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bokonowriter · 5 days ago

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Crimson & Curls - Part 1

Remmick x Fem! Reader Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Description: That night in the rain with Remmick… it was more than chance; a raw vulnerability laid bare between you and him. A mutual curiosity thrummed, a silent question about the power leashed beneath his elegant coat. And behind that devilish smile, a promise of shadowed pleasures, a darkness that whispered a dangerous invitation to your very soul. Find out, what is that devil hiding? ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆ "Tell me, honey… what else are you hiding? What desires do you keep locked away? Perhaps… I can help you unleash them."

A/n: The reader in this is mixed ethnicity, and thus light skinned. She is white passing due to her lightly tanned skin tone.

Warnings: This story contains explicit content (DO NOT INTERACT UNLESS 18+) including: oral smut, public smut, explicit language, fingering, intense sensual detail, moaning/whimpering, female orgasms, and squirting, mentions of supernatural. (more will be added as the story continues).

Seeking Shelter in the Shadows

WHEN THE cicadas fell silent before dusk – a hush thicker than the kudzu that strangled the abandoned plantation – the old folks in Delta understood. It wasn't just the coming darkness; it was the whisper of what lay restless in the woods, a hunger older than the moss-draped oaks and twice as unforgiving.

You should’ve known. Mama's words, thick with the swamp-born wisdom of generations, should have echoed louder: "Never trust a sunset that bleeds like a stuck hog."

Yet you found yourself gazing mindlessly towards the streaks of angry crimson that slashed across the darkening horizon.

Tonight it wasn't the peaceful blush of a typical sunset, but a violent, almost desperate flare, as if the very heavens were weeping blood. The light that did breakthrough was sharp and fractured, casting long, distorted shadows that writhed like restless spirits on the moss-draped ground.

But below, the clouds were boiling masses of charcoal and deep indigo, their undersides rimmed with a fierce, almost electric gold – the devil's own furnace, Mama would have hissed.

These weren't soft, pillowy formations; they were jagged and turbulent, like the tormented souls Silas Crowder swore he saw clawing their way out of the earth after the great flood.

You needed to get to town, past the whispering pines that seemed to watch you, and quickly. Smoke & Stack, their eyes already glinting like hungry possums in the twilight, were tethered to your return, knowing a light-skinned girl like you could grease the wheels of a deal they couldn't manage on their own.

Fool's errand, venturing out before the moon bled its sickly light across the marshy flats, but the juke joint's resurrection loomed, and the strain had those boys knotted tighter than a hangman's noose – a familiar dance with the demons of their own making, a twisted echo of your daddy's losing battle with the bottle.

Annie's pronouncements, heavy with the swamp's ancient wisdom, clung to you like grave dust. "It’s the ole serpent’s harvest rotting on good soil…" A shiver traced the length of your spine; that kind of talk burrowed deep, hinting at a darkness that clung to the very land. But Annie... She was rooted here, her soul intertwined with the rustling secrets of the pines and the sorrowful sigh of the willows.

If she saw the serpent's mark on Smoke & Stack's trembling hands, then that was her truth, a truth etched in generations of backwoods lore. And you, a fragile bloom in this thorny landscape, wouldn't dare cross the only kin who even acknowledged you, wouldn't risk severing the tenuous thread that bound you to this harsh, unforgiving world.

Adjusting the straps on your satchel, you rounded a bend in the road, when the low rumble of a car approached. Little whirlwinds of baked clay and grit, like the land itself was sighing with unease, twisted across the asphalt as two trucks, rough and menacing, crawled into view, filled with men in white hoods.

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a trapped bird desperate for flight, as you sank low into the sawgrass, praying its brittle blades offered enough sanctuary. The trucks crawled past, iron beasts exhaling fumes and ill-will, as the men within their white shrouds turned their faces, their gazes like chips of ice laced with venom. A guttural cry, foul and demeaning, ripped through the stagnant air, leaving you to wonder if those words of poison were meant for you alone or if it was simply the bile these creatures carried within them.

Then, a shadow detached itself from the deeper shadows of the woods. It was as if he materialized in the center of the road, a stark and unexpected sentinel. The trucks, lumbering behemoths brought to a sudden halt, their white-clad occupants momentarily stunned by his abrupt appearance.

“Move along,” Remmick’s voice, a low drawl that belied the steel beneath, sliced through the suffocating tension. “You’re fouling the quiet of this stretch.”

"This ain't your concern, night rider," one of the shrouded figures spat, the word "night rider" laced with a venom that clung to the humid air.

Before the ugliness could bloom further, the sky, moments before a deceptive expanse of pale evening, tore open. Not a gentle rain, but a furious deluge, as if the heavens themselves had finally wept for the sins below. The dust of the road turned to a thick, sucking mud in the blink of an eye, each drop a violent lash against the parched earth.

The trucks, those iron steeds of hate, choked and sputtered in the sudden downpour, their engines wheezing like dying beasts. A chorus of curses, muffled by the sodden white hoods now plastered to their wearers' faces like grotesque shrouds, rose in the storm's fury.

Remmick turned his gaze to you, who stood drenched, the rain beading on your skin, transforming the careful lines of your straight hair into tight, dark curls that frame your face like a storm-wrought halo.

“Are you alright?” Remmick’s voice was surprisingly gentle amidst the downpour.

A tremor ran through you, not entirely from the damp, and you managed a nod. Your gaze lifted to his, and in the shadowed depths of his eyes, something flickered – a stillness, a regard that lingered on the sudden bloom of your dark curls, a silent acknowledgment of something revealed, something…unfurling.

A slow, knowing smile, filled with warmth in the storm's sudden chill, touched the corners of Remmick's lips. His eyes, usually guarded, held a flicker of something akin to shared amusement.

"This deluge," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that barely carried over the rain, "has taken a rather…unforeseen turn, wouldn't you say? Perhaps fate, in its soggy wisdom, suggests a more…private communion, somewhere dry?"

Before the unexpected lightness of his words could fully settle in your heart, a brutal cough of metal ripped through the downpour's symphony – another backfire, followed instantly by the vicious crack of a gunshot that sent a fresh wave of terror through you.

Instinct flared in Remmick's eyes, a raw protectiveness that tightened his jaw. Without a word, his hand, calloused but surprisingly tender, closed around yours. His grip was firm, a silent promise of safety as he urged you towards the dark sanctuary of the trees. They stumbled blindly through the grasping undergrowth, the rain a cold, relentless assault, your breaths catching in shared gasps of exertion and lingering fear.

Finally, deep within the ancient woods, the torrential downpour eased to a heavy sigh. You leaned against the rough embrace of an oak, your body trembling, your lungs burning with each ragged breath. The rain had plastered your hair to your scalp, a dark, clinging veil that starkly revealed the delicate curve of your trembling lips and the intricate beauty of your now-soaked curls, a vulnerability laid bare by the storm's harsh hand.

Remmick watched you, his gaze no longer guarded but filled with a quiet intensity. His eyes traced the delicate lines of your face, each feature softened and made luminous by the rain. It was more than observation; it was a silent acknowledgment of your resilience, the unexpected beauty revealed in this shared moment of fear and raw exposure, a connection forged in the heart of the storm.

"Remarkable," he breathed, the word a near-silent reverence lost in the rain's steady rhythm. His gaze, still softened from its earlier intensity, lingered on the way the water clung to your dark curls, each coil a testament to a beauty the storm had unveiled. A beat passed, and he almost didn't dare break the quiet intimacy. "The change… it's quite striking," he finally whispered, as if speaking a secret to the rain-soaked air. He cleared his throat, a touch of awkwardness coloring his tone. "The name's Remmick."

"Thank you, Remmick," you replied, his name feeling substantial and unfamiliar yet pleasant on your tongue.

A hesitant curiosity flickered in his eyes. "So… what brings a girl….like you out to this stretch of road?"

"A girl like me?" A wry smile touched your lips, a hint of the defensiveness you'd learned to carry always near the surface.

"Uh–no, not like that," he stammered, a flush creeping up his neck. "I just meant… someone… out here."

A soft giggle escaped you, a nervous lightness in the tense aftermath. "I know what you meant." You offered a small, self-deprecating shrug. "Helping a friend. Getting the new juke joint ready."

Remmick's interest seemed to ignite, his questions tumbling out in quick succession, his earlier reserve melting away. "It opens soon? What sort of music will fill its walls? Will it be a place… a gathering for the community here? And you… what part do you play in all of this? You seem… different." His gaze flickered back to your hair, a genuine, almost tender smile gracing his lips this time, a silent acknowledgment of the beauty he'd witnessed in the storm's unveiling.

Despite the lingering tremor of fear and the clammy discomfort of your soaked clothes, you found yourself drawn into the orbit of Remmick's intense scrutiny. His curiosity wasn't casual; it felt like a probing touch.

"Next week," you replied, your voice a little breathy. "Mostly blues. Somewhere folks can let loose the day's burdens. I…" you hesitated, a flicker of your usual guardedness returning, "I'm just a friend lending a hand."

Remmick's eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours with an unnerving focus, as if trying to decipher a hidden language etched on your skin. "A friend," he repeated, the word lingering in the damp air. "With such… singular features. You possess a… certain… dissonance with the expected fabric of this place, wouldn't you agree?"

A subtle stiffness entered your posture, a familiar prickle of defensiveness rising like hackles. "I belong wherever I damn well choose to belong."

A shadow of apology softened the sharp edges of Remmick's gaze. "Forgive my bluntness. My curiosity often outstrips my social graces. It's merely… you possess an… intriguing dichotomy." His gaze drifted downwards, a slow, almost possessive slide along your neck, a subtle pulse in his own throat betraying a deeper fascination.

"Those… men in the trucks," he continued, his voice dropping to a low murmur, the earlier levity vanished. "They exuded a… particular brand of ugliness. You were fortunate my path intersected with yours."

A genuine shiver traced your spine, a coldness that went beyond the rain's chill, a visceral echo of the hatred you had witnessed. "I… thank you again," you managed, your voice barely a whisper. "You stepped in when you had no reason to."

His gaze met yours once more, the intensity now laced with something heavier, a nascent possessiveness that sent a strange flutter through your chest. "Consider it… a strategic investment. In the future vibrancy of this establishment… and its… unique inhabitants. Perhaps," a slow, deliberate smile touched his lips, a mirror of the one before but now carrying a different weight, "in return for my timely… assistance, you might find yourself indebted to me for a small favor? Something well within your… capabilities, of course."

A peculiar sensation washed over you– a disquieting blend of unease and a surprising, almost illicit spark of something akin to… anticipation. The unwavering intensity of his gaze, the pointed nature of his questions, the subtle claim in his words… it was unsettling, a tremor of danger beneath a veneer of politeness, yet it held an undeniable, magnetic pull that you liked.

“What kind of favor?”

Remmick's smile broadened, revealing a flash of teeth that held both a disarming charm and an undercurrent of something sharp, something predatory. "Patience, little bird. Opportunities, like shadows in the moonlight, have a way of revealing themselves in due time. But until then…" Remmick's gaze lingered on you, a protective instinct softening the sharp edges of his features. "The rain's easing, but the night's still young, and those… individuals might still be lurking. Perhaps… as a temporary measure of repayment for my unsolicited heroism, I could ensure your safe passage home? A small stroll, under a less… hostile sky."

A small, polite smile, a brief flicker of warmth in a cooling world, touched your lips. Even without Annie's watchful gaze, her shop stood as a silent sentinel, imbued with the protective essence of her craft – a whispered promise of sanctuary in this shadowed land.

"I would be grateful for that," you finally murmured. He offered his elbow, a stark white against the deepening gloom, and you accepted, your hand finding a hesitant purchase. He moved with a careful grace, navigating the mud-slicked path like a shadow avoiding consecrated ground, until your feet found the familiar, rutted dirt that had been your lonely guide before.

Remmick steered you with a silent grace, his presence a dark shadow against the fading light. The air hung heavy, thick with the musk of damp earth and something else, something ancient that seemed to emanate from the very soil. He stopped at the edge of Annie's porch, the scent of dried herbs and something vaguely metallic clinging to the air around the shop. A subtle unease tightened the lines around his mouth.

"This dwelling…" His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, scanned the hand-painted sigils above the door, symbols that seemed to writhe in the dim light. "It hums with a… peculiar energy. You wouldn't happen to traffic in the shadowed arts yourself, would you, child?" His eyes, pools of fathomless night, held a hunger for something beyond the mundane.

You shook your head, a wry twist to your lips. "Not I. But a dear friend… she's got her fingers deep in that spiritual muck. Annie's shop is her refuge, same as it is mine."

A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the drip of water from the eaves. "And you? You linger in a place steeped in such… fancies. Yet you remain untouched by belief?"

Your gaze drifted to the lamplit windows, a flicker of something akin to weariness in your eyes. "I reckon there's things out there we ain't meant to understand. Maybe the spooks and spirits are real enough. But maybe they're just as lost and lonesome as the rest of us, searchin' for a patch of ground that feels like home."

A slow smile, like moonlight on a tombstone, touched Remmick's lips. He lifted her hand, his skin cool as river stone, but instead of a simple farewell, he drew you a step closer. His other hand, swift and deliberate, cupped the underside of your chin, tilting your face up towards his. For a heartbeat, his gaze dropped to your lips, a silent question hanging in the damp air. Then, a slow, knowing wink flickered in his dark eyes before he released you. "I find myself… unexpectedly… invested in your safe return to this haven, little wren. Until the shadows beckon us together again."

The feeling of his warmth leaving you there, made you feel naked. Then with a final, lingering gaze that seemed to promise more than his words conveyed, he dissolved into the deepening gloom, leaving you on Annie's porch, the scent of protective charms and the unsettling warmth of a vampire's near-kiss clinging to the damp night air. NEXT CHAPTER >

#remmick #remmick x reader #remmick x you #remmick x y/n #sinners movie #sinners 2025 #smut #cw blood #vampire #shameless smut #cornbread #smoke and stack #x reader

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tastesousweet · 1 year ago

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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x black!reader

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 months ago

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Alternative Uses for the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Rulebook

To answer the question immediately: Yes!

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is obviously purpose-built for investigation, often but not always involving some degree of urban or modern fantasy, but there’s a few other things that, incidentally, it does really well.

The Intended Use

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is purpose-built for investigation. Not police investigation, more like “investigative reporter” investigation. No fancy (and overrated) forensics here, just going around town, talking to people, examining evidence with the naked eye, maybe taking photographs, etc., hopefully culminating in successfully blowing the whistle, rescuing the victims, preventing further harm, or some other positive outcome. Of course, the danger, and the emotional strain of brushing with danger, may say otherwise. There are official Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy adventure modules for this, and it also plays well with Call of Cthulhu and Delta Green adventure modules.

Also there might be a vampire on either side of this equation.

The other thing it’s purpose-built for is survival-horror, in the same vein as early Resident Evil. The PCs are trapped in some location with a scary monster, and they must evade this monster long enough to figure out how to escape or defeat it. This of course actually involves a lot of investigation, such as examining clues to figure out what the nature of the monster even is, and how to escape.

The rest of this post is stuff that Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy wasn’t purpose-built for but incidentally runs very well.

Heists

Heists involve scoping out a location, breaking in, and stealing something from inside without getting caught. This necessarily involves a lot of investigation, which is what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy does best.

Scoping out the building, finding the flaws in its security systems, learning all there is to know about it to anticipate anything that could happen during the heist, that is all investigation.

Actually breaking into the building and getting out without getting caught utilizes the dame careful evasion mechanics as already mentioned in above. Hell, even in the course of normal investigative gameplay, PCs often break into places to snoop for evidence. Stealing a file from a police station is not that different from stealing the diamond from the museum.

(Did I mention that Eureka also has mechanics for tracking how much attention the PCs have attracted from the police and how close the police are to coming to arrest them? And also car and foot chase mechanics?)

Spies

For some reason this doesn’t immediately occur to people, but spies are investigators. Their job is information gathering, and so Eureka emulates spy fiction really well too, especially since it has good stealth mechanics and pretty robust interpersonal conversation mechanics to boot.

Regular default gameplay in Eureka already assumes that information gathering is what the PCs are going to be doing, often while trying to keep a low profile and not draw attention to the fact that they’re investigating. Give them a false identity and drop them in a hostile environment and bam, they’re spies. (This is something our own personal group has actually done before and it went great.)

Assassins

Sometimes spies kill people too after investigating things like their regular movements, security detail, etc.

(Did I mention that Eureka also has robust and realistic gun fighting mechanics as well?)

S.T.A.L.K.E.R.

This one is a bit out of left field, but it makes sense if you think about it. Fragile PCs, robust gun fighting mechanics that simulate realistic shootouts across long distances, robust mechanics for social interaction and handling how the PCs will react to seeing weird and dangerous shit, and investigation mechanics that encourage keeping a careful eye of for the smallest details. Eureka can do S.T.A.L.K.E.R. surprisingly well. Drop the PCs in an irradiated, lawless exclusion zone where they don’t know who they can trust, and task them with following up leads on a mysterious artefact, and paying careful attention once they find it so they can figure out how to take it without being killed by invisible anomalies.

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catscoollike · 1 month ago

Note

What do you think will happen between Kris and the Player?

Hi, thanks for the question! I think about that a lot, naturally.

This is something that is still pretty controversial among theory crafting folk as of right now. But I think Kris is the knight. And I believe that they are the main antagonist of the game.

continued under the cut:

Chapter 2 did a lot to show the player how you are actively working against Kris's best interests. It's a point the game really wants to hammer in; Kris isn't just a silent protagonist. They are an actual person that you have taken control of and is fighting against what you are making them do. And I think Deltarune will take this idea to the farthest extreme and use it to make you, the player the protagonist. And your unwilling puppet, the antagonist who is working against you.

Whenever Kris is in control of their body, they are always doing something to facilitate the creation of a new dark world. The best example we have is the house's dark world. We see how they plan it out. They plug in the TV the night before, and they slash the car's tires, so Toriel would call the police.

Chapter 2's ending deliberately shows us every little detail Kris wanted for this dark world.

We see them open the door so the responding officer can get inside, showing that they wanted Toriel to call the cops.

We then see them turn the TV back on, something that would be important enough for the dark world to be themed around it.

And we see them stare at Susie, the third delta warrior. Who would have to be there for Ralsei's prophecy to not be immediately disproven.

Why do we have any reason to believe that this is an isolated incident? We are shown that Kris opening this dark world isn't something that they did on a whim because of something they saw in chapter 2. They wanted to do this as early as the ending of chapter 1, and probably before that. With Kris plugging in the TV we know that they're aware that dark worlds can be created wherever, and that dark fountains are created by lightners and aren't created on the dark world's side. We only learn how to create dark worlds in chapter 2 so we the viewer know what the hell Kris is doing when they stab the floor later.

So, if we know that Kris is fully willing to create dark worlds and situations where random people fall into them, as shown with the random cop who's going to respond to Toriel's call. Who's to say that isn't exactly what Kris did with chapter 2's dark world with Noelle and Berdly? I'll admit Kris would be banking a lot on Berdly and Noelle choosing to go to the library to work on their assignment, rather than... Noelle's giant mansion down the road. But we know Berdly has work every day after school, and since he works at the library Kris could know that they would probably be there? It's weak I know but I'm sure there's some information that's purposely being withheld right now.

The one thing that I can't ignore however is that when Kris and Susie first see the school closet's dark fountain. Kris gets scared and backs away from it when Susie asks them to go in.

The best explanation I can think of for why they seem scared by it is that they're faking it. Susie only goes in to show that she's not a wimp like Kris.

Kris has purposely played into pre-chapter 1 Susie's anger before. As seen in Noelle's "newest girl girl" post. It could be them goating Susie to go in first.

Now I don't like sourcing Noelle's blogposts because... They're really weird.

I was going to point out that Noelle is acting uncharacteristically lovey-dovey about Susie being terrible to Kris. But we have no idea when these posts were written. Noelle could genuinely be like 13 writing some of this stuff. Which was probably the intention.

"Which, um, contain arsenic if you didn't know. X)" reads exactly like a little kid who wants to look smart by showing that they know the name of the chemical that makes apple seeds poisonous.

Speaking of evidence I'm not super confident in. Deltarune's world has a lot of parallels with Undertale's... I'm... sure you have noticed this by now. But some of these parallels are weird, because it feels like the events being paralleled only happened because of events that happened in undertale. Like Toriel and Asgore's divorce, from what we know it was mainly caused by their disagreement on Asgore's plan to kill any human that falls into the underground. Before that they had a really happy marriage, if the true lab tapes are anything to go by. And sticking with Asgore here, in his flower shop he has this weird shrine dedicated to 7 flowers. Which considering that Asgore was removed from the police force because of something he assumedly did on duty, that makes Kris uncomfortable enough to stop the player from reading about it. There are some implications there of what he did.

But what I'm getting at here is that what if Kris has more than a surface level connection with their closest possible Undertale counterpart, Chara.

We don't know much about Undertale's Chara, on account of them being dead and everything. But we do know that they liked chocolate, had a brother named Asriel who later remarked that they weren't a great person and despised humans, can make a scary face, and made a plan to kill themselves to save everyone with Asriel. Uh oh...

Kris being the knight would finally give an explanation for why they're holding the knife like that. They aren't going to murder everyone or just get some pie; they're going to open a dark fountain.

What if that is Kris's motivation for all of this? Like Chara they're trying to save everyone who they see as trapped. The only difference between a protagonist and an antagonist is perspective.

That could be why they're showing the dark worlds to as many people as possible. But if they want to cause the roaring it's strange that they have almost a schedule for when they open new dark worlds to make sure there aren't ever more then 2 open at once. Because if they can do it at any time, why are they waiting until the previous one gets closed before opening a new one? There doesn't seem to be a sort of cooldown for creating dark worlds. The classroom was opened for chapter 1, the library's was opened after that for chapter 2, and now Kris just opened one for chapter 3. What are they waiting for?

And before you say it, I don't think Kris is doing this just so they can go on fun adventures with their friends or so they can be the hero. Because they're not, you're the one making them close the dark fountains and they hate being controlled by you. And I think something that could end the world shouldn't be used as a fun hang out spot. It would just make Kris look like an idiot.

So how do I think this is going to end? Well, I've got some ideas.

Can't wait for chapter 3 to disprove all of this by the way.

#deltarune #kris dreemurr #deltarune theory #chara dreemuur #utdr

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formulatrash · 7 months ago

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What Hot Hatch* Should Every F1 Driver Have? Pt 1

*some of these cars are not technically hot hatches but they are, spiritually, hot hatches to ME and also car genres are meaningless shut up

Unfortunately because I have problems I allowed the group chat to commission me into writing this. I think you will be able to see the point where I really unleashed the thoughts that probably ought to be kept inside. Maybe I will keep Pt 2 to myself.

Max Verstappen - Honda Civic Type R This was tricky because we know the grid's resident cat dad is actually an SUV girly off the track. But he's also a brand loyalist and I'm fairly sure literally has had one of these as his factory car so it checks out that a car notorious for having a better engine than it did chassis would fit the Red Bull post-Newey meltdown. And if you need to go round a bunch of roundabouts there's really almost nothing rivalled to a Civic Type R.

Lewis Hamilton - og Nissan Leaf Yes, Lewis has never had any association to the Renault-Nissan alliance in his life but whatever he's leaving Mercedes. Think he's sort of forgotten about this but he did commit to only driving electric road cars awhile back and I will defend the Nissan Leaf with my LIFE as one of the most fun cars to drive. Nearly said the NISMO Leaf but actually the time I had a go in one of them it was insanely overbearing in a way someone used to having Bono to whine to wouldn't appreciate. The stripped down, basic, original is more than enough to fuck about in a multistory car park and I'm confident Lewis would immediately know what to do with it when next to a BMW at traffic lights.

George Russell - Williams Renault Clio This was actually what started it because I was introducing my beautiful wife to the groupchat and then considering which driver should throw some pocket money at it. Leaving aside the fact that if I was that rich there'd be a lockup in Monte Carlo full of the shittest mid-90s three-doors you've ever seen in your life, this car is perfect for George. It's got a legitimate heritage connection and it's a proper piece, something to look after. There's even matching sweaters for him and Carmen to wear in a sponsored post. And when he gets that look in his eye and starts clenching his jaw too much it's extremely good for doing donuts outside Carrefour.

Sergio Perez - Toyota GR Yaris No, I know he drives for a Honda works team but if they haven't fired him yet they'll probably overlook this. The GR Yaris is a bit of a North American legend because you can legally only get it in Mexico - they're not obtainable in the US. So this is an understated big dick move and maybe what Checo needs is to have a little obnoxious fun, y'know?

Charles Leclerc - Sbarro Super Eight Oh, Charles. Tied up in scarlet. In order to maintain his Maranello-chained brand suffering nothing but Ferrari's finest horsies could do but they're not really in the business of making mean little things to hoon. Unless you consider the driver academy, I guess. Anyway - the Sbarro Super Eight is a Ferrari 308 V8 engine in the body of the kind of vehicle you can get insured on under the age of 25. It has too much (260) horsepower, it's a little silly and deeply selfconscious. And like il predestinato there is only one in the whole world.

Carlos Sainz Jnr - VW Golf This isn't even a statement about what car he should have, this is a car he does have. Mr Sainz and I may disagree about many things but his opinion that the VW Golf is the ultimate road vehicle is absolutely correct. Anyone who's seen the excruciating DTS segment where he tries to take a McLaren to M&S for a disappointing taco mix purchase will understand why Carlos held on to his Golf, a much better vehicle for picking up some bits. In the words of the man himself: "No Golf, no party"

Lando Norris - Lancia Delta Integrale Mk 2 "la Perla" Anyone with my Instagram recommendations will know in quite some alarming detail which Monegasque petrol station Lando uses to fill up his collection of sports cars. Weird fan paparazzi behaviour aside, the man likes buying unique cars and clearly isn't above something quirky given the Fiat Jolly. The Delta Integrale "la Perla" 1) sounds a bit like a sex toy in a way I think he'd find amusing, 2) is rare, with a totally impractical pearlescent white paint job for something ostensibly intended to hoon. It's expensive, semi-unique (allegedly only a few hundred were made) and a little bit silly, with plenty of rally-proven power and drive to muck about with.

Oscar Piastri - Honda City Turbo Oscar seems like the kind of guy who doesn't care too much about appearances. Not in the sense he looks bad - he very clearly does not - but like, lot of rumpled shirts in his wardrobe he's not bothered about ironing, y'know. So it fits that he'd need a hot hatch that does the job more than it's about aesthetic. The things I know about Oscar are that he likes to spend time with his girlfriend and he learned Japanese at school so I'm diagnosing him with JDM import disease and making sure there's a passenger seat. The Honda City Turbo is a teeny weeny little car that only makes its way into being a hot hatch not a kei car because of the totally unnecessary powertrain. And what a fucking powertrain, straight from the Mugen division into the least likely chassis imaginable. Yes, the car is not the most ostentatious looking thing but it's technically interesting and sick as hell so whatever.

Zhou Guanyu - Renault Twingo 133 Silverstone edition Zhou is a man of immense taste and style. He has a great little cat. He is a national icon in his home country and, frankly, any other. He has spent a lot of his life in Sheffield. Aside from this making him basically an idealised form of bloke, I think this means I can entrust him with the Twingo. Not, it's got to be said, overpowered as a car in its base model (my Mk1 Twingo could boast a 0-62 measured in minutes) Renault have never been able to resist souping it up a bit and for some unlikely series of reasons made a sport version to tie into the 2011 British Grand Prix. I don't even want to know why, now, it's better that it stays a mystery. Anyway, this is a Twingo with unnecessary horsepower and live data feeds the Mk1 would probably have a misfire even considering. It's quirky, comes with plenty of backstory and y'know. Whomst amongst us hasn't been screwed around with by Renault a bit in the past?

Valtteri Bottas - the Suzuki Jimny The Jimny is a car of greats. Deceptively small, it works perfectly in a city or if you need to drive up a mountain to get to a gravel course. loads of room at the back for a bike rack. It's practical, a little odd-looking in a charming way and everyone's delighted every time they see one. You can definitely get your ass out in this vehicle. Is it a hot hatch? Probably not but you don't get to define how the Jimny lives its life.

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secretcatpolicy · 1 month ago

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Another alfa for your enjoyment, here's the 155 V6 Ti.

This is Hot Wheels Boulevard No. 55, released in 2022, the debut release for this casting. The car is a racing variant of the car, obviously, and raced in the DTM series. This livery is a recreation of the 1993 car driven by Nicola Larini for factory team Alfa Corse, who won the series that year and took the car to first place in 11 of the 22 races. This is a record which has never been surpassed.

I've got to admit I have never really clicked with Alfa Romeo. There are numerous really cool Alfas, but Alfa Romeo are a pretty general manufacturer with a broad range, and there's little overall coherence to the marque that really creates a particular identity that a lot of other manufacturers manage to give their cars. However, I think this model brought me a little closer to what attracts people to Alfas.

To my eye the 155 is typical of many Alfa Romeos in that it's not a very special car in everyday road car form; perfectly OK and a lot better than many cars, but not especially a car that you'd notice. My particular enthusiasm is for rally cars, a field Alfa Romeo have not particularly dominated. What interests me with rally is the idea of taking an everyday car and developing it, elevating it, improving it to reach speeds and cross terrain it was never meant to, to become something recognisable and yet utterly unlike what it began as, to entirely transcend what it was intended to be. Touring car racing generally begins with more high-end cars so it doesn't really strike me in the same way usually, but that transcendent spirit is visible in this 155.

It feels underdoggy and raw as a racer, and has the same energy for me as the Metro 6R4, an everyday car turned into a rampaging beast with a boxy ugly bodykit, lunatic V6 and 4WD. And as I read further about it, I learned that it inherited much of the internal workings of what is probably my favourite "if-you-could-only-have-one" car, the Lancia Delta Integrale, itself a serial winner and holder of a never-bettered record in rallying. Accordingly, I pay a lot more attention to Alfas now.

This is a really good model, and a great example of what premium Hot Wheels ought to be. Not only is the cross and Biscione livery gloriously detailed and, fuzzy rear quarter Alfa Corse graphics aside, beautifully sharp, the car has multiple parts, including a printed spoiler and a really great full roll cage piece too, like they used to in the good old days. I love a good roll cage!

Isn't it a brilliant piece of work, though? This is what a premium model should be. It also shows why I routinely open up my cars - to appreciate the fine workmanship fully and add some extra touches to the interior that really make it shine, like the 12 o'clock mark, seatbelts, handbrake and fire extinguisher (I did wonder about a shade band, but I'm unconvinced). If only all premiums were this well made, they might start to approach value for money.

#diecast #model cars #hot wheels #Boulevard #Alfa Romeo #155 V6 Ti #DTM #underdog energy

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girlbloggersfolly · 9 months ago

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DELTA DAWN - part 1 // Camp Woodrow

Pairing: camp counsellour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: Explicit (not yet but it will be) 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) After making a spontaneous trip northwest to a summer camp in need of staff with a few new friends, you find not everyone is so welcoming.

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), a whole lot of me waffling, extreme slow burn enemies to lovers ect ect ect, swearing, drug use, cigarettes, complicated relationship (not joel and reader.. yet), perv!reader, f!masturbation. absolutely NO use of y/n, reader has hair that can be put in a ponytail, and she can swim duh. This chapter is very tame, basically, just setting it up.

a/n: ok wow this is exciting, first chapter done and i'm pretty happy with it. Just a warning, i really mean it when I say slow burn, there will be no fluffing around at alllllll for a couple chapters, i'm not sure where i'm taking this or how long it will be, i'm thinking maybe 4? anyway enough chatter there'll be enough of that in the fic, if your reading this i love you sooooo much!!!!!!!

Camp Woodrow 1979

The Knack blasted from Sharon’s stereo, smoke plumed from Billies Joint, you’d been driving for a night or so. Mid-morning sun streamed through the windows, it was a brackish heat you had been getting all too used to. You’d met Billy, Sharon and Abel in Salt lake city at a gig, and now you were pleasantly stuck with them for the rest of summer. The drive from Salt lake city to Oregon was long, even longer in Sharon’s dads Buick which hadn’t seen the inside of a mechanic’s since 71’. The three of them had been working at Camp Woodrow each summer since they were, what was it? 15? Somehow they’d managed to persuade you to pack up your whole new life of groupie love and tour buses into a beat up Buick, taking the scenic route up to Oregon for a long, stagnant summer of campfires and controlled water sports, organised fun. You’d made the mistake of mentioning to Sharon you had lifeguard training; there and then it’d been decided you’d be the perfect replacement for their good friend Woody, who usually took the role of Lifeguard in camp, he was off in L.A, having made a name for himself in adult film. It was a long story you’d heard each salacious detail of.

It’d been a total coincidence, meeting the three of them. You’d let some girlfriends drag you to a gig in a shifty basement venue (Billies band’s place (who weren’t nearly the legendary group they thought they were)) and had been… charmed by Billy… You’d fucked, he was just okay at it but he was easy on the eyes, knew a good dealer and it was cool to tell people you were fucking a hotshot ‘rock star’, even if he was less than generous in the bedroom. Soon you were fast friends with the whole group of them, groupies and all. So here you were, head in Billies lap, high off the broken sun on your face and second hand smoke, his hand drumming along to Doug Fieger’s voice on your bare stomach. You’d hitched a ride in Sharon’s dad’s car with her, Billy and her ‘it's complicated’ Abel.

“Are we there yet?”

Billy coughed through a cloud of smoke, yellow tinted sunglasses making him look all the pretentious rocker he wished he was.

“Can you open a fucking window, do you know how hard it is to get that smell out these seats?”

Sharon said through agonising chomps of that wad of gum she’d had in her mouth since they’d driven through Boise. Billy cranked open the window. The hideous thrum of wind on the highway beating through the static air of the car. Your hair whipped around furiously and you sat up, stirred from the holy-half-high state.

“Happy?” Billy said over the obnoxious sound of the engine and the wind. Sharon scoffed loudly over the sound. “I asked when are we going to fucking be there.” He spluttered yet again over his joint, smirking at you while he complained like a child to a very frustrated Sharon. “It’s just down the next turn,” He said, looking at the map in Abel’s lap, he was more focused on the magazine in his hands, you peaked over his shoulder, a sexy nun, the big, hot pink letters ‘TEASE’ haloing the cover.

“We’re lost,” Billy hit his head back against the window, gosh he could really be a baby sometimes, you remarked internally, increasingly tired of the whole ‘Billy’ thing, a sticky situation you’d gotten into. The car broke into complaints, Sharon, searching frantically for the inconspicuous turning and little wooden sign to Camp Woodrow, stationed at the mouth of lake Calgonie. They’d eagerly shown you their collection of polaroids from the camp in the first few hours of the drive. It was exactly as you’d imagined, a classic all-American summer camp, straight from a gnarly slasher flick.

“Motherfucker!” Sharon retaliated triumphantly as she manoeuvred the cranky old Buick down the sharp dirt road turning Camp Woodrow 500 yards. Bullseye. The road was almost too narrow, lined with unruly trees, leading up to the clearing in the dense foliage. Billy threw his joint out the window, stretching so his shirt rode up, showing off that lean torso that he was so damn proud of, flashing you a movie star grin. You tucked your hair behind your ears, putting your chuck taylor’s back on after the drive. You knew you all stunk of weed and BO.

The car came to a pained, screeching halt in a makeshift parking lot. There were two cars parked in the other ‘spaces’, you noticed a blue Ford F-100 pick up, covered in mud and dust, your dad had one of those. Sharon let out a suggestive moan as she stretched, slamming the door behind her so hard you thought it might fall off. You all followed after her, Billy’s arm over your shoulder proudly, as if he was the one who’d just driven for 10 hours instead of whining the entire drive. You told yourself to just get over it, the summer was too long and too hot to hold onto this strange resentment you’d been harbouring for him as of late.

“Hey Abel! Sharon!” You heard from behind you, spotting a man you hadn’t seen before. He was shorter and well built, had a groomed moustache and lustrous black curls. “Tommy!” Sharon squealed, The pair embraced. You took the chance to get acquainted with your surroundings, turning away from the reunion to the woods behind you. Beautiful, it really was. You were a city kid, a suburban mole, so any chance at kindling some kind of a relationship with nature had you jumping at the opportunity, even if it meant dealing with children - Billy included. Trees as far as you could see, as high as you could see, the air clearer than you’d known it in the weeks you’d spent with these stoners.

“You remember Billy,” Abel said to Tommy, motioning to the boy next to you, who waved in his wanton fashion; too cool to put any effort into something as taxing as a wave. “Of course,” Tommy put his hands on his hips, it was hard to forget Billy. “And who’s the lady?” Tommy grinned, sauntering over, offering his hand to shake. Before you could introduce yourself, Sharon did it for you, telling him your name, which he repeated to himself. “She’s Woody’s replacement… lifeguard.” Sharon added, showing you off like an action figure. You fiddled with the hem of your denim shorts absentmindedly. “Ahh, lifeguard,” He had a firm handshake, making polite eye contact, you knew you’d get along with him. “It’s so nice to meet you, I’m super excited to get started.” You said warmly, the words falling from your mouth in something like a croak, you realised you’d hardly spoken for the entire drive, absorbed in tireless thought. Tommy clapped his hands together and turned to Abel and Sharon, then back to you and Billy.

“Well the kids are coming tomorrow, so, should give y’all time to settle,” He gave a little talk, friendly, he was what a camp manager should be, what you expected him to be. It immediately settled you, but the dead weight of Billy’s arm on your shoulders, tying you to him, was a constant jarring reminder of the mess you’d got yourself into with him.

The path to the camp staff cabins was a pretty one, scenic, you listened to your own steady breaths merging with the sounds of the forests. Billy walked ahead of you, his own suitcase swinging as him and Abel laughed their way into their own cabin. Separated by gender, convenient for yourself. Sharon lit a cigarette and grabbed the bottom bunk. You guessed it was so she could sneak Abel in and fuck him a little less conspicuously.

You sat on the top bunk, staring up at the damp ceiling, smoking a cigarette and listening to Sharon tuning a little radio, she cursed over the static.

In the evening you and Sharon decided to take a walk, leaving the boys to turn their cabin into a gas chamber, the forest stunk of them. “C’mon Lifeguard,” Sharon taunted, grinning at you through her cherry chapstick-ed lips. You took it all in, the forest, which opened up to Lake Calgonie.

“Holy shit,” You breathed as you stepped out onto the dock, the sun was setting over the trees, casting a vibrant orange hue over the lake. Your trance was broken by the click of Sharon’s Polaroid camera, the whir of the picture being processed. “It’s something, huh?” She nodded, somewhat proud of the landscape. “This is-” You started, unsure of the right word for how you felt, a little stoned from earlier, weary from the drive, muscles aching, brain heaving from the whole Billy thing, in complete awe of the situation you were in, impossibly, fucking happy. “Is it deep?” You turned to her, realising she was taking a picture of you. Click, Whirrrrr.

She fanned the two polaroids for a bit, tucking them in her bra, a trick she’d giggled about a few weeks ago. “Yeah, gets pretty deep in the middle,” She shrugged, more absorbed in the development of the polaroids she’d taken of you. She noticed the curious, awe-struck look on your face.

By the time you and Sharon returned to the camp the fire was blazing, crackling pleasantly, Billy, Abel, Tommy and an older lady. “Now, I know it wasn’t you two dumbasses who got the fire started,” Sharon landed the playful jab as she planted herself on Abel's lap, announcing her arrival the way she always did, her laugh echoing through the forest. Billy shuffled up to make space for you on the log, his arm around you in seconds, you were sure that that fucking arm would break your damn shoulder soon from how much he rested there.

“Hey where’s Joel?” Billy asked suddenly. You were only half listening, now the fully developed polaroids were being flashed at you; it was you looking over your shoulder in candid surprise, engulfed in the flashlight and the rich sunset from behind, like a deer in the headlights. “Well what’s he doing in his cabin?” Billy said loudly with a cocky chuckle.

You tuned him out, letting your brain run away with itself, watching as the older woman examined the polaroid that Sharon was passing around for admiration. “Beautiful ain’t she,” Sharon quipped, shooting you a playful wink as she peered over the older woman’s shoulder at your picture. Tommy poked at the fire, blowing at it expertly, so this was the country man. “Oh, this is Lou by the way,” Tommy nodded towards the bright eyed older woman, “She’s one of our senior camp leaders, and our chef,” He said with a tight smile towards you, clearly the introduction was pointed. It was dark now, the faces of your friends and acquaintances lit up by firelight, illuminated in the orange.

“Hey I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You whispered to Billy, waiting for him to direct you. “It's between the weird tree, with all the branches, remember? and the bigger Cabins, showers there too.”

It was the first time you’d been alone for a couple days. As much as you were charmed by your fast friends, a long lonesome walk to the john was very much needed. Abel’s lighter, you'd borrowed one night from his coat pocket, clicked to life in your hand, the small flame lapping at the cherry end of your cigarette as it hung between your lips. You walked slowly to prolong your time alone, admiring the trees, listening to the forest by night and the gentle padding of your sneakers across the dirt.

After relieving yourself in the makeshift hut you wondered if you could even call a ‘bathroom’, you wandered as slowly as possible down the path, blowing plumes of smoke into the still night, feeling the trees sigh around you. You imagined what your parents were doing right now, sitting in their condo in Cedar city, probably off to bed. You rarely thought of them anymore.

You were brought to a standstill by one of the larger cabins, you took a drag of your cigarette and stood watching the window. You suddenly felt like a complete peeping tom; a man appeared in the window, not a man, a wife-beater clad god. He paced up to the edge of the room, giving you time to properly take him in; a quality of moustache you’d only seen in porn flicks, a soft, yet muscular torso, paired with arms that looked like they could snap Billy in two. You let the cover of nightfall mask the growing warmth on your cheeks. He stretched, wife beater riding up to reveal the unruly outline of a happy trail. Jesus christ. He was older, that was obvious enough, late forties? early fifties? You tucked your lips into a thin line, gazing at him, feeling like one of the fucking creeps you so often complained about and really not caring.

“Who is that guy?” You mused to Sharon back in the cabin, as she went through her skincare regiment in the janky little mirror, your limbs draped down from the top bunk like a fancy throw rug. “What guy?” She said, the tube of moisturiser taking up her full attention. “I ran into this guy when I went to pee? Moustache, in his forties, maybe fifties?.” You were like a teenager again, batting your eyelashes up at the ceiling. “Joel?” She cooed, turning to face you abruptly, clearly she had the same idea, you’d pulled her attention now. “You met Joel?” She seemed very impressed by this, but met was a strong word, you’d watched him in his cabin for a minute or so. You suddenly felt like this was something you shouldn’t have done, for whatever reason, maybe it was that sultry look in her eye all of a sudden, the accusatory tone in her pouty mouth. “Mhmm” You hummed warily, sitting up to look down at her from the top bunk. She scoffed, massaging her skin “Joel’s Tommy’s big brother, he runs the camp with him, total hunk right?” She teased. It made sense, Joel had looked like his brother, taller you thought, a little rougher around the edges. “How come he wasn’t at the fire?” You pictured him in his cabin, all alone. You now remembered Billy asking for him earlier. “He’s not the biggest fan of um, Billy and Abel, caught them sneaking in these girls, y’know, getting high a couple years ago, but they were like 17, like he’s had it out for them for a while.” This story didn’t come as a surprise, you imagined a young Billy and Abel getting caught smoking pot with girls by the lake. “It’s really only thanks to Tommy that we were allowed back, Joel would’ve gotten rid of them a while ago, wouldn’t’ve been outta line to either,” Sharon rambled on, all you could think about were those broad shoulders, the curve of his aquiline nose, it was a perverted stereotype you didn’t mind filling, young girl absolutely taken by an older man she most definitely could not have. “It’s a shame, he’s so fucking hot,” Sharon said as she pursed her lips, applying a healthy amount of lip balm to her pout.

Camp LIFEGUARD t-shirt on, little red running shorts that covered next to nothing, chuck taylors to match, another pair of Billies big brown sunglasses on your nose, you were every bit the summer camp lifeguard. Tommy had your lifeguard certificate and paperwork, breakfast had been a breeze, it was all ready. The kids were arriving in the afternoon, so you had the morning to scope the place out alone, leaving Sharon with the guys and taking the path to the lake.

The lake was invigorating as you dipped your toe through the strangely still surface, chuck taylor’s, socks, shirt, glasses and the little metal whistle all bundled into a polite little pile on the edge of the dock. You sat down, taking a deep breath and splashing your feet gently in the water, the tiny ripples lapping back at your calves. It truly did feel like a movie to you, clad in that red, lifeguard swimsuit, hopefully catching some sun.

The morning was pleasant, if a little humid. As warm as it gets in the pacific northwest, you basked in the quiet of the lake, sliding slowly into the water. It was eerily calm after the recent chaos that had become your beloved life.

You hadn’t swam leisurely in a while, not in a lake for even longer. You avoided the silty bottom by pushing off immediately to the middle, planning to test just how deep this lake was. It was strangely clear, you could see the bottom for a while, but as you swam out, below you it was just your flailing limbs treading in the dark blue. The hum of a boat engine broke the trance you’d been under all morning, snapping into consciousness as a small speedboat made its way around the lake, right up close to where you were treading water. You hadn’t seen it from the dock, hadn't noticed any waves.

It came to a quick halt, splashing water in your face. “Motherfucker” You spluttered as you spat out lake water. You wiped your eyes and shielded them from the sun to see who this obnoxious, nautical asshole was. He looked down at you, crouching, silhouetted by the sun.

“You shouldn’t be swimming without a lifeguard.” As your eyes adjusted to the bright light you identified the asshole: Joel, your blood ran colder than it already was. You could see him better now, dark glasses on, those sun kissed forearms, his slightly sun bleached STAFF t-shirt, that low, southern voice still unbearably charming, pouring over you like molasses even when he was being cold.

You realised you were staring and looked to your left at the dock. “Sorry, sir,” You started, hoping he’d appreciate the formality, “I am the lifeguard,” You grinned up at him with a saccharine bat of your eyelashes, really trying to appeal to the sexiest man you’d ever seen. He was still staring down at you in the water, sunglasses giving away nothing.

He let out a short scoff, obviously not amused. “Well what happens when you drown?” He said coldly, he did not seem at all charmed by that killer grin you flaunted so well, so you let it drop ever so slightly. Maybe you couldn’t kill him with kindness? “No lifeguard out to save your ass,” He looked down at you pointedly, still crouched beside you like you would’ve done with a kid that dived in a no dive pool.

“I’m a strong swimmer.” You cocked your head, he scoffed again, shaking his head in casual disbelief. You were too absorbed in working out whether he looked more like Burt Reynolds or Tom Selleck. “I don't care how strong’a swimmer you are, missy,” He retaliated quickly, your lips parted in slight surprise, you weren’t used to people being even slightly unpleasant to you, thanks to your people pleasing.

“I'm sorry?” You said in the wake of your surprise.

“Look, lifeguard, I’m gonna ask you to strongly swim back to the dock right about fuckin’ now,” He stood up to his full height chuckling at you in that southern baritone, again darkened to a silhouette by the sun. You remembered how good his muscular body looked in that wife beater, his goddamn broad shoulders, then pushed the thoughts from your brain, it was fucking embarrassing, you batting your eyelashes and grinning at him like he wasn’t reprimanding you.

After hastily making your way back to camp, a complete state, your cheeks annoyingly hot with embarrassment and a sinking feeling that you could only call ‘horny’, you caught up with the rest of the guys. They’d somehow got the radio set up and were sitting around it outside the boy’s cabin like moths to a light, Buffalo Springfield was playing softly, the sound slightly subdued, broken by static every so often.

You leant on the wall beside them, trying to collect yourself after whatever the fuck that was. “How's the water temp, sugar,” Billy landed a light slap on your ass. You couldn't even look at them, afraid to see your own flushed reflection in their tinted sunglasses. “Tepid.” You heard yourself say absentmindedly. You knew two things for sure, Joel was an enigmatic pain in your ass; another to add to the ever growing list. The other, he had you wrapped around his little finger, you hated yourself for it, but hated him more. “I need a dart,” You sighed, keeping your eyes on your feet as Billy lit your cigarette.

The kids arrived intermittently once Abels casio read 15:00, hoards of them, and quickly. Bumbling groups of girls and boys, completely feral. You silently thanked god that all you'd be doing was watching them, making sure none of their little heads stayed underwater for too long, leaving the morale-boosting, camp spirit stuff to your friends and the other staff. Luckily no water sports on the first day, so you were free to lounge around without worrying about some kid dying on your watch.

You sort of wished you had a way to get your mind off the whole Joel thing, it really shouldn't have gotten to you as much as it had. But there was something about the whole thing, something simply despotic about the way he looked down at you, ordering you about, it fucking jarred you all afternoon, distracting you even from Billy’s hand on your ass.

The next time you saw Joel that day he was with a few kids, a couple suitcases tossed over his shoulders, a big grin on his face as he spoke to them, it wasn't mocking, wasn't charged with some quick-witted comment that he’d make sure really stung, it was paternal, sweet. You don’t know why you thought he’d be cold to everyone.

Damn kids didn't know how good they had it as he made them laugh, beaming with child-like enthusiasm. “Who’s that?” You asked Billy quickly, as if you didn't know full well who that was, as if he hadn't been the only thing on your frazzled, embarrassed mind. Billy scoffed, watching Joel just as intently as you had been. “That’s Joel Miller,” he said that name with more passion than you’d ever heard him put into anything, “Him and I don’t get along so well, sweets,” He nodded, you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at these pet names he’d been experimenting with. You tuned out the rest of Billy’s moaning, regretting even asking him, the phrases ‘Grade A asshole’ and ‘hypocrite’ were tossed around quite senselessly.

You needed a shower, everyone did but you weren't going to be the one to tell them that. With a crispy towel in hand and Sharon's flip flops you haphazardly made your way through the dark forest, the kids all in their cabins, staff eating round the campfire. Sharon said she'd meet you there in 20, at least one other person in this damn place knew when they needed a shower. The shower shack was something you’d have to get used to. Even in the abysmal water pressure, even with the ceiling completely caked in cobwebs occupied by creatures you really did not like the look of, the hot water was balm. It washed the smell of the lake off of you, and the dizzying BO you’d gotten used to in the last few days, cleaned off that lingering scent of pot from your skin.

You sang quietly to yourself, an Elvis song that'd been stuck in your head all week. “Your kisses lift me higher,” you scrubbed yourself with the ratty bar of soap you’d found in Sharon's wash bag, the song falling out of you at an increasingly enthusiastic pace, volume rising as you let the water infiltrate your scalp.

“I just might turn into smoke but i feel fine,” Billy was not an Elvis fan, never had been, but that didn't stop you from humming along every time he entered your brain. You heard another shower start and Sharon getting in, not for one second stopping the music falling out of you. You weren't a particularly gifted singer, but in the shower that never mattered. After singing the song countless times you turned off the water. “Just a hunk’a burnin love,” You hummed, the cool night air causing your skin to goose pimple, your nipples to harden as you wrapped your body in the itchy little towel that really didn't do much to cover you up.

You lit a cigarette as you stepped out, deciding to wait for Sharon outside the showers as she’d instructed earlier, admiring your reflection in the clouded mirror, wiping them clear. “Hurry up, fuckin’ cow,” You chuckled, raising your voice over the sound of the shower that was still going. Like a spell, it stopped, for once she was feeling nice.

"‘Bout time,” You giggled as you combed through your hair with your fingers, cigarette hanging precariously from your lips. You didn’t look away from your reflection as you grabbed your toothbrush from the pocket of your shorts which lay in a little discarded pile beside the sinks. “It's like being at The Westgate, Las Vegas,” The familiar voice chuckled, that condescending comment about your spectacular rendition of Elvis’ ‘burning love’ going right over your head in favour of utter shock and realisation, which hit like a ten ton truck.

You practically spun on your heels to see a smirking Joel Miller shirtless, a towel slung carelessly around his hips. The wind was knocked out of you as you let your eyes linger on his torso, just how fucking built he was, beaded with water, his chest sprinkled with hair matching that on his face. Holy shit.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror, hugging the towel tighter to your body, scooping up the toothpaste you’d jetted all over the sink from squeezing the tube in your state of shock. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. “Thought you were Sharon,” You said shakily to the sink as you washed the toothpaste from your fingers, your voice now lacking the confidence it’d possessed when you called Joel Miller a ‘fucking cow’. You felt like slamming your head through the mirror right about now, not daring to check if the heat that had spread across your cheeks was visible. “Thought you were Elvis,” He quipped, ever the witty bastard, pulling out a small razor and some shaving foam, clearly he was planning on staying.

You took a drag of your cigarette to pull yourself back to earth. “You make a habit of sneaking up on girls in the shower?” You heard yourself say, like your mind hadn’t turned into that of a perverted teenage boy after you saw him last night.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” So he knew he was hot shit, standing there more naked than you were comfortable with in that moment, that towel doing very little to distract you from the fact he was right there, all of him, rubbing shaving foam on his jaw. “You're too old to be talking like that,” you said coldly through your dead-pan, the biting words lacking the fire you intended for them. He chuckled slightly, his low voice almost a growl, reverberating through you as you attempted to squeeze your toothpaste onto the toothbrush without making another mess. “Definitely Billy’s girl,” He said to himself as he held his razor up to the light.

Now that was too far, you turned your face to him, lips parted into a half-hearted scowl as you watched a couple droplets fall from his hair, you held on to the little towel for dear life. “What's that supposed to mean,” You shook your head in disbelief, that had truly been a low blow. “Well you are ain’ch’ya?” He shrugged, bringing the razor to his cheek, you said a silent prayer to god that his hand would slip. “No,” You said after a moment's hesitation. Billy wasn’t your guy and you certainly weren't his girl, he was a friend you sometimes, reluctantly let hump you until he finished. “He know that?” Joel scoffed, suddenly very talkative, you hadn't expected that from the authoritarian asshole who’d scolded you this morning, now a scintillating asshole. “Seemed awful comfy this even-” You cut him off quickly. “It's none of your business Joel,” you snapped, turning back to look at your glassy reflection.

This man would be the death of you; all of this, and now another mouth to ask you about Billy. “Billy’s a prick,” Joel said casually as he shaved his face, it almost startled you, the first thing you agreed with him about. “Aren't you perceptive?” The sarcasm rolled out of you, prompting another of those short, patronising chuckles from Joel.

“What's the appeal then?” It was a good point, why did you hang around with Billy when you could admit that the kid was a complete dickwad. Was it those looks? the way people seemed to gravitate towards his obnoxious laughter? It was all embarrassingly shallow.

“We hang in the same circles,” You shrugged, now completely absorbed by watching Joel shaving so expertly, still hoping your prayer would be answered. “Is he a good fuck?” Joel asked brazenly, not looking away from his own cold expression in the mirror as he cleaned up his moustache, your breath caught in your throat and you stamped out your cigarette on your ratty sneakers to disguise your prudish shock.

The answer was no, a dead no, no matter how much he thought he was. “And there's another thing that's absolutely none of your business,” You began brushing your teeth, glancing at him to see the telling smirk on his lips, that was all he needed to know.

After a much needed break in the conversation you spat out the toothpaste, holding your hair back and running the tap. You turned to leave with the pile of clothes in your arms, you’d rather’ve taken the short journey to your cabin in the little towel than spend another damn second in that room with Joel fucking Miller. “Hey, kiddo,” Joel interjected casually, you turned to look at him with an obedience that made you sick.

“Next time you find yourself peepin’ on me in my cabin, just knock on the door.”

You huffed an exasperated, short breath as you slammed the door to the cabin behind you, happy that Sharon was nowhere to be seen. You changed, cursing Joel under your breath over and over and over again as you pulled one of Billy’s ‘Supertramp’ t-shirts over your wet head of hair. That motherfucker! Where could you even start?

He’d seen you watching him. He’d known all day that you stood in the treeline in the unassuming disguise of nightfall, smoking as you’d watched him get ready for bed. He’d called you ‘kiddo’?! you groaned as you curled yourself into the quilt on your top bunk.

You guessed that Sharon was banging Abel in the next cabin, Billy had probably passed out from a long day of doing absolutely nothing. No matter what you thought about to get your mind off Joel; the image of him shirtless and dripping wet, his quick retaliations, nothing helped. You counted sheep, sang ‘Burning love’ a couple more times through, the shame just didn't wear off. He’d gotten the better of you today, catching you out at all the right moments, embarrassing you over and over again.

Finally, after stalling what you knew would be your only relief after a day like this, you let your hand venture under your panties, touching yourself gently at first, ego too bruised to allow yourself what you really wanted. Soon you were practically crying his name into your pillow, back arching desperately. You’d broken into a slight sweat, lips parting quiet ecstasy as relief washed over you.

You made the decision then and there, it was sink or swim, you weren't going to let today happen again, not let your epic, man-eating reputation be stamped into the dirt by some old washed-up cowboy with an ego for days and some strange Tom-Selleck-esque power over you.

You were going to become Joel Miller's worst fucking nightmare.

PART 2

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller tlou #enemies to lovers #dark!joel #1970s #vintage fanfic #first fic #joel x reader #tommy miller #pedro pascal x reader #reblog maybe #no use of y/n #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller x you

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boostmobiledetailing · 1 year ago

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Car Detailing in Delta

Get your wheels gleaming with Boost Mobile Detailing in Delta! 🚗✨ From exterior shine to interior sparkle, we're your go-to for top-notch car detailing. Elevate your driving experience and book your session today!

#BoostMobileDetailing #Delta #CarDetailing #car care #auto detailing #interior car detailing #mobiledetailing #car detailing #mobile car detailing #interior car detailing near me #pressure washing

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tabscap123 · 6 months ago

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youtube

Yellow Star offers reliable car wash and car detailing services in various locations of British Columbia including Vancouver, Richmond, Delta, Burnaby, West Minster, Surrey, and Vancouver. Our team consists of 50+ members with over many years of experience in the automobile industry. We use cutting-edge techniques and chemical-free products to restore the shine of your vehicle. Quality car detailing services and car wash in Surrey should not put a burden on your pockets. Because of this, we provide all of our packages for mobile car detailing in Surrey at reasonable prices. We provide several options to fit your requirements and price range.

#Car cleaning delta #car wash delta #car detailing and car wash near me #Youtube

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oonajaeadira · 4 months ago

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get to know your moots

@morallyinept and @ace-turned-confused gave me a tag and I will never not play their games. <3

What's the origin of your blog title? I write soft fic and if there's smut it's usually pretty tame and soft, so you should know what you're getting into here.

OTP(s) + Shipname: Kaylee/Jayne always.

Favourite colour: Pastel yellow.

Favourite game: Please come over and play Marrying Mr. Darcy with me. I promise you won't regret it.

Song stuck in your head: I haven't been able to shake "Father Figure" since Babygirl.

Weirdest habit/trait? I need to dry off before putting on clothes. Specifically the panty region. If I don't, it's damp all day, and not in a good way.

Hobbies: Reading and writing fic, reading fiction and non-fiction, arts and crafts of all shapes and sizes, dinking around with musical instruments, video games, board games, going for walks, curating my witch cabinet, listening to podcasts, helping friends do aesthetic interior design, thrift store and online auction trolling, internet shopping, getting ignored by the crows in my neighborhood, and the My Little Pony RPG.

If you work, what's your profession? I support artists. I'm basically a living resource, cheerleader, advisor, networker, etc. I'm also, by rights, an artist myself.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? I have my dream job for now. If the Republicans see fit to leech my profession to dying, then I have two backup plans. If the economy is good, I'm going to pursue a job as a ticketing agent at Delta (or other international airline). If the economy takes a dive? You'll be seeing me apply for training as a death doula.

Something you're good at: Figuring out complicated scheduling.

Something you're bad at: Exercise.

Something you love: Ice cream.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Star Wars. Pedro Pascal. Tarot.

Something you hate: People forgetting that their car is a murder machine--the likes of which is responsible for tens of thousands of deaths every year in this country alone--and that their fkn around could have severe consequences.

Something you collect: Tarot decks. Witchy books. Jewelry. Art supplies. Rocks. Boxes. My old glasses. My old technology.

Something you forget: Plots to movies and shows if it's long enough since I've seen them.

What's your love language? Giving: quality time. Receiving: words of affirmation.

Favourite movie/show: Labyrinth / The Mandalorian

Favourite food: Tacos.

Favourite animal: Red panda.

What were you like as a child? Very short and looked much younger than my peers. I was picked on a lot, had issues at home, and cried most days which exacerbated both of those problems. Played on my own most of the time and had a raging imagination. Loved to read and write stories. Was a good student because, for the most part and despite the bullying, I did like school. I was quiet until you got to know me and then I wouldn't shut up. My stuffed animal collection was my whole world.

Favourite subject at school? I preferred English, orchestra, and the sciences.

Least favorite subject? Math and gym.

What's your best character trait? I lead with compassion. (Unless I'm in a car. If others are making driving choices that are endangering myself or others, I'm bound to be really effing snarky about it and make some very judgmental comments and throw curses. Not swears, CURSES. I'm a witchy girl, yo. I go hard.)

What's your worst character trait? I get ranty and gossipy much more than I'd like.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? I think I'd like it to be warmer than 7 degrees outside.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Pedro when he was in grade school. I just wanna see who he was before he became him.

Recommend one of your favourite fanfics (spread the love!): Lately I've been thinking about Love Triangles by @littlemisspascal a lot. And @something-tofightfor just completed her A Wonderful, Awful Idea series and Imma go and grab something warm in a cup and read the last chapter!

tagging: @littleredpandanaps @fromthedeskoftheraven @rulexofxnines @sixhours @iamskyereads

#tag games

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fishfingersalad · 11 months ago

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Rvb bbc ghosts x buzzfeed unsolved au Leonard “Alpha” Church III and his older sister Carolina Church inherit a creepy manor in the middle of nowhere halfway across the country after their great grandfather Leonard “Epsilon” Church dies of old age (yes Epsilon being their great grandfather is odd, it's for lore reasons).

Church’s college roommate Tucker has a ghost hunting youtube channel (Church edits his videos for him) and decides the manor seems spooky so he tags along to check it out with his co host (Kai) and camera/audio guy (Caboose) as well as Junior. Tex (Churches on again off again gf) comes along to bully them for getting scared, whenever she ends up on the show their views go up so they don’t complain. Carolina doesn’t wanna be stuck alone with Church’s friends so she invites her workout buddy Wash.

Unbeknownst to them, Tuckers “rival” youtube channel (the reds, Simmons is video and editing, Grif is audio, Lopez is in charge of their other equipment) catch wind of their plan to investigate the manor (Kai told Grif who accidentally let slip to Sarge) and they (literally just Sarge) take it as a challenge and they decide (are forced by Sarge) to follow the others to the manor to do their own investigation (Donut flirts with Locus the gas station attendant. This is important to me for some reason). Doc is unofficially part of the red team crew as first aid aka he follows them around bc he's worried about them going to all these abandoned buildings with no medical knowledge

Cw: talk of deaths in some detail, especially fires.

The Manor is actually haunted, by fifteen different ghosts:

Wyoming: 1840’s, fell out a window onto a weathervane

Florida: 1960’s, aspirin overdose

York: 1980’s, car crash, has poltergeist abilities

North: 1850s, arsenic poisoning

South: 1850s, arsenic poisoning

Maine: 1910s, hunting accident, can sometimes be seen as a looming shadow in the dark

Ct: 1940s, military spy, shot

479er: 1960s, pilot, small aircraft crash

AI: 1920s, Children of a rich man who burned his house down while his wife was away with their youngest son, Leonard “Epsilon” Church (age 2 at the time). Delta (17), Theta (7), Eta (11), and Iota(11) died from smoke inhalation, Gamma (15) and Omega (14) were burned, Sigma (18) escaped the fire but succumbed to infection while still on the manor grounds. All of the ai ghosts carry a smell of smoke wherever they go (I have a drawing of them somewhere)

The only ones who can see the ghosts without outside influence (cameras, sensors, that stuff) are Church, Carolina, Wash, Donut, and Caboose, due to all five of them having near death experiences in their pasts, and later Doc after he’s possessed by Omega. Junior is also able to see ghosts though no one is sure why.

Most of the au’s “story” is just silly interactions with the ghosts pranking the youtubers and various shenanigans. Wash deadpan pretends there are no ghosts to annoy both York and Tucker. Junior befriends Theta, Eta, and Iota, which concerns Tucker to no end especially since he tends to act like a horror movie child, all “Daddy, the lady with the hole in her head is in the corner again, daddy my friends with no faces wanna go play outside”. Sarge has a holy water super soaker that he carries everywhere incase of “ghouls”. South takes great joy in tormenting Simmons specifically. York follows the youtubers around and throws things at them, he only uses his poltergeist abilities for mischief. Ct finds a secret joy in sneaking up on Church to make him jump. Donut keeps telling his friends that the ghosts are there and real but none of them really believe him despite York pelting them with random objects. Wash finds a stray kitten and the ghosts are all immediately infatuated and begin following it around. Florida and Donut gossip together. Doc has to figure out how to deal with a rage fueled fourteen year old taking over his body. Tex punches Tucker on camera and it becomes their most popular video to date. Their second most popular video includes Tucker being attacked by Sarge with his holy water super soaker.

I just have so many little silly ideas about them...

#rvb #red vs blue

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hirocimacruiser · 1 year ago

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What are old cars like to drive now?

Mazda Familia 3 door full time 4WD1600DOHC turbo review.

The second generation FF Familia tends to be overshadowed by the success of the first FF Familia. The Familia underwent a Key Concept model change in 1985, and the sports version of the 1.6 (twin cam turbo + full-time 4WD) became popular. Yasushi Shimono drove to Osaka for the later model after minor changes.

Text | Yasushi Shimono Photos Chihiro Abe

The other day, I rented a Familia car in Takamatsu, Shikoku. If you see Nippon Rent-a-Car, Toyota Rent-a-Car, and Nissan Rent-A-Car lined up at the counter in the airport lobby, if you're a car fan, you should probably rent a Mazda Rent-A-Car at this time of year.

It's a personal choice, but the Familia 1500AT I rented was actually very nice. The engine and suspension have the solid feel of a German car, and it feels great. Even though I've already driven over 20,000km, I can barely see any wear and tear.

During my summer vacation two years ago, I took a Familia rental car at the station in Tsuruoka, Yamagata Prefecture, and it was a great ride, and my family was happy with it.

For test drives, members of the media always ride in the manufacturer's so-called PR vehicles.

However, when they later try the same car in a rental car, they are often disappointed to varying degrees. I don't have the space to write about the reasons in detail here, but Familia is an extremely rare example of people rediscovering their charm through rental cars. It feels like a very seriously made car.

I am holding this.

FULLY MASCULINE NOUN CAR

In downtown Osaka, I was given a ride on a nostalgic Familia. 1988 model 3 door twin cam turbo 4W.D. It is a full-time 4WD high-performance model that was part of the second-generation FF Familia series that debuted in 1985.

I splurged on expensive 200,000 yen 0Z racing aluminum wheels for the car I bought this spring. There is a bright red mudflap in the wheel arches.

The guard hangs down. The hobby of the owner, Mr. M (35 years old), who really wants to drive a Lancia Delta Integrale, seems to be depicted on the outside.

The inside can also be customized.

It is. The front seats are BRIDE bucket seats. The handle is MOMO's Prototipo. At the tip of the shift lever is a plastic shift knob that looks like a white ball.

The main body of the 1.6LDOHC turbo engine has not been modified, but the muffler and air cleaner have been replaced with "HKS''. The suspension also uses Mazda genuine sports springs combined with GAB dampers. I'm not Kiyoshi Nishikawa, but I get the strong impression that he was trying to do things one by one, starting with what he could do. Mr. M, who works as a tire wholesaler, is a pleasant young man. It is the year of the year. When I pushed in the tape whose head was peeking out from the set, it played Mr. Children, which doesn't really suit Osaka (?).

However, once it started running, the Familia Integrale was a much more radical car than the standard.

First of all, the suspension is much harder than you might imagine from the specs. The ride quality is almost that of a competition vehicle, reacting honestly to the bumps and undulations of the road surface and transmitting short, jerky vibrations.

I didn't think it was power steering at first either. I slowly turned the steering wheel to turn off the engine and realized for the first time that it had power assist. That's how responsive it is. Basically, the normal engine is so energetic that it's hard to believe. Power is already 140 yen on NET display. However, it is more powerful than the face value, and at the signal Grand Prix the acceleration of all four wheels is like that of a rabbit.

I'll show you.

Even though it is a turbo, it starts to crash immediately after idling.

Delivers comfortable torque. The response in the low rotation range is also not bad. Tachometer red zone from 7000rpm. However, the latest 4-valve It's not as smooth and light as the unit.

It has been replaced with an air cleaner for competition. So, at the top end of 6500 or higher, the engine noise, mainly the intake noise, becomes louder.

Air conditioner control panels, air vents, and

-Dark areas where stereo units, ashtrays, etc. are crowded.

There was a designer who once described the center part of the dash as ``the most expensive part of the car's interior,'' but this car has a panel that says ``FULLTIME 4WD'' embedded in part of it. There is. It was kind of noisy. There is also a shiny silver switch inside the spring, and this is for locking the center differential. The owner once benefited from being muddy.

Apparently there is.

The turbo is effective without any noticeable bumps.

It starts to work, and what's more, it works like a turbo. I miss the way the green snail lights up in the instrument panel every time the turbo kick explodes. What's more, every time I shift up and release the accelerator, I hear the resonant whine of the turbine, which is nostalgic. I wasn't able to do it this time due to time constraints, but I was able to drive on mountain passes and some dirt roads, and it still looked really interesting. Manly and sweaty, a perfect masculine noun.

It's Luma.

Of course, the current Familia, which no longer has a sports model in its lineup, is not such a macho car. However, the Familia has always been a car that has not had a fancy feel to it for generations. Fancy is something like ``a womanly thing that a man has come up with.'' I like the character, which is unusual for domestically produced vehicles, but I'm sure there are people who say that's why it doesn't sell well.

PIC CAPTIONS

The second generation FF Familia underwent a full model change in January 1985. It has a 3/5-door hatch and a 4-door sedan body. Initially, it started with 1.3ℓ and 1.5ℓ NA and turbo units, but a 1.6ℓ turbo unit was soon added. The photo is of the later model. The body size is: total length x width x height = 3990 x 1645 x 1405mm. Wheelbase 2400mm.

The steering wheel has been replaced with "MOMO" and the seat has been replaced with "BRIDE". When the New Familia was announced, the company emphasized the improved quality of the interior, saying, ``If the packaging is the same, the quality of the interior is important.''

With minor changes in 8 years, NA unit

The remaining old E-type units were wiped out and replaced by B-type units. Photo of 1597cc 16V DOHC turbo with 140ps @ 6000rpm and 19.0kgm torque @ 5000rpm

Mr. M's Delta Familia has a majestic red mudguard. The ``GAB'' and ``HKS'' stickers and white OZ wheels clearly reflect the owner's taste.

#Mazda Familia #Familia 4WD turbo #Mazda 323 turbo 4WD

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thekellergirl9 · 2 months ago

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the five points Clayton recorded on 2/25

summary: you watch your boyfriend record 5 points during his hockey game, on of the biggest milestones in career and franchise history

you have a friday night where clayton has the night off and you both decide on date night. and nights off is only time you get to spend with him

Feelings: you are feeling all the Excitement for the record of points your boyfriend just scored, he is excited to share the excitement with you too, but then a friend of yours had an emergency during the game and had to leave early, so it causes you and clayton to get really concerned and worried. you also feel so in love with him.

Notes: it's post game vs Minnisota wild and you cant wait to see clay post game after all the hard work, the career high+ franchise high points he recorded and media interviews he has to do, you and him have a great night at home after the big game at Delta Center. the smile/ smirk on the bench during gives you heart eyes.

as you wait to head to the locker room post game you watch him speak down on the Utah bench, thanking the fans for their support all night long, and can't be more proud of him. hard work pays off!

as you wait in the hallway, you congratulate his teammates on the win, at last. Clay comes from his interview from the bench, you can't help but smile when you see him. " i'm so proud of you baby, what a game!''

"c'mere baby!" he says as pulls you in for a kiss. the kiss ends up being quick. " he then says " i need to do one more interview and hang with the boys, get cleaned up then i'll come find you."

" okay, i'll be waiting for you out here." you say as he heads back to the locker room. it ends up being about a half an hour before he comes back out cleaned up and you see him with a basketball that Bjugy gave him for the crazy record of he set during the game. you ask " do you guys always do that post game?" clayton replies " yes, bjugy called me five piece Mcnuggets before handing the ball to me."

you can't help but laugh and smile, are you for reals that he called your boyfriend that, the giggle gets clay laughing, he then says "yes baby he really did." you then ask how his post game interview went

he says, " it went great baby, i hope we can keep the 4 game winning streak alive." you reply saying i hope so too. you then ask " were you able to shower?"

he replies, " yes i had some time. thankfully i was able to before seeing you, why?" you say " oh i was Just wondering if you did. "

he looks at you concerned all of a sudden. " are you doing okay, is there something wrong?" " baby hey is there something wrong?" he asks. you say yeah there is something wrong. one of our friends that was here at the game to watch you had to leave for some sort of emergency and they didn't text an update you during the game.

you tell Clayton they left early and he gets more concerned asking " did they tell you what happened or did they just get up and leave?"

you say "they said they needed to leave, i didn't hear anymore detail."

then you both decide to head to the car while talking about this, so when did they leave after i scored, baby please talk to me did they leave after i scored? you let out a soft sigh. " yes they did."

"Okay let's call my mom on the way home, and hopefully we will get a text from your friend who watched me tonight, okay baby?"

"okay." you softly reply. clayton then dials his mom after you guys head home from Delta Center, Kelley picks up.

"mom, i know this isnt the kind of call you are hoping to get, but my girlfriends friend who watched me play tonight and set the 5 point record left and my girl didnt get an update why they needed to leave.

" honey, that makes me so worried has she gotten a text from them yet or no?"

he lets out a loud sigh, no she hasn't mom, and i dont think i'll understand why. "

your phone goes off and you tell him softly, " i finally heard back, baby."

"Mmm, are they okay or do they need us? what's wrong?"

you finally say what is wrong, " it was a family emergency, they will tell us in the morning."

as you pull up to the house to chatting with kelley, Clayton tells her what he did during the game over FaceTime, and she gets all excited

" son, i'm so proud of you, i bet your girl is too."

"she is mom, but we are home now and are settling in for the night. "

" alright, son let me know if you guys get an update in the morning."

you head to the bedroom while he finishes up talking to his mom. he realizes you're not on the couch anymore when you guys first walked in.

"i will, i love you mom." he hangs up. he comes to you and you are now crying on the bed. " what's wrong now baby?"

" i'm sorry i should've told you sooner before the post game stuff happened. "hey, it's okay it happens. i'm sure they'll be okay." he says cuddling you

he then says "let's watch a movie, and we can cuddle some more."

you nod and decide that's the best thing to do. then say, " i'm sorry that this ruined our night celebrating the win and your 5 point record."

he then says softly, "oh it's okay baby look we are cuddling now and it's alright."

you then start shivering, he notices and puts the blanket over your shoulders, " is that better?" you nod.

you then start to feel sleepy, but then say "i'm so glad i found a man like you clay. thanks for making me feel so loved and cared for."

he then replies softly, " i'm glad we met too, to make you feel that way is my top priority, i want you to know that i want to always make sure that you are safe and healthy, and happy."

you fall asleep in his arms, and he lays you down on the bed, re putting the blanket on, watching you breathe before laying down himself. and saying " good night, i'll see you in the morning."

now this may not be the night you hope for but the feelings you have felt after the win, you couldn't be more excited for what he did during his hockey game, you sleep great and wake up to find that he has the day off and is making breakfast since it is a friday, and he has the night off.

he asks, " how did you sleep?" you reply softly " Good, how about you?" he replies "good.

" that's good, what should we do tonight since you have the night off?" you ask

he replies, " did you get a text from your friend who left in an emergency last night?"

you reply, " I did, they are just fine." he looks at you being quiet for a minute. "what baby?" you ask. he then says " are they really?"

"yes." you tell him.

"okay, what should we do since i have the night off?"

you reply saying "we should go out, have dinner then come home and watch a movie, does that sound good?"

" that sounds great, i do want some time with my girl, anyway."

"perfect" you reply softly

later that day, and date night goes pretty smoothly and you guys keep talking in the car as you pull up to the house and before you get out he pulls you into a kiss. and the the kiss was so incredible that you don't want to stop. so then you take time to get ready for bed, you let him take a five minute shower, and as you wait for him to get ready, you go and make popcorn, by the time the popcorn is ready, he is on the bed waiting for you.

you're watching a movie in bed when his teammates start texting in the group chat, you notice and ask " what are they texting about?"

he laughs " i think Kess is being a goofball, and is making everyone giggle, i'm not sure why though."

" well tell them that you are currently on a date with your girl and need some alone time."

clayton texts the boys about what you guys are doing and puts his phone on Do not Disturb, for the night.

"oops, i forgot to let our dog out." he says then goes to let the dog out for a few minutes then comes back in after bringing the dog back in.

" now where were we?" you un pause the movie then cuddle.

it's now midnight when the movie ends... and you fall asleep. clay turns the tv off, looks at his messages from earlier before falling asleep.

#clayton keller x reader #utah hockey club #clayton keller #nhl hockey

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