The TOS Phone Hell Meme

[somepartsbroken]

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#1: Texts From Last Night
#2: Damn you, Autocorrect
#3: Recipient Misfire
#4: Mix & Match
#5: Wildcard


Option One:
Texts From Last Night
You know the drill: RNG, or pick one that tickles your fancy. Post blank and let others text you about their night, or send out a mass text for anyone to reply to by posting a TFLN when you tag the post.

Option Two:
Damn You Autocorrect
We've all done it. Either sit and wait for other people's mistakes to come to you with a blank tag, or take the bull by the horns and make the first move mistake by posting an autocorrect error when you tag the post.

Option Three:
Recipient Misfire
It's just so easy to hit the wrong name in your phone, isn't it? Embarrassment city! ...But is that better or worse than manually inputting the number incorrectly and texting a complete stranger by mistake?

Option Four:
Mix & Match!
Let autocorrect fuck up the TFLN you're sending to the wrong person. Go nuts!

Option Five:
Do Whatever The Fuck You Want
You know what, if none of these ideas are good enough for you, your ass can come up with something else. I don't even care.

[I stole this shit from Bakerstreet; Pretend the communicator somehow does text. I dont know.]

Comments

[abetterhappyending]

[ For a long moment there's no response. Then, Maria pushes off of the door and weaves her way across the floor to him. She stands in front of him and then leans down, one hand landing heavily on his shoulder and the other carding through and then grasping his hair, and tilts her head into a kiss. ]

[to_this_end]

[It takes him entirely by surprise. Regardless of the racy things said over text messages, he never thought Maria would make any sort of move. Flirt and tease, certainly, but not this.

His hands go to her waist immediately, out of habit and to help steady her. Her lips are warm and soft and sweet and it is with great reluctance that Rush turns his head away.]

Are you certain this is a good idea?

[Because by now it's foolish to try and protest he doesn't want her to kiss him.]

[abetterhappyending]

[ The record skips over to the next track as they part, and so close to his face still her dark eyes are hazy from drunkenness and the sweet sting of it is on her breath. they set straight onto his though; she knows where she is and whom she's speaking to. ] I have waited a very long time for a man who makes me happy, [ she says, slurring on "very."

Suddenly she tilts over, but her fingers clench into his shoulder and she crawls onto the sofa beside him instead, hands and knees first. On her knees facing the couch's back, the robe trailing to the floor, she snuggles her face into the nook of his shoulder and neck, a hand on his chest, whispering, ] It's you. It's you, [ and then after a pause she whispers the lyrics to the song against his neck in time with Ella's voice, ] That same old tingle that I feeeel inside...

[to_this_end]

Oh. Darling...

[His arms go around her and he holds her, cheek against the soft cascade of her hair. He doesn't understand. He's never understood. He can't claim this is the first young woman who has both sought his company and improved it with her own. He can't claim he doesn't have any romantic interest in Maria, either, but he ignores it. Because as before, he's assumed he's too old, too broken, too miserable. And she's from a different time, she has a future, there are so many reasons he shouldn't be here with her right now.

But she makes him happy. He understands what she means. There have been very few true bright lights in the darkness after Gloria, and he was certain they had all passed him by at this point. But here was Maria, in his arms, and it felt painfully right to sit here with her in his arms, listening to Ella Fitzgerald and breathing her scent.]

[abetterhappyending]

[ She rests more limply against him, her eyes shut and lips moving in a muttering of the lyrics, no longer coherent words. "You're the lover, you're the lover, you're the lover..." Ella croons, and soon enough Maria is slumping over, body tilting and head sliding down his chest, slow enough for him to catch, as she's passing out. ]

[to_this_end]

[She's a welcome weight, and Rush eases her down to lay comfortably across him, settling back against the couch. He has nowhere else to be. And when was the last time he sat comfortably with someone he cared for and cared for him in turn like this? It simply felt natural to stay seated, one hand resting on Maria's shoulder, the other holding his glass of wine. He even enjoyed the music she had on.

He could put her to bed, he knows, but he'd rather stay where he is.]

[abetterhappyending]

[ After he's done shifting her (and maybe moving one leg that falls backwards off the couch back up onto it), Maria lies curled on her side with her shoulder squished against his thigh and her hands lying between his stomach and her face. Rush can move her however he likes: her limbs are dead weight and only fall or flop when nudged. Despite whatever trumpets blare in the music, she'll be asleep like this for hours. ]