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grxmreaperx · 7 months

Note

Hi!!

I just read your Mark Hoffman fic and I loved it!! Would you be willing to write something with Hoffman being a little obsessed with the reader? any further plot is totally up to you, I just need more Hoffman fics. 😩 Angst, fluff, smut (if you’re okay with that of course!)?

God, I love this request!! I’m all for men being obsessed in fics. And there’s no way I can answer this request and NOT write my first Hoffman smut (👀)

Also, you’ve all been so sweet and lovely ahhh I’m so glad I made this blog!!

You Belong to Me

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x reader (reader is AFAB)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Kinda went off with this ngl. I had way too much fun with this. Mark being very dominant and obsessed with the reader. Praise and degradation kink. Hair pulling, spanking, cream pie. Mark being very possessive. Oral sex (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), p in v penetration. Every ounce of feminism left my body writing this.

Summary: Upon John’s request, you’ve been working as Mark’s secretary at the precinct in order to keep you off the list of suspects in the search for Jigsaw’s accomplice. Did Mark really expect you to not take this golden opportunity to mess with him? As much as he appreciates the tight pencil skirts you’ve started wearing to work, he does not appreciate the attention it is drawing from his coworkers.

You were driving him absolutely insane. He wasn’t sure whether to bash John’s skull in or worship him like Amanda does for placing you here. He already had a hard enough time focusing on stake outs and working on traps with you, and now you were here. In his place of work, where he was supposed to be professional, supposed to pretend he had never seen you before you had your “interview.”

Mark knew exactly what you were doing. Your first day you walked in here, friendly smile on your pretty face, pencil skirt glued to your legs, staring right at him.

“Good morning, Detective Hoffman.”

God, he was going to kill John.

He hadn’t exactly had time for a sex life since everything went down. His sister’s death, planning Seth Baxter’s fate, joining Jigsaw, all on top of his detective work. And it hadn’t really bothered him; he had more important things to think about.

Until John decided you’d be a perfect addition to the team.

---

You knew your plan was working exactly how you wanted.

John hadn’t tested him yet, so why shouldn’t you? The detective needed to be tested, didn’t he?

You saw how he stared at you when you walked into work each morning, spending the time before your shift picking out the perfect outfit that you knew would drive the man mad.

You had decided months ago that you tired of the tension, the pull you felt towards the man every night you spent working together. And now John, bless his soul, had given you the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

You had seen some of the other men at the station watching you, eyes hovering a bit too long on your legs and ass. It didn’t bother you much, you ignored them for the most part, they weren’t your test subject, they weren’t your detective, so you hardly even noticed.

But, oh, did Mark notice. He noticed every fucking time. And every time was a new test of his willpower. Every single time, all he could think about was what sort of trap he could devise that would be worthy of the pigs who dared look at you.

---

“How you doing today, honey?” You turned around in your chair and saw Henry Miller, one of the cops that was most persistent with you. You were friendly with him; he was nice enough. The only problem was he thought he had a shot with you.

“Morning, Henry. I’m doing alright, how are you today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you finally let me take you out tonight.”

You scoffed. “How many times do I need to tell you I’m not interested before it finally gets through?”

He leaned on your desk, hands resting on the table, staring intently at you from across the surface. “Cmon, baby. Just one dinner, that’s all I ask. I’m very persistent.”

“Miller, isn’t there something you’re supposed to be doing?” You recognized the deep voice instantly and had to stop yourself from grinning. This was perfect.

The smile dropped from Henry’s face when he saw Hoffman staring daggers at him. He looked like a deer in the headlights, a child that had been caught stealing candy.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered, before quickly making his way back to his desk.

“And you,” he started, eyes on you. “In my office.”

You flashed him your best smile. “Of course, Detective.”

----

“Sit down.”

You sat down in the chair across from him, trying to scope out the look on his face. His jaw was tense and shoulders tight. He looked like he was about to explode.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

He sucked in a breath. “Bullshit.” He stood up, slowly making his way around the table. “You walk in here every day, in your tight little skirts, giving me that proud little smile, and you’re going to sit here and act like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He placed on a hand on each armrest, eyes boring down into you. “Now, let’s try again, shall we? What the fuck was that?”

Bingo.

You smiled up at him. “I just want to look nice for you, Detective.”

He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Oh, you wanna look pretty for me, is that it?” You nod. “You know what would make you look real pretty? Get on your fucking knees.”

Embarrassingly quick, you sink out of the chair and onto your knees, staring up at the man. He smirks.

“Well? You just gonna stare at me? Don’t act like you don’t know what to do.”

You reach up and slowly get to work on his belt, trying to act like you still have some sort of control. Not that you minded, but it was still nice to pretend.

All resolve left you went he wrapped a hand in your hair, pulling back until your chin was pointed up at him. “Don’t do that. You’ve teased me enough. Now it’s your turn.”

You pulled down his pants just enough to reach his dick. You sucked in a breath. You had some idea of what you were in for, but fuck.

You tried to tease him a bit more, you really did, but as soon as you heard the deep groan when you took him into your mouth, you were done for.

His hand in your hair guided you, bobbing your head on his dick, feeling it hit the back of your throat each time. Each tug on your hair, each time you felt the tip of his dick down your throat, you felt a spark go straight between your legs. You looked up at him through thick eyelashes, eyes slightly teary, spit spilling over your lips.

“God, I knew it. You do look very pretty like this, sweetheart.”

You were slightly disappointed when he finally pulled your head back, dick soaked with your spit. “Get up.”

You shakily got to your feet, suddenly aware of how much of a mess you must be. His eyes roamed over your body, examining you from head to toe.

“Go on, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”

You quickly complied, bending over the front his desk, legs slightly spread. You felt him behind you, placing his hands on your hips before landing a hard smack on your ass. His hands pushed up skirt, pooling it around your waist and exposing you to him. He ran a finger over your underwear, pressing lightly on your clit, before landing another blow.

“Such a little slut, aren’t you? Already soaked for me. Have you enjoyed acting like a brat?” Another smack. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you said softly.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Much better.” He pushed your underwear aside, running a finger through your folds. You felt your hips push back, trying to get more. More of anything, more of him. He pulled his hand away, running it over your thighs. “So desperate, aren’t you? You know exactly what you’ve been doing to me, teasing me, acting like a brat. Why should I touch you?”

“Please, sir, I’m sorry. I just wanted – “

“Wanted what? Wanted me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You felt him slide one finger in, quickly followed by a second. You bit your lip, suddenly aware of where you were and who was outside this office.

“So, you thought you’d make me jealous, hm?” he asked, fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. You nodded, rolling your hips against his fingers. As soon as he felt your movement, he pulled his fingers away. A whimper left your lips.

“Why should I make you feel good, when you’ve done nothing but tease me for months?”

“Please, sir. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“But- “

“I said louder.”

“Please, sir, please, fuck.”

He slid into you all at once, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. You let out a loud moan, before clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping to God no one heard you.

His hand found its way to your hair, pulling you toward him, back arching. You felt his lips right next to your ear as he finally moved his hips, pulling almost completely out before pounding back in. “No, no, baby. You want to tease me, make me jealous, let these cops flirt with you? You’re gonna let this whole fucking office know who you belong to.”

He set a rapid pace, hips snapping against yours. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, legs unsteady.

Mark groaned in your ear. “God, do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this pussy? How many times I’ve thought about bending you over and ruining you? Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done to me? You’re all I fucking think about anymore.”

You let out a loud moan, no longer caring who heard you two. “God, fuck.”

“Cmon baby, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, sir.”

“Louder.” His long, hard strokes made your legs weak.

“I belong to you, sir! I’m all yours!”

“Good girl.” His other hand reached around your front, fingers quickly finding your clit and drawing quick circles around it. “Now, let everyone out there know that I’m the only one that gets to make you cum.”

Your legs shook and you knew if it weren’t for his arms holding you up, you wouldn’t be able to stand. Your mind was blank, forgetting everything but his words and the feeling of his cock filling you.

Your vision went white as your orgasm washed over you, the room filled with sounds of you moaning his name and his skin slapping against yours. You felt his pace falter slightly, his breath hot on your ear as he emptied himself inside you.

You stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath, before he finally pulled out of you and slid your skirt down.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that,” he said, breathless, as he pulled his pants back up.

You let out a soft laugh. “Me too.” You start to grab a tissue from the box on his desk to clean yourself up before he grabbed your wrist. He spun you around to face him, face inches from yours.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I want everyone to know that you’re mine. And I want to see you try and hold yourself together with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He gave you a smirk before letting go of your wrist, making his way back to his chair, and continuing his work as if nothing had happened.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

Maybe your plan worked a bit too well.

---

Let me know if you guys like this!! I've been thinking about doing a NSFW alphabet with our lovely detective, let me know if you guys would be interested 👀

#mark hoffman x reader #saw #saw franchise #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

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hairrington · 2 years

Text

Sun Comes Shining

Summary: When Dustin begs Steve for a ride to visit Suzie, Steve pretends to have to think about it, when really, he'd do anything for the kid. Steve ropes you in for the long drive, but what you all think will be a fun trip suddenly takes a turn when you realize Vecna's back - and he's taking Steve.

In which female reader tries to save cursed boyfriend Steve. Takes place after the gang thinks they defeated Vecna. Requested by @homeybadger. Gif credit: commanderogerss.

The first headache Steve had gotten was on a Monday afternoon. He was working a solo shift at the video store and doing his least favorite part of the job: calling people to remind them about overdue rentals.

After dialing up and calling the first number, a sharp lighting bolt of pain felt like it cracked his skull and he held his hand up to his temple.

"Hello?" the other person on the end answered.

Steve kept his hand to his head, reeling.

"Hello?" they asked again. Steve hung up, hunching over, and wincing. What a killer headache.

His mind jumps to what had happened only a month ago. But no. Vecna is gone. There's no way that's it.

The doorbell jingle pulls him out of his state and he looks up to see Dustin strolling in with a big smile on his face.

"Someone's happy," Steve says.

"Just got off the phone with Suzie," Dustin explains. "She made it to Nebraska."

"Ah, so that's the 'dope in love' smile," Steve teases. Dustin makes it to the counter, elbows on the tabletop, face in his hands.

"Joke all you want," Dustin replies. "You get the same face when (Y/N)'s around."

As if you planned to enter at the perfect time, you come into the video store, smiling as soon as you see your boyfriend of six months and his honorary son-slash-little brother.

"Speaking of," Dustin says.

"Gossiping about me?" you ask. You make it to the desk and lean over the counter to give Steve a peck on the lips, hovering for a second after just to smile at each other.

When you straighten up, you look down at Dustin.

"What, no 'get a room' comments?" you ask, used to his teasing.

"He's in... his Suzie state," Steve says, smiling at the young boy, endeared to see him so happy.

You and Dustin had come from opposite directions to the store to discuss final details for the trip you'd be leaving for tomorrow. A few days ago, during one of your phone calls late at night, Steve had told you about the plan.

"So, Dustin comes into the store today..." he began.

"And what did your son want?" you asked with a smile.

"A ride to Nebraska to see his girlfriend. Apparently she's visiting family there."

"God, they're adorable," you laughed. "Isn't her family super strict? How'd that happen?"

"He apparently begged," Steve told you. "That's a nine-hour car ride. He wants to spend his spring break in a car for 18 hours in total just to see her for one day. That's all they agreed to - one day at their house. Love makes you do crazy things."

"Tell me about it," you said, thinking back to fighting demobats and Vecna in the Upside Down with Steve and your friends just a month ago.

"So, since you love me and everything," Steve began, "I was thinking you'd come with?"

Before he even confirmed it, you knew Steve had agreed to do the favor for Dustin. Watching your boyfriend be the kind, caring role model he was for Dustin always made your heart warm with endearment.

"Of course," you said. "Nine hours is a lot of driving. We can split it."

"I love you," Steve replied, the words still feeling a bit new in his mouth. You’d only shared your first I love you’s a few weeks ago. "And he won't say it, but Dustin does, too."

The three of you stand in the empty video store, ready to get to planning. He won't say it, but Steve's head is still pulsating in dull pain.

"So, can we leave at around 11 tonight?" Dustin asks.

"11?" Steve asks. "As in almost midnight? I thought we said tomorrow morning."

"Well, we did, but if we leave in the morning, we only really have an afternoon there," Dustin says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "They said we can come on Tuesday, so if we leave late tonight, we can be there in the morning. My mom already said it's okay. And I called Suzie to be sure."

"So that means..." You did the math in your head. "In perfect traffic with no long stops, we'd be there at about 8 a.m."

"Just in time for breakfast," Dustin says with a big smile, showing his braces.

You and Steve share a look - an overnight nine hour drive is worth it for Dustin's happiness.

After you discussed what to pack and prepare, Dustin excitedly hits his palms on the table.

"I'm gonna go finish packing!" he says, turning to leave.

"You don't want a ride home?" you ask, holding up your car keys.

"Bike's faster!" he calls, opening the door.

"I don't think that's true!" Steve half-shouts.

"It is when you know shortcuts!" Dustin says, giving one last wave and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"And when you've got that much energy," you mumble to Steve, turning to look at him. He shakes his head and smiles. "Eager, huh?"

"So eager," Steve agrees. "You sure you're up for this drive?"

"You know I'd do anything for you two," you say. Steve looks at you lovingly. He won't mention the headache. It's surely nothing and he doesn't need anyone to worry about him.

He stretches out his hand, leaning on the countertop, and you lean in as well to hold it.

The past few months had struck Hawkins with tragedy; three teenagers had died at the hands of Vecna. Everyone in your group had a part to play in killing the monster, but it had not left you unscathed.

You'd only been working at the video store for three months and dating Steve for one when Vecna's terror had began. When you overhead Steve, Robin, and the kids talking about locating Eddie, who was wanted by police, you pressed for information.

Dustin had taken a liking to you immediately. You had jumped in feet-first, eager and determined to save your town and your newfound friends. The battle had been grueling, but Vecna had been taken down and even though Hawkins was still in a raw, tragedy-ridden state, you took comfort in knowing that the monster couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

You hear the bell hanging over the front door ring and turn to see a customer come in. You let go of Steve's hand and stand up straight again.

"I'm gonna go shopping for some snacks," you say. "You know what Dustybun likes?" You both giggle at Suzie's nickname for Dustin.

"Twizzlers," he quickly responds. "And those Hostess pudding pies. But chocolate only. Vanilla always makes his stomach hurt."

"God, you're such a dad," you say with a grin. Steve smiles, despite the headache, actually looking forward to the car ride.

After you leave, Steve is able to dismiss the headache as a coincidence. It could just be fatigue. He brushes it off, refusing to think about it anymore.

Steve arrives home from work at 5 pm that day and decides to get a nap in and rest up for the drive.

But he wakes up an hour in to the feeling of fingers digging into his arms and legs. He opens his eyes to see Russian soldiers yanking him out of bed, shouting indistinctly.

The chair he'd been trapped in beneath Starcourt sits in the corner of his room, and he screams at the horrifying sight, putting all his effort into trying to twist out of his grip. He's unable to get out.

They shove him onto the chair, tightening straps around his wrists and ankles, the material cutting into his skin.

"You thought we wouldn't find you," the soldier says, accent thick and tone menacing. "We haven't forgotten about you, Steve Harrington.”

As Steve struggles, he opens his mouth but can't get a single word out. Another soldier appears out of the shadows, holding a syringe with a long needle. He wants to scream. But he can't.

Steve wakes up in a cold sweat, his alarm blaring. He sits up quickly, slamming the alarm clock quiet. Panting. Ears ringing. Heart pounding.

Could that have been a delusion?

No - it had to be a nightmare. Vecna was dead. The dream must have come up from the worry about his headache earlier today.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

Steve is still on edge as he packs the last of his things, knowing that once he sees you, he'll feel better. He says his goodbyes to his parents, who didn't seem to care much that he's leaving, and packs up the car.

Sure enough, when Steve arrives at your home ten minutes to 11:00 as scheduled and sees you standing by your front door with a full duffel bag of food, it brings his aching heart some peace.

You smile at your boyfriend through the window then round the BMW, popping your bag into the trunk. When you slip into the passenger seat, you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi," you say.

"Hi." His smile was sweet - but it wasn't Steve. Your brows furrow.

"You okay?" you ask.

"It's..." He taps a hand on the steering wheel. "I tried to nap after work and just had a shitty sleep."

"I'm sorry," you say, hand on his forearm. "I can take on the majority of the driving, okay? You know I had the day off - slept in a lot so I'm good for a while."

He nods, not sure if sitting in the car with nothing to do is good for his mind. He just needs something to focus on - to just drive.

"It's no problem," he simply says.

He drives down the street towards Dustin's, mind a million miles away.

When Dustin piles into the car, goofy grin on his face, Steve tries to keep up appearances with another forced smile.

You notice the plushie under Dustin's arm and once you realize what it is, you gasp in endearment.

"Aww, is that from The Neverending Story?" you ask.

Dustin proudly holds it up, the stuffed mini-version of Falkor in his grip.

"She loves that movie," he says. "I saved up so much allowance for it."

"Okay, I have to admit that's pretty damn cute," Steve says after a beat, and you share a smile with him.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Dustin asks, immediately noticing Steve's low tone.

God, Steve thinks, can't hide anything from these two.

"I'm good," he lies.

"No, you're not," Dustin says.

"He's tired," you explain. "I offered to drive but..." You motion to Steve in the driver's seat.

"No time to waste," Steve says, reversing out of Dustin's driveway. "We've got two nerds to reunite."

Dustin lightly pushes Steve's shoulder and Steve laughs. He tells himself he’ll be fine.

Mixtapes playing, windows down, snacks eaten, and conversation flowing (mostly between you and Dustin, as Steve is mentally elsewhere), you travel for about an hour before Dustin begins to doze off.

"You sure you don't want me to take over?" you quietly ask Steve.

"Yeah, I'm good," he says.

You let sleep take the reins, and after a deep nap, when your eyelids flutter open, you shuffle in your seat. Dustin softly snores in the backseat and Steve's gaze is fixed on the stretch of freeway ahead of him.

You look at the clock in the car: 3:37 am.

"Hi," you quietly say to Steve as you rouse awake. "You want to stop and let me take over so you can sleep?"

Steve exhales and nods, knowing you're right. He needs to take a break. He's been driving in silence, replaying how saw Vecna die over and over again in his head. But did he really die?

The next exit he sees, Steve gets off the freeway and finds a plaza of closed shops. Steve parks and gets out of the car, stretching.

In the small parking lot of the random American suburban town at three in the morning, Steve gazes around and breathes in the cool air, still trying to shake the feeling his bad dream had given him.

You pop up on the other side of the car, standing and feeling your body reset from sitting for so long. You come around the car, arms stretched forward, and Steve pulls you in for a hug.

You smile, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

"You know she'll leave you," Steve hears from a thick, dark voice. He tenses up, holding you tighter. The voice sounds like it's coming from inside his brain. A lump grows in his throat.

"She'll leave you like everyone else," it seethes. "Your own parents don't even love you. Once people see who you really are, they run. You're nothing."

Steve nuzzles his head into your neck, eyes squeezed shut. He can't look. He's too scared to.

"Hey, you really needed a hug, huh?" you ask. You break him out of the trance and he can only nod. He's finally brave enough to open his eyes, and sure enough, he's in the same parking lot in the middle of the night holding his girlfriend.

"You sure you're okay, Steve?" you ask.

He's wigging out. That's it. Just needs some sleep.

"Just tired," Steve says. "Don't worry about me." He's not worth worrying about, he thinks.

You settle into the driver's seat and tell yourself that it's only less than five hours of driving left. You check the map again, noting your turns, and put on your seatbelt.

Steve settles in the passenger seat after checking on Dustin to see that the boy is still sleeping peacefully. Arms crossed and head tilted towards the window, Steve closes his eyes and hopes for sleep to find him.

Before pulling out of the parking lot, you take a second to look at Steve and smile to yourself. The past six months, although full of scary, otherworldly adventures, had been the best of your life all because of Steve.

You sigh happily, hoping your boyfriend can catch up on the sleep he desperately needs. As you head back onto the freeway, you think back to just a few weeks ago when Steve had told you he loved you for the first time.

It had been a beautiful spring evening - a bit chilly, but nice enough to stargaze at one of Hawkins’ hilltops. Steve had driven you in the very car you were driving now to find that only a couple of other cars had been parked up at the secluded bluff.

He parked and grabbed the thick blanket he had brought along from the backseat, excitedly laying it out on the hood of his car.

The two of you settled on the hood, leaning back on the windshield to look up at the sky. The other cars were far enough away that you couldn’t hear anyone’s conversations but your own.

You gazed lower to the horizon to see the skyline of your small hometown.

“Been here all my life and never even knew you could get a view like this,” you said.

“It’s kind of a hidden gem, I guess,” Steve said.

“It’s really pretty,” you breathed. Steve looked over at your profile, thinking the same thing about you.

The last few months had been amazing with you. He was afraid of falling too hard, too fast and getting his heart broken, but ever since you started working at the video store, he had to accept that he was a goner for you. Thankfully, you felt the same, and when he asked if he could be yours, you happily accepted.

He knew he liked you, but when you joined him and the others to take down Vecna with no hesitation, he realized he loved you. Not only were you beautiful, but you were sweet, smart, and one of the bravest people he’d ever met.

Steve gazed at you, eyes travelling over the small scar lining your chin that had come from a nasty fall in the Upside Down when the demobats had attacked you. His stomach tightened at the memory.

You looked at him and smirked.

“What?” you asked.

“Thinking about what a badass you were in the Upside Down,” Steve admitted. As if you knew he was looking at your scar, you touched your chin to cover it.

“I don’t know about badass,” you joked, “but I do wish was more careful.” Steve smiled, reaching forward and moving your fingers off your chin to expose the scar again.

“That is a reminder of how you saved this town,” he said sincerely. You smiled at him, genuinely feeling better about the permanent mark on your skin.

“You’ve done so much more than I have,” you say. Not long before that, Steve had told you about the events before he met you - the demogorgon, the Russians, and everything in between. You didn’t know how he survived all that in one piece.

You smiled in admiration for him, shifting to get closer to Steve and tilting your head to press your cheek against his shoulder. You stared up at the millions of sparkling dots in the night sky.

Life had been back to normal for the past little while and you were immensely grateful for that. You felt calm, but had no idea Steve was beside you, anxious about getting his next words out.

“Hey, I love you,” Steve finally said. You tilted your head to look up at him, and his warm eyes met yours. Your heart felt like it was leaping through hoops.

“Hey, I love you, too,” you replied with a smile. The weight on Steve’s chest, the worry that you wouldn’t reciprocate, crumbled and disappeared.

When it had gotten too cold to justify staying outside any longer, both of you scuffled back into the car. You’d noticed the other cars had gone, leaving you two to be the only ones on the hilltop. Steve took the blanket and immediately covered you in it. You smiled gratefully.

He turned on the engine and turned the dial up on the heat. The radio announcer was talking about local sports scores while you sat together in the car, looking at the view through the windshield.

You didn’t want to end the night, and neither did he. You shuffled to get close to him again, leaning over the console to kneel on him. Steve’s fingers found your chin and lifted your head. Your lips met his, warming you from the inside out.

The opening notes of Grover Washington, Jr.s’ “Just the Two of Us” spilled through the radio speakers. You had smiled under the kiss and Steve immediately noticed.

“What?” he asked.

“I love this song,” you said. “It always makes me happy.”

“Then I love it, too,” Steve said, turning it up to the max.

“Steve!” you said, laughing, looking around to confirm there were no other cars nearby. Thankfully, it remained as desolate as it was when you’d gotten into the car.

“I can’t hear you, sorry,” he said with a smile and a shrug. You laughed, leaning back in to kiss him, and you kept kissing him until the song ended. And then some.

If you and Steve had “a song,” it was that one. A few days after that night, Steve had bought two copies of the “Winelight” album on tape with that very song at track 5; one for your car and one for his. And he meant it when he said he loved it, too, simply because you told him it always made you happy.

You smile to yourself as you drive down the freeway. Steve seems to have fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling at a slower pace. You catch a glimpse of his sleeping face - lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s concentrating in his slumber. You really had fallen head over heels for this man.

You turn on the radio just low enough to have something to occupy your mind as you drive. A few hours in, you’re met with the slow, orange sunrise.

Steve shuffles awake, and when he realizes he’d slept without any nightmares or interruptions, he sighs out of relief. He pops his head up and you look over to see his hair sticking in every direction.

“Good morning,” you say softly. He squints as he gains consciousness, rubbing his eyes. “You have the most adorable ‘just woke up’ face ever.”

He chuckles at your compliment, smoothing down his hair. He looks at the car clock: 7:31.

“Wow,” he whispers. “We’re almost there. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Hungry.”

“That little twerp ate everything in the first hour, huh?” Steve says, jerking his head towards the backseat. You try not to laugh too hard.

“Want me to tap in?” he asks, pointing to the steering wheel.

“It’s alright, we’re close enough,” you tell him. “I’ll just need the directions to the house soon because I don’t remember much after this exit.” You point back to Dustin. “Should we just let him sleep and let Suzie wake him up?”

“Oh, he’d love that,” Steve says, stretching his arms out away from his chest, letting out a grunt as he feels his muscles unfold.

“I actually wouldn’t,” Dustin mumbles from the backseat. “I have a routine. I need to look my best.”

“Good morning, Dustybuns!” Steve exclaims, turning around. Dustin yawns and sits up, craning his neck. Dustin tries to stifle a smile, but can’t. He’s too excited.

Turns out, Dustin’s routine consists of gelling his hair back, changing sweaters, using a splash of breath freshener, then spraying what seems like a gallon of cologne on his clothing.

“Are you trying to knock us out?” Steve asks, opening his window as the fragrance fills the car.

“It’s called romance,” Dustin says.

“A woman does like when a man smells nice,” you add.

“See?” Dustin says.

“I’m never gonna get this smell out of my car,” Steve groans. You laugh at their banter. Soon after, Steve pulls out the map, giving you the last few directions to the house.

When you get to the front door, Dustin raises his hand to knock, but Suzie swings it open, squealing and pulling him in for a hug. It’s pretty adorable. Her reaction when he gives her the plushie is just as cute.

You officially meet Suzie and her family - her withdrawn father (who wasn’t very happy about that hug), quiet mother, kind aunt and uncle, and countless siblings. The house is a circus compared to the quiet car you’d been in for the last nine hours.

You sit down next to Steve at the large breakfast table, politely answering any questions that come up, but most of the meal is spent listening to Suzie’s large family.

While you help put away dishes, you notice Suzie go up to her mother with clasped hands, very obviously asking permission for something. You step closer to try to hear.

“...just for a few hours. Please?” Suzie whines.

You look at her mother who sighs with a hand on her hip.

“Fine,” her mother says. Suzie claps her hands and hops in place.

Soon after, you’re in the car with Suzie, her mother Linda, Dustin, and Steve, after learning that Suzie had just successfully gotten permission to go to the local arcade with Dustin.

Linda clearly had no intention on speaking with you, as when you got to the arcade, she settled at a table and pulled a book out of her purse. You and Steve were fine with that, though, taking the opportunity to have fun at the arcade.

Steve buys tokens for Dustin and Suzie - Linda is already to immersed in her book to think about that part - and buys some for you two, as well. As you travel the large corridors of pin-ball machines and skill-testing games, you loop your arm in his, finally getting a chance to talk alone.

“I lost count of how many siblings Suzie has,” you say, chuckling.

“Right?!” Steve exclaims. “I don’t know how they all remember each other’s names.” You laugh, squeezing his arm. “I don’t think her mom likes us.”

“I don’t think her mom likes anyone,” you answer.

“She...” Steve swallows hard, unsure if he wants to say it, unsure if he wants to open up that can of worms.

“What?” you ask.

“Reminds me of my mom, kind of.” Steve swallows hard, trying to a force a smile at you. You hadn’t met his mother - and quite honestly, were worried to - but had heard enough about her, about both his parents, and how cold and absent they had been his whole life.

“Do you know how amazed I am by you that you went through all that and you still give so much to the people you love?” you ask. “You came all the way to freakin’ Nebraska just for Dustin to see his girlfriend. That kid worships you.”

“Hey, you came, too,” Steve says.

“Only because of you,” you respond with a light nudge in his side. He grins at you, grateful to have someone he can confide in.

Guilt fills him when he remembers he hasn’t confided in you about the headache or the nightmares. He dismisses the thought - he doesn’t want you to worry about something that isn’t even a threat. Vecna is dead. Steve tells himself he’s fine.

Your boyfriend’s eyes light up when he sees a basketball game in the corner.

“Oh, I’m about to kick your ass,” Steve says proudly. You laugh, nudging him as you walk towards the game.

“Not fair,” you say. “You played for years.”

“What do you want me to say? Sorry your boyfriend’s awesome?”

“I need to knock you down a peg,” you say, inserting a token into the game.

Steve kept his promise and won in basketball, but you quickly saved face when you beat him in air hockey. You travelled through the arcade having a blast, later meeting up with Dustin and Suzie to play some team games against them.

When you had run out of tokens, you called it a day, finding Linda right where you left her and heading for the house.

The rest of the day was a blur. You ate an early dinner, watched some TV with Steve - whatever cartoon Suzie’s brothers were watching - and played a passionate game of Monopoly with Suzie, Dustin, and a few other family members.

Steve had another headache come on in the middle of the game, but convinced himself that it was simply from the noise of all the children in the house.

It was 6 pm when you had said your goodbyes. Suzie was holding her Falkor plushie tightly as she bid farewell to Dustin and it made your heart break a little bit.

When you settled back in the car, Steve in the driver’s seat, Dustin sighed longingly as he waved to Suzie from the window.

“Have fun, bud?” Steve asks.

“I’m in love,” Dustin says wistfully. You smile to yourself.

The car pulls out into the road and away from the house, and once you’re comfortably seated, you realize just how tired you are and fall asleep to the sound of Steve and Dustin chatting about the day’s events.

You’re shaken awake and you open your eyes to realize the car has stopped on the side of the road and Steve has woken you up.

You look to your boyfriend to see him holding one hand on his head, the other on your shoulder.

"Can you take over?" Steve asks.

"Of course," you whisper, looking at the clock to see it's 9:30. "You okay?"

"Crazy headache," he admits.

"Can I try driving?" Dustin asks.

"Dream on," you laugh.

You unfasten your seatbelt and open your door, stepping out into the cool spring air. You stopped in a quiet area, only trees lining the road.

Steve steps out too, rounding the back of the car while you round the front, and when you settle into the driver's seat, looking over to the passenger side for Steve to get in, you notice he's stopped right in front of the door, standing still.

You figure he's taking a break to stand, but after a few seconds of silence, you get back out and look at him from across the car roof.

"Hey, your head okay?" you ask.

To you, Steve is still, unresponsive, but in Steve's mind, when he walked around to the passenger side of the car, a Russian soldier was waiting for him.

In the delusion, he gasps and bangs his hand on the top of the car to alert you and Dustin.

"Guys, get out! Get the hell out!" he screams.

He goes to the driver's side to find you and it's empty. Same with the backseat.

"They left you?" the soldier mocks. "What a surprise."

Steve pants, eyes darting around, trying to find you two.

In reality, you run to his side of the car in front of him, seeing the pale, faraway look in his eyes. Oh God. It can't be.

"Steve!" you shout, shaking him. "Please hear me. Please!"

Dustin clambers out of the car, running to face Steve beside you.

"It can't be..." Dustin says, fear thick in his voice. "No. Vecna died. We killed him."

"But did he stay dead!?" you exclaim frantically.

"The tapes! The tapes in the car," Dustin says. "His favourite song - play it!"

In Steve's head, he sees more Russians come out from the woods, syringes in hand. He shakes his head in disbelief, sprinting down the long road, gasping for breath.

He sees an illuminated opening in the woods, and he figures if this is the Upside Down, that gate will be the way back.

He runs harder, legs pumping, and when he reaches the portal, he squeezes through. It's normal. The world looks normal.

But when he turns to go back to the car, he's face to face with Vecna.

"Thought you could kill me? Outrun me?" he growls. "You can't outrun anything. You lonely, lonely boy."

Steve hears himself trembling, stepping back and finding himself pressed against a hard surface. A vine wraps tightly around his knee.

"You failed," the creature hisses. "Just like everything else you do. You failed."

Meanwhile, you're scrambling to find the tape with "Just the Two of Us" on it in the glove compartment.

"(Y/N), can you move any faster!?" Dustin calls.

"Just give me a second!" you screech. To your relief, you find the familiar tape and pop it into the receiver. The tape was left at the end of that song, so you rewind, hands shaking, then press play, blasting the volume.

With the song blasting, you scramble out of the car and stand in front of Steve, gripping his forearms, shaking him.

"Steve!" you call out.

"Steve Harrington!" Dustin screams, his voice wavering. "Come back!"

Steve hears familiar notes playing in his head. He feels a drop of relief in the sea of doom in his chest. He hears your voice - your beautiful voice - singing along to your song.

"To make those rainbows in my mind, when I think of you sometime..." you sing in echoes.

"You can't do anything to me," Steve angrily mutters at the hideous monster. He thinks to the love he has in his life - you and Dustin and the kids never leaving his side, always trusting him.

Steve breaks free, sprinting towards the opening in the distance - this one he knows is the key back to reality.

"Just the two of us, we can make it if we try," you sing, tears flooding your eyes as Steve stares blankly ahead, eyes pale.

Your body is heavy, heart tight, but you and Dustin keep shaking Steve, calling out to him, and finally, his eyes darken with the beautiful hazel colour you'd fallen in love with. He nearly falls to the ground, having you and Dustin hold him up.

He stabilizes himself by putting his hand on the roof of the car, panting, shaking.

"Vec- Vecna," Steve stammers loudly over the music. You and Dustin pull him in for a hug, hearts racing in unison as you hold Steve. You don't let go for a long time.

Dustin dips into the car to shut off the music. You pull back to look at Steve, your cheeks streaked with tears. He looks down at you, pain kicking him from the inside - he's the reason you're crying like this and it kills him.

"Holy shit," Dustin says, breathing heavily. "Did you even see him coming?"

"I guess, I- I-" Steve says. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Didn't want us to worry!?" Dustin yells, slapping Steve's arm.

"Ow!" Steve shouts.

"Sorry," Dustin says quickly.

"I thought he was dead," Steve explains. "And I just - I figured they were only bad dreams!"

You look at your boyfriend, heartbroken.

"Let's get in the car, okay?" you suggest. The three of you settle back into the BMW, with you in the driver's seat, locking the doors as if it could protect you from Vecna. Your blood runs cold at the realization that he's back.

"What happened?" you ask.

"The..." Steve breathes slowly. "The Russian soldiers. They were trying to get me again."

You share a concerned look with Dustin and put a hand on Steve's knee.

"That thing - it really knows your... your fears," Steve continues, stammering as he breathes rapidly. "It was telling me I'll always be alone."

You inch forward to hold Steve again, wishing your touch could dissolve all his worries. You hug tightly and a hot tear wells in your eye.

"You'll never be alone," Dustin says. "I'm always gonna be around to bother you." He reaches from the backseat to join the hug.

"Me, too. We're your people," you say with a light giggle.

"We gonna figure out to kill this thing for good," Dustin mutters. "Now it's personal."

You and Steve chuckle. Dustin's protectiveness over Steve - who's older, bigger, and stronger - is endearing.

As the three of you sit in the car parked on the side of a random road in a random town, Steve feels his fear slowly melt away.

You're in his arms, the girl who saw all the ugly in his life and still decided to love him, and the boy he considers a little brother hugs tightly, too, determined to follow Steve wherever he goes.

Steve's throat tightens as he holds in a sob. He doesn't know what the future holds, but at least he has his people.

---

Taglist: @calpurniatypes; @rexorangecouny; @slashersluttt; @baker151910; @ultrunning; @prettyboisteveharrington

#fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #steve and reader #steve and y/n #steve harrington and reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines

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marksbear · 1 year

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Steve Rogers x male reader

They come home from a date and the reader gives Steve head which leads to Steve fucking the reader and then the reader fucking steve

With really soft and romantic and cute after care full of kisses and

(Plz make the reader worship Steve’s ass with kisses and eating him out before he fucks steve, thanks babe I love you❤️)

Hey thanks for the request! I made sure to add lots of details and even extras as an apology for taking too long. I love you to baby 🐨

STEVE ROGERS X MALE READER

You and Steve on the way back home after having the best night of your lives. The two of you had way too much fun at their date. Staying there until the restaurant had to close.

Steve was driving to the tower listening to what's on the radio while you stare outside the car window letting your mind wander. "Cap." You turn your face around to look at him He hums in response. "Can I just do you something good from the kindness of my heart?" You ask sitting up "Uh sure! knock yourself out." You nod and look at the road to see an empty parking lot and tell him to drive over there and park. He does what you ask without even thinking once he parks he looks at you to see what you want.

"Excuse me hun" You say getting below the wheel and between Steve legs. "Y-Yn what are you doing?" Steve asks looking down at Y/n who's massaging his thighs. "Oh nothing love just keep driving us home." You respond back while unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers. "Y/n you know I can't focus with you doing that" You gave a nod and smile looking up at him and looked back down and gave Steve kitten licks on his soft cock.

Steve starts the car back up and drives back home. You use your free hand pumping his cock as you lick circles on his cock. "Ah there we go" As you watch Steve cock stand up tall twitching. "Now time for real fun" You say looking at Steve's eyes as you go down on his cock halfway. Steve shivers at the eye contact but focuses back to the road. You suck use your hands on his cock your hands jerk off what you can't fit. After a while you stop using your hands and only suck on the tip. Steve hits this bump on the road and makes his hips jump forward and his cock go down your throat. You moan out of surprise and try to pull away but a hand grabs the back of your head and slams it down back on his cock deepthroating your bf.

You were taken back when your bf started to face fuck you. Steve groan and deep moans escaped from his lips as he skull fucked you. Only listening to the moans,sucking, gagging and crying for you. He never gave you a break. He began fucking your jaw ruthlessly like it was a toy. He taps your head two times as a signal you two made for saying your about to cum. The signal can be anywhere on the body. With one last thrust Steve cums deep in your throat. He lets go of your hair and breathes heavily trying to catch his breath. You swallow all of his cum showing Steve your empty mouth as proof and Steve saying good boy.

You fix his pants and sit back in your seat palming yourself in your seat. Your legs rubbing on each other and Your slow movements to hump the seat. With your cock aching too much you unzip your pants and pull down your boxers. (Or panties whatever you like to wear) Your cock springs free and slaps your stomach. That makes you laugh to yourself but get back to work and begin to jerk off. Steve notices you and lends out a hand wrapping your cock in his hands. You move away your hands and begin to fuck Steve's hand throwing your head back moaning on the top of your lungs.

You already feel your orgasm near which embarrasses you since you obviously lasted way longer before this. "Of fuck yes YEs!" You cry out once you feel you're about to cum. "Cum" Steve says removing his hands away for you to watch you. You start to remember all the things you two had done. You begin to remember what you two did on a mission today. He had pinned you to the wall at some corner of the building you two was to break into but Steve had other plans. In his words you was acting like a brat so he needed to teach you a lesson and fucked you right there where anyone can see you or hear you. That memory makes you cum on the spot. Your load gets on your thighs and shirt.

"Were here" Steve says but you couldn't even hear what he was saying from not even caring coming out of your high. Steve gets out of the car and walks to your door pulling you out of the car and locking it. "Fuck me Steve." "Make love to me Cap." "You should use me like I'm a toy again." "I want that cock inside me." You say to him watching his face go read. "Or should I fuck you?"

Steve ignores all your comments and walks inside the house taking you to the shared bedroom dropping you on the bed. "I already prep myself and I know i made your dick wet so I'm well prepared." You say to him as you throw off all of your clothes spreading your body as an invitation. "When did you prep yourself?" "On our way to the date. And a little in the restaurant bathroom." You smile at him blushing. Steve walks over to you kneeling down next to you taking off his clothes. Once he takes everything off you attack him with your lips. You two get in a heated make out grinding on each other and rubbing yall's cocks together like yall was a pair of animals. Steve pulls away from the makeout to attack your neck and chest leaving hickeys and bite marks. You softly moan in Steve ear holding him close. Steve slides his cock in your hole reaching halfway rocking his hips back and forth. You're already a moaning mess when it's only halfway moaning things like "I-its too much" "YOuR too big!" "Fuck s-Steve!" It's like music to his ear. You don't know why you are so sensitive today. But you love it since it's like double the pleasure.

Steve finally snaps his hips forward hitting your prostate. The sudden action almost made you cum on the spot. You were getting the hang of it of being halfway in you but now it's all in and hitting your prostate every single time he thrust. Steve fucks you in a slow but deep pace hitting all of the right spots. He places soft kisses on your chest while jerking you off flowing the same motion with his thrust. "Cumming! oh god im cumming again!" You say as your cum sprays the both of you making a mess.

Steve stops inside you waiting for you to calm down from your high once you get out of heaven he pulls out.You stare at Steve hard cock twitching and very hard still. At first you wanted to give him some head but another one pops up. "Steve get on your knees all fours baby." Steve listens not thinking much of it. Then you just kiss it. Which makes him arch his back and shivers. You smile at the reaction and start to kiss his ass all over making sure not to miss a spot. "Such a pretty ass. And it's all mine." "Well America can look but can't touch because this is all mine." All of the compliments make Steve a mushy mess and his body feels all hot and bothered.

You begin to lick and kiss his hole still praising him while you do it before you go all out eating him out. Steve taps your head three times to signal you pause for a minute. You stop and look at him "C-can we switch the position?" He asks nervously. You laugh and help him on his back and get back between his thighs. "Can resume?" You ask and he gives you a nod as a yeah. You dive straight back into him eating him out just the way he likes it and even using your pointer finger to reach the places your tongue can.

You hold his thighs raising him up off your tongue and guide him back down like hes riding it. Steve moans got higher when he felt himself getting closer. His body starts to act on its own grinding onto your tongue and his hands grabbing onto your head helping you go deeper inside of him. "I'm cumming! Oh y/n yes please fuck me with your tongue!" He moans out on the top of his lungs the grip on your head gets tighter as he shoots his load all over your face. You look up at him smiling while he still shoots his load all over your face. Steve not even noticing until you said "Am I even more handsome?" He looks down at you and gasps saying sorry uncontrollably. You laugh and tell him don't sweat it.

"Hey you wanna go another round?" You ask looking at him. "You know I can go all day" You laugh at his answer and sit up lining your cock in him. You snap your hips forward so your whole cock is inside him. Steve brings you closer to the point that both of your chests are touching. Steve wraps his arms and legs around you while you fuck him.Your thrust are mimicking what he done to you at the start of all this. You praise him and kiss him for being the best bf in the whole world. Which he smiles and kisses you back. Since Steve last longer you been fucking him for a couple of hours which he loves btw. And you always hold on your pleasure every time your fucking him. Once hes finally close hes a moaning screaming mess. "I loVe you Y/n" "F-fuck!" "C-cum in me." He moans out very often. You tap him two times on his boob- chest I mean and he taps your arm two times and you both cum at the same time.

Yall both lay down next to each holding hands catching yall's breath. You turn to look at him and sit up kissing him deeply. "I love you big man." You whisper on his lips sitting on his lap kissing him.

THE END

Now I took way too long writing that. And I hope you all stay safe.- Love papa bear

#steve rogers #steve rodgers x male reader #x male reader #marvel x male reader #captian america #chris evans #the bear club

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flansuki3 · 9 months

Text

Short fan fic about Makarov and his tattoos

Makarov liked to say that he had been saved by Imran Zakhaev, usually people would use phrases like "He helped me through my battles." or "He was a significant support for me." followed by quite a lot of praise for the person who helped them through their worst moments.But Makarov could talk for hours about how the hero of Russia saved him.

So Makarov had already met Zakhaev, lived in his house and was the family chauffeur. A boring job in his eyes, normally Victor preferred to drive his own car himself and the wife loved to go to places that made Makarov wait hours and hours in the car.

But all in all it was a job he was grateful for, he didn't earn much from it and most of the time he spent reading books in the car while the others went about their business, he was happy to be able to spend time with Imran Zakhaev to drive him to work. Sometimes it was long drives to faraway places, other times they didn't leave the city but it took them all day to go back and forth running errands.

For Makarov those were the happiest days.

"How did you sleep, Mr. Zakhaev?"

"The weather today is so hot, isn't it? Don't worry, I have bottles of water here if you're thirsty. And I also have your favorite snacks."

"I don't mind carrying your shopping for you. The truth is, I get a little bored in the car, I like accompanying you to the mall better than just waiting."

That were phrases that repeated like a loop of infinite bliss, in the quiet life of a human who in the past had not had a single hour of tranquility like this.

To say that he simply respected and loved Zakhaev was to belittle his feelings for him.

Makarov loved him, had fallen in love with him and instead of rejecting those feelings he had stored them in the chest of his heart like the precious treasure they were.

“So, what does that skull on your arm mean?” asked Victor as Makarov took the day's shopping out of the car.

“Nothing really, I just wanted to cause terror to the idiots in prison," Makarov answered frankly in his eccentric frog voice. But I like to show off my tattoos and see the reactions of "normal" people.”

“Father!” Victor caught the eye of Imran who was taking a break in the garden. “Do you think I would look good if I got a tattoo of a skull on my face?” Victor joked just to annoy his father.

Imran approached him trying to put on a calm face and placed his hand on his son's shoulder.

“Only vulgar and undesirable people would do such a thing. Tell me, if your future daughter's boyfriend had a striped body, would it make you happy? Have respect for this family, for your future family and for yourself and never do one of those ugly things to yourself. They are disgusting, I would never love, in any way, anyone so vulgar; normal people don't do that”

“You just gave me a whole lecture just for a joke, Dad.”

Young Victor just laughed and his father followed him in the laughter fest until Imran realized what he had done.

“I said all those things and I didn't even think about the fact that Vladimir was standing in front of me." Imran though.

And yes, Makarov was there with his hands full of vegetables and milk for dinner that night, just staring at him, mute. When Imran returned his gaze the young man set about his work.

Zakhaev caught up with him in the kitchen, stood there for a few seconds and sighed looking at the floor in embarrassment.

“You know well that even if Victor decided to get the ugliest scrawl on his forehead I would still love him, love him very much. You know that, don't you?”

Makarov nodded, nodding as he arranged the vegetables in the refrigerator, a regular maid's chore that ended up being his.

“I don't mind what you think of my tattoos, Mr. Zakhaev. You have no obligation to like me, I'm not your son. And I already knew what kind of image they give to others, I already knew that normal people don't do that.”

In all those years in prison, even in all those years committing crimes he had never felt as ashamed of himself as he did at that moment, he already knew that Imran would never reciprocate, he was married and a member of a traditional family but in his heart he harbored that stupid little hope that invited him to fantasize at night. Even now that childish fantasy felt even dirtier. He regretted every drop of ink that adorned his body as he tried to concentrate on making room for the new food in the lowest part of the refrigerator.

“I spoke without thinking, please forgive me.”

So unexpected, so sweet and warm. Imran the man he loved, the man many others admired had knelt down to Makarov's level to give him a hug.

“I don't think of you as vulgar men, much less as ugly. I think of you as the hardworking, kind young man who is also very intelligent. The boy I'm hugging is very dear to me, you know? Even though you have those tattoos that I don't like, even if you didn't have them I would love you just as much as I do now. I even think they look good on you.”

Makarov let himself be carried away by that brief fantasy that had been brought into the realm of reality and embraced him back.

From that moment you could believe that Makarov had accepted that part of his past, that he would continue to sport his tattoos with pride. But gradually his attire changed to one that covered his body completely, even using gloves to hide the tattoos in that area.

"I want to protect this man, I even want to protect his pride. I do not wish for anyone to feel disgust seeing him next to me. I want everything around him to be pristine and perfect as he deserves."That was what Vladimir Makarov thought as he reciprocated Imran's embrace.

Now he no longer works for the Zakhaev house, now people no longer look at him as that young delinquent that Imran helped out of pity and naivety.Now he can walk around in his elegant black suit and his position of power knowing that his distinguished presence adds even more prestige to the man he loves.

#vladimir makarov #cod mw #Imran Zakhaev #Imran x Makarov #Pretendamos que no he usado deepl para traducir esto #I'm not a English language native sorry for the mistakes

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nightmareofthelake · 3 months

Text

speak to me - [samicolin] - Chapter 3

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Colin stared at the computer. Numbers, letters, and symbols that were supposed to make sense but didn't. Lines and lines of nothing but mysteries and secrets that no one knew and yet Colin was the one who understood it better than anyone. He felt a headache spreading through his skull, dragging his mood deeper into the abyss. Colin loosened his ponytail to relieve some of the tension and ran a hand through his hair. Memories from before flashed through his mind. Of Sam's hand in his hair. The way his nails scraped across his scalp, sending shivers through his body. How he pulled his hair and Colin had to bite his tongue to stop obscene sounds from leaving his mouth. Colin leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and imagined Sam's hand running through his hair and not his. But it was easier said than done because it didn't fit. His hand was too big and rough and didn't feel nearly the same as Sam's.

He should be ashamed of himself for fantasizing about his own colleague. He had already made the atmosphere between them awkward enough. He couldn't lose what little respect Sam still had from him, but it's too tempting to just lean down and place hundreds of kisses on Sam's soft skin. Maybe even steal a sweet kiss or two from his lips. Colin had to pull himself together or the computer wouldn't be the only thing driving him crazy. He couldn't even really explain how these feelings came about. At first Sam was just the new employee and from one day to the next Colin couldn't think of anyone else. It only got worse after he noticed Sam reacting to his voice, causing Colin to develop a strong desire to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Colin had to stay strong. He had to remain professional and treat his colleague with respect. Because that's what they were. Colleagues. Nothing more.

A glance at the clock told him that he had done his time and could go home. It was also late enough that he would be the last one out of the office. Colin didn't know if he would survive another minute with Sam and was grateful that he wouldn't run into him again today. The IT guy packed up his things and thought about whether he should take his wet clothes with him, but ultimately decided against it and left them here to dry until the next day. The walk home will be long and didn't need the extra weight. Colin left the room, which was more of a closet than an office, and made his way to the exit, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Sam just packing up his things.

"Oh!" came from Sam when he saw Colin. “You’re still here!” “I got to work pretty late today,” he reminded him. “Why are you still here?” “The computer was...” “Yeah, I get it.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck and gave the other man an embarrassed smile. “I originally wanted to get you, but then you showed up dripping wet and I wanted to give you time to collect yourself,” Sam began to explain. “But as soon as you got back to work, Freddy was running smoothly again and I didn’t want to bother you.” Colin wanted to protest. Telling him that he could never bother him and that he should approach him more. Blessing him more with his presence. But Colin bit his tongue. "I’ll still take a look at your computer tomorrow.” Colin tried to sound as normal as possible and somehow managed to do so without swallowing his own tongue. Sam just nodded.

“How are you getting home now?” Colin sighed. Just the thought of his journey home was exhausting. Why did he have to live at the other end of the city? "I walk. My luck with taxis is non-existent and I won't even try to wait for a bus or train to get me where I need to go." “I can drive you if you want.” Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. “I don’t want you to have to take a detour because of me…” "That's no problem! I like to help!" Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. “Aside from that, you've already had a shitty day today...and you're probably tired too...” Say no. Say no. Say no. “I...ah...okay.” He's not going to survive this trip.

To say that the silence in the car was anything but uncomfortable would have been a lie. Colin tried not to look in Sam's direction the entire drive while Sam tried to figure out how to start a conversation without sounding completely stupid. Both regretted their decision. Unfortunately for both of them, traffic was particularly slow today as a construction site had appeared on one of the main roads. This meant that the two men had to spend more time together in a small space and if it hadn't been for the radio, you could probably have heard both of their hearts racing. Colin had to suppress two desires that could worsen his relationship with Sam in two different directions. One desire was to take Sam's face in his hands and kiss him as passionately as possible until they were interrupted by the other's honking. The other desire was to jump out of the car and either leave the country or jump into the sea and be swallowed by the waves. Was he a bit dramatic? Possibly. But he couldn't help it that Sam made him feel like that, and unfortunately for him, he didn't even really know why. Yes, he admitted that Samama Khalid was very attractive, but a pretty face usually didn't have that much of an impact on him.

"Welch höhere Macht habe ich erzürnt, so dass ich gefangen bin in dieser gesegneten Folter?" It was an almost barely audible whisper and Colin wasn't even aware he had said anything until Sam suddenly looked at him. “What is the deal with you speaking German?” Colin swallows the lump in his throat. He really didn't want to have this conversation. What was he even supposed to say? Yes, I started speaking German because I know you don't understand it and so I could freely say whatever was on my mind without embarrassing myself or ruining our non-existent friendship. “It helps me not to forget the language.” “Oh, okay.” That was surprisingly easy, Colin thought. I don't believe a word this guy says, Sam thought.

They were both quiet again for the rest of the ride, for which Colin was grateful. Sam parked in front of Colin's apartment and Colin got out. He turned around and wanted to thank his colleague for the ride home, but was interrupted by Sam. “Would you like me to come pick you up tomorrow?” Colin looked at him in surprise. "What?" “Well your car is currently under repair, which means you are currently without a car.” Just thinking about his car gave Colin a headache. Maybe he should just buy a new one. “I can pick you up and take you back home until you get your car back.” Say no. Say no. Say no. For the love of God, say fucking NO! "Yes that would be nice..."

#the magnus protocol #colin becher #samama khalid #my writing #my fanfiction #colin becher x samama khalid #sam/colin #tmagp fanfic #samicolin #fic: speak to me

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undeaddisillusion · 2 years

Note

(this is Omega!Steve dubcon for reference) After Vecna, Steve starts driving Eddie to school too. Then Robin starts getting lifts from Nancy and suddenly it's only them. Eddie starts to catch on that Steve's omega is basically obsessed with him, it's hard not to notice but he can tell Steve is annoyed by it and trying his hardest to not show it. One day Eddie gets into the car and he can instantly tell Steve is close to his heat. It's never been this obvious before. Steve must have forgotten to put his scent blockers on today. He did look frazzled. So Eddie decides to try his luck. He waits for a long stretch of empty road and then turns off the AC, complaining that it was messing up his hair. Then, as hard as he can, he "puffs up" his scent. It fills the whole car and Steve immediately jerks his head towards Eddie and tells him to stop it. The moment their eyes catch it's like Steve can't look away. Eddie ends up having to grab the wheel to stop him from crashing the car. They pull over and Steve's still looking at him. Eddie tells him he's gotta be more careful baby. Steve's still stuck staring at him. Eddie knows he's got him where he wants. He brings his hand up and yanks at the base of Steve's skull. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's panting already. "Eddie we can't, I have work" Eddie can't believe that's what Steve is thinking about right now "You telling me you'd rather go to work than stay with me. You gonna say no to me baby?" And he knows Steve wants to pull away and get to work but he can't, not when Eddie smells like that. He'd say yes to anything right now, even if he doesn't want to. Steve ends up bent over in the back of his own car, every now and then muttering a quiet no, but Eddie just keeps reassuring him this is what he's meant for. "You wouldn't be this hard if you didn't want it baby" "Why are you drooling all over yourself just from kissing me if you didn't want it?" "Give me your mouth and I'll show you what you really want." Eddie knows what he's doing but Steve is just too sweet to pass up.

Yes yes yes.

Eddie doesn't care that he needs to coerce Steve into being his mate. He doesn't care that he has to force his heat-filled mind with his scent.

In the end he has his perfect Omega, purring and holding onto his Alpha even without his heat clogging his brain. Steve just needed a little push.

#omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson

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alphashley14 · 1 year

Text

One Of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

Chapter Three

In My Dreams

A few days after the incident at the Haunted Museum, The Mystery Skulls had just left Lewis’ Manor and were on their way to the Burlington Library. Through their investigations through the records of Crystal Cove (and what they already knew from what their source had told them), they’d discovered a reference to another Mystery Incorporated group: The Benevolent Lodge of Mystery. They knew that other groups like theirs had existed in Crystal Cove throughout the town’s history, but this was the third actual concrete example they’d found, the first being the Mystery Fellowship (aka: the Darrow family) and the second being The Fraternitas Mysterium (but their source had already told them enough about them that they didn’t need to do any further investigating). They were hoping to learn more about the Benevolent Lodge of Mystery, and maybe even to find clues about other groups as well.

“I’m gonna ask you again, Arthur. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look right. And the library is still gonna be there tomorrow.”

“Nah, I’m fine, Vivi. Just… I dunno. I’m just feeling kinda sleepy today.”

And indeed, it was visible to all of Arthur’s friends that the bags under his eyes were back. But Arthur, who all too often hid his pain from his friends, was vastly underexplaining how he was feeling. The fact of the matter was, he’d felt increasingly over the past couple days as if he was becoming disconnected from his own body, and it had reached its peak this morning. Arthur felt as if he could fall over at any moment ever since he’d gotten out of bed. Not to mention that his whole left side was throbbing - he really needed his meds adjusted, they weren’t working as well as they should.

But he didn’t want to trouble his friends with his issues, and he knew how important this investigation was. And above that, he was afraid of being a burden. Which led him to where he was now, sitting in the back of the van trying not to doze off.

Unaware of the true nature of their friend’s condition, Lewis was driving and Vivi and Mystery sat in the front with him. “Do you think he’s okay?” Lewis asked quietly.

“I don’t think he’s as okay as he wants us to think. You know how Arthur is.” Vivi replied in a hushed tone.

“Maybe it’s his meds?” Mystery suggested.

“Possibly.”

“Whatever’s going on with him, the Burlington Library is also a historic home.” Lewis said. “We were planning to spend the night anyway. Maybe when we get there they’ll let him turn in early? Lie down somewhere while we look for clues?”

“Lewis! LOOK OUT!” Vivi shouted.

“Oh, SHIT! ” Lewis slammed down on the brakes and the van came to a screeching halt just a foot shy of hitting a rather unusually dressed fellow standing in the middle of the road. His motorcycle sat parked not far off.

Lewis stuck his head out the window. “Hey, what they hell, man? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“Stand and deliver! I’m the Dandy Highwayman! And this is a robbery.” The man said, pointing his guns at the windshield.

Lewis, Vivi, and Mystery were not impressed.

“What’s going on guys, why did we stop?” Arthur asked sleepily, poking his head over the backseat.

“Apparently we’re about to be victims of a ‘robbery’ .” Vivi explained dryly.

“Looks like another one of Crystal Cove’s fake monsters.” Said Mystery.

“What do you guys think? Shall I whip out the bat?” Vivi asked.

“Nah, stay here. I think I’ve got this one.” Lewis said, getting out.

“Lew, please don’t kill him.”

“So, what’re you supposed to be? The ghost of the Dread Pirate Roberts?” Lewis asked.

To be fair, the Highwayman was very smooth in recovering from the initial surprise of failing to intimidate Lewis. He pointed the barrel of one of his weapons directly at Lewis and said, “I believe you fail to understand, my dear fellow. I am the Dandy Highwayman, and this is a robbery. I’ll be taking all of your valuables in this bag, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh-huh. So like… what are you though? A ghost?”

“My dear lady!” The Highwayman said, walking past Lewis like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t there. He walked up to Vivi’s window. “What a captivating woman. I see an intelligence in those eyes that could only belong to someone worth listening to for hours and hours on end.”

“Oh, really ?” Vivi asked, playing along.

Lewis was shaking with anger. His eyes turned black, his irises glowing a malevolent pink.

The Highwayman, bless him, was oblivious to the fact that he was enraging one of the single most powerful spirits in North America. “Yes, really. I ask, would you like to accompany me? I would be absolutely thrilled to hear all about your life, your hopes, your dreams, and your aspirations.”

“Honey,” Vivi said dryly, “if I told you about half of my life, you wouldn’t believe a word of it. Seriously though, Lew-Lew has me curious. What exactly are you supposed to be? A ghost?”

The highwayman didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. See, around these parts we know a ghost when we see one. Do you know how?”

The Highwayman looked at her confused, so Vivi pointed in the direction of the increasingly bright pink glow.

“Please don’t kill him, Lew.”

When the Highwayman turned, he came face-to face with an absolutely furious spirit. Lewis had gone full ghost - his head a floating skull above his broad shoulders, flames engulfing his cranium and shoulders where his hair should be. And his body was covered by his frightening black and white skeleton suit, the familiar golden heart throbbing with emotion. The Highwayman was so terrified when he saw Lewis that he screamed and ran, nearly knocking his bike over in his efforts to get on it, and nearly running it off the cliff when he tried to race away.

No sooner were the sounds of his engines fading into the distance, Vivi was laughing herself to tears and Lewis was begrudgingly resuming his human illusion and getting back in the car. Mystery was trying (and failing) not to giggle too, and though Arthur was smiling, he was too tired to laugh.

“It’s not funny.” Lewis grumbled.

“Oh come on, Lew.” Vivi giggled, taking off her glasses to wipe the tears out of her eyes, “It was a little funny. I almost feel sorry for the guy, he was so scared! ” Then she burst out into laughter again.

“Do you guys think we should maybe-” Arthur yawned - “call Mystery Incorporated? That seemed like it’d be right up their alley, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think we ever got their phone numbers.” Mystery said.

“No, I don’t think we did. We ought to next time we see them.”

“Oh! I got Mrs. Dinkley’s phone number. I insisted after that mishap at the Haunted Museum, just in case she did need our help with anything after all.” Arthur said, getting out his phone.

He dialed, and the phone rang for a few moments before Mrs. Dinkley picked up. “Hello, Mrs. Dinkley. It’s Arthur, from the Mystery Skulls. We just had a run-in with something… weird, and we wanted to get word to Velma and her friends about it. Would you mind giving us her number? Or just passing the word along?”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Back at the Crystal Cove Library, Scooby Doo had fallen asleep while looking for clues about the Highway Dandyman with the gang. This should have come as no surprise - the great dane hadn’t been sleeping well lately, plagued by terrible and vivid nightmares. Shaggy had been really drowsy the past couple days, too. This time however, Scooby’s dream was more than just a dream.

Within the world of slumber, Scooby lifted his head off of the tome on which it rested to find his friends had left their seats, the pile of books they’d been using back on their shelves. At the familiar sound of a bell, Scooby turned to see Nova standing by the doorway. Without a word, she turned and left. Curious and confused, not fully aware he was asleep, Scooby hopped off the chair he’d been sitting on and followed. When Scooby walked through the doorway after her, he found himself in an unfamiliar corridor. The walls were covered by crimson curtains, and the floors were a strange, smooth black and white zigzag pattern.

“Nova?” Scooby called.

He looked in the direction it looked she’d gone and there at the end of the hall by a marble statue was another doorway. Scooby walked down the corridor and through the doorway, and found himself in a room.

The walls and floor were the same as they had been in the hall, but the middle of the room was tastefully furnished with black chairs and tables and silver lamps in a very simplistic and modern style. A very nervous and very familiar looking teen wearing a yellow and white striped t-shirt was sitting in one of the chairs, and over in an empty space of floor, a strange, very short man in a red suit was dancing to a jazzy tune. Scooby couldn’t help but tilt his head and cock his eyebrow with confusion.

The little man finished his dance and gave a bow, and then said in a voice that echoed throughout the entire space, “Welcome, to the sitting room, Scooby Doo.”

It frightened Scooby so much that he awoke, his head shooting off of the book he’d been sleeping on with a frightened yell. The sudden movement moved the pages and revealed a piece of old parchment that had been hidden between them.

The gang had paused their research, and Velma was on the phone with (Scooby realized after a few seconds of listening) Arthur Kingsmen, one of the Mystery Skulls. Whatever they were talking about must have been good, because she let out an excited “Jinkies!” near the end of the call.

When Velma got off the phone, she reported to the gang that Arthur had called to let her know that the Mystery Skulls had just had a run-in with The Highway Dandyman, but he’d failed to rob them or to get Vivi to go with him, but it was just weird enough that they figured they’d let Mystery Inc. know.

Fred was actually relieved that they hadn’t caught him, because he was eager to get to trapping again after his opportunity to trap had been thwarted two mysteries in a row, now.

After that, the gang returned to their books, and not a minute later Velma found their first clue. All of the books on “dashing rogues” and “devinaire thieves” were checked out by the women who had been abducted. Fred found their second one not long after: a members list for a book club with all the ladies’ names on it, including Daphne’s Mom. Which was odd, because Nan Blake hated reading (unless it was a shopping catalog).

That was when Velma noticed the piece of parchment.

“Where did this come from?” She asked, picking it up. “Cuarto Llave!” She read off of it.

“It’s the fourth key!” Daphne cried.

“But like, we haven’t found the third. I thought we were like, finding these in order.” Shaggy said, rubbing his eyes from where he was resting with his head in his arms on the table.

“Guys, I don’t think it was any accident that we found this. But why here? And how does it tie into the Dandy Highwayman?” Velma asked.

“All I know is we have to come up with some answers fast, or I might never see my mother again!”

“I’ve got it! I’ve got the perfect plan to trap this Dandy Highwayman!” Fred declared giddily.

And like that, it was trapping time.

Unfortunately for Fred, when the time came, he would eat his words about being glad the Mystery Skulls hadn’t caught the Highwayman, when the next girl he took was Daphne.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Daphne and the other women, lucky for the gang, were under no kind of “spell”, as the men of Crystal Cove seemed to think. Rather, being the clever meddling kid she was, she’d gone along with the Dandy Highwayman on purpose to get on the inside and make sure the other women were alright. One act of deception by Daphne and a trap involving some nets and a shed full of TNT later, the Highwayman was unmasked (as the librarian - who would have thought?) and all was well in Crystal Cove once again (at least as “well” as it ever was in Crystal Cove at any given relatively peaceful moment).

… That is, until Scooby fell asleep in the Mystery Machine on the way home.

Shaggy and Scooby were both really tired. Shaggy had been getting increasingly “out of it” the past few days, and he seemed really sleepy - Velma and Scooby were convinced he was getting sick, but he insisted he was still well enough to solve mysteries with the rest of the gang for now. And Scooby of course hadn’t been sleeping well, Kriekstaffebots and “Nibiru is Coming” Nova haunting his nightmares (but that was just too many donuts before bed, right?).

One of the Mystery Skulls’ songs was playing on the radio (Velma had started listening to their music as part of her research about them. Suspicious or not, they were really good.) Shaggy and Scooby weren’t contributing to the conversation much, opting to enjoy Lewis’ voice playing softly from the radio instead. Both of them were looking forward to being back at the Rogers’ residence where they could eat three dinners and then go straight to bed for some well-earned rest.

"When I see you in my dreams,

You can fly so high it seems.

Took me to another level,

Of your love."

And the next thing Scooby knew, he was back in the sitting room.

The dog trembled in fright as that same little man in the red suit walked out from behind one of the red curtains. “Scooby Doo. The time has come. She is… here.” He said in that same echoing voice. The curtains opened once again, and Nova stepped into the room.

“Nova?” Scooby said hopefully.

“I am not Nova.” The cocker spaniel said. “I have only borrowed her body so that I may bring you an urgent message.”

Scooby got down from the chair in which he sat and the two dogs sat across from each other to talk.

“Scooby Doo, your life is in danger. All of your lives are in danger.”

“Huh?”

“I am of the Anunnaki: inter-dimensional beings that visit the planet Earth every few thousand years. We arrive at a time called Nibiru , when the barriers between our worlds grow weak.” Not-Nova explained. “The Annunaki have a long history of helping humans, but we have no physical form and must inhabit animals. This is why some animals - our descendants, like you and Professor Pericles - can talk, and others cannot. This is also why populations of fantastical animal-like creatures exist across the world. They belong to bloodlines that are much closer relatives of ours, and given such they have retained many of our powers.

“But not all Annunaki are kind and good.” Nova said. “There are evil ones, and the most evil of all is imprisoned beneath Crystal Cove, and must not be set free.”

Scooby gulped, and began to tremble in fear.

“But you will not be alone in this endeavor.” Not-Nova said. “When you awaken tomorrow morning, you will find a gift I have prepared for you. Its true value may be unclear at first, but stopping Professor Pericles from freeing his master and destroying the evil entity will be nearly impossible without it. And it will make Pericles’ efforts even more difficult. With the help of my gift, you must undo it, Scooby Doo. Save yourself. Save your friends! Save the world!”

Scooby was so terrified he was awake and on his feet in an instant.

“The cursed treasure is evil! Evil! We have to destroy it!”

As his friends looked on in horror at Scooby’s sudden declaration, the Mystery Skulls continued to play in the background.

And I’m back in my waking life,

Wished you could teach me how to fly.

You make me wish that I was sleeping.

But you keep fighting to survive.

Somehow you’re only in my dreams.

Cause’ as real as this may seem,

I used to think that this was real,

Til’ you came down and you rescued me.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

If being around Professor Pericles was like walking on eggshells before Ricky ended up with mutated cobra larvae in his spine, it was absolutely hellish after.

Destroido’s main building was big , and Ricky had to keep making his rounds to keep up appearances. So avoiding Pericles, Brad, and Judy was easy. It took all of one day for Ricky to become a professional at it.

It came at his poor employees’ expense of course, but he told himself that if he somehow survived until their next paycheck, they’d find a fat bonus that served as his apology. He was a lot more thorough than usual in his inspections and duties, hid in the breakroom for hours on end, took all his meals in the upstairs cafeteria rather than in the one downstairs near the labs or in his private rooms (much to the confusion and horror of his staff), and took an extra break in the bathroom to get his shit together when the urge to scream became too much.

(He was fine. Really. He was totally fine.)

Unfortunately though, he couldn’t hide from Pericles, Brad, and Judy forever. All he wanted to do when that happened was disappear - and sooner rather than later, he usually got his wish. When the others weren’t either snapping at Ricky or rubbing his weakness in his face, they treated him like he was just a fly on the wall. After all, he wasn’t a teammate worth listening to anymore, he was a tool.

An idiot human mascot for Pericles to perch upon.

It wasn’t that Ricky didn’t try to give input - the scheme Pericles was concocting to build a fake post-apocalyptic Crystal Cove and give Brad and Judy plastic surgery to trick Fred and the kids into giving away where they’d hidden the planispheric disk was an utterly insane long shot that he doubted would work even if it wasn’t unnecessarily expensive and complicated madness .

He supposed he could have phrased it better, but he still got tortured with the remote again just for arguing.

Still, at the end of the day, when Ricky crawled back into his rooms, laid on his bed and stared at the wall trying to sleep (fuck you, insomnia) and wishing he could cry his emotions out, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he deserved this.

It was his actions that had put Professor Pericles in the favorable position he was in now, and it was his actions that had led him here.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He’d been a fool to think he meant a thing to his old friends. He’d acted like the leader of the group ever since their alliance began (and why wouldn’t he, considering it was his roof over their heads and his resources they were spending to solve their mystery? Pericles had proven he couldn’t be trusted with leadership, and Brad and Judy were a couple of empty-headed followers), and now they were making him pay for his hubris.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid .

To make matters worse, starting the day after Ricky’s failed rebellion, he noticed he was starting to feel… disconnected. As the days passed, he felt himself becoming increasingly lightheaded, unfocused, and sleepy (though he didn’t get much sleep no matter how hard he tried - again, fuck you, insomnia). There were even moments when it seemed as if he was watching his own body move on autopilot from the outside looking in.

Ricky could think of only two possible explanations: either it was a side effect of the poison he was being tortured with (because God only knew what the after effects of mutated cobra venom were), or his depression was coming back.

As ridiculous as it sounded, he honestly hoped it was the former, because now was not the time for his own bullshit to cause even more problems for him.

Still, it was most certainly a possibility. He’d been off his meds for over a year now, trying not to be dependent on them for his entire life. And it had worked - his depression hadn’t come back after he stopped (sending helpful hints to a certain gang of meddling kids had helped with that too). But given recent events, it would make sense if his mental state had changed.

Assuming it was the latter (he couldn’t exactly do anything about the former), Ricky started taking his pills again and did what he’d done in the past to chase his demons off: he poured himself into working.

Ricky refused to let himself fall into the state he’d ended up in in the past. Especially now, when he was vulnerable enough already. So, to keep himself from getting to that point, he forced himself to do basic daily tasks like cleaning and personal hygiene in the mornings. Then once the day actually got started, he put even more vigor into his rounds, looked for non-existent things to fix on the Enigma Machine (he was allowed near the car, but he wasn’t allowed to drive it unless Brad, Judy, or Pericles was with him), and when he wasn’t doing that he was looking for Cassidy.

He had been worried before. He was really worried, now. There hadn’t been a trace of her in weeks - ever since Pericles had said she’d been taken care of. Ricky had been a fool to twist those words for the sake of his own comfort.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She can’t be dead.

Still, it wasn’t easy.

Firstly, Pericles wasn’t giving him access to the internet. He was only allowed access to things within Destroido’s own systems, save their communications. To top it off, Brad and Judy kept barging in at random moments any time he was online just to “check in”.

Bullshit . It was another tactic to remind him of his place, and nothing more.

Secondly, no matter how hard he worked or how busy he kept himself, his symptoms persisted. Were the meds not working? Or did he need his dosage adjusted? Perhaps it really was because of the venom. Or maybe it was unrelated, and he was just getting sick?

Whatever. He didn’t care what happened to him. All he cared about anymore was knowing that Cassidy was alright. One evening, Mr. E was using the company’s systems, searching for any trace of Cassidy, when he became aware of a certain pair of back-stabbing leeches entering the room behind him.

Ignore them, and maybe they’ll go away.

“You’ve been on the computer more and more.” Brad observed.

Fuck.

“He sure has, Brad!” Judy piped in, “You’re not allowed on the internet, so what do you do in here for hours on end?”

“There’s been no sign of her for weeks!” Ricky blurted out, turning around to face them.

“Who are you looking for?” Judy asked.

“Cassidy.” Ricky replied, failing to conceal the concern in his voice.

“Maybe she finally gave up.” Brad suggested smugly.

“No! She would never give up!” Ricky said firmly, standing up. “She’s gone.”

“Of course she’s gone.” Professor Pericles said, flying into the room and landing on a monitor above Ricky’s head. “Anyone who crosses me gets… eliminated.”

Ricky’s heart sank to his feet, hammering like a drum the whole way down. Horror twisted his guts into knots. “N-no. You didn’t.” Ricky stammered. The last bit came out higher pitched than intended, his throat was closing in on itself and his vision was blurring around the edges. It took a second for him to realize it was because tears were welling in his eyes.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She can’t be dead.

“You were informed she had been taken care of.” The bird said, fluffing his feathers dismissively. Ricky’s legs gave out under him and he sank to his knees. It was suddenly getting very hard to breathe.

You agreed with him that something needed to be done about her. What did you think he was going to do?! Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

And of course, seeing it getting to Ricky, Pericles had to take the opportunity to twist the knife. “Would you like to know how she died?” The parrot asked, fluttering down from the top of the monitor to the edge of the desk.

The only one of us left that was worth saving, the only person left on Earth who might have given a shit about you, and he killed her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. It’s all your fault. You killed her. You killed her! You killed her!

“If it is any consolation, my sweet Ricky, she likely did not suffer.” Pericles said. “They say that drowning is one of the most peaceful ways to die. If the explosion didn’t kill her instantly.”

“Fuck you.” Ricky wheezed.

“What?”

“FUCK YOU! You bastard!” Ricky roared. “You were always jealous of her! All because you wanted me all to yourself, you just couldn’t let me have anyone else that I loved! And look at what you’ve done to us!” Ricky wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t care anymore. He felt as if he was watching from the outside as just a tiny splash of the years of repressed anguish spilled out of him. “Brad and Judy threw away their own son like garbage for that stupid treasure! Anyone with eyes can see what I’ve become! Cassidy was the only one of us who was strong enough to stay good in spite of that stupid curse - in spite of you! And YOU KILLED HER!”

Ricky didn’t even mind the punishment he received for his outburst. Even when his throat was hoarse from his silent screams and his spine felt as if it was being ripped out, the pain was a welcome distraction from his grief and his crushing guilt. Those hurt a thousand times more than anything Pericles could ever do to him.

You deserve this. She’s gone. She’s dead. You killed her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

When it was over and Ricky came back to his senses, he was alone. Pericles, Brad, and Judy had just left him there on the floor to get ahold of himself. He didn’t know how long he laid there, waiting for the aftershocks to subside, but when he got up he was feeling oddly numb. He took a look around the room one more time before he shut off his monitors, turned out the lights, and left to return to his rooms.

Once in the privacy of his own chambers, he went to the kitchen first, where he retrieved a bottle of wine. Something stronger tempted him, but he didn’t want to completely silence his pain with alcohol. Cassidy deserved better than that. Then he went into his room and shut and locked the door behind him.

Ricky uncorked the wine and took a long swig straight from the bottle, before he set it on his bedside table, walked into his bathroom, stood before the sink, and took a long look at himself.

Fuck , he hated himself. He didn’t realize it was possible, but he hated the man that scowled back at him in the mirror even more than he hated Professor Pericles. Disgustingly fat, hair that had grown past his shoulders simply because he didn’t give enough of a shit about himself to cut it, dark bags under his eyes that carried the burden of his existence.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

His own self-loathing stabbed through the cloud of numbness that had been shielding him, and without even thinking about it, Ricky screamed and punched the mirror as hard as he could.

It didn’t shatter. Rather, it left a crater-like crack where his fist hit the glass, and he wasn’t sure if that said more about the mirror or about what a damn weakling he was. Either way, his hand was bleeding.

Ricky was tempted to leave it as it was, but he begrudgingly disinfected and then bandaged his bloodied knuckles before walking back into his bedroom, that familiar numbness returning. Then he sat down on the edge of his bed and took another few gulps of that wine, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hand, and he… existed. He honestly wasn’t sure how long he just sat there, numb to the universe, occasionally taking another drink, before he turned his head and his eyes fell upon the framed photo of Cassidy, his beautiful Angel, on his dresser.

Just the sight of her broke the spell. Ricky’s throat closed again, he choked back a sob, and he wiped his tears away with his sleeve. Then he set the bottle down on his bedside table, reached down under his bed, and pulled out a box he didn’t touch very often anymore - it was custom made, made of dark mahogany with a certain logo in the shape of a magnifying glass on the lid. He unlatched it, opened it, and took out a large photo album before closing the box and sliding it back under from whence it came.

With a level of carefulness he didn’t use with many other things, Ricky opened the book to his favorite pages - the ones that were about her .

Angel Dynamite.

When they had first reunited when Cassidy first returned to Crystal Cove, he’d never said anything about the fact that she used his old nickname for her as her new alias. But damn , did she rock the DJ look. In spite of everything, she’d managed to move on from the trauma of their youth, something he had never been able to do. Cassidy had continued to grow and change in a way he hadn’t, and she’d made something of herself. “Angel Dynamite the DJ” wasn’t quite as grandiose as “Mr. E the wealthy and powerful CEO and founder of Destroido Industries”, but unlike him the person she’d become was good , and she had found and kept her happiness where she could.

He’d never told her, but he had always admired her for that. Why had he never told her that ?

Cassidy Williams, their first day of their freshman year at Crystal Cove High. She looked so dorky and cute in her pigtails, those square glasses, and that pretty green dress.

Angel Dynamite standing by her radio station for K-Ghoul’s grand opening.

Cassidy eating with a younger him at Skipper Sheldon’s.

Angel Dynamite DJ-ing an event in Crystal Cove.

Cassidy standing with him in her parents’ foyer just before he took her to prom.

Cassidy sitting with him on the hood of the Enigma Machine.

Cassidy Williams, with her Mystery Incorporated pin proudly pinned to her dress in the photo they took of her for the club’s page in the yearbook.

‘Thinking of Cassidy again,’ him-of-the-past had written next to this photo. ‘Remembering when we first met. Professor Pericles was there and I could tell he was jealous. He didn’t want to share me with anyone.’

Meeting me was the worst thing that ever happened to you.

Ricky cried that night in a way he hadn’t cried in twenty years. I’m so sorry, Cassidy. How could you ever forgive me? My Angel Dynamite.

Insomnia be damned, his exhaustion finally took over and he eventually cried himself into a fitful slumber.

Fitful that is, until the dream.

Ricky opened his eyes to find that instead of on his purple bedspread, he was for some reason laying on the floor. But it was most certainly not his floor or his room. He was in a corridor. The floor had the strangest black and white zigzag pattern, and the walls were covered by crimson curtains.

Ricky sat up, rubbing the wetness from his eyes. He swallowed nervously and stood. There was a doorway at the end of the corridor, and standing next to it was… him . The younger, thinner, healthier version of himself. Back when he was seventeen, the last time he had ever been happy. Solving mysteries, in love, and still thought he was surrounded by loyal friends. The version of himself he’d wanted nothing more than to go back to for the past twenty years.

God, you must think I’m such a piece of shit.

But, the other him wasn’t looking at him with disgust. There was something warm yet sad in his expression. He walked through the doorway. Ricky followed.

The room he found himself in was a circular intersection between the corridor he’d just come from and two other hallways. At the center of it sat a small, vaguely familiar cocker spaniel. And right as Ricky entered, two other figures walked through the other two doors with just as much trepidation. But Ricky wasn’t paying attention to them. The doorway to his left… for some reason he felt compelled to go there. Was that where the other him had gone?

Curious, he walked into the room, past the cocker spaniel, and stepped into the dark corridor from which one of the other two figures had come.

As Ricky continued onward, it was so dark he couldn’t see a thing. The doorway behind him had disappeared, and its light along with it. He wasn’t exactly sure when he fell asleep. But the second he opened his eyes, he was suddenly wide awake.

Coming face-to-face with the bared teeth of an angry great dane will do that to you.

Fun, angsty bit of trivia for you all because not enough people caught this in the show: ‘Thinking of Cassidy again,’ him-of-the-past had written next to this photo. ‘Remembering when we first met. Professor Pericles was there and I could tell he was jealous. He didn’t want to share me with anyone.’ I didn't make that up for this story. That's canon. In Season 2, episode 24: 'The Gates of Gloom', in the scene where Ricky is shown to be looking for Cassidy and he first learns she's been killed (part of that dialogue was used in their conversation but I made his reaction more devastating for ✨spice✨) If you zoom in on the book of photographs he's looking through, you can see the captions of one of them reads: "Thinking of Cassidy again. Remembering when we first met. Professor Pericles was there and I could tell he was jealous. He didn't want to share me with anyone." I don't know if Professor Pericles ever loved Ricky, but one thing's for sure: he was obsessed and extremely possessive of him. That's not love, but it's toxic and dangerous as hell. It's a small detail that's easy to miss but for those who notice it, it says a LOT about their relationship.

And yes - I know. I'm warped. But there can be no comfort without hurt! And come on - how much did I reeeally change Ricky's suffering from the canon material?

Chapters 1 through 10 of One of Us are currently posted on Archive of Our Own.

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spiked-mall-goth · 10 months

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ummmmm guys. i have had a day let me tell you. super long diary like entry lol

i had to get up early to go see my papa and help him move some furniture, and although i was running on a total of 2 1/2 hours of sleep i was excited. he lives out in the city and its about an hour and a half drive but the highway is completely surrounded by trees so that was a fun ride. listened to lots of music and talked about barbies with my dad. we counted 21 total yard sales on the trip.

got home and ate lunch after unloading some beds. my papa wanted some old twin beds out of his house so we took them home. i have a new mattress now!! which hopefully means far less daily back pain!!

after lunch we decided to go to a few of the yard sales we passed by. and let me tell you i got a HAUL. i got a pair of really nice pajama pants that have little skulls on them, then at the next one they had SO MUCH STUFF!!! like guys.. i got a sweater for 25 cents.. GUYS. i got a little black sweater, a flowy black summer top, a fucking black velvet CAPELET, and the most gorgeous black 80s prom dress; although sadly it does not zip and needs alterations but its WORTH IT!!! it has really big poof sleeves and a massive flower sash omg guys its AWSOME. at the same place i also got a little fake ivy for my kitchen :D it desperately needed a little life, a big ass puzzle to work on with my brothers, and they had MOUNDS of vhs tapes... for FREE. soooo uh yeah. may or may not have come home with like twenty new tapes. oh yeah did i metion that i only paid like a total of six dollars so far?? i made out like a Bandit. final yard sale and the woman was like 'uhhhh $1.25.'. so for a $1.25 i got a peanuts drinking glass (i think from mcdonalds..), the entirety of firefly on dvd, and a ceramic angel. normally i do not go for religious imagery in my decor, but. it was like 102F.. i hadnt slept since my two hour night.. i was severely dehydrated.. heat exhaustion was setting in a little bit.. and i dunno, she just called to me. she reminded me of laura palmer.

okay, so i get home and unload all my of goodies, then i start cleaning my room. i have to disassemble my old bed frame and clean under my bed and shit. i already have a pounding headache at this point but i have schedule to keep. beds gotta be moved b4 tmrrw. so i am FIGHTING trying to get the frame apart, i'm all sweaty and gross and i finally get it!! :D i feel some stuff falling over behind me and b4 i can even look up i get whacked right upside my head loony tunes style with a huge metal beam :( i start feeling kinda funny and i vaguely remember talking to my brother who told me to lie down. i pass out cold and hard on the couch for about an hour. vague memories of seeing something in the room with me. not really important i just think you should know.

wake up to my brothers shaking me to make sure i havent DIED. i lived! yayyy!! ate dinner, and then it was time. i have been looking at this online auction for over a week now and it was ending in a matter of minutes. i did when some some stuff! i got the directors cut of JTHM, revenge of the filler rabbit, and some other comic which i cannot remember rn.. but anyways it was 5 bucks! and then i bought a snoopy wallet for a few dollars. although i did miss out on a clear phone.. so sad. but overall i had a very good shopping day today idk why. everything just like fell into my lap at affordable prices... like wow..

after the auction i still had not moved my new bend in (ya know.. bonk on da head) so i fight forever to get it put together. but yippeee!!! its al here! and i was given a new blanket to put on it which is very soft :3

anyways now im here after showing and watching x files for a bit.

if you read all of that.... wow. ily <3. i normally dont like to just like info dump about my irl daily stuff, but today was just so like action packed it was kinda bonkers. anyways i have to go to bed bc i have more stuff going on tmrrw.... and i honestly might just cancel them.. i am TIRED.

#spikes rambles #sorry. loooooooonnnnggg ass post lol #but just so much HAPPENED

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1000-niche-interests · 11 months

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Lol what’s a title

AGHGHHGGHGHGHGHGH @taylortut gave me permission to write something for her AMAZING The Last Place on Earth series, so here’s a short sickfic about Kit Reed, aka tlpoe’s certified Cool Older Lady™

Disclaimer: I read just about every TLPOE story I could get my grimy slimy hands on (aka: found in the tag) to get context for this story and make it accurate, but I STILL don’t really know how the Last Place team’s jobs work, or if they even can be surveilled, but let’s just say that Lacey’s task in this story is very important and high risk or something. Idk, I don’t specify the details anyway! But sorry if I get anything wrong!

Also uhhhhhh does Roni and Kit’s daughter have a name? I feel like I don’t remember her having one so I just call her a bunch of nicknames when I reference her in this story. Hope that’s okay??? maybe?

---

“Kit. Kit. Kitty!”

Kit Reed dragged her eyes open to the tone of her wife shaking her, the sound of Roni’s alarm clock going off pulsing around her skull. The sunlight streaming in the window was too bright, the alarm clock was too loud, and even Roni’s hands on her shoulder made Kit flinch away uncomfortably, half asleep and half knowing that no, this probably wasn’t a good feeling to wake up to.

A better feeling, though, was Roni’s hand on her face, then her forehead, lingering there long enough that Kit probably should have been worried, but found herself too tired to actually think about it.

“Ah, now that explains it.” She heard Roni mutter, the alarm blissfully silent now as her wife’s hand pulled away. “You have a fever.”

Now that did get Kit thinking, because she suddenly remembered what day it was. Shit. This just wouldn't do at all.

“Can’t,” Kit said, sitting up even though it made the room tilt like a mockingly slow carnival ride. “Medina’s got that job today. I have to be there.”

“Well, sorry honey, but you can’t control if you’re sick or not… and you are, most definitely, sick today.” Roni replied, a familiar furrow of concern settling between her brows as Kit pushed herself out of bed and made her way to the closet to get dressed. She heard her wife sigh from behind her, heard the bed creak as Roni got up, Kit pulling on a bra and a shirt without real choice of purpose. Roni always got up half an hour later than her, which meant Medina was set to go in an hour, and with the drive to the office, Kit didn't have long to get ready if she wanted to make the time.

“Hey, Kitty?” Roni called in, then appeared behind her as Kit combed back her hair with her fingers, suddenly unable to find the comb Roni always put here, specifically for her in the mornings. “Remember when we sent the kid to school with a cold because she had a test? And then they sent her home with a 101 degree fever?”

Kit did remember. Their daughter had aced that test, too, and they’d kept her home for the rest of the week to recover. Roni even gave her ice cream for breakfast one day to make up for sending her to school. Kit had been glad she was okay, and felt bad they didn’t know she’d been that sick. Still, their daughter had gotten an A on the test, something she knew for a fact the kid was still proud of to this day; so was Kit.

“It’s not noble to push yourself to work when you’re sick. Not for Lacey, definitely not for you. You trained them, they’ve got this.” Roni said, still behind her, then pushing the familiar plastic comb into her hands. “And you especially shouldn’t go in sick enough that you can’t find the comb that’s in the same place I always put it…” Her wife was convincing, and Kit almost wanted to give in and go back to bed, but… Medina’s job was too important. Too dangerous. She needed a professional watching her back on the cams, and that’s what Kit was. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, leave Lacey without that. God knew Medina got hurt enough on her own, she didn’t need another injury because Kit couldn’t do her job.

“I hear you, Roni.” Kit sighed, a low crackle of congestion ominous in her lungs as she did. “But I still need to go. Just for Medina’s job, then I’ll take the rest of the day off. Alright?”

“And tomorrow.”

“...And tomorrow.”

Roni nodded, stepping away. “Okay. I’ll drive you to work, alright? And back. You’re too dizzy to be behind the wheel.” Part of Kit wanted to object, there, but a dizzy spell cut her off as she turned her head wrong, and she relented.

---

Three hours later, Lacey Medina was back at the Last Place successful, and even in one piece. She did, however, get the sense something wasn’t right as she entered.

Kit hadn’t been in when she’d left, despite literally always arriving at the same time every day, before Lacey’s departure time for this assignment. It struck her as odd, but the oddest thing was that when she got back, Mrs. Reed, Roni, was there too, and Kit was somehow really pale and really flushed at the same time. Not to mention shivering, despite the sheen of sweat on her forehead as Roni sat her down, TJ hovering nervously nearby as Esther returned from the kitchen, a glass of ice water in hand.

“What’s going on?” Lacey asked, with Eve, who had been her ride back from the job, closing the door behind them.

“Kit kinda took a page out of your book, Lacey,” TJ said, in a tone that indicated he was joking, but also quite worried. “Almost fainted.”

“It was not fainting,” Kit bit out, tone terse, but surprisingly lacking her usual bite as she took the glass of water offered to her by Esther. “I just… got dizzy. More dizzy then I was before.”

“And almost passed out, yes, that’s what fainting is, honey.” Mrs. Reed spoke softly to her wife, but just loud enough that everyone else could hear. It almost made Lacey feel like she was intruding. Then, a thought struck her.

“Wait, Kit, what are you doing here if you’re that sick?” She asked the very question Kit herself had asked Lacey many times. And despite Lacey knowing her own personal answers, she had no idea what Kit’s reasoning was. It wasn't like anything would fall apart if Kit took a sick day, and she knew that, even though they all knew she loathed admitting it.

“We already had arrangements on the job today,” Kit explained with a weak shrug, shivering and pulling her suit jacket tighter around her frame. “I just had to be here. In case.”

“Of?” Eve asked from behind Lacey, but guiltily, Lacey could already guess the answer.

“In case I got hurt. Or needed backup.” She said quietly, and Kit nodded.

“Whatever else you are, Medina, or what you’ve done, you’re a good kid.” Kit said, looking at Lacey with glassy, bloodshot eyes that made Lacey almost wonder if the older woman was delirious. “Can’t stand the thought of something happening to you because I wasn’t there. You’re my responsibility. All of you.” Kit gestured vaguely at everyone else, too, and Lacey got the point but she still felt bad about it. She’d technically dragged Kit into work like this because...

“Okay, now that Lacey’s back, I really have to get her home,” Mrs. Reed broke Lacey’s train of thought as she spoke, helping Kit to stand. “Fever reducer, tea and sleep for a couple days, I think… Hope you kids can manage the Place by yourself.” Mrs. Reed gave a knowing smile, and for just a beat Lacey’s guilt vanished.

Kit was their boss. Kit was good to her, even motherly at times (in all the good and bad ways). Kit did this for her, and if Mrs. Reed knew they could handle things, then so did Kit.

She had faith in them. And in that moment, Lacey even had faith in herself.

(Yes, the last “Place” is capitalized on purpose. I think I’m funny)

#tlpoe #thank you SO MUCH for letting me write about Kit ;)#i love all your characters but she is my favorite #and i also hope you like this lol

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writeblrsummerfest · 9 months

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Lemon Tree Lane

“Okay, everyone.” Lizzie clears her throat. She’s sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the couch, the camera balanced on the cushions so it’s facing her. She feels like she’s being watched, and not just by the proverbial viewers that will, hopefully, one day look at this film.

She feels like she’s being watched by something in the house.

Lizzie wraps her tail around herself, so she can run her paws over the thick fur of it. When she was a kitten, she would wring her tail between her paws so often and so hard, she would work bald spots into it.

“I think that… I think that we should talk about why I’m here.”

A deep breath. Silence in the house.

“I made a deal with someone. Something. And if I can stay in this house all night… I mean, hey! I get something really great.”

Lizzie tries to crack a smile, but it feels plastic on her own face. The sound of footsteps from upstairs makes her ears fold back against the curve of her skull.

The smile vanishes.

She takes another deep breath, holds it, lets it in a whoosh. “I don’t like ghosts. That was never my thing. But – But sometimes, this spooky stuff is worth it, right? So. I’m going to try my best to stay here all night. Because my best friend really needs me to. And if I’m lucky, I’ll find -”

Thump.

Something heavy hits the ground in the dining room nearby. The water turns on in the kitchen with a burst of bubbling pipes. Someone starts to him, directly behind her.

Lizzie jumps to her paws, grabs her camera, and she runs.

Straight.

Up.

The.

Stairs.

-*-

We’ve got a special challenge for you! Today we heard a bit more about WHY Lizzie is in Lemon Tree Lane, and then we saw her go upstairs. Well, she’s put out a challenge for all of the other explorers out there!

Write your minky (or other character!) a little bit about WHY YOUR MINKIE is at Lemon Tree Lane, and WHAT MAKES THEM GO UPSTAIRS. This will be an ongoing challenge! Every day, we’re going to see a little bit more of Lizzy’s story and get a new Lemon Tree Lane prompt. Let’s explore the haunted house together!

-*-

Welcome to the sixth day of the Writeblr Summerfest! We have so many amazing things planned for this month, but first, I want to introduce Lizzy! She’s the driving force behind the community selected Haunted House theme for the festival this year!

Now, before we get started, I want you to take a look at Lizzy! She’s the mascot this year! She’s called a minky, and her character sheet was made by the lovely @mothersart! Now, Mother has volunteered her services to do what we’re calling grab bag commissions for anyone that wants their own minky explorer to take part in the events! She currently has THREE OPEN SLOTS.

Here’s a LINK to her commission sheet, but I’ll summarize it for you, too! She has two options.

$10 gets you a total grab-bag surprise minky explorer, you don’t get to customize it but you get to own the character forever onward!

$15 lets you pick a ‘theme’ for the explorer; do you love pastel goth? Cottagecore? Skateboarding? Let her know, and it will be the inspiration for your minky (ps, you still own them)!

While it’s not a requirement, I highly recommend you considering it if you’ve got the spare change laying around! Mother has been a huge help getting things together with the event this year, and her minkies are just absolutely amazing!

#lemon tree lane #writeblr #writing prompt #writeblr summerfest store

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avegool · 2 years

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June

The first week of June was blistering hot. You and Sans had spent almost every day out in the stream in the backyard. He mostly spent his time sitting on the footbridge, dangling his boney toes in the cool late spring water. You, however, were much braver than he was. You lounged in the water, not that it was too deep. Still, it was enjoyable on your hot skin.

Today was the same. Sans had laid on the footbridge, kicking up a little water every now and then as he rested. You lay on the stream's bank, legs in the water while you read through notes that Alphys had left for you at the lab.

Today differed from the previous days, though. Today was Papyrus's last day of the semester, and he was taking the summer off to save money for next semester's textbooks. (Medical textbooks were a pain to purchase, even used.) So, he had decided to join Sans' and yours lazing about in the garden. He argued that Sans was being extra lazy. ("HOW DARE HE NOT GO TO WORK TODAY!") Yet, he justified your equal laziness by saying, "BUT YOU'RE AT LEAST WORKING WHILE BEING LAZY!!" Which, technically was right. At the same time though, you couldn't verify Alphys's research notes without being back in your room.

"are you going to join us at the drive-in movie, bro?" Sans lazily flicked cold stream water in Papyrus's general direction with his skeletal foot, "or are you gonna make another excuse to avoid spending time with miss smarty pants over there?"

Papyrus had unfortunately sat next to you on the bank of the stream. So, you also got splashed by the cold water. Fortunately, you managed to cover your documents in time. Papyrus dabbed at the cold water on his skull with his scarf, a little annoyed, but not vocal about it.

"I'M NOT SURE WHAT YOU'RE REFERRING TO, BROTHER," he said, "I HAVEN'T AVOIDED SPENDING TIME WITH DOC, I'VE JUST BEEN VERY BUSY WITH FINALS!!!"

You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and fluttered your eyelashes at him. Papyrus's skull glowed a faint orange as he looked away from you immediately. His fingers dug into the damp grass and moss beside you, and you noticed he was extra tense after finally finishing finals.

"YES, I SHALL ACCOMPANY YOU BOTH TO THE FILM!" he finally agreed, "I THINK I DESERVE A BREAK."

You squealed a little too hard and flopped over on top of Papyrus's lap, happy to know he was finally going to take a break to spend time with you and Sans.

He had been so busy this semester. You had thought that moving in with them would let you see him more, but you were wrong. In fact, Sans had mentioned he spent even less time out of his room when you did. You understood, though. You were a distraction. So, outside of trying to become better friends with Sans, you also focused more on your work. The Human Souls don't study themselves, right?

"finally," Sans yawned, "good, then you can make the snacks and bring the blankets and shit for the back of the car. You still driving, doc?"

You were the only one with a car big enough to fit two skeletons and a human, so yes. You were. You nodded in agreement and closed the manila folder and pushed it up the embankment towards safety.

Sans slowly sat up, rubbing at his eye sockets. His eye lights were hazy, no doubt from the nap he had taken before Papyrus had come out.

"WHAT FILM ARE WE SEEING, ANYWAY?"

You and Sans grinned at each and said (in unison), "MONSTERS UNIVERSITY!"

"Yeah, they're showing it on the screen for kids' night, but we thought you'd like to see it," You chirp, "You really liked Monsters Inc. and we wanted to make sure you would enjoy the movie, y'know?"

"i bought the tickets ages ago," Sans kicked the water again, "actually, the day they went on sale. if you weren't gonna go, i was gonna invite the kid."

You shook your head at him, "Frisk is hardly a kid anymore, Sans," you chastise, "Besides, they haven't been able to sit still for long since their new treatment plan went into effect. It gives them so much energy."

"YEAH, BUT THAT'S EXPECTED, ISN'T IT?"

You frown slightly, scratching at your chin, "It was one of the side effects that I predicted," you agree, "I just don't think it's healthy. That's why I'm observing them twice a week now. It's kind of hard being the only expert on Human Souls in the world, you know? Gotta come up with all this stuff on my own."

Sans's smile stretched slightly, "hey, if any human can do it, it's you," he said, "you've been doing it even before monsters came to the surface. you said since high school, right? you were a kid then."

A flush grew on your face at that, "I mean, experimenting on your own Soul is a little different than others," you replied and looked at your watch, "ANYWAY, the movie starts around 10. So, let's have dinner and get ready, okay?"

.:.:.

The trunk of your car was packed full of blankets, pillows, and containers of snacks that Papyrus had gathered up. It was almost 10, and you and the boy had arrived at the drive-in theatre. Sans was snoozing in the back seat as you waited for your parking pass. Papyrus was nervously looking out the window at the other humans in the lot with their children.

You reached over and gently grabbed his hand. It was gloveless, and you were glad. Papyrus had stopped wearing his mittens once he got used to the surface. He needed to use his fingers for the meticulous work he would do in the future. You gently weave your fingers into his phalanges. Papyrus jumped, gave you a flustered look, but then curled his fingers around yours as well.

Soon after, the attendant checked your tickets and handed you a parking pass. Once parked, you adjusted the radio to the correct station and opened the trunk of the car. Papyrus nudged Sans awake so you could lower the back car seats and spread the cushions and blankets out in the trunk.

Sans was awake enough when the beginning of the movie started. You were wedged in between the two skeletons, warm and content. This was the safest and happiest you've felt in a while. You hadn't had many friends before you met Papyrus. Even Sans had been a bit of a shithead when you met, so right now, the fact he was willing to spend time with you and lay next to you like this made you happy. When was the last time you spent time with someone like this?

You leaned your head against Sans' clavicle and yawned. Papyrus was enraptured in Monsters University, Sans was almost asleep. You were probably going to join him soon. Maybe this summer won't be too bad.

#sans x reader #papyrus x reader #undertale x reader #reader insert #x reader #female reader #undertale #sans #papyrus #june #fluff #summer #summer vibes #cute #falling in love

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twdmusicboxmystery · 1 year

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Galadriel's Rewatch of Davon

What I actually wanted to do today was share that I rewatched Davon last night!! It was interesting watching it with the new info in mind about Daryl’s spin-off.

I have a couple notes, some of which we’ve talked about but now there’s new perspective, some of which I don’t remember if we talked about.

First, I took note of the images pulled from the six episodes that are used in the credits. They’re all important images to TWD and its weirdness as associated with the CRM, particularly re: Beth and Rick. There’s an explosion, a graveyard, skull w measurements, a mysterious house with a dark figure and a full moon, a motorcycle, and a boat.

Going to try and plow through these Davon notes. Lmk what you guys think. Per the images above, I really like the one with the dark figure and the blood moon, because the dark figure reminds me of the dark figure in the picture from WHAWGO. Could be coincidence. Idk. But that figure in the drawing in WHAWGO has always troubled me. Like that’s creepy and something is off about it.

This time around, I really got the sense that Davon being handcuffed to dead Amanda is like a reference to the albatross. It reminds me of the orange backpack, ie: Who is carrying the burden? It’s not clear how he gets Amanda back to the house, but it’s probable he just carried her and hallucinated the rest, since it’s pretty clear that he bashes her brains out with his prosthetic leg in the woods.

So as he was walking around with Amanda, having these memories, I thought, this is a reference to a man that is handcuffed to his burdens, and those burdens consist of deaths that are not his fault, but that feel like they’re his fault. This reminded me of a literalization of Daryl. Like he’s walking around with Beth handcuffed to his wrist. Sophia. Merle. Rick. Denise. It’s neverending, and the burden gets heavier and heavier.

Next, there are some interesting brand or company references in Davon. The director is sure to zoom in on them, but REALLY quick. It’s clear we’re meant to see them, but only if we care enough to look.

The two companies I’m talking about are the manufacturer of the TIRE we see and the manufacturer of the storage bin. The tire manufacturer is Cooper Tire and Rubber Company, based out of Findlay, OH. The bin manufacturer is Akro-Mils, based out of Akron, OH. That’s two Ohio references. I think it’s clear there’s definitely going to be some sort of Ohio thing going on with Daryl’s spin-off. Even if indirectly. I get the sense that possibly that’s where the outbreak could have originated, if the Primrose Team was in Toledo when it happened.

In the WB Coda there’s a reference to TB Ellis on the hard drive (a folder labeled TB Ellis Papers). I think he may have been on Team Primrose, or he was affiliated with them the same as Jenner. That’s my bit of speculation on that…

There’s a conversation at the dinner table in which Amanda talks about what happened to Arnaud and Arnaud’s father. They went beyond the walls, and her husband did not come back. Arnaud came back with a huge, hook-shaped scar on his throat. It looks like a clear knife wound, so whoever killed his father, it was probably people or caused by people, not walkers. During the conversation, Arnaud says, “Scar’s worse than the wound,” to which Davon replies, “Truer words,” as if he knows exactly what he’s talking about. This reminded me of Daryl’s scar, which we know nothing about, and about metaphorical scars, and the episode Scars, which is about abducted children.

Also something I noticed this time around is that Garen is absent from the flashbacks until the end. Or like, he’s peaking around the edges of Davon’s memory but mostly blocked. Like, we don’t even understand that Nora has a son until the mystery is nearly solved. But Davon must have known Garen if he was spending that much time with Nora. This is evidence for repression, or memory blocks, ie: sometimes when we are working through a trauma, the mind will repress certain information to protect itself from further trauma. But this sends the mind into a feedback loop in which the trauma is continuously relived, because it’s in search of the answer. This reminded me of Daryl and Beth as well, as well as Siddiq.

Story and Clark is the brand of the piano that they play on. Story and Clark originated in Grand Rapids, Michigan and then moved to Seneca, Pennsylvania. Something interesting is that Slingerland, the drums manufacturer that’s referenced in a folder in the WB Coda, was also hubbed in Michigan. Kalamazoo. In Evie/Joe, they are road tripping through Ohio to get to Michigan. I couldn’t remember if there were more Michigan references, but there’s something going on in Michigan. Seneca, PA is an extremely small town, like 300 people, in NE Pennsylvania, not far from the Ohio border. A lot of concentration in this part of the country for Tales.

Also when they play the piano, I’m sure we took note of the yellow “Beth” flowers in the background. I couldn’t remember if we talked about the intensity of their reflections here in this shot, on the surface of the piano, like a glimpse into a mirror universe, or the implication that this story is, itself, a “reflection.”

In the next flashback, they’re talking about where they are and Davon’s motivations and where he was going. This part is very important. Amanda is telling him about Madawaska, and how most people don’t realize they’re in America when they’re there. She says, “This was our land until the British decided it wasn’t.” Davon says, “Yeah that sounds familiar.”

Oh, does it? What is he referring to? He makes a couple comments here that sounds like he may know something about CRM colonization.

In the same conversation, Nora asks if he was headed to Montreal. He nods very subtly but does not elaborate. We know from earlier that Davon speaks “the basics” of French because he “knew someone” who spoke it. I think he’s referring to a girlfriend, who is pictured in the photograph, on the far right, wearing the McGill sweatshirt.

I think this picture was taken with care. It looks like Davon with his family and his girlfriend at his college graduation. She has significantly lighter skin than the rest of them. She is still wearing her McGill sweatshirt, and not in her graduation gown, probably because she’s younger and was still in university when he graduated. It’s speculation, but I think Davon is American.

I think he probably went to McGill as an International Student. He met his girlfriend there, who was French-Canadian and spoke French. When the outbreak hit, he was not in Montreal. He was either visiting home or working in a laboratory somewhere in the eastern US. I would speculate that Davon was either enlisted to work for some CRM research project (re: the PPP card) before, during, or after the outbreak, and he was detained there for a long time.

At some point, however, whatever work he was doing had to be interrupted, or he escaped, and he is now trying to make his way back to Montreal to try and find his girlfriend. The only thing is, Madawaska’s location. It’s so bizarre. It’s way, way out on the northern tip of Maine. This is why I think Davon may have arrived by boat, either up the eastern coast of the US, or having come over from Europe.

There is another line, a little later, that draws me to believe that Davon is traveling to Montreal to search for his girlfriend. They’re talking about why you would save somebody’s life, even if it puts your own at risk. Davon says that in order to ethically save yourself, you need to ensure that your life is worth saving. Nora says, “What’s in Montreal that would make your life worth saving?” There’s then a quick impressionistic flash to the picture.

This spoke to me. I believe that Davon is trying to get to his girlfriend in Montreal, but then he meets Nora, who lures him in with romance, and then she betrays him. This is similar to Daryl’s search for Rick, on the river, and what happens with Leah. Leah is temptation, like the Sirens in the Odyssey. But also, it’s a bit off, in that comparison, because Davon seems to be clearly searching for his girlfried. Is it foreshadowing for what will happen with Daryl in France? The discussion about whether or not Isabelle could “tempt” Daryl is interesting in this sense.

Also, if Davon is searching for his girlfriend, the suggestion would be that it’s been many years.

There’s been a lot of parallels with Daryl and Davon, even their names look symilar. The fact that Davon could be going to Montreal to search for his long lost girlfriend is very interesting.

Two other instances, in which it seems like Davon is privy to some form of civilation post-apocalypse. The first is when they’re talking about the British takeover. Amanda is not optimistic. She has a very primitive view of survival of the fittest, ie: some people deserve to die, some people cannot be saved, sometimes murder is mercy.

Davon has a different worldview. Like, crime and punishment, trial and justice. He says, “We can still have rules. I mean, laws work most of the time. Usually it’s just the people who make them that don’t.” This could suggest he is currently rebelling against “those who make [the laws].”

Maybe he was doing CRM research and realized there was something unethical going on and escaped. Davon seems like an extremely moral person, but like he’s only just now learning to be strong. Probably he’s been living in safety for a long time. The other thing that makes me think about Davon’s connection to civilization and the CRM is his final line: “There’s still life out there. There’s still hope. You will see. If you let yourselves.” I don’t know that he’s talking about the CRM, per se, but perhaps a rebel faction, or the people inside the CRM, like Leo and Dr. Ellis, who are doing real work to find a cure.

There are also tons of RX pills in this episode. I noticed this last time, but it’s very clear now that they either raided a pharmacy early on or have some sort of supply line. Davon pops pain pills when he gets back to Amanda’s and there are pill bottles in the basement. I think I said once I think the sweet honey or syrup that Arnaud feeds the children is laced with some sort of narcotic, like oxycodone, which makes them sleep, and eventually he ODs them.

Other similarities to Daryl. When Davon gives Nora the strawberry, he is wearing a black vest. The blood stains on his bandaid resemble angel wings.

Lasting questions I have are: I still don’t understad what the acid is that kills Amanda, why it’s there. It’s green, which makes it look like a chlorine bleach mixture. But it’s much to corrosive to be simple bleach, and you wouldn’t just leave something like that lying around? I wondered if maybe they were going to use it to disolve the bodies.

Also, the excavator. I mean, what? How do they have an excavator. How do they have the fuel required to power an excavator? The strawberry that Davon gives to Nora is also extremely gigantic, like a fancy GMO strawberry. This is super different from the strawberry Daryl finds, which is very small, normal like a wild strawberry. Ofc it could just be nothing. But you never know.

That’s my notes! It’s clear to me that there is something extremely weird going on here and that it is related to Daryl.

Oh also, the strawberry, its shape. It’s got like a twinning effect going on, like two strawberries fused together, growing from the same stem.

I was also trying to imagine if it could be significant that he is wearing a child’s glasses? They’re a little too small for him. This seems pointed. I was wondering if you guys had any thoughts on this. Like, he’s naive? Idk.

@wdway

Great job on your rewatch review. I do think that as we learn more about Daryl's storyline things in this episode will become clearer. I think the PPP card stands out as a hinted that this isn't just a one watch and it's done episode. The other day I caught one of the last episodes of s2 TWB on AMC+ all TWD channel and when I saw Elton's girl friends vest with the double red V on it I immediately thought of the graduation picture in Tales Davon episode. TWB episode where the maple leaf falls from the sky.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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hospitalterrorizer · 6 months

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diary65

11/15-16/2023

wednesday - thursday

it's so quiet right now.

i showered just now, or like, at 11, and i've gotten out an hour ago maybe, 1 hour, 30 mins, maybe, i dunno. i had to do the rest of my working out in the bathroom tonight which meant no hip thrusts but i did bring my phone into the bathroom and that made me look at all my old pics after using it as a timer. it made me cry a little, seeing all that. the fan is off and it's so quiet. it's so weird. i can hear myself breathe, the apartments around us are creaking. i hear my keys. it's a long time since i've reckoned with silence like this. then after looking at all the old pics i took pics of myself thinking if i could get a photo of myself, a mirror selfie, where i get myself as front on as possible, with as many features exposed i guess, to try and understand what i look like. to see if i could compare it to the bad picture of me, and see if that one is lying to me or something. but i don't know. i don't know why i look better in the mirror, does that mean i look better in other human eyes too, or is it only because i am seeing myself at eye level. is eye level always flattering? i can't tell. i don't know. i don't want answers from the internet because they're always crushing. it feels intentional. people on quora and body dysmorphia forums want you to feel terrible so you have to stay near them, it feels like. i guess saying things are really as bad as you imagine, and every detail you've invented is actually real, is a good way to keep yourself from being lonely.

anyway, i don't want to keep imagining what angle produced my fucked up face in picture v. why my face seems (in my eyes from my skull from my brain and eye spacing and all the seconds and whatever making the perception add up to "a face" (can you tell i really feel insane because of this)) okay. i am tired, it is late.

today i recorded vocals and it felt good, and i exported 2 of the songs i redid vocals on, and i do like the vocals a lot more. one needs them to be quieter, the other needs them a touch louder + brighter. anyway, i need to get the mixing re-done on the third. tomorrow i will do that. honest. i think i said so already but this freakout is at least productive for writing.

youtube

i am unpleasantly sick in my stupid head. this song makes it feel better. i like how the song turns kind of evil at this speed. when they play it slow, it's scared, when it's fast it's evil. there's something so meaningful in that, something about fear turning to cynical abandon, crashing your car, jumping into the street, off buildings, your body reduced to something you are performing velocity functions on to see how far it could go or whatever. being freaked out makes that happen. somehow that's cool. i guess it's the abandon part. something about 'abandon' and the abandoned right beside eachother, infinite growth and overfed expectations + excitement into total failure, dead office buildings are a kind of manifestation of the death drive, right. don't mind me i'm just free associating, feeling bad makes that always seem more important than it actually is. that's how mark fisher got to be anything. he was so depressed he didn't realize he wasn't really that bright. i don't want to be mark fisher. he's not too stupid either. i just don't want to ever be as obvious as he was. it would wound me to be that obvious. i figure, though, everyone thinks i am, just like everyone thinks that's me in that picture, and it is but it isn't, and maybe i am but not like that. maybe not at all. i refuse it, that isn't me, and i can make myself not that obvious, right? now i'm just pleading with god or something. it's all nonsense anyways, mindvomit. tomorrow i promise to be more lucid, i promise to be happier and maybe i'll be prettier too. my selfies were good, i think. that's the scary part. in the mirror, i reached a point where i though, i look okay. but then it felt wrong again. i can't tell. i saw myself a little bit just now, i couldn't tell, was it okay, was i ugly, i didn't linger, i couldn't. why is this so overpowering for me. it's eating all my head, it's really bleach on a pattern, splash and then blankness forever. i need mouthwash. i am going to see myself again. i'll report back and say what i saw. it's like blair witch.

maybe i've come closer to understanding if something went wrong, or not. i can't tell though. i can't tell if i'm blind to my jaw, or if i see it too harshly. it looks okay, i think, when i relax in front of the mirror more.

i started crying, i think i see myself, right now, or i hope, i don't know, i'm treating my face like mars, i'm also the probe. anyway i started crying, i don't know, there were more thoughts, i can't keep doing this to myself but i feel like that really isn't my face but i'm too tense or i keep moving things around weird or something. i dunno. i can't tell. it's 4 am now. yay so fun i love being crazy lol.

anyway:

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#Youtube

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fahrni · 11 months

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

We’ve been home for a week now and it’s been really nice to sleep in our own bed!

Now, if we could get Cocoa to sleep past 5:30AM I’d be thrilled. 😃

I hope you have a nice cup of coffee or tea ready and I hope you enjoy the links.

CNN

Wagner chief Yevgeny Prigozhin has refused to surrender, and called Vladimir Putin “deeply mistaken” following the Russian president’s address describing his actions as betrayal.

I heard about this as I was crawling in bed. I hope the Wagner Group is able to destabilize Putin and end the war in Ukraine.

Probably too much to hope for. 🙁

iamthatis • Reddit

I wanted to address Reddit’s continued, provably false statements, as well as answer some questions from the community, and also just say thanks.

I love this openness from Christian Selig. If folks don’t know, Christian tapes his conversations with Reddit folks. It’s been very interesting to read bit the transcript he’s shared. It’s clear they have lied.

I just wish Christian had posted this all to a weblog so it would have a more permanent home. Who knows what’s going to happen with his subreddit.

Platformer

After a bruising week of protests and locked-down forums, things started to get back to normal Tuesday on Reddit, as — oh wait, what’s this?

Subreddit moderators are doing all they can to screw things up on Reddit. I applaud their effort.

Polygon

If you want to watch pop culture eat itself, go see The Flash, a movie that starts out as a sprightly superhero adventure, then dissolves into a self-referential requiem for the DC Universe.

I’m torn about seeing this movie given all the hubbub surrounding Ezra Miller but I really want to see Michael Keatons older Batman!

Trisha Gee

These days, distributed version control systems like Git have “won the war” of version control. One of the arguments I used to hear when DVCSs were gaining traction was around how easy it is to branch and merge with a VCS like Git. However, I’m a big fan of Trunk-Based Development (TBD), and I want to tell you why.

I’d imagine most folks I work with today have no clue how we used to work. I didn’t use git for version control full time until around 2014 I’d imagine? I found it terribly frustrating to work with at first but know I’m fine with it.

Anywho, up until 2014 I’d worked with so many different version control systems. I’d imagine I worked with CVS the longest and we had one main branch — trunk — and everyone committed directly to it. Yes, breaking the build was definitely frowned upon so you had to be very careful about your commits!

LA Weekly

When North Carolina Gov. Patrick McCrory signed House Bill 2 into law, I wonder if he was thinking long-range about what the result might be. I can’t see him and his staff wondering out loud if their thick-skulled, cracker logic might result in Bruce Springsteen not only canceling his upcoming show in Greensboro, depriving the state of revenue and its residents of a Springsteen concert, but inspiring Mr. Boss to issue a press release that more people have read than will ever peruse House Bill 2.

Henry Rollins seems to be a really great dude. Part punk, part philosopher, always interesting to listen to or read.

The Guardian

Seven years after the Brexit referendum, the proportion of Britons who want to rejoin the EU has climbed to its highest levels since 2016, according to a new survey.

I mean, duh! The British version of MAGA didn’t work out so well. It’s been terrible for so many. I hope they rejoin the EU.

Hendrick Motorsports

The NASCAR Next Gen Garage 56 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 was a hit from day one in Le Mans, among fans, media and even other competitors. And it was fast on track, consistently putting down lap times that bettered cars in the GT class. The car ran near the top of the GT field for more than 20 hours until a drive line issue sidelined the team for more than an hour. Overall, the car was running at the finish, completed 285 laps on the 8.4-mile circuit and finished 39th in the 62-car field.

This car is an absolute beast and looked out of place at Le Mans. It would also look out of place on a NASCAR track. It is a beautiful car with some really excellent engineering. Oh, yeah, and it is super fast! Good old American V8 horsepower under the hood.

I kind of wish I’d been more of a car guy when I was younger. My Dad certainly is and has built some beautiful cars in his time. His ‘37 Chevy Coup Street Rod is stunning and he used to drag race a 454 powered ‘51 Anglia.

I had the opportunity to learn a lot but didn’t. If I could do it today I’d love to be a mechanic or engineer for a NASCAR, IndyCar, or F1 team. I’d love to specialize in engines. I do find them fascinating and would love to rebuild one again. I rebuilt a Chevy small block in High School my senior year. Yeah, I took auto shop because I wanted to do something “easy.” 😃

Cadillac Racing

After 21 years, Cadillac Racing marked our return to the iconic 24 Hours of Le Mans on June 10—11 with our highest finish ever in front of a record audience of 325,000 spectators. Our No. 2 V-Series.R led laps for the first time in Cadillac history and finished on the podium in 3rd, with the No. 3 just behind in 4th, and the No. 311 fighting back for 10th in class.

There’s an article on Jalopnik that includes a video of one of these cars doing a bump start and it sounds mean. It instantly made me think of the Batmobile for some reason.

Now, let’s get more American manufacturers back in NASCAR. Cadillac would be a super interesting entry! I think Dodge is an obvious entry for NASCAR Cup, Xfinity, and Truck series given their history of legendary cars like the Challenger and their RAM trucks.

Cadillac would be super cool to see in NASCAR Cup racing but it may be too lowbrow for them? 🤣

Traveler Dreams

Renting an RV and embarking on a road trip across America can seem like more of a fantasy trip than a real thing you actually do. But you can truly make it a reality. And if you do, it can turn into a thrilling and liberating experience that will leave you with unforgettable memories. Here’s why you should take the plunge.

This is something I dream about all the time but I can’t quite get Kim convinced we need to sell everything and go all in on the RV lifestyle.

As a compromise we’d like to acquire a smaller RV and do some two week to one month excursions to see if we like it. It would also be great for week long camping trips with the entire family.

Maybe someday it’ll be a reality? 🤞🏼

Business Insider

When former NBC Universal executive Linda Yaccarino was named Twitter’s next CEO last month, advertisers breathed a sigh of relief.

I don’t expect Ms. Yaccarino to last very long at Twitter. I think my original quesstimate was six months but I could see it lasting as long as a year.

Musk is too much of a control freak. The kind of boss I’d hate working for.

The best piece of advice I ever got from my VP of Engineering and CTO at Pelco was “You have to convince people your vision is the right way to go so they follow. You won’t get their best work if you’re a tyrant.” It was something like that. Basically be a leader, not a bully.

Teri Kanefield

This blog post is meant to be read in order. Later answers are shorter because they rely on the information presented in the earlier answers.

This is a really nice piece if you’re following along with the TFG Top Secret documents prosecution. Dude is such a knucklehead and honestly believes he has magical powers to declassify things with his mind. Dumbass.

The New York Times

The engineers reminded him of their commutes. The working parents reminded him of school pickup times. Mr. Medina replied with arguments he has delineated so often that they have come to feel like personal mantras: Being near each other makes the work better. Mr. Medina approached three years of mushy remote-plus-office work as an experiment. His takeaway was that ideas bubble up more organically in the clamor of the office.

I believe with all my heart CEO’s like this are real control freaks and must have the adoration of their people surrounding them at all times. I can have these ah-ha moments, Slack someone, and fire up a zoom call to have the same conversations. It’s just not face to face in a building I have to commute to.

If our company demanded everyone come to the office, of course I’d comply, but I really don’t believe it’s necessary.

Just my horrible opinion.

Assigned Media

A federal court heard both sides during a trial where trans youth, their parents, and their doctors challenged a law banning gender affirming care in Arkansas. The court found that the law violated the right to due process and to equal treatment under the constitution, and ordered the law struck down because Arkansas failed to demonstrate a compelling state interest justifying the unequal treatment.

We really need the courts to continue overturning these idiotic and dangerous laws.

You cannot force people to be someone they are not and denying them healthcare because they’re different than you is barbaric.

Apparently Meta’s Project 92 is going to federate with a limited set of Mastodon instances, pay them, and allow them to display Meta ads in exchange for a cut.

Embrace and extend. Amirite?

Let’s see how this plays out.

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