#the Now Saddled addition!

[metaphorical-goblin]

happy unnecessary feelings day everyone

[comatosebunny09]

preface [ un ] | sylus

summary: he reluctantly agreed to let you be bait. ‘you’ll be fine,’ he tells himself. you always are, more than capable of holding your own. you wouldn’t be his ace otherwise. his jaw tenses. doesn’t make him worry any less. he just needs you to hold out a little bit longer until he can get to you. and hopefully, the other girls they’d taken from their families are with you, too.

warning(s): alcohol use, adult themes, profanity, kidnapping, mild violence

now playing: champagne cool - jackson wang

tagging: @athanasia-day @falon-fen @queen-serena88 @karespocketboyfriends @mrswanel @readerxyourfave @world-of-hearts @sunsets-and-crows @antonneva

notes: preface for limerence. | part 2

He doesn’t like to share.

He’s slowly coming to terms with that fact. Not that you’re property. A snack he’s meant to go halfsies with on the playground. But he won’t deny seeing you ride the mechanical bull like that with all those people watching. Well…

It does something to him.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Sighs for the umpteenth time, the six screens meshed together in the security room of his penthouse flashing over his features. You’re having a good time. Doing your thing, riding it like it’s no one’s business. Garnering the attention of almost everyone in his club like you always do.

Bull be damned.

He’d bought the damn thing at your behest. You were so cute about it. Pushed your chest against his bicep, squeezed his hand, gave him those beseeching eyes. A farce you put on to get your way. But Sylus and the twins knew better. Knew what truly lurked beneath that glitter and glam. Yet he still fell for it.

He always does.

You reasoned the bull would be a nice add-on. Something to dress up Lux’s so-called drab decor. And sure, it was an interesting addition. A contrast of cowhide and worn colors amid the lush, crimson curtains framing the stage and gilded columns stretching high towards a yawning ceiling. In your words, it was meant to bring in new clientele and keep regulars coming back. Something to expose the seedy underbelly of the city. Lure out his enemies. After all, who could resist a pretty thing like you on a bull? 

Lux is one of Sylus’ many business ventures. A posh little club settled in the city’s heart where innocents and lowlifes frequent alike. Most come for the atmosphere, the unrivaled drinks, and the pretty dancers. Some stay for the promise of something more intimate. Backstage performances, one-on-ones with the lavish women who work there. 

Too bad some of the people who come seeking respite never check out. 

He’s hauled back to the present by cheers of varying degrees. Whistling and not-so-innocent words hurled at the stage. All at you. 

Sylus pitches himself forward to perch sturdy hands on his desk. Shakes his head, exasperation inhabiting his person. 

You’re giving everyone a show of your chest—boasted by the tight costume he had custom made for you—when you lean back like that, your spine level with the saddle. Smile sultry and bleeding sin. He swears he catches you winking at him, thoroughly aware of the many cameras littering his club. 

You’ll be the death of him one day. He’s sure of it. 

He taps the earpiece nestled in his ear. Prepares to lecture you for showboating like that. You’re laying it on too thick tonight. And he feels like a concerned dad about to scold his daughter for wearing something that bears too much skin. But before he can fix his mouth to reprimand you, the whisper of an errant breeze catches his attention.

He cants his head. Doesn’t have to look to know Luke is there behind him, haloed by the shadows. Bowed slightly at the hip with a fist pressed to his chest in greeting. 

“Speak,” Sylus orders, his voice rough with disuse. He pushes down the vexation fizzling in his veins. 

“He’s here, boss,” Luke states.

It’s a simple enmeshment of words, yet it’s enough to shift the atmosphere of the security room just the slightest. Sylus’ jaw tenses, the tendons in his neck flexing. His nostrils flare, and he pushes off the polished oakwood to stuff his hands in his pockets.

The real reason why you’re peacocking about like this has just arrived. And Sylus feels his hackles raise, his lips twitching with an impulse to scowl. The tendrils of his Evol threaten to make themselves known, but he tamps down his quiet rage, trading it for level-headedness. It won’t do him any good to lose his cool now. Not until he’s extracted all the information he needs to make his move tonight.

Sparing a final look at the CCTV footage, he appears composed as he snatches his coat from his leather rolling chair. Drapes it over his shoulders in customary fashion, stepping past his subordinate. Kieran appears at his side as if summoned from thought alone, never missing a beat.

“Keep an eye on her,” commands Sylus over his shoulder to the other twin. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything…reckless.” 

Luke complies with a curt bow before the door of the security room clicks shut. Left to his own devices, Luke chuckles. Rubs the chin of his mask in thought, studying the blue flicker of the various screens, all displaying you.

“More reckless than usual?” he quietly queries, amusement surfing in the undernotes of his voice.

—

Sylus is a businessman through and through. He built his empire granting favors, trading weapons, and other nefarious deeds. Despite how much he radiates murderous intent, he’s cordial as he shakes his guest’s hand. Dons a foolhardy grin, motioning for the man to sit across from him in his private office.

The gentleman’s bodyguards flank him when he takes his seat. Four of them standing in good form behind him, their bodies taut with the need to shoot if necessary. All for little old Sylus?

Sylus sits back in his plush, red leather seat. Crosses his legs, tapping his fingers together. Kieran stands not too far off behind him. All the muscle he needs. “Mister Fate,” Sylus acknowledges, finding it too easy to fall into such an affable role. He’s done this too many times. “It’s been too long.”

The man seated across cracks a smile. The years haven’t been kind to him, wrinkles and sunspots littering his face. “It has,” Fate agrees, twining his fingers in his lap. He hides his intent behind dark lenses. But Sylus already knows what’s genuinely driven him here to his club. Knows what lurks beneath that amiable mask of his.

“Can I offer you a drink?” asks Sylus, ever the trained actor. By the time he’s finished asking, Mister Fate’s attention is elsewhere, focused on the ceiling-high, one-way glass window beside them. A knowing smirk crooks Sylus’ lips. 

Beyond the window stretches his club below. Bodies writhing, merriment filling the air. And then there’s you, the focal point of the stage. Standing on the bull like a surfboard, that pretty smile canting your lips as you tilt your hat. You make it look so easy. His office is soundproof and shrouded in dim lighting. But he knows you’re dancing to your favorite song, basking in the attention. The limelight. 

Serving as the perfect distraction. 

And Mister Fate’s hooked. Tugs on the round of his tie, his mouth growing dry. He can’t look away, taken by your beauty and charm. You always play your role to a T. The pretty femme fatale that everyone wants a chance with but is rarely awarded your time. Your attention. 

Not like Sylus. 

And he doesn’t know what’s washing over him when his fingers twitch on the armchair, and his brow ticks towards his hairline. But he suddenly doesn’t like how Fate’s watching you like a prime cut of meat waiting to be seared and consumed. Had it been any of the others, would he still feel so defensive? “Mister Fate,” Sylus tries again after clearing his throat.

The gentleman in question finally tears his ironclad stare away from the window to look at Sylus. Like he’s been caught doing something naughty. It’s normal to stare. Sylus sometimes finds himself, too, falling prey to your allure.

Sylus motions to a whiskey decanter and two glasses on the coffee table before them. “Can I interest you in a drink? Something to wet your whistle?”

“Y-Yes, of course,” the aging man replies, bringing a shaky hand to his face to stroke his mustache. It’s comical how sweat collects on his forehead and between the thin hairs bordering his lip. You really are something dangerous, aren’t you?

“Such a beautiful girl,” Fate notes, more-so to himself whilst the slosh of viscous fluid poured into a glass fills the quieted room. Sylus slides the man his drink, and he’s not at all surprised to find him peering out the window again. “A very lovely girl.” He speaks as if he’s in a trance. Fallen prey to your spell, just like Sylus knew he would.

Sylus raises his glass to the man to toast but to no avail. He’s found what he’s looking for. And you’ve served your part well. And Sylus most certainly does not bristle as he leans back in his seat, dumping the contents of his glass down his throat, the acrid sting serving to ground him.

“Mister Fate,” he tries again, attempting to redirect the subject. He’s becoming increasingly sensitive when it comes to you these days. Doesn’t know why the thought of you makes his chest pull where before, you were something of convenience. 

There’s amusement in Sylus’ voice as he puts back up that arrogant front. “Did you come here just to ogle my dancers, or are we going to get down to business?”

Fate, as if remembering himself, quickly wipes his mouth after taking a sip. Sets his glass down, leaning forward with his elbows resting in the pockets of his thighs. “Ah, yes! Of course!” 

Sylus spares one more look out the window. You glance up as the crowd you gathered erupts in applause and praise. Like you sensed your boss’ scarlet eyes on you. And with a knowing lift of your brow and an unnoticeable nod from Sylus, he starts digging for what he’s truly after.

Information. 

—

Fate talks in riddles, but Sylus is good at reading between thin lines. 

They’re halfway through a game of chess when Sylus’ earpiece crackles to life for the first time in nearly an hour. And it’s your voice pouring through, dipped a few octaves down. Amused.

“Woah,” you chuckle, the click of your heels slowing to a stop. “Is that a gun in your indigo pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

There’s a rigidness to Sylus’ movements as he sets his rook down on the chessboard. The world melts away around him, and he finds himself trained on the hang of your voice on the other end. 

He tries not to show it, adrenaline spuming through his body. You said the code word. Indigo. Something to signify you’re about to be captured. You’d lain yourself out as bait to further Sylus’ agenda. You always did. Always served him well, the brawn and beauty. 

You’ll be fine, he tells himself. You always are. More than capable of holding your own. You wouldn’t be his ace otherwise. His jaw tenses. Doesn’t make him worry any less. 

This is a dangerous game you’re playing. The both of you. One wrong step and he could lose his diamond. He’s spent years hunting Fate down. Knew it’d be a matter of time before he bared himself, the greedy bastard. All thanks to you.

“Mister Sylus,” Fate interjects, tapping the clock on the side of their chessboard. Sylus glances up to see his lips crooked with a smile. Something omniscient. Smug. “It’s your turn.”

Sylus rights himself. Poises his hand over the next piece, prepared to make his move. He tamps down a rush of epinephrine when he hears a gruff voice grouse, “Yeah right, bitch, get in the car,” in his earpiece.

You laugh, the sound of it rich and complacent. “What? Not gonna buy me dinner first?”

There’s a brief scuffle taking place in his ear, followed by the sound of something blunt being jammed against bone. And then, there is but the sound of exertion. Orders being barked, car doors slamming. A shriek of feedback and then cold silence.

They’ve more than likely knocked you out. Found your earpiece and disposed of it.

He has faith that you’ll survive long enough to get to the auction unscathed. At least until he can track you to its location. 

—

“It’s been a pleasure, Mister Sylus,” says Fate once the game ends, shaking his hand a little too firm. “Maybe next time I’ll beat you.”

“You almost did,” Sylus counters on a double entendre. Fate regards him with a quirked brow, still holding fast to his hand, rooted to the spot. He scrutinizes Sylus a little longer before one of Fate’s bodyguards approaches him from his side, murmuring something into his ear. It’s hushed, but Sylus picks up on keywords and uses context clues to piece everything together. 

The package has been secured. 

That package being you.

The blood in Sylus’ veins turns to ice. He keeps up the mask of indifference as Mister Fate smiles at him a little too knowingly. Bordered by his men, he excuses himself from the Sylus’ office, taking his egotistical aura with him. 

He feels the twins standing behind him. Stuffs his hands in his slacks’ pockets, studying his feet, the tendons in his jaw pulling. 

“We found her, boss,” Kieran cautiously states. “Looks like they haven’t discovered the tracker in her brooch. You were r—”

“Alive?” Sylus interrupts. He knows you’re fine. But he steels himself against the worst outcome just in case.

“Looks like it.”

A glimmer of something indiscernible fleets over Sylus’ visage. Atta girl.

He signals for the twins to get moving over his shoulder. And when they clear the room in a gust of wind, he’s already sinking into the inky, feathery shadows of his Evol, prepared to find you before they’ve sold you off to the highest bidder.

He just needs you to hold out a little bit longer until he can get to you. And hopefully, the other girls are with you, too.

[k1ssuu]

SADDLE UP, COWGIRL 𐚁₊⊹

bull rider!abby x farmer’s daughter // word count : 1,086 // not proof read

Abigail ‘Abby’ Anderson, otherwise known as the best damn bull rider in the West. She’d been in the rodeo as a bull rider since she was old enough to do so. She was decent enough at first, but within a few seasons she managed to dominate all the other competition in town, and even in the state. She was the top rider in the women’s division, but managed to effortlessly beat the scores of the top ranking men as well.

Before you and Abby had gotten together you would admire her silently from the stands. You would drag your friends with you every Saturday just so you could see that girl ride. You never left disappointed. Now that you are together you continue to show up every weekend, supporting your girlfriend loudly from the bleachers.

There she was now, on the back of the bucking steer, her face furrowed in concentration. The way she moved her hips and the sight of her muscles flexing through her slightly too tight button up shirt had you captivated. Her skill was both impressive and so, so hot. Her dirty blonde hair shone in the afternoon sun, tied back in its usual neat braid. Counting down the timer in her head, you could see her look of concentration turn to one of triumph. The stands cheered loudly as the eight second timer buzzed, signifying that she had done it once again.

“Another incredible run for Abby with a score of 90 points! Each and every day she gets closer to a perfect score! Will next Saturday be the day she finally hits that big 100!?” The announcers said excitedly over the speakers, and the crowd only grew louder after hearing her score. You, of course, cheered along with them.

You watched as the bullfighters helped her off the bull, her smile wide as she waved to the stands. Quickly making your way down to the side of the arena, you met her as soon as she walked out. You met her halfway and wrapped your arms around her, burying your nose into her hair.

“That was incredible.” You pulled away, taking a second to admire her. A bead of sweat ran down her temple and her freckled cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. The smile that you loved so much had not left her face, and likely would not for the rest of the night.

“What, you surprised?” She asked sarcastically, her eyes wandering across your frame.

With a scoff you replied. “Obviously not.” To which she laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. Her lips were always soft and tonight she tasted like coffee and a hint of chewing tobacco. She always tasted like chewing tobacco after the rodeo. You both pulled away, stupid smiles on each of your faces.

She took a step back and wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to her. “Come on, let’s watch the rest of the rodeo.” She said as she steered you into the direction of the stands.

You stayed for the remainder of the night, watching all the other bull riders (none of which were as impressive as Abby) and the barrel racers. The sun started to sink behind the mountainous horizon, painting the sky various hues of pinks, purples, and blues. Abby was a constant presence of warmth next to you, an additional layer of heat in the already humid air.

By the time the rodeo was over, Abby had maintained the highest score in the bull riding division, not that anyone was surprised to hear. She walked away from that arena with her chin held highly and you tucked under her arm. You walked amongst the crowd of people back to Abby’s car. Many offered their congratulations to your girlfriend as they passed, saying things along the lines of “you did it again!” and “nobody has a chance with you as their competition”.

She thanked each of them, her smile growing just a little bit bigger each time. Her arm tightened around you just slightly, keeping you close to her.

Everyone was covered in the reddish dirt, blue jeans and button ups were covered in it, which was normal after a night at the rodeo. The sound of everyone’s footsteps on the soft ground sounded like a herd of cattle traveling down the path. By now the sun had set and the stars had begun to twinkle up above.

Abby led you to her beat up old truck and opened the passenger door for you, ever the polite lady. Her truck was unmistakable. It was an old, worn down Ford that had rusted bumpers and holes in the seats. It smelled like her, too. All in all it was rough around the edges but comfortable enough.

Once you were situated in the passenger seat she joined you, sitting in the driver’s seat. However instead of turning the car on she just sat there and gave you a dopey smile.

“You did really great tonight, I’m proud of you, Abs.” You said, giving her a smile in return.

“Thanks. I love that you’re always there to cheer me on.” She said as she grabbed your left hand, holding it in both of hers. Your smile only grew wider at the gentle touch.

“What happened to that ego of yours? I was expecting some smart ass response.” You laughed.

“Well,” She laughed, not being able to come up with an excuse, which only made you laugh more. She laughed along with you and she cupped your face gently. She pulled you in for a kiss that started out gentle, your lips barely touching. It soon grew heavier and more passionate, her hand slipping to the back of your neck. You were practically over the center console by now, but you pulled away before she managed to pull you completely into the driver’s seat.

Her freckled cheeks were flushed, her lips were still parted, and her eyes were searching for your lips again. Her hair that was usually neatly braided was now messy, strands falling out and onto her forehead.

“Want to… head into the backseat?” You asked with a smile, motioning your head to the backseat of her truck.

She smiled back, and nodded. The both of you climbed into the backseat and you ended up on top of her, quickly ended up in a heated kiss once again.

Pulling away just slightly she mumbled against your lips “I think it’s your turn to ride, cowgirl.”

tag list : @brackishkittie @nombreuxx @ichokedonmyoreo @homelandofthegods @my-w0-rld @blondehya @bambishaven @elr-ology @abbysgymbro @oceaseaa @idiotuvu-blog @sophsstarsxm @giuliaexe66 @abyssgf @nelzooo @bootyfartsmylove @gays6968 @colbyweirdo @foreingersgod @rougesquadron9 @delusionalvioleht @aouiaa @kisssssessssssyj @sunflowerwinds @burgundyredworld @starlight-savegery @nybueckers @prettybratsworld @madame-grimdark-blog @forgetdisturbance @redcherrytea @prettymuchboodup @h00d-tr4sh @skzhoiic

©k1ssuu’24

[wooahaes]

svt - holding them

pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader

prompt: holding them :)

genre: honestly these are probably mostly hurt/comfort but theres some fluff in here i swear.

warnings: mentions of various stressful situations. comfort for a lot of these. mentioned injury in chan's. mentioned fight + seungkwan being pissed during his (not directed at reader at all). introvert!reader in wonwoo's. alcohol mention in mingyu's. food mentions, often in a vague sense throughout (just mentions of meals--although seokmin's mentions cupcakes for puppies).

daisy's notes: its cozy comfort hours.

choi seungcheol

seungcheol would sometimes just melt into you whenever you held him. you always took it as a sign that he trusted you wholeheartedly, and he meant it in that way and a sign that he loved you with everything that he was.

sometimes he'd be saddled with the brunt of the work in his department, and typically it meant he'd stress over making sure everything was done right. with the addition of a new intern (vernon--you'd met him once when you dropped by to get seungcheol lunch when he was too busy to leave, and he seemed like a nice enough guy), this stress seemed to be two-fold this time around. he'd work later, always telling you to go on and eat dinner without him. he'd always promise that this would be over soon, too: this was one of their busier periods. of course, you knew this by now--you'd been with seungcheol long enough to understand his work--but the honesty was always appreciated.

seungcheol had come home while you were making a cup of tea before bed, and quietly shuffled over to you. without saying anything, he'd already slipped his arms underneath yours to hug you around your chest. your arms curled around his shoulders, and you pulled him in, letting him melt into you again. secure in your arms, he let out a long sigh, face burying into your shoulder--and, for just a moment, you thought he might collapse right then and there. he just stayed there for a few silent minutes longer, before he let go of you, drawing back to look at your face.

you nodded toward your cup of tea. "do you want one?"

and he nodded, already leaning into plant a peck against your lips. "i love you," he mumbled, fully pulling away. you watched the quiet way he disappeared down the hall, the sound of the bedroom door opening a second later.

you'd hold him against once the two of you had finished your tea, and you'd play with his hair the way he liked while he vented whatever frustrations he needed to vent. you always liked holding your love normally, but this?

this felt special. and if he needed you to be a safe haven for him, you were glad to return the favor he always granted you the moment you needed it.

yoon jeonghan

jeonghan always knew that he just had to ask for you to hold him for you to do it. that was why he almost never did: not outright, at least. he'd merely slither his way into your arms, and respond to your soft 'happy?' with a blissful sigh and a 'very.' he liked being held by you sometimes. he knew you found this sense of security in his arms, and he was always happy to say that he found the same with you. curling up in your arms felt like he was home again.

so the first place he wanted to be after exiting his plane was home. as much as he could enjoy getting to see places abroad, he always wished he could bring you along with him. it'd mean that he wouldn't have to share a room with joshua (who he was perfectly fine with: there were few others he'd be so happy to share a room with), and that he could come back from the days of being stuck with other people to see your lovely face before he took you out for sightseeing and dinner. instead he'd just have to do these dates with joshua, always sending you teasing messages about how he was enjoying his time with his 'work boyfriend' (you'd coined it forever ago to tease him, and joshua had found it amusing enough that the two of you jokingly called each other jeonghan's 'other partner'). now he just needed to go through the motions to get home. get his luggage, get a cab, climb the stairs because the elevator was out...

he'd eventually opened the bedroom door to see you asleep. of course you would be: it was late and he told you to not wait up for him due to flight delays. he pulled at his tie, already going through the rest of the motions: suit off (get dry-cleaned later--too tired to care about fucking it up), clothes changed, teeth brushed... collapse into bed next to you.

you'd woken up, jostled by the sudden movement as your sleepy eyes found his in the dark. wordlessly, you opened your arms up to him, and he immediately moved in. welcome home. he pressed kisses against your neck and cheeks, making up for those lost few days for a moment.

"missed you," he mumbled against your skin.

you giggled as you held him tighter. "missed you, too, hannie."

joshua hong

joshua was never afraid to ask you to hold him. tonight was no different.

sometimes it was driven on by that need for physical comfort, but not always. sometimes it would be nights like this: you'd be curled up next to him in bed, talking aimlessly with him about your day since the two of you had barely spoken past a quick meal together before you were getting ready for bed. he'd been drained from work, you had been, too... that left a lot of talk for that melting space between waking and sleep.

"honey?" his eyes found yours in the low light, and you watched the way he stretched an arm back to place his phone back onto the nightstand. "can you just... hold me tonight?"

you obliged with ease. he settled in, shutting his eyes as his arms wrapped around you and squeezed you for just a second--a little 'i love you' without words.

"you can keep talking," he said after a moment. "i'm still listening, i promise."

he relaxed against you as you reached up, playing with his hair as you continued to talk about office drama. nothing too major, thankfully--you were just ready for it to be over and to be coming home at a normal time again. at least the extra pay was nice.

joshua could hear your heart beating. for a moment, he stopped listening to office drama and focused entirely on that. everything would be fine. another long day was just that: a day he managed to get through. everything would be okay if he made it right here, back in your arms and listening to you talk about things that mattered now but might not in a week (that was life, though, wasn't it? a series of moments of caring, even if those moments weren't important in the long run). he played with the hem of your shirt, trying to figure out who you were talking about now.

"hey?" he says quietly. "i love you."

for a moment, you paused. and then he heard you chuckle. "i love you, too, honey."

yeah... things would always be okay if he heard you say that.

wen junhui

jun had settled into your arms maybe twenty minutes ago, and he'd yet to say a word. at this point, you thought he might purr if you kept playing with his hair.

most nights, jun liked holding you. hell, most days jun liked to hold you. he was this soft lovable guy who often found a way to hold you regardless of where the two of you were. in a store? he'd wrap his arms around you from behind, looking at whatever you were looking at (even if you were comparing tomatoes or something). you were cooking because it was your night to cook? well, fine, jun wouldn't help you because you refused it... so he'd simple settle in, arms wrapped around you as he watched you cook. and he'd always pull you into his arms when the two of you settled in to sleep for the night, planting a happy kiss against your neck before snuggling in tight. he was, simply put, a snuggly man.

and you knew that something about his day must have been harder than usual, because he'd settled into your arms first and said nothing. he merely shut his eyes, and held onto you, head resting on your chest while he listened to your heartbeat. you'd seen the way his lips quirked a little when you reached a hand up, playing with his hair as you continued to read a e-book off of your phone. he would talk to you when he was ready to: you knew him well enough.

when you stopped playing with his hair, he looked up. you met his gaze, "you okay?"

he nodded, settling back in. "just missed you today."

and immediately you swore your heart somehow shattered and was put back together within seconds. you sighed. "i thought something was wrong, you goof."

he giggled. "you did? you're so sweet," he planted a tiny peck against your neck. "thank you for worrying, honey."

"yeah, yeah..." you pressed a kiss against the side of his head. "love you, too, you dork."

kwon soonyoung

soonyoung had maybe the worst day of his entire life ever.

he had plans! today was supposed to go well! he didn't have to work, and he was going to meet up with some friends and, y'know, do friend stuff. there was an amusement park that they'd been wanting to go to, and soonyoung had hyped himself up for it... except seungcheol ended up sick (something he'd warned about the night before--something about his partner catching something), and had to drop out. and that had seemed to set off a chain of events. seungkwan ended up having to work because one of his coworkers (the young college kid, seungkwan had said with scorn) called in sick at the last minute (seungkwan said he heard giggling on the other end of the phone--that fucker was absolutely not sick and that fake cough spoke volumes), jeonghan ended up needing to go see his partner about some family issue, jihoon... well. jihoon didn't do anything except point out the weather.

but jihoon had still offered to go out, maybe get lunch with anyone interested in still going. which is why soonyoung was now completely soaked since the two got lunch and parted ways before he was immediately caught in a downpour. plus lunch hadn't even been that good (jihoon's was--he'd let him steal a bite and soonyoung had just powered through his own crummy meal). today was supposed to be fun and now he was standing inside the front door to his apartment, soaked to the bone.

he shut his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before calling out for you. after a minute, you'd come into the room, stopping before immediately turning on your heel to leave. he could hear the bathroom door open, and then the water being started up. he barely saw your face again before you'd thrown a towel over his head, already working to try and dry him off a little.

"baby, why didn't you take your umbrella?"

because it broke. again: worst day of his life, probably. but soonyoung listened to you when you told him to go take a warm shower, that you'd get him some clean clothes and maybe make soup while he was in there. he'd told you not to worry about soup right now.

"can you just... hold me when i get out?"

you agreed easily enough. and when he left the shower, getting dressed again, he found you in the bedroom, curled up and waiting for him. within minutes, he had folded himself into your arms, holding on as he buried his face in your shoulder. you smelled like his cologne, and yet it seemed to comfort him in a weird way. like it was this little reminder that you were here for him still, even after everything went wrong for a while.

today might have been awful... but things felt right now that you were holding him.

jeon wonwoo

wonwoo knew the routine for post-socialization nights. nightly routine (skincare, changing into comfy clothes), and then he would load up whatever game the two of you were going to play to unwind while you scrounged around for snacks. on rarer nights, wonwoo would be the one who would pull together an assortment of snacks--usually because he'd be too tired to game, but would be happy to keep you company. tonight was one of those nights, where wonwoo listened as you loaded up your game on the PS4. he heard the telltale gentle piano opening to the game (who knew such a silly concept like mixing disney with final fantasy could make a game so impactful? wonwoo liked watching you play, though: he knew how important it was to you, and he saw it as a way of learning more about you), and he found himself smiling a little. he knew you well.

when he returned to the couch, you'd already gathered up a few blankets and pillows so the two of you could get fully comfy. these were the perks of dating a fellow introvert, in wonwoo's opinion: the two of you had decided on some sort of "decomposing" ritual for nights like these. when the two of you were just dating, it was usually ice cream or coffee or a nice walk together before parting ways. later it became playing video games online with one another, and now it was playing them together and cuddling.

with snacks in hand, wonwoo sat down next to you, watching as you curled up at one end of the couch. without saying anything, all you had to do was glance at him before you opened yourself up so that he could lay in your arms. you'd hold the controller out in front of him, adjusting your position as needed so that you could comfortably play (you'd left off somewhere in the aladdin-based world). he would offer up food to you, and sometimes you'd accept.

the two of you made it work. and wonwoo subtly smiled to himself as he cuddled closer to you, only pulling away to put the empty bowl ont he coffee table. he'd turn over, too, and lay atop you, snuggling in happily as he watched you play.

"happy?" you mused aloud, not taking your eyes off the screen.

"mhm." he nuzzled his head against your chest, smiling a little more now. "so... can you explain what we're doing again?"

he heard the way you chuckled. "we're looking for aladdin right now."

"again? i thought that was the first game."

another warm chuckle, deep in your chest. "yeah," you shifted, just to keep wonwoo close to you. "again."

lee jihoon

jihoon wasn't always one for skinship. this was something you knew: it was reserved for people he was close with, and for people who didn't use it as an excuse to baby him in any way. you'd seen the way his friend, seokmin, liked to teasingly (attempt) kiss him on the cheek and the way he'd always lean away, pretending to act grumpy while his smile always broke through a little. and with you, he'd always been open to little things in public like holding your hand or the occasional hug when it was cold out and you were seeking warmth. hell, sometimes he'd keep an arm loosely around you in public when you were in a crowded space. a tiny symbol that the two of you were linked together, but in a way that minimized the space you were taking up as you entered one another's bubble.

at home, though, things were different. jihoon wasn't afraid to ask for a hug or to be held if he needed it. and sometimes, after particularly stressful days, he needed it.

"honey?" his voice was always quiet, as if to keep this moment between the two of you alone. he'd always drop a 'honey' or 'love' too, as if to sweeten the deal (or maybe it was his way of telegraphing it to you: this is a sign i need something more intimate...). "can you hold me?"

he'd always ask, no matter how long the two of you had been dating. it was his way of telling you that his day had been rough without outright saying it. you'd maybe said 'no' once or twice due to awful timing: you'd been sick both times and didn't want to risk him catching whatever you had, but he'd understood easily enough... and you'd later get a picture from his roommate, soonyoung, 'stealing your man' (his way of saying not to worry: he was taking care of him). but your 'yes' came easily, and you'd readjusted in your position on the couch for him to essentially lay on you, cuddling into your arms.

"do you want to talk about it?" you asked once he'd settled in.

he shook his head. "maybe later. just... hold me for a bit first."

and you always would, snuggling together like you were each other's perfect fit.

lee seokmin

seokmin loved holding you... but he loved being held by you, too. never ask him to pick which one, because he would refuse every single time: there's too many pros and cons to both for him to pick between the options. therefore, seokmin just... liked holding. was that weird to say? he wasn't sure: regardless of who was doing said holding, he would always be happy.

which was why he was happy as you wrapped your arms around him from behind while he was on the phone with seungkwan, trying to coordinate a surprise party for another "special" friend. the party planning had been stressful (you told seokmin that bookkeu was a dog, he would be happy regardless of what seungkwan did for him, and then seungkwan stopped talking to you for a week until you apologized and said that you only meant it as a 'please don't let him lose sleep over this' deal), and just being in your arms helped plenty. was it maybe a little silly to get this worked up over coordinating a surprise party for a literal dog? maybe. but seungkwan had been excited over throwing a birthday party for his dog (bookkeu was a beloved member of the family, after all), and seokmin had grown a little excited over making doggy cupcakes... life was simply too short to not embrace things like this.

seokmin looked over his shoulder at you with a quiet "hi, honey," before he went back to talking about saying something about how the paw print mold was on its way so he could decorate the cupcakes with them. before you could draw back, he caught your wrist, pulling you back in so that you were still firmly pressed against his back. he pulled your wrist up so he could press a tiny peck against the inside of it, swaying happily with your arms still firmly around him.

the moment his phone call was over, he shoved his phone into his pocket and turned to face you. "hi," he giggled. "we're excited."

"i can tell," you smiled back, running a hand through his hair. "you sound excited."

"they're pupcakes," he said, pulling you in closer. "aren't you excited?"

for seokmin? you'd be excited over anything just to share in that joy alongside him.

kim mingyu

mingyu dragged himself into your bedroom, each step seemingly heavier than the last. you looked up from your book to see utter exhaustion on his face, and immediately set it aside.

"gyu--"

"drank too much," he mumbled as he all but collapsed onto his side of the bed. "cheol's fault..."

the cute way he was pouting now earned a giggle from you. of course it was him out drinking with seungcheol that ended with your pouty boyfriend all tired and maybe feeling a little sick. you crawled over, pulling at his shoulders. he gave in with ease, rolling onto his back as he rest his head in your lap, eyes falling shut as you began to play with his hair.

"did you drink water?" you asked. he nodded, leaning further into your touch. "i'll get another glass in a few minutes."

he shook his head. "can you... can you hold me first?"

of course you would. he stayed in your lap a little longer, too in love with the way you were playing with his hair until he turned over. rather than letting you move, he just crawled up, resting his head on your chest as he basically crushed you underneath him. you adjusted as best as you could, wrapping your arms around him, fingers still running through his hair. you could feel his smile through the thin fabric of your shirt, his arms wrapping around you after a moment.

"love you," he mumbled, turning his face so that he could press a kiss against your chest. "love you," he mumbled again.

you managed to plant a peck against the side of his head. "love you, too, mingyu."

xu minghao

minghao, simply put, preferred caring for you. there was something tender about being able to dote on his beloved whenever he could. it wasn't as though he hid his bad days from you--the two of you lived together now, that wasn't exactly an option, and not one he was ever fond of except for the very early days of you two dating (and even then, he was always mature enough to say he was having a rough day and he'd talk to you later in a way of asking for space). but from the moment he woke up this morning, something was... off.

so when he finally came home to you after work and meditating in the park, he gave in. "today was hard," he simply said as he was hanging up his jacket. "do you mind holding me for a little while?"

angel that you were, you never minded. minghao always knew he could come home and nuzzle into your open arms whenever he needed to be cared for. he'd always crawl into them, burrowing his face in your neck. he could smell your favorite body spray clinging to your skin, and it felt like home. you, too, felt like home... but that was because you were home.

something within him just... broke. maybe it was stress, or maybe he'd been holding himself together for far too long without relief. one moment he was fine, and the next he was tearing up for reasons he'd never be able to piece together. he buried his face further into your neck, holding onto you tight as he let himself cry (because you would always let him cry if he needed to--you were safe, you were home).

"oh, hao..." your voice was quiet, but he could feel the slight rumble in your chest from how close his body was pressed against yours. "it's okay." you traced circles onto his back. "just let it out, love. i'm here."

you were here. home. and he held onto you tighter, safe to come undone within your loving embrace.

boo seungkwan

seungkwan was mad. very mad. you could hear the front door slam from your curled-up position in bed, and that meant something went very wrong with whatever hang-out he had arranged with his friends. a few seconds later, you heard the bathroom door slam, and then open and close normally a minute later. before you knew it, seungkwan had thrown open the door and immediately apologized--to both you and the door for being so angry. he closed it with a restrained anger, and made his way over to bed.

"seungkwan?" you called to him quietly, watching him curl up tighter. "c'mere."

and he did. without hesitation, he turned over and moved into your arms, because that was one of the places he found calmed him the most. he let you hold him, and he shut his eyes, taking slow breaths as he curled up closer to you.

"you wanna talk about it?"

"in a minute." his fingers dug into your skin, and he pulled himself closer to you. and then he resumed his breathing, willing himself to calm down even further before he even thought about ranting to you.

"did something happen?"

he nodded. "i'll apologize later," he huffed. "after he apologizes first."

oh. ouch. you felt your phone buzz on the mattress beside you. no doubt it was someone trying to give you some kind of heads up (or maybe even an inkling of what had happened--probably vernon or jeonghan). you just started to knead at his back, feeling the way seungkwan further relaxed against you.

"i'm sorry," he mumbled softly. "did i scare you when i came in...?"

"a little, but it's okay," you said. "you're upset. did you guys get to have dinner?"

he shook his head.

"well," you pushed him back by the shoulders, just enough that you could look into his eyes. "let's order dinner and eat together... and then i can hold you again while you tell me what happened."

seungkwan leaned in, pressing a quick peck against your lips. "thank you," he said. "i love you."

"love you, too, kwannie."

chwe vernon

"hey. can you hold me for a bit? i'm kinda cold."

vernon was the king of unsubtle. it was hot out. hell, it was kind of warm in your apartment. the only colder room was your bedroom, and that was because the window A/C unit was in there. he was just watching a movie with you, no blankets because the two of you were warm enough. and now he was looking at you with this cute smile on his face, as if he couldn't just ask you to hold him because he wanted to be held. like he needed to go on some secret mission to get what he wanted.

"dude, you're wearing a hoodie."

never had you seen him strip it off so quickly, turning to you. "can you hold me now?"

ah. he knew this was becoming a little game. "you're already cold?"

"yep. freezing. need ya."

you rolled your eyes, and opened your arms to him. he happily shifted so that he could rest, back against your chest, and you could see that gummy smile as he cuddled in. again: the king of being unsubtle. he'd snuggled in a little further, hands coming up to hold onto your arms as he dragged his thumbs against your skin.

barely ten minutes later, and he peeked up at your face. "babe."

ah. the term of endearment. you knew what was coming next. "nope."

"i forgot you're like your own heater!"

"and now you're stuck here like my teddy bear," you held him a little tighter. "live with it, chwe."

(he would. for the rest of his life, if you'd let him.)

lee chan

"i told you, i'm fine!"

despite the elevated ankle, chan had been trying to convince you of this for the past twenty minutes. it was just a little sprain that the doctor said he needed to stay off of as much as he could. just a little one. he'd be fine by the end of the week, he was positive. even among his bickering with you, you'd moved around your shared bedroom, arranging things so that chan wouldn't have to worry too much. you'd elevated his ankle, made sure that the wrapping was still secure, and kept his crutches within reach in case he needed them.

("just a 'little' sprain" your ass--he'd teared up on you for a minute because of how bad it hurt, and even then he kept insisting he'd walk it off.)

"channie," you pouted at him. "i'm gonna take care of you, alright?"

he only pouted at you in return. "i don't need you to take care of me--it's just a sprain. i've been through worse--"

"that doesn't mean you need to neglect yourself this time!" you huffed, and crawled in from the other side of the bed.

before he could complain further, you pulled him over and into your arms, mindful of his ankle. you linked your arms around him, holding onto him tight before he could try to escape again because he noticed that the dishes needed doing and you were the one who cooked this morning, so it was only fair for him to do them. he'd tried to argue that he'd just be leaning against the counter, he could still help.

despite his sulking, you noticed the way he snuggled into your arms. "you're cheating."

"not my fault you love me so much."

"isn't it?" a tinge of amusement lined his voice, and you found yourself smiling a little, too. "you're the one who made me fall for you."

"you're the one who fell for me, you dork."

"literally--"

and among your vocalized complaints, he just laughed again and pulled one of your hands up so he could kiss the back of it. fine. he'd rest... for now.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @gyulbabie

[kaciidubs]

Binnie's Baby Bun

❣ Summary: Ever since you announced your pregnancy to your husband, his loving treatment skyrocketed to lengths you never believed were possible. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 797 ❣ Warnings: Husband! Changbin, Pregnant! Reader, pregnancy [early stages], fluff, light implied smut, baby bumps, overall cuteness ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Changbin is referred to as Hubby, Bin, and Binnie, Reader is referred to as Bun, and Bunny ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Ever since you announced your pregnancy to your husband, his loving treatment skyrocketed to lengths you never believed were possible.

Changbin was a lover, he was a supporter, he was a protector, but he was also the softest, kindest, and most careful man you had ever met, and those were just a few of the traits that convinced you that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

The days after you revealed your pregnancy, he treated you like you were a goddess walking among men; you would’ve thought he was your living servant the way he offered to do everything - and I mean everything - for you.

Not like he didn’t do it already, that is.

The first handful of weeks were met with extra kisses here and there, extra check-ins so he could have a clearer gauge on your comfort, and small things like extra snacks finding their way into your pantry.

But, when your stomach slowly began to grow and the first hints of your baby bump began to show, Binnie mode was in full swing.

Almost every morning you were guaranteed a kiss on the lips, cheek, or forehead, and an extra kiss to the small swell of your belly, paired with a whispered “Good morning, baby.”

Whenever you were together he would always, always, manage to keep a hand on your stomach - if you allowed him, of course - and if he couldn’t keep you close by, he’d always make sure to take a quick ‘baby bump break’ to saddle up beside you and rest the palm of his hand over your belly button.

“Bin, if you’re like this when I’m barely showing, I can only imagine how you’ll be when I'm in full watermelon mode.”

You sat partially sprawled out on the couch of his recording studio, the pillow you were previously laying on now replaced with Changbin’s lap, and his arm reaching down your body to rest his hand over the top of your stomach.

He laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, “That’s why you have to get used to how I am now, Bun! I know baby bun will.”

“Baby bun?” You hummed, tilting your head to get a better look at him, “So you’re hoping for a girl?”

He shook his head, “Baby bun is just baby bun - girl, boy, I don’t care, as long as they’re healthy and you’re healthy that’s all that matters to me.”

Fresh tears stung at your eyes and you had to fight to push them away, blaming the increased hormones in your body for your sudden sensitivity to his sentiments.

“Alright, break time’s over!” Announcing his leave with his usual loud voice, he helped you get comfortable again before bending down to your eye-level, “Another hour or two and I’ll be done, then we can go get some dinner, deal?”

Smiling, you nodded happily, “Baby bun and I think that’s a great deal.”

Furthermore, in the midst of all of his soft, adoring moments, there were also moments of warm, tender love that had you overwhelmed in the best of ways.

Moments where he would watch you do your nightly routine; silently observing the way his shirt would ride up with each of your movements, revealing a sliver of the bump he would never get enough of, urging him to stand behind you and snake his arms around your waist.

You smiled tiredly at his reflection in the mirror, rubbing the remaining moisturizer onto your cheeks, “Hi, hubby.”

“Hi, bunny,” he replied in kind, pressing a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

Melting into his touch with a gentle sigh, you tilted your head to give him more access, your hands going to encompass his own resting yet again over your bump. “Binnie… What are you up to?”

His arms held you a bit tighter, his lips making a path up your neck and brushing against a spot he knew all too well, “Just appreciating you…”

“Hm, yeah, I can tell.” You shifted your hips, fully aware of the bulge filling his boxer briefs, “You appreciate me that much, yeah?”

Nipping at your skin, his eyes met yours in the mirror, his heard gaze sending a chill of excitement down your spine.

“Can I appreciate you more?”

“Right now?” You mused, lacing your fingers through his, “Right here?”

A low hum vibrated through him as he took you in, the scenario so familiar yet so, so different in numerous ways; you were no longer his girlfriend, no longer his fiancee, no longer just his wife, but his wife and soon-to-be mother of his child.

“Right now,” he confirmed, firm and sure, loving and supportive, soft and kind, “right here.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @bandolls, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @sunnyhonie, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @all4innie, @dancerachaslut

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[ceeplays]

Favorite Mods for Better Pets:

...aaand I'm back! ☀︎ It's been such a busy summer for me, but I've been wanting to post this list for several weeks now. So happy I'm finally getting the chance to sit down and put this together for y'all. One aspect of the game I'm always looking to improve with mods and cc is our sims pets, and now with the addition of horses, even more so. So, here's a list of my favorite mods and cc for all animals in the game (there's even a mod for your bees!). As always, thanks to all the creators and I hope you all enjoy.

More info and download links below the cut.

Gameplay Mods:

Selectable Pets by CharityCodes

Bathe Pets in Sink by Szemoka

Pet Care Activities by @adeepindigo

My Pets by @littlemssam

Anti-Fear Training for Pets by @littlemssam

Better Farm Animals by @littlemssam

Better Saddle Control by @littlemssam

Calm Bees by @littlemssam

Check Horse Skills by @littlemssam

Check Pets Needs by @littlemssam

Dog Walking Service by @littlemssam

Go For A Walk With Cats by @littlemssam

Go For A Walk With More Pets by @littlemssam

Kids Go For A Walk With Dogs by @littlemssam

Lead Horse by @littlemssam

Longer Pet Naps by @littlemssam

No Spoiling Dried Animal Food by @littlemssam

Special Paddock Gate by @littlemssam

Boarding Stable Lot Trait by Flauschtrud

Animal Shelter Lot Trait by KiaraSims4Mods

Default Replacements/Overrides:

Pequichor Horse Eyes by @rheallsim

Mirror Mirror Horse Eyes by @doptera-ts4

Dolce Eyes for All Animals by @wrixie

Under Your Spell Horse Ranch Animal Eyes by @incandescentsims

Daydreamin' Horse Ranch Animal Eyes by @nolan-sims

Smaller Eyes + Eye Geom Fix for Horses by @objuct

Goat Retexture by @blue-ancolia

Rabbit Retexture by @blue-ancolia

Horse Skin by @minervamagicka

Horse Skin by @nesurii

Adoption Pet Carrier Override by @largetaytertots

Pet Leash Override by @largetaytertots

Pet Leash Override by @diabolicalsims

Pet Treats Override by @diabolicalsims

Pet Brush Override by @diabolicalsims

Horse Trailer Made Functional by SassandFreckles

BUILD/BUY Favorites:

Animal Shed Recolors by @beansbuilds

Horse Food Bags by @cath-cc

Horse Countdown Set by @objuct

Cottage Dreams Collection by @miikocc

Toddler Pillow Pet Beds by @diabolicalsims

Pet Toys by @diabolicalsims

Vet Waiting Room Magazines by @diabolicalsims

The Petit Cheval Set by @syboubou

Veterinary Clinic Set by @syboubou

Ultimutt Indoor Potty Pad by @ravasheencc

Muttropolitan Pet Clutter by @ravasheencc

Purrfect Pet Clutter by @ravasheencc

Meowdern Pet Clutter by @ravasheencc

Carousel Cat Bed by @pixelvibes

Chicken Cat Bed by @pixelvibes

Paw Love by @leosims4cc

Western Set by @leosims4cc

Natural Colored Horse Balls by SassandFreckles

CAS Favorites:

Stuff for Dapper Dogs by @sforzcc

Stuff for Cranky Cats by @sforzcc

Service Cat Vest by Sturmfalke

Service Dog Vest by Sturmfalke

--

The end! ♡

[mccoyquialisms]

More bits from the 1st night of the London D20 live show that brought me joy:

The little “ooooohhhhHHHH” bit everyone in the atrium did as they were rolling the bingo cages for their characters

How NUTS everyone went when Lou got Fabian and everyone started chanting “hoot growl”

A second, just as loud cheer when Siobhan got Adaine and her and Lou ran around the stage together

Siobhan, unprompted: “GIVE ADAINE A GUN!”

Emily has apparently named a stray cat after Plug <3

Sydney straight up eating the ground (it’s ice cream, she’s fine. Sort of.)

“It’s a smell so counter to everything human life needs, in a way that almost kills you, but also, only in a way someone from New York can understand, makes you proud.”

The party refusing to call the candy wyverns anything other than “bugs”

Zac interrupting the ongoing banter to announce Skip is already boarded and sucking on the saddle of the wyvern

“I throw a flash grenade.” “I turn into a giant pigeon.” “I cast unseen servant to untie him.” “I shoot a guard.” “Okay, so everyone decides to do something SUPER SUBTLE.”

I mentioned it before but it’s SO good: “the DC is 500. Only a Nat 20 will do it.” Beardsley: [rolls a Nat 20 first try] [pandemonium in the arena]

“Have you seen Succession?”

The gabagool 🤌

“Adaine, we have saved the world multiple times. These are the scariest people we have ever met.”

Lou losing it at Sydney’s grenade having 1 point of poison damage in addition to all the bludgeoning damage

Skip gives Fabian a laser gun. He does not know what it is until he shoots Calroy with it

“Adaine, this gun thing you’re on? I get it.”

Cocaine Bear

“I YEETED YOU!”

Pete and Skip instant besties. Pete and Fabian instant enemies.

“You named him Anus and now I just have to do it the rest of the show!”

“I absolutely hate to add insult to injury…” “THEN DON’T!”

Adaine passing her wisdom save by 1 point to prevent Kugrash’s polymorph spell from turning her into a rat

The absolute ROAR that went up when Skip transformed into Lapin

“Anus?” “Not today.” “Not today WHAT?”

“I thought I was just on another planet starting a revolution I don’t intend to stick around for.” “America!”

Ally confidentially declaring Lapin and Aguefort have swinger vibes

“Do you want to just take him?” “Do you mean in the biblical sense?” “Another exciting use….”

[croaky voice] butterfly in the skyyyy

Pete opening 6 different flavors of seltzer while the rest of the party does kublacaine

Elaine Lee in the house!!!

Kugrash the greatest chaperone who ever lived

Lapin and Aguefort…and they were roommates…..Lapin’s “how do I look?” before they go into the egg fortress lmao

Syd’s perfume missile dealing 68 points of damage to Fabian and instantly knocking him unconscious. “Are you rolling D20s for damage???”

“I’m going to use my tides of chaos to reroll….worse.”

Tina the butterfly familiar that everyone totally remembers

“Well shit, any house where we kill the people in it becomes our house.”

Pete dissing Fabian so hard he feels the toxic masculinity coming back

Lapin requesting an exam extension for Adaine and Fabian from Arthur via dating app

The collective psychic damage everyone took from the “yar har har” scene

“Pete just starts dancing with a scarf in a way no one else has seen before.” “That’s my fucking thing!!!”

Sydney just enabling every pvp encounter alsdkghsdg. Giving Fabian unlimited capacity to his gun as he’s shooting Pete, with Fabian hitting twice and criting once.

“I can pleasure you or throw grenades, you gotta pick one.” “The first one, obviously!” “Okay!”

Lapin, Adaine and Kugrash chain smoking in the corner suffering through the pain of existence while the rest of party goes nuts around them

Murph incorporating the words “come/coming” as much as possible into Kugrash’s farewell speech while Brennan mimes Gilear’s enormous dick behind him. Not even Fabian’s battle sheet is enough to conceal that hog

“That’s right, I’m the king. And then I jump into the dumpster.”

GILEAR…MY…..OLD FRIEND………Aguefort and Gilear fwb real

“Not another person with their penis frozen to the walk in!”

[autotopic]

1938 Mercedes-Benz W154

In September 1936, the AIACR (Association Internationale des Automobile Clubs Reconnus), the governing body of motor racing, set the new Grand Prix regulations effective from 1938. Key stipulations included a maximum engine displacement of three liters for supercharged engines and 4.5 liters for naturally aspirated engines, with a minimum car weight ranging from 400 to 850 kilograms, depending on engine size.

By the end of the 1937 season, Mercedes-Benz engineers were already hard at work developing the new W154, exploring various ideas, including a naturally aspirated engine with a W24 configuration, a rear-mounted engine, direct fuel injection, and fully streamlined bodies. Ultimately, due to heat management considerations, they opted for an in-house developed 60-degree V12 engine designed by Albert Heess. This engine mirrored the displacement characteristics of the 1924 supercharged two-liter M 2 L 8 engine, with each of its 12 cylinders displacing 250 cc. Using glycol as a coolant allowed temperatures to reach up to 125°C. The engine featured four overhead camshafts operating 48 valves via forked rocker arms, with three cylinders combined under welded coolant jackets, and non-removable heads. It had a high-capacity lubrication system, circulating 100 liters of oil per minute, and initially utilized two single-stage superchargers, later replaced by a more efficient two-stage supercharger in 1939.

The first prototype engine ran on the test bench in January 1938, and by February 7, it had achieved a nearly trouble-free test run, producing 427 hp (314 kW) at 8,000 rpm. During the first half of the season, drivers such as Caracciola, Lang, von Brauchitsch, and Seaman had access to 430 hp (316 kW), which later increased to over 468 hp (344 kW). At the Reims circuit, Hermann Lang's W154 was equipped with the most powerful version, delivering 474 hp (349 kW) and reaching 283 km/h (176 mph) on the straights. Notably, the W154 was the first Mercedes-Benz racing car to feature a five-speed gearbox.

Max Wagner, tasked with designing the suspension, had an easier job than his counterparts working on the engine. He retained much of the advanced chassis architecture from the previous year's W125 but enhanced the torsional rigidity of the frame by 30 percent. The V12 engine was mounted low and at an angle, with the carburetor air intakes extending through the expanded radiator grille.

The driver sat to the right of the propeller shaft, and the W154's sleek body sat close to the ground, lower than the tops of its tires. This design gave the car a dynamic appearance and a low center of gravity. Both Manfred von Brauchitsch and Richard Seaman, whose technical insights were highly valued by Chief Engineer Rudolf Uhlenhaut, praised the car's excellent handling.

The W154 became the most successful Silver Arrow of its era. Rudolf Caracciola secured the 1938 European Championship title (as the World Championship did not yet exist), and the W154 won three of the four Grand Prix races that counted towards the championship.

To ensure proper weight distribution, a saddle tank was installed above the driver's legs. In 1939, the addition of a two-stage supercharger boosted the V12 engine, now named the M163, to 483 hp (355 kW) at 7,800 rpm. Despite the AIACR's efforts to curb the speed of Grand Prix cars, the new three-liter formula cars matched the lap times of the 1937 750-kg formula cars, demonstrating that their attempt was largely unsuccessful. Over the winter of 1938-39, the W154 saw several refinements, including a higher cowl line around the cockpit for improved driver safety and a small, streamlined instrument panel mounted to the saddle tank. As per Uhlenhaut’s philosophy, only essential information was displayed, centered around a large tachometer flanked by water and oil temperature gauges, ensuring the driver wasn't overwhelmed by unnecessary data.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1970 Chrysler 300 Hurst

One of the great unknowns about the 1970 Chrysler 300 Hurst is exactly how many cars were built. Estimates put the total as low as 485, and as high as 502 cars. Regardless of what the figure actually is, the car itself is a pretty special piece of machinery.

The 300 Hurst is a giant of a car at 19′ in length. All of the Hursts rolled off the production line finished in Spinnaker White. The cars were then shipped to the Hurst factory in Warminster, Pennsylvania, where a substantial transformation was performed. The first change to be made was the removal of the standard Chrysler steel hood skin, which was replaced with a fiberglass unit. This featured a decorative hood scoop and the obligatory set of recessed hood locks. The deck lid was also removed, and once again, a fiberglass replacement, complete with a spoiler integrated with the rear quarter panels, was also installed. The White paintwork was complimented by the addition of Satin Tan highlights and contrasting pinstripes, and the wheels were adorned with the same Satin Tan color in the centers. This Hurst is a clean car, with a small area of rust visible in the lower section of the driver’s side front fender, and surface corrosion present on the car’s underside. The Spinnaker White paint appears to be in good condition, but there has been some deterioration of the Satin Tan paint on both the hood and the deck lid. The exterior trim and chrome all look good, while the tinted glass is close to perfect.

The 300 Hurst was a premium car at a premium price, so naturally, it required a premium interior. In this case, seat upholstery was available in a single type and color. Continuing the exterior theme, the color is Saddle Tan, and the material is leather. The plush front seats are not standard 300 items but have been pilfered from the Imperial parts bin. While the original intention was for a Hurst shifter to be part of the interior features, this is something that never eventuated. The interior of this Hurst is close to perfect, with a single discolored spot on the dash pad being the most obvious fault. The rest of it presents in virtually as-new condition, and as befits a luxury car, it is loaded with luxury touches. These include air conditioning, power windows, six-way power seats, cruise control, a remote trunk release, and I think that there also might be an 8-track player hanging under the dash.

The 300 Hurst was the biggest of the muscle cars, and as such, it needed a big motor to get it moving. In this case, it is the TNT 440 engine, pumping out 375hp. The Hurst also features a 727 TorqueFlite transmission, a 3.23 rear end, power steering, power brakes, heavy-duty rear springs and front torsion bars, and sway bars. The exhaust was a full dual system, ending in quad tips. This Hurst hasn’t seen a lot of recent use, and documentation confirms that between 1986 and 2019, it managed to accumulate a grand total of 20 miles! Since being removed from its climate-controlled storage, it has undergone a meticulous mechanical check and recommissioning, and it is now said to run and drive perfectly. The owner does suggest that while the tires look good, they are pretty olds, and replacing them might be a good idea. He also says that the Hurst may need mufflers fairly soon. The car does come with a fair collection of documentation, including the original Build Sheet and Window Sticker, a pristine Certi-Card, Owner’s Manual, as well as dealer paperwork and other assorted items.

While there has always been some question surrounding the build totals for the 1970 300 Hurst, one thing is certain, and that is that there are less than 300 cars in existence today. Pristine examples can fetch sums in excess of $30,000, and even a rough example in need of restoration can still sell for anywhere around $13,000. This one doesn’t need a major restoration, but it does require some cosmetic work. I’m not sure where bidding is eventually going to go with this one, but I would suspect that it will be somewhere around the low to mid $20,000 mark. Even at that price, it probably wouldn’t be a bad buy.

[x-populuxe]

Rating: Explicit Fandom: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) Relationship: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier Characters: Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier Additional Tags: Bodyswap, Power Swap, Gay Mutant Road Trip, Telepathy, Alcohol, Smoking, See notes for bodyswap-specific warning Words: 16,806 Summary: He wiggles a set of sturdy, blunt fingers that he unfortunately knows all too well, and then he raises his other hand and wiggles those sturdy, blunt fingers, too. They’re his hands—he’s making them move, and he can feel them moving—but they’re obviously not his hands. “For God’s sake, Erik,” his doppelgänger snaps. He points to the mirror above the fireplace. “Stand up and properly look.” A few weeks into their mutant-collecting road trip, Charles and Erik approach a boy with a very special mutation—who subsequently turns his abilities on them. Trapped in each others’ bodies (and saddled with each others’ powers), it seems like an inconvenience at first, but it will have consequences neither of them could have predicted.

Back in the spring, @bronzeagepizzeria put together a great prompt list for the "Revive Cherik" event that included BODYSWAPPING, a trope I have always loved. So I set aside my five simultaneous WIPs thinking I could knock off a quick fun bodyswap fic set during the Gay Mutant Road Trip and....well, it's October 25th. It's finished though! Let's say it's now seasonal. 🎃

This is the first explicit fic I've ever posted (!) and it's also got a content warning about the circumstances of (some of) that explicitness. If you're interested, please see the notes—up top for the basics, at the end for more (spoilery) details. And thanks again to my beta extraordinaire @1degosuperego for encouraging my attempts at explicit scenes, and especially for helping me sort out the chaos of two bodyswapped "he"s lol. It's all very confusing for them, too!

[i-rate-horse-games]

rating Bella Sara 2!

they let sara almost T-pose on the box art !! look at that!!

bella sara 2 is much better than the first game! you're back in the same magical world of bella sara, but this time as a humanoid! the first thing you do in this wondrous world is learn how to walk from sara, a goddess, maybe the goddess. the Drasilmare, a giant magical tree, is sick and dying, and without it, people and horses won't be able to talk to each other anymore! your mission is to collect magical lights from all around the world in order to heal the tree.

bella grants you a horse to help you get around faster, and the horse creator already has all the coat color options unlocked, so you can immediately recreate your horse from the last game if you'd like! however several people that you talk to while on horseback will only address you and not your loyal steed, and with the addition of so many People there's a lot fewer horses in this game than the last.

instead of getting a random handful of cosmetics when completing quests like in the last game, you now get to collect magic crystals everywhere you go, which you can exchange for the cosmetics of your choice! these crystals are Bountiful and there is no shortage of them by far.

the biggest difference in this game is that there's now platforming! while in human form, you can use your magic Drasilmare wand to rebuild piles of rubble, activate levers, reveal hidden objects, and unveil secret extending bridges. sara eventually gives you the ability to double jump, which is very fun. it also makes it easier to accidentally sequence break because the devs forgot they let you change directions mid jump!

the player character is so silly! her joyous whimsy has captivated me. with the way everyone gently helps her get to the right places and solve the puzzles, it really feels like she's a newborn goddess and the only one unable to teleport, and sara and the others have orchestrated this entire quest to be easily solvable for her to build her confidence & let her explore her sense of self at the same time. instead of running, she frolics! She Should Be In The Field!

speaking of all the people characters, this game has penny!!

i don't know who she is but look at that outfit!! rainbow skirt and little rainbows on the sleeves and Blue Striped Socks!? i love her

she's never been in the secret room?? Ever??? is this not her castle??? come with me!!! see the room!!!!

good for her!! she got to see it!!! good for her!

when you restore the last light and the tree is fully healed, this is all that happens.

there's not even a fancy cutscene or special music or anything at all, deru just says you get to wander in search of fashion forever and ever and then it's just you on your horse standing by the tree and the sounds of nature. feels a little hollow, all that work and you don't even get a congratulations from bella or anything. oh well! there's still lots of gems to find hidden all around the world! it shows you what percentage of completion you're at in the main menu, and after completing the game i still have 27% left to find.

check that out! if you wear a dress you ride sidesaddle! except there is no saddle and it looks very precarious!

this godly child started to strongly remind me of Nona the Ninth so i made fanart c: don't look at the horse anatomy too long i didn't use any references

there's a lot more Game here than compared to the last one! it took me 3 different sittings to complete it, and that's without any laid-back exploring that its intended audience often enjoys, so i do think there's enough gameplay in this game! however, there are not very many horses. i like the platforming but it seems like they decided you can only platform if you're a human, and i would have loved doing some platforming as a horse. also in the character creator the model for the human is exactly the same for every skin color except the darkest one where they changed the lips & out of 42 votes, as of writing this only 5 people answered "is this racist" with "no". "i'm not sure" is winning at 50% and "yes" is at 38.1%, so that might be Something.

i'm rating this game 3.5 out of 5 stars!

★★★✬☆

you know i had a great time when i made multiple gifs C:

here's some bonus mid-game commentary to enjoy!

you still cant be a boy but you can jump your full height without a running start. while grunting! you can only walk in a frolicing sort of way it lets you take your shoes off!!!! the giant tree is sick but Deru is still putting its magic in my new wand?? won't that make the tree sicker??? this tree is what lets humans and horses talk to each other!?!?!?? bella said Race to the tree!!!!! and we got there with 2 whole minutes to spare. this game feels like the player character is the goddesses' newborn child (born straight to teenager form like in pixie hollow) and they set up a fun little quest for them to solve all on their own!! wow!!<3 but it's just running around to different adults who are all doing things like "i need the Sponge to clean the table before dinner, but i can't find it! help me find the sponge to save dinner!!" and the sponge is precisely placed at the kid's level of eyesight you now need currency to unlock things most of the horses are ignoring my loyal steed as if they are only an extension of myself another 3 minutes to take a short path that takes less than 30 seconds to walk a horse took a piece of this star? gasp! oh it was just honora also trying to find all the pieces. the one horse who didn't get the memo that this is My Big Quest it just introduced a fair bit of platforming! cool wow ive been playing for hours and it says I'm only halfway through! there's a mode where your person walks the runway oops I got through somewhere i wasn't supposed to be able to get through yet by using my ability to change directions mid jump where are people learning the bella sara lore??? are they hidden in rare cards? are there books??? was it all in the website game that i got stuck in? ah I've beat the game but there's still 27% of gems out there to find

[purehypnotic]

can i kindly req for arthur morgan hcs,, he falls in love with reader?? -🩷

thank you SO SO much for this request !! it’s our pleasure, love you! hope we did you justice

🧸🏜 arthur morgan x reader, falling in love HCs 🏜🧸

gender neutral, sfw

𖤓⋆｡° ✮ 𓄀⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 𖤓⋆｡° ✮ 𓄀⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 𖤓⋆｡° ✮ 𓄀⋆⭒˚｡

-Arthur slumped in his seat near the bar, thumbing a chipped glass of whiskey. The sun was beating down mercilessly on Valentine, and Arthur found relief in the shade of the saloon.

-until he saw your body fling across the window outside.

-ever the good samaritan, Arthur scrambled to check on you. He tripped on his own feet to rush and survey the situation, expecting the worst reasons as to why you would be thrown so harshly.

-His hand flew to his mouth to stifle a chuckle when he saw a riderless horse and your ankle tangled up in the reins.

-Arthur bit back a smartass comment as he went to help you up, when a few things about you caught his eye.

-first, your outfit was buttoned wrong, as if you had rushed to throw something on.

-second, you weren’t wearing spurs (who the hell doesn’t wear spurs around here?)

-and third, you flinched like a feral cat when he hauled you up by the waist. Arthur had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on.

-“You don’t know how to ride a horse, do ya now?” He squinted at you.

-You lifted a finger to the man’s face, ready to spit back at the accusation when you locked eyes with him.

-Something in his gaze told you he wasn’t trying to belittle you, just offering a hand.

-Lowering your hand, you let out a sigh of frustration. You had run for so long, had fought with everything you had, but still couldn’t figure out how to mount a damn horse. But the blue eyed man in front of you seemed like he knew. He seemed sturdy, reliable, and you had given up all dignity when you caught yourself nearly drooling over his build.

-Grabbing the reins of the horse, you hung your head and held them out to Arthur’s chest.

-”just help please”

-He explained each piece of equipment, showed you how to approach the pony without spooking it, and he found himself laughing when you struggled to jump atop the saddle.

-He offered you a boost, letting his hands linger on you for a bit longer than necessary. You let out a laugh of victory, and the pure joy on your face knocked the breath from Arthur’s lungs.

-With the rush of his racing heart, Arthur impulsively hauled himself up behind you.

-”This alright?” He asked in a low voice as he reached around you to grab the reins. He adjusted himself so he could speak closer to your ear, and his movement caused your back to press into his chest.

-(he did it on purpose).

- Arthur spent the rest of his day taking you on a tour through some backroads, teaching you to steer the whole way through.

-It was the most peaceful evening he’d ever had.

-You made conversation easy. The strange way his heart pounded made him loose-lipped around you, and he gladly told you snippets of his life.

-He told you stories about growing up in the gang, about tricking John into taking showers, about Hosea teaching him to read. And you accepted each story as if they were nuggets of gold. (he loved that)

-You had eventually opened up to him about being a runaway, explaining that you had never needed to learn to ride before going on the run. His heart squeezed to think of what you must have seen.

-As the sun dipped low and the sky turned purple, Arthur realized he had guided your horse toward camp out of habit.

-Despite being a hardened, tough man, Arthur couldn’t let you go.

-He pressed a kiss to your hair and decided that another addition to the gang couldn’t hurt.

𖤓⋆｡° ✮ 𓄀⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 𖤓⋆｡° ✮ 𓄀⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 𖤓⋆｡° ✮ 𓄀⋆⭒˚｡

as always,

love katie 💌

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.2

Summer is coming to an end, and the warm glow of the early evening bathes everything in gold, casting long shadows and making everything seem almost dreamlike. The sturdy planks of the bridge creak slightly as we cross, the sound blending with the gentle thuds of hooves against wood and the faint rush of the river below. In the distance, the constant song of the waterfalls form a faint, rumbling backdrop.

The sound of Serafina’s hooves changes as we leave the bridge and turn onto the cobbled stone road that leads to the estate. On evenings like this, I love Tartosa so much it makes my heart ache, and I wonder why I ever leave. The air smells sweeter here than anywhere else, a hint of saltwater mingling with the ever-present lavender and the more subtle, grassy notes of the earth itself.

I slow Serafina down as we reach the large mosaic that marks the crossroads. The colour has faded slightly with time, but the motif is as clear as ever, two intertwined wedding bands surrounded by the waves of the Tartosan sea. My great-grandparents commissioned it for an anniversary years before I was even born, a tribute to their love story carved into the very ground.

Serafina tosses her head impatiently, the reins tugging on my hands and pulling me out of my reverie. I feel her muscles tense up under the saddle, and she paws at the ground with her foreleg, restless.

“Sorry, girl,” I murmur. “We’ll go back to your baby now.”

I dismount as soon as we reach the paddock, stroke her neck and thank her for the ride. The light sheen of sweat on her coat is warm against my palm, but her focus is not on me anymore. Her tail swishes in agitation as a delicate, high-pitched nicker can be heard from the stables and I quickly open the gate and lead her through.

My uncle Gio waits for us in the doorway, brushing bits of hay off his gloves. Behind him, Serafina’s foal whinnies excitedly at the sight of its mother.

“There you are. How did it go?” He takes the reins from my outstretched hand and lets the impatient mare into her stall.

“She did great, she’s definitely getting her strength back. I let her gallop along the coast for a bit, you should have seen her. She was practically flying.”

“That’s my girl,” Gio mumbles softly, almost to himself. “Thanks for taking her out, she needed the exercise. As much as Sofia tries, she can’t ride all of them every day and school starts back up soon. How long are you staying this time?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Another week, maybe more. I need a break from everything, some time to figure out what to do next.”

“And a week or two is enough for that?”

“It’s a start. I’ll be fine, you know me, Gio.”

“Exactly, I know you. Well, tell your aunt I’ll be in soon, I’m almost done here.”

“You don’t want any help?”

He laughs, waving me off.

“You were always more useful in the kitchen, my boy.”

As soon as I open the heavy front doors of the main house, I’m met with the sound of laughter. Aunt Teresa is wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as they both turn to me.

“Hi mum, Teresa. What’s so funny?”

My mother lights up at the sight of me, and I hurry over to give her a hug before she can attempt to stand.

“Paolo, did you happen to see Giovanni out there? Is he coming in too?”

“Soon, zia, he’s just making sure the vineyard doesn’t run out of fertiliser.”

My mother laughs, giving my arm a feeble squeeze with her left hand. “I don’t think that’ll happen any time soon.”

“Well, we better not take any chances, mum. The entire Romeo fortune could be at stake, and I’m currently unemployed.”

Teresa shakes her head, smiling, then calls towards the stairs. “Sofia? Come down, please.”

Seconds later, my youngest cousin skips down the stairs.

Her older sisters, Laura and Anna, both moved out years ago, but Sofia was a late surprise addition, still just a baby when I first moved to Del Sol Valley. To Gio’s endless joy, Sofia is just as obsessed with the horses as he is.

“Sofia, you can do your piano lesson while I make dinner. Is that alright with you, Rose?”

My mother nods and carefully gets up and walks to her usual chair by the piano. Her steps are agonisingly slow but dignified, and I resist the urge to help her, instead distracting myself by picking a few white horse hairs off my shirt.

Teresa disappears into the kitchen, and I opt for simply taking the shirt off before following her.

A copper pot simmers on low heat on the old stove. Teresa’s kitchen was always my favourite room in this house, filled with delicious smells and tastes. Ever since I could walk, I kept ending up in the kitchens, both here and at the vineyard, and my grandmother and aunts never hesitated to put me to work.

There are herbs everywhere, clay pots of fresh basil and oregano. Recently picked thyme and sage, still with their purple flowers, hangs from the ceiling and fills the air with their fragrance.

Teresa points to a bunch of ripe tomatoes by the sink, drying next to the carrots and zucchini she picked earlier.

“You can start by slicing the tomatoes.”

I wash my hands and begin cutting. There’s a small bowl of large, juicy grapes from the vineyard on the table, and I pop one into my mouth. The taste brings back memories of long summers helping out with the harvest, of sun and dirt and the first time I was allowed to taste the family wine.

“How are things over in Del Sol? Your mother says you’re no longer doing voices?”

“Yeah, the show I was working on has ended. But one of my friends is trying to set me up with her agent. For movie roles, I mean.”

“You’re going back to movies? That sounds wonderful! You were so happy back when you did that.”

I know for a fact that Teresa hasn’t watched a single second of Llama Man’s adventures, animated or otherwise, but she was always supportive.

“Yeah, I’m still considering it, but…”

A wildly off-key chord sounds from the living room, followed by laughter as my mother explains something and Sofia starts over.

I glance at the crutches leaning against the wall and lower my voice slightly, although my mother is unlikely to hear me over Sofia murdering a Tartosan folk song.

“How is she doing? When I’m not here, I mean?”

“You always worry too much, tesoro. Your mother is fine.”

“I know, I just… I haven’t been home much lately.”

“You’ve been busy. It’s understandable, you have your own life over there.”

“But now that… There’s nothing that really keeps me over there right now. And both her leg and her hand seems worse lately. I was wondering if I should take a longer break, stay home with her for a while…”

Teresa sighs.

“Paolo, listen to me. It is not your job to replace your father. Your mother is happy. She has family, she has friends, she has so much joy in her life. You need to try and find some joy in your life too.”

navigation / previous / next

[morning-star-joy]

when men like you come around masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OFC!Ethel

Summary: One of the most important lessons Ethel Taylor was taught in life was when you meet a bad man, pull the trigger and run. She's done it before, and she's ready to do it again when she crosses paths with outlaw Arthur Morgan. But something stays her hand, and when she ends up as the newest addition to the Van der Linde gang, they quickly become thorns in each other's sides, up until they're the only two that can pull off a big job posing as a doting, newlywed couple.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of a past abusive relationship (emotional & physical abuse), mentions of murder. Rivals to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, lots of sass from both Arthur & Ethel. High Honor!Arthur with some Medium Honor vibes. Ethel POV written in second person, Arthur POV written in third person.

Chapters:

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

(more chapters TBD)

“You alright, Miss?” he asked, his voice a rough drawl.

You glanced from him towards the lawman that had been hot on your trail and shooting at you a moment before, now dead weight dragged far away along the dirt by a limp foot still caught in a stirrup, Lord knowing who would find him and what mayhem would follow.

“You just killed a lawman,” you said, looking back towards the man currently not pointing a gun at you, and so for just the moment, you didn’t point yours at him.

His worn hat was perched on his head to protect from the blaring sun, black brim covering his eyes, but you swore that you saw a twitch of his lips before he shifted in his saddle, glancing behind him towards where you had left the other dead body in the dust, before the man turned back and replied matter-of-factly, “So did you.”

Ethel & Arthur art by my wife @cowboycyns

[telecollision]

TeleCollision is a top down story driven turn based RPG where you make an original character, then set off on an adventure alongside eccentric characters that seem to know a lot more than they're letting on... Something is off… And that gray man in the bowler keeps showing up…

Time your attacks to do additional damage!

Collect and equip trading cards to adjust your skills and stats!

Talk to shop keepers of ill repute, who seem to also be wearing an off putting faceless mask like the man in the bowler hat?

Learn how to utilize the strange characters that you're saddled with to fight cute and vicious enemies on your way to figuring out exactly what sort of adventure you didn't sign up for!

Demo out now on Steam and Itch.io!

TeleCollision on Steam

TeleCollision on Itch.io

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 1

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After the apocalypse took everything Iris held dear, a new opportunity presents itself in the form of a bag of guns. Little does she know, that bag of guns starts something much bigger than she ever could have anticipated. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; gun violence, gang violence, offensive terminology for gang members and daryl, salty language

Chapter 1 - The Bag

It was Iris' favourite word lately. Repeated like a mantra, over and over. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The repetition gave her a little bit of comfort, but not enough. Nothing was ever enough. During trying times such as these, Iris took comfort in whatever she could. But it was hard to feel comfortable with blood on your hands. And face. Neck. Clothes. The butchered end of what was once a sledgehammer. The actual hammer part had been gone for a while, but a big stick covered in blood was as best as you could do these days.

Iris sat panting against the door to the bar, trying to ignore the smell of rotting human flesh that seemed to follow her around. A few hungry fists beat against the wood at her back, but the door held strong. 

The bar was once a cheerful place, as cheerful as it could be when it smelled like stale beer and the old velour barstools it was soaked into. The wall to her left was decorated in frames filled with leather vests, the biker gang logos on the back dating back a few decades. The most recent one matching a small patch Iris kept in her pocket. 

A few months ago, there were still people milling about the bar. Stu, the bartender, kept the place as tidy as he could while people took shelter from the infection. Now Stu was laid out all pretty behind the counter with his throat in shreds and a bullet hole between his eyebrows. 

Corpses, memories infested the bar. Ted's reanimated body was impaled on a chair, his wiry, blood-covered arms reaching out toward Iris as she scanned everything. He was too weak to lift a pint when he was alive, nevermind pry his lifeless body up off the broken furniture. Iris used to be the only one to ever beat him at darts. 

As the dead gave up with the door behind her, Iris stood up, pushing the jukebox in front of it. Her footsteps were too loud on the creaky wood, following beer and blood stains up to her little camp. Other sleeping bags were left abandoned around the small apartment over the bar, hers the only one left who's occupant had a heartbeat. She was the last one.

Carefully, and sparingly, Iris poured a bottle of water onto her hands, washing them clean of their daily sins. She never was religious, but extinction events such as this were too often associated with the wrath of God. 

There had been a bag of guns out there today. Iris had made a habit of hopping rooftops across Atlanta. It was the only real way to get around when the dead flooded the street below, mindlessly wandering. She remembered the day the tanks came in, blowing up cars, shops, banks filled with people, living people dying, dead people getting back up. 

There was one tank in particular that she ran past every time she went out. But someone living had been there on that roof. She'd climbed the ladder, eyes immediately drawn to the pool of blood and a pair of handcuffs. One cuff was locked to a steel bar, which had been welded to the roof, and the other was covered in fresh gore. 

The door was open, but Iris had no intention of entering the department store building, not when a severed hand lay halfway between her and the door. He'd been living when he cut his hand off. But he did it well, considering the little amount of blood and flesh covering the hacksaw a few feet away. 

In addition to the severed hand, there was a dead horse on the road. That was unusual only for the fact that they were in the city, and the horse was wearing a saddle. Someone had ridden it in, expecting... not this, probably. Making the point to a triangle involving the horse and the tank was a black Sheriff's duffel bag with a few gun barrels poking out of the top. 

That was what she really needed, even though she appreciated the few cans of food she'd taken out of a food bank box. The city was good for scavenging, but dangerous, and unsustainable. There was a part of Iris that didn't want to leave, despite every nagging instinct telling her the opposite. The bar she inhabited had been home to her for a long time, way before the dead started walking. She didn't want to leave it behind. 

But self-preservation overruled the internal argument, and Iris wrote out a small plan in her mind. Tomorrow, she'd go and get the bag of guns. She didn't need a whole lot, given she was alone, but one could never be too prepared. At least, that was what she thought to convince herself.

-

After another restless night's sleep and a mediocre breakfast of canned pineapple, Iris gathered her things. The small collection consisted of her lucky patch, a bandana that she wore over her face, a leather jacket three sizes too big, a .22 she'd snagged from a dead cop, and her prized possession: a set of knives. 

While it was completely impractical prior to the world's destruction, Iris had stumbled upon a very fancy set of knives post-apocalypse and had finally found a use for her deadly aim. Knives were not the same as darts, but they worked a hell of a lot better. She'd used Ted's hands for target practice. 

The bag was the priority. Other scavenge-able items could be obtained later. Iris began her trek into the city. She made it by the afternoon on foot. It would have been faster if she'd driven one of the bikes from the auto shop beside the bar, but they were loud. 

She made it to the right street, ducking from alley to alley instead of her usual comfortable path along the rooftops. The bag was on the ground, and the walkers were surrounding it, but not on top of it.

Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears as she sprinted past the dead, the bandana stifling the stench as much as it could. They growled in her direction as she brushed past them, gurgling in interest. 

Her fingers wrapped around the handles of the bag, but quick-paced footsteps halted her movements. Iris' head snapped up as she met the gaze of a young man, his eyes panicked. He was unarmed. She took the opportunity and ran, leaving him to keep running.

"Wait!" He hissed, running after her. 

-

Glenn swore under his breath as the woman took the bag and ran. He grabbed Rick's hat, strewn across the road, and ran after her.

"Ayúdame! Ayúdame!" Someone yelled, their voice echoing off the walls of the city. He ran after the girl, who was running toward the alley where Daryl waited.

-

"Fuck." Iris mumbled, stumbling into the nearest alley. Only, instead of a clear escape route, she found four guys with violent looks in their eyes. Well, three. The fourth was lying on the ground, fighting against a man with a crossbow pointed between his eyes. The other two started beating the crossbow guy with pipes, looking up as they noticed her. The kid from before skidded into the alley behind her, only for his eyes to blow wide at the sight.

Iris shoved the kid forward, retreating. She'd find another goddamn alley. He yelped as one of the other guys grabbed him by the shirt collar.

"That's it! That's the bag, Vato! Take it!" He yelled. Iris made it only a few steps before she was tackled to the ground. She wrestled with the guy on top of her, the bag of guns digging into her spine.

"Let go of me! Let go! Daryl! Daryl!" The boy from before screamed as one of the guys dragged him from the alley. A rusty car pulled up quickly as the walkers started to close in. The man on top of her and the guy holding the kid got into the car, tires squealing as they retreated to wherever they came from. 

"Fuck." Iris repeated as she pulled a knife from the sheath at her waist, killing the nearest walker with a grunt. She made to kill the next but a coloured arrow speared through its skull, the corpse collapsing in front of her. The man from before, albeit bloodied and bruised, grabbed the bag, still strapped to Iris' back, and hauled them both behind the chain link fence blocking off the alleyway. 

"Where'd they go?" He spat, pointing the crossbow in her face as he pinned her against the wall. The fourth man, less of a man than a kid, saw his chance and ran down the other end of the alley, only to come face to face with the barrel of a pistol. Two men, the one with the gun in a sheriff's uniform and the other unarmed, marched the kid back to the mouth of the alley, where the crossbow was held to Iris' forehead. "Where are they?" He repeated.

"I'm not with them." Iris hissed, pushing the crossbow away and taking a defensive stance. Daryl grunted and made to attack her, but the sheriff grabbed him, pulling him away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop it!" He urged, holding him back. Iris was clearly trapped between the fence and the rest of them, but the ladder to the rooftop was close. The other guy, holding the kid, saw her eyes shift and moved to guard it. The guy with the crossbow snapped like a rabid dog, going for the kid, who was now closer.

"I'm gonna kick your nuts up into your throat! They took Glenn. This little bastard and his little bastard homie friends! I'm gonna stomp your ass!"

"Guys, guys! We're cut off!" The guy holding the kid yelled, gesturing to the fence behind Iris. She glanced back at it, the chain links wavering against the growing mob. Iris narrowed her eyes at the obstacle between her and her freedom. 

"Get to the lab, go!" The sheriff instructed, the unarmed guy taking the kid to wherever this lab was. He picked up his revolver, pointing it at Iris. "Come on."

"Damn, let's go!" Crossbow guy snarled. The sheriff grabbed his hat from the ground, nodding his head at Iris when she didn't move. It was between them, and the army of dead things behind her. If she was honest, she might've preferred the latter. She started after the man with the crossbow, flanked by the sheriff, regretting this little adventure with each step.

They rushed into the back door of a building, the inside torn to shit. Iris followed to one room in particular before she was shoved toward a wall. She whipped out her knife with a flash, angling it toward the hunter's neck. He grimaced, backing up a step. The sheriff walked in, an air of dominance in his step. It was clear he didn't know what he was getting into.

"Those are our guns." He said, looking to the bag pointedly. The hunter tried again to grab the bag from Iris, but she angled the knife toward him again. 

"Haven't you heard of 'finders keepers?'" She asked tauntingly. "Or are you gonna arrest me for stealing?" The sheriff didn't react, just looking between her and the kid.

"Those men you were with. We need to know where they went." He stated.

"Like I said before, I'm not with them." Iris grumbled.

"I ain't telling you nothing." The kid said through his split lip. He had a weed tattoo on the side of his neck, a silver chain hanging beside it. It looked stupid. 

"Jesus, man, what the hell happened back there?" The strong guy asked, shaking his head.

"I told you. This little turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me." The hunter replied. "Then she comes out of nowhere with our guns."

"You're the one who jumped me, puto." The kid drawled. "Screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault."

"They took Glenn. Could've taken Merle too." 

"Merle? What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle." The kid muttered, the hunter lunging at him. The sheriff stepped in, hauling his ass back.

"Damn it, Daryl. Back off!" He huffed. The hunter, Daryl, huffed in frustration, going to his bag and grabbing something wrapped in a bandana. Iris watched the exchange carefully.

"Wanna see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?" He asked, unwrapping the bundle and throwing a severed hand into the kid's lap. Iris' eyes narrowed in recognition. The kid screamed, stumbling away from the hand as Daryl unsheathed a pocket knife, pointing it toward the kid. "We'll start with the feet this time."

"Would your brother happen to have been handcuffed to a roof?" Iris asked, drawing his attention away from the stupid kid. Daryl spun on his heel, nothing behind his eyes but rage.

"You fucking--"

"He was gone when I saw the handcuffs. The hand." She explained, nodding to the hand as he aimed his knife at her.

"You know where he is?" Daryl asked, a small tweak of sadness cutting through his voice. Iris shook her head slowly. The sheriff sighed, kneeling down to the kid.

"The men you were with took our friend. All we wanna do is talk to them, see if we can work something out." He explained. The kid looked down at his feet before he opened his mouth and told them everything.

Iris watched the trio argue amongst one another when deciding what to do. The sheriff sighed, turning toward her and approaching slowly.

"You alone?" He asked.

"No." She lied. 

"Those guns belong to us." He insisted, gesturing to the large 'SHERIFF' label on the side of the bag.

"I don't know which cop you skinned to get the uniform, Officer--" She glanced at his metal name tag. "Grimes."

"I'm Rick. Alright? We need those guns to get our friend back." He explained.

"Yeah, I know. I'm standing right here, I heard you. Your little negotiation idea won't work." She replied, narrowing her eyes. "Gangbangers don't really do diplomacy."

"Hey, shut up, bitch! We're not gangbangers!" The kid protested, only to shrink back at the sight of a crossbow in his face.

"Don't look that way to me." Daryl murmured.

"What's your name?" Rick asked Iris, drawing back her attention. She regarded him closely for a moment before pulling down her bandana.

"Iris." She replied. Rick put his hands on his hips as he nodded.

"Well, Iris, if you really are alone, as I suspect you are, then we might be able to cut a deal." He offered slowly.

"Alright..." She nodded for him to continue.

"You don't need all those guns yourself. Take a look inside the bag, see for yourself. You give the bag to us, we give you a cut, them a cut, and we get a cut. And we can all go exchange our people."

"Got anything to sweeten the deal?" Iris asked after a moment, raising an eyebrow. Rick nodded in understanding, glancing nervously back at his two companions.

"Well, you could come back with us to our group." He reasoned. The two others exchanged a small look of protest, but said nothing. Iris looked back to Rick.

"What makes you think I want that?"

"Strength in numbers? Self preservation? Get out of the city? Safe place to eat, sleep..." He trailed off, analyzing her reactions. 

Iris considered. She really did. And Rick was right, for the most part. Being alone in this was hard, but making friends was harder. And living was impossible without guns. So, she agreed.

"I'll go with you." She said quietly. "I got your back. But I won't promise to stay with your people."

"Alright." Rick nodded, content with her answer.