Tumgik
#and can focus on my site in my spare time again
Text
Hi, everyone!
In all the Grammys downpour of content (it's RAINING Bo, Hallelujah! ☔️), I forgot to promote my newest article (and the first one of the year...yes, I'm very slow haha)—
All of the EASTER EGGS in Bo Burnham's masterpiece! 👀
Tumblr media
As I say in my introduction for the piece, I've had this idea rattling around in my brain for years now, so I finally wrote out everything I could find:
Whiteboard gags
Tumblr media
YouTube conventions in The Inside Outtakes
Tumblr media
Misspelled words (on purpose, perhaps?)
Tumblr media
And to finish it off, I've created a playlist on Amazon Music of Bo's songs based on the complete whiteboard outline in the Outtakes.
Enjoy the new article, and keep it here for more comedy fun! ✌🏼🐔
10 notes · View notes
superhoeva · 4 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄
Tumblr media
next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist
⬩ pairing(s) sexologist!francisco "frankie" morales x college student!female!reader
⬩ warning(s) very inaccurate scientific study methods (this could not happen in real life without someone going to jail, i think lol), language, flirting, sexual tension, scientific talk about genitals, safe sex practices, pcos (mentioned), endometriosis (mentioned), commentary on unbalanced male domination of sexual spaces, Spanish nicknames/pet names, smut smut smut, somewhat-guided masturbation, reader hs nipple pircings, dirty talk, mdom-ish!frankie, pussy drunk!frankie, consent checks, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), big hands!frankie, bodily fluids, doctor/patient relations, the whole "we want to but we can't but we might have to anyways" kind of vibes, some aftercare, pov switches (reader's pov uses "dr. morales. frankie's pov uses "frankie.")
⬩ author's note happy new year! starting 2024 off with a bang (literally, ha) of a new series. as mentioned before, this was inspired by an audio series created by anonyfun35 on the erotic audio site quinn (very much recommend the series and entire site if you're looking for more ethical alternatives to regular porn and able to spare a few extra dollars!), which is absolutely heavenly. frankie's been sitting in my heart recently after rewatching triple frontier, and now here we are! here is chapter one, as promised, and i can not wait to share the rest of this series with you all! (p.s. i know some people have asked to be tagged in this, but i no longer do tag lists. for those who want to keep up with new chapter, i'd recommend following the au: the study tag or just check back here regularly! heeds the warnings. let me know if i've forgotten any. drink your water. love you and hope you enjoy. <3
⬩ word count 6.4k(!)
Tumblr media
The lobby is suspiciously comfortable for a doctor’s office. As if the chair you’ve been shuffling back and forth in for the past five minutes. You’ve decided to focus on the mint green tint of the walls to steady yourself. Your breath moves in and out of you in quivering streams, and you have to keep running your tongue over the flesh of your bottom lip to stop your teeth from drawing blood.
A sweet-looking brunette types away at the lobby desk, and she sends you a quick smile when you accidentally catch her eye. You hope the grin you send back doesn’t look as pitiful as it felt.
Straight across from you, there’s a poster of a vagina. Vibrant and contrasting nicely with the color of the wall, it labels each part of the genitalia with pretty, curvy letters. You read over each of them, laughing a little when you get to the clitoris. Maybe you should hang a copy of the poster over your headboard. Just to make it a little easier for those who need it.
Your eyes trail left. Another poster, this one with photos of different types of barrier methods for safe sex; on it is everything from internal condoms to dental dams and a short explanation for when it’s best to use them. You study it with a little more intent than the last one and become so engrossed that you don’t hear the receptionist at the desk until her third calling of your name.
You jolt a little, looking over at her with widened eyes.
“Sorry, yes?”
She smiles at the look on your face, shaking her head.
“It’s alright,” she promises, “that stuff’s actually pretty interesting, right? I just wanted to tell you that Dr. Morales is ready to start whenever you are.”
Ignoring the way your heart jumps a little, you rise from your seat with the best grin you can manage.
“Alright,” you nod, gaze flickering down a nearby hallway, “is it–”
“All the way down and to the right. Can’t miss it. And feel free to let me know if you need anything, before or after. I’m here for whatever you need me for.”
There’s something genuine in her voice that lets your shoulders relax. You smile again, and it feels real this time. “I think I’m okay right now, but I appreciate it, I do. Thank you.”
“No worries. Oh, and honey,” she pauses, taking a second to leave her seat and trot over in front of you. “Remember to breathe. Dr. Morales is a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t work here if that wasn’t the case.”
Melanie the tag on her name reads. She gives you one last wink before returning to her desk. A warm feeling fills you nicely as you watch her for a few more seconds. 
Melanie is nice. You like Melanie. If you could, you’d stay and talk to her for a while, but no sense in keeping the doctor waiting.
As you head down the hallway, the walk feels like it lasts half a second and a thousand years all at once. Time here seems to work a little differently, but maybe that’s only because of how unbelievably fucking nervous you are.
The room is at the end of the hall on the right. Just like Melanie said. The knock you give the door is softer than you mean for it to be, but it pulls open before you get the chance to knock again.
“Hi, welcome. Come on in, please.”
Well, fuck. Fuck.
The first thing you notice isn’t the fluff of hair on his head, or his big, doe, brown eyes–it’s his voice. A deep, pleasing rasp that’s soft and stirring, all of it combining into a sensation that sits snugly right in the middle of your chest. And legs.
You take a second to swallow the spit in your mouth.
“Hi,” you all but mumble back, swallowing again. God, you hope he doesn’t hear the sharp exhale that leaves your nose when he steps to the side with a smile. Your eyes blow up, big and wide, but only for a second as you swiftly compose yourself. You’re here for a scientific study, damn it, not to gape at how fucking gorgeous Dr. Morales is. Even though he is fucking gorgeous. “You’re Dr. Morales?”
“Yes,” he answers effortlessly, and you bite your tongue when he rattles off your name. His voice. You barely remember to nod, and he smiles. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he opened the door, and it’s already building a bit of sweat at the back of your neck. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Been seeing your name on all the paperwork, so it’s nice to put a face to it. Especially a face as nice as yours.”
You swallow, again, and can’t hold back the grin his words bring. “Thank you and uh… likewise.”
Dr. Morales pauses and your heart stops at the way his face drops. Then his eyebrows raise slightly like he’s impressed, and he takes in a long breath himself. A gulp of air finally refills your lungs when his smile returns, more of a smirk now.
“Thank you.”
The two words are followed by a small silence. You take it as a chance to look around. Dr. Morales takes it as a chance to glance you over, and his teeth bite into the side of his mouth at the dress you’re wearing. It’s airy and short, stopping just above the middle of your thigh.
He sniffs, clearing his throat.
“Well, if you want to go ahead and get seated, I think it’s best we just start with some introductions to break some ice. Then a short discussion about the study itself, boundaries, things like that. And I know you answered a lot of those types of questions in your application, but I think more authentic answers can come about when speaking, you know, face-to-face. Plus it’ll give us both the chance to get to know each other a little better. Relax before we get to the actual… activities for today’s session.”
You blink.
“You’re doing the… the stuff?”
Dr. Morales blinks.
“Yes,” he starts slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, was that not what you were expecting? I-It’s in the forms you signed, though I guess it is pretty easy to glance over if you don’t know where to look. But if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, I completely understand. We also have some female doctors participating in the study if you–”
“–I’m comfortable with you doing it.” God, you know interrupting was rude. But the words spill out of you before you can stop them. “Really, I’m okay with it. Just surprised me a little, considering…”
A hard clenching of your teeth doesn’t work to hold back the small grin that sneaks upon your face at the expression on Dr. Morales’s face. He’s gone from warm to faltering and back to warm again, with a hint of delight just in the past few moments. 
“Considering what?”
Dr. Morales squints his eyes as he asks the question. Watching and waiting for your answer with the knuckles of his fingers rubbing across his pink lips. You only let your gaze trail across the action for a short second. Any longer, and you’re sure you’ll melt away.
“Nothing,” you finally breathe with a soft laugh. The muscles in your neck tense and pull as you force your eyes upwards. Back to his eyes. “Sorry, uh… introductions?”
Something in his gaze shifts and he drops his hand.
“Right, right. Uh, feel free to take a seat here while I pull up your file real quick,” Dr. Morales tells you, motioning to the deep red chaise wing chair you didn’t notice until now. You nod, not trusting your voice, and settle into the large chair. It’s even more comfortable than the one in the lobby, and Dr. Morales just barely keeps his smile at how you subconsciously snuggle into the plush.
Other than the blood rushing past your ears, the clacking of his fast typing is the only sound in the room.
Much like the lobby, the room is rather warm for where you are, literally and figuratively. It’s a kind difference from something like the dentist or your normal practitioner. The opposite of the bright, sterile white you’d expected. You can tell the room was put together with the intention of being congenial for whoever steps inside. The velvet couch and nice rug that decorate the space tell you that much.
It seems that Dr. Morales dresses with the same purpose, white coat hanging forgotten on the back of his swivel chair, showing off the taupe button-up that stretches over his impressive set of shoulders. The shirt is tucked into a pair of thick, clean-cut jeans that hug around his waist.
“Alright,” Dr. Morales begins, sliding his chair over a few feet so you can see him a bit better. He smiles as he continues, reading off your name and age, to which you nod and smile back. You make sure the grin is big enough to cover the shiver that runs throughout your body and you don't notice that he didn’t even have to look at the screen when reciting the words.
“Great. Well, as I already told you, I’m Francisco Morales,” he chuckles, “one of the doctors here participating in this study you’ve so kindly agreed to be a part of. We’re really excited about all the knowledge we’re expecting to gain from the study. I, uh, we–we really appreciate you being here.”
“Oh, thank you for the opportunity. I’m also really excited. Never been involved in something like this before, so… yeah. I’m excited.”
Huh. Excited is one of the few words able to come to your mind as you bumble through the sentence. After only a few minutes with the doctor, you’ve found it’s somewhat difficult to form a coherent enough sentence. It’s even harder with him staring at you.
“What made you want to participate, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Um,” you start without thinking, “part of it was the topic of the study itself, I guess. So many of the things that have to do with sex, at least in my experience, are centered around men and their pleasure and what makes them feel good. So I think it’s refreshing to see something like this.”
“Oh, absolutely. That’s the whole reason for us doing this. I mean, we’ve got gynecologists, hormone specialists, endocrinologists, gender surgeons, and even sex therapists on my team all working together on this.”
“Oh, wow. That’s actually… really impressive,” you breathe out, but Dr. Morales shakes his head.
“It is, but I don’t wanna take all the credit. We’ve got a lot of amazing people working on this thing that’s gonna lead to ways to help women suffering from endometriosis, PCOS, trans women, everyone, really.”
Your eyes soften at the doctor’s words, and you straighten a little.
“Well, now I’m very happy to be here.”
Dr. Morales’s eyes squint with his smile this time. It’s the biggest he’s smiled all week.
“Good. I’m glad. And you’ve already filled out all the financial paperwork? Wanna make sure you get paid for this week’s session as soon as possible.”
“Oh, yeah. That was actually the other reason I signed up. Got some student loan payments coming up, and I could use the extra money.”
Dr. Morales laughs to himself.
“Loan payments are a bitch, aren’t they? Still paying mine off,” He shakes his head. Something about his curse pulls a small chuckle from you.
“Never heard a doctor curse before,” you tell him, and he laughs this time, raising his eyebrows with a shrug.
“Sorry. I’ll try to keep it at bay, but I should warn you… I can have a pretty dirty mouth.”
Whether he knows it or not, Dr. Morales’s voice seems to drop an octave as he speaks. The words are paired with his gaze clouding to something similar to a stirring ardor. It shakes something inside you, rumbling into the depths of your veins, heating you in a way that feels remarkable. In a way that has you clenching and reeling, eyes just barely watering.
He hasn’t even touched you yet, and he’s got you evaporating into a transcendent air of nothing. You brush your hands along the fabric of the skirt of your dress, arms stretching and trying to find some sense of relief. Dr. Morales stares into you, a burning observance of an action that your subconscious therefore controls more than anything. The look is hot and pointed and forces him to take in a long inhale. He squeezes the thin arm of his chair when you finally grant him a soft reply.
“I don’t mind.”
Dr. Morales pauses before letting out a huff. A smirk teases across his lips, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something. He stops just short of whatever it is, opting to roll his seat a little closer to you while clearing his throat.
His elbows hit the top of his knees, gaze tilting to yours. Unable to hold it, you try to settle for his hands, but that doesn’t seem to calm you at all. You flick your eyes again, this time onto his thighs, but it’s no use.
Damn it.
“Um, so today’s session will revolve around cunnilingus and a some hand stimulation. Uh… sorry. Sorry, I–” Dr. Morales stumbles to a stop and your eyebrows furrow.
“You okay?”
He holds a hand out at the look on your face with a quick nod.
“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. Where was I? Uh… right, so like we talked about a little bit ago, I’ll be the one performing the… stuff, as you called it. And speaking of that, you’re still one hundred percent comfortable with me being to one to do it?” 
“Hundred and ten,” you promise with a bobbing of your head that makes him grin again.
“Okay, then,” he nods back, hands rubbing against the denim of his jeans. “Let’s get started.”
.・゜゜・
You’re going to be the death of him.
He had an inkling of it when you greeted him at the door, those eyes all wide as you took everything in. He was confident about it when you assured him that you’d be alright with the fact that he’d be the one ‘doing the stuff.’ He knew when you didn’t mind his dirty mouth. And he was certain when you'd asked if he was alright.
Dead. That’s what you’ll make him by the end of this study, and he’ll go happy. A little embarrassed also, given how he started sputtering through his sentences like he was twenty years younger.
Frankie’s breath catches a little when he returns to the room after washing his hands. You’re just finishing the tie on the robe he’d provided you with, and he doesn’t realize how flimsy it is until now. It maps across your shape damn near perfectly as you hang your dress on the side of the wingchair.
“Hi,” you breathe out, spinning around. Frankie rakes his teeth over his bottom row of teeth hard.
“Hi,” he blinks back, making sure to brighten his face with a small smile. “Ready?”
You shakily hum your answer, smoothing down your robe to busy your hands. It’s made of silk and feels incredible, but boy is it small. Just barely covering the cheeks of your ass, you might as well be wearing nothing.
“Alright. So, before I forget, let me go ahead and get a swab of the inside of your cheek, just so we have that on record.”
Frankie grabs a long cotton swab and its transport tube off his desk, stepping over to where you stand waiting. He swallows, ordering you to softly open. You obey with no questions asked, dropping your jaws.
Did you mean to stick out your tongue, too? Frankie has no idea, but whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care, not with the rustle he feels in his middle.
“Thank you,” he replies after a few scrubs of your mouth, eyes catching yours briefly before sticking the swab in the tube and placing it back onto his desk. He huffs, turning back around to you. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch.”
Frankie holds out his hand for you to take without thinking. The regret that runs through him slips away as you place your hand into his grip and let him lead you. His other hand reaches for his chair, rolling it over as he walks with you.
He rubs a gentle thumb on the back of your palm as you sit, hand squeezing into a fist when yours drops from his. Frankie sits in his chair with a grunt, planting his feet on the group, making sure to face you.
The man softens a little at the sight of you, all bunched up into a ball of returned nerves, and he thinks for a moment.
“How about we start with a deep breath, yeah? Relax a little bit before we do anything else?”
You nod and Frankie’s head goes a bit fuzzy for a short moment. You’re so sweet, with your tiny robe and all your nods, like candy. You breathe in deep, just like he says to. Your chest rises with it, and Frankie almost forgets to take in the breath as well.
“Good. Now, how we go from here is up to you,” Frankie starts, hands folding together politely. “Robe can stay on, or you can take it off. Your decision–”
“Robe off,” you speak before he’s finished. He holds back a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m okay with it off if you are.”
Of course, you are. Of course, you are, and so is he.
“That’s absolutely okay with me. As long as you’re comfortable,” he states, and your fingers go to pull at the tie. He shuffles, waiting, and swallows when you pause.”
“Um, is my bra being off okay? I took it off with my dress, didn’t even think about it until now.”
Frankie’s head pivots back to the wine-colored chair. And so you did. There’s more lace than he expects, causing him to stare longer than he means. He turns back to you with his eyes darker than before.
“That’s perfectly fine.”
You nod again, fuck, and finally pull the ties. His heart nearly stops as the silk slips down your shoulder, exposing your naked skin to him, inch by inch.
God, you’re devastating. You devastate him, and he’s going to die a happy, happy man. It’s inappropriate, he knows that, but fuck. Yes, he’s a doctor, but he’s also a man with blood pumping through his veins and down into his cock, which he’s currently shielding with a subtle cupping of his hand.
Your robe continues to fall, and soon enough, nearly all of you is revealed to him. His eyes, working with a mind of their own, fall upon your breasts.
Of course.
“Wow,” is all he says, and the corners of your mouth pull upwards. You peek down, the tips of your barbell piercings shining with every one of your shaky inhales. “Wow, uh… wow.”
“Oh, these. Yeah, I got them a few years ago,” you reveal, setting the robe to the side. “Hurt like hell, but it was worth it.”
“While I definitely agree, I was talking about your… everything. You’re gorgeous, querida.”
Querida. The name is unexpected, yet received by you with dilating pupils. It’s not just the way he says it but the way he says it. You can tell that he means it, every letter. Every syllable, as it falls off his tongue, into your ears, and down to just inside the thin layer of your panties.
It’s the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you’re certain they’re soaked. You can feel yourself seeping through, needing for something to happen. Anything, or you’ll die.
“Thank you,” you murmur back, impatience inching you closer and closer. To what, you don’t know, but you think it’s something special. “Should I go ahead and…?”
Dr. Morales’s gaze oozes down you where you’re slowly parting your legs. It takes him a second to answer.
“Uh,” he interrupts himself with a short laugh, “actually I was going to have you do something else for me first. When you’re, you know, in the act of pleasuring yourself, how do you usually start? Do you… do you dive right in or is there some kind of build-up?”
Legs having paused, you blink. It’s almost impossible to formulate an answer, but somehow you manage.
“Normally, I’d play with my nipples.” God, it sounds so silly when you say it out loud. “Tease myself for a little bit until I’m ready to start.”
The doctor sits back in his seat, still covering his growing member.
“Why don’t you go ahead and do a little bit of that for me?”
There’s that thing again. With his voice, the thing that is causing your organs to convulse and squeeze. Has you scooting a little further back onto the couch with ease and a deep breath.
You hear Dr. Morales suck in one of his own as your legs spread a little further, revealing a large wet splotch in the very middle of your panties. It’s seeped a little into the couch, and you’re not even embarrassed. Your legs more because you want him to see it. You need him to.
A flinch jerks you when the tips of your fingers meet the buds of your breast. You twist and pull, and it feels good. Better than normal with the beautiful doctor watching you do it. They start to pebble around the metal and a few shocks through you.
Leaving your lips is a gasp. Soft and nearly nothing, but it tugs something from Dr. Morales.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
When you gasp again, he bites his lip.
“You like that? You like it when I say that?”
You nod.
“Words, querida.” No matter how much he likes the nod.
“Yes, I like it when you say that.”
“When I say what?”
You hear him chuckle at the small groan you release.
“A good girl.”
Your voice is even smaller now, hoarse with want.
“Good girl.” Another groan from you. “Now, I need you to move a little further down, okay? Slip those pretty panties off for me.”
Your turn.
“You really like them?”
Dr. Morales’s throat bobs at your question you ask while dragging your hand lower. They glide across your stomach to rest just over your center. Pushing onto your clit, your moan is muffled by the way your teeth catch the soft flesh of your lip.
“I do, muñeca,” he assures you. “I really do. They’re almost as pretty as you are.”
You can’t help the full grin that sneaks onto your face. You push against yourself a little harder, and your head falls to the back of the couch. Fingers hooking under the seam, you tug.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion at this moment. You raise your head back up, just to catch the reaction from the doctor, who’s already gazing into your pussy when your eyes refocus. His breathing changes from long, calming inhales, to unsteady suspires.
“Jesus,” he grits out just under his breath when you eventually throw your panties alongside the robe and fully open yourself to him. Clenching around nothing, you relax further into the couch, legs propped and feet settled against the velvet.
Your huffs push out hot when Dr. Morales finally lifts from his seat. You don’t dare look away as he steps forward, towering over you. He bends at the waist, face lowering near your own. He gets so close that, for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you. Press his pouting lips into yours like you so badly want him to.
His breath fans across your face, but he pulls away before you get to bask in any of the warmth. In his hand is a pillow from the couch that he plops onto the floor.
“Bad knees,” Dr. Morales mumbles, smirking at the dazed look in your eye. You say absolutely nothing, only watching as he drops his knees onto the wide pillow, hands clenching the edge of the couch cushions.
All the doctor does for a tick is stare. He stares and stares, tongue darting out to wet his mouth.
“Keep rubbing for me, hermosa,” Dr. Morales orders. “Just a little more.”
Your pussy clenches around nothing when your fingers dip down and come back sticky with your wetness. A whine exits you, and your head falls again.
“Can you touch me now? Please,” you remember to add at the end, the ache between your legs forcing you to squirm. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”
A hand on your thigh almost startles you. Your head tips back up to see his palm sitting heavy against your leg.
“This what you want?” He asks, another scalding touch planting itself on your other thigh. His hands give thrilling grips, thumbs landing at the very edge of your dripping lips.
A pathetic nod from you.
“Words, gorgeous,” Dr. Morales tells you, gaze completely unmoving.
Gorgeous. Hm. A new one, but just as effective.
You pant a few more times before pushing out “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”
“Good girl,” he praises, and you’re nearly done for. “Now, if I ask on a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?”
It’s tough to think of an answer. His hands, so big and inching closer and closer to your heat, are melting your thoughts away at record speed. Everything you try to come up with leaves too fast for you to catch them.
“A… a seven,” you sigh, liking the way his eyes twinkle at your response. “Seven.”
Dr. Morales chuckles lowly, looking up at you.
“Seven?” Frankie grins. “I haven’t touched your pussy yet, and you’re already at a seven?”
He waits for an answer but only receives a long whine that makes him want to laugh again. Fuck, you’re cute. And wet enough that your juices ooze out of you with a pretty shine, and it’s all for him.
Honestly, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because this is for science. Because Francisco Morales is a medical professional and needs to have some kind of composure. It’s breaking, though. He knows it, and not just because of the way his hands crawl closer and closer to your pussy. Or because of the ache in his cock that’s straining against the crotch of his jeans. Sucking in a breath at the feeling of it catching against the tight fabric, Frankie scans you.
Your chest, those stunning tits, have a noticeable rise and fall and you watch him. Something in your gaze, an unexplainable force, finally pulls his face down. It’s as close to your pussy as it’s been. He tries to remind himself about the self-control he’s supposed to be possessing, but a few more seconds pass and it’s nowhere to be found.
He starts just off the left side. The first kiss, soft and careful to start easy. Figure out what you like, what you don’t, and what you really like.
Kiss after kiss, his lips press a little harder. Gliding across the skin of your thighs and pelvis, staying in a spot a little long when it elicits a sound or squirm from you.
The pecks turn to full smooches, and he soon enough finds himself right where he wants to be.
Eyes meeting yours, he sinks into you with a long, fiercely slow drag of his tongue. Frankie’s gaze ties into yours, he puckers his lips and sucks. It’s a supple thing that he pairs with a flick of his tongue right across your pearl.
“Oh,” you squeak, unable to continue with anything but another broken sound. When you arch, Frankie’s hand reaches higher to rest against your hip. He had his suspicions that you were a squirmer, but to see it like this, up close is something else. Something special. “Shit.”
God, you taste incredible. Better than incredible, and while he wants to tell you he can’t. There’s no way he’s pulling away from this, so he suffices for his own moan.
“Fuck,” he mumbles against you, mouth lifting to suck a bit harder. The hand not occupied on your hip reaches until his thumb sits just inside your opening. He rubs, delicately, all the way up, only pulling his mouth away to smooth it over the slick skin.
Another moan, this time from both of you when your hips grind upwards. He matches your movements, letting his head dip back down to continue his lick.
After a while, Frankie decides to up it a notch. Delve as much of his mouth as he can against you, lapping and slurping whatever he can catch before it leaks down onto his chin. The sound it makes, your pussy and his soaking lips, is disgusting. Loud, sinful squelches of wetness that he would give anything to hear for the rest of his life.
Yet somehow, what leaves you is even better. A combination of hitching breaths, loud coos, and cries for him to keep going. Just like that, fuck. So he keeps going, just as he is until he can barely breathe.
He yanks away from you with a grunt but makes sure to replace his tongue with his hand. 
“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie husks out, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh while he finishes catching his breath. “What number now, princesa?”
Frankie makes sure to wait until you’re about to answer him when he snakes his tongue into your slit and fucks. His head bobs back and forth, tongue caressing as deep inside of you as he can. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing with ease thanks to the mixture of slick and spit.
“I don’t know, I can’t think of one,” you rush out, and Frankie chuckles. He gives you one last bold lick before pulling away. He has to hold you tighter when you squirm in irritation, nearly sobbing.
Frankie shushes you with a kind pat on your thigh. You don’t have a chance to whine anything out before he hooks an arm of your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the couch. One of your legs hangs just off the couch, so the doctor hitches it over his shoulder.
His eyebrows scrunch, and he focuses his attention on ghosting a few fingers just barely inside of you. He looks up at you and is met with you already looking back, ready and waiting for him to push further.
He pauses in a wait. Not ten seconds pass before you try to thrust his fingers further yourself, but he doesn’t let you.
“All you need to do is give me a number, baby, and I’ll fuck these as deep as you want.”
“Nine,” you whisper, and he spots your hands clench. You must want to touch him.
“Nine,” he repeated, thumb rolling a circle over your clit. “How many fingers to get you to ten?”
“Three, plea–ah,” you mewl out when Frankie slides his middle digit inside you. He lets out his own noise at the way you suck him in.
His hand bottoms out, and you’re already fucking yourself on his finger. “That’s a girl. Already taking my finger so well. Feel so fucking good around me.”
You’re truly a sight to behold as Frankie watches you, skin damp with a slight sheen, curving and grinding against his hand. Speed increasing, almost growls when he bends to lap at your clit. His tongue twirls against the bud of nerves, and he has to close his eyes to stop himself from reaching down and giving his painfully hard cock a squeeze.
Frankie slides in the second and third finger at the same time, and you break. 
You don’t mean to tangle his hair with your fingers, but they do anyway. It’s hard, but you tug them away, clenching the couch instead.
“Sorry. Sorry, I–” you blurt out, breath long gone, but Dr. Morales has none of it. He doesn’t lift from his licking and swirling to grab your hand and tangle your fingers back into his hair. “Fuck me.”
The rhythm he finds is relentless. He pumps knuckles deep inside you, sliding in and out, collecting a residue of thick moisture. He curls his fingers, searching and finding the spongy spot that causes you to tighten your grip on his hair. His fingertips drag across it, over and over, and you fall limp in his grasp.
“Good fucking girl,” he tells you, words slurring together in his pussy-drunken state. “So good for me. Now I need you to cum, alright? Need you to come for me, all over my fingers so I can drink it all up.”
Dr. Morales slurps messily, chin now nearly dripping as he eats at you. Savoring the tang and hint of sweet while his fingers drive with a steady vigor. There’s no way you can stay still now. You arch, twist, and grind into the doctor, propelling him even deeper. He’s reaching somewhere inside of you that you once thought impossible. Taking grasp of you entirely.
You’re close. You’re so close
“I’m clo–fuck, yes, I’m close. Please don’t stop, please,” you whimper.
“Yeah, you are. Squeezing all nice around me, like a good girl. Sucking you into my mouth. Love how you feel on my mouth, baby. And on my tongue and around my fingers. Never gonna forget how you taste. Shit, could come just like this, so I need you to come right now, okay?”
Frankie doesn’t even know what he’s saying, his rambles. They just pour out, some of it incomprehensible as he busies himself with circling and flicking your sensitive clit. 
You sob out one last moan before the damn breaks. He groans along with you at the way your clit throbs against his tongue. His fingers slow, but only a bit as they make sure to rub right against your g-spot.
A choking sound leaves you as you can barely breathe. The air sucks from your lungs almost as hard as Dr. Morales does down below, and your eyes clench shut. You see stars and space, world falling mute, and body quaking with a thick orgasm.
It rolls over you in drowning waves, the euphoric warmth, driving you with an unbearable bliss. You whine, crying out a few tears. Twitching and shivering under the strong hands of Dr. Morales. 
His hold is tender as you work through it, talking to you gently in the pauses he takes from licking you clean.
“Fucking look at you, querida.”
“Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.”
“Can’t wait to get you back in here next week.”
Only some of the words make it to your ears. The blood rushing makes it hard to understand, but just the sound of it is comforting enough. You feel more kisses press into you, this time just under your belly button, as the fingers inside you still.
The two of you stay like that for several minutes. Dr. Morales murmuring quietly to talk you down. Your leg still over his shoulder caressed by his free hand, while your own twirls at his brown locks.
“Fuck me,” you breathe out eventually, and Dr. Morales smiles against you. You can’t help but join him, chest warming at the final peck he places onto your knee before lowering your leg.
“Gonna pull out, okay? I’ll go slow,” he tells you. You nod, hand falling around his to touch at the warm skin. You huff out a short breath, mouth falling open as you stare at the wetness revealed when he begins to pull out.
Frankie whispers out his own damn, watching you until his fingers are free. Fuck, you’re pretty, aren’t you?
“I meant what I said earlier,” he declares, pushing away the thought. “Did great, muñeca. Incredible, actually.”
“I could say the same for you…” you mumble with a shy grin, and Frankie finds it touching. You’re divine. You’re precious. You’re… his patient.
The room is filled with heat and smells of sex. It clouds Frankie’s brain, but he knows he needs to keep moving. You can dwell, but not him. He’s got a job to do.
Frankie only lets himself stare for a few more minutes before he rises with a groan. His knees are aching, but he doesn't care. His face heats when you help him up the rest of the way, loose limbs and wet stains in all.
“Thank you,” he smiles, moving to hand you your robe with his untainted hand. “Let me go grab you some water and a towel, and then we can do your swab so you can get out of here.”
He’s turning to leave, heading for the bathroom across the hall to wash his hand–it’s still wet and shining, even now–but stops when he sees the look on your face.
“Is it required that I leave right away?”
Frankie is quick to answer. The small pout on your face makes it so.
“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “You’re free to take your time, take a breath. Sip on the water I’m gonna go grab you. Hell, you can even take a nap, if you want. I’ve uh… we’ve got rooms upstairs with beds and blankets. I think there are some snacks in there, too.
“Really?” You blink at him.
“Yeah. Gotta keep you all as comfortable as possible.”
Frankie sees that look again, the pout. He’s not sure you even know you’re doing it.
“I actually might take you up on that nap. I don’t think my legs have really come back yet,” you tell him, looking at him while slipping on the robe. When feels your eyes trail down, right to the bulge in his pants, he sucks in a rough inhale and does his best to screen the obvious.
“I’ll be right back with that water and towel,” Frankie rushes out, turning for the door.
His clean hand is sitting shaky on the handle when he hears you.
“Do you want me to…” you trail off, pausing for so long that he doesn’t expect you to keep going. “I could help you with that if you want.”
That. He knows you aren’t talking about getting water or towels, and it crumbles him. He grits his teeth, dick jumping at the thought of your–
No. No, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t.
Frankie turns, digging deep for the strength to look you in the eyes.
“...we shouldn't, sweetheart. It’s against the rules, and we don’t want either of us getting in any kind of trouble, right?”
It takes a long time for you to nod. Way too long.
“Right,” you agree, but Frankie can smell the lie. He wonders if you can smell his, too.
Tumblr media
© superhoeva
230 notes · View notes
swearyshera · 8 months
Text
Slowly making my way through the inbox, here's today's big bunch!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
@freedfromthegalactichivemind Snap! It's not beyond the realms of possibility, we shall see what happens with my other ideas for continuing the series.
Tumblr media
I can write them down for you! It reads...
Following the events of the finale, life changed for everyone on Etheria.
Scorpia was officially handed her kingdom back. Upon seeing the state of it she yelled "What motherfucking thundercunt did this?!" She is still apologising.
Within a month of Prime's defeat, Perfuma held the biggest Trans Pride parade Etheria had ever seen. Prince Peekable still did not turn up. He was later found dead, but Perfuma insisted that this was not an excuse for failing to support trans people.
Frosta was finally able to return to Hell. The other demons had not changed at all during her absence and were still massive dicks. She has now made this realm her permanent home. It has more cake.
Mermista initially failed to respond to our request for comment on how her life had changed. When we reached out again, she said "It's fine, I guess, whatever." Her smile indicated things were a lot better than 'just fine'.
Sea Hawk celebrated the defeat of Prime with a series of 'victory fires'. The resulting court cases found him guilty of arson and sentenced to a total of five years in prison. Mermista officially pardoned him after a lot of convincing.
After finishing Sweary She-Ra, Entrapta was tasked with writing the SPOP movie. It has been hailed as the greatest movie of all time and received glowing reviews from all critics. It never received a release outside of Etheria.
Hordak finally achieved his dream of taking over Etheria. There is now a branch of Greggs in every town and village on the planet. He and Entrapta created a unique menu of tiny sausage rolls.
Shadow Weaver's remains were returned to Mystacor. The burial site is now a popular gender-neutral bathroom.
Double Trouble opened an acting school. They closed it a week later after realising no-one could be as good they are.
Bow used his spare time to focus on inventing more tech. His inventions have changed the everyday lives of many Etherians. The French horn alarm clock was not one of them.
Glimmer now spends her days collecting antique weapons. Though she has no need to use them, they are maintained in perfect condition... just in case.
Catra went through a fuckton of therapy at Mystacor. Things may not be perfect but she's happy. Also, Castaspella told her several embarrassing stories about Glimmer as a child. Catra has them saved up for when she really needs to piss Glimmer off.
The first thing Adora did after defeating Prime was take a well-earned rest. Well, she slept for a few hours. Well, I say slept, she lay down on the bed for a few minutes. What can I say? Adora is still Adora.
Tumblr media
@hi-im-uur It's been my pleasure! There are a good few thousand strips to go through, so enjoy it all over again!
62 notes · View notes
jellifysh · 2 years
Text
Ride With You (part seven)
Tumblr media
Or, Jungkook's Exes Can Really Hold a Grudge
Ot7 x reader (jungkook x reader focus, slow burn, mafia au, the Boys are Crazy, guns, blood, lots of fighting, it’s mostly fighting so it might be kinda boring, Jimin talks too much, someone gets shot, idk how fighting works so this is probably super unrealistic)
A/n: aaaaaaah I’m so sorry ive been gone forever,, I was getting accustomed to my new classes and moving in and stuff, so sorry, everything should be back on schedule now,, so here’s the new chapter!
Tumblr media
“Okay,” Yoongi sighed, flipping through a file in his hands. “Does everyone remember what they’re doing?”
“It’s routine at this point.” Hoseok scoffed, leaning against the wall casually, like he wasn’t just about to be on the defending end of a warehouse raid. He was dressed in all black, some sort of tactical jumpsuit that fit him like a glove from head to toe, utility belts and holster strapped around him in various spots. He was a walking deadly weapon and even while relaxed, you could see the strength that he held in the toned muscles his suit highlighted. He bounced a ball against the wall, clearly bored.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, setting down the file on the table in front of him. “I was asking our new rookies here.” He said, clearly referring to you and Jungkook.
You were, in contrast, in ill fitting jumpsuits, your slightly too tight and Jungkook’s too big. You could see the way it couldn’t even reach your ankles, could feel how it restricted your movements ever so slightly, but they apparently had nothing better. Jungkook was too big to fit into his old combat gear so they threw him a spare that was basically the size of a king size blanket.
“We’re not rookies.” Jungkook argued, arms crossed as he pouted like a petulant child. You had the urge to pat his cheek and coo at him, even knowing that he’d probably just swat your hand away.
“We can’t say that for sure, who knows what those organization people filled your head up with. Never mind the fact you’re probably a bit rusty.” Yoongi shrugged.
“These suits sure as hell don’t help.” You snarked, and Yoongi only shrugged again, smirking, obviously not sorry about it.
“Survive this mission and maybe you’ll get better ones.” You turned your head toward the voice, watching Jimin slink into the room from a separate changing room, adjusting his thigh holsters. He, like Hoseok, looked perfect. His hair was slicked back out of his face, besides a lock of hair that escaped to drape over his forehead. His suit emphasized his muscles as well, similar to Hosoek but different in the fact that his arms and thighs were thicker, clearly more suited to hands on forms of combat, where individual strength could gain the upper hand. His suit did nothing but serve to make you jealous.
You had a perfect combat suit, back with the organization. You hugged, looking to the other door, where Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung were supposedly coming to meet you if they would hurry up. You sure as hell didn’t miss your organization, but at least there you had certain benefits. You quickly reminded yourself though, that the benefits were far outweighed by the drawbacks, a shiver running down your spine.
The door finally opened, after a few more moments of silent waiting, Namjoon coming through with a file of his own and Jin and Taehyung in tow.
“Nice suit.” Jin smirked as he walked past you.
“Shut up.” You snapped.
Jin stopped, turning back to raise an eyebrow at you. “Excuse me?”
“Jin, if we could begin please.” Namjoon intervened, tapping the table with a finger as he looked at Jin expectantly.
“Namjoon, did you hear what she said to me?”
“So, let’s review one more time.” Namjoon said instead, Jin rolling his eyes and glaring at you as he walked away. You smiled, sticking your tongue out at him, watching him sputter indignantly.
“Hoseok,” Namjoon began. “Your role?”
“My role is to stay on site of the warehouse, watch over the foot soldiers and security and make sure nothing goes to shit.” Hoseok said, still bouncing the ball and barely paying attention.
“Sure.” Namjoon tilted his head, deciding to just move on. “Taehyung?”
“I will assist Hoseok and watch over the security cameras, making sure to let him know if anything suspicious happens and directing the security in general.” He reported, face that same blank, unreadable expression as it always was.
“Good. Yoongi?”
“I will be going with Y/n, Jungkook, and Jimin and directing them around Ateez’s base once I hack into the security.” Yoongi droned, bored already.
“Ateez?” You asked, halting the smooth flow.
“Yeah, that’s the rival gang that Hongjoong leads. The one we’re about to invade. You didn’t even know their name?” Jin asked, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Well, it’s not like anybody bothered to explain it to me. I figured it wasn’t crucial to the mission.” You defended, narrowing your eyes back at him.
“Well, aren’t you the perfect little puppet.” Hoseok smiled, no warmth in his face whatsoever.
“Can we just focus on this mission so we can know what we’re doing?” Jungkook groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “And I can get out of this room.” He mumbled under his breath, making you have to hold back a giggle. He smiled at you behind his hand and you relaxed, the tension that had come into your body leaving as you leaned into his side. You didn’t need to worry about a thing. You and Jungkook were on a mission again, together and that’s all you needed.
“Jin, your role?”
“Getaway driver. I’ll be taking Yoongi, Jimin, Jungkook, and the pet to Ateez’s warehouse and then waiting on them to call for ride out.”
“Right.” Namjoon towards you now, looking you directly in the eyes with an intensity that still intimidated you. “Now, it is crucial you understand what you’re doing. Y/n, your role?” He asked expectantly.
“My role is to assist Jungkook and Jimin as we go through the warehouse. Directed by Yoongi, we will make our way into Ateez’s arsenal and take their Pirate sniper and then get out.” You said, repeating the information you had memorized a thousand times already.
The Pirate sniper was a gun, designed originally by Taehyung, that they replicated using schematics on a flash drive that Ateez stole from BTS years ago. Ateez could only ever produce one because they didn’t the resources to mass produce it like Bangtan could. The only reason they made it in the first place and sacrificed resources was as a power play. And now, Bangtan wanted to steal it back, as a reminder of who was really in power.
“I think it’s stupid we’re only getting the gun.” Hoseok scoffed. “That flash drive has countless unique designs Taehyung made with his blood, sweat, and tears, and they have all of them. If they decide make another, or something on that flash drive that’s even more powerful—“
“They can’t, they don’t have the resources—“ Jin dismissed, but Hoseok cut him off again.
Hoseok cut back in, his hand slamming against the table. “They didn’t have the resources, but that was years ago. We can pretend all we like that they’re still the rookies they were when they first popped up, but they’re becoming a real threat now. They’re getting more resources and connections and as long as they have that flash drive—“
“We can’t do anything about that now. Later, but not right now. The longer we stand here, the more time we lose.” Namjoon said with finality, making Hoseok reluctantly keep his mouth shut. “So, Jungkook, Jimin, your mission is the same as Y/n’s. Stick together, keep each other safe. Yoongi, I’m trusting you to keep watch over everything over there.” Namjoon nodded towards the older man, gathering up the files, and you all stood at attention, ready for the real challenge to begin.
“You got it, boss.” Yoongi replied, sliding a silenced pistol into his inner jacket pocket. “Let’s go.”
The ride there was uneventful. Jungkook’s leg shook on the backseat next to you and you knew he was likely a bit nervous. He always was when going into missions, but now especially since you had been off the job for a couple years now. You both had kept up your skills enough for self defense, but going back into running missions when you had retired from this life was definitely different, even you felt some jitters creeping up on you. You laid your hand over his knee, calming him, and he laid his hand over yours, the two of you silently reassuring each other the whole ride there.
“Alright,” Jin slowed to a stop in an area filled with trees, nothing but underbrush and darkness around you. “This is your stop. If you keep heading straight ahead, you’ll come to the back of their warehouse, the control room should be somewhere in the back hallway.”
“Got it. Let’s go.” Jimin said, sliding effortlessly out of the car. Yoongi got out the passenger seat and you and Jungkook slid out the back, following them.
“Be careful.” Jin called out, driving out of the area.
The four of you walked forward, eventually coming up to the fence around a tall building, the area lit with street lights around the complex.
“No cameras facing this way,” Jimin said after doing a quick scan. He snorted. “Amateurs.” He knelt down, holding his hand out for Yoongi to use as a boost over the fence while he, Jungkook, and yourself scaled it easily. You moved quickly to the back door, spending as little time in the light at possible and pressing yourself up against the wall out of sight.
“They don’t even have guards on patrol.” Jimin critiqued as you all crept towards the back door.
“They probably don’t have any to spare. From what Taehyung’s saying, the scale of the attack on our base is bigger than we expected. They must be using all their spare men for the raid.” Yoongi said, reporting what Taehyung was telling him in his earpiece. “But we’ll handle their raid just fine.”
“Of course.” Jimin smiled proudly, stepping away from the wall as you all came up on the entrance you were looking for. He stared up at the door. “Does this door have any alarms attached to it?” He asked, turning to Yoongi.
Yoongi scanned the door, eyeing it for any tripwires or alarms attached to it. “Mm, no, it should be fine to break open.”
“Good.” Jimin turned, swiftly kicking the door in. It burst open with little resistance to his powerful kick, swinging open to reveal a long bright hallway with doors on either side and another door at the very end. You all walked in, surveying each door. Jimin spun in a circle, studying each closely. Honestly, they were identical, you couldn’t tell what might be behind any of the standard beige doors. “Well, one of these is the control room.”
“You gonna kick all these open too?” You quipped, and Jimin side eyed you, rolling his eyes.
“I can pick the locks.” Jungkook said, stepping forward and pulling out a ring of jingling tools from his belt. He picked open door after door before finally opening one to reveal monitors and controls. “Bingo.”
“Great, then this is where we leave you.” Jimin said to Yoongi. “We’ll be waiting on your commands.” He turned to head towards the main door at the end of the hallway that would lead you into the rest of the base, Yoongi nodding and stepping into the room, fingers tapping away to access their systems and surveillance with an ease that screamed experience. Everything about the way they did their missions was with intense precision and skill. It was no simple feat to be able to take over the underground the way they had done, and yet they hardly broke a sweat doing it. They were truly a group of talented individuals that had come together, and dangerous because of that very reason.
You walked over to where Jimin was standing, all of you waiting until you heard Yoongi confirm there was nothing on the other side to open it and continue forward.
At some point, Jungkook had been a part of that finely tuned machine. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, his face blank. While he outwardly hated being near them, it was undeniable that he was easily slipping back into whatever routine he had around them in the past, easily reading their movements and following their commands when it came to missions, knowing their next move before they even said anything. He shadowed Jimin while you all walked, made the decision to pick the locks before Jimin could even say anything about it, subconsciously watching your backs whenever Jimin was leading you forward. But you didn’t point it out, especially since he would likely just deny it.
Jimin sighed in contentment as you strode through the empty hall. “I love easy missions.” He said, not even bothering to be quiet.
“It shouldn’t be this easy. This place is like a ghost town.” You commented, keeping your voice low. Something felt off. There was no way that they would have a deserted base, no matter how amateurish Bangtan believed them to be. You looked at the walls, mentally mapping out the pathways you had traveled. The place was a sterile white, the walls, the tile flooring, the doors, all devoid of any uniqueness. What were the chances that all their soldiers really were away attacking Bangtan’s base?
“Oh please, these guys aren’t a threat. We’ve squashed them into the dirt countless times and we’re about to again.” Jimin replied, seemingly treating this like a walk in the park. “Them getting this gun has been so annoying. Since Taehyung designed it, it’s incredibly powerful and dangerous to have pointed at you. Having them sniping at us from rooftops has made dealing with them hell lately. I can’t wait to take back what’s ours.”
You hummed, only half paying attention. As you walked, you looked around the facility. It honestly wasn’t as elementary as Jimin made it seem. Sure it was no Bangtan base, but they were the underground princes of Asia at this point. For a supposedly small gang, this was rather impressive. Not that you would say that out loud, Jimin might skin you alive.
“Turn down this hallway, and at the end there will be stairs to the top floor. It’s on the top floor in a safe room in the same hallway as Hongjoong’s office.” Yoongi directed. “As long as you stick to the emergency exit to get up there, you shouldn’t be detected. I’ve turned off the cameras ahead of you.”
Jimin acknowledged him, the three of you taking care to tread lightly as to not make a sound that would give away your position. You stalked to the base of the stairs, creeping silently up the stairs, senses focused on picking up any distant noise that would indicate someone approaching.
“Anyone on the floor, Yoongi?” Jimin spoke quietly, listening for movement on the other side of the door.
“No. You’re in the clear. I’d move quickly though, it seems like the guards are on the move.” Yoongi’s voice crackled through your ear. “I just took down the cameras in this hall, but I’m sure it’s a matter of time until they notice.”
You three crept down to the end of the hall where Yoongi said the safe room was, Jungkook stepping forward to pick the lock. In a matter of seconds, the door was open and you slowly entered, moving past shelves and piles of other weapons and materials they had stored in here. It seems like only their most precious items were stored inside.
“This must be where their leader keeps the stuff he wants to keep an especially close eye on.” Jungkook murmured, looking at some army grade body armor stacked on top of some crates labeled ‘fragile’.
“Damn,” Jimin cursed across the room, rifling through a drawer. “I was hoping Tae’s flash drive would be somewhere in here, but I don’t see it, and we don’t have time to search thoroughly.”
“I suggest you take the gun now and run. We may not have time for the flash drive, but we have time for what we came for, so focus.” Yoongi hissed trough the earpiece, and Jimin rolled his eyes, walking to the back of the room.
“Fine.” Jimin acquiesced, going to the gun that was propped on display almost proudly above a crate with other ammunition and weapons. It had Ateez’s logo scratched onto the base of it, their logo priory shown. Jimin slung the strap over him shoulder, securing it to hang on his back. “Well, this was easy. Let’s go home.”
As you turned towards the door however, you could all hear the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall.
“Five people coming straight towards you. More coming up the main stairway. It seems like they figured out we’re here.” Yoongi reported. “Take down these people as fast as you can, and head back towards the way you came.”
Jimin smiled, rushing into the hallway to meet, letting out a soft giggle that was far too angelic for what he was about to do. “Now we have some excitement!”
“Is he usually this excited about killing people?” You whispered to Jungkook as you followed into the hallway to back up Jimin.
“From what I remember, yes.”
The two of you made it out the room to see two men already down on the floor, Jimin practically running circles around the rest, or rather, flipping circles. He moved around them so swiftly you weren’t even sure if he was touching the floor. He kicked at one guard’s chest sending him flying into the wall, grabbed another guard’s arm that was racing for him and flipped him up into the air before throwing him towards another guard coming to charge him. He then whipped out his handgun, planting a bullet soundly into each of their stunned heads.
“All done.” He said, turning to you and Jungkook while slipping his gun back into his holster. He cast an annoyed look at you. “I really don’t know why Namjoon wanted you here. Me and Jungkook could’ve done this perfectly without you.” He hummed, stepping over the bodies like they weren’t even there.
“Better safe than sorry.” Jungkook responded, cutting off whatever other snarky remark he was about to say in favor of getting the mission done as quickly as possible. “Now let’s go.”
A thud caught your attention before any of you could move, all of you realizing too late that it was the sound of a door opening down the hall. Then, all you could hear was sirens.
“They triggered the alarms.” Yoongi said.
You rolled your eyes. “Thank you, captain obvious.”
Yoongi continued, ignoring your comment. “The cameras are still off, so they won’t know where you are unless they spot you and tell others. But you can’t go the back way anymore, there’s people coming up the stairs now.”
“What’s the quickest way out of here?” Jungkook asked.
“There’s are two ways you can take. You’ll have to fight both ways, but you go straight forward and take the first right, you’ll find the main stairway. There’s less people there and a more direct exit out of the building.”
The three of you took off towards the hallway, running to where Yoongi directed you, finding nearly the whole hallway blocked by guards that were making their way to you. Wasting no time, you started clearing your path, launching yourself at a guard off to the side. You landed on his chest, his head slamming against the ground as he hit the floor, springboarding off him towards another guard who you kicked in the chest, then ducked down and swiped his leg out from under him while he was stunned. Taking your gun out of your holster you quickly shot them all in the leg so they wouldn’t get back up, and continued fighting the other guards that had moved in on you.
You could see Jungkook and Jimin also fighting out the corner of your eyes, all of you taking down the men easily without breaking a sweat. The fighting was a unforeseen complication, but all of you had the skill to hold your own, even if it meant using a few more bullets than expected. Quickly, you had all battled everyone blocking your path to the hallway, leaving a sea of bodies in your wake littering the floor.
“I think that’s a new personal record.” Jimin smiled to himself as he stretched. “What was that, two minutes?”
“A minute forty seven, I think.” Jungkook said, patting himself down to check for any injuries or debris.
“Shit,” you heard Jimin hiss, looking over to see him pulling the gun off his back, or, what was left of it. It seems in the fighting a stray bullet or punch had hit the gun, causing it to snap into pieces, barely attached to the strap anymore. Jimin dropped it to the ground, letting it fall further into a pile of rubble. “It’s completely useless now.”
“At least they can’t use it anymore.” You said as an attempt of consolation.
Jimin hummed, staring down at it on the floor before stepping away from it. “I suppose. We’ll just remake it better.” He turns to you, attention caught by you digging around the bodies of the guards on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing if any of these uniforms are salvageable.” You said, pulling up a limp body and examining its clothes for any bullet holes. You looked him, noticing a splotch of blood on his side, and dropped him onto the floor, unclipping the golden chain around his neck and pocketing it.
“Why?” He asked, nose scrunching in disgust, an expression probably only Jimin could manage to make look cute. “They look sweaty.”
“Disguise is half of the job.” You said, taking the over shirt and pants of a female guard and slipping into them. “If we look like them, they might not stop us.”
“That’s a great idea.” Jungkook gasped, joining you in stealing a uniform for himself.
“You want us to put on sweaty uniforms for a small possibility it might help?” Jimin said, tone dripping w unease.
“Do whatever you want.” You huffed. Unbuttoning a nearly pristine shirt from a female guard and putting it on. By the time you found a pair of pants to wear, Jimin had joined you in taking clothes, all of you fixing the uniforms over your combat suits.
“Now that we’re done playing dress up, get back to escaping,” Yoongi said, and you could practically hear him roll us eyes over the comm. “No one’s in the stairway, but I can’t say how long that’ll last.”
Taking Yoongi’s advice, the three of you started down the long, now empty hall, towards the door to the main stairway.
“This is bringing back so many memories,” Jimin hummed, moving to fall in step next to Jungkook. "Remember when we first met?" He asked dreamily looking over at Jungkook with a smile.
"You mean the time when you handed me a gun and told me to impress you or you’d toss me back in the street?" Jungkook deadpanned.
You pace slowed, then stopped as you passed a door that caught your attention. You looked back at Jimin and Jungkook still walking ahead, then peeked back through the window.
"We were just joking." Jimin rolled his eyes, voice echoing slightly as they continued down the hall. Jungkook gave him an unimpressed look. "No really, we were. We'd never have thrown you out, we knew from the moment we saw you that there was something special about you."
“Was it how naive and gullible I was?" Jungkook quipped back.
Your eyes studied the door once again, seeing a name plate that read ‘HJ’. Almost on instinct, you struck the doorknob, breaking it and the lock mechanism and moved inside carefully in case of any alarms. After a moment of silence, you determined that, one, there were no alarms, and two, your suspicions were right. You were inside Hongjoong’s office. The picture on the desk and notebook filled with hurried handwriting with reminders of dates for meetings confirmed that. Your eyes scanned the room, bosses always kept valuable stuff in their personal spaces.
You peeled your head back into the hall. Jimin and Jungkook were focused on marching ahead. You would have to make this quick, you didn’t have time to rifle around the room to your hearts content. You looked around the room, digging through drawers and cabinets. You found a gold watch, a thin Diamond necklace, and a bag full of money. You pocketed the watch and necklace (authentic and classy), leaving the money (you had plenty of your own), and finally stumbled upon what you were looking for in the bottom drawer of his desk: a simple black safe. The outside looked plain but it was high quality, had you not been better trained it might’ve taken you a while to pop open. But you made quick work of it using one of the Bobby pins pinning your hair back from your face.
Inside, there was more money, a photo of eight men (one of them Hongjoong, the rest you weren’t sure), and at the very back, under an envelope, a sparkly gold flash drive. You snatched it up, closing everything back up the way you found it, and rushed back out into the stairway. Hardly a minute had gone by, and you moved to catch up with your teammates.
As you pushed the door open and hopped down the stairs to catch up with them, Jimin and Jungkook turned to you with confusion. “Where were you?” Jimin asked, not even noticing you had slipped away.
“I thought I saw one of the guards getting back up. We’re all clear.” You dismissed, tucking a hair behind your ear. Jungkook shot you a suspicious look, but didn’t ask anything, and the three of you continued on.
“Everybody up, the intruders are still in the building somewhere, I want every floor searched!” A voice shouted below you, a flood of guards rushing up the stairs. You forced yourself to relax and look like you know what you were doing, sending a pointed look at Jimin and Jungkook to do the same.
“Where are you two going? The intruders are supposed to be on the upper floors.” A passing guard asked you, eyeing you suspiciously.
“We went up there and didn’t see them so we’re searching the floors below.” You explained, adding some irritation into your tone to make it seem like you were annoyed he was interrupting you.
“I see,” he nodded. “Spread out to some of the lower floors, it’s possible they may have moved already!” He yelled out to the others, moving past you. You shot a satisfied look at Jimin, continuing down the stairs.
“That was easy,” You breathed as you exited onto the main. You smiled over at the other two with you, Jimin pouting at the fact that your plan worked. “I think we’ll be able to walk right out the door in these.”
“Hey you!” A voice yelled behind you. “Where are you going?” You turned, seeing a man stride up to you, with narrowed eyes.
“We’re searching the lower floors for the intruders.” You answered.
“Shouldn’t you be with your squad? Where’re your badges? And your pins?” A look of realization crossed his face. “Unless… you’re the—“
Before he could finish his sentence, Jimin had whipped out his gun, planting a bullet square between his eyebrows. He toppled over, lying in the floors within seconds.
“Jimin!” You gasped.
“What?” He asked, stepping over the body and continuing to the other stairs Yoongi mentioned.
“You just killed him?” Jungkook questioned.
“Yeah. He was about to blow our cover.”
“We didn’t have to kill him so quickly,” you sighed. “We could’ve knocked him out, immobilized him and stuffed him in a closet somewhere, or—“
“I think there’s something I’m not understanding here. If they die, they can’t get back up. Isn’t that best way to immobilize someone?” Jimin raised an eyebrow at you.
“Stop arguing. Your exit is going to be on your left, main entrance past the lobby. It’s deserted right now, but you won’t have long until they start to search down here, too.” Yoongi interrupted you. You sighed and dropped it, Jimin would never listen to you about anything without a fight and now was not the time. Getting out of here was of the utmost importance and no amount of arguing would fix a dead body.
Finally, after what seemed like endless walking, the exit doors were finally in sight, and the night sky was calling you through the windows.
“Where are you three headed?” A voice came from behind you, stopping you all in your tracks.
“I swear to god…” Jimin hissed under his breath, as the three of you turned around, irritated at being repeatedly questioned. A man stood there, authoritative in his stance, staring down each of you suspiciously. He was wearing different clothes form the others with more badges and shiny pins, and had a keener look in his eye. Something told you it’d be harder to trick him than the others. “We’re searching this level for the intruders.” Jimin spouted the same excuse you had used with the others.
However, this man seemed undeterred. “Are you sure?” The man asked, not believing your answer so easily. Your hand shook slightly before you reigned it in. “If you’re looking so carefully, why was there a dead body on the pathway you just came from?”
Jungkook answered, but you had seen him look the guy up and down the same way you had, and that he had come to the same conclusion. This man wouldn’t believe a word you said. “The intruders must’ve just gone that way, we’ll go look for them there—“ he said, forcing his tone to be level and casual, trying to get out the situation anyways.
“No.” The man said. His voice was deathly calm as a squad of guards started to emerge from behind him. “I don’t think you will.” He lifted his hand, pointing at you with a sharp smile as seemingly every guard in the building filed into the large lobby room. “Get them.” He commanded, and instantly the guards charged towards you, guns and batons raised. You tried to stay near Jungkook, but they separated you all from each other, forcing you back against a wall.
You fought back their attacks, managing to keep the guards from landing a hit on your body while staying close enough to use their bodies as cover from the gunfire. Irritation grew as you fought off the seeming infinite flow of people moving in on you. You were getting sweaty and hot and you could feel the excess fabric slowing you down. You growled, the frustration getting unbearable, and ripped the shirt you were wearing off, wrapping the torn fabric around a man’s arm and using his trapped hand to flip him over your shoulder. Next, the pants were ripped off and tied around the neck of a man who charged you, pulling it tight until he went limp in your arms and slumped to the floor. You reached down to a knife strapped to your thigh and slashed out around you, cutting and slicing some of the guards, spraying blood into the air and floor. While they were stumbling back from you, you took the chance to rip the seams cutting off the movement of your arms and legs, making it easier to rip off the sleeves and pant legs of your jumpsuit.
With more range to kick and jump, you could easily flip over the enemies and dodge their attacks, jumping out of the way in just the right moment to make them charge at each other and redirecting their weight to throw them around and knock them to the ground. You used your knife like an extension of your arm, slicing and stabbing, and slowly less and less guards got back up to challenge you.
You fought swiftly like a hurricane, spinning and attacking the horde surrounding you from all angles, striking them in the chest, groin, head, whatever you could hit. This was your element, hand to hand combat where you could just let yourself go on autopilot, groans of pain around you tuned out as you focused on hitting all their weak spots. After a while of fighting, you were finally able to look around you and locate where Jimin and Jungkook were, moving to get closer to them and make sure thay were okay.
Luckily, they seemed to be holding their own well, Jungkook was punching back at the people attacking him, ducking and dodging under attacks swiftly, moving in when his enemy had an opening and knocking them out cold with a right hook. Jimin was ducked behind a pillar, stealthily taking down the people wielding guns in the room down with his own pistol. Bodies dropped around the room in quick succession as he landed precise shots on each of them.
You caught Jimin’s eyes while you fought, glancing over for a brief second and seeing already him staring right at you while he reloaded with a glint of darkness in his eyes as they seemed to rake down your form. What was that look about? It wasn’t the usual hate and annoyance he had in his eyes but more of a deep heat, the kind that simmered in your core. You shook the thought away, choosing to focus on making your way over to where Jungkook was.
Jungkook looked over as you made your way to him. “That’s a nice look on you.” He smiled, pointing to your now completely bare thighs, narrowly dodging under a punch being thrown as him. “Mind if I borrow your knife?”
You tossed it to him while sweeping the leg of a guard creeping up next to you. Now that you had cleared the way, more bullets were being fired, making you have to stay low and duck around things to stay out of sight. Jungkook had used your knife to cut open the top part of his jumpsuit, the loose sleeves hindering his movements. You smiled at his toned chest on display, the black tank top under the suit clinging to his skin like a second skin. “That’s a good look for you,” you repeated his words teasingly as you stood behind a nearby pillar for cover.
You settled against the pillar, catching your breath as you took out your own gun. You didn’t like to shoot people. It was too permanent a fate, and felt cowardly, especially if the person wasn’t fighting back. But in situations like these, a well placed bullet was useful in at least slowing people down. You took your aim as you peeked out from behind your pillar, shooting your enemies’ shoulder or leg to disarm and distract them. Jungkook shouldered in next to you behind the pillar, taking a breather and using the chance to scan the room, much more empty than when you all began fighting. “Yoongi, get to the exit, we should be able to escape soon.” He said into the comm.
“You sure?” Yoongi’s voice answered in your earpiece. He had been watching over the cameras to let you all know if more guards were coming and from where, but their forces were dwindling for a while now. The only people left in the building were already inside the room with you, and you had found the exit so his assistance was no longer needed. It was a miracle they didn’t know Yoongi was in the building too, or else he might’ve had the same troubles you were facing.
“Yes, we’ll be fine.” Jimin jumped into the conversation, agreeing with Jungkook. You eyed his figure across the room, ducked behind an upturned table as he reloaded his gun. “Make sure you get to safety and call Jin. Once he pulls up, we’ll all make a break for the car and leave.”
“Understood. You guys are on your own now, be safe.”
Jimin moved closer to you guys, rolling and ducking behind a pillar near where you and Jungkook were hiding. “Well, this mission became a bit messier than expected.” He said, leaning out to fire a few shots then moved back into cover.
“You could say that again.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “But you always did underestimate others.” He scoffed, turning to beat up a couple guards who had approached your position.
Jimin shrugged unapologetically. “Still though, this reminds me of old times.” Jimin said out to Jungkook while shooting. “I’m so glad we can run missions together again. It’s going to be so much more fun now, and you can show me the skills you picked up when you were away from home—“
“Oh my god, Jimin, I don’t know why you guys are so obsessed with me when it was you who threw our relationship away in the first place!” Jungkook snapped, punching the guys he was fighting extra hard in his anger.
Jimin scoffed in disbelief, glancing over at him. “What are you talking about? We did nothing but love and cherish and spoil you, we gave you everything!”
“Right, having other people in our house and in our bed was loving and cherishing me, I get it.” Jungkook hissed at him sarcastically.
“What? Jungkook, those people didn’t matter.” Jimin rolled his eyes, leaning out to fire more shots.
“If they didn’t matter, why were they there?!” Jungkook yelled. “Who knows, it would’ve just been a matter of time until I didn’t matter to you either!”
Jimin froze, tone filled with concern and confusion. “Is that what you think?”
However, before Jungkook could even answer, a bullet shot across the room, lodging itself right into Jimin’s chest, and down he went. You and Jungkook rushed towards him behind he even hit the ground, pulling him fully behind the pillar for cover.
“Jimin, can you hear me?!” You exclaimed, sitting him up against it as he heaved for breath.
He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping. “Yes, stop shouting. I-I’m fine, I just need to…”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes right now! You need to get up so we can walk out of here.” Jungkook yelled, kneeling down next to him watching his face closely.
Jimin shook his head. “No, no, you guys, you have to leave me.”
“No—!“ You both protested.
“—I’ll be dead weight. Literally. It’s not worth it, go. You’ll get away faster if you leave me, I can hold back some of the guards—“ Jimin said, arm weakly reaching out for his gun, thrown to the floor a couple feet away from him.
“In your condition? Sure, you’ll be real capable. Stop spouting nonsense and get the fuck up!” Jungkook shouted. He tapped his earpiece, making sure Yoongi could hear him. “Hello? Yoongi, Jin, we need you here immediately, Hurry up!”
“We’re on our way, get outside and we’ll be there in a minute.”
You looked up at Jungkook, taking in deep breaths as you readied yourself for your next steps, tucking Jimin’s gun back into his belt and handing yours to Jungkook. “Jungkook, clear my path. Jimin, this is gonna hurt.” You hefted Jimin up over your shoulder as Jungkook took your gun, wielding his and yours as he fired at anyone in your way. You rushed past him while he held the door open for you, firing at anyone aiming at your back and the people who followed you out as you shielded Jimin from any danger in your arms, running out towards the perimeter gates.
The sound of a car rolling up in the trees to your left caught your attention, you hurrying over to it as Jin got out after seeing Jimin hurt. He quickly scanned his body, worry all over his face. “What happened—?!”
“What do you think happened? Get back in the car so we can leave!” Jungkook said after catching up with you all, pulling open the back door.
“He got shot close to his heart, he’s losing too much blood! I have to start treating his injuries now or else he might not make it back home.” Jin explained as he got a better look at him.
“Fine, I’ll fucking drive.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, climbing into the front seat that Jin left open.
“Yoongi, help me.” Jin asked the pale man, who nodded, the two of them quickly getting to work.
You handed Jimin to Jin and hopped in the passenger seat next to Jungkook while Yoongi, Jin and Jimin took up the backseat, turning it into a makeshift operating room within seconds. You looked back seeing Jin had pulled out tweezers, needles, and bandages from a compartment in the car.
Jungkook hit the gas, speeding you away from the base.
Jin reprimanded, ranting as he tried to keep his hands steady pulling the bullet out of Jimin’s shoulder. “Easy on the gas pedal, we’re working back here, and if you break my car—“
Jungkook cut him off, talking to you as he glanced in the rear view mirror. “They’re following us.”
“Jungkook, keep the car steady.” You commanded. Snatching Jimin’s gun from his belt, you opened up the sun roof, standing up on the middle console and aiming at the car following behind you.
Using his gun, you understood Jimin’s urge to brag about it— his gun was exceptionally powerful and efficient, the bullets fired out of the gun easily popping the tires and shattering the window of the cars behind you, making them swerve off the road. You fired at the line of cars until there were no more left, watching them pile up on the side of the road. Jungkook did his best to keep his driving smooth, easily gliding around sharp turns to not jostle you, not that it would’ve mattered. You were built for stuff like this, and nothing would’ve kept you from hitting your mark.
Inside the car, laying across the seats, Jimin stared up at you, vision spinning and hearing hazy as Jin hastily tried to stabilize him in the backseat, watching you handle his gun with ease, and from the sound of tires screeching behind them, he guessed you were doing a good job at it. You should’ve left him back there, it would’ve been so easy, escaping would’ve been much less messy if you left him behind and jumped into the getaway car. It’s what he would’ve done if you or Jungkook were shot and it’s what any of the other guys would’ve done if they were on this mission with him instead. They didn’t like to think about it, but self preservation comes before anything and the path of least resistance usually bears the best results. If they couldn’t keep themselves alive, then they were no use anyways.
But here you were, standing above him on the center console like a guardian angel, and in the moments before his vision started to go dark he could’ve sworn he saw wings. You ducked back into the car, done dealing your justice, and looked down at him. Weirdly, there was worry in your eyes.
“We’re getting you home safe Jimin. I can promise you that.” You said, and he believed you. His eyes closed.
---
Taglist: @justmewondering-recs @zae007live @jcrml @royalchickens @devilsbooksworld @creatorspalace @scuzmunkie @uno7 @dreamamubarak @bbgniecyy @tinyoonsblog @cosmic-waves7 @arin-swear-rose @sld88 @skyys-universe @mageprincess7 @drunkzseok @n4mina @singukieee @elraeeee @ratherbefangirling @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @bex-tk1 @btspurplesky @shownusshoulders @iheartsvt @drissteele @kookstempo @juju-227592 @bjoriis @blancflms
352 notes · View notes
candied-cae · 7 months
Text
Support For Palestine - No $$$ Needed!
Firstly, I highly recommend This Site, That Will Donate With One Click! (Seriously, no signing up, no inputing information, no costs, just press the button, I used it myself and you can revisit it every 24 hrs! So try to bookmark it or keep the tab open!)
And secondly, I recommend contacting your representatives in government and advocating for the millions of innocents currently facing danger in the Gaza Strip.
Joseph Biden, in a recent address, acknowledged that the "overwhelming majority of Palestinians had nothing to do with Hamas". I believe this time, right now, is our chance to try and break through our decades long, wrongfully given, support of the Ethnic Cleansing of the Gaza Strip. So I urge you, anyone with even just the time to spare, to try. Plead. Demand. At the worst, you tried and lost a little bit of time. At the best... maybe some people don't die.
So, I wrote a twt thread with instructions/advice for American Residents to reach out to their local representatives as simply, easily, and quickly as possible, and I wanted to share that same info here. I promise I only wants a few minutes of your time.
You can use this White House Contact Page to send one message to Biden and another to Harris. Just fill in your info and you can either write your own message, or feel free to copy and paste mine (it'll be at the bottom of this post)! The focus is first demanding that the US withdraws its support of the Israeli State.
Next, you can use this Common Cause page and instantly get all the information to reach out to your local representatives, it even tells you which committees they sit on! Just put in your address and it'll use that to find which jurisdictions you're in and provide links to all their contact pages. Again, fill in your info, some of mine also required a Topic, so I selected either "Foreign Relations/Affairs" or "Civil Rights and Humanities" and put in my message.
I clicked through all of mine, sent in my messages, used the exact same ones for all of them, only adding an additional note for my most direct representative as I grew up in the same town and wanted to express that to hopefully assist in drawing on his humanity, and it only took me about 30 minutes to get through.
Personally, I wanted to scream and rage and throw my whole beating angry heart at them and their gross, racist bigotry that allowed them to not only neglect the issue of the Israeli Occupation, but fund it. The US has been aiding Israel in their ceaselessly cruel genocide against the Palestinian people, and I'm sure it lights a white-hot fury in many of us. But, I wrote this plea with as much restraint and grace as I could bring myself to allow, if only for the sake of them possibly listening instead of tuning it out.
My statement -
Subject : We Cannot Support a Genocidal Ethnic Cleansing
To the Office of  _________ - 
I am pleading with the governing powers in place to help the people of Palestine. The government in Israel has said not only with their actions, by committing multitudes of War Crimes and breaking the Geneva Convention repeatedly, but even in their own words that they intend to entirely decimate and wipe out the citizens of Gaza. They have already killed and injured thousands in only these last few days - to say nothing of the past 7 decades they have spent doing the very same - and this devastation is a human rights violation like something we have never seen to this degree being supported and under-reported. Especially by the American Government, which has always held its citizens to the belief that they are a good and just organization that stands for humanity wherever it can. 
We have already lost so many innocents in Palestine, but there are still so many that can be spared and saved if our government can withdraw its support of the Israeli Occupation. If they can inform their citizens of the truth that has been happening for so, so very long.
The U.S. has been wrong in its history of supporting and ignoring the cruelty that has been taking place for so long. But only by righting ourselves, by admitting and accepting that the financial aid we've sent has, at this point, become a sunken investment without the extermination of the Palestinian people. It hurts to lose so much money, it hurts to admit we've been on the wrong side of history, but the only way to stop the damage from growing exponentially worse, is to address it honestly now. 
This is not about Judaism. This is not about Jewish people by ethnicity or religious affiliation. This is not about Nazism or Antisemitism.
This is about the colonizing power of the IDF that has been ignored and allowed for almost a century.
Please. Try to save some of them before it's too late.
This comes from a concerned citizen who is feeling extremely devastated by the state of things currently. 
As a human being, who I hope cares for the lives of fellow human beings, we cannot allow this to happen. Least of all with our seal of approval. 
-[Your Name and any Salutations]
23 notes · View notes
abitohoney · 1 year
Note
*Kicks imaginary door open*
I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🗣🗣🗣
Do you have any headcanons for Ran? Relationship, domestic (if that’s their bag), n/sfw, or otherwise? I will take any crumbs you can spare
*hides behind imaginary coffee table turned on it's side*
THANK YOU SWEET NONNY! ❤️❤️❤️
I'm so glad to see all these Ran requests coming in! More love for Ran! 🖤
Tumblr media
Here's some of my thoughts on having a relationship with Ran and just some general thoughts as well;
(NSFW, MDNI)
I HC that Ran identifies as pansexual, with a lean towards the ladies (yes I might be projecting with that last bit).
Also think Ran has a preference for polyamory, both romantic and sexual. But if you're not one for sharing, they would make an exception.
Related to the above, Ran probably has more than just a friendship with Dustin and you can bet they'll occasionally ask to include him in any bedroom activities. (I personally would not be interested)
Also suspect Ran and Sevika have a secret history of bedroom shenanigans. Don't be surprised if a threesome is in store for you with her as well. (Might be projecting my own desires again 😆)
Kinks and toys galore! Ran has an endless number of kinks, far too many to list, so don't ever think something you're into is weird. Chances are Ran has already done it, loved it, and perfected it. Has enough sex toys to run their own sex shop. Everything from plugs to floggers to the St. Andrew's cross sitting in plain site in their bedroom. Hope you like a little pain and fear with your pleasure, cause that's one of their favs. Likes to use those twin blades they carry around on their back for a little knife play.
Dom. Top. No exceptions. Ran is 100% in charge at all times. Likes to give pleasure, not receive it- at least not directly. Ran definitely gets off watching you lose yourself under their ministrations. Now that's not to say they won't respect your boundaries, or your safe word, because they definitely will. But if you like to be in charge, Ran is not for you my friend.
Keeps their clothes on while you're completely nude. It's a sort of power trip for them.
Not particularly affectionate, but won't turn you down if you try to cuddle up to them or sneak a kiss. Just don't expect Ran to initiate it unless they can clearly see you need it. If you're looking distressed after a particularly wild night of new or hardcore kinks and toys, Ran will be extra gentle and tentative as they clean you up and hold you against them in bed.
Not much of a talker.
Doesn't like to express their feelings much.
Quiet and mysterious- an observer.
Likes to focus their attention on you. Your words, reactions, and mannerisms.
Has no issue with teasing you in public, rather enjoys getting you hot and bothered. Playing that billiards game with Ran and the gang? Ran will ghost fingertips, be it flesh or metal, along the small of your back or any exposed skin. You had better be prepared for a hand on your ass or between your thighs if you bend over to take a shot. Ran has zero shame.
Very protective! Not in a 'you're mine and only mine' sort of way. Ran will share, as goes with the territory of polyamory. But if you're in any danger, be it a physical threat or being bullied, they are there with those blades or their fists at the ready.
The first time Ran brings you to their "room", let's just say all the rumors you heard still weren't enough to prepare you.
Ran holds the door open wide, allowing you to step into their room first. However, you take not more than two steps into the dimly lit room before becoming rooted to the spot. Your head slowly pivots as you scan the... dungeon? Sex dungeon? Sex shop? Whatever it is, it sure as hell is not a bedroom. Not with the amount of toys, implements, freaky furniture and... machinery? You're not even sure if the large piece of furniture in the center of the room can be considered a bed. Perhaps it once was, with it's mattress and four posts, but certainly not anymore. Not when almost the entire perimeter is surrounded in black metal bars, almost like a cage. A series of chains and leather straps- more than you have fingers or toes to count them on- are attached at various points around the bars. And there are no sheets, at least not your average cotton or silk sheets. Instead the mattress is covered in some sort of slick, waterproof covering.
Oh dear Janna!
Eyes and mouth agape, you turn to Ran, only to find them watching you intently, the corner of their mouth ticking up ever so slightly. Amused by your reaction no doubt.
"Is- Is this your... bedroom?" you ask, clearly dumbfounded. When you receive a simple nod, you clarify the question, "Like, you actually sleep here?" This time you get a shrug of their shoulders, and you're not so sure you want to ask for clarification. Probably something about 'not much sleep happening here'. Taking another glance around the room you find yourself truly at a loss for words, or thoughts for that matter. "It looks... fun," you state dumbly.
"It is," Ran says quietly as they step past you.
You follow a few steps behind them, gawking at the vast collection of plugs lining a set of shelves you pass by. Every size imaginable. Every color. Every material. And then there's another set of matching shelves, housing just as vast of a variety of dildos and vibrators. Even more shelves, with a plethora of handcuffs, rope and other restraints, from which you notice Ran grabs a bundle of black rope. Yet another shelf- with all manner of gags, including a ball gag that you watch Ran also take.
Ran finally stops in front of a small table that holds what looks to be an electronic device in a storage box filled with... attachments? Ran picks up a long metal object that looks like a prod and plugs it into the device.
Gawd Ran's room is fucking hot. Literally and figuratively. It's creepy as hell, and yet you can't deny how much that excites you.
You can feel beads of sweat form at your temples, a blush creeping down your cheeks and across your neck.
Then Ran turns to you, toys and gadgets in hand.
You feel your heart skip a beat, taking in how their dark lips curl just a tad higher. You're certain that's a sign. You're in for something... wild tonight. And Ran's question only confirms that.
"Want to play?"
AN: For those of you who enjoy my work AND Ran, you can check out my Ran x fem!Reader oneshot on AO3 or here on Tumblr. 🖤
90 notes · View notes
n7punk · 8 months
Text
"the long way down" Fic Notes
TLWD is done now so I get to be a little insane about it. I’ve had meta about Outside of the War fics before, but this one… is certainly something Else, so I’ve enough to say to need the structure of a fic notes post.
Chapter 1:
⦁ Off the bat, the Mara thing: again, I’ve said this a couple times, but I don’t think her surviving in the portal is canon. I’m not sure what the timeline of the Heart going off and Mara moving Etheria was, much less what was up with the first version of the portal (something happened from what Razz said, but who knows it if it was the exact same thing), so it’s hard to say if she even would have gotten suspended like that in the first place. It was fun to write that fic, but I didn’t want to carry that continuity into this one. I wanted this idea to stand on its own and Mara being alive would have complicated the hell out of this. She would have known stuff, and either wanted or really not wanted to see the ruins of Eternia, and it just… would have been so many complications, especially if she didn’t go with them on that journey, because then they would have had to debate going back for her or not and…. Yeah it’s just Too Much.
⦁ The little italic preview (something I use so sparingly I think this might be my first time ever) at the beginning of the fic is obviously from the scene in chapter three, but cut down to size because again, sparing. It’s contextless here and half-context wouldn’t have served it.
⦁ It has come up a lot in my fics, but Adora being into cartography is something Aimee (her VA) mentioned at a con as like, a headcanon, and my brain immediately accepted that and went right that’s canon now lol. It just fits really well so it’s come up in my post-canon fics a lot as a hobby, but this is the first time it has been plot-important.
⦁ Catra getting jealous of paper is from a previous OotW fic, return from civility.
⦁ George and Lance literally have a 3D-projection star chart in their library that they show off in the season 2 finale, but the star charts Adora pulls out are very different from that because it’s a 2D inscription of flight paths between systems rather than a chart of constellations, so it wasn’t blatantly obvious what it was until they could start translating things with Adora’s help.
⦁ Let’s talk about the chapter art because you cannot imagine how much work that took! Like it’s stupid! I wanted essentially an “arrow” made from First Ones numbers pointing in the direction of Eternia. I went through a lot of rough drafts before I decided, for simplicity’s sake (my sanity) instead of it literally saying “One thousand four hundred and sixteen” it would say “1416” because god is that a lot to cram into a small space and stay readable, much less connected. I’m like 95% sure what I produced is correct by the guidelines of the language, but it’s a lot of lines to track, so if it’s wrong… I don’t want to hear it. Some details, though. The shadowy background compass has an “indent” in the center of it — that’s actually the letter E, standing for “Eternia,” in the First Ones’ script. Each of the numbers/words gets progressively smaller as it goes on, which isn’t in the rules, but in my opinion it makes it easier to read because you can intuit that you’re supposed to start at least one of the ends, and Clare approved, so I’m keeping it. (Yeah, if you know what post I’m talking about, I’ve been sitting on this fic idea that long. I wrote half the fic then and got distracted by shiny new things lmao). It was really hard picking colors for the image that would show up well on various site backgrounds, but in the end I decided it was impossible to accommodate for most skins, so I should focus on the two most-used ones instead and ended up with the blue and gray that show up decently on both the white and dark mode site skins. It’s not perfect on either, but it’s pretty good on both, and that’s the best I could ask for. I purposefully picked numbers that were one syllable so I didn’t have to deal with multiple syllable branches since making this image do what I want was already so much work lmao. I tried to figure out the words by myself first but I always double-check my First Ones script work with the translator on itch.io so thank you to whoever made that you have been a life-saver multiple times for me <3
⦁ I went back and forth on whether they’d be wives by the time of this one, and then I remembered it’s somewhere around two years post-canon and they’re lesbians. I think they probably got married shortly before leaving. I also stand by the idea of Glimbow getting engaged first but married way later (royal wedding nonsense, it came up in either "to make a home," or "her heart on her sleeve." Maybe both) and since they were getting married right after this trip, that would mean Catra and Adora are married.
⦁ Trolla is a planet in the MOTU. It’s where Orko is from… which means nothing to you if you haven’t watched the original He-man, but google an image of him, because somehow that exact character design pops up in so much shit. I’m pretty sure there’s a character like that in Kingdom Hearts, which means there’s also a character like that in Final Fantasy, but don’t quote me on that. I feel like he and Loo-Kee were pretty equivalent to me when I was a kid and Loo-Kee was at the end of every damn She-ra episode with his little “today’s moral” shtick.
Chapter 2:
⦁ Honestly, part of the reason Catra is wielding a staff in the cult scene is because I did all the research for the dolls and her accessory in that line was a staff. Which… okay sure, but she does use them in canon. Like twice. But it felt right here with the potential flashback stuff.
⦁ I made sure to include mention of the two moons originally shown around Eternia in my Children of the Crystal series. Just a little bit of consistency.
⦁ I thought about the… manufactured planet thing from Mass Effect Andromeda (listen, I haven’t played the game since it came out, I don’t really remember) while describing Eternia, and it got me thinking about how in sci-fi and stuff, structures like this are always in grayscale. They’re gray, or maybe white, but never like… yellow, and certainly not rainbow. The First Ones ruins we’ve seen have all been very colorful, so I thought a vibrant, rainbow planet, indicating life and art and culture, but still from this destructive society, would really be interesting.
⦁ The “ruins incident” is the impotence for a fic I’ve never written and probably never will but damn has that not stopped me thinking it through every few months. The timeline doesn’t even work out because that’s supposed to happen like five years after this but it’s mostly a reference for myself lmao.
⦁ I know Catra and Adora have “memes” personal to them dating back to their time in the Horde and still forming to this day, but I imagine Catra and Melog have their own jokes too that no one else has even the faintest idea about because it all happens in their heads.
⦁ Originally I explained it in the fic before I decided the Gatekeeper wouldn’t know it, but the reason there were only signs of evacuation deep inside was because part of Protocol Zero’s mandatory evacuation was evacuation tiers. It’s the highest threat level possible and that means everybody needs to leave and could clog the skies, making it impossible for anyone to really escape. There’s also bullshit prioritization of “well, these people deserve to get out more than others” so it's stratified to ensure some people (the most important) get out first. First in line was royalty and the highest ranks of the military (to coordinate rebuilding efforts once escaped), then the highest ranks of state-sponsored scientists and nobility, followed by the mid ranks of state-sponsors scientists and high rank state-sponsored artists, and then concurrently mid-level military, more scientists, and high-rank citizens. Finally, the rest of the artists and citizens (aka free-for-all tier).
⦁ The Citadel is a reference to Mass Effect.
⦁ A whole decade ago I saw a post on Tumblr claiming a “moment” used to be an actual measurement of time (roughly 90 seconds) that I never forgot and it turns out that was actually true (this was the era of Alexandria’s Genesis so you know… easily could have been bullshit I never bothered to google) so I threw it in in this fic as a fun fact about medieval sundial measurement.
⦁ Almost nothing works on the planet because it all ran on wireless power, and the transmission towers for that were completely destroyed by the Horde’s invasion. The Horde them pulverized everything else it could find, tracing down every last electrical signal or sign of life and snuffing it out. The only thing that survived were bugs that were hibernating underground or in the rare piece of plant life that wasn’t destroyed. Seeds in the earth also sprouted later, leaving those as the only survivors of the massacre. The Horde occupied Eternia for a while making sure nothing else would pop up, but eventually Prime was satisfied and got the fuck out of there, afraid of their integration of tech and magic and tired of losing clones to lingering mechanical boobytraps.
⦁ Okay the meta for Mara’s painting is that one of the quickest paths to state sponsorship was art depicting the planet. The Eternians really did view it as the ultimate art piece. Mara did something groundbreaking for her time and portrayed it as it originally was before all the terraforming. The establishment didn’t like that. Even worse, she used an ephemeral medium involving a mix of materials that would break down over time, and while it was good and above average, she was far from the most impressive artist that year alone. Mara really did think the transformation of Eternia was awe-inspiring at the time, but doubt set in after she was assigned to the brand-new (not even begun, really) colony on Etheria and started falling in love with its vibrant nature. Eternia still had plenty of it, but it was carefully cultivated through landscaping and terraforming. Ironically, it has become a lot closer to Etheria’s untamed state by the time of the fic, thanks to the lack of direct intervention and partially-damaged terraformers. (Side note: the terraforming system ran on its own network with a million safeties in place because, you know, if they ever shut off the path of the planet around the sun could permanently be altered from its irregular shape. It was Very Important they survive anything, and Horde Prime didn't try to destroy them while occupying it because he also needed it to not be flung into the sun)
⦁ Being a state-sponsored artist basically means you get a salary instead of living commission-to-commission, access to grant programs to create big pieces of art, essentially advertising and general public approval, and access to exclusive display locations, especially in architecture or high-traffic areas (think the mosaics they found). Mara wanted to try, so she applied to the symposium basically fresh out of high school with the plan that if it didn’t work out she would follow in her parent’s footsteps (military family) and join a colony exploration program. If she got approval or even just a grant she would go to art school, but, well, she didn’t. So she ended up training in military academy, bouncing around a few colonies, and then making her way to Commander rank and Etheria.
Chapter 3:
⦁ The “three workshops that they know about” thing is because Catra is sure Entrapta is hiding more questionable experiments from them in the walls. And she’s right.
⦁ The data crystal art says “Final log” on its front and “Distress” (as in, distress signal) in the background. I never really translate that in the fic but it was also going in the final chapter when the fic notes were about to be posted so I wasn’t too worried about it.
⦁ My idea for the crystal was that it would be really hard to find any logs of what happened because, well, everybody who would have made or kept those logs was dead and the Horde destroyed a lot of what they found. This was a transmission that was intercepted at long-range on this smaller mining planet and was basically a portent of their imminent doom to them, the Horde arriving shortly after they received it, leaving this as one of the few logs the Eternians managed to preserve.
⦁ I didn’t actually reference a data crystal from the show for my drawing, I just ran off my memory of what it looked like, so it’s probably a little off, but I thought that would actually fit with the “artistic representation” thing like the planet had. The downward slanting of the words (and especially the descending of the sounds in the word “Distress”) are a visual representation of the signal dropping off and the “long way down” metaphor.
⦁ I didn’t actually intend to have an illustration per chapter for this fic initially. It was just supposed to be the first one. I drew that all the way back in January/February when I first started working on this fic, but as I was describing Eternia, I was like… this would actually be fun to draw. And then it seemed weird to have a drawing for 2 out of 3 chapters, so I added the data crystal, and I like how that worked out since I got to do the “subtle” stuff (so subtle it needs to be explained lmao) with the distress signal in the background.
⦁ Yeah so what’s up with that metaphor, right? I don’t know. Like, okay, I kind of do, but basically that song latched onto this fic and then they fed off each other and I have NO idea why. Like, it fits, but it’s also like… why this. For the people who don’t listen to songs when fics link them (I’ll be honest, I rarely do, even though I discovered my favorite band in the world that way), “Long Way Down” is a song about going to hell. I think the specific story is supposed to reflect preachers and religious folk who espouse how everyone else is full of sin and going to hell, but really they’re just going to end up down there too (“I’ve been fucking around while you’ve been saving the world... from nothing”). It’s not a direct fit in that way, but in the hubris, where you think you’re giants but you’re actually going to fall like all the others? Yeah, seemed fitting for the First Ones.
⦁ Tellus is earth in Latin. Being that the originals are 80s cartoons, Earth is of course canon and there was a Christmas special set there. As I remember it, Earth was some #Isekai shit (okay not really but) where it was just the normal modern world and then He-man and She-ra showed up to take teens on adventures so Americans could teach them the true meaning of Christmas or something. I haven’t watched it since I was a very small child so I could be wrong. I got sidetracked. Yes Earth went kaput in this universe. Yes that had consequences. Yes he was saying “Commander Adam, signing off.”
⦁ Having just come off of CotC where I finally really went into my time travel headcanon… Yeah a lot of people knew this wasn’t going to end well. Honestly, when I initially planned this fic, I had this idea that Adora would touch the console and it would greet her as the lost princess — or even that she would find a recording from her lost twin brother — but either way she would find out that she probably came from the past. The problem was… that also doesn’t match my headcanon? (Refresher/If you didn’t read CotC: my headcanon is that since dimensional portals were cut off in Despondos, only time portals worked, so Light Hope pulled Adora through after spending a long time building one and trying to figure out where to open it to get her. This is why she popped out in the middle of a field: that’s just where she was physically located in the past.) My headcanon is that Adora was a regular child to settlers on Etheria when the Horde attacked and Light Hope eventually made the time portal and snatched her away before she could die. The system back home on Eternia probably wouldn’t recognize her as a random baby in the colonies, so it just didn’t track (especially the princess thing. That was something I thought about when I was first forming the headcanon in 2020, but it didn’t stick. Adora being “normal” is what made sense to me). I did consider having it be some thing where like, well maybe she was still born on Eternia or some major colony where she would be registered in the system, but honestly, that was all too definitive, and I liked the idea of it recognizing She-ra and them learning a little more about Mara.
⦁ Honestly, I don’t think Adora and Adam are even twins in this verse for me. I think cousins makes the most sense here (especially since he was like 20-30 in the recording and Adora would have been Very Small). If he were her sibling, that would make him some random twin she doesn’t know and never learns much about, but this way he’s still important to present Adora because his recording is the one that really made her accept what happened, and isn’t that the kind of thing that older siblings are supposed to do? Take care of their siblings, loving them and telling them the hard truths, through losing their family/home/way of life, etc? Idk, this somehow felt closer to the spirit of the OG canon than giving her a random twin that she didn’t know much about. Her finding a living twin who lives somewhere out in space didn’t feel like the spirit of this SPOP either (especially since they were expressly forbidden to even consider Adam/He-man), so we ended up here.
⦁ This is gonna sound weird but — canonically — I don’t think Adora has parents unless they make a movie. Like the time travel theory still makes sense to me, and if they ever made a movie I feel like finding her parents out in space would be an obvious plot point to get a bit more of a “happy ending” and tie up loose ends from the show, but like… I don’t think the show — in isolation — intends for them to be out there, and I think her not finding them is more tragic if they’re alive somewhere than the time travel thing where they’ve been gone for a thousand years so there’s no chance of recovery.
⦁ After some discussion with a Science Person I determined that it was possible for the DNA changes to be passed down in people who constantly produce sperm, and for people with eggs too if the process also affected the eggs inside of them (since they're only produced once). Also, magic bullshit is floating around helps and all of this is all theoretical anyway so I’m doing what I want lol.
⦁ Edit: Somehow I forgot to talk about this but. The First Ones. Yeah so, in this... I mean they are basically human. Their terraforming (and general tech) processes changed them into something distinguishable, but not all that different. After a thousand years, any First Ones that did survive the original genocide would have to have intermixed with humans to survive. The changes from terraforming would long be diluted and mutated away until humans really are all that's left. Catra's speculation about resettling an old colony planet is the best chance for them still existing, and like she said, they wouldn't even know that they're secretly picking up the genetic signatures of Eternians. I've never been sure if the First Ones are actually different from humans, or just a nationality, or perhaps an ancestor/divergent race from them (I think that question is purposefully left open-ended), so I did... this, which is kind of a combination. IDK, I just thought it was a cool possibility that would explain their humanness while still making them distinct in a (fairly) plausible way. The materials our modern world is made of are causing changes to our bodies (from lettuce insecticide in our blood to earlier hormone development) so something as extensive as terraforming would produce changes that could diverge them enough to be detectable. This leads to things like Adora's puberty being a bit different (unnaturally fast) and her alcohol tolerance being wild (I mean, that's something that varies between people already without a genetic splinter) but leaves her still - essentially - human. First Ones and humans started from the same place but splintered eventually. This isn't like some other things where it's my firm headcanon, but I do think it's a cool idea, so it was fun to do here and it both acts as another hint to the time travel possibility while also explaining how Adora could have parents and there could be "surviving First Ones" in the present. It wasn't part of the original plan for the fic, but I'm really glad it developed as I wrote because it's really interesting to me.
⦁ Catra is right about the cycle wearing on Adora, but it’s a little more than that: Adora could only convince herself to leave Eternia by turning her attention back to their mission, and the moment there was a real pause in it she realized that she didn’t want to keep doing this after all.
⦁ Adora will have questions for a while, and wonder about it occasionally, but she has kind of accepted that what really makes her happy is Etheria. She wishes she knew the answers, but not enough to abandon where she's actually happy and search for them. She doesn't want to fly for a year to some location in far space for answers, she wants her true family, and that's Catra and her friends.
Meta:
Compass art (1416)
Eternia art
Data crystal art
Upcoming:
Uhhhh I really don’t know right now? Could be a lot of things. My brain can’t settle on anything long enough to choose right now so it’ll probably be a week before I’m even sure enough to tell y’all. Check back here I guess lol
16 notes · View notes
scribbles97 · 6 months
Text
Left Behind - Chapter 49
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 Chapter 48 Read on Ao3
According to the nurse she had spoken to, Scott hadn’t moved from the floor outside the theatre since they had rushed Tia in. He was still in his blues, his hair and skin greyed out by the dust from the disaster site. Blood stained his arm from someone Lucy had seen him helping much earlier on in the day. 
“You’re no use to her sat out here dwelling.” She murmured as she approached him, only sparing the briefest glance to the double doors before returning her focus to the eldest boy.
He shook his head, lips pressed together in a thin line as he glanced up to her, “I screwed up Mom.”
Tutting, she sighed, “Well I’m too old to be getting down there, so come on, up you get.”
His eyes darted past her to the door, and she didn’t need to hear his protest to know that he didn’t want to leave. 
“The doctors will call as soon as she’s out.” She assured him, “You need a shower, and a coffee, minimum.”
He still hesitated. 
“She’s in good hands Scott.”
He shook his head again, hands rubbing through his hair sending a plume of dust up to dance in the fluorescence of the lights. 
“She told me she loves me.”
She didn’t need him to add the next part. 
“But I didn’t say anything back.”
With a sigh she reached down to his shoulder, shifting most of her weight through that arm she eased down next to him to sit on the hard lino floor. 
“I told you I’m too old for this.”
Scott scoffed, leaning over to rest his head on her shoulder, “Sorry.”
“Tell me about it?”
He shrugged, “What’s there to tell? Just before Virg moved her she called me back and said it and I just stood there like a goldfish.”
Tia had been out of it when she and Virgil had emerged from the hole, a combination of blood loss and a concussion he had told her at the time. Lucy had stayed with the pair through the short flight to the hospital, trusting Scott’s ability to fly whilst they focused on their patient. 
“Do you wish you had said something?” She offered, rubbing her thumb across the back of his glove as she rested her cheek against his hair. 
He had only seen Tia briefly she knew, a dash from the cockpit to the medbay as the doctors had swarmed the ship. The slightest of nods from Lucy and he had been away with the stretcher, desperate to keep up with what was happening to her. 
“I should have told her.” He whispered, “That I love her too.”
There had undoubtedly been other things in his head in the moment, bigger thoughts about her condition and getting her out of danger. If his reaction early on in the day was anything to go by, he had barely come to the realisation of his feelings. A disaster zone was hardly a suitable place to organise ones thoughts. Lucy was hardly surprised that he had stumbled at her comment. 
“I’m not just saying that.” He added, “I do mom. I really love her. How didn’t I see it sooner?”
She knew the feeling, had been dealing with the same kind of thoughts herself since she had woken up in the infirmary weeks ago. 
“The thought of losing her…” Scott trailed off with a shake of his head, “It’s like… just thinking about it leaves this gaping ache.”
“Love is a funny thing.” She murmured quietly, “I don’t think you can quite describe it, but if you’ve felt it, you know what it is.”
“I didn’t realise that was what it was.” He sighed heavily, “I thought it was just stress and the relief of getting it off of my chest.”
The comment was filed away for later, something to keep a close eye on in the coming weeks. Scott getting burned out with stress had always been her biggest fear, but she had always thought he had coped with it in his own way. 
She just hadn’t anticipated the methods used. 
It was easy to see how the two feelings could get confused though, how ranting and raving made everything feel better. Who was it that she always went to for those kinds of conversations though? Deep down, she knew there was only a real satisfaction of relief when she spoke to one person in particular on the topic. 
“But it’s not,” Scott continued, “It’s different. It’s not like when I talk to you or Virg about what’s on my mind.”
“I love her Mom.” He sighed with a shake of his head, “And I only just realised it, right as I might lose her.”
“She’s a strong woman.” Lucy whispered to him, “Have faith Kid, you’ll be able to tell her everything soon enough.”
She wasn’t sure if she would ever have the courage to voice her own feelings. 
“As always,” A warm voice commented from the door at the far end of the hall, “Your mother is undoubtedly right, Scott.” 
Lucy’s stomach twisted as she met his eye, her heart suddenly in her throat as she wondered just how much of the conversation the man with the cane had heard. 
“Hey Hugh,” Scott forced a tight smile, “I thought you were back in London this week?”
The older man shook his head, “Penelope has it all in hand, I had planned on surprising your mother until circumstances changed.”
She hoped the heat that rose in her cheeks would go unnoticed by them both. Hugh surprising her wasn’t an uncommon thing, and she certainly never complained about his visits. 
Except, recent conversations had her mind wandering elsewhere.
“Trust what she says kiddo,” He murmured holding his free hand out to Scott, “Swing by the relatives room, get a shower and some food. We’ll call you as soon as there’s any news.”
He glanced between them both, eyes young and wide, “You’re sure?”
“Promise Scotty.” She smiled, stroking his hair, “Go and get rid of this muck.”
He accepted Hugh’s hand up, looking down himself with a grimace as he stretched out. 
“Take your time, good lad.” Hugh murmured as he patted Scott’s shoulder, “The slightest news and we’ll call.”
Scott nodded, looking back to his mother and holding a hand out, “Thanks Mom.”
She accepted the help up, using the wall for support as her bad leg took a moment to wake up and catch her weight. Scott hugged her briefly before turning and heading away.
“So,” Hugh started as the doors swung shut behind him, “Kid’s in love, huh? Been there myself, know the feeling well.”
Avoiding his eye wasn’t an option, there was something that just drew her to him, left her unable to just ignore anything he said even if she wished she could. Both of them knew there was too much left unsaid. 
Hugh knew Jeff was coming home. 
She had told him as soon as she could. 
He had been enthusiastic on the holo-call, but the light hadn’t quite reached his eye. 
There was the same sort of sadness there then.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, a lump catching in her throat. It seemed like the only thing that there was to say, yet hardly felt like enough at the same time. 
He huffed with a shake of his head, “Don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” 
Except there was. She felt like there was so much to be sorry for. For drawing him in, accepting the company and the closeness. For letting him in but still keeping him at arms length without quite realising it. For falling in love when they were only ever meant to be friends. 
“Come here,” He murmured, holding his arm out to her. She hesitated, pursing her lips as she folded her arms around her torso, not trusting herself to go to him.
Hugh sighed again and nodded, dropping his arm as he did. 
“I understand.”
“Jeff-” She started, not trusting her voice to say any more. 
He swallowed visibly, “I know. I always knew that was where your heart truly lay.”
Clearing her throat, she blinked hard, not sure where the sudden swell of emotion that had tightened her chest had come from. 
“I’m still here for you though,” Hugh added, “I’ll always be here Luce.”
Something in her broke, snapping hard and sharp in her chest. His arm was held out again, and that time she didn’t hesitate in going to him and hiding herself in his chest. 
“I’m sorry.” She whispered again as he stroked her hair. 
“Me too Luce,” He sighed softly, “Me too.”
10 notes · View notes
mythaura-blog · 2 years
Text
Under New Management
Tumblr media
Hey all, Grif here!
Mythaura started out of a love for virtual pet games and the incredible sense of community that blossoms from them. It was always my goal to create something not only fun and visually wonderful, but someplace where people from all over the world can come together.
The last few years, I began to understand that my plans for Mythaura were starting to get further and further out of reach as my free time was something of a rarity. I realized that, to see the game released sooner, I would have to let it go. I’ve made the enormously difficult decision to hand Mythaura over to Koa. She has been coding on the project for a long time and is someone who knows Mythaura inside and out, since close to its inception. I whole-heartedly believe under Koa’s incredible leadership, the vision for Mythaura will be made into reality. I am very excited for the future of this project, and I really hope the community still is too! I want to thank everybody who has supported me and my vision for the game. Without the amazing encouragement of the community on tumblr and discord, Mythaura would not have ever lifted off the ground. Thank you to past Patreon supporters who kickstarted development for the game, your faith in the project means the absolute world to me. I hope Mythaura will be everything you wanted and more. I will still aim to be active in the community however if you need to get into contact with me,  please feel free to message me on Discord (Grif#1760) or please send an email to [email protected]
---
Hello Mythaura, Koa here now to bring you the rest of the update!
First off, I want to extend my gratitude to Grif for everything she has given to the game. These last few years have been some of the most difficult in memory for so many people, and she has been committed to the success of Mythaura through all of it. Mythaura could not have gotten this far or have captivated so many people without her dedication and talent and I am honored to have the opportunity to carry the torch past the finish line.
As part of the immediate move, there will be some downtime as the domain and server are transferred and re-delegated. Rest assured we will have it back up as soon as possible. This downtime may last several days but when it is up again, there will no longer be a security certificate error when you access the site.
Introducing the New Owners
Koa and Sark are a married couple who love to code together. We’ve worked on numerous projects together and have a passion for gaming and all things nerdy.
Koa (she/her) - Full Stack developer with an emphasis in PHP & Laravel. She has developed with other pet sim games in all stages of release, including building one from the ground up. Koa is also a seasoned artist, and has the flexibility to work both on art assets and code development.
Sark (he/him) - Front End developer with an emphasis in User Experience and UI. Sark is a professional UI developer and plans to bring nearly ten years of his expertise to Mythaura to ensure we deliver an amazing user experience on both mobile and desktop.
State of the Game Right Now
The art assets are mostly complete. We also have already talked with previous artists and intend to retain them in order to finish out the remaining art assets.
The amount of code work still needed is substantial. It will be some time before we have an idea of when we can transition into a beta release but we do hope to provide a development roadmap in the coming months so you guys can follow along as we develop the game. While we will be dedicating as much spare time as we can to Mythaura, both the new owners are employed full time and working on this during evenings and weekends as a passion project. This will be a marathon, not a race, but we are in it for the long haul and hope you will stick around for the ride too!
Rain or shine, development updates will be posted to social media once a month.
Patreon & Closing Notes
Patreon will not be reopening at this time. We are funding the completion of Mythaura out of pocket and want to focus all of our attention on building the much needed code infrastructure. There will be opportunities in the future for you to contribute and help, so keep an eye on our monthly updates for ways to get involved. 
A big thank you to all of you who have been sticking with us this whole time. We will be keeping an active presence on discord and invite anyone interested in following the project to join the official channel using this invite link: https://discord.gg/hdcp3V9Ts6.
164 notes · View notes
gemkun · 1 month
Text
@ephemyrals said : ❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜ (aven to ratio) ↬ &. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
      ⸻       ❝   stop   talking.   ❞   deft   hands   make   light   work   ,   methodically   suturing   the   gash   before   it   proceeds   to   weep   again.   fortunately   ,   under   his   specialised   management   ,   it   will   hardly   scar.   ❝   you’ll   exacerbate   the   wound.   ❞   his   eyes   remain   trained   on   his   task   at   hand   ,   though   his   voice   glares   at   the   avgin   all   the   same.   without   a   word   of   warning   ,   this   liability   may   very   well   bleed   out   in   the   next   system   hour.    
  irate   ,   his   gripe   is   verbalised   ,   but   a   poised   calm   spares   the   soldier   of   genuine   fury   from   the   doctor.   ❝   how   is   it   that   after   every   deployment   you   wind   up   in   my   clinic   time   and   time   again   ?   ❞   rhetorical   ,   perhaps   ,   is   his   question.   he   sets   the   needle   aside   ,   dismissing   his   previous   enquiry   to   instead   inspect   the   surgical   site.   before   moving   to   pluck   cotton   with   forceps   ,   doused   in   a   common   antiseptic.   ❝   do   you   make   it   your   goal   to   become   deliberately   injured   on   the   battlefield   ?   ❞   there   is   a   sting   ,   no   doubt   ,   brought   by   the   introduction   of   alcohol.   but   it   is   a   speck   compared   to   the   provocation.   and   veritas   wears   his   realisation   —   averting   gaze   momentarily   ,   as   he   casts   his   gaze   to   the   tray   littered   in   instruments   by   his   side.
Tumblr media
  ❝   .   .   .   ❞
  retrieving   gauze   ,   concentration   applies   the   finishing   touches   and   the   medic   leans   away   ,   to   survey   his   attended   client.   ❝   there.   ❞   he   murmurs   ,   in   what   could   be   argued   as   satisfied   ,   whether   with   his   work   or   the   state   of   the   patient   ,   remains   yet   to   be   seen.   with   a   firm   press   ,   he   clips   the   ends   of   fabric.   ❝   you   should   know   the   drill   by   now   —   avoid   additional   stresses   on   the   area   or   at   the   very   least   ,   attempt   to   refrain   from   the   next   mission.   if   you   require   it   ,   i   can   fill   out   a   form   that   will   grant   you   exemption.   ❞   the   form   he   speaks   of   ,   is   gestured   to   upon   his   immaculate   bench.   organised   in   a   fashion   many   would   envy.
  ❝   i   will   also   be   supplying   you   with   analgesics   should   the   pain   worsen.   it   will   last   no   more   than   three   days.   ❞   off   a   clipboard   it   flies   ,   and   the   sigonian   finds   purchase   in   a   slip   as   promised.   gifting   him   with   a   prescription   ,   written   in   impeccable   print.   ❝   should   you   need   a   refill   —   ❞   flitting   ,   his   focus   dawns   on   the   male.   drawing   the   sunrise   and   the   sunset   to   clash.   eclipsing   in   mutual   comprehension.
  ❝   —   you   know   where   to   find   me.   ❞
2 notes · View notes
effectsdatabase · 11 months
Text
20 years of Effects Database!
20 years ago I started a little site called "DiscoFreq's Envelope Filter site" as there were no overviews listing more than 20 envelope filters. After the envelope filters, I added other types of filters (including synth modules), then octavers, ring modulators, vocoders, talkboxes, fuzz pedals, phasers, flangers,... until I decided to add ALL pedals, including the hundreds and hundreds of distortion and overdrive pedals. From the beginning, it was very important to me to include all the small builders, a lot of which only had a presence on eBay and forums like Harmony-Central.
A lot of those early brands disappeared and many of the "big" brands now didn't even exist yet. I've seen several "waves" of pedal builders since (the next one was in 2007-2008, "helped" by the financial crisis at the time), a lot of Musikmesse (RIP) and NAMM shows and a lot of other changes (YouTube didn't exist in 2003).
I can't really make a big celebration of this anniversary right now as the last few years I had to slow down (divorce, moving a few times, evening course,...) and focus on keeping the site running, adding the new videos,... I did see the new brands and pedals and added many hundreds of each in a queue, but I couldn't keep up adding them. I'd like to catch up again soon and finally give the site a big overhaul as well (there were previous attempts, but no results...).
I always had lots of plans and ideas, some of which have since been done by others like a similar site about synth modules, a system to "switch" pedals on/off in audio demos (working prototype for about 10 years),... As I did it all on my own and in my spare time with very limited resources, I didn't really manage to add everything I want/wanted. I had lots of work just to keep it running and growing in the existing format, so I'm still interested in help from others, this really should be a community effort. Help is very welcome with content, development (also for a related Raspberry Pi idea I have for years!) and sponsorships/advertisers (currently carrying a big part of the costs myself).
That way I hope we can add many more years to this site and celebrate the next big birthday
Cheers!
  Bart / DiscoFreq
read more
from Effects Database https://bit.ly/3BTEEfY
8 notes · View notes
evenmorestress · 2 years
Text
A TFA OC writing game!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Deathworld- A Collaborative “Choose Your Own Adventure” Style Fanfic
I’ve been wanting to write something with the setting I designed a long time ago for my roleplaying game days. Why not let everyone take part and make it a writing game?
I write a base, you fill in prompts! Like a free writing Choose Your Own Adventure game. In the end, we can watch how one story changes from person to person.
The Concept/Plot:
Trapped after a catastrophic shipwreck, your OC finds themselves to be the only survivor of the crash. Quickly jumping from the frying pan and into the almost literal fire, they are saved by a minibot named Sandcrest. With their new guide, they must find a way home before the death world snuffs yet another spark.
That’s right folks, we are going robot cowboys.
[Rules and actual story beneath the keep reading!]
Tumblr media
Our Rules:
It’s essentially a more freeform method of “Choose your own Adventure”
Within the story, anything I put in bold is something you replace with the relevant prompt. So “OC” would be the name of your character, while “[Prompt]” would be an entire segment where you write based on the prompt given.
You can change any bits you want really, so long as the spirit of it remains the same. I need a beginning and end that lands on the same note, otherwise I can’t write future chapters if people decide they had fun
Be sure to tag it “#TFWritingWithStress” so we can all find it and everyone can see your amazing characters!
If you had fun, spread it around! Or even drop me (EvenMoreStress) some constructive criticism if you think of ways I can improve the format.
So, let’s get started!
Tumblr media
The Deathworld, by EvenMoreStress and Others
A collaborative transformers animated fanfiction, link to the google doc
A voice echoes in the distant shadows. It grows louder as white floods OC’s vision. Static filled diagnostics overtake their HUD, which are swept away by the sudden surge of light, sound, and heat. A wince wracks their frame but a muddled processor narrows in on the shadow above. Specifically, a face that is quickly coming into focus. 
A young minibot stands over OC. Short but sturdy, the tan mech is bouncing from pede to pede in a nervous jig. The poncho across his shoulders sways wildly in the searing wind. 
“Hey!” He says again. “Get up! You gotta get up if you don’t wanna die here!”
That quickly snaps the world back into focus. OC jolts up, pain lashing through their helm. The agony is enough to bring the world into sharp detail. It’s carnage.
A ship, OC’s ship, is in ruins. Nothing remains, all of it scattered across an endless desert. Not even a spare bolt is left undamaged. What could be salvaged quickly sinks beneath the swirling sands. 
In an instant, it all comes back to them.
[For this section, write how your OC had their ship end up crashing on Varmego 7, a little known death world covered in scorching deserts, near bottomless canyons, and vicious megafauna. It’s hot enough to melt circuitry during the day and cold enough to freeze energon lines at night.  The crash can have happened however you want, but your OC will be the only survivor if they were traveling with others.
If your character IS the ship, you can make overall adjustments as needed but it won't be as easy as flying off planet (the story can't continue otherwise)]
OC snaps back to the present as an increasingly panicked minibot smacks their cheek.
“Come on, we gotta go NOW!” The Minibot spins around, “We only got a few minutes before the dead pits swallow everything. So if you’re not hurt then get up!”
The mech takes off- bouncing between sinking chunks of wreckage. Even his minimal weight pushes each debris born foothold further into the gritty mire.
[For this section, narrate how your OC gets out of the crash site. If they step or fall into the sand then they will immediately start to sink as the ship has crashed right into a giant pit of quicksand. They are surrounded by the sinking ruins of the ship, their only safe footholds in the pit. The Minibot, Sandcrest, will already be tensely waiting at the edge of the danger zone when your OC finishes unless they need help
If your OC is the ship, then other parts of the story can be adjusted. The footholds can be debris from a rockslide caused by crashing against the nearby canyon instead.]
The minibot only relaxes once both of them are on relatively safe ground.
“Primus, that was close. Now,” he turns to look at OC, “No one ever survives crashing here! Who the frag are you?”
[Have your OC introduce themself however they want. Any mentions of rank or faction are met with an unimpressed look from Sandcrest.]
“I’m never going to remember that. So I’m gonna call you Survivor.” Smiling, the strange mini introduces himself, “I’m Sandcrest, a scavenger for Sanctuary City. I can bring you back with me, if you want? Not that you have much of a choice.” He looks at the final piece of wreckage sinking under the quicksand , “It's the only settlement in the star system. Only settlement in this sector of the galaxy, actually.”
Sandcrest is waiting for a response when a noise catches both of their attention. OC looks back at the metallic groan that echoes from the sand pit. They spot a distinct sparking from the final piece of ship as it disappears beneath the liquified dunes.
“Oh.” Sandcrest whispers, “That can’t be good.”
Seconds later, the pit explodes.
The desert lurches under them as the glitching engine overclocks, energy core exploding as it’s snuffed by grit and silt. Tons of stone and sand rain down on the two mecha, leaving them scrambling for cover. The small mech beside them loses his footing and tumbles backwards.
[Put in how your OC reacts to the impromptu earthquake. You can also put in how they feel about any hope they had of recovering something now going up in literal flames]
“Oh no… Oh, that’s really bad!”
OC looks down at the panicking Minibot. Sandcrest struggles to his feet and scrambles up the nearest sand dune. OC trudges up behind him, peering over the small Cybertronian’s helm. The sands shift a short distance away, splitting in half a dozen spots like the wake of a boat in the ocean. All beeline straight for the two mechs standing on the dune.
Sandcrest throws out an arm, grasping whatever of OC’s plating he can reach. “Don’t. Move. No matter how close they get, don’t move.”
The panic in the minibot’s voice is enough to catch OC’s attention. The waves get closer and closer. Grinding earth and scraping claws reach their audials, growing louder with each meter of ground the hidden creatures eat up. The surface parts, a ridged spine breaks through as the body beneath rises.
It vanishes with the powerful swing of a stinger tipped tail.
The waves disappear as the sand swimming monster dives deeper, ground sifting below their pedes as it passes them by. Moving at a snail’s pace, Sandcrest removes something from his subspace. As his hand emerges from the shadows of his Poncho, OC spots a grenade unlike any they’ve ever seen. Formed from a long pipe with a weighted spike on one end, it's ramshackle in its design. As if built from wayward scrap and wires.
The minibot grips it on either end. “When I give the signal, run and don’t stop until we reach the stone plateau.” Sandcrest juts out his chin, pointing towards a flat red expanse in the distance. He gives OC one last glance. “And DON’T look back. It’ll slow you down.”
He twists his closed fists. The object clicks then begins to loudly tick. With an admittedly impressive throw, Sandcrest launches the object several hundred paces to their left. It smashes point first deep into the ground. The minibot braces.
The grenade splits apart with a POP and starts to shake, sending vibrations deep into the dune. Half a dozen slipstreams burst to life around them, going straight for the trembling object.
“NOW!” Sandcrest leaps into his own alt, a small dune buggy that bounds across the loose terrain.
[Put in here how your OC reaches the safe zone, a large expanse of red stone in the distance. Your oc will get about a fourth of the way until they realize the creatures in the sand have eaten the grenade and are now splitting between going after them and Sandcrest. Your oc can use whatever skills they have to avoid them- be it combat, mobility, or anything in between. I won’t limit how you decide to play this. If you want an additional threat, you can bring in the factor of sand and how hard it can be to walk or drive on it. The intense heat may also be an issue for some flight frames. The creatures are about as large as a midsize car, with long snake-like bodies broken up by dozens of short but powerful legs. They don’t have any special skills when it comes to combat aside from biting, clawing, and leaping up from the sands below to try and drag their prey beneath the surface.]
The creatures break away the moment OC crosses the line between sand and stone. A jarring change in terrain, pedes slip and slide across the glass like surface.
Sandcrest transforms to root mode in a flailing sprawl of tumbling limbs. Finally rolling to a stop on his front, he jerks his head up. A ridged head emerges to peer over the plateau’s edge. Reptilian eyes stare them down a long moment before sinking back into the grainy abyss.
[Any reactions to the above or additional thoughts towards the situation]
A shaky burst of air leaves Sandcrest’s taxed vents. He looks over to OC, admitting, “I swear those things are sapient sometimes. We should be safe for now, though. They can’t swim through stone. Are you ok?”
[If OC is injured, Sandcrest will offer them a small medkit. It's as barebones as it can get with only a glitchy welder, some patches, chips of a crystal eerily similar to energon, and a bottle of coolant labeled “Only use when about to fragging die!!!!” Sandcrest will help if needed but otherwise will let them do it on their own while he takes stock of his own supplies and their location on a 3D projected map]
Sandcrest drags himself up, shaking grit from his poncho. “Let’s get going then. We have a few more hours of sunlight, then the real scary stuff comes out!”
The minibot does a quick check of the sun then begins the arduous trek across the wavering desert.
[Any last moments of introspection or actions for your oc, as a chapter 2 may come at a later date if folks want it]
17 notes · View notes
pinkopalina · 2 years
Note
I keep thinking about robostone maintenence hrrggrgrghhh Robotnik sticking his fingers into places they really shouldn't be if Stone were a regular human. Arghh my brain isn't giving me any good ideas man. But I keep thinking about Robotnik running his fingers over Stone's skin, pushing hidden buttons to reset joints and test connections. Stone pretends to be calm about it, it's just his routine maintenance- but the excitement he gets from feeling the doctors hands all over him and poking at little spots that could literally undo him- the little shocks through his system as the doctor tweaks at his internal cabling-
ugh I love all of this!! :3
now imagine stone actually sustaining like some serious damage in a fight. like he's not a fighter, but he is a protector. even if the doctor is more well trained than he is, he can still toss a bad guy (hehe, what is stone's idea of a bad guy?) or turn their own weapon against them so he and robotnik can get away.
readmore for gore. I mean cybergore but stone is still my baby and I'm still talking (somewhat) medical here 🥺
I'm imagining some nasty slash on stone's arm and the only way to fix it would be for robotnik to go into surgical mode, more or less. the robotics are so organically advanced, that they heal like humans. it takes time and stone probably won't die from his injuries, the worst case scenario would probably be that robotnik has all his data backed up daily just in case and maybe he has some spare stone parts lying around or like entire shells, just in case. wouldn't that be fun? but this arm is gushing out blood-adjacent oxygenated lubricant and some of the mechano-muscular-skeletal structure is compromised so we gotta focus on saving that now.
(I'm imagining eggman in kind of, that mechanic outfit, where he's just got a tank top on and some overalls tied off at the waist? if he's doing some repair work? 🤤👉👈)
so stone holds his arm out for the doctor to start operating and he COULD feel pain during this whole process. but robotnik presses on a combination of pressure points on stones body (one under the jaw, one at the base of his neck, one near the palm to specify the location. it's a u ique sequence every time, depending on what he needs to turn off. or on. hehe) to turn the pain receptors off. ("you'd be squirming constantly otherwise.")
when the pain receptors are off, stone can still... feel a little bit of what's going on, but in a way he can't entirely describe or compare to anything else. the doctor pushes back his nicely flushed skin mesh, beautiful next to the site of the wound. it's tan compared to the almost-sickly pale translucence of ivo's hands, but stone is working on getting the proper nutrition in him!!! he'll be a healthy color before either of them knows it!
stone winces, the doctor had moved aside some of the torn tendon to start repairing it. it didn't, hurt, but it. felt. robotnik reconnects the joints and sews up the pieces that had been sliced--and then he sews the last bit of his outermost layer of skin up and it starts nearly immediately repairing itself, little manmade bots and programs working themselves inside of stone to get him functioning back at 100%. by tomorrow morning the sutures will be invisible, nonexistent, and nobody would have ever known about the slash on stone's arm.
the doctor presses all those buttons in reverse sequence to turn on all of stone's regularly functioning processes again--and maybe, accidentally, some additional ones, too--and then. I'm corny. robotnik loves all his inventions. stone can have a little kiss on his temple as a treat. robotnik would give him a quick peck and then tell him to get back to work before getting ready to take a shower to get all that blood and sweat off of him.
4 notes · View notes
astridstorm · 10 months
Text
The Binding of Isaac: Three Traditions, with Surprising Agreement (and: On Preparing for a Trip to the Holy Land)
For an audio version of this sermon, click here. (At ten minutes, it’s a tad longer than my usual, but bear with me!)
Tumblr media
(Our pilgrims on the Temple Mount in front of the Dome of the Rock)
Good morning on this lengthy (and a bit rainy) Fourth of July Weekend. I’ll say a prayer for our national life shortly, at the prayers of the people.
This coming week our Holy Land Pilgrims will set out on our twelve-day journey to Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Galilee, Jericho, the Dead Sea and Judean desert. So Mo. Eliza and I will be away for the next two Sundays with that group; Father Dan Heischman has kindly agreed to cover, and I know he’s looking forward to seeing you again. 
Our schedule of Sunday readings has this funny way of giving us this story from Genesis, of Abraham nearly sacrificing his son Isaac, right here at the beginning of the summer. Our Jewish friends read this in the fall during their high holy days. In Islam, it’s the focus of their second holiest day of the year, which (in fact) they celebrated last week.
Perhaps it says something about us Christians that we slip this story in when attendance begins to drop, and even then there’s an alternative reading that we can choose if we want. 
I. Didn’t. Want.
I love this story. In fact, the pilgrims next Saturday will visit the site where it happened. This rock, on Mt. Moriah, where Abraham bound his son Isaac, is now housed within the Dome of “the Rock,” a Muslim shrine built over it in the 7th century. Before that shrine existed, it was the site of the Jewish Temple, the holiest site in ancient Judaism. Going all the way back to the beginning, to Genesis chapter 1, legend says this is where God gathered up a handful of dust, and created the first human being, Adam, from the word “Adamah” meaning dirt, or earth.
I wonder if there’s any place in this world quite as complicated and storied as this place.
 Or any story quite as complicated as this.
[It’s said to be some of the best writing in the ancient world. Its genius is in how spare it is, as if to say, Just try to interpret me. The author’s withholding of pretty much every detail you want as a reader (some word from Isaac, some inner thought of Abraham’s, some motive on God’s part -- anything) has led to much wonderful speculation and filling in the gaps.
Let me give you one example, from the famous medieval Jewish scholar, Rashi. He puts words in the mouth of silent Abraham, because Abraham’s silence at God’s command has always been one of the most upsetting parts of this story. But Rashi takes that and even seems to have a little fun giving Abraham a voice.
Here’s what he wrote. God’s words are what’s exactly in the Bible. Abraham’s, Rashi added. (And remember Abraham had two sons, Isaac and Ishmael, from two different mothers.)
God said [to Abraham], Your son.
Abraham said to Him, “I have two sons.”
God said to him, “Your only one.”
Abraham said, “This one is an only one to his mother and this one is an only one to his mother.”
God said to him, “Whom you love.”
Abraham said to him, “I love both of them.”
God said to him, “Isaac.”
Isn’t that amazing? He must have been having some fun with this. My husband yesterday reminded me that Bob Dylan also did a “midrash” (that is, creative interpretation) of this story--it starts off his song Hwy 61. But I’ll save that for the next time I preach this. 
The story in the Bible is brief, spare. One day God tells Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac. Abraham, without a word, gathers up two of his servants, some wood, and his son, Isaac, and they begin their journey to Mt. Moriah. As they draw close to the place of sacrifice, he leaves the two servants behind and continues with only his son.
If you follow the Bible story literally, that Sarah was 90 years old when she gave birth to Isaac (and notice I said IF you follow it literally!), then Isaac in this story would have been 37 years old. Most of us picture a much younger man, a boy even. His few words make him seem too young to understand, and it takes him well into the journey to start to wonder What’s going on, to ask Where the lamb for the burnt offering is. 
 Finally Abraham, when they reach their destination, wordlessly binds his son and places him on the makeshift altar, the rock. Then, just as he lifts his knife in the air, an angel calls out to him to stop, a ram appears in a nearby thicket, a substitute sacrifice, and Isaac is spared.
-----
Three faiths share this story. There are so many views within each faith on what it means that if you lay them all out you can actually find points of agreement all over the place, one faith with the next: Muslim with Christian; Christian with Jew; Muslim with Jew; Muslim Christian and Jew. It’s not as easy as saying every faith has a different interpretation. I used to think that, but over the years in digging more deeply into this story I’ve come to see it’s not that simple. 
There’s the version, maybe best known to us Christians and shared with Muslims, that Abraham was a man of faith for being willing to follow a command as difficult (seeming impossible) as this. And yet he stood prepared to do it, if and when called upon. 
There’s the version, shared by Jews and some Christians, that God’s test to Abraham wasn’t to see if he *would* agree to this command, but to see if he would reject it. God wanted Abraham to refuse, to push back. Abraham failed the test. In the Bible story, the two (Abraham and God) never speak again. Neither do Abraham and Isaac. Let that be a lesson to you fathers :)
There’s the version, shared by Jews, Christians, and some Muslims as well, that what this story is really about is an advancement towards a more ethical way of life, God ruling out once for all an ancient practice of child sacrifice. 
Jews and Muslims, with different motives and conclusions, have suggested that the son in the story wasn’t Isaac at all, but actually Abraham’s other son, Ishmael.
I think back to the site on which this rock stands, which some of us will see in just a few days. Picture it: gold dome of Islam, which stands atop the holiest site of ancient Judaism, the Temple, and was also once a site of a Byzantine Church--I left that one out earlier--and these all built up over (as legend says) the singular patch of dirt that God used to make us all.
If it’s not exactly an ecumenical story, promoting unity and fellow feeling among our three faiths, it should be. This is one of the best-written stories in the Bible and all the world, and what makes it so is that it (like the parables of Jesus) refuses to be confined to one reading, to one group of people, one faith even. It can be debated endlessly and one will always find something to disagree about, but also plenty of common ground. We need both of those, agreement and disagreement, to be in healthy relationships with one another. And whoever first set down this story, got that. 
So - if you’re not going on this trip to the Holy Land, please let me put you on the list for the next. I wish everyone in this parish could, at some point, stand there on that Temple Mount near this very spot, and reflect not on the bizarre divisions that most see when there, but on what we all share, in common.
0 notes
elaichoi · 9 months
Note
tw: bit of discussion on mental health [diagnoses]; talks of depression/major depressive disorder, [social] anxiety, panic disorder, mention of agoraphobia, god idek tbh im sorry
YES LOL THEY WERE ANNOYING TO DO BUT $5 GIFTCARDS N SHIT ^_^ nooo i almost never did the surveys cus i get random emails and thats annoying and they also take forever,, so i only did the ones where u have to download whatever app (usually a game) they tell u to, use it for x amt of seconds/minutes (i forget) and u go back to the app and it gives u points or whatever that u redeem for giftcards! that's how i got superimpose actually 😭 edit tutorial accs would promote their code for that app/site (i don't remember what its called im not gatekeeping i swear) bc using their code gives both u and them extra points,,, and i wanted superimpose so i gave it a try and well what do u know 🥰🥰
my mental health story is kind of long and redundant and not that exciting so i shall spare u,,, well actually i rewrote this 383299 times bc i ended up trauma dumping i think... so um basics i got depressed my freshman yr of highschool, time skip- got diagnosed w depression, generalized anxiety disorder & agoraphobia, which the agoraphobia turned to be a misdiagnosis and i went somewhere else and got rediagnosed w panic disorder. child of a generational trauma that my asian parents do not think exist🫶 i alr knew a lot (90%) of my anxiety was social anxiety but i did not receive that diagnosis until this year. i lost my panic disorder diagnosis yay! andddd also got a diagnosis for major depressive disorder which was kind of an 'ohhhh' moment for me bc a lot of times i felt like antidepressants made me a lot better i felt cured lmfao i was hardly ever depressed,, except i sometimes get depressive episodes and im still struggling w the symptoms of depression that is not depression itself...if that makes sense...those symptoms being memory issues!! quick act surprised!! focus issues, i procrastinate a lot now.... which is important bc before all of this i was a very.. is high-functioning the right term? i genuinely dk if that's a term im supposed to be using,, but basically i was like top of the class student, always on-time and organized, never procrastinated, always remembered everything, i guess kinda type A personality lmao,,,, and now i am not 😃
im probably forgetting some other key stuffs but its okie,,,,, probably irrelevant but ive always been a fairytale hopeless romantic except a dumb long-term relationship got thrown into the middle and peak of my mental health mess (who told me that was a good idea 👺) has made me v antiromantic if u will 💀💀 i girlbossed myself into thinking im wise emotionally but i honestly am v v naive and sensitive and i will be a crybaby if snri's allow me to at that moment 👍
i used to be v smart but im kinda v dumb now but im also kinda trying to get back up again bc i feel? like im slowly improving in general? idk tbh,,, idk what im doing 😁
erm im v sorry this was very mentally unseggsy of me 😗 can u tell i have no concept of oversharing im so sorry for clogging your feed, qiwis followers pls forgive 🙇‍♀️
wbu? same question u asked me on mental health n cognitive functions ^^ only if ur comfortable answering ofc!
i think u could do it if u rlly wanted to, again u talent/hobby vacuum 👺 /j maybe like for blog milestone or something would be an excuse for a one-time video edit then you wouldn't have to continue if u don't want to ? hmm
whenever i didn't have ideas i would like choose a specific edit i rlly liked and use the same audio and like ""recreate"" it (not to post, its just for me & practice purposes lol). like the editor wouldve already split the audio for transitions and stuff so you can split your audio according to the transitions in their edit and add ur own clips over top. u can try to imitate their transitions or do ur own or whatever. i like doing that to practice bc it gives me somewhere to start! idk that's what worked for me personally,, just an idea for if u ever feel up for it no pressure!!
i don't think i could get into the video editing scene again bc i would want to progress to be a good editor and be confident ab my edits but capcut makes me insecure lol bc if everybody can do it then why should i take the time to grow and progress 😗 (that makes me sound like a pick me but again.. its similar to like ai replacing real working humans yk..😭😭)
my relationship ramble thingy ^ means that i also i love angst and making myself cry 😍😍🫦🫰 crack anything is 1000% your brand ‼️
omg yea real life inspo for ur reincanation aus ☺️ ehehe BUT YAY I LOOK FORWARD TO UR REPLIES SM HAVE UR NOTIFS ON LOLL i love talking to u! <3 consentual kisses! ^_^
wait....did we get engaged and/or married here,,,,,,,, on ur nsfw acct FJDJSK😭💀
oh my god i never tried that but i think there were some apps fr that were like ah yes get this free version and then watch a few ads and get one or two watermark free edits per day. BROOO THSI BRINGS BACK SO SO SO MANY MEMORIES!! (i think i rarely did that bc i was one lazy mf also vindictive so i did what i could to work with free apps)
life really tossed you like a salad damn baby I'm sorry you had to go through all that LIKE YOU COULDN'T CATCH A BREAK oh my god bro it seems like you kinda burned out? if that makes sense? because im sure a lot of things were expected of you ( asian parents here too also BRO THEY DONT think trauma EXISTS!) im glad you're getting better bit by bit HERE'S TO GETTING EVEN BETTER IN THE UPCOMING DAYS!!! we will kick mental illness's ass together lmao!
tbh third world country so never really got diagnosed properly but like most of my time i was suffering from. depression i was gaslit into thinking I'm just being whiny and uts not depression and because of this i developed repressive emotions where NOW it's my own turn where i refuse to acknowledge any kind of shit that happened to me like theres a sense of embarrassment where i can't like outright say like yeah this, and this happened to me because I don't anyone's "pity" and some huge ass shit happened to my family which made me haha something i cant say on here but im like over that now ( lol i need to go therapist for this) but yeah OH and I get the depressive episodes because i get that too oh my god like for weeks but my best friend once gave me, like just feel the emotions and let it pass like sure it will feel like a tractor running u over but it will get over and then one day you will take that shower and brush ur hair and feel a lil better!!!!
ooh but LIKE TUMBLR video platform sucks ass but i really like the idea omg i will think it through!!!
BRO NO WAY CAUSE I DID THAT TOO BUT LIKE WITH edits lmao but you're so freaking TALENTED DO YOU KNOW THAT?! i will have to try it I think with all thr tiktok edit trends now it's become easier to do those things i actualky tried to do some of it for my friends bday and it's coming up again so ill have to try!!!
okay but even if capcut exists which I think in a way is kind of good for people who loved editing but couldn't edit bc they couldn't work with, or afford fancy softwares yk but you can't deny the polishness that alight motion or vs will give you. you can't outdo the doer 💅🏼💅🏼 so you really should give it a try!!
you're SO SWEET I LOOK FORWARD SM TO YOUR ANONS TOO LIKE I ONLY COME HERE TO CHECK FOR YOUR ANONS LMAO i love talking to you too 🤭🤭
we're already married,, yes on nsfw kinda on theme don't you think so??
0 notes
preppernewstoday · 2 years
Text
A Short Introduction A 1994 copy of Wired magazine contained a full-page illustration of Marc Thorpe, showing a radio-controlled tank and a chainsaw attached to its top. It was an advertisement for Robot Wars, which later became the BattleBots TV show you are probably familiar with. I thought, "I am made for this!" and went on to win many trophies. It's not bad for a software engineer. I found a Remote Area Medical DVD (RAM) while browsing DVDs in a local thrift shop last year. The one I bought was made in 2013. After spending just a dollar, and then spending 90 minutes of my time, I thought again after 27 years. Here's how I turned that desire into reality. Belmont, Nevada Every few years, I visit a hunting camp. It's very remote. It is impossible to get cell service, so I a can read b and listen to podcasts. I've found that I can hear stations from the east coast if I use the 1/4-wave antenna. This was again proven when I was listening to an old sermon from Dr. Gene Scott on WWZR, GA at 5935 KHz. He urged his church members not to just show up Sunday mornings, but to get involved in their local communities for the good of God. * Tonopah, Nevada I broke camp to go into town for breakfast. I arrived too early to get eggs and pancakes at the restaurants and too late to have lunch so I needed to rest my feet. After some delicious barbeque, it was time to get back on the road. I was flipping through FM stations and found "Pahrump’s only Country Music station." It informed me that there was a RAM event at the vocational school so "y’all come down." I then turned my radio off to call my wife. You won't believe it, but there is a RAM event at Pahrump. I'd like to volunteer." She said, "You go do it!" I changed my mind and hung up. I then turned on the radio again. It was all static. * I was in a dead spot and was not able to tune into that station again. Pahrump, Nevada I arrived at the school to find it was hosting an event. The event was quite ordinary, with the exception of the RAM 18-wheeler that was parked at the side and the scattered portable generators around the perimeter. It was already 2 PM, and there were many people in scrubs eating outside. They had surgical masks down to their chins. I approached them and asked where the volunteer check-in was. "You can enter the building through there (pointing at the doors), but you must wear a mask." I knew of the medical futility, and government control aspects to masking for the frauddemic. So I turned around and got into my Jeep. My brain prodded me* to get on the street. No mask necessary." I turned around and parked my car next to one the generators because I knew that there would be a door open to allow the power cables to pass through. In a Star Trek movie, James T. Kirk said "Learn how things works." Maskless, I presented myself at the volunteer check-in counter and offered my services as site security. "I have five years experience in church security. I am certified in both verbal de-escalation techniques and proportional escalation, if required. And I have all of my own gear." A co-sponsor of this event placed her hand on mine and said, "You are the answer to my prayer." I reported to the outdoors lead and was told that my shift would be from 8 to 10 am. These long hours have been done before, so I went to Wal-Mart to buy spare socks, Gold Bond powder to prevent inchiness, and 5-Hour Energy and Kind bars. I was able to make it to sunrise. Friday Night RAM exists to provide free medical care for those who can't afford it. Medical professionals are required to volunteer their services to a community that is in need. This is almost every community. These are the major focus areas. Dentistry Optometry General health Mental well-being Patients can check in at the gates at midnight. Services begin at 6 am. When I arrived at the gate, the cars were already lining up outside and 32 cars had been waiting when we opened it.
The check-in procedure is to get the name and need of the patient and line up their vehicle. It's that simple. It's to manage the limited resources and time available. My heart quickly changed from a slightly procedural tone to one of compassion as I began this task. Have you ever had to wait four hours for someone to come up to you and tell them that they don't use meth. But not me. But I was there all night, right up to the dawn, as their first point of contact. I began to get to know people and learn about their lives. A friend of mine in Alberta Canada lost most of her garden to a hailstorm. She was trying to grow food for her family. As I listened, laughed and smiled with these people, I thought to my self "The right kind of hailstorm in mine would place me in the same circumstance." But that hasn't happened yet. I was ready to serve by my willingness and my talents. The medical providers had already seen 233 patients by the time I left on Saturday morning at 10:01 AM and provided the equivalent of more than $101,000 in services. The same co-organizer was there as I was on my way to take a shower and get some sleep before heading home. "You were great. "I hope you're coming home tonight for day two." That was something I hadn't thought of. So I moved to the side and called my wife once more. "They considered me an asset and asked me to continue working tonight." "What do they think?" "I believe that I'm here, it's working and I should do it. Dan, I knew you would. * So I said yes. Saturday Night I was back at 8 PM. Although the line was shorter, I did recognize some of them. In fairness and to help as many people as possible the patients who had been there the night before were offered the option of either vision or dental service, but not both. Many people returned to the hospital the next night to be treated in the specialty that best suits their needs. In the gym of the school of dentistry, there were 20 bays. There were many instruments, sutures and numbing agents. Four autoclaves were even used to reprocess instruments. I felt that all of the dentistry was well supervised. It was 3:00 AM, and I decided to take some photos and pray over the areas. Asking God to make the decisions and skills of the doctors and the patient outcomes a success made me feel a little more awake. Many smiling faces returned to their cars, with many gauze-covered mouths. For the second crowd, the check-in process was slightly different because many people had arrived by word of mouth rather than following the official announcements on radio and Facebook. Although it didn't feel as busy, the numbers by Sunday noon were much higher with 394 patients and $172,000 of services. Also, I learned that the fancy 18 wheeler contained machines that could grind custom lenses for patients. So on Sunday, many people were returning to get new glasses. Free of charge. Only a small part of the team was working all night. I learned that there was an increase in people seeking mental well-being. This is evidently due to the sociopathic fear our governments have placed on people over the past 2 years, the conflict with Ukraine, as well as the rising costs of food, fuel and rent. Driving home There was a lot I could reflect on. I was an introvert so constant interaction with people took a lot from me. I was already charged up from the two days of camping. But I also took in the glimpses into other people's lives I was given. It wasn't about spreading joy; they came because they were in desperate need of it. I was able to help the team. If you are still able to fog a mirror, I encourage you to sign up for RAM events. These funding options will help you cover the cost of transportation and lodging. Cancel Netflix/Disney+/Amazon Prime (they are all evil corporations anyway) For six months, stop drinking Starbuck's coffee Stop drinking alcohol for six months Make a budget for it now. Sign up to volunteer
It is hard work. It is hard work if done correctly, but it is worth it when God comes alongside you to help you. The RAM people are great. I've volunteered to teach Sunday School, to drill water wells for Honduras, and to serve on a medical mission in Haiti. There is nothing like helping fellow Americans in need. So, go! Never forget the mission. All comments will be replied to: [email protected] Footnote * These asterisks detail instances where God worked in my life, and without any doubt, during these two days. You can say the most powerful prayer you ever make is "Lord here am I" like Samuel, the young prophet.
0 notes