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wordpress-blaze-13004815 · 3 hours ago

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Back to some beginnings.

Meanwhile, the garden grows. And though I obsess each day in hours spent digging, watering, transplanting, tending, weeding and seeding, the magic that makes it grow humbles me. I think it is that sense of humility and wonder that drives some of us to toil endlessly over things growing in the dirt, when going to a grocery store would be so much easier.

End of the day I sit on the swing above the garden while dogs and wind chimes joyously play, noting that the grass needs mowing, the horses feet are in need of a trim as are my fingernails embedded with black from the soil where my hands are digging deep, and a good kind of tired eases into me, over me, down to my bones.

A break from sawdust and gear grease, in this season of chartreuse in the sun, and in the shade a shamrock green, I keep busy keeping the homestead going, getting irrigation up for the season, brushing the horses and dogs all of which are losing their winter coats, repairing broken pipes, and endless entertainment provided for free by the latest batch of chicks born just before Easter.

I sit here at the computer beginning and end of each day, a little sore and sunburned from earlier or the day before, searching my soul for a creative outpouring to share with you, inspire you, or maybe make you laugh. But tonight it feels more like just sitting there beside you in our tiredness, maybe in a comfortable silence, feet up and heads back and a smile upon our lips. That's how it is in high spring. I think you feel that too.

As my fingers pause above the keyboard, hoovering, awaiting the moment to descend, I wonder what can I share beyond the view, the sounds, the scents, the seasons, and somedays that feels like enough.

And so I write, as I have done over ten thousand days before this one.

Just to write.

What's the point, I question?

Just to write.

To hone my craft creatively. And share my words courageously.

It may not seem like much, but sometimes I feel it's all I have to give.

What else can I do to contribute and connect?

Do we ever really know?

But what we can always do is try.

So I try and write, and hope that what I share may be well received.

I returned to blogging for the creative outlet. I told you I'd focus on alternative building, off grid being and slow living. Funny I find myself sharing more about what's in my head or the view before me.

A quiet life.

A quiet voice.

A life with time and space to listen.

I never felt as lonely as in a big city surrounded by so many.

So much noise, I could not hear.

So many voices, I could not be heard.

Solace was found in wide and wild, open space and emptiness.

I wish to live with the sound of rushing waters and robins early morning, the redwing in the willows and wind chimes keeping me company on breezy afternoons, the evening shrill of frogs and crickets or endless silence and stillness as you star up into the stars.

These are the sounds I wish to hear, above the mindless chatter and seemingly senseless cacophony bombarding from big loud places.

And at the same time I know that this silence can be uncomfortable for many, maybe even most, like sitting across from someone at a table and finding yourself stuck in that awkward pause that silence so often can be.

youtube

When I first started building and living off grid over thirty years ago, I don't think we used the term "off grid." It was more like "un grid." It wasn't about living without dependency upon public utilities. It was simply living. "Without" was a part of it by necessity, not choice. Most of us were just trying to get away, be away, or trying to make do, and that was what we could do.

We were an odd sort back then. (Maybe we still are.)

There was old man Brinker, a WWII vet and eclectic artist who would take me to the coffee shops by the galleries of Taos or Canyon Road. He'd offer black coffee to my two year old son and chain smoke cigarettes in his old red Ford, smiling at and waving to young low riders that would raise their hands cussing us because he drove so slow.

There was Tim the goat man who'd pop up half clad in the wild sage bush when and where you'd least expect, with wide eyes and disheveled hair, looking around saying, "Seen my goats?"

There was the Mama Cass mama with long flowing floral skirts and a big booming voice that would hug you so tight you'd find yourself lost in her abundant bosom.

There were potential relationships that never would be with the bad ass biker, the grizzled cowboy and the spanish outlaw with scars on his legs inviting me to go into the firewood business with him. Alas, back then, my baby was the only man I had eyes for. My hands and heart were kept full.

There were the women's women who taught me about women's circles and full moon drummings and wild women collectives, permaculture, hand suede stuccoing, and killing rattlers that loomed in the lumber piles where my child played.

Then, we called our world "alternative." Choosing to build, live and be outside the box. Not a part of the system. None of the above.

Building a straw bale shack myself with a baby on my back wasn't a choice based on lack of trust in the system or wishing for more independence or feeling it was a "greener" way of living. It was a choice born from necessity. It was all I could afford.

Don't get me wrong. That didn't mean I felt lacking. Though there certainly were thing I was longing for, like stability, security and connection, and even a little cash to get a full tank of gas, I loved the simplicity, being closer to the earth, and doing it myself. Whatever it was. Or have the community kick in, and in kind, be there for them when it was their turn.

There was excitement, pride, and respect for the naturalness, plainness, and directness that simplicity allows. It was a time and space comprised of a group of folks out there doing the same thing. So there was camaraderie. It wasn't about outdoing the Jones. It was about helping the Jones' out. Knowing the Jones' needed it, and so did you. We'd roll up our sleeves and lift bales and spread stucco and share whatever building materials, seeds or groceries we had salvaging that could help another out.

So you see, it wasn't about intentionally living without. It was just about living. However we could.

Solid walls were an upgrade to a tent, and that's where my baby and dogs and I had been living before my first strawbale was built.

In those days, at least in my circle, there was no solar power, no running water, no building codes. Way down some dusty dirt roads, and a little outlaw, we hauled water. Used outhouses or a shovel in the shade behind a pinon tree. Foraged and dumpster dived not to be hip but because we were hungry. Used pay phones. Siphoned gas. My meager garden was kept alive by the water that first was used to bathe the baby and wash my clothes.

Now "off grid" often means living with all the comforts of "on grid," but with a sense of responsibility and independence. And that's great too.

But some times, an added element of simplicity can take you beyond "off grid" and back to the bare bones. And really, one way isn't right nor wrong. It's all just personal choice. And sometimes, just all that one can do.

Last week, a friend asked where our solar array was. He hadn't seen it at our homestead. It doesn't stick out. We have three little panels sitting on the roof of our garden shed. That's it. It was a small start up system we had set up back in Colorado and brought in the horse trailer as we traveled west. It was meant to be enough to charge power tools, devices, use limited satellite connectivity and maybe an occasional light. Enough to get us started. That was six years ago. It continues to be enough. I still prefer candles and gas lamps to the latest greatest LEDs.

I'm not saying this is "the" way. It's just our way. It works for me.

In light of that...

We spent the last several months downsizing our plans for the cabin we will be building this summer.

Over and over, we worked the plans out to be smaller and smaller. Not a trendy tiny house. Just a Little Cabin.

Less foot print. Less concrete. Less plumbing and electric (if at all to begin with).

And built with our trees, and our hands. A labor of love.

The smaller our plans got, the more simple our ideas became, the less stress we felt, and the lighter we became.

Simplicity is a temptation that entices me.

I may forever be lured by the fantasy of getting back on my horse and heading out, with nothing more than my pack horse can carry.

Just get on your horse and go.

Though the likelihood of me ever doing that again is slim. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.

The stress of forever seeking grass and water for the horses, slipping of steel shoes on hard pavement, sharing roads and camps with swarms of mormon crickets, roads with traffic and without safe shoulders to ride on, too many bears and not enough cell service to talk with my husband at the end of most days, forever fences and eternally locked gates and map apps that I never could quite figure, and feeling far more lonely than I ever wanted to be... I found simple is not always easy.

Staying home is easier. Turn the horses out in morning; call them in for the night. All the mowing, hoeing, weedwacking and watering is still easier than life on the road in today's not so wild Wild West with a culture primarily clueless to horses and blind to horse travel.

Sure, I think about it. Where and how I'd go. What I'd do differently next time. What else I'd take and what I could leave behind. Maybe I'd even try to convince my husband to go.

But that's a whole other story, another adventure I don't need to be thinking about now.

In fact, this week, I'm not even thinking about logs, sawdust, milling, cleaning slash and making one board and beam at a time, and the story we'll share of putting them all together.

Right now, my story is simply about preparing, planting, weeding and watering.

Watching the garden grow, one row at time, one breath at a time, one gentle wind at time, moving the oak leaves, tall late spring grass, wind chimes, the table cloth on the picnic table, and the refuse-to-be-contained wisp of hair that flutters across my smiling face.

Until next time,

With love, always love,

Gin

Source: Back to some beginnings.

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ticifics · 2 months ago

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anatomy

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: “Dave, I can study on you.” He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “What?” “Your muscles,” you explained, already trailing your fingertips over his chest, feeling the subtle tension beneath the skin. “Every single one in the right place. Perfect.”

Warnings: est. relationship, college!dave, college!reader, nomenclature of some (many) muscles, reader is a health area student, suggestive, language, no use of y/n

A/N: a special thanks to my dear lovely @gingerteafairy who encouraged me to post this, i love you a million times <333

You never thought Batman could have such poorly placed muscles. Shit, it was a total disrespect to such an incredible character. If Christian Bale saw that—he wouldn’t care in the slightest, but you did. Who cares if the damn doll was cheap? It wouldn’t have cost much to at least put some muscles in the right place.

Look at this oblique, you thought in disgust. It was completely ridiculous.

At least the facial muscles didn’t require too much effort to pin down. Even if it took some—okay, a lot of—imagination to actually mark each one. For a cheap doll, the plastic was sturdy enough to leave your poor fingers sore.

“I hate this,” you muttered, dropping the doll and sighing dramatically before resting your face on the table, carefully avoiding the scattered pins.

Dave, sitting beside you, smiled. He was used to your little dramatics, and he liked seeing your pouty lips; he liked biting them even more. “What happened, lovie?” he asked sweetly, leaning in to take a look at the mess on the table.

He had come straight to your house after class—tuesday study sessions were sacred. Even if, most of the time, studying was the last thing you two did. He tried, he really did, to focus on the calculations he had to do, but before he knew it, you were already pressed against him. Soft and pliant, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t dedicate his full attention to you?

But today unfolded differently. You were completely immersed in the project one of your professors had assigned: label 100 muscles on a doll—a fun, interactive way to optimize learning. Dave had found you in your room muttering things like flexor hallucis longus, masseter, vastus while clutching a Batman doll, with countless pins scattered across your bed. To be honest, it was a little scary. Not as much as the demonic images from Netter’s spread open on your shelf, but still unsettling.

“The thing is,” you lifted the doll with evident disdain, “this doesn’t have a single muscle in the right place. How am I supposed to label the soleus if it’s in the wrong spot? It’s impossible, impossible.”

Dave frowned, studying the figure. He had no idea which tiny bump was supposed to be a soleus.

“And I really need the grade for this project,” you whined, covering your face with your hands and letting out a dramatic sigh. “I need this grade, Dave.”

“Hey,” he said, gently pulling your hands away. When you didn’t look at him, he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your face. “Of course, you’re going to get this grade. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Dave, don’t—”

“Listen to me,” he cut you off, his voice carrying that soft tone that always made your heart skip a beat.

Dave wasn’t the type to impose his words, but when he wanted to make sure you really listened, his voice carried a different weight. He wasn’t just saying pretty things—he meant them.

You felt his fingers slide behind your ear, tucking loose strands of hair away from your face. His thumb traced a brief path across your cheek before settling under your chin, keeping your gaze locked on his.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” he repeated, quieter now. “And I know Todd. Todd once explained String Theory to me while drinking a Pepsi.”

A short laugh escaped you, but the frustration still sat heavy in your stomach.

“Dave, this isn’t funny,” you sighed, letting your forehead drop against his chest.

“Not at all,” he agreed immediately, sliding a hand to your waist and squeezing gently. “But I also know you’re not going to lose this grade.”

You felt him lean down slightly, his nose brushing against the top of your head before his arms wrapped around you completely. A firm embrace, without hesitation. As if, just for that moment, he could carry the weight of the world for you.

And that was when your body finally relaxed for the first time in hours. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, taking in every detail of him around you. Dave was warm—he always was—and his body was solid against yours, firm and safe. You adjusted yourself closer, arms slipping around him until your hands found his back.

And that’s when your brain short-circuited.

Because as your fingers traced over his shoulders, down his arms, you felt—

Muscles.

Trapezius. Rhomboid. Biceps. Brachialis. Anconeus.

With every new discovery, you whispered their names without even realizing it. Just feeling them, each one in the right place, perfectly aligned. Unlike the deformed, infuriating doll tossed on your desk.

Dave furrowed his brows. “Are you… whispering spells? Because I was just trying to help, but—”

Your hands were on his shirt before he could finish the sentence.

“Dave.”

“Yeah?”

“Take it off.”

He blinked, completely lost. “What?”

Your patience was already running thin.

“The shirt.”

Dave looked at you for a moment, as if trying to understand what exactly was happening, but, well, you were asking him to take his shirt off. And if there was one thing he wasn’t about to do, it was question miracles.

So, with one last curious glance, he obeyed.

And when the fabric hit the floor, you just stood there, staring. Lips slightly parted as your eyes trailed up and down his body.

“Jesus,” you breathed, running a hand down your face, as if scolding yourself for not thinking of this sooner.

“Is that good or bad?”

“This is the best thing that could have happened.”

Dave blinked a few times. “Wow. I didn’t even do anything.”

“Dave, I can study on you.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “What?”

“Your muscles,” you explained, already trailing your fingertips over his chest, feeling the subtle tension beneath the skin. “Every single one in the right place. Perfect.”

And that’s how you ended up on his lap.

Dave wasn’t entirely sure how it happened—but honestly, he wasn’t complaining. One moment you were fuming over a misshapen Batman, and the next, you were fully engrossed in your own private anatomy study, straddling him, fingers tracing slow, delicate paths down his arms.

He could feel the warmth of your skin against his, a delicious contrast to the cool night breeze slipping through the window. You had said you needed to focus, and he had promised to stay still. But damn, it was hard.

Very hard.

Because for Dave, there was nothing more attractive than seeing you like this—so immersed in it, lips slightly pursed, eyes focused. You murmured the names of muscles as you ran your fingertips over them, and he felt each one respond to your touch. It was almost comical how something as simple as you studying for your class could drive him this insanely affected.

He already knew you were brilliant. He knew you took college seriously and that when you were focused, the rest of the world disappeared. But he wasn’t prepared for how… hot that could be.

Dave felt the corner of his mouth tug into a distracted smile, but it was enough to make you stop.

“Dave,” you scolded, your voice low but firm.

He blinked at you. “What?”

“Stay still.”

“I am still.”

“You smiled.”

“That doesn’t count,” he argued, a grin playing on his lips.

You sighed, but he caught the way your eyes sparkled, and, well, that was when he knew you weren’t exactly immune to this either.

Slowly, your fingers trailed up to his face. You held his chin, your eyes studying every detail with an almost reverent patience.

“Here,” you began, your voice lower now, as if you were about to reveal a secret, a finger tracing a line beside his mouth, “is where the risorius muscle is.”

Before he could ask what the hell that meant, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss there, right at the corner of his mouth.

Dave felt his breath falter at the pressure of your lips against his skin.

And then you kept going.

“And here,” your lips brushed his cheek, right where his smile was still fighting to hold on, “is the zygomaticus major.”

He swallowed hard.

You pulled back just enough to look at him again, your fingers still holding his face.

“Hm?” he managed to murmur, because, honestly, his brain was already running on safety mode.

You smiled.

“The masseter,” you whispered, kissing his jawline, your lips sliding along its sharp edge.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a shiver run down his spine.

“Temporalis,” you continued, pushing his curls from his face before leaning in, your lips grazing his temple now.

Dave swore he had never been more interested in anatomy in his entire life.

He opened his eyes when you looked at him again, and for a moment, all he could do was admire you. Your eyes were darker under the soft glow of the lamp, your lips slightly flushed, and the expression on your face was somewhere between concentration and amusement.

“Are you learning anything, Lizewski?”

He smiled slowly.

“More than you think.”

You smiled back but didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, a touch that was both gentle and intentional. You could feel every tiny irregularity on Dave’s skin—the defined contour, the almost imperceptible roughness of the stubble beginning to grow, the subtle tension in his muscles as he watched you. His gaze was heavy now, an intense blue that gleamed under the dim light of the room, and his glasses had slipped down his nose slightly, as they always did when he was too distracted to bother adjusting them.

His hands, which had slipped under your shirt, moved slowly, fingertips gliding over your waist as if memorizing every inch of skin. The touch wasn’t rushed or hesitant—it was firm, as if he wanted you to feel exactly what he was doing. As if he wanted to burn it into your skin.

You didn’t stop him.

Instead, you leaned even closer into him, the warmth of your bodies mixing in the room’s thick air, and lifted Dave’s chin with two fingers, forcing him to tilt his head back. His breath came out heavy, warm, and you felt the way the muscle in his neck tensed under your touch.

Your fingers slid over it, pressing right where the skin was thin enough to feel the rapid pulse of his heart. It was better than any music.

“The sternocleidomastoid,” you murmured, your voice low, laced with something that made Dave swallow hard. “It tilts and rotates the head…” Your fingers pressed a little more, your nail lightly dragging against his skin. “…and it’s also the muscle responsible for stiff necks.”

His eyes were locked onto you now, half-lidded, and for a second, he didn’t say anything. He just breathed.

“This is supposed to be a lesson?” Dave asked, his voice slow, slightly hoarse.

“Maybe,” you whispered. “But there’s one more thing.”

Before he could respond, your lips touched his neck—a slow, warm kiss, just enough to make him hold his breath. But you didn’t stop there.

Your lips parted against his skin, and you sucked lightly, deliberately, feeling the way his body tensed beneath you. The hands that had merely been resting on your waist gripped tighter, his fingers pressing into your skin, and you heard a breathy sigh escape Dave’s lips—low, drawn-out, almost a moan he tried to hold back but failed.

You pulled away slowly, satisfied with the mark you had left there, clearly visible against his fair skin.

His eyes were dark now, his chest rising and falling unevenly, and when he tried to say something, you just smiled, running your fingers softly over the fresh mark, feeling the warmth still pulsing there.

"Did I mention it's also the perfect muscle for love bites?" you asked, your voice all innocent but your eyes saying something completely different.

Dave blinked, clearly still trying to process whatever had just happened.

“Definitely not,” he managed to say, his voice rougher than before.

Your fingers continued their almost involuntary path, slowly sliding down Dave’s exposed chest, tracing over his warm skin, feeling the texture, the tension beneath your fingertips. Your gaze was fixed on the path your hands were making, as if you were studying every small muscle contraction, every tiny involuntary movement happening beneath your palm.

His abdomen rose and fell in an uneven rhythm as your fingers traced the defined planes, the skin shifting subtly under your touch. You followed the natural lines of his muscles, outlining them with almost surgical precision—the well-defined rectus abdominis, the softly sculpted obliques. He was strong, not in an exaggerated way, but in a way that made sense, as if every muscle existed to fulfill its function perfectly.

And, damn, he was beautiful.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen him like this, exposed under your meticulous attention, but familiarity didn’t make it any less hypnotic. On the contrary. It was like revisiting a favorite book and always finding something new between the lines, a detail you had missed the last time.

But watching wasn’t enough.

Your body knew that before your mind could even fully form the thought. Your lips found his skin without hesitation, at first just a chaste kiss, the mere promise of a touch. But the promise shattered too quickly. You pressed your lips against the warmth of his chest, feeling the way his muscles reacted to your touch.

Dave let out a sigh, a low sound that reverberated beneath your mouth, and you felt every minute response of his body as if conducting a real-time experiment. The way his abdomen tensed when your tongue traced a lazy path over his skin. The way his fingers tightened around your hip when your warm breath spread over his collarbone.

You knew the name of every structure moving beneath your lips.

The pectoralis major, firm under your hand when you held him, subtly contracting as your lips followed the path of the muscle fibers. The serratus anterior, tensing involuntarily as your fingers ghosted over his sides. The rectus femoris, which you felt harden beneath your hips as he adjusted under you, pressing you more firmly onto his lap.

Your fingers traveled downward, tracing the contour of his obliques until they met a line that always made you hold your breath. The transversus abdominis. The deepest muscle, the one holding everything together, the pathway to paradise that defined his body in a way that was almost criminal. You felt Dave tense beneath you, a rougher sigh slipping past his lips.

“Shit…” he exhaled, his voice low, and you smiled against his skin, your lips brushing lightly before placing a kiss right there, where the muscle still pulsed under your touch.

“I like this one,” you confessed, completely shameless, and felt his hands tighten around your waist as an involuntary response.

“I noticed,” Dave retorted, trying to sound casual but failing miserably when you pressed another kiss there, just to watch him react again.

The power you had over him was intoxicating.

And maybe that’s why you leaned in, unhurried, your mouth wandering over his abdomen, each kiss a new form of teasing. Dave was no longer just an anatomical study under your hands; he was alive, pulsing, a mess of heavy sighs and contracted muscles.

“You know you’re killing me, right?” he murmured, his voice laced with breathless laughter.

You lifted your gaze, your fingers still tracing the path your mouth had traveled. “I’m just studying.”

Dave let out a low sound, almost a suppressed groan, and you felt it when he finally gave up pretending any kind of resistance. His hands traveled up your back, firm and warm against your skin, and before you could anticipate his next move, he pulled you up.

His lips found yours with almost desperate precision, and you felt your own body dissolve into the exact pressure of the kiss, the perfect fit between the two of you.

He pulled back just enough for you to feel the warm breath against your mouth, for his eyes to capture the sharp gleam in yours.

“My turn,” he murmured, his fingers gliding up your waist, deliberately slow. “If you get to study me, I think it’s only fair I do the same.”

You didn’t have time to respond before he flipped your positions, proving that those muscles weren’t just for show, his body firm against yours, his mouth leaving a heated trail down the side of your neck. His lips brushed over the delicate curve, and you felt his breath grow heavier against your skin as he smiled, his fingers teasing the hem of your shirt. A firm touch, unhurried.

He wanted to savor this.

The fabric lifted slowly, the tips of his fingers tracing every inch of newly exposed skin, as if he were memorizing the path. You felt your own body react, a shiver running up your spine.

And then, your shirt slid down your arms and was discarded.

"You know the Fibonacci sequence is present in everything?" he asked, his voice low, like he was sharing a secret. "In the universe, in art… in the human body."

The shiver came before you even fully processed his words, your brain struggling to keep up with both the way his hands were exploring your body and the fact that he was talking about the Fibonacci Sequence.

Dave noticed. Of course he did.

He lifted his gaze, barely concealing his satisfaction, and let his fingers trail from the curve of your hip to the center of your abdomen, the touch so light it made you hold your breath.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this, and yet, something in his eyes, in the way they slowly traveled down your body, betrayed how utterly stunned he was.

You found yourself unable to say anything. The silence between you was electric, thick with everything that didn’t need to be spoken.

He was the first to break it.

"The Fibonacci spiral can be found in the shape of the eyes, the length of the bones, even in the proportions of the lips…" His voice was barely a whisper, his mouth hovering over yours without kissing you, as if giving you time to absorb every word. "But honestly?" He traced the outline of your lips with his thumb. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything follow that pattern as perfectly as you."

The air caught in your throat.

The intensity in his gaze left you unable to think, to form any coherent response. You tried—really, you did. But then Dave leaned in and pressed his lips to yours again, this time with a purpose that made your entire body forget any anatomical concept that had ever existed.

"You have no idea how attractive you sound when you talk like that," you murmured, your voice lower than you intended.

The corner of his mouth curved, slow. Almost dangerous.

"Like what?"

You swallowed hard. "Like… you’re analyzing me and liking what you see."

Dave let out a low, husky laugh, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

"I'm not analyzing," he corrected, his hands sliding up your back, fingers tracing the warmth of your skin as if trying to commit every curve to memory. "I'm appreciating."

You had a second to process that—to feel your skin prickle under his touch, to drown in the heat, the overwhelming closeness—before Dave claimed your mouth again.

The kiss was hungry, slow and deep, and you felt the last remnants of restraint dissolve completely. Every touch of his left a trail of fire on your skin. The world outside the room ceased to exist—there was only this, only sensation, only the press of hands and the heat curling between you like something inevitable.

When he finally pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his gaze met yours, and his smile was soft but full of intent.

"Is this still part of your study?"

You couldn’t hold back your laugh, your chest rising and falling in a shaky breath. Your fingers traced along his collarbone, down to his shoulder, exploring the muscles still tense beneath his skin.

"Actually," you murmured, your gaze flickering to his lips before meeting his eyes again, "I think the theoretical part is over."

Dave tilted his head, his fingers dipping deeper along the curve of your waist.

"Good," he said, voice low. "Because I was really looking forward to the practical part."

#dave lizewski drabble #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #romance #aaron taylor johnson #atj #atj x reader #kick ass #kick ass x you #kick ass x reader #fluffy #suggestive #reader insert #no use of y/n

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suzukiblu · 3 months ago

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WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You are presenting, and you have chosen to do it in the base,” Red Tornado says. “Presumably you chose to do that because Project Cadmus lacked something you require for the process.”

“I . . .” Kon hesitates again, biting the inside of his lip. “I just–I just didn’t wanna do it there, okay? That’s–s’all.”

Red Tornado looks at him. Kon really wishes the guy had a scent that he could read. Or like–at least a fucking expression or something. Like just–literally anything, right now.

“You appear to be nesting,” Red Tornado observes. “Are you an omega, then?”

“. . . I guess,” Kon mumbles, swallowing roughly. And it feels–it feels weird, saying it to someone. Even after saying it to himself and the Super-Cycle already.

Red Tornado can tell him what he thinks about him saying that to him, is the thing. And whatever he thinks, it’s not going to be what Kon thinks himself.

Like–obviously it’s not, yeah.

“You are in possession of sufficient nesting material, then?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon tries not to bristle. It’s–it’s just a question, maybe. Probably. Not one he knows why Red Tornado’s asking, but–just a question.

Unless it’s a trap, anyway.

“I just–borrowed some stuff,” he says without saying anything about–about just what he’s really “borrowing”, and he maybe sounds a little bit too defensive about it, but . . . but that’s all he did, dammit. He didn’t do anything–bad or anything. “S’all. I’ll scent-scrub all the pheromones and shit off when I’m done, alright? I’m not messin’ anything up or anything, it’s fine.”

They wouldn’t care, he tries to say, but he doesn’t know–he doesn’t actually know that. Doesn’t actually know if . . . if they’d care. If they’d–mind.

Would they be mad, if they found out he came to the base to present and then tracked down and took all their scents? Like–without asking, or . . .

They’re not a pack. And the others all have packs. And in all their heads he’s just, like, the stupid bruiser teammate who’s only barely a friend that none of them trust to be in charge of the team even though he’s literally the only one who actually has been in charge of a team before and who they probably all think’s an alpha anyway and–and–

“Yes,” Red Tornado says. “But is ‘some stuff’ sufficient for your nest?”

“I . . .” Kon–falters, kinda, and maybe sinks in on himself a little again. Does–does it look that bad? He knows he didn’t get much stuff for it, but–but if it looks that bad . . .

“Kathy prefers to layer her nests with multiple fabrics and cushioning,” Red Tornado says. “And Traya and her friends line theirs with plush toys when engaging in playing ‘house’ together. I am otherwise unfamiliar with the necessary components of their construction.”

“. . . oh,” Kon realizes, and feels a little less–a little less embarrassed, at least. At least if Red Tornado doesn’t really know how it’s supposed to go either . . . well, he can’t think it looks that bad, if he doesn’t really know. Right? “Uh–I don’t . . . I dunno. I never . . . did it, before.”

Red Tornado tilts his head. Kon represses a cringe, trying not to bristle. Well–he wasn’t presented before, so . . . so why would he have?

“I was under the impression that most omega pups experience a compulsion to nest even before their presentation,” Red Tornado says.

“Well, I didn’t,” Kon snaps at him, digging his fingers into Cassie’s folded-up shirt and–and not-really-on-purposely pinning it against his chest.

Hugging it against his . . . against his . . .

He’d just–he’d just . . . thought about it, a couple times. But he . . . he hadn’t felt any stupid compulsions or . . .

Kon thinks about how many times he’d thought about nesting, and how many times he’d thrown all his blankets in the corner and made himself sleep on a half-stripped bed and nothing else, and how many times he’d thrown every blanket he could find on his bed and slept under them all at once, and how he’d always . . . always folded his jacket into a pillow, when he was . . . when he was . . . sleeping somewhere else, like on the road or on shoots or in the field or . . .

He thinks about how many times he’d wanted to . . . wanted to watch one of those nesting videos, but–hadn’t.

Then he thinks about crying, maybe.

“I thought I was gonna be an alpha,” he croaks, trying to figure out if–if this makes him a bad omega after all, or–or something. If he didn’t . . . didn’t nest before, or . . . “I thought I . . . thought I . . .”

I thought I HAD to be an alpha, Kon doesn’t say, but it’s all he can think.

#kon el #conner kent #superboy #red tornado #wip: yj packs up and gets pupped #omegaverse #jan

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chdarling · 4 months ago

Note

As we’re getting closer to a truly awful day for America, I just wanted to check in on you. Things are bleak and about to get so so much worse, I want you to know I’m here and many others are here too when you’re ready

This is very kind of you, thank you. Honestly, I have not been doing great. Watching my neighbors elect a racist, fascist, Nazi-loving rapist triggered a pretty bad depressive episode on top of what was already the worst period of professional and creative burnout of my life, so….I’m struggling. Still trying to claw my way out of the dark. I’m deeply appreciative of the kindness of this community and am sorry that I haven’t (and probably won’t for a little longer) been able to engage the way I once did. I will again one day, and I am so thankful to know all you wonderful people online. <3

On a note that is completely unrelated to this gentle ask, I’ve been getting a ton of messages lately asking for a date when TLE3 is coming out and I don’t feel up to answering them (sorry) so I’m just going to tack this on here since I buried my last post on the subject under a mountain of despair reblogs: TLE3 is going to take a while.

I’m still planning to continue with my writing projects (be they TLE or other things), but right now I’m focusing on securing my own oxygen mask, etc. When I finished posting TLE2, I said that I would be taking a break and also that I would not be posting TLE3 until I had written all of it (like I had for TLE1). Even if I had been writing diligently every single day since I posted the last chapter, I still wouldn’t be done, so please understand that it’s going to take a while. It certainly will not be coming in the next 6 months, very possibly not in 2025. I know some people won’t be happy to hear that, but just a fun statistic: OOTP has 257,045 words and took three years to write/publish after GOF. TLE2 has (and this makes me cringe a little) 407,079 words and took roughly 3 years to write as an unpaid side hobby on top of full time work, education, etc. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (frankly, it just makes me desperately want to retroactively edit the crap out of TLE2 lol), but rather to reiterate that writing a book-length work takes a lot of time, energy, and love. I don’t want it to take 3 years (and I don’t think it will, TLE3 will be a more reasonable length), but it’s certainly not going to be finished in a few months. That would be insanity and I am not that talented lmao.

I do know that the requests for updates come from a place of love and enthusiasm and excitement and I really, truly appreciate that. I also appreciate all of the kind words of the asks I haven’t been answering. Please know that I’ve read them, I love you, and I will be back eventually. I just have to focus on my health right now, and unfortunately these days being online is pretty bad for that, so I'm going to try to be logged off for a while.

And finally, on another completely unrelated but perhaps mildly tangential note: if anyone has any books recommendations or resources on processing climate grief, I, uh, could use them. 🫠

#ch answers #tle3

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lovekabaneri · 2 months ago

Text

TF Monster hunter AU fic "In hindsight"

I wrote a new fic inspired by @keferon TF Monster hunter AU.

Here's a link to AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63512290

Summary: Basically Brainstorm and Quark watch a conspiracy tv show about ancient monsters and as a mech of science, Brainstorm is dismissive of all the crazy theories. He laughs and says it is just bogus… only to end up discovering vorns later that these theories were true and it was actually him.

Story:

Brainstorm was a mech of science and cold, hard facts. And a bit of an ego, and maybe a bit of a crazy scientist streak… alright and maybe a bit too ready to test the limits of what is possible. You get the point.

Because of his personality, he was not very liked both in the academy and the scientific field, yet… even a mech like him managed to somehow find love. He and Quark were fellow students and then co-workers, they had worked together for many vorns, so it was weird to him how he still could not understand how Quark could fall in love with him. Before he could make sense of it all, he and Quark were conjux and moving in together.

………………………..

It was one of those slow and gloomy days on Cybertron, the night was dark with clouds blocking the sky and absolutely POURING outside, so the streets were empty of all traffic. It was a quiet time.

*Du-dun-dudu-du~!*

Music was playing from the screen in their shared hab, the sound loud and clear enough to be recognizable from all the way to Breinstorm’s little lab at home. A mix of dramatic tomes and techno music – absolutely gating on Brainstorm’s audials.

“Ugh! That thing again.” – he groaned and got up.

It was obvious he was not going to get any work done, with the annoying show now on and Quark really enjoyed watching it a lot, so he couldn’t really tell his conjux to turn it off, so he got out of his little lab and headed for the living area to get himself a cube of energon and maybe sit together with Quark.

“Oh, so you decided to finally come out of your lab, Storm?” – Quark was already sitting on the couch with a cube of energon in one servo.

“Well, not like I would have been able to do much at the moment. I still don’t understand why you watch this thing.” – Brainstorm said but sat down beside his conjux and settled comfortably as the show was starting.

“What? It is fun and I like watching all the ridiculous conspiracies they talk about – it is a good way to relax. If I remember correctly, you were also laughing last time we watched Cybertron Dismantled.” – Quark quirked an optic ridge.

“W-well… How can I not laugh at their stupidity?! They were talking complete bogus!” Brainstorm gestured at the TV “Magic? Immortals and Gods walking among us? A monster living in one of the seven oil pools near Cyplex? And don’t get me started on those supposed ‘monsters’ and ‘demons’! The Spark Eaters! We learned about the Age of Hunters in the academy. All those so-called monsters were just different types of beastformers. Like Grimmlock.” – he ranted, almost spilling his energon.

“Haha! You sound even more invested than me in this show with the way you are talking about it.” Quark laughed and put a servo on his conjux’s shoulder “Now, shush, it is starting.”

With a grumble, Brainstorm quieted down and just drank his energon.

On the screen, the theme song and introduction was finally done, the glyphs spelling out the show’s name flashed one last time before the feed cut to a darkened studio with two mech figures sitting in the dim light. Lights turned on, but unlike previous broadcasts, the studio was made to look like a room with a projection on the wall, making it look like they were standing by an open window with a storm outside. There were even occasional flashes and fake thunder sound, reminding the viewers of the storm currently outside.

[Good day or night, dear viewers. It is me, your host, Skidtrace.] – a flashy brown and gold mech with a dark visor smiled, his dentae glinting even in the low light.

[And I am Tsoul, the truth seeker…] – the second mech said, being more muted color of black and light green with facial markings and a distinctly spiky helm shape.

[And we are here, LIVE from our studio to share with you the TRUTH! In today’s episode OF-] -Skid trace bedan.

[[CYBERTRON DISMANTLED!]] – the two said, with Tsoul being quieter and Skidtrace almost shouting.

Brainstorm winced a bit at the loud noise while Quark smirked from his side – the traitor!

[As you have noticed, we have decided to do something a bit different, compared to our usual broadcasts.] – Skidtrace gestured to the background.

[In theme with the current acid rain sweeping the region, we have decided to discuss a ‘being’] Tsoul made air quotes with his digits [That many of you, fellow seekers of truth, might have only vaguely heard about.]

[This episode is dedicated to a lesser-known story from the region of the Lithium flats and the surrounding areas like Vos, Nyon and Tarn. It is said than on stormy nights like these, where acid rains pelter the planet and electric storms light up the skies, a lone figure could be seen zipping through the clouds, the sound of thunder following it as it chases the lightning and tears through the skies! The legendary Thunderbird!] – Skidtrace said enthusiastically.

[It is quite an ancient legend, coming from the Age of Hunters or the ‘Dark Ages’ as some have started calling it in recent times.] Tsoul said with a composed tone, unlike his fellow showrunner [Today we are going to look through the many facts and myths and reveal to you the truth about this ‘mythical beast’. What is it? Could it be real? Or is it something that the government is trying to hide?]

[What are you talking about, Tsoul? Of course it is real! It is one of my favorite stories from home, before I came here to Polyhex! A mysterious beastformer from ancient times, a mythical being even! Flying through the acid rains like it is nothing, bringing with it lightning and thunder!] – Skidtrace gasped in mock offence.

[I know you are biased, being from the area, but we are a reputable source of information and we have to work with facts.] -Tsoul levelled his co-host with a look.

“Feh, yeah right, facts! Nothing factual about made-up conspiracies.” – Brainstorm scoffed.

“Shh! It is getting interesting and I am actually invested in this Thunderbit thing now. Maybe it is some kind of recluse beastformer, living away from civilization or maybe even an undiscovered species.” – Quark said, humoring the show but also honestly interested to see where it is going.

“Quark, you can’t be serious, there’s no creature that can do all that they are saying-]

[You should be aware that a living creature like the Thunderbird can’t exist, not even some of the bravest seekers would dare brave the storms, considering what kind of damage the acid rain and lightning can do to a mech.] – Tsoul continued.

“See, even the crazy guy agrees!” – Brainstorm exclaimed, only to be shoved by Quark.

[Then how do you explain all the myths, sightings and, this time, actual historical proof!] – Skidtrace fired back.

This was their usual routine most of the time, the two hosts having radically different conspiracy theories and trying to convince the audience theirs was right. Skidtrace leaning way into the ancient mythos or magic, gods and the unexplained. Tsoul leaning more to the sci-fi side of things like parallel dimensions, aliens and so on.

[Oh, what is that proof? Other than the very blurry pictures that we have found buring our research? None of which are clear enough to see much, considering they were taken during heavy storms.] – Tsoul gestured to the background.

The projection of a window was replaced by a conspiracy board with different blurry pictures on it. The two hosts started discussing the pictures and the smudged shapes on it, arguing about whether it was actually a bird or a shuttle doing an emergency flight, or maybe an UFO.

[Well, take a look of this, dear viewers! And Tsoul.] Skidtrace said dramatically, adding his partner’s name as an afterthought [With the help of some of my fellow mystic enthusiasts, I got access to a special piece of evidence from the Cybertronian museum of history!]

Then the doors to the studio opened and a few bots with the mark of the museum wheeled in a display cart. A mech that was obviously someone important followed them close by, watching with a careful optic as they brought in the covered cart.

[Dear viewers, say hello to Dictatus, one of the lead curators of the museum!] – Skidtrace introduced.

“Wow, maybe this time they do have actual proof? If the museum really is sponsoring this…” – Quark muttered to himself

“Eh, at least it is better than the ‘ghost’ episode we watched. How ridiculous, the spirits of dead mechs return to the Well, they don’t haunt things. The apparitions were obviously trick of light or due to radiation. And the noises were either from faulty machinery in the abandoned building or due to a scraplet infestation.” – Brainstorm scoffed.

“Yes, maybe that was so, but you have to admit it was a fun episode. You have to admit there are still thing unknown to us out there, ‘Storm.” Quark looked at his conjux “It is why we both became scientists, right? To challenge the boundaries and discover the unknown.”

“Yes, you are right-“

“Plus, it is really fun watching all the crazy theories fly around! It would be SO ridiculous if at least ONE turns out to be true! I know all my colleagues would short-circuit because of it.” – Quark couldn’t help but chuckle as he imagined some of his more annoying colleagues glitch and stutter.

“That is very unlikely to ever happen, but I do have to say I would like to see it.” – Brainstorm added.

As they watched, it turned out the mech known as Dictatus had only come to the show to promote the new exhibition his sector of the museum was doing. It was free advertisement and they would actually get a small sum as compensation for their time, so the museum won in said deal, only having to show on a conspiracy show to collect all the benefits.

“Judging by his face, I don’t think Mr. Curator is too happy to be there.” – Brainstorm remarked.

[And now, for the grand reveal!] Skidtrace gestured and pointed at the cart dramatically [Witness, the indisputable proof of the Thunderbird!]

The cart was uncovered and the camera zoomed in on the item inside the cart display, protected by a thick glass case. Inside was a carefully preserved, if quite weathered, old poster. Both Brainstorm and Quark couldn’t help but lean closer to inspect the piece on display. It looked to be made of old parchment, the kind they used in ancient times before they had datapads, it was a miracle it had survived for so long. On it were ancient glyphs that were faded and a bit smudged. Neither of them could read what was written in the old language, but it was clear it was a wanted poster, judging by the pictures and reward money written below, looking all too similar to current day ones. The picture was also more of a sketch than an actual picture, since photos were not available at the time of its making.

“That is-“ – Brainstorm began.

“Yeah?” – Quark’s eyes focused intently on the screen.

“That’s one really weird and fragged-up looking bird.” – he finished.

“Brainstorm!” – Quark shoved him.

“What?! You know I am not lying!” – he poked his conjux back.

And it really was very weird looking beastformer of some kind. Its root mode was all weird, had a yellow beak-like mouth, sparking eyes, yellow claw-like servos and some weird growths? They were on its back, on its arms and dangling from its back. It stood all odd and hunched, the most normal thing were probably its pedes, since they were at least normal. The drawing next to it was supposedly what its alt mode was supposed to look like-

And it was even weirder! Somehow! It looked like a bird beastformed but with the wrong shape – the beak was too long, the eyes in the wrong angle, int body too flattened, had somehow gained 2 smaller wings by its head along with the two deformed-looking wings that were WAY too far back, again, there were odd growths sticking out of a few places and some long strands dangling along its back.

“This… This doesn’t make any sense! There’s no way such a being would be able to fly!” – Quark pointed at the second drawing.

“See! What did I tell you – bogus!” – Brainstorm crossed his servos.

[As you can see, the fact that the Order of Primus – the biggest hunter organization at that time issued an official wanted poster of the Thunderbird! If you could introduce us to what has been written on this relic from the past, sir Dictatus?] – Skidtrace gave the word to the curator.

[Of course. It is a pretty rare specimen and time took its toll on the pigments used to write this, but we’ve managed to translate the message. It says: “Wanted! Dead or alive. Monster bird of thunder and lightning. Highly dangerous. Reward 100 000 credits.” Or at least that’s the best translation we could make from what’s left of this wanted poster. Apparently, this individual was tr-] – Dictatus started explaining.

[Yeah, yeah! I get it all that, BUT! What’s more important is to ask- Is this REALLY the mythical Thunderbird?!] – Skidtrace rudely interrupted the curator.

[Yes…] Dictatus almost revved his engine, just by looking at his faceplate it was clear he was not happy to be interrupted so rudely [There is no actual mane put on the poster, since the so-called ‘monsters’ were never called by their names, but the description of ‘bird of thunder and lightning’ could be also called Thunderbird.]

[Here you have it, viewers! An irrefutable proof of the Thunderbird’s existence!] – Skidtrace declared.

[Heh, I would not be so sure, dear colleague.] Tsoul finally joined the discussion [Just look at the drawings, at the odd way your ‘Thunderbird’ looks. Such a creature could never fly, not to mention live for so long!]

[But-] – Skidtrace began.

[BUT I have a much more plausible theory as to this ‘being’s’ existence!] Tsoul stood up and started walking, the camera followed him [As you know, back then majority of mechs were monoformers, unlike today when all have developed the ability to transform into an alt mode, even having triple changers in rare cases. Back then, the fearful, more primitive mechs labeled beastformers as monsters, solely because they were different, as a way to explain it to themselves, they blamed some sort of dark force for their abilities. So, what do you think they thing of something unknown? Are you following me?]

[Uh… no?] – Skidtrace scratched his heml.

[What I am trying to say is that this ‘monster’is no monster at all! The mechs of that time saw something odd, unexplainable, so they made it into something they could understand easily – a bird beastformer. But, no! It was not a beastformer! It was a SPACESHIP!] - Tsoul suddenly proclaimed.

[What?! How can it be a spaceship?! They didn’t even have electricity back then!] – Skidtrace countered.

[That’s exactly it! THEY had no way of knowing what a ship was, so they called it a weird bird monster! Look at these! These look kind of like the wings of a shuttle! And these ‘growths’ in the back – they are fuel cables! Or charging diodes! Maybe the reason it was flying through the storm was to recharge its engine with the electricity from the lightning! The ancient mechs connecting that to the ‘bird’ actually bringing the storm. They were quite superstitious back then.] - Tsoul nodded his helm.

At this point, the museum workers looked on the verge of just packing and leaving the two show hosts to argue.

[Then what are you suggesting?] – Skidtrace scowled at his partner.

[This is no living being! It is a spaceship! ALIENS!] Tsoul said loudly [An advanced race from another planet, much more developed than our own visited Cybertron in the times of yore and THIS is one proof of such aircraft being seen by our ancestors and written off as another of the ‘monsters’ that were being hunted at the time.]

The show then devolved into a very heated discussion of which conspiracy theory was the ‘correct’ one – whether it is some mystical monster or actual advanced alien life that the government is hiding. At some point, the museum staff just packed their things and stormed off in frustration all while Skidtrace and Tsoul argued about Monsters vs Aliens.

Quark had a good laugh at the crazy conspiracies that were shared and also because at some point Brainstorm started arguing back th the screen how stupid the hosts were.

“Ugh! I can’t believe I lost so much time on this stupid show!” – Brainstorm grumbled.

“Come on, you liked it! I also had a good laugh, so I can’t say our time was wasted. You got really into it at one point~” – Quark teased.

“Don’t remind me! There’s no way such a thing could have ever existed. Neither the mystic monster, not the so-called alien spaceship! It was just a bunch of nonsense and no one just pointed the obvious that maybe the artist was really bad at drawing pictures!” – Brainstorm pointed out and received a laugh from Quark.

……………………………

It would be vorns later, when Quark started getting sick and was diagnosed with an incurable spark disease, that Brainstorm did the unthinkable.

He managed to invent a time machine and went back in time to the ‘Dark Age’ to try and save the one called Perceptor, in hopes of using his research and equipment to help cure his conjux.

He found the mech… only to discover Perceptor was a Spark Eater, a deadly monster only heard in horror stories and fiction, and that he was on the verge of starvation. Needless to say, Brainstorm was lucky that he survived the attack. Then, he realized that Perceptor did not have any advanced equipment, HE himself was the equipment used to detect (or more correctly taste) the defects in sparks.

After that, a lot of things happened – the two were chased by the hunters as heretics, they ended up having to run for their lives and eventually ended on a crew of monsters that were looking for a safe haven. Brainstorm might have been a bit stuck, since his machine got damaged in his initial scuffle with Perceptor, but the two worked well together to develop a cure for Quark. Life was going well.

……………………………..

One day, Brainstorm and Drift had to go to a nearby town to get supplies for their travels. The two donned robes and cloaks to hide themselves. The cumbersome, restrictive material felt awful on Brainstorm’s wings but it was not like he could go without it. He was too recognizable and different from the monoform mechs of the time.

They were passing by stalls offering different types of crystals and metal when Brainstorm noticed a board with different sheets of parchment nailed to it. He approached out of curiosity, noting the different notices posted on it and… the wanted posters…

Criminals, crooks, murderers and ‘monsters’ like those in his crew. It was then that he noticed IT. It was a familiar-looking poster from his memory files. He had seen it long ago on the TV, but this one was brand new. All the glyphs were clearly visible and no parts were smudged or faded. Brainstorm had quickly learned this time’s language and writing system to be able to work with Perceptor and the others, so he was immediately able to translate the poster.

“Wanted! Dead or alive. Monster bird of thunder and lightning speed. Highly dangerous and fast. Travels with a group of other dangerous monsters and a titan. Reward 100 000 credits.” – he read to himself.

It was then that it hit him. The ‘fragged-up’ bird he mocked on TV was HIM! And that ‘weird growth’ was actually Perceptor clinging to his back for dear life! The memory was still fresh in his processor – the two were chased by hunters and were cornered, the storm was coming and Perceptor was injured, so Brainstorm had been forced to reveal his jet alt form and fly to safety. Poor Perceptor had wrapped his prehensile limbs around his frame and was clinging for dear life the whole flight. Obviously not used to a jet’s high speed. And the ‘thunder’ was him breaking the sound barrier for a second in his haste.

‘Well, as they say hindsight is 20/20. When I get back and Quark hears about all this, he’ll probably collapse from laughing too hard, especially after learning most of the conspiracy theories turned out to be true.’ – Brainstorm thought.

“Hey, ‘Storm! Hurry up and get your aft moving! We have errands to do!” – Drift pulled him away from the wanted poster.

“Alright, alright! Don’t pull me so hard.” – he grumbled and followed the younger beastformer.

He was going to get the cure, fix his time machine and return to Quark. He was a genius, one of the smartest mechs out there and failure was NOT an option for him!

#transfomers #fanfiction #monster hunter au #tf brainstorm #tf quark #tf perceptor #drift

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wordpress-blaze-13004815 · 3 hours ago

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Back to some beginnings.

As my fingers pause above the keyboard, hoovering, awaiting the moment to descend, I wonder what can I share beyond the view, the sounds, the scents, the seasons, and somedays that feels like enough.

And so I write, as I have done over ten thousand days before this one.

Just to write.

What's the point, I question?

Just to write.

To hone my craft creatively. And share my words courageously.

It may not seem like much, but sometimes I feel it's all I have to give.

What else can I do to contribute and connect?

Do we ever really know?

But what we can always do is try.

So I try and write, and hope that what I share may be well received.

A quiet life.

A quiet voice.

A life with time and space to listen.

I never felt as lonely as in a big city surrounded by so many.

So much noise, I could not hear.

So many voices, I could not be heard.

Solace was found in wide and wild, open space and emptiness.

These are the sounds I wish to hear, above the mindless chatter and seemingly senseless cacophony bombarding from big loud places.

youtube

We were an odd sort back then. (Maybe we still are.)

There was Tim the goat man who'd pop up half clad in the wild sage bush when and where you'd least expect, with wide eyes and disheveled hair, looking around saying, "Seen my goats?"

There was the Mama Cass mama with long flowing floral skirts and a big booming voice that would hug you so tight you'd find yourself lost in her abundant bosom.

Then, we called our world "alternative." Choosing to build, live and be outside the box. Not a part of the system. None of the above.

So you see, it wasn't about intentionally living without. It was just about living. However we could.

Solid walls were an upgrade to a tent, and that's where my baby and dogs and I had been living before my first strawbale was built.

Now "off grid" often means living with all the comforts of "on grid," but with a sense of responsibility and independence. And that's great too.

I'm not saying this is "the" way. It's just our way. It works for me.

In light of that...

We spent the last several months downsizing our plans for the cabin we will be building this summer.

Over and over, we worked the plans out to be smaller and smaller. Not a trendy tiny house. Just a Little Cabin.

Less foot print. Less concrete. Less plumbing and electric (if at all to begin with).

And built with our trees, and our hands. A labor of love.

The smaller our plans got, the more simple our ideas became, the less stress we felt, and the lighter we became.

Simplicity is a temptation that entices me.

I may forever be lured by the fantasy of getting back on my horse and heading out, with nothing more than my pack horse can carry.

Just get on your horse and go.

Though the likelihood of me ever doing that again is slim. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.

Sure, I think about it. Where and how I'd go. What I'd do differently next time. What else I'd take and what I could leave behind. Maybe I'd even try to convince my husband to go.

But that's a whole other story, another adventure I don't need to be thinking about now.

In fact, this week, I'm not even thinking about logs, sawdust, milling, cleaning slash and making one board and beam at a time, and the story we'll share of putting them all together.

Right now, my story is simply about preparing, planting, weeding and watering.

Until next time,

With love, always love,

Gin

Source: Back to some beginnings.

#Youtube

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thoughtsforsoob · 1 year ago

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ways he shows he loves you - stray kids

a/n: I want to write more to stray kids so here you go! I know I have a bunch of request at the moment and while I do plan on getting to them, I have to allow myself some freedom to create what I want as well! please enjoy and as always, requests are open and so is my 200 event!! (omg im past 300 now and I am so incredibly grateful! thank you so freaking much!)

bang chan - taking you home

I feel like chan considers taking you home as a huge step in your relationship, since ehe seems to love home so much.

he has a nice connection with his family so for you to go meet them means he's basically already planning the wedding

he likes to take you to places he remembers from when he was little (which are probably not too many places because he was just a little guy when he started training)

he also loves to make plans for you, his mom and his sisters hang out together

"you three go out! im paying for girls day"

he enjoys seeing pictures of his favorite people out, having fun together and getting along

the only thing he doesn't enjoy 100% is the teasing that collectively happens between you and his siblings against him but he doesn't;t mind it in the end because it just means you're comfortable with them and vice versa

and when he watches you and berry meeting for the first time...again...wedding bells are going off in his head

minho - supporting your hobbies

I don't see him as someone who is veery comfortable with just saying I love you all the time so he pressers to show it instead of say it

his way of doing so is by getting interested in your hobbies and most likely participating in them

lets just say you're a big fan of collection photo cards and trading! along with that, you also like to make bracelets for concerts! (lmao so cliche but this is what I can explain best! feel free to insert your own interests during the following!)

he definitely buys you albums all the time and when you don't pull him from a stray kids album, he rolls his eyes and keeps buying more until you pull him

he also loves watching you pack trades so he goes stationary shopping with you and buys you the cutest packing materials

he even packs a few trades for you and sneaks in a bunch of extra stickers and other freebies

he will also partake in bracelet making every time you attend a concert!

he loves sitting at the table, making bracelets with pretty beads (he insists on buying you the fancy glass beads for this project), watching a drama and eating snacks.

just seeing you happy and in your element and being able to support it is how he shows his love.

changbin - planning dates

idk about you guys but I feel like guys always leave it to their girlfriend to plan dates and come up with date ideas all the time

changbin is the exception

he knows all of the spots in the city and wants to take you to all of them eventually

he has a running list in a little journal he purchased when he first met you and started going on dates with you

he writes down the names of places he wants to take you to and crosses them out in highlighter when you eventually go so you can still see what he'd written down

he plans trips that vary anywhere from 2 weeks in LA to a evening picnic by the river

his favorite are "spontaneous dates" (in quotation marks because to him, no date is really spontaneous. he always puts some work into it, even if it's a late night run to the convenience store or a trip to the mall)

he's always navigating and making sure everything is perfect

his favorite part of the date is when you praise him for being so thoughtful and creative

he is so happy that he's impressing you and making you happy

he promises to himself that even when you both are old and grey, he's still going to sweet you off your feet with his amazing date ideas

hyunjin - remembers everything you tell him

(no bc...when people remember details about me I feel so happy)

anyways, he is such a good listener and pays attention to detail

whenever you mention something in passing, he makes a note of it mentally or if he knows he'll forget, he will write is down in his notes app

one example of this is during one exam season

2 weeks ago, you had told him bout your finals schedule and when it would start

on the first day, right at 6am he shows up with your favorite coffee order (or anything else if you don't drink coffee) and your favorite breakfast! along with a care package for the rest of finals!

the care package includes: two hoodies of his, you favorite candies, chips, ramyeon, and a couple other things he knew you'd find useful

he remember you telling him you had to get up at that hour to start getting ready for your 8am calc final

when he shows you, you damn near cry because of his thoughtfulness

he eats breakfast with you and makes sure your fueled up and able to focus on your test so you can ace it

the way he also thinks about you when he's out doing things like shopping

Oh I brought you back some eggs because I remember you said you didn't have anymore. also, this new toner because I noticed yours was running low last time I stayed the night."

jisung - never letting you pay

his love language is essentially paying for everything he can for you

if you deny him and tell him you're going to pay, just the thought of you doing something he is more than willing to do for yo has smoke coming out of his eyes like a cartoon character

oh boy and when you actually beat him and pay, he is red in the face

"sungie, I just paid for two coffee's. why are you all red like that?"

"I could've paid! now you have to let me pay for the next 100 things we get together!"

you roll his eyes at him when he makes these silly compromises with you and just rolls with it

for him, it's not that he thinks you can't pay for yourself because ehe knows you are more than capable

if anything, he's proud that his baby is an independent person and can take care of themselves

the reason he does it because he wants you to save your money and spend it on things for you and he wants to take care of you this being the best way he knows how

oh my god...

god forbid you buy him any gifts

he's all flustered and whining about how you shouldn't "waste your money" on him

after talking with him, he lets you pay sometimes but it's rare

felix - matching jewelry

it's all fun and games until you both get exposed...

before we go there, let's talk about how this started

for your first anniversary, Felix wanted to give you something special but had no ides what it should be

he was scrolling through TikTok one night and he came across a repost from you and it gave him the perfect idea

you reposed a couples post about a necklace with the bf's initial on it and he immediately got one made

you better believe hat we went to a famous custom designer and everything to get this made just the way he knew you'd love it

you gives it to you on your anniversary and to your surprise, not only do you have a "f" on your necklace, he get's a matching necklace with your initial on it...

he can't wear it out much but he always put's it on in private

one day...little sunshine over here has to leave to the airport with the group for an overseas concert and he forgets to take off the damn necklace...

"WHO IS (y/i)?" stays are going wild online and trying to find out who it is

from now on, Felix is more careful but now everyone knows his secret :0

seungmin - bring affectionate in front of others

look, this boy is not very affectionate, much less in front of other people

he's a very 'behind closed doors' type of person

when it comes to you though...he's not afraid to show his affection

the first time you noticed it was when he first invited you to meet his member at the dorm for dinner and movie night

he picked you up and brought you inside

you greet all of the members but right afterwards, he immediately just starts to cling to you

he has a hand on your thigh during dinner and during some shot periods, he's actually straight up holding your hand while eating

the boys look at him like he's finally gone insane and you're looking at him with such a confused expression

finally, jeongin of all people, breaks the silence

"hyung? I know you like (y/n) a lot but you're not letting her eat by holding her hand."

his face goes red because he's been caught and he lets go of your hand, putting a low apology to you

when the movie portion of the night comes around, he insists on your sitting right on his lap but if you decline, he is sitting so close next to you that he's literally going to merge into your body

jeongin - sharing clothing/shopping with you

(cw: I know not everyone feels comfy with the idea of sharing clothes for whatever reason and it's totally valid so I made two different options here!)

as we all know, jeongin loves fashion and anything that has to do with it

it's only natural that he wants to involve you into his hobby!

he wants to dress you up all the time!

sometimes, he'll drag you to his room and start to pick items from his closet to replace what you're already wearing...

you have to glare at him so he won't change your whole outfit

he also loves to take you shopping!

he walks into every store with you and asks your opinion on everything because he knows you're actually the one wearing it so you have to like these items too!

shopping can be a very stressful and traumatic experience for some people (ME!)

he understands if this is the case for you and tries his best to give you all the time you need and not overwhelm you with trying too many things on at once and not showing you 101 options all at once

if you don't like how something fits, he will never pressure you to show him anyway

he also never pressures you to go shopping if you're not in the correct headspace for it

there is always assurance from him that no matter what, he loves the way you look in clothes you both pick together!

he also loves to take ootd pics of you and he lets you take his!

he def never pressures you to do this either if you don't wanna

his soft launch of you is a pick of your latest ootd together but your face has a cute little fox sticker over it :D

#stray kids headcanons #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids headcannon #skz fluff #skz texts #skz #skz imagines #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Alhaitham & Kaveh give the vibes that they’d own a hybrid, like bunny or sheep darling so they can delude themselves into thinking they’re keeping them safe. or maybe they’re both hybrids too? maybe just Kaveh is?? the possibilities r so endless with this au

tw - implied non///con, unhealthy relationships, dumbification and unbalanced power dynamics.

there are actually so many possibilities with kalhaitham,,,, i can see any of these dynamics being really fun, but i am absolutely in-love with the concept of kaveh finding a stray bunny hybrid while scoping out an empty plot of land for an upcoming project (that is, if his client actually coughs up enough funding, this time) and immediately deciding he just can't bare to leave you all by yourself. alhaitham gets home in time to catch kaveh wrestling you into a bath, having already made a valiant effort to comb the burrs and mud out of your matted fur, and attempts to warn his roommate about how much attention hybrids can demand, how moody and absent-minded rabbits tend to be in particular, but of course, kaveh's too stubborn to listen. since kaveh swears up and down that you'll be staying in his bedroom and cared for with kaveh's meager commissions, he lets it go (even if he does keep tighnari on speed-dial, just in case).

you are a little cute, once you get cleaned up. bunny hybrids tend to be somewhat empty behind the eyes, and you're no exception, perfectly happy to be cared for and doted on and dressed up in kaveh's pretty, frilly outfits so long as it means you're fed well and allowed to spend your days bundled up in kaveh's fluffy, expensive blankets. you don't say much, not when you're alone with alhaitham, but kaveh seems more focused on treating you like some oversized stuffed animal than making conversation - always hauling you into his lap and fawning over your floppy ears, fussing over your outfits and your diet and your rough you must've had it before he took you in.

really, the only time alhaitham hears your voice is as he passes kaveh's door at night, when he pauses to listen to kaveh's cooing and the strangled, muffled sounds you let out, so unlike anything he's ever heard you make before. sometimes, he'll linger longer than he knows he should, fuck his fist as he pictures your plush body bouncing on kaveh's thigh - your big, dumb eyes wide and watery and your little pink nose twitching as you cum for the thousandth time. it's no wonder you've always got that glazed-over, faraway look; he's surprised you can bring yourself to think at all when kaveh's constantly fucking you to the brink of unconsciousness, constantly splitting you open on his tongue or his fingers or his cock whenever alhaitham turns his back. then again, alhaitham would be lying if he said he doesn't see why kaveh is so feral, when it comes to you.

if he had less self-restraint, he would've bent you over the first time he caught you traipsing around the house in one of your tiny skirts, would've told you to get on your knees as soon as he realized exactly what his roommate was using that pretty mouth for. you're lucky he has more self-respect than kaveh does. you're lucky he takes better care of his pets than kaveh does.

you're lucky that, when comes time for his turn to fuck your brains away, alhaitham's already decided he's going to treat you like the animal you are rather than the toy kaveh so clearly wants you to be.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere alhaitham #yandere kaveh

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gotham-daydreams · 4 months ago

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Are you alive? Is 2025 your date of death? We miss you mate

HI!!! OKAY SINCE A LOT OF PEOPLE ARE CONCERNED AND I GENUINELY DON'T WANT ANYONE TO WORRY (especially with how the year is kicking off) I'll say it-

I AM ALIVE!!!

I know it's been a long while, and I apologize for that!! I didn't want to start off the year this way, and actually wanted to start it off with a one shot (and the one that was supposed to come out on Christmas, along with the remaining chapters of the red dawn and so on) but I'll be honest and say that I got distracted, caught up in one too many things, and fell out of DC for a hot minute before crawling back like a man starved.

I've missed you all so much, and for the past few days have been trying to get those things I mentioned together so that I can finally have something up again! Even if I've royally failed the challenge back in October, those last chapters will and are still uneditied and basically made on a time crunch. The oneshots are getting done as we speak, and Chapter 4 is in the works :]

If it sounds like a lot and absolutely insane, that's because it is!! I'll be honest and say that I'm more excited for other projects then what I'm currently working on, but am focusing more on getting things done because you all deserve that and especially for all of your patience and kindness! I know I've said it before, but the Not Series really isn't my best work, and I don't think it will be, but even then I still want to produce a Chapter that you'll enjoy - but if anyone sees a decline in quality (despite the first and 2nd chapter essentially being written in one sitting and posted on the same day), that's probably why!

I do have some updates regarding some of the fics I said I was planning on writing, with the biggest update being in regards to "Ghost" as I've essentially almost rewritten the entire plot at this point, but I'll get there when I get there.

Nevertheless, yes, I am still alive! Even if you probably won't hear too much from me until those couple of things get done, I'll try to multitask and such as much as I can! The way of how I post things may be a little odd, but it'll mostly be with when I get them done, and with all the time I have at the moment - well, I might actually be able to meet my own deadline this time around... even if that new years oneshot is already 13 days late, and I'm not going to talk about the rest of the stuff I have to work on.

Regardless, rest assured! I'm not dead yet, and progress is being made! ... And what better way to show that then being late once again! LOL

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #not series #the red dawn #batfam oneshots #trust me i cannot believe how late i am either #but at this point i'm tired of it and just trying to get things done #i don't want to produce something half baked either but i am trying my best to keep things fresh and interesting as well #i will say that the oneshots do get a little dark tho!#and so does the red dawn but that's a given considering how that little series is going #again i know i failed that challenge without a doubt #and honestly writing 5 whole chapters in 5 days was crazy enough #especially with how my writing style is #not to mention the ideas i come up with #but again i want to try and keep things the way they were supposed to be initially #the not series is going to be rushed #that i will admit #but its also so that i can focus on stories i feel are more interesting #and have actual substance and effort put into it #that isn't to say that i don't like it #it was just a rushed idea i put out haphazardly and am following with an equally rushed out story #and i feel like you guys definitely deserve better then that #besides #i have plenty of other ideas for neglected readers that are - in my opinion - much more interesting anyway!

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numberonetacostan · 28 days ago

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Do you have any more autism Taco headcanons? I know theres only so many "she doesn't like loud noises" but maybe through like specific scenarios or something? I find the idea really interesting, theres just already so much on this blog

Hi there!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in your request!! :] I am down for autistic Taco anytime my dear it is a lovely excuse for me to project onto her.

Ask and you shall receive, more autistic Taco headcanons!

A little nervous stim I like to headcanon for her is her bumping her fists together in front of her. We see her do it once when she's talking to Pickle, and I have taken it and made it her little stim for when she's anxious or scared. I like to think Mic would eventually pick up on it and use it to help gauge Taco's mood.

I think Taco would be pretty rigid when it comes to her schedule, which could end up being a problem once she's start living with the others again. No she can't help with construction right now, are you insane, it's noon which means it's time for her second cup of tea for the day, she'll get to whatever you need after and that's that. It'd probably be annoying to the others first, but at some point they'd see her get nervous and upset if she can't have her scheduled tea times and such, and just let her go about her business when she needs to.

Despite Taco wanting to and being happy that she gets to join the group again, I honestly don't see her branching out too much. She likes her alone time quite a lot, yeah? I think she'd get frustrated trying to do things with others pretty easily. I think she'd just do what we've seen her doing so far- making a few friends and just following them around. She follows Mic around. She follows Goo around. She's not purposefully cold to anyone, but she isn't dying to be part of every single activity, yeah?

Sleep disturbances!! A higher percentage of autistic people experience sleep issues/circadian rhythm abnormalities and Taco has lived alone in the woods for years. Her circadian rhythm is incredibly messed up!! It would take ages for her to get on a semi-normal sleep cycle, and even then she'd probably decide to nap sometimes because she is tired and The Sun Is Not The Boss Of Her! I like to think she'd stay up longer than normal and sleep for long than normal, solely because that's my issue. I am projecting.

I've spoken about Taco being low-empathy before, but I like to think post-finale she gets so conscious about not trying to be mean/harsh/blunt etc. (which I am right about anyway since we just saw that in the tour promo) and would more or less give up on masking in that aspect. If she sees that someone's expression has changed she'll just ask why. It would probably get people in the habit of explaining their feeling to her automatically, which would be quite helpful for her. I can imagine Mic wincing after she casually says something that makes her look bad (ex: explaining how she could have burned down the hotel very easily because it's layout and building materials were a recipe for disaster [she has this plan because she schemes to help her fall asleep but no one knows that]) and she just asks Mic, like, "Mic, you're making a Taco-did-something-wrong face. What happened? What did I do?"

#inanimate insanity #loomy's answers #ii taco #taco ii #mic ii #ii mic #inanimate insanity hc #autistic taco

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flamingpudding · 2 years ago

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Fictober23 Prompt: 19 - "What if we're wrong?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Sort of Danny's perspective and a different side to Prompt 4, probably not as creative as the awesome reblogs and comments but hope people will still like it. Also posting this early too because I am an impatient B and going to be busy with work tomorrow again.

Danny looked nervously up at his sister who was giving him an encouraging smile and had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. His gaze wandered back to the paper in his hands, a face with a confident smile printed largely on it. A cutout from a business magazine Jazz had happened to read.

"It's not too late, we could still just turn around and go back to Amity." Danny muttered, the paper crumpling ever so slightly in his hands. His sister sighed, wishing that her brothers best friends could have come along with them.

"Danny, it will be fine." She told him her hand moved from his shoulder to rub comforting circles on her brother's back. "Let's settle into the hotel first. We have your entire semester vacation to figure out how to continue from there."

"But Jazz, what if we're wrong? Just because I was adopted as a baby and that Ancestry thing I did in middle school contacted us about someone matching up with the DNA I sent there in middle school, it doesn't mean that he is…"

"Danny." Jazz cut in, lightly pushing her brother forward so he would start moving. "You are starting to overthink again."

"But we could be wrong!" Danny insisted once more the paper now completely crumbled in his hands. "This sounds too good to be true! And you know that good things don't just easily happen to me! I know something is going to happen to mess it all up or maybe I will mess it all up and…"

Jazz turned on her brother to make him face her, they had barely managed to step out of the airport before her brother fell into another spiral, one of many he had ever since that Ancestry Agency had contacted them. She cradled her brother's face in her hands making him look at her.

"Danny. When you had that school project about Ancestry in middle school, Mom and Dad admitted to having you adopted as a baby but not your twin brother you already freaked out then. You did that whole DNA thing with the school project as cover in hopes that your brother might have done it too. When nothing came back from it, what did I tell you then?"

"That I was an idiot to do it behind your back?" Jazz pinched her little brother's cheeks with a fond smile.

"Not that, what else did I say?"

"That I will always be your brother no matter what?"

"And?"

"And… and that I shouldn't lose hope because you would help me if I really wanted to meet him."

Jazz changed her hold on her brother from cradling his face to hugging him tightly. "That's right idiot. So if you really want to go back to Amity Park we can easily do that, there is no need for you to panic." She felt her brother nodd into her shoulder. "So do you really want to go back?"

"I guess… I could at least see if all these magazines are telling the truth and if he really is living a good life." Jazz pulled away from her brother now holding him by his shoulders and beamed at him happily. Before leading her brother to the hotel she had booked for them.

Both did not notice that their little exchange had happened in perfect view of a surveillance camera and had gotten caught by someone who had gotten interested in their movements ever since a certain someone had a little freak out in regards to finding someone that shared his DNA.

Later at night on the same day, Danny found himself unable to sleep. Feeling restless he decided to take a look at the night sky's of Gotham in hopes to calm his growing nervousness ever since he arrived in this city. Jazz was sleeping peacefully in the room next to his, so to not disturb her, he changed forms, turned invisible and phased through several ceilings until he reached the roof.

Once there Danny dropped his invisibility as well as transformation and just sat on the roof, not on the edge mind you, but by the door that usually would have led up here doing his best to look as much as a normal civilian trying to enjoy the night sky as possible. He had heard about Batman not wanting any Metas in his city, Phantom probably wouldn't be very welcomed either then.

Danny sat there staring up at the cloudy skies, frowning how with the light pollution and clouds he was unable to see even a single star. He was contemplating the pros and cons about changing form and flying above the cloud level to see the stars when he heard a soft thud not too far from him. Too silent to be picked up by normal hearing but his ghost enchanted one picked it up.

"You are not from Gotham, are you?" Danny tensed at the voice that resounded over the roof. His head turned towards where the voice came from and noticed the figure shadowed by the clouds, glad in red and black colores. "Gothamites know not to be out on roofs at night."

Danny swallowed but didn't move as the figure stepped closer. "You are Red Robin."

"So you know of me?" Danny watched how the other twirled around a bo-staff, if he didn't know better he would have said that the vigilante appeared nervous.

"My best friend kind of told me about the vigilantes of Gotham when he learned that I was going to visit the city." He carefully admitted to Red Robin and Danny wasn't lying Tucker had prepared an entire list about Gotham's vigilantes as well as all the celebrities. Danny was very thankful that he had not mentioned to his best friend that Tim Drake-Wayne might be the twin he had been looking for for years now. That would have been a whole other ordeal he didn't want to deal with yet.

"Got a favorite yet?" The vigilante asked and did Danny imagine it or was his tone weirdly hopeful?

He shrugged as answer, noting how the vigilantes' shoulders appear to drop in disappointment. Though a moment later Red Robin walked a bit closer and crouched, while Danny had yet to move from his sitting position. "So… why are you out on the roof late at night?"

"I was hoping to see the stars."

"The stars?"

"Stargazing always helped me calm down." Danny admitted turning his gaze from the vigilante to the cloudy sky. He didn't take his eyes completely off the other, his shoulders were still tense but for some reasons his body wanted to relax in the other's presence.

"You went up on a roof late at night to calm down?" He eyed the vigilante, wondering why the other was so interested in Danny right now but also wondering if Danny was really going to dumb his whole emotional turmoil on a complete stranger. What would Jazz say if she knew about this? Probably psycho analyze this whole situation and reason that Danny just wanted someone not involved to just listen to him without the objectives Jazz wasn't able to provide.

He eyed the vigilante once more, noting how the other appeared to be just as tense as Danny was, before opening his mouth. "I am only in Gotham because the twin I have been looking for for years lives here."

The vigilante hummed, sounding interested, indicating for Danny to continue. "I don't even know if he knows about me or would even want to see me. For all I know he doesn't even know I exist. Mom and Dad adopted me from the orphanage as a baby but not my twin brother."

Danny started to ramble on not noticing the sharp intake of air Red Robin took. "He may have a perfectly good life! And here I am appearing out of nowhere and possibly destroying it! What if I mess up his whole family dynamic! I mean how crazy is that? A stranger just appears out of nowhere saying he is your twin with no proof other than the stupid mail from an Ancestry DNA Testing facility stating they found a DNA similar to your own? Ancients, this sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud!"

In his rant Danny hadn't noticed Red Robin having come closer and their hand carefully hovering over his shoulder. "Hey…"

He looked up sharply at the vigilante next to him that was now placed on his shoulder, radiating a warmth that felt grounding to Danny. "I am sure it is not as bad as you think it is. If those Ancestry people contacted you, they might have contacted your twin also and who knows he could possibly be very interested in learning more about your whole situation?"

Danny blinked at the vigilante that was apparently trying to give him a reassuring smile despite the upper half of his face being covered by a mask and he couldn't help but return the smile with a small grateful one of his own.

The vigilante looked like he wanted to say something else but Danny's phone suddenly started buzzing, he hurried to pull it out of his pockets noticing several texts from his sister arriving in a rapid fashion.

"My sister." He muttered, looks like Jazz had woken up and tried to check on him like he was still a little child, he smiled fondly at the phone.

Side eyeing the vigilante, both stood up. "I uh…"

"You better hurry back in. She will probably grow more worried the longer you stay up here."

Blinking at the vigilante, Danny nodded, moving towards the door that would lead back into the building while the vigilante started to move towards the edge of the building. Before Danny could try to see if the door was locked or open he turned over his shoulder wanting to voice his thanks to the other for listening to his ranting but found the vigilante gone.

Staring for a moment before shrugging Danny let his eyes wander over the roofs of the other buildings just in case before deciding to forgo his transformation and just phase through the floors invisible without it until he reached his room.

In the shadows on the roof of the building to the side Red Robin arched an eyebrow under his mask before turning to the coms. "Meta status is confirmed. Also Nightwing, think you can help me create the most natural and unsuspicious situation for me to meet him tomorrow? I already have a couple of ideas."

"I think we can work something out easily RR."

"Good."

"It sounded like there was a whole lot more to this twin situation than we originally thought."

"Yea..."

"Chin up Red! We will get to the bottom of this!"

"He likes stargazing..." Red Robin mutter to himself, not really listening to his siblings on the coms. "I will take him to the planetarium, first chance I got."

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v0idhaert · 4 months ago

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scott smajor with number 7 for your spotify asks?

omg anon sorry it took me so long to get to this, but here: Scott smajor with number 7, Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance!

textless and bgless under cut, as well as really long ramble caption vvvvvvv

I hope this is alright! If nothing else, I’m so so proud of drawing hair braiding, that took. So. Long. lol, anyway yeah I also really like how Scott’s hair came out, and I’ve never made a third life Jimmy design before so I came up with this on the fly and I really like how it looks. But yeah, I saw which song it was and thought of them immediately, Scott was so distraught at Jimmy’s death in third life, (prepare for ramble that is mildly unintelligible if you are not really geeky about MCR lore lol. The main stuff you need to understand is that mcr has four albums, I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, The Black Parade, and Danger Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys, and all of them have a lot of lore) like they are so demolition lovers coded, especially because of the whole back from the dead thing where Jimmy is alive and well in later seasons but Scott is still grieving him and the memory thing with winners remembering which means Scott remembers third life and Jimmy doesn’t, reminds me of like (from my understanding of the story, which is different from other peoples because MCR lore is very vague) the inner turmoil of the lover from the three cheers lore who went to hell, and his lover is in heaven and on one hand he wants to reunite but on the other he knows his lover doesn’t even know he’s alive (-ish. Not sure how much his situation qualifies as “living”) and feels guilty, thinking that she probably won’t even want to see him again, because he’s killed so many people and he doesn’t want to ruin her paradise (I mean she misses him too and wants to see him again but he doesn’t know that, and also he rightly recognizes that he is an actual sociopath. I’m not saying c!Scott is crazy (well, as not-crazy as you can be in life series death games. Everyone is at least a little bit off their rocker. Woah, parentheses within parentheses, what is this!?), but I am saying the guy demolition lover absolutely is. I am also saying that c!Scott has self worth issues. At least in my headcannons. I also have a similar headcannon for Joel. Maybe that’s why they hate each other, their mad that they can’t sacrifice themselves for each other and then decided a murderous rivalry was the only option/j ) but yeah so the torturing themselves over a lover who is both dead for them and also at the same time alive and well but unreachable and in a better place than them and wanting to be with them but holding back for fear of hurting them which ends up hurting them anyway (which is also a theme in the black parade, so ig you could also kinda compare Scott to The Patient, but patient always felt more Joel or Pearl coded to me. Also yes I know I already made a post about smalletho demo lovers au, but idk I can have both smalletho and flower husbands demo lovers I just like projecting my interests onto,,,,also my interests ig lol) is something Scott and the sinner demolition lover have in common. Also this song makes me cry. So much. Could barely even draw this through the tears lol/silly, and I’m exaggerating but less than you’d think. Unfortunately I am a crier. I also cry at Summertime from danger days, pretty much all of three cheers but especially I never told you what I do for a living, demolition lovers from bullets (btw for non MCR fans these are album and song names. Also the demo lover’s story starts in bullets with the song titled for them, and then is continued in three cheers for sweet revenge) as well as I don’t love you, wttbp, the end, mama, and famous last words from black parade. And those are just the MCR songs, not counting all the other sad songs from other bands. I am a CRIER lol. But yeah, thank you sm for the ask anon I really enjoyed drawing this!

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shima-draws · 2 years ago

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Tell us about the AU! I know you want to!!

WAUGHHH. AGHHH. OKAY. OKAY SO. I've been watching one of my favorite content creators play through the DLC. Early on in the playthrough he was tossing around theories and said "Maybe KIERAN is Ogerpon??" and that gave me a BRILLIANT THOUGHT.

Ogerpon Kieran AU.......

I've already thought of a very long and complex backstory for this LOL but to simplify it. Before the ogre and its human companion came to Kitakami, said companion was actually living a very happy life with his child. However, they were caught up in the midst of a great war that ended up taking the child's life. The man was so overcome with grief that it summoned a great being (I'm thinking Xerneas), who blessed his dead child with new life. And that child was reborn as Ogerpon!! So kinda like how children who get lost in the woods and die are reborn as Phantump.

Fast forward to many many years later. A long chain of events leads to Carmine's grandfather's...father (so, her great-grandpa?) meeting Ogerpon and vowing to make it a new mask, a mystical and powerful mask that could grant wishes. Sadly, Carmine's great-grandpa wasn't able to complete the mask before he died. This project was eventually picked up by Carmine's father (and I have a whole other thing about him but I'm not gonna get into it right now lol). Carmine's father forms a very close bond with Ogerpon as he continues to gather materials to finish the wish mask. He expresses his desire for Ogerpon to finally be able to walk among the villagers with its name cleared, and for Ogerpon to meet his only daughter. He leaves for a journey to find the last material for the mask...and never returns 😔

Carmine's grandfather has a whole complex about the wish mask, but after seeing both his father and his son dedicate so much time and care into completing it, he takes the last material, imbued with the hopes and dreams of his family, and finally finishes the mask. When he presents it to Ogerpon, Ogerpon dons the mask and its wish is granted...it becomes human :") So it becomes Kieran, basically!! Kieran's wish was to be able to say thank you to all of the generations of mask makers that had helped him, and. To be part of their family 🥺 What he doesn't know is that his wish to be human stems from the fact that he already was human, once. But he doesn't remember his life before he was reborn as a Pokemon.

So, Carmine's grandfather happily accepts Kieran and his desire, and takes him home to live with him and Carmine. Note that Kieran is probably around 5-6 at the time, so he's BABY. And Carmine is only about a year or two older. She isn't sure what to think about suddenly getting a new brother, but she's happy to have someone to boss around lmao.

And once a year, during the festival of masks, Kieran lets his facade fall and wanders around as Ogerpon again. Just to keep in touch with his roots haha

So obviously with Kieran being Ogerpon the events of the DLC will play out differently than canon. Kieran slyly compliments the ogre in front of the player and mentions that maybe it's just misunderstood. He's been trying for a while to change the villagers' minds about what happened to him and the Loyal Three all those years ago, but it hasn't been going...too well lol. So when the player shows up, and things start to shift, Kieran gets really excited bc he realizes he finally might be able to clear his name :")

Is this AU silly and dumb as hell? Yes. Does it not really make sense with canon and is full of plot holes? Yes. Am I brainrotting over it anyway? Also yes.

Take a little edit I did of Kieran's official art to fit what I had in mind for the AU ;) I wanted to draw it but I'm at work rn lmao RIP

ALSO LITTLE DOODLE OF THE BOY

ALSO bc of Ogerpon's original gender Kieran probably goes by he/they pronouns in the AU

#Listen I know this AU is stupid as hell but it means SO much to me #Shima answers questions #Pokemon #The Teal Mask #Pokemon Kieran #Pokemon Carmine #Ogerpon #Kieranpon AU #Shima's AUs #I'm brainrotting SO hard. HELP #Long post

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emperor-kumquat · 3 months ago

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Hiiiiii!

I’ve read your fic Mercy before and just read it again bc I think it’s so good. MAJOR kudos to you for finishing so much, doing all the different parts. For the other ones too!

By golly, I can’t imagine how much time it took to write every single one of those stories and then order them by “Go to section 3 xyz” then “Go to section 51 xyz”

I also noticed that there’s art now in the first three chapters!! Which is amazing. Haven’t read four yet, maybe there’s art for that too. But is that what you’re commissioning artists to do? I’m curious!

🇨🇦 to 🇨🇦 :)

Hello-Bonjour fellow Canadian! Thank you for enjoying my work :) Mercy is a huuuuuge project that I work on every day!

I'm still adding in all the key pictures and concept art in AO3 because I just learned that I could do that. So far Reformed Predator has all the art I could add right now with a few chapters or moments that are bare (that will change in the future). I am stuffing images into Space Adventure too so that will be done soon (I am also editing Space Adventure every day because it's my oldest story and could do with a quality boost). Discovery only has pictures in Part 1-2 but I will stuff the story with pictures as soon as I have done all I could with Space Adventure.

Yes, three fanfictions with accompanying pictures for every chapter coming soon! Monstrous Heart will get the odd scene and concept art but right now, the first three stories are my priority. I am concentrating my art efforts into them so that I can at least start adapting some of the stories into videos. I have a very ambitious goal of obtaining all Part 2 images for Space Adventure, Reformed Predator, and Discovery so I can complete their videos. Oh and all brand new Part 1 images for them as well to relaunch the videos of Part 1 for these paths (much has changed and improved since the demo of 2021)! Right now, I have something like 1000 pieces of art for Mercy. Haha but of course, I don't cram everything into the fanfictions. For example, "Predaking Gets Therapy" is the adaptation of Reformed Predator Part 3 chapter 2 and has about 50 images in it. The AO3 chapter just shows a couple of images. I would love to have at least one picture per chapter on AO3 and all concept arts for the first three stories. For the fourth story, just the concept arts is my goal for now. All this is very costly because many artists are paid! Yes, commissions are key to bringing my stories to life. I am thankful to them and to the volunteer artists who really save my butt.

Still looking for paid and volunteer Transformers artists! Haha I have been scouting actually. If I see some good Transformers art on Tumblr, I check the poster's bio to see if they do commissions. I've been randomly DMing artists. Sometimes they know exactly what my project is already! But hey anyone reading this is welcome to come to me, no need to be shy! I had an artist tell me they were waiting for me to reach out to them XD

Transformers: Mercy is going to be very unique as first, fanfictions with a 100 pictures inside them, then secondly as videos with 1000s (visual novel type TV show?!)

I invite all to take a look at what is happening to the AO3 fanfictions here! The new pictures and text edits are elevating the experience!

And everyone, please see this amazing adaptation of one of the longest Mercy chapters into video form! It doesn't spoil anything, just know that this storyline is specifically the result of the player choosing to eat Starscream. I am happy to say that people have been praising the therapy session for how it is written :)

youtube

#tf mercy #transformers #transformers prime #transformersprime #predaking #idw #tf overlord #tf trepan #idw overlord #idw trepan #idw froid #tf froid #predacons #starscream

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mapofyourstars · 1 month ago

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What are your thoughts about Patrick Stewart and Ian Mckellen appearing in Avengers doomsday?? 👀

We better get some good Cherik moments...

ok ok ok ok, so I have some opinions that may be controversial, so I'll throw them in a read more.

ok.

I lost all respect for the avengers/marvel franchise after avengers: endgame because they just murdered some of my favorite character's story lines. so I really, really don't trust marvel with any writing or plotting at all anymore. I don't believe they stick well to character personality or plot; and they don't pull from content that already exists out there (i.e., comics).

so.

with that being said, I have very, very low hopes for the film. in fact, my hopes are so far into the ground that it's ridiculous. I think there are far too many people set to be in the film - that cast list is a mile long. I also really don't see what the plot will even be - there are way too many timelines and way to many crossovers that I think anyone will get confused, especially because they won't have the backing to explain it all. and I can't imagine what they are going to do with cherik's roles - is it an alt. timeline? does it fit into the canon-verse, either comic or film? will erik's character be a baseless villian? will charles just die in the film like he seems to die in everything else? how are they accounting for their ages? blah.

there are so many variables that no one - and I mean no one - at marvel/disney are going to take into account. and they never will. we even saw that with the x-men films with their inconsistencies and gaps and breaks from comic lore (but I still think they are and will be leagues above whatever film marvel is putting out there). also, I'm an utter fool to think for one (1) second that they are going to make cherik anywhere close to being canon. can't have predominant characters in the marvel universe be queer, god forbid.

however.

if they are going to involve cherik in this project, I am incredibly happy they brought back the original cast. because no one - and I mean no one - plays magneto better than sir ian mckellan. he put so much passion and drive into that character that I cannot possibly see anyone else being older magneto. would I also be happy with michael? absolutely, but if they are going for age-accurate cherik, then I'm glad they stuck with ian. again, I'm genuinely concerned they are going to just butcher his character (and charles' too) because there are way too many people in the pot; but what's a person to do? they are gonna make the movie similar to all the other movies out there and I'll probably be disappointed; but will I watch every seen with cherik? of course. because they are my babies and I love them.

so yes, I'm a bit of a hater and a pessimist; but with cherik and beast and nightcrawler actors returning, I can't say I'm not interested to see what happens.

#cherik #don't really know if this was the energy you were hoping for #but i'm nothing if not brutally honest #asks

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film-bro-hotch · 2 years ago

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I Can See You - Hotch x Fem!Reader (one-shot)

I have had the idea for this one-shot ever since this song came out, and I wrote it in the middle of the night in an attempt to stay up and fight jetlag. This is going to be posted quite literally as I am in the airport about to move to a foreign country, so please enjoy.

Summary: You and Hotch start something outside of work that slowly starts to make its way into your on-the-clock time in more risky ways. Based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: smut 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace relationships (?) but like in the most disruptive way possible

WC: 2k

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

The past three months had been filled with what everyone assumed to be the mundane, typical occurrences of amicable coworkers. Passing of paper, catching glances of him from across the room during a briefing, occasionally brushing polyester suit jackets against each other in the elevator. They were insignificant. Or at least that is what everyone thought.

It’s what you wanted them to see. And to be completely honest, it’s what you thought at first too. Why would you possibly think your older, recently divorced boss would be interested in you?

Yet here you were on the BAU jet after a case. He was sitting next to you, both working on some paperwork to officially close the case you had just been working on. You couldn't remember a specific detail from the case.

“Hey, Hotch, how many rounds of ammo did this guy have in his basement again?” “Enough I think he was doomsday prepping. Local PD was still getting an accurate number when we were leaving. I’ll call them when we land.” His tone was nonchalant enough, you really didn’t think much of it.

An hour later you were at your desk, getting ready to pack up when he came by, close enough that he was brushing your shoulder. He had picked up a pen from your desk and wrote the number down on your documents.

Odd moments like this kept happening. Sometimes he would lean a little closer than usual to show you one of the various drawings Jack made that he had stuck on the fridge. When you asked him for help on some grueling paperwork, your shoulders often touched. You would go to turn in administrative work and instead of putting it in the designated basket on his desk, you handed it directly to him, his fingers brushing yours. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw his ears go a little red.

No one had said anything yet, which filled you partly with relief. Emily and JJ not saying anything was normal. They may be profilers, but they were both pretty good at keeping their noses out of their coworkers’ business. Who wasn’t so good at that was Penelope. If anyone was going to catch on to it, it would be her. And she would say something to you.

The fact that she hadn’t made you feel a little crazy. Were you really just reading too much into things? Were you projecting?

That was until one day after everyone was gone, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes, of course, though partly in the back of your head you wondered if it was more of a friendly coworker ‘well, we are both off and have nothing else to do’ dinner date than a date date. Any concerns of that were crushed when at the door of your apartment he kissed you. You had imagined his lips a few times already, thin and usually in some kind of disapproving frown. They were soft against yours, and you could feel the gentle scratch of his stubble on your chin.

When he pulled away, you expected maybe a form of regret, a look that read ‘what have I done?’ Instead, he just looked hungry for more.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he says.

“But you did.” And so you gave him more. You both tumbled into your apartment. Your hands were in his hair, his hand was grabbing your ass as he continued to kiss you. You remember making it to the bed, and you remember that he spent the night at your place that night.

After that, work with Aaron looked much like it had the past few months. Business as usual with only stolen moments of tenderness, when your hands touched, his calloused fingers brushed yours for just a moment as he handed you a report and asked you to turn it in at 5:00 before you went home. You didn’t let the team catch the way your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer than what was socially appropriate for co-workers, how your gaze went from his eyes to his lips, usually pressed in a thin line. No one saw how in that cramped elevator, the last part of your morning commute, he would sometimes get closer, let one finger from the hand holding his briefcase curl with your pinkie.

That had been the two of you for the last three months. Professional. You just weren’t sure how much longer you could take professional.

It started out simple enough. You were in his office for a legitimate reason. JJ had been out sick and as the only other person with a communication background, her work fell on you, though you didn’t mind. You were there to hand him a stack of briefings for potential cases, and as he started to flip through them, you casually slipped a hand on top of his thigh, your fingers curling towards his inner thigh, your thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. You could feel his pulse rise, his sharp intake of breath, see his eyes dart straight toward his door, the blinds that were open. There was a certain thrill in the danger of being caught. “What?” you asked coyly. “Scared of being found out?” “I’m not-it’s not that.” He was flustered. “We are at work. And your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I am very aware,” you said, abruptly pulling your hand from his and standing straight. “JJ should be back tomorrow, but if you have any other questions on these, just let me know,” you said, continuing on like you hadn’t just turned his face red with a touch or given him an awful boner in the middle of work.

Later that week, you had left your desk to give yourself one more cup of coffee considering you knew you would be working later than usual to finish up some details on a file. You usually go down the hall and sneak into another department’s kitchen to use a couple flavoring syrups. Passing a nook, you felt a hand grab you and pull you back, another hand settling on your lower back as Hotch pulled you into a kiss. Your surprised grunt was muffled by his lips, his teeth nearly busting your lips when they crashed into you.

“What the hell are you doing?” you breathed. “We are at work.”

“This is the only place on this floor besides a janitor's closet that isn’t on camera. And I didn’t exactly think cleaning chemicals gave the most romantic mood.” He said it completely seriously, like he had actually given this thought.

“Wait, how did you know I was even going to be here?”

“You always get a second cup when you are planning to stay past 5:00. And you never get coffee from the BAU’s kitchen. You go down the hall to data science because they have better variety. I just happened to take a break right before you went for a refill, and I happened to be in the one corner that cameras don’t reach.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading from a textbook rather than the romantic declaration that he actually paid attention to your habits.

“It’s really hot when you pay attention, you know,” you said, reaching up for another kiss, but Hotch pulled back.

“Got to get back to work,” he said, the edge of his lips curled into a know, shit-eating grin. Bastard.

The tipping point came nearly a month later. The two of you had been at this little game ever since, trying to see who could make the other the most flustered, and things were getting progressively more risky. The closest call so far had been when you two thought you were the only ones left for the day, but Morgan had come back to grab his thermos he had left on his desk.

On this day, you were working at your desk when Aaron called you into his office. It wasn’t an occurrence, but something did start to feel off when he asked you to shut the door.

“Lock it for good measure,” he added, moving quite close to you to shut the blinds.

You hardly got his name out of your mouth before he kissed you, nearly banging your body against the door, which clearly would have alerted someone. You found your hand intuitively going around his neck, one cradling his cheek as he kissed you. “What the hell are you doing?” you finally were able to ask between breathless pants.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.”

He pulls away then, pointing towards his desk. “We have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious.” You were already ahead of him, pulling him towards his desk, your hands already reaching for his belt. He was eager to help you, unclasping the buckle in one fell swoop. Even through the lining of his pants you could see his bungle. You wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this all day, thinking of you.

He slid his pants off part of the way, your fingers going to grip him, only his boxer keeping your flesh from touching. He had to be sensitive. Even just the friction from your hand and the fabric made him hum in approval. “If we are going to do this, you are going to need to keep quiet,” you said. Your hands moved from his crotch to his neck, unlacing his tie with ease. Haphazardly bundling it up, you shoved the mess of fabric into his mouth to shut him up.

“Wait,” you heard him say, having removed the makeshift gag. He shook his arms out of his suit jacket, taking the most surely expensive coast and folding it, placing it on the ground. It took you a moment to realize what he was getting out, but you started to understand when he happily put the gag back in his mouth. Kindly, he had made his jacket into a cushion for your knees so you could be comfortable while sucking him off and making him scream. And you planned to do just that.

Your fingers gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. Spitting in your hand, you began to run your hand along the length of him, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. From the corner of your eye, you could see the way he gripped the edge of his desk, practically begging you to go a little faster, use a little more pressure. You kept up the facade for a bit, listening to his near desperate hums before placing your lips on the tip, running your tongue along it and hearing his muffled groan in response.

You started to move your hand a little faster, your tongue picking up the place along with it. You loved to see the way his knuckles went white, the way he was gripping the desk for dear life.

“Please,” you heard his muffled whimper.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” you asked from your position below him.

Quickly, he ripped out his gag, one hand still gripping the desk as he said, “For the love of god, please stop tormenting me.”

You were happy to oblige him, beginning to move your hand up and down as well as flicking your tongue along his tip, feeling the muscles in his thigh and his abdomen tense and clench before he finally released. At the last second, he muffled his cry with the tie, nearly sinking back into the desk as you wiped himself from your lips.

Standing and brushing your knees off, you motioned to the door. “Put your pants on so I can get the hell out of here and hope no one noticed.”

He took a moment to compose himself, tucking his shirt back in and trying his best to straighten out his tie. He opened the blinds and unlocked the door, sending you on your way with a simple, “Please make sure those are on my desk before the end of the day.”

You were certain he was planning on returning the favor.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #song fic #based on a taylor swift song #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

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