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bonebrokebuddy · 9 months ago

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@kodedgeekthings eyo you mentioned wanting a dpxdc prompt for Howard, Batman’s mechanic!

Harold misses fixing toys for kids and in his off hours has taken up the habit of answering questions on forums about machining, electrical, engineering, mechanics, and mechanical design that are often frequented by students.

One day, he comes across a request by a college student who is trying to assemble his own car out of scrap he bought from a local wrecking yard.

Ghostly_Boy states that he has previous experience in machining and can make replacements for broken or too-damaged parts if need be, but he doesn’t know where to start and what specific requirements he needs to reach to ensure it’s street legal.

Harold willing to help, he answers a few of Ghostly Boy’s clarifying questions:

- Great questions!

It’s good to note that if you’re not careful, fixing or making your own car from parts can be a moneysink and can cost you more than a brand new vehicle. - That being said, your first major step to ensuring you can drive the car is to get the title of the body/frame of the car you plan to build. It’ll have the VIN on a plate welded to the frame usually near the lower edge of the windshield wipers on the drivers side. It’s how the DMV identifies vehicles for licensing.

- Generally, you’ll at first get a “wreck out” title that shows the vehicle is listed as a total loss, but if you can assemble the parts for the car with that frame, the DMV can check if it’s properly running and road worthy & license for you to use it on public roads if you’ve done the proper paperwork.

- Once that is done, it’s largely a case of getting the right parts and assembling them. Depending on how much you have to repair, you could be taking on a task that could give a challenge to even a seasoned mechanic. There may be additional paperwork depending on what exactly you need to repair, like the breaks, lights, steering, etc.

- If you want to build the car entirely from scratch, chassis and all, that’s an entirely different story with a much more complicated list of requirements to make it street legal, so getting a frame from a junkyard is a great first step!

- Make sure to keep all bills of sale, junkyard receipts, invoices and manufacturers’ certificates on any major parts you used in building the vehicle to prove its road worthy to the DMV when it’s complete!

Harold doesn’t always answer first but over time he’s found the adventures of this kid amusing and keeps up with it.

Ghostly_Boy keeps the forum updated with his progress:

The kid spontaneously deciding to scrap the wiring system and make his own in a span of 3 days, leaving experienced mechanics on the forum practically screaming at the kid for his updates showing him using random wires he salvaged and pigtailing them together to get the length of wire he needed.

Mixing not only multiple types of wires but ones that didn’t have the protection needed for auto use. DIY-ing his own relay and fuses he didn’t have and connecting the wrong grounds and switches. And planning on leaving the wires unwrapped and loose.

Leaving Ghost to promptly redo the wiring, correctly this time, within 78 hours.

Making a repair of a massive rusted hole on the passenger side by the bumper and the front tire via cutting 1/2in past the rust, grinding it pretty and clean, tac & seam welding the vintage aluminum housing material of a toaster to cover the hole to the response of Harold and many others in the forum just going “… I guess that would work?”

Harold and many others telling the kid that this “ectoplasm” material wasn’t cleared through the EPA’s Clear Air Act and could be illegal to drive with it as it’s fuel source unless he got the emissions tested & the center of gravity of the car adjusted to have the center of gravity a gas car has, it wouldn’t pass Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards. Nor would the previously untested on material make it easy or quick to get an Emissions testing certificate. Best to just stick with gas.

Removing what he thought was a “skid plate” that turned out to be another rusted out section on the frame on the bottom of his car and repairing it with steel he salvaged from an old medical table he had laying around. (To the multiple slightly confused commenters asking how Ghost had a spare medical table, he replied, “eh, my folks visit every so often and they’ve been giving me things they’re clearing out of the house so they can move closer to my older sister. I just so happened to get the ye olde medical table. They’re an odd couple of folks but that’s why I love them.”)

People just crying at the kid to go to rockauto.com and just buy the damn parts he needs for his car. (A good resource btw)

The kid kept cutting corners to save cash but through the badgering of Harold and many others that he actually would have to spend money to make this car be safe to drive in, he finally got it completed.

Ghost’s post of him leaving DMV waving the updated title to the car in its envelope in the air, titled, “THE DMV FINALLY SAID IT WASN’T A FIRE HAZARD! ONLY TOOK 2 YEARS! THANKS EVERYONE!” Got the most amount of responses he’d ever had with congratulations from lurkers and previous commenters.

Over the course of those two years, Danny learned how to draw his own wiring diagrams, properly solder and weld, and learning to actually plan out his projects so he got it right at least the fifth time instead of the 20th. Not bad for a kid that went straight from graduating high school with a 1.5GPA to construction jobs.

But after finally getting the car approved, Ghostly_Boy returns to the forum with a new problem. Lamenting that his parents keep coming over and “modifying” his car to no longer make it street legal.

At this point, about half of the answers to the submission think it’s either a joke project taken very, very seriously with a good chunk of money behind it, or a kid with parents that have narrowly avoided falling completely down the mad scientist rogue rabbit hole.

After all, what sort of parent would think that the DMV would approve to “anti-ghost missiles” being attached to the outer body of the car? Either way, the submissions always had video attached showing a demonstration, proving that Ghost wasn’t just completely yanking their chain. And a good amount of money would have to be sunken in to not only pay for the fines Ghostly continued to get from the additions to his car, but to actually manufacture and make a unique working product for each plea for help request.

Harold is not only taking notes on some of these defense measures but also decides to bring up the boy to Alfred. Intrigued, they together keep an eye on Ghostly_Boy. Bruce may be their employer, but they can handle a case or two on their own.

- I wanted Danny to try to make smth for himself now that he doesn’t have access to his parent’s lab anymore but he also doesn’t have access to ectoplasm so he’s fairly unfamiliar how to wire things Not for ectoplasmic standards.

Also I wanted to make a prompt where Danny had a good relationship with his parents & went into a fairly realistic job after high school with his fairly bad GPA so he’s saving up for a technical school via construction jobs as he doesn’t like the idea of working fast food for understandable reasons.

#dpxdc #bones writes #i have about 3 dozen ideas for dpxdc ideas to do with Howard #I’m going to be a manufacturing engineer.#i got so many ideas for this dude teaching one of the batkids or a visitor to the batcave about how cad programs work #& why he’s using x material for its purpose #instead of y material #like this dude could just be any of my automation profs

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propertyofwhitney67 · 19 days ago

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What do you think the LI’s search history is like lol

This is amazing

Whitney looks up local factories to see where he can steal cigarettes, porn of course but nowhere near as much since he met you, collars, bdsm collars, scarification, how much does a tattoo cost?, at home hair dye, hair dye stains,

Kylar's is filled with how to make or buy hidden cameras, how to make homemade pepper spray and trank darts, how to permanently delete stuff from the internet, how to safely draw blood yourself, etc.

Robin's is filled with game strategies, guides, and the occasional cheats. Recipes for hot chocolate and lemonade too.

P!Sydney's is filled with specific prayers, the dewey decimal system bc he sometimes forgets, jewelry restoration places to fix his cross necklace, places to fix glasses,

C!Sydney looks up some crazy porn, bondage, sex toys, bdsm, how to be a dom?, how to be a good dom?, AITA?, religious trauma, cult

Alex's is filled with cattle auctions, best breeders (a mistake if you aren't specific), new research on crops, how to deal with pests on a farm, should I set poison traps or food traps for rats?, the almanac, herd health, cattle shoots for sale

Avery searches his own name a lot, bitcoin, crypto, Sam Bankman-Fried, fraud jail time, stocks, car repair shops, how much does it cost to fix a bumper?, how much does it cost to fix a windshield?

Eden doesn't own any electronics and would refuse to use them if you gave him one

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reds-writings · 9 months ago

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the first of many and the start of something new

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: heyyy! another fic in the jealousy, jealousy universe! this is based on the mention of when the reader's left without a car after an accident and rust offers her a lift for the time being. just some more background building between the two and giddy feelings! hope you enjoy!

word count: around 2.8k

warnings: a smidgen of workplace sexism and mentions of reader having longer hair. that and cursing.

Today had been one shit day. Shittiest of shit days you’ve had the displeasure of encountering in a while actually. The power had gone out sometime in the night from some short burst of a storm so your alarm clock had gotten reset, resulting in you waking up nearly an hour later than your usual start time. It also meant that the dryer hadn’t finished drying all your work clothes for the week ahead leaving you to throw on whatever attire you had on the day before from your hamper that was decently wrinkled come this morning. The best you could do for your messy tresses was throw it up haphazardly into a banana clip you rummaged for in one of your bathroom drawers. You barely managed to slap on some blush to look a bit more lively and wipe any remnants of caked mascara from beneath your eyes you hadn’t bothered taking off last night.

God, you were gonna be so late.

You managed to keep a clean attendance record at work, rarely allowing yourself the opportunity to slip-up knowing you’d get chewed out more than anyone else by Quesada just cause. Yanking on your work boots and grabbing some of your gear you nearly managed to eat shit on the way out, not bothering to grab a bite to eat or even scrounge up some coffee. You prayed today was one of those days where Rust carried out his ‘secret’ routine of setting out your coffee before you’d show up to work. Your weathered bronco was low on gas but you’d have just enough to make it to work and hopefully back to whatever gas station nearby on the way home. Peeling out of the driveway like a bat out of hell and settling yourself on the main road your eyes kept flying nervously to the dashboard’s clock. Each ticking minute caused the buzzing anxiety in your gut to sink deeper and deeper.

You checked your frazzled appearance in the rear-view mirror, failing to notice the intersection coming up ahead. Your heart just about leaped into the next state over when you barely managed the time to notice the rapidly closing gap between you and the car stopped in front of you. Slamming on your brakes, your car tires squealed to a stop and your front bumper found itself barely a hairsbreadth away from ramming into the vehicle ahead. Your relief was short-lived when the car behind you, unfortunately, didn’t have enough leeway to break at your sudden halt and collided with your car, causing you then to bump the car in front of you. The force of it had you near-whipping forward like a ragdoll, making you bump your head on the steering wheel. The separate trilling of respective car horns only added to your steady-growing headache.

You could just about cry.

By the time you actually made it the department after the mess that was trading insurances and getting your car towed to whatever repair shop that was in close proximity to the area of the accident you looked like you’d been dragged to hell and back. On top of taking one of the worst bus rides of your life, someone managed to spill their coffee across your lap at a harsh stop. The defeat weighing on your poor bones was apparent to everyone on the floor that took in the sorry state of your figure. You mustered up a mumbled greeting to the receptionist, feet dragging their way towards your desk. The small bruise on your brow throbbed increasingly, especially when that prick Geraci decided he’d make a snide pass at you as you trudged in.

“You’re gonna give folks around here a mean fright walkin’ around lookin’ like that, girl.”

“Do me a favor and go dine on some dick, Geraci.” You snapped without even looking at the now angrily flushing man. Rust and Marty sat in their respective spots, one eyeing you with slight shock and the other with something unreadable as per usual.

“Now just what happened to you, missy?” Marty started in on you as you tossed your stuff down.

Eyeing the anticipated presence of the daisy mug on your desk, you reached for it to take a sip of your awaiting coffee only to grimace at the realization that it was well cold and stale by now. Price of being late. Before you could grumble out a response your other consequence in the form of Quesada barked out your name to order you into his office.

You just couldn’t catch a damn break.

Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly to steady your spiking nerves, you set the mug down harshly before turning on your heel and stalking over to the Major’s office. The door promptly slammed shut behind you both, leaving everyone on the floor frozen for only but a moment before they resumed their individual tasks.

Marty let out a low whistle, shaking his head before turning back to some files, “Guess we should head on out now. She ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

Rust didn’t say a word as he sat fixated on you getting reprimanded to no end by your fuming superior.

The dusky hues of oranges and violets had long since burned in the sky by the time you finished with the deskwork Quesada had relegated to you for being late as well as your snappish attitude aimed at him while he had lectured you. The most grating forty minutes of your life that you’d never have the luxury of getting back. Your spine ached from being hunched over for hours on end and your retinas stung from overused strain. The slow steps of Rust's shoes sounded on the linoleum floors of the department, causing you to glance up and notice that Marty wasn’t by his side. Your gaze flew to the clock to see that it was nearing 7:40, shit, it was time to get going.

You’d have to walk back if there weren’t any other buses in service. Fuck.

“You done for the day?” Rust rasped out as he fiddled with a cigarette.

“Just about. Have half the sense to wanna throw these all over Quesada’s office for him to have to organize his damn self but that won’t do me no good after today.” You leaned back to release a few cracks in your vertebrae.

“Probably not, no.” He eyed your tired form.

“You guys find anything useful today?” You came back forward and got up to collect all your things. Mind busy with hoping and praying there’d still be a bus around this time.

“Just a whole bout of nothin’. At least for right now that’s what it’s seeming like.”

“Bummer. Sorry I got held up and couldn’t come with ya.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A pause. Then,

“Your car ain’t out front.” His acute observation caused your shoulders to slump.

“Yeah. Part of the day's neverendin’ woes. Got into one hell of a fender bender.”

“Reckon that was the causation of that nasty bruise. How’re you gettin’ home?” It came out more as a slight demand than a curious question, making your head snap towards him. Your face was starting to feel hot in embarrassment.

“I was just gonna see if there was a bus or somethin’. Seems Marty rushed on home otherwise I would've wrangled his ass for a ride. I might just have to walk I guess…I dunno.” You shrugged, feeling yourself shrink under his calculating gaze.

“You ain’t walkin.”

Rust grabbed his keys and waited for you to finish fixing up your desk. It took you a second too long to realize he was implying you’d be getting a ride from him. The thought of being with him in his truck alone had you feeling all sorts of funny. You’d never really spent time together one-on-one and you were terrified of acting like some bumbling fool in his presence without Marty there to break the ice.

You wordlessly gathered up the rest of your things and made the move to follow him out of the building. The balmy air did nothing to ease the growing tension you felt in your body. You smiled at him shakily in gratitude as he opened the passenger door for you. Once you’d wobbled your way up into the truck he shut the door then rounded the vehicle to get in on his side. The rumble of the Ford’s engine was the only saving grace of the awkward silence that had settled between you both as he drove the somewhat lengthy distance to your house.

“Thank you. For drivin’ me. You didn’t really have to.” Your unconfident tone broke the quiet. You cringed slightly at how you sounded. Most people didn’t have you as nervous as he did. Whether that be because of the sheer power he carried with him at all times or the sharpness of his personality you didn’t know.

“It wouldn’t necessarily be wise to have you out walkin’ in the dark for some odd amount of miles. I wouldn’t trust anyone around this wasteland to leave you be.”

It did feel silly now thinking you’d be able to make it however many miles out by your lonesome. At night no less. You would’ve been a walking target and then some.

“What happened today? You don’t strike me as the…unorganized type.” Rust continued, gaze flitting over you in slight caution. If you had half the mind you’d be plenty self-conscious to be caught looking this unkempt around him. Your raging exhaustion just so happened to save you from the ridiculous notion as you rubbed your bleary eyes.

“That storm last night had my power go out so my alarm clock was fucked this mornin’. Same is to be said for my dryer that didn’t finish its job with what was supposed to be all my work clothes for the week. Then the accident. Banged up my car pretty good so it’s gotta sit in the shop for God knows how long, they couldn’t give me an estimate. I took the bus then got shit spilled on me. The rest of the sad third act you saw yourself.”

“Can’t say it wasn’t amusin’ seeing Geraci’s punk ass go bright as a tomato.” His chest vibrated with a dry chuckle and it had you feeling even warmer.

“I ain’t ever liked him. Ass kissin’ piece of shit. Likes shittin’ on me every chance he gets just like most around there. I could’ve thrown somethin’ at Quesada’s thick ass skull with the way he spoke to me earlier.” You huffed,

Rust shook his head slightly, “If it’s any consolation he don’t like me much either.”

“For different reasons. You’re more…prickly- forgive me for sayin’. I bust my ass and I ain’t ever gonna be respected like I should.”

“In a place like this, can’t say that’s much of a promised future.” He didn’t seem to take offense to the ‘prickly’ comment.

There was another pocket of silence before you sounded again.

“I’m gonna be honest, if it weren’t for your truck parked outside everday I wouldn’t think you were able to drive.”

His responding look was that of slight incredulity but let you go on anyway, “I’m only sayin’ because anytime you, Marty, and I have to drive out somewhere you never really get behind the wheel. I was convinced you couldn’t operate a vehicle the first month or so in.” You snickered at the ridiculousness of the previous thoughts you'd conjured up involving the man next to you. It was far-fetched that one as serious and experienced as him just couldn’t drive.

“Glad to see how little faith you had in my capabilities.”

“Nawww, it wasn’t like that, don't worry.” You grinned at him.

“It’s my synesthesia mostly. Why I don’t drive. Sometimes it’s too overwhelmin’ to where I don’t always trust myself behind the wheel.” He gave his explanation and you felt that familiar twinge in your chest you’d had been feeling in his presence over the passing weeks. You weren’t too familiar with his condition but from what he’d mentioned here and there it didn’t sound all that pleasant.

“Makes sense. Seems scary to have from what you’ve said.”

“You find yourself getting used to it after a while. I’ve built up the sense of knowing what’s really occurrin’ versus what ain’t.” He sniffed, sounding nonchalant at the confession. It fascinated you just how we went about handling the cards he’d been dealt so far in life. If it were you in his shoes you were sure you would’ve gone AWOL by now. As you pulled up to your address, you felt the sting of disappointment that this had all swiftly found its end. It surprised you at how quickly time flew by during the car ride, realizing this was the most semi-lighthearted and continuous conversation that had ever flowed between you two. It wasn’t much of a chore to listen to him speak as Marty made it out to be. The difference could also be found in the fact you just regarded Rust in a different light than others happened to.

The engine cut and the only sounds offered were that of the cicadas and frogs somewhere out in the lush foliage surrounding your house.

You brushed some hair from out of your face and met his eyes again, “Thanks... again. I appreciate it a lot.”

He just nodded, “What time d’ya usually head out of here in the morning.”

You froze. Was he really offering up himself again? Completely and willingly? For you?

“You don’t have to! I’ll bug Marty about it or see if my sister can help me out-”

“What time?” The finality of it had you even more stunned. It was a disorienting sensation to think that Rust Cohle just might tolerate you more than he did most.

He more than just tolerated you but you didn’t need to know that just yet.

“6:30ish. I can pay you for gas o-or-”

“Just be up and ready to go.” Was all he said and that was it on the matter. After a moment or two, you brought yourself out of your awe and collected your stuff. You opened the door to head out of the truck but not before turning to him and placing a hand on his forearm lightly, the first time you’ve ever acted on any affectionate inclinations in regards to him. He stiffened almost imperceptibly but didn’t jerk away.

“I’m serious. Thank you.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.” Steel blue stayed focused on the windshield ahead.

“That ain’t like me. Coffee or breakfast’s on me tomorrow. Whatever my savior wants he’ll get. It’s the least I could do. My poor legs and I can live to see another day thanks to the benevolent nature of Rustin Cohle-” You were cut off by the scoff of your partner, inciting a small fit of laughter from yourself.

“Sorry, can't keep things too serious. You could use that every once in a while, y’know.” You patted his shoulder before hopping out.

His sights were then set on you as you shut the door and you let yourself bathe in the feeling of it for just a hair longer than you should’ve. Yeah, you were beyond flustered from the day’s events. Hair in a severe state of frizz, bruise having bloomed a bit further along your browbone, and clothes in a state of mess he’d never seen on you before. But it just made you all the more endearing. Especially with that ever-blooming smile of yours. It was becoming more evident that there was little you could do that would have Rust judging or turning you away. He didn’t know what to make of it but he's sure now that he’s offered up himself as your chauffeur for the time being he had to settle with the fate that things wouldn’t be getting any easier for his withered soul.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow mornin’.”

“That you will.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

“G’night, Rust.”

The turn of the engine had the spell you’d been enraptured in dissipating and you stepped away from the truck. He lifted a palm signalling his departure before making his way back down the road and out of sight. A heavy exhale escaped the tightening prison of your chest as your mind swam at the whole interaction. Every little detail about him had you becoming increasingly attached much to your distaste. A cold shower and ridding the smell of his addictive cologne from your memory sounded like more than a good idea right about now. Anything to run these thoughts of your very emotionally unavailable coworker out of the recesses of your brain.

This was going to be a lot of work.

#rust cohle #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #reds-writings #true detective #true detective season 1 #true detective imagine #matthew mcconaughey

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witerh · 5 months ago

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01 HEADCANON! || boyfriend re2r!leon — car mechanic/ sfw

lunch — every day you visited him at work for him with lunch, knowing that he would always forget it early in the morning even with a reminder. Your carefully prepared food has always been praised for your cooking skills, proud of you for such delicious masterpieces.

You pass a warm container with food into his hands, watching as he opens it and the fragrant smell of food hits his nose, and his mouth is already full of drool. He eats casually and hastily, telling you about the differences between halogen headlights and xenon ones. His speech seems to be an endless stream of technical terms that only he can understand. You sit opposite, with a look full of tenderness and tenderness, watching him «purr».

No matter how much time passes, he remains as spontaneous and sincere as on the first day you met.

You reach out with a napkin to clean the food from his lips but his fingers wrap around yours and he does it himself: "You know, your lunches make my job more enjoyable." he quietly tells you kissing your cheek and thanks you for caring about him.

touches — his strong arms will lift you onto thе cold metal bumper while fingers soak into your thighs, gently massaging; he will lean closer to you until you feel his tickling breath on you. With Leon’s clumsy movements, the strap of your dress falls down, exposing your curved shoulder completely for his gaze. The redness on your face cannot be avoided while your hand is in a hurry to correct it, but it made him amuses. A small smirk played on his lips until his nose nuzzled into your neck; fleeting and unnoticeable kisses were left on your collarbones while you sighed and giggled. Lips tenderly press against your delicate skin, which you coat with cream every evening, making it so soft that you want to kiss it forever. A light squeak leaves your lips when he lays you down on the hood of a black BMW that the owner brought for repairs.

"Don't worry, we have plenty of time just for us", he coos for you, pointing with his gaze at the sign that was on the window: «Closed»

dirty clothes — Leon was not one of those who was very bothered by motor oil on the hands, because his white short sleeve tank top was completely saturated with this smell. Sometimes he could sneak up behind you and hug you; caress your waist through your polka dot dress. He was too tactile and he didn’t care whether his hands were dirty or not until you started to sulk at him for such an act.

“Well, it will wash off, princess", he smiled slightly, ignoring your words of anger, grabbing a rag and wiping the dirt from the motor oil off his hands. "Stop being offended, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Every time he promises not to do this, but he forgets to wipe his hands, and you are always angry with him. Again soak the dress in washing powder in hopes and prayers to all the gods that it will wash off.

you and help for him — Tirelessly responsible and immensely passionate, he loved to delve into the depths of automotive mechanisms but sometimes he did not have enough hands for his work. A slight rustling sound came from under the car while he was working on the car that had been delivered recently while you were sitting on a wooden stool. He was a car repair shop worker, he invariably demonstrated his best sides and there should be no mistakes either.

"Princess, there's a tool next to the motor, see, right? Give it to me, please," his outstretched hand closer to you was waiting for the instrument.

bath time — "Princess, can you get me a new towel?" he shouted to you coming out of the bathroom. He didn't care about his naked position; there is not a drop of embarrassment in him. He rubs the back of his head with his hand, having already forgotten in the bathroom that his towel was in the trash because of being a victim of his wiping his hands at his job.

You always thought his muscular and tanned body was cute and now you embarrassedly covered your face with your hands, realizing that he was naked. The light stripes on his shoulders were due to wearing different T-shirts and tank tops. Light steam emanated from his hot body adding a little intimacy to it.

leon and cleanliness in the house — There are no spare parts or wrenches in the house because there is a garage for that. Everything is stored there, even cans of gasoline, just in case.Leon, with the liveliness and attention of a stock analyst, followed changes in gasoline prices, paying more attention to this than to his own well-being, and he did not even pay so much attention to important dates.

"Do you see? I put all the parts in the garage as I promised!”

"You're well done, honey."

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #witerh #headcanon #sfw only #comfort #resident evil 2 #resident 2 remake #re2 leon #leon resident evil

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arcanarix · 3 months ago

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Fated Divergence, Ch. 3 // Yandere! Suguru Geto X Non-Sorcerer Darling

AO3 (+ prev. chapter)

When Satoru examined the parking deck, he sensed a surge of overactivity from low grade curses. Many which he could exorcise himself in practically nanoseconds. He recognized a few—and he knew that Geto had visited here, after all.

Hospitals were already a breeding ground for curses, but there had to be some other trick of Geto’s sleeve. There needn’t any reason to add more chaos here.

When he saw him with you, he wondered what Suguru could want, because on the surface, you didn’t seem like anyone who stood out.

Until he met you the other day, of course, because even he couldn’t deny, he sensed some kind of power dormant within you. Not cursed energy, or anything of the sort… in fact he didn’t have a word for it. The power coming from you felt like a purity, something untouched, untainted even from the horrors you must face as a nurse here and in general as a human being. Perhaps Geto sensed that as well, because above all nothing got the guy’s dick harder than a powerful tool.

Somehow he doubted Geto wanted you for a tool, though; it didn’t seem so.

Maybe not in the traditional sense.

“What’s your game, Suguru?” he mused out loud as he exorcised a demon just before him, one that Geto unleashed himself. He paused, glancing over at a car that he recognized had severe damage to the rear-end of it. Tilting his head, he inched closer.

That didn’t look like damage from a typical accident… upon further inspection, the bumper had some indentations, like something bit it.

…and then he noticed a cursed spirit attached to the roof of the car, inside.

Grumbling, he managed to absorb that one as well.

“Gojo?”

He turned on his heel, and found you, with a dumbfounded expression on your face.

“Uh, yeah, we still don’t know who did that.” You gestured to the damage to your car. “I’m taking it to the shop tomorrow to get it repaired.”

So, it was your car then.

“Ah. Sorry, I guess I let curiosity get the better of me,” Satoru replied, adjusting his blindfold. “You already done for the day?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m just on break.”

Satoru grinned, resting his hand against your car like he owned it. “Oh, yeah? So, what do you do on break? Surely not to chat it up with beautiful men like me?”

Oh, he hoped you bought into the act. He knew how to play it cool when necessary.

You eyed him with a hint of confusion before glancing down at what you held in your hands.

“Hide in my car from people and eat my lunch…”

He glanced at your bento box, and then back at the car, and then back at you, who looked drained as hell from a tough shift that wasn’t even over yet for you. His face fell.

He could take a hint!

Sort of…

“Oh, well then pardon me for intruding on your alone time. I was just exploring.”

“Right,” you remarked, your tone incredulous while taking out a slip of paper and scribbling something down. “If you wanted my number, you could just ask instead of doing all of this extra shit.”

He stared for a moment, a little befuddled. Did he expect more resistance? Maybe a tad.

Well, he did need your number, but not for the reasons you were possibly thinking.

Even if you were beautiful. He knew better than to do anything. Even now, he wasn’t about to meddle in his ex best friend’s love life.

Not unless he had to save you from a gruesome fate—being in Suguru’s radar was already a prescription (heh, he couldn’t help it) for disaster.

He felt a certain responsibility toward you, just like he still felt a responsibility for Suguru. Suguru wasn’t himself anymore by a longshot—even what he preached now didn’t align with what he believed in once before.

It was almost like putting young teenagers on the front lines to do an adult’s job was damaging to a young brain. Now Suguru became a shell of himself, a slave to the negative emotions he consumed from humans.

Realizing he was still staring at you, he adjusted himself. No need to make this situation more awkward for either you or him than it already became.

“Sorry,” he replied with a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his head as he accepted the slip with his free hand. “Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be. You don’t seem like the type of lovely lady who impresses easy.”

You snorted. “You thought correct. I was half expecting you to reject me because you were taking so long to say something.”

“No! Of course not. Who could pass someone like you up?” He waved as he gave you some space. “Well, stay safe, alright?”

Stay safe? Seriously? He berated himself in his mind as he retreated, refraining from wanting to smash his head into something. Wouldn’t that just spike her anxiety up even more…?

-- -- -- -- --

Peaceful sleep didn’t come to you that night.

You woke up in cold sweats, panting as you tried to remember you were safe then. Whatever you dreamed about, it couldn’t hurt you. But what you saw… it felt too real, yet you didn’t want to believe in this spiritual whoo-whoo shit. Not until you had enough evidence, because you weren’t about to fall for this shit.

Still…

It felt like numerous eyes from a monster glared back at you, and while you tried to sleep, it felt like hands roamed all over your body, exploring your most intimate parts.

Sleep paralysis? This didn’t feel like sleep paralysis at all.

But somehow you still didn’t believe in whatever horse shit Suguru Geto and the sort of people he attracted believed in.

You sighed, laying back in bed, pondering your options.

Then incessant buzzing of your phone had you jump in your spot.

At this hour? You glanced at the time on your lock screen. It’s 3AM…

Gojo: Hey. It’s Satoru Gojo. 😎

Oh, right. You’d given him his number. Maybe you were hoping for something to come out of this, but you doubted anything would. You idly wondered what he looked like without his blindfold on—he seemed full of it when it came to his appearance, so he better be able to back up those claims.

Smiling in spite of everything, you texted him back.

You: Hey, Gojo. Can’t sleep?

Gojo: eh, my bedtime’s not for another hour

You did a double take at the time.

You: you sleep at 4AM?

Gojo: and get up at 7 🫡

You: you in the military or something?

Gojo: in a way, but no

Gojo: hey listen, be careful around suguru

You quirked an eyebrow at that. Again with the cryptic bullshit? You had little patience for it but decided not to pry.

You: I don’t really trust the guy anyway?

Gojo: good. He’s more dangerous than you think, alright? If you need anything, call me

You: thanks, gojo

You eventually managed to get some sleep.

You decided you’d endure those nightmarish ghouls for now.

-- -- -- -- --

“Your patient died,” Mei announced as you entered the clinic the next day. The toll last night’s broken sleep took on you was evident—deeper set bags under your eyes, your face looked pale, like you’d just seen explicit horrors you couldn’t describe. Which wasn’t far off.

You glanced up at her, perking an eyebrow.

“Which one? I treat every patient on this floor,” you reminded her.

She froze, unsure of how to approach the matter, clearly.

“The young girl, Asuka Tanaka. The one who was supposed to be discharged today.”

Your eyes widened as the realization dawned on you, and you wanted to deny it.

“She was perfectly healthy!” you reasoned, and you tried to shake off the emotion from your tone, but you couldn’t. Why that little girl and not any of your patients on the verge of dying, anyway? That would have been at least easier news to break to their families, but how would their parents react to their perfectly healthy daughter dying when she was suppsoed to go home?

“We know,” she sighed. “We don’t understand what happened. One of our other nurses found her… and it was…”

“What happened to her?” you demanded.

“We don’t understand. Not fully,” she replied, tone steady and careful. “But it looked like someone came to…”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, unable to listen or even make out what Mei was telling you, but you knew better than to get too emotional in the workplace. You had no choice. You always delivered this type of news to patients and patients’ familiies every damn day, but why did this feel so sudden to you?

“Do her parents already know?” you found yourself asking, as your lower liip quivered. That poor girl was barely 6 years old.

“Yes, they came in this morning to pick her up…”

“Oh God,” you sighed, trying to steel yourself from these emotions. You had a shift to finish first before you could fully process what happened. This was just part of it all, unfortunately.

“We’ll have dinner soon this week, yeah? On me.”

You smiled, having turned off your emotions for now. Came with the profession. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

“So wait,” Mei began, and you paused, becknoning her to continue. “Who was that guy you spoke to the other day?”

“Still so invested in my love life? At a time like this?”

Mei couldn’t help but sigh.

“Listen! Mine is nonexistent so I’m living vicariously through yours. Forgive the abrupt change of topic, but I just wanted to know, and perhaps it’ll serve as a distraction for you too.”

You pursed your lips. Typical Mei, all about the gossip.

“He was just asking me about Crazy Cult Man.”

“Is he a wanted man, or something? Well… in some cases, that’s true,” Mei hummed, “Lots of people joined that cult just because he’s hot.”

You shrugged. “Like Hell if I know. That guy just kept warning me away from him, but it’s not like I’m interested.”

“Damn, if you’re not, do you mind sharing with me?”

You groaned at her antics, rubbing your temples. Way too early for this shit!

“Mei!”

“Can you blame a girl for trying?” she pouted those pretty red lips of hers. If Mei had a little more confidence, she could get any guy she ever wanted.

“You’re impossible.”

She shrugged. “You love me anyway.”

“Alright, you doofus. I’ll see you later.”

You had to put on your big girl pants and finish the rest of this goddamn shift. You had some new patients come in from last night, something about a lot of vomitting and nausea and a whole other plethora of symptoms that didn’t point to anything untreatable, at the very least.

What you didn’t expect to find as some new patients was two twin girls sharing a room, having fallen ill. Those two girls whose caretaker happened to be—

“—Suguru? What a…surprise to see you here.” No, you weren’t all that surprised. But you were surprised to find that he really did take care of twin girls, and it wasn’t just an act.

“Ah, I didn’t think I’d run into you again so soon,” Suguru replied. “It seems that my girls got some food poisoning from that bakery, so we had to take them here.”

Those two girls didn’t look too pleased to be here from their expressions. They looked fearful, but you figured that was expected. Nobody liked being in the hospital, even for something as typical as food poisoning. That and they still seemed young, teenagers at most, and everything about the hospital seemed scary.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you replied, surprised that you could keep an even tone. “The doctor will be here soon, but judging by the severity of the food poisoning, it looks like your girls are going to be here for a few days.”

The twin with the brown hair glanced at Suguru. “That bites…”

“I told you not to eat too many of those Danishes,” he chastisted like a stressed out father would. You would smile at the scene if you didn’t know what sort of person Suguru was. Which you only had an idea, but that was enough to go off of for you.

“They were too good to pass up, Geto!” The other twin, who had blonde hair, replied.

“We’re sorry, Geto,” the blonde twin added.

“It’s alright, Nanako. I just hope you’ve learned your lesson this time around. We can’t keep losing money to things like this.”

Hospital bills definitely aren’t a joke, you mused to yourself. Even for someone as rich as Geto.

“So you already know this person, Geto?”

“Yes, Mimiko. She’s also fond of those Dansihes you both like so much.” It sounded like he was trying to sell them on the idea of you. Suguru glanced at you while he was speaking to his twins, and you felt something churn in your stomach. You swore you wanted to vomit yourself right then; something about his presence overwhelmed you, overstimulated you in the worst way.

He frowned, sensing your discomfort. With an all knowing glint in his eyes, he spoke up.

“Having nightmares lately, my dear?”

You froze.

“How did…?” you trailed off, feearing the answer.

“You look exhausted fighting it off,” he explained. He observed what was around you, the same way Gojo did when you met him. So there were things going on around you? You didn’t believe in this stuff, but if it was going to help you…

“You felt like numerous eyes were looking upon you. You woke up in cold sweats. Do you want me to help?”

You stared blankly at him. “Are you saying you can do something about this?”

“I can put it all to rest. Just leave it to me.” He glanced at the twins. “Watch closely, my loves.”

Within seconds, you felt your exhaustion vanish into thin air as he acted as though he absorbed something from you.

“Let me know if you sleep better tonight.”

You didn’t know how to react.

“Alright. Well, let’s focus on your twins’ recovery.”

You glanced out the door to find the doctor down the hall.

“She’s almost here,” you continued. “I’ll step out for her.”

“I must get going, my loves,” Suguru announced, planting a kiss to the crowns of both of their heads. “Be nice to those treating you. Should everything go well, you’ll be back home by tomorrow at the earliest.”

He followed you out the door as the doctor stepped into that room.

You turned around. “Yes?”

“I’d very much enjoy if you stopped by the temple sometime. The girls are eager to get to know you. I saw it on their faces.”

“Th-that’s very kind of you to offer, Suguru, but—!”

He raised a hand to stop you, and you knew better than to test his patience.

“I insist, darling. I’d love for you to come after the girls feel all better from your clinic’s top-notch treatment. Them getting sick felt like the perfect opportunity to take them here even if I could treat them at home.”

“I don’t recommend that at all. If it was a mild case of food poisoning, then perhaps, but—!”

“—I believe you’re just the nurse here, darling. We’ll see what the doctor orders.”

No man alive was ever allowed to talk to you like that. You swore you felt a nerve snap, but you refrained from showing too much emotion. You doubted you could do much to deter or intimdate him, anyway.

“Might I have your phone for a moment?”

You knew better than to reject him. You offered your phone with a new contact page open for him to enter.

“Thank you, my dear. I sent a text to myself so I got yours as well.” He flashed his own phone.

Fantastic… you thought, biting back a sigh.

“We'll see you tomorrow, then."

“Very well. Until tomorrow, darling.

-- -- -- -- --

The night fell silent. You relaxed in your bed, focusing on your breath work. It was part of a therapy exercise you learned some time ago, something to help calm your nerves and help you sleep.

Something you so desperately needed.

Unfortunately, your quiet time was interrupted by your text message notification.

Groaning, you swiped your phone from the nightstand and saw who it was from.

Gojo: hey, just checking in

You: hey. I could be better for sure

Gojo: what’s up?

You: we lost a young patient today. No more than 6 years old.

Gojo: god, that’s terrible. What happened?

You: no one really knows, honestly.

Gojo began to call. You answered with a defeated sigh.

“Hey. Figured hearing a voice would be better than measly text,” he greeted over the line.

You giggled, your voice dripping in sarcasm. “My hero.”

“Feel free to call me that all you want!”

You giggled again. He was actually kind of funny.

“Are you going to be okay?” His tone seemed genuinely concerned.

“I will be. I’m just so sad for her.”

“You never get used to it, huh? The loss.”

“Not at all,” you replied. “Doesn’t matter what anyone says about professions like these.”

“I can definitely understand. Hey, like I said, I’m a call away.”

“Hey, wait, Gojo…” You bit your lip. Should you say anything at all?

“What’s up?”

“Geto came by the hospital today too.”

A pause. A long, uncomfortable pause. That same churning feeling in your stomach returned. Weren’t you supposed to say something?

“He did?”

“Yeah, his twins got sick with food poisoning,” you explained. “They’re still there.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

Should you keep going?

“He… he kept inviting me to his temple.”

“Don’t go,” he replied a little too quickly. You paused this time. Of course not. Why the hell would you ever want to go there?

“I know,” you assured him, sighing. “But… if he really is as dangerous as you say, what if he tries something?”

“I’m here,” he told you, tone gentle and confident—like he appeared to be. “Don’t worry.”

“You’re laying it on real thick, Gojo,” you found yourself saying while chuckling.

“Hey, I’m just happy to help those in need.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face.

“Thanks for checking on me, Gojo. But enough about me. How are you?”

You spoke on the phone for a bit, before Gojo had to hang up—something urgent with his job came up, he mentioned, and that he would check up on you later in the week. You fell back in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed like a genuine guy, but you doubted anything would escalate.

That night, in spite of the terrible day, you slept like a baby. Completely out like a light. No nightmares, no eyes, no creatures, no cold sweats… nothing. It still didn’t mean you believed in any of this; perhaps it was just coincidence. Nothing beyond that.

You weren’t going to seek Geto’s help for anything.

You knew much, much better than that.

-- -- -- --

“Hello, Nanako, Mimiko,” you greeted the next day when it was time to check their vitals.

“Hello,” Mimiko responded in a robotic tone.

“Are we set to go home yet?” Nanako asked, “Hospital stays are so boring!”

You chuckled, “We’ll see if the doctor says you’re ready to go.”

“Awwww,” Nanako huffed.

“You’re so dramatic, Nanako,” Mimiko quipped, “Geto influences you too much with those theatrics of his.”

“Speaking of, did he come to see you today?”

“He’s on his way,” Mimiko responded with a nod. “Geto looks like he really likes you, ma’am.”

“If Geto likes you then we have to like you,” Nanako piped in with an animated expression. “He has great judge of character.”

“Does he now?” you inquired, but you didn’t expect anyone to answer that—mostly talking to yourself.

“Ah! Hello, my loves,” Suguru waltzed in with some bouquets of flowers. “I have bought these for my girls, and a bouquet for you, my love. You seemed like the daisy type?”

Of course he was right about that.

You accepted the bouquet graciously, never mind the tightness you felt in your chest. “That’s kind of you, Suguru.”

You were definitely planning on tossing those straight in the trash.

You set them aside.

“Have you considered my offer, my dear?” Suguru asked, and you froze. You weren’t looking forward to answering this because you weren’t sure how he would handle rejection. You had to do this… smoothly.

As delicately as possible, like you were handling some fine China.

“I’m afraid there’s no room in my schedule right now to visit any time soon.”

“Ah, that is a shame,” Suguru replied with a click of his tongue. “We’ll work things out, I’m sure. The girls are eager to know you more after you treated them. Isn’t that right, my loves?”

The two twins nodded.

“She’s nice,” Mimiko stated. Suguru petted her head.

“Indeed.”

Using his twins as leverage over you? Oh, that was just diabolical.

Once you took the twin’s vitals, you stepped out of their room with your new bouquet in hand, taking it to your office to dump it into the trash. Your heart pounded out of your chest. At the very least, it didn’t seem likely that Suguru would cause any havoc in this setting. But now he had other means to torment you, and he hadn’t tried just yet.

You feared for the worst—and a part of you feared for your life.

#suguru geto x you #yandere x darling #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #jjk suguru geto #jjk fanfic #suguru geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #yandere x you #yandere x reader #Tuesday 13:11 16 notes #erixtales

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theyellowhedgehog · 2 months ago

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How Tim found out about the secret identity.

PART 2

Reverse Robin + Parallel AU PART 1 HERE

Since there is no blaring clue like the quadruple flip, Tim has his work cut out for him. Bruce is paranoid enough, just add a miniature Bruce. Batman and Batboy became like a true mythical urban legend.

Tim was actually 14 when he found out Bruce was Batman. Damian was 16.

After becoming Batboy, Damian joins the Justice League and works with a team of teenage superheroes like his own. So he rarely comes home or he's gone for a long time. Tim still visits the Manor, he talks with Alfred in tea times, and sometimes accompanies Bruce on golfing. He still has a fascination on vintage cars but he got bored watching the cars in the garage, that is when he took notice of the new Batmobile that was recently caught on news.

14 years old Tim, takes out his best camera and sets out into the night to take photos of the Batmobile.

The Batmobile becomes his newest obsession. One day, on his close up shot of the car he noticed something about the tail light bumper, normally you won't notice, but the company that produces it actually trademarked it.

W.E

Tim starts going into detective mode. This tail light is a model that WE never released. They were not released due to the fact that it doesn't fit the regulation of a proper rare light. Therefore, if someone is using those , Tim deducts that they must be from somewhere higher up. He started digging into the BODs of WE with his limited resources. He ruled out 13 out of 24. But it isn't still not good enough. He mopes around the vintage cars as he was about to give up when he saw Bruce Wayne lay down flat under a car, legs poking out.

"Umm, Mister Wayne..?"

Bruce slips out and greets him, "Oh, hi, Tim! Come to check out the cars again? "

"Yeah," Tim looks at Bruce covered in grease and says, "Bruce, you can call in a mechanic, you don't need to do it by yourself."

Bruce laughs from under the car, "Sometimes, it's better to do it with your own hand, son"

Tim shrugs and sits down. It is then he realised the rear bumper of the car is destroyed.

"How did this happened??" Because Tim know Bruce is not that irresponsible.

"Well, Mr. Smarty Pants Damian thought it would be a good idea to take his friends out on a ride after getting his permit. He's lucky he hit a lamppost or he better expects a lawsuit if otherwise."

"Oh, then maybe this need a proper mechanic to repair that."

Bruce rolls out and looks at him, "Look like we got two of the best here."

This make Tim grins and drops his bag as he starts to inspect the damage. His heart goes to the beautiful Ferrari that got damaged. Fortunately, this is but a dent, the tail light are broken so new ones need to be replaced.

"Bruce, you have extra tail lights?"

Bruce comes and checks," Yeah, it's in that box." Tim brushes some scratches and dirt ignoring the huge dent beside it, and when he got to installing the tail light, he paused. He looked down at his hand when he feels uneven ridges on the tail light.

Tim stares straight ahead in silence and quietly got back to work again.

When Bruce comes out to check how he is doing, Tim looks at him and asks," How did you get the WE tail lights that were never released? "

Bruce lets out a hearty laugh, " Well, I just keep some spare ones because they are quite useful even though they might not meet regulations."

"Can I have one?" Tim asks. And Bruce actually gives him one.

That was clue one. He suspects but never confronts Bruce or Damian.

Clue two was matching the dates of the debut of Batboy and Damian's absent and presence in Gotham and in California.

As well as Bruce absent in Gotham when Batman was spotted in Metropolis.

When Tim realised the dates actually matches up, he just didn't end it there.

Clue three was calculating Batman's height without the boots and cowl, analysing the body structure, he mannerism in pronouncing certain words and consonants.

But Tim has already decided.

Tim decides to live an ignorant life in bliss, as he does not want to be separated from his cars so soon.

Tim after feeling the tail light and Bruce came to him.

#tim drake #reverse robins #dc comics #fanfic #i burnt my braincells for tim's deduction #theyellowhedgehog #Bruce shouldn't be too offguard around tim #batman #batfam

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 9 months ago

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Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 22)

Part 23

Tw: Monty being a creepy lil shit, mans can't take no for an answer, short chaprer

Tell me what y'all think of the series so far i loce reading the comments and anon asks plpplsplps thanks

"(name)-" Yves's eyes were blank when you hung up. He slowly puts his phone down on his desk. He starts disassembling it, pulling the battery out and carelessly tossing it to the side of his laptop. You're not going to call him again.

He drummed his perfectly manicured fingers onto the table. Yves sighed heavily as he massaged his forehead. He extended his hand to grab a luxury bottle out from a metal pail of frosty ice.

He uncorked it and poured his champagne flute full of alcohol. It was filled to the brim, but Yves is skilled enough to pick it up without spilling a drop.

He walked up to the massive, crystal-clear window that allowed him to see the skyline and the city from a bird's eye view. The sky is dark but devoid of clouds. It's picturesque, but its beauty means nothing to Yves now. You aren't here to appreciate it with him and neither will you appreciate it from the pictures he sent.

He stared past his reflection as he sipped on his drink.

In his vast, lavish hotel room, he is the only occupant within it. Yves doesn't see the need to switch all the lights on. Just enough to see, but it made his room rather dim and ominous.

He continued staring out into the distance wordlessly and unblinkingly as he drank from the special glassware.

Silence envelopes him like the deep ocean. He wished that it also engulfed his mind. But alas, a man can only pray to receive such mercy.

The three of you laughed at a joke Evangeline said. She seems to be quite the comedian, her brain spins fast to think of witty sayings and comparisons.

The rain somehow worsened since, stuck in traffic and with nothing to do, you, Evangeline and her father resorted to singing along to songs, albeit off key with cracking voices.

Perhaps Mr. Jones was having a bit too much fun. So much so that he didn't pay attention to the road ahead of him.

You and Evangeline were forcefully jerked forward upon impact of the front to the bumper of someone's car.

Mr. Jones gloved hands were gripping tightly on the steering wheel and his hat is not on his greying head.

He turned to check on his daughter and his client.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked. Evangeline nodded and you did so too. You felt a bit sore where the seatbelt wrapped around your body, but otherwise, you're unharmed.

"Oh no... I hit someone..." Whined Mr. Jones. "I hope they're alright." His voice has much more guilt than fear or annoyance. He quickly pressed the emergency button with the triangles to signal the surrounding cars to move around him.

Among the downpour, you heard a car door slam shut. Followed by incessant knocking on the window at the driver's seat.

Mr. Jones gulped as he rolled down his window.

"Hey, what the fuck!? You just hit me!

"I am so sorry, Sir--"

"It'll cost me an arm and a leg to repair it, my paycheck isn't going to be ready until next week! I can't drive around without my bumper- look! The entire thing is gone!" The stranger with a sickeningly familiar voice but unfamiliar accent ranted at the older male.

"I-I'll give you my details. My deepest apologies sir, I will cover all the damage incurred. I am so sorry for this." Stammered Mr. Jones. He rushed to pull out a pen and a notepad.

"Yeah, you better! Today cannot get any worse." He grumbled to himself. He's standing under the rain, getting more and more drenched by the minute.

The man stuck his head into the car to avoid the pouring rain. But immediately snapped his neck to the back seat.

You and Evangeline had blood drained out of your faces. Montgomery's eyes lit up so bright that you thought he was actually illuminating the car.

"Hi Darlin'! Fancy meetin' you here!" His southern accent returned. You gave him an awkward wave.

"And yer friend too! Hello! Thanks for givin' my sweetheart their lunch." You looked to your friend, she has the most natural and confident smile on her face.

"Glad I could help, Sir."

"What are ya doin' in a fancy car like this?" Montgomery turned to you. "And where are y'all goin'?"

You struggled to answer. You don't know what to do.

It's times like these you wish Yves is here.

"We are going to my house for a little playdate." Evangeline answered for you.

You let out a discrete sigh of relief. But then you considered the possibility of him tailing you three. Your muscles started to tense up again.

"Well, ain't that fun. I'm goin' to the mechanic to get my car fixed 'cause of him!" Montgomery replied with a snark. Mr. Jones apologized once again as he handed Montgomery a piece of paper with his details on it.

"I'm sorry, Sir Montgomery. It was our fault, we were distracting dad and caused him to hit you." You appreciate that she is keeping his attention off you.

"Your daddy, eh?" He looked around the well-kept interior of the car. "Must be nice to be this rich." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"I wouldn't say we are rich. We definitely are comfortable though. I'm grateful to have such privileges and stabilities!" She beamed, you don't know if she's ignoring Montgomery's obvious spite towards her financial status or she's oblivious to it.

Montgomery visibly rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. "(Name), baby!" He addressed you in a sing-song voice.

"Why haven't ya' called? And, I missed ya' to death. Where were ya'? I hope you ain't skippin' school." You stammered and stuttered, you squirm under discomfort. You don't want to be around him any longer.

"Sir Montgomery, I suggest heading to the mechanic soon if you want to make it before it closes." Mr. Jones scribbled on something. "Here. Please accept this." He handed Montgomery a cheque. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Thank you." He stored the cheque somewhere that it wouldn't get too wet.

"As for ya, my sweetheart. What time will ya' be going home? I'll give ya' a lift back." He now stared at you, not caring that droplets of rain dripped down from his eyelashes and into the car.

Evangeline hooked her arms around yours. "They will be staying over. Isn't that right, (name)?"

His facial expression darkened. Montgomery did not like how she was touchy with his partner.

You meekly agreed.

"Well damn. Gimme your number then, sweetheart, I'll call ya."

Since you have two witnesses and you are in a car, you straight up told him no. You said that you're not comfortable with him contacting you and you never agreed to be in a relationship with him.

You thought that would be enough to either send him to a fit of rage or quit.

But instead, he rolled his eyes and huffed. Pretending that this is just a trivial matter.

"Can you cut the hard-to-get act just this once? It's rainin' cats and dogs out here, I wouldn't chase you any less if ya' handed me your phone number. In fact, I'd pursue ya even more!"

Horrified, you looked to Evangeline.

"Sir. (Name) is serious. They're not comfortable with you, they're not in a relationship with you. Please stop, you're being a creep!" She defended you.

"Shut yer' trap! You don't know squat about our love!"

"Don't speak to my daughter like that!" Mr. Jones finally came to her aid.

"What the- You should smack some sense into her! Talking to people like that--"

You interrupted the argument telling him that you are not giving him your phone number or any other information about yourself.

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation and gave up for the time being.

"Fine. You ain't wanna give it to me? I'll find out my damn self, I'll prove how devoted I am to ya'." He grinned and winked at you. Which made you want to vomit.

Evangeline is baffled how Montgomery isn't taking anything except his car bumper seriously. He's barely angry that you humiliatingly rejected him in front of two people, but instead sees it as a couple's game. Just mildly annoyed that you're making him work for your basic information, but otherwise determined and playful about it.

"Mark my words, I will win this challenge and take my prize!" He declared to you. "Have fun at your tea party with goldilocks over there. I'll see you tomorrow, honey."

Montgomery waved and then returned back to his car. The brake lights lit up before he sped off to the nearest mechanic.

You began hyperventilating, which led Mr. Jones to hand you a brown paper bag. Evangeline tried to console you by putting your hair and squeezing your hand.

Why do these things always happen to you?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #oc yves #male yandere oc x reader #oc Montgomery #oc Evangeline

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autocarrepairblogs · 2 years ago

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pwhl-mybeloved · 5 months ago

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Really conflicted about the britta curl situation like from what I’ve seen yes she did do some things that are actively harmful and her apology I can’t say is the best thing I’ve ever seen but also I think the complete amount of hatred isn’t productive and only serves to damage the league. Like sending a mob after someone has never been an effective way of changing their views and from what I can tell there’s like a handful of comments? That she apologized for and Maybe the apology wasn’t the most eloquent but if her actions reflect it over time then I think it’s exceptionally unproductive to continue to hold her to an impossible standard and punish the league for it in the process

Has she apologized ? I haven’t seen that so pls direct me to that bc I’d love to have that info. Apologies and renouncing views are also different things too.

I think apologizing because you dinged someone’s bumper while backing out is an instance when an apology can be wishy washy. An apology for statements made and upheld about the humanity of a population can’t be wishy washy. And I don’t think fans want to hold her to an impossible standard. I think they want someone who is racist and transphobic to not feel super comfy to be loud and proud about those views.

And as for punishing the league, my take on that is the league is a business. Thinking about punishing it in the same terms as punishing a person is kinda a false equivalent? You absolutely can and should use your dollars and fan engagement to hold the league to a certain standard. As a business, it’s the only thing that can work.

Also, I think there’s more to the upset of fans than just ‘Minnesota canned Darwitz and drafted curl 😠’. I think the lack of communication that the league has had with fans about both actions is salt on the wound for two huge missteps by that team.

I think where I’ve come to in this is if holding the league accountable damages the league, then i am ok with that. Damage does not mean it folds tomorrow entirely. Damage can be repaired. What’s that quote ‘if it can be destroyed by the truth than it must be destroyed by the truth’ that’s my energy here.

I think early on in this league is the only true window we have as fans to communicate our expectations. Allowing things to be swept under the rug for the ‘sake of the league’ will only do everyone a disservice in the long run.

This got longer than I meant it to but thank you for your ask, I appreciate that we’re all thinking critically about this!

#pwhl #ask tag

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seat-safety-switch · 9 months ago

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Lots of folks have time to do a job twice, but not enough time to do it right. Me, I don't even want to do it once, so being forced to re-do any work is seriously cutting into time that I could spend instead buying more shitty cars on Craigslist.

So it was recently, when I tried to fix a plastic bumper. In theory, it was simple: slap some hot staples on there, sand it down, fog on some new paint. What I actually ended up with was a totally mismatched blob of paint, highlighting a half-repaired crack in the bumper that you could see from orbit.

Failure has its own virtue, of course. If you're observant, you can learn more from your average everyday fuck-up than you could ever hope to from twenty years of coasting through unlimited success. Through careful study (shrieking at myself in the mirror, throwing wrenches) I was able to determine, Sherlock-like, the exact problem that I had fallen prey to. That demon? Attempting to fix something.

If anything, my repair had made the bumper even worse than it was before. Back then, I could at least still pretend I just hadn't noticed the damage yet, or that I was negligent. Now, I had no excuse. I had to re-do the work. "Buying" all the supplies from a nearby Hobby Lobby and mixing everything back up again hurt. Painting a new car? Awesome cool project. Painting the same car again? Nothing but discouraging. I steeled myself, and set forth to do the best possible job, bringing in everything I had learned.

The second time around, it looked about the same. If there is a moral to be had in this story, it's that you can sometimes just get another bumper from the junkyard. Now, with a cracked junkyard bumper, it once again became the previous owner (of the bumper's) fault for driving into all those posts while zooted out of his mind on Uncle Clark's Miracle Drink. I'm gonna get around to painting it any day now.

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cereusblue · 10 months ago

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https://gofund.me/96bce824

Hi, all. So, I've had a day from hell and I'm too exhausted to re-explain on another platform. But here, I'll copy paste the story here. TLDR at the bottom. If you can't help, pass it on. Literally everything helps. Love you all.

Good day all, thank you for stopping your busy day to check my page.

Let me lay out the situation as best I can.

First off, some background for myself and my family. My fiancee and I only have(had) one functioning car between us when we took in a family member of his in an emergency CPS case. We are trying our hardest to take care of her and teach her how to be a person, but our schedules and only having one vehicle has made that a struggle. She has gotten a job just last week and is working hard to get on her feet. It's great and we are very proud of her! It's part time for the time being while she learns how to manage finances and how the world works.

However, since October things have started taking a turn for the worse. Between my fiancee and I, we both worked minimum wage and in October I bent over to put on a shoe and my back made a horrible crack noise. I went to the ER in immense pain and despite having insurance, I still got dumped with a hefty bill that to this day I am still trying to pay off. I have gone through physical therapy as requested by my doctor, since he didn't want to operate on someone of my age. However, it did nothing but agitate the problem. While I can now move around again, bending over and lifting anything past 15 pounds is strenuous. I'm in pain every single day and even sitting up is difficult most days. I can't stand up for long anymore before it becomes too much on my back. But things continue to happen, as they do. I was set to come back to see my surgeon this year but on Dec 29th in the last hour of the day, my job decided that an AI system could completely take over my job and laid me off. Getting unemployment as well as answers back from my previous work has been very difficult. My benefits were cut off with no chance to refill medications or see my surgeon. So, now my continued treatment to fix my back on top of my other health issues have all been put on pause. I've been working for almost two years now to get treatment and figure out what's wrong with my health, but I am now on a desperate search for a new job.

Which leads us to today. We are already strapped for money, and on a trip to an interview and my fiancee going to work, we got taken down a gravel road that looked deceptively fine. Driving across, the ice was far deeper than it appeared and it destroyed the grill, bumper, and wheel well (I believe that's what it's called) aka part of the frame that covers the front wheels broke and are hanging. That's not where it ends. So, I took the car to get it temporarily fixed so we could hopefully figure something out to get repairs done. The car got a temporary fix, and then I proceeded to take the car to pick up my fiancee from work. He and I began our drive back home, and as we were passing train tracks a doe jumped out into the road way too close to us. She only came into view as she appeared in the lights of the car, immediately getting bodied by the car. As you can see from the image, she destroyed the hood of the car and much more. I feel horrible for the poor thing and I hope she went quickly, noticing the fur and blood on the front bumper. We managed to get the car home, but the check engine light came on. This car is a Toyota prius. Anyone who knows anything about a prius knows they are basically tin cans. So, the worry is that the cooling system is busted now too. This will exponentially increase the amount we need to pay to repair the vehicle.

The worst part is, is that this is the only car we have to go to work and for me to go to interviews. I do have a car, but it's not in running condition right now. The poor thing is a 1999 and needs some parts replaced that we have not had the funds or availability to get a list of parts and have them replaced. The car also can't move anyway right now and would need towed. The prius is our only vehicle we have, and I don't have the funds to drop on fixing it. Insurance won't pay for it as far as we have been made aware by the body shop because of the type of insurance we have.

So, this is the current estimate we have to work with in regards to repairs. The entire front, hood, coolant system, and I know a few more pieces need replaced. The prius can run and be moved to a body shop at least, but paying for it will be a nightmare. If he can't get to work, we are in major trouble. My fiancee, his little sister, and I all rely on this car for work. While I'm still looking for work, I'm very limited because of my current physical state. We've spent a lot of money on my Healthcare already and every day are worried I'm going to reach for something and have my back crack again. While we are working on Medicaid, these things are proving a slow process. They also don't cover previous medical bills when I did have insurance. So, our only choice is to live off his income currently while I'm on a search for a new job every day. Our lives depend on this one car. Especially since we live out in the woods and work is 40 minutes away.

If you've read this far, I appreciate every single second of your time. Every single hand this gofundme goes through will be a huge help. If you can't help, that's okay, please don't stress your own financials if youre in a tough spot. If you can pass this along to anyone you can, that would be more than enough. Thank you again, and I wish you all better fortune this 2024.

For those who can't read the whole thing;

TLDR; Me and my family are already going through a lot of financial troubles with my health and being laid off, our only mode of transportation is severely damaged from an unmaintained roads massive pothole and hitting a deer in the same day. Three people rely on this one vehicle for all our jobs and interviews that are far from home. Donate if you can, if not, please share and thank you so very much.

Also including another picture here for you all to see. Thank you all again, I wish you better fortune this year.

#gofundme #emergency #fundraiser #pls help #idk what else to tag rn im so exhausted

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 3 months ago

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Rewind, Remix, & Replay Jay & Kim 6x2

You can read the rest of the series here

Alright guys, let’s buckle up for the next few chapters. We are in the midst of one of Jay’s spirals. He has gone through a lot and now he has to figure out how to live on without his dad or the closure he needed from him.

I'm not quite sure if I hit the mark with this one- I had some trouble getting what I wanted down on paper. The episode was so emotion driven it was kind of hard to add anything more to it.

Kim's surprise shows on her face when Jay joins her. “Are you working this case?”

“It’s good to see you too.” Kim’s dark brown eyes were worried. Jay dismisses it off hand. “I’m fine. There is a murder out there and it’s my job to catch him- end of story.” Kim gives him a skeptical look. Jay starts walking and Kim falls into step with him.

“No, not end of story. You just lost your dad, Jay. You should take some time-”

“Kim, I don’t need time. I’m all good.” Kim didn’t know who Jay thought he was lying to she had seen how wrecked he was in the hospital. She grabbed his arm forcing him to stop and stand across from her. “C’mon, you know my relationship with my dad wasn’t like that. We weren’t close. We were distant at best, I got used to it.” Jay’s tone bodes no argument but Kim pushes anyway.

“I think you want to believe that. But Jay I was there- You need more-” Jay feels his frustration hit a boil suddenly- the tight control he normally had on his emotions busted and in need of repair. He doesn’t even have time to process the awful words that he slews her way, he just wants her to stop talking.

“Look I know you have daddy issues but don’t project them onto me.” They burn his throat like acid. She doesn’t respond but her face says it all. She had gotten so good at keeping her face unreadable for the job the last few years. But she doesn’t even try to hide them this time. Jay feels it like a punch to the gut. His anger fades and he feels immediate chest heavy guilt. He goes to apologize for his very out-of-pocket comment but doesn’t have a chance because of the sound of gunfire.

Kim takes off without looking back to see if Jay is following. He is right at her back pulling his gun. When they see the girl bleeding from a gunshot wound to her chest. Jay stops and puts pressure on her wound, telling her she is going to be okay. Kim takes off after the shooter.

“You listen to me because it is my job to keep you safe and I will always do my job and you will do yours.” Kim stays back as Voight’s voice carries across the street. She wanted to run to Jay. Touch him and feel his heartbeat. She can see that he is very much alive but still her brain is having trouble believing what her eyes see.

He is shirtless and pale as a ghost sitting on the bumper of the ambulance. She can see the ugly black bruise already taking up most of his peck and growing. The spot where she rested her head to sleep. The spot where he had been shot, only saved by his bulletproof vest. His side was bandaged from where the bullet had gone through luckily missing anything major. Still, Kim feels sick to her stomach.

Voight finishes his conversation with Jay and starts stalking back her way. Kim wants to go to Jay but it is clear that he has something he wants to say to her. “Kim,” She straightens and leans closer. “Take a couple of days off. I want you to watch Halstead.”

“Of course, Sarg.” Kim can see the worry in Hank’s eyes. He nods at her and she starts to walk over to Jay. Voight grabs her wrist and she pauses to look back up at him.

“I don’t want him back until he’s got his head on straight.” Kim hears the seriousness in his tone and nods at him. “You call if you need anything.” He squeezes her arm in support and gestures with a tilt of his head to Halstead.

Kim doesn’t waste any time heading over to him, eating the distances with her hurried strides. Her fingertips ghost over the bruise on his chest without thought. It would be a long time before she would be able to sleep on him. Jay’s hand catches her wrist bringing her hand up to kiss her palm. “Baby, I’m so sorry about what I said. It-” He huffs out a breath his ribs burning as he starts to come down from the adrenaline. “It was completely out of line.”

“You just got shot and that’s what you want to talk about?” Kim had been upset about the comment. It had cut her deeper than she cared to acknowledge. She knew Jay was only lashing out because he was in emotional turmoil. That didn’t excuse his hurtful words, not completely. However, she felt like there were bigger things to talk about considering his injuries.

“It’s important. I want to make sure we are okay. I need to know we are.” His blue eyes were overflowing with emotions, begging for assurance. His grip on her hand was tight. She brought her other hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Jay, we are okay.” Kim watched some of the tension leak out of his body. He was still holding himself stiffly, favoring his one side. His hand wraps around the nape of her neck pulling her closer. For a second, she thought he might be trying to steal a kiss, but he just pressed his forehead against hers. His fingers tighten in her hair. She rubs her hand down his forearm and eases down next to him on the back of the ambulance.

“I just couldn’t help myself. Not after being a bystander to my dad’s… I couldn’t help get him out of the fire. Couldn’t help him in the hospital like Will. I just- I had to do something. I had to get this guy. I had to help.” Kim squeezed his hand thinking of how to respond. She was saved by his abrupt change in topic to something safer. “Did you see how pissed Voight was?”

“You scared him Jay- scared the hell out of me too. He just wants to make sure you are okay.” Kim closed her eyes tightly. Another spike of fear rushed through her system like a shot of adrenaline. The thought of losing Jay had tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” She nods wiping away a tear that had escaped. She licks her dry lips and slowly stands.

“We will figure it all out later. Let’s get you to the hospital to get checked out.” Kim has barely lifted her hand to get Foster’s attention to load him up to get him to Med. Jay grabs her arm to stop her.

“I can’t go back there, I just can’t.” His blue eyes were pleading with her to understand. His grip was tight on her forearm, his jaw clenched, tension returning to his body.

“Jay,”

“I just want to go home. Lay in my own bed- with you- and sleep. Please, baby, don’t ask me to go back there.” Kim knew that she would spend all night worrying about Jay if she didn’t take him to the hospital. She knew she would toss and turn and be constantly checking to make sure he was okay, that he was breathing, and that his heart was beating. But the look in his blue eyes broke her heart. She knew why he didn’t want to go back to the hospital and it wasn’t his hatred of needles. Not this time.

“Let’s get you home then.”

#chicago pd #jay halstead #kim burgess #kim burgess x jay halstead #jay halstead x kim burgess #jay halstead and kim burgess #jaykim #jake x kate #jake and kate #burgstead

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