#but I like it (it has a cool wheel and buttons and shit)

[herbarimoon]

"and before I knew it you consumed me whole"

[httpsserene]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʀᴛᴜᴀʟ ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴏᴛᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴡ/ᴍᴠ33

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you start showing interest in sim racing. max's only option is to turn you into the best virtual-racer there ever was--well besides himself, of course. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: fluff. brain vomit. formatting (done on mobile💀). tiniest explicit reference. not edited. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: headcanons & smau 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: word on the streets • key glock

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: thought about this the whole time i was working. and then some man had the exact same voice as max and i genuinely almost dissolved into thin air because i felt like max was punishing me for thinking about this on the clock :) anyways, hope u enjoy the brainrot, loves !!!

wanna be on my taglist ? send me an ask !

and yes, i did make a masterlist !

*whispers* next f1 kinktober fic this weekend

you were probably unaware that sim racing was even a thing until you started dating max

like you’ve seen the funny little twitch clips of people playing driving simulators and being absolute menaces on the road, but you never knew actual virtual racing was a thing

anyways, whether or not you consider yourself a gamer in this scenario, you’ve always been pretty down to play videogames with max.

he absolutely annihilates you in FIFA, and no matter how much he tries to help you, you’re a lost cause

in return, you embarrass him in COD; he should’ve looked at your kd-ratio before he tried to play with you

but, sim racing 🧐

i mean, like, you never even fully considered that you could sim race at all, like not for leisure at least

max takes that shit seriously, he’s a part-time f1 driver full time simracing twitch streamer 😤

you are always around watching him practice on the sim, playing the f1 games, and even tuning in for his iracing competitions

at first, whenever max would stream you would probably be doing other things with your time

your hair, cleaning, self-care, cooking, etc.

eventually, you started migrating to sitting on the couch off-camera and watching him drive irl instead of having the stream on in the background

you were originally like, “oh it’s just because i wanna drool over his massive veiny hands” 🤤

but now it’s like “oh i wonder what each button he presses with his nicely proportioned fingers on the steering wheel does?”

and slowly it transforms from “wow my boyfriend is so cool” to “wait…this sim-racing thing is kinda cool”😵‍💫

now imagine you being like “lol wait a minute now” and being like i'm only interested in because my boyfriend loves it 🤥

in order to disprove this theory you start to ask max questions about virtual racing

not that you wouldn’t before, but they were fairly surface level; now you’re asking him about tactics, strategies, and track conditions etc.

and max is fucking thrilled 🫨🫨🫨 !!!

he eagerly answers all your questions (maxplaning 🥱), going way more into depth than you were expecting, but what did you think was going to happen

max is always happy to ramble about any small facet of virtual racing (doesn’t matter if it’s the sim, or iracing, or f1 2023) but

it makes him really pleased that you’re showing a genuine interest in it because most people don’t

you support him in anything he wants to do wholeheartedly, and listening and answering your well thought out questions has him falling head over heels for you again

so, he thinks nothing of it other than you being the best girlfriend he’s ever had and trying to learn more about what he loves

his previous girlfriends didn’t really care to understand how important vr racing was to him

they all just saw it as him playing a “game” and him wasting time when they could’ve been on dates or smth

anyways

everything is going fine and dandier, max continues to answer all of your vr racing questions, and you continue to watch him pilot the sim

until, he catches you watching a beginner’s guide on f1 2023 and get’s so jealous 😒

bro is all like “wtf, you’re watching some lame ass unranked gamer when i’m your professional driver boyfriend who does this for a living?? hell nah if you want to start playing i’ll teach you”

you’re just like, “nahhhh….i don’t want to waste your time trying to teach me, it’s not worth it. i’m not even a good driver irl, so—“

max shuts that down expeditiously

if his girlfriend wants to start vr racing, he only has one option

make you the best virtual racer there ever was (excluding him)

you’re wide-eyed like, “i just wanna go vroom vroom in circles for fun 😭”

max deathly serious, “that was never an option”

he enlists you in his virtual-racing training camp

if you are aware of the disney rapid training montage where the mc sings one song and suddenly they’re the best fighter ever, that’s how i imagined it

mulan, for example, i’ll make a man out of you

max reveals his inner george russell, he becomes a power point king

instead of date nights being cute pottery classes—they turn into him teaching you the parts of the car, the buttons on the wheel, f1 2023 settings breakdowns, reviewing iracing competitions etc.

eventually max finally allows you to play on the sim after he thinks you’ve got the theory down pretty good

you suck at first 🤗

but then you start clocking in some hours

after work, during your “lunch break”, using the sim while max is gone and playing during all the practice and media sessions

whenever max is gone, and you have any questions or ask for feedback on how to get better, you text him all about it, of course not expecting an immediate response back

max has told you before that he likes getting out of the car after a practice session and checking his phone to see all the missed messages from you with some wishing him luck and the others asking for his thoughts on your strategies

one day, he’s going for lunch with some of the other drivers and they start to make fun of him for how he’s stuck in his phone, heart-eyes and all as he rapidly texts you

they probably think that you’re sending him cute texts or photos like that one time they caught him looking at photos of you and learned he had a locked photo album of you on his phone ☠️

max remains unbothered under their teasing thinking, “they don’t know my gf can out pace them by .200 in f1 2023”

max even personally bothers christian into getting him another sim for you

christian is so tired of you two, max won’t leave him ALONE

i think max would text his team principal screenshots of your lap times and make jokes about it

“if checo keeps dnf-ing, my gf can fill in”

christian gets you the goddamn sim 😒

y’all procrastinate on building and calibrating it, max more so because it means his chair would stop smelling like you 🥺

you get it set up, but you still play on his sim every once in a while after he told you that because you’re a simp

he goes to stream one day, planning on practicing with the redline team for an upcoming iracing event

and the man almost BREAKS HIS LEGS trying to sit down because you forgot to move the chair back after you were done using it 😭😭

in between his groan of pain he let’s it slip “ow fuck, my girlfriend forgot to move the seat back after she was done”

chat goes ducking crazy

yooo, what? ur gf sim races???

is she good???

max is like “hell fucking yeah my girlfriend is great sim racer, she could replace one of the boys at redline if she wanted too!”

(team redline sweats anxiously, mics now suspiciously silent)

max continues, “well she is not as great as me, but she’s good i guess”

stream chat “they are going to have babies that completely dominate f1” “if their babies are born in the netherlands we will be stuck in purgatory cursed with hearing the dutch anthem forever”

max continues with his practice but everyone is begging to see you play, even some of the redline guys are asking questions

they wanna know if they’re really at risk of you stealing their seat

max gives up and turns to you on the couch with a smile and says, “i will beg, schatje. do not put it past me, we all want to see you drive. some people are saying i’m lying so you have to prove them wrong🙇🏼”

you’re like “what 😅 no 😧i suck 🤭 at this 🤗” but you’re already getting up and walking over to boot up your sim

the urge to flex on people and embarrass them is something both you and max share

max opens f1 2023 and starts a party for just you two, and you both decide to do quali laps at zandovoort

you do your hot lap first, and max goes after you

max y’ know, probably thinks that he can take it relatively easier on you, there’s no reason to put 100% effort into something for fun, so he puts in 95% 😀 (competitive boy)

and you know that one nepenthez meme

that’s how this goes

max is like, already rambling to the stream “yeah that’s a comfortable p1, she still has a lot to learn before she can beat a world champ—P2??!!!! 😧😳”

you’re just in the background in your sim chair, turned facing the camera with an innocent little smirk smile on your face ☺️

you got pole by .050, and chat starts bullying max, the redline boys laughing hysterically in his headphones

max requests a rematch and promptly annihilates you :)

i like to imagine that eventually you start joining max’s stream and the two of yous start having little racing tournaments whenever you guys have the time

omg could you imagine the little championship ceremony where you put party hats on jimmy and sassy and have fake little tiny gold trophies for whoever wins 🥹

imagine one day ‼️ you actually start doing iracing events, and just working your way up to being one of the best 😌

ANYWAYS to wrap it up, best teacher max ever

virtual racing 🤝 strong relationships

twitter • today

instagram

maxverstappen1 • 32 mins ago

liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo3, and 7,324,122 ofhers

maxverstappen1 the only woman for me 🧎🏼

tagged yninstagram

view comments

yninstagram baby. baby—😭😭😭😭

➥ maxverstappen1 i love you

➥ yninstagram what the fuck has gotten into you 😳 i love you, maxy 🫶🏽

user the way ‼️ he cradles ‼️ her head 😭😭

danielricciardo3 this genuinely the sappiest thing max has ever said

➥ maxverstappen1 do not worry daniel you are the only man for me

➥ user my therapist will be hearing about this

user the fact that max personally handmade that meme 💀

user never thought i’d see the day that max uses the kneeling emoji

➥ maxverstappen1 i’m on my knees for her more often than you think

➥ user alRIGHT go ahead and clock out for me 😒

➥ redbullracingf1 do you remember the media training we had two days ago, max?

taglist: @lorarri | @saintslewis | @cherry2stems | @sweetpiccolo-blog

© httpsserene2023

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 21

part 1 | part 20 | ao3

“Right?” Steve asks, scratching his head as he glances back at the door. 

“No, I meant you, dingus! What the fuck was that with you?” 

Steve feels his face go hot. “What? What do you mean?” 

She throws her hands in the air, stomping over so she can get in his face and say, “Don’t ‘what do you mean’ me. Your faces” —she lifts her hands like she’s about to applaud, palms hovering an inch apart— “were like thiiis close to just…”

She claps them together, and Steve feels the blood drain right back out of his face, dread pooling in his gut as she twists her palms this way and that, like two people tilting their heads to kiss deeper. Oh, god. Oh, god. Were they—? 

“Mwah,” Robin says helpfully, mashing her hands more tightly together. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah—”  

Steve grabs her by the wrist. “Dude. Stop.” 

She drops her hands and stares at him — one of those Detective Buckley looks, combing over every inch of his soul for missed clues — and then her mouth does some horribly self-satisfied thing that he hates. “If I didn’t know any better,” she draws, “I’d say someone has a crush.” 

I’d say someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a

Steve’s gonna pass out. The words feel like bile in his brain, acidic and sharp; like puking right after chugging a glass of orange juice. It’s not like he’s— 

Look, he knows that he’s— but—

The bell dings. Thank fucking Christ. A big family group, three generations of people talking and laughing and fussing over a baby in a stroller and carrying leftovers from the Italian place down the strip. 

Steve sags in relief. 

Robin hisses in his ear, “We are so not done talking about this.”

—

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

About Eddie, about the word Robin lobbed at him like a lit bottle rocket, about any of it.

Just thinking about it is giving him a stomach ulcer and a migraine and maybe an aneurysm, too. 

He was hoping he made that obvious enough during the last hour of their shift that Robin would just drop it, but that girl has never dropped a single thing in her life. Worse than Nancy, the little bloodhound. Steve saw this documentary once about crocodiles; remembers how they can lock their jaws shut after clamping down on their prey with up to 4000 PSI of pressure. 

That’s enough pressure to cut a person’s arm off with a jet of water. 

Damn, nature’s cool.

“Steve!” 

You know who’s not cool? 

“Steve!” Robin hollers again over the song he’s currently blasting to drown her out on the drive home. “Steve, you can’t use ABBA against me like this!”

Steve ignores her protests, responds by shout-singing “DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN, OOH OOOOOH” at her in his most nasal falsetto because he absolutely can and will use ABBA against her like this, and it works like a charm. He’s pretty sure this song has, like, hypnotic power over her or something, because every time without fail she gives the answering “ooh-oo-oo-ooh-ooh-oooooh” as if on auto-pilot.

“HEY!” she shouts when she realizes what she’s doing. “No sir!” She reaches over and mashes the volume button. 

Silence falls over the car. Sucks the air out of Steve’s lungs in the sudden void; his ears adjust slowly, picking up the quiet thrum of the engine, the whispered whoosh of the wind outside. Is he ever going to get used to being kind-of-sort-of-deaf? This shit sucks.

“...Okay, look,” Robin says tentatively. She’s staring at the side of his head, and he keeps his eyes on the road; tightens his grip on the wheel. “We don’t have to talk about you, okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about with me.”

“Right!” she rushes to agree. Playing along like they don’t both know that’s bullshit. “Totally.”

Steve risks a glance at her. Her expression is earnest, some full-paragraph silent communication like: whatever bathroom-floor-confessional crisis you’re having, we can leave it alone for now. We can let it stay hidden in the dark corners for a little longer; I promise I’ll put my flashlight down. 

“Totally,” Steve echoes, nodding at her. 

“Okay. Cool. Cool…”

She lets out a long breath, cheeks puffing out as she sits on her hands. Oh, my god, just spit it out. “Can we please talk about him, though?”

—

part 22

tag list pt. 1 below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow (heads up i'm not tagging any new under 21 or ageless blogs unless we’re mutuals or you dm me to verify your age. gonna purge this list when i get some free time)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[maybe-im-dark]

Half the boyfriend, half the fun

The first thing Wade felt was cold. Not the gentle coolness of an autumn breeze or the refreshing chill of freshly fallen snow. No, this was a biting, numbing cold. His vision was blurry and his body felt...off. he tried to move but nothing happened. As he blinked away the fog in his brain and looked down at himself the realization hit him like a punch in the gut —his legs were gone.

"Crap!", he muttered in a raspy voice.

Slowly the memories returned. He and Logan had been on a mission, targeting a group of small-time criminals, who had holed up in the woods. Get there, take them out, get the cash, done. But apparently something had gone horribly wrong.

"Logan?", he called out.

No answer.

Panic flared as he looked around the wooded area. Using his arms, he began to crawl foward, twigs and pine needles digging into his stomach. Not caring for the blood trail he left behind. A few yards away he spotted Logan and the sight made his heart skip a beat. Logan looked just as bad, if not worse. Instead of being cut, his body was ripped off at one of the vulnerable intervertebral discs, that were not adamantium, torn apart brutally. One half of his metal spine was sticking out of his torso, glinting against the bloodied mess of torn skin, flesh and tendons.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Wade mumbled, dragging himself as quickly to Logan's side, as his upper half would allow. "Come on, peanut, don't do this to me!"

Logan's healing factor was strong, but unlike Wade, he couldn't regrow limbs. They needed to be attached to his body, for the wounds to start closing. Unfortunately Logan's lower half was nowhere in sight. Wade's mind raced. His belt was nearby, scattered in a pile of dried leaves. Wade rolled onto his side, grabbing it. Thankfully his Hello Kitty fliphone —small enough to fit into one of the tiny pockets— was in there for emergencies.

His fingers shook so badly that it was difficult to press the small buttons. As he went through the contact list, the adrenaline started to wear off and the pain set in. Today was really turning out to be a shit day.

The phone barely rang twice, before Dopinder picked up.

"Hey, Mr. Pool, what can i do for you on this fine day?", the cab driver's familiar thick indian accent greeted him.

"Cut the chit-chat, Dopinder! Shit has hit the fan and it's flying everywhere! Get to the coordinates i'm sending, stat!"

He hung up, quickly typing in their location and hitting send twice in agitation.

It didn't take long. Ten minutes later, Wade heard the distant screech of tires as Dopinder slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop. Dopinder hurried over, as fast as he could on the uneven ground. When he saw Wade and Logan, he looked as though he was about to puke, pressing a hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, i know! America's next topmodel isn't in our future anytime soon! Now pull yourself together for fuck's sake!", Wade yelled. "You need to help me find Logan's legs. They're around here somewhere."

Dopinder nodded, his legs wobbling, as he searched the area. A moment later he returned, cradling Logan's legs to his chest like a baby. They were still inside the yellow pants and blue boots. And why would they have undressed him? Surely nobody was that sick. Wade pushed the distracting thoughts aside.

"Alright Dopinder", he instructed, trying his best to sound calm. "Attach them to his torso. He'll up on his own."

Dopinder followed the instructions, carefully pressing Logan's lower half against his upper body. Nothing happened. Logan's wounds remained open, his body still split in two.

"Maybe...maybe he's already dead?" Dopinder suggested, looking uneasy at Logan's unconscious form.

"No, he's just passed out", Wade said. Then quietly to himself: "I hope he stays that way. I'd rather he didn't have to see this sight himself."

The wheels inside Wade's brain turned as he wracked his brain for what to do next. "We need to prevent his body parts from dying off! Ice! We need ice! Dopinder get us to a gas station, quick!"

Wade grabbed Logan's legs and Dopinder hoisted him under one arm and Logan's torso under the other, rushing back to the car. Wade maneuvered himself onto the passenger's seat as Dopinder carefully laid Logan's halves on the backseat.

Then he sped off, ignoring speed limits, though to Wade the drive still felt far too slow. Every red light cost them precious minutes. Finally they pulled up to the first gas station and Dopinder sprinted inside.

Desperately Wade turned to look at Logan. His skin was ashen with deep shadows under his eyes, that hadn't been there before.

"Hold on, honey", Wade whispered, reaching out to gently stroke Logan's disheveled dark brown hair.

A tingling sensation ran through Wade, as he realized, with some relief, that small stumps were beginning to form below his hips. His own legs were regenerating, at last. At least something was working as it should.

Dopinder returned, carrying two large plastic containers and several bags of crushed ice. He filled both containers two the brim with ice, carefully placing Logan's upper half in one and his lower half in the other.

"This is sick! Just sick!" Dopinder murmured as he took in the sight.

"Quit whining and drive to the mansion!" Wade barked.

Dopinder swallowed. But...shouldn't he be in a hospital?"

Wade rolled his eyes. "Yeah and what are you going to tell the doctors? 'Oh the guy in pieces here is actually a mutant with self healing powers, that aren't working right now. If you could fix him up, please!' Newsflash: Most people aren't too fond of mutants! These anti-mutant-propaganda-posters all over the city aren't just for show!"

Dopinder opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, nodding stiffly. He got behind the wheel and drove off. On one hand Wade felt guilty for going off on him. It wasn't fair. But on the other hand, he didn't give a fuck. Right now Logan's wellbeing wad all that mattered, everything else could wait.

"The gate's closed!" Dopinder said as they approached the mansion.

The school was an imposing building from the 19th century made of grey stones, its turrets and bay windows making it look more like a castle.

"Should we...announce ourselves?"

Wade shook his head. "Just drive right through!"

Dopinder floored it, crashing through the gate. The metal wings bend inward, scraping the sides of the car with a horrible screech as a shower of sparks flew across the windshield. Whatever. The professor could cover the damage; the old fart was loaded.

Dopinder parked, leaping out of the car. Wade wadled behind him on his tiny stumps.

"Help!" Dopinder screamed, pounding on the entrance door. "We need help!"

"Yeah, we have a medical emergency! Screw what Professor Egghead says, come out here!" Wade joined in.

The door swung open revealing Hank McCoy in a white lab coat over a beige cable-knit sweater and corduroy pants.

"Mr Wilson, i believe we made it clear, that you are not welcome here! And to have the audacity to insult the professor..."

"Come off it, cookie monster! Logan's badly injured and he won't heal!" Wade cut him off.

Hank adjusted his glasses, irritated. "Yes, yes. I'll take a look at him right away."

"Oh my stars and garters!", he exclaimed as he saw Logan's body halves in the ice-filled containers.

"Holy crap!"

Jean Grey had joined them, without Wade noticing. Not exactly ladylike to curse like that. Did Cyclops know his fiancée used such language?

Using telekinesis, Jean carefully levitated Logan's body parts, guiding them as she and Hank rushed back to the mansion. Wade followed as quickly as his stubby legs would allow.

"What are you gonna do? Will he be okay? Why...?"

The door slammed shut in his face.

Outraged, he turned to Dopinder. "Really? They're just leaving the readers with a cliffhanger like that? Well, to be continued i guess."

[dr-spectre]

You mentioned something about Splatoon 4 thoughts earlier today, and I really wanna hear you ramble about that. But I also really wanna listen to you ramble about a Hypno Callie rewrite lmao. So if you haven't already, since there's a good chance I missed it lol, what would a Spectre Hypno Callie rewrite look like?

OH DUDE NOW YOU'RE GETTING ME ALL PUMPED UP TEHEHEHEHE! ITS TIME FOR ME TO RAMBLE!!! Imma go ultra autism on you!!! It's gonna border on fanfiction territory! (Not the creepy or romantic kind...) Don't say that I didn't warn you...

Splatoon 4 Ideas.

Now here's the thing right. I only have a few ideas on a Splatoon 4 so I don't think I can do a giant ramble about it yet. But so far I got the idea of Splatoon 4 taking place in a giant futuristic city near the beach. So you get this cool plaza area near the beach and I got that idea from the AMAZING Project Splatoon 3. Seriously go check that out, it is amazing!!!!!!!

But you can also go into the city and explore some of it. And you can ride a bike to different shops and have your own apartment!!! I know people want apartments for the next game and yeah I agree. We NEED an apartment maker, it's the next logical step from lockers!

Also for weapons... I would LOVE to have a flamethrower weapon but instead of fire it's mist. A crank operated shooter made out of bike gears where you gotta keep spamming the ZR button, kind of like the Octoshower's weapon. A Wii Zapper charger!!! PLEASE NINTENDO! A saw blade Splatana. Maybe a pool noodle Inkbrush? That would be funny. Maybe a Painbrush that has a fan on it? Man... I'm starting to sound like Sheldon HAHAHA!

For the new Idols, it would be a duo instead of a 3 Idol group because oh my god 3 team Splatfests are so unbalanced sometimes. They would have the colors red and cyan. I don't have much on what they would look like, but I imagine one of them is a female Inkling with a cyan color and the other is a male octoling with a red color. It's time we have a proper God damn male Idol that isn't a giant manta ray!!! Now since I cannot draw for shit and I don't have the desire to draw (drawing has made me so angry so multiple times so I stick to writing and rambling) so I'll just show some pics to show you what kind of vibe I'm going for.

(Yes I'm not fucking joking. I've gotten inspiration from Silver the Hedgehog and Spider-Punk...)

I think it would be an interesting dynamic to have a fancy, highly teched out character paired up with a grungy and punk character who's loud and funny. I can imagine their music to be futuristic and techno while including segments of rock. Basically techno rock with romantic elements in it.

I would like some quality of life improvements and just general improvements as well, like being able to customize EVERY part of your look without having to go through that annoying character creation menu in the crater. Faster levelling up for abilities, ability drinks and food actually giving you which ability you want instead of a chance at it. Way more pants and a pants shop. WAY MORE hairstyles, eye colors with an option to select from a color wheel, eyebrows, scar and tattoo options too with a new tattoo vendor. (the tattoos are explained in game to be temporary ones even though they secretly aren't, to make sure parents don't get the wrong idea lmao)

Maybe some gameplay tweaks too? like including very slight momentum when going downhill? It has to be very slight though for balance. I would like to add a dolphin dive like mechanic where if you press the jump button in the air in your swimming form, you'll quickly stomp to the ground, and that speed will be carried over when swimming in ink for a little while. Maybe faster horizontal wall swimming too? Basically make the gameplay a little bit faster is all I'm trying to say, Splatoon doesn't need a giant gameplay overhaul, just small tweaks to make the last game seem worse to play lmao.

And of course, BETTER SERVERS! WE NEED DEDICATED SERVERS! NOW!!!!!!!!!!! EVEN IF ITS JUST A FEW IT'LL BE SOOOOOO HELPFUL! STOP BEING STUPID NINTENDO! GOD!

Um... anyways!

Now, in terms of story.... I would have 3 parts, one is the main campaign while the other two are DLC. The main campaign is focused on the Salmonids. You play as a new agent (Agent X or something, i think that's a cool name) as you explore these islands Super Mario 64 style where you do missions and try and stop the Salmonids from getting out of control as they gone on a rampage from an unknown cause. You have to complete enough missions on an island to go to the next.

Basically, think of Salmon Run maps and areas found in Mario games but they are WAY LARGER and more complex areas to go through with NPCs to talk to. I really want Splatoon 4 to expand on the concepts found in the hub worlds in Alterna and go fully into a 3D Mario sandbox style game.

You also have to team up with Frye, Big Man, Neo Agent 3 and Marie who join up with a new cast of characters who are in charge of guiding you to new islands (haven't thought much about what these characters are) to figure out what's going on. Callie doesn't appear in the story as it's explained in a Sunken Scroll that Callie is helping Octavio figure out what to do with the Fuzzy Octarians that are still trapped in Alterna. And yes Octavio has now fully joined the New Squidbeak Splatoon which Callie is very ecstatic about.

Cuttlefish is fully retired and doesn't appear, and Captain is taking a break from captain duties, leaving Marie to watch over Frye and Big Man as she is their boss anyways. Now, where is Shiver in all this? Well... here me out... she's the villain. And no she doesn't have any sort of bullshit evil headgear on. She's a villain due to being corrupted by greed and wanting more power. She has become addicted to the high she gets from winning and feeling powerful and has teamed up with the Salmonids to gain even more power and cash. She's been fully consumed by power and cash and Frye and Big Man are not on board with her plans as Shiver doesn't wanna give back to the people in Splatsville anymore. So Shiver leaves the group and gathers up the Salmonids and commands them.

However it's revealed that Shiver is doing these things because she had a bad family upbringing in her clan and was always talked down to and treated as weak. So all that trauma and resentment is finally on the surface and Shiver is lashing out at everyone because her pain is so much for her. There could be some themes about found families and healing trauma with the people that you love and stuff like that. Haven't thought too deeply about it. But I would really love to see Deep Cut forgive Shiver and just hug and cry it out. I'll cry alongside them lol.

Now, the second story is focused on the Squid Sisters and takes place before the events of the main campaign. You play as Agent 4 and Callie finds you lying on the floor and tells you that Inkopolis Plaza has been covered in a strange fog and a weird green substance that looks like gooey moss. The buildings have changed and there's all this weird plant life and dust everywhere. Callie escorts you to the tower found in Inkopolis Plaza to figure out where Marie went and that's where you meet Octavio who got shot down in his mech from a laser.

The three go inside and the building looks very similar to the aesthetics of Side Order but with a hospital liminal space edge to it. It looks like a twisted dream hospital environment with a giant lobby in the middle.

This kind of vibe but more open and less hallway like. It should invoke the feeling of going to a hospital as a kid.

However, instead of an elevator to go higher, it's a giant spiraling staircase that grows after each floor Agent 4 completes. Basically the gameplay is the same as the rogue like gameplay found in Side Order but its heavily expanded upon with new enemies, objectives, color chips, etc. However... during the first 12 floors you hear these weird whispers and voices that sound very similar to Marie's voice.... Callie says she's getting major Deja Vu, and then Marie's voice is fully clear and echoes throughout the building, telling Callie in specific to leave her alone and to get out of here. They don't listen and continue forward.

When you reach the 12th floor, you go inside a giant white chamber and you see Marie in a new outfit that's similar to this outfit found in the Splatoon 2 artbook. Basically this but with a cool cloak and squid tentacle patterns on it and a gas mask instead of shades.

She's standing on some kind of green gooey moss and looks angry. Marie attacks Agent 4 with her charger and its a stealth boss where you gotta sneak around and get up to Marie and knock her down from the moss pile. Evil Marie has always been a beloved fan concept in the community, like Hypno Marie has so many cool fan designs out there and i think that could work honestly.

Callie manages to knock the mask off of Marie with a splat bomb but she's still angry. Callie grabs onto Marie and Marie calms down and cries. Agent 4 looks at the gas mask and its just filled with regular oxygen, nothing special about it. No hypnosis gas or anything. Just regular oxygen... Marie says she's sorry and explains that stuff from her past is catching up to her and making her unwell (you can guess on what I'm referring to wink wink.) She was unable to sleep for several days and was being manipulated by someone...

The thing behind Marie's manipulation appears from the ceiling and it's this giant white metallic squid that has transparent glass on some of it's body and arms, which shows this bright green goo flowing inside it. (think of Overlorder but he's a squid). I don't have a lot of information for this guy but this villain was created to cure Fuzzy Octarians, but due to unknown circumstances it went out of control and its coding was changed to "heal" people's pain by covering the planet in a modified and twisted version of Marie's low tide ink which now has evolved to be very similar to plant life. This goo/ink neutralizes certain parts of the brain, leaving the victim completely unfeeling and depressed, unable to feel anything, even physical touch or sensation. The villain manipulated Marie by going inside her head, analyzing her memories and telling her that all she has to is to get rid of "the intruders" and he will "heal her pain."

After the Marie boss fight, you have to travel up to 40 floors instead of 30 and during the downtime you get to learn about the Squid Sisters. Stuff like Callie and Marie before they blew up, who came up with their outfits, more info about their parents and managers, Marie talking about how she has trauma and nightmares from the events of Splatoon 2 and is terrified that one day Callie may leave and never come back again, Callie diving into her time in the Octo Canyon and finally clearing up what happened to her, Octavio showing remorse and sorrow for the actions he has done over the past 100 years. Basically Side Order but with the Squid Sisters, Octavio and Agent 4. I know it's a lot like Side Order but Side Order is so damn good so why not do it again but improve upon the gameplay you know?

That's all I got for this story and it's probably gonna change and be tweaked over time.

Now for the third story of Splatoon 4. I barely have anything for this but it will star the new Idol duo of the game, Off the Hook, Eight and Captain. I think it'll be like Octo Expansion in terms of gameplay and difficulty, but also expanded and longer to complete.

OKAY! NO MORE SPLATOON 4! TIME TO TALK ABOUT HYPNO CALLIE!

Hypno Callie Rewrite.

Honestly, the way I would go about rewriting Hypno Callie is very simple... Remove the Hypnoshades. That's it. She can still have them as an aesthetic part of her outfit, but i would make it so Callie is no longer hypnotized and it's WAY MORE clear to the audience that Callie is suffering from mental illness and that she left with the Octarians, not "kidnapped, overpowered and brainwashed into being a mind controlled slave." Splatoon 2 was always about the separation of the Squid Sisters and their eventual healing and reunion, it was always gonna be about that but due to time constraints probably, they rushed it and introduced bullshit shades to make it easier and simpler, they then tried to fix it later with an obscure post with a relationship chart that no one even fucking talks about, even timeline explainers fail to fucking mention it... ugh...

Making Callie an actual antagonist that has been manipulated by Octavio, whispering to her and playing into her insecurities and pain is way more compelling and makes more sense for Octavio to do as a character. Like how the fuck did he come up with the Hypnoshades and why did he only use it on Callie? He can just make hypnosis tech out of nowhere? Huh? It makes way more sense for Octavio to just manipulate her as he is a master of words and propaganda.

So what I would do is introduce a new mandatory collectable in the Splatoon 2 Hero Mode called "Callie's diary." At certain moments in the campaign Agent 4 and Marie find pages from Callie's diary as she explains her feelings and pain from being overworked and feeling some resentment as Marie has stopped calling or texting her. Marie looks so ashamed and disappointed and starts blaming herself for Callie's disappearance. Some of the diary entries include the photos found in Sunken Scrolls 21 and 22. The last diary entry found in Sector 4 is an emotional rant from Callie the day she went missing. She rants about how she can't take working anymore and how she's so lonely. Her last line is "if no one truly cares for me up here... Then... Maybe..." And there's a small tear stain at the bottom of the page.

Now for the final boss, the main plot points would occur sorta the same way, you fight Octavio and Callie, after a bit Marie comes in and shoots her in the eye, Callie calms down, blah blah blah. I actually really do like the idea of the "low tide ink" that the English translation team introduced. I think it's a neat idea that Marie has this special ink that calms someone down so I'll keep that for the rewrite.

However, during the final boss, i would make it to where Marie is really trying to reach to Callie and trying to convince her that she is loved and she matters, she tries to apologize for her actions and explains that Octavio is just manipulating her for the Octarians' goals. Callie fights back and doesn't wanna listen to her, constantly trying to shut her down. Marie even reminds Callie of their childhood and it almost gets to Callie, but she becomes more emotional and angry, she's so confused because deep down she knows Marie is right, but she's so scared to listen to her because she doesn't want to get abandoned again.

However what really gets to Callie is Marie collapsing on her knees and crying, just begging her badly to come back to her. And Marie says "I love you...." Callie is in shock and starts getting flashes of good memories with her and Marie. She holds the shades in her hands and destroys them. Callie leaps into the air and collides into Marie's arms, and they cry their eyes out and say sorry to each other.

The battle plays out the same but i would like to add another cutscene after Octavio gets his shit kicked in, Callie and Marie are on Sheldon's van and they look at the sunset together. I think that would be really sweet and connect beautifully with the credits and Fresh Start.

I took a lot of inspiration from the game Marvel's Spider-Man 2 and two boss fights in particular. The Miles vs. Peter fight, and the Spider-Man vs. Scream/MJ fight. In those boss fights, it's sort of like a therapy session for the characters in that the people under the symbiote are venting about their issues and expressing their anger they have kept hidden for so long, and the person on the other side is trying desperately to reach for them and save them from themselves. It's really powerful shit honestly and it made me feel emotional seeing Peter go "ALL I WANTED WAS TO SAVE EVERYONE! MJ! MAY! NOW THE CITY THINKS I'M THE PROBLEM! you think I'm the problem." Like i know it's kind of crazy to take inspiration from a game made for adults and take some of it into Splatoon but... I really don't give a shit. Children's media can show powerful scenes of characters struggling with their inner demons. They can do it and have proven to be successful. Children can handle it, they can.

Now... i have worked on a Splatoon 2 finale rewrite and I'm pretty much almost done with it, i need to finish the last bit of it and then go over it again so I'm fully happy with it. However i don't know how to present it as it's in the form of a script and idk how that's gonna work on tumblr, i mean i could put it on AO3 but idk if i wanna make an account just to post one thing on there and idk how many scripts get posted onto AO3 anyways...

It's like I'm a chef and I'm cooking something, but there's no waiter to deliver the food lmao.

ANYWAYS! Thank you for reading my autistic ass ramblings! I got so much free time that i just so much of it just writing down fan concepts for things on different games and stuff (I have a 42 page and counting document on a potential Sonic Frontiers 2.) Yeah... I got THAT kind of autism, not the maths and science one... Again, thank you for reading!

[blubushie]

what's something you wish more people knew about sniper's camper? (the setup or the car, iirc you mentioned they're separate?)

Yeah they're separate. That's a jack off camper so he can take the camper off and just drive the car without it.

You have to go outside to turn on your propane to use the stove or oven (or fridge, if your fridge is set up for propane cooling—most camper fridges are). You don't drive with your propane going. That shit is dangerous as hell (you risk leaking a very flammable gas).

He would have an oven in the camper. It's a small oven but it's an oven. That said temperature control is shit. The temp gauges read "hot → hotter". You need to leave a thermometer in it and then dick around with the dial so it stays at the temp you want, and it takes all fucken day to oven prep for any kind of baking. Also it's a bitch to light the pilot light for the damn thing. You need a torch to even see it.

His camper has a bathroom (and possibly a shower as well). The camper extends almost a metre off from the back of the Land Rover. That extra space is because there's a bathroom in it. That's where the bathroom is.

He drives a 1965 Land Rover Series IIA. You can tell it's not a Series II because the Series II had a branching attachment off the steering column that had the button for the horn on it. The Series IIA had the horn in the centre of the steering wheel like most cars do. Sniper's has the horn in the centre of the wheel, so it's a Series IIA.

Since Sniper's car is a Series IIA, like all Land Rovers from the 60s, it has an alternative crank-start engine (which basically means that it has an electric starter like regular cars—turn the key and car starts—while also having a manual crank starter like cars from the 1920s and earlier). These cars were built to be able to go anywhere, and recovery is hard if you're in the middle of nowhere, so if for any reason your engine wouldn't turn over (dead battery, anyone?) you could manually start it by attaching a crank to the engine through the grille and then cranking it really hard to provide enough power to the crankshaft for the engine to turn over. This is a blessing when your battery's dead cuz you left the fucken lights on.

That looks like this, btw. It's really cool and I genuinely wish more cars did this because it'd be a lifesaver in low battery situations, especially if you're somewhere where you can't recover a vehicle easily and have no one to jump it (such as while off-roading somewhere).

If you feature this in art or fic or something you gotta include the part where the crank whips back and whacks him hard on the shin though. For my sake. A little treat for Blu. Send him to the infirmary!!

(I don't know why the fuck they never made the shaft a locking ratchet like a socket wrench so it can't whip back... Would saved a lotta broken bones.)

[triflesandparsnips]

Lot of takes going around the internets about certain "deaths" in the ofmd season finale, so, uh-- guess it's time for me to try and lose some followers on tumblr dot com with

Some Thoughts on Why I Am Not Particularly Bothered or Concerned about Izzy's Apparent "Death"

Laying the groundwork first...

1. Narratively speaking, Izzy's been a dead man walking since the start of the season. Babe shot himself and got a rebirth-- but he still definitely intended to die. Every minute he was still around was borrowed time.

Did he have to die? Maybe not. I know I could've written a version of the show where he didn't. But then that would be my show-- not theirs. I can't know exactly what themes, bugbears, bête noires, catharsis, or artistic Vibes are driving that writers' room, and until the credits run on the finale of the third season, none of the rest of us can either.

2. Izzy spent the season being in a liminal state-- and there's nothing in the story saying that he can't continue doing that. Izzy spent the season having one foot in one space, one hoof in the other, and himself halfway through the door, a chimera of mirrored things right up to his "death": pirate and ship, hard and soft, old ways and new, etc etc. But "the gravy basket" is a weird little liminal space between life and death, a place that both Ed and Buttons have found (and returned from) before. We don't know where Izzy "is" right now-- he could be there.

(tbh, I wonder how much poor feeling we'd be having about all this if we'd gotten a final tag of a blue-washed Izzy staring down at a bowl of soup while helplessly saying "but this isn't gravy, what the fu--")

3. I think there is an unfortunate belief that "it's not real unless you see the body" is a universal -- or perhaps inarguable -- "fact" of storytelling. But it's not. It's just a bit of narrative shorthand that got popular, and now we're too ready to fall into the trap of believing the inverse is true too-- that if there is a body, then there must therefore have been a "real" death.

This season has spent quite a lot of narrative time and effort telling us that its story is using a different model, with different shorthands; specifically, that magic is real, that there is at least some kind of existence after death, and that the dead can be resurrected.

And that brings me to the meat of why I'm not particularly bothered or concerned about what, at this stage of the story, could still very well be just a minor setback--

4. This whole show, and particularly this season, is a fairy tale. It's a story that works with fairy tale logic and tropes, and it's in conversation with other fairy tales too, ones that the OFMD audience is likely to know well enough to spot their narrative beats in action. So "Pinocchio" gets mentioned a lot? Cool-- the audience applies what is commonly known of that story to this one ("a real boy", the mirror-opposite being a puppet with no nose, etc), and finds some Cool Shit. Then they're primed to keep looking for fairy tales, even unnamed ones, in case there's another little nugget of reward-dopamine for finding a connection.

So the fact that we saw a mermaid? Suddenly, I personally am noticing "Little Mermaid" motifs all over the place. That Ed was in a "sleep like death" -- after fucking around with a spinning wheel -- until his prince came to wake him? Well fuck, man, that's Blackbeard playing "Sleeping Beauty" for us all.

And bringing it all back to a "dead" Izzy Hands... when I add up a "dead" body surrounded by a bunch of laborers mourning the person who nominally kept their living space nice AND who was wanted dead by an authority figure for the crime of being the "better" version of what that figure wanted to be...

...well fuck, idk about the rest of you, but to me that all adds up to Izzy's story being Snow fucking White. Waiting for someone to come pull the bullet poisoned apple from his body so he can live again.

5. This is a second season. Of three. And Izzy Hands is the writer's favorite chewtoy, so there is lots of time, space, and incentive to bring him back. If there's a third season, we have a pile of ways he could be brought back over the course of hours of literal viewing time and possibly months of in-narrative time. That's ages.

And the solutions don't have to be difficult! For instance, we still have canonical hallucinations from Stede-- that's one route. Or fuck it, we could have Izzy's (very solid-looking) ghost be the embodiment of their being haunted by the Sea, that would work too.

And even barring all that-- his grave is right there with our heroes. The ship is out there hunting down his murderer. Even if you're happy he's dead... bad news, friend. He's all over the third season landscape. (uh oh, it's GNU Izzy Hands)

But those are just a few options that leave his body rotting but his character still alive. I happen to think we could all dream a little bigger, darlings. For instance:

A. You cannot tell me that these writers, on this show, with these actors, would not absolutely go all in on a zombie-esque hand thrusting out of the dirt mere hours after burial. Look me in the eyes and tell me Con O'Neill wouldn't pull off an entire digging-out scene only to end with himself panting beside the hole, looking around, hearing Ed and Stede being weird in their haunted hut, and wearily say, "Are you fucking kidding me."

B. Don't like zombies? Want to stay closer to the Snow White vibe AND introduce a love interest for him? One hyphenated word: body-snatcher. Gotta dig those bodies up fresh for the Definitely Historically Accurate anatomists of the time! But oh, says this New Guy, this corpse is-- wow, it's weird that they buried him with a rose and really amazing makeup and a truly extraordinary number of whittled whales, plus what's with that horsey leg grave marker, this guy must've been fucking fascinating, man, I wish I could've met him-- --at which point Izzy's hand shoots out and chokes the guy half to death and the lads come tumbling out of the house and ta da, mission accomplished, Izzy resurrected in 5 minutes or less with his horsey leg conveniently beside him and an entire season for himself and everyone else to Deal With It, amazing, fantastic, no notes from me.

C. Come to think of it, there is genuinely a non-zero chance that the crew just. Fucked up the burial. I mean... even though I was just arguing why we shouldn't see it as Law, we didn't actually see the body. We saw a grave. What did they bury him in? Was it a box? Was it some canvas? Did they definitely pick up the right one when it was time to bury him? Or did they maybe carefully make him an ahistorical safety coffin just in case a cat demon came to bother him and his corpse wanted to make a fuss about it, y'know, very common, could happen to anyone, and Frenchie just so happens to have Blackbeard's old collar bell right here--

6. Here's the bottom line, imo: The only thing that would keep Izzy really actually dead and completely removed from the story is a lack of narrative time and space-- and we have plenty of both. Stories are like Lego. If you've got enough time and you're willing to play with pieces from a whole lotta different sets, it's not hard to put the same elements together in different ways to get new, exciting configurations. It's why I'm actually rubbish at predicting exact details of stuff-- there are a lot of ways something could go, there are infinite doors out of problems the narrative seems to throw at us, and no two people will come up with the same thing because we're all different.

That, to me, is one of the big ways I personally enjoy and engage with stories. And it's why I genuinely can't be fussed about Izzy's death, not when we're only two-thirds through the story as a whole; observing someone setup and then try and execute a complicated narrative trick is my jam.

But my way of engaging with all this is by no means the best or only way. How we all interact with art, and what speaks to us, is extremely personal. If how this season and Izzy's death went just didn't work for you, that's okay. I'm sorry it wasn't the story you wanted it to be. That blows.

I just know I can't say yet that it didn't work for me. I won't know until I can take in the entire picture, just as I can't judge a finished Lego set by the one piece I step on midway through construction. I can see different ways Izzy's death/rebirth could absolutely work, but will the writer manage it? I dunno.

But I'm willing to wait and see if the stupid puppet can pull it off.

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Abu Dhabi 2016

-Brocedes divorce??

-Carlos is p21??

-Aww this is Button and Massa’s last race

-“Just follow his man home” Yhey just want to create the allegations at this point

-14th front row lockout, 7 1-2s for Mercedes (interestinggg, also pretty cool)

-Longest season on record?

-Oh shit Max spun

-Oh wow the commentary for turn 1 is intense

-Finallyyyy a proper leaderboard

-P19 Max 😢

-I miss Daniel having a good car

-The leaderboard is gone again

-I love that wheel to wheel action

-He’s p12 now

-Poor Kevin

-Bottas retirement too?

-I like this circuit

-Knew he’d make it to points

-It’s so weird seeing a good Mercedes pit stop strategy (like what happened to them now??)

-At least Ferrari has been consistently bad ig

-What would happen if Brocedes took themselves out here? Does Nico just win because he’s leading?

-The hell is “the lollipop man”

-Haha Max is actually such a menace to Nico

-No wonder Red Bull signed Checo, he actually defends really well

-Oh no!! Jenson!! That would be such a bad ending to a retirement 😢😢

-What’s with these last two races having drivers retire with emotional endings

-Are they not getting it back out??

-Aww his mom

-Poor Daniil

-Ohh I just realized why Max is holding Nico off

-Poor Nico really just got stuck between the fight between Red Bull and Ferrari

-Oh come on Daniel

-That was a pretty cool Nico overtake

-Max playing the team game is not what I was expecting

-The pit crew fist bumping is adorable

-The way this was supposed to be a Brocedes war but somehow Nico is more worried about Max

-The fact that he somehow went from p19 to p2 to hold Nico off and now he’s in p8 like??

-Yayy undercut

-He’s p5 now!

-“Red Bull have just outsmarted Ferrari” and not for the last time

-Okay how does anyone understand radios without subtitles

-I’m so sorry Carlos, I forgot you were in this race

-Oh wow I’m actually being impressed by Checo rn

-Good one from Daniel tho

-Max is really just Nico’s personal demon isn’t he

-“Box box box”

-“What a recovery that’s been” indeed

-Props to Mercedes pit crew

-Why is Paris Hilton hereee

-Aww that’s really sad about Jenson

-“I’ll try my best to find that (joy) somewhere else” I hope he has

-The way these people went from praising Verstappen to villainizing him needs to be studied

-“What position am I in?” Do the drivers just not know until someone tells them? Actually stupid question, them not knowing makes sense

-Aww kinda wanted Vettel to go till the end

-Does Lewis win this race and just not the championship?

Cause it’s kinda underwhelming not winning the race but winning a championship isn’t it?

-Manifesting Max podium ✨

-Just hit me that I’m watching cars race, what has my life become

-Yay Carlos is back!

-Lapping cars must be so annoying

-Oh no Carlos!! Whyyy!

-It would be a shame if he retired now

-Aah bad day to be Toro Rosso

-“Here comes the cavalry” that was cold

-I like when they call Daniel the “last of the late breakers”

-I spoke too soon, Ferrari made a comeback

-Do I unmanifest the Max podium?

-Once again wondering if Nico loses and still wins cause whaaat

-ALSO BRING IN RADIO SUBTITLES

-Sebastian podiummm???

-The way Max is somehow helping Nico rn by holding Seb back

-Sebastian Podium!!!!

-No way this becomes a Ferrari win right?

-I have no idea what’s happening with Lewis rn

-3 more lapsss

-Ooh Nico’s wifeee

-this inter-team tension is crazy

-Ohmygod I can’t believe Lewis is going to win this

-“I’m losing a world championship so I want to win this race” woah

-Aaaah no way Nico wins a championship with a p3

-Brocedes divorce.

-This is so stressfullll

-Let’s go Nico!!!!

-That was a great race!!

-Aww all the drivers waiving is really cute

-Awww his wifeee, that’s adorable

-Massa radio 😢

-Donuts!!

-NR6!!!

-Aww Sebastian hug

-Still bizarre to me that he won from p2 (I really need to learn how the point system works)

-The podium has 9 wc combined (pretty cool)

-Aaaaah Lewis and Seb just talking and him not making eye contact with Nico

-Seb just reveling in the tension

-Sebastian is so cute, bring him back

-I had way too much to say for this race

- (Had to scream into my pillow) Brocedes are so messy

- Aww he dedicated his win to his wife

- He’s cryingggg

- I wish I got to see Sebastian race in real time 😭

- They’re really asking for the drama

- “It was tough to beat you” 😭😭

- What is this tension ? I will die

- NR6!! Deserved!! 🎉🎉

[i-mean-y-not]

TOUCH

Touch A/N: This is the follow up to All This Time, it makes more sense if you read it first, but you don’t have to. If you’d like to request drabbles for this story that would be cool lol. As always, if you’d like more content feel free to send me an ask or message.

Happy Reading!

Sooo maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. And that’s saying a lot, seeing as you were in multiple clubs in high school and college, volunteered at a different animal shelter every weekend, and still managed to snag a decent shag when you were in the mood. Life had been somewhat of a shit show lately, though. Your romantic life becoming almost nonexistent. Jess was the reason you’d smiled at all anymore, and Gojo, the man you’d thought you hated up until 10 minutes ago hadn’t made anything easier.

But this? After Jess clued you in two years ago, you’d thought the supposed “attraction” Gojo felt was nonexistent. But now here you were in the front seat of Gojo’s new sleek black car, an Audi maybe? Shit, who cares? You think to yourself as you start to nervously bite your lip.

What are you thinking?

Sleeping with Gojo of all people? The Gojo that fucked literally everything that batted an eyelash at him? You’re snapped out of your thoughts by him placing a comforting hand on your thigh and caressing it with his thumb, his left hand remaining on the steering wheel.

You shiver and stare out the window, refusing to acknowledge him.

Gojo’s soft, “hey” only serving to make more nervous as you couple your lip biting with the bouncing of your leg.

“Y/N, you know we don’t have to do this. I can just take you back home. Maybe--” you clench your legs together in trepidation and shake your head before words tumble out of your mouth.

“Is that all you want, Gojo? I mean if we’re just going to do it… that’s fine. I just don’t want to get fucked over after you fuck me... ha, that was funny right?” You say, a wince immediately making its way into your face. Gojo slows to red light and proceeds to tilt your face towards him.

“What? Where’s all this coming from?” he says as he coaxes your bottom lip from your teeth. “Talk to me, please?” His gaze remains sharp on you as you clear your throat.

Just as you open your mouth the light turns green and you whisper, “Green light”.

Gojo sighs and starts to move the car and states plainly, “We’re going to my place, okay?” You start to shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. What the fuck is wrong with you? Here you were possibly about to get dug out by one of the finest men on the planet and you’re messing it up.

“We’re going to my place and I’m going to make you some tea. And we’re going to talk and if you allow it, I’m going to fuck you and it’ll be the best you’ve ever had. I’ll have you feeling it for days and if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum. Maybe I’ll cum inside you and make you keep it there until work tomorrow, hmm? So, your friend, what’s her name …Jackie? So, she’ll know. So Kento will know, so everyone in that fucking office will know that you’re mine”.

By the time Gojo is finished with his monologue, you’re a panting mess in your seat, eyes closed and hand clenching and unclenching.

“Y-Yeah we can go to your place to talk Gojo, just to talk.” You gulp and once again stare out of the window. You hear his slight chuckle as he takes a right at the next green light and the subsequent left before he pulls into his parking garage.

He parks and gets out with all the grace of a swan and opens your door to help you onto your wobbly knees. He holds your hand as you walk towards the elevator and when he presses the button for the twentieth floor. Its not until the elevator panel asks him for a code that you realize, this asshole lives in a penthouse. You mentally scoff and chuckle to yourself, modest much?

You’re snapped out of your reverie by Gojo grabbing your hand and ushering you in his lavish apartment. Okay, so your apartment was pretty-- fancy at best--but Gojo’s apartment was beautiful. With floor to ceiling windows and a grey and chrome theme, it screamed playboy.

“Would you like sugar or honey in your tea?” Gojo asks as he motions for you to sit at his kitchen table while he makes the tea. Once he’s finished, he brings both the sugar and the honey to the table for you to decide as he takes a seat himself. He reaches to pour your tea and looks at you, head titled.

“I’m just going to assume its honey,” he sighs as he pours the tea adding a squirt of honey.

When he looks at you, you turn away from him and mentally berate yourself. Then the panic ensues. But as you try to get up from the chair Gojo, gently as ever sits you back down.

“What’s wrong? C’mon look at me, Y/N?” He says in perhaps the softest voice you’ve heard.

“I just- Gojo I mean, what would you think if you were me? Do you know how many times I’ve heard people that we work with brag about your dick? I’ve heard a lot, frankly more than I’d ever want to hear about a dick I’ve never personally seen. I mean apparently it’s a beautiful dick, apparently there’s a mole on the underside of it and-” You immediately stop when you see Gojo’s face a distraught red.

Gojo honestly doesn’t know whether to laugh or pull out his “beautiful dick” and show you.

He simply observes you for a second and finally says, “I know you’re thinking I want you because I haven’t had you, but that isn’t the case. The first day I met you, the day I unceremoniously spilled coffee on you, do you know what I thought to myself?”

He waits until you nod your head before continuing, “I didn’t picture fucking you, waiting until you woke up after your third orgasm and telling you to get out. I just honestly- I wanted to take care of you. I still do. When you didn’t give me any inclination that you wanted me back I just wanted a warm body. I know when you look at me you see a guy that’s fucked half the office. I guess I was trying to distract myself from you. You have more power than you know, Y/N. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’d drop any of them for a chance with you. And I don’t mean just for tonight, I want to date you. Make love to you. Shit, do you want a kidney?”

Your face must exhibit the picture of bewilderment to Gojo because he barrels on with a bashful, “I’m kidding about the kidney, but yeah I just need you to give me a chance. I’ll prove it to you, I want into your heart not just your pants.” He finishes with a rub of his neck and a sheepish smile.

Oh wow, you shrink into your seat and verbalize your thoughts, “Gojo, why didn’t you say anything?”

He looks down at the floor and mumbles, “I just did.”

You laugh and before you say anything else, he shrugs and glances at your tea and says, “What was I supposed to say anyway? Hey, Y/N, I know you’re practically in love with Kento and although I’ve had sex virtually everyone in the office give me a chance?” He ends his tirade with a scoff and you begin to see his lip quiver.

Well damn, maybe we’re both broken you think as you stand up and make your way to Gojo just across the table. You grab his face and softly gaze at him as you chide, “So, you're telling me you could have been blowing my back out the past two years?”

You get a laugh from him then as he cups your face and kisses you. You’ve been kissed before but, oh isn’t just a kiss. He sucks your lips and caresses your tongue with his and moans slightly when you gasp into his mouth.

This, this is everything.

This kiss has you somehow grabbing onto those silky white locks and gasping out, “Take me, take me to your room please.” You moan as he snakes his hand lower and lower until it reaches the hem of your dress.

He chuckles as he toys with your basic ass panties, why didn’t I wear sexier panties? You’re in the middle of your mental sob when Gojo bites your neck, and you cling to him.

“You sure?” he rasps out. “You don’t want me to fuck you against that window? For everyone to see?” You look up at him, panting and desperate, and shake your head. He merely smirks and jests, “What about Kento, you want him to see you falling apart for me?” Your knees buckle at that statement, practically grinding your teeth in frustration.

He seems to sense this as he gets you up and says, “Forward, walk forward.” You stumble and walk on shaky legs to the first room you see which luckily turns out to be Gojo’s bedroom, with a large Alaskan King bed in the middle and mirror on the ceiling.

You don’t marvel for long however because Gojo’s on his floor, your panties in hand, and before you know what’s happening you hear a “Hold this,” as he shoves the bottom part of your dress into your fists, and he licks a long stripe up your pussy.

That has your knees buckling for the second time today as you exclaim, “S-Shit, Gojo, I- wait.”

“You even smell good.” He groans and that has you gasping and whimpering above him. The feeling of his hands opening you up should make you bashful, but you cry out when you feel two fingers slowly start a rhythm inside you.

“Sat-fuck! Gojo, can we p-lease get on the bed?” He hums and picks up his pace and you clutch his raven locks and your pussy spasms, and you let out a guttural moan and before you know it, you’ve spiraled into your first orgasm of the night. You constantly gasp and twitch and Gojo, you notice is looking at you like you hung the moon and he’s groaning too. Then you see the very visible dark spot over his slacks.

You gaze at him vision still hazy and begin to question him, but before you can Gojo stands and abruptly pulls you to his bed. Once you’re standing before his bed, he strips you bare and with the way he’s looking at you, it’s not just physical.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, and you shiver when he traces his fingers over every insecurity on your body and with a groan he starts to strip too.

But you place your hand on his once he gets to his belt buckle.

“Let me,” you say, and he nods fervently. You take your time with his pants too, giving yourself time to mentally prepare yourself for this.

When you get to his boxers, you take a deep breath and a hand reaches out to you, “Are you okay, babe? Do you need a minute?” You shake your head and rather harshly yank his boxers down and damn near moan at the sight.

His dick is beautiful. There’s a slight curve, a pinkish hue and the prettiest tip you’ve ever seen. There’s no mole, you note. That bitch Allison was lying. You must sit on his bed gawking for a bit because when he attempts to lay you down with a chuckle, you remain upright and say, “Can I touch you? Please?” Now it’s his turn to gawk.

He stutters and shakes his head, “So I can cum for the second time? I haven’t even been inside you yet, Y/N. Don’t be greedy”.

You simply nod and say gently, “Do you have a condom? Not that I don’t trust you, I just want to be saf-”

He cuts off your rambling by kissing you and laying you down on the bed and saying, “I understand. My intention never was to take you raw. I know I have to earn that.”

He tries to go back down on you, but you shake your head profusely, just wanting him inside you already,

“Please,” he says nothing as he roots around in his drawer for a condom, you know he’s found it when he rips it open, and you feel him sheath it on.

“How do you want me?” you say as you prepare to get on all fours, but a slap to your ass stops you. You gasp and squint at him before you rub your ass cheek.

He leans down to nip on your ear and says, “Wanna see your face while I split you open, yeah?” You lean up to kiss him and he stares at you for a second and says, “Are you sure?”

You mentally roll your eyes but smile nonetheless and say, “Yes, Gojo I’m very sure.” He licks at your mouth and he slides inside you on a gasp.

He clenches his eyes shut and fists the sheets by your head, “How could you do this to me?” he says on a pained whisper.

You had closed your eyes on a gasp yourself when his dick touched your g-spot upon entry. You open them now and look at Gojo, his eyes look almost teary. As you reach up to touch him, he relaxes into your touch.

You look at him and although his rhythmic thrusting is making you breathless you say, “What’s wrong?”

He merely shakes his head on a chuckle and says, “You didn’t tell me your pussy was this good.” he says almost as out of breath as you.

How the fuck am I supposed to know? You think to yourself and proclaim hoarsely, “I-I’m sorry?”

His gaze darkens and he picks up his pace, his balls slapping your ass cheeks. “Sorry? You’re sorry? The only way you’ll be sorry is if you ever give my pussy to anyone else.”

"S-shit, you’re so warm and wet. Fuck you feel like home,” He says as he somehow gets deeper almost pressing into your cervix. When you don’t answer, he grabs your throat with one hand and pinches your nipple with the other and pins you with a look that has your mouth watering.

“Did you hear me? I said you feel like home, can you take me deeper? Huh? You want me deep in you? As deep as you’ve been inside me the past two years?” You nod and gasp and a litany of whimpers and moans fall out of your mouth.

“Yes, Gojo, fuck I want it deeper,” you choke, and a stray tear falls from your eye.

He flips you over now, and as he crushes your pelvis to the mattress and drags you up by the hair.

You practically scream, “Ah! Gojo, I- I can’t, I-I’m gonna- gonna cum”.

He chuckles wrapping his arm around your midsection and his middle finger finds your clit and as you buckle in on yourself on a choked moan he says, “Fucking take it! You begged for it, take it!” You try to squirm away as he lands a few quick slaps to your clit. “You think anyone else could fuck you like this?”

You let out a cry and damn near yell, “No, fuck Gojo, you’re fucking me so good, never b-been fucked like this. N-never felt so full, sooo good,” you’re practically drooling at this point as Gojo fists your hair and finds your lips with his own.

Your pussy clenches and Gojo groans, still rubbing furiously at your clit. Your mouth opens wide, and you begin gasping for air and your hands try to find purchase on literally anything at this point. You’re flailing and shaking as your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave.

You collapse onto the mattress and Gojo follows with a long groan and after two more thrusts he cums too pulling off the condom and drenches your still quivering pussy.

You gaze at him and he says, “You okay? I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?”

You weakly nod and he goes to the en suite bathroom after throwing the used condom into the bin beside his bed. When you hear water running, you remember the mirror on the ceiling as you glance up at yourself, you gasp. Who the fuck is that? This woman looks nothing like you, hair everywhere and makeup smeared, and legs still twitching.

Gojo rushes out of the bathroom upon hearing your gasp and looks at you, looking at yourself, and smiles.

As he saunters over to the bed, warm rag in hand he says, “I meant what I said earlier, you know? This isn’t a one-time thing for me.”

As he wipes you, you nod your head and bring him in for a gentle kiss and whisper against his lips, “Me either”.

[outsidersheadcanons]

Mario Kart headcanons (modern au ig)

The Curtis Kart tournaments are legendary. They all get together once a month for a full-on competition with brackets and eliminations, but they will also just play for fun whenever they want.

Darry would be stupidly competitive, but really bad. My guy would be sweating over this children's game, but don't mention it to him. Two-Bit made fun of him once and instantly regretted it. He'd probably main King Boo because "he looks cool". From there he'd probably just try to optimize his build with rollers wheels, the biddy buggy, and paper glider. (i literally just googled peak build for king boo). He has memorized every shortcut in every map and all of the optimal routes. But even though he tries very hard, he still loses. He doesn't have a track preference, but he hates Baby Park with a passion.

Soda. Soda is THE MOST annoying person you could ever play with. He doesn't care about winning. He doesn't care about anything but making everyone else suffer. He constantly shit talks everyone, especially Darry. He doesn't really care about his character or kart, he just goes with whatever he thinks is funniest. He likes to play as any of the babies because he "is baby". He likes the prancer kart, wild wiggler, or streetle, because he finds them funny. Same thing with wheels (cushion, button, or sponge) and gliders (waddle wing or flower glider). It's just whatever Soda finds funny in the moment. He likes to pick the Baby Park track purely because everyone else hates it. (thank you to my cousins N and V for giving me inspiration, please stop picking baby park)

Pony has fun. He definitely doesn't take it as seriously as Darry, but he does try. He's a really big fan of the Zelda games, so he bases his whole build around it. Link, with the master cycle zero, ancient tires, and the paraglider. He's not a tryhard, but he wins maybe every 1 out of 5 games. He doesn't have a track preference.

Johnny is insanely good at Mario Kart. He goes completely silent while playing, with his eyes locked onto the screen. Sometimes the people who aren't playing will try to make him crack up, or stack things on top of him. He's kinda like those royal soldiers. Nothing breaks his concentration. With his build, he's similar to Pony. Johnny really likes the animal crossing games, so he goes full theme. Isabelle, with the isabelle scooter, leaf tires, and the paper glider. He'll win maybe 3 out of 5 games and is pretty much the best player.

Sometimes Soda, Pony, and Johnny make a deal to go full troll. They play as Iggy, Lemmy, and Larry respectively, with the koopa clown car, hot monster tires, and wario wing glider. Darry absolutely despises whenever they do this and refers to them as "the three fucksketeers".

Those four are the ones who mainly play, but sometimes the others join.

Two-Bit has the same strategy as Soda, meaning there is no strategy. If he's playing, Soda and Pony will rush to pick shyguy because it pisses off Two-Bit. He will then refuse to play because "shyguy is my guy. Shyguy is MY GUY." and eventually they give up and let him pick shyguy.

Cherry is actually pretty good, probably as good as Pony. She doesn't have any preferences in regard to anything, and just picks whatever she thinks is cool that day.

Dally refuses to play because "it's a game for children. Why would I play a game for children?" The one time he did play, he lost so bad that he stormed out of the house and was missing for two hours.

Steve will not play if Pony is playing. Pony will not play is Steve is playing. Their beef runs so deep that they don't need to say anything. They just hate each other that much. Because of this, Steve doesn't really play.

also im so sorry for like spam liking/reblogging ur posts

These were amazing and canon!! I love how detailed everything wasss <3 (and Steve and Pony being such haters of each other they can't play Mario Kart together??? And Dally being a sore loser??? CANON CANON CANON)

and how dare u like my posts 😡(jk jk I love to see ppl engaging with my yapping abt the outsiders ❤️❤️❤️ ty for enjoying the blog!!)

[baekhyunsbestie]

Lisa Lisa Lisa I am getting a very specific vision... And I need your opinion...

Thinking about Baekhyun and jealous sex version but this time he is the one who is jealous and amps up his possessiveness oohoo. Like reader getting shipped with another man ooommpphhh but Baekhyun is having none of it so he has to make sure that she is his and it leads to such hot times, like he is going all intense, marking her up, grabbing her tight and putting his weight on her, all the positions like phew phew phew. I mean I know Baekhyun is such a confident man but well he has his moment since he absolutely places the reader on a pedestal and knows her worth 💅🏻

Low-key also thinking of reader using the safeword in between which snaps Baekhyun out of his daze and then him comforting her and her consoling him as well sksksjsidjeushdj which turns into some sweet sweet soft lovemaking.

Possessive!Baekhyun my beloved, sexual hurt/comfort my beloved 😔🖐🏻

AAAAAAHHHHHH MAAYYAAAAA!!!!!!!!! YESSSS OMG I'VE IMAGINED JEALOUS!BAEK SOOOOO MANY TIMES 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

the only way i could see baekhyun going hard enough to bring out a safe word is if you were fully in on the game, taunting him just enough to spark that fire. and i can picture it soooooo fucking clearly with fwb!baek 😭🤚🏼

like imagine you and baekhyun are out bar-hopping with your friend group, laughing and taking shots, enjoying the night. somewhere between stops, you run into an old college friend who immediately gravitates toward you, his eyes lighting up with recognition—and interest. your whole group notices the easy chemistry sparking between you two, and as you head back to your friends, they're all nudging you, giggling, "oh, he’s totally into you! you should invite him over."

you'd throw a glance over to baekhyun, who’s supposed to be focused on pool with the guys, but you know he’s been watching you intently. his jaw’s tight, eyes dark with irritation, and you can practically see the heat radiating off him from across the room. but becus ur a little shit, u love that edge, lmfaoooo. the way baekhyun lets his restraint slip when he’s provoked, and so ofc you play along. ur friends wave the guy over, and he spends the rest of the night at your side, hands on ur shoulder, leaning close to whisper in ur ear as if you’re the only two people in the room. and every time u glance over, baekhyun’s eyes are burning holes right through u, seething quietly, his gaze practically cutting through the crowd.

by the end of the night, u exchange numbers with the guy, fully aware you’ll probably never text him. as everyone says their goodbyes and heads to their cars, baekhyun wordlessly leads u to his. the car ride is dead silent, the air thick enough to cut with a knife, and his grip on the steering wheel is tight, knuckles white under the streetlights flashing by. ur starting to wonder if you’ve pushed too far when he pulls up outside ur place, gets out, and follows u up to ur door without a single word. you turn to say goodbye, assuming he’s about to leave until he backs you against the wall, his hands on either side of you, his eyes intense and unreadable.

"so," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rumble as he slams the front door shut with enough force to make the picture frames on the wall rattle, "did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

😭😭😭😭😭 and ofc u push his buttons again, and again, and again, and again. and every time you flirt with someone else right in front of him, you can see the fire simmering in his eyes. but he keeps his cool-acts all nonchalant, lets you play your lil game, but the second ur alone, he drags you home, and it’s aaaalllllllll over. and each time after, he takes it up a notch. his grip firmer, his pace relentless, leaving u breathless and utterly fucked out. he’s marking you with every touch, every kiss, every lingering bruise. it’s as if each time, he’s daring you to test him again. because he’ll only show u exactly how much more he can make you his 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[writing-with-moss]

Kinktober 4- Handjobs

(Authors note) I’m super excited for this one bc it’s with one of my ocs! (Pls join the cam cult club. It’s fun. It’s abt a hot sexy southern werewolf who treats you right. He has a nice mom. He knows how to cook. Pls join.) ( @valscodblog + @seconds-on-the-clock + @xena-lilac-winters)

Cameron Sinclair x Reader

TW/CW- Cameron has a pretty cock 🥰, he’s so fucking loud it’s almost disgusting, handjobs, mentions of blowjobs, slight reluctance (he hasn’t had a handjob in a long time), car sex 🫡

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!

The night air was cool on your bare thighs as you hurried to the car, pulling your dress down as your husband runs after you, giggling like kids.

you loved when Cameron looked like this. A brightness in his eyes that only a child could possess, the bounce of his curls and the deep giggles that bubbled up his chest and came out from plump pink lips. Cameron was always so beautiful like this.

He hoped into the driver seat and laughed fully. “Did you see the guys face when he saw me? He was gonna shit himself!” He pushed you playfully, slamming his hands on the steering wheel.

“Well he was flirting with a married woman. I’m glad he stopped.” You point out, snuggling against his meaty bicep, it strained against his button up shirt. Delicious and well-honed.

“Yeah, so I luckily didn’t have to kill him.” He starts to car, settling back into his warm truck seat, his hips shifting a little. Even without an erection, he practically bulged out from his pants.

He starts the car, breathing through his lingering giggles. “Had a good time I hope though?”

“mmhmm..” you softly mumble, reaching your hand over his meaty thigh.

“hey-“ he laughs, pushing your hand away. “You freak!”

“you can’t blame me.” Your hand slides to his bulge, squeezing as he hitches, eyes rolling back momentarily as he chokes out a moan.

“S-Stop-“ he hisses, panting after it.

“pull over.” You whisper in his ear, leaving a faint color of lipstick on his skin. Kneading at his clothed cock as it chubbed up underneath your fingers, growing beneath your palm.

He hums, slightly whimpering in your ear as he grunts and pulls over, glancing at you with a weak smirk. “You freak-“ he’s cut off as you tighten the pressure.

“shhh…just let me take care of you.” You maneuver your body in your seat, bending over the console as you work at his zipper.

the fabric was tight, his hips slightly bucking up when you moved, fingertips dancing across his cock as you happily licked your lips. You slide his black boxers down and he squirms, the cool air of the car hitting sensitive skin.

thick girthy veins ran down his giant dick, now flushed red and weeping as he throws his head back, your small hand closed around it. Giving languid pumps and squeezes.

Loud noises left his lips as he grabbed the back of your head, fingers digging into your scalp. “Just…like that baby. That’s a good girl. Fuck-“ he jerks his hips up. “Treatin me so well-“

Your hand moves faster at his praise, his finish fast approaching. Spurts of cum covering your palm, white and thick, as he rode out his pleasure. Brown eyes so far back you could barely see it, eyelashes flutter as pornographic noises left his lips.

“There baby..” you murmur, kissing his cheekbone.

He sits up, smirking. “get in the damn backseat. It’s your turn.”

[baileys-writing-desk]

Don’t let Rulie near the Master Cycle

…or he will hit a tree.

Wild learned this the hard way.

(a gift for dalemon-99!)

Wild’s Hyrule, like many others, has a Faron Woods. And it’s the perfect place for the Champion and the traveler to take a walk together, away from the rest of the Chain.

Hyrule has taken quite a liking for mushrooms. The reddish ones are called Hylian Shrooms, Wild taught him once, and the green ones Stamina Shrooms. Each time they come across one, he kneels down to examine it, running his fingers along its smooth surface and wondering if it’s edible. It has to be, as Wild eats things like this all the time.

But the Champion seems to have another idea, as he stops at a small clearing and pulls out his Sheikah Slate.

“Do you want to see something cool?” he asks, grinning.

Hyrule’s brow furrows in confusion. What?

“Um…sure. I guess.”

Wild presses a few buttons on the slate, and soon magical blue trails of light circle nearby, not much different from the ones they see upon teleporting at a Sheikah Tower. A strange object materializes next to the two Hylians, with what looks to be two wheels and…

“What is that??” Hyrule exclaims, eyes wide.

The Champion giggles. “This is called the Master Cycle. A piece of Sheikah technology I got from beating the shit out of a monk. As you can see here-“

“Wait, hold on.” Hyrule interrupts. “ You got it from what??”

“Yeah…long story, Rulie. It’s quite amusing, remind me and I’ll tell you later.”

Knowing Wild, the traveler can’t say he’s surprised. But still. Maybe if he finds this…monk and beats him up, he can get one of these things too?

“Anyway, as you can see it has a seat, handlebars for steering, think of it as like an electric horse. It’s a new mode of transport that we call a ‘bike.’ Maybe when we’re done inspecting the shrooms here, I can demonstrate for you?”

“Yeah!!” Hyrule’s heart skips a beat, unable to contain his newfound excitement. A mode of transport? He has never seen anything like this in his life! And a thought burns into him: I wanna try!!

And oh, he wants to try so desperately. But he knows Wild wouldn’t let him.

“Ok, sounds like a plan.” The Champion smiles again before walking up to a group of Hylian Shrooms. Hyrule can barely take his eyes off the Master Cycle in all its glory. It’s as if the bike is speaking to him, asking him to come over and ride it.

Another few minutes pass as they study the clearing, with Wild taking pictures on the slate for Flora, and Hyrule has come up with a different plan. He beams from ear to ear like a young child, positioning himself in front of the Champion and close to the bike.

“Hey, see that mushroom over there?” The traveler points to the green Stamina Shroom at the base of a small tree. “Walk over and grab it, then throw it to me. I wanna try something.”

Wild briefly narrows his eyes. “…Why?”

“Just trust me on this. I’m gonna try to catch it in my mouth.”

“Rulie…” Wild sighs, but pauses when Hyrule widens his eyes like a begging puppy. “Hmph. Fine.”

The Champion turns around to fetch the mushroom. Ok, he’s distracted. Go!

Hyrule locks eyes on the bike and darts over to it, quickly hoisting himself up with legs straddled like he saw Wild do earlier. Shit. How do you start this thing??

“Hey! Rulie, no!”

Wait, yes! The right side! He slams his foot on the small piece of metal underneath it and suddenly the bike is speeding forward. “WOOOO!!” he shouts, fluffy hair whipping in the breeze as the loud whirring noise of the bike overrides whatever the Champion is yelling. Laughing out loud, Hyrule rides in a straight line through the woods, making sure to follow the path. This is AMAZING!!

His grip on the handlebars remains strong. All he needs to do is just keep the bike upright. Easy!

“HAHA! YOU CAN’T CATCH ME, WILD!!” he shrieks. “TRY TO STOP ME!”

He’ll ride all the way out of these woods, maybe through the field and back toward camp. He has the power now, he’s carefree!

…Until a large tree looms in front of him, blocking the path.

Shit!! He doesn’t know how to turn! Oh no. Oh, fuck me.

Hyrule barely has time to think as the tree draws closer; at his current trajectory he will slam right into it. I can stop, right? Just-

Wait.

He also doesn’t know how to stop.

FUCK!!

In a frenzy he jerks the handlebars to the right, hoping the bike will follow. He hasn’t thought this through, but he doesn’t have the time to with the bike still speeding faster than a dragon. Just narrowly missing the tree, he manages to turn the bike…

…smack into another tree.

Hyrule yelps as the bike crashes, and next thing he knows it is…gone?? Shit!! Now without anything to sit on, he is flung forward, crying out in pain as he hits the tree before being tossed to the ground.

He can hear Wild’s shouting coming closer as he lies there, dazed, arm throbbing from taking the brunt of the blow. Somehow he had managed to shield his face, but Hylia, that aches too. Everything hurts.

Okay, that was a BAD idea.

“HYRULE!!”

He turns his head to see the shocked Champion running to his side. “Hyrule! Are you okay?? My god!”

Bad, bad idea.

“Mhm…” he groans, rubbing his forehead. “Where’d it go…?”

“What- oh, it disintegrates whenever you crash. Learned that the hard way once too.”

“So I…broke it?” Oh no. His eyes widen as he glances up at Wild, now standing over him. “I’m so sorry-“

“No, you didn’t break it. That’s what it was made to do,” the Champion explains. “But I digress. Why in Hylia’s name did you want to ride it with no supervision!?”

Hyrule sighs. “I…I thought it would be fun.” With a grunt he pushes himself up to sitting, despite the pain in his arm. “And- it was.”

He smiles weakly at Wild, who still looks less than pleased.

“Oh, Rulie…what am I gonna do with you?” He slowly shakes his head in disbelief. “Here, can you heal yourself? Or I think I have a fairy.”

“It’s okay…I can do it.” If Wild uses his fairy on something as stupid as this…no. He won’t let that happen.

“Well, well.” Wild smirks as the traveler begins to prepare his healing magic. “I can’t wait to see the old man’s reaction when we get back!”

Hyrule gasps. “No, please- don’t tell Time! He would kill me if he finds out-“

“I mean, you’ll still be a bit drained…he might ask why. And so I can deliver.” Wild’s voice is taunting, as the Champion keeps his cheeky smile. The horrified look on Hyrule’s face must be amusing.

“Please…I can’t stand a lecture from the old man,” the traveler whines. “I’ll speak for myself…”

Just like he did before when getting Wild to agree to his little trick, he gazes up at the Champion with his puppy-dog eyes.

“Okay…fine.” Wild luckily gives in. “This can stay between you and me. But you have to promise to never pull a stunt like this again.”

Hyrule huffs. Aw, man. He loves messing around with Wild…but he would rather escape the wrath of the entire Chain and their lecturing. Especially Time.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Good.” Wild gestures to Hyrule’s injured body. “Now heal yourself up, Rulie.”

With a sigh, the traveler closes his eyes as he feels the familiar warm glow of his magic, slowly placing his hands on each of his wounds to close them. Soon the pain fades away and strength returns to his body.

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

So, there's many of you now. I know we're in the How Sweet It Is Not To Know Follower Counts website and I do cherish that, but still, more people than ever in my life clicked a button that in some capacity says "I care what this dork has to tell me" and I want to acknowledge and celebrate that - especially now that this growth seems to have settled into its rhythm.

Spot when @identifying-cars-in-posts reblogged my pinned, lol.

So, for my 100th post, I felt like celebrating our love for reaching round numbers. And little in the automotive world represents it more iconically than what reigned supreme above all cars in the 1980s.

Porsche started out as an engineering firm, whose most notable contract was what would become known as the Volkswagen Beetle (and boy what a story that is). The first car of its own was the 356 seen below - a sporty body laid over Beetle underpinnings and thus still mostly made by Volkswagen. But by God, they were going to run with that recipe and perfect it 'til the sun burst.

Meanwhile, in England, a chap called Colin Chapman decides the next of his company's track cars will actually be drivable on the street, to need no trailer to go race. Thus the Lotus Seven is born and sold in kit, which avoids high taxes on the exporting of cars to the US (but those taxes would have remained had they been sold with assembly manuals… so they were sold with disassembly manuals for you to read backwards. No, seriously.).

The Porsche 356 kept getting less and less Volkswagen and more and more Porsche until in 1964, the year of the Beatles, the year of the Stones, the stone-age Beetle was left behind for good with the Porsche 911 (seen below), a blank-canvas take on the same recipe of an air-cooled rear boxer engine powering the rear wheels of a squished-Beetle-shaped sportscar. 'Twas good.

In 1973, Lotus was doing pretty well for itself. The Seven's whole 2500 sales had carried it through producing a number of other models, and a few were even in production concurrently - a lineup! Exciting stuff! Well, that and an F1 team so successful its Wikipedia page features the section "Domination in the 60s and '70s". The exciting opportunity to move upmarket, with bigger models with AC and automatics and all that bougie shit, pushed them to move away from the image of scruffy old kit car makers, ceding the Seven's production to the last two dealers that sold it, main one being Caterham Cars.

The 911 headed into the 80s old enough to drive, and Porsche's plans considered it at the end of the line, with staff already mourning it. But then the yankee at his third week as CEO saw those plans (which to Germans are basically scripture), said "to hell with that" and extended that line off the chart. Literally. He went to the lead engineer's office and physically took a marker at a development chart. They all secretly liked that.

Still, it was clear the game was changing - intercoolers, all wheel drive, active suspension... how hard could the 911 layout go if it didn't stick to its simple air-cooled roots? Well, Porsche resolved to find out by filling it with the cusp of automotive advancements and then some. And I do mean filling - a chassis that didn't even need space for a radiator was suddenly tasked with storing it, two turbos, two intercoolers, and a good half dozen oil pumps.

Yeah good luck with that, buddy. Oh, and materials? The body was kevlar, the frame was aluminium, the floor was Nomex (ever even heard of Nomex???), the wheels were magnesium and the spokes were hollow!!!! You could blow into the spokes!!! And don't get me started on the technology! Variable height, an all-wheel-drive system that distributed torque at will, electronics galore... As you may be able to guess, development was… complex.

At one point a test driver was doing 180km/h (112mph) to go get the car un-on-fire-d, and that's just one of the plenty horror stories. Hell, work started in 1983 to create a car for Group B and took so long that when said rally series died in 1986, production was just starting. Not that development would stop at the start of production, either - the first cars just got updated when the owners took them in for their service. (Can't blame them, I fix wording in weeks-old posts...) But however long it took, the resulting Porsche 959 answered the originating question "How hard can this chassis go?" with a resounding "Hard and then some".

It was comfortable and refined enough to be driven every day, but so capable it extended the limits of the concept of production car. Put it this way: it reached car people's favorite round number, 100km/h (to yankee doodles, 60mph) in 3.6 seconds. The second fastest production car did so in 4.6. That's one second of margin in a race that ends in five. Oh, and if you want to put it another way: the 959 was the first production car to ever surpass 300km/h, let alone come 1 shy of the mythical 200mph (322km/h).

Meanwhile, the handful of chaps at Caterham was still producing the Caterham Seven. It's the Lotus Seven (specifically the third revision, from 1968), but I guess in '83 the engine changed. We were saying?

They couldn't sell the 959 stateside for lack of crash test data, and America's ban on importing foreign cars under 25 years of age had no exception. That is, until Bill Gates wanted a 959 so bad he spent 13 years getting an exception passed. That's how hot this car is.

And yet, this record-breaking, boundary-pushing, master-of-all-trades hypercar sits atop the 80s automotive landscape engulfed in shadow. But how? Why? Because it failed to contend with the greatest automotive headache: humans. It was planted, practical, reliable, predictable - docile, domesticated, amicable. Perfect. But these are not meant to be cars, they're meant to be posters. And you don't get posters of what is perfect, but of what excites you. And what excites us is the visceral, the raw, the uncompromising - the wild, the feral, the dangerous. And, of course, reaching round numbers. What excites us is a lot more like the first production car to break 200mph, the Ferrari F40.

Remember how the 959 was being developed for Group B racing and then the series died? Well, Ferrari got screwed over too, with the 288 GTO Evoluzione they were developing (seen here to the right of the base 288 GTO) suddenly having no reason to be.

The lead engineer then asked Enzo Ferrari to let him turn that weekend project (literally, they couldn't spend work week time on it) into a road car to celebrate their 40 years. Enzo, nearing the end of his days, thought "Ah, what the hell, let's leave with a bang", so they set off to build what would become the anti-959. Not anti as in response, but as in antithesis. Where the 959 was an attempt to modernize the noisy, unrefined, old-school 911 -to make a supercar "tested for everyday usability to the most strenuous standards", by Porsche's words- the F40 was a reaction to, per Ferrari's words, "customers saying Ferraris were becoming too plush and comfortable": "nothing but sheer performance. Not a laboratory for the future, as the 959 is. Not Star Wars."

To exemplify: left is the 959 - note the leather and electric seats, right is the F40, note the string you open the door with.

The F40 was noisy, crashy, torrid, and the turbo lag painstakingly smoothed out in the 959 here kicked you in the back like a locked door. It would rip your head off the moment it sensed you didn't know what you were doing. But it was more exciting - to look at, to hear, to drive. And that's what won people over - including the buyers, which were near four times as many as Porsche's despite the price tag being double.

Had the 959 lost then? Well, not quite. Enter the 959 S. Doing away with much of the 959's luxuries, like adjustable suspension, electric windows, AC, central locking, and even backsea- wait, the 959 had BACKSEATS???? Holy FUCK why does no one talk about that??? Take the family on a trip to 300kphville! I was saying. They schlapped some bigger turbos on too and power went from 444hp right past the F40's 470hp to a healthy 508, that propelled it over what any roadgoing F40 ever managed at 211mph, or 339km/h. Presumably for bragging rights.

And I want to stress, these were titans clashing here. This was leagues beyond what other production cars could even comprehend. Again, the 959 hit 100km/h in 3.6 seconds. The F40 held a record by taking less than 16 seconds to go from 0 to 160km/h(100mph) and back to 0. This was witnessing superhumans fighting through the clouds.

And then in 1992, the two chaps that 'developed' Caterhams (i.e. banged new ones together in the shed) told the chap they worked for "Hey, let's make one that's really barebones and fast", rang up their ol' mate (and ex-F1 racer) Jonathan Palmer to ask to lend a hand, and bought some of the 250hp engine that powered the Vauxhall (British for Opel) Cavalier GSi in the British Touring Car Championship.

Thus, the Caterham Seven Jonathan Palmer Evolution - a raw, uncomfortable, uncompromising beast that went fast as all fuck. Now, if you don't know Sevens you may think "Ah, so just like the F40, what with its handcrank windows and the string to open the doorlatch and all". And to illustrate how far off that is: in the Seven the windows were sown on and you latched the door yourself with a press button.

And that's the standard version which had windows and doors. The JPE didn't.

The JPE had a carbon tub you were meant to call a seat, the controls, a rev counter and a tach that didn't even bother reading until 30mph, and fuck you. And this one is not even as barebones as the JPE got: this one is painted.

So while the F40 went from 1,250kg (2760lb) to 1370kg (3020lb) when adjusted to comply with US regulations and the 959 went from 1450kg (3200lb) to the lightweight S version's 1350kg (2975lb), the Seven JPE weighed 1170. As in 1170lb. 530kg. Read that again if you need to, but it had about half the power of those two and considerably less than half the car to move. And so, in January 1993, this thing -this '50s coffin with a Vauxhall engine banged together by one guy in a shed- took the Guinness World Record for fastest car to 100km/h with a time of 3.46 seconds - and the 0-160km/h-0 record with 13.1 seconds. Close your eyes and picture that.

Yet the Seven JPE is hardly known to anyone but the most hardcore of enthusiasts, and owned by barely four dozens of 'em. So did it, perhaps, ultimately lose? Not at all. In fact, none of these cars did.

Every 959 cost Porsche twice what they sold it for, but the project proved the 911's layout could stand the test of time, and its development gave Porsche technologies it gradually infused into the 911 keeping it relevant, competitive, and most importantly alive to this day.

And I think we can safely say that when Enzo Ferrari died in 1988, a year after the F40's launch, his wish to leave with a bang was perfectly fulfilled - so much so that the F40 is commonly regarded as the peak of his legacy.

And the JPE was simply the greatest Seven ever - the most raw, thrilling, pure automotive experience the streets had ever witnessed. If driving a fast car was like biking down a hill, the Seven JPE was skydiving. Hell, it was the cover car of éX-Driver, an anime about a team using old-school sportscars to rescue haywire autonomous vehicles!

Not that culturally relevant but MAN was it cool as a kid. I need to hang those damn posters one of these days. I was saying.

These are three success stories in three radically different ways. Because, as much as I've made this post all about the numbers, sometimes it's not about that. Sometimes it's about making a show, leaving a mark, being spectacular. Sometimes it's about pushing yourself to achievements you can take pride and inspiration from. Sometimes it's simply about having fun seeing just how far you can really go. Sometimes it's about deciding what you want to be and make a new favorite version of yourself, that is the best it can be at what you care the most about. And for some that may result in less popularity or success or impact or legacy than others, but those are just some of the things you can work towards. It can be okay to just work towards having a blast. Hell, those madmen at Caterham used to stay after work to build themselves track cars, race them the next day and put ‘em back in the workshop after racing them, and the company survived to this day. Because, yes, they're still around - and their new lineup topper gets to 100 in 2.8. Windshield still optional. Well, at least there's headrests now. And a wider version, for the concrete possibility that you physically don't fit.

Never change, Caterham, because you certainly never have.

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

[wizisbored]

so this whumptober snippet was going to have a slightly more conclusive ending and actually get edited but circumstances arose so im just throwing out what ive got. enjoy this first-draft chunk of the running iron 👍

(for the benifit of those who may find this through tags without knowing the au - its a beetlejuice western au but beetlejuice and lydia are centaurs. and to clarify another detail, female centaurs are flat-chested and the mentioned corsets are purely for back support.)

///

Lydia’s been quiet for a while. It’s not that that’s unusual - there’s a good lot more railroad than topics for conversation - but each time Beetlejuice glances across at her she’s folded more and more forward over her collar. Her arms are folded like usual, or at least he thought they were at first. When he realizes she’s got her hands shoved in her armpits is when he decides to comment.

“How’s it going on your side of the tracks?” he asks.

She answers him through gritted teeth. “I can feel my skin burning.”

“Oh. Shit. Can I see?”

She pulls one hand from under her arm and moves a little closer to the tracks, the second motion copied by Beetlejuice. It looks like the black hair on the back of her hand has offered a little protection, but the rest of the skin below her shirt cuff is an angry red. Sure, he’s noticed tan lines appearing around both of their wrists and necks, but this is something far worse. And looking at her again, he can see some red in her cheeks and her nose - her hat has given her a little more protection there, but it’s obvious she’s still burned.

“Fucking hell, kid. Get some water on your arm wraps and use those.”

She shakes her head, hiding her hand under her armpit again. “I’m not pouring out my drinking water.”

“Fair enough. You can still cover your hands, though.”

She fumbles for her sleeve buttons, wincing as she unfastens them with her scorched fingers. She pulls off her neat arm wraps and haphazardly winds them around her hands, shoving them back under her arms.

“We’re not that far off, are we?” she asks.

“No. We’ll get you cooled off real soon, kid.”

She nods, grabbing her waterskin and taking a swig. For a while the silence returns, save for their own feet and the noise of the wheels and the jingling of whippletrees and chains behind them. The sun beats down like always. The dust Beetlejuice kicks up sticks in the sweat on his legs.

“I dunno if my water’s gonna last,” Lydia comments eventually.

“Well you’re not getting mine,” Beetlejuice replies without thinking, but then he looks over at her. The parts of her face that aren’t red are almost white, and her eyes are dull.

“Kid? You doing alright?”

“Just tired. But real tired, more than normal. Dead Tired.”

“But you can make it back, right?”

“I- yeah. Yeah, I think I can make it back.” She shuts her eyes, pressing her hand to her forehead.

“Headache?”

“Mm. Let’s just get back before I throw up.”

“That bad?”

“It’s going that way.”

They plod on. The wheels trundle along the tracks and the chains jingle. The sun beats down. The load on Beetlejuice’s shoulders feels heavier as they close in on the worksite. Steadily heavier, until the hoofbeats across the tracks falter and the traces jerk against his collar.

“Whoa, hey, kid.” He looks across at Lydia, seeing her doing an awkward little limp, obviously hurting but not wanting the car to come to a stop. “You got something in your hoof?”

“Leg’s cramped up, just gimme a moment-”

She stumbles, the chain traces jerking against her as she takes up the slacks and drops it again. She puts her head in her hands again, panting.

“Lyds?”

“Feeling- Feeling kinda dizzy, kinda light-” She clamps one arm to her stomach, grimacing.

“Alright, fuck getting back. You gonna be able to stop the cart?”

“I- I don’t know, I…”

“Kinda a rhetorical question, kid. You aren’t gonna haul it to the end.”

She nods, her face twisted.

“Alright, let’s go. Slow it down.”

Her limping slows, and also gets a lot less steady. Fuck it, no time to do this properly.

“From three, yeah?”

She nods again.

“Three. Two. One-”

He stops, bracing himself against the weight of the cart on the back of his collar and his breeching, keeping his eyes on the filly across the tracks. She tries to brace, he can tell, but the cart jolts her forward and she doesn’t resist. Her hind legs immediately buckle against the breeching, and she doesn’t even manage to sit down into it. She goes all the way down, only held up slightly by the collar still linked to the cart shaft.

“Shit, Lyds, you still with me?!”

She only responds in a whimper, but at least she’s responding. Beetlejuice leans back harder against the cart, making sure it’s definitely stopped - last thing the kid needs is being dragged along with it. She’s gasping for breath, head in her hands, laying half on the tracks with her lower shoulders being lifted a little off the ground by her collar.

“Alright. Fuck. You think you can-”

She cuts him off by vomiting on the rails. He swears yet again, looking to the worksite. They’re not far away, someone might have already seen them, but it’s too far to just yell. He breathes in deep, filling both sets of lungs, and bellows out a call for help. The men won’t understand it, but they’ll definitely hear. Hopefully that will be enough for someone to come investigate.

“Lyds, you gotta get your corset off.”

She groans, weakly pawing at her chest. “I- I can’t-”

“You gotta, or this ain’t getting any better.”

She manages to get a hold on a buckle, but her hands are shaking as she does. Beetlejuice looks back towards the worksite. He can see someone mounting a horse. Hopefully that’s a good sign.

“Alright, Lyds, next buckle. Come on.”

He almost thinks she’s going to throw up again as she hauls the corset off, but she manages it. Underneath, her gray shirt is a shade darker than usual, soaked through with sweat. She heaves a deep breath into all four lungs, coughs, and spits out a last dreg of vomit. Charming.

“You got any water left?” Beetlejuice asks.

“No,” Lydia rasps.

“...Alright, just this once, since you’re dying.” He pulls the strap of his own waterskin off his shoulder and tosses it across. “Not a lot in there, make the most of it.”

Lydia fumbles to open it, immediately gulping the water down.

A shout makes Beetlejuice look up from the downed foal. Two men on horseback are nearing at a lope, one of them yelling for attention.

“It’s the heat,” Beetlejuice yells back. “Kid’s burning to death out here!”

Lydia whimpers beside him. The two horses stumble to a stop beside them, one of the men immediately dropping to the ground to examine Lydia.

“Can you hear me, girl?”

“Yeah. Do- do you have water?”

She’s handed a fresh waterskin and again shows no restraint, though she flinches slightly when the man presses a hand to her forehead.

“It’s the heat,” he reports as he wipes his hand on his shirt, like this is new information. Beetlejuice rolls his eyes, but of course nobody’s looking at him. “We gotta get her back now, you know they’re gonna blame us if heatstroke takes her out. Think we could hold her up from the horses?”

“We can try,” the second man - one with a notable mustache - says. As his companion sets to unhitching Lydia from the cart, he dismounts too and uses his own waterskin to douse her already sodden coat. She jumps initially, but doesn’t protest the sudden shower.

“Alright,” the other, stache-less guy, says. “You mount up, I’ll try to get her up to you.”

He crouches down, hauling one of Lydia’s arms over his shoulders. She tries to push her upper half off the ground as he hauls her up, but it’s clearly a struggle.

“Come on, kid, let’s get you back on your feet.”

Soon enough, they’re both struggling - Lydia struggling to stay upright and the man struggling to hold her weight. But he quickly hands her over to the mounted man, and then she’s his problem. He clings to her for a moment, knuckles white on her sweat-soaked shirt and horse shifting nervously under him until Stacheless gets back on his horse and they’re able to take her weight between them.

“Alright, pull yourself together, girl,” Mustache says as Lydia hangs her head, breath coming in quick, shallow pants. “You gotta get back to the station.”

“Get moving on three, yeah?”

“What about the other one?

“He’ll be fine on his own for five minutes, now come on- One, two, three.”

They lurch forward, the two riders being jerked in their saddles by the weight of the filly on them. For a moment they struggle along, Lydia managing to take a few steps before she retches so violently that it spooks one of the horses. The animal pulls away, Stacheless struggling to keep her grip on Lydia while reining it in, and she takes the opportunity to tug her arms free of the men and less-than-gracefully sit down.

“Come on, girl,” Mustache says. “You wanna fry out here?”

Lydia doesn’t reply, too busy panting. She’s bent over, gripping her knees tight. The man leans off his horse, grabbing her by the shoulder of her shirt and tugging ineffectively. The kid’s sick and stubborn, and she’s got a great deal of weight on him. He’s not getting her anywhere she doesn’t want to be.

“I can’t,” she groans. “I’ll throw up.”

“You gotta. Or the sun’ll kill ya.”

Stacheless, meanwhile, is attempting to coax his horse back to Lydia’s side. The horse, however, seems utterly affronted by the idea that it might be retched at again, and is keeping its distance. Grunting in frustration, its rider looks around for a new solution.

“You,” he says, locking onto Beetlejuice. “You’re dragging her.”

“I am?”

“You are.” He turns to Mustache. “Leave her shirt alone and get over here. We’ll link their whippletrees together, and then I’ll hold her under the arms to keep her head off the ground.”

Beetlejuice raises an eyebrow. “But the rest of her’s just getting raked over the ground, yeah?”

“Fucking Hell- you’d rather leave her to cook out here?”

“...No.”

“Alright, so let’s get going!”

The two men quickly get him unhitched, and then the three of them cross the tracks to Lydia. The foal looks up at him with wide eyes, clearly not overjoyed about the plan, but what the fuck else are they gonna do? Beetlejuice watches over his shoulder as the men hitch them together, Stache hooking his arms under Lydia’s arms to lift her upper torso. It twists her awkwardly, her barrel still on its side on the ground. The foal looks up at the man with wide eyes, obviously not too confident in this plan.

“Hang in there, kid,” Beetlejuice calls back to her. “You can handle this, you’re tough.”

She lets out a weak whimpery groan. And with that, Beetlejuice turns and starts pulling.

Dragging one filly is a lighter load than his share of the car’s weight, but it’s still a struggle to get Lydia back to the worksite. The sun beats down on all of them, Lydia whimpering quietly as she’s dragged backwards across the ground. Beetlejuice’s head is starting to hurt. He’s really wishing he still had his waterskin - why’d he have to go and have stupid feelings of sympathy towards a sick child? But he keeps plowing on, because what the fuck else is he gonna do?

He reaches the site just outside town with his head pounding, mouth dry, ready to collapse. Lydia is crying behind him, from the heat or the dragging he can’t tell. But one second it’s just them, trudging through the desert, and then suddenly there’s a flurry of activity and noise. Men surround them, talking, yelling, and then someone grabs Beetlejuice by the collar and drags him - and by extension, Lydia - over to the side of the nearest building, where the wall casts some shade. It’s not that much cooler. They’re messing with the chains between the two centaurs, unhitching them from each other. That’s a relief, at least. No more hauling.

“Get her stripped and douse her,” someone calls as Beelejuice lowers himself to the ground.

“But-”

“Oh pull yourself together, it’s a fucking horse! She’s not got anything you haven’t already seen!”Beetlejuice hears Lydia’s harness being unbuckled behind him. He turns, just in time to see a bucket being set down by her head, which prompts her to haul herself up just enough to start gulping down water. “The other one, too,” someone says, and then there’s hands on his corset buckles. They haul it off and then start on his shirt, and despite the heat he really wants to make a joke about all this ‘frantically stripping him off’ business. But again, Lydia just has to be a child sharing in the predicament. Spoilsport.

[hyroglifiact]

Dreamcast HKT-7430

This is kinda cool like it dose its job but its way too light and has awful dead zones

Look at all these wires and shit that link up to all the buttons and DEFINITELY DONT BREAK EASLY (I couldn't get to the analog paddles 3:)

The resistance mechanism is rad tho. It uses rope tension to create resistance the more you turn the wheel. Ive never taken apart something like this before so its really cool to me

Fixing the weight problem with a bunch of coins. why buy weights when your money is literally small weights