#curved railing systems

[nomaintenancedecks]

Curved Deck Railing System

[saturnsorbits]

Android AU where you purchase a discounted and broken Bakugo model.

He’s got limited movement in his right arm, a faulty ocular system and a series of burns that cover one side of his face and have made the middle of his chest all melted and tacky - the synthetic skin warped like scarred flesh, but he works well enough.

It’s nice, having him around. You cook together. Watch movies. Go on picnics. Hike. Dine out. Visit aquariums and museums. It doesn’t take long for people to start assuming…

Husband. Boyfriend. Fiancé. It’s all thrown round. An endearing misunderstanding that never garners more than a blush, or at least it was, until the feelings started.

It’s a growing debate, if the androids can feel like humans can, but you find yourself at his mercy anyway. You fall for him slowly, but definitely, lost to him in all of the ways you’d never thought possible.

You bottle it, lock it in your chest even when it becomes too much taking you in a choke hold and then one day, you just… Burst.

Ducking under the rail of the park, you cross the wood-chips and toss yourself to the curved rubber seat of the swing. Beyond the small park is the ocean - a small slither of wide open blue that crashes against the walls of the sea barrier before you.

This was your place, just your place and now, now you’re sharing it with him.

He sits on your left, pushing himself with the balls of his feet. In the shadow of the street light with his synthetic blonde spikes spilling over his forehead, he almost feels like a lover - like something more than he can be. ‘I like it here.’

‘I know.’ Bakugo turns, smirks. The social module downloaded into his brain makes it look perfect, tells him the exact angle his lips should stretch to for the chosen effect.

‘There’s something about the sea being so close, it’s…’

‘Calming.’

‘Yeah.’ You sigh, glancing over to Bakugo careful not to look too long. ‘It’s calming.’

‘You wanna know why?’

‘Sure.’

‘My search says it’s due to the broad nature of the sound, as it hits your ear...' He taps your tragus. 'It creates a deep tonal noise, which due to its processing ease in the brain creates a soothing effect.'

'Huh.' It’s strange, hearing him talk like this. Usually, he’s so informal, so blunt and matter of fact it’s strange when all of that wiring in his head kicks back in and has him talking like… Well like a robot.

‘Did it again, didn’t I?’

You chuckle. ‘Sometimes you just talk like we’re worlds apart.’

‘Sorry. I -.’

‘No, no…’ You smile, softly, before reaching over and resting your palm on his thigh.

Bakugo blinks, looking down at the hand wrapping his leg. Gingerly, he accepts it. Entwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes. ‘I…’ His voice is a whisper. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Katsuki.’

Squeezing softly, Bakugo doesn’t lift his gaze when he talks. 'I don't love you.'

You laugh, the cold air stinging your teeth. ‘I don’t love you.’ It’s a half-truth, the emotion caught in your chest might not yet be love, but it’s too close to it for comfort. ‘You don’t have to love me.’

Bakugo breathes deep despite not needing to. ‘I - I don’t feel -.’

You cut him off, eyes wide, a softeness already burrowing into your expression. You can’t imagine what’s it’s like, to be filled with a thing you were born never to have - to be coming alive for the first time. ‘Katsuki… You do. I know that you’re more than just a robot… More than -‘

‘No.’ Bakugo tightens his grip on your hand, flicking his eyes up to meet yours. ‘I can - I do feel…’ He corrects. ‘I just don’t feel for you what you feel for me.’

[cityof2morrow]

NetworkMAT: Streetscaping 001 (Sidewalks & Sewers)

Published: 5-23-2024 | Updated: 7-16-2024 (+hood visibility) SUMMARY “Accentuate the streets, pedestrian paths, and roadsides in your city …” “Rubberall is made from upcycled rubber, metal, and other materials. It's ten and a half times weather resistant as regular rubber and twice a pretty. Order it in bulk today!” “Build a functional water and waste management system in your city…” Another edition to the Network Materials (networkMAT) (Simmons, 2022-2024) series! This modular set includes 80 low poly objects for pedestrian paths, sidewalks, decorative foundations, and other roadside streetscaping. Objects are designed to be used with the Streets of 2morrow (Simmons, 2023) set  - but they’ll work without them just fine. There are also matching neon curb lights. How about functional sewer/water management networks?! You also get a canal, tunnel, deco, and functional items for making your own sewer network. The drains will clear the lot of any unattended puddles and garbage every few hours – visible exhaust rises from them during this process. The utility box and pipes earn the lot owner a small credit at each billing cycle – SimCity rewards good infrastructure!

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §0 and §100-1000 for lights/bollards, §300-1000 for sewer items Build > Architecture/Columns and Buy > Lighting/Plumbing/Electronics > Misc Most objects are repo’d to the BBNiche1Master (BuggyBooz, 2012) and/or Element Repository, which are both in the Repo Pack (Simmons, 2022). Don’t forget to grab some recolors – I recommend the “element” set HERE (Simmons, 2023) for the sewage water/material. See the following tags for more swatches: #co2recolors, #ts2recolors, #ts2repo #co2repo #co2repopack IMPORTANT:

2-click objects are for 2-click/step foundations and foundation pieces are for default foundations/stages. Still – you’ll be able to mix and match in a variety of ways.

You’ll need “move object on/off” and “grid on/off” cheats to place some objects.

Foundation pieces match default foundations/decks which are slightly larger than a 1x1 tile space. They will overlap slightly – so depending on your design, you may want to shift things around with cheats.

Some items are asymmetrical/oversized so they’ll fit better with others in the set and give the paths a bit of a “distressed” look.

The 1x1/2x2 round corners use angled (not rounded) curves; this detail is apparent when you apply solid color txtr’s to them.

Some lights are repo’d to the neon plutonium rod (Nightlife EP) and will use the same light colors.

There is a short tutorial for this set HERE.

ITEMS SIDEWALKS

2-Click Platforms, Planters, and Ramps (12-100 poly) 4-Click Foundations (32-64 poly) Bollards 001-002 (230-262 poly) – Bollard 001 is repo’d to the Plutonium Rod (Nightlife EP) Step Covers (Steps/Ramp) (~18-24 poly) -place with cheats; – center/side pieces work as Rubberall Platform 1x1/2x1 (20 poly) Rubberall Ramp Cover 1x1 (66 poly) Rubberall Corner (Left/Right) (96 poly) Rubberall Curb (14 poly) Just8, 1x1 Transition Curb Left (24 poly) Just8, 1x1 Transition Curb Right (24 poly) Just8, 1x1 Transition Platform (44 poly) Lighting (166-332 poly) Solo, 1x1 Planter (20 poly) Solo, 2x2 Planter (20 poly) Urban Future 4, 1x1 Curb (66 poly) – curb MESH; includes invisible recolor other curbs, curves, corner, and accent pieces (6-305 poly) SEWERS 001

Beam (Deco) (44 poly) Beam (Column) (44 poly) Canal (7x9) (140 poly) Pipes 001-003 (1000-1024 poly) Rails (1-Tile/3-Tile) (115-192 poly) Tunnel (7x9) (448 poly) Utility Box (Functional) (266 poly) – earns the lot owner a small credit for each billing cycle. Utility Wires (896 poly) Zogorman Drains (1x1 /3x1) (42-126 poly) K76 Drains (1x1/2x2/Raised) (728-744 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA COMPATIBILITY Compatible with Shiftable Everything (Lamare, 2022) and Object Freedom (Fway, 2023). Shift trees and garden plants into place before adding the planter pieces. CREDITS Thanks: Sim Shenanigans Discord folks, UV Mapping Tips (Frac, 2024). Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), Dosch SciFi Materials V1.1 (2022; 2009), EA/Maxis; Metal Grate (RBG_illustrations, 2019 via CCA), Modulo_Sewer_01 (Polo_Art, 2022 via Creative Commons Attribution), Modular Sidewalk/Curb Kit (Just8 2022-2023 via CCA), Neon Floor Lamp Add-On (PineappleForest, 2022), Nooks & Niches (Buggybooz, 2012), Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Retro Simlish Font/Simlish Manbow Solid (Adele, n.d.), Rubber Traffic Inspirations (Pewex, 2019), Sewer grate (Katy76 via PC Sims, 2007); Sidewalk (Zogorman, 2018 via CCA), Spawn of Square Stair (Khakidoo, 2007;), Textures (CuriousB, HugeLunatic, 2018; Simmons, 2023; 2010; Stonemason, 2011; Klevestav, 2013; 2010; EA/Maxis); Tree Planter w/ Grate (LordSamueliSolo, 2021 via CCA), Urban Future 4 (Stonemason, 2011).

[limonecat005]

Caelus x You (honkai star rail) spice warning

Your hair cascades like water under the silverlight; your back arched, his hands scaling down your skin bathing in stardust. Sinful words sounding so sweet as his lips caress in every dip, every curve- burning the feeling of you in his memory.

Face in hand, you were sitting on the bed with satin white sheets pooling on your legs. You silently cursed the man sleeping soundly beside you, who turned your entire life upside down overnight. Your eyes trailed the latter's broad back, covered in love bites and scratch marks, and you couldn't help but swallow thickly at the sight.

His arms kept you steady against the wall and your arms find purchase on his back. As he began devouring you, you couldn't help but tighten your grip, afraid you would melt into a puddle on the floor. Pudding meshed mind, you were a goner. Nothing registered in your mind except his touches or the way he manhandled you around since your body was too numb to be controlled by yourself.

Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, your fingers treading through your hair, trying to figure about what to do about this situation. But, your traitorous brain kept on reminding of his uniquely golden eyes which looked at you with desire and his soft ash grey hair that you tugged at by the roots which had him spill soft groans of his own.

"Caelus-!" You gasped as he delved deeper, his hand holding yours to keep you grounded.

You wanted to bang your head on the wall until you bled. Your thoughts were going crazy over him and not once were you able to plan how to deal with the awkwardness later. For once, you hated to be human and having hormones that screwed up with your system.

You groaned under your breath and decided to have a cup of coffee to sober up despite your legs trembling with every movement. And maybe also take a shower. But, before you could get up, a hand on your wrist prevented you from moving.

"Where are you going?" You turned around and watched Caelus rise up slightly from his position, revealing his extremely toned body that was hidden under the sheets.

His bed hair was shaggy in a way that had your heart flip in all directions and his deep timbre morning voice had you in his grasp.

"Good morning," you greeted, albeit hesitantly, your brain short circuiting.

The latter pulled you closer to him and wordlessly wrapped his arms around your body, trapping you in his scent and warmth. His eyes were fluttering shut, but his hands had different ideas as they ran south from your nape.

"Caelus-!" You whisper, flustered as shocks of pleasure traveled through your spine.

"Hm?" He asked, not opening his eyes and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"What is it?" You couldn't answer, letting out a soft moan when his rough hands explored your inner thighs.

You hear him sigh softly. "How is that you manage to drive me crazy everyday?" You felt a kiss and a sharp tug on your shoulder. "Up for another round...?"

[carionto]

Predator mode

Big Thrasher was not a happy camper after his first encounter with Humanity. There is a certain exponential curve to simple ballistic weapons, whereas shields, which start off way above, progress on a geometric line. E in = E out (mostly, some charge is lost in conversion) vs E=MC^2. He learned that the hard way when three of his toughest cruisers were reduced to space dust by, as he later learned to his horror, a mid-sized transport ship using Human standard issue rail cannons.

Someone smart would move on and avoid Humanity. Big Thrasher isn't a complete idiot, but he is a prideful and narcissistic pirate captain. Thus his ability to make sensible decisions is handicapped severely. Now he has made a most dubious one indeed:

Infiltrate a Human science station and steal all their secrets and use them to get sweet, juicy, delicious revenge!

Finding one was disturbingly easy, there's so many of them. Like, at least one for each star system within eighty light years from Sol, one for each planet within thirty, and then it just gets ridiculous within Sol itself. Oddly enough, despite their size, typically there are no more than ten people aboard, almost all Human, only a few are joint Coalition.

Thinking long and hard (something Big Thrasher is not a fan of) he decided on his target - a lone station on the very outskirts of publicly known Human activity and furthest away from any major Coalition systems.

When his reconstructed fleet arrived behind the local gas giant, the station was sitting in mid orbit of the inner rock planet and was broadcasting something strange on open channels - a melodic chant of sorts:

"..live on a Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submari.."

whatever that meant. No matter, Big Thrasher's fleet was moving in on the target, stealth drives on, weapons ready, numbers on their side, element of surprise - the perfect ambush.

...

Where did the station go?

Before Big Thrasher could register neural activity to try and answer that, it appeared. Behind them. And a small explosion happened moments earlier where it used to be, but the main concern was the station firing its stabilizer thrusters to rotate it at incredible speeds, then a long blade slicing one of his ships in two. Then it disappeared again. And another small explosion.

Once more, it suddenly reappeared behind another one of his ships and did the same thing, but this time used its thrusters to quickly move towards the vessel and impale it on a massive spike. Disappear. Small explosion in its place.

Three. Four. Five. They're losing ships by the second. A literal space station sized target and they can't keep track of it, let alone land a single hit. How is it teleporting? What are those explosions?

WHY IS A SPACE STATION ENGAGING HIS PIRATE SPACE SHIP FLEET IN MELEE COMBAT!

WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK TO DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!

WHY IS IT WINNING!?!??!

Big Thrasher once again order an emergency retreat, what remained of his fleet scattered to randomly selected quick hyperjump coordinates, and would regroup in a few weeks time.

_______________________

Aboard the experimental development station Tree of Grating Whispers the crew of seven were hastily putting out fires and trying not to throw up from all the gee forces they just endured, kinetic dampeners be damned.

A few hours later, all in their environmental suits, as the life support system was dead, they convened for an after-action report:

"Right, so, good news and bad news. Good news - short range teleporter works perfectly. Bad news - each unit doesn't teleport with us and just explodes, further data has been unrecoverable so far.

Good news - rapid action thruster and kinetic combat mode works. Bad news - can't have biologicals onboard and even moderately durable systems break after a few swings.

Overall, I'd say this has been a success (unanimous nodding). Let's get to working out the kinks and we'll have a presentable version for the military. We'll also have to thank those pirates for not masking their engine heat trails, this was a great field trial guys, real proud of everyone!"

The chief says, while high on painkillers (and so is the rest of the crew), as another part of the station self-immolates.

[darkdemeter]

WORST FUR WEATHER

IMAGINE... REUINITING WITH WANDA AT THE APARTMENT AFTER BEING EXPOSED TO A SEX POLLEN

Wanda Maximoff x GN/Female/Male Werewolf Reader

— READ BELOW THE CUT AT YOUR OWN RISK

The rain pelts harder now, your fur drenched, slick with the droplets that now run rivets down the curvature of your muscles. Your tail swishes from side to side in your hungering curiosity, the power in your haunches holds you atop the balcony’s railing. 

Your head is bowed and turned to your side before it raises up, nose twitching in resistance to the rain drops trying to hinder the alluring scent in the air, coming from inside the apartment. Her body is sudden to flinch, the muscles and nerves twitching in a response to fight or flight, when your hand lowers and your head rises; turning your gaze inward to the apartment.

Wanda stares with her mouth agape, the way your amber eyes beam hotly against the glass, reflective orbs dancing over the wide window panel as you tilt your head slightly. 

Her eyes travel downwards, following the flowing river that leaves you soaking wet. A flutter takes over her stomach then. The way your eyes search through the glass pane, she wonders if you’re able to see her completely or if you only take notice of your own reflection. To test her theory, she moves slowly, her body moves around one of the couches. 

Your head ever so slightly moves along with her. You can see her. 

Your eyes analyse her through the barrier between you both. The dark stockings that hug her thighs tight to the point that the exposed skin at the top of her thighs is only visible by an inch before the rest is hidden beneath her scarlet dress. In your wolf mind, you’re left to the primal beauty of your unsatiated fantasies. 

With a husk-drawn growl, your muzzle wrinkles to bare your elongated teeth, the heat of your body only increases as she nears closer to the glass. 

One powerful leg stoops down off the ledge, muscles flexing as the pads of your pawed feet scuffing against the balcony’s floor. Wanda’s eyes watch with an infectious intent and delight, her chest rises and forces her breasts to push up with a deep breath. 

Seeing her lungs deflate, you can read her sigh of relief. 

���I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” she says behind the glass, pressing a hand up, reaching out for you. Your other leg moves down and you stalk forward, the rain that ran down your form follows you in a wet trail. 

“But you’re here…,” she gasps, “you’re alive.”

An obscurity paints itself on the glassy surface when your hot breath hits it, misting over the outline of her hand. 

She notices how your fiery eyes rake up and down her form and she’s reminded of what toxic chemical attacks your system. The mound juncture between your powerful, muscular thighs also proves just how far along since it’s invaded your body. 

But strangely enough, you appear… calm. It brings a cause of curiosity, your calmness, and Wanda tilts her head to the left slightly and leaves the curve of her neck exposed.

That’s when she sees that composure leave you at the drop of a hat. The formation of your browline scrunches and your muzzle wrinkles into a snarl, you snap your jaws with a growl at the glass, your claws hatch aggressive lines into the window’s surface. She’s taken aback and stumbles, backing away from the window a few steps. 

When she looks again, between your legs at the pitifully aroused location, her breath becomes light and short lived in her lungs, a slickness pools between her thighs, threatening to drool and seep out from her panties. Wanda’s often fantasised about you fucking her raw and hard until she cannot take it any longer many times - in your human form - but now, all she can conjure in her mind is the desirable idea of having you take her like this.

And the way your eyes linger on her form in hunger does little to ease her own for you.

She hears the muffled tone of your guttural purr, "Let me in, Little Lamb..."

— — — —

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST — @alexawynters @alyciaddict

[kingdaddydaichi]

Need a quick break from writing for Daichi. Let me get this out of my system then I'll go write another 10k words for my King Daddy...

k. bokuto x reader (fem)

nsfw. mdni. size kink.

I just KNOW Bokuto has a size kink! I’ve always hc’d that he likes short girls. And I don’t mean just girls who are shorter than him bc that’s…well pretty much all of them. I’m talking about girls who are like 5’4” or less. The closer to 5’0” the better in his book.

Bo thinks it’s the cutest thing when you tug on shirt and pout up at him when you want to give him a kiss.

His heart swoons when he leans down to kiss you and you stand on your tippy toes bc it shows him that you’re doing your best to meet him halfway.

The first time y’all are at a concert together and Bo can see over everyone’s heads, and he notices you standing on your tip-toes, craning your neck this way and that trying to see over people’s shoulders. Then he squats down so you can sit on his shoulders with the back of his neck between your legs. And when he slowly stands up to give you a better view, your eyes light up and you're like Princess Jasmine when she sings 🎶 IT’S A WHOLE NEW WORRRRLD 🎶 “so THIS is what the world looks like from almost 9 feet up!”

In typical himbo fashion, Bo has been known to scan the area wherever y’all are, looking for you and when he calls your name, you flatly say, “down here, Bo.” And he looks down while the biggest grin graces his sweet face bc he’s just so happy he found you. “Hey, baby! I thought I lost you there for a second!”

When he’s hitting it from behind, it turns Bo on to no end to be able to hunch all the way over you and give you little love bites on the back of your neck. He can kiss you without straining with his arms right next to yours, your fingers interlaced together. It makes his cock throb inside you when you moan in his mouth, his big hands pressing yours into the mattress while he slaps his strong, wet hips against your ass.

Missionary is a little awkward with Bo because your face is level with his chest, but it does provide the perfect opportunity to tease his nipples with your tongue. Mans has the most sensitive nips so when you lick and gently nip at them, Bo's pretty golden eyes roll back while his whole body shudders with pleasure. But he does try his best to kiss you while he's making love to you. You're making him feel so amazing all over, he doesn't even notice the discomfort in his back from forcing his spine to arch into an unnatural position sksskkksss. Then again, his back is pretty damn flexible. Have you seen the way it curves when he goes for a spike? 👁👄👁

Leaves you breathless when he's about to cum bc he throws his weight against you, fucking into you harder. He just doesn't know his own strength? But you don't mind bc the grunts and groans that leave this man's lips when he's about to bust a fat nut inside you give you life, and you swear you don't need to breathe anyway.

Is there anything sexier than making a brick shithouse of a man whimper your name when your orgasm hits and your tight pussy clamps down on his monstrous cock? No. No, there isn't.

Let me tell you, getting railed against the wall by Bo is a religious experience. The way he's effortlessly got your relatively tiny body pinned against the wall with your legs dangling over his forearms? His cock hitting spots that it just won't reach in any other position? His long fingers squishing into the fat of your ass as he guides you up and down all 9 inches of his slippery dick. And you're babbling between whimpers of his name while he presses his forehead to yours and grunts, "I'm so in love with you, baby owl. Always gonna take good care of you and treat you right," the force of his thrusts audible in his needy voice as he desperately tries to fuck all his love into you. He'll have both of you seeing the promised land. 🙏

There. I feel better now. This list is by no means exhaustive, but at least I got some of it off my chest. Thanks for listening.

tagging my fellow bokuhoes: @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @chaoskrakenuwu @crystal-lilac

bokuto mlist | haikyuu mlist

[lustfulslxt]

Concupiscence - Matt Sturniolo

no summary, just read.

warnings : sex, mentions of suicide, depression, alcohol, && italian matthew! you’ve been warned, so i don’t want to hear shit ab shit :)

a/n : i wrote this months ago, and y/n had a name at first, so sorry if i fucked up at any point.

—

The night was still young. The air felt refreshing as the wind blew softly. Infinite amount of stars glistened across the beautiful dark sky. Y/N strutted down the street, observing everything that she came across. People littered the streets, every single one of them holding smiles on their faces. Y/N felt envious, she wanted to feel happy. She wanted to feel something.

She was confident that this was it for her. The last time to have a good time, before it was all over. She wanted to have one more night of fun before ending it all. She couldn't fix her broken mind, or her broken heart. Something was wrong with her mentally, and she couldn't fix it. It was taking its toll, everyday harder than the one before. In hopes of lifting her spirit, she turned to alcohol, but it only lasted so long. There wasn't a permanent solution, her problem was unfixable. The only cure being death.

Y/N wanted to make this last night something great. She wanted to feel alive one last time. Saying that, she strolled the corner, dead set on finding a nice club to enjoy. She was walking for another fifteen minutes, before coming across Zerilli. It looked elegant, yet exotic. There was a long line of guests, waiting to make their way in. You could feel the vibrations in the air from the music inside.

Not wanting to wait in the long line, Y/N strolled up to one of the bouncers. "Excuse me sir? I think I left my wallet in here a little bit ago." He stared at her for a minute, unsure of whether to believe her or not. "Please, I really need it to get a cab home." And just like that, she made it through, in front of all those people waiting outside.

It was dark in the club, with neon lights shining all over the place. The music was extremely loud, everyone had to shout in order to hear each other. Y/N immediately made her way to the bar, desperately wanting a drink. She needed something to get her going. She sat on a stool and waited for the busy bartender to have a second to help her.

"Thank you for your patience, sweetie." A gorgeous redhead smiled at her, "What can I get for you?"

"Something strong, I don't care what. Surprise me." Y/N smiled back.

A minute later, a glass was slid in front of her, containing clear liquid and ice cubes. She didn't hesitate and threw her head back, drinking the glass in one gulp.

"Can I get two more?" She asked, licking her lips.

The lady grinned at her and did as she asked. Once Y/N got a few more drinks in her system, she made her way to the dance floor. Eyes closed, she began dancing to the music, letting her body flow freely.

Matthew Sturniolo sat in his seat, above the dance floor, watching his club flourish. Drink in hand, his eyes roamed the whole building, before landing on Y/N. The moment he saw her, he immediately stood up and leaned forward on the railing, watching her closely. The way her body moved, the way her hands played in her hair, the way her lips curved into a breathtaking smile that nobody but herself caused. Just from watching her for a few minutes, he could tell she was by herself. He could tell she was sad, more than sad. He could feel it coming off of her, and knew she was trying to feel good.

Over time, she made her way closer to the seats lining the back wall, and he made his way down the stairs in that same direction. She pulled herself from the crowd and danced in her own space, a cup in one hand while her other hand was moving in the air. Matthew was now only a few feet away from her. Their eyes met, smirks arising to both of their lips. He held his hand out, beckoning her to take it. Without a second thought, she placed her slender hand in his.

His lips found it, placing a soft kiss on it. "What's your name, darling?"

"Y/N." She whispered back to him in a laugh, "And you?"

"Matthew." He licked his lips, looking down at her. Her laugh sounded like what they would play at the heaven gates. "Dance with me tesoro." {sweetheart}

She eagerly obliged, placing her back against his front. She swayed to the music, trailing her hand to the back of his neck. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, his hands roaming her body without full on groping her. He placed his face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. Just her aroma made him want to devour her. Every millimeter of skin of hers that he touched, started tingling with heat. He spun her around, so she was face to face with him, placing a hand on her lower back, pulling her even closer. Her hands were placed on his chest, gripping his suit jacket to keep them close together. The two stood there, sexily swaying in each other's embrace, for what seemed like forever.

He took a step back, picking his cup up from the table right next to them. He took a sip of it before offering it to her. She bit her lip, grabbing the cup and downing the rest of it. Knowing what she knew, she didn't care to take precautions. She didn't plan on being here tomorrow.

Matthew sat down in one of the chairs, before patting his lap. "Sit, piccola." {babygirl}

Y/N did so, happily, wrapping her hand around his neck. Once she sat down, her dress rose up, slightly showing more skin. Matthew found himself placing his hand on her exposed thigh, slowly rubbing back and forth. His touch gave her goosebumps, and he certainly noticed. She smiled, looking directly into his eyes. He did the same thing right back, causing her cheeks to flush. He was intense and she liked it a lot.

"You're beautiful, Y/N." He whispered into her skin.

The way he said her name made her tremble. It sounded like it was meant for his mouth. She bit her lip and placed her forehead on his, inhaling deeply. The two had already stopped dancing and just held each other, intimately. He was softly rubbing her legs; she was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Who are you?" He barely spoke.

"I'm nobody." She whispered back.

He just pulled her closer, if that were even possible, and lifted her chin up. Their faces were only centimeters apart, they could feel the heat radiating off of each other.

"Come home with me." He stared into her eyes.

"I scratch and bite." She warned him.

Licking his lips, he promised, "You'll crawl and beg too."

Y/N only thought about it for a split second, before she stood up and grabbed his hand. "Let's go."

With that, Matthew walked her out to the car waiting for him. He had an uber driver waiting for him because he knew he would be leaving soon. He opened the door for her, ushering her to get in first. He followed in suit, the driver making sure they made it in before starting the way home.

The second both of them were seated, Matthew pulled her face to his. Their lips met in a soft yet rushed manner, it was hot and steamy. Y/N couldn't get enough, tugging him closer. She didn’t care if anyone seen anything, because nobody would know who she was tomorrow. He swiftly pulled her onto his lap, placing his hands on her butt, squeezing it ever so slightly. She moaned into his lips, feeling more turned on with every touch. He took that opportunity to shove his tongue in her mouth, exploring every part of her. Her hands made their way into his hair, softly tugging his head back as she worked down his neck, leaving wet open mouth kisses. She could feel him physically tense underneath her, and it drove her crazy.

"You're so fucking sexy, amore mio." He groaned. {my love}

The whole way back to his place, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. By now, his boxer briefs were tight from his rising member, and her panties were dripping with her arousal. The second the car stops, he jumps out, elegantly pulling her out as well. With the shut of the door, Matthew had her in his arms as he quickly made his way into the house.

It wasn't long before they made it to his bedroom. As soon as the door shut, he had her pinned against it. Her legs were wrapped around his waist; her arms around his neck. He kept his hands on her ass, burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting all over. He pulled back just to put his lips on hers again. They couldn't get enough of each other.

He softly put her down at the edge of the bed, before beginning to take of his shoes, suit jacket, and shirt. She stared at him, admiring everything about him. As soon as he had his shirt off, her hands made it to his chest, feeling every muscle. With one quick motion, she pushed him back onto the bed. He licked his lips, feverishly, while watching her step out of her shoes and dress.

He told her that she was beautiful, she didn't really believe him. He told her that she was sexy, she couldn't quite take it seriously. But now, as she stood before him, in nothing but lace lingerie, she could see the look in his eyes. Maybe he was right.

She slowly crawled over him, placing herself right on top of his bulge. Her hands made their way back to his chest again, leaning her face closer to his. Without waiting, he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into him. He kissed her so deeply and passionately that she quivered above him.

After breaking their kiss, Matthew wrapped his arms around her back, easily undoing her bra. He pulled the straps down her arms, placing soft kisses on the newly exposed skin. Her nipples were already hard with her feeling more and more turned on by the minute. He grabbed both of her boobs, squeezing tenderly, before placing one nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then doing the same to the other. Y/N couldn't help but moan softly, grinding her hips into him for more friction.

He easily flipped them so that he was towering over her. Without hesitation, his hand trailed down between her legs. He slowly rubbed her through her underwear, causing her to open her legs more, giving him more access. She moaned, grabbing his hand and pressing it more into her, wanting to feel more of him. He pulled his hand up ever so slightly, tugging her panties down her legs and off her feet. Spreading her legs wide open, he brought his face close to her heat. His lips brushed softly against her thighs, leaving a small trail of saliva. He could see her pussy dripping with arousal, and he couldn't wait to taste it.

Y/N’s breathing was getting heavier by the second, slightly bucking her hips towards him. Without waiting another second, Matthew's mouth found where she needed him most. His warm, wet tongue licked her slowly up and down. She couldn't help but let out a loud moan, encouraging him more. His mouth closed around her, sucking all of her flavor into his mouth. He moaned into her at the taste, causing her to tremble. His tongue continued to lap her, before closing his lips around her clit. He slowly shoved a finger inside her, softly sucking her clit.

"Ohh, fuck-" She moaned, her sultry voice going right through him.

He stuck another finger in, quickening the pace, curling in just the right spot. She gripped his hair, tugging it with pleasure. Her legs began to shake, not a second later, she let herself go all over his hand and into his mouth. He didn't waste time swallowing all of her. He sat up, placing his two fingers into his mouth, sucking her fluids off. Licking his lips, he shot her a breathtaking smile, before putting his lips to hers, letting her taste herself. She wrapped her hands around him, pulling him close to her. Her breathing was still heavy, and it was turning him on even more. She placed her hand at his belt, slightly tugging it.

He sat them both up, flipping her over so she was on her stomach. He stood up behind her, slowly undoing his belt while she waited with anticipation. He undid his pants and removed them and his briefs.

"Mettiti a quattro zampe." He spoke, and she eagerly listened. {all fours}

Not a second later, he brought the belt down on her ass. A loud slap rang through the air, the skin immediately burning. She let out a loud yelp, moaning at the feeling of it. He did it once more, and then again, getting the same reaction out of her every time. At this point, her ass had red welts and it was tender to the touch.

He leaned over her, gripping her jaw and neck, slightly pulling her back so his face was right above hers. "If you want me to fuck you, I'll fuck you until you can't remember your own damn name and you never forget mine."

Y/N barely nodded, her eyes begging him to take her. A second later, he's lined up at her entrance before shoving himself in. A loud moan escapes her lips as he sharply sucks in air, both of them feeling immense pleasure from the way each other feels. He slowly inched more of himself in, letting her adjust every few seconds. The second she pushes back onto him; he knew she was ready.

He began thrusting slow, letting her take all of him. His pace picked up, as well as both of their moans. He was consistently fucking her, hitting the right spot over and over and over. Her eyes were beginning to roll to the back of her head as he started licking and biting her back. Everything he was doing to her felt so good, she never wanted it to stop. All of this was distracting her from everything, and she felt better than she's ever felt before, she felt alive.

"You feel so good Matthew." She moaned, pushing even closer to him.

His hands firmly gripped her waist, throwing his head back at the pleasure he was feeling from her. "I could fuck you forever, love."

She inhaled sharply, coming to realize that this was something she'd love to have forever. Not just for the night, but forever. She abruptly sat up, pushing him back with one hand. Before he could say anything at all, she had pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him. She took his member, and slowly slid down, taking all of him inside of her.

Matthew’s head went back, taking his lip in his mouth, moaning loudly. His hands made their way up her body, gripping everything. They rested on her boobs, squeezing them and pinching her nipples. She bounced up and down in a quick and consistent pace, bringing both of them closer to the edge. He brought one of his hands down to the middle of them, slowly rubbing her clit with his thumb. Her legs were shaking, he was driving her crazy.

Once again, he flipped them over, so he was on top. He quickly placed himself back inside of her and put her legs on his shoulders. His thrusts were hard and fast, causing Y/N to let out pleasurable screams. Her hands dragged down his back, digging into his flesh. He could tell she was close to release.

"Cum for me tesoro." He moaned into her lips. {darling}

And she did just that, letting herself go all over him. That alone brought him to the edge. He felt himself twitch and he emptied his load into her, his thrusts slowing down until he stopped completely. Their breathing was erratic. He pulled himself out of her and dropped down to the bed, their bodies still touching. After catching her breath, Y/N rose to gather her stuff.

"Where are you going?" Matthew caught her hand.

"Um-"

"Stay." He looked at her, his eyes filled with hope. "Please, stay."

She stared into his eyes, something stirring in her stomach. She knew she planned to end it after her night was over, but he made her want to stay. So, she did. She crawled back into bed with him, and he pulled her into his arms, placing sweet kisses against her skin. They laid in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's presence.

"I thought your laugh was my favorite thing about you, until I heard your moan, and once I heard those gasps and sighs, you turned on my soul." He admitted to her, rubbing her cheek while staring into her eyes.

"Well, when you pushed it deeper and deeper, I go crazy for that shit." She teased, a smile playing on both of their faces.

Silence fall upon them once again, until he broke it, "What were you doing tonight?"

Suddenly, she pulled away from him and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. When she didn't say anything, he sighed. She didn't have to tell him how she was feeling earlier in the night, he could read it all over her. The way she drank glass after glass, how she closed her eyes to shut everything out. For some reason, he could see right through her.

"Stay with me." He took her hand in his. "If you don't want to talk about earlier, we don't have to. But stay with me."

"I'm right here, aren't I?"

He pulled her closer, taking her face in his hands before placing a few small kisses on her lips. "No. Stay with me."

He didn't have to explain further, she knew what he meant. He wanted her to stay with him, not just for the night.

She sighed, sadly, "You don't know me."

"So I'll get to know you." He rubbed her cheek, "I don't want this right here to be the last time I see you." When she didn't say anything, he continued. "I don't know what it is about you. As soon as I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were the one that I wanted. And I just have a feeling, if I let you walk out of here, I'm never going to see you again. So, stay."

She brought her lips to his, kissing him passionately. Somehow, right now, he's done more than any and everyone in her life. He's made her feel more. He did everything right, said everything right. This feeling he rose in her, she never wanted it to go away.

When she gave him a soft nod, he shot his fists in the air, "Yes!"

With that, he pulled her entire body into his and squeezed her tightly, as if he didn't, she would slip away.

—

a/n : i was depressed and horny lol.. hope you enjoyed, send in reqs!

[ereardon]

That Summer || Part One [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Summary: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, illusion to violence, mention of dead parents, angst

Wordcount: 3.5K

Series masterlist here; Part Two here

“Do you know him?” 

You looked over. The familiar dark hair. The tanned, even skin. The dazzling smile. You could hear his laugh in your ear even though it had been years. You could practically feel the vibrations of his voice and the way it used to smooth over your skin in the middle of the night as the two of you laid side-by-side on the queen mattress, the stars twinkling through the skylights of your childhood bedroom. 

You would know Bradley Bradshaw anywhere. It didn’t matter that it had been fifteen years since you had last seen him. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t heard your name fall from his lips since the night the two of you were ripped apart. It didn’t matter that you had once told yourself you’d never love another person the way you loved Bradley, only for him to be gone in an instant.

He was bonded to you. He was infused in every single atom in your body. He ran through your veins alongside your blood. He haunted your dreams. He patrolled your memories. His touches were tattooed on your skin like a glow-in-the-dark map that only you could see.  

You looked up one last time. And watched as Bradley turned, his hand pulling at the sunglasses that sat squarely on his nose until he was looking, staring, at you. And it was just the two of you, once more. It was like none of it had ever happened, and also everything had happened. And you were eighteen again, on the beach, in Galveston. And he was just a boy who held your hand and promised you the world even though he didn’t have a dime to his name. Even though he had no right to offer you a future, even if you both knew it was a lie.

You looked away. “No,” you whispered softly. “I don’t know him.” 

***

In the middle of the night, you jolted awake in bed. The sound of voices in the foyer and the familiar thump of the giant wooden front door as it sealed closed caught your attention. Your father ran a tight ship and an even tighter house. It was incredibly unusual that anyone would drop by unannounced in the middle of the night. You turned to the clock on your nightstand. It was after two in the morning. 

Silently, you eased out of bed and tiptoed out of your room into the hall, peering down from the railing of the curved staircase. Two stories below, you heard voices and spotted several figures moving into your line of sight through the wooden posts on the stairwell. 

You saw your father’s familiar, formidable, figure first. Tall stature, hair grayed with age. You could tell, just by how rigid he was standing, that this wasn’t a positive interaction. He radiated anger and disappointment, even from two stories away. You were all too familiar with this side of him.

The next person who popped into your field of view was a police officer, dressed in uniform. You frowned. Your father, a retired Admiral, wasn’t unfamiliar with the local Galveston police force. But they didn’t make it a habit to come to your house at two o’clock in the morning, unannounced. 

Finally, a third figure floated into view. You sucked in a breath. He was young, late teens, with sandy brown hair, wearing a ratty t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You watched his body language. How he kept his eyes trained on the ground, head bowed so low his chin must have been touching his chest. How even from all the way on the third floor you could tell that he was in desperate need of a shower. 

And then, finally, the voices ceased. The policeman held out a hand to shake your father’s. He looked at the boy, who raised his eyeline and nodded solemnly. And then the door was shut and it was just your father and the boy, staring at each other in the foyer. You leaned down, close to the white wood posts in the railing, trying desperately to hear what they were saying. And then you watched as your father sighed, shaking his head, heading for the stairs. 

Before you could scramble out of your crouched spot, the boy looked up, catching your eye. 

That was the first time you saw Bradley Bradshaw. 

You were seventeen, about to turn eighteen. You had your entire life ahead of you. You had kissed boys before. You had thought, wrongly, that you had experienced pain before. You had thought you understood the world and its intricacies. You thought you knew exactly where your life was going to go. 

Everything you had ever known went out the window that night as you looked down the curved flights of stairs and saw Bradley. Everything you had ever thought was true was flipped on its head the second his warm brown eyes locked on yours. 

You scurried back to your room, closing the door as you heard your father’s footsteps on the second floor platform, starting his ascent to the third floor. You waited with baited breath as two sets of footsteps passed your room, turning down the hallway toward the attic tower room. 

Your family had moved to Galveston five years prior once your father finally retired from his post at Top Gun in California. The first time they brought you down to Texas, you gawked at the house. It stuck out like a sore thumb. A giant Victorian monstrosity near the beach, with a steep, gabled roof and a round tower on the right side. 

The tower room remained empty for as long as you could remember. It was mostly storage for your mother’s hideous Christmas decorations or whatever hobby she decided to have that week that would inevitably get stored away once she turned her mind to something else. 

The sounds of their footsteps grew more muted as the two of them climbed the stairs to the tower room. 

You closed your eyes, trying to wash away the haunting image of the boy staring up at you only moments before. But it was burned in your retinas. 

Somehow, even then, you knew. He was going to change everything. 

***

When you woke up the next day, you had almost forgotten about the entire event the night before. 

That was, until you floated downstairs in a tiny white cotton pajama set and spotted an unfamiliar, but somehow familiar, person sitting at the breakfast table, their back to you, just a head of brown curls in view. 

You looked up at Louise, the housekeeper, with a frown. She shrugged. 

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice boomed across the expanse of the kitchen. You turned as he strode into the kitchen through the side door, already dressed for the day with nowhere to go. Thirty-five years in the Navy had acclimated him to a sleep schedule that you could never wrap your head around. 

“Daddy,” you said softly, stepping further into the kitchen. The boy at the table remained still, not facing you, instead looking out through the bay window next to the breakfast nook, overlooking the ocean. 

“Louise, can you get my daughter some coffee, please?” he asked and she nodded, returning in a moment with a delicate china cup filled coffee with cream, exactly the way you liked it.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly. 

Your father’s eyes rolled over to the boy at the table. “Y/N. This is Bradley Bradshaw. He will be staying with us for a while.” 

Still, he didn’t turn. You stepped forward, sliding into the bench seat that hugged the curve of the bay window, setting your coffee cup down gently. “Hi.” 

That’s when Bradley finally met your gaze. You had to stifle a gasp. He had cuts and scrapes across his face and down his neck, and a black eye that you hadn’t been able to distinguish in the darkened lighting the night before. His lip was split. He looked at you silently for a moment before uttering, “Hey.” His voice was timid. Broken. He didn’t sound at all like what you had expected. 

You weren’t sure what you had expected. 

Your father put his hand on your bare shoulder. “Bradley’s father and I served together at Top Gun back in the day.” 

“That’s nice,” you said, taking a sip of coffee. “Is he still in California?” 

“He’s dead,” Bradley said and you sank back in shock. The way he said it had the effect of curdling the milk in your coffee. It was cold. Detached.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

Bradley turned to look back out the window, ignoring the plate of eggs in front of him. 

“Y/N,” your father said, “can I speak to you in the living room please?” 

You nodded, sliding out of the booth seat and following him through the doors into the wider living room. 

He turned to you. “I need you to be careful,” he whispered. 

You frowned. “Careful about what?” 

“That boy,” he replied. “Bradley. He’s deeply troubled. His father, Nick, was a good man. But it seems that Bradley has gone down a rather troubled path.” He paused. “Stay away from him. Promise me, Pumpkin.” 

Pumpkin. The nickname your father had called you since you were born. Your parents had wanted a house full of children, running and screaming and creating chaos. And instead, they had gotten only you. And the weight of that sat on your shoulders every day that passed. 

“You may see him at meals, but don’t fraternize with the boy,” your father warned. “He’ll only bring you trouble.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

“Promise me?” 

You nodded. “I promise.” 

He smiled. “Good. I’ll see you at dinner.” It didn’t matter that he was retired. Your father always had somewhere to be, no matter what day of the week. He frowned upon sleeping in and relaxing. 

“Daddy?” you asked as he turned to leave. “What did he do? Why is he here?” 

Your father sighed. “He was in trouble, and needed help. That’s all you need to know.” 

“But what did he–”

“Y/N.” His voice was firm. It was his military voice. You knew it well. “Don’t ask questions you don’t need answers to.”

***

The move from California to Texas had been extreme. Your parents were Texas born and raised, and they had taken their ideals and their tendencies with them to California. But growing up in San Diego has been a blessing. You visited cousins and grandparents back in the South during the holidays and the summer, but it wasn’t until your father retired that you had truly understood what it meant to be from Texas. 

Your mother never worked. Not a day in her life. She was raised to be someone’s wife, someone’s mother. And that’s why it was such a disappointment that you were her only child to care for. It’s why it was such a disappointment that you hadn’t turned out at all like the daughter they had hoped for. 

You wore bikinis all day during the summer and let your hair get bleached by the sun and you read books with sexual themes and you resisted going to bible study youth group and you were not the daughter that they had expected. 

So when your father retired and moved the three of you to Texas, your mother signed you up for a debutante ball at the end of the summer. As if spinning around a dated country club ballroom in five layers of taffeta would have the effect of making you a lady, someone they were proud to call their daughter.

“Mother,” you whined when you found out. “I am not doing that.” 

“Y/N Sullivan,” she warned and you just knew that your full name rolling off her sharp tongue was never good. “You’re doing this and I’m not going to hear otherwise.” 

You turned and rolled your eyes behind her back. And that was how you ended up buying elbow-length gloves for the end-of-summer Ball at the Galveston Artillery Club. 

The gloves, and the dress, hung in perpetuity in your walk-in closet. Every morning when you went in to get dressed they taunted you. 

August 15 could not come and go soon enough. 

***

You didn’t see Bradley again until dinner. 

As usual, your mother was nowhere to be seen. You spent the day on the beach, tanning on a towel, reading books with your head ducked beneath a thin linen shirt, letting the Texas sun scorch you until you were so hot you had to run into the water. 

By the time you had showered and dressed for dinner, it was closing in on seven. Dinner was always at seven and it always required an outfit change. Other kids had grown up in TV dinner houses or with takeout meals eaten on the couch. You had grown up with a strict dinner time and a dress code. 

You smoothed the silky fabric of your slip dress down with your palms, making your way through the living room to the formal dining room. 

Once again, it was only you and Bradley. He looked up as you entered. He was wearing a collared shirt, obviously one of your father’s from years past, that was too large on his frame, the orange color highlighting the injuries on his face. 

You sat down in your normal chair across from him at the ten-person table. “How’d you get those?” you asked, nodding toward him. 

He frowned. “Thought you weren’t supposed to talk to me.” 

“Shit,” you whispered. “You heard that?” 

Bradley nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “My father can be temperamental.” To say the least. 

Bradley shrugged. “Whatever.” 

At that moment, your parents entered the room. Your mother’s eyes swept over where you sat across the table from Bradley, a permanent crease between her eyebrows taking hold. “Y/N,” she said softly before turning. “And you must be Bradley.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, head bowed. 

Your father grunted and sat down at his normal spot at one end of the table. Your mother took the other end. It feel surreal, like an extremely fucked up Norman Rockwell painting sprung to life. 

The entire dinner was consumed in near silence. Just the sound of forks and knives scratching at the china plates that your mother loved so dearly. Your eyes drifted across the table to Bradley, who looked like he was in pain when he chewed. He kept his eyes trained on his plate, only lifting them when he was asked a direct question. 

You were sawing through a piece of undercooked asparagus when your mother’s voice slid across your skin. “Have you found a date for the debutante ball yet?” 

You put your silver fork and knife down. “Not yet.” 

“It’s in less than two months,” your mother replied. “You need to move before all the escorts are snapped up.” 

“Maybe I’ll hire a real escort then.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Y/N, don’t even tease.” 

“Sorry mother.” 

“What about the Althans boy? He’s charming.” 

“He’s five foot four and smells like pickled onions.” 

At the other end of the table, your father snorted. You looked up and smirked. “Daniel!” your mother scolded. “Can you please tell your daughter she’s being a brat.” 

“Y/N,” he said, turning to you. 

“Yes, daddy?”

“You’re being a brat,” he replied and as you opened your mouth with a retort he added, “and you’re right about the Althans kid. He smells God awful.” 

You laughed. “What about Frank Turner’s son? The engineering student.” 

You grunted. “Pass.”

Your father sighed. “And what’s wrong with him?” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. That you had been at a bonfire last summer and Ethan Turner had made a pass at you and you had lost your virginity to him on a beach towel in the dunes. It had been awful and ever since you avoided Ethan the best you could. The last thing you wanted was for him to be your escort. 

“Fine,” he said, setting down his knife. “You have until the end of July to find a date, Y/N. And then your mother and I choose for you.” 

You took a sip of water. “Fine.” 

***

You heard him that second night. At first, you thought maybe it was the wind. But when you got out of bed and looked out the large windows facing the water, you saw that the dunes were still. It was just another hot, oppressive June night without a whisper of a breeze. 

And then you heard it again. A soft whine. A thrashing. You tiptoed out of bed and creaked open the wooden door, tipping your head out into the hallway. It was coming from the tower room. If you had been a child growing up in the house, the attic in the tower probably would have held some sort of exotic magnetism over you. A forbidden playground. Instead, it exclusively gave off Bertha Mason from Jane Eyre vibes. 

The moaning and groaning from behind the door didn’t help. You debated seeing what was wrong. But your father’s words rattled around in your head. So you crept back to bed, sliping a pair of foam earplugs into your ears, drowning out the sounds of the boy upstairs. 

You heard it for two more nights before finally you got up the courage to reach out and twist the door handle, gently tugging it open, ascending the wooden stairs up to the tower room. 

The staircase tossed you out into the middle of the room, which you saw had been cleared out of holiday decorations. Instead, there was a dresser against one wall, a small reading chair, and a double bed underneath the main window. 

On the bed, Bradley was tossing in his sleep violently, the white sheets tangling between his bare legs. You slowly stepped off the top step onto the hardwood floor, and the creaking noise caused Bradley to sit straight up in bed.

You noticed first that he was panting, like he had just been chased down the beach. Second thing you noticed was that he was shirtless, sweat dotting his entire chest, along with scratches of varying hues. 

You raised your hands up in a surrender pose. “I heard you fussing,” you said softly. “And wanted to check and make sure you were OK.” 

Bradley blinked, hard, shaking his head a few times like he was trying to orient himself. “I’m fine,” he whispered gruffly after a moment. 

“I think you were having a nightmare.” 

“Is it a nightmare if you have them every night?” he asked quietly. “Or is it just how I dream?” 

You frowned, stepping closer. “Every night?” 

Bradley looked down at his hands where they were gripping the white sheets but didn’t respond. 

“You never told me how you got those scars,” you whispered, pointing to the ones on the side of his face. 

“You should go,” he said after a moment. 

“Why?” 

“Because if they find you in here, they’ll kick me out.” 

“Do you care?” you asked. It was a genuine question. All you had seen so far from Bradley Bradsahw was indifference. 

Bradley’s eyes landed on yours. You felt the look all the way to your toes. It tingled across your veins. “I have nowhere else to go,” he said quietly. “So yeah, I care. I have to.” 

You nodded. “OK, I’ll leave.” You turned to leave, hovering on the top spiral step. “Bradley?” 

He hummed. 

“Third door on your right,” you replied quietly. “If you need me. Or if you want to talk. That’s my room. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Back in your own bed, you pulled the covers up to your neck, thinking about the raw animalistic terror in Bradley’s eyes the second he woke up. There was something about him that drew you in. Something you couldn’t let go of. 

He was as lost as you felt. 

***

You had exactly one hundred days until you left for Stanford. 

One hundred days of summer. Nothing but the debutante ball looming over you. 

You had wanted to get a job, something to do to fill the hours of the day. But your mother was old fashioned. She begged you to get a volunteer position instead. Your father agreed. You capitulated. 

“Being well-rounded is good for a girl your age,” he said, sipping on a glass of whiskey as you stood at the large built-in bookshelf in his office. 

“I can be well rounded and serve fried clams at Nick’s Kitchen.” 

“Over your mother’s dead body,” he laughed and you sighed, choosing a tome off the shelf and bidding him goodnight. 

You spent your days languishing on the beach, volunteering at the animal shelter on the other side of the island, reading for your courses in the fall. It was supposed to be a banal summer. Ordinary. 

And then Bradley showed up and everything was suddenly, undeniably, altered. 

A/N: I had originally considered posting this as one LONG piece, but this felt like a good natural stop for the first part so it will be split into parts, not sure how many (at least three)!

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[nomaintenancedecks]

Curved Deck Railing System

[swaps55]

Mezzo - 06 - Control

Pairing: mshenko | Rating: M Tags: Canon-typical violence, trauma, dealing with your problems poorly, body autonomy struggles   Summary: The twists and turns of ME2, through the eyes of everyone but Commander Shepard. Chapter Summary: Kaidan runs into a familiar face. Dr. Chakwas does some detective work. EDI is always watching. AKA, the chapter with EDI feelings you were not prepared for. Thank you @sinvraal for betaing!

Chapter 6: Control | Read on Ao3

04 November 2185, Rosetta Nebula, Enoch System, Joab

As alien planets go, Joab is nice enough, but the best part about it is there are no geth to be seen.

“Incoming!” Pendergrass yells, barreling into Kaidan and flinging them both behind a rock fractions of a second before a grenade detonates.

No geth, but plenty of Blue Suns mercenaries.

Kaidan hits the ground hard, but the pain in his shoulder is a lot more manageable than the side effects of a thermite-coated grenade would have been.

“Get ready to eat your own dick, fucker,” Aslany growls from somewhere behind and to their left, seconds before her light-refracting cloak drops with a shimmer, and the batarian who threw the grenade gets a sniper bullet between his teeth.

Pendergrass laughs as she rolls off Kaidan, palms one of her owngrenades and loads it into the launch rail of her pistol. “Mine’s better,” she hollers as she aims and fires at the last two guarding the barricaded bunker door.

The EMP grenade erupts in a shower of arcing electricity, followed by dismayed cries. Two pulls of Aslany’s trigger and the door is no longer guarded.

The bunker they’re trying so hard to get into is unremarkable in all ways save the prothean signature buried somewhere inside it.  

“Let’s see what the hell they found in there,” Kaidan mutters, heading for the bunker. One of the batarians stirs on their way past. Aslany whips out a pistol and fires it through his faceplate without breaking stride.

Kaidan eyes her but says nothing. Better to wait and ask how she’s doing when she’s unarmed. Besides, he doesn’t want to talk about Shepard anymore than she does.

Pendergrass waves a hand with a flourish when she coaxes the door open. Resistance on the other side is surprisingly light, and they clear it without fanfare, to Pendergrass’ disappointment. What’s left is a hastily erected temporary quarters and haphazard lab equipment, all staged around a mining tunnel.

“Goto was right. These are definitely Hock’s goons,” Aslany says, nudging one of the cooling corpses with her boot.

“And they haven’t been here long,” Kaidan muses, scanning the disarrayed supplies.

“Who gets to go first into the creepy mining tunnel?” Pendergrass pipes up, hopeful.

Kaidan gestures for her to go ahead with a reluctant sigh. “Just don’t touch anything.”

“You’re no fun.”

She practically bounds into the tunnel, Aslany close on her six and Kaidan on Aslany’s. A few meters down the tunnel opens up into a larger chamber. 

Like the archives on Ilos, the air is musty, old, like time had taken a deep breath and just…stopped. The crumbling architecture shored into the excavated walls of the cavern doesn’t resemble Ilos any more than Therum had, but the sweeping curves of an innate, ancient computer interface are instantly familiar. 

“Prothean,” Kaidan murmurs.  

Read from the beginning | Read the rest on Ao3 | The Mezzo Playlist

[togglesbloggle]

Still riding high from watching Royal Space Force, which is an extraordinary film in ways that films are rarely extraordinary.

There's a line in that Wikipedia article I linked that's quoting Ted Chiang- he says that it's "the single most impressive example of worldbuilding in books or film." That's high praise for sure, and I'm not at all sure how much I can argue with it. Every inch and instant of this thing is a gradual unfolding of an internally consistent and fully realized alternate technological civilization, with lavish animation and deep reflection on its machines, architecture, industrial processes, and infrastructure, as the narrative follows a sort of Yuri Gagarin analogue as they advance towards their first manned spaceflight. Their devices are often whimsical, but mechanically grounded, and throughout the film you're constantly seeing shades of early- and mid-century technologies in jumbled and decontextualized ways that just sing with love for engineering as a human art.

It's fun, in particular, to watch advances in propulsion technology as they're reflected in such a complexly realized might-have-been. As with them, so with us- the early 20th century was a time of rapid technological change on any number of axes, but our sudden exhilarating speed was at the center of it all. A single generation saw both the advent of flying machines and the first human in space; they saw wars become world wars, they saw rockets become intercontinental ballistic nuclear warheads. That's what this movie is about, really; changing the ground truth just enough to let you feel that exhilarating speed again for the first time.

It's a particularly good movie to watch this week, if you're the sort of person who's been avidly following the news on room temperature superconductors. Because we aren't, quite, the target audience for this movie. It came out in 1987, late enough to be nostalgic for that revolution, late enough to have seen the explosive growth of our capacity for motion become one more S-curve, crushed back down to the horizontal under the weight of the rocketry equations, but still as a thing remembered and experienced firsthand. Like the first Star Wars movie, it's not just a celebration of rocketry, but also trades in the visual language of urbanization, factionalism, and aerial warfare that erupted across the world as it abruptly shrank. It can be helpful to think very deeply about that moment.

You and I have never seen something like that happen before. We've had our technological revolutions, sure. For us, computers have been the axis around which it all turned. And for good reason! The universal machine, the tool that can do anything, as long as that 'anything' is made of light. We also shrank the world, in a way. But the information revolution is a subtle thing, dreamlike and insubstantial and interpersonal. The propulsion revolution was a revolution in power, direct and loud and furious. A room temperature superconductor, also, would be a revolution in power. I don't think you and I are quite ready for what that might mean.

(Particularly with fusion winking at us from just the other side of this thing.)

We can list out some of the first-order consequences of a room temperature superconductor, if it turns out to be real. There's the incredibly cool levitating rail systems that everybody likes to talk about; the sudden dominance of renewable energy and zero-emission power sources; there's quantum computers, terahertz antennae, lossless power transmission, a near-apotheosis of battery technology. But that's nothing, not really. As the old phrase goes, anyone could have predicted the car, it's predicting the traffic jam that takes a genius.

I know (I think) that power is what states are made of; the revolution in speed saw the end of feudalism, itself already teetering from blows it took from other revolutions in industrialization, and the rise of modern democratic governments- and also the rise of fascist and communist autocracies, the titanic conflicts between them, the industrialization of murder. At the upper end of possibility, that's what these last couple weeks might mean too. To move an electron through a wire, without any loss of energy to heat, is to create new ideologies we can't anticipate, new theaters of war, new kinds of government, new global superpowers, new things for the word 'progress' to mean. An information revolution can help show you who you are; a revolution in power can give that image the force to change the world from the ground up.

Here's hoping we're ready for it.

[queenburd]

crossposted to ao3. a followup to this.

|.|.|.|

Eventually, though, it has to come to an end.

Restlessness finds him, makes his joints achy from keeping still for so long. His head starts to pound. The hum of the lights starts to overwhelm. It’s time to go.

Stanley tugs gently at the narrator’s sweater to try to gain his attention. There’s no real response. He bats a bit at his friend’s chest, to little avail. The narrator’s eyes stay affixed to the lights above them. Is he even blinking?

Grimacing, Stanley clambers onto his hands and knees, and lifts his body to hover over the fellow’s, blocking his view and meeting his eye. This, at least, gets a reaction, a sudden rapid blinking as his gaze focuses. 

“Oh—hello, Stanley,” he says rather quickly. His eyes keep flickering from Stanley’s face above him to the peripherals, trying to find the lights again, before they flick back to meet his gaze. “Feeling more rested, are we?”

Stanley nods. It’s time to go.

“Oh, already? Alright, give me a moment.”

Seconds tick by, and nothing happens. They are still in this room.

Stanley sighs. He clambers off the narrator to sit up properly, and thinks. Eventually, he comes to a decision and gets to his feet.

He stands over the narrator again, cutting into his view, and offers his hands. Two warm firm hands take his own without fuss, and he pulls his friend to his feet. The narrator’s gaze is still focused upward when Stanley takes his hand and leads him across the platform. A free hand finds the rail. His head turns to continue looking towards the lights when he is ushered carefully down the stairs, out the doorway into the hall.

Once there, Stanley holds him gently by the shoulders and presses his back to the wall beside the doorframe. From this angle, there is no way to see the stars.

The narrator’s face shifts slowly. There had been a longing in his gaze, some kind of need, that had lived there as long as his attention had been captured. Now, without the siren song, he looks a little lost.

“Thank you, Stanley,” he finally says, not meeting Stanley’s eyes. “I’ll, I’ll reset in a moment. I just need a… a moment…”

And then his eyebrows draw together, his mouth twists hard, and the narrator begins to cry.

Some kind of instinct kicks on in Stanley’s head. He lets the fellow slide down the wall to sit on the concrete, and sits beside him, wrapping an arm around shaking shoulders and pulling the narrator’s face to let him sob into the curve of his neck.

“I don’t—I don’t know why I’m—“ his friend chokes out between gasps for air. Stanley rocks him, feeling his fingers curl into his shirt.

It’s the loss, he thinks. It’s the first time the narrator is experiencing the dramatic shift of emotion in a model. Most people would be overwhelmed. It’s a shock to the system, and the system responds by crying. It’s okay. Just cry.

“But—but I—I don’t want to—“

Body isn’t giving him a choice. Don’t give it more stress by being upset you can’t control its responses. Just ride it out. 

There’s a harsh gasp, and the narrator shakes even harder, clinging desperately to him. Stanley presses his cheek to his hair and cards a hand through it, radiating all the comfort he could ever offer. While he doesn’t in any way enjoy the fellow’s distress, it is distinctly nice that he can finally provide the care and support he’s been offered for so many years.

The crying slows, after a bit. The narrator wears himself out, sniffling against Stanley’s chest. “This is ridiculous,” he finally says weakly, exasperated. “Honestly, what an unwarranted reaction this body decided to have.”

Stanley doesn’t have anything to say to that. He just squeezes him.

“Okay. I’m going to properly reset now.” And he does at least sound a bit more put together, more like himself. “Thank you. For getting us out here so I could think.”

And between blinks, the game resets. When Stanley exits his office, he is not greeted by a graying gentleman in a comfortable jumper.

“I’m sorry, Stanley, but I was feeling rather overwhelmed after that last run. I think I need to put the model away, just for a bit. Is that alright?”

The voice sounds ashamed, and there’s no denying that there’s a sense of loss at the fact they have to go back to the usual routine. But honestly, Stanley can’t find it in himself to hold it against him. He’s never really experienced emotions in a form so small, comparatively.

So Stanley offers a thumbs up and a smile.

“Oh, oh good. I was having a good deal of fun with it, just to be clear, but—if you’re alright with a return to form for a bit, then we’ll get back to it at a later time.”

He nods.

(And it’s fine. Really, it is. After all, even like this, his narrator still feels present. His voice is still a comforting weight around his shoulders. It still feels like an embrace.

He’ll always be happy to meet him in the middle. Always.)

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

On June 20, after millions of Americans had suffered through a sweltering heat wave for three days, Amtrak sent an ominous warning over social media: Trains connecting the largest cities in Northeast could face up to an hour of delay from high temperatures.

Later that afternoon, after the temperature peaked at 96 degrees in Newark, Amtrak lost electricity near the New Jersey side of the Hudson River tunnels. The power failure soon shuttered a 150-mile stretch of the busiest rail corridor in the United States for more than three hours. The impact reverberated until the next day, when trains chugged through with hours of residual delays.

As the planet rapidly warms, train delays and breakdowns are becoming more frequent as America’s antiquated rail infrastructure struggles to remain functional during prolonged extreme weather events that were not typical when the system was constructed.

A New York Times analysis of Amtrak data found that the rail service’s passengers have faced record delays in recent years caused by inclement weather such as heat waves, storms, floods, high winds, low temperatures, tornadoes, lightning and wildfires.

Extreme weather events bogged down Amtrak trains for more than 4,010 hours in the 2023 fiscal year, which began in October 2022 and ended in September 2023, according to a Times analysis of more than 313,000 individual train delay data dating to September 2003. That was the highest number of weather-related delays in at least 20 years.

The biggest contributor has been intensifying heat waves. About 30 percent of trains that arrived late in the 2023 fiscal year were delayed for heat reasons, accounting for nearly 1,200 hours of overall delays. Heat delays more than doubled from the 2018 fiscal year, when Amtrak passengers spent 530 additional hours in trains after high temperatures slowed down rail travel.

Railways made from steel are prone to deformities when exposed to direct sunlight during heat waves. The changes, known as sun kinks, occur when the steel overheats and buckles, creating wobbly and dangerous curves that require railroads to drastically reduce the speed of their trains to avoid derailments.

“You get a sun kink when the train’s on it — you’re dead,” said Louis S. Thompson, a former director of the Federal Railroad Administration who led efforts to revamp Amtrak service in the Northeast. “It’s going to go off the rails.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Reckoning

Conquest log Archive 1731 Star Date 93745

Scouting detail 831 reports low level broadband communication signals while exploring sector G17. Signals are weak in nature but contain enough complex patterns to imply linguistics.

Requested additional teams and stronger receiver equipment was approved and further investigations begun.

Star date 93763

The unknown signals have increased in frequencies and scouting details have begun narrowing down origin location. With the stronger equipment the signals have been found to be visual transmissions rather than simple audio only communications.

First visuals of the aliens sending the messages have them appearing as bipedal creatures standing upright with two arms and legs. Despite sharing the same form many of them appear to hold individual distinctive features ranging from hair color, skin color, height, tone of voice, body proportions, etc.

The linguistics corps is attempting to create a foundation for understanding their primitive language but Warlord Xulien has instead diverted manpower to analyzing their current technological level. He has taken interest in the signals; though he appears less interested in the species themselves and is more invested in the world they occupy.

What little he has seen of the planet through the transmissions has convinced him that it would be the next prime candidate for the colonization corp and would become the new frontier outpost for his forces to base in for their westward expansion.

Star Date 93771

With the combined efforts of the increased scouting details the alien’s believed homeworld has been located; a medium sized binary star cluster with five orbital masses circling the twin suns. Four of the planetoids have their orbital curves sending them too close to the suns to be bathed in lethal radiation or too far and ending up as a frozen orb. The fifth planet finds itself in perfect synchronization with the two suns and found itself in the so called “Green Zone” orbit that can sustain life.

Scouting detail 831 received the honor of sending the first ship into the system. Primary focus was altered at the command of Warlord Xulien to focus on military capabilities present in the system.

First visuals were reported back and found to be unimpressive.

The species, while having advanced far enough to obtain space flight, showed limited space presence aside from an array of artificial satellites and small mining craft that were sent to the four desolate planets in the system for raw materials.

On the surface there were several large cities with a few dozen smaller settlements scattered around the planet. A network of roadways and rail lines connected each grouping into a vast network allowing easy movement across the planet.

With the closer proximity to the signals origins the linguistics corps was able to better translate the information and has finally learned the name of the species.

They call themselves “Humans”.

Star Date 93775

Warlord Xulien has assembled his war host and launched a full invasion of the system.

Protests from the science and diplomatic corps were overridden as Xulien made a convincing case to the senate that these “humans” were too primitive to be of any real benefit to the empire and that their world would be put too much better use under their people’s watchful gaze.

The first wave of ships have flooded into the system and secured total control. The small fleet of human ships was easily wiped out in the initial engagement, though many of the satellites remained unharmed due to their small size making them more difficult and tedious to destroy.

Star Date 93776

Following the control of the surrounding space the main force has entered the system. The transports carrying the war host lumbered into orbit around the human homeworld and begun landings.

Warlord Xulien has forbidden the use of orbital strikes to minimize collateral damage to the planet. He has been recorded saying that his forces need to stretch their legs after such a journey and welcome a ground war challenge.

Numerous communication signals have been detected coming from the surface of the planet but Warlord Xulien has ordered the fleet to ignore them. He believes they are the humans attempting to establish peace talks which he has no interest in.

Star Date 937780

Final resistance of the humans has been wiped out.

The war chorus Helion has captured the human leader and is bringing them aboard the flagship to meet with Warlord Xulien.

Orders for colonization fleets to assemble have been sent.

Star Date 937780b

Multiple jump signatures detected along the edges of the system.

Three hundred unknown space fairing vessels have bypassed long range scanners and have formed a tightening noose around the war host.

Ship classification unknown but all bare the mark of humanity. The lead ship at the center of this new armada is several times larger than Warlord Xulien’s personal flagship.

Orders have been issued to recall ground forces as the fleet assembles.

Star Date 937781

War host fleet has been wiped out.

It has been discovered that the world previously thought to be the human homeworld was in fact a recent colony; a colony that was part of a much larger and more advanced domain of human controlled territory.

Reports of massed barrages of human weaponry far more advanced than what the colonists had shattered the fleet shields in the opening seconds. With their shields disabled the human flagship then deployed a large scale electromagnetic pulse weapon of some kind and disabled the entire war host fleet. All contact with the fleet was then lost save for a single transport vessel that had landed on the surface and continued to transmit back to the empire.

Scanners detected that multiple smaller craft were then launched from the human ships and latched on to the war host fleet vessels. Military analysts theorize that these were boarding parties and that the war host ships were taken one by one.

The remaining war chorus’s on the planet’s surface reported massed landings of human vehicles dropping off scores of heavily armed warriors before all communication was lost.

Star Date 937923

The general public continues to remain unaware of the events that took place on the human colony world. Official reports list that in a final act of defiance the humans detonated a device near one of the binary stars that sent it cascading into a deadly supernova that consumed the entire system.

A memorial was held for Warlord Xulien and his war host, while all official information of the events that transpired have been scrubbed from the records save for the highest level archives.

All warlords have been informed of the fate of Xulien and have been instructed to prepare for a pending conflict with humanity. Many have called for retribution for the loss of one of their own, but it is far more likely that they are eager to secure the honor and prestige of avenging the first ever death of a warlord of the empire.

Star Date 937969

Jump signatures have been reported at the edge of empire space. Scouting details have been dispatched to investigate.

Star Date 937975

All contact with scouting details has been lost.

War Hosts have been ordered to battle stations.

Star Date 937976

Massed fleet of ships detected orbiting colony world of Xu-zin. Orbital facilities report seven hundred ships before destruction.

Emblem of humanity seen on the prow of the lead ships.

Star Date 937981

General public informed of new threat and the destruction of Xu-zin colony world.

Last recorded video files of deadly orbital bombardments released to general public to stir war fervor.

There was no communication made between the human fleet and the colonists below before the attack. Orbital strikes have been reported to have decimated 96% of the planet’s surface and destabilized the orbital rotation.

Star Date 937990

Colonies Ring Reef, Zavens Throne, Dren IV, and Pul have all been destroyed.

Human fleets emerged over each world and bombarded them from orbit until all life on the surface was extinguished.

Science corps believes the humans were able to obtain star chart information from capture war host fleet and are operating with detailed information of the empire.

Warlord Din’mar led his war host over the moon of Xerebeck against a human fleet there. 83% of the war fleet was destroyed before the order to withdraw was given. One human vessel crippled during the engagement.

Star Date 937994

Mid ring worlds breached.

Heavily populated world of Lechen’s Reach attacked by large human fleet of two hundred ships.

Orbital defenses prove stronger deterrent and inflict first confirmed losses to human fleet.

Human fleets retreat to safe distance out of range but do not leave the system.

Star Date 937995

Human fleets surrounding Lechen’s Reach reinforced by a further eight hundred ships and renew assault on planet. Orbital defense platforms decimated by concentrated weapon fire before planet subjected to extensive orbital bombardment.

Star Date 937997

Human’s have gained access to the wider empire broadcasting network and have begun streaming a constant feed of their destruction of the colony and mid ring worlds as well as the destruction of the war fleets for warlords Hentuk, Bendni, Arura, and Hafen.

Government denies all feeds as enemy propaganda but panic across the empire spreads beyond control.

Warlords Zin and Frick have refused all commands from the central government and have taken their fleets elsewhere. They no longer respond to command and are believed to be fleeing with what resources they have at their disposal.

Star Date 938000

Human fleets have finally arrived at the homeworld.

Orbital defenses have fallen an hour ago yet the expected orbital attack has not yet come.

I make this final entry as I see their landing craft breaching the clouds and descending upon my home with trails of fire.

I do not know what horrors they plan to unleash upon us, but I fear that this will be my final day.

I send this last recording now and hope that whoever discovers this will know of my people’s fate and learn from it.

Learn that to stir the beings known as humans, is to stir death itself from its slumber.

[landofspaceandrainbows]

Thanks to @flashfictionfridayofficial for the prompt!

~

Rails, Grian thought, had really come to define his life recently, from the little mini train messaging system he had set up with his neighbor, to the mobile shop he'd been trying to design, just everywhere. And Grian was fey, he was always fey, like whatever, his visits weren't always great, but he found himself wandering into the village and stealing an anvil, someone's anvil for the god's sake. And melting it down, the rails need so much iron. Of course he gave the leftovers to Scar.

And now the rails before him, well they were doing something unusual, going forward and then curving down into the pit, and on them was a mounted drill drilling down. Oh Scar was wonderful, Scar had been busy. And now the chasm stretched deep and he could feel the lava-heat. Scar had described all the things they would find down there in the cave.But Scar was all science, but he was magic, and down was fey too. if you keep delving sooner or later you could wear the veil thin. He wouldn't even know what he had done. and the Below-Fey might look like a pretty eerie, hellish world indeed. Something was whispering in Grian's little faerie mind of the illusion of dark palaces and dark thrones. He'd have so much building to do.

Anyway, he stretched his clear wings and attached his gift to the drill, dangling below the tip by a rope. A few emeralds, but more than that - a couple of titanium and steel trunks (see, he could do science too, god). And he swiftly tacked on a picture of his face and a note, "Ready to pack your bags, Scar? - G. "