#electricians are not allowed inside

[toytulini]

victorian style haunted house that has dysphoria about not being an open concept minimalist hellhole, before we even have those, so it doesnt know why it just feels sooo miserable and has to lash out at everyone inside it, so its wretched and haunted the whole time, until its finally bought by a house flipper in the 2020s who knows JUST how to fix it

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - handle with care

warnings ; oral (f recieving), he hits it from the back, hair pulling, blue collar dick🚨🚨

prompt ; in which your landlord sends an electrician to fix your power, and you end up learning firsthand the magic of blue collar dick.

note ; if you are reading this.. this is a queue’d post while im in MEXICO!!!!! you horny little sluts really thought i would leave you alone for 5 days.. i would never. i figured — hey if i can’t post part 5 of tpod i can at least give a life lesson on blue collar dick, right? backstory here is that the other day my best friend and i had a conversation about our sexy ass landlord and that got me thinking… jungkook..? blue collar..? big dick..? so anyways this is the product of that convo! (and also a standalone one shot bc yall be loving these!)

Later, when someone asks you to recap this story, you’ll say that in your defense, you weren’t expecting the electrician to look like he walked straight off some cringy Pornhub set. You’ll say you just wanted your electricity fixed, not to be spiritually humbled by a man who smells like sawdust and pine.

Your apartment is the kind of place that builds character. And by character, you mean mild trauma.

The kitchen light flickers like it’s been possessed since the day you moved in. The ceiling creaks when your upstairs neighbor sneezes. Your shower only has two settings (arctic and molten lava). There’s a weird stain on the ceiling you’ve been ignoring for three months. And today, of all days, the universe decided to cut the last thread holding your sanity together: the power.

No lights. No working outlets. No WiFi. Which means you’re sitting on your couch, in a hoodie and shorts, trying to hotspot your laptop with 3% battery left while rage-texting your landlord like you’re filing an official grievance with Satan himself.

You immediately text your landlord, fully expecting a five-day delay and a $30 deduction off your next rent.

You: hi. respectfully. what the FUCK is happening?

You: i work from home. i pay rent. i have needs. pls fix ASAP.

He replies five minutes later like he’s doing you a personal favor.

Landlord: sending my guy over. 15 mins.

Your landlord is somehow both your greatest nemesis and your weirdest emotional support system. He’ll ignore three maintenance requests, ghost you for a week, then show up unannounced with a half-eaten bag of Hot Cheetos. You’ve threatened to sue him in writing and sent him a happy birthday meme in the same month. And you’re already halfway into a mental spiral about “his guy” being a 60-year-old with pants that don’t stay up and opinions about the current political climate when there’s a knock at your door.

You swing the door open, fully expecting to see a crusty old man with a clipboard and a wheeze, and instead, you see… (and you’ll remember this moment until the day you die.)

Lip ring. Tattoo sleeve. Tool belt slung low over cargo pants. A black tee stretched across broad shoulders. Jesus Christ, the hair. Dark, slightly shaggy, pushed back on top but long in the back, curling at the nape of his neck in a way that should not be allowed near unsupervised women.

“Hey’,” he says, like this isn’t a pivotal moment in your sexual awakening. “I’m here about the outage?”

You blink at him. You are officially unfit for conversation.

This man has a mullet. A tattooed, lip-ringed, mullet-wearing man is standing in your hallway holding a voltage tester like its foreplay.

Suddenly, your pajama shorts feel too short for this moment. You fumble with the doorknob, “Uh. Yeah. Come in. It’s, uh.. yeah.”

Brilliant. Shakespeare could never.

He steps inside, and holy shit, he’s even taller than you thought. The kind of tall that makes your ceilings feel shorter. The kind of tall where you have to crane your neck just slightly to look up at him, which is offensive because you’re not exactly short yourself. He smells like a mix of sawdust, a hint of pine, laundry detergent, and a 2002 Nissan Altima. It’s oddly specific.

He glances around like he’s surveying a battlefield. “Power cut out completely?”

You nod, shuffling behind him as he moves farther into your apartment with the kind of confidence like he’s somehow been to your home before. His boots thud across your hardwood floor, scuffed and loud. The tool belt clinks. His shirt rides up when he stretches his arm to check something near the ceiling and there’s a flash of golden skin and low-slung cargo pants and—

You’re not doing well.

He pops open the panel in the ceiling like it’s nothing. “Y’all been having issues with this before? Flickering? Dead outlets?”

“Sometimes the kitchen light hums like it’s possessed,” you say, which you regret immediately. “I mean, not literally possessed. Not like.. haunted. Just… you know. Buzzing.”

He chuckles. It’s a low, gravelly sound that sinks its teeth into your spine and doesn’t let go.

“Probably a loose connection in the junction box. Nothing too crazy,” he says, grabbing something from his belt that you will now dream about tonight. “You work from home?”

You nod again, helpless. “Yeah. Marketing.”

He glances back at you. “Tough with no WiFi.”

You turn around under the guise of “letting him work” but really just to text your roommate, Sana, with trembling fingers.

You: help. our power went out and the electrician we got sent is so hot

You: he has a MULLET. a mullet, sana. he said “junction box” and i almost moaned

You hear him grunt softly as he stretches to reach something and you nearly drop your phone.

Sana: SEND A PIC RN

You sneak a glance back — he’s perched on your step stool, arms flexing as he reaches into the ceiling. His hair is curling perfectly at the back of his neck, a little messy from the heat.

You don’t send a pic. You can’t. It feels criminal. You feel like you’re watching live porn with consequences.

Then he speaks again, casually. “You smell something burning last night? Or anything weird before it cut out?”

You nearly say “just my ovaries,” but God reaches down and slaps your mouth shut.

Instead, you clear your throat. “Nope. No sparks, no smell. It just… died this morning.”

He nods, focused. “Might be a fuse then. I’ll check the basement in a sec.”

He drops down from the stool with a casual thud and wipes his hands on that rag in his back pocket. That ass, that rag. This is no longer an apartment. It’s a crime scene.

You glance up just in time to see him walking toward your front door, lifting the back of his shirt to wipe his forehead. You black out for a second.

You: he just wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his shirt. i saw ab muscle. like cut definition. i think it smiled at me.

Sana: you need jail or a CONDOM stat. get his number???

You’re halfway through typing “I don’t even know his name yet” when the front door opens behind you, and you almost launch your phone across the room like it’s a grenade.

He steps back into your apartment with that casual, unbothered energy he’s so good at carrying. Hair slightly damp at the edges now, cheeks pink from the walk up your stairs, tool belt still jingling.

“Basement breaker’s fine,” he says, brushing his palm down the front of his shirt. “Might be a wiring issue. Gonna check one more thing.”

You blink. Nod. Attempt human speech. Fail. “Cool. Yeah. Check… stuff.”

Christ. You sound like you learned English from Duolingo five minutes ago.

He smiles then, actually smiles. Full teeth, little bunny front ones peeking out. His lip ring glints as he does it, and your brain goes completely static for a second.

“Want some water?” you blurt, and immediately hate yourself. “Or iced tea? Or, whatever I have in the fridge that isn’t expired?”

He huffs out a little laugh, shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks, sweetheart.”

You freeze like you’ve been slapped by a porn star. He walks past you again like nothing happened, reaching for something in his tool bag, completely unaware that your soul just evacuated your body.

You unlock your phone immediately, fingers trembling, and text in all caps.

You: HE CALLED ME SWEETHEART.

You: arrest him. make him marry me. i don’t care just make it LEGAL

You barely get the message out when he turns slightly and casually, and says, “So… you live here with your boyfriend, or…?”

You blink hard.

The question hangs there, just slightly too relaxed. Like it’s not loaded with potential. Like it’s not every Wattpad plotline you’ve ever read come to life in front of your half-broken Ikea bookshelf.

Your brain short-circuits harder than your kitchen socket. Is he flirting? Was that… are you being flirted with? It’s been a minute. Like, a long minute since you’ve had someone show genuine interest in you. You can’t tell anymore. He could be asking because he needs to know whose ass he’s about to get chewed out by if he knocks something over, or because he’s just curious.

You manage to croak out, “Just my roommate. Sana.”

He nods and doesn’t press. He lets out a low, distracted, “Hm,” like that’s useful information. Like it slots into place somewhere in his head and he’s okay with it.

You, meanwhile, are mentally drafting a will because you’re not sure your heart’s going to survive the rest of this visit.

He leans over your couch armrest to reach the outlet near the floor. His cargo pants pull slightly tighter around his thighs and you look away so fast you give yourself whiplash. You try to look normal, like a woman who isn’t catastrophically horny over someone adjusting your voltage.

You: HE ASKED IF I HAD A BOYFRIEND

Sana: I AM SCREAMING. I’M IN LINE AT TRADER JOE’S. OFFER TO MAKE HIM LEMONADE OR SIT ON HIS FACE IDK CHOOSE FAST

He stands back up, wiping his palms on that stupid fucking rag again, and glances over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t take much longer,” he quips with that lazy, dangerous smile.

You nod, eyes wide, pretending you’re normal. “Cool. Thanks. No rush or anything. It’s not like I need power to… survive.”

He quirks a brow at that, like he finds you kind of funny, or kind of tragic.

You sit on the couch, phone hidden in your lap like it’s a shameful secret. He crouches near another outlet, testing something with one of those little gadgets that beeps and blinks.

“So, marketing,” he says over his shoulder. “Like… ads?”

You blink. “Uh. Yeah. I work for a beauty brand. Mostly social media, some campaign strategy. Lots of pretending I know what I’m doing and hoping the algorithm doesn’t hate me that day.”

He chuckles. That low, amused sound that makes your toes curl. “That why you’re so good at talking?”

You freeze. “What?”

He glances back, smile creeping in slow and lazy. There’s an unfortunate amount of sarcasm behind his tone. “You seem to stumble a bit over words.”

You blink again, officially out of working brain cells. “Sorry. I—I can stop. I don’t mean to be annoying, I just—”

“I didn’t say it was annoying.” He doesn’t look at you when he says it. He crouches lower again, tapping something against the outlet. But you hear it anyway and feel it, low in your stomach like a dropped elevator.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, blessedly interrupting the moment before you combust.

Sana: girl. do i need to walk around the block or are you gonna fuck him. be honest.

You bite your lip so hard you nearly draw blood. He straightens up, wiping his palms again. “So do you like it? The job?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. It’s… stressful. But fun, sometimes. I guess,” You scratch the back of your neck.

“You good at it?” He grunts out, looking for something in his toolbox.

Your mind blanks. “What?”

He turns to look at you full-on now, arms crossed, shirt clinging to the curve of his shoulders. “Marketing. All that stuff. You good at it?”

You let out a nervous little laugh. “I mean, I hope so. I’ve been doing it for a few years now, and nobody’s fired me yet.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His tone isn’t aggressive. It’s low and relaxed. But something about the way he says it makes your pulse skip.

“I… I think I am,” you say, slower this time.

He nods once as if that answer pleases him. “You seem like you’d be.”

You’re gonna die. You’re going to actually die. This man is being nice to you, and it feels like your body isn’t prepared for that level of stimulus.

You glance at your phone again.

Sana: WHY ARE YOU TAKING THIS LONG TO RESPOND??? IS HIS DICK OUT. BLINK TWICE

You look back up and he’s leaning against the doorframe that divides your kitchen and living room now, arms still crossed, lip ring catching the light. “So your roommate…?”

You nod, trying not to choke. “Yeah. Her name’s Sana. We’ve lived together since college.”

“She at work?” You swear he looks at your legs in your shorts, but could also be wishful thinking.

“Not right now. She works night shifts at the hospital 15 minutes away from here.,” You twiddle your thumbs in your lap.

He hums, still watching you. “So you’re here all alone today.”

It’s not a question. It shouldn’t be hot. It’s just a sentence. But, the way he says it? The tone? The slight lilt at the end, like it means more than it says?

You let out a strangled sound that you hope reads as a laugh. “Yeah. Just me. Alone. In this… apartment. Where you are. Currently.”

He tilts his head, smiling again. “You’re kind of funny for someone with no electricity.”

You hesitate. Then, blurting before you can stop yourself, “And you’re kind of cocky for someone who still hasn’t turned my lights on yet.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk slowly appearing. “Hm?”

You shake your head way too fast. “I mean—just—like, you’ve been here for a bit now and you’re fixing my power and it is taking quite long, but I promise I’m not mad about it.. I’m sorry.”

He lets out a real laugh this time. Full, low, and stupidly hot. He pushes off the wall and walks back toward the kitchen like he didn’t just wreck your central nervous system.

You take another breath and text Sana.

You: he’s flirting. he’s literally flirting. i want to crawl inside the oven

Sana: girl. jump on the counter and say “while you’re fixing things, i’m also broken.”

Almost like he was trying to prove a point to you, the lights come back on with a quiet click, a whirr of electricity humming back to life through your walls, and you swear the sound might as well be a death knell.

He steps back from the panel in your hallway, tapping the side of it with a knuckle like he just fixed your entire infrastructure. “There we go,” he says, “Should be good now. Might’ve just been a loose connection behind the breaker, it’s common in these old buildings.”

You nod slowly, like you understood a single word of that. All you really heard was competency and your brain whispered: breedable.

“That’s… great,” you reply, way too softly. “Thanks.”

He wipes his hands again on that same rag and starts packing up his tools, metal clicking together as he slips things back into place. His forearm flexes with every movement, tattoos shifting across his skin like they’re in on the joke.

“Need help with anything else?” he asks casually, not looking at you as he zips up the tool bag. His voice dips slightly.

Your heart stutters. You should say actually, yeah, my back is acting up and I think the solution involves that couch and maybe you using me like a handrail. But instead you go, “Nope. That’s all.”

Your phone vibrates against your thigh, dragging you back to earth.

Sana: have you ever heard of blue collar dick??? this is ur chance

You squint at that text, thumbs pausing mid-reply.

Blue collar dick.

The phrase unlocks something buried deep in your brain. A memory. A TikTok you watched half-asleep one night at 1:37AM, under the glow of your LED lights, while eating dry cereal out of a mug. The girl had looked straight into the camera, wide-eyed and deadly serious, and whispered: “Blue collar dick is not just a concept. It’s a lifestyle. It’s the kind of unholy grip someone develops on you after a man with calloused hands and a union paycheck fixes your sink and rearranges your soul in the same afternoon.”

You’d laughed. Scoffed, even. How dramatic.

He zips up the last pouch on his tool bag and stands tall, glancing toward the door like he might head that way but he doesn’t. He stays.

He rolls his shoulder a little, absently adjusting the strap, and you watch his fingers drag across the curve of his neck.

“You think everything working alright?” he asks, voice low and unhurried like he’s trying to fill the silence. Like he knows you’re still stuck in some sort of horny trance and he’s being generous enough to let you catch up.

“Yeah,” you say, breathier than intended. “Power’s on. Looks like the WiFi is back. I can check if my laptop came back to life.”

You gesture toward your computer like it matters. Like any of that is worth focusing on when he is standing six feet from you.

He hums, looking around your living room where you’re still on your couch. “Place is cute.”

You blink. “Oh. Uh. Thanks. It’s… falling apart slowly, but charming.”

He doesn’t really acknowledge that. “Anything else broken in here?” he asks, stepping away from the wall a little. “Leaky faucet? Shaky table leg? My dad taught me how to fix a ton of stuff, I’m pretty handy with anything. You want me to check something else?”

Your mouth opens and closes. Your brain struggles to find the words, and the words you want to say are not coming out easily, so you just respond with, “No. I mean… no, I think we’re good. You fixed the lights.”

His eyes flicker and stay on you just a second too long. Then he shifts slightly, sets the tool box down again with a thud, and stretches his arms overhead like he’s got nowhere to be. Shirt rides up just enough for you to see the line of his waistband and the shadow of toned skin beneath it, and you almost bite your tongue off.

“You sure?” he asks again, tone casual, almost amused now. “You looked kinda… bummed when the lights came back on.”

Your head jerks up. “What? No. I wasn’t.. I mean, not bummed. Just surprised. Happy. Grateful. Electrified, if you will.”

Electrified. You’re going to throw yourself off the balcony.

He laughs again, and you swear it vibrates in your chest. “I could hang out a sec,” he offers, and it’s not subtle anymore. “Just make sure everything stays stable. Sometimes the lights will turn back off randomly.”

Everything’s stable, you repeat in your brain like an idiot. I am not.

He’s leaning one shoulder against the wall now, lazy and relaxed, eyes still on you like he’s just waiting to see what you’ll say next.

Before your brain can stop your mouth from doing anything reckless, you blurt out, “Have you eaten?”

His brows lift. “What?”

You clear your throat. “Lunch. Have you had any?”

He tilts his head, eyes flickering down to your mouth for one half-second too long. “Not yet,” he says, “Didn’t get the chance.”

You nod like this is normal. Like offering sandwiches to electricians with tool belts and stupidly sexy mullets is part of your daily routine. “I can make you something if you want.”

His mouth curves, slow and teasing. “Yeah? You feed all the guys your landlord sends over?”

You roll your eyes so hard they nearly eject from your skull. “Only the ones who save me from having to live in darkness.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Then yeah. I’m kinda hungry.”

He walks over to where you’re sitting, drops his bag beside the couch, stretches with a casual groan that shoots straight between your thighs, and flops onto your couch like he’s done it a hundred times. Like your couch is a perfectly acceptable throne for his man-spreading, bicep-showcasing, very-much-staying presence.

You twiddle your fingers, “If i make you food, it’s only right if I get your name.”

Smooth. Real fucking smooth.

“Jungkook,” He looks over to you, trying to bite back a grin. “And yours is [Y/N], right? Saw it on the assignment sheet.”

“Cool,” You gulp down some saliva that was lodged in your throat.

You march to the kitchen like a woman on a mission, flinging the fridge open with the determination of someone prepping for an exorcism. It’s not that you want to impress him. It’s just that… okay. No. You do want to impress him. You want to serve this man a sandwich so good he files a formal complaint against your thighs for being too far from his face.

You find good bread. Not the sad white slices. You find turkey. Cheese. Lettuce that isn’t slimy. A tomato you aggressively pat dry with a paper towel like a psychotic housewife. You toast the bread and add a little mustard. You even cut the sandwich diagonally, because if you’re going to be delusional, you’re going to be domestically deranged about it.

Your phone buzzes for the billionth time.

Sana: DID YOU FUCK HIM YET

You ignore her. You grab a little paper plate with a cup of water and a napkin and present this meal like you are some Michelin chef. You walk it out carefully, feeling like you should have a white linen apron and one of those vintage Coke ads playing behind you.

“Damn,” he says when you hand it to him, voice warm with surprise. “You really went all out.”

You shrug, trying to act chill. “Just a sandwich.”

He takes a bite and groans.“No, this is next level. Wife-tier sandwich.”

Your face goes hot. You sit down beside him on the couch, one cushion away, legs crossed, heart racing. You grab your phone and finally reply to Sana before she drives to the apartment and physically removes you.

You: sana i need you to take a lap. actually take a five-mile lap. this house needs to be mine for two hours minimum.

Sana: i will literally be gone until sunset

You set your phone down and glance at him again. He’s halfway through the sandwich already, clearly enjoying the hell out of it, crumbs on his fingers, lip ring glinting as he chews.

“So,” you say casually, “how’d you get into electrical work?”

He swallows, wipes his mouth, and shrugs. “Started out helping my uncle with his crew back home. Learned enough on the job that I stuck with it. Took the exam, got certified, picked up my own clients.”

“That’s hot,” you say before thinking.

He pauses, blinks, then smirks again. “Yeah?”

You want to shrivel into the cushions. “I mean, just like the hands-on thing. Fixing stuff. Being good with your hands.”

He glances at you, faintly amused. “It’s a bold choice… Flirting with the guy who knows your wires inside out better than you ever could.”

You’ve made your decision. You’ve committed to the bit. You’re going to have him. You don’t care how. You don’t care if it’s a terrible idea. You’re already halfway there, and if blue collar dick is a myth, you’d like to be the one to confirm or deny it firsthand. You smile, tilting your head. “I like living on the edge.”

He finishes the sandwich and sets the plate on your coffee table with a little sigh. “Damn. Guess I should’ve been in this line of work sooner.”

You let out a soft laugh, glancing at him through your lashes like you’re not actively in the process of losing your mind.

He shifts slightly on the couch, one arm thrown casually along the back cushion, knee brushing yours now, and your whole body tightens at the contact. You look down at his hand, rough, calloused, fingers spread just enough to imagine what they’d feel like anywhere else.

Focus. Focus.

“So,” you start, aiming for casual but landing somewhere around unhinged, “do you, like… do this for a lot of people?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Fix electricity?”

You laugh too fast. “No! Well, yeah. I mean. Yes. But like… do you do this for one person a lot? Regularly? Like… someone special. Like a client. A consistent client.”

He’s still watching you, brows slightly raised, clearly trying to follow your logic. “Huh?”

You look down, embarrassed. Shit. Too subtle. You double back. “Sorry, I meant… like… is there someone who, you know, gets their power fixed all the time? Like a… girlfriend?”

Oh my god. Girlfriend. You say it like you’ve never spoken English before, like the concept of casual inquiry never existed.

His lips tugging up like he knows exactly what you’re asking. “Nah,” he replies. “No girlfriend.”

He reaches for the glass of water you’d set on the coffee table earlier, and you watch his throat work as he takes a slow gulp. His lip ring catches the light again, and your brain completely flatlines.

No girlfriend.

No girlfriend. That’s… fine. That’s great. That’s also dangerous.

Your heart is pounding so loud in your ears you barely register that he hasn’t looked away. When he sets the glass down again, his eyes don’t drift back to his phone or the room or the vague distance.

They stay locked on you.

You shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of how close you’re sitting. His fingers are still relaxed against the couch cushion, a breath away from the curve of your shoulder.

“Should I expect a full background check with your next outage?”he says, voice low now.

You’re officially in the danger zone now with no intentions of stopping. “Already ran yours. Five star reviews all around. “

He chuckles, quietly. “I’m honored.”

Your breath catches. It’s a small sound. Barely audible. But his gaze dips lower at the sound of it, flickering between your mouth and your throat. He doesn’t hide it anymore. There’s no playfulness left.

“Stop staring” you mutter, trying to keep your voice even.

He lifts a brow. “I’m not.”

“Are you… thinking about kissing me?” This is worse than that one time in 10th grade when you got put in a closet with your crush and you practically slammed him against the door begging him to kiss you.

However, Jungkook doesn’t smile or smile. His gaze lingers on your lips still like he’s counting the seconds. “Would that be a problem?”

Your stomach drops. The air between you turns solid. “No,” you say softly. “It’d be the opposite of a problem.”

He doesn’t move right away, or lunge and lean in. He lets the silence fill with heat, with potential, like he wants you to feel the choice stretch out and make sure you want it just as much as he does. (Is he insane? Of course you do)

You want him to kiss you so bad it’s physically painful. Every nerve in your body is waiting for it, screaming for it, for the weight of his hand on your jaw, the feel of his lip ring pressing into yours.

You inch just slightly closer and your knee brushes against his fully now. Your face is tilted up toward his without even thinking.

“Are you gonna?” you whisper, voice barely there.

His eyes flicker again and then he smiles. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He leans in, not in some clumsy rush. He drags it out just long enough for you to feel your whole body tense with anticipation. His hand finds your jaw first, thumb brushing your cheek, fingers curling gently under your chin.

And then his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you like it’s his job, like he’s done this a thousand times but still finds something new in the shape of your lips. His mouth moves with intention, none of that awkward fumbling, none of the soft, shy hesitation. It’s confident. His lip ring drags against your lower lip and you actually whimper, because of course he knows how to use it.

He groans low in his throat when your fingers knot in the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. One hand slips around the back of your neck, the other finding your waist, pulling you across the couch and into him like he can’t stand even a breath of space between you.

He tastes like faint mint and the sandwich you made him. Your legs shift, tangling with his. His hand is already on your thigh, rough palm skimming under the hem of your shorts, gripping hard enough to make your breath stutter into his mouth.

You gasp when he bites down lightly, but enough to make you feel it. He soothes it with a kiss immediately after, dragging his mouth down your jaw, and murmurs into your skin, “You’re a good kisser.”

You could die. You could die right now and it would be worth it.

You tilt your head back to give him more access, voice breathless. “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself.”

That earns you another groan, this one deeper, more possessive. His hand slides up your side, under your hoodie, fingers grazing bare skin and making your back arch instinctively.

He kisses you again, messier now and wetter. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing. His fingers sink into your thigh, pull you closer until you’re practically straddling him on the couch and you feel him, hard beneath his cargo pants, pressed against your hip like a threat.

“You sure you don’t need anything else fixed?” he murmurs against your mouth.

And all you can do is nod, eyes heavy, hands trembling against his chest as you whisper: “Hmm. I think my body is out of order. Needs fixing.”

Big hands grip your thighs, and with one swift, greedy motion, he’s pushing you back into the couch cushions. You land with a quiet gasp, hair fanned out, lips swollen, hoodie riding up over your stomach.

He’s hovering, body caged above yours, weight pressed into one arm braced beside your head, the other skimming up your waist and dragging your hoodie even higher. His silver chain dangles loose from his neck and every time he leans down to kiss you again, it smacks against your throat, cold and heavy, sending a shiver straight through you.

He groans when you arch up into him, letting your hips roll slightly, needy and desperate, and he feels it, feels how bad you want him and how worked up you are.

His bicep flexes beside your head, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you but you kind of wish he would. You let your hand drift up, fingertips grazing the muscle slowly, shamelessly.

Holy fuck, he’s strong.

Strong in the way that makes your thighs press together, that makes you want to find out what else those arms can hold you down against. You squeeze just a little, test the resistance, and he grins against your lips.

“That’s what you’re thinkin’ about?” he murmurs, dragging his mouth to your neck now, teeth grazing your jaw. “My arms?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your brain is literally melting.

He licks a stripe up the side of your throat and bites, just enough to make you whimper, and the damn chain swings again, cold against the same spot.

“You like that?” he asks, “Hmm?”

You nod frantically, whining. You’re gone.

His hand slides down to grip your thigh again, hiking it up around his waist, and the angle has you gasping. His hips dip into yours just enough to make it obvious: he’s hard, and he’s not even trying to hide it now.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” he mutters, biting your earlobe. “Since you fed me and everything. Feels only fair.”

You nod again, breathless. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he says, lips brushing yours. “Been thinkin’ about kissing you since the second you opened that door.”

His hands are already slipping under the hem of your hoodie, thumbs dragging across the skin of your waist as he mutters, low and sinful, “Lift your hips for me.”

You do instantly and he slides your shorts down so slowly it feels like punishment. They snag slightly at your thighs before he gets them off, flinging them somewhere over the armrest, and then he just stares. Lets his eyes drag from your knees to the place between your thighs like he’s about to pray and commit a felony in the same breath.

You’re not even fully naked, but you already feel exposed. Every part of you twitching with anticipation because the way this man looks at you? It’s like he already knows what you taste like.

He lowers himself, right between your knees and spreads your legs open with two hands and drags your body closer to him.

“You’re already shaking,” he whispers, lips brushing along the inside of your thigh. “What’s got you so worked up, sweetheart?”

You want to answer. You try to answer. But then he presses a kiss right above your knee, then lower and lower. It’s like he’s savoring every inch of you, kissing a trail up your thigh like you’re dessert and he’s been starving all day.

When he finally gets to your underwear, he lets out a low hum.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, thumb dragging along the edge. “You’re soaked.”

You choke on your own spit. He hooks his fingers under the waistband, and looks up at you, eyes dark. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching him like you’re in a live-action fantasy, because that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Gonna take these off now,” he says, almost too gently.

You nod like a bobblehead. “Please.”

He tugs them down painfully slow, and when they slip off your legs and drop to the floor, he doesn’t even hesitate. He just dives in.

Tongue flat, broad, ruthless against you, dragging through your folds. You jolt, hips bucking off the couch, and his hands immediately slide up to pin you down, fingers bruising your thighs as he holds you in place.

He moans into you, tongue curling, lips wrapping around your clit with slow, maddening pressure. The suction makes you cry out, hand flying to grab at his hair, soft, messy strands you curl your fingers into.

“Fuck, J-Jungkook,” you gasp. His grip tightens on your thighs in response. He flattens his tongue again, licking long and slow, nose nudging against your clit just enough to make your legs shake. Then he shifts, tilts his head just slightly, and flicks the tip of his tongue in tight, fast circles.

You swear you see God.

He doesn’t stop, and it’s obscene how good it is. You can hear it. Mapping out every flick, every swirl, every suck that makes your thighs twitch and your head fall back in helpless, high-pitched whines.

He’s so good at it, it’s almost infuriating. Like he’s been training for this specific moment, like he knew your body before you ever laid eyes on his goddamn toolbelt.

“Shit,” you whimper, your fingers gripping the edge of the couch like you’ll fall off the earth if he keeps going.

He pulls back barely, enough to murmur against your soaked skin, “What’s that, sweetheart?”

You look down at him, wide-eyed and desperate, and the sight makes your stomach flip.

His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, locked on yours with zero shame. His lips are wet, his lip ring gleaming, his chain dragging down your thigh. His hands are still gripping your legs tight. “You’re already shaking,” he taunts, “You gonna fall apart before I even get my fingers in?”

You let out a sound you don’t recognize. Your hips buck without permission, trying to chase more friction, more pressure, anything, and he laughs.

“Thought you were gonna take it,” he mutters, kissing your inner thigh again, right where it’s already slick. “Thought you were tough.”

“Jungkook,” Your voice breaks.

“Yeah, baby?” he smiles, “Want more?”

You nod frantically. “Please. Please, please.”

“Mmhmm.” He drags his tongue back up, slow and torturous. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want—” you gasp as he suckles your clit again, just hard enough to make your legs spasm. “I want your fingers please. I can’t—”

“You can,” he says, way too calm. “You’re gonna. Not done with you yet.”

He slides one hand down between your thighs, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, slow and unhurried. You feel the first press of his fingertip at your entrance and it’s over.

When he finally pushes in just one thick finger, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. It feels so good, too good.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he notes more to himself than to you. “Fuck. Gripping already.”

He curls his finger and you practically wail. You slap a hand over your mouth but he sees it, and then lowers his mouth back down to your clit like he’s starving for it.

His tongue and his finger move in tandem. Circles and pressure and heat all at once, building you up, pushing you higher, dragging desperate sounds out of you that you’ve never made before.

“Jungkook, fuck, please,” you sob, grabbing at his hair. “Please, I need—”

“You need what?” he murmurs against you, adding a second finger slowly, the stretch perfect, his mouth never leaving your clit.

“I need, need to cum, please—”

“Nah,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours as his fingers start to fuck into you even deeper, “Not yet.”

You’re near tears at this point.

He flattens his tongue and moans into you, and your hips jerk off the couch. Your hands are clutching at him now, your stomach tightening, thighs trembling around his head as he talks you through it.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he exhales, eyes locked on your face. “All needy and loud. Fuck, baby. I could eat you all day.”

You’re so close it hurts. He can feel it, the way your walls clench around his fingers, sucking him in.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, voice hoarse against you. “Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

And you do, embarrassingly hard. It crashes over you like a power surge, hot and fast and blinding. Your hips jerk, your mouth drops open in a silent cry, and you’re cumming so hard you forget your own name.

He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, until your legs are shaking uncontrollably and you’re pushing at his shoulder with a broken gasp.

Still, he doesn’t let up. His tongue is relentless, fingers even more ruthless. You’re sweating, teary-eyed and so close you’re practically vibrating, when you finally snap.

“Jungkook,” you moan, throat raw. “I need you to fuck me. Please. I can’t—“

That gets him to cease. He pulls back, mouth soaked, lip ring gleaming. His hand lingers between your thighs for a second longer before he pushes himself up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, panting.

You reach up, fingers clutching the front of his shirt, dragging him down so you can kiss him. You taste yourself on his tongue, and it just makes it worse, makes you needier.

He stands up, stripping down as fast as humanly possible. The black tee comes off first, revealing a chest that’s all muscle, abs that flex when he tosses the shirt aside. Then the cargo pants get shoved down, and…

Holy fucking shit.

It swings free and heavy into his palm, and you gasp.

That’s what they meant by blue collar dick. Thick, veiny, the prettiest goddamn cock you’ve ever seen. Long, curved just right, flushed and leaking at the tip as he wraps his hand around the base and starts stroking himself, slow and lazy.

He tilts his head back with a low groan, lashes fluttering, chain swinging over his chest and you just stare.

You’ve seen good dick before. You’ve had great dick, even. This is different. This is the kind of dick that installs central air and breaks bed frames. The kind that fucks through creaky floorboards, says “good girl” like a prophet, and pays in cash everywhere.

“Yeah?” he rasps, still jerking himself slowly, eyes dark as he looks down at you. “You want it, baby?”

You nod like your life depends on it. “Please. Need it so bad.”

He doesn’t waste another second. “Turn over,” he says, voice commanding. “Face down, ass up. I want that spine arched.”

You scramble to obey, flipping onto your stomach, shoving your hoodie up out of the way. You bury your face in the couch cushion, arms stretched forward, hips high in the air and the sound Jungkook makes behind you is inhuman.

“Fucking hell,” he licks his lips, hands gripping your hips, thumbs spreading you open. “Look at you.”

You feel him line up behind you, thick head sliding through your slick folds, teasing but not pushing in yet, and your whole body twitches.

“You’re perfect like this,” he says, one hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades until your arch deepens. “Back all pretty, ass in the air, soaked for me. Fuck, baby.”

He leans forward, voice rasping hot in your ear. “You gonna take it for me like this, yeah? Gonna let me fuck you nice and deep?”

You moan out, whimpering into the pillow. “Yes. Yes, please.”

“Atta girl.”

He pushes in slow, allowing you to feel every inch. You feel the thick, burning stretch of him as he sinks in deeper, splitting you open around his cock. Your breath catches on a whimper, eyes rolling back as he fills you.

“Fuuuuck,” you choke out, voice strangled. “You’re so big.”

Behind you, Jungkook lets out a guttural groan.

“Yeah?” he rasps, still sliding in, forcing your walls to open around him. “That too much for you, baby?”

You shake your head, barely able to breathe, cheek pressed into the cushion. “No, no, it’s so good, just, fuck—”

He bottoms out, hips flush against your ass, and you swear you see stars. You’re so full it’s almost unbearable, like he’s in your stomach, You’ve never felt anything like it; your walls clenching, dripping, pulsing and he’s barely even moved yet.

He pulls out halfway and slams back in, then does it again… and again… and again.

His pace is brutal, deep, pounding thrusts that send shockwaves through your spine and bounce off the walls. Skin slapping, the obscene wet squelch of your cunt sucking him in over and over, the couch creaking beneath you. You’re a full mess under him, and he’s moaning now too.

“Fuck,”Jungkook growls behind you, breath ragged. “You hear that? You hear how wet you are for me?”

You do. The sound of your pussy squelching around his cock is loud, echoing with every thrust as your juices coat his length and drip down your thighs onto the couch cushions below.

“Fucking soaked,” he growls again, hips snapping into you.

His hand finds your hair, grabbing a fistful at the base of your neck and pulling. Your head lifts from the pillow you grabbed from nearby in a panic, back arched to its limit, body bent like a bowstring as he fucks into you harder now that he has you right where he wants you.

“Taking it so good, baby,” he pants, yanking your head back just enough to make you moan. He keeps pounding into you, dragging that cock so deep it feels like he’s carving himself into your soul, keeping your head held high by your hair, whispering filth that makes your legs shake.

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” he growls, tone thick and mean. “Wanna fall apart right here on my cock?”

You’re shaking too hard to answer, all that’s coming out are some babbles you nor him have any energy to interpret. Somehow, your brain flashes back to that fucking TikTok. That girl that described “blue collar dick” like it was some natural disaster.

Now you’re living it.

You’re bent over on your own couch, spine arched, tears in your eyes, unable to even think as Jungkook wrecks you with his cock and whispers filthy praise in your ear like it’s his job. This is blue collar dick. This is the goddamn thesis statement of that TikTok. You’re going to send that girl flowers.

“Please,” you cry, “Please, Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he pants, breath hot against your neck as his fingers reach down and work your clit cruelly enough to keep you from tipping over. “That desperate for it, sweetheart?”

You nod, choking out sobs, your body twitching around him, clenching hard enough that he starts to fall apart.

“Fuck,” he groans, cock twitching inside you. “You’re so tight. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum before you do.”

You moan loud into the pillow, your whole body wrecked and burning, still locked in this purgatory he’s created, his cock fucking you deep and hard, his fingers rolling over your clit with precision, holding you right there.

“Say it,” he growls, “Tell me how bad you need it.”

“I need it, please, I need it so bad. I can’t, I’m so close, please let me cum.” Your self -control has exited the apartment.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he grits out behind you, “Fuck, baby, feel how tight you are? How bad your pussy wants to cum for me?”

You can’t answer. You’re drooling into the pillow, gasping, your body jerking with every thrust like you’re being electrocuted.

“Let go,” he groans, voice shaking. “You’re gonna cum for me now, yeah? Go on, baby. Fucking cum.”

The second his thumb presses tightly just right against your clit, you shatter. It hits you like a wave. Your body locks up, thighs clenching, back arching so hard it lifts your hips even higher as your orgasm rips through you, hot and overwhelming. You scream as your pussy clenches around his cock, pulsing and gushing as you cum so hard your vision goes white.

Your arms give out completely. You collapse forward onto the couch with a breathless sob, ass still arched up as your cunt throbs around him, wetness dripping down your thighs in sticky trails. Your face is buried in the cushion, your legs are trembling.

“Oh my fuck,” Jungkook groans, “Just like that. You feel that, baby? Feel how good it is when you cum on me?”

He curses, pulls out fast and you let out a weak little cry at the loss, at the ache he leaves behind.

But then he’s jerking himself over you, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, wrist snapping fast, hips stuttering as he pants over you, chasing his own high.

His head tilts back, bottom lip tucked under his top teeth. A deep, broken moan is ripped straight from his chest as his hips twitch forward and he spills across the curve of your ass in thick, hot ropes. His chain swings with the motion, clinking gently as he fucks his fist through it, painting your skin in messy, perfect streaks.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he groans, his eyes squeezed shut. “You’re… fuck, baby. You’re unreal.”

You’re too far gone to speak.

You stay face-down on the couch for a full minute post-impact, naked and glazed like a donut.

Jungkook exhales somewhere behind you, like he too is processing the life-altering events that just occurred in your living room. You hear his body move as he leans back, chest rising and falling, the distinct sound of a man who just came so hard he forgot his social security number.

There’s cum on your ass. Your hair’s stuck to your cheek. The throw pillow has a bite mark in it. You are not well.

You finally lift your head a fraction of an inch. “I think I just met God.”

Jungkook lets out a soft, post-nut laugh. “Yeah?” he rasps. “Tell him I said hi.”

You look over at him from where you’re sprawled out on the couch, now on your stomach. “…So do I owe you money, or…?”

He snorts. “For what?”

“For fixing my power?” You say it like it’s obvious.. which it should be.

Jungkook leans over and smacks your ass, casual, affectionate. “Nah. This one’s on the house.”

Eventually, he helps you sit up, grabbing the nearest clean towel in your bathroom like this is all completely normal. You look at each other and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry or call your landlord and thank him for being so aggressively useless.

You’ll deal with that later.

Right now, you accept the towel, take a shaky breath. You blink at him, dazed, legs still jelly. “So if I break something else… just a hypothetical, should i call you..?”

He smirks, tugs his pants back up without bothering to button them, and says, “Depends. If you break something else, I expect a personal invitation. No middleman this time.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[natalievoncatte]

The heat was getting to be a problem.

The power had been out in National City for three days, and those three days were expected to be among the hottest of the year. Lena was, frankly, desperate.

You might think that she’d have it easy, but anyone who would think that a penthouse in a skyscraper would be easy to cool would quickly be disabused of that notion. The windows mostly didn’t open and having the balcony doors spread wide did next to nothing when the breeze felt like opening an oven, even up here.

It had been Alex’s suggestion, sent by text.

Why don’t you go to Kara’s? The loft is pretty breezy.

She was right, of course. When Lena arrived, Kara had every one of her huge loft windows open, allowing the breeze to flow freely through the open, airy space.

There was another problem, though.

When Kara opened the door, Lena nearly keeled over. Kara was wearing a sports bra and shorts so short they barely deserved the name, exposing a vast amount of golden, sun-kissed skin. Worse, her gloriously muscled stomach and shoulders glistened with sweat.

Lena was surprised to see that the heat bothered her, but it clearly did. Kara had forgone her glasses, too, and after she opened the door, she swept the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed.

“Hi,” Lena squeaked.

“Hi yourself. Hot out there?”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Come in, come in,” said Kara.

Lena stepped inside, forcing herself not to stare at Kara’s thick thighs and the swell of her chest under straining fabric. Was that zipper some advanced Kryptonian technology?

“Want something to drink?”

“Isn’t your fridge dead, too?”

“Yeah, but I cheat. Watch.”

Kara slipped a bottle of water out of a pack on her counter and breathed on it. Ice crystals formed on the surface and the water visibly chilled. It shocked Lena when she accepted it and the cold water on her lips was bliss. Lena let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of cold spreading through her chest, cooling her body.

When she opened her eyes, Kara was the one staring. Lena had thrown on a short, a-frame sun dress that bared her back, for no other reason than making sure that her skin could have as much surface exposed to the air to evaporate and cool her down as possible.

“So what are you up to?” Lena asked.

Kara gestured to the notebook and stacks of papers on the table.

“Old-fashioned journalism, I guess. My laptop battery died yesterday.”

“I thought you’d be out there trying to fix the power.”

Kara shrugged. “With what, my super-electrician powers?”

Lena shot her a look, raising her brow.

Kara turned away, heading for the windows.

Oh, Jesus, Lena thought.

It wasn’t as if Lena hadn’t… noticed Kara’s physique. She wasn’t blind, after all. They’d taken spin class together, and Kara liked to wear leggings on the weekends.

But holy shit, those shorts made her ass look… Super.

Lena was still fumbling over a buns of steel pun in her head when Kara turned back.

“Hey, you okay? Your heart raced for a second there.”

“F-fine,” said Lena.

“Alex and the others are coming over tonight for an emergency game night,” said Kara. “I better get ready.”

For the next couple of hours, Lena helped Kara neaten up her apartment and prepare non-perishable snacks and a cooler full of beer and wine coolers, chilled care of Kara. Alex and Kelly were the first to show up, with Alex giving Lena a cheeky look as she walked into the apartment.

“Hey, you two,” she said. “Been having a hot time?”

There was something brittle in Kara’s laugh that set Lena a little on edge, and the Danvers sisters shared one of those looks they shared that made Lena wonder if they could communicate telepathically. Whatever the message was, it made Kara look away first, distracting with an offered beer that Alex gladly accepted.

Lena took a wine cooler, wishing it were wine.

Nia and Brainy showed up next, followed by J’onn, who was the only one fully dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis, while everyone else was dressed for the beach or a track meet.

Lena sat on the floor, because the hardwood was cool under her butt, and leaned back against Kara’s couch. Kara sat beside her and Lena’s heart definitely sped up.

Looking over, it was hard to tear her eyes away. Kara made a magnificent display- the blocky weight of her shoulders, full biceps and strong arms and bulky, sculpted forearms. Lena’s eyes followed the vein on the back of Kara’s arm down the back of her strong hand and the elegant lengths of her fingers.

Kara kept her nails neatly trimmed like that because of Supergirl duties, right?

Right?

“Hey Luthor? You having a heat stroke?” said Alex. “You look spaced out over there.”

Alex had a playful grin plastered on her face, though she too was sweating profusely. A cooler breeze rolled in through the big windows and everyone sighed in delight.

Except J’onn. “What shall we play first?” she said.

“Clue!” Nia chirped.

“Brainy always kicks our ass at Clue,” said Alex, “and I am not playing Monopoly with a literal billionaire again.”

“Perhaps we should play Risk,” said J’onn, rifling through the game shelf.

“We could try Twisted,” Kara suggested in a deadpan voice.

Lena swallowed hard, thinking of herself tangled up on the mat with Kara, clothes glued to their skin by sweat, salty skin sliding against salty skin, the scent of her…

“Earth to Lena,” said Alex. “Got any ideas?”

“Exploding Kittens,” said Lena. “We haven’t done that one in a while.”

“Kara, chill us some cold ones, will you?” said Nia.

Once everyone had a rapidly warming drink, Brainy dealt the cards and the game began. Alex called Kara out for peeking several times, with that loaded Danvers Sisters Look and an almost predatory smirk.

She wasn’t the only one peeking.

Lena participate in the game but her mind was elsewhere, specifically the valley of Kara’s broad back, where sweat gathered between her muscles and rain down in heavy beads, or the sweat gathering along her collarbone or sparking along the lush inner curves of her tightly contained breasts.

“Hey,” said Kara. “It’s your turn, Lena.”

Then she reached over and brushed damp lock of inky hair out of Lena’s eyes.

She could have melted. She swallowed hard, brushed the sweat from her brow, and made a hasty and wasteful play that would probably cost her any chance of winning, but she didn’t care. The game seemed at most a distant concern.

Kara’s tongue glazing along her soft pink lips was much more interesting. They’d pretty much all given up on makeup but Kara was still positively radiant, soft and inviting and homey in a way that made Lena ache in her chest.

And, uh, other places.

It was full dark now, so they finished the game and Kara and Alex got up to light a few candles.

“This is like camping,” said Nia.

“We should have thought to procure ‘marshmallows’, said Brainy. “Kara could toast them with her heat vision.”

“We hardly need more heat. I’m boiling,” said Lena.

J’onn let out a soft grunt. “It’s my turn to go on patrol. I think I’ll be the first to head out.

Everyone gave their goodbyes as he headed out the window. The others huddled closer around the table, lit by the candle sitting in the middle.

“We should tell scary stories,” said Alex. “Like around a campfire.”

“Since it was your idea, you go first,” said Kelly.

Alex leaned into it with abandon, leaning in over the table as she started spinning a campfire yarn that Lena quickly recognized as The Hook.

Kara edged closer, until her bare thigh pressed against Lena. She leaned in close, and it wouldn’t have taken much for Lena to… rest her head on Kara’s shoulder. It just kind of happened, Kara’s scent filling her nostrils as she turned into Kara.

Lena flinched as Kara shot her a concerned look.

She can hear my heartbeat.

Kara must have thought Lena was scared, because she casually slipped an arm around her.

Lena’s breath caught. Kara’s powerful arm rested lazily around her hip and her relaxed hand rested on Lena’s thigh, fingers placed lightly on bare skin.

It was a powerfully possessive gesture, not just protective but… more. Lena shifted a little and let herself completely fall against Kara.

Alex kept on telling the story, her gaze pausing heavily on the two of them as she scanned the room. Brainy looked bored but Nia looked genuinely petrified and Kelly was looking at her wife with the kind of adoring reference that was currently plastered on Lena’s face as she looked up at Kara.

Alex reached the crescendo of the story and Lena let out a little gasp, turning her face into Kara’s neck, more for the sake of it than out of fear. Kara’s hand stroked lazily up and down her back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone get you,” Kara whispered.

“You two okay over there?” said Alex.

“Fine,” said Kara.

“There are two actual couples here and you two are the ones doing the heavy petting.”

They weren’t heavy petting. Okay sure, Lena had her fingers curled around Kara’s hip and Kara’s hand was staring to pass the platonic zone when stroking her back but…

Oh.

“It’s getting late,” said Kelly. “Maybe we should head home.”

“Agreed,” said Nia. “Come on, Brainy.”

Lena and Kara didn’t get up.

The others did, piling out of the apartment. Alex went last, shooting Kara another of those damned looks, smiling like a self-satisfied cat after a big stretch.

The door closed and Kara yawned.

“Mind if I stay?” Lena said, quickly. “My place is just too hot to sleep.”

“Of course,” Kara said softly.

Lena didn’t move. They were alone now, the apartment dark except for candles that threw flickering shadows and made Kara even more ethereal. Lena could barely believe someone so gorgeous could be real.

“Lena,” Kara said quietly. “Have you ever thought about…” she trailed off.

“About what?”

“Us. What we are to each other.”

“Yes,” said Lena.

“Me too.”

“What are you thinking?” Lena asked.

“You’re my best friend. You mean more to me than basically anyone else, and the thought of you has kept me going through some really dark times.”

When Kara smiled for her, her eyes lit up, sparkling in the candlelight, like moonlight dancing on nighttime waves. She was entrancing.

“I…” Lena began. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as just a friend. There’s more on the table if you want it.”

“More like… kissing?”

“Yes, exactly.”

This was actually happening. It was real, not a daydream or a fantasy. Kara moved with agonizing slowness, full of a gentle, kind intensity as she leaned down and lightly brushed her lips across Lena’s.

It was like being tossed in a tub of ice water… in a good way. Lena shivered as Kara cupped her jaw and went for another kiss, more forcefully this time, more insistent. The breathed as one.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

She couldn’t help it. Lena dragged her tongue over Kara’s skin, tasting the sweat pooled at the base of her neck. Kara let out a low moan followed by a deep basso rumble in her chest, pulsating in time with her breathing.

“Did you just lick my sweat?”

“Are you purring?!”

Kara giggled. “I can do lots of things.”

Lena looked up at her with lidded eyes. “Oh yeah? Show me what you got.”

She squeaked as Kara picked her up in a single smooth motion, and with a self-satisfied smirk, carried her towards the bed.

Later, as they lay in a tangle of perspiring limbs atop sweat-soaked sheets, the power thumped back on and the air conditioning began to blow over them, chilling Lena’s skin.

She barely noticed.

[gin-juice-tonic]

You guys can read more of what I wrote for that episode if you want.

It connects back to this post about candy asking dipper and mabel for help with the man who lives in her attic, continuing from there

INTRO: https://gin-juice-tonic.tumblr.com/post/677209717915959296/this-is-how-the-episode-starts

(needs re-writing)

CANDY, MABEL, AND DIPPER ARE WALKING UP THE PATH TO CANDY’S FRONT DOOR.

CANDY: I heard you were called like, the “mystery twins!” now. So I thought maybe you could help me with my mystery.

DIPPER, SLIGHTLY EMBARRASSED: Well, that’s more of a working title, but it’s not really importa-

MABEL: Ohhhh I’m so excited to see inside your house, Candy! I hope it’s exactly like my dreams.

CANDY: I’ve had a few dreams of your house as well! Though, I hope it would be nothing like my dreams. It’s usually made of indescribable geometric shapes, shifting forms at high speeds.

CANDY: The furniture is very uncomfortable.

ALL: ...  

CANDY, DIPPER, AND MABEL ALL ENTER CANDY’S HOUSE. 

CANDY: Well, welcome to my home. Please take off your shoes.

IT IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH STUFFED ANIMALS (SHOW SEVERAL SHOTS OF ABSURD AMOUNT OF STUFFED ANIMALS)

[MABEL SCREAMS]

[MABEL AND DIPPER TAKE OFF SHOES WHILE LOOKING AT HOUSE]

MABEL: AOOHHH!!! Candy!!! It’s like a build a bear exploded in here! It’s all I’ve ever wished for!

DIPPER: You wish for build a bears to explode? [MABEL SMILES AND NODS]

CANDY: The plushies are all my mom’s. She's been collecting them since before I was born. She likes to display them around the house in various everyday situations. 

CANDY: See? Those two are on their first date. 

[SHOT OF CUTE ANIMALS ON DATE]

MABEL: Aww!

CANDY: And those two are rerouting the wires put in by the shoddy electrician who built this place in the 80s.

[SHOT OF TOY BEARS DOING DANGEROUS REAL ELECTRICAL WORK]

MABEL AND DIPPER LOOK OVER MILDLY CONFUZZLED: Huh.

CANDY: But anyway, we have more important things to discuss. Please sit down. 

CANDY GESTURES TO A SECTIONAL COUCH WRAPPED AROUND A TABLE

[CANDY AND MABEL TAKE THEIR SEATS, STUFFED ANIMALS ARE STILL EVERYWHERE - INCLUDING AROUND THE COUCH]

DIPPER IS FORCED TO SIT NEXT TO ONE OF THOSE CUTESY DOG ANIMAL PLUSHIES WITH THE BUTT-HOLES ON THEM. IT’S ON A SHELF EYE LEVEL WITH HIS HEAD. HE IS CLEARLY UNHAPPY ABOUT THIS. (S&P would likely not allow this. I do not care)

DIPPER, TURNING HIS HEAD AWAY FROM THE PLUSHY’S BUTT: So… what’s the deal with this attic guy you’re asking us about? 

CANDY CLOSES HER EYES AND MAKES A GRAVE EXPRESSION

CANDY: The Attic Man has been in my life for as long as I can remember. Always stomping around in the ceiling and scratching around in the walls when he knows I’m home alone. The closet in my room has a door connecting up to the attic… Sometimes, when I stay up too late, I can feel his eyes stare at me.

CANDY OPENS HER EYES

CANDY: I’m pretty sure he comes in my room when I’m asleep, and I spend every night wondering when he’s finally going to come down and take me away.

CANDY TURNS OFF A FLASHLIGHT SHE HAD BEEN USING FOR MOOD LIGHTING

MABEL: That’s so scary! What does he look like?

CANDY: I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen him. 

DIPPER: You’ve never seen him? How do you know it’s not just a racoon or something? 

CANDY: I’ve had my parents check up there more than a few times. They looked and set out traps, but have never found anything. If it was an animal, it would’ve been caught by now. He must be something at least as smart as a man to have evaded capture for so long.

CANDY: Additionally, the other day, I found… This. My first concrete proof of his existence.

[CANDY HOLDS UP A GUM WRAPPER]

DIPPER: You found some trash? 

CANDY: Not just any trash, Dipper. A gum wrapper! And look!

[CANDY OPENS UP THE WRAPPER TO SHOW THE GUM CHALKY RESIDUE STUFF INSIDE. ITS PINKISH]

[DIPPER AND MABEL LOOK AT EACH OTHER] 

CANDY: It’s cinnamon. Nobody in my family likes cinnamon gum! It’s disgusting! 

[CANDY GIVES THE WRAPPER TO MABEL]

[MABEL LICKS THE WRAPPER]

MABEL: Blegh!

MABEL, SURPRISED: Gasp! It is! 

MABEL HANDS THE WRAPPER TO DIPPER.

DIPPER INSPECTS THE WRAPPER INVESTIGATIVELY: So all we have to go off of is a cinnamon gum wrapper… 

DIPPER PUTS HIS TONGUE ON IT ABSENTMINDEDLY

DIPPER MAKES A GROSSED OUT FACE: (quietly) eugh.

DIPPER: -That could’ve been dropped by anyone.

CANDY: Do YOU know anyone who likes cinnamon gum?

DIPPER: Well… no. But-

[NOISES THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY NOT A RACCOON ECHO FORM THE CEILING]

[EVERYONE LOOKS AT THE CEILING IN SHOCK]

[CANDY AND MABEL LOOK AT DIPPER]

DIPPER: Okay. Those noises did sound pretty mannish. I maintain the gum still could’ve been dropped by anyone though.

(cut to black - commercial)

CANDY, STEALING A BRIEFCASE FROM A STUFFED ANIMAL, THEN PUTTING THE STUFFED ANIMAL IN THE BRIEFCASE : He knows what I’m doing! He’s going to get us before we can get him! We’ve got to leave!

DIPPER, STOPPING CANDY. Nothing’s going to get you! Don’t worry Candy, you can count on us. We’re the mystery twins, remember?.

MABEL, CLIMBING THE COUCH AND YELLING AT CEILING: Yeah! You hear that attic guy? The only one getting got is going to be you! When we get you! Before you can get us! 

DIPPER, PACING, THINKING: In order to figure out what we’re dealing with here, we’re going to need to get up into that attic and investigate. 

(Mabel hops down from the couch in a silly fashion)

DIPPER, TURNING TO CANDY: Since you’re the only one out of the three of us who lives here, we’ll need you to come with us to show us around. Can you do that?

[CANDY LOOKS DOWN AT HER BRIEFCASE, THEN UP AT MABEL AND DIPPER LOOKING BRAVE]

CANDY: …

CANDY: Can I be a mystery twin too? 

DIPPER: I mean that’s kinda our-

[MABEL SHOOTS HIM A LOOK]

DIPPER: Yes. You can be the third mystery twin.

MABEL: Alright! Mystery twins on 3!

MABEL: One two three! 

ALL: MYSTERY TWINS!

DIPPER: Three of us.

CUT TO STAN ON THE PHONE WITH SOOS.

https://gin-juice-tonic.tumblr.com/post/677211635075694592

SOOS SHOWS UP AT THE SHACK

STAN LEADS HIM TO A BIG CLOSET

STAN: First things first, before we do any actual cleaning you’re gonna help me throw out stuff from this closet.

[otakubimbo]

Reset

Logan Howlett (Worse Logan) x AFAB Mutant Reader !

Slight Angst. SLOW Burn. Minors DNI!

It’s finally time to leave your apartment. Of course you get an unexpected visitor, but it’s not exactly unwelcome. Well kind of.

previous | next

You have been so busy lately, dealing with a breakup and getting Caleb's things out of your house, and the gallery showing everything in your apartment was a mess. This was no way for you to live, and you finally had the time to take care of it. The blinds and windows in your apartment were wide open, allowing fresh air and sunlight to get in, keeping the fumes from suffocating you and getting the dust out. Your noise-cancelling headphones were on and blasting. Nothing was going to distract you from getting your apartment together, or so that was what you thought.

Meanwhile, in the Wade, Blind Al, and Logan abode. Blind Al shuffles into the apartment, an annoyed huff leaving her lips.

“She’s at it again,” Al complains, plopping on the couch next to Logan as he’s nursing a beer. He slightly raises an eyebrow at her but doesn’t ask any questions. “The girl loves to sing while she cleans, but she can’t hold a damn note to save her life. Only does it when she’s cleaning. Love the girl, but ain’t shit worse than hearing someone screech at the top of their lungs.”

Logan thought he could faintly hear some singing from the apartment, but he chose to ignore it like he did every other noise he heard.

“Wade usually goes and reminds her that she’s being too loud before the people across the hall come banging on her door and another feud starts.”

“Well too bad Wade’s not here” Logan responded taking a sip of his beer. Even though Al was blind it still felt like her gaze was boring into the side of his face, she wasn’t even facing him.

“The last time they were in feud, we didn’t have power for a week. She is petty but not an electrician.” Al comments again giving Logan a shove. Yeah, Logan could figure that you probably were really petty. He mulls it over for a second until realizing that if something like that occurred again it would end up inconveniencing him in more of an annoying way more than anything else and he really didn’t want that.

He grumbles before standing, “Fine” finishing chugging his beer before exiting the apartment, making his way down the hall to yours. The closer he got, the clearer he could hear what you were singing. Blind Al was right, though; you were completely tone deaf and extremely loud. He smirks to himself as he starts knocking on your door. After a few moments with no answer, he sighs. He should have known you wouldn’t be able to hear him. Looks like he would have to break in.

Inside your apartment, you had already stacked your laundry to take downstairs while you finished mopping your floor. Although, currently you were using the mop as a microphone while Little Too Late by Jojo blasts through your headphones as you sing the chorus at the top of your lungs, eyes closed having your own little performance.

You were at the part about to sing the high-note, you cut yourself off mid-note as you see out of the corner of your eye your front door opening. On instinct, you grab the knife you keep on yourself at all times, dropping the mop turning to stab the intruder. Your knife sinks into the neck of who you thought was an intruder to look and see that it was Logan.

“Oh my god Logan what the fuck” You yank the knife from his neck as blood splatters everything, your focus then shifts to the blood everywhere “My floors! I just cleaned these. Fucking hell Logan” Your headphones half way fall of your head as you drop your knife.

“Didn’t think you would stab me.” He chuckles grabbing his neck as it starts healing itself.

“Why the fuck would I not stab you? You just broke into my apartment!” You scold him as you grab the first thing on the top of your laundry to attempt to wipe the blood off of him.

“You were banshee screeching in here, and Al said you have an outgoing war with the neighbors down the hall.” He scoffs, watching you frantically clean the blood off him as he catches a whiff of what you were cleaning him off with. In your rush, you didn’t realize that you had grabbed a pair of your panties. You were cleaning him off with a pair of your dirty panties. And the smell of your panties, unfortunately for him, was intoxicating. His hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist while snatching the garment out of your hand before you can notice, throwing it back into the basket.

“It’s not the first or last time I’ll be covered in my own blood; it’s fine,” He says as he bends down to grab the mop you dropped.

“Still,” You sigh before grabbing the mop from his hands, placing it into the water-filled bucket, “My bad.” Before you can start mopping, he grabs the mop back from you and starts cleaning up his own blood. You huff as you watch him clean up the mess. A new song started playing on your headphones that you weren’t even paying attention to while you watched him clean until the chorus of another song catches the both of your attention.

‘ For you to finally say that I can be your girl. And you can be my man. And we can finally fuck without a condom. Lets f---” before the song could finish the chorus you hit the side of your headphones, stopping the song.

“interesting music you listen to” Logan smirks at you as he finishes cleaning up the rest of his blood. You snatch the mop back from him.

“You can tell Al I’ll keep it down for the peace, thank you.” You say with a roll of your eyes. Logans eyes scan across your cleaned apartment noticing the painting that Joelle gifted you leaning on your wall as if you were going to put it up. A small scowl forms on his face as your eyes follow his gaze.

“Oh yeah I was planning on taking some of my own down and putting that up.” You say casually with a shrug. As you look back at him from the painting, there was a weird tension in the room.

“Can you help me put it up?” The question leaves your lips, in a softer tone than you expected it to.

Logan wrinkles his nose before he huffs in agreement. You straighten up the rest of your apartment as he uses your tools to replace your paintings with the gift from Joelle. Occasionally, you would steal glances at him watching as his bank muscles flexed as he hammered wholes into your wall, measuring and making sure it would align correctly on your wall . There really was nothing sexier than watching a man do physical labor.

When he’s finished it’s hung up perfectly, you happily sigh at how well it looks in your apartment. It truly was something that you loved looking at, you didn’t know how you were going to thank Joelle for gifting it to you. At the thought, you pull your phone out taking a picture of it, sending it to Joelle with another message of thanks. The two of you have been texting here and there, he’s been busy, you’ve been busy, and he practically was a stranger.

You happily clap your hands together, smiling at Logan. “Thank you” the grin spreading on your face and the bright gleam in your eyes makes Logan feel some type of way that he can’t put his finger on. Suddenly you remember something, telling Logan to hold on as you rush to your room. Logan takes the moment to actually look around your apartment. It was different from the last time he was here. The small space felt more alive, vibrant, more…. You. He guesses you must have made changes since you weren’t dating that loser ex anymore. It was nice. As he was taking in your space you appear back from your room holding an article of clothing. It was a jacket, his jacket, the jacket that he put around you the night of your showing.

“Your jacket” you say, extending it out for him to take back. He just shakes his head.

“Got enough jackets, just keep it” he says casually, remembering how it looked on you that night, how beautiful you were even underneath the dingy streetlights. A frown forms on his lips, causing you to tilt your head in confusion at him. It was dangerously cute.

“I should go,” he abruptly commands before you can even say anything.

“Oh uhm yeah sure” confusion in your voice evident as he makes his way to your door, “I’ll make sure to keep it down” Logan just responds with what seems to be an approving grunt. Before Logan opens the door to leave your phone rings and you answer it instinctively without looking to see who was calling.Logans hand freezes on the doorknob when he hears a male voice on the other end of the call that he’s sounds too familiar.

“Oh hey Joelle,” a cheeriness in your voice that Logan wasn’t happy to hear accompanied with that man’s name. Your eyes look to Logan, who froze in place, you were going to tell Joelle to hold for a second but as you went to speak Logan just opened the door and left. The action left you even more confused and speechless. You don’t even realize Joelle is speaking to you until he calls your name repeatedly.

“Sorry” you quickly apologize, “I was just doing a reset on my place and just got a bit distracted”

He chuckles smoothly, his voice deep and rich “it’s no problem, sweetheart. I was just asking that if you really wanted to thank me you would let me take you out on a date”

You pull your phone back from your ear blinking at it a few times, before putting it back up to speak “you want to take me out on a date?”

“Yes,” he chuckled again at the surprise in your voice, “ I would love nothing more than to take a beautiful and talented woman on a date.”

He stared it so matter of factly it had you stuttering like an idiot, “uhm yeah sure, I would really like that. I would really like to go out on a date with you.”

“Wonderful. We can talk more about it later. I’ll let you get back to your cleaning”

“Yeah, okay okay. Bye”

“Bye darlin” he says before hanging up in that unmistakeable southern drawl of his. You almost melt at the spot, a dumb goofy smile plastered on your face as you give a little squeal moving to go ahead and grab your laundry because now you were definitely going to need to go through your closet. As you hike the basket up on your hip, your eye catches a glimpse of the fabric that you used to wipe off the blood from Logan. Now that you’re getting a good look at it, the smile you had on your face immediately dropped to a look of abject horror and embarrassment. It was your underwear, your fucking underwear, you wiped blood off your sexy neighbor with your underwear! You slam your head against your door, what the fuck

Back at Wade, Blind Al, and Logan’s apartment. Logan annoyingly enters back into the apartment.

“Well hello there honey badger,” Wades voice hits Logan’s ears and it’s one of the last things he wants to hear “oh were you on interview with a vampire? What’s up with the bloody neck?”

Logan just ignored Wades questioning, grabbing a beer from the fridge and plopping down on the couch. Al leans over, sniffing Logan.

“You smell like blood and pussy, I told you to tell her to keep it down not do whatever the hell yall did.” Al says disgusted.

An annoying grin starts spreading on Wades because he knew exactly who the ‘her’ in question was. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Ain’t nothing happen. She stabbed me.”

Wade barks out a laugh, “ I knew she was a lil freak. I just didn’t expect you to go along with it.”

Logan huffs before slamming his beer on the table. The only way to escape this nonsense was just to leave. He grabs his coat and heads to the door ignoring all the bullshit Wade was saying. Once out the door, Logan does consider going back to your apartment but then a flash of your face when you picked up your phone for Joelle just irritates him more. Fucking Joelle.

[niossaee]

Ghost Face x reader

Idea by: @iku-tihku

Thank you allowing me to write the said idea!

TW: blood, injuries, stalking, mention of death.

WC: 1324

You forgot when it started. But you vividly remember the day your phone rang with an unknown called ID. Against your better judgment, you decided to answer it. Thinking it was probably the electrician calling you back for your TV not working. "Who could this be?" mumbling to yourself while picking up your phone. Remembering that you had saved the electrician's contact details you narrowed your eyes a little. You declined the call and returned the phone in its place. Not even allowing yourself to take a step back, the phone rang again. You declined again, this went on for another three times before you got fed up and answered it. "What do you want? Can't you take a hint I won't take the call? Well, now you have my attention, so spill it! You have a minute!" You ranted to the small device, not allowing the other person to even start speaking. You swore you heard them try to speak first but they simply waited for you to finish your little rant. Then it came. A chuckle and a deep voice spoke. Almost as if the person was purposefully speaking in a deeper tone to sound intimidating. "I'm watching you." was all the caller said before abruptly hanging up. You stood there confused. "Did he seriously call nonstop just to tell me that? What are these pranks today," you said and set the phone down again before returning to the kitchen. You had to prepare dinner after all. Taking a plate and carrying it to the sink. Placing it inside the sink you started to do the dishes. However, as you looked up in front of the kitchen window, you swore you saw something moving in the bushes at the edge of your backyard. Shaking your head and drying your hands, you quickly closed the curtain and walked towards your room. It was late at night and you were scared out of your mind. Locking your bedroom door, your hands reached to take off the shirt. Before you could do it, your attention snapped to the bedroom window. Where a flash of light happened. Heart racing fast, you quickly pulled the curtains in front of the window. "What the hell.." You mumbled as you crossed your arms over your chest. Thankfully you were decently dressed. God knows what would have happened if you didn't notice the movement. Eyes scanning the room, you found the metal bat your brother gifted you last year. He said it was for protection and you were finally coming around to needing to use it. However, in unfortunate events, it will be useful. Deciding to sleep in your clothes instead of changing, you climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over you. Metal bat to the right of you, you quickly set up alarms on your phone so you could wake up early.

And that's how the paranoia started. Some days passed without a single call or a feeling of being watched. Other days were lived with constant paranoia where you had the feeling of being watched. Multiple times you went without sleep, sometimes even afraid to leave your room for days on end. The constant terror of this Ghostface, you learned his name within a month, chose you was beyond your comprehension. One thing was certain, he was intent on making your life a living hell.

Today, you went out with a friend you haven't seen in a long time. She questioned you about the constant glances you cast over your shoulder as you two talked. Brushing her off with few excuses which were easy to think of. "Oh, I thought something touched my back." or, "Something ran in the corner of my eye.." and other cheap excuses you could come up with. In the end, the friend ended your hang-out short due to being called by her work. Emergency at work and she needs to cover a shift for someone who had collapsed on the job.

And just like that, you were alone in the street. It was still daytime, so it wasn't that scary. The feeling of being watched returned, and you hurried home.

--??? POV

He couldn't understand why this cheap knockoff picked you to terrorize. The ways he did so were pathetic in comparison to what he could do. He couldn't just allow this knockoff to terrorize you, promising himself he would get rid of him for you. Instead, maybe he will give you a call or two himself. He observed your form disappearing down the street from the spot where he hid himself.

--- Normal POV

Once you got home, you made sure to lock all the windows and doors. Close all the curtains you can find and triple-check everything. Every light was turned on and you couldn't wait to be back to work. These free days you got were insufferable.

"Fuck me.." You said when you sat down, OK, your bed. Checking news on your phone and not seeing anything worthwhile you turned to playing games on your phone.

A few hours later, you get a warning that your phone will turn off in 30 seconds unless you plug it in. Eyes widening, you quickly scrambled to put it to charge. Once that was taken care of, you pulled one curtain back a little only to realize it was night already. "Just how long was I on my phone?" You mumbled to yourself. You went to the kitchen and grabbed a pre-made dinner, an onigiri filled with tuna. You tried to make it for the first time that morning and now you finally had the chance to eat it. Scarfing down the onigiri, you returned to your room and locked the door again. You quickly changed into your pajamas and lay down on the bed. Sleep found you minutes later.

Morning came and you woke up with your multiple alarms blaring to the loudest. Sleepily you turned everything off and got up. Getting ready for the day never felt good like before. You had to worry about your stalker and any wrong move and he might just leak any photos he acquired. If he even took any incriminating ones.

The doorbell ringing got to your attention. You went to the door, opening it only to see no one there. Looking around you found a letter on the floor. Picking it up and carrying it inside. You opened it up and read the contents. Eyes widening on what you have read.

Putting down the note, you quickly went to the living room again and turned on the Television. Putting the news channel you sat on the couch and waited patiently. Some ,. Whoevernews later, and then, finally, it happened. The reporter started talking about a body being found in the woods. Mutilated beyond recognition. Yet the reporter's face quickly turned into a small smirk. "it seems this body belongs to the infamous Ghost Face. Rest easy.citizens whoever iinitely wantduties jutixsw for his rain of terror. How did he find him is beyond our knowledge. And the perpetrator left no traces so we are unable to determine who was behind this. Nevertheless, you all can rest easy that the stalking has been stopped. But if you know of anyone who could have done this, feel free to stop by the police station and..... " You shut down the television and sighed in relief. You were finally free and yet you weren't. Taking back the note you read it again.

" He won't trouble you anymore dollRealThe real Deal"

So the real Ghost Face is your savior? Would he stalk you now? By the, message you hoped not. You couldn't survive another round of the past A fewths. Few days hav,e passed and you still have to get used to being normal again. The glances behind the back have reduced greatly and you could sleep in peace. Now hearing some insects singing during the night.

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER SIXTY → CLOUDBUSTING

summary: steve harrington x oc || read on Ao3

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 3.1k || masterlist || ocs moodboard

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

a/n. season 4 here we go! the first couple of chapters (technically) act more like a prelude to the official season but that's simply bc the duffers are cowards and never brought kali back so I had to do it myself lol

TAGGED LIST. @sattlersquarry, @leptitlu

FRIDAY, MARCH 21. INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA. 11:47 PM

Red and blue lights painted Sunshine Torres in an unsavory glow as they woke up a sleeping street of a sleeping neighborhood. 

Her feet smacked against the damp pavement, carrying her away from the cop cars that surrounded the house. Through a shadowy alley, she fled, quickly becoming a ghost on the scene before anyone could catch them. 

They left a man alone, lying on the ground in front of a shattered window in his once peaceful hideout, and if Sunshine was being honest with herself, she did not feel as bad about it as she should have. 

To the police, the man was nothing more than a poor electrician with little to nothing tied to his name, a fake name, but it would take them too long to figure that out. All the man wanted was to start fresh, but he didn’t run far enough. 

“Jesus Christ!” Huffed a figure stumbling a few steps behind Sunshine, trying to keep up. “We are so screwed!” 

Taking a sharp turn into another alley, Sunshine kept her focus ahead, ignoring the grumblings from the teenage boy lagging behind. 

A wall sat on the opposite end of the alley, leaving only one way in and one way out. 

A set of instructions replayed in her mind over and over. Look for the blue house with plywood nailed across the door, hide in the alley across the street, and don’t get caught. They were in the right place, much to her relief. 

Sunshine allowed herself to relax against one of the brick buildings. 

“They’re gonna find us.” 

“No,” she replied, closing her eyes with the hope of seeing something besides the dead body of a man who they only wanted to question as a part of their, not so much Sunshine’s, search for answers. “They won’t. This is where she told us to meet.” 

The slumped figure of the man was the only thing waiting for her on the inside of her eyelids, so she quickly forced them open and tried to push past the exhaustion that had a tight hold of her. 

“You trust her?” the teenage boy questioned. “For all we know, she booked it the hell out of here and is on her way to psycho-murder my father before I get the chance to talk to him.” 

Irritation pricked the corners of Sunshine’s mind, but she pressed her lips together in a thin line and hoped that he’d stop talking. 

He didn’t. 

“She could have pinned this whole thing on us and skipped town, leaving us with no way home tonight while the streets are swarmed with cops looking for whoever killed that dude! I’m too young to go to prison, Danielle. And-” 

“Shut up!” Sunshine whisper-yelled through gritted teeth. 

Her heart raced, and it was only made worse by the splitting headache the boy pacing in front of her caused. 

She lifted her hands in an attempt to wipe sweat from her brow but stopped when she caught sight of them. Dried blood crusted underneath her fingernails, and it stained her hands an ugly burgundy. Spots of blood clung to her jeans, where she tried to wipe them off, leaving her covered in evidence that pointed to her guilt.

If they were caught, there was little chance anyone would believe their story. They looked beyond guilty. They were a couple of teenagers on the run with a cause that no policeman would ever believe. 

The night had turned into a much bigger disaster than Sunshine had intended or wanted. It was painfully overwhelming, and being away from the people she cared the most for only made her feel worse. The only thing that had brought her comfort the last couple of days was the sun-shaped pendant that had adorned her neck since her first Christmas after escaping the Lab. Every time she clutched the metal between her fingers, she was reminded of all the good things and good people waiting for her return home.

However, when Sunshine reached for her necklace, all she was met with were her bare collarbones. 

“No, no, no,” she gasped, frantically reaching around her neck for any sign of the necklace that may have gotten twisted or tangled around. 

The blond stopped his pacing. “What? What’s wrong?” 

���My necklace,” Sunshine breathed out, her eyes lining with unshed tears. “It’s gone.” 

It felt like more than that, though. It was more than a missing piece of jewelry. The necklace had become a part of her, a piece of her heart that she carried outside her body. She hadn’t left her house without it on since she was gifted it; the lack of it, even for a moment, made her feel unbalanced. 

Calum Miller held no sympathy for her loss; he didn't get it. 

“Are you serious right now?” he scoffed, mouth agape in disbelief. “A man is dead, and we’re being chased or hunted or…fuck if I know, and you’re worried about some stupid necklace?” 

Her irritation bloomed and sparked brighter. She suddenly pushed herself off the wall, heart in her throat, and shoved Calum as hard as she could, catching him off guard. He stumbled backward but didn’t let his footing slip on the wet gravel under them.  

Sunshine burned and there was an unrelenting tightness in her chest that made breathing harder and harder. She focused all of her frustration on Calum because he was the closest thing to her. 

“This is your fault!” Her voice rose, threatening to give away their hiding spot but Sunshine could not find it in herself to care at the moment. If they were caught, she could escape, but she couldn’t say the same for Calum. “Why couldn’t you just stop? Why won’t you just stop ?” 

If it weren’t for the darkness of the alleyway, Calum would have seen how red her face felt, hot a seething with so much emotion that her hands trembled. Her anger was ready to boil over, but she didn’t understand why exactly.

She had always been good at keeping a level head and not letting her emotions, especially her anger, get the best of her. Sunshine knew what that did to a person, yet, every tie that held her down was either missing from around her neck or miles away back in Hawkins, completely unaware of what she had been up to for the last couple of days. 

She was untethered, free-floating in feelings she had tried to water down for years with no one to stomp out the fire. All she had was a teenage boy who fanned the flames. 

With each step she took toward him, Calum stumbled until his back hit the opposite wall. 

There was an unwavering fight in him, and Sunshine wanted to admire his drive and hard-headedness, but she couldn’t anymore. 

Sunshine always tried to look for the light, but all of her thought had become shadows, all-consuming and rolling in like a thunderstorm. 

Calum swallowed and lifted his chin to her in an attempt to seem bigger or more intimidating than the girl with unnatural abilities; it was almost laughable. “You can blame me all you want,” he said. There was a cut across his forehead from a shard of glass that had blown across the dead man’s living room along with the first bullet. It was still bleeding, rolling down the side of his face. 

“But you’re still here too. You agreed to this. You agreed to help your…what? Your sister? You made her a promise you never intended to keep. That doesn’t make me the bad guy here.” 

His words pricked her skin, digging into her. She didn’t know exactly what overcame her, but before she fully realized what she was doing, she had one hand illuminated with a dangerous glow and held it close to his cheek, but not close enough to touch his skin. 

Calum winced at the heat and tried to pull back, but he was pressed as far into the wall as he could go, and Sunshine loomed in front of him with eyes that glittered menacingly golden. 

“You told her your father’s alive,” she said, her voice low and cold. “You gave him up and sentenced him to whatever kind of revenge she has planned. All I wanted was to change her mind. I wanted her to come home with me and forget about all of this. I wanted her to get a fresh start and a home.” Despite the ice in her tone or the glow in her palm, tears gathered in her eyes once more. 

She felt too much at once; it was strangling her. 

Sunshine wanted to be done. She wanted to put a lifetime distance between herself and the Lab. She wanted the same for all of the children still left alive, but it was never-ending. 

Sunshine was tired of all of it. 

“You can’t accept the fact that your father is a bad man, and always was.” Sunshine’s hand inched closer, almost grazing his cheek. They were nose to nose. “I think you’re too scared to admit that maybe you’re meant to be just as terrible as he is.” 

Calum stilled at her words, and his fight slipped out of his reach. The skin on his cheek started to flush pink and he turned his head in a lame attempt to avoid it. 

She wanted to stop, to pull away and take a breath but something was keeping her there, a little voice in the back of her head taunting her and keeping her rooted in place. 

“Danielle…” Calum breathed out, his eyes screwed shut and cheek burning as if someone held a lighter to it. Fear laced his tensed muscles and added a tremble to his voice. 

In Hawkins, back home, her friends referred to her abilities as superpowers like the heroes in their comic books. They admired them, even if Sunshine sometimes detested them. But in that moment, Calum Miller saw her far removed from deserving the superhero title. 

Maybe both of them were meant to become the one thing they feared the most: the people they had once admired. 

→←

TWO DAYS PRIOR

The scream was explosive. 

Seven’s ears rang from the noise, and she dropped the chess piece in her hand, letting it clatter onto the board and roll off the table. The sound of it crashing against the rainbow-painted tile was silenced under the shrill scream and it drew no one's eye. 

Instead, every child left in the Rainbow Room looked to the corner where a girl a year or two older than Seven had a boy pinned to the floor. Her arm pressed against his neck and her body straddling his struggling one. 

It all happened so fast, as the girl’s battle-like scream altered the soldiers right outside. But in the short time she had, the girl managed to cause as much damage as she could.

Seven heard it before she saw it. A crack followed by a scream. The boy’s arm, which had tried to shove her away, bent backward in an unnatural way and caused him to cry out in pain. Blood leaked from the girl’s nose and her whole body trembled, but she didn’t stop. 

Even as the soldiers stormed in and readied to jab their taser into the subject’s back, the girl continued. She stared at the boy under her with cold, almost lifeless eyes, until his other arm was shattered in a similar vein. 

That was all the damage she was able to do before electricity replaced her sudden rage, crackling under the fluorescent lights. She convulsed onto the ground, freeing the double broken armed-boy who continued to sob. 

Both of them were hauled up and out of the Rainbow room as the other kids sat in stunned silence, watching as the doors shut and block them out from whatever was going to happen next.  

From across the table, a scoff pulled Seven’s attention away from the closed doors and noises that became too distant to hear. 

Eight stared at the chess board, but she wasn’t contemplating her next move. 

“What happened?” Seven whispered, referring to the outburst. 

Eight’s eyes flickered upwards and narrowed slightly when they met Seven’s. Eight’s eyes were dark but in a different way than Ivy's. While looking into Ivy’s eyes resembled staring into a black sea, filtered with little ripples of moonlight but ultimately all-consuming and easy to drown in if one looked too long, Eight’s eye reminded Seven of the night sky that she only saw in her dreams. Deep brown irises that almost looked black, fitted with lighter brown flecks that one could compare to stars when it really was just the reflection of the bright overhead lights. 

Both girls had intimating gazes, but Eight’s didn’t hold the same gentleness that Ivy’s did when she looked at Seven. Eight always looked like she knew more than everyone else, or that she saw something in the air that no one else could. 

“She broke,” Eight replied simply. 

“Broke?” Seven repeated, confused. “She…She broke his arms." 

Eight shook her head. “No.” With one finger, Eight tapped the center of her forehead. “In here, inside her head. Something…” She grabbed a crayon from the shelf behind her and held it up for a moment. Red was the color, the same color at the top of the rainbow painted across the floor, and the same color of blood that stained the tiles where the one-sided fight had just occurred.  

Eight grabbed both sides of the crayon and pushed her thumbs up against the middle of it, pressing hard enough that it broke into two pieces. 

At the snap of the crayon that echoed the snap of the boy’s arms, Seven flinched and watched as Eight let the two pieces fall onto the chess board. 

“...Snapped,” said Eight. “Do you know what I think?” Seven shook her head. 

Eight wasn’t that much older than her, a year or two at most, but she had arrived just after Seven by a couple of months. It didn’t make sense that she knew more than Seven did. Yet, Eight liked to play alone aside from the occasional game of chess and didn’t have the fierce protectiveness of Ivy looming over her every move. She saw and heard more Seven. 

“It’ll happen to all of us,” she began. “Our heads, what’s inside there, it can’t handle this forever. If we stay, we’ll snap too.” 

“We’ll hurt each other?” Seven whispered, too scared to ask the question any louder. Anyone could be listening, and she was sure conversion like that was not allowed inside the Rainbow Room. It was a matter of minutes before more soldiers would enter to shoo them all back into their bedrooms so they could clean up and control the situation that had just unfolded. 

Eight pressed her lips into a thin line for a moment, staring at Seven with a gaze that was unreadable to the younger girl. 

The other half of the broken crayon rolled in front of Seven, but she didn’t touch it. 

“I think we can hurt everyone,” Eight said with no hint of worry or remorse behind her words. It was a statement a fact, she seemed to believe in. 

Seven began to believe her too. 

Waking up in a cold sweat, Sunshine sat up in the darkness of her bedroom and clutched her chest. She felt her heart race under her fingertips and through the light fabric of her shirt. 

Bringing her hands up to her face, she tried to rub away the old visions of the Hawkins National Laboratory from her eyes. They had a habit of staining her vision and her dreams, especially as of late. 

Instead of the scattered memories intertwined with more recent events of Demogorgons and the Mind Flayer, nearly every time Sunshine closed her eyes she was met with nightmares of the Lab. She could hardly remember the last time she slept a night without at least a flicker of the horror she had experienced as a young girl. 

The more recent nightmares she had involved an old face she hadn’t thought about in quite some time. 

When the twins and El returned to Hawkins the night El closed the Gate, for the first time, they all told Sunshine about their time spent with Eight, who went by her actual name, Kali. 

Just as Sunshine recalled from the Lab, Kali was the same stoic and intense girl. She had a gang of criminals and used her abilities to not only survive but also to hunt down every person responsible for the things that happened inside the Lab. 

At first, Sunshine was taken aback by that. It wasn’t that she didn’t people those people deserved it, because they did, but the more time she spent away from the Lab, the more she wanted to distance herself from it instead of holding herself to revenge. 

However, the more dreams she had about Kali and what happened to them there, Sunshine understood it more than cared to admit. They were hurt by all of it, and it seemed like Kali was still hurting, from what the twins had told her. 

Kali hadn’t found her family, only some friends she picked up in various cities who banded together. 

Before the twins left for California along with El and the Byers bunch, they left her a number she could call to reach Kali. They said it was for emergencies, but something told her they wanted her to have it and to call her because they were too scared to face her again. They think they abandoned her, even though she could have come back to Hawkins with them. The door was always open, but Sunshine didn’t know if Kali knew that. 

With each dream, Sunshine grew more and more curious about her long-lost sister. Maybe she should have been more focused on the meaning behind the dreams and the cryptic messages and the plethora of questions they left her with, but it was all overshadowed by her desire to have a sibling close to her again and not clear across the country. 

She loved everyone in Hawkins, from her boyfriend to her gaggle of children who were entering their teenage years. But there were very few people who truly understood Sunshine. Almost all of them were on the other side of the country. It would’ve been nice to have Kali in her life, even if she still was a little cold and calculating. 

The little slip of paper with a phone number on it sat untouched in her bedside drawer, buried underneath movie ticket stubs and letters her siblings had written her about their new adventures in a new state. 

Sunshine dug around until she found it and laid it on her lap, staring at the numbers for a long moment of contemplation. 

There was a chance Kali didn’t want to speak to her or see her, but there was only one way for her to figure that out. 

She picked up the landline that lived on her bedside table and dialed the number before she could talk herself out of it. After a couple of rings, someone answered.

[collapsedsquid]

A 6-foot wall blocks the view from a nearby road fronting the project, where cars slow to try to catch a glimpse of what’s behind it. Security guards stand watch at an entrance gate and patrol the surrounding beaches on ATVs. Pickup trucks roll in and out, hauling building materials and transporting hundreds of workers. Nobody working on this project is allowed to talk about what they’re building. Almost anyone who passes compound security—from carpenters to electricians to painters to security guards—is bound by a strict nondisclosure agreement, according to several workers involved in the project. And, they say, these agreements aren’t a formality. Multiple workers claim they saw or heard about colleagues removed from the project for posting about it on social media. Different construction crews within the site are assigned to separate projects and workers are forbidden from speaking with other crews about their work, sources say.

Construction workers all have to wear colored jumpsuits and keep an eye out for tuxuedoed british dipshits

[landoom]

Can I ask you your point of view of this quote you said?

"Oscar didn't touch Lando. Oscar made a bold move, not a wrong one. I stand by this."

Maybe this is too philosophical, but when does a bold move turn into a wrong move? Only when the consequences turn bad?

It feels like if an electrician did their work without PPE and didn't get hurt. Did it work? Yeah, but it's not the right thing to do for their security and everyone else's.

I understand that in Formula 1 sometimes you need to do risky things but risking a double DNF doesn't look like a worthy risk to take.

Interesting question!!

I don't think we can judge an event based on its consequences only. It is like the difference between killing and murdering. The outcome is the same but the premeditation will make those two actions be treated differently.

Of course, I'm not naive: would Oscar had touched Lando and given him damage or worse a DNF, people would have judged him even harder.

That being said, back to what really happened.

Oscar made a bold move in the sense that he could have tried to pass Lando later (in that late or in the race) but went for it at the first opportunity.

Then why do I think it wasn't wrong: because there was space to make that move. I've rewatched it and I've seen many overtakes (successful and unsuccessful) being made with less space than that!

Yes, it was a gamble on Lando breaking early but lots of close battles in F1 are fought with one driver having to let go to avoid a crash (sometimes nobody does and it's like the Max/Lando in Austria).

Oscar's move was risky but way less than many moves. And it was praised as such by many fans, journalists, insiders...

Then, of course, outside of the simple act of passing another driver, there was a risk for the team in relation to the WDC. But, there, for me, you can't hold Oscar accountable for fighting when allowed to.

Like I said in another post, a more experienced driver might have done things differently but Oscar's choice not being the best one doesn't make it the wrong one either.

A wrong move for me is to either deliberately going for a move that you know will end up in a crash (like brake testing or Schumacher on Villeneuve 1997) or going for a space that doesn't exist because you're overconfident or distracted or whatever.

To summarise :

The move was bold and risky but not more than many others in F1 and it didn't fit my vision of a wrong move

The circumstances of it made it being judged in another way than a simple move between two drivers just fighting for points

Hope this answers your question

[idkdema]

One of the concept scenes: (one of the aus)

The air tunnels broke now the ways are either blocked or forced to another dead end

Eva(me): Welp frick

[Competitor 1]: Uugggghhhhh I'm not losing now!

Observer: Looks like one of our competitors got in the dead end! Will they make it back? In the meantime I'm gonna call the electricians welp!

#####: Someone sabatoged the circuits I go get Eva while u fix the lines!

Valda: I CANT JUST GO THE CIRCUITS

#####: Either way you will lose both your career and your competitor! *He rushed of grabbing a spare hoverboard*

Valda: Wai- uggghhh Really??!!! * He rushed to the circuit systems**

Valda runs to the system only to find out that the called electricians were block off

Electrician #1: Let us in! We were called to fix this mess!

Guard#1: I'm sorry but ur not allowe-

*Valda sneaks inside as now he reached the system he quickly tries to fix it*

[Competition 1] : This is TOTALLY UR FAULT

Eva(me): WHAT ME UR THE ONE WHO PSUHED ME IN THIS TUNNEL

[Competitor 1]: It's called ✨Accident✨

**They looked forward seeing the dead end and the tunnels weren't activated as they were gonna fall of until-**

[Competitor 1 and Eva]: AAAAHHHHHHHHH

Valda: Finally! *He fixed the system activating the circuits back to the main race*

#####: Gotcha! * He caught both of the competitors and landed them to an active tunnel

Observer: What a save! Even though that's against the borderlines the failure of activation of tunnels will excuse this current situation...WILL THESE TWO GET BACK TO THEIR POSITIONS?

(Might turn this into a comic once I have more time)

🍿:0 oh my gah-

Woah kinda reminds me of that running man show lol

(Woah can’t wait :D!)

[esta-elavaris]

I need to tell you guys what happened today bc I laughed til I fckn cried.

My aunt's ex husband considers himself an electrician (and a carpenter, and a plumber). He does all of these things badly, and whatever money might've been saved by letting him do these things is immediately lost tenfold paying people to fix what he fucked up.

Last week he fucked with an electrical socket here, it ended up burning out, we lost power for half a day, and at mine and my brother's urging, my grandparents called an electrician round to have a look at it so it doesn't cause a house fire.

We're told the guy will turn up at 2. Bang on 2 o'clock, there's a knock at the front door. I'm listening to this interaction from another room as my grandfather answered the door. Guy greets him with "hello, neighbour!" - kinda weird, but whatever, I'm also socially awkward, it is what it is.

My granda goes "come in, son, and I'll explain to you what's happened" -- guy immediately goes "talk to me" and follows him inside, allowing him and my grandmother to show him around the electrical socket that caused the problem, another that was flagged as a risk by the last electrician here who fixed the power outage, and then all of the switches that turn the mains on and off, humming and nodding along as they explain everything.

Guy then goes "I don't really know too much about it, so I might need to get somebody in who knows about electrics". I'm in the other room thinking "lmao wat, how r u an electrician then lad", and there's a brief pause as you can tell my grandparents are wondering how to even take that. During this pause, the guy goes "oh, there's my parcel there!" - talking about a parcel that had been left here for a neighbour a few doors down earlier on.

As he says that, there's a knock at the door. The electrician has arrived.

The original guy was the son of the neighbour (my grandparents know her, but have not met him, which is why they didn't realise who he was), came here to pick up a parcel, and just happily completely rolled with it when they took him inside and started showing him electrical outlets and describing the problems they've been having.

By this point, I am doubled over, I am crying, I cannot breathe - my brother runs into my room to see if I've heard it, also crying, also doubled over, also unable to breath for a solid 10+ minutes. The story produces the same effect in the actual electrician, as they let him in and tell him what just happened. Happily he does know quite a bit about electrics and fixes the problem.

An actual fuckign sitcom moment. I thought I was going to need an ambulance.

[mycology-supplies]

Mushroom Autoclave ( 150L ) - Mushroom Sterilizer

Description

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📈【Professional-grade】- Autoclave to use if scaling up from smaller pressure cooker. For efficient use, meeting the demands of your mushroom growing needs.

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🔢【 Two stackable internal baskets】-Can sterilize different types of substrates because of versatile loading options.

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Features:

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Electric Operation: Our autoclave operates using electricity, providing convenience and reliability without the need for external heat sources or additional equipment.

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Ships via freight! Flat rate shipping fee of $375 only for delivery fee and does not include any extra delivery services. I.E.-Lift Gate fee, Inside delivery fee, Residential delivery fee, etc. Contact us through the contact form to receive a PDF copy of the User Manual if you'd like to review it before purchasing.

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[lasenbyphoenix]

Unshakable Faith (2023)

Episode 35 Breakdown

Dr Bai grabs Seamstress Miao by the throat, demanding to know who Snow Wolf is, but she refuses to unmask her leader. He leaves after threatening to kill them all if anything happens to Nurse Bai again. Electrician Liu Simao sees Officer Ding watch the shop, and creeps in the back door to advise Seamstress Miao that she has been compromised. She immediately sets out to burn several papers and a book before being stabbed by Liu Simao. He tries to take her bag but she holds tight, and he has to flee empty handed when the police arrive, and she dies without any confession. Searching her shop, the police team find her radio equipment, maps of the air raid shelter location and the negatives of the blueprint photos.

On the last day of the experiment, Expert Chief Chu returns to the lab and instructs Ji Danyang to make the coundown and announcement of the experiment's successful end. The cabin team are helped out of the sealed cabin, rejoicing in the sunlight and Ji Danyang finds He Xiwan still inside. She completes logging the last page of data and gives it to him before collapsing from exhaustion.

Master Welder Niu finds the hidden compartment in the cabin with the empty phosphorus bottle inside, concluding it was made by Assistant Rui. Police Captain Chen debriefs Officer Xu who participated in the experiment, focussing on the movements of Nurses Bai and Shanshan, but is at a loss as to how they would know they would get inside. Police Captain Chen has the Hospital Chief review the medical checks of the cabin participants and they discover that the expert who collapsed shouldn't have been given clearance at all. He compiles a list of the medical staff involved in the fitness checks and the Police Chief suggests allowing Nurse Shanshan back to work to see what reaction is provoked.

Officer Hongmei, still recovering from her mercury poisoning, visits Dr Bai and informs him of the seamstresses murder and identity as a spy, and that they'd found her father's body with the help of an anonymous key. Ji Danyang takes a break from analysing the cabin data to visit Officer Hongmei in hospital and they discuss where they might go now this part of the project is coming to an end.

In the expert's office, Lei Peizheng notices one of his titanium samples is missing and reports it to the police team. They check Factory Chief Han's samples and find the missing piece amongst them, but one of his absent. Factory Chief Han questions Secretary Lu about the missing titanium, stating that if a man makes a mistake he should have the courage to correct it, but Secretary Lu still denies his involvement.

Secretary Lu is angry and meets Nurse Bai, demanding  to know once and for all if she is a spy and when she doesn't commit to an answer he tells her he plans to confess and if she if a spy to run. She slaps him. Their altercation is noticed by Nurse Zhang Ling and Nurse Leader Ge and Nurse Bai sees Nurse Ge watching from the window.

...............................................

He Xiwan is all about the mission! Good grief girl you'll go down in history but you'll go down with mercury poisoning too.

"I can't be like Li Guangming". Ok so Secretary Lu does know what happened to Security Captain Li and is FINALLY realising he's in the same spot. Good for him for finally deciding to confess, although will that slap make him change his mind? I really hope he does come forward on his own. He knows the scrutiny is closing in and so does Nurse Bai now. What's she going to do? She can only pin so much on Nurse Shanshan (which I'm still fuming about btw)

Seamstress Miao stabbed in the back (or front) by your cohort. That's what your loyalty to the wrong people will get you.

So who's left now? The still unidentified Snow Wolf, Nurse Bai (who is suspected), fake Li Qiuchen (who is suspected), electrician Liu Simao (who is confirmed and being searched for). At this point Nurse Bai and Fake Li haven't heard about the murder of the seamstress yet but it's not a secret in town so it wont be long. Do they even have another base of operation in town now that the seamstress shop is compromised? How will they pass messages along now?

3 episodes to go! What am I expecting? Whoever the fuck Snow Wolf is, they're going to have to show their face for one final attempt on the project (maybe trying to grab or destroy the data before it can be transported to Beijing?)

As a rule, the commited spies have died (Zhang A Shui, Lai Guangrun, Assitant Rui and Seamstress Miao) and the coerced traitors have been imprisoned (Security Captain Li, the messenger & the digging team). So Liu Simao and Fake Li wont survive, and Secretary Lu will be imprisoned... but what about Nurse Bai? She's a fully committed spy, but she's also one of our leads. I can't imagine her being killed off, it would be too tragic for our other leads. I'd wondered earlier about the possibility of a change of heart upon learning it was the KMT who killed her parents (the reveal of which I still expect) but she's done so much more sabotage since then that there's little to no room left for turning around. Will she just be imprisoned? Or will Dr Bai try and convince her to run away?

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Gross Darkness

“Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the LORD is risen upon thee. For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the LORD shall arise upon thee, and His glory shall be seen upon thee.” Isaiah 60:1-2KJV

Are we rapture ready? Back in the 1980s churches were jumping during services, practicing to go up in the rapture. Well, I am a pan-tribulationist, not ‘pre’ nor ‘mid.’ In other words, I can see the interpretation for each of the theories, but reserve the right for God to allow the rapture and tribulation to ‘pan’ out according to His perfect plan and will.

We have a job to do amidst whatever “gross darkness” comes. This job does not allow us to sit on our ‘blessed assurances’ with bags packed or jump up and down in rapture practice children’s games. Time is upon us to grow up into the ‘Bride’ of Christ, John 14:12ESV “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in Me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father.”

Being a disciple means— ‘an apprentice, adherent, a follower or student of a teacher, leader— (Jesus in this case). In other words, disciples are mimickers, imitators of the teacher. Upgrade the word ‘disciple’ to modern day thinking— Exa: a person becoming an electrician through the electrical union apprenticeship program, can’t fly by what looks good and might work. He must submit to do exactly each instruction as being taught to keep from being electrocuted or burning down a building.

How many disciples, imitators, mimickers of Jesus Christ do we see in our church world today? Occasionally, we might run into a church which expects people to be healed, when they pray for them. Oral Roberts, John G Lake, etc. healing evangelists of the past pioneered our present day healing services, showing even evangelical churches— healing is a vital part of the church today.

Since the Azuza Street’s revival, a hundred plus years ago, \ much of the church —Believers “…began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.” Acts 2:4NIV. Holy Spirit baptism— ‘tongues’ are totally rejected by some ‘evangelical streams’ of churches. Yet this is the fastest growing faction in Christ’s church today.

“The LORD shall arise upon” you and me, and His glory shall be seen upon” us. Those years of preparation in healing, in faith, speaking in tongues, loving one another will become infused with the glory of the Lord. Us weird people that have been ostracized as radicals, Jesus freaks will glow with the Light of God’s glory and purpose. We’ll be sought out as hope to the hopeless.

Preparation for what is coming inside the church has been initiated by Holy Spirit. We’ve been reluctantly getting ready for a mass influx of people who are totally done with “gross darkness.” They’re going to come into the church totally confused about whether they’re male, female, cat or dogs bringing their equally confused families. These people will be lost one day in their confusion and the next day suddenly aware there is God Who loves them completely.

Today, we can’t see a cohesiveness in what was, what is, and what’s coming. But— “…we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28ESV.

Everything is going to work out for our good, thus “…we can say with confidence, “The LORD is my Helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?” Hebrews 13:6NLT. Do you understand where we are in the reference to the end times? Are you a disciple? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Holy God You have worked to orchestrate Your plans and timing for all You are bringing in. Please strengthen us to be Your church in these days of gross darkness, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2024 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[solarcuriositytraveler]

EV Solar Charging Innovations and Trends in Perth

Introduction

As the realm pivots toward sustainable vitality, Perth is at the vanguard of a top notch transformation in electrical vehicle (EV) technology and photo Perth Solar Maintenance voltaic electricity integration. With a becoming dedication to decreasing carbon footprints, the metropolis has witnessed an unique surge in EV sun charging ideas and tendencies. This article delves deep into the intersection of electric autos and sun power in Perth, exploring the whole thing from residential electric capabilities to business electrical repairs. By focusing on modern-day applied sciences, group initiatives, and the position of licensed electricians on this industry shift, we grant a finished review of what citizens can are expecting as they transition to greener vigour options.

EV Solar Charging Innovations and Trends in Perth

The adoption of electric trucks is no longer only a development; that is changing into a standard of living selection for plenty of Australians. In Perth, this shift is vastly amplified through the incorporation of sun potential ideas adapted above all for EV charging.

Understanding Electric Vehicle Integration

Electric vans characterize more than just an green substitute to standard motors; they represent a broader flow in opposition t sustainability. As more other people make the transfer to electric powered using, knowing how those motors integrate with renewable vitality assets turns into predominant.

The Role of Solar Power in EV Charging

Solar electricity performs a pivotal role in supporting the infrastructure mandatory for EVs. By harnessing sun thru sunlight panels, homeowners can generate their very own electrical power for charging their trucks at home—nicely growing a self-ample power ecosystem.

Current Trends in EV Solar Charging Solutions

Smart Charging Systems

The latest sensible charging approaches let users to display screen and manage their charging simply by phone functions. This technological know-how now not in simple terms optimizes charging times headquartered on electrical energy quotes but also syncs with sun panel outputs for maximum performance.

Home Battery Storage

Home battery garage programs just like the Tesla Powerwall are gaining recognition in Perth. These programs shop excess sunlight vitality generated at some point of the day for use at night or at some point of top demand durations, allowing home owners to charge their EVs each time they wish without counting on grid electricity.

Public Charging Stations Powered by using Solar Energy

Many organisations and neighborhood governments are investing in public charging stations that utilize photo voltaic pressure, providing easy get entry to to renewable strength for all EV vendors whilst advertising sustainability inside communities.

Affordability of Solar Systems

An increasing number of least expensive photo voltaic tactics are handy for deploy across residential locations in Perth. This democratization of get admission to allows for greater families to profit from reduced electricity rates even though contributing undoubtedly to the setting.

Integration with Smart Grids

The integration of clever g

[ghostlyschemewilderness]

Tesla Powerwall Installer Guide for Homeowners in Perth

Introduction

In an https://canvas.instructure.com/eportfolios/3708800/home/home-battery-storage-solutions-in-perth-is-it-right-for-you technology the place vigor effectivity and sustainability are pivotal, owners in Perth are increasingly more turning to solar vigor solutions. One standout product is the Tesla Powerwall, a modern homestead battery that permits citizens to harness sunlight potential efficaciously. This article serves because the Tesla Powerwall Installer Guide for Homeowners in Perth, proposing you with simple insights into install, blessings, repairs, and every thing concerning electric approaches in your place. Whether you’re thinking about a brand new sunlight install or looking to combine battery storage into your existing equipment, this consultant has were given you included.

Tesla Powerwall Installer Guide for Homeowners in Perth What Is the Tesla Powerwall?

The Tesla Powerwall is a chargeable lithium-ion battery designed for residential use. It outlets potential generated from sunlight panels or draws electrical energy from the grid all the way through off-top hours while prices are scale back. The stored strength can then be used whilst the solar seriously is not shining or in the time of top utilization hours.

Key Features of Tesla Powerwall: Energy Storage Capacity: Each unit has a capacity of 13.5 kWh. Scalability: Multiple devices will also be set up for better properties or top calories needs. Automatic Backup: Automatically can provide capability for the duration of outages. Smart Energy Management: Monitors potential usage and optimizes when to attract from the grid or your sunlight panels. Why Choose Tesla Powerwall for Your Home?

Opting for a Tesla Powerwall can significantly strengthen your loved ones's electricity administration:

Cost Savings: By storing excess sunlight power, you'll be able to lessen reliance on grid electricity, main to curb expenditures. Environmental Impact: Utilizing renewable assets contributes to lowering carbon footprints. Energy Independence: Gain more suitable handle over your power usage devoid of being utterly reliant on common utilities. How Does the Installation Process Work?

Installing a Tesla Powerwall includes a couple of central steps:

1. Initial Consultation: Discuss your desires with an authorized electrician in Perth. Assess your current electric setup and sunlight panel formula. 2. Site Assessment: Evaluate space availability for setting up, ordinarily inside of your garage or software room. Check latest electrical wiring and be certain that compatibility with the Powerwall. 3. Securing Permits: Obtain essential allows for from neighborhood gurus earlier than installing starts. 4. Installation Day: A licensed electrician will set up the unit in response to Tesla’s instructional materials. five. Configuration: Configure settings depending in your energy needs and alternatives with the aid of the Tesla app. Choos