#but how am i gonna get mechanics across if not like this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jellyfishbug · 7 months ago

Text

POP THE HOOD F'ME

pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI. word count [5.2k]

content; mechanic!chris, flirty!chris, smoking (they share a cig), sex with a stranger ig? semi public, car head (m recieving), face fucking, big dick chris, reader has an eyebrow piercing, use of pet names, dirty talk, swearing

Maybe it was just dumb luck.

My dad has been promising me that his old ford pickup was gonna be mine when I got my license since I was ten. However, not long after my sixteenth birthday, he randomly decided that his promise had conditions.

I had to fix it myself.

I had been putting off working on it for years. I just didn't have the time, and it needed a lot of work. The list of things to be fixed was long, and I knew if I started then, I wouldn't have finished.

Finally, the time presented itself for me to start. I finally had a summer that wasn't so busy, so I decided in May of this year I was finally going to do it.

I was finally going to get my own truck.

So I did; I worked on it for two long months. Two long months spent in the garage on my back under the heavy pickup with my hands covered in soot and oil whilst sweat dripped down my face. Two long months spent fixing the paint job and fiddling around under the hood, my hair tied back to keep it off my neck while the sun beamed through the opened garage door.

I finally felt confident enough to take it out for a test drive today. It was starting fine in the garage, and I'd driven it around the block a number of times without fail.

I excitedly hopped in the driver's seat and shut the heavy door, jamming my keys into the ignition and grinning at the sound of the roar when the engine started. I made it pretty much across town without a single problem, and I thought I was in the clear.

So, maybe it was just dumb luck when not even an hour later, here I am, standing on the side of the road next to said pickup with the hood popped and smoke coming out of the cabin.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was dumb luck when I realized I was only three blocks away from an auto shop, and a guy pulled over to help drag my car there.

It felt like forever when we finally reached the parking lot. The red and white sign that hung over the opened garage doors read 'sturniolo's auto-repair".

For the most part, the slots were empty, except for a 58' baby blue Impala that was suspended off the ground, and a brand new silver Subaru outback that sat right next to it.

As we finally pushed it into the open slot on the far end of the garage, I let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat off my forehead with one hand and letting them both rest at my sides.

I thanked the stranger for his assistance and he wished me luck, mumbling about how much a repair on a truck like this was going to cost before wandering off. I scowled at him as soon as he turned away from me.

Walking away from the smokey and damaged shell of a car, I pushed open the clear glass door into the entry-way of the shop, and the sound of the ringing bells that were carefully tied at the top of the door filled my ears.

Near the desk stood two boys, both were brunettes that roughly stood at the same height. The first was wearing a red toyota nascar cap backwards over his brown hair, as well as a black tank top and a navy blue mechanic's suit that hugged his frame. The name patch on the chest of it read "Matt". He was speaking to another customer, flailing the rag around as he emphasized his points with his hands.

The other was standing behind the counter, a gray bandana tied around his head. He wore a navy blue button up that he left completely open with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, making the white tank top he wore under it visible.

The name patch on his chest read "Chris", and a white rag was thrown over his shoulder. A plethora of keys were hooked to a red carabiner that hung around the belt loop of his jeans. The desk hid his lower half below his waistline, and as I stepped closer, I saw a toothpick in between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he jotted down words on a yellow notepad with a pencil.

I slowly walked up to the desk, my arms at my sides. He didn't raise his head to look at me, he just continued writing, so I cleared my throat.

His head shot up, and his expression fell into embarrassment.

"Fuck- sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How long ‘v you been standing there?"

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Not long, I just walked in."

A smile painted itself onto his face as he set the pencil down and put his hands in his pockets just far enough that his thumbs still stuck out. "What can i do for ya?" He asked kindly, the toothpick in his mouth moving as he spoke.

"My truck broke down three blocks ago and wouldn't start. I tried looking under the hood to see the problem, but it was smoking, so I pushed it here." I explained, my hands finding each other and clasping together at my front.

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "Jesus, you wheeled it all the way here?" He asked, laughing breathily when I nodded my head in response. "Atta girl. What kind of truck is it?"

"A ford pickup," I responded all too quickly, my voice strained as I tried to ignore how my heart swelled in my chest from the impressed look on his face. He nodded as he opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a ballpoint pen, picking up the notepad once again to start writing. "What year and license plate?"

"85', boston plate, the number is 289 BTO. " I watched as he wrote mindlessly, the handwriting barely coherent.

"'M kay, I'll take a look at it for you." he said, setting the notepad and pen back down on the counter. He opened his palm, gesturing for my keys, and I dropped them into his grasp. He hooked the ring that held them together around his index finger.

"Wait here, should only be a couple minutes."

I nodded as he circled around to the end of the desk, walking past me and pushing open the door to the garage.

His absence gave me a chance to examine the decor of the office space. Family and baby portraits crowded on top of the counter below the window behind the desk. A mickey mouse clock sat above the side door, and a large OPEN sign hung in the window.

The wall was crowded with plates and signs. One that caught my eye was an eagle with its claws digging into a hanging mirror, the name HARLEY DAVIDSON displayed in bright orange letters above the eagle's head. Next to the register was a small bell with a sign that said "ring for service" and the words 'don't actually' were scribbled in sharpie above.

Just when I was getting lost in thought, I heard the door bells jingle a second time, and Chris walked back in. The rag was now hanging loosely in his palm as he approached the counter. He stood right next to me, reaching over for the notepad and throwing the rag back over his now bare shoulder, which is when I realized he had discarded his button up. My eyes dart down to see the keys to my truck now hanging on a different belt loop on his jeans.

"From what I can see," he starts, popping the cap of the pen off and leaving it in between his teeth as he spoke. "It looks like a coolant leak. The combination from the antifreeze leaking and the heat of the engine is enough to make it smoke, but it's not enough to cause the engine freeze up." he explains, his eyes meeting mine every couple of words to make sure i understand. "So, it could also be a fuel pump problem combined with the leak."

I nodded, chewing my lip nervously as he went on to explain the time the repair would take as well as the cost. When the words, "not finished until at least tomorrow" left his lips, I huffed in defeat, and tried to make my disappointment less evident as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"How long have you had it?" He asked, now leaning against the counter next to us with one elbow, crossing one foot over the other.

"I've only started to work on it this summer, but it's been my dads since before i was born."

He nodded. "It's a pretty ride," he confessed. "I honestly expected it to look worse when you said 85', but the conditions not bad. You been workin' on it a lot?"

"As much as I can." I shrugged.

He complimented the paint job, to which i confessed i'd done it, and he gushed. "Christ, you should work here. Matt can't paint to save his life. You could probably get him out of a job,"

Matt sent a glare his way. "Shut up, kid. Dad would fire you over me any day, especially if you keep sleeping in."

Chris laughed, a genuine sound that made Matt's glare turn into a small smile before he went back to rifling through the file cabinet.

He turned back to me, pausing to look back over the notes he'd written down. "If i had to guess, I'd say we can probably have it to you by tomorrow evening." he said, looking away from the paper and averting his gaze to instead look me right in the eye. "That work for you?"

I nodded slowly. Suddenly, the issue of a ride home became extremely apparent, and an anxious feeling started to blossom in my chest.

"Good. Just one more thing. . ." he pauses to take the pen cap out of his mouth and place it back on the pen, tapping it against the curve of his hand and grinning wildly at me.

"i'm gonna need your number to let you know when its finished."

He's just asking because he's supposed to; because he literally has to in order for me to get my car back. But regardless, i felt heat rise to my cheeks as i started shifting uncomfortably in place.

"Right," I said, moving to reach for the pen. He points to a blank part of the notepad, tapping lightly to tell me where to write it.

Quickly and shakily, i write out the numbers with dashes. I hand it back to him, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He rips the sheet off the notepad in one swift motion and folds it in half, placing it in his back pocket.

He glances towards the clock. Its nearing seven. He turns back to me, "d'you have a ride home?"

My eyes went wide. I'm reminded of my attempt to call my dad three times when the truck initially broke down, and how my shoulders slumped in defeat at the sound of his voicemail playing repeatedly.

I glance back over to him, ". . . Not exactly. I'll probably just catch the bu-"

"I can drive you,"

I swallowed, my lips slightly parted in surprise. His grin was still wide, awaiting my response.

It was a sweet offer, really. But considering my house was across town, partnered with the fact that he was literally on the job, i shook my head. "That's really sweet, thank you, but I'm far. And you're working, anyway." He shrugs, glancing at the clock once more. "It's fine, Matt's on desk duty and he's closing tonight. I don't mind."

I chew my lip. I'd be stupid to pass up on a ride, but i barely know this kid, and if my dad sees me rolling up with him and no truck, it wouldn't look great.

And then I think about the hour long bus ride that would be in the near future if I declined.

I screw my eyes shut. "You know what? Why not."

Despite the scenario i was in, my mind was pushing out any and all nerves as I watched Chris collect his things from behind the desk. He pulled his wallet, shop keys and jacket out of a cubby.

The two of us walked back into the garage and over to Matt, who was washing his hands in a sink bellow the tool shelves.

Chris bid goodbye to his brother, who looked at the clock and then frowned, turning the faucet off and reaching for the roll of papers towels.

"You're seriously slacking off? I already covered for you and Nate leaving early last weekend." He complained, discarding the wad of paper towels he'd used to dry his hands into the trash bin below.

Chris shot him a look. "And then i covered your sunday morning shift because you were hungover. You owe me."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put your tools away when you open tomorrow. It drives me fucking insane when you leave them everywhere."

Chris salutes. "Roger that." He turned to me and winked, gesturing to follow him through the garage with a tilt of his head.

I followed behind him as he went out a different exit; this one leading to a parking lot on the back of the building. A large EMPLOYEE PARKING sign hung on the fence near the driveway.

He fiddled with the many keys on his carabiner before finally finding his and walking towards a car near the opening in the gate.

A blue, four-seater, convertible 65' mustang. The light from the setting sun literally reflected off of it. He mindlessly stuck the key into the passenger side door, twisting and pulling it open with a faint click.

He gestured his hand towards the seat playfully, "Ladies first."

I rolled my eyes, placing one foot on the floor of the car and ducking my head to sit down. "How gentlemanly of you,"

He grinned at me, closing the door and walking around the back of the car before popping into the driver's seat.

"This is.. wow." I mutter, admiring the small details and cleanliness of the car as he closed his door and threw his belongings in the back. "Jesus, this is yours?"

He smiled proudly, his tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip. "All mine,"

His fingers twisted the key into the ignition and the roar of the engine made the car buzz against my feet. He rolled both of our windows down, the summer air blowing smoothly through the car.

His smile was wider and prouder than ever as he glanced into the rear view mirror, throwing an arm over the back of my seat to glance behind him as he reversed. We pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main road, Chris letting the steering wheel slide back into place under his palm by itself once he'd done so.

"You said you were far," he mumbled. "What area are you in?"

The question pulled me back into reality. I'd gotten so distracted by the way he drove so carelessly, like he was completely relaxed and in control of everything movement the car made, like fear didn't even exist to him as he pressed harder onto the gas pedal with his foot, my eyes choosing to ignore the way the tic on the speed meter start to spike.

His jawline was illuminated in the dim light, and the toothpick that was still resting on his lips stayed moving as he spoke gently, waiting patiently for me to answer.

I started giving him directions, and he listened carefully and intently, glancing over to look at me to make sure he understood my instructions. Once we were on the freeway, he went even faster, lane switching if someone in front of him wasn't going as fast as he'd like them to.

Soft giggles left me as he did, basking in the view of his lips parted into a smile, showcasing pearly teeth between pink lips.

Once he pulled onto the off ramp and we were stopped at a red light, he turned to look at me again, the bright red turning the car a faint shade of crimson.

"What time do you need to be back?"

He asked with a tone of voice he hadn't used till now. The sudden lowness caught me off guard as I shrugged, "'Dunno, not for a while."

He hummed in acknowledgement. "You wanna stay on the road for a bit?"

I pull my knees up to my chest and let my head fall against the headrest, a careless smile on my face. "Definitely."

And we did; we ended up back on the highway pretty quickly, blasting music through a speaker Chris had propped against the dashboard.

His speed only got higher and higher as time went on, carelessly resting one hand on the wheel whilst the other gripped the gear shift. At some point, his hand had mindlessly traveled to rest on my upper bare thigh below the hem of my shorts, cold and partially ringed fingers pressing against my skin.

"Will you do me a favor?"

I raised my eyebrows and hummed in response. He gestured towards the glove box. "Theres a pack of camel blue 99s in the glove box, would you grab em for me?"

I bit my lip. "Depends, you sharing?"

"Duh."

I leaned forward, feeling my stomach flip when his hand didn't much as move an inch on my thigh, brushing against my lower stomach as I lurched forward to fiddle with the glovebox.

I propped it open and grabbed the pack and paused, "d'you have a light?"

He nodded. "Should be one in there."

I learned more forward and reached farther back, glancing around before locking my eyes on a silver flip top lighter and grabbing it. Once i lean back up, Chris is pulling into an empty lot. His hand leaves my leg to push the gear into park, and i try not to frown.

I flick the top of the cig carton open and hastily pull one out, dropping it into Chris's palm.

He places it hazardly between his lips and turns to face me, silently asking for me to light it.

I pop the lid of the zippo open and hold the flam to the end of his cig, waiting to pull away until his expression signifies that its lit enough. His expression relaxes as he breathes in before pulling it away from his mouth with two fingers and exhaling, the smoke filling the car.

"If I'm honest, I prefer marlboro reds." I say quietly in an attempt to break the silence, watching Chris flick the ash out the window lazily with his thumb and index finger. He shakes his head. "Camels are undeniably better."

I laugh lightly and raise my eyebrows in amusement. "No accounting for taste, I suppose."

He takes another drag before holding it in between his fingers in front of my face, and Instead of reaching for it, I place my lips around the filter while it's still in his hand. Our eyes lock while I breath in sharper, the cool feel of the smoke filling my chest.

He licks his lips, and for a moment, his eyes dart down to look at mine, and he's starts he's studying my face. I'm doing the same.

His eyes are bright blue, surrounded by thick lashes, which are barely visible with stray pieces of his hair hanging down below the bandana on his head. Freckles lightly paint his noise, and his pink lips are slightly parted as his eyes scan my face.

"I like your piercing," he finally says, pressing his one hand to his eyebrow as if he had one himself. I breathe out the smoke i'd been holding in my lungs and smile at him. He's still looking at it as he speaks again, "Did it hurt?"

I shrug. "Not really," Because it didn't, but also because I'd feel like an idiot saying it did. "Just a pinch."

He nodded slowly. "Hm."

I take another hit from the cig which he's still holding up to my lips. Our faces are closer now. One of my elbows is resting on the center console as I look at him through my lashes.

"You should get one." I say.

He laughs, breathy and genuine. "Yeah? You think so?"

"Mhm," i reach my hand up to graze above his eye with two fingers. "It would look good on you." He watches my movements. "We'd match, too."

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, finally moving the cig back to his own lips and taking one more long drag before carelessly discarding it out the window.

All too quick, he's facing me again, and he leans even closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, and a part of me thinks he can hear it.

Before I can even blink, he places his fingers on my chin and tilts his head, smashing his lips against mine hard.

Its all teeth at first, clashing messily as his hand leaves my chin and rests as the base of my neck. My hands are on his face, my fingers messing with the curls at the back of his neck while he grins against my lips.

He lightly bites my bottom lip, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like cherry and camels, and I feel myself whimpering at the contact.

"Fuck," he mumbles into my mouth, and his tone is exasperated, partly because the console between us is making it harder for him to kiss me like he wants to, and partly because his attempts to pull me close enough for our chests to press together have been unsuccessful.

His hands reach down to tug at the belt loops of my shorts, trying to pull me onto his lap. I pull away for a second to push myself over the console, Chris's grip on my hips staying firm to assist me. I duck to avoid hitting my head on the roof of the car, and Chris giggles lowly.

I finally relax once I'm comfortable in his lap, straddling his legs below me. One of his hands is across my lower half, sliding his hand into my back pocket, and the other rests in the middle of my back, holding me in place.

We're kissing again, and this time it's more lips and tongue then teeth, but he's still lightly tugging at my lip.

I'm tugging at his hair as I push myself closer to his lower abdomen, pressing down, which elicits a groan from him. He pulls away from me, and I try to follow his lips with a whine, but he tugs at the back of my hair lightly so he can press kisses from my jaw down to my neck.

I'm already whimpering as soon as his teeth press against my throat, and he digs them deep, kissing the mark once he's satisfied with the shade of purple its turned before finding a different spot to do the same thing.

"Chris, fuck- please."

I can feel him below me, and it's making me crazy. He doesn't budge, even as I continue to whine breathlessly at him.

He only grins as he continues to nip at my skin, and i felt the smirk on his face against my throat. I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug as a silent plea. "What s' it, baby?"

Baby.

I practically keen at the nickname. He finally pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to his previous spot on my neck. He grins proudly at the marks he's left before looking at me again.

"What d'you want?" his tone is cocky and assertive. His lips look red and bitten, and I start to feel embarrassed at the fact that we were sucking face so lewdly in a literal parking lot.

I want to squirm and writhe away under his gaze, but his knuckle tight grip on me won't let me. I fiddle with the neck of his shirt and avoid looking at him as i whisper, "I need you."

He grins madly. "How d'you need me, sweetheart?"

I lean forward and press my lips back against his, and he entertains for a little before tugging my hair lightly to pull me back. His fingers grip my chin, holding me in place to look at him.

"Tell me what you want."

I brush my hand against his belt buckle. "I wanna suck you off,"

It came out in a mumble, but he understood, nodding somewhat cockily with a shit-eating grin on his lips. A groan left him as he tugged me even closer so our chests were pressed together. "Yeah?"

I nod eagerly, another 'please' ready to escape my mouth as my impatience grows. He ducks his hand between the seat and the door to push it farther back, "On your knees, then."

I obliged immediately, sliding off his lap to rest on my knees below him. My elbows rest on either side of his legs as my hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at his jeans and boxers.

He lifted his hips lightly to assist me. I pulled them down until they rested around his ankles, and I feel myself gawk.

He's big. Bigger then I expected.

A nervous feeling bubbles in the pit of my stomach, but the way he's looking down at me through hazy vision makes it vanish even quicker, and I wrap my hands around his length.

"You okay?" He asks, moving his hand to rest on my cheek, his thumb soothingly pressed on my temple.

"No- yeah, i'm good." I breathe. I hover myself over him, finally taking him into my mouth. A string of curses leave him in a hushed breath, and his head moves to rest at the back of my head to coax me farther down.

I pull back slightly, wrapping my lips around his tip and sucking lightly. His chest is rising and falling quickly above me, and his labored breathing is music to my ears.

His cock is heavy on my tongue, and its addicting. I take him farther down my throat, hollowing my cheeks to fit as much of him as i can while my hand is in a fist around his base. I bob my head and twist my hand, looking up at him to see his flushed face as he pants.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this." He babbles, a throaty moan leaving him when I twist my hand faster, swirling my tongue along his cock as my head rises and falls.

I hum around his dick at the compliment, the slight sting on my scalp from him pulling my hair only pushing me to do more. He pushes me down slightly, and i choke at the burn of his tip making contact with my uvula.

I moan loudly on him at the feeling, tears building in my eyes as the vibration from the noises i'm making cause him to throw his head back, a blissed out expression on his face. "Fuck, so good. Just like that, god."

Drool seeps from the corners of my mouth as I speed up all my movements. Chris is a breathy, moaning mess above me, watching me through lidded eyes as I glance up at him.

He moves his other hand to rest on the side of my face, grinning at my fucked out appearance. "Fucking filthy girl, aren't you, baby." He says through gritted teeth. "You love this, don't you?"

I whine at him, furrowing my eyebrows in pleasure to say "yes', and watching as his eyes roll lightly back in his head when i start to suck lightly at his tip again.

My hand falls from his base to lay on his leg, the other holding the bottom of his shirt in my fist. I try to push my head farther down, whimpering faintly at the stretch.

Chris's hips jerk up lightly at the sensation, causing him to push himself down my throat until my lips hit the base. I start to choke, but I breathe heavily through my nose, screwing my eyes shut and hallowing my cheeks out to stop myself from pulling off.

"Fuck!" he grunts loudly, his grip on my hair turning animalistic. He mindlessly mutters out curses and praise as he pushes my head up and down with his hands, 'good girl', 'don't stop', 'takin' me so good, baby' 'just like that' . . .

My hands are resting completely at his sides as he guides my mouth on his cock, slightly bucking his hips to push himself as far as I can take him. His strokes turn sloppy, and I look up at him again to see him looking at me with a broken glance, bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuck, gonna cum," he gasps.

I begin to swirl my tongue around him, moaning messily on him as if to say, 'in my mouth, please', but he's already reading my mind, digging his nails into my scalp as he spurts coats of white down my throat, an incoherent string of "fuck fuck fuck"'s spilling out of him. Im swallowing as quickly as i can.

I pull off of him with a lewd pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I know i look completely ruined, but I'm still focused on catching my breath and looking at Chris's flushed pink face above me.

His hand rests on my face again, and his thumb soothingly rubs my cheek. "You okay? Was that too much?" he asks, his expression full of concern as he wipes the tears from under my eyes.

I smile, leaning into his touch. "I'm good, it was really good."

He nods, smiling dumbly. "Good."

He pulls his jeans and boxers back up, bucking his belt before pulling me off my knees and back onto his lap. He presses a soft, passionate kiss on my lips, and then trails kisses down the side of my face, pulling my hair back off my shoulders as we both catch our breath.

We're both startled by the loud ringing of my phone in the passenger seat. I reach over the console, sighing in relief when i flip it over and see my dad's name at the top of my screen.

I put the phone up to my ear, watching as Chris rubs circles into my side with his cold fingers.

"Hi," I breath out. I listen as my dad apologizes for not answering earlier. He tells me he heard my voicemail and asks if I'm okay. "M' fine, I just wheeled it to a shop a couple blocks over. I'm on the bus home now, should only be a bit."

Chris pouts at me, and i roll my eyes at him. My dad talks for a couple for seconds before hanging up, and i leave my phone in the drink compartment next to Chris's forgotten lighter.

"D'you need to get home?" He asked. I nodded, and he frowns. "I was gonna get you off in the backseat,"

part two? :)

thank you for reading! reblogs are DEEPLY appreciated. I hope you enjoyed. links below !

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#Spotify #sturniolos #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #mechanics are sexy #smoker chris #jellyfishbug 🌺

1K notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 1 year ago

Note

How would the batfam react to someone robbing the Manor?

Robber: *enters*

Dick: Oh good, you're here! Do these shorts make my butt look big?

———————

Robber: *taking things*

Jason: What are you doing?

Robber: Robbing you.

Jason: There's a safe in Bruce's office. Passcode is 0816. Feel free to take a crack at it. I'll be in the library if you need me.

———————

Robber: *picking the lock*

*door flies open and hits them*

Tim, on the phone: I'll be there in ten. In the meantime, tell Kon and Bart not to touch anything.

*door slowly swings shut*

Robber, stuck to the door: *slowly peels off*

———————

Robber: *pocketing antiques*

Damian: You must be Alfred's new assistant. I see you're already taking the initiative to get our family heirlooms restored. After that, I need you to do the laundry as I have run out of clean school uniforms.

Robber: Uh, no, kid. I'm robbing you.

Damian: Oh. In that case...

Damian: *stabs them*

———————

Robber: *walks in*

Duke, being kidnapped: Do you mind? We're kind of in the middle of something.

Robber: Sorry, I'll come back later.

———————

Robber: *enters*

Cullen: Hey, I know you're here to rob us, but I've been practicing some magic tricks to impress my boyfriend's family. Can you do me a favor and pick a card?

Robber:

Robber: *picks a card*

———————

Steph: *making a snack while wearing headphones*

Robber: *sneaks up behind her*

Steph: *throws a banana peel over her shoulder*

Robber: *slips on the banana peel*

Robber: *slides across the kitchen*

Robber: *gets tangled in the curtains*

Robber: *falls into a suitcase*

*suitcase shuts*

*suitcase rolls outside into the pool*

Steph: *takes off her headphones and turns around*

Steph: Did someone say something?

———————

Robber: *climbs in through the window*

Cass: Hi.

Robber: Hi.

Cass: You're a robber.

Robber: Yes.

Cass:

Cass: *pushes them out the window*

———————

Robber: *comes in*

Barbara: *looks up from her computer*

Robber: *slowly backs out*

Barbara: That's what I thought.

———————

Robber: Give me the TV!

Harper: Sure, just hold this for me please.

Harper: *hands him a grenade*

Harper: *pulls the pin*

Harper: *walks away*

———————

Robber: *unlocks the door*

Carrie: You must be our new bouncy house guy.

Robber: No, I'm robbing you.

Robber: Wait, you have a bouncy house guy?

———————

Robber: *enters*

Kate, with a clipboard: Name?

Robber: My name's Rob, I'm here to rob you.

Kate: Sorry, I don't have you on our list.

———————

Robber: *saws a hole in the wall*

Helena: What are you doing?

Robber: Robbing you.

Helena: You know the door's unlocked, right? I swear, it's like people don't even try nowadays.

———————

Robber: *unplugging the XBox*

Luke: Best Buy is just down the road.

Robber: ...You're Luke Fox.

Luke: Yes I am.

Robber: Champion MMA fighter Luke Fox.

Luke, rolling up his sleeves: Always nice to meet a fan.

———————

Robber: *ransacking the place*

Bette: Who hurt you?

Robber: What?

Bette: This isn't a healthy coping mechanism. Talk to me. I'm here for you.

Robber, breaking down: It all started when I was little...

———————

Robber: *sneaks in*

Alfred: Not on my watch.

Alfred: *drags them out by the ear*

Robber: Ow, ow, ow.

———————

Robber: *smashes the window*

Selina: Pfft, amateur. Let me show you how it's done.

———————

Robber: *steals the computer*

Bruce: *reading the newspaper*

Robber: *takes valuable jewelry*

Bruce: *still reading*

Robber: *lightly bumps into one of the batkids*

Robber: *turns around*

Bruce: *suddenly appears with the bat-glare*

Robber: I'm just gonna—

Robber: *gets instantly knocked out*

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absolutebl · 13 days ago

Text

This Week in BL - Mame is fielding one of my favorite shows, what is the world coming to?

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

(This was gonna be ready yesterday and then I realized I'd missed 2. Sigh. I'm doing well.)

Feb 2025 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 10 of 12 - SHUT UP. I love them more than anything. I love how nervous and hesitant Thame was the next morning. Def the younger boy who bagged the experienced older dude. This show makes me go “aww” a lot. I do hate this part of the plot though. Because I loathe parasocial fandoms with every fiber of my being and this is why.

The Boy Next World (Sun IQIYI) ep 6 of 10 - The plot has gone wildly off the rails, like into Days of Our Lives waffle iron territory. It is utterly absurd. But I'm still watching it.

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 12 end - I love Style so much. The perfect Brat but he is playing Petruchio not the shrew! Ironic and very kinky twist on the original. I also love how most BLs are like “we’re gonna separate them for 2-5 years in the final ep” and Kant & Style were all “fuck that noise.”

Summary

Jojo directs this action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) meets tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and very flirty mechanic (Dunk) conmen. I dithered over how to rate this. It felt like an 8 show wearing a 9’s britches. There were dropped threads, forgotten characters, and unfinished plot lines even with a particularly long run time. And, for me, it doesn’t have significant rewatch potential. But it was fun (when one applies no expectations or logic) and I enjoyed the wildly unhinged relationships and, weirdly, music. I mean nobody claimed that we needed Taming of the Shrew only with gay Thai hitman, but we really needed it. And no one asked for Petruchio as the gayest brat ever to strut his perfect skin and copped-top across our screen, and yet we loved him for it. Sure it didn’t make sense, was utterly absurd, but it was terribly earnest and sexy about it. IN the end this goes hand-in-hand with all these other absurd crime pieces we’ve been getting since KP, and frankly I like this one the best from Thailand so far. 9/10 but I’m slightly uncomfortable with that decision.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 16 of 24 - It’s cute. They were cute. I enjoyed it. But I am still mostly just looking forward to the next couple.

Sangmin Dinneaw (Sun iQIYI) ep 7-8 end - I forgot to watch this one for over a week, goes to show how engaged I am. Anygay, ep 7 amnesia trope is ago. A lot the ep was fuss in hospitals so I went ahead and watched the finale as well. It was fine.

Conclusion

Given its charmingly simple premise and a solid lead pair, this could’ve been quite an tidy little BL, but it went all weird and slapstick and overtly sexual (and I enjoy high heat). It was a little bit like YYY meets modern Thai BL but mixed with early Japanese pinks. All very strange. I ended up being half bored half annoyed half confused half embarrassed. And if that’s too many halves for you, now you know how I felt. 5/10

Flirt Milk (Sat YT) ep 4 or 10 - Umm plot? Where are you?

Ossan‘s Love Thailand (Mon YouTube) ep 6 of 12 - Workplace harassment, form of... Thai BL.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

When it Rains it Pours (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - Is the live-in boyfriend meant to be perceived as a psychopath or just a controlling monster? I love how blunt Sei was with him. Such and honest little bean. Ah, controlling monster. Well, I really hope they can resolve this in the final episode. Despite all of the pain I’m enjoying it, it's being true to itself.

This is JBL doing its thing and toeing the Tokyo in April party line. I don't know why anyone would expect anything different. Go watch Eternal Yesterday and drink me later. This is what Japan DOES with BL at least half the time. The more JBL we get, the more of this kind of show we get with it. It's a numbers game - just add bruises.

Heart Stain (Korea Weds IQIYI) eps 3-4 of 8 - I have to admit that the only reason I even tolerate love triangles as a trope is because of K-dramas. But I still don’t like it. That said, I do like all of the honesty and conflict that's built into this story and frankly dealt with because of the trope. And I love how massive Woohyeon is so baby girl. The lap sitting was extremely cute. The teacher finding them lap sitting was also cute. And the handhold drag afterwards was cutest. The whole scene was adorable.

FC Soldout (Korea Thurs iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 8 - Tiny idiots. Every. Single. One. (@heretherebedork you must be loving these boys.) Give me a sec to talk to a character: Captain. Sweetcheeks. You know there are better ways to exhaust your adorable boy-toy late at night than forcing him to do physical labor, right? Or, at least, not that kind of physical labor.

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 9 of 12 - Oooo. emotional Ever 4. Poor baby. I did want to see him kick ass. Hopefully that’s the beginning of next week’s episode.

Impression of Youth (Taiwan Weds Viki) eps 6 of 9 - Very little happened in this episode. Lots of flashbacks. And stuff we’ve already seen.

Fight for Love (Vietnam YT) ep 2 - Ooo 2 timing? Coils within coils, tongues within tongues, my goodness these boys are getting around. It’s all very messy gay drama llama ding dong but... comedy. It’s a new one on me. But sooner that than Thailand’s Only Friends version.

Exclusive Love (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - Shy aspiring singer inherits funeral business. Nice to have something more from Taiwan to watch. But this is extremely odd, and somewhat extreme behavior, given the premise. That is a lot of personnel and sunglasses just for one guitar-playing influencer. Even if I agree that he shouldn’t be allowed to play. Surreal that it’s a mafia funeral business, although I suppose it makes sense. It’s not creepy, but the creep-factor is high with this show. It's also v thirsty already. I kind of like the sides, but they seem to be in a different BL. So far, mostly whiplash but I'm not mad about it.

Checkered Shirt (Korea YT) ep 2 of 8 - It remains awkward and cute, but a little boring for a short.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 19 of 20 - Today in: how to tell your suicidal stepbro you wanna d**k him out.

It's airing but......

Gelboys (Thai Weds iQIYI) ep 1 of 7 - I’m immediately terrified by the fact that he’s carrying a guitar around. It’s slow with that dirty gritty high school authenticity thing from OG Love Sick. Which is not my favorite style of any show, let alone BL. I always get Kids PTSD. I think I’m gonna give this show a pass. It’s just too far out of my wheelhouse. I don’t have patience for this right now.

The Last Time (Thai WeTV) trailer - from 2024, not sure about this one, looks dark. Since it's also difficult for me to get hold of I am giving it a pass until I know about the ending.

Speaking of which...

In Case You Missed it

I Will Turn Back Time (China Gaga) 6 eps - Spies report it does not end well. Stepbrothers trope = yeah! but all other messaging = boo. I'm not gonna bother.

End of year wraps are here!

2024 Trend Report

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

Best Kisses (and sex scenes) of 2024

BL's 2024 Quirky Awards

2024 Awards - Quick Picks

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/21 Bali Hai (Thailand ????) no MDL listing, only rumors, unsure on deets.

2/27 Secret Relationships (Korea iQIYI) - Stars Wei's Kim Jun Seo. Adapted by Cradle Studio (Kakao). About clever and resourceful Daon who has worked hard to overcome being poor. His cheap ways annoy his coworker, Sunghyeon but after “an incident” with his parents, Daon grows closer to him. But Daon also has feelings for his former tutor. This has the signs of a classic Kdrama all over it: Office setting, love triangle, lead suffering for his self-actualization. I’m optimistic about a longer treatment.

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Got nothing. Frankly you're lucky this came in a somewhat timely manner, with any screen caps at all. It's chaos 'round these parts.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

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kirby-derb · 24 days ago

Text

Te...teehee? I dunno what I would name this so I'm going to call it

Grinding Gears

Summary thingy: As a mechanic in the undercity you had often found yourself with some rather odd jobs, fixing up a bomb, and bio-weapons, though you were never quite ready to ask for an arm. Though you did love a challenge. Now years after you still find yourself looking for parts.

Pairings Ig? Reader x Sevika, Jinx is in here but she's like 14 so she and reader got a fun little friend/mentor dynamic

“How good are you at artificial limbs?”

That…wasn’t a new question per say, though it was an odd situation.

One moment you were sitting in your shop fixing up what remained of someone’s prized gun and the next you wake up and you’re in some dingy room, eye’s not yet adjusted to the lack of light or the burning sensation in the back of your head. As you try to get your bearings you hear the question asked again, this time you see someone step from the darkness that surrounds you.

You knew this one, somewhat. “Silco? You’re one of Silco’s men. Holy fucking-” You try to sit up in the chair only to find your hands were tied behind you, so you yell into the darkness, “SILCO WHAT THE FUCK MAN? I am just your number one supplier and this is the thank you I get? Well fuck you too!”

As if on cue the man you were screaming for came out from the darkness, his steps slow as he looked at you, the same unreadable expression across his face. However, what caught your attention was the little girl that trailed behind her, so you stare at the little thing for a moment, and he must have caught on to your staring because he spoke again. “Answer the question.”

Your eyes flicker up to him and then back to the little girl, who stood behind him as if he was some shield, better than the man you knew him to be. “Since when-nevermind. Limbs? Uh,” You tilt your head back, eyes staring at the ceiling, only looking forward when a droplet of water snapped you out of the trance and you look back to him, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t know until I’m staring at what I’m supposed to fix, how much is left? Nerves, muscle, bone, I don’t know what to fix if I can’t see the fuck up.” You grumble out, eyes pretty much on the little girl alone, the bright blue hair in a neat french braid and clothes a bit too big for her- but they were new. Poor thing looked terrified. The silence crept in and you look back to Silco, “Does this have to do with the explosion on-”

“We are not talking about that.” He interpreted, leaning over to one of the men, whispering something you couldn’t quite catch.

“Copy that, fuckface.” You smile when he shoots you a glare, and you adjust in the chair again, “Gonna let me go? Cause ya know, I do need my hands to actually do my job.”

Maybe to your surprise, or dismay, he nudged the little girl forward, her trembling hands holding a set of keys. Her steps tripping over the other, eyes set on you as if you would pounce on her the second she looked away, you wanted to say something, anything- maybe because you knew what it felt like to be scared and alone, to be forced to trust a person she would grow up and realize she shouldn’t have. But you keep your mouth shut, hearing the cuffs unlock and you wait for the little girl to retreat back to her safe inner circle before you look at Silco again. The look in your eyes saying a thousand words, and he seemed to catch on, as he only looked at you for a moment before looking away.

You and Silco had been partners since before he became….Silco, you were younger than the rest of the group back then, taken under the wing. Yet since the rebellion and the deaths of the innocent, you had drifted from friends to mildly cordial business partners. As your talents included fixing just about anything that needed to be fixed and an inordinate ability to talk your way out of any situation, that and a few Higher up on topside seemed to be hung up on you, so it made shipments easy. You clear your throat as you slowly move to stand, “Tell me about the job.”

“It’s a prosthetic, it needs to be fully functional. Arm, there’s nothing till the shoulder.”

“We have a doctor monitoring her condition, she’s stable.” Silco slowly sits down in a chair, the little girl that seemed to follow him sitting down by his feet. “How much do you want?”

If your jaw wasn’t on the floor the pure shock and distaste in your eyes was obvious, you blink a few times, “I can make a prosthetic, easy peasey; but a fully functional one? Do you realize the writing and the time and the-shit man, that fucker would be heavy-”

“She can handle it.”

The next words on your lips fade and you suddenly realize what was missing from this whole picture, the huge lack of the person you probably would’ve noticed first. With a small tilt of your head you whisper, “Where is she?”

Your breathing was slow, your eyes watching him move but nothing else in your body would move, “I-...” The words were in your throat but nothing else would speak, “I…Let me see her.”

“I can’t do that.”

You spin on your heel and look at him, words coming out as venom, “Let me see her or I am going to charge so high your fucking daughter will still be paying your fucking debt after I kill you.”

“Which. Room?”

“It is not a good-”

“Which room?”

“She’s drugged up-”

“Second on the left.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You considered yourself to be a very controlled and easy going woman, you didn’t do things on a spur of the moment emotion and you had a tendency to do the wrong thing simply because the right thing would mean you would have to acknowledge some emotion you were trying to ignore. However, as you sat in that uncomfortable chair staring at that infuriating, stubborn, cocky and just overall horrible woman, all you could do is act on the emotions in your chest. The nail bed on your left hand picked raw and your eyes so focused on the rise and fall of her chest, words harsh whenever someone would get too close.

“You’re a doctor?”

The poor man looked even more scared than the little girl, his hands and legs shackled together, eyes holding that lovely topsider gleam. Though it was slowly fading, as Zaun would probably do that to a person. The scrubs he wore were dirty from probably being forced down here for days on end, and his family was probably already grieving. Awful that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Emergency medicine.”

The harsh gaze was then fixed on him, “How is she?”

“The blast cartigized the wound, so I am not worried about any blood loss, I am just making sure it doesn’t get infected…as this or the supplies I’m given are exactly sterile-” he looked back to you and then cleared his throat, “You undercity people are very scary, you are aware of this?”

“You think I’m scary? Wait till Sev wakes up.” You scoff out a laugh, leaning back in the chair and then you tilt your head with a small sniffle that would never admit to be your attempt to keep the tears from your eyes. “Vitals though…stable?”

The man nodded to your words, “Heart Rate is a little slow, but I gave her meds for the pain and they can cause that, BP is good, she’s on room air…like I said, I’m just wanting to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He cleared his throat after a moment, going to grab another bag of saline, “And you are to the Patient? I mean, HIPPA doesn’t exist here but I still-”

“Fuck-buddy.” You snip out, giving him a look, after all- that was just about all you could summarize your relationship. “Really friendly fuck-buddies.” He looked utterly flabbergasted by your reply so you continued, “You don’t have those in topside? You Piltie’s too good for a ol fashioned good time?” You giggle to his stammering reply brushing off the words, “Anyway, when will she wake up?”

As if on cue the voice of the woman that had swallowed up your entire reality came through the someone silence of the room, “Hard to sleep with your yapping.”

To say you were on your feet within a second would be the understatement of the century, and you slowly approach the bed, trying to laugh the worry across your expression away, though that was a febrile attempt. “My bad, my bad, I’ll keep my trap shut.” You had seen Sevika hurt more times than you care to admit, and you were used to the grimacing look of pain she very often had on her face- though nothing quite compared to the look that was currently cursing your eyes.

She probably could probably see the way your eyes took in her state, the way your eyes never focused on one spot for too long and how your breathing was faster than her own, how you held your hands to your chest. “It doesn’t hurt.” She tried to comfort, though the grunt she gave as she tried to sit up did nothing but the opposite.

On instinct your hand carefully moves to her shoulders, touch ghostly against the bandaged one, “Let-lets not sit up, huh. Gotta get that fixed up so I can get ya a new arm, mm?”

Sevika stared at you for a moment, maybe the drugs were messing with her impulse control, “Smart and pretty. Gonna get me a new arm and then what, marry me?”

You blink and then look to the doctor, “What the fuck did you give her?”

The doctor looked like he might just drop dead from a heart attack, “Just basic painkillers.”

“So she’s…high?”

She stared up at you for a long moment, sure, drugs could mess with her perception of things but she was still very much in control of what she said- somewhat, that’s what she liked to tell herself, plus- right now? She could say just about anything and face no repercussions for it, as- after all- she was just ‘high’. “You called me pretty.”

Sevika interjected in the conversation, “No, I’m not.”

You look back down at her, your frown ever so evident on your face, “You are, pretty girl. Very very high.”

“I did, didn’t I?” You say quietly, vision growing a bit blurry the longer you looked at her, carefully brushing your fingers across her face, taking in every last cut or burn that wasn’t there the last time you saw her, “I’m afraid I just happen to care about you enough to think you’re pretty.”

“Don’t cry,” her words were hushed, her hand coming to cover yours, “It’s not bad enough for you to cry, sunshine.”

You sniffled up what you considered to be something unrelated to tears and you scrunched up your face in distaste, “You quite literally lost your arm, as-as your-...” You falter, “As someone who cares about you, I think I have a right to be a little worried.”

“You don’t have a title.”

“You’re right,” She said in reply, her eyes met yours as she moved her hand to the nape of your neck.

“I….am?” That was first, normally once Sevika found a hill she liked she would die on it, figuratively and quite literally. After all she just lost her arm for a hill that was bound to crumble and swallow her whole eventually, though everyone else but her could see that.

Huh? Oh.

“Yeah, I don’t and…and that’s okay, that-that's how you like it, baby,” You were trying to remind her, before she said something that not…high out of her mind version of Sevika would resent you later for, “That’s how you like it.”

She grunts, “No it’s not.”

“It is. You just can’t remember.”

“I remember just fine,” She said harshly, her eyes meeting yours, she almost seemed disgusted with your attempts to deny whatever affection she was trying to show, “And you’re my girl, you know that.”

“I do know that.”

“And I-”

“And you’re my pretty lady, toughest one in all of the undercity- now cmon, you should rest, yeah? I got that…gotta get your arm ready for you.” You look to the doctor, “If I hear you so much as as poke her wrong-”

“My life is over, I will…I’ll die.” He interjected, eyes wide.

“Atta boy.”

⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓

“I don’t understand why it won’t go off.” Powder- or Jinx? Had grumbled from her spot beside your workbench. You weren’t sure which was the girl's name, so you had referred to calling her ‘kiddo’ seemed like an appropriate name, even though the girl was closer to fourteen. The girl was good with machines, as you noticed from your inordinate amount of time spent with Silco.

A moment passes before you stabilize the hextech core, a relatively new technology that you were still trying to grasp, and you pull away, lifting up your visor so look at the small device she was working on. With a small hum you motion for her to sit beside you and she did, setting the device in front of you, bright colors painted along it. Carefully you pick it up, spinning the circular device around and then you look at the girl, who had her head in her hands, watching you.

“Well, um, kiddo- what is it supposed to do?”

“Go boom.” When she saw your unamused expression she spoke again, “Explode.”

“Ah.” You set the device down a bit further away from you, “What type of explosion are we talkin about? Cause i’ve seen the color bombs you put on Sev-”

Powder grins broadly at the mention, “I remember. Heard it scared the shit out of you.”

“It wasn’t exactly fun to have bright neon pink all over the room-” You stop your words and clear your throat, “Wasn’t fun, kiddo. If you wanna play a prank gotta cue me in on it. Gonna give me a heart attack, kay?”

“Mmkay.” She chirps and then nudges the device back to you, “Fix it?”

You frown as you take the device back, the thick gloves not doing you any favors, so you take one of them out and take off one of the shells of it, looking inside- it took about a millionth of a second to see what was wrong- but you had also been doing this for a while. So you hum, “Ya know I-” You were cut from your train of thought when you heard the door open, and you only gave a quick glance behind you before you knew who it was. “Actually, kiddo, it’s all you, you’re smart. Find what’s wrong and then tell me, and I’ll show you how to fix it.”

The girl groaned dramatically as you swung around on the bench, bending to where she saw everything upside down to see you walk towards Sevika, “Oh gross, I think this is much more interesting than your cripple girlfriend-uck!”

You turned Sevika away from the girl before she had the chance to make some snip back, practically dragging her over to the other workbench. Once you thought you were a safe distance from Powder, at the very least where the girl wouldn’t have an easy time eavesdropping, you spoke. Crossing your arms over your chest as you look up at her, “I figure this isn’t a social call.”

Your words were confirmed when she reached over to the prosthetic, which till that point was covered by a hood, the model that took you two months to build, and set it down on the counter. To that your eyes go between her and the now ruined piece of machinery, your mouth slightly agape.

“Ooooh Sevika broke your arrrrm, is she in the dog house? She’s so in the dog house.” Powder chipped from the banister above the workbench, how she got there, neither of you knew.

Sevika, for once, ignored the girl and looked back to you, “Have I mentioned I like the-whatever you changed about your hair? I like it.”

Your eyes slowly go to her, “I didn’t change my hair.”

“You didn’t? Fuck.”

“It’s just down.”

“It’s pretty down, very…pretty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It just stopped working.”

“Before or after you chose to beat someone’s skull in, like I told you not to do because I didn’t place the titanium there yet because the shipment wasn’t in? Did it stop working after you didn’t listen to me, Sevika? Cause yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it, because maybe- as the mechanic, the designer and everything else for this revolutionary piece of machinery, I know what I’m talking about.”

There was a silence as you looked at what you consider to be your girlfriend, though titles were never really discussed- hell you fought like an old married couple but everything else was like a newlywed. You cross your arms over your chest as she looks down at you, as if daring her to explain herself.

“Yeah it happened after that. Just fix it, sunshine.” She said after a moment, quickly pressing a kiss to the top of your head before she turned, “Come on, Jinx. Silco wants you.”

Powder dropped down onto the desk in front of you, looking up at you as if she was about to ask to stay but she then slid off of the metal and walked to catch up to Sevika, grabbing her satchel and running off into the darkness.

With a huff of a laugh you look back to the prosthetic, quickly taking out the load of shimmer that was perfectly placed in the chamber that took you longer than it should to place there and you carefully set it down. The shimmer was unfortunately a needed aspect for the functionality for the device, as without it the connection port and the device would be pressing against the remaining muscle, the nerves, and it would be…agonizing. As you had quickly realized after trying the first prototype. As the shimmer seemed to give the body the last level of adrenaline and…and it numbed it just enough so the pain wouldn’t be overwhelming.

It seemed that the shimmer was the only thing intact from the original prosthetic. And you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“You what?” Sevika almost laughed out when she heard you speaking, trying to take off her boots as she sat on your bed. Her small laugh died as she saw the seriousness in your stare and you adjusted the corset like top.

You look in your reflection, your skin lacking the liveliness it would gain from being in the sun, yet everything else looked just about right. In the right light and with the proper voice and accent you would go for an average citizen of Piltover.

“I am going up to Topside and I am going to get my supplies so I can fix your prosthetic.” You said as you slipped on the heels, listening to the small clicking noise as you took a few steps away to look at your overall outfit. A skirt that fell to your knees and the light green monochrome with the white accents. Your hair pinned up to a more….Topsider-esk style.

“Give me ten minutes.”

Once you were content you turned to face her, “Do I look like a Piltie? Do you wanna punch me?” You say with a small smile on your perfectly painted lips.

Her eyes shamelessly undressed you mentally, and she grunts as she stands up, her hand delicately going to your cheek, “I have a better idea.”

“I walked straight into that one-um no, I gotta go.” You stand on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to her lips and then turn around to grab your bag, currently it was empty so it was remarkably light.

“What?” You turn around to her.

“You’re not going alone.”

“Uh, yes. I am.”

Sevika frowned at your snipped reply, “What if you get caught? The supplies you need aren’t legal. They’ll throw you in stillwater or…”

“It’s not safe.”

“And Zaun is?”

You give a small laugh and move your hands to her cheeks, “Baby enforcers. They are dumb and they’re probably too scared to look at anyone wrong.

You frown, “I’ll be fine. I’ve done it a million times before- And…” a sigh escaped your lips as you slowly walked over to her, setting the bag back down, “You are the toughest lady in Zaun…and you look like it. Plus the Bootcamp enforcer whatever just finished so all new Enforcers on the ground, they don’t know a Zaunite from their ass.”

Sevika looked flabbergasted by your words she blinked, “You just told me there are more enforcers up there and you expect me to be comforted?”

She frowned as she looked down at you, “I’m still going with you.”

“You will not. Because If i am not here and you are not here who is going to make sure Powder won’t blow up half of the lanes? She’s getting better at it, so….I wouldn’t put it past her.” When you tried to move away again you felt the charmed necklace that adorned your neck grow tighter, turning around and looking up at your girlfriend, “You’re gonna choke me.”

“Normally you like it.”

You narrow your gaze, “Mm, are either of us naked? No? Then right now I don’t.” Your hands go to hers, trying to pry her grip from the gold chain, a silly prized possession- something you had stolen when you were little, but it was yours. “Oh my god you’re like a baby- let go.”

“One of-”

“You can’t make me.”

“What will it take then?”

“Anything sexual and I will hit you.”

She faltered, a frown appearing on her lips, “A kiss.”

Your expression softened, a small laugh coming from your lips to the somewhat muttered and disgruntled sounding request. You had to admit, sometimes she just had a kicked puppy look about her, something that when you first saw it you thought she was dying- turns out you are one of the only people to see it, “I can do that.”

It was silly how you had to adjust to reach her, because by no means were you a small person, you were well built and of average height. But there was always something that made you feel…small. Part of you hated it, the other adored it. Like most kisses shared, it was some level of perverted want and a dance between it and the actual affection trying to be shown. Her hand on the back of your head trying to keep you in place while you attempted to find the good breaking point. Failing at doing so.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

With a small gasp you break the kiss, “You still,” A kiss interrupted your words but you pulled away again, eyes dilating at the sight of the dark red lipstick now smeared on her lips, “Can’t come with me.”

“Shut up.” She hissed back, pulled your hair just enough to make your mouth open from the stretcher before leaning over and devouring your lips.

“You are a very pretty young lady.” You say with a small smile to the enforcer, who was probably only eleven years younger than yourself, handing over the forged identification.

“You are…”

“Missus Mari Korvik.” You replied with the fake name, smiling with the lips that you had just replied the lipstick too as the last coat got aptly smeared away, and you hold Sevika’s arm, “This is my wife, Alexia- I apologize, she’s deaf, you know how that turf war in the southern sides are- oh, my girl fought for so long they finally discharged her after well-” You vaguely motion to her, who looked somewhat normal when you did her makeup and took off the prosthetic port; and you would not be lying if you said you very much enjoyed getting her dressed.

The enforcer clears her throat, the dark that probably should’ve been pulled back falling in front of her face, “And what was the cause for your visit to the undercity?”

You keep your smile and then you clear your throat, “Oh well, you know…spicing up the marriage. Been together for oh gosh, coming up fifteen years now? Things get dull and day time prices are so much better than-”

“Alright Missus and Missus Korvik, you are all signed in, have a wonderful day.” The girl aptly said, handing the small booklets back.

Works like a charm.

After a polite goodbye you walk into the city, steps lively as you look at some of the vendors, eyes going to the jewelry stores and the high fashion. The crowd grew lively as you reached the heart of Piltover. Once there were no enforcers nearby Sevika leaned over to your ear, her words low, “You couldn’t have thought of any other cover?”

You hum as you walk to a vendor taking one of the baked goods and tossing him a fake coin in return, though he would never know it was. You break it in half and hold her a portion, “If you won’t marry me then Alexia will be married to Mari. Let a girl dream, Sev.” When she refuses to take the other side you hum and take a bite, looking around.

She grunts at that reply, and when you again offer the piece of bread to her, she takes it this next time, as she had a sneaking supposition that you wouldn't stop till she did, “Where is this guy you’re suppose to meet?”

“Mm, the academy.”

“What.”

You look at her and then give a small smile, “He’s a student or something. Super nice guy. I trade some of my blueprints for new hextech gadgets and stuff, the latest thing he unveiled is the small stabilizer thingy? He had his own version but ya know…perspective helps. So he gives me parts and stuff and I give him blueprints.” You shrug off the look she was giving you and you look back to her, “My meeting is at 4. So we have some time.”

“Oh…lovely.” She grumbles.

Annnnd that is all i have thus far, I am unsure if it will be a series though if even one person asks for another part the chances are very high I will write it. And yeah! I would love some feedback! BYEEEE

#sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika x oc #sevika x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x reader #sevika fanfic #arcane fanfic #sevika fluff #sevika smut #i love my sevika

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houseofanticipation · 6 months ago

Text

The collar is a little too loose. It moves around too much, chafing. The restraints on your wrists are better, but the weight of your arms presses them into your skin uncomfortably. Your legs are unsecured, but your options there are limited. The last person to stop by left you at an awkward height: too high to sit, too low to stand. You're forced to hold an uncomfortable squat, or else choke yourself on the collar. Of course, it isn't supposed to be comfortable. If it was, it wouldn't be much of a punishment.

"Hey, nice!" a man in mesh gym shorts and a sweat-soaked tank top has just come around the partition that divides your repurposed shower stall from the rest of the locker room. His voice echoes as he calls out to someone. "Dude, come check it out!" He pulls a long, hard cock out of his shorts.

Your collar is locked to a ratchet mechanism, which in turn is mounted securely to the wall. Your wrists are strapped to a crossbar, keeping them at head height, wherever that is at any given time. The crossbar is a recent addition; you simply couldn't resist touching yourself when your arms were free. So last month He installed the crossbar, to help you avoid spoiling your own punishment.

The man shuffles up, feet on either side of you, finding his position. He taps his cock on your forehead, then turns the crank a few times. The ratchet begins to click, and the collar tightens around your throat as it's lifted several inches. You adjust your position, and open your mouth.

Another man rounds the corner as the first one begins to fuck your mouth. This one looks to be straight out of the shower; his hair is still wet, and the only thing he's wearing is a white towel around his waist. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you. "What am I looking at here?"

The man in the gym shorts isn't shy about using you. Some of them were, at first, but they've gotten comfortable with the situation now. They've learned to stop seeing you as a person who might care what they do to you. With each thrust his balls bounce off your chin. He presses deep down your throat, his hard abdominal muscles squashing your nose, and holds you there as he talks to his friend. "This is the...what does he call it..." his cock shifts in your throat as he cranes his neck to get a look at paper sign on the wall behind him. "Complimentary relief station." He laughs. "It's the manager's girlfriend. She's not always here, so you gotta make use of her when she is."

They guy in the towel seems unconvinced. "And she's...fine with this?"

"I wouldn't say she loves it," says Gym Shorts, starting to thrust again. "But she knows it's what she deserves."

He's right, in a way. Punishment days are grueling. You come away sore, exhausted, and filthy. You're also terrified of gagging, and it hasn't gone away with exposure like He said it would. You've just gotten better at turning off your gag reflex.

But he's also wrong. You do love it. You love it. The feeling of getting what's coming to you, of being made to suffer when you know suffering is what you've earned—it's electric, exhilarating, arousing. No doubt by this point in the day there's a small puddle underneath you, from where your wet cunt has been leaking since 9:00 AM this morning.

Gym Shorts groans and pulls out, throwing his head back as he shoots thick ropes of cum across your face. You shudder, and goosebumps rise on your arms. Your pussy drips.

"You're really gonna make a mess like that?" says Towel indignantly. "I'm not gonna use her if she's covered in your jizz, dude!"

Gym Shorts shrugs. "Sorry man, that's how he said to do it. Apparently she can't stand the feeling of cum on her skin." That is completely true. It's like nails on a chalkboard, or styrofoam scraping against itself. It sends s shiver down your spine, and it just gets worse as it sits there, getting cold, crusting over. "Spray her down if it bothers you that much. Or just use her pussy."

"What, that's an option?" says Towel.

"Sure man," says Gym Shorts, pointing to the hose showerhead on the wall. "It's still a shower."

"No, I mean her pussy. You were using her mouth when her pussy is open for business?"

Gym Shorts shrugs. "I like what I like."

"Alright, move over," says Towel, unwrapping his namesake and throwing it over his shoulder. "You've had your turn."

It takes a minute or so to get you upright; the ratchet is made for finer control, so he's cranking for a while before you're where he wants you. He reaches around and lifts your leg up, holding you under the thigh. The collar constricts around your throat as you lose balance on your one free leg; the pressure isn't enough to cut off your airways, but it's enough to make you moan involuntarily.

"Jesus Christ, dude, she's really wet," says Towel, running a finger between your pussy lips.

"Yeah, man," says Gym Shorts. "I've been telling you. She's a freak."

Towel fucks you like a hole in the wall. He fucks you like something cheap and disposable. When you moan with humiliation and pleasure, he turns to Gym Shorts and says, "Is there a way to shut her up?"

"You can just slap her a few times," says Gym Shorts. "She'll get the picture." Each strike is a stinging, burning reminder of your place.

You don't cum exactly. You never cum on punishment days; it would be inappropriate to feel that kind of pleasure. But for a few minutes before and after Towel finishes inside you, you enter a warm, floaty place where the pain and discomfort and shame all just melt away. You're exactly where you belong. You're becoming the purest form of yourself, your soul clean and clear and free of stains. This is what it's all about. This is bliss.

Towel is using your leg to wipe the last drops of cum off his cock when He enters. Your hang from the wall, your knees too weak to support you, your eyelids fluttering as you come down from that perfect place. When you see Him your chest swells, your eyes focus; cartoon hearts might as well be flying around your face.

"Hey guys, thanks for coming," He says as the two men go off to get changed. He cups your face in his hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, sir." You always get bashful around him after a punishment day. It's embarrassing and exciting, letting him see you like this.

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asks.

You nod, staring into his dark eyes.

"Do you think you got what you deserved?"

You think about it. You can't be flippant with these things; it's important to give a truthful answer. "I think I deserve a few more hours, sir."

That makes Him smile. His smile could light up a room. "Good girl. You make me so proud." He leans forward and gives you a little kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back for you when I close up."

As his echoing footsteps recede, a glob of cum spills out of your cunt and joins the puddle on the floor.

#cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #r@pe kink #r@pe fantasy #r@petoy #breeding toy #library 🜞

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space-blue · 6 months ago

Text

Arcane 2 Trailer time!

Imagine this chick comes into your office and tells you what to do? What are you gonna do?? Tell her no?????

Overall Ambessa and Sevika are really making this season MILF o'clock.

It would seem that early season will focus on Jinx terrorist time...

This is sadly the only LoL skin she could afford...

If you like Cait AND you like your women in pain/getting squeeze like they're a pineapple in the werewolf fucking press, then it seems this season is going to be for you. But Cait isn't the only one having a bad time, seems like Heimerdinger losing his day job led to some relaxation of his principles:

Now focusing on Ekko, who we know is helping Heimer:

This has a chain to pull a mechanism, and we see some similar thing being pulled by an unknown character, just a much thicker chain.

These shots of the Firelights attacking AMBESSA's people lead me to believe that the story may look like > Councillors listen to Ambessa > The tensions with Zaun escalate > Jinx terrorism instead of resolution > Vi sees this as failure and returns to Zaun to try another way > Ambessa doesn't take no for an answer > everyone teams up against Noxus, bringing Zaun and Piltover together again.

By hair alone we can see a timeskip here. Love Ekko's outfit. Vi's simpler style with just a bit of Piltie chest armour gives me hope that she transitions away from being a Piltie Enforcer and more of a Vander style character, trying to mediate.

Notice how dark her roots are???? I am wondering because LOOK:

She has black hair!! With reddish tips?

SO THIS MEANS THIS IS VI'S NEW LOOK:

And this last shot confirms it! RHEA RIPPLEY makeover!!!!

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLESAEPLEASE BE REAL please don't be an inforcer don't be a cop please be cool please have an arc learn progress return to your people don't be a class traitor I beg I begwaah

My only criticism of this is that we now have 2 options: Either Vi is entering her goth era and is actively dyeing everything sloppily so that bits of Pink remain, or she has always been black haired, and has been dyeing her hair AND eyebrows pink her whole life, even as a child.

I get that it could be a cultural thing parents do, as my friend En suggested. I'd like this, if it weren't for the fact she was in stillwater for YEARS and I don't see them providing pink dye and a nice setup to bleach and dye safely...

Curious to see how it goes.

At this I screamed "Silco????" But not sure now. Seems too far off to be a Jinx vision.

There's also fucky things going on with the Arcane. We're told it's "waking up", which is curious because I was assuming mages across Runeterra were using the Arcane lots for their own magic, so very happy to learn more about it.

Also very cool to see a return of the wizard guy from Jayce's backstory:

Very excited for these depictions of magic :

Free feet included.

I'm pretty amazed that we have seen Zero Mel and Zero Jayce, and just 2-3 frames of hinted Viktor. Nice to see he'll go through with the transformation, but I'm curious as to why they're keeping the jeyvik divorce era so out of promo. Some of my friends feeling very edged right now.

Wondering if this is baby Powder flashbacks, or if we're going to get little kids getting dyed blue in celebration as we see adults do when they team up with her. I suspect if this is a kiddo who wanted to be blue like Jinx, this will be used as a parrallel, with them being caught in an attack that harkens back to the bridge.

The visual effects look insanely gorgeous, and also Jinx's very bad time tm is always on the menu. Very exciting!

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anim-ttrpgs · 5 months ago

Note

I recently ran an oneshot for my friends in Eureka.

It was a lot of fun and went mostly smoothly! The charakter creation was very easy. It still took more time than I expected, but that was simply because the players needed it to decide on which traits etc. to pick.

The central resolution mechanic with 2d6 is of course tried and true (I assume. Never played one of the many other 2d6 games.) but especially the Eureka system felt really good.

I think I read in a recent post of your's, that you are overhauling the chapter on combat. That seems very important to me. Even though I read the whole book once before running the game, I had immense problems finding out how small details of the combat worked during play. The musings on game design (eg, "yes, the combat is deadly, thats on purpose heres why" and such) where really enlightening to read, but got in the way when searching for concrete stats.

I will run the same oneshot again for different friends. The game seems really promising to me.

My mystery took place on a single in game evening, and none of the players were monsters. Having therefore only scratched at the surface of Eureka, I am looking forward to running it more.

Woo! We LOVE hearing about this kinda stuff!

And yeah everything about how the combat-related rules are structured is getting overhauled. All of that was written like 2 years ago when I was a slightly worse game designer and MUCH worse at writing coherent paragraphs and hasn’t been touched since until now. Instead of being split across like four paragraphs (what was I thinking), there will be just two chapters on it: “Instruments of Violence”, which is mostly just a giant list of references for the stats and special rules of weapons and armor, and “Dangerous Situations”, which covers every rule related to how your investigators can get killed. Some of these clean-ups are already available in the latest patreon release, and the rest are coming soon to both patreon and the itchio beta.

Combat is a very rare thing in Eureka, but when it does come up, we want it to be tight and granular, but without wasting the players’ time, which I think we’ve done pretty well at.

Like the book says, combat is deadly and there’s a reason why: so it doesn’t waste the players’ time.

This is a twofold problem to solve. The first layer of it, we solved by making sure the numbers are low. Most weapons can take a character down in 2 to 3 hits, so a single instance of two guys smacking each other will never take too many rounds.

Secondly, well, combat is dangerous and deadly, and if the PCs approach it without a plan, they’re gonna die, or at least get their asses kicked fast. Otherwise, well, I consider that a waste of the players’ time. If it was predetermined that the PCs would win otherwise the story can’t continue, well, what did we roll all those die, look up all those stats, and track all that HP for? Why didn’t we just describe the PCs winning and move on? Combat matters because it can change the outcome of the adventure, and if it can’t change the outcome, why are you rolling dice? Of course with death being so possible, to keep it fun, we gotta include lots of “tools” like cover, positioning, different weapons, special melee attacks, etc. that the PCs can use cleverly to give themselves an edge, and *earn* their survival.

Oh and also yeah can’t wait to hear what you think about the monsters. Funny thing about that, everyone who has read the rulebook knows that monsters and other supernatural creatures are supposed to be really rare, like one supernatural person for every 3,000,000 normal people kinda rare, but, monsters are super cool and fun to play, and are one of the big draws of the system, so we were kinda worried that that rarity wouldn’t come through in play, everyone would just be monsters. We considered setting a limit on how many monsters can be in a party? But quickly decided against it, because then players would have to compete for the limited monster slots, and people might even feel like if they’re not filling in that slot every single adventure, they’re missing an opportunity, and so every party would max out their monster limit every time and there’d, again, be way too many monsters.

In practice, though, most parties in Eureka seem to be comprised of all normal people, or all normal people and 1 monster at most, even without the limit. And I suspect this is both because monsters are kinda difficult to play despite their immense power, and, just to brag, because we made the normal PCs fun has hell to play too. :)

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dvrylgal · 8 days ago

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⋆༺𓆩 kehetu: chapter six 𓆪༻⋆

synopsis: you and daryl take some time to get to know each other while searching for sophia... and you both are quick to realize that the other isn't exactly all bad

cw: canon typical violence, gore, profanity, mature themes, cannibalism (zombies), zombies (obviously), racism (Merle), reader is black, reader is from jersey, reader is a mechanic, reader was raised native (ish), reader's a bit of an atheist

"So..." Daryl started, tightly gripping his crossbow as you both led the pack through the woods. "There any reason why you some sort of G.I. Jane?"

Confused, you cocked a brow, turning to him.

"'Scuse me?"

But he doubled down.

"You," he emphasized, plainly. "You got a city accent... but ye move like ye been raised out 'ere."

He sized you up, expectantly.

"I wanna know why."

You sighed, glancing around at the trees.

After leaving Dale and T-Dog behind to watch the RV, the group set off to widen the search.

You all managed to come across an empty, chiming church—save for a few walkers—and a graveyard in your travels; but no Sophia.

Just to be sure, Rick, Shane, and Carl hung back at the church to see if Sophia would come to the noise, while you and Daryl ushered the others forward to continue.

Which led you to this surprisingly normal conversation.

"I grew up in Jersey," you started with a grunt, stepping over a large log. "Spent my younger years runnin' amok... till I got shipped off to reform school in Georgia."

Using your hunting knife, you cut away some brush, slashing and slicing away some of the thinner branches.

"Made it 'bout a year before they kicked me out... and by then my folks wanted nothin' to do with me," you chuckled, dryly. "So I ran... hid from Social Services until I stumbled across a man."

Daryl raised a brow.

"A man?"

You nodded.

"Kehetu... native guy, Comanche..." you smiled, thoughtfully. "He took me in... brought me back to his cabin... raised me in the Georgia wilderness."

Daryl chuckled, things finally starting to click.

"'Splains all the yellin'," he nodded, glancing down at the ground.

"War whoop," you corrected, a small smirk rising to your lips. "Calls on strength."

"An' makes yer enemy shit their pants."

You snorted, shoulders bobbing with laughter.

"Yeah... that, too."

Deciding to take a page out of your book, he whipped out his knife as well, swiping at the overgrown leaves.

"But what was he doin' all the way over here?" he asked. "Thought all the Indians lived out west or sum?"

You shrugged, quickly scanning over another possible trail.

"He never told me," you answered, plainly. "Mentioned once that he had family in Oklahoma... but didn't get much into it... think it was a sore spot for 'im."

Pausing a moment, you turned to him, scolding.

"And it's Native-American, man."

"Native... Indian... same difference."

"It really isn't."

"What? Ye talkin' bout the lil' guys wit' the dots on their heads?"

"Please... stop talkin'."

"M'just sayin'..."

Just then, Andrea grabbed Carol's hand, comfortingly.

"We're all hoping and praying with you... for what it's worth," she assured.

Daryl scoffed, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"I'll tell you what it's worth," he sucked his teeth. "Not a damn thing."

"Dixon," you hissed, not wanting him to make it worse.

"It's a waste of time—all this hopin' and prayin'," he pressed on, not a doubt in his mind. "'Cause we're gonna locate that little girl. And she's gonna be just fine."

Quickly, his eyes scanned over everyone's face, huffing out another scoff.

"Am I the only one zen around here? ...Good Lord."

Turning around, he trudged back to the front, and you leveled Carol with a comforting look before following him.

He may be a little rough around the edges... but he was sweet.

In his own feral, Daryl-esque way.

He was plenty assuring and supportive when it counted, this—along with his words from last night—forcing you to really think on and reevaluate your previous judgement of him.

'Maybe there's hope after all...'

"How much farther?" Lori asked, picking up next to you.

"Not much. Maybe a hundred... hundred ten yards," you shrugged, slicing up a spider web.

"As the crow flies," Daryl added.

Andrea groaned, trailing a little ways behind, "Too bad we're not crows."

With the sun getting ready to set, you and Daryl thought it best to get the others back to camp; give them some rest before starting back up tomorrow.

Given how low morale was getting, you both figured it would do more harm than good continuing on from there.

But, of course, if it wasn't one thing... it was another.

Out of nowhere, Andrea let out a blood-curdling scream, making the lot of you nearly jump out your skin.

"Andrea?!" Lori panicked.

Whipping around, you turned to see the she was being pressed by a walker, her stabs to its chest doing nothing as it managed to get her down on the ground.

You were moving before you could think.

Sprinting, you ran toward her, the others close in tow.

Besides the walker's snarls, you also heard a faint something beating against the ground from not too far away.

Like hooves...

Shaking your head, you focused up, drawing your tomahawk before winding up your throw.

"RAH!"

You chucked it with as much force you could muster, sending it soaring through the air with a sharp whoosh before punctuating the walker with a sick splat!

"Holy shit," Daryl marveled, wide eyed.

He'd be a bold-faced liar if he said he didn't find that hot... as fuck...

Andrea whimpered as she frantically crawled away, watching as the walker fell limply on the ground, dead.

"Lori?! Lori Grimes?!" a mystery woman exclaimed, suddenly riding over on her horse.

'What the fuck?'

"Whoa. I'm Lori," Lori stepped forward, confused.

"Rick sent me! You've gotta come now!"

"What?"

"There's been an accident. Carl's been shot," the woman elaborated. "He's still alive but you've gotta come now!"

Shocked, Lori stood there for a moment, utterly dumbfounded.

"Rick needs you! Just come!"

Shrugging off her back, Lori dropped it on the ground, stepping forward to join her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! We don't know this girl!" Daryl exclaimed, incredulously. "You can't get on that horse!"

"Rick said you had others on that highway, that big traffic snarl?" the woman asked, turning to the rest of you as Lori mounted.

"Uh-huh," Glenn nodded, dazed.

"Backtrack to Fairburn Road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox. Name's Greene. Hyah!"

And just like that, she was gone, riding off with one of your own and leaving the rest of you standing in the clearing, clueless.

'...What the hell just happened?'

"I won't do it," Carol denied, shaking her head. "We can't just leave."

"Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak," Dale sighed, leaning against the door of the RV.

"What if she comes back? And we're not here? ...It could happen."

"If Sophia found her way back and we were gone... that would be awful," Andrea agreed.

Nodding, Daryl rested his hands on his hips.

"Okay... we gotta plan for this," he started. "I say tomorrow mornin's soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign. Leave her some supplies."

Glancing toward the others, he scratched the back of his neck.

"I'll hold here tonight, stay with the R.V."

"If the R.V's staying, I am, too," Dale stated.

"Thank you... Thank you both," Carol smiled, softly.

Turning to you, Daryl quirked a brow, somehow already knowing your answer.

"I'm in," you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Well, if you're all staying, then I'm—"

"Not you, Glenn. You're going," Dale denied before he could even finish. "Take Carol's Cherokee."

"Me?" he scoffed, annoyed. "Why is it always me?"

"You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people, and see what's going on. But most important, you have to get T-Dog there."

Pausing, you all turned to the man, who was hunched over off to the side, covered in a thick blanket.

"This is not an option. That cut had gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection... Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics because if not... T-Dog will die. No joke."

Just then, Daryl turned around, sauntering over to his bike and tugging off a greasy towel, before rummaging through his side bag.

Out of it, he yanked a plastic baggie full of medical-grade pills of varying caliber.

"Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle," he ordered, shooting Dale a sharp look before plopping the bag down on the hood of a nearby car. "Why'd you wait til now to say anythin'? I got my brother's stash."

You scoffed, both amused and disbelieving.

Of course Merle had a secret stash of pills just lying around.

"Crystal... X, don't need that... some kick-ass painkillers... Oxycycline."

He tossed the bottle to Dale, plainly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class."

He picked up the baggie, moving to put it back with his things.

"Merle got the Clap on occasion."

"You really think we're gonna find Sophia?" you asked, lowly, as you stepped around a tree root, gaze trained on the ground.

That night, Daryl had agreed to go searching the nearby woods with you, hoping to find that Sophia had managed to wander her way back.

But so far, you were coming up empty.

Turning to you, Daryl flashed the light in your face, disbelieving.

"You got that look on your face... same as everybody else," he stated. "Hell's wrong with you people? We just started lookin'."

"Yeah, and things already ain't lookin' so hot."

"It ain't the mountains of Tibet, it's Georgia," he scoffed. "She could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere... People get lost and they survive. It happens all the time."

"She's a twelve year old girl," you emphasized.

"Hell, I was younger than her an' I got lost. Nine days in the woods eatin' berries, wipin' my ass with poison oak."

'Christ...'

"They found you?"

He shook his head.

"My old man was out on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doin' another stint in juvie... didn't even know I was gone.

He shrugged, glancing down at the ground.

"Made my way back, though. Went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear... 'cept my ass itched somethin' awful."

You snorted, but quickly covered it up, guilt sinking into your chest.

"M'sorry," you apologized, lightly chuckling. "That's bad."

But he laughed along with, letting out a small sigh.

"Only difference is Sophia's got people lookin' for her... I call that an advantage."

Just then, a rustle sounded off not too far away, snatching both of your attention.

Without hesitation, you both readied your weapons, you drawing an arrow and Daryl taking aim with his crossbow.

Like a well-oiled machine, you both went back to back, not having to say a word as you both descended toward the disturbance, heading down the small decline.

Daryl scanned his flashlight over everything—the brush, the canopy, the roots—before he turned the corner, setting his sights on something hanging from a nearby tree.

"What the hell?"

Brows furrowed, you came out from behind him, only to find a snarling, chubby walker dangling from a branch.

"Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit," he read the note stuck to the creature's chest, squinting in the darkness.

"How poetic," you remarked, sarcastically.

"Dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head. Turned himself into a big, swingin' piece of bait... an' a mess."

"Probably ran outta ammo," you suggested, shifting your weight on your hips as you turned to walk toward a tree, drawing your tomahawk.

"I guess this is the closest he's been to food since he turned," Daryl continued, staring up at the thing. "Look at 'im. Hangin' there like a big piñata."

"You're real sick, y'know that?" you grimaced, chopping down a nice, long vine.

Moving his flashlight, he shined it on the walker's lower half, which was nothing but bone.

"The other geeks came and ate the flesh off his legs."

"TMI, Dixon..."

"Call it payback for laughin' 'bout my itchy ass."

"You were laughin', too."

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon," he chuckled, turning to you. "Les' head back."

"You're not gonna shoot it?" you asked, wrapping the vine around the handle of your tomahawk few times before tying off a knot.

"Nah. He ain't hurtin' nobody," Daryl shook his head. "Ain't gonna waste an arrow either."

"I can make you more."

"These are my metal ones," he denied, flashing his quiver. "He made his choice... opted out. Let 'im hang."

Starting off back the way you came, Daryl trudged past you, but you continued forward, approaching the trapped creature.

Stopping in his tracks, Daryl turned around, sizing you up with a raised brow.

Adjusting your grip on the handle, you gave yourself some slack on the vine, tucking your mini-flashlight in your mouth and aiming up at the walker.

It snarled and gnashed his teeth under the shine, swiping its arms in an attempt to grab you.

'Easy... it'll be over soon...'

Winding up, you swirled the tomahawk in your grasp before throwing it like you did earlier.

And it was a direct hit.

Instantly, the walker was put down, your ax sticking out of its half caved-in head as it finally fell limp.

Shifting slightly, you grabbed onto the vine, gripping it tight before giving a harsh tug, snatching your tomahawk back and catching it.

Grinning, you turned around with a satisfied air, only to find Daryl staring at you with a look you'd never seen before.

You were something else...

"What?" you asked, scrunching your nose in confusion.

But he shook his head, biting back a smile as he turned around.

"Nothin'... les' get back to camp."

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #dvrylgal #the walking dead x reader #twd #twd x reder #horror

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matchesarelit · 11 months ago

Text

Imagine If You Will... Just Us (Lars Pinfield X gn!Reader)

Prompts: “I thought it was going to be just us today” from @pookie-and-cereal's list (here) AND #17, #28 and #30 from @thelonelyempath's list (here).

W.C: ~3k

Warnings: Gary gets typical 3rd wheel treatment, science flirting (it's real bad),

Coming back from Ray's, your arms were killing, turns out hiking over an hour over public transport with more than ten kilos of, for a lack of a better word, junk, was not the brightest idea. Lars had texted you late last night, gushing over the newest adaptions he'd make to the extractor; how much time was saved on every use, how low the resistance rate was etc.

So naturally, when he invited you to come in on the weekend to try it out, your reply could have broken the sound barrier, if it weren't a text that is. You weren't exactly in his realm in regards to ghostbusting science, now don't get me wrong you did ghost bust on occasion, but your main focus was on the PR end of Ghost Corps. Yes, it is a very stressful job. That being so, you weren't sure why he'd chosen to invite you, surely another scientist would be able to understand it better.

Well, who truly cares... you were getting the rare chance to witness his dorky joy and that was not something you were going to turn down.

Finally trudging in through the main doors, you let out a grievous grunt as you dropped the box of trinkets onto a nearby trolley. Tugging it along behind you as you made your way to the main lab, you waved as you always did towards the enclosed ghosts in the hallway. Finally setting sights on the elaborate workspaces of the many scientists that work crammed into the space, you allowed your smile to overtake your features, eager as always to see Lars in his natural environment.

You'd first met when you stated on the G.C PR team, you'd been eager to set up a web page for the Ghostbusters with a page profile for all involved scientists. Winston had had you meet them all here in the lab, Lars was one of the first you'd met and you'd gotten along immediately.

"Heyo! I think you're gonna have to send Ray a gift basket with the amount of stuff he gave us-" Your rattled-out greeting was cut short as your eyes fell on the pair of men huddled by one of the desks. As they turned to greet you, you felt your steps slow, the air felt dense against your movements. Lars had forced out a smile that had no hopes of reaching his eyes, while the man by his side, Gary Grooberson, seemed to be dripping in ecstatic energy as he jogged over to meet you by the steps.

As he lifted the front end of the trolley and helped you carry it down, your eyes fell back on Lars, he was once again facing away from you and he'd retreated to the large mechanical focus of your visit. His hands were busy doing, what even you could tell from across the room, was absolutely nothing.

Cutting your study short, Gary captured you in a hug, it was as it always is; warm and comforting and definitely more for him than it was for you. You had time and time again succeeded in putting a good spin on whatever ruckus his family had created, so he was by no means a new acquaintance, neither was his proclivity for hugs a surprise.

Gary's greeting however flew right past your ears, tearing your focus away from the man on the other side of the space was proving much too difficult. To your luck however, you managed a gentle greeting and casual inquiry of how his family was doing before a notable amount of time had passed.

With a conscious effort you set your eyes on Gary, resolved to focus on the conversation at hand, the man before you was a friend after all. As the conversation continued, small updates about how the Spenglers and co were doing outside of the ghost busts filled the next half hour, before the dialogue began to stall.

Until, Gary, ever the extrovert, started to rifle through the box you'd brought in,

'So, are you as excited for today as I am? It sounds like Lars has been making absolute leaps and bounds with this stuff.'

Now, you wouldn't say you were projecting your voice when you spoke up, nonetheless, it definitely wasn't a normal speaking level. 'Yeah! I can't wait to see what he's been up to...' You trailed off as you glanced towards where Lars still stood, his back to the two of you but his hands had now stilled in place, a change you all but reveled in.

Lars wasn't a guy who enjoyed being alone all to much, you'd been able to gather as such within moments of meeting him. Luckily, that first time, you'd caught him on a good day; when talking about his work, rather than doing it, was pretty much exactly what he wanted to do. He'd tried to come across as a sort of stoic and while it was clear he did enjoy the solitude, the way he interacted with his peers made it crystal clear how much he also enjoyed such conversations.

That was part of why his actions today seemed so strange... You weren't exactly his peer as a scientist, but you knew enough about ghosts and he'd shared similar achievements with you in the past, not to mention the fact that he, himself, had invited you here only last night.

As for Gary, he was a scientific man himself, so why the Lars wasn't chatting happily with him about the newest changes to the mechanism was a mystery to say the least.

You'd hate to admit it, although it wasn't hard to notice by any means, you'd obliviously thought it was just going to be the two of you. So it took some quick metal re-wiring upon realizing you wouldn't just be able to fawn so freely over the unsuspecting scientist as you often did.

In that moment you'd felt bad, noting that both of you were acting strange and that that couldn't have been too fun for Gary.

Although... you considered perhaps Lars was simply overthinking his progress, now that his audience was present. Maybe he just needed a little push to start, like one of those old timey planes.

'Lars' Your call cracked through the silence of the facility, your voice finally tugging the man in question to turn on the spot. 'Come on Science-man, show us what you've got!'

He shook his head slightly in a sort of incredulity as he turned back around, your shoulders fell slightly, but only momentarily as his voice soon bounced around the room.

'Come on then'

Your eager smile reappeared on your face as you beelined towards the large prism like container in the middle of the workplace, where he stood hitting, what you could only assume, were the start up buttons. Your eyes on him, and his eyes on the machine -with you safely in his peripherals- Gary was left to wheel over the box of supplies. His mumblings of something about third wheeling and losing his phone, all but faded to oblivion in your focus.

Stepping back from the small panel and towards yourself and Gary, Lars seemed to pause for a moment, glancing once between you and his chair that sat empty by the control screen. You brushed off the look he'd given as he began to speak, as a mutual offer between him, yourself and Gary, You'd chosen consciously however, to not plop down in it yourself.

Strangely, claiming his seat whenever he stood from it, felt like something you could only do in private, although it usually occurred when ten or so other scientists also occupied the space. You suppose, sitting there; your head in your hand, as you gawk up at him was a lot more obvious when the only other person in the room would be standing mere feet away.

Whilst you turned your own thoughts over in your head, Gary had taken the chair for himself, muttering out a cheeky, 'ya snooze ya lose'. While you were still mulling things over, Gary caught what you didn't; a flash of a glare passing over Lars' features as he paused his explanation.

Choosing to remain comfy, Gary shot the younger scientist a simple smile, before tilting his head in your direction. With one look to you, your in-your-head state was obvious and Lars was talking a step towards you, your name a whisper on his lips.

Snapping out of your thoughts, and meeting his eyes, you immediately rushed out an apology running shaky hands down your face as you promised to listen closely.

From there it was somewhat business as usual, Lars went about explaining his changes, with yourself, and Gary, asking prompting questions every once and a while. You'd resolved to simply enjoy his company as you usually would, extra company be damned. Sorry Gary.

Gaping up at him in the way you always did, you were yet again in awe of Lars. The way his eyes shone a little brighter when the machine worked perfectly and how he would always look eagerly to you a soft smile on his face. Ghost by ghoul, the three of you went about testing for a while, with Lars occasionally ducking his head towards the wiring or control panel to make some small adjustment, only to return with a beaming smile when the following test went by even faster.

Watching him work was always enjoyable. He was always either grinning like a fool or he had that small frown and furrowed brow that graced his features in a moment, usually quite brief, of struggle. All the same, even that echo of a scowl wasn't enough to diminish the glow you swore he gave off. Today was slightly different, there was no lab coat in sight, his goggles hung loosely around his neck and the top half of his jumpsuit had been tied 'round his waist. He seemed relaxed, at least if you ignored the tension that seemed to be holding his body together.

'Amazing' your murmured comment, and the countless like it, were more about him than his machine and whenever you caught his eyes with your own, you hoped he could see that. Gary, on the other hand was completely enthralled by the testing, rattling off compliments of his own with much higher frequency, mentions of the 'stellar efficiency' and 'innovative programming' which, I'm sad to say, went in one ear and out the other. Except, for when he managed to interrupt you in the midst of his enthusiasm, at which point he was met with yet another brief glare from the man of the hour.

The setting sun that bathed the three of you in warm tones of orange and yellow took you by surprise, and a quick glace to the box by your side revealed you had powered through more than three quarters of your supplies. You felt your shoulders fall considerably at this thought, now achingly aware you'd be expected to leave somewhat soon. Shocking you from your melancholy was the loud ring of Lars' phone, some 8-bit version of the Ghostbusters theme you'd set up on his phone some time ago, echoing about the space.

He hurriedly excused himself, and unwitting as usual your eyes lingered on the doorway he'd left through. Until a clambering of legs swung into your own, following them with an eyebrow raised you met Gary's stare as his own eyebrows wiggled fancifully. 'Soooo... I'm gonna get going, Callie just texted-' Catching him in a squinted glare you doubted '-didn't you say you'd lost your phone?'

'um-uh, okay so I'm just a little aware that you guys want to be alone.' His tone was anything but unsure, nevertheless he seemed hesitant to voice his concern.

'No don't go, I'm sorry I-I know I get a bit absorbed seeing him work, but he wants you here!' You'd felt horrible, you weren't aware how obvious you'd been.

'Its okay, I know you didn't mean to... Also I highly doubt Lars is all that happy about me being here.' You opened your mouth to argue but he shook his head simply as he continued. 'Winston invited me after Lars let him know he'd be here today, He didn't know until I got here and that half an hour before you arrived was tense enough.'

You supposed he was right, Lars had seemed pretty off earlier, but surely it wasn't that deep that Gary should leave. 'That's silly though, you're a scientist, if anyone is annoying him by hanging around surely its me... I mean I was asking all those inane questions.'

Your concern was met with the most well meaning, yet still a bit of a brush-off, cackle you'd heard from him, 'Except every one was met with a soft explanation and a confirmation that you understood, which wasn't exactly the response I've been getting. I doubt today was meant to be about the science as anything more than as a justification for inviting you over.'

Your brow furrowed at that, yourself and Lars had hung out before, you supposed it wasn't too frequently and it was usually a work outing where the two of you peeled off for a bit. Even so, why would he feel like he had to justify inviting you over?

'But we're friends, he knows he doesn't have to-' you stopped yourself as his footsteps reverberated through the halls, growing closer by the second.

Mid-way through turning your head to catch the doorway, Gary darted out of his chair. Stealing back your attention as he addressed yourself and you supposed lars, who you could imagine had stopped, lingering at the end of the hall at the other man's outburst. 'I've gotta get going, great seeing you guys... Good luck with the rest of the testing...' He was backing away now, towards the entryway, maneuvering around stray chairs and tables as he went. With a final flourish of a finger gun in Lars' direction, he was crossing the threshold and calling back over his shoulder. '...Not that you need it!'

You found yourself scoffing in disbelief as you continued to watch as the doors swung closed with a slam. Slowly turning on the spot you set sights on Lars. He was making his way over to you, shoulders still higher than usual, tight due to, as far as you could ascertain, the dramatic exit of the older man. Reaching out, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. As the slight weight of your hand settled on him you noted the relaxed fall of his shoulders, a sigh falling from his lips. Content with the slight ease in his demeanor you gave a slight squeeze and a hum of your own.

'So, should we get back to it?' Lars nodded, but otherwise remained completely still until you elected to remove your hand, at which point he spun on the spot and traipsed back over to the machine with a vigor that'd been notably absent all day.

Narrowing your eyes at the man in front of you, you watched as he returned to his regular As Seen On TV type demonstration. Now, with a pep in his step that you always found almost too intoxicating he placed a new object inside the chamber, closed it and started towards the computer.

'Hey, Lars? Can you level with me on something?' you hated to see how his movements stuttered to a halt at your vague interruption, but the question fell from your lips before you could think, 'Do you not like Gary?' His gaze seemed to flutter about the space, until his eyes were screwed shut, a shaky hand messing through his locks as his jaw dropped open, dancing silently in the nonexistent wind until you fixed him with pointed look and he suddenly found some words.

'I don't dislike him he's just very- He's smart it's just- its just that...' he trailed off, seemingly deciding to communicate through a jumpscare like gesture of his hands.

'He's very eager?' he nodded, glad you gotten his meaning, but he stilled when your head tilted ever so slightly.

'So am I.' With that thought your eyes had drifted from his, not shyly to the ground but dazed, as if fixed on some invisible specter only you could see. Your mind grew harsh faster than you'd care to admit, retroactively scanning every interaction with him against some intangible measure of frustration. There were surely times your presence slowed his work, distracting him with conversation or absurd what if's, not to mention the plethora of what you now realized must have been idiotic questions.

Surely he'd been speaking while you re-considered your very existence, but it wasn't until you felt the warmth of his hands on your shoulders that an ounce of sound managed to reach your brain.

'Hey, you okay there? You-you went blank on me.'

'I-um yeah -I just...' You had no clue what to say, how could you? Yeah sorry I was just thinking about how insufferable I must be to you, that came with a little spiraling as a treat.

Gathering that you'd most likely missed his in depth explanation of the difference between yourself and Gary from his perspective, Lars stepped away from you, considering the best way to dissolve the tension evident on your features. 'You and I, Us, we're not just colleagues, you don't just come to me to get new gadgets or answer some question you have... even if you do have a few. We're... something else, but when he's here its like he's extracting facts and figures, all the while you're just trying to understand me, m-my work. Its not his fault I- just I-'

'-Thought it was going to be just us today?' Cutting off his rambling you finally met his eyes. He shrugged nodding slightly as he held your gaze. 'If it makes it better?.. it is now.'

He released a bemused hmmf. 'I'll admit I wasn't the biggest fan of having to fight for your attention today. I'm pretty glad it is just the two of us again. Splitting your focus between me and my work is as much as I can handle.' Shaking your head in amusement at his sudden bluntness, you stepped towards him, a gentle hand against his chest, the eye contact mere inches long as you stood in his orbit.

'You are so oblivious... Trust me Lars there was not a moment that you weren't the nucleus of my afternoon.' A light groan was his only response to your overy-cheesy claim. 'No? what about...' you thought for a moment, tapping a finger to your chin.

'I'm much too weak to resist the gravity of your presence.' he narrowed his eyes at you own, looking for something you couldn't distinguish.

'Is that why you're in so close? My pull is too strong?' He didn't bother to cover the roll of his eyes or the teasing tone in his voice, but the smile that was paired with them was comfort enough to keep you talking.

'Mhmm You're just too enthralling Pinfield, you're gonna have to work on that if you want other people to be able to stand being around us'

Amidst all his scoffing and modest smiling, the blush that spung up across his cheeks was a sight for sore eyes, as his head lowered and he whispered into the paper thin space between you his tone even and resolute;

'Who says I'd ever want that?'

#lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #ghostbusters frozen empire #gbfe #ghostbusters

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pianokantzart · 6 months ago

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I am very hyped for BrotherShip, and you seem like someone who is also hyped. Please vent about everything we know so far, so I can live vicariously through your rant.

Uuuh jeeze where do I begin.

Love how hard they're going with the "brotherly bonds" angle. I don't think I've seen a game synopsis that focused this hard on the bond they have. Then there's fact that their physical touch seems to literally generate some sort of interdimensional power!?

How? Why? What's going on? I want to know. I want to know so bad. The world they get teleported to is called "Concordia," which means harmony/agreement. There's also the fact that the aesthetic theme of the game is centered around electricity, so maybe all powers revolve around flow/connection, which would be in line with introducing a mystical power generated by the brothers' emotional bond.

Speaking of electricity! I've seen these goons for five seconds and I am intrigued:

It looks like they're going to be reoccurring foes. And while the allies are plug/socket themed, these three enemies are wire/plug themed. The purple guy at the front has a stereo plug for his hair piece and a jack for his hand, and their hands are designed based off of fork spade wire connector.

So I'm going with a theory that the friendly residents are generators/guardians of a strong source of magical energy, while the Extension Corps and their affiliates are out to harness/steal that energy.

Then there's who I'm presuming to be the big bad in this game:

He was in the trailer for half a second, so I assume Nintendo is trying to keep him mysterious for now, but from the little I saw of his design two things stuck out to me: He's equipped with what looks to be a stylized pair of electrician pliers, and his hat has a green and red wire sticking out of the top.

So THAT doesn't bode well

Bowser's going to be there too, but I'm not yet sure if he's going to be a hesitant ally, a small-scale villain, or a final boss who takes advantage of the new villain's failures like in Mario & Luigi Dream Team. At this point it could be anything.

I DO like that Princess Peach is having more of an active role! In the past few Mario & Luigi games she's either been captured to move the plot forward (as is tradition), or has been quietly pulling strings from the sidelines to help out, but it'll be fun seeing her running around and exploring with her own group of misfits.

Also!!! The Luigi "L!"!

My main theory is that, every so often, Luigi is going to come up with a new mechanic depending on what we've encountered over the course of the story, and these new mechanics will be used to overcome obstacles and get into secret areas.

Then there's the central hub world!!! Of all the Mario RPGs I've played (two of them) that's usually my favorite aspect: having a main area where you can hoard all the random nonsense you've stumbled across and get a few extra perks. Looks like we're going to have that same thing here, and they aren't going slouch on the "exploration" angle of this game

I'll stop now, but I've got one last quick theory I'm gonna scream about: Apparently "electrical bonding" is the process of connecting multiple conductive components that are not intended to carry a current to a grounding system, so that if something goes wrong (like an electrical surge or a lightning strike) there's a lower risk of someone getting electrocuted.

So maybe Mario and Luigi are NOT meant to be conduits of this sort of bond-power, but they're unwittingly connected to it in order to prevent tragedy and create stability? (I may be looking into it too closely. I am not an electrician, but that's my theory until I see evidence suggesting otherwise.)

#inhumanbeing #askbox #this has been in my drafts for a hot second #but seeing as there's a new Nintendo Direct tomorrow I figured now was the time to jump the gun and see if I get proven wrong anywhere #mario and luigi brothership #long post

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solacescastleglow · 20 days ago

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You're Not Lazy, You're: A Daydreamer

So, you're addicted to daydreaming, to the point where you're putting aside important real life things in favour of talking to yourself. You're sitting there, watching life pass you by, desperately trying to fill the void with people you made up in your head. Your outer life is starting to look less and less like how you thought it would be, and the worst part is, there's nothing and no one to blame.

I've been there. In fact, when I was 12, it was so bad I literally didn't care at all about my family, I had no friends, and my grades were abysmal, but I was convinced I would be fine because 'at least I have my mind'. What I didn't realise was that I had lost control of even that. Now I still daydream, but I've become much more able to cope, and I can work around it to the point it no longer affects my day-to-day life. What was maladaptive daydreaming has become immersive daydreaming. If you're in the same situation, here are a few tips to get out of that hole for good.

(Remember, this is much easier said than done, so don't feel bad if this doesn't start helping right away. Also, this is not a substitute for therapy.)

Less daydreaming

1. Eliminating the need

I'm gonna be honest, this is the hardest part. Your daydreaming came about for a reason; it's kept you alive and safe for all this time. Daydreaming is a coping mechanism. The problem comes when it becomes your only or primary coping mechanism, and your comfort zone becomes so small that you're using it all the time. Start with the negative things in your life that caused you to start daydreaming. What are they? How can they be mitigated or resolved? What are some other coping tools you can use to get through them? For me, a big part of the reason was unchangeable (untreatable illness), but some of it could have something done about it. I started medication for my mental health, switched schools, went to therapy. Am I cured? No. Did it take a long time? Yes. But was it worth it? Absolutely.

2. Attention span and comfort zone work

Now that your negative situation is ameliorated, it's time to work on getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. When you don't daydream after a certain amount of time or coming across a trigger, you start to get restless and irritable. You're, unfortunately, just going to have to sit in that emotion for a little bit. Just 5 minutes. If the trigger is media or a conversation topic, try your absolute hardest not to let your mind wander. After that 5 minutes or when the conversation is over, you can excuse yourself to go daydream. Doing this repeatedly will slowly make your brain able to go longer between daydreaming sessions, which means you can function better in your outer life.

3. Don't limit daydreaming, expand your outer life

If you're anything like me, the thought of stopping completely makes you panic. This isn't a great sign overall, but if you feel terrible whenever you don't escape, it disincentivises you from living your life. Instead, start surrounding yourself with people: spending every evening with your housemates, having an accountability partner for work, going on walks in public. The self consciousness alone is usually enough for me to not daydream, so basically I'm just giving myself less time to drift off. Bonus points if it's an activity that gets you where you want or need to go.

4. Grounding

I know, I know. It's uncomfortable when you know that's what you're doing. I personally hate the 54321 method. But you know what does work for me? This one TikTok (I can't find it) where the lady in the video tells you to look at the corner of the screen and tell what time it is, then asks questions like 'what's to the left of the screen?' and 'what are you wearing?' That snaps me right back to the present. The moment you notice yourself drifting off, look at a clock. Then look down at what you're wearing. Then take a second to describe what you're seeing to yourself and do some kind of tactile stimulation (rubbing your hands together or tapping your lap, for example).

More doing

1. Life direction audit

Your daydreams are clues to what you want out of life. Use them to guide how you want your outer life to go:

How does daydreaming make you feel? How can you emulate that without daydreaming?

Related to your daydream self's career, how does it make you feel to think of yourself getting paid to do that in your outer life? What steps can you take to get yourself there, or closer to it?

What can you do to cultivate friendships that are meaningful to you on the same level as your daydream friends? If you have outer friends, what's the most realistic scenario that would play out if you said, "I need more (support/connection/in-person time) out of this relationship"?

Are there any significant personal differences between your daydream self and your outer self? Are you a different gender, do you have a different style of dress, do you have any skills or hobbies you don't actually have? Is there anything that you would do, if only you had the [time/money/energy/certainty that this is the right thing to do/ability to get through hard things]?

Based on what you've written down, make a 10 year plan, then from that a 5 year plan, then from that a 1 year plan. Once you have your yearly plan you have options: split it up into quarters, months, weeks, or some other way. Either way, eventually you'll want to get it down to what you can do on a daily or even hourly basis to make your daydream self your reality.

2. Do it daydreaming, but do it

Now, do it. Sounds way easier than it is, but when I say do it, I mean do it any way you can. Do it upset, complaining, bored, frustrated, scared, badly, adapted to fit your abilities, in a way other people think is weird, crying the whole time, late, embarrassed, inconsistently, from your bed. Do it partway, then decide you want something else out of life. Do it when it's easy, and if you really want it, do it when it's hardest. Do something similar to it if what you want is unattainable. You can even do it with one foot in your daydream world.

As long as you're trying to do what makes you happy (and I mean the real kind of happy, not the kind that's always tinged with the grief that it's all in your head), any amount of effort you put into it is worthwhile.

3. Incentives

I was going to say to follow your plan and not your mood, but that's really hard. What you need is to find a way to make yourself follow that plan happily. For me, that's setting difficult monthly challenges for myself and getting rewards if I complete them. The challenge makes me want to do it because I want to prove my inner critic wrong. Do whatever works for you, because even if it sounds silly, it's not silly if it works.

4. Check ins

Every so often, re-evaluate where you're going. I know I just said to do it bored and frustrated, but if the whole thing is boring and frustrating and there are no upsides, don't keep at it. Check that you're actually happy with the direction your life is going.

---

And that's all I have for you. Remember, daydreaming can still be a healthy part of your life, it's the inability to stop it that's the problem. You can learn to balance it. I believe in you.

#you're not lazy #maladaptive daydreaming #actually maladaptive #maladaptive daydreamer #madd #actually madd #productivity #that girl #it girl #girlblogging #hell is a teenage girl #girl rotting #bed rotting #op

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mermaidgirl30 · 7 months ago

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✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 2: Watch Me✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the lovely @alltheirdamn for beta reading and screaming about them with me 🥰

Summary: While all the other girls gush over Coach Miller, Madison can’t stand him. And when her turn comes on the vault, she gets a little carried away.

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: 18+ only

Tags: Lots of banter, arguing to flirting, dual POV

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The next day is barely tolerable as I stand with my arms crossed firmly against my chest, my right hip cocked out to the side. I let the cool breeze from the vents take the bitter sting away that rushes like a raging waterfall through my sore joints.

The slick purple leotard clings to my tanned, burning skin, and my tight blonde ponytail feels like it’s creating an incurable migraine at the back of my skull. I roll my eyes with every insufferable breath Joel breathes, not even caring if he sees how his droning voice affects my sour mood.

He’s not my coach. He will never be my coach.

“Listen up, girls,” Joel yells across the room, standing in the middle of the blue mat with a clipboard in one hand and a black ink pen in the other. “I’m gonna have each of you go through your uneven bar and vault routines. We have a lot of cover to ground before regionals, and it’s not that far off.”

Unbelievable. If he really knew me, he’d know those were my two strongest routines. It’s my floor and balance beam routine that’ve been kicking my ass lately, and I just can’t stick my landings like I need to to qualify for nationals. And the double back salto? Well, that’s another beast entirely that I can’t quite grasp. Coach Carr would know that, but she apparently didn’t include Joel in that conversation.

Go fucking figure.

How the fuck am I supposed to make it without her by my side?

Katelyn raises her hand and practically whips it around with no control.

Eager much?

“Coach Miller, can I go first? I’d love your help with my dismount.” She bats her long lashes, her icy blue eyes practically shining like stars in the night sky, and it makes me want to vomit.

“Sure thing, Katelyn. Jus’ head on over to the vault. I’ll be right there,” he assures her, tucking his plastic clipboard under his arm.

When he turns to head to the back of the room where the long runway and vault lay, I watch the way his broad shoulders flex against the black t-shirt, and I feel sick when he pushes his long fingers through his tousled curls. It irks me that he’s allowed to look that good. Even more so, flames radiate through my chest just thinking that this is his team now.

Nuh-uh. I won’t allow it. This isn’t his team. And I’ll make damn sure of it.

Coach Carr may have asked me to be nice, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her.

Katelyn shines her perfect smile and poses, saluting that she’s about to begin her routine. Joel nods from the corner of the room, standing a few feet from the vault, eyes locked while he waits and watches with bated breath. She wastes no time and takes off, feet striking the mat and running like her life depends on it.

I watch the way Joel carefully assesses her movements, ready to move at a moment’s notice if she falls. And I don’t know why, but it annoys the hell out of me. Probably because Katelyn is used to getting what she wants, and she wants Joel. She can have him for all I care. I don’t even want him here.

Katelyn completes her handspring double front and nearly eats the blue mat beneath her. Joel quickly steps in and catches her before her body crashes down, and I know she did it on purpose. She’s never messed up that move before. She’s putting on a fake show, and Joel’s her shiny new doll to mess around with.

“Whoa, slow it down there. You overturned your twist. Try to focus on your body mechanics next time. You’ll get it,�� he encourages with a light pat to her shoulder.

“Thanks for catching me, Coach. I’ll try again.” She turns away sweetly, walking all the way back to the end of the seafoam floor, swaying her curvy hips and flashing the sparkly sequins on her peach leotard.

“Oops, did I get a little too excited with that flip? Maybe I should do it again just so he’ll catch me.” She flips her highlighted hair and pushes past me, smacking straight into the side of my shoulder with enough force that it makes my stance unsteady.

Narrowing my eyes, I scowl at her and feel hot lava rising in every joint of my boiling body. I keep my mouth shut tight but only because she’s trying to get a rise out of me. And there’s no fucking way I’m getting heated over a bitch trying to steal a man I couldn’t be less interested in. She can have him. I just wish she'd leave me the hell alone.

Before I make any rash decisions and decide to turn and smack her straight across her lip gloss coated mouth, Cassie pulls me back to reality and gives me a concerned look. “Don’t mind her. You know she’s only jealous because Coach Miller took notice of you yesterday.”

I sigh and try to relax, uncrossing my arms and easing my mind of any unnecessary distractions. I’m here to practice, not to be involved in some petty drama I want no part in. “Yeah, you’re right. I just wish she’d stop, you know?”

“I know what you mean, but a bitch is a bitch no matter what. So just focus on the task at hand. You’re better than her at everything; that’s never going to change. Just do you, boo,” she smiles, giving me a friendly bump against the hip while her emerald eyes flash over mine.

“Thanks for doing this with me, Cas. I couldn’t do it alone,” I smile gently, squeezing her hand in mine as I silently thank her again for being an anchor in the cesspool of snakes.

“Always got your back, babe,” she finishes.

The rest of the squad finishes their turns and return to the navy blue colored spring floor, stretching and watching who’s left to do their routines. Suddenly, I realize I’m the last of the girls, and it’s now my turn to go. Picking my head up and gazing all the way down to the end of the mat lights my nerves on fire. Joel is staring at me, large hands on his hips, chocolate-covered eyes scorching mine even from feet away. It feels like a giant spotlight is shining down on me, signaling to act, but I can’t move. I’m paralyzed in time, and I want to run far far away from those deep brown eyes.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy. Show me what you got.” His deep voice echoes through the large room, booming through my eardrums like a loud bass, and I want to rip the noise from my rushing ears. His curled smirk and playful eyes make my skin boil and my toes tingle like I’m standing on sharp wires. I puff out a cloud of invisible smoke and clench my hands into tight fists.

He thinks I’m shy? That’s cute. I’m not the least bit shy. No. I’m a fierce tiger, and I’ll rip my sharp claws straight through that ridiculous smirk.

He gives me a teasing smile, and that does it. I snap. Sprinting as fast as I can down the solid floor, I throw all my raging emotions into my swift movements, letting my stinging feet barely hit the mat, blurring the whispering girls on the mat, only focusing on the vault in front of me.

Throwing my whole body into the roundoff back handspring, my feet catch the springboard for just a second and then I’m flipping defiantly over the smooth edges of the vault table. I chose the Amanar twist, the harder of my moves, wanting to show Joel just who the best is around here.

The air whips across my face, my body humming with every second I’m in the air, completing two-and-a-half twists as if this is as easy as walking a straight line on the balance beam. I stick the landing perfectly and salute, my arms stiff and graceful like I just wowed the judges. My hazel eyes slightly narrow when I see his doe eyes widen just a smidge, his mouth parted and a sickening smile curled up across his plush mouth like he’s in awe. I should smile back, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.

A low whistle leaves his lips and he applauds slowly. “Well, I’ll be damned. Nearly flawless, Shining Star.” I hear the snickering and whispers come from behind, but I block them out. The only thing I’m focused on is making Joel’s life a living hell.

I drop my stiff stance and cross my arms over my shimmery leotard. “I can go harder than that,” I challenge.

Joel’s eyebrows raise in attention, and his tongue slowly slides over his bottom lip like he’s closely assessing my movements. “Oh? You think you can land a triple twist?” The way his warm eyes stare into mine makes a hot fire light in my chest, and that fire is pure rage.

“I know I can.” I pop my hip out and slit my eyes into thin slots, letting him know I’m not playing games. But he wants to play. Oh, yes. He’s intrigued now. A devilish smirk widens over his mouth and his darkening eyes look like they could eat me alive.

Look what you fucking did.

“Yes,” I snarl out.

“That’s a pretty risky move there, sweetheart. You sure you can handle it?” He’s toying with me, edging me on to get under my skin, but it’s too late. He’s already there, prodding at my stings like a damn nuisance.

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” I spit with venom shooting across the room, hoping it’ll silence Joel’s taunting words.

So, he’s learned I like to play games. Well, I can play them better.

“You never heard of Southern hospitality, darlin’?” He accentuates the word darlin’, and the widest smirk I’ve ever seen in my life rests on his tanned face. One hand slowly rakes down his patchy scruff, and his eyes sharpen into mine. It makes me nearly stomp my heel into the gym mat to show how extremely irritating and impossible he’s being.

Sweetheart? Darlin’? Just what the hell is he trying to prove? That he’s charming? He wishes.

“Just stop with the Texas nicknames. I get it. You think you’re slick, but you’re not. And for your information, I can handle anything,” I snap, folding my arms back over my chest to show how much he’s driving my patience.

“Alright then. Show me,” he demands, flexing his thick arms tighter against the black material of his shirt, his eyes lit with playful fire. “Let me see you land a triple, and maybe I won’t make you repeat it a third time.”

I flare my nostrils and storm off, mouthing curse words under my breath like that’ll do any good. I forget that my teammates are gawking and staring at me like I just screamed blasphemy inside a holy temple. I ignore the bite of their stares and carry on. It’s just me and Joel right now for all I can see, and I need to teach him just who he’s dealing with.

My body hums with electricity, lightning guiding my every movement. Maybe I overestimated by trying to outsmart him, but there’s no backing out now. I’ve made my bed; now I have to sleep in it.

Joel’s wide smile flashes under the harsh lights, and his deep brown eyes that antagonize me have me ready to blow steam out of my ears. I decide right then that I hate him and his stupid tousled curls.

Why did Coach Carr leave me with him?

Putting my body into full drive mode, I crash like thunder down the mat, running as if I’m getting chased by a stampede of wildebeests. My body flips through the air, the back handspring pushing my muscles into overdrive, and then I jump. Hard.

I hold my breath like I’m underwater, body limbs curling and twisting in the air, and I focus on those three simple rotations I need. I start the count and then my vision blurs, closing my eyes so I can feel the intricate movements cycle through me. Still holding my breath, I count and pray that it’s enough.

One, two, three. My feet land shakily on the slippery mat, my head reeling at the intense motions, but I land it, fortunately.

Holy shit. I did it!

His jaw drops open, and I hear him mutter a curse under his breath, clearly impressed that I was telling the truth.

I flash him a generous smile and end it with a slight scowl. “Look at that, Coach,” I stammer, imitating his Texas drawl from earlier. “I landed a triple.”

He shakes his tousled curls and nods his head in disbelief. “So you did, Shining Star. So you did…” His eyes roam over my body, giving me a quick once over and again, he smiles.

“Told you I could,” I huff.

I stand there glaring, challenging him to a duel I just might lose, but I hold my ground steadily.

As I start to turn away, he stops me with his deep voice that tears through my unsettled mind. “Next time, don’t hold back the first time.”

My eyes slit like snake eyes, and my head whips back around to him. “I wasn’t holding back.”

“‘Course you weren’t, sweetheart. Keep bringing that heat to the floor,” he smirks, letting his shoulder brush against mine as he makes his way back to the rest of the squad.

“Hey,” I snap, making his head turn back around toward me. “Don’t pretend like you know me.”

He arches an eyebrow and challenges me with his gravelly tone. “Oh, I think I already got a good readin’ on you. Yeah, think I got you figured out jus’ fine,” he chuckles, flicking his dark eyes once more over mine.

I scoff and dig my heel hard into the mat. “If you really knew me, you’d know that my floor and balance beam routines need the most work. My vault routine is near perfect. But apparently, you don’t know me at all.”

He lifts an eyebrow quizzically, letting the gears grind in his jumbled head like he’s trying to figure me out, but I don’t give him the chance. I storm off toward the uneven bars and wait with my arms crossed over my chest, fuming, just wanting to get this day over with. And I feel his eyes burn hot like a match running painfully slow through my body.

I’ll show him I’m not a pretty, dainty flower. I’m a tiger, and I’m out for blood. His blood.

Joel’s POV

The laptop screen flickers on, the Google tab already pulled up in front of my face. Using the smooth black mouse to control my thick fingers, YouTube is the link I pull up first. I quickly type out the name Madison Summers and instantly, dozens of gymnastics videos pop up on the glowing screen. Clicking on the first one, the video comes to life like a movie.

It’s last year’s fall competition in Orlando, Florida. The floor routine. The one she said needed to work on.

Sitting back comfortably into the leather office chair with my legs splayed wide, thumb tapping against the mahogany table, I scan and assess like I’m just a viewer in the audience.

The crowd goes wild when her name is called, chanting her name and clapping like a wave of thunder. She doesn’t even flinch, her hazel eyes bright and alight with a hint of confidence glowing in the fluorescent lights that shine down on her. And when the music comes to life, so does she.

She takes to the floor like a graceful swan, her movements as smooth as butter. She has an essence about her that screams confidence, her pretty eyes sharp and narrowed each time she flips or performs a split jump.

I let my fingertips scratch down my patchy scruff, eyes locked intensely when she takes a deep breath and braces for her big move. I don’t know what’s coming, but I find myself on the edge of my office chair, palms sweating as I wait with bated breath.

Why I’m nervous, I don’t know. But I keep my wide eyes glued to the screen, as if I’m there with her, standing on the sidelines cheering her on with clenched fists.

She snaps, running like a prowling lion, ready to attack a pack of wild gazelles. She has fire in her eyes with every breath she takes, and I can see right there she has a heart of a winner.

Flipping into her jump, she performs a Double Arabian, building momentum with every twist her body constructs. And when she lands, shakily, she has the crowd standing to their feet, screaming their lungs out as if she’s already won the gold.

She’s powerful, nearly flawless, a beautiful lioness that claws her way through the spring floor, daring anyone to take the title away from her. And I see why Coach Carr called her Shining Star now. She’s absolutely sparkling like a thousand galaxies in that room, and she’s got the entire crowd’s eyes locked on her, including mine.

I sit there for over an hour glued to the screen, watching every single competition video I can get my hands on. One hand digs into the leather arm, the other anxiously taps away at the side of the sleek mouse. I make little notes in my mind, things she needs to work on and moves that make her stand out amongst the rest of the gymnasts. This girl is a fucking powerhouse, and she’s got immense talent that’ll take her far.

But there’s one tiny thing I notice. There’s an entire year missing from the videos. No trace of anything but a speck of dust. Coach Carr told me one of the girls had taken a year off, but she didn’t specify who or why. And now all I can wonder is what made this special girl lose an entire year of training? I’ll find out. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but I will figure it out one way or another. Even if I have to rip it out of her stubborn mind.

Madison was made to be a champion. I can see it in the way she commands a room, fighting for her chance at the gold. She’s incredible, nothing less. And dare I say, I even think she could make it to the Olympics. I will take her to the Olympics, if only she’ll accept me as her coach.

That stunt she pulled in practice today? She obviously hates my guts. The way she talked back to me and made it a statement to show off she could land a triple? Well, if she wants attention then she’s got my full attention now. If she wants to play with fire, I’ll give her the whole damn inferno.

#joel miller x ofc #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #no outbreak au #coach!Joel #joel the last of us #joel miller fan fiction #gymnastics au

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jammechanics · 9 months ago

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And. We. Are. Back! Jam Mechanics returns for season 2 with our first guest prompter (Our longtime collaborator and artist, ⁠@deepblueink2d⁠!). In our first episode back we reveal the fate of Jam Mechanics Mansion (Castle?) and reflect on the ocean that separates our two co-hosts Jam Mechanics is a podcast hosted by Matt (@narcissistcookbook) and Bug (@bughuntermusic) where we are challenged to write a song demo from scratch every episode.

If you'd like downloadable files for this episode (and the demos we showed off), ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠you can go to our Bandcamp⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ or ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠website⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to pay-what-you-want to support us!

Our brand-new discord is here⁠⁠⁠

and follow us on Instagram, YouTube, etc! Please share the show (and our music) with friends!

-- SPOILERS FOR THIS EPISODE BELOW --

Challenge: Transatlanticism

BUG'S SONG Title: Agamemnon Lyrics: I am aboard the Agamemnon, we are laying down a line It's gonna cross the ocean floor, the greatest project of our time A telegraph from Newfoundland will reach the Irish Shores but by by the time this note arrives you will not love me anymore

I am aboard the Agamemnon, laying cables in the sea For the purpose of the president to parley with the queen As for me, I've got this letter that I'll send you in the morn but by the time this note arrives you will not love me anymore

You will not love me by the time you read this note You told me you would wait if I had to go I keep your photo in a locket to remind me of my home

but while aboard the Agamemnon I have so much time to dream of a world where I can reach you with no middle-man between And maybe when we're done I'll get my turn, as a reward but I never got that chance, now you don't love me anymore When I made it to Niagara, you didn't love me anymore

You will not love me by the time you read this note You told me you would wait if I had to go I think of you so often with no way to let you know

This is only the beginning, this simple cable in the sea Soon we'll have radios and satellites and waves we cannot see No one'll know the pain of loving one they cannot reach

I'd commandeer the Agamemnon and I'd sail it back to shore it's just a faster way to learn that you don't love me anymore so I'll keep laying this cable for the lovers not yet born so that they may never hear "No, I don't love you anymore"

MATT'S SONG Title: The Tollbooth Lyrics: When Britain's national health service was launched in 1948 it set sail in the wake of the second world war when the country's citizens the upper and lower classes both the rich and the desperately poor had served together, side by side and the ones who survived the horrors came home demanding to no surprise more

we did not fight, they said in our millions just for things to return to the way they were we didn't die they said in our hundreds of thousands just to save a country where the leading cause of death is poverty and perhaps for the first time in british history the aristocrats and the working class agreed on something largely that arming the nation and teaching them how to fight and die for what they believe in makes their demands somewhat more convincing

and so barely three years after the soldiers had come home on july 5th, 1948 the british health system was torn out by the follicles and rebuilt in a new vision that it would be free at point of service, that no one, NO ONE, would be turned away or trapped into debt by lack of personal means that it would be available to everyone who walked through the doors of a hospital or a GP's office and that the well off wouldn't be able to skip the queue this was radical beyond comprehension a truly universal healthcare system doctors across the nation barred their doors and hired personal security so sure were they that the empowered impoverished would storm their offices demanding medicine and aid only to find on that monday morning a polite queue of people in need who for the first time were able to receive the treatment they would have had since birth if they had been born into a wealthier family

the trouble is healthcare is one of those futureproof industries like plumber people are always going to need water and if you can fix their pipes you are, within reason, set for life and the hospital and the doctor's surgery are no exception people are always going to get sick they're always going to get injured at the very very least everyone has to be born and everyone has to die and you would be an idiot would you not if you had the opportunity and the presence of mind to not set up a tollbooth at the well-worn bridges that lead into and out of this life

i am being faceitious of course who thinks like this who is so calculating and cruel that they would look at the legions of dying and sick and feel not compassion but greed who would see not the faces of their own parents, friends and children but a sea of investment a captured market a well of bottomless profit

it would be inappropriate for me to delve too deep into the catacombs that are the American Healthcare System if you are listening from those shores, then you know better than i do how it feels to live in fear of a broken bone of a cough that won't go away of a necessary surgery or a birth in the family I have personally met people who were having to choose between treatment for a treatable disease and a slow death So as to have something to leave their loved ones in their will A meagre windfall, after all, is infinitely preferable over a cascade of debt Maybe, at best, you are simply aware of how lucky you are To not fear these things as many do The privilege of being able to treat mild maladies as the inconvenience they are rather than an existential threat

I bring this up only because The profit machine that is the american healthcare system Is hungry And needs to be fed There is no such thing as too much money There is no endgame in an investment portfolio Where you find the princess in the very last castle and the credits roll There isn't a kill screen where the arcade machine craps out and kicks you back to the beginning The score just keeps getting bigger and bigger, the numbers getting longer and longer, Separated by decimal points and letters and commas And when the numbers get so unwieldy that we run out of space, Eh, we'll just start printing the end of year reports in landscape The machine needs to eat And the painkillers and bloodied sheets of 333 million people could only satisfy it for so long Its eyes, inevitably, have turned east

And what do you think it sees? When you have broken your arm and are getting it cast at 3am When your parents start visibly ageing and wilting When your child gets a cough that won't go away Do you think it wants to help? Or do you think it wants to fucking eat them?

#jammechanics #bug hunter #the narcissist cookbook #music podcast #jam mechanics

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quinnysnursery · 5 months ago

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[🦇] do you wanna grow together? | johnnie guilbert and grace van dien one-shot

paring : little!johnnie guilbert x cg!grace van dien

summary : johnnie opens up to grace about his coping mechanism

warning/extra tid-bits : language, talk of growing up with bad parents, bit of a tantrum at the end but it's handled well!!

word count : 2,487

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (lace from @saradika-graphics)

a/n : i'm aware this song doesn't perfectly fit the vibes but in my heart it does!! i love brye's music idc if it's "tiktok music" (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl!) also this is not proof read at all

Johnnie’s hand shook as Jake pulled up to Grace’s house. “This it?” The punk asked, leaning down to get a better look at the house in front of him.

It was nicer than Jake, Johnnie and Carrington’s place, the first time Johnnie saw it he briefly wondered just how much Grace’s role on Stranger Things paid.

“Yeah, this is it.” Johnnie’s leg bounced up and down anxiously, earning a sympathy glance from the punk next to him. “Hey,” Jake started, turning his attention to his friend.

“It’s gonna be okay. She’s a nice girl, right?” Jake made sure to look Johnnie in the eyes when he asked him this, “Yeah, she’s…awesome.” Johnnie smiled to himself, realizing just how lucky he was.

Grace was beautiful, but that wasn’t the reason Johnnie fell in love with her. He fell in love with Grace because she’d noticed him in the corner of a party, alone and to himself- like always- and came right up with that bubbly smile and asked what he was drinking.

He fell in love with Grace because she’d never once been unkind to him.

“Then I’m sure this’ll go fine.” His roommate assured him, placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And if it doesn’t, you’ll always have me and Carrington.”

Johnnie let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Yeah, yeah you’re right.” He nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“D’you want me to wait outside?” The red-haired man asked, earning a head shake from Johnnie. “Just uh- keep your phone near.” The emo man told him, earning a nod from his roommate. “Okay, good luck.” Jake smiled, unlocking the doors to his Tesla.

It didn’t take Johnnie long to get out of the car and make his way to his girlfriend’s front door. He could hear the sounds of Jake’s tires pulling out the driveway and down the street.

Just him and Grace.

That was fine, he’d stayed the night plenty of times. He even spent the weekend at her house once! It was fine.

Everything was fine.

In one swift motion, the large front door swung open revealing the blonde girl that Johnnie was here to see. “Johnnie!” Her perfume hit him in the face in the best way possible, instantly easing his nerves. Grace was good at that, somehow.

“Hey!” He smiled brightly, instantly leaning down and allowing her to hug him. Grace pulled away after a few moments, smiling brightly at her boyfriend. “Well come in!” She beamed before grabbing his tattooed hand and pulling her inside, letting the door automatically lock behind her.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry? We could order something!” She instantly jumped into conversation about things they could do whilst in each other’s presence.

“Um-“ Johnnie gulped down the lump in his throat, his hands shaking as he glanced around his girlfriend’s extravagant kitchen. “I uh- was actually hoping I could talk to you about…something.” Johnnie avoided eye contact with the blonde woman, opting to stare down at his boots.

“Oh..” Grace’s face fell, fear punching her in the gut. “Okay, we can talk.” She sat down at the kitchen island, Johnnie sitting across from her.

Both Johnnie and Grace’s legs bounced anxiously as they waited for someone to break the silence. Johnnie was wracking his brain for the script he’d made at three AM this morning- when he’d decided that he had to tell Grace about his regression.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means, the emo man had only told four people in his entire life. It dawned on him in the early morning hours that he wanted Grace to stay in his life for awhile- forever, preferably. It also dawned on him that that meant opening up about the most sacred part of himself…which was terrifying.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Grace’s voice snapped him back to reality. “What?!” Johnnie’s eyes widened, realizing his girlfriend’s blue eyes were glossing over. “No! Oh my god- No! Never!” Johnnie quickly cupped Grace’s hand with his tatted one.

“Oh thank god.” Grace breathed, placing her free hand over her heart as she let out a shaky breath. “You scared me!” She whined, a giggle following her lips.

“I’m sorry, I-” Johnnie’s brain blanked again, what was he supposed to say?

“I don’t want to break up with you! I just need you to know that I mentally regress to a toddler because my teen years were ruined!!” That wasn’t right, it couldn’t be right.

“What’s going on? You’re shaky,” The blonde woman frowned sympathetically, tracing her fingers along his crow tattoo. “More than normal.” She joked, earning a breathy laugh from her boyfriend. “I uhm…shit this is hard,” He laughed, Grace smiled sympathetically.

Johnnie took one final deep breath, “So y’know about MDE and that shit, right?” He asked. Grace instantly nodded, leaning in to show she was actively listening.

“I was like, really young, when that all started which- fuckin’ sucked.” Johnnie laughed- it wasn’t funny, but it helped his nerves. The blonde woman nodded and rubbed her thumb along the back of Johnnie’s hand, allowing her boyfriend to continue on.

“And uh- I kinda missed out on a ton of shit that kids got to do, even before moving to Nebraska.” He added, “So,” Johnnie gulped down the bundle of nerves that was creeping up on him.

“So, I found this uh- this coping mechanism, a couple years ago.”

Okay. She wasn’t freaking out yet, that was a good sign.

“It’s called age regression, have you…have you heard of it?” He asked, glancing up to meet Grace’s eyes. Grace thought for a moment before shaking her head, Johnnie didn’t know if that was for the better or for the worst.

“Okay- that’s okay.” He assured, smiling warmly at his girlfriend. “It’s this coping mechanism where the regressor-” Johnnie was cut off, “Is that you?” Grace asked, earning a nod.

“Yeah, that…that would be me.” The emo man admitted, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks. Grace nodded, readjusting in her seat. “The regressor reverts to a child-like mindset, in order to cope with stress…mental health, it um- it can be both voluntary and involuntary.” Once Johnnie was finished with his words, he brought his freehand up to his mouth- chewing on the skin around his nail in order to self-soothe.

Grace processed what her boyfriend had told her before speaking, “And you do this?” She inquired, earning a cautious nod. “Okay, thank you for telling me.” The blonde smiled, “I’m really proud of you, ‘s probably not an easy thing to tell people.” She added.

Johnnie blinked at his girlfriend in surprise. Was that it? Was she mad? She didn’t sound mad, and Grace was still holding his hand so she couldn’t be mad…right?

“Uhm- sometimes regressors- littles, that’s…that’s another name for them- sometimes littles have caregivers and-” Johnnie was cut off once again, “Is that me?” Grace asked excitedly. Johnnie couldn’t help but smile at her tone, delightfully surprised.

“I mean- it could be, but I don’t want you to feel forced into that role at all!” Johnnie quickly stated, he was just fine on his own but if Grace really wanted to help…he wouldn’t mind having her take on a caring role.

Grace thought for a moment, now dealing with her own internal battle. She didn’t have the best upbringing. Sure, being a nepo-baby meant she got whatever she wanted whenever she wanted…but that didn’t make her family issues any better. Her father was the best dad he could be, but her mom…wasn’t the best parent.

Grace had spent her entire childhood worrying about her mothers addictive habits. It was hell, something no child should ever have to deal with.

“I’m not sure I’d be very good,” She admitted softly, her heart breaking as she saw her boyfriend’s smile falter. “I mean- I just…I don’t want to taint your age regression by messing up, y’know?” She explained, earning a soft nod from Johnnie. Silence fell over the room as both parties thought silently, pondering the next step.

“...I think you’d be a really good caregiver.” Johnnie said softly, Grace felt her heart swell. “Really?” She asked, a wide grin spreading over her face. He nodded, “You’re patient, and…gentle and…you already make me happy.”

Grace placed her free hand on her heart once again, this time to signal just how much Johnnie’s words meant to her. “I’ve never had a caregiver,” He admitted, much to Grace’s surprise.

“Really? Not even Jake?” She asked, knowing how close both the boys were. “He knows but he’s not my caregiver.” He explained. Grace hummed, understanding.

“...Maybe we could learn together?” She offered, peaking Johnnie’s interest. The black-haired man tilted his head, urging her to continue. “Like- you could learn to have a caregiver and I could learn how to be one.” She smiled, earning an enthusiastic agreement from Johnnie.

“Okay…let’s learn together.”

A few weeks later, Johnnie found himself at Grace’s doorstep again. This time though, he had a backpack resting over one shoulder- filled to the brim with his regression supplies.

Toys, a sippy cup, various different coloring books (with crayons, of course) and even a deco-paci that Carrington had gifted him after learning of Johnnie’s regression.

Needless to say, Johnnie overpacked for an overnight stay but…he couldn’t help it! He was nervous!

“Johnnie!” Grace beamed, swinging her front door open and instantly latching herself onto her boyfriend. Johnnie let out the breath he’d been holding in, melting into the blonde’s arms.

After soaking in the hug for a few moments, Grace pulled back and immediately began tugging Johnnie inside by his hand.

“Come in! Look what I did!” The girl smiled, once again letting the door shut and lock once the two were inside. Johnnie nearly tripped over himself with how fast his girlfriend was dragging him to her living room, but once he saw exactly what she was so excited about he couldn’t help but smile.

Grace had made a fort that spanned the entire size of her living room, “I hope this ‘s okay, I loved forts as a kid so I just thought-” She was cut off by her boyfriend letting out an excited hum and bouncing excitedly.

Grace blinked in surprise, in the months she’d known Johnnie he had never done that. She didn’t dislike it, though. If anything, Grace found it adorable.

“Cece help ‘e?” Johnnie asked, tugging on Grace’s shirt gently with hopeful eyes.

Cece.

Grace smiled softly, “Help with what, sweetheart?” She asked, surprising herself with her own tone. It was soft, gentler than her typical one- she hadn’t realized that was possible until now.

“Shoes!” He smiled, gently placing his backpack on the floor, beginning to tug at his boots. Grace quickly moved his backpack into the fort before crouching in front of the regressed man to help him get his boots off.

“So you like it?” She asked hopefully, earning a firm nod from Johnnie. “Uh-huh!”

“We go in?” Johnnie asked softly, pointing at the entrance of the fort. Grace thought for a moment, “Have you eaten?” She asked, not wanting Johnnie to be hungry.

Johnnie nodded, humming out small “mmhm!”.

“Jayjay made ‘e nuggets.” He smiled proudly, Grace nodded. “Okay, then yeah! Let’s go in!” She agreed, lifting up the blanket to allow Johnnie to crawl in- following him after.

Johnnie gaped at the interior of the fort, multiple twinkling fairy lights hung around. “Staw’s!” He smiled, looking towards Grace with eyes full of childlike wonder.

Grace knew at that moment that, even if she didn’t know how to be a caregiver, there wasn’t anything in this world that would stop her from learning.

“Yeah baby! Stars!” She encouraged, her heart melting into a pile of goop as Johnnie curled up next to her. “Do you wanna watch a movie, baby?” She asked, “Cow’pse Bw’ide?!” The little questioned, excitedly.

“Sure, hun.” Grace smiled, nodding. She quickly grabbed the TV remote off of her couch, scrolling to find the correct movie. The blonde woman wrapped her arm around the little, a coo slipping from her lips as Johnnie rested his head on her shoulder.

Johnnie whined, tired tears threatening to spill from his icy blue eyes. Grace let out a gentle sigh, “Baby, you're tired.” She tried explaining, but the little one was having none of it. He’d dozed off halfway through the movie, only to wake up still exhausted. The only issue was, Johnnie refused to settle back down.

“M’ not!” He sniffled, despite rubbing his eye with his fist immediately after. Grace took a moment to think about what her parents would’ve done. With her dad’s job, it was rare that parenting was left up to him but her mom probably would’ve left her to cry it out in her room alone. It only ever made her feelings intensify, leading to more frustrated tears.

Grace wouldn’t do that to Johnnie, she couldn’t. The blonde woman took a deep breath before meeting Johnnie’s eyes again, “Can you look at Cece?” She asked gently.

Johnnie whined, shaking his head and diverting his gaze. “Baby, please?” She cooed, reaching out and brushing Johnnie’s hair away from his eyes. The little begrudgingly met his caregiver’s eyes, “I can tell you're really flustered right now, huh?” She asked, receiving a sniffly nod from the pale man.

“Okay! Hey, that’s okay.” She reassured, thinking about what she needed to hear as a child. “Can you tell Cece why?” She questioned, “Don’ wanna ‘eep!” Johnnie shouted, wobbly lip breaking Grace’s heart.

“Can we try using softer voices?” Grace asked, quoting a gentle-parenting tiktok she’d seen whilst lying in bed awake last night- terrified she’d ruin Johnnie’s regression. She wanted to make sure she was as prepared as possible, and thank god she did.

Johnnie’s lip wobbled, but he nodded. “Sorry, Cece.” He apologized. “That’s okay baby, I know you didn’t mean it.” Grace comforted, pulling the little into a hug after asking permission.

“M’ still wanna color wif’ Cece…” Johnnie admitted through tired tears, “Oh buddy…” The woman cooed, looking down at the little in her arms. “We can still color, I just think you need a nap before we do.” She giggled, resulting in a small smile forming on Johnnie’s face.

“Cece wake ‘e up?” He asked hopefully, earning a quick nod from Grace. “Yeah, I’ll wake you up in…thirty minutes, okay?” She offered. Johnnie thought for a moment before nodding and snuggling back into Grace’s arms.

“Get some rest, I expect to see how talented you are at colorin’.” The blonde joked, earning a smiley laugh from the man in her arms. “Night night, Cece.” Johnnie yawned, eyes already drooping.

“Night night, sweet boy.” She kissed the top of Johnnie’s head, allowing herself to relax.

She was confident she had Johnnie, and Johnnie was confident that Grace had him. They’d grow together.

taglist !! :

@babybatxxx @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart @pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx @tyummyz

(also tagging @nicksbestie and @salemscene since i said i would SO long ago i'm so sorry it took forever😖)

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seabirdtxt · 2 years ago

Text

Vocem Dei

The Shouki no Kami was built to be the closest thing to an artificial god that humanity could create.

Just how close to divinity does the god-machine get? [p1 - you are here!] [p2] [p3]

Notes: Genshin SAGAU, cult AU, vaguely religious themes. pre-3.2!

WC. 1.5k

----- ⚘ -----

The Shouki no Kami was built to be the closest thing to an artificial god that humanity could create.

Infused with dozens of Divine Knowledge capsules, and powered by liquid energy inspired by the Lord Balladeer’s own divine puppet blood, the machine god had capabilities beyond even Dottore’s own comprehension.

And the good Doctor was oh so eager to find out what would happen if a person were to be plugged into the mainframe.

Nevermind that every scholar who’d tried to use Divine Knowledge capsules lost their minds in the process.

Scaramouche grunts softly with every tube that locks into its socket on his back, the sensation of the machine’s lifeblood beginning to flow through him causing his body’s equivalent of a brain, his databank, to spark painfully. He pushes through it, determined to grasp divinity with both of his unworthy hands even if it’s the last thing he does.

The moment he feels the last tube socket in, an all-encompassing buzzing sensation floods his body, causing him to jolt and spasm uncontrollably. He snarls and grits his teeth, distantly hearing Dottore rattle off some statistics.

The feeling is reminiscent of his birth, when he knew the embrace of the electro gnosis, but amplified by hundreds.

An inhuman scream leaves him, electro bolts coursing across his body and the machine’s as he bows backward, curved over the shimmering tubes and feeling their hotcoldsmoothsharp liquid pulsing through him. He opens his eyes, not aware of when he’d closed them.

Above him, reflected in the ceiling Shouki no Kami’s metal cockpit, Scaramouche can see his own eyes glow so brightly with electro energy that his pupils become white. Purple sparks emit from the corners of his eyes, like tears of pure energy that tumble down the sides of his face contorted in rage and agony. In his mouth, parted in a scream that’s now beyond human hearing, small bolts of lighting sew his teeth together.

Through sheer force of his own will, the face of Shouki no Kami’s cockpit begins to slide closed, just as he hears Dottore announce 100% compatibility.

As the face plates slam shut, the overwhelming sensation of raw power suddenly cuts out and Scaramouche slumps over, held up only by his connection to the tubes in his back. His face nearly collided with the doors in front of him but he stops his descent with his hands, and the sockets in his back pull ominously.

The blessed silence lasts for exactly a minute before being replaced by a strange mechanical sound, almost like a bell ringing.

He lifts his head weakly, turning from side to side to find the source, until he realizes it’s coming from inside his head.

“Wh-” he begins, but is cut off as a clicking noise interrupts him, replacing the ringing with a cordial-sounding voice.

“Hello, who’s speaking?”

“H- hey! Who the hell are you?! I demand to know how you’re speaking to me right now!”

There’s silence for a moment before the voice responds.

“Uh, well, you called me, dude. And I asked first.”

A million thoughts run through Scaramouche’s head as he braces his hands against the face plates of the cockpit, pushing himself back upright with a noise of frustration.

“Do you even know who I am? When I find out who you are I will put an end to your insignificant insect life- wait, what do you mean I called you?”

“... You… You called me, and I answered…” The voice says hesitantly, a tone of amusement filtering into their words. “That’s how calling usually works, right?”

Scaramouche rubs his temples, shaking his head. “I… called you? I don't even know who you are. How did you get in my head?”

“... in your- you know what? This is weird, dude. I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Wait!” Scaramouche blurts out before he can even realize he’s done it. “Don’t… don’t go! At least tell me who you are?”

The silence is deafening, and for a moment Scaramouche is sure he’s been left alone, and then the voice returns…

… Saying the name of Teyvat’s overarching deity. Greater than the Archons. Greater than Celestia. Greater than even the Traveller, who originated from beyond this world.

Incredulous, Scaramouche repeats after you, following up with: “Is- is that right? That’s your name?”

“... Yes? Should it not be?”

Scaramouche lets out a peal of elated laughter, the tubes in his back rattling with the movement. Unbelievable. He did it! He attained godhood beyond even the power of the Archons; he made direct contact with the Divine Creator themself!

“Your Grace! I can’t believe it. It’s me! It’s Scaramouche, the Balladeer, Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui! I can’t even begin to fathom that you deigned answer to my call!”

“Scaramouche? Like from the game?” the voice asks. “Is this some kind of prank?”

“Wait, no, please! No, I swear this isn’t a joke, please believe me! I’ve worked so hard to get to this point, I deserve your recognition!” A hint of desperation bleeds into his voice, and his fists clench where they’re pressed into the walls of the Shouki no Kami’s cockpit. A second passes with no response and a pathetic cry escapes his lips. “Please… not you, too…”

His shoulders and the tubes shake with the force of his muffled sobs, air he doesn’t truly need catching in his throat. He lets his head fall forward, colliding with the metal panels with a dull noise.

“Listen, I’m not sure I believe you,” the voice returns. “But you sound really bad, man. Please don’t cry or anything, okay? I’m kinda in the middle of something right now but I’ll call you back in a bit. If this is some kind of RP thing or whatever, I swear…”

Scaramouche feels it, the second communication is cut. It leaves a void in his skull, right behind his ears, and the silence that once filled the cockpit is replaced with the mechanical whir of the Shouki no Kami, and the metallic sound of hammering.

He swallows and rubs his eyes roughly, scrubbing any trace of tears and briefly thanking the powers that be for having made him a puppet, to exist without the embarrassing functions of blushing or having bloodshot eyes.

He grumbles and looks down at the heel of his palms, noticing that he’d wiped some blood as well. He checks his nose, finding it to be the source, and messily wipes it clean before willing the cockpit’s face plates to open.

Outside, a frantic team of Fatui engineers cheer and hastily pull the doors open, and Dottore pokes his head into the space, seemingly both relieved and intrigued at Scaramouche’s state.

“Well well, my little friend,” Dottore drawls, a shark-like smile spreading across his face. “The god machine, as well as you, has been unresponsive for just under twenty-four hours. We’d nearly feared that we lost you.”

Scaramouche glares at him with a sneer. “You seem so terribly broken up about it. I’m touched by your show of concern."

Dottore doesn’t reply, only acquiescing with a hum. Around him, the engineers are taking stock of the robot’s state and functions, jotting down notes and observing the puddle of Scaramouche’s blood, the evidence of which is still drying on his face.

“Tell me, was the synchronization a success?” the Doctor finally asks, barely holding back a flinch when Scaramouche’s head flies up to face him with a feral grin.

“More than a success,” he raves, his hand coming up to touch the side of his head. “With just a bit more practice, I will ascend higher than even Celestia itself!”

Dottore hides his uncertainty well, but Scaramouche’s eyes are sharper than they were before, and his grin widens at the sight of the Doctor’s expression.

“Very well, let us conclude the test now, then.” Dottore announces, motioning for the technicians around him to disconnect Scaramouche from the machine.

“No.” Scaramouche says, maintaining eye contact with Dottore and remaining stock still as he sends a pulse of electro running down his body, giving a violent shock to any of the technicians who’d been unfortunately too close.

“... No?” Dottore asks with a stiff smile.

“I want to stay connected with the machine,” Scaramouche declares. “Isn’t this the goal? Shouldn’t I spend as much time attuning to the divine energy, so that I may become the perfect god? This is what you designed it for, after all, right?"

Dottore remains silent, with that same plastic smile on his face.

“Very well,” he says curtly. “The Lord Balladeer may remain inside the god-machine. Resume monitoring and record signs of changes.”

The Doctor turns on his heel and steps lightly out of the room before Scaramouche could annoy him further. That suits Scaramouche just fine, as well. He settles back into the cockpit, willing the face plates closed until he’s in solitude once more. He stares at the small puddle of his own blood on the floor; his normal reddish oil-blood mixing with vibrant, glowing purple.

He leans back into the mess of tubes, and smirks.

He’ll eagerly await your next contact.

#genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #genshin isekai #sagau cult au #genshin scaramouche #sagau scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #sagau x reader #seabird.txt #aka shouki no kami is a giant god walkietalkie au #Voice of God AU

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