad. “close my eyes, fantasise, three clicks and I’m home”

“you had to go I know I know I know, like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore” the person she’s missing’s departure felt inevitable, but she reminds herself of this bc she’s resolving her feelings through convincing herself that it’s ok. she compares the relationship to the troughs and peaks of waves that begin from nothing and grow so big and meaningful then fall back into nothing leaving with a sense of question as to whether they were ever there.

“not even the burnouts are out here anymore” is about the concrete nature of the apocalypse or whichever disaster is happening in the song. the burnouts are always pictured to have nowhere else to go, so if they aren’t present you know for sure that it’s serious.

“out in the park we watch the sunset, talking on a rusty swing set” evokes feelings of childish hope and joy through the imagery of the park and the swings, but also of an end of something through the sunset, and of the ruining of something that used to be nice, like the picture of the rust. it feels very mature somehow, like watching something beautiful coming to an end.

“after a while, you went quiet and I got mean” mistaking silence for rejection, and trying to avoid it by rejecting first. it feels like human nature and it hurts.

“I’m always pushing you away from me but you come back with gravity” trying to push someone away maybe because you don’t want to get hurt or because you think you’re not good enough, but the person will always come back because they have to and it’s destiny.

“and when the sirens sound you’ll hide under the floor but i’m not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado” others being afraid but feeling like you have nothing to lose and running back to places you once loved.

then there’s those gorgeous rising strings that bring in the next section:

“went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips” trying to find meaning in life through the beginning of life itself, something bigger than ourselves, fiction and fantasy being better than reality. finding yourself disappointed by the fantasy, finding nothing that means anything as you were always going to.

“windows down, scream along, to some america first rap country song” showing that she doesn’t care anymore and that screaming like this is a form of therapy, and it’s not like anyone is listening anymore anyway.

“big bolts of lightning hanging low over the coast everyone’s convinced it’s a government drone or an alien spaceship” shows the intersection of fantasy (the lightning) with reality (the coast), then the conspiratorial ideas of those around her about what they are shows the panic surrounding the apocalypse in question. everyone rushes to a fear inducing idea because it can help distract them from the terrifying reality (fear of god)

“either way, we’re not alone” this references the aliens, not being alone in the universe, and also the government drone, showing the government watching everyone. It also references the fact that everyone is supposedly going through this together, but that everyone still feels alone.

“i’ll find a new place to be from” feels like a rejection of the place you grew up in, because of the vibe of the place itself, the people you were around or the memories you have of it afterward, perhaps tainted by poor memories. saying goodbye to a place that used to mean a lot

“a haunted house with a picket fence” a place filled with fear that is glorified and acts like it is perfection. the lies of suburban towns.

“to float around and ghost my friends” running away from those you love and ignoring them in an act of self preservation. feeling like other people are doing important things and you’re just “floating around”

“the billboard said the end is near” the state of the world as we know it and the way it tells you everything is over making existing fears feel much worse. it’s difficult to ignore feelings when they are presented at you externally as well as mentally.

“I turned around, there was nothing there” the world being destroyed as we speak. things you thought existed but maybe they never did. maybe you dreamt it.

“yeah I guess the end is here” accepting it eventually, even though it feels so against your core beliefs.

and, eventually. my favourite, the screams. the sheer exasperation. it’s fear, it’s anger, and loss and it really feels out of place with the perfectly written song. it fits a lot with the themes though. it’s like you’re finally losing it after being so coherent and complete. like trying that hard has it’s negative side effects.

#phoebe bridgers #i know the end #I know the end phoebe bridgers #long post #lyric analysis #quotes

[alchexmy]

The Rest of Us

These events unfold 10 years after The Outbreak and with several stories from the infected.

2003

The tv buzzed in the background, something about product being withdrawn from major stores, blah blah, you weren't really listening, eyes staring at the results of your application; med school, a streamlined program, BS/MD.

Accepted.

Accepted.

You couldn't believe it, you'd practically ran home from work to find out. Happy 18th Birthday to me, right? Eyes looked around the kitchen, you don't know why you expected anyone to be home, it was the dragging end of an autumns day, both parents were working. Who to call, who to tell?

Feet ran to the landline, skin patting the ground as you moved. You'd used up all your minutes last week, when you had been on the phone for an ungodly amount of time to your best friend stressing about the interview.

The phone beeped as you pressed each number, then it rang.

And it rang... and rang.

Odd. She always picked up. You shrugged it off, hanging the call up, returning the phone to the handset. Maybe she was in the bathroom, or showering off sunscreen after basking her pale skin under the sunshine in the yard.

You trudged back to the kitchen, looking out. It was getting dark now.

Another siren sounded in the distance. What was that, the fifth one today? You accepted that you lived in the outskirts of a major city but it was unusual even for here. Gaze shifted to the clock, 6.17pm. It wouldn't be long until your mom was home. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the thought of being able to tell her your news. Accepted.

Stomach grumbled in complaint, so you reached up into the cabinets for something, fingers trailing over cans and jars and packets of food. No... no... no... you closed the door again with a sigh. You could hold off until she got home.

That was your first mistake. Oh how you wished you had just eaten a snack that day.

Another siren. You glanced at the clock again. 6.19pm. Surely not? The tv continued to buzz from the other room.

Emergency services... contain... products recalled are as foll... be advised, close all windo...

A chap at the door. It made you jump out of your skin, head twisting round so fast it made your muscle burn for a moment. It was just your neighbour, Mrs. Faulkner. You opened the door.

"Hey kiddo! Is your mom in?"

You shook your head, distracted from words by the way her arm was twitching. She smiled, it was big, full of teeth, unnatural.

"Alright, well, you tell her I need that recipe book back, okay? My mother, she's gone all picky since getting those new dentures, you know?"

This time you nodded. Of course you didn't know, but it was only polite. Her fingers were twisting.

"Okay, I'll swing by later!"

Something in the way she walked made you close the door behind her and lock it, brows knitting themselves together in confusion; something in your gut told you it was fear.

Another siren. The tv was still buzzing.

This time, you listened, watching Mrs. Faulkner continue to walk away. Her arm had stopped twitching, she was in her yard.

"Soon, we will close this broadcast in exchange for an emergency message from Washington. Please be advised, stay inside your homes..."

Eyelids pushed closer together as you registered what the presenter was saying. Mrs. Faulkner was staring at something, waving, shouting. Another siren. You followed her line of sight and noticed your other neighbour was packing stuff into their car. A lot of stuff. And they weren't exactly leisurely about it.

"...lock your windows and your doors, and shelter within the inner most part of your home, if you have a basement, please take shelter the-"

It sounded like a tornado warning. You didn't live anywhere near where tornados would be possible. It was replaced with a long drawn tone, then a robotic voice.

"We interrupt this program to deliver an emergency alert broadcast..."

The sounds of the world began to drown out. It was just you, your breathing and the tv.

"Please be advised, civil authorities have issued a contagious disease warning."

Mrs. Faulkner fell to the ground. A police car sped up the street, blocking your vision.

Please be advised, civil authorities have issued a contagious disease warning.

Before any thoughts could enter your mind, the police car passed, and you watched her rise back up. But something was different.

You didn't even wait to analyse the situation, frantically running up the stairs, grabbing anything you needed, socks, shoes, your rucksack, your mobile, running back down the stairs.

And she was there. At your front door. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Clawing.

You were paralysed with fear. Someone yelled from the other side of the glass she pounded against.

"GET DOWN!"

Not even a second passed before a gunshot split her head in two right before your eyes, her blood decorating the door, the pane cracked. By the time you flinched, you looked away, it was too late. The same voice yelled again.

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

You didn't move, head still turned from the door, eyelids performing a series of half blinks as tears welled in your vision.

"I CAN SEE YOU, OPEN THE DOOR!"

A voice which was recognisable, something unable to place without looking. Your own voice was barely a whisper in return.

"I can't."

"Yes you CAN, you can, COME ON!"

Eyes raised to meet his. He was shaking the door handle, a gun still in the tight grasp of his other hand, held across his body. He looked about ready to kick the door off its hinges.

"There you go, come on, COME ON!"

#archive of our own #call of duty fanfic #character ai #character bot #cod fanfic #wattpad #yn pov #ynpov #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fandom #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #joel miller #fireflies #the last of us fanfiction #tiktok #carrd bios

[traceamountsoftimetravel]

2, 4, 7, 12, 14, 18

2. What was your favorite film as a child?

It was very probably Toy Story. Depending on what you consider "child" aged, it also could have been one of several disaster movies.

4. Is there a film that you love except for the ending? What would you change about the ending?

Yeah. Return of the Jedi. The part where Vader goes "NOOOO!" It undermines Vader's subtle acting, which is really tough considering it's all body language.

7. Has a film ever given you nightmares?

I've had ones after watching war films where I'm suddenly at boot camp. Twister gave me nightmares for a while, because living in the Midwest, you know there's a non-zero chance of encountering a tornado, especially in the middle of the night (I've slept through sirens, oops).

12. Which movie has your favorite soundtrack?

Lord of the Rings The Two Towers

14. Who is your favorite director? Why?

Spielberg, hands down. His direction elevates already good material, for the most part. And you never feel cheated. If you want to feel a certain emotion, there's a Spielberg movie for that. Saving Private Ryan will sober you up, and Tintin will make you feel elated.

18. What film do you think has the coolest poster?

This one. A friend from Scotland ordered this for me and it hangs right next to my desk.

#asks #thank you! #nitrateglow #I should add the ROTJ one is the Lucas cut from 1997 or whatever year it was

[lastwordsofdutchschultz]

I heard the old song around me again,

Dreamed of that old weber street sentry.

It was in my dorm, in vision form and yelled to me.

You great black siren wreathed blue mist who watches the horizon

O Caller of constant risk, standing over Mississippi tributary crick-towns,

You were in my home.

You wailed your lofty warning to us in the showers and in the dining hall.

I heard your noon-time cry and was comforted by the old danger,

not the located panic of the mountains, but the low-hanging fog of terror that leaves its dew in the olentangy morning,

The death-fear that condenses and weighs down your clothes,

That snatches the food from your stomach like consumption,

That chews up the lungs, the heart, the throat.

What have i got from you?

My doctor told me that only a marrowy pulp is left there.

no roots clutch.

No branches grow.

there is nothing in my head and my eyes have gone.

My limp is coming back and my accent talks to me at night.

But you were with me even in Baltimore, in shotgun houses by the harbor,

And i say that i have your song

A version of something i wrote, which had to do with the tornado sirens you hear so much of in ohio. I hear them now away from home because they are part of me.

#poets on tumblr #poetry #free verse #tumblr poetry #tumblr poet society #writing #ohio #ohioartist #midwest

[thegoosewiththemost]

Sick

Summary: request for @nak3d-snak3 , Feral BJ and sick reader. Hope you get better soon!

Why not have the best of both worlds by having feral BJ make you sick?

eyyy thanks for answering me! For a request I would love either more feral bastard! BJ orrrr BJ with a sick reader (im sick rn so im projecting). No rush babe and hope you have a great day!

It was deep winter and BJ had had the brilliant idea to steal your fluffy nightgown and slippers away from you sometime during the night. Your room never had the best insulation as it was and the chill wind that morning made it no better.

You fumbled around searching for your coat as the alarm rang, being careful to not catch a cold as you transferred yourself from the warmth of the blanket to what you hoped would be the snug fit of your gown. But you couldn’t find it. Frowning, you wrapped the blanket around closer to yourself, suspecting foul play and also refusing to expose yourself to the cold.

You had been sure to leave it hanging by the bedside as you did every night before you went to sleep so you looked everywhere around the bed, under the blanket, on the floor and in the dresser where a stack of Bio-Exorcist flyers were half-scattered on the inside of the drawer.

Ah. So it was going to be one of those days. Sighing with frustration, you realised there was nothing to be done but get up or risk being late to work.

Betelgeuse sure knew how to pick the worst possible time for his antics, and while they remained relatively harmless, you noticed that he was becoming bolder by the day as he tried to test your limits. You figured that maybe it was his way of communicating his need for your attention.

Reluctantly, you placed your feet down on the false timber floorboards, feeling the cold seep up your legs. You dreaded needing to walk into the tiled bathroom which was always undoubtedly freezing more than anywhere else in the house.

Shivering, you ditched the blanket in exchange for a much lighter coat, a bad idea, you figured after you realised just how much the temperature difference was when wearing it. It felt like placing a thin shift on in the middle of a rainstorm and expecting it to block out all the wet and cold.

A loud sneeze like a tornado siren rose up out of you as you realised you lost the battle. You would at the very least be cursed with a runny sniffly nose the whole day and as for the cherry on top, work was fast approaching. You always left just enough time for you to have a warm cup of tea or a hot breakfast, but that morning it seemed that neither would be possible when you found that all your mugs and bowls had gone mysteriously missing from their places in the cabinets.

“Ohhh someone’s got a runny nose today! What’s the matter, babes? You look like death.” Leaning against the front door was Betelgeuse, lounging in your fluffy gown and slippers with all the charm of a voice like nails on chalkboard and the entitlement of a freeloading roommate.

“I would say that I’m keeping all this warm for you, but I’m dead cold, if you know what I mean.”

#beetlejuice x reader #musicaljuice x reader #request