#Car battery fitting near me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 5 months ago

Text

RIDIN' DIRTY ?!

⋆˚. sum. you never realized how hot your local mechanic was until he had you arched and bent over your hood. spoiler fucking alert, you end up getting a different kind of pipe that’s of course free of charge just for you.

warnings. fem! reader, mechanic toji, unprotected, degradation, oral (f! receiving), spıt, breēding, shotgunning, fuckıng you on the hood, praise, manhandling, pússywhipped toji, size kink, biting, brief fıngering, petnames.

wc. 5.3k

an. ty kali for beta'ing some x

“she’s all done, ma’am,” your mechanic toji murmurs in a gruff voice, yanking back your stick shift before putting it in park. he drove it near the garage of his auto shop, a rounded plump cigarette sticking from the corner of his mouth. with a yawn departing from his lips, he eyes you up and down for a bit before removing his seatbelt. stepping out, he then towers over you by many, many staggering inches. his silhouette alone was intimidating, and you shift your dilated irises away once he cocks his head to your level. “still in pretty good shape. y’er model ain’t that old ‘n i think you should visit every few weeks.”

compressing your thighs together, you bury your purse underneath the pit of your arm. “oh, okay thank you sir,” and as he’s standing—you then take a good glimpse at the man in front of you. he’s handsome, sweaty, and covered in nothing but a slick sheet of grease. the more you gawk, the more you could see a bit of curly chest hair poke out against his skin. his broad chest, his perky pink nipples that poked-

“heh, darlin’ ya don’t gotta be so formal, y’know,” and your eyes darted toward his work cap that was slightly twisted. god, he was so attractive. he inches toward you closer, watching you struggle to keep composure before you think he’s gonna kiss you. so what do you do, you close your eyes. you close your fucking eyes, thinking he was gonna kiss you but instead, he places a hand on the hood of your car. “oh? silly girl, were you expectin’ something?”

“n- no.”

yeah, you were.

it was late at night, midnight, and everyone had clocked out for the day.

everyone except toji. he was a workaholic. you needed a last minute oil change and he was the only available one near by. he was about to close but made an exception. the auto shop has a cooling air surrounding the inside of the garage before you swallow. you can hear your saliva trail its way down your throat as you finally meet direct eye contact with the older man. “cute,” toji murmurs, and he’s not even touching you. he’s not even touching you but it felt like it. despite his teasing, you get hit face first with a strong waft of his scent. his cologne, you knew the exact type he was wearing. cheap, but long lasting against anyone’s nostrils who takes a first whiff. “it’s been a while since y’er last oil change though, i’d be lyin’ if i said i didn’t miss ya.”

with a quirk of a brow, you murmur up at him, deciding why not to play along. you knew he was most likely teasing but still. “you missed … me?”

“sure,” toji removes his baseball cap, fanning it against the sweat glistening off his bulging muscles that poke through his perfectly sculpted body. he was so fit, you couldn’t help but openly leer at his broad, intense figure. with a sly smile, he leans against your car before humming, taking another hit of his cigar. “not too many pretty faces show up ‘round here. besides, i didn’t forget about our little moment last time.”

your breath gets caught in the back of your throat.

he remembered,

he remembered the little incident the two of you shared. when you came for your last oil change and a battery repair, you also ended up sharing a kiss with toji. it was nothing more, nothing less.

but it was hot, having his tongue shoved down your throat with his big rough hands roaming along the sides of your body. being so pressed up against him, you felt yourself longing for more. in your city, toji was the best mechanic for miles. he we well known, quick, precise, and quite flirty.

you brought out the worst in him that day, and it annoyed you how the steamy, sultry kiss got interrupted by his boss. shiu … something, rich raven hair mirroring the same color as his worker.

“oh y- yeah.” you sheepishly mumble, feeling the tension through the air run thick. you loathed desperately how whenever you were around toji, your stammer would make an appearance. you hated it, it was so embarrassing and he ate it up everytime. toji’s sly gaze lowers and he titters at the cute pullover and skirt you wore before your own eyes trail toward his lips.

his lips,

they were naturally crooked — pink, and that damn slanted scar that remained to slash against the right side of his mouth. you peeped a bit of a growing stubble, but nevertheless he was always well trimmed. toji flashed a grin before he got way close to you. kneeling his head down, he whispers toward you. “oh y- yeah,” he mocks your trembling tone, and he was so close that his musk, his body heat radiates off you completely. “somethin’ tellin’ me you came here for more than just an oil change, that right, baby?”

your heart’s pulsing intensifies at his cunning words. always cutting straight to the chase. he’s so up close, his cologne’s just clogging up your nose by now before your thighs squeeze themselves shut. “yes.”

“yes what, darlin’?” and there’s a hint of jibe in his voice. the moment he grabs your chin gently, you’re ready to lose it right there. toji’s wearing mechanic gloves, the soft padded leather pulling down on your bottom lip playfully. with a coy head tilt, he purses your lips a bit more open. “ah, c’mon. use those pretty words, tell me what ya want.”

your legs, the crevices between them were already starting to slick with moisture.

oh, this couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing. as you meet his jade green eyes, you reply with a tone that comes out far more needy than you originally intended. “i want .. i want you, toji.”

there’s a frisky, playful glint in his eye—as well as the tiny crinkle forming at each twist of his facial expressions. “yeah you do,” and his words were pitched deep, so deep that the timbre lingering underneath his tone sends your spine shivers. “more than a kiss? i’ll hafta charge ya extra, heh.”

still . . it was humor in his voice, you knew he was joking but the heat purring between your thighs only grew. your body was screaming at you, it’s been a while since your last time anyway, the last time you’ve been touched.

with a nod, murmuring out a faint little, “more than a kiss, ‘toj,” he snickers, closing the awkward distance between you two finally.

the moment his lips crash against yours, everything feels hot. scorching hot — similar to the sahara, his tongue being the water you needed to cool down. the leftover smoke and booze that lingered on his tongue was strong, the second it glided against your buds it tasted stronger. you could feel his smirk creeping against his lips before with two hands, he lifts you up, propping you to sit on the hood of your car.

it was madly aggressive - teeth clashing, tongues twisting, one taste again and he was addicted.

he made sure to take out his cigarette before hand, squeezing it against his fingers as he’s gradually grinding his hips by you. it’s slow, you could feel his raging boner prod right through his work pants.

it was hard to miss, you couldn’t help but give him a few nosy peeks which he was working on your car to see if he was a packer and he definitely was.

sticky strands of his hair tickle against your forehead as he’s rutting right in you. a free hand makes its way onto your left thigh, slowly dancing his fingers amongst your skin. the moment your legs entrap his slim waist, locking around his torso, he grunts. both lashes were close to touching, breaths were becoming heavy, and you felt his tongue curl around yours. toji was a sloppy yet passionate kisser, and yet— he wanted his tongue to work in other ways.

and it did,

your jaw drops open as you’re laid flat on your back, staring at the man with his face shoved deep between your thighs. toji sprawls open your legs, delving his long tongue inside of your slick entrance to get a sweet taste.

gradually, his tongue dips all around your cunt, creating a little swirl before he feels your body twitch in rapture.

“t- tojiiii,” you whine, feeling a bit paranoid at how anyone could just see the two of you.

sure, you were both in a securely locked garage ( at least you hoped ) —but, anyone could just walk in. walk in and see you having your pussy being devoured by one of the most top known mechanics in the city. if you’d have given a rating on his pussy eating skills, it’d be five stars without question.

he was always so nasty with it— occasionally, with his now bare fingers from removing his gloves, he slides a thumb down your slick.

“look at her, she’s fuckin’ sloppy,” he whispers against your cunt — his warm breath brushes near your folds and you whimper. your voice echoes raw out your throat, ringing through the spacey walls of his garage. this was far better than just an oil change, you were thinking. so so better,

as toji’s still swiping a tongue against your entrance in a circular rotation—nose deep, speaking of nose, it starts to rummage its way against your nub. you gag out a gasp, nearly choking from how out of breath you were with your legs shaking tremendously. with your teeth shattering, he nibbles against your clit, staring you dead in the eyes. “mmf, ‘s fuckin’ good. how generous of you though,” he coos in a gruff tone, easing a single digit inside of your slippery core. “haven’t ate all day ‘n this meal ‘s just what i needed darlin, heh.”

toji’s charisma was simply unmatched.

it was something about him being face first between your legs that made him ten times more attractive.

his hair, it was a bit lengthy but not too much. he grew it out the last time you saw him. a bit of a wolf cut but was neatly trimmed toward his shoulders. it’s rough and unkempt, dark black bangs still running down his eyes. every few seconds, he’s got to whip his head back in vex so his vision isn’t occluded.

“hnnggh, right there toji. pleaseplease.” you babble out in desperate cries, swallowing your own pathetic pity before savoring the honeyed taste.

a whimper rips out of your throat to where it sounds similar to a gargle. his tongue knows just the right spots to reach. your clitoral hood, he loved to suck on it until that cute scream snatches from your esophagus.

“never tasted a girl so sweet ‘n all my years,” he groans, a single finger still shoved inside. it’s stretching you out more and your back arches against the warm hood of your vehicle.

from side to side,

his head moves and shifts and shakes and you’re about to lose it. in fact, you were already losing it, feeling your legs turn into complete mush. jello even, they felt nonexistent thanks to his sloppy tongue.

whilst he’s buried right between your thighs, the mechanic’s got the smuggest grin that you just wanted to wipe right off his face.

toji’s so pent up and aroused—he works a regular six to twelve hour shift, it was almost the same situation for you. he can’t remember the last time he’s been … active, albeit he was exhausted. and yet it seemed as if your precious, slick cunt gave him all the needed battery to fuel his energy right back up.

a husky growl vibrates against your pussy and you whine as a hand combs its way into his hair. in the process, your fingers tangle against his strands. your digits - all five of them stroke through his scalp before giving it a brief tug.

“kinky ‘lil slut, huh,” he grunts, head yanking forward towards your thighs. toji hated the fact that it turned him on. a lot, so much so that his dick twitches in his wrangler rigg jeans. as he’s got you still laid against your parked car, he slurps against your cunt - feeling you pulse right into his mouth. “there’s that cute heartbeat, she wants so much fuckin’ attention today.”

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum,” you moan, his low words only pushing you further to the edge. barred big hands cling against both sides of your thighs. no longer having a finger inside, he firmly grabs your leg.

you’re quavering,

seeing nothing but splotches of snowy white as he’s slurping up your cunt like a hot dish of pasta. “c- cum, fuck ‘m gonna cum, y- your tongue ‘s goodddd.”

with a low hoarsely chortle, he hums. “careful, doll. cum ‘n i’ll have to add a bit of tax to your bill. plus an extra fee for heh, grease.”

you stare at him with a cute confused expression and he snickers. “aw, ‘m joking, don’t gimme that look,” and with warm lips pressing against your cunt, you mewl out a desperate, shrilling whine.

as the seconds go on, you’re steadily being brung to the teetering orgasmic edge. with your hips bucking against his face, he’s grabbing ahold of waist with his tongue exploring the inner caves of your delicious cunt.

your nub, he continues to flick against it, making your body jerk back against the unmoving vehicle. you whimper and whimper before he shoots you a teasing smile, whistling against your folds. “use those words, darlin’. use ‘em ‘n tell me what you want, yeah.”

“wanna cum- wanna c-cum,” you breathe, feeling the shiver in your jaw. even still, you’re wisping fingers into his strands, gripping it tightly before you’re grinding your cunt against his face.

a snail-like trail of your own clear slick runs down his chin. oh, with the way he slowly pulls his head up to smirk at you, you just wanted to kiss him again. your body’s hanging onto its last and final hinges before you’re spasming, feeling him swat a palm against your pussy thrice. “ngh, toji. wanna cum. please, need it. n- need to cum.”

“i’d beg to differ,” he groans, reaching for the hem of his pants - pulling the heavy piece of clothing down. his dick alone had a bit of weight to it and with murky-like irises, you gawk openly.

with a hand going inside of his pants, he lets off a guttural groan, starting to stroke himself off. a few solid pumps and he’s already sucking his teeth at the almost unbearable friction.

“fuck, y- you don’t ‘need’ shit, little girl,” and he’s multitasking. one hand focusing on your thigh and another on his cock. he’s so hard, he’s so fucking hard and the moving you’re doing against his body - the grinding, it doesn’t make it any better. with a mean slap, he spanks your cunt again before spitting near your folds. “you need it, you need ‘ta cum. right darlin’?”

“y- yes,” you hiccup, white noise deafening your ears continuously. the loooooong, sleazy slurps of his tongue makes you rock more into his mouth, nearly pulling out his strands with your rough, hard grip.

the more you tug and pull against his hair, the more it turns him on. his cock throbs whilst a long vein runs through the very side of his shaft. the center of toji’s thumb brushes against his peeling brief foreskin. “need, i need to cum. please.” you correct yourself, in hopes that he’d let you succumb to your nirvana-filled release.

as your fingers continue to fish through his hair, gathering a nice hold, he starts to make out with your folds. the squelches, they were singing out a cacophony of sloppy sounds. you’re sopping wet so good for him to where your cunt’s just voluntarily cascading on his mouth—cascading down his chin.

with ease, you even drench his stubble with your slick - happily. “go ‘head girl,” he grunts, gazing hungrily at the concoction of strings departing. cobwebs of his saliva mixing along with strings of your slick makes him groan. what a mess. a mess and you were the biggest one possible.

once you come undone, everything’s so hazy. your legs jitter in exhilaration, moaning loudly from the intense palpitation. he licks you clean, lapping up your flavorful juices with his tongue before feeling a few spurts of his own cum paint against his palm. “f- fuck, pretty,” he grunts, each stroke against his hard cock making him grind his teeth together. his jaw tightens, realizing he’d just came with you - all from eating you out. you were shaking still, your climax making your vision turn into a rainbow of color. your eyelids, all you saw was a plethora of colorful tints, slowly jerking your hips forward until you couldn’t anymore. as you move, he guides you to ride out your orgasm, ride it out all on his face. “thaaaat’s it, gimme all of y’er taste, mhm.”

it lasts for seconds, seconds that felt like long, never ending hours. with a sweet elongated battle cry of your own that’s in reality replaced with an ear shattering orgasm, you slump back against your vehicle.

“such a good girl,” he murmurs, getting up and it’s a concise soreness in his thighs from bending down for that duration of a time. inhaling a breath of fresh air, he inches toward your face. “heh, you look so dumb,” he teases at your state. indeed you were, his tongue had you feral and craving for more. you were still throbbing, his body heat closing the remaining spacey inches between you both before he grabs your chin. “want a taste, do ya?”

“y- yes,” you nod, your own breathing betraying you with how you struggle to maintain easy, singlular breaths.

toji pops his cigarette back into his mouth before taking a long, deep inhale. the smoke burns, and he aligns his dick up against your drooling slit. he didn’t have to do much moving, the skirt you wore made it easy for him to lift the thin piece of fabric up for access. you glance down, and he was so big.

veiny, a heavy fat cock with an even heavier fat base. as the end of the lit cigarette sticks between his teeth, his brows contorts into a furrow.

toji coos quietly, the mushroom-tip of his dick sweltering inside against your warm heated core. “open wide, babygirl,” he huffs, a thumb peeling down your lip once more. his eye contact had your pussy twitching profusely. it was so intimate, you felt the arising tension reach its peak. not even hesitating, you part your lips open, leaving your mouth open ajar for him. “good. nice ‘n wide for toji,” he refers to himself and you watch with doe eyes as he blows an airy puff of smoke right into your mouth. tepid lips hover against your own, and he’s so close that he can almost smell your longing arousal. you moan at the feeling of his tip easing its way into your cunt, creating squelchy sloshing sounds of acceptance. “there we go baby, nice ‘n easy.” he whispers, and toji finally kisses you.

you moan, feeling his dick breeze its way into your sopping cunt, the stretch already presenting itself toward your walls. it’s a tight stretch and you moan, throbbing from the way you’re opening up for him. as the friction sets against your twitching muscle, you whine, running your tongue down his to taste the brewing variations of saliva and smoke into your mouth. it’s so sloppy, his tongue game was just improperly risqué.

fithly, coarse..

with your ass sitting directly on the cool running hood of your vehicle, he’s continuing to drive his dick straight into you.

you moan as his lips attack against yours, savoring your candied flavor. it was something about you that he couldn’t get enough of. toji’s body - it was broad and big. as he towers over your frame, he starts to thrust a bit forward.

“ughh,” he bites down on your lip, dark mean eyes meeting yours as he then opens them.

the stretch had you gasping for air once his lips shortly break away. already, you missed them. he sees the pout and he chuckles before his head tosses itself back. as his lips pull away, strands of spit abruptly leave, saying its goodbyes to each mouth. “so fuckin’ — shit.” he swears, so lost in your swallowing walls that he forgets his initial sentence.

already, his eyes were starting to flicker back.

rolling back,

it was sexy to witness, especially up close. toji’s cock dives into your cunt further and further before finally, he bottoms out. once he’s reached the hilt - the very hilt, you whine, throwing your arms over his tense shoulders carelessly.

“fuck me, f- fuck me, toji. please.” you stammer out in pathetic babbles, the repetitive twitch in your pussy making him all the more harder. your pleas almost fall on deaf ears before you feel the veins pulse down his cock. it spasms inside you and if you weren’t as wet before, you were certainly wet now.

he’s just so hard, your walls grip and envelope around his length as you bite on his shoulder.

“didn’t know we’re on bitin’ terms now, heh,” he attempts to joke, one hand gently squeezing onto your waist. his touch, you never failed to lean into his touch. with a needy gasp, his hefty dick tucks its way into the insides of your cunt. your goopy walls squelch and squelch, shrieking out a lewd harmony of wails. you’re so wet - already, his base starts to get painted from your slick. you moan, licking a stripe near the crook up neck. he snickers, feeling the moisture of your tongue collide against his skin. “jus’ so fuckin’ hot,” he gruffs, staring at your already fucked dumb expression. “mhm, such a nasty girl. havin’ me fuck ya on y’er car.”

he’s stretching you out so good, its as if your cunt was a gymnast — easily bending and breaking, stretching in and out. toji’s dick was fat - the foreskin that’s glued against his tip stimulates the insides of your wet core. you whine once more, clinging onto his beefy body as he’s fucking you on the hood.

pitiful babbles of mercy whisper in his ears, your ankles and heels brushing alongside the red lines of his back. toji was sweating a lot more from the constant moving — you, your body jolting up against your car and his sharp, deadly hits going in and out of you. each piston has you weak, stupid even.

despite his mechanic scented musk with a sprinkle of inexpensive cologne, it was still alluring to you. you throbbed as he continued to jerk his hips against the same spot. your toes, all five of them on both feet curl in awe before you start to spasm.

“y- yes, please. right there, right there tojiiii.” and you probably sounded so pathetic but you could care less. your face was all scrunched up and twisting in blissful pleasure as he’s plunging into you at full force. his rhythm, his pace . . it was ruthless.

safe to say, you were addicted.

cock drunk, easy - just like that. with a secure grip still on your hip, he’s reeling you back with such ease. strands of saliva starts to pour out from the side corners of your mouth and he slyly smiles. “oh, you just wanna be a messy customer today, huh. such a mess,” and with a flick of his thumb, he swipes your spit clean. he does this only to pop the same finger into his mouth, relishing in your glacé, syrupy taste. “so sweet, ‘m gonna need more though.”

your knees embarrassingly buckle. your weeping cunt sobs for more and more as his mean, degrading thrusts is just leaving you utterly dumbfounded. your mouth was open, tiny little pants of air escaping out into the form of a mere croak. toji’s weighty dick thoroughly plummets into your insides with all of his might to where you’re already visibly stupid.

each mocking thrust makes your stomach churn. he’s so deep, his tip located in every area. you’re stretched, worn thin, and the minute his cockhead greets your cervix with a french kiss, you shriek sweetly.

“oh my g- goddd, there please, toji, tojiiii,” and you were just babbling out anything at this point.

it was adorable, every few seconds, the mechanic had to swipe the back of his hand against his forehead. the remaining few droplets of perspiration that resided underneath his bangs was a lot. as beads of sweat race down his face, sable irises meeting your dumbed down state and you moan, nails now clawing into his shoulders. “f- fuck, ‘s good. ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“big just for you, baby,” he groans against your ear - the fat of his balls mashing against your entrance making you dizzy. you’re about to break again, the smell in the air was almost potent.

with his cologne, the mixture of his sweat, and the burning hot gas fumes of your car, you felt like you were floating. your cunt was being stuffed with delirious inches of cock and you wouldn’t have it any other way. toji grabs your chin, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth before his tempo accelerates. “shittt, grippin’ on me so good, ‘m gonna cum, darlin’.”

at his throaty words, you meet his eyes before burying your face into his neck for about the nth time again. the only words he could hear you whine into his neck was, “inside, inside me, ‘toj.”

“so y’er a creampieee kinda girl,” he sneers in amusement - watching as you’re slowly being taken to your inevitable rapturous rapture.

you’re whimpering, taking in each of his deep, pivotal strokes. toji brings his hands toward your waistline, skimming his fingertips against the curvature before nibbling on your earlobe. “careful, sweets... ‘s gonna be a nice big load. can ya be a good girl ‘n take that much? don’t wanna give ya too much of a full, heh.”

if it wasn’t for his puns — you’d smack him, but you were too cock drunk to think, let alone comprehend.

“i can take it,” you nod desperately, a cute tremor in your voice as you’re making haste with your own hips against his. everything’s so sharp. “fuck, f- fuck me, right there.”

toji found it cute how repetitive your sweet nothings were - the same endless chatter flowing past your lips. “yeahhh.” he jibes, although his words were in the form of a question. you grab against his wrist while your slippery soaked cunt braces for the parching, hot fill.

three thrusts,

three slow deep thrusts and he was at his peak. leisurely, as toji’s cock deeply into the pits of you, almost reaching your tummy - you feel a few hot spurts shoot into you raw. toji groans, his voice echoing through the garage. he was whipped. your expression was so cute, hooded droopy eyes and an abashed little grin.

his swollen fat tip was downright rude with the way it scrapes against your pussy, thrashing all inside as if it knows the place.

it’s so much, colossal big hands of his grab onto your thigh, and he leans in to gently pierce his teeth into your skin. sucking against your tender flesh, like honey—like nectar, he grunts his own gruff climax into your shoulder.

his voice was low - his adam’s apple bobs at his actions, feeling an unforeseeable wave crash over him at once. it’s intense and he’s just eating up your delicious fervor that was right in front of him.

“t- toji,” you breathe, your arms still slung over his shoulders. easily, he’s jerking away from attentions.

toji wasn’t fully thrusting anymore, but he still had a decent pace of pumps. his fresh, warm cum emits into your cunt like how a volcano erupts. gushing into you, it’s hot and thick like lava, warm and sticky like magma.

you were chasing your breaths but failed to surpass them in the fictitious lewd race. it’s so hot inside, you were almost positive a few slimy spurts of toji’s cum exudes up on the hood of your car. you’ve never felt so full, his chest heaves and yours deflates in harmony.

with both bodies were in sync and casual harmony, he grunts before leaning in to kiss you. his now flaccid dick was just idly inside of your swollen, greedy cunt. throbbing even still, you rub the backs of your ankles behind his slim waist before tilting your head back. the kiss was far more passionate this time.

if you knew mechanics fucked this good, maybe, just maybe you’d come for an oil change more often.

except, toji didn’t just add the new oil into the engine of your car, he added his own new oil into your sopping, drenched cunt.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, feverish breaths titillating against the inner areas of your neck.

you pulse from any movement he makes, clinging onto him tightly like a koala. he has a flashy half girn, slowly pulling out his dick to see the mess. your cunt was overflowed to the max - so much cum, so so much.

toji licks his lips, the tip of it grazing against his fleshed scar as he peers at your pussy’s opening. the way your entrance slowly spitting out his thick, velvety ropes of cum due to its fullness makes him grunt.

inside, it was lukewarm—oozing out of your entrance before you lean back against your hood. “mhm, ‘s still pourin’ out. guess i was so pent up from today, barely had any time to jerk off.”

“i didn’t have to know that.” you huff at his teasing, trying to catch your breaths. your full lungs felt like they were about to collapse.

toji helps you off your car - although, he wanted more and so did you. surprisingly, he even cleans the hood off for you. as you’re back on your feet, sore and all, he asks for your number. “you’re gonna ask me out or something?”

“maybe, hold still darlin,” and your interest peaked, wondering why he wanted you to be still.

you turn, heaving a bit of shifting before toji bends down. you shudder a bit, feeling what feels like a cold marker starting to drag and scrape down against the right cheek of your ass. you could hear low, raspy laughter as he’s writing on your rear. with a pout, you wait as he’s continuing to write what you assume to be his number onto your skin with a sharpie.

the smell smolders against your nose quickly before he finishes, popping the black cap into his mouth. “there, call me after the hours of,” and he pauses, glancing at his watch. “hm, eleven pm.”

“thank you….” you murmur, that simple action making you throb again before your eye twitches. you make your way towards your car and then you feel a breeze through your legs. eyes widening, you turn towards the mechanic. “um- my panties? i kind of need them.”

with a sly grin, he pulls his work jeans back up before humming. “um, you kind of don’t,” he mocks your sentence, and you almost moan at the feeling of his hand squeezing your ass. toji then spanks it, the sharpie marker of his number imprinted on your skin slightly smearing against his palm.

“darlin, consider y’er panties as payment. ‘s on the house,” and you gulp, meeting his viridescent, green eyes. he looked hungry for more - that natural smirk compressing against his lips never once fading. toji brushes a thumb against your cheek before leaning against your car. “come back anytime for a fill.”

he hums cheekily at you through the mirror, closing your car door once you get in, starting the ignition. with your panties in hand, he shoots you a nod. “i’ll make it extra creamy next time. no charge, baby.”

13K notes · View notes

eupheme · 2 months ago

Text

— from eden

old man logan x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 5k

tags: Logan timeline, sorta divergent/fix-it fic, angst, hurt/comfort, everyone is going through it, wound tending, dark thoughts/references to violence/death (aligning with themes in the movie), neurodegenerative disorders (Charles), multiple pov, established relationship, shower sex, oral sex, PiV, feelings

a/n: still on my druid!mutant kick - reader absorbs the sun via photosynthesis and can transfer that energy to grow plants. no features described but small details & a codename are noted in reference to her mutation.

Every day you wish you could do more. More for Charles. More for him. But the harsh sun eats away at you. You weren’t built for this heat.

You were meant for gardens. For Eden.

But you think… as your fingers trail through the earth, your life force flowing down into the greenery below - if something can grow here, in the desert - then maybe, so can hope.

Logan finds you in the garden.

It's generous to call it that. Carved out with old bits of metal, used like a spade. Scraping through dirt, packed and hard from the burning sun. Dust swirling around you - catching under your nails that are as tough as bark.

The only bit of green for a couple miles, at least. Incongruous to the climate - all you can see is desert around you.

It's only you that keeps it alive.

Your hands pass over each stalk and stem. The low thrum that used to come so easily, siphoning your life force to the roots below, comes slowly now.

Used to be able to make things bloom, just by feeling.

A garden had sprouted your first night together. Blooming lush - vines twining around the bookshelves. Wildflowers in your hair. Moss spreading out across the wooden floor, out and into the mansion.

Everyone had known you were in love.

It feels so long ago now. Another lifetime.

Now you can only tend them. You’re at your strongest in the rain, but it’s day twenty-three of sunny, blue skies. No more than a wisp of a cloud on the horizon.

It leaves you wilting. A half-broken lawn chair, dragged to face the packed-dirt road. Watching for him, as your face tips up to the sky. A slowly-recharging battery, one that hasn't been full in years.

But the sun is unforgiving. The tips of your fingers and toes darken - it's too much.

And not enough.

An eye cracks open, with the slam of a car door. There's a limp to his gait - a hand braced against the limo. Something you notice immediately. The way it takes him longer than usual to reach you.

That severe frown softening at the edges, but still holding a weight he's carried for years. A brown bag held out silently, the top crumpled from his fist.

Your fingers brush his, and you know he can see the burn. The mark between his eyebrows deepens.

"Don't push too hard, blossom," Logan rasps, "'Bout time to go in."

It makes your jaw grit, as you bristle.

You want to protest. Ask him "well, what in the hell do you think you're doing/?" He's the last person that should be lecturing you, as he shifts - a crimson glint of red near his collar.

But you don't. He doesn't mean it that way.

It comes out wrong, you've learned that by now. Misplaced anger - seeping into your roots like poison. Loving him so fiercely that it aches, to see him this way.

The Logan you knew and loved changed that day at the mansion.

"I will." You tamp the feelings down, burying them with the rest, "Let me get these started, and I'll be in."

He lingers, for a long moment.

You rip the seed packets open, scattering them across the earth you've prepared. Essentials, fit to feed Charles.

Carrots, beans, tomatoes, onions. Kale and fresh berries.

A packet of wildflowers.

There's a lump, lodged in your throat. You look over your shoulder, just as he disappears inside.

An inhaled breath, as you begin.

He knows you hate it, all the dust. The heat.

Knows you stay, for him.

Logan always was your sun.

"He's bleedin' again." It's muttered out, in greeting.

Caliban's eyes flick towards the back door, "Don't know if I've got enough peroxide to get it out."

Your smile is weary, "We'll figure it out. Always do."

A fine pair the two of you make. Only the mornings and evenings spent together, in your slow rotation of work-Charles-eat-sleep, and always just out of sync.

He tends to the smelting plant. An attempt at keeping things in place, keeping things running. Something simmering on the makeshift stove, as you empty your apron into the sink.

Outside is your domain - days spent with wind-whipped skin. The desert heat surrounding you.

"Could use some potatoes," Caliban offers, without thinking.

Peeling back the husk and silk on an ear of corn, fished out. Peering down at the kernels beneath - still hesitating, even though it's clean.

Your arms cross over your chest, head tilting, "Well, you're welcome to ask him."

It all comes out hushed, even though you know Logan is out with Charles. He gives shoots a reproachful look your way - he's already taken an earful. Doesn't need another from you.

He's been with you both for a year now. A second set of hands, as the seizures worses. You hadn’t wanted to admit you needed help - but Logan had saw right through you.

Charles’s space feels like a tomb.

Each minute you spend in that dome makes you crave another five outside. Too much for you to handle alone - something that still eats away at you.

Never felt like you were doing enough.

Carried the others with you, as he did. The shame of feeling like you should've done more. That you should have been there with them.

Buried beneath the rose bush that bloomed, when you had first told Logan you loved him.

You had thought that he had been. Had spent two years adrift, so certain he had been lost. That adamantium had not been enough to suppress the force of the seizures - that it ripped through the metal and took him from you.

It's why you cling now. Worried. Seeing how each day changes him, like it does you.

It's why you grow the vegetables for them. Even then, it's not enough. The suppressants they released still worked its way into the water and soil. You'd already ingested enough food to have it affect you.

Used to eat for fun, for pleasure. Haven't had a bite in two years now. Haven't needed to, haven't wanted to. Looking to the sun instead, even if it burns.

Now, you're just maintaining. Trying not to worsen, trying your best to keep them afloat, even if it costs you.

"Sorry." You mutter.

Easing into the routine of ladling out bowls. Chunks of half-stale bread, from the last time he baked. Hadn't harvested as much wheat this season as you would have liked. Pests chewing up a portion before you noticed.

The drought makes you hazy. Running on fumes for a while now. Same as all the rest.

Two bowls set on a plastic tray. A glass of tepid water in a chipped mason jar tucked in the crook of your arm. Fingers swirling in the liquid to cool them, before you're tilting it back - taking a swallow. Just managing to ease your parched throat.

"How is he?" You ask.

Caliban's eyes are slow to meet yours. He looks at you like he knows something you don't. Few secrets between you, except ones like these that he keeps deep. It always sends a twist in your belly.

Curling vines, weaving between your ribs.

"Logan or Charles, dearest?"

"Both." You sigh, "Either."

“Logan is… well. You saw him.” Caliban mutters. His nose twitches. A breath - as if he means to say something.

He falls silent instead, pivoting, “And Charles still thinks he's in Macbeth."

It makes your heart lurch, how so kind and sound a mind had changed. Not his fault and it only makes you love him more, after everything.

“Been asking about someone named Erik lately, too.”

You and Logan had agreed. It was better that Charles didn’t know, if he didn’t have to. That the two of you would bear it - shielding him like he had shielded so many for years.

But it never made the memories any easier.

His head inclines towards the trays, "You want me to take those out?"

Caliban knows you hate it.

You know the sun is still setting, sitting golden on the horizon.

A shake of your head, as the tray tucks under your arm.

“Thanks, Cal. I've got it."

The music comes first - 60s-era jazz, floating through the opened door. Voices come after, as you step into the shadows.

“-sorrow words, the grief that does not speak," Charles's reciting pitches louder, as his chair wheels in front of you, "Knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break-”

Logan stalks after, reaching for the controls.

"Enough."

"Thrice the brinded cat-"

The tray clatters on the top of an old desk. You step in front of them, arms spread wide, "Charles."

The chair halts, going still.

Something scrapes at your brain, when his hazy eyes meet yours. Fingers sifting through files. A dealer skillful hands, l shuffling through cards - snapping them back into place.

Plucking old memories from you like weeds. Dragging them to the surface, long buried.

He doesn’t mean to.

Doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

Your breath coming in a ragged gasp, eyes meeting Logan's. He doesn't need Charles powers to know what you're thinking.

Afraid that he'll see. What he’ll remember.

"Come on." Logan is hoisting him out of his chair. A grunt as he struggles, near dead-weight in his arms, “Enough poking around.”

Depositing Charles in his hospital bed, the last golden rays of sun streaking across the worn blankets. Logan just starts to move away, when a hand fists in his dark tie, dragging him close.

"You're not listening to me. No one listens to me." The words almost seem lucid, with how sharp his eyes suddenly shine, "Liberty, Logan. They're waiting for you. Eden-“

"No one is waiting for me." It's barked out.

Uneasy, tipping towards harsh.

Logan's patience has always ran thinner than a knife’s blade. It's love that keeps him here, you know that as well as you know your own name.

You have to step between them to break the connection. Hand wrapping around Charles' wrists - soothing, easing them down into his lap - as Logan fishes a bottle out of his pocket.

Slipping a needle into his arm. It's fluid, how you move together. Easier to help him together, then when you're alone.

It soothes the seizures. Thoughts slipping between his fingers, as he settles. The anger with it, as you bring dinner over to them. Your hand extended to take the pills that Logan shakes from a bottle.

"Take these, Professor." You coax, handing over a stained mug from the attached tray.

The chalky pills disappear, with the tilt of his head and a swallow of weak tea. Only then does it feel like you breathe. Letting your fingers drift across the makeshift herb garden he has sitting on the desk, something you tend together.

Eyes closing, as you concentrate. Pink petals blooming, plucked from the stem, and placed in Charles' open palm.

Logan's gaze a heavy weight - too tired from the day - you could already hear it in his voice. In the slow shift of his weight, as he eats.

"Only one?" The wizened fingers close like a cage around the flower, "You’ll have to work harder, Crescere."

The name is one that you haven't heard in years. It ricochets through you like a bullet, threatening to rip you open. You must show it in your face - a hand reaches to smooth down your back.

It soothes you, until an edge creeps into Charles's voice.

"If you cannot do more, how will you ever survive without soil?"

Logan goes stiff at the words. Breaking contact as if he'd been burned. A rough tilt of his head, as he pushes himself up.

“I’ll be inside.” It’s gritted out, through clenched teeth.

Leaving you alone, perched on the edge of Charles’s bed.

His mood already shifting, as it often did. The anger and confusion flaring. Melding with the medication that slows his tongue, dulls his thoughts.

“Crescere,” His eyes fix on you, while you watch the door creak shut. The moonlight has just started to stream in now, and it's just dark enough to imagine a breeze, “Have I told you about Eden?”

You tuck him in. The worn quilt tugged up high against his chest. A fingers smooth down to wrap in his - his hands frail with age, but his grip is still strong.

Tears prick your eyes, but you smile - your hand gently squeezing.

“Tell me again.”

His fingers fumble with the buttons. The black tie tugged loose, hanging against his chest. A hiss of breath, as sore shoulders roll. The dress shirt caught against his bicep, the sleeves still pushed up around his elbows.

There’s a hand against his shoulder. Your fingers slipping beneath the fabric, easing it down his arms.

“You gonna stop running from me?”

It’s soft, in the room that you share. A far cry from the mansion - all cozy, stained wood. Home.

Here, it’s sheet metal. Car batteries running a broken coffee maker, blankets stained with sweat. An industrial fan, slowly spinning where it’s mounted into the wall.

Wasn’t trying to run.

Just couldn’t shoulder your hurt, knowing he caused it himself. Knows that the heat eats away at you. Has watched how you struggle, though you hide it so well.

And the open seas - the sun and the salt water - would it be enough? Could you ever be happy, away in a place like that?

You’ve told him all you need is him. But pretty thing like you should be somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

Knew he was too old for you, even back at the mansion - and that was when his hair was just starting to grey at the temples.

Now, he wishes he could convince you to go. Even if he couldn’t live without you.

But he knows your answer. That set of your jaw. Rooting you in place, unmoving.

It flickers in you here, as your arms wrap around him. Nose buried against the nape of his neck, as he exhales a breath that he’s held all day.

His muscles going lax as he leans into your embrace - letting you move him. Touch gentle as you guide him towards the bathroom. Fitting between spread thighs as he leans against the cracked counter, your fingers tracing the red-stained rips on the white tank beneath.

A cloth, wrapped tightly around his fist.

“Running to you,” Logan husks, “Just lost my way.”

You soften before his eyes.

Unwinding the wrappings to check the wound across his palm. Your lips pressed against scar tissue. Moving to backs of his knuckles, between the angry red slits.

Something in his chest lurches. Calming the beast, as his palm cups your cheek. Letting you lead him into the old ceramic tub, even though the space was narrow.

Lets you strip him down, knowing your eyes flicker over each scar. Looking for ones you missed, though you know them all.

Already knows what you’re going to say, when your gaze catches on the still-healing wound - a bullet beneath his collarbone. In his chest, through his bicep.

“Can’t keep taking hits, baby.” You fingers trace just shy of the wounds. Blood flaking, where he hadn’t washed well enough - two days spent in a shitty motel, each one thinking of you.

Need to shield yourself. Pick your battles.

He’s heard it all before.

Tried to earlier - wanted to gut the Alkali-Transigen fucker who had climbed into his limo. He is trying, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

All he got was a business card burning a hole in his pocket. A lie of omission like a lead weight in his belly.

Another tucked against his chest - the bullet nestled in the pocket of his shirt. Resting against his heart while he drives. Hidden, when he returns home.

It’s insurance - but it would still crush you to find it.

“I’ll ease up when you do.” He counters, though his voice softens, “Pushing too hard, sweetheart. We could stand to eat less, if you need a break.”

You sigh, as you lean into him. Face muffled against his chest, and he only just catches the words.

“When I used to imagine playing house with you,” You breathe, “I always thought it would be a little different.”

It makes his heart jolt.

Something tearing inside him, as his mouth presses against yours. A hand searching to turn the handle - the water stale. A weak spray that only reaches room temperature.

But it’s enough.

You wash the red from him. Swirling down the drain as you coat the washcloth with a sliver of soap. Careful in your movements, as your hair dampens.

As his hands catch at your hips, looking for an anchor.

A little huff when you fingers twirl - when he has to let go, to turn around. Soaping up his back, fingers raking through his hair.

The stress of the day sluices from him. Melts away as your lips press against his back, trailing across his shoulders. Nails tracing against his abdomen, as he leans into your touch.

It’s always been softer than he deserved.

And when your hand drifts lower, swirling soap against the dark trail of hair that leads down, he guides your hand the rest of the way.

A throb, at the soft inhale of your breath. Fingers that close around him, coaxing him to full hardness. His own scrape against the tile, as he props himself up.

Eyes half-lidded, as you nuzzle against his scars. Fist working him from root to tip - he can’t resist bucking into your touch.

His own hand wandering. Hesitant.

Afraid he won’t find you the same.

Reaching behind him, feeling the stretch of healing muscle and sinew as he cups the curve of your ass. A held breath loosened, when he hears the needy sound you make, when his fingers slip to trace between.

Teasing, drifting down to where you’re slick. Honeyed.

Always for him. Only for him.

His eyes fully shut now, as his fingers work inside you. Feeling the clench, the way your hand stutters.

Your breathing turning harsh, panting. His name whined out as your hand dips to cup him - the pressure coiling low in his belly. Hips nudging against his as he pets at your clit, smearing your skin with your need.

Turning, when he isn’t able to take it any longer. Always would be strong enough to do this - to hitch your thigh around his hip.

Lifting you enough to rub his flushed cock against your folds. Your nails biting red marks into his shoulders as he lines himself up-

The water cuts off.

The evenings rations depleted.

Your laugh is more of a whine than anything, but it’s still a sound he treasures.

His own lips curving, and it feels like the first time in days.

The words rasps out, coated with need.

“Let me take you to bed, honey.”

His skin is still damp when he lays you down.

Nestling you against the pillows - ignoring your soft protests of needing to take care of him, as he seeks out the honey between your thigh. Hands tracing up your leg, calf to knee. Up against smooth skin, until he can hitch one over his shoulder.

Letting him bury himself deeper. Tonguing at your clit. Down to dip inside you, a rough groan against your skin as his hips rut into the mattress.

He had you close already. You always unfurled for him, and that hadn’t lessened with his age. Automatic, in the way his fingers fit inside you, finding the spot that has your back arching as you cry out.

Stroking against it again and again, a groan caught in his throat as your fingers twist into his hair and tug.

Logan’s name a soft cry as he tastes you sweeten against his tongue. The tight pulse around his fingers, echoing where his lips shift to suck against your clit.

It’s only when you reach for his wrist does he stop, content to spent the night right here if you’d let him - make up for the time spent away.

Only then does he relent. His arm stretching out behind the pillows as he finally lays back, the tug of a smile as he watches you.

There’s a sweetness about you - all limp-limbed as your thigh lifts across his waist. Straddling him, as you lean - tugging supplies out of the end table.

Squirming, as his head lifts - unable to help mouthing at your breasts. A heady throb down low when he can feel your heart kick up a notch.

Always doing things out of order.

Each shift of your hips rubs your pussy against his cock. Slick and wet and warm, and he catches the curve of your lips.

The slow rhythm, as you pack padding against his wounds. Affixing tape to his skin, a kiss placed against one - as if it would help them heal faster.

His look heated, and he knows you feel it too. The hitch of your hips. The pressure when you grind down - your eyes blown dark when you look at him from beneath your lashes.

He can give you what you need.

A grunt, as a hand grasps at your hips. The loose supplies slipping from his abdomen, as he coaxes you into your knees.

His other hand wrapping around the base of his cock, tilting his hard length up to rest against your belly.

“Need you.” It’s gritted out.

On another day he might have swallowed it down. Let you come to him.

But right now, he can’t take any more teasing, wrapped in your soft touch. He’s already resisting the urge to drive into you, as you angle him against your opening.

The slightest pressure, as you start to give around him - opening up. And when you finally sink down flush against him, he forgets himself.

It’s now and it’s six years ago - all those evenings spent, entwined.

Fitting together, watching the way your brow still pinches as your body makes room to take him - the stretch as your hands curl into fists against his chest.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” It slips from him, when your hips fully meet his.

It only makes you squeeze more tightly around him, his breath caught in a low rumble in his chest.

Your own admission, as you dip down to kiss him, “Missed you more.”

Finding himself transfixed, in spite of the weariness. The ache in his bones that are now a part of him are forgotten in the way you watch him.

Eyes half-lidded, as you find your balance. Starting a slow grind of your hips, a look thrown his way when you feel his muscles string tight beneath you.

The lightest pressure of your palms against his chest, careful of his wounds.

“Want to make you feel good.” It’s a command, tinged with permission. It’s woven with love, and the thought of taking matters into his own hands ebbs.

“Always do, sweetheart,” Logan husks, “Every fucking time.”

Letting himself settle back against the mattress. Losing himself in the tight grip of your pussy. Your soft curves, as his hands wander.

Squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, urging you to ride him harder. Slipping up to tease at your tits, an upward flex of his hips when you cry out his name.

You once told him that you wanted him the first moment you met him. Now, he wishes he had met you sooner.

A year. A day. Even a minute.

The thought pulses in his chest, in time with his heart. Fingers skating over skin as you ride him. A flash of white when he thumbs against your clit, giving you something to grind against.

You’re molten around him. Soft and sweet and it’s all he can do to match the way you bounce on his cock. Feet planting against the bed to help can meet you, urging himself just that little bit deeper.

Melting just a little bit further, when you can’t help but lean down - needing his mouth against yours.

Flattening yourself against his chest, as your rhythm goes needy. Sloppy grinds instead of the sharp slap, taking him deep and keeping him there.

His thumb swirls, and your ragged moan breaks the kiss. Head dipping as you lean back - hips chasing your pleasure, rocking into his familiar touch.

Can smell how much you need it. How you drip around his cock, the coarse hairs matted with your desire.

Teeth clenching, and it only makes him fuck to harder into you, to loosen your tongue.

“Logan, fuck-” It’s whimpered, in that pretty tone that he loves, “Think I’m gonna come-”

The leash he grasps onto slipping between his fingers. A low heat in his belly burning brighter, a pressure ticking down with each slap of his hips.

“Know you’re close. Let go, baby. So fucking good for me-”

Something rasped out, as you flutter around his cock. Taking him deep, spearing him into your belly.

“Fuck, I can feel you coming on my cock.” It comes out ragged, his breath catching, “Gonna make me come, too-”

Your gaze is dark. Hands pressing harder against his chest as you find yourself again, riding him harder. Panting through it, as it tips towards too much - your orgasm still burning brightly.

He's surrounded by you, and he only wants more. Fingers pinching into your hips, driving himself into you.

“Wanna make you come,” You breathe, “Want to feel you tomorrow-”

It’s enough that he forgets himself. A hands tight against your hip, a sharp tug that pulls you flush. The other curls around the back of your neck as he flips you beneath him.

Your gasping laugh pairs with his snarl. An arm hooking under your knee - pushing, opening you up as he holds you in place.

Watching how your eyes glaze. Following the tug of your fingers, bringing his mouth down to yours. Your pulse thundering beneath his thumb, as his tongue licks into your mouth.

He tastes like you, as his eyes slip shut. You linger on his lips, smeared across his beard. A ragged moan as your hips lift to meet the sharp smack-smack-smack of his hips, and then his vision is going hazy.

Your name snarled out, twining with soft sentiments. Hilting himself just as the pressure reaches its peak, his cock throbbing as he spills with a growl inside you.

The tension easing with each flex of his hips, fucking himself empty into your warmth. Into your embrace, your arms wrapping around and keeping him close. The scruff of his beard scrapes your cheek, but you only hitch a thigh around his hips - nudging him deeper.

Logan would stay here forever, buried in you, if he could. It slips from him, then - rasped low into your ear.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He should tell you more often. Would tell you every day, if not for the guilt that twists in his guts each time you say it back.

But tonight, he can only lean into it. The soft whisper, as your lips drag against his cheek. You say it just like you used to. It still comes just as easily.

“I love you too, Logan.”

And when his breathing settles and his eyes open - his chest catches.

You're adorned with your devotion - hair dotted with alyssum. Forget-me-nots and primrose dappled across your shoulders, yarrow and heather blooming around your curves.

Had learned the names of them, long ago. They come back, as his fingers trace over each bloom.

You’re beautiful.

But you always have been.

Prettiest goddamn thing he’s ever seen.

He bites harder, when he’s wounded.

No more than a cornered animal. But the anger - it takes a hold on him. Leaving him to soften, when there’s a hand he knows.

Making words slip from him that he’d tuck inside, on a different day.

“I do it for you, blossom.” It comes out quiet, in the darkened room, “You know that right?”

You shift against his shoulder. Head cradled against his chest, ear pressed to his heart.

“We do it for Charles,” You breathe, half-asleep. Fingers splaying across his sternum, tracing against the dark whorls of hair.

His own brush over petals. Used to help pluck them from you, after stolen moments during missions. Would love the way your face screwed up - a soft veil of embarrassment washing over you. His own lips pulled in a smug smile, as he had tucked one behind you ear.

Logan huffs, the sound low. Almost a laugh.

“I keep going for you.”

His heart would keep beating for a long time, but he thinks it would stop if yours did.

You press yourself tighter against him. It’s mumbled against his skin, “Keep going for you, too.”

There’s salt against his skin, tears you can’t afford to shed. Silent, as the stars creep higher in the sky above you.

Should be out driving, right now. Can’t bring himself to leave.

So he holds you, until your breathing slows. Until the tension eases once again, sleep taking you.

You never were afraid of him. Only for him.

Never hesitated to crawl into bed beside him, even with his nightmares. Can still remember your insisting.

Clip the stem of the flower, and the bloom will fade. Skewer it though, and it will grow around it - oozing golden ichor until it heals.

It's supposed to be a comfort.

But Logan doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s afraid that he plucked you from the earth, long ago.

You just haven’t realized it yet.

Logan finds you in the garden.

Charles is out with you today. Tucked beneath the afternoon shadows of the smelting plant. He would laugh - does laugh - at your excuse of a garden. It pales in comparison to the mansion. The old ivy that crawled up the walls, across the sprawling grounds.

You laugh with him, because - what else is there to be done?

The sound dies, as the limo comes back early. A hand shades your eyes, as he steps out.

Still weary, though not as much as yesterday. Worry set in the lines around his eyes the grit of his jaw.

The reason revealed, when he steps to the side. A girl, stumbling out of the back seat of the limo.

Her eyes are feral, and there’s something so familiar about her that it steals your breath.

“Crescere.” Charles breathes - more lucid than you’ve seen him in days, “That is Laura. She’s the mutant I told you about. The one we have to help get to Eden.”

And for a moment, he’s the Charles he was a decade ago. The one you would have followed to the end.

Something blooms in your chest, at the sight of the girl.

The mutant, when there hasn’t been a new one in so long. A tight knot unfurling inside you, and it feels like a new beginning.

It feels like hope.

and then they all left to find Eden together and nothing bad ever happened again! 😌💖 I'm heading back to Trouble Will Find Me and Come On And Show Me after this, just was struck with this idea and wanted to explore it! thanks so much for reading!!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #old man logan

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03jyh23 · 2 months ago

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🖤⌇ thuggish charm chapter one bandit(?)!; a jung wooyoung mini-series

badboy(?) wooyoung x fem!reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: the one where you miss your train and meet a charming... bandit?

│genre: romance

│trigger warnings: none?

│words: 4.5 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

│taglist: if you wish to join let me know here

— hi there, my lovely people! honestly, i have no idea what this is 😭. i got inspired by a song from one of the rappers in my country and just went with it. and now i'm just wondering if i should do something more with this story or just leave it be?

love, mon ♡

A cold evening breeze tousled your hair, plastering strands to your face. A heavy bag hung from your shoulder, filled with items that couldn't fit into the large suitcase standing beside you, your hand gripping its handle tightly. The thing was, you didn't make it to your transfer train. Despite your friends' warnings, you insisted you could grab a much-needed iced coffee in the 10 minutes before your train left. You were wrong.

The platform was dark, with only two solitary lamps casting a dim light. You cursed yourself under your breath, but there wasn't much you could do now. You'd already waited for an hour; you could've managed another before the next train arrived. You glanced at your phone, sighing heavily—it was running out of battery. It was frustrating. You'd have to wait two hours just to take a train for a little over forty minutes to reach your hometown. But you were the only one to blame. Well, at least you had your coffee and a blueberry muffin. But it wasn’t worth it, not at all. You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter around you. You glanced at the large clock hanging from the information board, hoping the minutes would pass more quickly. Of course, they didn't.

After an frustratingly long time you finally heard the train approaching, its rumble growing louder as it neared the station. You felt a mix of relief and anticipation wash over you. Finally, you'd be on your way. As the train's headlights pierced through the darkness, illuminating the platform, you gathered your belongings and prepared to board, eager to put this frustrating delay behind you.

The car you boarded was empty, so you sat down at the very end, near the window. You placed your luggage in the designated area and quickly plugged in your phone to charge as much as possible for the remaining journey.

As the train pulled into the next station, the platform gradually came into view, bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights that cast long shadows across the concrete. The stark illumination revealed an almost deserted space, save for a group of eight young men clustered near the far end. Their presence immediately caught your attention, starkly contrasting the emptiness surrounding them. Each member of the group was clad entirely in black, their dark attire blending into the night behind them. As your eyes adjusted to the scene, you noticed intricate tattoos adorning their bodies and faces - some subtle, others bold and striking. Three of them were casually smoking cigarettes, the wisps of smoke curling upwards into the night air. As you observed them, one of the smokers suddenly locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense and unwavering, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he deliberately tossed his half-finished cigarette into a nearby bin. The action, while seemingly casual, felt loaded with meaning. Your heart plummeted, a mix of anxiety and unease settling in your stomach. The weight of his stare was palpable, even from this distance. Instinctively, you turned your head away, breaking the uncomfortable connection. Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. As the train doors hissed open, you found yourself fervently hoping that none of the group would decide to board. The thought of sharing this confined space with them filled you with a sense of apprehension that you couldn't quite shake off.

"Wooyoung-ah, just get there and get it done with, yeah?" the unexpected gentleness in the voice you’ve just heard had caught you off guard. You grabbed your phone to busy yourself with, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked it, trying to appear nonchalant.

As you glanced up from your phone, you saw one of the young men from the group stepping onto the train. His movements were fluid and graceful, belying his intimidating appearance. The tattoos on his face seemed to dance in the flickering light of the train car. "I'll be fine, Joong. See y'all next week, yeah?" the boy called out, waving to his companions just before the train doors closed with a loud beep. Your heart rate quickened as you realized he must be Wooyoung, the one addressed earlier. His hair was black, neck-length, with a fringe styled neatly—only a few strands falling onto his forehead. You noticed a bandage right above his eyebrow, the skin around it purple with bruises. He wasn't tall, but the chunky boots and large leather jacket made him appear more imposing. The tattoos adorning his face seemed to shift and dance in the dim light of the train, adding an air of mystery to his already intimidating presence. His dark eyes scanned the train car, eventually settling on you. For a moment, your gazes locked, and you felt a mix of fear and inexplicable curiosity wash over you.

Wooyoung chose a seat a few rows ahead of you, close enough that you could observe him without being too obvious. As he settled in, you couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders relaxed slightly, as if he was shedding some of the intensity he had displayed on the platform. The train lurched forward, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the intimidating figure you'd seen on the platform with the young man now sitting quietly a few rows ahead. His presence seemed to fill the car, even in silence. Your eyes were drawn to the intricate tattoos adorning his face. The one beneath his left eye caught your attention - at first glance, it looked like the number 26, but as you studied it more closely, you realized it might be something else entirely. Your gaze drifted to his temple, where a small, delicate butterfly tattoo rested, a surprising contrast to his otherwise intimidating appearance. You tried to read the lettering above his eyebrow when he caught your eyes again. You raised your eyebrows and looked away, feeling a shudder run through your body. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place. Your heart raced as you pretended to be engrossed in your phone, all too aware of his presence just a few rows ahead.

The train's rhythmic movement did little to calm your nerves as you found yourself stealing quick glances at Wooyoung again, hoping he wouldn't notice. The tattoo above his eyebrow remained a mystery, its meaning just out of reach.

Suddenly, his voice broke the silence, startling you out of your thoughts. "You know, it's not polite to stare," he said, his tone filled with amusement. His eyes met yours again, this time with a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, caught red-handed in your observation. "I... I'm sorry," you stammered, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected address.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, turning to face you more directly. "Curious about the ink?" he asked, gesturing to the tattoos on his face. "Most people are. They either can't look away or can't bear to look at all." His words carried a weight that suggested he was used to both reactions. You felt your words frozen in your throat, unable to form a coherent response. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze and the unexpected interaction left you speechless. You simply averted your eyes, focusing intently on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You heard him chuckling softly, a sound that was both melodious and slightly unnerving. "Not much of a talker, huh?" he mused, his eyes still fixed on you. You dared to look up again, the warmth in his expression caught you off guard, softening his intimidating appearance. It was a stark contrast to the intense gaze you had encountered earlier. For a moment, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a fraction. "Are you afraid of me?" Wooyoung asked, sensing your hesitation. His voice was softer than you expected. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications.

You hesitated, weighing your words carefully. The initial fear you felt was still there, but it had been tempered by curiosity and the unexpected warmth in his smile. "I... I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's fair," he said, his voice sultry. "But I promise, I'm much more... fun than I look." He winked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Want to find out just how deceiving appearances can be?" His gaze locked with yours, intense and inviting, daring you to look beyond his intimidating exterior.

You blinked continuously, taken aback by his bold proposition. "E-excuse me?" you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. The sudden shift in the conversation left you flustered, unsure of how to respond to unexpected flirtation.

Wooyoung rose from his seat, his movements fluid and deliberate. As he approached, you found yourself captivated by his presence. He stood before you, and for the first time, you truly noticed the intricate details of his face. His nose and lip piercings glinted in the dim light of the train car, adding to his allure. You were struck by how handsome he was up close, his features a perfect blend of sharp angles and soft curves. Looking up at him, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Wooyoung's eyes met yours, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "May I?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he gestured towards the seat next to you. The question hung in the air, loaded with possibilities. Your heart raced as you considered your options. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze made you feel both thrilled and uneasy. After a moment's hesitation, you nodded slightly, your curiosity overcoming your apprehension. As he settled into the seat beside you, his presence both intimidating and oddly comforting, you couldn't help but wonder what you were getting yourself into.

"My name's Wooyoung," he says, his eyes roaming your features. "And I'd hate to scare off such a beautiful girl, so answer me... are you really afraid of me? Or is it just my killer looks that's got your tongue?" You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck as Wooyoung's words washed over you. His proximity was intoxicating, the scent of leather and something distinctly masculine filling your senses. You struggled to find your voice, caught between the intimidating aura he exuded and the undeniable attraction you felt.

"I... I'm not afraid," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just... surprised." You met his gaze, finding yourself drawn into the depth of his dark eyes.

Wooyoung's pierced lips curved into a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Surprised? By what? My charming personality or my devilishly good looks?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, some of the tension dissipating. "Maybe a bit of both," you admitted, surprising yourself with your boldness.

His smirk widened into a genuine smile, transforming his face. "I like your honesty," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, beautiful, since we've established you're not afraid of me, how about we make this train ride a little more... interesting?" You crossed your arms and leaned back against the window, trying to put some distance between yourself and Wooyoung. His sudden closeness and bold proposition had caught you off guard, and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts.

"Are you going to shout 'A bandit! Help!' and run away now?" he joked, but you couldn't quite shake off the feeling he'd been in this situation before. Despite his joking tone, there was an undercurrent of familiarity in his words. Gathering your courage, you decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Do people usually call you a bandit?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and caution.

Wooyoung's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something—perhaps surprise or appreciation—crossing his features. He leaned back, creating a bit more space between you, and let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, straight to the point, aren't you?" he said, his tone a blend of amusement and something more serious. "Let's just say I've heard it enough times to make jokes about it. But appearances can be deceiving, you know?" His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability there that contradicted his tough exterior. "What do you think? Am I living up to the 'thug' stereotype?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Finally, you took a deep breath and met his eyes directly. The intensity of his gaze made you feel both nervous and intrigued. "Honestly?" you asked with hesitation, weighing your next words carefully.

"No, please lie to me!" Wooyoung joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of chewing gum. With a swift motion, he popped one into his mouth, the minty scent wafting between you. You couldn't help but smile at his playful response, feeling some of the tension dissipate. The casual act of chewing gum somehow made him seem more approachable, and less intimidating than before.

Taking another deep breath, you decided to answer honestly. "At first glance, maybe. The tattoos, the piercings, the whole vibe... it's intimidating," you admitted, watching his reaction carefully. "But talking to you now? You seem more... complex than that. There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" You surprised yourself with your boldness, but something about Wooyoung made you want to dig deeper, to understand the person behind the intimidating facade.

Wooyoung smirked, raising one of his eyebrows as he popped a bubble with the gum. "Are you a psychiatrist in the making?" he teased. You wanted to brush off his little comment, but he didn't give you time to answer. "'I'm no bandit, first I've heard of it,'" he said, putting his hands up as if he were surrendering. "You'd be shocked at how many times I've had to say that." His words carried a hint of frustration beneath the playful tone, and you found yourself wondering about the experiences that led him to make such a statement. Wooyoung leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "the ladies think I kill, but at home, I walk in pink slippers." He paused, letting the image sink in before continuing, "And all the grannies yell when I step out on the street." His gaze locked with yours, a mix of amusement and challenge in his expression. You couldn't help but laugh at the contrast he painted. The image of this intimidating figure in pink slippers was both absurd and oddly endearing.

"What else do you do at home?" you tease, finally relaxing into your seat, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Isn't that a very personal question?" he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful expression. "Well, you did invite me to make this train ride more interesting," you countered, your confidence growing with each exchange. "Besides, I'm curious about the man behind the tattoos and pink slippers." Your eyes met his, a silent challenge in your gaze, daring him to reveal more about himself.

"As for the tattoos, I just fucking like them, that's all," Wooyoung said with a shrug. His nonchalant attitude towards his tattoos made you wonder about the stories behind each one.

You found yourself drawn to the intricate designs adorning his skin, each one likely holding a unique significance. "Do any of them have special meanings?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. Wooyoung's eyes lit up at your question, a mix of surprise and appreciation crossing his features.

"I'll save the answer to that for a second date," Wooyoung said with a wink. He nonchalantly popped another gum balloon before spitting it into the small trash bin.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of intrigue and amusement at his flirtatious response. "A second date? Aren't we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?" you teased back, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge. The easy banter between you two was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Wooyoung leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Well, I consider this our first date, ever since you agreed for me to sit here," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The boldness of his statement caught you off guard, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh really?" you replied, trying to match his confidence. "And here I thought first dates usually involved dinner or a movie, not a chance encounter on a train."

Wooyoung's grin widened, "Who says we can't be unconventional?" he countered, his gaze never leaving yours. "But if you want all of that," he continued, his voice taking on a playful, almost challenging tone, "then it's my pleasure to take you on such a... boring date without anything extraordinary to it." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly closer. "Though I have to warn you, even my idea of 'ordinary' might surprise you."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Who says I'd even agree to go out with you in the first place?" you challenged, your tone playful but with a hint of seriousness. "You're making quite a few assumptions there, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting your response. He leaned back, a mix of surprise and admiration crossing his features. After a moment, he let out a low chuckle. "Touché," he said, his voice tinged with respect. "I guess I got a bit ahead of myself there. My apologies." He paused, his gaze softening. "But can you blame a guy for trying? You're not exactly easy to resist."

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words, but you maintained your composure. "Flattery will get you nowhere," you said, though you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "But I appreciate the apology. Maybe we should start with getting to know each other a bit better before planning any dates, hmm?"

Wooyoung's eyes lit up with amusement at your suggestion. "Why waste time if we can get to know each other on the date?" he countered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "After all, isn't that what dates are for?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "You don't even know my name," you pointed out, shaking your head in amusement at his bold flirtation.

Wooyoung's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "I don't need that to know you're the most beautiful woman I've seen," he said, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck at his words, caught between flattery and disbelief at his audacity. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but be charmed by his confidence and smooth talking.

You decided to play along with his flirtatious banter, feeling a mix of amusement and excitement. With a coy smile, you leaned in slightly and said, "I hope my beauty isn't too distracting. We wouldn't want you to miss your stop, would we?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow, appreciative grin spread across his face. "Oh, darling," he drawled, his voice low and rich, "I'd gladly miss a hundred stops if it meant spending more time with you."

You couldn't help but giggle, turning your face away in embarrassment, not able to continue with the banter. You felt a warmth spreading through your chest, a mix of embarrassment and excitement at the intensity of Wooyoung's flirtation. As you turned back to face him, you caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes, a vulnerability that seemed at odds with his bold exterior. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be caught in his gaze, feeling a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty. As the silence stretched between you, you noticed how Wooyoung started playing with his lip ring, his fingers absently toying with the small metal hoop. His eyes, which had been locked with yours, briefly dropped to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The gesture was subtle, but unmistakable, sending a small thrill through you. You found yourself wondering how that lip ring would feel against your own lips, the thought was both thrilling and intimidating. It sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards Wooyoung, his bold confidence and mysterious aura drawing you in. Your eyes flickered to his lips, lingering on the silver ring that adorned them. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel the cool metal against your skin. Catching yourself, you quickly averted your gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. But the image remained, tantalizing and forbidden, at the edges of your mind. You tried to push the thought away, but it persisted, a silent acknowledgment of your growing desire.

Wooyoung's whispered words sent a shiver down your spine. "If there's something you want to do, you should act upon it," he murmured, leaning in closer. His head tilted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. You felt a magnetic pull towards him, your heart racing as the space between you diminished. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and you found yourself drawn to his lips, that tantalizing lip ring catching the dim light of the train. Time seemed to slow as you hovered on the precipice of decision. Should you give in to the desire that had been building since this chance encounter began? Or was this moving too fast, too soon?

Wooyoung smiled lightly, his face so close you could feel his breath on your skin. The proximity made the lump in your throat grow, your heart racing with anticipation. His voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper as he asked, "Is it alright for me to touch you?" The question hung in the air between you, charged with tension and unspoken desire. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the thrill of the moment and the rational part of your mind reminding you that you'd just met. Your body seemed to lean towards him of its own accord, drawn by an inexplicable magnetism. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. But it wasn't enough for Wooyoung. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he whispered, "I need to hear you actually say it." His voice was low, almost husky, sending a shiver down your spine. The anticipation hung thick in the air between you, every second stretching out like an eternity.

You swallowed hard, finding your voice. "Yes," you breathed, barely audible even in the quiet of the train car. "You can touch me." The words left your lips, a mix of nervousness and excitement coloring your tone. Wooyoung's eyes lit up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leaned in even closer. Wooyoung's hand moved to your jaw, his touch gentle yet electrifying. His fingers caressed your cheek, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, deliberately, he ran his thumb over your lower lip, the sensation causing you to tremble involuntarily. Your breath hitched, caught between anticipation and nervousness as you felt the intensity of his touch and gaze.

You closed your eyes, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your heart raced as you whispered, "You can kiss me now." The words hung in the air, charged with anticipation. You waited, breath held, for him to make his move. Wooyoung's breath hitched audibly, a soft exhale that you felt against your skin. There was a moment of stillness, the world seeming to pause around you. Then, with agonizing slowness, you felt him lean in. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, testing. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a jolt through you, contrasting with the warmth of his mouth.

As if emboldened by your response, Wooyoung deepened the kiss. His hand cupped your face more firmly, fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss was a perfect blend of gentle and passionate, leaving you breathless. You could taste the hint of his earlier gum, with a hint of cigarettes. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the moment, all thoughts of the train and your surroundings fading away.

Suddenly, a jolt from the train brought you both back to reality. You pulled away slightly, your cheeks flushed and your breath coming in short gasps. Wooyoung's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed at you, a small smile playing on his lips. The moment hung between you, charged with the thrill of newfound connection.

You looked out the window, suddenly realizing with a jolt that you recognized the station passing by. "It's my stop!" you shouted, jumping to your feet in a panic. You quickly unplugged your phone, then grabbed your suitcase and bag, heart racing as you rushed towards the doors.

Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by your sudden movement. "Wait—" he started to say, but you were already halfway down the aisle.

As you reached the doors, you turned back briefly, catching a glimpse of Wooyoung's bewildered expression. A mix of regret and excitement coursed through you as the train began to slow. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out onto the platform, your mind reeling from the whirlwind encounter you'd just experienced. You stood there, catching your breath as the train doors closed behind you. Your heart was still racing, not just from the rush to exit, but from the intense encounter you'd just experienced. As you watched the train pull away, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever see Wooyoung again, or if this magical moment would remain just that—a fleeting connection in the night.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

#wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x y/n #ateez au #ateez x you #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung fanfic #ateez #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #ateez wooyoung

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sinkpisser3000 · 6 months ago

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been seeing a lot of danger days headcannons on my dash so i thought i'd share mine :3 Party Poison: Enby, they/them Aroace Is not allowed to put music on in the car Is not allowed to drive the car Can only read very simple things, and they absolutely fucking love Dr. Seuss. They found a whole bunch of old Dr. Seuss books, read all of them (with Fun Ghoul's assistance) and was heartbroken when they had to burn the books for heat. Always kicks their feet when they sit in a chair Constantly stealing Kobra's sunglasses Their boots don't fit them, but they refuse to wear any other shoes Kobra Kid: Trans FTM, he/him Bi Snores loudly He's the one that banned Party from playing music in the car Generally pretty quiet, but gets very loud and excited when someone brings up cars (it's his hyperfixation. that's right, autism blast) Will do the macarena to any music that is put on, and perfectly on beat Would give his life to save his sibling, but also beats them up frequently for stealing his sunglasses Jet Star: Male, he/they/it Pan Definitely has a huge crush on Kobra, who is completely oblivious He's the only one who knows how to drive Goes to bed at 7 PM The Girl (and all the other Killjoys) call them mom Can't read Not actually a very good mother figure. The Killjoys call him mom because it drives them everywhere. Kobra Kid once bit them because they punched Party Fun Ghoul: No gender, only rage. Any pronouns Gay Surprisingly, he's the only one who can read more than just basic words Both the most chaotic and the most responsible Loves to bother Dr. Death-Defying. Once played Christmas music (it was the middle of June) on Dr. D's station Has a TERRIBLE memory Dr. Death-Defying: Trans FTM, he/they Queer Former wavehead, recovered with Cherri Cola's help Pretends to hate Ghoul's dumb pranks, but he actually thinks they're pretty funny Once told Ghoul that if they lick a battery it'll give them superpowers He was in a band before the Analog Wars They're really afraid to be vulnerable in front of others, unless it's Cola or Show Pony, who've seen pretty much every side of him Definitely autistic, but doesn't believe anyone who tells him that Cherri Cola (every single one of these is just me projecting onto this poor, poor man.) Genderfluid, has silly little bracelets to indicate their pronouns on any given day Gay as FUCK Their favorite colors are bright pink and army green Do not let them near Val Velocity. They will kill that motherfucker dead. They're terrified of growing up, but they hate being treated like a teenager Once had a sore throat and thought they were going to die

#killjoys #danger days #danger days headcanons #my chemical romance #sinkpisser3000 back on their bullshit

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mothguillotine · 2 months ago

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Chapter 1: Two Scoops of Ice Cream, Please.

Main Masterlist

cw: some swearing (and a near vehicular manslaughter)

word count: 5.7k

Summary: You move into your new house and explore the unfamiliar town, meeting new faces.

The only thing you were looking forward to about the move was the promise of a newly built mall. You were not excited to move away from your friends, but you were decidedly not excited about moving to Indiana of all places. You weren't too excited when your parents first sat you down to tell you about the move, but you tried to make the best of it for your family's sake.

Your parents promised to help you redecorate your room, and you would get first pick of the rooms before your younger sister, who was just as unpleased about your move. By the end of April, your parents had bought a house in Hawkins, Indiana, and at the beginning of June, you officially moved. The movers carry the boxes and furniture from your old house, putting them into moving trucks. When you get to the town, barren is an understatement, the town looks abandoned.

Looking out the car window, you can’t see anyone, and when you turn to look out your sister's side, no one is around either. Theresa, your younger sister, looks very unhappy with your current surroundings. While the two of you can’t agree on very much anymore, both of you are mutually upset about the move.

“Where is everyone?” Theresa asks your mom, who turns in her seat to face the two of you.

“I think they built a new mall here recently,” your mom says, smiling at the two of you, “Why do you both look so depressed?”

“We just are tired from the care ride,” you tell her, knowing best it's just to make up an excuse.

“Well we are almost there,” your mom says, turning back around to face the road, “John, we were supposed to turn right back there.”

You ignore the sound of your parents arguing in the front of the car. Unfortunately, your Walkman batteries had run out an hour into the drive. It was stupid of you not to make sure to grab spares, but you just didn’t think about it. After such a long drive, you were excited to get up and move around, putting all of your stuff in your room and finally being alone.

When you get to the house, it's honestly not too bad. The house seems freshly redone and smells like new carpet. All of the bedrooms are on the second floor, and staying true to her word, your mom, let you pick the first bedroom, aside from your parents' room. The room you pick is at the front of the house with a large bookshelf with a built-in desk. All of your books would fit well, and you would have room for more in your other bookshelf.

You walk downstairs to where your parents are standing in the kitchen. Your dad is on the phone, the cord wrapped around one of the columns while he stands over your mom, who is taking notes on her notepad. Both of them look incredibly upset, especially your dad who, by the looks of it, is trying his hardest not to yell at the person on the other line.

“I don’t understand,” he says, “Why did you hire him if he wasn’t licensed?”

He stays quiet for a moment, listening to the phone.

“So when is the soonest it can be here?” he asks and listens, “Tomorrow?! That's not going to work for me. I have my first day at my new job tomorrow. I need my furniture today!”

“John, remember, deep breaths,” your mom whispers.

“I need you to figure out something,” your dad says to the phone. Your mom stands up and walks to the living room, motioning you to follow.

“Take your sister to the mall,” she tells you, “It will be easier to keep Tee distracted when she is out.”

“I’ll take the car?” you ask.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, “Pick up a pizza when you come home.”

“Okay,” you tell her.

“Here is $20 for the pizza,” she says and hands you a crisp green bill.

Tee being excited to go to the mall is an understatement. She is ecstatic. The possibility of meeting new friends was exciting to her. You were a little less so. For Tee, it would be easier. She was only 13, and you were graduating after this next year. The chances you would be stuck by yourself for the next year were high compared to hers.

When you pulled your mom's car into the parking lot, it was clear that nearly all of Hawkins was there, just like your mom said. Cars take up most spots in the lot, and when one is available, it is almost immediately taken. People of all different ages are going in and out with bags full of newly bought merchandise.

When you are nearing the end of a car lane and are about to turn out, a few kids on bikes ride by, narrowly missing your front bumper, a few boys, and a girl.

“Hey,” the girl shouts, “Watch where you are driving!”

“You almost hit them!” Tee says from the passenger seat.

“If anything, they almost hit me,” you tell her.

“I hope they didn’t see my face,” she says, putting her hands over her face to shield it.

“Oh stop being so dramatic,” you tell her, rolling your eyes, “Oh look, there's a spot!”

“I’m not being dramatic,” she tells you.

“Okay,” you tell her, “But there is no way I would have seriously hurt any of them.”

“So you admit it,” she says as you shift the car into park, “You almost hurt them.”

“No,” you tell her, looking over, “Why do you think I want to hurt children?”

“They weren’t children,” she says, “They were like, the same age as me.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you tell her, “Babies.”

From the outside of the mall, you knew that it was gonna be big, but the inside you would describe as huge. Hundreds of people are traversing the mall, each of them walking with their families or friends, either window shopping or making purchases. It’s also apparent that this is where all the teenagers hang out given the number of high schoolers and middle schoolers.

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask Tee.

“Uh, the Gap?” Tee says.

“Okay, let's go,” you tell her and start walking towards the storefront.

The store is full of brightly colored garments with different patterns, many of them being geometrical. Tee picks through the first rack in the store, trying to find her size in the multitude of clothing. For example, the shirt Tee is currently looking at looks like a geometry textbook threw up on some fabric.

“Look at how cute this is,” Tee says, holding up the shirt to rest on her torso.

“You look like a geometry teacher,” you tell her.

“Just because you aren’t as stylish as me, you have to be rude,” she tells you, her face a bit upset.

“If you wanna buy it, be my guest,” you tell her.

“Well, I don’t have any money,” she tells you.

“I guess you can’t get it then,” you tell her.

Tee huffs but puts the shirt back on the rack. Both of you move around the store looking through each of the racks. A few things catch your eye, but not enough to make you wanna try anything on. By the time you reach where you started, you are tired of the Gap. The pop music is starting to burn your ears, and the neon clothes are starting to kill your eyes.

“Mom wants us to pick up a pizza on our way back,” you tell your younger sister.

“Ugh,” she exclaims, “Pizza, again? This is like the fifth day in a row.”

“I know,” you tell her, “But we don’t have our kitchen stuff yet. I’m sure tomorrow we will cook something different. Maybe we can convince Mom to take us to the mall again. Then you can try and get her to buy you that ugly shirt.”

Tee stops walking next to you, and when you turn around, Tee has a hurt look on her face, “Do you really think it’s ugly?”

You take a moment to think about what to say, “No, I don’t actually think it's ugly. Besides, if anyone could look gorgeous in that, it would be you.”

“You think so?” she asks.

“Of course,” you tell her, “I was just messing with you. I don’t really have any room to talk, have you seen how I dress?”

Tee laughs, “I think you could pull it off too.”

“Oh, shut it,” you tell her, laughing.

“Ooh look,” Tee says, pointing at a small ice cream parlor.

“Scoops Ahoy?” you ask her.

“I have like, two dollars,” she tells you, “Can I please get a small cone?”

“You have money?” you ask her.

“Yeah,” she tells you, “Mom let me have all the change she found from the old couch.”

She reaches into her pocket and presents you with a dollar and some change, “Okay,” you tell her, “But I am not paying for any extra sprinkles or hot fudge.”

“I know,” she says and starts walking to the shop.

The shop is something you would expect to see off the coast. Everywhere you look, there is a nautical theme going on. If it wasn't wrong to use the same joke twice you would say a sailor threw up after eating too much ice cream and if the music for the Gap wasn’t bad enough, this place is constantly playing weird boat music. Working here seems like hell, and when you both get to the front of the line, you are correct.

The two employees who are working at the moment seem a bit uncomfortable. One is standing at the freezer scooping ice cream for the people in front of you, and the other is at the register. Both of them look like they would rather be anywhere else.

“Hi,” you greet the girl at the register.

“Ahoy,” she says, her gaze still on the register, “Would you like to try our flavor of the week, Iceberg Mint?”

“Uh, no,” you say, “That name seems a bit insensitive, though.”

The girl finally looks up, making eye contact with you, “What?”

“Like, to the people who died on the Titanic,” you explain, “Sorry, it was just a joke.”

“Oh,” she says, it’s obvious that you have caught her off-guard.

“Well, ahoy there,” the other worker says to you.

“Uh, hi,” you wave your hand at him.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he says, trying to flirt with you.

“Yeah,” you say, “Anyways, we want two small cones, I want the chocolate pudding. What do you want, Tee?”

“Uh, can I try the birthday cake?” she asks the guy at the freezer, he grabs a sampler, and reaches into the freezer.

“Do you want any toppings?” she asks.

“Just chocolate sprinkles on mine,” you tell her.

“Okay,” she says, “That will be $2.50.”

“Here you go,” you tell her, holding out a five-dollar bill.

“They should be right out,” she says and hands you the change.

“Okay, thanks a lot,” you tell her and read her name tag, “Robin.”

“Uh, yeah,” she says, all of a sudden more tense than before, “It was nice meeting you.”

“Have a good night,” you tell her.

“Yeah, you too,” she says.

You put a dollar in the tip jar.

When you get home with the pizza, the moving trucks are thankfully there with the rest of your stuff. Most of your things are already in your room, which means you can start unpacking your boxes after dinner. By the time the pizza is all gone, your sister has convinced your Mom to go to the mall tomorrow.

“Do you wanna come with us?” your mom asks.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” you tell her.

The next morning, you are woken up by the smell of pancakes. Looking at your alarm clock, you see that it's almost 10:30, you roll over on your back and look up at the ceiling. It's silent for a bit until someone knocks on your door. You push your blankets off of yourself and walk to the door.

Tee is standing in front of your door, ready for the day.

“Why aren't you dressed yet?” she asks you.

“I just woke up,” you tell her, rolling your eyes.

“Okay, well, Mom made pancakes, so hurry up,” she tells you.

You give her a thumbs up and close your door. Thankfully, all of your clothes arrived intact, and you were able to put them all away last night. You grab a t-shirt and jeans from your dresser. Downstairs, your Mom and sister are waiting for you at the dining room table.

“Good morning,” your Mom greets you, “I made pancakes!”

“Thanks,” you tell her, “They smell amazing.”

You sit down in the chair next to Tee and put a few pancakes and some bacon on your plate. Your mom pours you some orange juice in the cup set out for you.

“So I was thinking that I would drop the two of you off at the mall later so I can pick up some things from the hardware store,” your mom tells you, “I gave Tee some money for some new clothes for the both of you.”

“Okay,” you agree.

After breakfast, you go back upstairs to continue unpacking until it's time to leave. At noon, you all get into the car and drive to the mall, you in the passenger seat and Tee in the back.

“I will be back at 5,” your Mom tells you when you are out front of the mall, “Here's some money for lunch.”

You and Tee get out of the car and wave to your mom. There is still the same number of people in the mall as last night. You also see the kids that nearly hit you yesterday

"Where do you wanna go first?” you ask her.

“I wanna get that shirt!” she tells you excitedly.

Both of you make your way back to the Gap and to the same rack of shirts from yesterday. Tee is happy to find one in her size and takes it right up to the counter to pay. The line is a bit long, so the two of you have to wait for a few minutes.

“Lucus, what do you think?” a voice asks from nearby.

“I think it's pretty?” another voice responds.

“Wow, thank you so much for your help,” the first voice says.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Max,” the other voice tells the first.

“Ugh, whatever,” the first voice says and walks into your view followed by the other person.

As fate would have it, the girl, presumably Max, who yelled at you yesterday is in the same store. The other person, Lucas, is one of the kids riding the bikes. Lucas is carrying a few different pieces of clothing, most likely belonging to Max.

“Hey, you're the girl who almost hit us yesterday,” Max says, looking directly at you.

“More like you kids are the ones who almost ran into my car yesterday,” you tell her.

“We had the right of way!” she tells you angrily.

“You guys didn’t even look, if the cops came they would have said you were at fault,” you tell her.

“Okay, both of you stop,” Tee says, “Both of you should have looked again but nobody got hit. Both of you apologize to each other.”

“Are you being serious right now?” you ask Tee.

“Yes,” she tells you, nudging you forward.

“Okay, I am sorry for almost hitting you with my car,” you tell other kids, “I should have looked both ways.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” she says and the boy hits her arm with his, “For yelling at you today and yesterday.”

“If we get in line behind you, you won't try to fight each other, right?” the boy asks.

“I promise I won’t beat up a middle schooler,” you tell them.

“I’m not in middle school,” she says and then adds, “Anymore.”

“Well, the point still stands,” you tell her.

“Hi, I’m Tee,” she introduces herself to the two of them, “And that’s my sister.”

“Are you new?” the boy asks.

“Yeah,” Tee says, “We just moved here yesterday.”

“Max was new last year,” he says.

“Where did you move from?” Tee asks Max.

“Uh, California,” she says.

“You moved here from California?” Tee asks, confused.

“Yeah,” she says.

“I love that shirt that you have,” Tee tells Max, pointing at the shirt in her hands, “It will make your eyes stand out.”

“You think?” Max asks.

“Yeah,” Tee says, then asks Lucas, “What do you think?”

“Yeah, your eyes, will, uh be nice,” Lucus offers.

This satisfies Max, “You should come to watch this movie with us.”

“Oh, when?” Tee asks.

“Like in twenty minutes,” Max says, “We get in for free.”

“Really?” Tee asks.

“Yeah,” Lucas says.

“Can I?” Tee asks you.

“Yeah, just give me the money,” you tell her, “You can have the change from this.”

“Okay,” she tells you now with a smile on her face.

After all of you check out, you walk towards the food court. When they turn into the same ice cream parlor from yesterday you can only hope that the one guy isn’t working again but hopefully Robin is. You weren't sure exactly why you wanted to see her so much, sure she was beautiful and could kill it in that sailor's outfit but what did that mean? You had barely spoken to her and yet you wanted to see her again.

When you get inside the ice cream shop there are fewer people than the day before which allows you to see that the same people from yesterday were working. There is only one customer in front of you, Robin again looks uninterested in her job. As soon as the customer in front of you leaves Lucas and Max rush toward the counter where the guy from yesterday is waiting for them.

“You guys are starting to abuse this,” He says to the two of them.

“Mike and Will are already in there,” Max says.

“Yeah, I know, I let them in,” he says, looking disinterested in the conversation.

“Come on, Steve,” Lucas pleads.

“Fine, hurry up,” Steve says.

“Come on, Tee,” Max says.

“Wait, wait,” Steve says, “Who is this random kid?”

“She’s her sister,” Max says and drags Tee and Lucas into the back of the shop.

“Your sister, hm?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, they met earlier,” you explain.

“They are good kids,” Steve tells you, “Are you going to school around here?”

“I will be a senior in the fall at Hawkins,” you tell him.

“I graduated last month,” he tells you, “Just taking some time to get real job experience, you know?”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell him, trying to find a way out of the conversation.

“Steve, I wanna take my lunch break,” Robin says from the register.

"Fine Robin,” Steve says and walks to the register where a customer is waiting.

You leave the ice cream shop and decide that lunch sounds good to you too. Going over to one of the many food places you grab some lunch. When you get to the seating area you see that all of the tables are taken. You also see Robin sitting by herself at a table, so you decide to walk over to her.

“Can I sit?” you ask.

Robin looks up and chokes on her food, “uh, yeah.”

“Thanks,” you tell her.

Both of you sit in silence for a minute until Robin says, “I'm sorry about Steve.”

“Is he always like that?” you ask her.

“If you have boobs, then yes,” she says.

You laugh at her statement, “So, do you go to Hawkins?”

“Yeah,” she says, “I'm going to be a senior too.”

“So we might have classes together?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she says, “You just moved here, right?”

“Yesterday, actually,” you tell her.

“In town?” she asks.

“Yeah, on Jackson Street,” you tell her.

“No, shit, that's right by my house,” she says, “I’m, like, two streets over.”

“Really?” you ask, “You should totally come over sometime.”

“Yeah,” she says, “That sounds fun.”

You and Robin talk until her break comes to an end with the promise of her coming over on her next day off. She also gave you her phone number so that way you could call her if you needed anything, her words exactly. After your lunch, you went shopping for a new pair of shorts. Given that it was getting hotter by the day you knew you needed something that would let you cool off.

After you find and try on nearly every pair you decide on a pair that's high-waisted in a light blue color. When you leave the store you see Tee standing outside Scoops Ahoy with all of the kids who were riding bikes. All of them seem to be getting along well. Hopefully, she found a group of friends to hang out with.

“That’s her,” you hear Max say as you come closer to the group. She is pointing at you and the two other boys you have yet to be introduced to are looking for you.

“You're the girl who almost hit us yesterday?” the taller one asks.

“You know what,” you say, “I’m sorry, okay? Both of us should have looked. Truce?”

He looks at you for a moment, “Okay,” he says.

“It was nice to meet you Tee,” the shorter boy says and brings her in for a hug.

“I’ll see you guys later,” she says.

“Bye!” Max says.

The two of you walk away from them and towards the exit of the mall, “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” she says, “It was, did you find everything you were looking for?”

“Got a new pair of shorts,” you tell her, “What did you eat for lunch?”

“I went to the pretzel place after the movie,” she tells you as you push through the doors.

Your mom is parked in front of the mall and the two of you get in, “Did the two of you have fun?”

“Yeah,” you tell her.

“I made some new friends,” Tee tells her.

“Oh, yeah,” your mom says, “and what about you?”

“I think I met someone,” you tell her.

“Great!” she says and starts the car, “I picked up the paint and wallpaper for your rooms so we can paint tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you tell her.

“Awh, but Mike invited me to hang out at his house with everyone tomorrow,” Tee complains.

“You can at least help me with the first wall,” your mom says, “Then you can go over to Mike’s, which means the earlier we get it done the sooner you can go over.”

“Okay,” Tee says, even though it’s clear she isn’t happy with this either.

“Are you okay with painting by yourself?” your mom asks.

“Yeah,” you tell her, “That's fine.”

The next day is full of paint and music, given that you were painting by yourself you can listen to your Walkman. By the end of the day, your room is all finished and you just have to wait a few weeks before hanging anything up. You decidedly pass out for a third day in a row in your bed.

The next morning you wake up to complete silence which is unusual. When you walk downstairs you find a note from your mom on the counter saying that she was gone and Tee was at Mike’s again. You go over to your purse and take out the napkin Robin wrote her number on.

Then you dial the number from the napkin. The line rings long enough that you are sure you will be met with an answering machine, until the line clicks.

“Hello?” a woman answers.

“Hi,” you greet, “Is Robin there?”

“Yeah,” she says, “Give me a minute.”

On the other end of the line, you hear her call Robin from somewhere in the house. After a minute you hear the phone being picked up and hear Robin, “Hello?”

“Hey, Robin,” you say to her, “I was wondering if you wanted to come over?”

“I uh- yeah,” she says, “That sounds fun.”

“Okay,” you say, “My address is 547 Jefferson.”

“I will be there in like half an hour,” she tells you.

“Okay, see you then.”

Robin was not prepared to meet you. She was awkward and said stupid shit, all the things she mercilessly teased Steve about. All of this combined made it obvious to her that you wouldn't want to see her again, but you had sat down with her yesterday and today you were inviting her over. Someone like you shouldn't be hanging out with her, someone like Steve would make more sense. But you seemed uninterested in Steve, not that she could blame you.

“Hey,” Robin shouts from her doorway, “I’m leaving in a little bit.”

“Okay,” her mom shouts back from somewhere in the house.

The fact is that Robin just doesn’t understand what you want from her still, she gets ready to leave. Today has been especially hot unfortunately so Robin wears a pair of shorts and a tank top, with of course her red Converse. The walk doesn't take too long thankfully and when she gets to your house there appears to be no one home.

Robin walks up the footpath to your front door and rings the doorbell. It’s silent for a moment until she hears someone running down the stairs. A moment later you are opening the door smiling at her, “Hey,”

“Hi,” she says coming into your house, noticing how out of breath you are, “Are you okay.”

“Oh- uh yeah,” you tell her, “I was just rearranging my room a little bit.”

“Do you need any help?” she asks you.

“No,” you tell her, “I just got done.”

You start walking away so Robin follows you into the kitchen. She watches as you grab two cokes from the fridge and open them, you hand her one and take a sip out of the other.

“So, what did you want to do?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” you tell her, “We could watch a movie or listen to some music in my room, whatever you want to do.”

“A movie sounds nice,” she says.

“Okay,” you say, “Do you wanna pick out the movie?”

“Uh- yeah,” she says, “Where are they?”

“Inside the TV stand,” you tell her, “I will make some popcorn.”

After this, it was like you and Robin were inseparable. Whenever Robin wasn't at work she was at your hour or you were at hers. Until work started taking longer due to the increasing heat. Then you and Robin only started seeing each other on the days she wasn’t working. But by late June Robin was exhausted.

“I wish someone else would apply to work my shift,” she tells you on one of her rare days off.

You are both in her bedroom, you are sitting on the ground with your back to the bed while Robin is dramatically hanging off the side of the bed. Today was a record hot day for June and it was killing the both of you.

“At least your job is air-conditioned,” you tell her, “My mom told me to either get a job or help out with the house. I got stuck on fixing up the flowerbeds.”

Robin stays quiet for a minute, “I have an idea,” she says, “Why don’t you apply to Scoops?”

“Ugh, no,” you tell her, “I would have to wear that ugly outfit and listen to annoying music all day.”

“Come on, please,” she says and bats her eyes at you.

“Oh, fuck off,” you tell her laughing and flicking her forehead.

“We would work together,” she says, “It would be so much fun!”

“And I didn’t even mention Steve,” you tell her, “He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Honestly if you tell him you aren’t interested he would probably leave you alone,” she says.

“Really?” you ask her.

“Yeah,” she says, “He might be a bit of a douchebag but he knows what no means.”

You laugh at that, “You really want to spend every day with me?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she says, “You would make work way more tolerable.”

“Only tolerable?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” she says, “So will you?”

“I will think about it,” you promise.

And that promise leads you to a few days later, standing in Scoops Ahoy being trained by Steve and Robin on how to scoop ice cream and how to greet customers. Thankfully Steve has left you alone for the most part instead of just focusing on training you. Robin was very excited when you told her, promising that you would love working with her.

Tonight was the second night you were working which means you were done with training. Steve and Robin were both confident you could handle yourself. Like most nights the mall was packed, you had been working for what felt like forever and it's not even close to closing time yet. Back at home, Tee was gone most days at Mike’s or wherever else she goes, your mom is slowly redoing the house, and your dad was working most days except for the weekends.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Robin asks you from the register.

“I don’t know,” you tell her, “Probably nothing.”

“You should spend the night at my house,” she says.

“Yeah,” you say, “That sounds fun.”

Not a moment later Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, and Tee all rush into the ice cream parlor. Robin leans back over the counter, prepared to talk with the younger teens. As soon as the group reaches the counter Mike repeatedly slams the bell trying to be as annoying as possible.

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin calls, “Your children are here.”

Steve opens the sliding partition separating the backroom and store.

“Again?” Steve asks, exhausted with the children, “Seriously?”

Mike presses the bell yet again, while the others look annoyed. Steve relents and leads them to the back where the back hallway entrance is.

“I swear if anyone hears about this,” Steve yells at the kids from the back before returning to the front of the store.

“It’s time for your break,” he says to you.

“I can’t believe you let the kids bully you into this,” you tell him.

“Now that they have your sister the group is too big to argue with,” he tells you.

“Oh please, they walk all over you,” you say, “And you let them.”

Your break is only 15 minutes so you get to eat your snack right away, propping your feet up on the table, and trying to relax. This does happen for a few minutes until the power decides to go out.

“That’s weird,” you hear Steve say from behind the counter.

You put your sandwich down on the table and walk out to the front.

“What is going on?” you ask.

“No idea,” Steve says and then starts flicking the light switch up and down.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus,” Robin says to him.

“She’s right,” you tell him, “It’s just annoying.”

“Oh, really?” Steve asks then starts flipping the switch faster than before.

You look at Robin and shake your head while rolling your eyes, “He is more than just annoying,” you tell her.

“I know right,” she says.

The lights stay out for another minute and Steve continues his light switch flipping. As soon as the lights come back on Steve gives the two of you a look that says ‘I told you so’.

“Let there be light,” Steve says.

“He didn’t do shit,” you whisper under your breath and Robin laughs.

“What was that?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you tell him, “I’m going to finish my sandwich.”

That night after you are done closing up you finally catch up with Tee, “Hey,” you greet her.

“Hey,” she says back, “How was your day?”

“Ugh,” you moan, “Busy. Did you see the power outage earlier?”

“Yeah,” she says, “It was weird.”

“Mh,” you agree, “Besides that, was your day good?”

“Yeah,” she says happily, “I had a lot of fun.”

“So you guys are all friends?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “They are all super nice.”

“That’s good,” you tell her.

“Are you and Robin friends?” she asks.

“I mean, I think so,” you tell her, “We hang out all the time.”

“Nice,” she says smiling, “Now we both have friends.”

“What are you guys doing tomorrow?” you ask her.

“We are surprising one of their friends,” she tells you, “He was at camp all month, and he's coming back tomorrow.”

“Well that will be fun,” you tell her.

“What about you?” she asks.

“I work again,” you tell her, “But I think I am spending the night at Robins so that will be fun.”

“You should date Steve,” Tee says, which obviously catches you off guard.

“What?” you ask, stopping in your tracks, “No!”

“Why not?” she asks.

“Why do you want me to?” you question.

“Well I think that the two of you would be good together,” she reasons.

“Yeah, absolutely not,” you tell her and continue walking past her.

“Oh, come on,” she says, “He definitely would want to.”

“No,” you say.

“But he would be a good boyfriend,” she tells you, “Mike told me so.”

“Mike? Why did you-” you cut yourself off, “Okay, no, please drop it Tee.”

“Okay,” she relents, “Fine.”

The both of you continue walking out of the mall in silence until you reach your mom's car. You get into the passenger seat and Tee gets into the back.

“How were your days?” your mom asks the two of you.

“Tiring,” you tell her.

“I had fun,” Tee says.

When you return home you go to take a shower and then get ready for bed. After all, it had been a long day.

Next Chapter

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #y/n #reader #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #slow burn #friends to lovers #fluff #angst #fluff and angst #original character #wlw #sapphic #cannon lesbian character #canon compliant

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hisuian-history-makers · 5 months ago

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Casual Casualty—Indigo Park AU, Part 2.

Two-ish days after thinking up the foundation and first part of the AU, I had a small epiphany.

Ed was dumb for an urban explorer!

We can see from the in-game sprite he is really fit, but the way he handled exploring Indigo Park was weird. One—he wasn’t wearing gloves or any long sleeved clothes which can add some extra protection against debris. Two—he didn’t bring his equipment outside of a camera, flashlight, and presumably a bag to carry stuff.

I’ve done a small dive into how urban explorers operate though DISCLAIMER don’t quote me on the little I scrounged up. Urban explorers never go guns blazing into an abandoned property. Urban exploring is technically trespassing in the eyes of the law meaning they have to be extremely careful demeanor wise.

Most follow the rule of “take only photos, leave only footprints” when it comes to exploring. It’s a death sentence to share the exact location of where they explore cause other people will come to vandalize it. The stereotypical carrying bolt cutters, crowbars, and even a gun could bump them up to serious offenses if/when they are caught. If Ed did a full on exploration, then he’d have things like: a first aid kit, food, water, batteries, extra flashlight, sturdy shoes, etc…

Things that a hiker would carry and which he could technically deflect the true reason he came onto the Indigo Park property.

The more I think about it… the more it sounds like Ed was initially going to scout out the Park. He was going to map if there were any obvious ways to enter, if people came out there often, park his car far enough away from cameras or the general foot traffic so it isn’t noticed. Urban exploring comes with major risks if someone doesn’t pay attention to their surroundings. The rubble falling right after Ed got into the tunnel entrance—is a close call nobody wants to risk!

As for how this relates to Casual Casualty: What if Ed didn’t go into Lloyd’s stage when he saw the full grown lion(?) sleeping on stage?!

You can very easily see mascot Lloyd’s form shifting—breathing—as he sleeps on the stage.

If Ed’s an experienced enough urban explorer, he has probably run into situation where doors are locked. The pad lock keeping him from going further into Jetstream Junction is a simple pad lock on a semi-loose looking chain.

Why I bring up a situation like this is, what if Ed managed to get into Jetstream Junction without having that close shave with Lloyd? He could have found a way to pick the lock, or… managed to squeeze in by taking his bag off. This would decrease the threat level of the mascots to him I imagine though he might still be cautious seeing them. (He also wouldn’t have seen Mascot Mollie “Macie” peering at him from around a corner.) Since y’know, they are living flesh and blood versions of fictional characters. AI Rambley was one thing. But this?

Shocking.

I think the actual shock of seeing another real living Mascot and Mollie’s frankly startling appearance… Would dull his reaction.

Leading to Ed’s very unfortunate death.

———————————————————————

[If you can’t tell I wanted to make Ed seem more… competent? I wanted to make him feel smarter than just the game protagonist heading straight into danger after the near death by Lloyd. Laura won’t have a Critter Cuff.]

Thoughts?

#indigo park #indigo park mollie macaw #indigo park ed #ed the urban explorer #aka why you shouldn’t venture further into an abandoned amusement park without the right equipment.#ed not being a complete risk taker #casual casualty au

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iamyouknow-yours · 2 years ago

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I've seen a few people trying to decide between getting a mobility scooter and an electric wheelchair.

Mobility scooters are cheaper but both are expensive. I'm gonna tell you about my scooter and my experience with it. I have the CTM HS-115 scooter. She is red and has 3 wheels. I'll include photos at the end plus a bonus photo of my cat sitting on it.

Things:

The turning circle!!! My house has narrow passages and it can be quite difficult to maneuver the scooter because of the turning circle. Especially when I'm having a bad brain fog day. I have gotten better at maneuvering though.

Wheelchairs have a turning circle of themselves. My scooter has one that is I think around a metre? I don't remember, my memory is bad.

Also it has this really annoying function where it can't be pushed even on pushing mode if it isn't on perfectly flat ground because the automatic braking system kicks in.

I'd also have a look at the amount of rise any mobility aid you are looking at can go over because when entering inaccessible buildings (like my house, I have to lift it up/get someone else to lift it for me.

Some of these problems would not be fixed by getting not a mobility scooter but some would.

My back sometimes hurts if I'm in it for a while (because the back rest is not very tall) but I've fixed this by having a cushion and remembering to lean back all the way.

To be clear though I love my scooter. She is very useful and has loads of benefits.

And I don't know any of the downsides of a power chair because I have no lived experience with one.

She can go on pretty rough terrain. She's pretty sturdy. I've taken her to the park near my house and round my friend's garden. As well as more obvious places like the mall.

Only time I've had an issue was when I went to this very hilly place where the ground sloped to the side and then she didn't want to brake.

The driving system means I can switch which hand I use plus my friend can walk next to me and maneuver me.

There's enough space by my feet that I can put my backpack there too.

It's fit in every car I've tried it in with just regular disassembly. Except my friend's dad's two seater car but then he disassembled it more using Tools™ and it fit.

It has good battery life, it hasn't run out on me.

The system for viewing how much battery you have left is bad though. It has 3 lights (red, orange, green) and supposedly the green turns off then the orange then the red and it's dead. But me and my friends can never figure out which lights are on and which are off.

It has a blue warning light which flashes in various sequences when something is wrong. I've had the scooter for several months and have never had it flash.

Fastest speed is 6km/h which is like someone jogging.

I got them to remove the beeping it makes when it reverses because that was Terrible.

The only customisation I've done to mine so far is put stickers that tell me which direction (forwards or backwards) the controls make it go. Because it's the opposite on the left and right. Which makes it easier if you want to swap hands or have a friend maneuver you but I need the stickers to tell me which way to push or pull the lever.

I am looking for ideas on how to customise her so please give suggestions. If anyone has suggestions on how to make the back rest taller that would be so appreciated.

Please include your own advice in the reblogs/replies. Looking forward to advice for future wheelchair users who need it.

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhADVL2AiGX-gwr9ekt_SJC-UcURkXCOP

That's a playlist from the british youtuber Jessica Kellgren-Fozard. It's 4 videos of her trying out and picking a mobility aid. Includes useful advice and tips. And then 1 excellent video talking about mobility aids and "giving up". That video was quite useful in convincing various family members that that was not what I was doing by getting my scooter.

My scooter's name is Atalanta after the woman from Greek mythology who could run faster than any man. I think I'm very funny.

My cane is in the background of some of the photos because I rest it next to my scooter.

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years ago

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Another idea for nightnurse!reader is Jason finds her brother (assuming you didn’t plan that to be a lie) and plans to scare him into leaving reader alone, but brother in such bad shape Jason gets him help instead

Jason's first memories were smells. Old garbage. Piss. Asphalt. Ancient beer dribbled out of crushed cans onto carpet. And cinnamon. From the candles his mother lit trying to make anything smell nice.

And every time he stalked the alleyways of Gotham, it was both bittersweet and home. Feelings he tried to shove out of the way. To keep in the disorganized corner of his mind where he kept things he didn't want to examine. Usually, it worked.

But not tonight.

As he stalked the streets, he turned a puzzle over in his mind. Discordant pieces. Things that looked like they fit and didn't. He was a detective. It came second nature. But looking at them- he realized how much he didn't know.

About you.

He knew you were no stranger to violence. Or drugs. Or pain. He knew you were cool under pressure. Caring. Compassionate. But- how had you gotten there?

There was a father listed on your birth certificate but that had been a dead end. The man had been dead for 10 years in a car accident. And your mother was alive but in jail, spending most of her time in solitary. So that left the brother. The one that cracked you in the face. The one that didn't, as far as Jason knew, know where you lived.

All his intel said he usually slept around here- in the illegal loft housing near the docks. So he should be here. Somewhere. His eyes narrowed and he scanned the dark places, looking for a heat signature.

If it hadn't been for the giggles of a couple working girls, he might have never found him. Filthy and taking a syringe from one of them, Jason cringed. "Alex!"

His bark sent the girls running and he let them go, watching as the kid swore and screamed after them. "God fucking damn it!" he growled pounding his fist against the brick of the building he was leaning on, "You got a fucking problem, man?"

"You Y/n's brother?" Jason asked, stepping out of the shadows, folding his arms.

"What of it," he said, holding his hands up when he realized the Red Hood was staring at him.

"You like smacking her around?" Jason challenged, teeth clenched, "You like-"

"She wouldn't give me any money," Alex snapped. "Told me she'd give me something to eat. Put me up in a motel for the night but the fucking cunt-"

Crack.

Before Alex could finish his tirade, Jason grabbed him by the front of his reeking sweater and shoved him against the wall, letting his head hit the brick. "You have two choices," Jason said, his voice dangerously soft, "You come with me and check yourself in for 60 days OR I take you to the GCPD and let them sort you out- either way. You ever put hands on your sister again and I'll snap your neck."

"What the fuck man," he whined, "All I wanted was money. She has-"

"Two. Choices." Jason ground out.

"The fuck?" The kid growled. "Take me to jail. I ain't sitting in a circle talking about shit man. The fuck does it matter-" He broke off and glared at Jason, "You fucking her or something?" he scoffed. "What's she owe you?"

"Jail it is," Jason said levelly, Dropping Alex and letting him fall in a heap on the ground.

"What fucking for?" he snorted.

"Solicitation, possession, battery, being a pain in the fucking ass-"

"Better than 60 days listening to people cry about their mommy issues," he said.

"Alex-"

"Fuck you man," he spat, "Just because you're fucking my sister doesn't mean you know shit. She owes me. It's her fucking fault."

"That you're living on the street and smell like piss?"

"It's all her fault," he said scowling. "Miss fucking perfect."

Jason frowned and typed out a message to Oracle. "Yeah. It's totally Y/N's fault. What, did she do better on the spelling tests or something? Get a little jealous, did we?"

"Ask her what she did," he growled. "Ask her why our mom is in jail."

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #night nurse!reader #ask answered #minors dni

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aelianated-star · 5 months ago

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I saw your dysautonomia post. I've been diagnosed for over a year and known for longer but my doctor keeps refusing to prescribe me a wheelchair despite the fact I can't walk further than down the hall without one. They keep trying to send me to physical therapy (only for one body part at a time due to insurance despite also having chronic pain evenly in my whole body and experiencing post-exertional malaise even from light physical therapy). Other than just finding a new doc, which I've been working on, do you have any advice for how to get a doc to actually prescribe the mobility aids you need?

(I am lucky enough to have a decently fitted one that I cannot self propel but can be pushed in, but my partner also has POTS so that's rarely an option and only for short trips (which only because in her own words hers is "better managed" than mine currently). But I really do need probably a motorized one at this point and I know other disabled people often know how exactly to get through to a doc so even if I can't convince my current doc I can hopefully use any tips when I find a new one.)

I wish I had better advice, but I would definitely look for educated physicians who are familiar with dysautonomia and fiddle around with medications (Corlanor/Ivabravine and infusions are the only things that has even helped remotely with mine). I had the same issue with a lot of doctors and was gaslit about not having EDS until my neurologist, shortly after diagnosing me with 3 types of dysautonomia, also diagnosed me with EDS (it was glaringly obvious apparently. I’m extremely hypermobile, can dislocate things on command and experience daily dislocations/subluxations, history of heart issues that he now escalated to four regurgitating valves, stretchy, velvety skin, strophic scarring, gastroparesis, at the time pending MCAS diagnosis, etc). If you can, there are organizations that will loan out wheelchairs for relatively cheap or free for people who need them, the difficulty is just finding one that’s near you or will ship to you! Also, I would definitely recommend a lightweight, motorized wheelchair or a regular wheelchair with motorized attachments like a smart drive or motorized wheels. The weight is going to be a big factor, especially if your partner is also disabled/chronically ill and you guys need to be able to transfer it into the car. I’m kinda in the same boat right now where even in a normal lightweight wheelchair (without motorization), my heart rate will get up to 200 and I can’t push myself for more than a minute really. I’ve been stuck using my forearm crutches to get around everywhere, but since that doesn’t do anything for my heart rate or blood pressure, I’m limited to doing anything (albeit not very much) to extremely good days. I’ll link some cheaper models below, and please feel free to dm me for more advice, I’m always happy to help other people out 🩵

#dysautonomia #inappropriate sinus tachycardia #orthostatic hypotension #rare disease #pots #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #ist #disabilties #severe disability #rare disability #ehlers danlos awareness #disabled #important #viralpost #information #advice

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angie-j-kay · 6 months ago

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Shoutout to the men at the auto mechanic tool shops who swear that the tools I have already been taught to use successfully are wrong for the automotive tech program I'm starting this fall at the local community college!

For the man at AutoZone who flat refused to tell me about the $80 tire ramps, rated for 16,000lbs, saying ramps were safety hazards, and that the only safe way to work under cars was the $5700 car lift that was only rated for 15,000lbs. I know cars are much lighter than that, but still.

And for the man at Harbor Freight who openly mocked me for wanting a breaker bar and lug nut sockets so I could help folks on the side of the road, swearing that professional tire places put so much torque on their lugs that I would never be able to replace a flat tire without the $60 battery-operated impact wrench and the $70 impact lug socket set. My dude, if they put that much torque on them, they'd strip out the threads. What the hell are you smoking?

(And a double shoutout to the very kind old man at Shawnee Trading Post and Flea Market in West Frankfort, IL, who so patiently looked at my supply list, helped me get an epic deal on a socket wrench set that fit my list's needs damn near perfectly, and agreed that when no woman you know feels safe going to a male mechanic, you become a female one. You keep that shit up. I shall return for future tool needs.)

#apparently Harbor Freight Guy was the manager who refused to even interview my husband for a job #my husband is raging right now about “HOW DO YOU FUCK UP CUSTOMER SERVICE THIS BADLY????”#feminism #women in stem #sexism #female mechanic #auto maintenance #misogyny #I promise that you don't need a penis to fix cars... they have wrenches now.

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i-am-still-bb · 1 year ago

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No. 27

“You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” | Matches | Scars | "Let me see."

Pairing: Fili/Kili (mentioned Kili/OMC) Rating: Teen AU: Fast Car (formerly Dead Batteries) - Ao3 / Tumblr Words: 1076

Warnings: self harm, scars

(and probably some typos and tense switching, I'll get around to fixing them after NaNo and before this goes up on Ao3)

There were scars on Kili’s arms.

They started out angry, red, and bleeding. He would press his fingers to them to distract him from his other feelings. The physical pain overwhelmed any and all thoughts including those about…

Kili dug a fingernail into one of the fresh scars and that thought stopped there. He most certainly did not follow that thread of thought and feeling to wonder what it would be like to…

No.

He wore long sleeves even when it was warm. When he was asked if he was hot he just shrugged and said no. And that was that.

Then the scars faded and no new wounds joined them. They faded to silver or a faint pink on his skin. And they were really only noticeable if someone were close and looking for them. Kili saw them. Sometimes they bothered him and he would wear long sleeves again, but mostly he forgot about them and no one asked.

Then Fili asked.

Fili had parked his car, the one that was held together with duct tape and hope, in its usual place near the shed. Hidden from the house by the shed, shielded from the neighbors by the tall wooden fence, and much warmer than the shed they sat in the car talking until they were not talking anymore.

Fili was sprawled on the back seat that was far too small for such a thing. His face was lit by the cool light of the security light that was on this side of the shed. Their cheeks were pink, eyes wide, and the windows of the car were fogged enough to filter that bright light to something that seemed to fit the mood. Kili had one hand planted on the seat next to Fili’s head, the other on Fili’s chest, a seatbelt buckle dug painfully into his knee.

Fili had taken hold of Kili’s wrist, eyes closed, with a sharp inhale. He turned his head and Kili’s inner forearm. Then his eyes widened and his brows furrowed. “What’s this?” He ran a finger over one of the scars.

Kili pulled his hand away, quickly shifting back and away from Fili until his back was pressed against the wall of the backseat with its small inset window and molded armrest. “Nothing.” Kili crossed his arms.

The light cast start shadows on their skin. Fili pushed himself up, his bare chest rising and falling steadily. He pulled one leg up to better balance on the narrow seat. “Let me…” he reached out and took hold of Kili’s hand, pulling Kili’s hand toward him and turning it so that his palm and inner arm faced up. Fili ducked forward to see them more closely. “Kili…” his voice was soft. “When did…” Fili ran a finger over the scars.

Kili twitched. “A long time ago.”

“When?”

Kili shrugged and looked past Fili to the fogged and smudged world through the back window. “Middle school, maybe Freshman year.”

“Do you do it now?”

“No.” Kili exhaled and looked at Fili again. “Not in a long time. I don’t really remember when I stopped, but it’s been years.”

“Will you tell me if you want to start again?” Fili asked quietly.

“I guess. If you want.”

“I do.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I missed it the first time.”

“I didn’t tell anyone.”

“But I’m your best friend. I should have known.”

“I’m not your responsibility,” Kili said. “I can take care of myself.”

“I want to help.”

“I know…” Kili relaxed, moved away from the molded plastic wall.

Fili had lifted Kili’s hand then and pressed a kiss to the palm and then moved to Kili’s wrist. He lingered on each scar, lips caressing the rough yet still sensitive skin. Kili shivered. It became a thing that Fili did regularly, a way of showing Kili that he was loved and accepted, even his darker parts.

And then there was the time when they were supposed to be doing their homework and Fili had started doodling on Kili’s arm instead. With a red pen he had drawn small hearts and flowers on the scars.

And then one time he had drawn stars and galaxies swirling across Kili’s skin with gel pens. He had used a silver one, highlighting the scars and turning them into something beautiful. Kili had not washed his arm for a week after that. He had traced over the silver glittering lines and not thought about the pain that had caused them in the first place.

After Kili left he had pressed fingernails into the scars again, remembering the pain, but he did not create any new wounds. He could only think of Fili’s sad and disappointed expression and that stayed his hand. The indentations from his fingernails faded quickly and eventually he had learned better coping skills. He started running, using a stationary rowing machine (a torture device that caused callouses and blisters that tore his hands apart), he wore a rubber band on his wrist to snap himself when he had the urge to harm himself—all things suggested by the school’s therapist.

And then he did not need them anymore. He did not have to remind himself to distract himself; it became a habit, just something that he did. On Fili’s birthday he would wake up early and go to the gym, he would make plans with friends. Later he would schedule meetings with the escort that he was seeing from time to time. But he did not have to remind himself to do any of those things anymore.

Now Kili does not even notice them or remember that they are there most of the time. Occasionally they itch and grow red and irritated, and sometimes they would catch in the light and were highlighted by the sun. He occasionally traced a finger over the thin lines and wonders if a tattoo could hide them, if he wants them hidden, and he feels regret for the boy he used to be, and glad that he lived to see himself get better.

And he no longer lied if anyone asked about them. Fili’s acceptance had made him feel less shame regarding the scars and how they came to be, and that was something Kili carried with him even though it was a decade later. And sometimes he wished he could thank Fili for all he had done and all the ways that Fili had healed him without even trying.

Taglist Everything @silvermoon-scrolls @metztliluaa-blog @i-am-pinkie

Fili/Kili @dubhlachen

#whumptober2023 #no. 27 #lyrics #scars #Let me see.#the hobbit #fic #self harm tw #bb writes #fili/kili #dead batteries au #fast car au

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steveramsdale · 2 months ago

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Blog Update (or Blogdate)

Blog Update (or Blogdate).

It was 10th December 2022 when I last blogged in the Teaching on the Naughty Steppe series. Much has happened since then, but no of it to me.

However, something has happened which bears on the Uzbekistan adventure story. As I was about to start typing this, in fact I was waiting for Word to open on my computer, and last minute, breaking piece of news came to me, and I will tell you what that was in due course, at the right time.

The events in question concern Муниса that’s the VW character who made many appearances in the blog that used to disturb Saturday mornings between 2016 and 2020. I am sure you’ll remember that, after a few adventures around Tashkent and (memorably) Kazakhstan, she came to Derbyshire and lived a quiet life with me here.

For about 9 months, she was left in our storage place where the caravan was usually kept. (I’m switching to ‘it’ now.) During this time, we realised that we were not using, and probably not going to use it and that we should sell it to someone who would.

Therefore, I advertised it, a couple of people came to look. One of them bought it for just under the asking price. And that’s that. No. Of course it isn’t. It couldn’t be. I could still have spun that in to another (pointless) blog, but the real story is more interesting.

So, a few weeks ago, after we had sold the caravan, we went to the storage yard and brought it home. Of course, the battery was completely dead but I had taken a charged one we happened to have and was able to start it up. Of course, the indicators were not working so getting the five or so miles home was fun. After a really good clean inside and out, it was time to advertise. I also bought a new battery but they only had quite a small one that could not be secured properly in the bay. The van still had a valid MOT until 1st September and I planned to try to get a new one.

There was some initial interest at a fair price for a running, MOTd vanand after a week or two someone came to look. They (a father and son) had a good look around and the time for a test drive arrived. I was driving with the son who was the interested party when the gear stick snapped right at the bottom. The father drove up to where we were and he was able to get it in to second gear and I drove home. The father pointed out a small hole in a sill near the back and said it might well be an MOT fail as it was near a structural part. Interestingly, they said they’d have to go and think about it and I have never heard from them again.

A few days later, I got a message from a man in Portugal asking about it. I’d made an MOT appointment but couldn’t go, obviously. So I explained all of this to the man (Luis). He did not seem put off by this. He has many classic cars at his home and works on them himself. He also has another, similar VW and said he could bring the gear stick from that and fit it on my drive. I told him that without the MOT, he would not be able to drive it – he planned to drive it back to Portugal. I did what I could to dissuade he but he was undeterred, booked a flight and transferred a deposit.

On Thursday of this week (18th) he arrived and I picked him up from Birmingham airport. To make the story more interesting, he has some mobility issues and uses crutches, so I couldn’t leave him to navigate the railway system!

Back here, we got to work on the gear stick – I say ‘we’ but I was just passing screwdrivers and such like. I had also told him about the indicators and that the MOT (booked for Friday) might throw up other issues. However, the indicators had started working again. All seemed to be going well. The gear stick was a fairly easy fit and worked well. I had charged the old battery that fitted properly and drove up with that.

Early Friday morning, I drove the short distance to the garage for the MOT and asked if they could fix anything minor. They said they were very busy but might be able to do anything really minor.

Around 10am, someone called to say the accelerator was not working. I said that it had been when I drove it up to them! They had a good look and found that a small rod from the pedal to the throttle cable seemed to have rotted. They would be able to do the MOT but not fix that. I knew I could get it home on the revs of the engine in reverse and first gear and down the hill but the sale seemed to be in jeopardy.

When I went to collect it, it had passed the MOT with them having fixed the fog light switch! They also said they had been able to get the rod back in the right place so I could drive normally. We were back on track – except they were using a boost pack and told me the battery was dead!

After all of this, Luis and I drove to the petrol station to fill up. I had given him the 25l fuel carrier I had bought in Tashkent. We filled the tank and put 15l in the container and drove home. He had some concerns about the alternator and testing the voltage (he had a device that plugged in to the cigarette lighter) seemed to show it was not charging the battery properly. We left a charger on the small, new battery overnight and Luis planned to leave early Saturday morning so he could drive in the light and not worry about the headlights draining the battery. We loaded everything in the car and he asked me to make sure he was up early.

Sure enough, by 7am we had removed the charger, closed up the engine and he was in the driver’s seat and I was ready to wave. After a few minutes, nothing seemed to be happening and I went to the window. He said that the battery was dead and the accelerator pedal had gone again. There would be no departure any time soon. I should say that I was experiencing very unfamiliar (to me) high anxiety this whole time. Not surprising perhaps, but not something I’m used to.

So…...we had to go to Halfords and buy an appropriately sized battery and find a small part for the alternator. One shop said they could get this by 1pm which was a relief. Returning home, we fitted the new battery and put the small less new one on charge as a spare. Luis did some research on how the accelerator pedal was supposed to work and went under to see what was going on. He dismantled part of it, we straighten and cleaned bits and put it back together. He then noticed that the pedal inside was almost broken. This could be the reason the rod was coming off – if the pedal was moving sideways. We decided that the only thing we could do (apart from order a new one and wait a few days until it came) was do and Uzbek-style repair. This involved putting some very strong tape around the cracking part then drilling small holes to thread cable ties through to strengthen it more. Luis was actually happy with this.

I collected the alternator part and that was fitted easily (enough). The voltage device was still showing low voltage and charging. I suggested we try connecting the 12v plug to a different point in the fuse box – I had fitted this cigarette lighter in Uzbekistan and it was sharing a connection with the headlights and only worked when they were on! A new slot was selected and suddenly the reading was good and showed that the alternator was working properly.

So, Sunday morning was now the departure time! We took Luis out to our favourite local pub/restaurant which he loved. I went to bed a little less anxious but still fearing a new or recurring problem in the morning.

This morning arrived – as it was always going to and I had to wake Luis just before 7am. We went through a similar routine to Saturday but this time, the engine started first time and Luis drove away. Amazingly (to me anyway) he had come to the UK without bringing a phone he could use on UK networks. We were not going to hear anything unless he found wifi.

The breaking news? As I was about to start typing this story I got a message from Luis. He is on the ferry in Dover waiting to set off to Calais. He said the sliding door had popped open a couple of times (scary) but the battery, engine, accelerator etc have been fine. He has several hundred miles still to go to his home in Portugal – the story is not over, therefore. I will update you when he gets there.

This seems, though, to be a fitting end to my part in the van’s story. I could have sold it to someone 50 miles away who could have brought a trailer to get it and used it here after fixing everything. That would not have fitted with the story so far. Luis wants the van to go to Morocco and sort out some business there – so another new continent awaits.

I hope you agree that this story was worth telling. Should anything else interesting happen in this or any other context, I may venture into the blogosphere again!

Bye.

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batterydealernearme · 2 months ago

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philiproy1 · 2 months ago

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Top Mobile Auto Mechanic Near Me: Maven Mechanics Lehi Has You Covered

In today's fast-paced world, convenience and efficiency are more important than ever, especially when it comes to vehicle maintenance and repair. If you’re searching for a reliable and top-notch mobile auto mechanic near you, Maven Mechanics Lehi is your go-to solution. Our expert mobile mechanics offer a wide range of services designed to meet your auto repair needs without the hassle of traditional shop visits. In this post, we'll explore the benefits of choosing a mobile auto mechanic, how Maven Mechanics Lehi stands out in the field, and why our services are the best choice for your vehicle care.

The Rise of Mobile Auto Mechanics

The concept of mobile auto mechanics is revolutionizing the way we think about car maintenance and repair. Gone are the days when you had to wait at a repair shop or arrange for a tow truck to get your car to a service center. Mobile auto mechanics bring their expertise directly to your location, providing a range of services right at your doorstep. This innovative approach not only saves you time but also adds a layer of convenience to your vehicle maintenance routine.

Benefits of Choosing a Mobile Auto Mechanic

Convenience and Time-Saving One of the most significant advantages of mobile auto mechanics is the convenience they offer. You no longer need to take time off work or rearrange your schedule to get your car serviced. Our mobile mechanics come to you, whether you're at home, at work, or even stranded on the side of the road. This means you can continue with your day without the interruption of a traditional repair shop visit.

Personalized Service Mobile auto mechanics provide a more personalized service compared to traditional repair shops. Since we come to your location, we can offer a one-on-one consultation and detailed explanation of the work needed. This personalized approach helps in building trust and ensures that all your questions and concerns are addressed thoroughly.

Reduced Costs By eliminating the overhead costs associated with maintaining a physical repair shop, mobile mechanics can offer competitive pricing on services. Additionally, you save on towing costs and other related expenses. Maven Mechanics Lehi passes these savings directly to you, providing top-quality service at a more affordable rate.

Immediate Assistance Mobile auto mechanics can provide immediate assistance in emergencies. Whether you have a flat tire, a dead battery, or other urgent issues, our team at Maven Mechanics Lehi is equipped to handle various roadside repairs efficiently, ensuring you’re back on the road as quickly as possible.

Flexible Scheduling With mobile mechanics, scheduling your vehicle’s

service is more flexible. You can choose a time that fits your schedule, even outside regular business hours. This flexibility is particularly beneficial for busy professionals, parents, or anyone with a tight schedule. Maven Mechanics Lehi understands the importance of accommodating your needs and offers flexible appointment times to ensure we can serve you when it's most convenient for you.

Why Maven Mechanics Lehi is Your Best Choice

At Maven Mechanics Lehi, we pride ourselves on being a leading provider of mobile auto mechanic services. Here's why we stand out from the rest:

Expert Technicians Our team of mobile mechanics is highly trained and experienced in handling a wide range of vehicle issues. From routine maintenance like oil changes and brake repairs to more complex problems, our technicians have the skills and knowledge to get the job done right. We stay updated with the latest automotive technology and techniques to ensure that we provide the highest quality of service.

State-of-the-Art Equipment Maven Mechanics Lehi uses state-of-the-art diagnostic tools and equipment to ensure accurate and efficient repairs. Our mobile units are fully equipped with all the necessary tools and parts to handle most repair and maintenance tasks on-site. This means we can diagnose and fix issues quickly, minimizing the downtime for your vehicle.

Transparent Pricing We believe in transparency and honesty when it comes to pricing. Before starting any work, we provide a detailed estimate of the costs involved. There are no hidden fees or surprises, so you know exactly what to expect. Our goal is to build trust with our clients by offering fair and competitive pricing for all our services.

Comprehensive Services Maven Mechanics Lehi offers a comprehensive range of mobile auto repair services, including but not limited to:

Engine diagnostics and repair

Transmission service

Brake repair and replacement

Battery replacement and charging system checks

Tire repair and replacement

Oil changes and fluid top-ups

Whether it’s a simple fix or a more complex repair, our mobile mechanics are equipped to handle it all efficiently and effectively.

Customer-Centric Approach Our commitment to customer satisfaction is at the core of our business. We strive to provide exceptional service that not only meets but exceeds your expectations. Our mobile mechanics are courteous, professional, and dedicated to ensuring that you have a positive experience with us. We understand the importance of your vehicle in your daily life, and we work hard to get you back on the road as soon as possible.

How to Get Started with Maven Mechanics Lehi

Getting started with Maven Mechanics Lehi is simple. If you're in need of a mobile auto mechanic near you, follow these easy steps:

Contact Us: Call us at (801) 210-9233 to schedule an appointment. Our friendly staff will assist you in setting up a convenient time for our mobile mechanic to visit your location.

Describe Your Issue: Provide us with details about your vehicle's issue or the type of service you require. This helps us prepare the necessary tools and parts for your specific needs.

Receive a Quote: We’ll provide you with an estimate of the costs involved. Once you approve the estimate, we’ll dispatch our mobile mechanic to your location.

Enjoy the Service: Our skilled technician will arrive at the scheduled time, perform the required repairs or maintenance, and ensure that your vehicle is in top condition before leaving.

When it comes to finding the best mobile auto mechanic near you, Maven Mechanics Lehi is the clear choice. Our commitment to convenience, expertise, and customer satisfaction ensures that you receive top-quality service right at your doorstep. From routine maintenance to emergency repairs, our mobile mechanics are equipped to handle all your auto needs efficiently and effectively.

Don’t let vehicle issues disrupt your day. Contact Maven Mechanics Lehi at (801) 210-9233 to experience the convenience and reliability of our mobile auto mechanic services. We’re here to make your life easier and keep your vehicle running smoothly, no matter where you are.

Maven Mechanics

3451 W Colony Cove, Lehi, UT, 84043

801-210-9233

#Mobile Auto Mechanic Near Me #Brake Repair Near Me #Auto Repair Lehi Utah

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