#Remote Asset Management

[customiotsolutions]

Revolutionizing Operations in the Oil & Gas Industry through IoT Solutions

The Oil & Gas industry grapples with multifaceted challenges, ranging from remote asset management to regulatory compliance and environmental stewardship. Effective and efficient addressing of these challenges is imperative for sustaining operational excellence and ensuring sustainable growth. In recent years, the integration of IoT solutions has emerged as a transformative force, empowering companies to overcome these obstacles and revolutionize their operational practices.

Remote Monitoring and Asset Management

One of the core challenges faced by the Oil & Gas industry revolves around the geographic dispersion of critical assets, making efficient monitoring and maintenance a complex endeavor. IoT solutions play a pivotal role in addressing this challenge through the establishment of real-time asset monitoring systems. By deploying IoT-enabled sensors, companies can remotely track the performance and condition of equipment and infrastructure located in remote, inaccessible areas. This proactive approach empowers them to detect anomalies, assess asset health, and schedule preventive maintenance in a timely manner, consequently enhancing operational efficiency and minimizing costly downtime.

Safety and Compliance

Safety and regulatory compliance represent non-negotiable aspects of operations within the Oil & Gas industry. The intrinsic hazardous nature of the sector demands rigorous protocols for risk management and occupational safety. IoT solutions offer a game-changing approach to addressing safety and compliance challenges by facilitating real-time environmental monitoring and ensuring adherence to stringent safety standards. Through the deployment of IoT sensors, companies can continuously assess environmental parameters, equipment integrity, and worker safety in potentially hazardous areas. This data-driven approach allows for the proactive identification of potential risks, enabling the implementation of preventive measures to mitigate hazards and uphold a safe working environment, thereby reinforcing regulatory compliance.

Predictive Maintenance

Unplanned equipment failures and subsequent downtime pose significant operational and financial challenges for Oil & Gas companies. Addressing this issue through traditional approaches often falls short in preventing disruptive equipment failures. However, the application of IoT-driven predictive maintenance strategies presents a transformative solution to this challenge. By harnessing data collected from IoT sensors installed on critical equipment, companies can leverage predictive analytics to forecast potential failures and performance degradation. This data-driven approach empowers companies to schedule maintenance activities adeptly, preemptively addressing issues before they escalate, thereby minimizing operational disruptions, optimizing asset performance, and reducing maintenance costs.

Environmental Monitoring

Environmental conservation has emerged as a pivotal focus area for the Oil & Gas industry, mandating robust measures to monitor and mitigate environmental impact. IoT solutions offer a comprehensive framework for environmental monitoring, encompassing emissions tracking, air quality assessments, and water level monitoring. By leveraging IoT sensors and monitoring devices, companies can systematically track their environmental footprint, proactively identifying potential environmental risks, and implementing mitigation measures. This approach not only assists in complying with stringent environmental regulations but also serves as a testament to the industry’s commitment to sustainable and responsible operational practices.

Supply Chain Optimization

Efficient supply chain management stands as a linchpin for operational efficiency and cost optimization within the Oil & Gas industry. Leveraging IoT-driven supply chain solutions, companies can attain real-time visibility into inventory levels, transportation logistics, and supplier performance. This proactive approach to supply chain management empowers companies to streamline operations, reduce inventory costs, enhance transportation efficiency, and optimize procurement processes. As a result, companies attain greater resilience and agility within their supply chain, ensuring seamless operations and cost-effective management of resources.

The Role of IoT in Oil & Gas Industry Transformation

In the era of digital transformation, the integration of IoT solutions has emerged as a cornerstone of operational revitalization within the Oil & Gas industry. By deploying IoT solutions for remote monitoring, safety and compliance, predictive maintenance, environmental stewardship, and supply chain optimization, companies not only mitigate immediate operational challenges but also establish a solid foundation for sustainable growth and resilience. The amalgamation of IoT technologies with traditional operational frameworks amplifies the industry’s capacity to adapt, innovate, and thrive in a dynamic and challenging global landscape.

In essence, the adoption of IoT solutions stands as a pivotal driver of transformation, facilitating enhanced operational efficiency, risk mitigation, and sustainability within the Oil & Gas industry. As companies continue to leverage IoT technologies to address multifaceted challenges, they are not only revolutionizing their own operations but also charting a course toward a leaner, safer, and more sustainable future.

[cyberswift-story]

Understanding the Importance of Water Utility Surveys

Water is a fundamental resource that sustains life, and the infrastructure supporting its supply and distribution is a critical component of urban and rural development. A water utility survey plays a pivotal role in ensuring the efficient and sustainable management of water resources.

Learn more at https://www.cyberswift.com/blog/water-utility-solution-detailed-overview/

[automotiveera]

Smart Shipping Containers Market Will Touch USD 15,341.5 Million by 2030

The smart shipping container market was USD 3,971.2 million in 2022, and it will touch USD 15,341.5 million, propelling at a 18.4% compound annual growth rate, by 2030.

The growth of the industry is mainly attributed to the temperature regulation, enhance security measures, and real-time GPS tracking capabilities these containers offer. Moreover, because of the quick technological advancements in AI, IoT, big data analysis, and communication, the industry will further advance in the years to come.

Based on offering, the hardware category accounted for the largest smart shipping container market share, approximately 50%, and it will advance at the highest growth rate in coming years, because of the widespread adoption of various components for tracking and monitoring applications.

Based on technology, the industry is dominated by GPS due to its role in package monitoring and tracking.

Moreover, the quick implementation of the Bluetooth Low Energy (BLE) technology is because of the rising IoT devices implementation, which necessitates effective communication.

Additionally, the long-range wide area network (LoRa WAN) category will advance at the highest rate in the years to come. This is mainly because of the benefit of LoRa WAN as compared to other technologies, for instance, BLE and Wi-Fi.

Based on vertical, the food & beverage category will advance at the highest compound annual growth rate, of over 20%. This is attributed to the growing requirement for packaged food and perishable. Individuals are shifting their focus towards ready-to-eat food from homemade food, which is boosting the requirement for smart marine transportation solutions for edibles.

In 2022, the smart shipping containers industry is led by Europe, with a share of approximately 40%. This is because of the existence of numerous major industry players providing enhanced software and IoT sensors integrated hardware for effective analytics of data.

[heliads]

Hello im so glad it’s open. Hiccup x reader when the reader is afraid of dragon and she is a Viking that try to not to be vulnerable and strong but hiccup could see right trough her. Sort of enemy to lovers (reader mostly) and the end Toothlees love her.

Thank you 🙏 😍🥰🥰

'we'll be brave together' - hiccup haddock

masterlist

Hiccup is returning from a wild dragon ride through the clouds when he realizes that he might finally know the secret of the bravest Viking Berk has ever seen.

It’s not like he’s the first one who’s tried to parse out the details of Y/N L/N. There’s hardly a soul in the village who hasn’t. Y/N has been the strongest of the strong, the fastest of the fast, ever since she started training. Everyone their age either wants to be her or beat her, and neither option is remotely reasonable.

Hiccup is no stranger to Y/N’s reputation. How could he not? She started training to fight dragons a year early, purely because it was so obvious she would be an asset to Berk that the elders couldn’t wait to put her out there. She’s been saving lives since she was small. Hiccup wouldn’t be surprised if her first words as a child were a rallying call to arms.

Courage inspires courage, but it’s impossible to see someone that naturally good at everything without trying to find some chink in the armor, a way, no matter how miniscule, to prove that they’re still human. Still like you. But no matter how hard people search, Y/N still seems relentlessly, impossibly perfect. Sure, she has her off days, just like anyone else, but she’s so good that it doesn’t even seem to matter. There has to be something off, but no one else can figure it out.

Except Hiccup, maybe. Probably not, but maybe. Hiccup’s no stranger to the maybes of the world. He’s proven quite a lot of them in his time. Maybe Hiccup, skinny, clumsy Hiccup, could manage to do well in the dragon fighting classes. Maybe he could save Berk from threats. Maybe he could do a decent job of governing a tumultuous group of Vikings on one of the most inhabitable rocks known to man. And maybe, just maybe, he could find the loophole in Y/N L/N’s otherwise flawless streak of victories.

Hiccup only gets the idea when he’s touching down from another dizzying flight. No matter how many times he and Toothless take to the skies, it never gets old. Somehow, each and every time Hiccup and his dragon leave the world behind, chase the stars, shoot the breeze, it feels like Hiccup’s very first time up in the air. The majesty never leaves him.

And so Hiccup was very reluctantly starting to plan out his landing when he saw Y/N below him. Ax in hand, she was probably coming back from yet another round in the training grounds, and judging by the cocky grin on her face, she’d probably been very triumphant yet again. She had a victorious bounce to her step, and as she headed back to her house, it seemed as if nothing could happen to break the young woman’s stride.

Nothing, that is, until Toothless swooped in low from the side, casting his shadow upon the ground where Y/N walked. She had done her best to hide it, but Hiccup had seen it– an uncontrollable flinch, a quick jerk of her head towards the sky to assess the threat, and then, so foreign to him that Hiccup almost wondered if he had mistook another girl for Y/N, a spark of fear in her eyes.

Fear. In Y/N L/N. It made no sense. Hiccup has never known Y/N to be afraid. Not even when facing off against Vikings twice her height. It’s as if the word has simply never entered her vocabulary. Yet the memory of Y/N’s reaction to the arrival of Toothless is burned into Hiccup’s memory as if by a brand. Yes, there’s no doubt about it. Y/N was afraid.

This should mean nothing at all. Berk, although recently accustomed to think of dragons in friendlier terms, has been an enemy of the scaly fliers for as long as Hiccup can remember. A recent change in their mindset would not substantially change their long term memory, which firmly cements dragons as a dangerous enemy. Of course anyone would flinch upon seeing a dragon suddenly emerge from the clouds, especially a Night Fury.

But Y/N isn’t just anyone. Now that he comes to think of it, Y/N has been rather separate from the rest of Berk regarding her reaction to dragons descending upon the village. She has yet to adopt a dragon, claiming that she’d rather prove her skill as a Viking by herself instead of needing to depend on a dragon to do the work for her. And back before Hiccup even crossed paths with Toothless at all, he has memories of Y/N during her dragon training days, how she used to completely lock down her emotions, facing the dragons when required but never so much as looking at them unless she absolutely had to do so.

It couldn’t be, yet it is. The more Hiccup thinks about it, the more he’s certain it’s true. Y/N is afraid of dragons. Not just Hiccup’s dragon, all dragons. Hiccup feels a sudden rush of sympathy for the woman. Although she’s as proud and brave as any, being around the thing she fears the most day in and day out must be taking a toll on her spirits.

And so, although it’s probably a terrible decision, Hiccup makes up his mind to help her as best he can. They’ve never really been friends, in fact, quite the opposite; Y/N was in accordance with the typical Berk mindset that Hiccup was a nuisance since he didn’t quite think like the rest of the Vikings, and they’ve clashed over that ever since. However, Hiccup remembers quite painfully what it was like to fear what everyone else seemed to embrace, and it’s a nasty feeling. Y/N doesn’t deserve to suffer through that, even if their relationship hasn’t always been the sunniest.

True to form, Y/N is glaring at him from the moment she opens her door to find Hiccup smiling awkwardly at her from the front step. “What do you want?” She asks crossly, making it obvious that she has far better things to do than entertain him.

Hiccup grins weakly. “I think I can help you.”

Y/N raises a dubious brow, taking an obvious glance over Hiccup. “You do? With what, philosophy?”

Hiccup forces a chuckle. “Maybe some other time. No, I’m talking about your, ah, dragon problem.”

If there was any doubt in Hiccup’s mind that Y/N was really afraid of dragons, it is completely erased from the moment he brings up the subject. Immediately, her entire expression ices over, but even as her glare sharpens in value, he spots something bright behind her mask, something like fear. She really doesn’t want anyone figuring out, does she?

Y/N glances around quickly to make sure no one could have possibly overheard, then quickly jerks her chin towards the inside of her house. “Fine. Come in.”

Inwardly, Hiccup cheers. He wasn’t entirely certain that she wouldn’t do something drastic to protect her secret, like stab him in the back or shove him into the sea. He still runs the risk of being poisoned, but he figures he’s safe from that so long as he doesn’t eat or drink anything while he’s here.

Once they’re both sitting opposite each other across her wooden table, Y/N fixes him with a steely gaze. “Start talking. How did you know that I–”

Her voice trails off, but Hiccup can guess she’s talking about her fear of dragons. “I only figured it out recently, honest. I had no idea until just now. No one would guess.”

“Yeah, I try to keep it that way,” Y/N remarks dryly. “But you could tell?”

“You don’t like Toothless,” Hiccup explains. “And yeah, he is a Night Fury, and that takes a little while to get over, but most people in the village consider him an ally by now.”

“Except me,” Y/N supplies, glancing towards the table.

“Yeah,” Hiccup agrees. “Except you. Plus, the hesitance to get a dragon of your own.”

“No Viking should accept a dragon unless they can defend themselves!” Y/N argues. “Otherwise, you’ll leave yourself stranded in case something happens. It would be a monumentally stupid risk to take.”

“I feel like that’s a really targeted comment,” Hiccup complains, “but yeah, even with that argument, it made sense once I connected the dots. You’re afraid of dragons.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow. “Did you just come here to hold that over me? What is this, blackmail?”

Not a fan of the way she’s eyeing the carving knife near her place at the table, Hiccup hastily raises his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey. Hey. No blackmail. That wouldn’t be very, uh, Viking of me. Where’s the strength in that? And you know I’m all about strength. And courage. Lots of courage. In fact, that’s why I came here today. I want to help you get over your fear.”

Y/N looks at him doubtfully, but at least she’s stopped inching her hand towards the carving knife. “You want to help me.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup replies earnestly, “I do. It’s better for all of us if we don’t have to feel like we’re hiding things. So? Will you let me help you?”

Y/N stares at him for a long time. At last, she jerks her head up and down in a sharp nod and says, “I will.”

Hiccup claps his hands together excitedly before pushing away from the table. “Perfect. I already have a first lesson in mind.”

Y/N looks substantially less inclined to trust him when she realizes that her first lesson involves getting to know Toothless on a far more personal level. “I thought we were going to ease into this. Like talking about it or something.”

Hiccup shakes his head. They’re both walking through the forest, crunching leaves and stepping over fallen boughs on their way to meet up with the Night Fury. “Not a chance. You don’t gain anything from talking. Besides, I figured you’re the kind of person who likes action over sitting around.”

“I do when it doesn’t involve dragons,” Y/N mutters from somewhere behind him.

Hiccup just grins. “You’ll like Toothless if you give him a chance, honestly.”

They emerge into a clearing. Toothless is curled up in the center, soaking in the sunlight. Immediately, Y/N freezes behind him. Now that she doesn’t have to try and hide from him, Hiccup can see firsthand how bad her fear truly is. Y/N’s eyes are wide, and her breath seems caught in her throat. She seems unable to move a single step.

Hiccup comes back to her side. “Do you trust me?” He asks plainly.

“I think,” she whispers back, her eyes still firmly fixed on the resting dragon in front of her.

“That’s fine,” Hiccup tells her. “At least believe me when I say there’s absolutely no chance that I’d let you get hurt. It would look awful if a chieftain’s son got his best fighter killed by his own dragon, wouldn’t it? You know it’s my responsibility to lead Berk, do you really think I’d risk my popularity by getting you murdered?”

“I trust that,” she admits, and lets Hiccup lead her further into the clearing, until she’s right in front of the dragon.

Sensing visitors, Toothless pokes his head up, exhaling a soft snort from his nose. Y/N flinches back from the movement, but to her credit, she doesn’t try to run.

“This is Y/N,” Hiccup tells Toothless. “You two are going to get to know each other, alright?”

Toothless regards Y/N with faint curiosity. Hiccup reaches out and presses a quiet hand to the dragon’s snout. “Now it’s your turn, alright?” He tells Y/N.

Y/N shakes her head quietly. “There’s no way I’m touching the dragon.”

“He’s not going to hurt you,” Hiccup promises. “Come on, we’ll do it together.”

He takes his hand away from Toothless’ snout and presses his palm against the top of Y/N’s hand. Slowly, carefully, he moves their hands together until they’re both resting against Toothless’ snout. Y/N breathes out once, a great sigh, but doesn’t move. Carefully, Hiccup takes his hand away, and then it’s just Y/N and the dragon. Toothless leans slightly forward into the touch. Hiccup waits for something to happen, for Y/N to flinch away again or give in to her fear, but instead, a shaky smile crosses her face.

“He’s nice,” she says.

Hiccup pulls a face. “He’s only trying to impress you.”

Even his feigned irritation can’t last for long. At the sight of the quiet joy on Y/N’s face, Hiccup can’t help but smile as well.

“What’s my next lesson?” Y/N asks.

“Flying,” Hiccup says. “Do you feel ready for that?”

Y/N glances back towards him, a cross look on her face. “I’m a Viking. I’m ready for anything.”

She laughs, though, and so does he. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Hiccup climbs onto Toothless, then extends a hand to help Y/N up as well. Toothless, to his credit, is quite gentle when going airborne, although Y/N still holds tight onto Hiccup just in case. He’s not sure that he minds, though. She doesn’t, either, because she keeps holding onto him, even after the flying turns smooth, even after the colors around them flit from saturation to saturation, as clouds frost their vision and the air grows cold from height.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Y/N announces as they soar over the sea. “Nothing about this is scary. I can’t believe I waited this long to figure that out.”

“It grows on you, doesn’t it?” Hiccup remarks. “All of a sudden, it’s the only thing you want to do.”

“Yeah,” Y/N says. “Exactly like that.”

When he looks back at her, Y/N’s expression is soft and sweet. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her like this, unafraid to be vulnerable, to let her real self shine through. 

“Thanks for helping me,” she says quietly.

“Any time,” Hiccup promises, and he realizes he means it.

She smiles. “You have to be careful, I might take you up on that offer.”

Hiccup meets her gaze, and finds nothing but happiness there. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Below them, the waves surge, and the birds swoop. They fly on forever.

requested by @hope92100, i hope you enjoy!

disney tag list: @avadakadabra93, @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @faerieroyal, @goldfish4403

[aceviscontiswife]

I'm really new to Dead by Daylight and I'm really enjoying your fics. So, story prompt:

Reader is a survivor who was just gifted a new outfit by the entity that, unknown to reader includes a pair of remote control vibrating panties. Then reader shows up in a trial with the killer who reader has been flirting with and secretly crushing on and killer (who flirts right back and also has a crush on reader) finds a mysterious remote in their pocket.

I'd love Danny and Frank (separately, please) and anyone else you feel like writing.)

Survivor!Reader wearing remote controlled vibrating panties in a trial

Killers: Danny (Ghostface), Frank (Legion), Wesker.

Afab!Reader. Warnings: petnames such as dollface, babygirl, babe, and dearest. Vibrating panties (that reader was not aware of), masturbation, Wesker’s a bit of an ass at first.

•When you wake up in the cornfields of Coldwind, you don’t suspect anything at first. You were loving your new outfit, it fit you perfectly and showed off your assets. You were hoping to see Ghostface this trial, since you knew this outfit would probably send him into overdrive.

•Its only when you begin to work on a generator when you feel a light vibration against your womanhood. It sends a tingle down your spine and straight to your core. Your thighs press together in an attempt to conceal the steadily growing arousal, but it only seems to make it stronger. You had no idea what was causing this, but it had to be some cruel prank of the entity’s.

•Danny was a little confused when he found the small remote in his pocket, and after a few seconds of staring down at the remote in his hand, he pressed one of the buttons.

•It didn’t take Danny very long to find you, all by yourself, wearing the sexiest clothes Danny’s ever seen. That alone was enough to get him hard, but what he saw next nearly sent him insane. You slapped a hand over your mouth, your thighs squirming against each other as you moan against your hand. You could barely even work on the generator… That’s when Danny put two and two together, and oh man, you were in for a treat.

“Oh, dollface…” You whip around to face where the voice—Danny’s voice came from. He was standing behind you, leaning against a stack of crates with a small remote in his hand. You begin to speak, but your words are taken from you and replaced with a gasp as Danny presses one of the remotes buttons, the vibrating sensation in your panties growing even stronger. Danny laughed at the sight, pushing himself off of the crates and taking a step towards you. “Looks like the entity gave us both a gift, hmm?” Danny watches you grab onto the generator to support yourself, a strangled moan escaping your lips as he cranks up the vibrations to their highest setting. “I say we enjoy our treat.”

•When Frank found a small remote in his pocket, he immediately did what anyone would’ve done—he pressed the buttons. All of them.

•Needless to say, you were caught off guard when a there sudden strong vibrating sensation in your panties. It was a lot, also very confusing. After a few seconds, you had grown used to the sensations. It didn’t take long until you were rendered into a hazy, pleasure-filled state of bliss.

•You barely managed to get yourself to the killer shack, leaning against one of the lockers and biting down on your hand to keep quiet. Your free hand was shoved up your shirt, teasing your breasts through your bra.

•That’s how Frank found you, his eyes going wide behind the mask and his cock twitching in his pants as he watched you touch yourself. Your hips were grinding up into the air, and it was only when Frank heard a faint buzzing did he realize what was going on. It was like a flip of a switch, Frank went from shocked and a little confused to very turned on and very aware of what he was doing to you. Trial be damned, Frank was going to enjoy this alot more than killing some idiotic survivors.

“Fuck, babygirl… You couldn’t wait till the trial was over, could you?” You stop in your tracks when you hear Frank, your eyes snapping open to be met with the sight of Frank leaning against shacks doorway, remote in hand. He shakes his head when you stop, pressing one of the buttons on the remote and amplifying the vibrations in your panties. “Didn’t say you could stop, did I?” Frank groans when you begin to touch yourself again, the masked killer reaching down to rub his cock through his jeans. “Good girl… You want me to make it feel even better? I can make you feel amazing, babe.”

•At first, Wesker ignored the small remote in his pocket. He had a job to do, after all. The only distraction he allowed was you, anything else was simply not important to him. It was soon becoming hard to ignore, however, and Wesker angrily admits to himself that he needed to see what this remote did. Maybe it was a gift from the entity? Something to help him out in trials? Wesker was one of the entity’s strongest and smartest killers, he’s earned himself a reward.

•When Wesker eventually presses one of the buttons and nothing happens, he’s a… little upset. How dare the entity give him some useless piece of garbage? He was Albert Wesker, the Mastermind, not one of the Legion’s immature teenagers!

•If only he could’ve seen how you almost folded in on yourself when a surprising, strong feeling of vibrations began to surge through your panties. A gasp escapes your lips, ultimately catching the attention of your concerned teammates. You lie, telling them ‘You thought you saw the killer.’

•You’re barely able to complete the generator with your team, quickly coming up with some excuse to separate from your team, sneaking off to a secluded area of the map to deal with yourself.

•Wesker could hear faint moaning and panting coming from the Garden of Joy’s dark bedroom, and believing it to be an injured survivor, he quickly makes his way to the bedroom. What he saw inside the room wasn’t an injured survivor, it was you. Oh… that’s what the remote does? Wesker was quick to realize what was going on when he saw you on the rundown bed, hands covering your mouth and your hips jerking up into the air. He laughs, catching your attention.

“So this is what you do instead of helping your team? Tsk, so predictable.” You couldn’t stop the shameless moan that left you, as well as the breathless pleads for Wesker to help you out. He was enjoying this more than he’d admit… the sight of you like this was something Wesker had wanted to see for some while now, and it only made him even more aroused to know that he was the cause of your overwhelming pleasure. “Already so overstimulated and you haven’t even been touched…” Wesker laughs, shaking his head and taking a step towards you. “Come here, dearest… This is only the beginning.”

***

I actually had a lot of fun writing this! It was new for me, and I honestly loved it :) Hope you enjoy, love ya! ❤️

[meazalykov]

renewal

sydney lohmann x bayern!reader

summary: the latest transfer window was scary for you and your girlfriend

you’re one of the best, if not the best, attacking midfielders for bayern munich. one of the highest valued players in the women's bundesliga, for a player that isn’t german herself. your skills and loyalty for the badge have made you a valuable asset to bayern, but your contract is set to expire in 2024. 

the online rumor, started thanks to soccerdonna, has been buzzing with speculation about your next move—at first some said that you're transferring to lyon in france, while others think you might return to your home in the united states to play for the portland thorns. 

the rumors have caused quite a stir, especially for your girlfriend, sydney, a midfielder who plays for bayern.

after you started at bayern in 2020, sydney and you were friends. not long after, she confessed her feelings for you and you guys have managed to maintain a strong relationship throughout the next three years, making it a point to spend a lot of time together.

 

however, the recent speculation about your future has made sydney anxious. 

little do you know, sydney is going to renew her contract for bayern. you kind of suspected it, sydney is in love with bayern and would never leave anytime soon. 

little did sydney know, bayern is pleased with your performance and eager to extend your contract until 2026, a detail you're not yet allowed to disclose publicly.

during an interview after the game between bayern and freiburg, where you managed to score a goal and two assists, you were asked about your recent rumors. you should’ve known that the elephant in the room needed to be addressed. 

"y/n, there's been a lot of speculation about your future in the last few weeks. can you shed any light on the rumors linking you to lyon or a return to the NWSL with the portland thorns?"

you smile politely, moving your cross your arms as you think about the words you have to say next, 

"well, you know how rumors can be," you begin, trying to keep your tone light. "right now, i’m fully focused on bayern and finishing the season strong with my team. it's been a great journey here, i’m very very happy with this club and i'm committed to giving my best."

the blonde interviewer nods, pressing on gently. "but with your contract expiring in 2024, fans are eager to know if you've made any decisions about your future. can you give us any hints?"

you chuckle softly, as your fingers tangle onto the red zipper on your puffer jacket. the media rooms were a little cold considering you’d played a full 90 minute match. 

"i understand the curiosity, but at this point, there's nothing official to announce. bayern has been a fantastic place for me, and i'm really happy here. when the time comes for an announcement, you'll all be the first to know.”

there were rumors about sydney going to the wsl or the nwsl. you knew you shouldn’t believe them, but transfer windows can shock anyone. sydney was outspoken about “not being afraid to live in new places” too. 

during the days where you guys have the day off to spend with each other— you can feel the tension between you both grow as the rumors persist. 

sitting on the couch in your munich apartment, sydney stared at you intensely as she stood by the couch. she watched your fingers flick on the remote, while your eyes watched the TV flickering in the background with a rerun of your favorite netflix show. you know she's staring at you, but she had a tendency to do that a lot. 

"baby, i need to ask you something," she says, her voice hesitant. you look up at her with worried eyes as she moved to sit beside you on the couch, only giving an inch of space. that was too far for you, though. 

your eyebrows knitted together in curiosity, your look gave her the silent permission to continue with her question. 

"are you really moving back to the states to play with portland?"

you fully turn your body to her, ignoring the tv, and you see the worry in her eyes. before moving to munich in 2020, you played in the nwsl in your home country. starting off with the washington spirit straight out of high school before playing in the 2019 world cup, winning it all at just 17. 

eventually, you moved to orlando pride before wanting to have a full change. you knew that a different league would be the best for your growth.

many european clubs were on your doorstep, wanting to send you offers due to how natural you were with the ball. you chose bayern and have been loyal to the club ever since. 

your heart aches knowing how much the uncertainty has been affecting sydney. one thing you couldn’t stand was seeing your happy and silly girl so upset. 

at this point, you’ve already signed the renewal with bayern, it wouldn’t hurt telling your girlfriend about the news.  

"no, sweet pea," you say gently, taking her hands in yours. "bayern is happy with me and i’m happy with bayern so i'm renewing my contract with bayern until 2026. i’m sorry for not telling you before, i just couldn't say anything until it actually happened."

sydney's eyes widen in surprise before a wave of relief washes over her face. she wraps her strong arms around your shoulders as you, naturally, place your hand on her right knee. 

"you're staying?" she whispers, almost in disbelief. the rumors scared her recently and it was clear. the german girl loves you so much.

you nod, smiling softly. "yes, i'm staying. i love it here in germany, and i love being with you. I can’t leave, this is my home."

tears of happiness well up in sydney's eyes as she pulls you into a tighter embrace, moving your body so you’re sitting on her lap instead. she holds your lower waist as you bury your head into her neck. "you don’t understand how relieved i am," she says, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "i've been so worried."

you hold her tightly, grateful that feeling the tension between you both is gone. "i know, syd. it's been hard not being able to tell you."

syd pulls your body back slightly, looking up into your eyes as her hands move to sit on your thighs. "well, i have something to tell you too," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“what is it?” you say with a surprised look on your face. you hoped it was good news, but due to the look on syd’s face, you can tell it was.

"the rumors about me staying at bayern are true. i wanted to surprise you later but the rumors are starting to get a little crazier."

your heart skips a beat. "you’re staying?" you ask your lover, hardly daring to believe it. especially since you thought sydney wanted a change away from her home. 

she nods, her smile widening. "yes, i wanted to stay close to you and stay in germany. i wouldn't stand the thought of us being apart for so long."

you both laugh, the joy of the moment overwhelming. "this is amazing," you say, kissing her forehead softly.

“i love you.” 

“Ich liebe dich mehr.”

<3

[skele-ghost]

Fuck in the Graveyard (not really)

Summary: (Graves/Reader) You’ve been taking illegal suppressants for wayyy too long, and when you miss a dose, it all comes crashing down.

Content Warning: A/B/O Omegaverse dynamics, reader is afab, female pronouns?, substance abuse, technically is a fuck or die situation, p in v, knotting, brief fingering

Graves is kinda sweet in this one. I’ve never posted my stuff anywhere before and this is the first fic I’ve written in second person. Let me know what y’all think. I do not take requests.

(*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

The thing about taking illegal suppressants is that you have to time them perfectly. You’d better have your cycle down to a science, and you’d better take them three days before your heat, during, and three days after—and don’t you dare take them any more than 24 hours apart.

That’s how you wound up completely fucked: you took one dose two hours too late, and now the suppressants were completely ineffective. Was it really your fault? No, you’d been in the middle of a firefight, for fucks sake! But by some sick case of luck and science that made next to no sense, your heat started to build.

You hid being an Omega as much as you could. It wasn’t exactly a secret—it was there in your file for anyone to see. But so long as your heats were taken care of and you weren’t sending every Alpha within a mile radius into a rut, the military was happy.

And you were happy to let them believe that you were taking the regular course of suppressants that they prescribed you, and not the dangerous, high-dose, illegal ones that you preferred. They made your scent next to undetectable and made sure you could actually think straight when you were suppressing your heat, unlike the regular ones.

You were a specialist, an asset of high importance, and you’d be damned if you’d let your own biology stand in the way of that.

That’s why you liked the Shadows. Graves sent you a job offer after working with you on a mission gone sour in Urzikstan. He admired the way you kept your head cool when the world was falling apart around you. Even when you disclosed your designation, he shrugged it off.

“As long as you can keep your head cool like you did out there, we won’t have any problems,” he’d said.

And you’d kept your promise for nearly two years, now. But that was a long time to go without a heat, and a long time to be surrounded by the heady scent of Alpha unclaimed.

You were ashamed of the way you had to take off earlier. Once everyone was back from the mission, in one piece, settled in, you bolted, feeling the heat and sweat cling to you like a second skin.

It was sheer resolve that allowed you to keep the scent patches on for so long, little bandages clamped over your glands with a strong deodorizer, not letting anything out. You nearly passed out from the intense pain of prying them off your neck and wrists, the scent glands over-sensitive to even a breeze.

You blink away the tears quickly; you have to stay focused. You’ll drive to the safe house and crash there, get something planned. You knew the consequences of completely suppressing your heat for so long with such toxic drugs. Now you had to live with the consequences.

The little white farmhouse is remote, nestled deep in an old growth wood. It was beautiful, living up to the pictures you’d seen when Graves had shown it to you as a precaution. It had been in his family for generations before he fixed it up and decided to turn it into a safe house.

You pant as you put the car in park, staring at the building for a moment, your thoughts jumbled and disconjointed. As much as you want to melt into the seat, you have to get inside. A cold shower—that’s what you promise yourself, meek little motivation.

It manages to pull you out of the truck, onto shaky legs that want to collapse underneath you, but you push on.

They key is behind a brick on the foundation beneath the porch. It takes you a moment to remember which one—Graves had only shown you once.

Since you are the only unclaimed omega in the Shadows, he told you where the house was and how to access it. Just in case you had, in his words, “omega-related problems.” It isn’t too far from base. You’d have to figure out some way to show your eternal gratitude for the man…if you ever saw him again.

You retrieve the key and turn to make your way up the stairs, and that’s when things go sideways. You trip on the last step, crashing onto the porch with a force that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

The key falling out of your hand is the last coherent thought that you have before the pain takes over. Your sensitive skin and muscles cry out and it feels like hitting a sore bruise, everywhere.

You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the watery image of the porch’s ceiling. There’s a wasp’s nest, gross, but it’s November. They’re either sleeping or dead from the cold.

And thank god it’s cold, because at least your skin doesn’t feel like it’s completely on fire.

You know this is bad. You’ve deteriorated too quickly, the heat sneaking up and hitting you like a blitz attack from the dark.

As much as you hate to admit it, heats are necessary. It gets rid of built-up chemicals in the brain, provides a release to make new ones. Not quite like sleep was necessary, but in a similar fashion.

You’re worried that this one might kill you. You’re worried that if this one isn’t quelled and satisfied, you might end up brain-dead or in an eternal coma like the people in those stories your middle school health class scared you with.

But in the face of death? All that you wish is that you could apologize for the inconvenience. What kind of paperwork would Graves have to fill out for your corpse? Would he get in trouble for not monitoring you, for not knowing about your use of the illegal suppressants?

You slip into unconsciousness, the word ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue.

-

A whimper is all you manage as you stir awake, the first thing you notice being the thick, heavy, intoxicating scent of an Alpha, and one you know.

Graves smells like bonfires and bourbon, or maybe it’s whiskey? You make a breathy moan at the smell, brows furrowing as you feel yourself being carried.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, his voice making a nice rumble trail down your spine.

He’s holding you bridal style and then holds you close to him as he sits down, tucking your head into his neck so that you can scent him.

It cools the flames slightly, letting your mind clear itself of the fog as you finally stir, opening your eyes.

“Com-mander?” You ask, voice not much louder than a whisper.

He pulls you back, glancing down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern. “(Y/N), what’s going on? You don’t smell right, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Suppressants…not working,” you grit out, whimpering as an uncomfortable cramp begins in your gut.

“The ones you’ve been taking? Why, what’s wrong with them?” He lays you down on the bed he’d been sitting on and you whine at the loss of contact, squinting your eyes shut at the cramping.

You can hear him search through your bag, the one that had been digging painfully into your back a few minutes ago, and you hear the rattle of a pill bottle.

“Oh, (Y/N), you didn’t…” he says, and you can only imagine what his expression is as he looks at the bottle. It’s pretty damning—the prescription bottle with someone else’s name blacked out on it, half empty, label reading exactly what’s inside.

Graves returns to your side, his cool hand on your cheek turning you to look up at him. He looks…betrayed? Crestfallen? Worried, above all else, as he holds the bottle up with one hand.

“(Y/N), tell me you didn’t take these—tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he demands, the command in his tone making a gush of slick escape you, adding to your already soaked panties.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper, tears blurring up along your waterline.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he growls, tossing the pills onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. “What do I do? You need to go to a hospital, is that it?”

You shake your head, “no, they can’t do anything. And I’d get arrested—ah!” You cry out, curling inwards as a sharp, painful cramp rolls through. Slick gushes out of you again, your organs overproducing as if they need to make up for all the missed heats. After a few agonizing moments it calms down and leaves you gasping, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You know what your options are, you know how fucked up this is, and you know that Graves is probably going to fire you after this—but you also know that you’re not ready for the final alternative.

“Please, it hurts!” You beg, pleading up at the sight of your commander above you, “please, Alpha.”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, pursing his lips in that way you’ve always found so hot, “are you sure? You’re not thinking clearly, (Y/N).”

You nod frantically, grabbing his arm and scenting his wrist, keening at the smell, “please, please, Graves.”

His restraint snaps and he climbs ontop of you, pinning your wrists to the bed and placing his mouth on yours. You moan into it, trying to lift you hips up to get some kind of friction to no avail.

He pulls away and you tilt you head aside to give him better access to your neck as he scents you, breathing in deeply and growling. You cry out as he runs his tongue and teeth along the glands.

“I never got a good smell of you, (Y/N), you always wear those damn patches and I always want to rip them off,” he nibbles along your jaw, your whines and whimpers filling the small bedroom.

“Alpha, please,” you beg, desperate, clenching around nothing when you want to be clenching around him. “Inside, please put it inside.”

“I know, baby,” he says, pecking your lips again before he pulls back, hands gliding along your sides as he pulls your shirt off. “You’re burning up.”

Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you squirm, whining and babbling as he pulls your bra off, too. The cooler air feels nice on your sweat-sheen skin, and you buck your hips as Graves gets off of you, hooking his fingers to pull your pants and panties down in one fell swoop.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, then groans at the sight of your slick, how it clings to your parties in wet strings before he pulls them away.

Your boots are still on and he didn’t get your pants all the way off, but maybe seeing how soaked you are makes Graves hasty.

The most pornographic moan escapes you as he sinks two fingers in your hole, your sweet little cunt sucking them in and clenching down.

“Fuck, good Omega,” Graves groans, slipping in a third finger that has you moaning even louder.

Every spot he hits is the right one, every move pure ecstasy. Your voice is a broken babble of pleads and curses and moans, begging for your commander to fuck you, to take you, to make you his.

You almost sob when he retracts his fingers, not even caring to wipe them as he rolls you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up into the air, right against his own.

Feeling his erection against your ass, you turn downright frantic, “please please please, please fuck me, Alpha, please I need your knot so bad!”

He hisses as you rub against him and he begins unbuckling his belt, which only spurs you on more. He manages to still your hips and get his pants down, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.

You keen embarrassingly loud as he enters you, slowly letting every inch of himself be swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

When he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, it’s like a switch flips. You cum, whining as your legs shake, as Graves gasps behind you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he drawls, squeezing into the meat of your hips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

Your brain is too melted with lust to be able to form any coherent sentence. When he pulls out and slowly thrusts back into you, testing the waters, you all but go limp, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan.

“Goooood girl,” he praises, speeding up his thrusts and finding a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together. “So slick and tight for me, omega, good god—“

All you can do is moan and take it. There’s no more painful cramping, and though your skin is still hot it’s not as bad. Your body is getting exactly what it needs: a good, hard fucking by a big, strong Alpha.

“(Y/N),” Graves moans, his voice sounding so sweet to your ears, “so good, baby. Better than I ever imagined.”

You keen at that, at your alpha wanting you—well, he isn’t yours, is he? It makes your heart sting slightly but that’s quickly forgotten with a slap to your ass, sending shockwaves of excitement through you.

You can feel yourself getting tighter, getting ready to be thrown over the edge again, and you can feel Graves speed up his thrusts, his knot slowly beginning to swell inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gonna give you my knot, gonna fill you up good—“

His thrusts get even harder, even rougher, and you cry out, feeling yourself come tumbling violently over the edge as his knot catches on you, cumming in waves like the sea crashes onto shore.

Graves stills inside you, making good on his promise, shooting ropes and ropes of hot seed. You can feel his swollen knot inside you, just past your entrance, making your pussy full in the most delicious way. You hear him catch his breath before he carefully rolls you both over onto your sides, laying down with you on the bed.

You hum happily as he wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder as both of your ragged breathing calms.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, his voice husky in a way that makes you wish you were his.

“Yeah,” you manage to reply, running your hands along the arms that hold you.

“I don’t want you taking those damn pills ever again,” he growls, making you shiver. “Understand?”

You open your eyes and turn to look at him, confused at the soft expression on his face. It’s almost…vulnerable? Wasn’t he going to fire you?

“Commander?”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he says. Behind his blue eyes is a fire you know well, akin to the one that dances in his eyes on the battlefield. “I’ll drug test you if I have to, but I’m not going to lose you to some stupid suppressants.”

You blink. “You’re not going to fire me?”

“What? No,” he says like you’re crazy for thinking so. “But if you want to stay, darlin,’ we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

“Okay,” you agree, relieved. You didn’t want to lose your job, it’s a good gig. The employee benefits are killer…and you’d miss your commander.

“It’s simple, (Y/N), no more illegal suppressants, and you come to me for your heats,” that bastard smirk of his returns and you giggle.

“Are you propositioning me, Commander?”

“Hell, yes I am,” he says proudly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Probably should’ve done it sooner.”

You lean in and kiss him, enjoying how it sweetens his scent. Your heart flutters in place, content, elated; you had only ever dreamed of this. You finally have him.

“Oh, and no more scent patches. You smell too damn good to be covered up.”

You roll your eyes at him, still grinning. “You sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like every other alpha sniffing after me.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you safe,” he says confidently, placing a lingering kiss to your cheek. His eyes hint at something darker, “besides… they’ll catch on.”

[fuctacles]

Eddie, not panicking: Henderson's older brother is a little broken and now it's my fault, apparently? :/ [Part III]

[Part I] [Part II] [Part IV]

"I smell popcorn. Do you smell popcorn?" Dustin asked, sniffing the air.

Eddie stuck his nose up in the air, imitating a rabbit to his best abilities.

"Indeed I do."

Dustin was already opening his door and stomping down the stairs.

"They're watching the new Karate Kid!" he yelled from the living room. 

They could have been watching a documentary about shrimps and Eddie would gladly join them anyway just to be an annoying menace to the older Henderson. Besides, his alternative was the algebra homework in front of him. So, like a properly feral trailer creature, he buried it deep beneath Dustin’s blankets and dumped a stuffed cat toy on top of the pile before leaving the room.

The living room curtains were already drawn to create an illusion of a cinema experience. The whole room smelled of popcorn and Dustin’s smugness because he managed to plant his ass comfortably into the only available armchair.

Eddie was doomed to share the couch with the older kids - Steve and his girlfriend Robin whom he’s seen in passing before. He waved at her, and she waved back, which was their usual routine. Steve patted the empty seat on his other side, grinning.

“So glad you are joining us.”

“I’d rather be studying, but my therapist advised human interactions,” Eddie sighed heavily, falling against the cushions. His hand was immediately buried in the huge bowl of popcorn Steve was holding. The boy put it in the air instantly.

“Wait for the movie to start!”

Eddie chewed on his stolen kernels, looking him dead in the eye before shifting his gaze and raising his eyebrows pointedly at something behind him. The realisation hit him immediately.

“Robin!” he swirled around to scold her. She was sitting up on her knees to reach the bowl.

“Just start the movie!” Dustin yelled, throwing at him ammunition from his own, smaller bowl.

“Unbelievable,” Steve murmured, reaching for the remote.

Eddie exchanged a glance over his back with Robin, snickering at each other. He liked their company, despite his initial reservations. The Hendersons' house was quickly becoming a second home to him, and he was slowly but surely accepting it. Maybe ‘86 was going to be his year in more than just academics; He already got a bunch of freshmen he was embarrassingly fond of, and while he did not actually have a therapist to tell him that, he knew expanding his social circle wouldn’t hurt. A good party of adventures needs variety. And it’s so hard to find a healer. Maybe Robin would be down? Steve was probably more of a tank, which was also an asset.

The movie has been on for maybe ten minutes when a Dustin-shaped blob tried to squeeze itself between him and Steve.

“Hey!” they both protested in unison. Steve shoved himself into Eddie, squeezing all the air out of him as he was now shoved between him and the armrest. 

“You have your armchair!”

“Well, it’s at the wrong angle. It’s not optimal for watching,” the boy whined, trying again to squeeze himself between Robin and Steve this time. He did the same thing though, pancaking her between himself and the couch.

“Come on!” Dustin groaned.

They did some back and forth, shifting in front of each other like in Wayne’s stupid basketball matches, until Robin decided to be a dumbass and reached for the remote to pause the still ongoing movie. Dustin saw his opening and dipped to his right, sliding between her and the armrest. Suddenly, Steve’s elbow was in Eddie’s ribs.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry- Dustin!”

“What!? Just take Robin on your lap and don’t be a pussy!”

“Ew, fucking gross-!”

“We are not fucking dating-!” they protested simultaneously, their voices overlapping with a similar sense of exasperation and annoyance.

“How bout you sit on my lap, little brother?” Steve offered, saccharine coating his words.

“Ew, I’m not a baby, Steve!”

Eddie patted Steve’s arm, the one still wedged way too close to his very bruisable ribs.

“There, there, Stevie, don’t cry. I’ll sit on your lap,” he said, sending him his best pitying smile.

Steve’s eyes were on him again, the tree bark brown of the oak tree little Eddie hung his first birdhouse on. They weren’t rolling though. Why weren’t they rolling and annoyed in that heavenly entertaining way?

“Great,” Steve said, a small relieved breath escaping him. And then his arm was living his space.

Oh, of course. Eddie overdid it this time. The joke went too far, and he was going to get his teeth knocked out again, but this time no new ones are coming to replace them.

The arm landed behind him, circling his shoulders. The other landed on his legs and in the next second he was being lifted off the couch, expecting a close encounter with the floor, or being dumped onto the armchair in the best scenario. 

But then he’s not, he opens his eyes, and he’s surrounded by warmth and softness and the movie is being rewound to the point before the sitting argument. 

He is embarrassed and mortified, looking at the screen like it could somehow tether him back to his previous reality. The one when he was not sitting on Steve Henderson’s lap.

He took a cautious look at the others, who didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Eddie just got manhandled into another man’s lap. He was the only one freaking out. Maybe it was a normal occurrence for Steve, maybe he was exaggerating?

He was sitting a bit to the side not to obscure Steve’s vision. The man’s arm was brushing against his spine, thrown around the back of the couch behind him to make room. He could feel the rise and fall of Steve’s chest. He could feel Steve everywhere.

It was his idea, his stupid mouth said it, and so he couldn’t back down now, even if his skin was on fire.

Everyone but him seemed to be focused on the movie, so he decided he was not gonna be worse. Just imagine it’s still the couch. A very warm, breathing couch.

Steve moved under him without warning, and Eddie stiffened up. He pressed a hand against his mouth not to make a sound, the other one gripping the flesh of Steve’s thigh, hard. There was a hand against his waist, a futile attempt not to jostle his body.

Then the world was right again, Steve settled under him. With a peace offering in his hands. He had wrenched Dustin’s mini bowl of popcorn to give it to Eddie.

He accepted it but made the mistake of looking at Steve.

There was no tree brown in his eyes, it was all technicolour reflexes of the TV, reminding Eddie of neon signs in the dark.

“Thanks,” he whispered in the dim room. Steve smiled at him, a hint of teeth shining right next to him. He stuffed his face with popcorn and reminded himself Steve was Henderson’s brother and Eddie was comfortable sitting in his lap.

And he was, for the majority of the movie, until Steve forgot himself and his hand landed on Eddie’s knee, thumb rubbing against the denim. Eddie eyed the movement, then subtly glanced at the man’s face. He was watching the movie, relaxed like none of his limbs were moving against his will. Eddie scrunched his nose, looked away and jostled his leg. Steve squeezed him gently and let go.

“Sorry,” he whispers, too quiet, too close to Eddie’s ear. 

He shakes his head.

“‘s okay,” he whispers back, even if it didn’t feel okay.

He survived to the end of the movie, but as soon as the credits started rolling, he jumped up and off Steve, eager to open the curtains, let some fresh air in, and sprint across the yard as far away as possible from Steve Henderson’s thighs. The flowers beneath the window would make for a great landing spot.

Before he could leap into freedom, a familiar heat, smell and shape of a human approached him, gently pressing against his side.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Steve said, his voice quiet below a whisper. Eddie turned away from freedom, putting distance between himself and the heat.

“You should be sorry,” he scoffed, giving him his best death glare and stepping away.

He had an algebra textbook to dig up from underneath blankets.

It’s not that he was uncomfortable with touching. He was a very tactile person himself. But this level of closeness was not something to share easily, not with someone he barely considered a friend. Steve was a weird person. 

Said the freak.

He was wrangling the blankets when someone coughed behind him. He was so whirred up, this time he did scream.

“What!” he turned around to find Dustin, who was positively fuming.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing!”

“No, he looks like a kicked puppy. So you must have said something.” Dustin’s frown deepened.

Eddie frowned back.

The boy sighed, closing the door and coming closer to lower his voice as much as his vocal cords could manage.

“Listen, we are still working with Steve to open up and be himself. Which, apparently, involves a lot of hugs and shit. So like, if you do anything to fuck this up, even unintentionally…” He scrunched his face like he was in physical pain saying it. His eyes were big and more childlike than ever. “I can’t have you coming over.”

There was a lot to process there, none of which Eddie expected. Being banned from the Henderson household? No fucking way.

“Shit.”

Dustin nodded solemnly.

“Shit. He’s in the kitchen right now if you want to have a word,” he looked at him pointedly. Eddie winced.

“Now?”

If eyes could kill, Eddie would be ten feet underground and rotting.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “I’ll go apologise to your brother.”

“Atta boy!”

Eddie threw him the middle finger and left the room. He stomped down the stairs to announce his presence and then knocked against the kitchen door frame for good measure. Two pairs of eyes turned towards him.

Of course, Steve’s not-girlfriend was with him.

“Can I have a moment with you?” he asked, searching Steve’s eyes and, oh shit he did look like a kicked puppy.

Steve nodded, but not at him. He nodded at Robin and walked towards Eddie to steer him back into the living room.

“Dustin told you to do this?” Steve guessed immediately.

“Yes,” Eddie admitted. “But he’s right. I overreacted. Just,” he bit his lip, because damn where was his script? What was Steve’s AC and where were the dice?

“Warn me next time?” What fucking next time, Eddie? No, there was going to be next time, because Steve needs hugs to heal, and you need Dustin to graduate. “Like, in the BDSM community, consent is the most important thing. You know?”

There was a soft sound somewhere from the house like someone facepalmed. Which, fair, Eddie would too if he didn’t have to actively participate in the disastrous conversation. So, thanks, anonymous eavesdropper for being unhelpful.

“BDSM?” Steve repeated, the corner of his lips twitching. Even the other participant in the conversation was laughing at his expense. Great.

“Yeah?”

“And you are… part of that community?” Steve cocked his head with curiosity and a curious cat was better than a kicked puppy, so Eddie was doing great. 

“No,” Eddie scoffed. “I mean kinda? But not really. Hey, listen, how about we don’t talk about this,” he offered, laughing awkwardly.

Steve nodded, no traces of sadness on his face. Meaning if all else fails, Eddie could at least go around humiliating himself for laughs.

“Anyway, sorry for being a dick, ask next time. Okay?”

“Okay.” Steve smiled his warm smile, the one that always reminded Eddie of his delicious cookies.

“Can I touch your hair?”

“Really running with it, I see, but okay.” Eddie didn’t like his hair being touched but this one time he’d make an exception. Kind of like he was appeasing a toddler to stop whining.

He was expecting Steve to tug at his hair, he was kind of used to it. Maybe run a finger through them, rub at the split ends and complain about how he doesn’t take care of his curls. Eddie saw his hair products collection, and noticed the judgemental stares, alright? He knows.

Instead, Steve’s fingers brush somewhere near his ear and come back with a piece of popcorn.

“You should check if there’s more before you leave,” he said, before leaving Eddie to rejoin Robin in the kitchen.

Eddie ran.

He ran into Dustin’s room, ran from his incredulous question about using BDSM as an argument, then ran with his textbooks under his arm, towards his car and far away from the Hendersons' house.

User tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 @just-a-tiny-void @clumsiluni @shotgunhallelujah @halfadoginatank

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[msilwrites]

The Mystery of Ghost's Better Half (Simon 'Ghost' Fic)

Gamekeeper! Reader, Groundskeeper! Reader, Ex-MI5! Reader, Stalker! Reader, Naughty! Ghost, Naughty! Simon, Stalker! Reader, Possessive! Reader, Sunshine! Reader, Shy! Reader, Introvert! Reader

A/N: This story features the same Y/N (that’s YOU!!) from How I met your Mother, Midnight Snack Mystery and The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That?

You’ll notice I’ve kept physical descriptions and most of your aesthetic to a minimum—no name, race, or colour—because I want you, the reader, to be able to fully immerse yourself in the story. Imagine it’s you!

That said, I’ve crafted your background and bio to be absolutely awesome. Let’s be real—you deserve to be as amazing as the characters you’re sharing the story with! 💪

For those curious about the timeline, this story takes place WAY before both The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That? and Midnight Snack Mystery. and after How I Met Your Mother. I’ll be putting together a proper timeline for all the chaos soon—stay tuned! Genre: Comedy/Fluff

Summary: Set almost a year into your relationship with Ghost, a casual supermarket run takes an unexpected turn when you bump into Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick—who also happens to be your former subordinate. As stories unfold and secrets unravel, Ghost discovers there's more to your past than you've let on... and you learn he’s been keeping a few surprises of his own. What starts as a mundane errand turns into a hilariously revealing chapter in your lives together. Some Terms to take note of;

RAF: Royal Air Force – The air force branch of the British Armed Forces, responsible for aerial defense and operations.

UAV: Unmanned Aerial Vehicle – A drone or remote-controlled aircraft used for surveillance, reconnaissance, and sometimes combat, without a pilot onboard.

MI5: Military Intelligence, Section 5 – The British domestic counter-intelligence and security agency, primarily focused on national security, including counter-terrorism and espionage.

SAS: Special Air Service – A special forces regiment of the British Army, known for its expertise in counter-terrorism, hostage rescue, and covert operations.

SBS: Special Boat Service – The Royal Navy’s counterpart to the SAS, specializing in amphibious and maritime operations, including counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and hostage rescue. RMP: Royal Military Police – The military police branch of the British Army, responsible for maintaining discipline, investigating crimes within the military, and providing security for military operations.

SRR: Special Reconnaissance Regiment – A special forces regiment of the British Army, specializing in covert reconnaissance, surveillance, and intelligence gathering.

MI6: Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) – The British foreign intelligence service, responsible for collecting intelligence from outside the UK, mainly focusing on espionage, counter-intelligence, and security issues abroad.

SCO19/CTSFO: Specialist Crime and Operations/Counter Terrorism Specialist Firearms Officers – A unit of the Metropolitan Police Service responsible for handling counter-terrorism operations and armed responses to incidents involving firearms or other serious threats.

Case Officer – A role within intelligence agencies, such as MI5 or MI6, where the officer is responsible for managing agents or assets, gathering intelligence, and overseeing operations involving covert operations and surveillance.

----------

The supermarket buzzed with quiet chatter and the soft clatter of carts. Simon pushed their trolley with one hand, the other draped over Y/N’s shoulder. Both wore masks—not because they were hiding from the world but because they were both introverts who preferred to keep their faces to themselves.

“Why do we always look like we’re about to rob the place?” Y/N muttered under her breath, glancing at their reflection in the freezer doors.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Simon replied, his voice dry. “You’d be the worst getaway driver. Too many stops for snacks.”

“Bold words for someone who insisted on two different types of biscuits last week.”

He smirked behind his mask, steering them toward the drinks aisle. “Tea,” he said. “Running low.”

She chuckled softly. “Heaven forbid we face a morning without tea.”

They rounded a corner when a familiar voice stopped them in their tracks.

“LT?”

Simon glanced up sharply to see Kyle Garrick standing a few feet away, looking equal parts amused and bewildered.

“Garrick,” Simon greeted, nodding in acknowledgment.

Kyle closed the distance, clapping Simon’s shoulder in a friendly grip before offering the traditional handshake-bump. “Didn’t think I’d ever catch you out here, sir, in a domesticated way!”

Simon rolled his eyes but let a smirk slip through. “Everyone’s got to eat, mate. Even me.”

Kyle chuckled, but his attention drifted to Y/N, and his expression froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. “No bloody way.”

Y/N blinked, tilting her head. “Kyle?”

“Ma’am!” Kyle’s grin split wide as he snapped a playful salute before pulling her into a hug. “It’s really you!”

Y/N laughed softly, hugging him back. “Look at you, all grown up and out of trouble.”

Simon stood off to the side, arms crossed and brow raised. “Ma’am?” he echoed, his tone skeptical but sharp.

Kyle stepped back from the hug, hands raised as if to placate him. “Relax, LT. Not nicking Mrs Riley.”

“I’m not yet—” Y/N started, only for Simon to cut in.

“She will be,” Simon said matter-of-factly, his voice laced with quiet authority.

Kyle chuckled, shooting Y/N a knowing look. “Fair enough. But seriously, LT, you’ve bagged yourself a legend.” He gestured to Y/N. “This woman was my case officer back when I was just starting out. Pulled me and my team out of more fires than I care to count.”

Y/N winced. “Kyle, don’t.”

But Kyle continued undeterred. “She’s the reason I got placed with the CTSFOs before Price found me. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the edge in his tone unmistakable. “That so?”

Kyle nodded earnestly. “She didn’t just handle the logistics—she made sure we got in and out in one piece. Always had a knack for knowing when to pull us before things got messy.”

“Kyle,” Y/N interrupted, raising a hand. “Enough. You’re making me sound like a bloody action figure.”

Kyle grinned, sheepish but unapologetic. “Sorry, ma’am.” He turned to Simon, adding, “Go easy on her, LT. She’s earned it. And don’t worry—I won’t tell the lads.”

“Good,” Simon said curtly, his tone clipped but not unkind. “I’ll interrogate her myself. Now, get on with your shopping, Garrick.”

Kyle saluted again, grinning. “Aye, sir.” He turned back to Y/N with a softer look. “We’ll catch up one day, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said with a faint smile. “Take care, Kyle.”

As Kyle walked off, Simon’s amber eyes fixed on her, curiosity and amusement dancing in their depths. “So,” he drawled, “you’re a legend, are you?”

She groaned, pushing the trolley forward. “Don’t start.”

Simon followed, his tone low and teasing. “You’re my Mrs Riley, and yet I’m only hearing this from Garrick? What else are you hiding, love?”

She sighed, glancing over her shoulder. “Plenty.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “We’ll sort that later. For now, let’s stock up. Wouldn’t want to run out of biscuits again.”

Y/N muttered something under her breath but let him guide the trolley forward, knowing full well that “later” was going to be anything but quiet.

----------

Back at Simon’s house, the rustle of grocery bags filled the quiet kitchen as Y/N started unpacking their haul. Simon leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his amber eyes fixed on her with that signature intensity she found equal parts alluring and irritating.

“So,” he began, voice low and calm, “how exactly do you know Kyle?”

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of honey. “He’s just a kid I looked after, that’s all.”

Simon arched a brow. “Looked after? He was going on about saving lives. Sounds a bit more than babysitting, love.”

She set the bread down and shot him a look. “It’s not worth mentioning. Besides, you never asked.”

His brow shot higher, and a hint of amusement flickered in his gaze. “Never asked, huh?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, focusing on the next bag. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hi, I used to babysit rookie agents and soldiers when they couldn’t keep themselves out of trouble’? Bit of a conversation killer, don’t you think?”

Simon snorted, stepping forward to help as she tried—and failed—to push a box of tea onto the top shelf. His hand brushed hers as he easily slid it into place. “Funny how you leave out that you were apparently some kind of mastermind,” he said, his tone casual but teasing.

She rolled her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. Then she turned the tables. “I heard Kyle call you ‘LT.’ And since he’s SAS, that means you’re SAS, too, yeah?”

Simon smirked, pulling another bag closer. “And here I thought you knew everything about me.”

“All you told me is you were RAF,” she countered, her arms crossed now. “Are you really going to act smug about not mentioning that detail?”

He set a box of biscuits on the counter and leaned in slightly, his voice dropping an octave. “You never asked. How was I supposed to tell you?”

She snorted, trying to brush past him to grab more groceries, but he moved faster, blocking her path with his broad frame. His eyes glittered with mischief. “Anything else you’ve been keeping from me? Or do I have to wait for Garrick to fill me in again?”

She tilted her head up, glaring playfully. “Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

“Plenty?” he repeated, feigning surprise. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe,” she teased, pushing at his chest lightly. “You’ll find out eventually—if you’re lucky.”

Simon caught her wrist, his grip firm but gentle, and pulled her closer. The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. “Lucky, am I?”

“You might be,” she replied, her tone breezy but her pulse quickening as his thumb brushed her wrist.

“Guess I’ll have to keep asking then,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble. “Can’t have my Mrs. Riley keeping secrets from me.”

“I’m not—” she started, but he cut her off with a soft kiss, the groceries temporarily forgotten as his teasing turned into something much more serious.

When they broke apart, her breath hitched, and she quipped, “You’re still putting away the rest of those groceries.”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly but not letting her go. “Fair enough. But don’t think you’re off the hook, love. We’ll have another chat about Garrick soon enough.”

“You know, we don’t have to wait until later,” she teased, “might as well start the ‘interrogation’ now.” She raised a brow at him. “But fair’s fair. For every question about me, I get to ask you one. Deal?”

Simon grinned. “Deal.” His voice was steady, but there was an undeniable edge of anticipation as he leaned in, clearly ready for his next round of questioning.

“How do you know Sergeant Garrick?” Simon asked again, now that the gauntlet had been thrown down.

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes flickering briefly to the side before she met his gaze. “I was a Case Officer for MI5,” she began, her voice steady but with a note of something deeper. “I worked with MI6, the SAS, SBS and SCO19/CTSFO. Gaz was stationed in the Middle East during a critical operation. There was a leak within MI6 that affected MI5, and I had to pull his team out at the last minute.” (A/N: Gaz working in the middle east is actually canon material, you can find it in his bio)

Simon didn’t interrupt, his curiosity piqued.

“Garrick was just starting out, but he was good,” she continued. “His team was in real danger. I saved them—kept them from walking into a shitstorm that would’ve cost them their lives.” She paused, her expression clouding slightly, as if remembering the tension of those moments.

“Fuck,” Simon muttered, clearly impressed. “You really didn’t mention any of that.”

She shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You never asked.”

Simon was about to speak again when Y/N raised a finger. “Now, my turn. Is that why you’d disappear for weeks before we got together? You were deployed?”

Simon’s jaw tightened slightly, but his expression remained calm. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “that’s why.”

Y/N nodded, her lips pursed as she processed that. “I thought so.”

Simon let out a soft breath, the air around them suddenly heavier. “Your turn now. How did you end up in the military?”

Her eyes flickered for a moment before she spoke, the story tumbling out with the quiet weight of years gone by.

“I left home at eighteen,” she said, her voice low but clear. “Got into a bad relationship... ran off again when I realized what a mess I’d gotten into. Ended up in Scotland, working at a distillery as an apprentice brewer.” She sighed, the memory bittersweet. “I was happy, for a while. But then my ex found me. Kept harassing me, threatening everyone around me. I had to leave, for my own safety and everyone else’s.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze distant, before continuing.

“For a while, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had nothing left. But then, one day, I saw a recruitment ad for the RAF. I remembered a colleague I’d worked with at the distillery. He’d always said I had some kind of observational ability that might make me good in the military.” She gave him a dry smile. “I guess I thought, 'why not?' Free food, free place to sleep, and some semblance of security. Plus, they offered sponsored education, which was a bonus. And then there was the therapy—” she hesitated for a moment, her voice softening. “That helped. More than I thought it would. It gave me the space to sort myself out, to stop feeling like I was constantly looking over my shoulder.”

She glanced at Simon, her expression resolute. “I’d had enough of running. Joining the military taught me how to defend myself—and fight back when I needed to.”

Simon’s eyes softened as he listened. She wasn’t finished yet, though.

“I joined the RAF first as an infantry soldier,” she explained, her tone matter-of-fact. “Did a few tours overseas, got some solid experience under my belt, and eventually took an opportunity to upskill as a UAV pilot.” She paused, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as she recounted the progression.

“After that, I transitioned to the RMP and later the SRR. Both roles had me deployed for more tours, sharpening different skill sets along the way,” she continued, her gaze steady. “Eventually, MI5 took notice and recruited me.”

She sighed, leaning back slightly as if the weight of those years momentarily settled on her shoulders. “Stayed there for more than a decade, till they told me to retire. Ran into Kyle during all that, though. Didn’t think I’d see him again, but here we are.”

Simon was quiet for a long moment, processing everything she had just revealed. His eyes never left hers.

“You really know how to keep a secret,” he murmured, clearly impressed—and maybe a little surprised.

“When were you planning to tell me?” he asked after a beat, tilting his head slightly. “Were you ever planning to tell me? Or were you just hoping I’d find and figure it all out?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, crossing her arms with a sigh. “I was just hoping you’d figure it out,” she admitted with a soft laugh, her tone tinged with playful exasperation. “Accept me and my crazy head.” She paused before adding, “To be fair, though, you wouldn’t have believed me even if I told you! I mean, look at me, Simon!” She gestured to herself dramatically, as if presenting a case in court.

Simon’s lips twitched into a sly grin, his gaze sweeping over her as he let out a low chuckle. “Alright, you’ve got a point,” he admitted, amusement lacing his voice. “Small, unassuming, and, dare I say it, bloody adorable. Not exactly what springs to mind when you think of MI5, yeah?”

Her jaw dropped slightly, though her grin remained firmly in place. “Excuse me? Did you just—”

He stepped closer, cutting her off with a laugh. “It’s a compliment,” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But yeah, unless someone like Kyle spilled the beans, I’d probably still be clueless.”

Simon closed the distance between them, his smirk softening as he looked at her. “Oh, and since I did find and figure it out,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, “let me just say—your ‘crazy head’ might actually be my favorite thing about you.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a firm embrace. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, the faint scratch of his stubble brushing against her skin and drawing another burst of laughter.

“Simon, that tickles!” she protested, trying to squirm away, but his grip only tightened.

“Good,” he murmured into her hair, his deep chuckle vibrating against her cheek.

As the laughter subsided, she tilted her head, her expression suddenly thoughtful. “Alright, my turn,” she began, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “Why didn’t you ever mention you were in the SAS?”

Simon’s grip loosened just enough for him to lean back and meet her gaze. His expression shifted, the humour giving way to something more serious. “It’s not exactly something you drop into casual conversation,” he replied. “Most of it’s classified, anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement. “Oh, so it’s alright for you to keep secrets, but when I do it, it’s a problem?”

Simon let out a low chuckle, conceding with a nod. “Touché.”

But then his gaze softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Truth is… I was afraid.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Afraid of what?”

“That you might run off,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “If you knew I was SAS, I thought… I thought you might see the risks, the danger, and decide it wasn’t worth it. And I wanted you too much to risk losing you like that.”

Her brows knit together, her expression softening, but before she could speak, he continued.

“And then there was the other fear,” he added, glancing away briefly. “That you might… I don’t know… only be with me because of what I do. You know how it goes—there’s always someone sniffing around, looking for the ‘glamour’ of it, wanting to brag about dating a ‘hero’ or whatever rubbish they’ve built up in their heads.” His tone held a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “Didn’t want to be someone’s bloody trophy.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

Simon frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Simon,” she said between giggles, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re telling me that was your big worry? That I’d only be with you because of your job?” She grinned, giving him a playful jab to the chest. “Mate, I dated you because you’re hot. And, let’s be honest…” She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I couldn’t resist the free show you were giving me at the reserve.”

Simon’s brows rose, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. “Free show, eh? So you’re finally admitting it? All that time you denied it, called me full of myself—and here we are. Caught you, you cheeky little bird.”

“You, lugging those sacks around, all sweaty and brooding?” She waggled her eyebrows at him, her grin downright wicked. “Honestly, Simon, who needs an OnlyFans subscription to some bloke when I could just hide behind a tree at the reserve and watch the free show? I might’ve been pretending to work, but really, I was just enjoying the live performance.” She gave him a cheeky shrug. “So don’t get it twisted, mate—I’m only here ‘cause I fancied you.”

Simon let out a bark of laughter, his initial frown dissolving completely. “You’re an absolute menace,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled her into his arms. “But I guess it’s a good thing I was giving you a free show, eh? Saved you from wasting good money on some bloke online who charges for access.” His smirk turned downright wicked as he added, “Though now that I think about it, I probably should’ve started charging you admission—could’ve made a tidy profit. Maybe even a subscription service, just for you.”

“And what’s your mode of payment, then?” she asked, her tone dripping with mock curiosity, eyes gleaming mischievously.

Simon raised a brow, his lips curling into a sly grin. “Oh, I think you know,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “This show is exclusive to you, love. No one else gets the ‘personal, one-on-one access.’” He leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “As for payment? A bit of affection, maybe. A kiss here and there. And, of course, the occasional batch of those baked goods you make. Can’t say no to those.”

She didn’t hesitate. With a gleeful laugh, she jumped on him, her legs wrapping around his waist as his strong arms instinctively caught her, hands gripping her thighs to hold her securely. She grinned wickedly, leaning in close and playfully nipping at his jawline.

“Rawr, rawr!” she growled, nipping and biting at his cheek with exaggerated ferocity. “Good! Because you’re all mine!”

Simon barked out a laugh, his hold tightening as he steadied her against him. “You’re mental,” he teased, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. “Utterly bonkers, but yeah... all yours.”

Her triumphant giggle filled the room as she adjusted her arms around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to meet his eyes.

Simon’s smirk softened, his gaze steady on hers. “You’re trouble, y’know that? The kind that sneaks in and takes over before you even realize it.”

“Trouble?” she echoed with a playful scoff, tilting her head. “You love it. Admit it.”

“Maybe I do,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. “Maybe it’s the kind of trouble I’ve been needing.”

Her grin turned victorious as she tightened her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself closer. “Good, because you’re stuck with me. No take-backs, no loopholes, and absolutely no chance of escape. You’ve been claimed, Riley.” She gave him a mock-serious glare, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I’ll make sure you’re glad for it.”

Simon chuckled softly, shaking his head as he gazed at her. “You’re completely off your trolley,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

What Simon didn’t realize, though, was that he’d only scratched the surface of who he’d fallen for. Sure, she’d hinted at her “crazy head” and shared just enough to keep him on his toes, but the full truth? That was a different story. As he was soon to find out, being with her wasn’t just about late-night tea debates and cheeky banter—it came with a side of secrets, surprises, and the occasional “how in the hell did you even know that?” moment. Poor bloke thought he’d seen it all. Spoiler: He hadn’t.

A/N Please Read: Hi, everyone! The inspiration for the character bio of You (Y/N) actually comes from Nathan Muir in the film Spy Game and Charles Heller from the book The Amateur (soon to have a film adaptation starring Rami Malek!). I chose these influences because of their unconventional approach to operations, leaning heavily into psychological warfare and intricate strategizing. I found it fascinating that I couldn’t resist putting it into Y/N’s backstory.

As for the next part of this story in chronological order, it’s actually The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That. However, these stories can stand alone if that’s how you prefer to read them! For those who want to follow the timeline, I’ll include a “Next Part” link below to guide you.

Hope you enjoyed this one! Cheers! 💀✨

Next part --------->

[zenatixsolutions]

Building Management System by Zenatix

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[cyberswift-story]

Enhancing Gas Pipeline Management with GIS: Key Benefits and Applications

In the energy and utilities sector, gas pipeline management is complex, requiring precision, safety, and a clear strategy for both existing infrastructure and future expansion. Geographic Information Systems (GIS) have revolutionized pipeline management by providing a spatially accurate, data-rich view of assets. From asset management and leak detection to route planning and demand forecasting, GIS is becoming indispensable for gas companies. This blog delves into the ways GIS transforms gas pipeline management, delivering benefits across safety, efficiency, cost-saving, and planning.

[snapghoul]

maverick & ethan twins au

It’s no better to be safe than sorry

A mission requires Ethan to steal something from the navy, good things he’s close to fighter town…right?

Notes: Stated it before, Ice is still alive in my Aus bc I miss him so much.

Warnings: none

Song: take on me - a-ha

This was a terrible decision, but it was necessary. Why did it have to be him? Ethan had no idea, but despite his senior agent status, the IMF still withheld crucial details. That’s why he had stolen one of his brother’s flight suits to access information on the Vice Admiral’s computer. Benji had already attempted to hack in remotely, but being a government asset would trigger alarms.

Please don’t be in the air. Ethan thought as he strode through the halls of Top Gun. For once, he felt guilty about impersonating his twin. They used to do it all the time as kids, but now it felt wrong. If Pete was up flying this would make it so much more difficult.

He tried to mimic his brother’s demeanor, realizing it had been a while since he’d seen Pete in a professional setting. Maybe he was coming off as too uptight or too much like 80s Maverick.

“Captain,” a passing aviator greeted him. Ethan nodded and smiled, noting he didn’t recognize them from the photos in Pete’s living room. They were likely not part of the Dagger squadron, the very people he wanted to avoid. More importantly Bradley, he couldn’t risk being recognized by the kid now.

“Ethan, hurry! The Commander just walked in, and the Vice Admiral isn’t in his office,” Benji’s voice crackled urgently in his ear and Ethan picked up his pace.

Ice coursed through Ethan’s veins. Iceman was here—Tom Kazansky, the commander and one of Pete’s closest friends. Tom had an uncanny ability to see through Ethan’s act, no matter how convincingly he mimicked his brother. Like his name suggested, he was as cold as ice. Ethan wouldn’t lie and say Tom scared him just a little.

There was commotion ahead of him, a voice he recognized immediately and it made his heart rate rise.

“Take a right now!” Benji snapped. Ethan wasted no time, darting into the nearest office. He closed the door quietly and glanced over his shoulder.

He froze.

“Ethan?” a familiar voice called.

“Pete,” he managed, forcing a strained smile. This was the first time he’d run into his brother while he was working.

“Pete? Who’s Pete?” Benji’s voice echoed in his ear, clearly confused.

Pete’s expression shifted as he took in Ethan’s appearance. They looked like reflections of each other.

“Why are you wearing my flight suit?”

“Do you have access to the data system?” they both asked simultaneously, surprise etched on their faces.

“Why do you need access?” Pete asked slowly, suspicion growing. He could tell Ethan was up to something, and he was questioning why he was sneaking around such a secure base.

“I need it,” Ethan said, stepping toward Pete’s desk and gesturing at the screen, as if his brother would just comply.

Pete remained unimpressed. “I can’t give you access. For one, I don’t have the clearance. And for another, what the hell are you doing?”

“All I need is to get Benji into the system. It has to be through a designated computer—” Ethan held up a seemingly ordinary USB drive. “Please, Pete, I need this. The IMF is hiding something, and we can’t let it go, especially not now.”

“I’m not letting you hack my computer, Ethan! That’ll flag me! Now I’m dragged into this because you decided to impersonate me!” Pete shook his head.

Ethan understood Pete’s hesitation; he realized he hadn’t thought this through completely. He was meant to access the Admiral’s computer instead.

“Okay, you’re right, 100%,” Ethan conceded, his tone softening. “But you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I just need the intel.”

Pete sighed, realizing this was likely a life-or-death situation—something world-ending, which was all too familiar with his brother.

“I promise it won’t be traced. Benji’s too good for them to catch it,” Ethan said, his smile almost pleading.

Pete pushed back in his chair, and Ethan quickly moved around to plug the USB into the PC. “Thank you—Benji, you got a connection?”

“Loading in now. Give me five minutes, and we’ll be out,” Benji replied in Ethan’s ear. He could almost hear the rapid clicks of Benji’s fingers on his laptop keyboard.

The twins stared at the monitor as files flickered by, Pete's expression tinged with annoyance.

“You owe me for this. If it leaks, I swear I’ll end you,” Pete said, his voice low but intense. Ethan nodded with a grin, aware that Pete rarely threatened, but this situation was risky. Fightertown was the closest airbase, and they had to be careful.

“I promise, it won’t get out. Just stay in your office when I leave. I have a plan—once I ditch this uniform.” Ethan tugged at the restrictive green fabric, feeling its constriction. It wasn't the worst outfit he'd worn, but certainly not his favorite.

“Got it!” Benji signaled, and Ethan swiftly pulled the USB from the port, slipping it into his flight suit pocket before stepping back.

“What’s wrong with my flight suit?” Pete asked, brow furrowed in mock offense. He practically lived in that uniform, and now his brother was throwing shade.

“Maverick, good to see you actually behaving—”

Their heads snapped up as the door opened, revealing a pair of cold, bright blue eyes behind clear glasses.

“Ice!” Pete exclaimed, his voice strained with forced cheer, while Ethan managed a tight smile. Benji, distracted by his search for the file, had completely overlooked the cameras—Ethan should’ve been more vigilant.

“Do I want to know?” Tom asked, arching an eyebrow as he adjusted his glasses. As the commander, he was privy to many secrets, but he knew that seeing the Mitchell twins in the same room looking like guilty toddlers was never a good sign.

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 22

"THE TEMPEST"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

To read Chapter 21 - "AMARANTHINE"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/762676548240277504/vagabonds-chapter-21?source=share

Word Count: 1.6 K

Background: What is Mad's fate? Can Hunter, Tech, LOVE, Tiggy, and newcomer Jeb escape the CX Trooper? Has LOVE's Force Powers gone too far???

MORE ACTION IN THIS CHAPTER!

For anyone new to this series: "LOVE" is the nonbinary/genderfluid neurodivergent/nonverbal Force sensitive kid of the main OC of this series named Mad. Mad is an older single mother, close to almost 50 years of age (not many older female protaganists in stories, so I decided to make one.)

Warning: SW Canon violence, blood, dog mauling human (defensive move for the doggo), swearing, angst, tragedy. Disclaimer: I wrote this chapter WELL BEFORE the mudslides and flooding in the south occurred. Hopefully this plot device is not offensive.

(Credit: Cool dividers by @4ngelic-Wh1spers, @plum98 @strangergraphics-archive Pinterest: You're Stuck With Me Skyguy, Mandry Club, )

Read to the music:

Tech attempted to comm Hunter. 

No answer. 

He heard and FELT an explosion. 

Tiggy screamed loudly, causing Tech to jump out of his skin.  She immediately ran for the open hatch.  Tech leapt catching her by the collar. 

“DAAB, TIGGY!  STAY!  STOP!!!”  No command helped as she dragged him across the Marauder’s floor. 

She sensed something was VERY WRONG.  Tech managed to engage his remote access closing the gangplank via arm link, then bearhugged Tiggy with both arms.  Her strength, even for a now medium sized canine, surprised him. 

Tiggy screamed and struggled violently as Tech wrapped his long gangly legs around her to prevent getting loose.  Committed dog that she was to her people, she never bit him, but alligator rolled growling. 

When the gangplank closed, Tech let go launching himself into the pilot seat starting up the Marauder’s engines.   

Tiggy continually threw herself at the closed gangplank. 

Over the noise of the Marauder’s engines Tech heard the strong rumble of thunder.  A fat raindrop splattered across the ship's windscreen. 

Taphao Kaew’s weather patterns SHOULD’NT support rain in THIS season...

The Marauder took off from the forest floor. 

LOVE caterwauled over Mad’s body.   

Hunter sensed a HUGE electromagnetic front forming quickly above them.  The sky ROILED as dark clouds blotted out the sun.  He leaned down over Mad and attempted to pick up her bloody body.  It was difficult to tell her status through the thousands of cuts she sustained from shrapnel during the blast. 

Though unconscious Mad was STILL breathing. 

LOVE started to cry HUGE wet tears.  They ran down their cheeks... 

The sky opened and a DELUGE of rain fell. 

Jeb appeared next to Hunter.  “The HELL this storm come from???   

“Blame it on us.” Hunter remarked as he eyed LOVE. 

Rain fell upon Mad’s body, washing the blood away temporarily.  He leaned across to shield her and drew his weapon.  Jeb drew his as well.  Both stood their ground...waiting. 

A blaster bolt rang through the smoke.  LOVE blocked it one handed. 

The CX Trooper stepped out into full view, leveling his rifle at LOVE, Hunter, and Jeb. 

He spoke in a hauntingly distorted voice “The clone, force sensitive, AND Jedi asset.  How convenient.” 

“I WON’T go willingly” Hunter growled.  “Won’t let you take ANYONE else, either.” 

“It’s not YOU I’m after.” CX sneered through his helmet. 

Hunter’s eyes widened.  This Trooper KNEW who he was...and about Omega too. 

Good thing she was safe on the Beldame. 

“Hand HER over and I’ll go easy on your squad.” CX nodded in Mad’s direction.  “That one too.” Nodding to LOVE. 

LOVE’S head slowly rose up to face the CX Trooper.  Eyes no longer yellow green...but bright CRIMSON RED! 

Hunter’s long hair slowly rose up and strained to stand on end.  His bandana held most of it back.  He could FEEL an electrical charge building. 

“LOVE...DON’T do it.”  Hunter tried his darndest to keep calm. 

They weren’t listening.  NOTHING was getting through.  His skin TINGLED! 

OH...SHIT!”  Hunter grabbed Jeb dragging him to the ground, then threw his own body over the boy and Mad. 

LOVE struggled to speak...”Nnnn...nnn...naaAAAHHHH!”  Then SCREAMED “NNN...NOOOO!!!” Face flushed as red as their eyes.

A bolt of lightning made explosive contact next to the CX Trooper.  He flew back with several trees falling and igniting into flames. 

LOVE, unhinged screamed outwardly over and over and over and over.  ALL of the fear, anger, and sadness emanated outward VIOLENTLY! 

More lightening strikes.   

Hunter heard the distant sounds of people SCREAMING...unsure if in fear...or injury... 

The rain picked up threefold, wind WAILING through the trees! 

Taphao Kaew’s soil couldn’t handle the sudden volume of water raining down.  The ground underneath gave way.  Hunter grabbed Mad with one hand and, LOVE with the other, then attempted to catch Jeb with both legs around his midsection.   

They splashed into a torrent of watery mud with a wickedly strong current.  It pulled them all downhill as a huge swath of earth cleaved away from the forest.  The water swallowed trees, land speeders, pushing parked ships up against the Rebel Base...collapsing the outer wall.  Then flowed around the building further downhill. 

Their group were pulled downhill towards the clearing...and the mess of trees, equipment, ships, assorted flotsam and jetsam.   

Hunter knew they would all be crushed in the wreckage or swallowed up in the mud. 

LOVE laid back, watery mud coursing around them.  The grey sky rained down into their eyes blurring everything in sight.  Mind clouded and FULL of anger.  Hate burning hot while the waters around them couldn’t cool their volatile emotions. 

“LOVE!  SNAP OUT OF IT!!!” attempting to get to them.  “WE NEED YOU!” Muddy water washed over Hunter’s helmet, silencing his pleas.  Luckily it was sealed tight to prevent leakage. 

A dark shadow blotted out the rain, as they slipped quickly down the ravine.  LOVE’S vision cleared as Tech brought the Marauder above them. 

The best he could do was drop rappelling lines to Hunter and hope he could reach them.  Tech opened Marauder’s bottom hatch...fully realizing Tiggy might jump out of the ship.  Tiggy was beyond listening and Tech needed both hands on the controls.   

He opened the doors and hoped for the best. 

Tiggy scrabbled across the deck flooring, sliding straight to the open space.  Tech grit his teeth. 

Miraculously she held onto the edge of the hatch, barking down into the gloom for all she was worth. 

The roar of the engines reached into LOVE’S ears.  Beneath that...barking.  LOVE realized Tiggy was on board the Marauder!  SOMEHOW she had managed to get aboard with LOVE unable to detect her presence. 

To LOVE’S faraway brain, it seems Tiggy was barking in Basic Standard... 

“BARK, BARK, BARK...WAKE UP!  WAKE UP!  WAKE UP!!!” 

LOVE’S eye widened, their head snapped up to see... 

...Hunter’s fist firmly gripping the front of LOVE’s tunic, his other arm disappeared under the water... 

...a long, wet shock of silver hair bobbed and flowed up from the watery depths...where Hunter feebly attempted to keep Mad’s head above water... 

Hunter’s legs wrapped around... a STORM TROOPER!   

The Trooper held on for dear life to Hunter’s right leg.  LOVE could hear his screams ringing out from the comm in his helmet. 

“LOVE!!!” Hunter yelled. 

The group suddenly bounced off immense tree roots, pushing Hunter’s head under the water again.  Mad’s head bobbed up above the surface, still unconscious. 

Hunter popped back up, while NEVER letting go...neither did Jeb.  Mad’s head disappeared underwater again. 

WHAT AM I DOING???  LOVE SCREAMED inside their head! 

They reached out with the Force...pushing...rising... 

LOVE levitated out of the water, pulling Hunter with them.  It took some work...he was heavier than he looked.  The violent current dragging their bodies made it even more difficult. 

Tech held The Marauder in place just above. 

In their mind, LOVE called out to the Force for help.  PLEADED even.  HELP ME...PLEASE!!! 

LOVE PUSHED...Mad emerged from the water where Hunter had a hold of the back of her robes... 

They pushed HARDER.  Muscles tensing to fever pitch...feeling as if they would split apart... 

Jebith emerged from the water, still grasping Hunter’s legs.   

LOVE pulled the group up, up, up... 

A strong JERK pulled the group down again.  There was another weight added... 

The CX Trooper grabbed onto Jeb’s legs scaling him like a rope!  He climbed up Jebith’s body, then Hunter’s...stopping to hold on and address Hunter eye to eye. 

“You shouldn’t have left your OWN behind!” CX taunted him. 

“Who the fuck ARE YOU???”  Hunter shouted.   

“YOU chose THEM over your BROTHERS!” The voice, while distorted sounded Reg-like...mixed with another familiar voice. 

“...Crosshair???”  Hunter grasped at straws...the body type wasn’t thin enough...but he hadn’t seen his brother for some time... 

“Your misguided alliance will COST you!” CX refused to answer Hunter’s question. 

Instead, he viciously kicked Jebith free from Hunter’s grasp.  The young trooper screamed as he fell, then hit the water, disappearing into the muddy rolling depths. 

Hunter kneed CX in the crotch while headbutting him.   

CX’s grip released.  He slipped down... 

Drawing his vibroblade unthinkably quick... 

Stabbing Hunter’s upper thigh just below the hip expertly between the armor.  Sinking it deeply into soft tissue. 

Hunter SCREAMED in agony!  CX pulled himself up on the blade, grabbing the hair on Mad’s head, flipping her head up to face him. 

“Pity.  She’s dead.” He scoffed at her pale face and blue lips. 

He let go of her then proceeded to climb up Hunter towards LOVE. 

LOVE had almost reached the bottom hatch of the Marauder.  Hunter sensed LOVE needed to be free of the weight of the bodies below them. 

Hunter yelled out to LOVE “I’VE GOT THIS!  DO WHAT YOU DO!!!” 

He let go. 

CX slipped back down, holding onto Hunter’s shoulders. 

Hunter sensed a large presence arrive and blot out the Marauder as he punched CX in the throat. 

He and Mad fell, as Hunter caught the rappelling cable attached to the Marauder.  He never let go of Mad.   

CX gagged, letting go of Hunter, then engaged his own rappelling line upward.  He kicked away and zipped upward quickly towards LOVE. 

LOVE, still levitating, reached out to push CX away as he stunned them.  

He caught LOVE’s body as it fell... 

Tiggy leapt out of the Marauder, hitting him like a ton of bricks. Biting, scratching, mauling the CX Trooper. 

He screamed and swore as he zipped away towards his ship, still holding LOVE. 

Hunter rode his line up through the Marauder’s bottom hatch, setting Mad down.  

“TECH, FOLLOW THAT SHIP!”  He barked.  “TROOPER HAS LOVE AND TIGGY!!!” 

“On it!” Tech closed the hatch, engaging the Marauder.  As he watched the CX Trooper zipline into his ship, closing the hatch. 

Ignoring the searing pain of the knife buried in him, Hunter leaned over Mad.  He fumbled at opening her mouth to scoop out wet debris clearing her airway.  Then started breaths and compressions...

To read Chapter 23 - "RETREAT"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/763930279133970432/vagabonds-chapter-23?source=share

Please let me know if you wanted to be added to my taglist or removed! Thanks so much for your support!!!

[makoredeyes]

What's a favorite lore piece you've read for the sake of writing fics?

Oh goodie you gave me a good one here because I love to screech about this one whenever given the chance because I don't think a lot of people have ever noticed this.

This Grimoire card is from the Rise of Iron expansion in D1 and is one of Rasputin's Logs. It's what appears* to be his knee-jerk reaction to the Iron Lords' break in to Site 6 where SIVA is kept.

I reference this lore directly in my Isochronism fics, but it's also one of my absolute favorites regarding Rasputin, Felwinter, and SIVA because of some of the fascinating little details that, so many years further down the road into the story, we can pick out of it. I'll unpack it for us, but TLDR Rasputin is a fucking LIAR.

Rasputin likes to keep his records in some pretty purple prose code so I'll start by decoding most of the terms he uses here, and then I'll back up and loosely translate it for us all.

--

YUGA SUNDOWN- cancels all protocols for protecting humanity/activates MIDNIGHT EXIGENT

MIDNIGHT EXIGENT - long term counterattack protocol and moral structure change. Essentially allows Rasputin to ignore morals for the 'greater good'

[O] Means the Traveler /ie [O] Energy = Lightbearers

SKYSHOCK - usually there's other qualifiers attached to this but it indicates hostiles of an unprecedented scale

AURORA RETROFLEX - A defense subroutine - presumed to be for when Rasputin is directly threatened

SUBTLE ASSETS IMPERATIVE - Meaning this is in secret/does not escape Rasputin's records

SCRY OVERSIGHT - is an observation protocol but here is used in conjunction with SILENT VELES which means effectively "no oversight"

--

I'm going to start by pointing out that that very first line indicates SOMEONE gained unauthorized access into a terminal and managed to cancel at least one of Rasputin's protocols (YUGA SUNDOWN). Ballsy AF and imo pretty uncanny that they were even remotely successful. Rasputin immediately reverses this, but I can only assume the only person who would know to do this in the first place, let alone have the capabilities, would be Felwinter, especially among the Iron Lords, who appear to file in next in the very next line.

Rasputin records the arrival of the Iron Lords as a mighty surprise, and responds to them, in this record, as such, and as a threat.

This is incongruous with his admission later to Ana and the Guardian that he deliberately lured Felwinter (and his people) there deliberately. In this record, Rasputin has gone, "oh holy shit what the hell is that turn off all my moral structures I don't know what the hell those things are fire everything purge it all kill it kill it kill it!"

*And also I'm going to turn off my body camera (see SCRY OVERSIGHT + SILENT VELES) and don't ask permission or tell anyone ever (SUBTLE ASSETS IMPERATIVE)

Even though he made sure they found this vault.

This is all 1000% deliberate, premeditated, and a forged record my friends.

Edit: *semi- forged, or perhaps more accurately greatly bending the truth. Sylenth makes some damn good points in the comments that I kind of glossed over on my analysis and kind of took for granted but she’s right and it should be pointed out.

(also, worth noting, that REPLICATE.ELIMINATE.IMMUNIZE imperative sent to SIVA that is recorded here is different than what is recorded elsewhere also)

[kayann9]

The Magic of Wine

Thank you all again! I am on play through 2 of BG3 and still can't stop myself romancing the wizard! Send help!

A little one shot from the Tiefling Party: definitely some innuendo in this one. Just a little flirtation and frolicking!

Pairing: Gale X F Tav (Serena)

Words: 718

Rating: M for mature

Thank you all in advance if you do read anything I write :)

By the Gods he’d had too much wine.

Over a year since Gale had attended anything resembling a party and he’d managed to embarrass himself by indulging far too much in the cheap alcohol and comparing the woman he could not help but feel an inherent attraction to, to a tressym. A tressym that he cared deeply for but how was she ever fully meant to grasp that concept.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

When had he become so useless?

Had he not been the lover of a goddess?

And now, now he was perplexed by a mortal? It had not even occurred to him on this most bizarre of journeys that he would be even remotely interested in anyone, yet here he was, watching her as she danced around the group, whilst everyone vied for her attention.

Serena had worn her hair down tonight; something he hadn’t seen yet. It had oddly caught him off guard having only seen her in the damaged armour she’d grabbed from the Nautiloid and being seemingly perpetually covered in blood. Of course, he’d seen she was beautiful from his first glance, he was nothing if not appreciative of finer things in life, but now she looked truly resplendent. Her glowing smile and the tiniest of flirtations she’d thrown his way, had left his already slightly broken knees even weaker.

He sipped more wine against his better judgement.

Serena seemed to be in deep conversation with the First Druid. Another admirer, he’d concluded.

He’d supposed, after hearing listening to the flirtations of the others, that she was quite the woman; naturally charismatic, fierce and unyielding but, most importantly in his eyes, kind. She’d jumped in to help this place without a second thought. She’d jumped in the fight with the goblins with no questions. She’d saved the tiefling child with not a murmur or need to recompense. She’d stood in front of a cross bow, arms folded and gaze unwavering, as if staring down death itself. Goodness was something he hadn’t been too privy to in Faerûn.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you to dance?” Serena’s light tone swam through his mind and he had to shake his head to regain some sense. “I always imagined a learned wizard would be quite practised in a dance.”

The wine drifted through him logic once again. “I am practised in many things, but dancing is not one of them.”

She lifted an eyebrow, the look he’d worked out meant trouble for him. “Oh, do tell.”

His mouth dried but his conviction forced him to ignore it, along with the smirk on her lips. “As you are probably aware, a scholar of my nature, research is my main focus; there is nothing I enjoy more than curling up with a book in the study of a new topic.”

“So, attentive.”

“Most definitely. And let’s not forget, a wizard’s hands are his most valuable asset. Deliberate ministrations are most important in the accurate casting of spells, particularly at the level I was operating at.”

“Good with your hands.” Serena nodded. “Check.”

Confusion flooded him for the briefest of moments, until he watched her teeth drag across her lips.

“I imagine, wizards are also fairly proficient with their mouths. It would do no good to have a slovenly incantations along with those deliberate ministrations.” Serena sipped her wine, grinning as he moved from foot to foot.

“I, well, yes. I have been known to be talented in the art of verbosity.” Gale straightened his spine, regaining the shred of composure he had left, ignoring the swirling in chest. “I had no idea you had taken such an interest in the ways of The Weave.”

“Yes, The Weave, that’s what I am interested in.” She winked and laughed. “I shall leave you to your wine and your verbosity mighty Wizard.. However, if you do find yourself taking an interest in dancing, please consider me as tutor.” She curtseyed before twirling away towards the music.

“I would consider nobody else.” He called after her, trying to convince himself that the secret smile she threw him as she moseyed away was nothing more than a figment of a highly over-active imagination.

The dangerous flutter of the dark magic beneath his skin, told a very different story.