#floor standing air conditioner wiring

[gogiaprints]

What are the benefits of choosing floor-standing units over wall-mounted units?

Choosing between floor-standing units and wall-mounted units depends on various factors such as space, style, and functionality. Here are some benefits of opting for floor standing units over wall-mounted units:

Ease of Installation: Floor-standing units are generally easier to install since they don't require wall mounting, which can involve drilling and ensuring the wall can support the weight.

Stability:  floor standing units are often more stable and can hold heavier items without the risk of falling, making them suitable for storing larger or heavier items.

Versatility: They can be placed anywhere in a room without being restricted to walls, allowing for more flexibility in room layout and design.

Storage Capacity:  floor standing units typically offer more storage space compared to wall-mounted units, as they often have larger dimensions and can include multiple shelves or drawers.

Accessibility: Items stored in floor-standing units are often easier to reach, as they are at floor level, making them a practical choice for frequently used items.

Design Options: They come in various styles, shapes, and sizes, providing more options to match different interior designs and personal preferences.

No Wall Damage: Since they don't require wall installation, there is no risk of damaging walls, which is particularly advantageous in rented spaces where modifications might not be allowed.

Flexibility in Movement:  floor standing units can be easily moved or rearranged within a space, allowing for dynamic changes in room setup without much effort.

Overall, floor-standing units offer practicality and versatility, making them an excellent choice for those who prioritize ease of use and flexibility in interior design.

[frischkasekuchen]

電波ロマンス(Animatronic!Reve x Reader)

Credits:

FNAF by Scott Cawthon

Fauchereve by @/kyokyo866

Warnings:

Tasing

Violation of personal space

Weird discussion of the circulatory system

Starring:

Y/N as The Nightguard

Fauchereve as Animatronic Mascot of (Unspecified Restaurant)

(Author's note: Apparently, the best way to get godly artwork from Shu and/or Pearl is to drop a Reader-insert fic. This is their song btw.)

As a fresh highschool graduate, you assumed that you had seen the worst the world had to offer. How could you have predicted that your first summer job would become a horror movie?

BANG BANG BANG. Metal slamming against your last line of defense. Soulless blue eyes looking through your office window. In the corner of the cramped cage you called your office, you whispered a silent prayer. Then, you look at your tablet.  

Five percent?! But it’s only 3 a.m!

You hear a robotic chuckle from behind the door. You look up from the tablet to glance at him. His face can’t contort to make a smug expression, but you can sense the satisfaction he gets from your terror.

4 a.m; two percent!

One percent-

NO- NO- C’MON!

You jump from your corner to station yourself by the right door.

DUUUUUUU….

Everything goes dark. Despite the fact He’s standing a foot away from you, He just-

Smiles.

Without thinking, you take a step outside.

He lunges.

You scream, and scramble down the hallway as He crashes to the floor with an awful CRASH! It makes your ears ring. 

As you dash through party room one, you hear scraping noises; He’s getting back up. Even though it would make life easier for you to leave through the entrance, He would have trouble trying to tail you out the back door. He can’t fit through the back door, so He’d have to waste time getting to and breaking through the front to catch you.

CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK.

Oh shit!

You’re forced to run into the arcade.

As quietly as possible, you scurry to a corner of out-of-order cabinets and hide between them. You get tangled  in scratchy wires that coil around your limbs like tentacles as you shuffle in a crouch. It’s an uncomfortable position, but getting out alive is far more important.

Shuffling…clunking…

It sounds… close, too close for comfort.

…Something’s coming towards you.

Someone is standing in front of you.

You look up, praying it’s human.

It’s HIM.

“PEek-A-a-A-boO.” His voice is filled with static, and cannot agree on a pitch.

You hear a clicking noise as He grabs hold of the wires and squeezes them.

A spark-

You feel a sensation like a million knives stabbing you and smell something both metallic and smoky.

You black out.

***

July 1993

“Frieeend! Whatcha reading~?”

You sighed, “A shonen magazine.”

“Oh, okay.”

You knew Reve wanted your attention, but for whatever reason, he’d beat around the bush instead of telling you straight up. Like when he used to leave candy in your office instead of asking to be friends. …Are you guys friends?

Not even four pages later, Reve called out to you in a needy whine. “Can we cuddle~?”

“It’s too hot for that!” you retorted. During your shifts, the air conditioners were cut off to save electricity. The only thing keeping you from the edge of a heatstroke was the tiny fan on your desk. It wasn’t much help though, you had to pop at least two buttons so you could breathe. “Tell my manager to let me have AC then we’ll discuss cuddling.”

Reve responded with a squeaky, robotic huff. Cute.

He stayed quiet for a while, probably stewing, as you flicked across camera to camera. When you viewed the kitchen camera, labeled AUDIO ONLY. You hear…shuffling, clunking…? Wait- is it coming from behind you?

Two frigid mechanical arms wrap around you and your chair. They feel like an ice pack.

“Holy shit, why do you feel like a fridge?” you asked in awe.

“My processor pumps a coolant through my body!” Reve said proudly. “The mechanics have to make sure I don’t overheat. I’d explode or somethin’!”

You laughed off an imaginary scenario of Reve going KA-BOOM like Wile. E Coyote. Your amusement was cut short when one of Reve’s hands left your middle and traveled upwards. The hand stopped on the left side of your chest. You trembled when Reve’s segmented hand pressed down on where your heart should be. Your breath hitched. It’s just…a little off-putting.

“Y’know, a mechanic once told me…” he tapped your chest with a finger. “This keeps up constant maintenance inside of human bodies…what is it?”

‘Constant maintenance’? Oh- they were talking about homeostasis.

“It’s beating.” Reve murmured. “Badum, badum, badum…is it a processor?”

“Oh no no no. It’s an organ.” you said. “It pumps blood around my body without any commands, it just does.”

Reve’s pupils dilated in curiosity. “What’s blood for?”

“Well, um, what I can tell you from bio class is: it gives me feeling in my limbs, kills infections and patches up cuts and scrapes.”

“Functionality, troubleshooting, and repairs…” Reve muttered to himself. His fingers still lingered on your chest. “Humans say this organ beats fast when you’re in love.”

“Yeah, in love songs.” you squeaked.

“Yours is.” Reve’s tone sounded menacing at this point. He grinned, “Do you love me?”

“No-no-I’m just nervous, that's all!” you stammered. “I mean- I like you, but love would be kind of a strong word!”

Reve got a little too close to your face for comfort.

He stared at you.

You stared back.

…

…

Does he want you to shit your pants-?

Reve pulled away, giving you space to breathe. You gasped, and sat up properly in your chair.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfy.” Reve said, twiddling his fingers. “But I do like seeing you squirm a little- if that makes any sense.”

…Is he a sadist?

Did you awaken something in this animatronic, or did the animatronic awaken something in you?

***

(The other animatronics: Do you think they've explored each other's bodies?)

[ezheatandair]

Maximizing Home Comfort: The Ultimate Guide to Ductless Air Conditioner Installation in San Diego

What is a Ductless Air Conditioner?

A ductless air conditioner, also known as a mini-split system, consists of an outdoor compressor unit and one or more indoor air-handling units. These units are connected by refrigerant lines and electrical wiring, allowing them to operate without the need for traditional ductwork. Each indoor unit is installed in a specific room or zone, providing targeted cooling exactly where it’s needed.

Benefits of Ductless Air Conditioner Installation

Energy Efficiency

Zoned Cooling: Ductless systems allow for zoned cooling, meaning you can cool only the rooms you’re using. This targeted approach reduces energy consumption and lowers utility bills.

No Duct Losses: Traditional HVAC systems lose up to 30% of their energy through ductwork. Ductless systems eliminate this loss, making them more efficient.

Inverter Technology: Many ductless systems use inverter technology, which adjusts the compressor speed to match the cooling demand, resulting in significant energy savings.

Ease of Installation

Minimal Disruption: Installing ductwork can be invasive and time-consuming. Ductless systems require only a small hole for the refrigerant lines, making the installation process quick and minimally disruptive.

Flexible Placement: Indoor units can be mounted on walls, ceilings, or even floor-standing, providing flexibility to fit any room design.

Improved Indoor Air Quality

Advanced Filtration: Ductless systems often come with advanced filtration options that reduce dust, allergens, and other pollutants, improving overall indoor air quality.

Reduced Mold and Bacteria: With no ductwork, there is less chance for mold and bacteria to grow and spread throughout the home.

Quiet Operation

Whisper-Quiet Units: Ductless air conditioners are known for their quiet operation. The indoor units are designed to operate at noise levels as low as 19 decibels, ensuring a peaceful environment.

Cost-Effective

Lower Installation Costs: Without the need for extensive ductwork, installation costs are significantly lower.

Long-Term Savings: The energy efficiency of ductless systems translates to lower energy bills over time, offering substantial long-term savings.

The Installation Process

Initial Consultation and Assessment

Home Evaluation: A professional HVAC technician will evaluate your home to determine the best locations for the indoor and outdoor units. Factors such as room size, insulation, and heat load are considered.

System Selection: Based on the assessment, the technician will recommend the appropriate system size and model to meet your cooling needs.

Installation of Outdoor Unit

Placement: The outdoor unit is typically installed on a concrete pad or mounted on the exterior wall of your home. It should be placed in a shaded area to enhance efficiency.

Connection: Refrigerant lines, power cables, and a drain line are connected to the outdoor unit.

Installation of Indoor Units

Mounting: Indoor units are mounted in the selected locations. Wall-mounted units are the most common, but ceiling-mounted or floor-standing units are also options.

Connection: Each indoor unit is connected to the outdoor unit via refrigerant lines and electrical wiring. The connections are run through a small hole in the wall, minimizing structural impact.

System Testing and Calibration

Leak Check: The technician will check for refrigerant leaks and ensure all connections are secure.

System Calibration: The system is tested and calibrated to ensure optimal performance. The technician will also show you how to operate the system and set up the remote control or thermostat.

Why Choose EZ Heat and Air for Ductless Air Conditioner Installation in San Diego?

At EZ Heat and Air, we pride ourselves on delivering top-quality HVAC solutions tailored to your specific needs. Here’s why you should choose us for your ductless air conditioner installation:

Expert Technicians

Certified Professionals: Our team consists of certified HVAC technicians with extensive experience in ductless system installation. They are trained to handle all aspects of the installation process efficiently and professionally.

Customer Satisfaction

Personalized Service: We believe in providing personalized service to ensure your complete satisfaction. Our technicians take the time to understand your needs and offer solutions that best fit your home and lifestyle.

Transparent Pricing: We offer competitive and transparent pricing with no hidden fees. You’ll receive a detailed estimate before we begin any work.

High-Quality Products

Trusted Brands: We install ductless systems from leading brands known for their reliability and performance. You can trust that your new system will deliver years of efficient and trouble-free operation.

Comprehensive Services

Maintenance and Repair: In addition to installation, we offer comprehensive maintenance and repair services to keep your ductless system running smoothly. Regular maintenance ensures optimal performance and extends the life of your system.

Frequently Asked Questions About Ductless Air Conditioners

Q: Are ductless air conditioners suitable for all homes? A: Ductless systems are ideal for a variety of settings, including homes without existing ductwork, room additions, converted spaces like garages or basements, and areas requiring supplemental cooling.

Q: How much does ductless air conditioner installation cost? A: The cost of installation varies depending on the size of the system, the number of indoor units, and the complexity of the installation. On average, homeowners can expect to spend between $3,000 and $8,000.

Q: How long does the installation process take? A: A typical ductless air conditioner installation can be completed in one to two days, depending on the number of indoor units and the complexity of the installation.

Q: Are ductless systems energy-efficient? A: Yes, ductless air conditioners are highly energy-efficient. They offer zoned cooling, eliminating the energy losses associated with ductwork, and many models use inverter technology for even greater efficiency.

Q: Do ductless air conditioners require maintenance? A: Like all HVAC systems, ductless air conditioners require regular maintenance to ensure optimal performance. This includes cleaning or replacing filters, checking refrigerant levels, and inspecting the system for any potential issues.

Conclusion

Ductless air conditioner installation in San Diego offers a modern, efficient, and cost-effective solution for your home’s cooling needs. With benefits like energy efficiency, ease of installation, improved indoor air quality, and quiet operation, ductless systems are an excellent choice for many homeowners. At EZ Heat and Air, we are committed to providing top-quality installation services and ensuring your complete satisfaction. Contact us today and discover how a ductless air conditioner can enhance your home’s comfort and efficiency.

[cornerstonerealtysblog]

A house is made of bricks and beams but a home is made of hopes and dreams!

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💠Premium Features-

✅ It is an Earthquake Resistant RCC Framed Structure

✅ An Appropriate finish of Texture Paint of exterior grade.

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✅ Modular  Kitchen Cabinets of appropriate Finish

✅ Highly spacious balconies to let the fresh breeze come in

✅ Three lifts including One Service Lift of Premium Brand to be provided in each tower to access all the floors

✅ PVC Concealed with Conduit i/c copper wiring

✅ Electrical point for Split type Air conditioners in every room

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To Experience Our Lowest Price Guarantee,Contact Us Today and Discover How We Can Assist You in Achieving Your Real Estate Goals.

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[hayespcrter]

— who: @gemma-devereux— where: Deverocks Records

The good thing about being handy was how many people wanted to hire you for quick jobs they needed done. The bad thing about being handy was when your friends called you at seven am because they arrived to work early and the office’s air conditioner was broken in the middle of summer in Tennessee. How fast can you get here? His friend - a producer over at Deverocks Records - asked a still pretty much asleep Hayes without even trying to figure out if the blonde could. To be honest Hayes very rarely said no to jobs, he was getting paid and he was helping a friend so what was the harm? But he really considered it today. Getting out of his bed was a struggle. But after the promise of free coffee and lunch if the fix took that long, Hayes was across town, sitting on the floor behind the front desk of this record label, fucking around with their air conditioning unit when the security system announced someone at the door.  “Hey, can I help you?” He asked on reflex. Maybe in his heart he thought he’d be mistaken for the receptionist, given where he was standing. But the receptionist had disappeared for a few meetings or whatever while he worked, and also who would believe this person behind the desk in a band tshirt with the sleeves cut off and a backwards baseball hat covering the tousled hair he didn’t comb before he left, was working in a fancy office like this one? No one. “....sorry the answer to that question is no regardless if you needed help or not,” Hayes laughed, finally turning to see who was standing there. Gemma Devereux definitely didn’t need his help getting around this office. “Oh hey. How's it goin?” He asked, giving her a quick nod before going back to the wiring in his hands. 

[ohtobeleah]

Pre-Prep // Sebastian Stan

Summary: After a celebratory drink or “drinks”with Sebastian, you meet yourself co-star Anthony Mackie.

The Interview Series: In Production Series

“C’mon! Let’s go grab a feed, pub schnitzels on me?” You asked Sebastian. Your excitement evident in the way your hands fell to his shoulders with a gentle slap. Shaking him softly as you beamed. Cheeks painfully exhausted from smiling so much. You’d nailed the apartment sequence, watching the play-back on the monitor. Who ever thought you’d get used to falling out of a fake building rigged up to a high wire. You’d been running the same sequence for three weeks, amongst other things. Take after take you go a little better each and every time.

“You look like a pro.” Sebastian chuckled as he watched you fall into his chest. “Kinda almost looks like you are completely terrified.” Sebastian leaned over onto his elbows, watching the play-back again and again. “That looks awesome, but uh-yeah, sure let’s go, I think a celebratory drink is definitely on the cards.”

“Nope, no way—I’m serious! No drinks!” You shouted over your shoulder, Sebastian trailed hot on your tail.

“You don’t go to a pub without at least having one beer!” A cheeky grin plastered on his face. “Y/n!” You didn’t respond, grabbing your jacket as Sebastian did his. “One beer?” You tried to stand your ground, you really did, but the way Sebastian winked your way when he saw your lips curving into a smirk—he brought his bottom lip between his teeth, accepting the small victory. You’d known Sebastian for three weeks, spending almost every waking moment together apart from the hour spent catching up on sleep. A friendship sparking instantly. Rumours had started to stir about who was cast in the second season Kevin Feige had teased. Although he’d announced it, although he’d mentioned a new face he’d scouted, a new character, new story line, new actress to the marvel universe, he’d never specifically said a name. Wanting to keep his cards close to his chest. Rumours had started gaining tracking the second those who paid close attention attention to Sebastian Stan the second he’d followed you on Instagram—almost instantly over night you’d gone from just over a hundred followers to over a couple hundred thousand. All because of speculation and fan theories.

“Okay, one drink!” You sighed, linking arms with Sebastian as he led you out. “But that’s it! Just one!”

***~***~***~***~***~

Heavy handed pounding against the oak of your apartment door had you gasping out of your deep sleep. Eye mask over your eyes, the type to have “fuck off” writing in black cursive over the white sateen fabric. Sitting up you pulled the mask over your head with a gruff. Hair a birds nest from the restless night you had. Your eyes struggling to adjust to the light shining through your studio apartment you tried so desperately to make a humble abode, bouncing off every surface as you crinkled your nose and squinted your eyes.

Another loud, intrusive knock had you throwing your bed cover off of you into a messed ball on your bed. Feet stomping across the hardwood flooring that sent shivers down your spine. Like ice this early in the morning. The sun had yet to do its intended job—you thought global warming was a thing? Why the fuck was your apartment always so damn cold no matter the decent exposure. Making a detour past the air conditioner—you set it to heat before another loud knock echoed through your apartment.

“This better be life or death.” You grumbled as you unlocked the door, swinging it open just before knuckles could once again connect to oak and send you into a fit or rage. “What the fuck Sebastian it’s 7:30!” You sighed, leaning against the open door—pressing your cheek to the corner with tired eyes and puffy cheeks. Eyes closed with exhaustion. Hungover. Sebastian beamed a bright smile your way—squeezing past you into your apartment, the scent of fresh coffee peaking your interest. Sebastian tried to push aside the fact you were half naked—just an oversized sleeping shift adorning your body. Your house, your rules.

“I’ve got coffee and mc-muffins.” You moaned, stomping your foot childishly as Sebastian took a seat at your kitchen counter, his hand ruffling in the brown McDonald’s bag, pulling out a breakfast of champions one item at a time. The smell of the fast food that sure enough would clog your arteries took over your apartment quickly. Shutting your door your feet padded against the floor. “Come eat something so I know you e got at least something in your system, you’ve still got bits of last nights schnitzel in hour hair Y/l/n.” You remembered bits and pieces, not the puzzle was definitely incomplete. One beer, you said one beer!

“Shit Stan you sure know the way to my heart.” You teased. Grabbing a mc-muffin and take-away cup of coffee. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought we could walk to set this morning, also thought I’d make sure you were still alive.”

“Well I’m very much alive and breathing.” You hissed, your head throbbing as you playfully snatched a hash-brown.

“You smell like Bourbon? Did you even drink  Bourbon last night?” Sebastian chuckled as you groaned. His voice just a little too loud in your ear. You shook your head no, squinting your eyes as you palmed your sockets.

“Not that I can remember, why are you so chipper, you were drinking too?” You asked a Sebastian drank his coffee, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Stopped after the third round of shots, could see a train wreck happening from a mile away—you were fucked.” 

“Please—please don’t remind me.” You groaned, sitting on the stool at your kitchen counter beside Sebastian as he chowed down on his breakfast, the smell alone made you want to be sick, but at the same time your stomach growled. Hungry and craving sustenance. ”you’re a bad influence, I’ve never had that much to drink before, my liver is crying Seb, I don’t even remember how I got home.” Your forehead hit the counter with a prolonged groan, Sebastian remembered. He’d made sure you got home safe. Carried you down the hall of your apartment building over his shoulder passed out cold. Dead to the world. Your neighbour Miss Rudninsky had come out to see what the fuss was about when Sebastian couldn’t find your key.

“She keeps I spare key on-top of the doorframe son.” Sebastian nodded softly as he reached up for your spare key, unlocking your apartment door. Gesturing to the old lady who seemed to know everything. “Don’t you try anything with her young man, I’ve got ears like a hawk.”

“Saw you get a cab.” Sebastian mumbled. “And hey, It was your idea to go to the pub after prep, not mine.”

“Yeah? Who ordered tequila shots?” You countered. Sebastian only smirked in response. Taking a sip of his coffee. “God, what’s on today’s agenda? No rigs, please, I’ll projectile onto the crew.”

“Nah, no rigs, Anthony’s in today though! So aren’t you in luck.” Your heart sank. Your eyes met Sebastians with fear riddled in the swirls of (Y/E/C) eyes.

“Are you kidding me! Seb! You did this on purpose are you serious! That’s today?” You hissed out a sigh as you looked through your phone, bringing up the Pre-Prep schedule. “Fuck my life—“ Sebastian watched as you stood with a slight stumble, the sleep shirt you wore covering your body only halfway down your thigh. Legs on display as he tried not to stare. “I have to shower and shave and, and you need to ship it!” You gestured to the front door as you grabbed a towel from the linen cupboard.

“What!? Why? I’m enjoying my meal, you’re kicking me out? I brought you breakfast Y/l/n!” You chuckled as you ran back across your apartment, taking the half eaten mc-muffin from Sebastians hand, grabbing your coffee before sending him a wink over your shoulder. Sebastian sat still, just watching the chaos that was you.

“I’ll meet you at set! Apologise to Kari for me! I’ll be like ten minutes late!” You slammed your bathroom door, Sebastian could hear the water in the pipes rushing to the shower head. Shaking his head as he looked around your apartment. The echoing of your music playing from your phone caught Sebastians attention, he only assumed you’d sat it on the bathroom sink. Chase Atlantic’s slow down blaring off the walls as steam filled the bathroom—your body aching under the warmth of the water cascading down your body.

“Just so you know I’m leaving on my own accord not because you kicked me to the curb!” Sebastian shouted. Banging on your bathroom door. You smirked to yourself as steam fogged the mirror. Reaching for the coffee you’d sat on your caddy.

“You know if this was rolls reversed you would’ve called the cops on me by now, get outta here you psycho!” you laughed, Sebastian smirked. Nodding slight as he grabbed the rest of his breakfast, leaving you a hash-brown for the walk over.

***~***~***~***~***~

“CUT THE CHECK!” You heard what could only be Anthony’s voice bellowing off the walls as you rushed into set. Heavy breath’s escaped your mouth as you locked eyes with Sebastian. A cheeky smirk creeping onto his face. You’d run to Pre-Prep, trying to be on time. Your hair still wet as you tied it up into a bum. “Ay yo—Sebastian get your ass over here!” Anthony shouted. Sebastian broke eye contact with you as he walked towards Anthony on the crash mat. “You gonna actually do some work or what?” Sebastian shook his head. Tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he offered Anthony a hand, helping the self titled comedian off his back.

“I’ve got bruises on bruises man, you let me know when you catch up, we’ll compare then.” Sebastian smirked, embracing the man the myth the legend that you’d heard so much about. Anthony Mackie. You hadn’t felt this nervous since your first day of Pre-prep, walking towards where the two man stood talking quietly. “Before I forget, Anthony, this is Y/n Y/l/n, the one I’ve been telling you about.” Anthony’s eye grew wide with joy. You didn’t have time to question Sebastian, what had he told Anthony about you?

“Ahh, not shit, how are you!” His arms wrapping you into a warm embrace. Your arms shot you and around his torso. “I’ve heard so much about you, little miss Agent Avery.” You beamed at the name, the character you were playing already apart of who you were. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” You laughed in response, pulling away from Anthony as you looked over to Sebastian.

“I’m so excited to work with you, Really, I’m just eager to be here, I think we have a few sequences to run together, pretty bummed we don’t have more.”

“Ah, just wait till we start shooting, you’ll be sick of me in no time.” Anthony joked. You smiled in response with a small nod. You could here Kari calling your name. “I better go.” You gestured over your shoulder, turning to follow the sound of your voice. Walking off as Sebastians eyes followed you.

“So that’s Y/n huh?” Anthony teased.

“That’s her.” Sebastian smirked, nodding softly as he watched you laugh with Kari, nodding as she showed you some mock ups of your characters tactical suit. Asking for your honest opinion. It’s was starting to feel real, like this was your life and not some dream you could wake up from any second now. “She’s great.”

“Seems friendly.”

“She is, she kicked me out of her apartment this morning so ma—“ Anthony interrupted before Sebastian could finish his sentence.

“Hang on? What were you doing at her apartment this morning?”

“We went out last night, had a couple of drinks—“ again, Anthony was interrupting too soon. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t such an introvert, maybe whenever he was with Anthony it was just he couldn’t get a word in to save his life.

“You stay over? Holy shit Sebastian.” Sebastian groaned, his hand coming to cover his face in annoyance.

“No! I didn’t stay over, I brought her coffee, that’s it.”

“What have you two been getting up to these last three weeks, I turn my back for what five minutes and you’re—“ Sebastian wanted to walk away from this conversation immediately. It was really getting away from him. Snowballing faster then he could stop it.

“Nothing alright, she’s cool, she’s chaotic, she’s just a nice person, just been getting to know her that’s all, she’s not Hollywood—she’s down to earth, doesn’t have her head in the clouds or up someone’s ass. Just wait till you get to know her man, I’m telling you.”

“You like her don’t you?” Anthony teased. Poking Sebastians side, drawing a chuffed laugh from him along with a Cheshire Cat smile. “Don’t go messing around with co-workers man shit gets awkward.”

“We’re friends Anthony, just friends.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m blind.” Anthony scoffed, patting Sebastian on his chest. “You’re gonna fall on your face if your not careful man, I’m telling you, don’t mix business with pleasure.”

“I do that with you all the time!” Sebastian called out after Anthony as he walked away. Anthony turned as he walked, walking backwards with a smirk.

“That’s different, you’re not trying to get in my pants between takes my guy.”

“Just friends!!” Sebastian shouted. Anthony waved him off. Knowing full well exactly where this was going. He could see it happening from a mile away. “Hey wait!! Anthony!” Sebastian almost forgot, jogging to catch up as Anthony continued to walk. You phone in his pocket, having sneaked it from your pocket—smooth criminal style. “We gotta do the post remember?” Anthony paused his movements, remembering.

“Let’s go outside, I need some air.”

***~***~***~***~***~*

“Okay, so we’re gonna run it again.” Aaron Toney suggested after he’d finished watching you and Sebastian run through the sequence. Fight coordinator and Anthony’s stunt double, you liked Aaron. He was a kind spirit, he worked you to the bone though—he saw your potential, knowing you wanted to do most of your own stunt work and fight sequences, no matter how taxing they could be. “Y/n, let’s change it up.” Your ears pricked as you tried to steady your breathing, still down on the crash mat on your back. Arms and legs spread. “You have more mobility in your left arm?” You nodded as you rolled over to your stomach.

“Old rotator cuff injury with my right, what are you thinking?” You asked as Sebastian offered you a water bottle, looking up you sent him a small hushed thank-you.

“I wanna flip the sequence, lead with your left, that way when Sebastian pins your arm behind your back it looks less forced and you can get a higher angle.” You nodded in response, mouth full of water.

“Makes sense—“

“Okay let’s run this again, put your dukes up Y/l/n.” Sebastian teased, bouncing around the mat as he ducked and weaved through air. Throwing jabs and upper cuts at nothing. An amateur Rocky Balboa. You sighed as you stood, sending him a teased smirk as you mimicked his movements.

“Y/n!” Kari called as she reached you. You hummed in response. “Can I give you a tip? For when you find yourself behind the camera?”

“Sure, anything you want, I just wanna do good.” You smiled softly.

“When your running through this particular sequence you need to get into a different state of mind so your expressions match the atmosphere, See red like a bull to a matador, okay? You need to have those eyes that are just completely full of anger, but not directed at anyone or anything specifically, just—emotionless.” Kari added, you gave you a soft nod before she left, standing with Anthony and the rest of the crew that were working with you and Sebastian on this particular shot. You held your starting stance—Sebastian his. He wore a small red mark that was surely throbbing from when you’d accidentally made contact from the last run through. You wore one on your rib, just under your sternum. 

“Okay when you’re ready Sebastian make the first move.” Aaron called out, Sebastian let out an exaggerated exhale before striking a jab you easily blocked with your forearm. You pushed back and followed through with an uppercut he pretended to take, a small groan leaving his lips as he stumbled back. Following through you pretended to send your foot into his chest, grabbing at your ankle, you knew your least favourite part was coming. Twisting you around and sending you flying to your stomach into your crash mat below. A thud escaping your mouth as Sebastian worked to drag you back towards him. A knee to your back softly before you sent the back of your head colliding with his nose. You didn’t actually get him—but to fake gasp he let out almost made you think you did.

“Nice Y/n! Now on your feet!” Aaron called out. You rushed to your feet, gaining your stability before rushing Sebastian, the cross you’d swung his way he caught, twisting your left arm behind your back, his other arm came to wrap around your throat—forearm pressing against your neck as his chest pressed against your back. Tight constricting pressure around your neck you didn’t expect but also weren’t afraid of. It was Sebastian.

“No seriously Kari, Where did you find this girl?” Anthony asked Kari softly as he watched you and Sebastian work. Leaning into the director’s shoulder slightly. Kari beamed so bright, her eyes focusing on you and Sebastian—working like a well oiled machine. Perfectly in sync. She could see the chemistry between the two of you building. Something highly sort after.

“Kevin was scouting gyms in the area for you guys to train at and she was on the floor with a client. She’s a trainer, never acted a day in her life.”

“Get outta town.” Anthony’s jaw hit the ground, finding it hard to believe as he crossed his arms over his chest, completely consumed by you. Sending your head forward then back you fell forward to your knees. Sebastian beamed when you turned around. Not a single scratch.

“That was awesome!” Aaron shouted, clapping as did Kari. “Well done guys, that looked so much better just with that flip alone.”

“I can feel my heart beating in my ass!” You sighed from the crash mat, you always ended up on your back. Gasping for air, your lungs screaming.

“You almost broke my nose.” Sebastian teased, giving you a hand up. Pulling you up easily.

“Fuck off I didn’t even get you.” You laughed. Pushing his chest softly. “You chocked me out though, little rough there.” You teased back, smirking as Sebastian just crinkled his nose. “Hand to hand combats easier then high wires.”

“We’ve got a lot more the get through so I wouldn’t sound so sure, besides, the way you swing your left hooks I’ll end up with a black eye sooner or later and the second that happens you’ll be begging to work on wires again.” Sebastian wrapped his arm around your shoulder, you wrapped your arm around his waist, trying to trip his foot up as you walked together, your laughter melting together with his. Pre-Prep wasn’t as bad as it first seemed.

You reached for your phone, fishing it from your bag, your eyes wide with shock at the amount of messages, texts, Instagram notifications and Snapchat’s that lit up your screen.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled, unwrapping your arm from Sebastians torso as you flicked your phone open, clicking your Instagram story to see the two men who would soon encapsulate your entire life. “What the hell is this?” You asked through a soft chuckle. Looking at Sebastian—he winked.

“Fame and fortune Y/n, fame and fortune.”

Tags:

@iamtheonewhocares

[hairringtonsteve]

wrong house, right time

[joaquin torres x reader]

summary: Sometimes, life just sucks and nothing can be done. But when one (1) Joaquin Torres shows up to fix for air conditioner, your week gets just a little better.

word count: 2,262

a/n: I wasn't going to post this publicly, but @anna-phora told me to do it, so I'm accidentally stepping into MCU fic. Which like... was the eventual plan if I'm being honest. but this was written specifically for her because I'm a great friend. (edited so it's not including her name, lol)

________________________________________________

There are some weeks that are worse than others. You know this. You have accepted this It’s par for the course in life. But really – couldn’t Teacher Appreciation Week be better than the other weeks? It doesn’t even have to be by a lot. You’d take a smidge at this point. Hell, you’d take just about anything. You rested your head against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinet and sighed. On the counter, your phone chimed, signaling a text. A moment later, it chimed again.

“Better be something good,” you mumbled. You fumbled for it blindly, refusing to look for it. This week was exhausting. You weren’t going to move more than you had to for the next two days. After a few seconds, your fingertips bumped up against the edge. Unlocking it without looking, you finally cracked an eye open, pulling away from the cabinet just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.

A second later, two more texts popped onto the screen.

You let out a snort of laughter as you read the messages. You’d almost forgot. One of your neighbors had recommended him, saying that a friend of a friend was pretty handy with fixing things, and would probably do it for a small fee. You’d hesitated at first, but thinking about how much money a handyman would be had swayed you over.

Glancing down at your dog, Darcy, you hummed softly. “If you’re extra nice, maybe he won’t charge us.”

You ran a hand over your face as you headed through the kitchen and to the front door. You hadn’t heard any knocking, so you assumed he was right in that he was at the wrong house. Opening up the door, you peered through the screen. It took a few seconds, but you spotted a guy slowly wandering down the sidewalk, eyes glued to his phone with a toolbox in his free hand. Every few seconds he would glance up, frown, and then look back to his phone. You figured that it was him, but you didn’t say anything. It was the safe thing to do, to not yell at random men from your house.

And besides, he was cute.

Your gaze slipped over him as he walked. Short hair, strong shoulders. Despite the distance, you could tell that he was handsome. A few more steps and he was one house down. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery.

His head jerked up as he looked around, his gaze eventually settling on you. You quirked a brow at him and he held up his phone in question. You nodded, motioning for him to come inside. A grin stretched across his lips and something in your chest twisted.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was really cute.

Very cute.

Handsome.

Shit.

You swallowed and mustered up a grin as he started up the steps. Darcy started barking, excited at the prospect of meeting literally anyone. You unlocked the screen door and took a few steps back, hooking your fingers through her collar to make sure she didn’t take a running leap at him.

“It’s open,” you called as he reached the door. Darcy barked, tugging forward in Joaquin’s direction. “Sorry about her, she’s just really friendly.”

Joaquin was already kneeling down, setting his toolbox down beside him. “It’s fine, I love dogs. You can let her go.” He paused. “If that’s okay?”

You shrug as you let her go. Darcy shot forward, leaping towards him with an excited bark. She was all over him, unable to decide whether jumping or nuzzling was the way to go. You straightened up, your heart already doing triple time at the sight.

“So,” he started, taking his eyes off of Darcy for a second to look up at you. “Your AC is acting up?”

You nodded. “I have no clue what’s going on with it, but it won’t work. Thank you so much for coming to check it out.”

“Oh, no problem at all,” he said, rubbing Darcy’s ears. Her tail wagged furiously. “Especially for a pretty girl.” Red crept up from his neck to his ears, flushing his face in a way that made him even more attractive. He ducked his head, bashful, as he focused solely on Darcy. “So what’s her name?” The sentence came out fast, like one long word.

“Oh, um, it’s Darcy.” Words were hard to form when the phrase ‘pretty girl’ was echoing around your brain.

“Like the author?” He lifted his head as he asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I had to read a lot of her stuff in high school. Pride and Prejudice was always my favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “You read a lot?”

You shrugged. “Well, I am a high school English teacher.”

Joaquin laughed and nodded his head. “So you read a hell of a lot, then?” His grin settled more into a smile as he -- somewhat unsubtly -- looked you up and down. A beat of silence, and then: “So, you wanna show me the unit?” He grabbed his toolbox and stood up, arching his back a little as he tried to stretch it out from being crouched down.

“Sure,” you said as you started up the stairs. It was quiet as the two of you walked.

“So when did it stop working?” Joaquin asked, breaking the silence.

“The other day. It just started to sputter a little bit and then quit after a few seconds.” You opened up the door and motioned him inside. The AC was still in the window, still mocking you as it sat in the hot, unmoving air.

“And it hasn’t started up since?”

“Nope. I’ve been dying of heatstroke since Wednesday.”

“Makes sense,” he said as he began to shrug off his jacket. The black t-shirt underneath fit him well.

A little too well, if you were being honest.

He stepped over to the unit and began to lift the window up, as though he were planning to get it out by himself when it was clearly a two-person job.

“You need help?” You asked, already moving towards him.

“I’ve got it, I’m strong,” he said, waving you away. You went to argue with him, but he was already wrapping his arms around the thing. With his attention focused on lifting the unit out of the window, you were free to watch as his muscles strained. What was a two-person job for you was easily a one-person job for him. He took his time in setting it on the ground, guiding it down gently. He pressed his lips together as he sat down on the ground and reached for his toolbox. He looked up to where you were still standing.

“Oh, did you want me to -- I can head downstairs? So I don’t bother you?” You took a step back, but paused as he shrugged.

“Or you could stay up here. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Your stomach flipped. You stepped inside and took a seat on the ground a few feet away from him, making it a little harder for Darcy to investigate what he was doing. That was it. You were there to keep Darcy away. But as you sat there, you realized that you had no clue what to talk about? What was he into?

It was quiet for a few seconds before he asked what your favorite movie was. And suddenly, the two of you were off. Time passed quickly as you spoke, moving from favorite movies to books to exchanging family stories. You learned that he was in the military, and traveled often. You’d asked what he did, and he just shrugged his shoulders, looking from the AC unit to you, and smirked.

“Stuff.”

“Like top-secret stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” he’d said, holding the smirk for another second before laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

You liked it.

Despite it feeling as though no time at all had passed, he announced the culprit -- a bad wire -- and it seemed like once he’d figured it out, he was done. But when you glanced at the time on your phone, your eyes widened. Two hours had gone by.

You shifted your gaze over to the window as Joaquin straightened up and tried out the AC unit. It worked like a charm. He nodded and gave the unit a little pat, as though silently congratulating it for working once more.

“So how much do I owe you?” You asked as he turned to face you.

“Nothing, that was easy.”

“That was two hours, I have to give you something.”

He shook his head. “Your company was enough.”

“Come on, let me--”

“Y/N,” he said, taking a step forward. “Your company was worth it, I’m not accepting your money.” He pressed his lips together, looking as though he wanted to say something more when his phone went off. He glanced down at it and sighed. “One sec?” He asked, already swiping to answer the call. “Hey Mom, yeah I -- yeah. Yeah, yes. I can pick that up. You want me to snag one for Grandma, too? No, I just finished fixing up the AC, I -- She’s -- Mom.” You couldn’t tell what was being said, but his cheeks were starting to flush. You could hear laughter on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You raised a brow. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, she wants me to stop by the store on my way to visit her.” He glanced from you to Darcy and sighed. “I should probably be on my way out.”

Disappointment made itself at home in your chest. “Right, yeah,” you said, heading towards the door. The two of you made your way down the stairs, Darcy following happily behind. When you reached the first floor, you went to lean against the couch. Joaquin had his hands in his jacket pockets as he made it a few steps after you. He stood there, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Thank you, seriously. I cannot thank you enough for fixing that,” you said.

He shook his head and grinned softly. “It was no problem, Y/N.” He took a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you. “I’ll see you around?”

You returned his grin with one of your own. “You’ve got my number.”

His grin grew even wider before he turned and headed out the door. Darcy trotted over to the door after it closed, her eyes tracking his every move as he headed towards the sidewalk. You watched for another second before calling Darcy away from the door. A minute and one treat later, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. Idly, you switched tabs from Facebook to Tumblr, trying your hardest to avoid thinking about the last couple of hours before you heard your phone go off. Thumbing into your messages, your face instantly lit up.

________________________________________________

Two months later, you found yourself walking towards a small, hole-in-the-wall bar tucked into a sidestreet. Joaquin’s hand on the small of your back as you walked, you trying not to laugh as he gave you what felt like a rundown before one of his missions.

“Just… ignore them if they try to embarrass me, okay? I’m much cooler than whatever they say.”

You laughed. “Are you, though? Are you really?”

“Hey,” he said, giving you an indignant look as he held the door open for you. You stepped inside, taking note of how warm it was inside. People crowded around tables, the low hum of voices occasionally getting louder when the television in the corner showed someone making a basket. Joaquin tapped your shoulder, nodding to the right. “I am very cool, I’ll have you know. Just last week, I –”

“Hey, Torres!” A voice called from a back booth. Joaquin sighed as he stepped in front of you and lead you towards the booth. “Weren’t you the one to say, ‘be there at seven and don’t be late, I really like this girl?’ And you’re what, thirty minutes late?”

“Thirty-two minutes late, by my count,” another voice chimes in as the two of you get closer. You’re already grinning as you note how Joaquin ducked his head.

You lean forward, just close enough so he’ll be able to hear you. “You really like this girl, huh?”

It was difficult to hear his response with his back turned to you, but you watched as his shoulders slumped and caught what sounded like a “not you too.” You tilted your head back and laughed, bright and airy, as you approached the table. Your eyes settled on the two men crowded into the booth, your laugh cutting off as recognition settled in.

He hadn’t said that they were these friends.

“Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you. Like a lot about you.”

He’d only ever talked about work in the abstract, which made sense. It wasn’t like he could go on, telling you all the details about whatever mission he was on. But he’d spoken of coworkers and even one that had become a friend. But he’d never mentioned names, or the context of things, or…

“Honestly, the kid doesn’t shut up about you.”

Or the fact that they were literal Avengers.

Joaquin groaned. “Can you two—”

Sam Wilson settled back into his seat and grinned as he motioned for you to sit down. “I’m Sam, this is Bucky. It’s good to finally meet you.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

one, two, three, four

gothic horror is not frightening because of the monster, gothic horror is frightening because the monster is you. your loss, your pain, your grief, your horror. the parts of you skulking in the shadows of a haunted house that is only haunted by that merciless clench of the jaws of time. it's the scared child and the mourning mother and the hunger buried deep in your gut and the terrible emptiness in your chest at the end of the day. you can never look directly at them and so you must search. you have to care, to look for a way to heal the hurt, you have to be human.

you have to be achingly human to survive gothic horror.

Or, a poltergeist, a spirit, a memory, and the lonely soul trying to put pieces into place.

also known as it’s gaon’s turn for me to spend too long thinking about and now y’all get to read the results

Read on Ao3

Pairings: gahan, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Warnings: implied/ref child abuse but what else is new, implied/ref suicide attempt

Word Count: 3687

The first ghost is a poltergeist.

 Doors are slammed in the middle of the night, jolting Gaon from his sleep. Temperatures drop as soon as he steps into rooms, the air conditioner turning on full blast, even in the middle of winter. Noise makes it impossible to focus and every time he tries to clean something, he’ll turn around and it’ll be all dirty again.

 The day the ashtray is picked up and dumped on him, he’s had enough.

 He goes into the garage and finds a bag of rock salt for the driveway. He sets it near the doorway and goes into the living room to find the iron poker by the hearth.

 He pretends not to hear the angry creak of floorboards behind him.

 The salt he places next to him, taking a handful of it to sprinkle against the windowsill. He works slowly, methodically, the poker relaxed in his other hand.

 He pretends he can’t feel the icy cold breath on his neck.

 He keeps going, taking another small handful for one of the doors. He crouches, spreading it evenly, taking his time making sure the line is drawn neat and precise.

 He pretends he can’t tell the ghost is already on the inside of all the lines he’s drawing.

 When he returns to the desk for another handful of salt, he pointedly ignores the open drawer and takes the salt to the last door. He couches down, the poker almost clattering to the floor as he works. He stands up when he’s finished and doesn’t even blink as the bag of salt is thrown across the room. At least he remembered to close it. He just tights and puts the poker back by the fireplace.

 “There isn’t a need for all that,” he says calmly, “you don’t frighten me.”

 The bookshelf begins to rattle.

 “Or that.” Gaon sits down on the couch and watches the books rattle behind the glass. “If you want to read, we can sort that out, but you shouldn’t throw a tantrum.”

 Then he hears the footsteps behind him and gets up to see a stern older man glaring at him from behind wire rimmed glasses.

 “Hello,” he tries, “my name is Kim Gaon.”

 “Get out,” the man snarls, “get out of my house.”

 “It’s not your house anymore,” Gaon says, not unkindly, “it hasn’t been for a long time.”

 “I should beat you for that,” the man growls and suddenly there’s something glowing in his hand.

 Gaon looks and swallows his fear as the meter stick curves wickedly from the gloved hand. Its silver is almost knifelike in the darkening room. The man notices his gaze and raises it threateningly.

 Gaon looks back at him. “Go on, then.”

 The man snarls and the meter stick flashes out and—

 It stops.

 About a centimeter from Gaon’s face.

 The man is panting as if he’d just run for hours, sweat beginning to bead on his brow as the meter stick trembles. Gaon looks at it and him for another moment.

 “Is it because of my face?”

 The man snarls and turns his back. Gaon watches him closely, looking at the way the meter stick is still trembling.

 “Did you hate him because he reminded you of what you’d done,” Gaon asks, “or of what you’d become?”

 “You insolent brat,” the man hisses, whipping around, “have you no respect for your elders?”

 Gaon shakes his head. “You didn’t answer the question.”

 The man steps forward but doesn’t threaten Gaon with the ruler again. “You failed. You tried to keep me out.”

 “No,” he corrects, “I wanted to talk to you. And you still haven’t answered my questions.”

 Something in the man snaps, then. Not in that he explodes, no, but something…something gives. He wilts slightly, the meter stick now hanging limply at his side. He won’t meet Gaon’s eyes anymore.

 “He was going to kill Isaac,” the man mumbles eventually, “he—he was going to kill him. I couldn’t—I couldn’t let that happen.”

 “He was a child.”

 “I could tell.” The man’s head jerks up again. “He—he had so much of me in him. I could tell. That was the only way it could go.”

 Gaon waits a moment. “…is that what you told yourself?”

 The man flinches as if Gaon had struck out at him. “He…he always looked like me.”

 He blinks at Gaon.

 “He always--you always—Isaac always looked like her.”

 “But she was gone,” Gaon says softly, “and you took your anger out on what you thought was the reason she left.”

 The man opens his mouth.

 “Not the boy,” Gaon says instead, “but the pieces of you you saw inside him.”

 There. The man crumples, falling to his knees and bringing one hand to his face. Gaon takes a deep breath as the ghost’s emotions wash over him. It is not his job to forgive, nor his responsibility, even as the man sobs about how much he wanted her back, how much he missed her, how much he hated himself for not being able to do more. At last, he says something about not knowing what to do and Gaon crouches.

 “You have to let go,” he says, “you can’t keep yourself here in this house. It’s done, it’s over, you can’t change it.”

 “But if I could save her—“

 “She’s been gone a long time. So have you.” Gaon gestures around. “You’re both on the same side, now. Why are you still here instead of going to her?”

 The man flinches. “She won’t—she won’t want—what if she’s angry at me?”

 Gaon reaches out. “There is no use remaining here. Go. Find her. If she’s still the woman you loved, you know something about that.”

 The first ghost is the quickest to deal with and fades, leaving the meter stick behind on the floor. Gaon picks it up carefully and cleans up the salt, boiling some water and carefully wiping it down. He places it back in the desk, where it can do no more harm, and sets the salt back in the garage.

 The house is a little warmer after that.

 The second ghost is a spirit.

 Plants are covered in the lightest touch of frost when Gaon tends to them. A deck of cards is laid out on the desk, slightly haphazardly stacked as Gaon comes into the study. One of the teacups is turned to the left as he goes to clean the shelf.

 He’s not surprised, then, when he turns into the study one day and sees an almost mirror of his face turning to look at him.

 “Good morning,” he says, “I’d offer you coffee, but…”

 Isaac laughs. “I appreciate the sentiment. I promise I won’t be offended if you have one, though.”

 Gaon ends up on the couch, a mug grabbed, filled, and cupped between his hands as Isaac sits on the chair across from him.

 “It really is…uncanny,” he mumbles after a minute, “I mean—I’ve seen pictures, but…”

 “But it’s another thing to actually speak to them, hmm?” Isaac tilts his head. “How do you think I felt, watching you come into this house for the first time?”

 “Given that I don’t really remember that—“

 Isaac hums. “You were hurt, yes. Though I must say, I’ve never seen my brother be quite so concerned over a stranger before.”

 Gaon pointedly ignores that comment, instead taking another sip of his coffee. “So you’ve been here since…”

 “Since the fire, yes,” Isaac says softly, “but I can’t remember all of it. I…mostly, I just remember watching…her.”

 They talk for a while about his daughter. About Kkomi curling up in Elijah’s lap, about watching her learn how to paint for the first time, how much she’s grown.

 “Have you seen her paintings?”

 He shakes his head. Isaac smiles at him.

 “There’s one in particular you should see,” he says in that soft way that means he’s not going to tell Gaon anymore about it, but he’s quite sure it will be something Gaon will enjoy.

 Isaac doesn’t always have enough energy to stay around for very long, but his presence is always the strongest in Elijah’s room. Gaon finds himself knocking on the door, even when he isn’t sure if the ghost will be there, just out of politeness. Isaac comments on it once, saying that he’s never quite gotten used to someone actually knocking on a door.

 “Believe me, I know the feeling.”

 But Kang Isaac is hiding behind a different kind of mask than the one the other ghost did. One that Gaon only knows how to recognize from years and years of wearing a very similar one himself.

 “Why are you still here,” he asks as kindly as he can when he next finds Isaac in Elijah’s old room, “what’s keeping you?”

 Isaac is quiet. Then he chuckles ruefully. “You really are a persistent one, aren’t you?”

 Gaon stays silent, waiting for an answer. Isaac’s shoulders slump after a moment, his hand on the bed, staring at the pillow as if Elijah will appear.

 “I don’t regret a lot of things,” he settles on eventually, “not when it comes to her. My—my wife and I, we…we did our best for her. She knew she was loved and I think…I think she was happy.”

 “She was,” Gaon says softly, “she knows.”

 Isaac’s jaw clenches. “But with Yohan…”

 The name rings in the room like a thunderclap.

 Isaac turns to look at him. “He never told you about what happened, did he?”

 “…which part?”

 Isaac laughs humorlessly. “The part where it was my fault he was raised in an abusive home with a father that hated his very existence.”

 “…what?”

 “Our father tried to abandon him,” Isaac says, staring into nothing, “in a cold wooden box, on the floor, still wrapped in a blanket. I stopped him, ran past him to hold my brother in my arms. I was crying. I didn’t understand how my father could just leave him.”

 The room begins to grow colder.

 “How could I have known,” he says, bitterness beginning to leak into his words, “that I was bringing a child back to a father who despised him so much he locked him in the basement, beat him, abused him until he believed he was a monster?”

 Gaon swallows. “You couldn’t have known. You were a child too, Isaac. You can’t be blamed for the actions of your father any more than he can.”

 Isaac turns to look at him. “Do you know what he said when I asked him why he was doing this?”

 Gaon shakes his head.

 “He said it was for me. That he was doing this to protect me.” Gaon does know that, but he reaches out still as Isaac begins to claw at his arms. “So I—if I was out of the way—“

 “Hey,” Gaon says firmly, “don’t do that, you’re already dead, stop.”

 Isaac stops, a laugh sobbing out of his throat, now. “Can you imagine how frustrating it was to die when I finally wanted to live? For—for so long, I…and then…”

 Gaon wishes he could reach out and coax Isaac’s hands away from his arms, but he can’t. Instead, he carefully sits down on the bed next to him.

 “It’s like you said,” he says gently, “you couldn’t have known. And there’s nothing you can do now, not while you’re still here.”

 Isaac frowns at him. “You can talk.”

 Gaon shuts his mouth.

 “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you couldn’t say Yohan’s name,” he says, “not that you’re still here too.”

 “Mrs. Ji and I take turns looking after the house,” Gaon says instead, “and I’m still working in Korea.”

 Isaac glares at him through his tears.

 “I keep in touch with them,” he continues, “I’ve called them so you can still see them before, you remember? I’m…I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy, but…”

 “…but I can’t stay here,” Isaac finishes, looking sadly at the floor.

 The room warms slowly as Isaac begins to fade.

 “Tell her she’s loved,” he murmurs, “won’t you? When she—when she gets scared, let her—please let her know she’s loved.”

 “I will,” Gaon promises.

 “And you must cook every warm meal you can for them. They don’t remember how. Take care of them, please.”

 “I will.”

 “And—“ Isaac reaches out and his hands almost brush Gaon’s shirt— “look after him too.”

 Wait, what?

 “He’s going to be alone now, and he’s still very scared, please, promise me you’ll look after him.”

 Isaac fades completely before Gaon can ask who he’s talking about.

 The third ghost is a memory.

 Rooms start to feel cold again, even if only for a moment. He thinks he catches glimpses of things moving and ignores them, only to frown when they still seem to hesitate. He leaves things open, purposefully sloppy until he can tell what this one might want.

 He finally gives when he notices a deck of cards spread out as if someone had shoved them to the floor in a panic.

 “Here,” he says softly, “will you play with me?”

 Without waiting for a firm answer, he begins to set the deck for Solitaire right there on the floor. He lays them out carefully and pats his knees.

 “You just gave to get all the cards organized in ascending order from Ace to King by suit,” he says softly, “and you can only move red on top of black in descending order on these piles.”

 He starts to move them slowly, patting his actions as he does. He feels a breeze beside him as he plays, occasionally asking if there’s a move he can make that he can’t see.

 They end up winning that game and a breeze ruffles through the cards as he picks them up.

 “Do you want to play again?” Another breeze across his shoulder. “Okay.”

 The suggestions come quicker and quicker each time they play.

 After a while of this, other things in the house start to move. A few of the books in the bookcase that press against the glass. Gaon leaves them out and spies a bookmark in one of them later. They read together one day, Gaon’s back to the study desk to give the ghost some privacy.

 He has a pretty good idea about what ghost this is, but enough of one to know that he can’t push this. Not at all.

 Gaon can’t deny the rush of warmth that goes through him whenever he sees little bits of evidence of the ghost’s preferences. One book is placed on top of another. The throw pillow is on one side of the couch. The curtains have been pushed aside. Protectiveness swells in him and he don’ts bother to stop it.

 His patience is rewarded when he walks into the study to see the cards laid carefully out for Solitaire and a dark-haired boy sitting behind them. The boy looks up. He’s tense, fear barely hidden behind an impassive mask.

 Gaon smiles and slowly crosses the room to sit beside him. “Why don’t you move the cards today?”

 They play several games. Some they win, some they don’t. But if Gaon sees a small smile on the boy’s face when they win another one, he’s counting that as his own win.

 When it gets too dark to see, they stop.

 The boy turns and looks up at him. “Are you going to leave now?”

 “Leave,” Gaon asks, swallowing the rush of hearing him speak for the first time, “what do you mean?”

 “Everyone else in this house left.” The boy shuffles and they both know he’s talking about the living and the dead. “So when will you leave?”

 Gaon swallows. “I’m going to stay with you, if you want, until you want to leave.”

 The boy looks at him, and oh, oh, that expression was developed young, it seems. Gaon huffs a laugh, and sure enough, the ghost’s hands have already begun to fade.

 “There’s no one left here,” the boy says as his voice starts to fade too, “you should leave. Why are you still here?”

 “No one should have to leave alone,” Gaon mumbles.

 The boy scoots a little closer to him. Gaon puts his arm out to lean against and they both enjoy the illusion of contact before the boy is gone.

 Gaon knows the answer. This is his role. He is left. He stays. He has work to do. His job isn’t finished. He is the one left behind along with the house of ghosts. Him and the memories of what once walked here.

 When he wakes the next morning, the house is warm and Gaon is cold, cold, cold.

 He makes the bed on autopilot. He eats because it’s a habit and he has to. He cleans away the cards and does up the curtains. He clears away every trace of the ghosts and his presence and slumps on the couch. He pulls the throw pillow into his lap and buries his face into it.

 He has become the ghost that haunts these halls.

 Part of him wants to conjure up another ghost from his memory to help him leave too.

 So he does. He buries his face as deeply as he can into the throw pillow and imagines Yohan walking into the room. He imagines him pausing, torn between bemusement and annoyance, then him sighing and leaning against the wall.

 Gaon-ah, he imagines him saying, what are you doing in my house?

 Gaon doesn’t want to imagine saying anything back. He doesn’t know what he’d say. Instead, he imagines him coming closer and standing in front of the couch,

 That’s a very plush handkerchief you’ve got there, he imagines him saying, I don’t think you’re going to fit it in your pocket to carry around with you.

 When he still doesn’t reply, he imagines Yohan sitting on the couch beside him, having it dip under his weight.

 What’s the matter, baby deer, and this isn’t real, so he can imagine Yohan being as soft and sweet and worried as he wants, why are you crying?

 This isn’t real, so he doesn’t have to be embarrassed about ranting about how he’s cold, he’s been left here to be cold on his own, he misses him, has he messed up enough for him to come back? He’s crying too hard but he imagines being coherent.

 He imagines Yohan reaching out slowly, almost timidly, resting his hand in the space between Gaon’s shoulder blades and rubbing small circles. He imagines it being warm, solid, real.

 But this isn’t real and it doesn’t matter.

 “What would you want, then, if this were real?”

 He wants Yohan to be here. He wants Yohan to hold onto him and not leave again because it’s cold here.

 “It’s difficult to hold you when you’re all wrapped around a pillow.”

 He wants that too. Wants stupid arguments over something unimportant where it doesn’t matter who wins.

 “Oh? Is that what you want? I’ll fight you over the pillow, it really is too big to be used as a tissue.”

 He imagines a soft tug on the pillow and clutches it tighter.

 “Give me the pillow.”

 He holds it tighter.

 “Come on, don’t be stubborn.”

 But Gaon has been stubborn his whole life and he’s certainly not about to stop now.

 “Alright, you asked for it.”

 A sharp tug suddenly dislodges the pillow from his grasp and he lets out a surprised yelp as it flies out of his hands, almost dragging him with it. He collapses in an ungainly heap against something that should be on the other end of the couch but isn’t.

 He looks up and—and—

 “Still so clumsy,” Yohan says, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “it’s just a pillow.”

 Gaon just stares. Stares because Kang Yohan is actually here, this is real, he’s real, he’s here, he—he—

 “You’re real?”

 If this were still the imaginary Yohan, he would laugh or smile and make some remark about Gaon being tired or confused. Instead, his expression softens and he squeezes Gaon’s hand.

 “Yes, Gaon-ah,” he says softly, “I’m real.”

 And now Gaon doesn’t understand why Yohan still sounds sweet and worried or why his clumsy fumblings end up with Yohan guiding his head to his shoulder and holding him.

 “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, careful and tender, “I’m not mad. You’re okay, you can cry. Just hold onto me.”

 Gaon clings to him and refuses to let go. Yohan just shifts until they can both lean against the back of the couch.

 Gaon still can’t believe he’s real.

 Yohan pauses when Gaon says that out loud, before letting out a sigh and carding his fingers through Gaon’s hair.

 “I’m real,” he says into Gaon’s head, “I’m right here. You’re holding onto me, we’re both on the couch. This is real, Gaon-ah, I’m here with you.”

 Gaon works his head into the crook of Yohan’s neck and presses his nose into the warmth.

 Yohan hisses. “You weren’t kidding about being cold, your nose is a piece of ice.”

 He tightens his grip.

 “Why are you so cold?”

 Gaon swallows. “There wasn’t anything to keep me warm.”

 Everyone who kept me warm left, he doesn’t say, but judging by the way Yohan’s hold tightens even more, it doesn’t need to be said.

 “You should take better care of yourself,” he scolds without any real heat, “baby deer are likely to freeze.”

 “So don’t leave.” Gaon shuffles closer. “Keep me warm.”

 “Brat.”

 But Yohan doesn’t move away. He tucks his head against Gaon’s and his breath warms the back of Gaon’s neck. His hands run warm up and down his back and Gaon melts into it.

 “Crying can be tiring for babies,” Yohan says softly after a while, “if you need to rest, you can.”

 “Don’t leave,” Gaon makes him promise, and he doesn’t. He curls himself around the ghosts and they breathe in the warmth.

inspiration for the summary taken from this post!

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villian-Sicle | Part 5

I feel like now would be a pertinent time to mention that this is my first attempt at writing a sort of drabble series. The majority of my work is 50k-100k word nerd ass novels, and I think that this part will make that unfortunately abundantly apparent. I’m sorry for just how long it is, but I’ve absolutely loved writing these characters, and I got a little bit carried away with fleshing out the world a bit more ^^

Also, I feel I should probably mention that, though characters in this story speak Latin, I do not know any Latin. I wrote this using dictionaries and very basic grammar guides, and I sincerely hope I did not mess up too bad.

Thank you for reading! It’s a long one, but I hope you’ll enjoy.

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, hypothermia, military setting (kinda), pet whump, dehumanization, past trauma, muzzles, restraints, conditioned whumpee, depiction of an implied panic attack, denial of water

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

Villain couldn’t help but shake and buck their head as a corrugation of metal and leather was slipped over their face, securing their jaw in its current position and forcing them to bite down against the pressure. It had been fitted since last time, they noted rather hollowly-- with a piece of padding now standing between the bridge of their noise and the harsh metal wires. Regardless of how many adjustments were made to the piece, however, making it comfortable seemed beyond their ability.

They, in this specific circumstance, referred mainly to the two soldiers before Villain. Trainer was the only one of the two that they knew the name of-- though they were nearly unrecognizable beneath the layers of gear shrouding their appearance.

The helmet they wore resembled more so that of a motorcyclist rather than that of an armed combatant, but the rest of their kit was far more military. Beneath their uniform bulged the clear outlines of a tac-vest, with their hands shielded by Kevlar gloves, constructed of an intricate mesh of triangular pieces, in a similar manner to chain-mail.

The other soldier was dressed in nearly identical kit, just without the gloves-- those were for handlers, which this other soldier must’ve surely not been. They turned to Trainer, noises in an odd language curling off their tongue. Trainer replied with a laugh.

With practiced hands, Trainer took the muzzle’s straps and secured them behind Villain’s head, tightening the metal until it dug into their skin, tearing at old sores created by the same device. Their leash was quickly hooked to a ring protruding from the muzzle’s wires.

“Manibus.” Trainer’s voice spoke. They nearly flinched at the sheer speed at which Villain offered their hands. Momentarily, Trainer ghosted their fingers over the leather mitten restraints that kept Villain’s fine motor abilities under control. They checked the wrist straps, ensuring their tautness, nodding their approval.

“Abeamus?” The other soldier suggested, to which Trainer gave another nod. They wrapped Villain’s leash around their wrist, halving its length, until there was negligible slack in the line.

Another group of soldiers, all dressed in military-style garments of their own, loitered together by the door to the staging room. They looked to Trainer, marginally straightening their postures, and, presumably, minimizing the amount of swearing in their speech.

With a few words and a flick of the wrist, the squadron was off.

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Leader couldn’t stop looking at Villain’s eyes.

They weren’t quite certain what had pulled them into such an odd trance. It was nothing about color, certainly, nor anything else physical or inherent-- they were unremarkable, in such respects. No, it was certainly something about the expression they portrayed.

A moment ago, they’d seen shattering fear turn to fury in these eyes. Now, they seemed blank, as though constructed of glass and merely painted upon. There was no expression beyond them, no recognition, no indication that Villain’s mind was occupied by anything at all. Their gaze stared straight through Leader, through the ceiling above as well.

Leader was torn from their daze by a commotion from behind them as the door was thrown open. Medic was nearly knocked over as Hero burst in, followed more ploddingly by Counselor.

“Be careful.” Leader warned, looking up and turning to the group. “There’s broken shit everywhere.”

Hero’s eyes darted around the room, seemingly taking in the mess. Broken glass coated the tile floor in a thin dusting of shards, while various mechanical parts still smoked in whatever place they had happened to end up. The lights had been blown out completely, leaving the lighting in the room to be provided by a flashlight laid on a countertop, as well as, now, the light soaking in from the hallway.

After their panicked scan, Hero settled their gaze on Villain.

“Are they...”

“They’re fine.” Medic interrupted.

“They’re not moving.”

“Well... I’m going to hazard to say that that’s a good thing. If I had to guess, it seems like a shock response. It’s not exactly my biggest concern, right about now.”

“What about the, uh, bleeding hole in their chest?”

“That would be my biggest concern.”

Medic grabbed a variety of, miraculously undamaged, medical supplies from a cupboard, setting to work at Villain’s wound. It was small, deliberate, having been incised to be used as an access point for the dialysis machine, but Leader had a feeling that even minor blood loss could be a death sentence, at this point.

Hero and Counselor hovered, for a moment, at Villain’s bedside, while Medic did their work. Leader stood back, nearly having to forcibly tear their gaze from that of Villain.

That odd sort of silence remained for several moments, if not minutes, as Medic’s deft hands worked to close the wound. It was only when the last suture was tied that Counselor spoke up-- one of the only times they had done so for the whole mission.

“Leader?”

“Hm?”

“What’s our plan, exactly? What are our orders?”

They raised a brow. Counselor was never that direct-- nor that military.

“Um...” It felt quite stupid, being caught unprepared like this, but in their defense, they had nearly just been killed by an exploding air conditioner. “I... I don’t want to hazard doing anything until Villain is stable.”

“That was your plan before.” Medic muttered as they pried latex gloves from their hands. “It almost got us killed.”

“Right. Yeah, um, are they stable enough? For transport?”

“They’re not going to bleed out, if that’s your concern. Physically, I’d say they’re stable. Mentally? I think we need to get them to a secure location before they snap out of this fugue state.”

“Alright.” Leader chewed their tongue. “Let’s get the van ready, then.”

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The ship’s deck was notably busy, despite the fact that it was relatively late at night. The vessel’s skeleton crew hurried about, keeping it afloat and on track, while outdated Humvees drove in chaotic paths. What the commotion was about was beyond Villain’s knowledge, or their capacity to care. All that mattered was fighting their instinct to cover their ears, and ensuring that they were keeping up with Trainer.

They could feel it-- the boat-- beneath them. The millions of systems and circuits and electrons, thrumming and being jolted about by a swaying sea.

The small company that Trainer had gathered made their way to the far end of the deck, where a VTOL plane was already humming, waiting for its crew to board. They did so, clustering themselves into the compact cabin. There was, notably, no room the vessel for a pilot-- all steering operations would be handled by an artificial intelligence of sorts. Villain greeted the computer program, but it did not respond.

Trainer settled themself into a middle seat at the front of the cabin. Villain sat obediently at their side, at which point their leash was secured to a handrail sticking out of the wall. They rested their head against the window. Though the cabin was crowded, at the very least, Villain was no longer forced to make the trip in the K9 compartment.

Once every member of the company was settled and seated, the VTOL’s doors slid shut, and the engine thwapp-thwapp-thwapped until the aircraft was off the ground. It shot upwards for a second, traveling several hundred feet in the time, before entering a linear dive and settling for a position around fifty feet above the choppy waters.

Villain closed their eyes, allowing their mind to wander to the creature around them. The VTOL contained what was likely the most complex computer program that the Organization had. Despite all its bells and whistles, however, it paid no mind to Villain’s prodding and wandering.

The plane’s route was not awfully complex. The vehicle was designed, surtout, for water-based travel. Though it could move over land, it struggled to rise above three hundred or so feet, making it useless for far-inland routes. Wherever it was going today was, luckily, on the coast-- somewhere in the forests of Washington state.

If they so wished, Villain could alter the route in any way they so pleased. They could send the aircraft into the ocean below, or back into the ship, or into the first land they saw. It would be simple-- all their problems gone in a moment.

Once the plane’s angle had leveled out, Trainer stood, moving to the front of the plane. Villain gnashed their teeth, attempting to rise from their seat, but finding themself limited by the taut leather line on their muzzle. They were too far, they were on mission, they shouldn’t have been so far, come on, come on. The leash refused to give way, however, leaving them firmly affixed in position.

Trainer cleared their throat, drawing the attention of the gathered company. They began to speak, words taking on quite a commanding air, though Villain only understand a few choice phrases.

“Incursus” was the one that made them prick their ears. They had heard it only a few times before. In conversation, once or twice, but more notably during mission briefings. The last time they had heard it... several missions ago, before they had been briefly confined to the medical wing.

The word itself was meaningless-- its implications less so.

Villain gulped, their jaw straining against the wires of their muzzle.

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Leader walked at the side of the gurney, ghosting a hand over one of the siderails all the while. A pair of doctors pushed the gurney itself, with Medic trailing close behind, and Hero and Counselor at their sides.

In contrast with the upper floors, the hospital’s lobby floor was brightly lit, almost overwhelmingly so, with expanses of floor-to-ceiling windows. The beige carpeting was bathed with the last remnants of sunrise orange-- it had been a long night.

The few patients in the hospital at such as hour were hurried out of the way as the gurney moved through. A scattering of nurses and varied hospital personnel were littered about, watching the Heroes’ procession, but staying several yards away, unwilling to even be in Villain’s vicinity.

Leader looked down at the gurney. A blanket had been draped over Villain, working to keep them at a stable temperature. Their fabric and webbing restraints had been replaced by those made of metal.

Their eyes were open. They had been the whole time. Despite, they had yet to struggle in any form.

The automatic doors at the front of the lobby rumbled open, allowing the gurney to be pushed through. A team of doctors and Leader’s own personnel stood outside, gathered around an ambulance with its back doors hanging open. The doctors pushing the gurney passed it off to some of the stronger personnel, who lifted the contraption into the vehicle’s back, securing it.

Leader nodded their thanks, and moved to get behind the vehicle’s wheel.

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The ship hadn’t been too far off of the East coast to begin with, making the trip to Washington a relatively short one. It took one hour, thirty-six minutes, and eighty-two seconds, to be exact-- far more amicable than the 16-hour trips they had endured in the past.

The VTOL had made a measured descent into a forest clearing, shredding the grass below with its landing gear. With the doors open, the company had scrambled out; Trainer taking Villain’s leash in hand once more.

In the clearing, there had been no sign of life besides a scurrying songbird or two. Villain had only then realized a far more unpleasant aspect of the mission.

They were going to be marching.

Not marching, exactly, they supposed. There was no regimented order to it, it was more like hiking. Just... hiking for hours. The VTOL couldn’t go too far inland, and landing it close to a target was often impossible.

So, they marched.

Sometimes, heaven would be merciful, and the trek would be short, of only a mile or so. On crueler days, though, they would move for hours-- breaking only for water, which Villain would watch the soldiers drink with a parched throat.

Even just from the look of the clearing, and its location, however, Villain had been able to tell that today was not one of those more merciful occasions.

When the plane had landed, the moon at been at its highest point--signifying that midnight had struck. For the first few hours, they walked in darkness, until dawn slowly began to creep up.

All in all, the trek had taken four hours, most of which were spent walking. By the time the group stopped and crouched down, Villain felt their legs were about to snap. It had been far too many hours and far too many miles since they had cared to look at their surroundings. All that mattered was Trainer, and staying awake.

The company made themselves small among an area of heavy undergrowth. Trainer let Villain’s leash loosely hang around their wrist. Even if the technopath had any desire to flee, they doubted they could even get their legs back under them.

One of the soldiers spoke up, somehow sounding hardly winded. Though most of their words served as nonsense to Villain’s ears, one did stick out: Scopum. It was one of the words Trainer had used, back when they were teaching Villain how to search and retrieve objects.

Trainer nodded, took a drink of water from a canteen, and got to their knees. They pointed to something behind the bushes-- Villain got on their knees to look at well.

Over the wall of undergrowth, a building could be seen. It wasn’t particularly notable-- it would be best described as a cabin, with rustic architecture and an array of out-of-season Christmas lights. It seemed to be a vacation home of sorts; large enough to fit a family, certainly, but not a place anyone would live permanently.

Was this their Scopum? Their goal?

Trainer took hold again of Villain’s leash and stood. The real mission was just about to begin, and Villain could hardly stand.

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The drive from the hospital to their base was longer than Leader would have preferred, enough to make them nervously request updates every few minutes, much to Medic’s distaste.

The base stood at the edge of one of Washington’s denser forests, about half an hour out from the city proper. The location provided security, and in their group’s early days, secrecy, but it made transport difficult.

“Hey, Medic?” Leader started.

“Villain is fine. They’re still out of it. Cabin temperature is staying steady at 70, their body temperature is just about where it should be. Keep your damn eyes on the road.”

Leader nodded, biting the inside of their cheek. City traffic had been left behind a few miles ago, leaving only empty back roads. Seven minutes to go, the GPS diligently reported.

“We’re close now, then.” Medic spoke, starting the conversation for once. They weren’t usually the one to do such a thing, but Hero and Counselor were in the ambulance’s back. “What are you thinking?”

“Thinking?”

“Your plans. Please don’t forget that you’re the leader around here, you give the orders. What do we do, when we get back to base?”

Leader bit their tongue to prevent themself from snapping at that passive insult. They were glad for the change in topic, at least.

“Our first priority is keeping ourselves safe. Villain’s safety is second priority-- I’m not sacrificing anything to keep their wellbeing. But I wouldn’t consider them a threat, right now. I assume you would like to keep them in the med bay?”

“For now, at least. They’re stable, but the fact that they’re still breathing is a miracle. I want to have my equipment nearby if they crash.”

“As long as it’s safe, then.”

“And then what?”

“Then... they’re still a prisoner, injured or not. Then we put them in the cells.”

“We don’t have any cells?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

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The company moved swiftly, forcing Villain’s legs to wake up to the horrible feeling of pins and needles. Trainer remained at the group’s head, leading them forth to the cabin.

It must have looked quite ridiculous, to an outsider. Villain would have laughed if they were able.

The group stopped before the quaint structure.

“Aperire.” Trainer ordered. Villain gnashed their teeth.

The command was a simple one, generally. It meant that they were to open something-- usually a door, or a box, or an encrypted device. The wooden door before them, however, had no electric component; it didn’t even seem to have a lock at all.

Still, they dove into the few electronics that the building did host. The Christmas lights seemed to be meaningless noise-- they tore through those, searching instead through the inner electronics. They were uncomplicated, so much so that their purpose couldn’t be so much as guessed.

Villain panicked, gnashing their teeth, shaking their head against the muzzle. They didn’t know what to do. They could feel their heartbeat, pounding in their head, throbbing.

“Aperire.” Trainer repeated. It only increased Villain’s heartrate-- what were hey doing wrong? Please, what were they doing wrong? They dove back into the systems. There was no door to be seen, just the lights, just some random system. They decided on the latter, tripping the system, just as they drew blood from biting down on their own tongue.

The house rumbled.

Instead of opening as a door should, the rustic home’s door slid into the wall, revealing a brightly-lit interior-- devoid of both furniture and interest.

The only point of interest was at the very center of the floor: A ramp, leading downwards.

Villain gulped. With rougher hands than before, Trainer yanked at their leash, forcing them forth. Together, the two descended, the company right on their heels.

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The base-- it had no real name, it was simply “the base”-- was an uncomplicated corrugation of concrete walls and sparse entranceways. It had been constructed as the shell of a factory, years ago, a factory which eventually fell through. Since then, Leader had organized quite a renovation of the property.

They drove the ambulance to the base’s parking lot, backing up to the curb as near to the entrance as they could.

“You worried?” Medic asked.

“Mhm.” Leader nodded, hopping out of the cockpit and to the asphalt below. The ambulance’s rear doors had already been swung open, with Hero and Counselor working to guide the gurney from it.

Villain still laid on the bed, shrouded with blankets, nearly comatose.

Their eyes moved.

Leader did a double-take, looking back to the figure on the gurney. Villain’s gaze had moved, now directing itself straight at Leader. Whatever expression they were portraying... it looked like fear.

Leader frowned. They moved to the transport bed’s side, placing their hands on the rails.

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The ramp descended at least a story into the earth.

With every step they took, Villain could feel their mind become more and more cluttered. At first, they could only hear the simple lighting and ventilation systems, but as they grew deeper, more noises joined the cacophony. Computers and servers, medical equipment and weaponry, it all blended together, all humming, all whirring, all chanting until it made Villain’s head hurt.

At the base of the ramp, which they only reached after what felt like an eternity, stood a simple door. Nothing more than a steel barrier.

“Perdere.”

That command was about as simple as they came. Within a split second, the door, and half of the wall, before Villain had been decimated to rubble.

On the other side of the newly-torn door, a figure moved. Villain flinched, gnawing again on their bloodied tongue. Trainer forced them forward.

The room was empty, devoid, as the past one had been. There was no furniture, no weaponry, no defense. Only a person, standing squarely before the door at the far end.

Their wings brushed the room’s walls.

Leader glared.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

As they leaned over Villain’s bedside, Leader smiled-- an expression as gentle as they could make it. They weren’t sure what had suddenly turned them so soft. Pity, maybe? Somehow, though, it tugged at them in the same way as nostalgia.

They brushed a hand over Villain’s shoulder.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay.”

The next part was the stupid one. The soft one, the one that would have made anyone in any faction laugh. One that, if anyone had heard it, Leader surely never would have lived down. Even they were not sure why they spoke it.

Five simple words. Five words without meaning.

“Welcome to your new home.”

[lamyerda]

And There Was Only One...Pillow? | Rated M | 952 words | AU - University, Roommates, Flirting, Sexual Tension | From Twitter Request

Jeno’s new roommate Renjun moves in. The air conditioning breaks. Someone is shirtless. And there’s only one bed.

Jeno slammed the freezer door closed. He held an ice cube directly in his fingers, touching it to his neck, just below his jaw, before spiralling it down his neck. He dipped between his collarbones, water pooling in the hollow there, and continued down to his chest, leaving a cool trail across both sides of his pectoral muscles.

The late summer day was hot. It was hot enough that he needed cooling down. The broken air conditioner perched in the living room window was no help. He considered sliding the ice around his nipples too, but then he noticed his new roommate standing in the doorway.

The ice cube slipped from his fingers, crashing to the linoleum floor where it shattered into fragments. Jeno bent over, busying himself with gathering the pieces, so he wouldn’t have to look at Renjun. He liked looking at Renjun. But not while he was shirtless, in the kitchen, running ice over his body. This was just embarrassing.

He’d already embarrassed himself enough, in the week since Renjun moved in. Forgetting his underwear on the washroom floor — twice, singing How Far I’ll Go from Moana when he thought he was home alone, and now this. Renjun probably thought he was a weirdo.

It didn’t help that they had nothing in common. He was muddling through a generic business degree that he hated, while Renjun studied art and even had some of his work highly visible in a mural on campus. He had a tennis scholarship, while Renjun had no interest in sports whatsoever. He stayed in his room at night playing games on his computer, while Renjun went out a lot and wore very little.

They didn’t speak much. But that was mostly due to Jeno being a recluse. He was shy with strangers. If his regular roommate Jaemin hadn’t decided to sublet his room, to spend the year studying abroad in Peru, he and Renjun would never have met. Jeno was sure of that.

“It’s hot,” Renjun said.

“Yeah, the air conditioner broke.”

“What? You’re kidding?”

“No, I mean, it was used when Jaemin bought it last summer, so it was already old.”

Renjun sighed, dramatically. “I moved in here because there was air con.”

Jeno stood up and tossed the broken ice into the sink. It wasn’t his fault that the damn thing broke. What did Renjun expect him to do?

“We have to get it fixed. Or buy a new one.”

“With what money?” Jeno snorted. He was on a budget. His only income was from his part time job at the juice shop on campus.

“Don’t you have a credit card?”

“Yeah, but it’s for emergencies only. And why are we talking about spending my money?”

“It’s your apartment. I just sublet.”

“I’ll get it fixed when I get paid on Friday. Relax.”

“I can’t,” Renjun snapped. “It’s too hot to relax.”

“What’s the big deal? You’re out every night anyway.”

“I’m not out every night. I just…my bed hasn’t been delivered yet. So I’ve been staying with my friend Jisung. His dorm has bunk beds and his roommate didn’t arrive until yesterday.”

“Why don’t you just sleep here? On the sofa.”

Renjun’s pretty little face scrunched up.

Oops.

Jeno had made up his mind not to get distracted by how pretty Renjun was. They were roommates. He didn’t want to make things even more awkward between them.

“Have you slept on that sofa?” Renjun asked.

“No.”

The sofa was also Jaemin’s. Something he’d picked up from the alley between their apartment building and a frat house. It was small but poufy, barely long enough to seat two people, and sitting on it felt like you were being sucked into a warp tunnel filled with barbed wire. He was pretty sure the springs inside were rusted.

“It smells like beer and jizz. I don’t know how you straight guys live like this.”

“I’m not straight,” Jeno blurted.

Renjun’s eyes widened, but just for a moment. “Oh, sorry. But my comment still stands.”

“I don’t drink beer. Or…jizz on the sofa,” Jeno said. “It’s Jaemin’s, actually. I think he got it from the frat house.”

“You should buy a new sofa.”

“Sure, I’ll get right on that. Anything else I can do for your majesty?”

“Your majesty? I have royal standards for not wanting to sleep on something that’s held together with duct tape and sperm?”

“Ew!” Jeno laughed. “Okay, I get it. The sofa is gross.”

He had another idea, but he wasn’t sure how it would go over.

“I guess you could sleep in my bed.”

Renjun wrinkled his nose. “Don’t tell me you’re going sleep on that disgusting sofa.”

“No.” Jeno rubbed his left ear. It was warm and probably red. “We could share the bed.”

Renjun’s mouth opened, in what Jeno assumed was protest.

“It’s queen sized, so there’s space. I could even pull it out to the living room and we can sleep with the balcony door open.”

“But you only have one pillow,” Renjun said.

“I…wait…how do you know that?” Jeno asked.

“I saw your room when Jaemin showed me the place.”

“And you remembered how many pillows are on my bed?”

Renjun shrugged. “I have a photographic memory I guess.”  

“You must ace all your exams.”

Renjun smiled. “It only applies to hot guys.”

Jeno grinned. “Me?”

“Please. You know you’re hot. Standing here, topless, icing your tits.”

“I’m so embarrassed you saw that,” Jeno chuckled.

“Don’t be. Like I said…it’s hot. Now why don’t you prepare the bed. I’m going to change into something less…stifling.”

Jeno changed his mind. He very much wanted to get distracted by his pretty roommate.

[octanesimp3000]

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #5

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/79792999

Summary:

With the plan successfully executed, now all you and Octavio would have to do was play the role of a happy couple. But you were beginning to realize that there was still a lot to Octavio that you didn't know about. 

Credit for the idea that Octane has a plush bunny goes to @kryzo-stimz!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

————————————————————————–

Unfortunately, your squad was not crowned as the Champions this time around. You’d managed to get to the Top 3 before being sandwiched between the final two squads and getting knocked out by a Kraber. 

There was some good news however. While you were not the champions of this round of the Apex Games, you and Octavio were certainly the champions of the audiences’ hearts. Social media exploded after your public kiss on screen with post after post of the clip being shared with the hashtags #SuperSpeedLove and #KissedByTheDaredevil. 

Most people seemed excited that there was romance happening in the Apex Games, thinking that this would up the ante on the battlefield, or they just thought that the confession was cute and were in support of the relationship. Some so-called Octane super fans however had resorted to sending you direct messages on your social media accounts, telling you some not-so-kind things about what they’d do to you if they ever saw you in person. 

As you scrolled through several of these posts that your fans had tagged you in on your social media feed, you couldn’t help but think that the person who had placed the cameras was somewhat of a genius. Since Octavio’s face was still being kept a secret from the public, the camera had been positioned so his face was just out of view and yet, there was no mistaking that you two had shared an oh so loving kiss. 

Although it had only been three days since the previous game, you’d already started to notice the changes that your new ‘relationship’ brought to how you were treated. Earlier in the day, you had been notified about an interview you were to attend later that week but instead of it just being you on your own like you were used to, Octavio had been invited to attend the interview as well. Presumably, the journalists were going to ask you two questions about your relationship which you were not ready for. 

Your relationship dynamic with Octavio had taken quite a change as well. When the other Legends saw you around the dropship now, they fully expected to see Octavio with you as if you two came as a pair and you both didn’t have lives of your own outside of each other. Octavio had also taken to affectionately calling you his little bunny, you weren’t exactly sure why he did it but you thought it was pretty cute so you had allowed him to continue with it without question. 

Not only that, but when you did hang out with Octavio, you two would hold hands or even cuddle if you were hanging out in the common area. The PDA was obviously just an act to convince the other Legends that nothing fishy was going on but you were really starting to enjoy it. You would never openly admit it to Octavio however, it would just make things awkward. 

The first week after a game was always the most peaceful and you were enjoying this moment of serenity in your bed with your laptop perched on your lap when you heard a knock on your door. You moved the laptop onto the bed and stood up to open the door, surprised when you found Octavio with his hair dyed green yet again standing there with his arms laden with all of his computer gear and video game consoles. “Can I help you?,” you asked. 

“Need to put these down pronto. Can you let me in, please?,” you heard Octavio say quickly from behind the mountain of computer parts. You moved aside to let Octavio into your dormitory where he proceeded to dump all of his things onto the carpeted floor, releasing a loud sigh of relief. Before you could ask what he thought he was doing, Octavio got to his feet again and said “I’ll be right back!” before running out the door. 

Octavio made multiple trips to and from his room to your dormitory, each time carrying in more of his personal belongings and leaving them on your floor or on your bed. Finally when you could handle the suspense no longer, you finally grabbed Octavio by the shoulders before he could run off again for the sixth time and asked “Why are you bringing your stuff into my room? Just cause we’re fake dating doesn’t mean we have to live together too, or did the Syndicate add another clause to our agreement that I missed?” 

“No, no! The air conditioner in my room is leaking so I had to find somewhere safe for all my stuff. I couldn’t just leave them there,” Octavio groaned, running his fingers through his hair as he gazed at all of his belongings that were now scattered throughout your dormitory. He hesitated before asking pleadingly “Can I please stay the night here? As soon as the leak is fixed and I can move my stuff back there, I’ll be outta here!”

You didn’t exactly want to share a room with Octavio but you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. You considered suggesting that he camp out on the couches in the common area but you knew that it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep even for someone who survived mostly on energy drinks and rarely slept like Octavio. After a few moment’s hesitation, you sighed and said “I suppose you could.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you,” Octavio exclaimed in delight as he pulled you into a tight hug before dashing back out to collect the final things from his room. Ten minutes later, your usually neat desk was cluttered with wires and computer parts as Octavio busied himself with putting it all back together. Apparently he’d had to take it apart to check that nothing had gotten drenched in the water leaking from the air conditioner. 

You sat on the bed, silently watching him at work before deciding to turn your attention to the things Octavio had left on your bed. There were a few superhero comic books whose pages looked well-read, a handheld video game console, a few cans of limited edition energy drinks named ‘Speedy Devil’ after Octavio himself and finally, a medium-sized white plush rabbit. You couldn’t help but smile as you picked the stuffed rabbit up and turned to Octavio, saying “I didn’t take you as someone who collected plush toys.” 

His cheeks flushed a deep red and Octavio made a grab for the rabbit but missed as you’d twisted away from him, holding the toy tightly to your chest. “Give it back!,” Octavio shouted as he leaped onto you without a second thought, trying his hardest to tug the rabbit away from your grip. You began to feel your heart racing uncomfortably as it had back in that building in World’s Edge as you lay pinned underneath Octavio and quickly released your tight grip on the plush rabbit so he could take it away from you easily. 

Octavio clambered off the bed and frowned down at you for a moment before sitting back down at the desk and silently going back to work on his computer, with the plush rabbit placed on his lap. You pushed yourself back up into a sitting position and once you were sure your heart had stopped racing like you’d just ran a marathon, said apologetically “I’m sorry, Octavio. I was only teasing you. I think it’s sweet that you’ve got a plush rabbit, I’ve got a few of my own too.”

Silence followed your words. You were beginning to worry that you’d somehow upset him again when Octavio suddenly said without looking away from the circuit board he was fiddling with  “I used to have a pet rabbit named Navi. He used to sit in my jacket pocket and we’d do all sorts of fun stuff together but he died when his rocket crashed into this planet in outer space. I got this plush rabbit cause it kinda reminds me of him and it makes me feel, I don’t know, happy?” 

He’d completely lost you at the part where apparently his pet rabbit had died while piloting a rocket which crashed into a planet. Surely that didn’t really happen? You knew it wasn’t the right time to ask about it though so you gently placed a hand on Octavio’s shoulder and said with a smile “I’m sure Navi would be glad that you’ve got that little guy there watching over you while he’s out exploring the galaxy.” 

Octavio turned to you with a smile, saying “Navi didn’t really like too many people other than me but I think Navi would have liked you a lot so I guess you can hold his plush counterpart.” He handed you the plush rabbit which you took gratefully, glad that the air was cleared between the two of you again. You placed the plush rabbit on your lap as you leaned back against the backboard of your bed, scrolling through your phone and occasionally showing some memes you found funny to Octavio who upon finally finishing setting up his computer had loaded up a racing game. You began to feel at peace with him by your side - a feeling you felt you could get used to. 

[honeytea8]

“Mister Fix-it” - Josuke/gn!Reader

A/N: Something I posted a while back on AO3 and now I’m dumping it here, I edited it to be gender neutral, pls let me know if I missed anything, enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When your brand new air conditioning system doesn’t live up to the hype, you’re left with no other choice but to call Josuke Higashikata, the neighborhood handy-man and Morioh’s local heartthrob. (Post-canon; Josuke is 19/Reader is 23ish)

There is not a single ‘moderate’ thing about the summers in Morioh Cho and you come to this shocking discovery during your very first year back in this crazy, noisy town.

One early morning, a wave of heat sweeps in like a thief in the night, creeping over your body and making your nightshirt cling to you like second skin. A relentless force of nature that saps any residual moisture in the air. Everything is left high and dry—you lament over your dying succulent.

You can’t count how many cups of ice water you’ve guzzled or how many cold showers you’ve taken just to end up sweaty again, but something’s got to give. The day after Kai Harada announces the possibility of record-breaking temperatures in the following weeks, you delve into your emergency savings for a solution only money can buy.

Two days later, a portly electrician comes and installs a new air conditioning system for your home. He’s yammering on about how it’s supposed to be the best on the market. State of the art and all that jazz. You don’t really care for the details; you just want to be comfortable in your own house lest you end up a melted pile of goo. Who the hell would take care of your vegetable garden then?

You inspect the newly installed system with subdued interest. Truthfully, it doesn’t look like anything but an eyesore that’s completely thrown off the ambiance of the entire living room. It’s practically hanging out of your window. However, the only thing keeping you from complaining about its appearance is the dusty fan overhead that’s been circulating the same muggy, warm air for over an hour now. You prefer functionality over appearance, screw feng shui, you needed this AC.

“So, you’re positive it'll cool down the entire house?” you question one final time.

As if to prove his point, the electrician flicks a switch and the machine attached to the wall comes to life. The droning hum is annoying and would take some getting used to but it’s blowing the coldest air you’ve felt in a while. Both you and the electrician remain standing in front of it for a few seconds, basking in wonder.

Like magic, the heat-induced stress and tension leave your body all at once.

“Well then,” you say with a smile, “It’ll do.”

One week. Seven days. A hundred-and-sixty-eight hours of pure, absolute, uninterrupted bliss. You are in heaven! Your plants are flourishing as usual, and you aren’t sweating profusely like a pig for slaughter. Life is oh so good.

Until you wake up on the eighth day at four am with the worst case of cotton-mouth you’ve ever experienced.

You tumble out of bed, delirious from the sudden onslaught of heat that has transformed your bedroom into a sauna. Loose cotton sheets tangle with your ankles and you hit the ground, chin scuffing against the floor in your haste. The adrenaline pumping through your veins keeps you from wincing, or even feeling the pain. All you can hear is the sound of your own two feet pounding on the polished wooden staircase.

“Please, no, no, no, no—“

You sweep into the living room only to find the new air system is completely silent and no amount of switch-flicking or button-punching is going to change that. Mouth screwing into a scowl, you glare at the overpriced piece of junk with unbridled disdain.

This has become personal.

A hard smack from the palm of your hand to the surface of the machine echoes through the room—still nothing, not even a stirring. 

Big fat tears well up in your eyes. Whatever hormones fueling your rage are now flooding you with sadness. Your hand and chin are throbbing from the pain. The money spent on this crap was gone and now you’d have to shell out another hefty amount just to get it fixed. You want to pull out your hair in frustration.

Glancing around the room, everything is so still and calm. It’s still quite early in the morning, a few hours before dawn and you are tired as hell. The heat is making you lethargic, so after drying your tears and chewing on some ice cubes, you curl up on your sofa and go back to a fitful sleep.

.

.

.

Later in the day, you’re hanging clothes out on the line when your neighbor comes out to greet you.

She’s a grandma who lives alone except for when her grand kids come to visit, and despite her penchant for being a nosy gossip, you kind of like her. She waves and meanders over to the edge of her fence. 

“This is some heat, I tell you.”

“Right! I didn’t realize Morioh could even get this hot,” you pick up another sheet and toss it over the wire. “Would you believe that I spent two paychecks on an air conditioner that doesn’t even work.”

Your neighbor gives you a look of pity. “Oh dear, such a shame.” You watch as she adjusts the chairs and tables around her patio.

“You know, I have a teacher-friend with a son who has a knack for fixing things. Had him take a look at my plumbing a few weeks ago and he had it working right as rain. I can ask him to come by and take a look at it for you.”

You shuffle the empty bamboo basket in your arms. “I...guess that could work. Have him drop by sometime.” 

What’s the worst that could happen?

Two days later, you’re tending to your many plants—because you’d be damned if another died because of this heat—when a Greek god falls from the sky and onto your doorstep.

“Hi! I’m Josuke Higashikata, your neighbor said you had a problem with your air conditioner.”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement: the young man standing on your porch is a damn stunner. His pouty lips, broad shoulders, and slim waist are more than enough to fuel a wet dream or two. Your brain short-circuits for a solid minute. Is it hot in here or what?

(And for once, you aren’t talking about the actual weather.)

He shifts nervously from one foot to another when you don’t immediately respond, but all you can do is stare. You’re thirsty for more than just a drink of water right now.

“Um,” he looks down at the sticky note in his hand and mumbles to himself. “This is the address, right?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. You internally berate yourself for looking like a gaping idiot in front of this knockout.

“YES! Ahem—yeah, y-you’re at the right place.” you move aside and allow him in. And good Lord, he’s tall. You wouldn't mind climbing that beanstalk.

Josuke is dressed in a striped yellow tee and pair of boardshorts that fit just right, a real sight for sore eyes.

You try not to swoon and realize rather belatedly that your own attire isn’t hiding much from view. Since the air conditioner stopped working, you reverted back to wearing tank tops and shorts around the house. Josuke, for what it's worth, isn't ogling you but he’s obviously noticed if his reddened cheeks are anything to go by.

“Right over here.” You say breezily.

The sway in your hips is subtle enough that it doesn’t look intentional. You guide him over to where the AC is sitting in the wall like a heap of scrap metal. Josuke didn’t bring any tools with him, so you’re skeptical about how he plans on fixing it. Honestly, even if he can't, you plan on making the most out of this.

You enter the kitchen adjacent to the living room, allowing him to take a look at the thing without you hovering.

As you’re straightening out the dining table, you ask, “So, how old are you, Josuke? You look a little young to be a handy-man.”

There’s a pause in his movements. “I just turned nineteen!”

Your fantasy dies a swift death somewhere deep within the dredges of your subconscious. Of course he’s young, as if you hadn’t noticed. Dialing back on the flirtation, you hum out an ‘oh cool’. The last thing you want to be is a cradle robber!

You aren’t that much older than him...but it still feels a bit wrong? You’ve never been with a younger guy before.

A startling hum resounds throughout the house and you feel a gust of cool air coming from overhead. Josuke has managed to fix it! You rush back into the room just in time to catch him stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“All done!”

“That—That was really quick? What was wrong with it?”

Josuke only shrugged. “Not sure, but it seems to be working now.”

You stare uncomprehendingly.

“So...was there anything else you’d like me to fix?”

Blinking you look around for something but come up short. “No, not unless you can bring plants back to life.”

Now it’s Josuke’s turn to blink as he takes a look around with wide eyes. He hadn’t noticed all the plants in the various corners of your home, he had been too distracted by—

“Which ones?” He says before he can stop himself.

You point to the succulent perched on the coffee table, it’s dried up and brittle in some parts, but it’s not completely dead. He kneels down to its height, touches some of its chubby petals. Then he silently calls on Crazy Diamond and with a single touch, it’s restored back to its normal health.

A few years post-Yoshikage Kira, Josuke has gotten a lot better with his powers, utilizing his stand with ease. He turns and gives you a smile and has no idea he’s giving you heart palpitations just by looking like that.

“Woah! Josuke, what the hell was that?”

“Ahh, it’s hard to explain. Just know it’s something I’ve been able to do since I was a kid.”

“Wow, th-that’s some trick,” you glance at your plant in shock. It’s literally back to normal. You recall all the time spent nurturing it, along with your other plants. All the sweat doled out during back-breaking gardening. How could you ever repay him for making sure your hard work didn’t go down the drain?

Before you know it, you have his face in your hands and you don’t know what the hell you're doing but you're holding him and staring tearfully.

“Thank you times a million. Seriously.”

Josuke just gulps and nods. “Uh huh, not a problem.”

You really try to ignore the way he’s staring at your lips or the heavy blush on his cheeks because, again, you are not robbing the cradle. With more self-control than you knew you had, you let go of his face and step back.

“S-So would you like some tea, or lemonade or—“

“Lemonade,” he says as he stands to his full height. “Lemonade is fine.”

You nod with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He is so cute. You scamper off into the kitchen and pull out a full pitcher of homemade lemonade. Meanwhile, Josuke is left to take a look around your house.

There are plants everywhere, most are leafy, green, and healthy. The ones that aren’t, get a boost from his stand power.

Josuke wants to compare your home to a jungle or the Amazon, but that’s not quite an accurate comparison. Even though there’s clearly a lot going on, it’s not cluttered or disorganized at all. It’s just...really freaking amazing! There’s even a flourishing terrarium built in the walls near the staircase.

With your obvious love for nature, Josuke thinks you’d get along great with Mr. Jotaro, but for some reason he doesn’t feel too inclined to introduce you two.

When you finally return, you catch Josuke eyeing your little turtle tank with a weird look.

“That’s Kame, I just got him a month ago.”

Josuke laughs, “Kame, huh? That’s pretty clever.”

“I thought so too,” you hand him the cold drink and as he takes it, his fingers graze yours. “He doesn’t do much, so if you’re expecting him to do a trick, you’ll be waiting a while.”

“Oh nah, it wasn’t that. I’m just…kind of afraid of the little guy.”

Biting back the urge to say ‘awww’, you usher him over to the engawa overlooking your vegetable garden. “A fear of turtles is understandable. But would you believe that I used to be afraid of fish?”

“Fish? No, I can’t say I would. But I also wouldn’t judge.”

You smile at that because of course, he wouldn’t judge you. “Yup, had a bad experience when I was five. My father used to live in Morioh, near the coast. He was a fisherman,” you pause, momentarily distracted by the bob of his adam’s apple as he takes his first sip.

“H-He umm, took me fishing once... and it was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on a real fish. Needless to say, I screamed my head off.”

“No! Seriously?” Josuke chuckles and it’s so contagious and addicting. Soon you're laughing too.

“I swear, I cannot make this up!”

“So, what happened?”

“Okay, so I’m screaming like a mad person and running away. You know what my dad does? That asshole chases me with the thing still dangling from his fishing rod.” You shake your head at the memory. “I literally got sick and threw up that night, and boy did my mom chew him out for it.”

“That sounds so hilarious and yet so traumatic.” He laughs again. “That’s terrible!”

“Right! I could never look at a fish after that or even be around them. It took years before I finally got over it.” You sigh and shake your head again.

Silence ebbs between you for a moment before Josuke clears his throat. 

“So, this might seem a bit forward, but would you like to go on a date with me?”

The question doesn’t register in your head all at once, leaving you to stumble over your words until you can finally think coherently. “Josuke I...I’m a bit older than you. Shouldn’t you go for someone more closer to your age?”

“No, and I’ve never believed age should stop two consenting adults from getting to know each other better.”

“Josuke, I’m old enough to be your big sibling though.”

He quirks his brow at that like you’ve just said something weird. “Well, Mr. Joestar, was like ancient when he met my mom so that really doesn’t bother me.”

For some reason, that comment breaks the tension. You barely hold back a grin. “This Mr. Joestar guy is your father then?”

“Biologically speaking, yeah. He’s pretty old now and I never really knew him, but my mom still loves him with everything she has.”

Okay. Now you are really having heart palpitations.

Josuke is exhibiting a surprising amount of maturity right now, making you eat your words about him being too young for you. Why did he have to be so convincing on top of being cute?

“Give me a chance,” he says. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

After mulling over it for a moment, you finally acquiesce.

“Alright, Josuke. One date, and we’ll see from there.” and just to catch him off guard, you peck his cheek. “Okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Of course, it’ll be perfect!”

Taking the empty lemonade glass from him, you both re-enter your home with smiles on your faces. Josuke stays a little longer and you both chat for a while then make plans for your date. You get to learn about how much of a hopeless romantic he is and how he’s a firm believer in love. He makes it very clear that he doesn’t want a fling and that he’s looking for long-term. All of these things surprise you, as they aren’t what you’d expect from someone as gorgeous as him.

By the time the sun is setting, you know it’s time for you two to part ways. Josuke stands at your foyer with pursed lips and a blush on his cheeks. “Can I...kiss you?”

To answer his question, you lean up and press a soft kiss on his mouth. Josuke’s strong arms snake around your hips, drawing you closer into his sturdy frame. His plush lips are gentle and pliant against your own. 

When Josuke finally pulls back he is presented with the sight of your closed eyes and kiss-reddened lips and it’s the most enthralling two seconds ever. He thinks you're so freaking beautiful.

“Alright handy-man,” you say as you give him one last peck on the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure thing!”

Ironically enough, you have this nightmare of a heatwave to thank for your date with Morioh Cho’s favorite dreamboat.

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[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan...

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax​ for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

A/N: This is a fic I started 10-years ago for another fandom. I never finished it, but I loved the concept. I have an idea of what I want to do with it - hopefully, I’ll finish it this time around.

Part i - Train Wreck 

It had taken forever to get the subwoofer out of the Challenger's trunk without damaging the cords. However, it was done with such skill and precision, it appeared a surgeon had removed it. The tricky part had been hooking the stereo back up to the factory-installed speakers after the subwoofer had been removed, and making everything look nice and neat, so the car’s owner wouldn’t be aware.

It had taken longer than usual, but it was well worth it. Whoever installed this particular unit, did a really good job. They were so meticulous with their installation, right down to the intricate wiring system – not that straight out the box shit that comes with aftermarket speaker setups. It had proven to be a tedious job, but not impossible.

No matter how daunting the task of removing the subwoofer had been, it wasn’t half as difficult as hooking it up to the old iPod without the benefit of a stereo. It had been a painstakingly slow process. One wrong splice of the cord and the mp4 player would short out. But tenacity always paid off. The result looked raggedy, with cords kept in place with electrical tape, the iPod balanced on its side, held in place between two books, and a huge metal subwoofer vibrating next to it. It was ugly, but it worked.

The volume on the iPod was cranked up to the highest level. It was so loud that the walls shook with each kick of the bass drum. There was no reason to ever use a speaker that powerful in a room this size, but the song demanded it. All good music demanded to be blasted at the highest of decibels; this song in particular. It had been playing on repeat for the past hour. One song. One constant beat. One melody, and one voice screeching over that amazing guitar riff. Listening to it on anything lower than the max was the true definition of insanity.

The people staying in the room next door disagreed because they had already done everything to get her to turn it down. They had yelled, banged on the walls, kicked her door, and even called the manager. It didn't matter. The fucking neighbors could eat a dick. Even if they called the National Guard the volume wasn’t changing. This song wasn't "noise", it was destined to be a fucking classic – in her room, if nowhere else. If it was possible to play the song any louder, she would have.

These fuckstick neighbors. They were the only ones that didn't understand how places like this worked. The rule was, there were no rules – that was the beauty of it. That's why this particular room was the best choice. It was on the second floor, around the back facing the alley instead of the highway. There was nothing else on this side of the building except the five rooms on this level, garbage dumpsters, the on ramp, and a peeling billboard. What in the hell were they expecting? If one picked a shit motel, with a shit room that offered no view, why would they think it would be quiet?

Anyone could stay in a two or three-star hotel. But, a bed-bug infested No Tell-Motel? People stayed here because they wanted to get away with whatever dirt they were trying to do. That's why these places charge by the hour and not by the night. Most people wouldn't even want to stay for the entire night. Dirt didn't take that much time to commit. For the most part, the only people who stayed in places like this only needed the space for about 20 minutes…a few hours tops, if they had a lot of stamina. It was don't ask, don't tell…don't listen, don't knock. These assholes should know that. 

Annoying ass neighbors aside, the room was comfortable. The thick smell of stale cigarette smoke clung to the air was reminiscent of home. The smoky air coupled with a heavy bassline made it feel like a rock video. The only problem with the room was that it was hotter than a crack whore's crotch.

The air-conditioning unit in the sole window did little more than blow the smoke rings further around the room. It provided a nice buzzing sound that served as background noise and as a reverb for the music. There was also a burning smell that came from the window-unit being cranked up to full blast. It had been a little hard to get used to, at first, but two packs of cigarettes later, it was no longer noticeable.

The roaches sure didn't seem to appreciate the extra heat in the room. They constantly ran in and out of the vents of the air-conditioner like they were trying to find a cooler climate. Or maybe they were just hungry. The box of half-eaten pizza on the dinette table not only provided a suitable temporary home but also a hardy meal. They gathered there, grabbing their lunchtime snacks before running off to other wall cracks to share in a meal with their friends and family.

Most people would have found the place a disgusting, germ-infested, death trap. But, Torren wasn't most people. She didn't seem to notice anything in particular about her living conditions. She had other things to focus on. She had already paid for this week, and next, so what did she care? The place had all of the essentials; electricity, toilet, running water, a bed, and a TV.

Granted, the electricity was spotty, to the point that she couldn't have her flatiron and blow dryer plugged in at the same time. The toilet was so soiled that it still hadn't been determined if there were rust stains in it, or if it just had never been cleaned…ever. The water ran brown when it rained and a cloudy gray the rest of the time. It didn't get hot either, but it did get tepid if she let it run for 10 minutes, but not hot. Not hot enough to sanitize your hands, or to take a bath in.

But, it was already hot in the room, so a cold shower wasn't so bad. Besides, the tub was indescribable. If someone told her that a family of six had been murdered, and dismembered in that tub, she wouldn't be surprised. It just had that horror movie slaughter look, and the stains to prove it.

The bed was hard and lumpy and judging from the DNA left behind from past guests and holes in the sheets, they probably hadn't ever been changed. The TV was small, but at least it was in color. Hell, the room even came with its own pets, and it was only $50 for the week! There truly wasn't anything to complain about.

Torren Sykes sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, surrounded by ripped out, stolen magazine pages and color copies of photos she’d downloaded and printed at the library. She rocked her head and shoulders in a slow sway to the beat of the song playing. Haphazardly she flipped through the pages until she found a suitable picture and smiled. Picking up the scissors, she licked her lips slowly and ferried her brow, as she started the task of cutting it out.

"Goddammit!" She yelled before slamming the paper down on the bed. Stomping angrily toward the door, she pulled it open and narrowed her eyes at the man standing there. "I swear, if you knock on this door again, I'm gonna slit your fucking throat," she cringed, narrowing her eyes and pointing the shears at the man's neck.

The motel manager was taken by surprise at the half-naked woman holding shears to his neck. Standing before him was a beautiful brunette, with dark features. She had a creamy, light coffee-colored complexion – these days it was hard to judge a person’s ethnic makeup, but if he had to venture a guess, he’d think she was bi-racial. She had perfectly shaped large, almond, brown eyes that gave off nothing but a vacant stare, and a heart-shaped face. The soft dimple in her chin, and the one just at the curve of her mouth, gave her an almost angelic look. She was considerably shorter than him, about 5'5", and well built.

She wouldn't have been considered thin; she was far too curvy for that – the term slim thick instantly sprang to mind. She had thick thighs, extremely pronounced hips, and presumably a large ass. Yet, her waist was small, and her stomach flat, and big breasts. Not too big, where one would sprain their thumb trying to hold them, but they were big enough to keep any man occupied.

The manager wondered if she had some work done to get a body like that. It wasn’t uncommon for women around her to have a little nip, tuck, and a whole lot added to try to look like a vid-hoe, these days.

She was wearing the smallest pair of underwear he'd ever seen. And what was the purpose of wearing a cut off top that stopped just under her nipples? She might as well not be wearing a shirt at all. He could see the curve of the lower half of her breasts because the shirt failed to cover the lower half of her chest. If she raised her arm any higher he would have gotten a full-on nip-slip.

She glistened with a fine sheen of sweat all over her body; her long hair clung to her cheeks and neck, with it. It was almost like her hair was beating as quickly as her pulse was. He could feel the rush of heat come out of the room, as soon as she opened the door. It was like she had just opened the door to an oven. She was hot and sweaty, yet she still wore long tube socks that came up to her knees.

If she hadn't been assaulting him with a deadly weapon, it would have looked like something he’d recently seen on Porn Hub.

He had been so taken aback that he couldn't think of anything to say to her. Instead, he took a step backward and watched as she slammed the door. The entire encounter took about 5 seconds. Long enough for her to open the door, threaten him, and slam it again in his face. He wasn't sure what he was more surprised by, how she answered the door almost naked, the temperature of her room, the level of her music, the anger in her voice, or the scissors that had been pointed just inches below his throat. The whole scene was just wrong and it scared him.

In the 20 seconds that he continued to stand in front of the closed room door, he thought about what scared him the most. It was the look in her eyes. Those beautiful almond-shaped eyes were intense. They were concentrated. They had absently stared right through him. Something about those eyes wasn't right. Had she even seen him? He would never admit it, but he hoped like hell that she hadn't. He hoped that she didn't remember what he looked like. He didn't want any trouble, and he could tell that she definitely was.

Stomping her way back to her bed, Torren resumed her aforementioned position, picked up the copied photo, and started to sway to the music again. She smiled a little taking a second to run her fingers over the image on the page before she resumed cutting. Scraps of paper fell to the bed and the floor, some even stuck to her sweaty legs.

She clutched the cut-out to her chest, before falling back on the bed. Settling on her back, she held the picture up to the light. With tenderness, she brought the piece of paper down to her lips. She kissed it...him, with such passion, before sticking her tongue out of her mouth, and letting it rest on the computer paper - where his lips were, her wet tongue instantly wetting the page and smearing the ink. Planting her feet on the bed, she lifted her waist from the mattress and started to thrust upward with the beat of the song.

Seductively, she flipped over on all fours, laying the picture down on the pillows. She whipped her hair around her head, before letting it hang over her shoulder. She scooped her neck down and began kissing the picture again. As she did, she started to grind her hips hard against the balled up blankets.

She let one hand travel down her torso, toward her panties and smirked at the picture as she did. She braced herself on her left knee and elbow, before lifting her right leg out, then up. Roughly, she took her fingers and plunged them deep inside of herself. She bit her bottom lip, hard; she could taste the coppery blood on her tongue, and when she leaned down to kiss the picture again, she managed to get a nice bloody lip print on it. She twirled her hips and moaned loudly as she pleasured herself. Her eyes never left the picture. She removed her fingers, only to trace the dampness on the image before placing them in her mouth. Her taste was incredible. It always turned her on.

She had to have him. She needed him.

She flipped over on the bed, this time grabbing a magazine cover she had torn off from one of the stacks she found in the library. This one had him on the cover.

With a sense of urgency, she smoothed the waxy page down her body, before stuffing the picture along with her hand inside her panties. She closed her eyes. She felt his tongue running over her; she felt his fingers inside of her. The pillow next to her, the one covered in taped photos of him was now on top of her to simulate his body on hers, as her hand and the magazine continued to work. She couldn't get enough of him. She would never get enough of him.

In the middle of a mind-blowing orgasm, that happened to coincide with the best guitar solo ever created, blasting from the speaker, she managed to yell one word, "IVAR!" Then she flopped back on the bed in hysterical laughter.

She straightened out the magazine cover and picked up her bloody cut-out from the pillow.

Wordlessly, she stuck them both to the wall with her juices; amongst the 50 other printouts of him that hung just over her headboard. After giving him another kiss, she finally turned down the volume on her makeshift stereo, picked up a piece of pizza from the box, shook it off, then headed into the bathroom for a cold shower.

Part ii

Let me know if you want to be added/deleted from tags:

Tags: @idea-garden @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @a-mess-of-fandoms @didiintheblog @conaionaru @peachyboneless​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​

[hieludoboi]

Again?

A/n- I needed to take a break from my Daichi series, I want to be able to write it organically and not pump it out like some factory, so I decided to write this :)

Pairing- Tsukishima/Fem!Reader

Summary- Sometimes things fray, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be fixed

Trigger Warnings- Not a lot really, just a little angsty and a mention or two of just some blood!

Y/n sighed as she stepped past the cherry stained door frame. The bag that clung to her shoulder slipped from her grasp, clattering against a pile of heavily weathered shoes. She cringed, the sound of needles, embroidery scissors and plastic bobbins most likely becoming a mess of tangles and thorns in the black bag. She was tired though and left the bag where it was, practically kicking off her shoes. Her life was going pretty okay, she guessed. Asahi snagged her a spot with a well-known brand as soon as she graduated. She was doing something she loved, threading beautiful tapestries onto ridiculously expensive shirts, reveling in the way designer brands vied for her and her work. It was a nice change from home. Home should feel warm and open, that’s what her sister had told her. So why did her living room feel like a closet?

It was quiet, all the lights were off. There was no trace of Kei in the house, except for his messily piled shoes at the door. How long had they been living like this? In a limbo of bitter feelings? Coming home to empty rooms and dusty clutter on the coffee table? Y/n felt her shoulders sag, her body becoming numb as she trudged into the kitchen, the smell of sweet strawberry shortcake still clinging to the kitchen walls, a subtle reminder of the love she desperately felt for her lover. Love? No, that wasn’t the word. Being with Kei wasn’t love, it was comfortable and normal, mundane at best. There were no soft touches, no gaps of silence suddenly filled with bursts of airy giggles. Lately, her relationship with Kei felt like a construction site. Kei lugged around beams and barrels of concrete as he built up his walls, Y/n standing still on the other side of the barrier, lazily throwing pebbles at the infrastructure he had built overnight. She had stopped trying long ago.

Her fingers felt heavy as she pulled open the fridge. The taste of yearning coated her tongue, clinging to her throat and building a home in her chest. She missed him. She missed the way his voice would float with every chuckle, the way he’d roll his eyes with that tender smile, the dopey smirk on his lips when he would wake up in the morning, their legs tangled among cheap comforters and puppy like love. Y/n sighed through her nose, tired eyes searching the fridge for something filling, only to land on the cake she had made him sitting untouched in the back of the fridge. She had made it for him, knowing it was a favorite before she had to leave for a work trip. She would be stuck in Italy for a few days working on some fancy designer piece. Their relationship was in tatters, but she hoped that the sight of warm cake on the counter could patch up the gaping holes in the fabric of their relationship. How silly of her.

She racked her brain, her head racing along non existent horse tracks while a wispy detective walked idly by on the forgotten roads of her memories. Why? What had she done for him to just leave her on standby? Yet still, she couldn’t be bothered. They had fallen out of sync long ago, only staying with one another out of complacency. The house was big, and it was easier to save money when there was someone to share bills with. Love didn’t exist inside their four walls anymore, but climbing into bed with someone felt better than laying alone and lingering on your thoughts. The feelings were gone, but at least the sex was good, right? Staying together was forgetting, forgetting about their problems, ignoring the depression that dug at their intestines with bottles of strong liquor and clumsy kisses. Forgetting was better than remembering.

“Hey,” Y/n turned from the open fridge to come face to face with Kei. She had been staring at the molded frosting and fuzzy strawberries in the fridge for longer than she thought. Nodding a response, she turned back to the fridge, pulling out the cake to throw it away. “I’m sorry, I forgot about it. Thank you though,” Kei’s voice was soft, his eyes focusing on the black bag that sat on the floor, a frown tugging at his lips. They had loved each other at some point, Kei knew they did. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it a little. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Kei questioned, walking into the kitchen with an annoyed look on his face. He had gotten home late after going to catch up with Tadashi at some little cafe after work.

“Tired,” is all Y/n said as she threw the rotten cake into the trashcan. She’d have to take out the garbage later. Kei huffed, normally, Y/n would be dragging answers from his lips with the claws of her questions, but today seemed different. Had she finally given up? He could feel a frown clinging onto the corners of his lips, but why did it bother him so much? They had never ended their relationship, just watched it waste away, hoping someone would cut the tether before they got married out of complacency. He didn’t know why, but the nagging feelings of change gripped onto his chest, begging for him to do something. What was there left to salvage?

“I’ll do chores tonight, okay?” It was so simple, but the small gesture was enough for her heart to fall into a frenzy of jitters. The look in his eyes was softer than it had been in months, and oh, suddenly his hair seemed brighter, his eyes oozing honey and warmth. Pathetic, she thought to herself. He was just offering to do chores, that was all, Y/n tried to reason with herself. But this was Kei. The smallest of gestures were always the most complex. He didn’t like big shows of emotions after all.

Kei watched as Y/n nodded, her eyes showing the way her mind swam in pools of confusion. This is stupid, Kei thought to himself, sighing through his nose as he pulled the bag from the bin, tying it closed before carrying it to the buckets outside. Doing the chores wouldn’t bring about any change. There wasn’t a remedy for a wandering love. There was no bait that could hook it back to their shores, so why should he even bother? And then he was walking upstairs to their shared bedroom, passing photo after photo of her pretty smile, tripping over the gift bags that littered the steps and finally passing the embroidered dinosaur that sat in a frame on the wall. A gag gift turned favorite by Kei.

He stopped to look at the cloth in the frame, admiring the stitching and shading that ran across its back. He could only imagine all the pricks she had sustained on her fingers because of that stupid little dinosaur. Kei couldn’t help the laugh that breached past his lips, the tender warmth of memory that climbed over the barbed wire around his mind.

Y/n had been working on some piece for a Tokyo based brand when she came to Kei with watery eyes and bloodied fingers. At nearly twenty years old, he never expected to be taking on the role of nurse. He had shaken his head, laughing to himself as he gently wrapped up her fingers, making a quick quip about the way he wraps his own fingers before matches before she interrupted to tell him she knew exactly how he wrapped his fingers. They had spent the rest of the night on the couch, Y/n’s tongue poking out from between her lips as she perfectly wrapped up his fingers. It was such an insignificant gesture; she knew how he wrapped his fingers, so what? But she knew how to wrap them. She came to his games so often that she knew; she paid attention to all his little quirks, and the fact that she paid attention was enough to make him swoon. Not long after that, Kei had become her first.

He shook his head, turning away from the frame to twist the door nob and step into their bedroom. Y/n was sat in bed, the only thing that clung onto her body being the oversized hoodie he had bought for her about two years ago. Why had they fallen out of sync? Things were perfect, simple and so warm. Why had they disconnected? It was, of course, because of Kei’s lack of communication and Y/n’s fear of confrontation.

Y/n looked up at Kei from the manga she had been reading, putting it into her nightstand drawer. Why did she do that? Kei wondered, pulling the glasses from his face and setting them on his dresser. Because you hate having the lights on when you sleep, and she doesn’t want to turn the lights on to read. It bothers you, Kei reminded himself. Lowly humming to himself, Kei walked towards the air conditioner in the room, bumping it down to the lowest setting and angling the vents to blow air to the left. It was a habit, ingrained into his muscles, something he couldn’t go to sleep without doing, but why?

Y/n thought the same thing as she settled into her side of the bed, making sure to leave most of the blanket for Kei. He didn’t exactly like a freezing cold room, so why had he been doing it for so long? You hate sleeping in a warm room, he’s always made sure you’re comfortable before you sleep, Y/n reminded herself, her eyes focusing on the glossy ceiling. Maybe they hadn’t forgotten everything.

“Do- do you think…” Y/n trailed off, rubbing her hands across her face. What was she thinking? Of course there wasn’t, right?

“Hmm?” Kei hummed, feeling the mattress dip under his weight.

“Do you think, that maybe one day we could… Fall in love again?” Y/n whispered, her hands fisting into the quilt they lay on. Kei looked over at Y/n, his face seemingly expressionless. But Y/n knew, with just one look into the pools of honey reflected almost every emotion that ran rampant in her chest.

Kei stayed quiet for a moment, eyes staring at the same ceiling Y/n had been staring at for the past five minutes.

“I want to believe we will…”

[jemch]

How It’s Made Index（S21~S30）

How It’s Made是由 Discovery Channel 制作一款王牌节目，又被翻译为制造的原理或造物小百科， 本片从2001年推出至今，涵盖了几乎所有的制造技术 ，非常适合机械专业和对此感兴趣的同学。希望大家享受这趟制造的艺术之旅！

第二十一季推出时间为2013-04-04至2013-08-01

S21E01 Rubber Gloves; Soap Carvings; Aircraft Cabinets; Motorcycle Brake Locks 橡胶手套，肥皂雕刻，飞机木柜，摩托车制动锁

本集看点：极其舒适的橡胶手套制作过程；

S21E02 Powder Horns; Handcrafted Molds; Perogies; Inner Tubes 粉角，手工模具，饺子，内胎

S21E03 Lace; Antique Frame Replicas; Orchids; Unicycle Wheel Hubs 蕾丝，古董架复制品，兰花，独轮车轮毂

S21E04 External Hard Drives; Frozen Shrimp; Thai Rice Boxes; Paper Towel 外置硬盘，冷冻虾，泰国米箱，纸巾

本集看点：硬核的西部数据移动硬盘组装制程；

S21E05 Tea; Roof Finials; Artificial Flowers; Alloy Wheels 茶，屋顶饰物，人造花，合金轮毂

S21E06 Gel Caps; Playground Spring Riders; Frozen Pancakes; Natural Rubber 胶囊，摇摇玩具，冷冻煎饼，天然橡胶

S21E07 Paper Umbrellas; Coal; Aircraft Seats; Urns 纸伞，煤，飞机座椅，瓮

S21E08 Aluminum Canoes;Wood Bowls;Wheelchair Accessible Vans;Marimbas 铝独木舟，木碗，残疾人改装车，木琴

S21E09 Indy Car Seats; Paper Flowers; Stand-by Generators; 赛车座椅，纸花，备用发电机

S21E10 Knee Replacements; Leaf Springs; Lavender; Rivets and Rivet Tools 膝关节置换，钢板弹簧，薰衣草，铆钉和铆钉的工具

本集看点：另外一种大型弹簧结构；铆钉的工作原理；

S21E11 Cast Iron Stoves; Ultralight Aircraft; Snow Groomers; Rubber Bands 铸铁炉具，超轻型飞机，推雪车，橡皮筋

S21E12 Barber Chairs; Sewage Pumps; Bimini Boat Tops; Diesel Filters 理发椅，污水泵，比米尼游乐船，柴油过滤器

S21E13 Car Tires; Silk; Art Conservation; Scuba Tanks 汽车轮胎，丝绸，艺术保护，潜水氧气瓶

本集看点：铝合金终极冲压教程；

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:8e3c0ca289825ca99cbb7699dcbaf926aeb42265&dn

第二十二季推出时间为2013-10-10至2014-01-16

S22E01 Electric Stand-Up Vehicles; Frozen Fruit; Beer Coasters; Forged Door Handles 电动站立车，冰冻水果，啤酒杯垫，锻造门把手

本集看点：专业铁匠；

S22E02 Rock Crushers;Fabric Lampshades;Cake Sprinkles;Steam Irons 岩石破碎机，织物灯罩，蛋糕彩条，蒸汽熨斗

S22E03 Indy Steering Wheels;Mixed Salad;Wind Turbines 印地赛车方向盘，什锦沙拉，风力涡轮机

S22E04 Blast Doors; Lipstick; Artificial Palm Trees; Brass Plaques 防爆门，口红，人造棕榈树，黄铜牌匾

S22E05 Carbon Fiber; Antique Frame Restoration; Railcar Movers; Hood Ornaments 碳纤维，古董保存架，有轨机车，车头装饰品

S22E06 Sawhorses and Toolboxes;Sorbet Pops;School Buses 史丹利工具箱，便携汁冰糕，校车

S22E07 Sanders;Solid Terrain Models;Stucco;High-Speed Roll-up Doors 抛光机，固体地形模型，水泥，高速卷门

S22E08 Pressed Glass;Pickup Truck Caps;Alpaca Yarn;Utility Knives 压制玻璃，敞蓬小型载货卡车，羊驼纱线，工具刀

S22E09 Body Casting; Downdraft Stoves; Compression Garments; Electric Motorcycles 身体模型，气流炉灶，长袜，电动摩托车

S22E10 Sidecars;Frozen French Toast;Refrigerator Compressors;Superchargers 摩托侧箱，冷冻法式土司，冰箱压缩机，增压器

S22E11 Custom Knee Braces;Air Conditioners;Window Films;Motorcycle Exhaust 定制膝盖支撑，空调，窗户贴膜，摩托车排气管

S22E12 Solid State Drives;Eye Shadow;Limousines;Dead Blow Hammers 固态硬盘，眼影，豪华加长轿车，香槟锤

本集看点：先进半导体制程制作的硬盘；

S22E13 Dragster Tires; Icing; Floating Docks; Spiral Pipes 赛车轮胎，冰淇淋，飘浮船坞，螺旋管

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:c1ddbd38f95041c1482295587ae0c59e19416937&dn

第二十三季推出时间为2014-04-03至2014-07-03

S23E01 Motion Sensors; Belt Loaders; Pheasant Breeding; Diving Helmets 运动传感器，带式装载机，野鸡养殖，潜水头盔

本集看点：先进半导体制程制作的传感器芯片；

S23E02 Rawhide Lampshades; Chocolate Chip Cookies; MRI Scanners 皮灯罩，巧克力饼干，核磁共振成像扫描仪

S23E03 Noise Barrier Walls; Front-Load Washers; Bourbon; Flexible Circuit 声音屏障墙，滚筒洗衣机，威士忌，柔性电路板（FPC）

本集看点：柔性电路板是如何加工的；

S23E04 Railway Bridge Ties; Membrane Filters; Hydraulic Post Drivers; Bi-Planes 铁路桥梁枕木，膜过滤器，桩机，四翼飞机

S23E05 Hospital Laundry; Brass Instrument Restoration; Horse Replicas; Excavation 医院洗衣，铜管乐器修复，马复制品，挖掘机挖斗

本集看点： 用玻璃纤维制作空心复制品；巨厚钢板的激光切割，折弯与焊接；

S23E06 Ceramic Fireplaces; Synthetic Corks; Parking Garage Floor Slabs 陶瓷壁炉，合成软木塞，车库楼板

本集看点： 多种塑胶粒子组合的连续注塑；

S23E07 Oil Pressure Sensors; Printing; Equipment Simulators; Head & Neck Restraints 油压传感器，大型印刷，设备模拟器，护颈

本集看点： 打金线制程；

S23E08 Mobile Concert Stages; Mascara; Continuous Miners; Wood Gift Boxes 移动音乐会舞台，睫毛膏，挖煤机，木制礼品盒

S23E09 NASCAR Car Bodies; Hurley Sticks; Tube Amplifiers; Thermal Coffee Pots 纳斯卡跑车车身，赫尔利球球棒，声音放大器，热咖啡壶

S23E10 Electric Vehicle Charging Stations; Grappa; Lunar Rover Replicas 电动汽车充电站； 格拉巴酒； 月球车复制品

S23E11 Slate Tiles; Hot Dog Carts; Garage Door Openers; Bicycle Seats 板岩瓷砖；热狗车； 车库门开启器； 自行车座椅

S23E12 Racing Leathers; Evaporative Cooling Towers; Rocking Chairs; Wire Wheels 赛车皮革；蒸发冷却塔； 摇椅； 钢丝轮

本集看点： 滚丝螺纹工艺；

S23E13 Mountain Bikes; Rice; Lever Action Rifles 山地自行车；大米；杠杆动作步枪

S23E14 Shark Week Edition: Surfboards; Diving Regulators; SCUBA Tanks; Water Skis 回收冲浪板； 潜水调节器； 潜水氧气瓶； 滑水板

S23E15 300th Episode - Shark Week Edition: Sails; Reef Aquariums; Oceanographic Buoys; Folding Kayaks 风帆； 珊瑚礁水族馆； 海洋浮标； 折叠皮划艇

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:33139d133183e8bf6e6dfec6684ca9f07bec0982&dn

第二十四季推出时间为2014-09-25至2015-01-15

S24E01 Saunas; Wheelchair Lifts; Dioramas 桑拿； 轮椅升降机； 立体模型

S24E02 Oil Lamps; Chocolate Mints; Underfloor Heating; Pillows 油灯； 巧克力薄荷糖； 地板采暖; 枕头

S24E03 Upright Pianos; Flags; Wet/Dry Vacuums; Medieval Axes 立式钢琴； 旗帜； 湿式/干式吸尘器； 中世纪斧头

S24E04 Skeletal Replicas; Ice Buckets; Dining Chairs; Inground Pools 骨骼复制品； 冰桶； 餐椅； 地下游泳池

S24E05 Automatic Sliding Doors; Gin; Firearms Restoration 自动推拉门； 杜松子酒; 枪械修复

S24E06 Scuba Lights; Sandals; Race Car Simulators; Fibreglass Doors 潜水灯；凉鞋；赛车模拟器； 玻璃钢门

S24E07 Wood Windows; Cashmere Fabric; Plastic Recycling; Architectural Glass 木窗； 羊绒面料； 塑料回收； 建筑玻璃

S24E08 Gas Barbecues; Mattress Pads; Ear Prostheses 燃气烧烤炉； 床垫； 耳假体

S24E09 Recycled Skateboards; Braided Pastry; Construction Trailers; Vises 回收滑板； 编织糕点； 施工拖车； 虎钳

S24E10 Plasma Gems; Special Effects Snow; Piano Restoration 等离子宝石； 特效雪； 钢琴修复

S24E11 3-Wheel Electric Bikes; Skin Cream; Patio Heaters; Wood Wheels 三轮电动自行车； 润肤霜; 天井取暖器； 木轮

S24E12 Old West Holsters; Underwater Video Housings; Soy Beverages; Pet Nail Trimmers 老西部皮套； 水下视频外壳； 大豆饮料； 宠物指甲修剪器

S24E13 Wood Garage Doors; Sand and Salt Spreaders; Animatronic Dinosaurs 木车库门； 沙子和盐撒布机； 电子动画恐龙

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:0a4eda224bbaf24666bb12c13bf1cd5732bf51fd&dn

第二十五季推出时间为2015-04-02至2015-07-02

S25E01 Grammy Awards; Bicycle Lights; Above-Ground Pools; Foldable Solar Panels 格莱美奖; 自行车灯； 地上游泳池； 可折叠太阳能电池板

S25E02 Led Stage Lights; Apple Cider; Chemical Tank Trailers; Ornate Stone Floor LED舞台灯； 苹果酒; 化学品罐拖车； 华丽的石地板

S25E03 Fishing Line; Industrial Mixers; Natural Baking Soda; and Tow Trucks 钓鱼线; 工业搅拌机； 天然小苏打； 拖车

S25E04 Storage Sheds; Industrial Fans; Parchment Paper; and Climbing Walls 储藏棚； 工业风扇；羊皮纸；攀岩墙

S25E05 Precast Concrete Walls; 3D Printers; Telescopic Cranes; Kerosene Lamp Burners 预制混凝土墙； 3D 打印机； 伸缩式起重机； 煤油灯燃烧器

S25E06 Car Headlamps; Directional Drills; Pet Combs; and Stained Glass Restoration 汽车大灯； 定向钻； 宠物梳子； 彩色玻璃修复

S25E07 Handcrafted Skis; Septic Tanks; Hydroformed Chassis Parts; Aquarium Windows 手工制作的滑雪板； 化粪池; 液压成型底盘零件； 水族馆窗户

S25E08 Zip Line Brakes; Silk Fiber Lamps; Round Balers; Comfort Shoes 拉链线制动器； 丝纤维灯； 圆形打包机； 舒适鞋

S25E09 Armored Vehicles; Tension Fabric Buildings; Rowers; Sculpture Enlargements 装甲车； ���力织物建筑； 划船者； 雕塑放大

S25E10 Mountain Bike Suspensions; Surgical Sutures; Grain Dryers; and Frying Pans 山地自行车悬架； 手术缝合； 谷物烘干机； 煎锅

S25E11 Downhill Ski Bindings; Immersion Washers; Mining Ventilation; Pencil Sharpeners 速降滑雪绑定； 浸入式垫圈； 矿用通风； 卷笔刀

S25E12 Gingerbread Houses; Livestock Trailers; Hangar Doors; and Toy Figurines 姜饼屋； 牲畜拖车； 机库门； 玩具公仔

S25E13 Traffic Signal Poles; Coffee Filters; and Chainsaw Mining Machines; 交通信号杆； 咖啡过滤器； 链锯采矿机；

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:78ae318559e0477f5bb1db0abb0fcfa841e491be&dn

第二十六季推出时��为2015-09-10至2015-12-17

S26E01 Time-Delay Locks; Brownies; Pallet Dispensers; and Crystal Chandeliers 延时锁； 布朗尼; 托盘分配器； 水晶吊灯

S26E02 Bead Wire; Mini Pepperoni; Irrigation Sprinklers; and Leather Gloves 珠线； 迷你意大利辣香肠； 灌溉喷头； 皮手套

S26E03 Mouth-Blown Window Glass; Water Pumps; Sake; Tweezers 口吹窗玻璃； 水泵; 清酒; 镊子

S26E04 Statue Restoration; Tripods; Polish Sausages; Welding Guns 雕像修复； 三脚架； 波兰香肠； 焊枪

S26E05 Champagne; ATMs; Marine Turbochargers; 香槟酒; 自动取款机； 船用涡轮增压器；

S26E06 Sharpening Steels; Bladder Pumps; Ironing Boards; and Kayak Paddles 磨刀钢； 膀胱泵； 烫衣板； 皮划艇桨

S26E07 Champagne Hoods; Pneumatic Systems; Espresso Machines; Pizza Ovens 香槟罩； 气动系统； 浓缩咖啡机； 比萨烤箱

S26E08 Stile & Rail Doors, Steam Cleaners, Hand-Held Pizzas, and Power Brushes 轨道门；蒸汽清洁器；手持比萨饼；电动刷

S26E09 Industrial Casters; Wedding Cakes; THz Spectrometers; Racing Catamarans 工业脚轮； 婚礼蛋糕； 太赫兹光谱仪； 竞速双体船

S26E10 Ceramic Grills, Pneumatic Punchers, Water Jet Fountains, Wooden Surfboards 陶瓷烤架、气动打孔机、喷水喷泉、木制冲浪板

S26E11 Vibrating Mining Screens; Whoopie Pies; Utility Poles; Roller Conveyors 振动采矿筛； 百日咳派； 电线杆； 滚筒输送机

本集看点：电线杆也内卷；

S26E12 Exercise Bikes; Cornish Pasties; Pasta Makers; Slate Products 健身车； 康沃尔馅饼； 面食制造商； 板岩产品

S26E13 Channel Signs, Wetsuits, and Aluminum Aircraft 航道标志；潜水服；铝制飞机

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:85892a96e09b0d9f596d98bcd450aeb870a6af3d&dn

第二十七季推出时间为2016-05-19至2016-08-15

S27E01 CNC Assembly Machines; Lemon Tarts; Miniature War Figures 数控组装机； 柠檬馅饼； 微型战争人物

S27E02 Chemical Tank Pressure Vents; Candy Wafers; Food Trucks; Traditional Ropes 化学品罐压力通风口； 糖果晶圆； 食品卡车； 传统绳索

S27E03 Graphene; Worlds Smallest Car; Force Testers; Composite Cans 石墨烯； 世界上最小的汽车； 力测试仪； 复合罐

本集看点：单层的石墨烯是如何分离出来的；

S27E04 LED tubes; chocolate peanut butter bars; robotic medication dispensers. LED灯管；巧克力花生酱棒；机器人配药器

S27E05 Commercial drones; aquarium fish; runway cleaners. 商用无人机； 观赏鱼； 跑道清洁工

S27E06 Wooden Matches, Tillage Machines, Telescopic Gangways 木火柴、耕地机、伸缩式舷梯

S27E07 Mosquito Coils, Solar-Assist Tricycles, Palm Oil, Fiberglass Chopper Guns 蚊香、太阳能辅助三轮车、棕榈油、玻璃纤维斩波枪

S27E08 Wood Toys, Retro Toasters, Laboratory Furnaces, Aerogel 木制玩具、复古烤面包机、实验室炉、气凝胶

S27E09 Combination Squares, Farmed Shrimp, Ball Valves and String Trimmers 组合方形、养殖虾、球阀和切线器

S27E10 Chinese-style Furniture, Electrical Switches, Thai Fish Sauce, Cappers 中式家具、电器开关、泰式鱼露、压盖机

S27E11 Mortars and pestles; bowling lane conditioners; crematories 研钵和研杵； 保龄球道调节器； 火葬场

S27E12 Race Car Oil Tanks; Plaster Mouldings; Lemongrass Oil 赛车油箱； 石膏线条； 柠檬草油

S27E13 Coconut Charcoal; Dial Indicators; Wet Downdraft Tables; Bassoon Reeds 椰子炭； 表盘指示器； 湿式下吸台； 巴松管簧片

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:5289719d3944f98f2c2d425cd79b0487aec36fc7&dn

第二十八季推出时间为2016-08-22至2016-11-03

S28E01 Classic Car Gauges; Chocolate Marble Cake; Ghillie Kettles 经典汽车仪表； 巧克力大理石蛋糕； 吉利水壶

S28E02 Pasta Dies; Blueberries; Composting Toilets; Surge Arresters 面食模具； 蓝莓; 堆肥厕所； 避雷器

S28E03 Angle Grinders; Berry Baskets; Omnidirectional Speakers 角磨机； 浆果篮； 全向扬声器

S28E04 Cartridge Blades; Chocolate Banana Loaves; Vending 墨盒刀片； 巧克力香蕉面包； 自动售货机

S28E05 Ultra-Thin Glass; Pallet Dismantlers; Cupcakes; Stainless Steel 超薄玻璃； 托盘拆卸器； 纸杯蛋糕; 不锈钢

本集看点： 溢流熔融法制作的柔性超薄玻璃（应该是康宁）；

S28E06 Potash; Leather Bracelets; Wild Rice; Hex Key L Wrenches 钾肥； 皮革手链； 野米; 六角扳手 L

S28E07 Nail Files; Birch Canoes; Boat Hardtops; High Voltage Circuit 指甲锉； 桦木独木舟； 船硬顶； 高压电路

S28E08 Macarons; Pine Needle Baskets; Micrometers 马卡龙； 松针篮； 千分尺

S28E09 Endoscopes; Megaphones; Uranium 内窥镜； 扩音器； 铀

S28E10 Hollow Disk Pumps; Palm Sugar; Yachts 空心圆盘泵； 棕榈糖; 游艇

S28E11 Abalone Collagen; Digital-to-Analog Converters; Embosssed 鲍鱼胶原蛋白； 数模转换器； 压花

S28E12 Thai Barbecues; Diving Masks & Fins; Bassoons 泰式烧烤； 潜水面罩和脚蹼； 巴松管

S28E13 Wooden Utensils; Transport Refrigeration Units; Moccasins 木制餐具； 运输制冷装置； 莫卡辛鞋

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:6b3298e03c0e32ede5bc1b81e13a315adae86528&dn

第二十九季推出时间为2017-06-22至2017-09-24

S29E01 Skateboard Wheels; Baklava & Galaktoboureko; CO2 滑板轮；千层酥皮奶冻玉米糕 ；二氧化碳

S29E02 Nuno Felt; Drum Crushers; Kimchi; Parquet Floors 努诺毡；鼓式破碎机；泡菜；镶木地板

S29E03 Wood Watches; Steel Bicycles; Raw Pet Food; Replica Police 木表； 钢制自行车； 生宠物食品； 复制警察

S29E04 Thermoplastic Fire Helmets; Basketry Sculptures; Coffee 热塑性消防头盔； 篮子雕塑； 咖啡

S29E05 Office Chairs; Vinobrew; Reconditioned Sander Drums 办公椅； 酒酿； 翻新砂光鼓

S29E06 Fireplace Bellows; Calissons; Diving Watercraft 壁炉波纹管； 卡利松； 潜水艇

S29E07 Artist Brushes; DEF Tank Heaters; Game Tables; Art Glass 艺术家画笔； DEF 储罐加热器； 游戏桌； 艺术玻璃

S29E08 Flying Water Bikes; Throttle Position Sensors; Cinnamon 飞行水上自行车； 油门位置传感器； 肉桂

S29E09 Foosball Tables; Marseille Soap; Laguiole Pocket Knives 桌上足球桌； 马赛皂； 拉吉奥小折刀

S29E10 Berets; Pastis; Stationary Bikes 贝雷帽； 意大利面食； 固定自行车

S29E11 Bistro Sets; Letterpress Printing; Bamboo Lights; Asphalt 小酒馆套餐； 凸版印刷； ��灯； 沥青压车

S29E12 Technological Corks; Zinc Gutters; Traditional Ham; Chisteras 技术软木塞； 锌天沟； 传统火腿； 奇斯特拉斯游戏手臂

S29E13 Pentanque Ball; Biologic Medicines; Asphalt Pavers; Basques 滚球； 生物药物； 沥青摊铺机； 巴斯克鞋

本期看点：空心半铁球焊接，再两步CNC制作出完美球形；

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:971ec4ef1ce447538e18d1305ec2f8103daee29d&dn

第三十季推出时间为 2017-09-11至2017-12-18

S30E01 Leather Basketballs; Flood Gates; Wood Panel Canvases; Shoelaces 皮革篮球； 防洪闸； 木板画布； 鞋带

S30E02 Power Steering Pumps; Asian Bowl Meals; Walking Canes 动力转向泵； 亚洲碗餐； 手杖

S30E03 Plant Oil Extractors; Custom Chandeliers; Power Trainers; Coffee Pods 植物油提取器； 定制吊灯； 力量训练器； 咖啡包

S30E04 Witness Samples; Pressure Washers; Bee Hives; Cast Iron Cookers 见证样品； 压力垫圈； 蜂箱； 铸铁炊具

S30E05 Leather Sculptures; Travel Hot Plates; Ochre; Hurdy Gurdies 皮革雕塑； 旅行热板； 赭石；赫迪·古尔迪斯

S30E06 Spiral Stairs; Pita Bread; Exhaust Headers; Molded Limestone Artwork 螺旋楼梯； 皮塔饼； 排气集管； 模压石灰石艺术品

S30E07 Recycled Skateboard Guitars; Solar Street Lights; Dolls 回收的滑板吉他； 太阳能路灯； 娃娃

S30E08 Glass Sculptures; Racing Pulley Systems; Inductors; Medicine Balls 玻璃雕塑； 赛车滑轮系统； 电感器； 药丸

S30E09 Fish Rubbings; Clay Shooting Machines; Almonds; High-End Motorcycles 鱼拓片； 粘土射击机； 杏仁; 高端摩托车

S30E10 Throttle Bodies; Limestone Fireplace Mantels; Candied Fruit & Fruit Jellies; Linen Ukulele 节气门体； 石灰石壁炉架； 蜜饯和果冻； 亚麻尤克里里

S30E11 Rubber Balls; Motion Chairs; Montreal Smoked Meat; Motorized Scooters 橡胶球； 运动椅； 蒙特利尔熏肉； 电动滑板车

S30E12 Aerospace Fasteners; Cactus Pear Puree; Lab Reactors 航空紧固件； 仙人掌梨泥； 实验室反应器

S30E13 Wall Beds; Sundae Cups; Digital Paintings; Badminton Rackets 壁床； 圣代杯； 数字绘画； 羽毛球拍

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:cc865a515b621051b71e833bd62e466fc45949d3&dn