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ephemeral--dreams · 1 year

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Making you cry during a fight (2) - Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya

Okay guys here you go never ask me for anything ever again /j

(part 1)

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Scaramouche

There's a sort of deep, instinctive fear that takes root inside the place where a heart would be, as he watches tears fall after a few too-harsh words.

He's hurt you. He's been careless, he's been too difficult, too much - and it's going to drive you away. You're going to abandon him because of this incident, surely. Why would you stay with someone who makes you cry?

It's… it's not a feeling he's dealt with for many years. The fear of being left. He has not allowed anyone to get close enough to him to have any concern over whether they're around or not. Scaramouche had learned his lesson about getting attached and having emotion, after all. He had spat out whatever bitter words he pleased and felt nothing when he upset anyone he spoke to.

But those days are past, and while that's a good thing in many ways, right now it feels anything but.

"I-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't be crying," the way you apologize as if you're the one in the wrong stabs right through him. You're the one crying, yet he is being wounded just as much. It's an awful thing, caring. "Just. Just give me a moment…"

Scaramouche hesitates. He's paralyzed, caught up in the idea that anything he does or says may make things worse. But what wins out is the idea of fixing it, fixing things before you give up on him—

"Stop it. You shouldn't be the one saying sorry here. I shouldn't have said that to you, alright? You should know better than to take everything I say so seriously, honestly, I-" he sighs, irritated with himself more than you, before pulling you into his embrace. You don't pull away. Good. Maybe he hasn't entirely fucked things up. "...I didn't mean it. Sorry."

Yae

Yae Miko is not the sort of person who yells during a fight. Or at any time, really. So that hadn't been at all what had happened during your little conflict.

Rather, her words were pointed to hit where it hurt, an attempt to shut down whatever silly human nonsense you thought was worth causing a riot over. Problems came and went, and most weren't nearly as important as they may seem in the moment. Living many years had led her to this conclusion. She was a busy woman who had little interest in wasting her time arguing.

...Calculating and perhaps dismissive she may be, but she isn't cold. Yae still very much has a heart, and it skips a beat when she realizes you're nowhere to be found at the usual time she would meet with you after finishing her shrine duties. Surely you weren't that upset over it all, right?

No, you couldn't be still lingering on the issue hours later…

Well, you could. Others were far more sensitive to these things, a fact she often forgot. Yae should know better. Isn't she used to highly emotional people, after all? At least your tantrums weren't going to practically destroy the nation…

She finds you at the foot of the mountain, sitting and idly staring into the distance. The tear tracks on your face are all too telling.

Yae is not above realizing when she has done something wrong. Though she's also not one to openly apologize. She doesn't do much of anything openly.

"You don't listen to me," you tell her.

"Well, I'll try to listen more, then. Is that satisfactory?" She offers a hand to you. You wait a moment before taking it, allowing her to pull you up. "Just remember to consider my side of things as well. We can work on it… But let's not linger on this too long. Time is fleeting for mortals like you, hm?"

Kaeya

Kaeya is excellent at one thing - avoidance. In fact, he's been successfully avoiding you ever since your fight a couple of days ago. It's easier to simply wait until you've both cooled off.

That's what he tells himself. It's certainly not that the fight made him feel anxious. He's not running away from his problems, of course not.

(He's lying to himself. One wrong word and you'll leave. He knows that. It's bad enough that you had an argument, archons forbid he confronts you and it's the last straw.)

So Kaeya carefully stays out of your way, doesn't speak to you, doesn't let you catch sight of him. He'll have to deal with things eventually, he knows, but… Until then, he's content to keep things this way. Four days in you finally seek him out yourself, looking exhausted and absolutely miserable.

"Can we- can we stop fighting? You're right, I'm wrong, all that-" He can only watch as you start breaking down in front of him, a cold, sinking feeling of guilt settling in. "...Just stop ignoring me, please?"

His life has been filled with bad decisions - it seems that he's made yet another, by avoiding you so long. Now Kaeya is faced with your tears as you practically beg for his attention. It's quite the opposite of what he intended. He reaches a careful hand to brush them away. "Shh, shh. No more, alright?"

You sniffle, looking up at him. "You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I never was. We can talk about it later, okay? Let me make you feel better."

#scaramouche x reader #yae miko x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #story unfolding

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bandgie · 3 months

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Desire

President!Jongho x fem!reader

Synopsis: The company dinner was meant to destress your busy corporate life, but it seems like you'll have to make room for dessert.

warnings: slow burn? public fingering, cum eating/swapping, pussy play mostly, intoxication mentions but everyone is pretty much sober

song! 3.7k words

Choi Jongho is not necessarily hated, but he isn't liked either. There's an air around him that screams dominance and demands authority. He strives for perfection and expects everyone to give their all. As stubborn as he is, even with as much unwarranted fear he instills in everyone, you respect his drive.

You're on the opposite spectrum of Mr. Choi. A bit more lenient with the staff, not as ambitious, not as...scary as Seonghwa has once said. Despite the differences, you hardly bump heads with Jongho. Working so close with him, you the director and him the president, you've got to see sides of him others don't.

A more human side.

Working in a corporation may be exhausting, especially in a law firm, but connecting with your subordinates is what makes it enjoyable. Though Mr. Choi doesn't share the same sentiment, you think he secretly enjoys the fruit basket you leave on his desk each time he secures a client.

You may not be able to buy Jongho another one of those baskets this time though. Stress eats at you from the most recent decisions of a particular client. They go against your financial advising, blaming you for the bankruptcy they will most likely endure. It'll make a bad name for the firm and you don't want to imagine Mr. Choi's displeasure.

"What a bunch of fucking idiots," you groan under your breath.

Yunho lifts his head from his computer at your mumbling. He peers over the little wall that divides your desks and waits until you notice him. When your eyes meet his brown ones, he raises an eyebrow, "Who?"

You scrunch your nose as you answer, "That Dreamy Day company. They're complaining about losing money, but it's literally their fault. Putting stocks when they shouldn't and over-drafting loans. So they hire us to make sure they don't go out of business right? But they do the opposite of what we're advising them to do. So they're wasting even more money and blaming me! Me! You should see the emails, Yunho. They're a bunch of fucking assholes too."

From the stunned look on Yunho's face, you think you've said too much. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Sorry. I'm just stressed." Yunho nods understandingly and shrugs, "Aren't we all? I think you'll be happy to know that Mr. Choi said he'll pay for the company dinner tonight."

This makes you perk your head up, eyes wide open. "Dinner? Tonight? No no no I can't do that. I have too much work and-"

"And you'll have to save it for tomorrow. Boss's words, not mine." Yunho smiles at your defeated look, an innocent gaze in his eyes. "You need this." He continues. "We need this. At least one day to relax. If Mr. Boss can tell you're overworked, then there's a problem."

You sigh again, though it's not as heavy. Since you've been working overtime to create a business strategy for Dreamy Day, you've only been eating takeout and convenience store food. Maybe it would do you good to eat something cooked with someone else's money.

"I guess there's nothing I can do then. What restaurant?"

The restaurant, Arriba, smells of spices and meat. The warm lights make you feel cozy and you enjoy the subtle chatter from the people around you. An abundance of food sits in the middle of your table, already halfway gone. Yunho's face is flushed from alcohol, but he still takes another swig of his drink.

"Damn Seonghwa! I didn't think you'd eat this much. You're so thin!" You chuckle as the said man blushes from the attention. He shoves another piece of cooked meat in his mouth, "I eat well."

"Ah, that's nothing," Jongho gestures to Seonghwa's plate. "In college, Park used to apply for cook positions just to eat the nightly leftovers. He used to purposely make the customers' food wrong so he could remake it and eat the one they sent back."

That sputters a laugh from you. One reason is that Seonghwa's gluttony runs deeper than you thought, the other now knowing that the senior associate used to flip burgers.

"No way," you manage to subdue your laughter. "Did they ever find out?"

Seonghwa, even slightly tipsy, doesn't like to be the center of attention. He picks up his bottle and takes a strategically long drink just to avoid your question. However, he can't escape your curious eyes waiting for an answer. He finally sets his drink down and swallows loudly, "Yes...I didn't last longer than four months."

Yunho laughs at the honesty, wrapping an arm around Seonghwa's shoulder. "It's okay Hwa. We don't want to pay for leftovers anyway."

You chuckle at their interaction before glancing at Jongho beside you. Only his ears and what's exposed on his neck are flushed. Rather than the serious look you're used to, his eyes are softer. There's a sense of calamity rolling off him that makes you look at him in a different light. Even if he's working in such a high position, you can't help but notice how young he is in a moment like this.

"You too Jongho, you can handle your liquor pretty good." You notice your mistake a bit too late. Your boss is pretty stern about properly addressing him and even outside of work you think he might correct you. Instead, he turns his head to you and his lips twist into a smirk.

Your heart flutters.

Jongho raises his shot glass to eye level and looks at it almost affectionately, "Alcohol is a man's best friend." He brings the glass to his lips and shoots it back. He licks his lips and lets out a satisfied sigh once he's gulped, "Every good president should know how to drink well."

The night continues with drunk laughter and playful banter. Though you've worked with these men for years, you feel as though you're finally getting to know them as they share stories of their youth. Yunho is obsessed with Harry Potter, Seonghwa prefers Star Wars and Jongho...Jongho...

Was he always this handsome? Did he always have such a cute, gummy smile? It has to be the light bouncing off his tan skin that captivates you. It's the warm food and cozy environment that makes you sit hip-to-hip with him. That yearning for contact is because of the soju. The way you shiver when his hands brush against yours when he reaches for seconds is because you're just hyper-sensitive.

It's anything but him, you remind yourself.

It's a mantra you repeat while Jongho pays for bills, while he holds the door open for you four to shuffle out of, as he asks if everyone wants to go to a bar.

You blink yourself out of your thoughts, "Huh?"

"It's a shame to waste the night. Plus we don't do this often. But I understand if it's too late for you guys," he looks amongst the three of you, waiting for an answer.

Even if you weren't suddenly crushing on your boss, it would be foolish to turn down a higher-up's offer. Yunho and Seonghwa seem to think the same thing as they agree quickly. "I could go for another round," Yunho nods.

Jongho smiles in a way that makes you tremble so violently that Seonghwa asks if you want his jacket.

"Sounds good," Jongho claps his hands a few times. "I'll keep a tab open, but do your best to remember we have work tomorrow.

It's a completely different environment in the bar compared to Arriba. Seonghwa mentioned the place MATZ his old friend runs to go to. Maybe you expected some level of decency, but you're shocked to see what feels like hundreds of people standing, drinking, dancing. Then the foul smell of beer and what you hope isn't vomit fills your nose. You cover your mouth and blink away your tears.

The crowd eyes the four of you judgingly as you push your way to an empty booth. It's mostly likely because of your attire. While everyone wears either skin-tight or little clothing, you four wear business casual.

You jump when a hand settles on the small of your back. You're about to, not so nicely, tell the perv to keep their hands to themselves when it's Jongho you see close behind you. He doesn't so much as look at you when you peer up at him, face heating. You whip your head back around and let him guide you to a dirty, but empty table.

''I think this is a club rather than a bar, Mr. Park!" Jongho shouts over the loud music.

Mr. Park...oh he's pissed.

Seonghwa's eyes widen in fear as he sneaks glances at you. Help!

You would rather not risk enduring the anger of Jongho, but Seonghwa has such a begging look in his eyes that you cave. "Maybe this is a good thing!" you shout in Jongho's ear. "I mean, you took us out to relax, right? And like you said, we don't do this often."

Jongho raises an eyebrow as he turns to face you. Since you were leaning in his ear, his face is mere inches away from your own. You swear you can feel his warm breath on your lips. Jongho looks at you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl. He isn't just looking at you, he's observing you. You think he's debating on demoting you when he laughs instead, "Using my own words against me, huh? Shouldn't expect anything less than my director."

Seonghwa visibly relaxes at the diffused situation, but now you're the tense one. All you can stare at is Jongho. Different lights, different smells, different places, yet he still captivates you. You tremble at his intense stare, feeling the way his eyes eat you.

His tongue pokes out to moisten the side of his bottom lip.

"Imma gets some drinks," Yunho's announcement breaks the stare-off. Jongho turns his attention to the tall man and reaches into the pocket of his coat. You watch as his nimble fingers dig through his wallet to pull out the company card and hand it to Yunho.

"Just put it under my name," he instructs.

Yunho scoots until he's out of the booth, leaving you three at the table before someone catches Seonghwa's eye.

"Oh!" He quickly shuffles to his feet. "I see my friend. I'm going to say a quick hi. If you'll excuse me." Jongho gives a nod before Seonghwa disappears into the sea of bodies.

Then there were two.

You don't know where to look, where to pretend to look. You choose the dance floor where people shamelessly rub against each other, spilling drinks and hollering with deaf-tone singing. It's somewhat overstimulating to your semi-sober mind, but it's better than the burning presence of Jongho beside you.

"Do you like to dance?" that burning presence speaks. A part of you wants to pretend that you didn't hear him over the loud atmosphere, but you know better than that.

"Yes!" You yell in his direction but refuse to meet his eyes. "I don't go out anymore, but I danced when I did." You see the outline of Jongho nodding. Awkwardly, you meet his eyes, "Do you like to dance?"

He shrugs, "I don't care much for it. I prefer singing."

A look of surprise molds into your face, "Singing? Since when?"

"Since forever," he smiles. "I should have chosen a karaoke bar instead. Not this shit fest." Jongho laughs at his crudeness, waiting for your response.

"I mean, it would have been more quiet. That's for sure!" You smile at his joyful expression. "But I don't mind this. When Yunho comes back with drinks, I think we'll be having a much better time."

Jongho nods, but there's a somewhat youthful expression in his eyes you don't think you've ever seen.

"Maybe we should go dance," you propose. "Just until Yunho comes back." There's an immediate feeling of regret when the question slips from you. You want to blame the atmosphere for getting to your head, the drunk energy making its way to your veins.

But when you see him smile curiously when you see him nod, when you grab him by the wrist and lead him to the middle of the floor, you're buzzing with excitement you know is far from those things.

Jongho is a better dancer than he claimed to be. He runs his hands up and down your torso, pulling you close or moving his hips with yours. He even trails the tips of his fingers down your neck when you tilt up to the ceiling.

Yunho and Seonghwa are more than likely back at the booth, wondering where you two went. If they were to see you dancing like this, to see Jongho's moving against you this way, you think they'd never let you hear the end of it.

You can't seem to find the energy to care though. Not when Jongho's letting you grind against his thighs. He encourages it, keeping his hands at your waist to help you ride him. The two of you have already crossed so many lines by doing this, you might as well see how far you can get.

You can feel his erection through his work pants, poking your leg. As much as you want to twist a hand between and 'help,' it would be too obvious. You settle with feeling your wet underwear rub against your cunt, staining your pants.

Good thing it's already dark out.

Jongho lets you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He can hear every pant, every whine, feel the way your tongue laps at his sweat. He can feel your warm cunt through the fabric, but he doubts it'll be enough for him.

He snakes a hand between your bodies undo the button of your slacks and finds the zipper.

"Jongho!" You gasp in his ear. You glance down to see him working his fingers down until they cup over your clothed mound. You tremble in his hold, softly moaning at the contact before you come to your senses.

"There are people!"

"There are."

"They're gonna see!"

"They might."

You're going to reply when his hand rubs up and down. Your hips rock before you can think, chasing the pleasure Jongho so willingly gives you.

"I don't know why you're worried." He shakes his head. "You're so wet. Did you want me to ignore that?"

The only response he gets is soft moans in his ear. He giggles at your desperation, opting to move his palm in circles.

"I saw the way you were looking at me during dinner," Jongho admits. "At first, I thought it was because of the drinks. You know how some people get like when they have one too many. But now that we're here, I wonder if you've been wet this whole time."

Were you that obvious? Could Jongho see you eye-fucking him? Could he feel the desire that wrecked you these last hours? He must, even if it weren't for his confession. Jongho must feel the same way if he's letting you hump his hand without care.

"Mmm sorry. Sorry," it's all breathy against his skin when you speak. "D-don't fire me."

That sputters a laugh out of him. You grip onto him a little tighter by the shoulder. His hand is drenched, and it's so easy to slide back and forth on it. But the fabric of your underwear is starting to get irritating. It's too rough on your sensitive flesh and you're trying to slip his hand inside your panties.

Once his laughter subdues, he smiles down at your frenzied state. "I wasn't even thinking that. I'm sure HR would get a laugh out of my director humping my hand like a bunny."

You whine in his neck, both from embarrassment and need. Even as he teases you, Jongho relents and slips his fingers past your panties. The feeling of his bare fingers rubbing against your cunt makes you shiver, humming in satisfaction.

Jongho runs two of his fingers up and down your slit, getting familiar with how your body reacts to his touches. He moves the pad of his fingers up to rub circles over your clitoris. You let out an airy moan, thankful for the loud music concealing your mewls.

"I won't tell them," Jongho promises. "A little secret between us two."

The people around you have gotten the clue that you two are more than dancing. Some move to a different spot, others giggle at the desperation, but most roll their eyes as if this is a common occurrence at MATZ. Either way, you don't care. Not when your boss's fingers dip between your folds, spreading your lips and using his thumb to apply pressure on your clit.

You could cum from how Jongho plays with your pussy alone, but your walls keep clenching down on air. It leaves you feeling frustrated with nothing inside you. His fingers feel thick, they can do the job.

"Can...can we keep another secret?" You bite on your lower lip, looking up at Jongho whose eyes never left your face. The colors of the strobe lights bounce beautifully on his face, capturing his already-knowing smile. "Depends. You have to tell me first."

Strategically, you trail kisses from his neck to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you whisper, "I wanna feel your fingers in me. Creaming around them. God, fuck, I just want to cum on them."

That playful air around Jongho seems to darken, turning into something akin to desire. He teases your entrance with the tips of his fore and middle finger. Circling and barely dipping them in before pulling away. "I thought there were people?" He flashes a gummy smile.

"Jonghooo."

He smiles wider at your whining, but it's what makes him oblige. Two thick fingers finally make their way inside you carefully. He slides them in with ease from how wet his entire hand already was and with how relaxed your body is. He slightly wiggles his fingers to find a comfortable position for both of you, adding to the already stretching stimulation.

You clench around his digits eagerly, loudly moaning from finally being somewhat filled. Everything about him is warm, from the fingers finding a pace, to his palm that smacks against your entire pussy. Slick drips down your thighs, collecting onto the fabric on your work pants. If you thought they were soaked before, they are utterly drenched now.

Jongho doesn't bother with a slow pace. He can tell from how you're bouncing on his hand that you need more than what you started with. With his free hand, he hooks one of your legs up to rest on his hip so he has better access. With this opening angle, it's easier for him to piston his fingers in and out of you.

It's loud, it's wet, it's obscene.

You should feel disgusted or ashamed at the very least. But Jongho's so good at finger fucking you. He doesn't seem to mind your loud whines, your rocking hips, and his dirty sleeves getting wetter by the second. After all, a good subordinate follows in the footsteps of their superiors.

His fingers aren't necessarily long, but they still build that fire in your belly. Your orgasm approaches, affecting how your riding turns into messy humping; How you make a conscious effort to try and quiet your louder moans. Your walls repeatedly tighten around Jongho and he drives it home.

Harshly, Jongho drives his fingers as far as they can go, wiggling just the tips to prod that rough spot in your pussy. It feels as though it's in your stomach, reaching even deeper than you know is possible. Your hips come to a complete stop, opting to spasm uncontrollably.

A few more harsh pumps, some clit play with Jongho's thumb, and you feel yourself coming undone. The tightly coiled pleasure blossoms in your stomach, spreading its heat to your legs, your chest, and your sensitive cunt. You gasp in his ear, torn between staying awkwardly slightly or embarrassingly loud.

Jongho decides for you. He captures your parted lips in a messy kiss, eating your wails and moans. You pant in his mouth, trying to match his stroking tongue with yours. It's difficult to kiss him back when your orgasm floods your senses, but Jongho hardly seems to care about your tired lips.

You squeal when he gently pulls his fingers downwards. The drag makes your eyes roll, still delicate at every move. Jongho doesn't take them out all the way, but instead drives them forward. He maintains a slowly pumping speed to help you ride off your high.

It's overwhelming to have both your lips occupied, so you make the difficult choice to pull away from Jongho's kiss and rest your head on his chest. He frowns at first, but upon seeing your droopy eyelids and constant moans, he accepts that he's drawing your orgasm too far out.

That doesn't mean you don't whine when he finally pulls his fingers out, cunt cold and empty.

With hazy eyes, you watch as he brings his fingers up to eye level, glistening in the artificial lighting. Wordlessly, he traces those same fingers across your bottom lip, wiping your essence in the process. You open your mouth so he can further push them between your lips.

"How do you taste?" Jongho questions, eyes stuck on where your tongue swirls around.

You hum in response, leaning forward to reach his fingers to the knuckles. Slowly, you pull away, letting his fingers out with a 'pop!'

"Try for yourself."

You snake a hand around his neck and bring him forward, putting your tongue in his mouth immediately. Jongho groans at the taste, cupping your face with both hands as he pulls you closer. He digs his tongue deeper and sucks on yours to get every drop of cum you have. It's not until you're gasping for air that he pulls away, licking his lips.

"Fuck," he swears. "Hiding that from me all this time, huh Director?"

With glossy, cum-stained lips, you smile. "Didn't think it was part of the job."

As if on cue, Jongho's phone begins to vibrate between your bodies. He removes a hand from your face to reach his pocket and look at the caller. He glances at you and then at the phone before silencing the call.

"We should find our table."

a/n: omfg I have been so dry im so sorry school is kicking MY ASS I have like 1000 words due every week for one class then 300 a week for another and there's so much articles to read omfg ANYWHO I hoped you all liked this one!!!

#smut #ateez smut #atz smut #smut atz #jongho #Jongho smut #jongho x reader #jongho ateez #jongho atz #kpop smut #smut jongho #atz #ateez #ateez jongho #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #choi jongho

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unseededtoast · 2 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Eight

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

Heading west, I keep walking through the night, though it's less than ideal. I take my time, wanting to stay quiet and undetected by both infected and people. The silence of the night allows my mind to mull over what I found today and how everything is supposed to fit together.

My mind can't seem to figure anything out that makes sense. The map is the only thing that makes the most sense to me. The notes, the game tallies, they all seem so odd but there has to be some connection. There has to be some reason these people were tasked with killing a specific age range of children in QZ's across the country. There has to be some reason they're connected to the Fireflies. I'm seeing bits and pieces of the picture, but not the full painting.

But what if this is all a bit bigger than I can take on? Am I walking myself right towards a death sentence? Maybe. Could I be making the wrong decision to go to Nebraska? Possibly.

The other alternatives are either to retreat back to the QZ and be stuck wondering for the rest of my life, or try to track down which QZ the others went to, and I could miss them and have wasted time. But if I guess which QZ they're going to next, I could possibly save more lives. I've never been good at gambling, and yet I find myself playing at the highest stakes.

Each step seems to take ten times the effort as normal as I consider my options, trying to see which is the most logical, which would give me the best odds of finding these people. As soon as I think I've made a decision, I second guess myself. It feels like there's no right decision to be made.

I stop walking in the middle of a street and stare straight up at the dark sky, the stars shining brightly down. If only they could give me the answer. The sound of a clicker in a nearby skyscraper gets me moving again, towards the interstate. It seems I've made up my mind, and only time will tell if this was the right decision.

Readjusting my backpack and yawning, I take in my surroundings so that I'm not ambushed by infected. Sometimes it seems like they come out of nowhere. My thoughts seem to run in circles until it starts to drive me mad. I have to think of something else or I'm going to go insane. And after searching for something, the green sign above the road distracts my mind and reminds me of the stranger I met only yesterday.

I wonder how Joel is doing, how his journey is going so far. He seemed seasoned to life outside a QZ, his time away from Boston likely forced him to adapt. Whatever job it was that he took to get out of Boston must have caused him to not want to return. But no matter the reason, I hope that he has a safe journey, I'm sure whoever is waiting for him is worried sick.

My path leads me to a roadblock where an old FEDRA checkpoint used to be, just before the entrance ramp of the highway. Cars are parked bumper to bumper and there's sandbags stacked on top of each other supporting a thick line of barbed wire. Knowing I can't climb overtop of it, I take a right and decide to go around. Sure, this is going to delay my trip slightly, but it's better than trying to go overtop of barbed wire. I don't really feel like nursing open wounds on my way to Nebraska.

As I go to turn left to get back on track I immediately stop moving. Standing in the street are three runners, all hunched over with quiet sobs. A clicker cries out somewhere close, its screeches ricochet off the buildings and echoes into the open air. My heart hammers in my chest and I take careful steps backwards so that I can keep my eyes on them. Thankfully, they don't see me and I'm able to get back to the front of the barricade.

I take a left instead, and hope for a better outcome. Bracing myself, I turn the corner and am in disbelief with what I see. There are four runners standing in the road. My eyes trail down the street and I see that they're all trapped here. The FEDRA barricade extends down the streets so that the infected in the Boston area can't use this ramp to get onto the highway. On one of the barricade sections I see the telltale sign of a door, there's a giant FEDRA sign hanging above it. That door would be a direct path to the road if it weren't for the infected. It seems that there's no unobstructed way for me to get to the highway. I'm up against seven runners and a clicker, at least. Even during the day I don't know if I could take this on.

Ducking back behind the building I try to formulate some sort of plan. How can I get through this barricade without the infected noticing me? I know the door is to the left, but there's no way I can get past all of those infected and open it. Even if I do sneak to the door, I know it's going to make sound when I open it, and that's like ringing the dinner bell for them.

Sound would be like ringing a dinner bell. An idea comes to my mind and I spot an abundance of bricks laying beside one of the cars. If I can get those bricks to all fall at the same time across the street, it should draw them away long enough for me to get to the door. It's still risky, but I think it's my best shot. But how do I get them to fall at the same time?

I don't see a way that I can pull that plan off without considerable time, and I don't have time to be stopped up here, not with all the infected. I stare at the pile of bricks and another idea crosses my mind. What if I use them to get over the barricade? I could lay the bricks in a way that I could get over the barbed wire. It might not be the most sophisticated plan, but it's going to have to work.

Quietly, I walk over to the pile and begin picking them up slowly. The barricade is at least six feet high, so I'm going to have to bring bricks up to the top of the sandbags and lay them there before I can construct something over the wire. I slide my backpack off my shoulders so that it's easier to get the bricks to the top of the barricade. Clutching three bricks under one arm, I climb the sandbags and drop them on top. Thankfully, the sand masks the sound of the bricks landing.

I take another trip up with three more bricks without incident, and feel more confident in my plan. On my last trip up with bricks, I drop them on the sandbags, but one of them hits the corner and falls down to the road with a loud crash. The infected hear it and I can tell they're rushing to investigate. I drop down to the road to pick up my backpack and see them coming towards me on both sides. Shit.

With the speed of lighting, I put my backpack on and start climbing the sandbags. I hear them getting closer as I reach the top, their carnal breaths loud in the night. I'm about two inches away from pulling myself to the top when I feel one of them grab my foot and it yanks me down.

My fingers slip on the sandbags and I fall a few inches before I'm able to grab ahold of something. Wildly, I kick my feet in an attempt to get them off of me, but there are too many. In a last ditch effort, I grab my gun from my thigh holster and shoot the ones who drag me down. The shots ring out in the night and I know it's only going to attract more.

The few runners I've shot collapse to the ground, which gives the clicker more space to reach for me. Clickers are infinitely more terrifying than runners, and they're about ten times stronger too. Runners take one bullet to kill, clickers can take at least two or three. I aim my gun towards the clicker and pull the trigger, but it just clicks. It's empty. Quickly, I shove the gun back in the holster and use both hands to grab onto the sandbags.

Adrenaline pumps in my veins and I fight harder to pull myself away from the feral infected. My pant leg rips at the bottom from their clawing and I feel my fingers beginning to slip. Clenching my eyes shut, I grit my teeth and pull with all my might to get away.

Just as I'm about to accept my fate, a shot rings out and one of the infected crumples to the ground. Four more shots hit the clicker, and it falls as well, body twitching on top of the others. Without thinking I pull myself on top of the barricade and whip my head from side to side to see who shot them. I grab my curved knife from my belt and hold it in front of me.

My chest heaves with each breath I take as the adrenaline begins wearing off and the panic sets in. Whoever shot them could be coming for me next. What if it's the T group?

From the shadows I see a figure approaching, slinging a gun behind them as they quickly jog towards me. Once they get close enough, I recognize who it is immediately. It's Joel.

He runs to the barricade and holds out a hand. I put my knife away and offer him my help up the sandbags. We both start using the bricks to construct a makeshift bridge across the barbed wire, the screeches of a dozen approaching infected rushing our movements. Joel takes bricks from my shaking hands and practically stands me up on his own and pushes me across the bridge, my other pant leg ripping from the barbs.

My feet hit the ground with a hard thud, quickly followed by Joel. His hands push on the back of my backpack and one word is clear over the coming stampede.

"Run." We take off sprinting down the highway's entrance ramp. He's slightly faster than me but I keep up well. Joel points to an abandoned car that crashed into a guard rail and I nod, showing him I understand the plan.

We yank open the doors and climb in. If the infected make it over the barricade, they shouldn't see us here and eventually will disperse. The two of us are out of breath and we sit in silence, trying to regain our bearings.

After a few minutes of steadying my breath, I take my backpack off and sit it in my lap. I rest my head on it and lean forward, closing my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down.

"Thank you." I say, slightly breathless. Raising my head from my backpack, I look over to Joel, who's glancing in the mirrors to see what's behind us. His eyes flicker to mine and he gives me a stern nod, opting to stay quiet.

If it weren't for him I'd be some infected's dinner. That fact sinks in and I feel an immense amount of gratitude. He didn't have to save me. He could've left me for dead. Most people wouldn't stick their neck out for someone they barely know, but he did. Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

My gaze turns to the mirrors as well, the two of us anxiously wait to see if the infected are going to make it over. The runners would have no issue scaling the wall given the proper motivation to do so, but they're less likely to if they can't immediately see something that grabs their attention.

After hours of us hunkering down silently in the car, Joel opens his door and gets out. He slings his bag and rifle on his back, looking behind him one more time. I get out and gear up as well. And just like the first time I met him, the silence is almost overwhelming. The morning sunlight begins rising, and I realize we spent almost the entire night in the car.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate whether or not I should say anything. Seeing as how he just saved my life, I decide it's the least I can do. I clear my throat and scratch the back of my neck, looking down at the ground to avoid awkward eye contact.

"I just want to thank you again for saving me back there. You really didn't have to put yourself at risk, but I appreciate it." I find the courage to look up, only to see him staring at me already with a fierce intensity.

"I thought you were headed towards that camp?" He asks, totally disregarding my appreciation.

"I was. I mean, I did. One guy was left but he was infected. I found clues though, about where they might be going." I tell him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He nods,

"So where're you headed?" He asks again, and it throws me off. This is the most talkative he's ever been.

"Omaha, Nebraska." I say, recalling the city where the large 'T' was located. Joel's eyebrows raise.

"That's quite a ways from here." He points out and I sigh, knowing I'm severely underprepared for the long road ahead.

"Yeah, I know. But I have to do this. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't." I confess to him. I'm well aware my choices defy logic, but, the alternative of letting the guilt eat me alive is worse.

Joel rests his hand on the top of the car and looks down the highway. He shifts his weight around like he's deep in thought for a few minutes. He's probably trying to think of a way to ditch me. Feeling like I'm intruding on his venture home, I speak up again.

"Listen, I appreciate what you did for me back there, all of it. But I know you're trying to get home so I'll get out of your hair, for real this time." I say and extend a hand out to him again, probably for the last time. Like before, he stares at my hand.

"I'm headed west and go right by Omaha." He says, squinting in the sunlight. I drop my hand once I realize he isn't going to take it, meaning we aren't splitting quite yet. My eyebrows draw tightly together in confusion as I try to understand what he's trying to get at. I think I understand, but I need to hear him clarify.

"Meaning what? We tag along 'til Omaha?" I hear the insecurity in my own voice and I hate it. Joel takes his hand back from the top of the car and nods.

"Safer that way, for the both of us." He confirms my thoughts and starts walking down the highway. I follow him, accepting his offer.

We walk side by side down the road, the only sounds being the birds in the sky and our gear rattling around. My mind is buzzing with questions I want to ask him, but I respect that he's a quiet, reserved man.

Every few minutes I check behind us, feeling paranoid that we're being followed. There's never anything there, but I'd rather check and see nothing than not check and be surprised. Joel is less paranoid I think, he walks with a silent confidence that tells me he's no stranger to the outside world. He understands it far better than I do.

The two of us walk for miles without saying a word until we come to an exit ramp. I recognize it as a suburb outside of Boston, but I've never been there before. Joel veers off the highway to the exit and I follow without question.

Off the ramp, there's a small town to the left and a bunch of housing complexes to the right. Seems like the perfect place for infected to be lurking about. But for some reason, I put my blind faith in the man leading me and trail him into the town.

He looks over his shoulder at me and points at a small brick building. I nod and approach it with him, preparing my knife for use. He stands on the opposite side of the entrance doors with his knife in hand, looking to me for confirmation that I'm ready. Silently, I nod and watch as he swings the door open. I wait for the sound of infected, but am pleasantly surprised with silence.

Joel seems to know where he's going though, he heads straight for the back room. I take my time to look around at the front room, seeing if there's anything of use. Most likely there isn't, but every once in a while I get lucky. The sound of whatever Joel is moving is enough to catch my attention, and I stand in the doorway. He's moving a large piece of plywood that's on the floor. There's a hole in the ground, and he drops down into it.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I go over to peek in the hole, seeing a small stash of supplies. Joel rummages around and picks up ammunition, a few cans, and another knife. He turns around and sees me staring above him, and he hands me items he can't carry himself; some cans of food and ammunition, before he pulls himself back out of the hole.

"You stashed that?" I ask quietly. He huffs as he puts away the extra supplies.

"A while ago." He answers and the two of us quickly shove the items in our bags. My bag feels like it gained fifteen extra pounds, but I can't complain. The extra weight means we have better survival odds.

Wordlessly, Joel moves out of the store and heads towards the suburban side of town, only a few miles walk away. The cookie-cutter houses remind me of the neighborhood I used to live in. A small, idyllic place at one point in time, turned to nothing but a ghost town now. Joel approaches the porch of one and opens the door. Luckily, it's empty and I follow him inside.

He blocks the main entrances to the home without a word, and I move to help him. I shove a strong chair underneath the handle of the back door and try to turn the handle to test its durability. After that, I make my rounds on the curtains and close them all. It seems like we're making this our base for the night. Once we've taken all the safety measures that we possibly can, Joel finds his way to the living room and unloads his stuff on the old, worn-down couch.

I place my backpack on the floor next to the couch and lean against the doorframe that connects the living room and kitchen, watching as Joel straightens his back out on the floor. His arms reach above his head to elongate his spine, and I hear the bones pop and crack. Wincing slightly, I turn my attention elsewhere in the house.

My eyes catch the fading family portrait on the wall and I go to look at it. The black frame houses an old photo. There's a man, woman, two kids, and a dog. They're all smiling, even the dog looks happy. My heart tugs at the sight of the happy family, and I can only assume what happened to them, just like so many other families. Sighing, I look at the other photos on the wall, seeing the slow growth of the children through still images. They look like they were probably high school age. My fingers find their way to the necklace that adorns my neck and I squeeze it tight.

A sound from behind me snaps me out of my thoughts and I turn back to see Joel staring at me. I offer him a polite smile and go to take a seat across from him on the floor, resting my back against the old couch. I fiddle with the torn edges of my pants, and can no longer restrain myself from asking questions. There are too many things I want answers to.

"How did you find me at that barricade?" My voice is soft. Joel clears his throat and shrugs.

"I took the long way 'round so I wouldn't interfere with whatever you were doin'. I was plannin' on taking this highway back home anyways. Guess it was just a coincidence." He plainly answers and I nod, accepting his answer.

"What a lucky coincidence." I smile, trying to break through the tension that always seems to hang over us. It's going to be a long trip west if he keeps things this short. He just shrugs in response,

"So what did you find 'bout those people?" He asks. I'm surprised he even cares, but I reach for my bag to show him what I've found. I spread the documents out in front of me and let him look. I explain to him what I know and what my theories are.

"Whoever they are, they need to be eradicated. Those kids, they were-" The tightness in my throat constricts my ability to talk and I take a shaky breath, remembering what it felt like to cradle the dying girl's head. Joel just nods, not needing further elaboration. He holds up the scraps of paper I found in the fire and reads the simple words.

"I'm not sure what those have to do with anything, and I'm not sure there's any sort of connection." I speak up, truthfully not knowing if they're of any value.

He puts the scraps down and picks up another piece of paper, the one with the Firefly insignia on it. As he reads the paper it's like the blood is drained from his face. My eyebrows knit together,

"What is it?" I ask and his startled eyes look deep into mine with fear that he tries to mask. An uneasy feeling settles in me. He looks back down to the paper and re-reads the note before he says anything.

"These bastards aren't going to live much longer." Is all he says before handing everything back over to me. The look on his face is unsettling, so I don't push anything further.

There has to be something he knows about this.

#joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us joel #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic

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secretdiaryofcrowley · 1 month

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Things To Do Today

Drive.

Just drive

Nothing else.

Waking up this morning, I knew instantly that today is a driving day. I've sobered up to get rid of the hangover, but my headache's still there and it's persistent. Should've sobered up yesterday night, but I kinda like the fuzzy head. Keeps me from thinking.

If there's enough pain in my head, I suppose, I won't worry too much about the pain in my heart.

I don't want to go anywhere near the bookshop. I don't, but I need to return the CD to Muriel before it looses its song. Still, I drive around all day to work up the courage.

The song starts five or six times while I'm driving back to Soho. I try to listen, but in the end I always turn it off. My car turns it back on. I turn it back off.

At the horizon, far beyond the end of the road, the sun's going down in a blaze of red and orange. Like the whole world was about to end in fire.

The street lanterns at Whickber Street flicker on as I pass through. The stores are closed at this hour, but there's still light in most of the restaurants and, of course, the pub.

I could go there, have a whiskey. Or I could have a bottle of wine at Marguerite's or a bottle of Tsingtao at Mr & Mrs Chen's place.

No, I can't. It would never be just one glass or one bottle. Wasting yourself on your own is fine, but not in front of people you used know. Not front of people he used to know.

If I was human, I'd probably be dead in a ditch somewhere three times over. Being who I am, I know how far I can take this. This may be the worst time, but it is certainly not the first.

It's not even the first time I got my heart ripped out, but last time happened to be a bit more literal.

Do mine eyes deceive me? There's light in the bookshop. No, not in the shop itself, but up in the flat, in the very guest room that Gabriel used to live in when he was Jim.

For a brief moment I allow myself to imagine what it would be like if Aziraphale was still in there. He'd notice I was on my way and open the door for me. And then we'd sit inside and talk about something or other, have a drink or two, and maybe talk some more. He would have a snack and I would watch him eat. He would get excited about something and bounce around and I would listen to the ridiclous sounds coming out of his mouth.

And watch his smile. That beautiful beautiful smile. And everything would just be fine for a few hours.

A familiar silhouette at the window. Muriel is sitting there, probably on the inside sill, their head bent over a book they're holding. They're a fast reader, turning the pages at a quick and steady pace.

I wonder why Muriel didn't take Aziraphale's room. It's bigger than the guest room and it's not like he'll be back anytime soon.

Angels and their faith...

I drop the CD in the letterbox inside the door, trying to avoid any noises. Back on the road, I look up to the window again.

Muriel still seems busy with their book. I hope, they read all the brilliant ones first, then the good ones before moving on to the trash that they inevitably will find.

But then, these humans never can tell the difference. Goethe's Faust was a good book. Marie Corelli's Sorrows of Satan was a brilliant one.

I cross the road and signal for my car to come pick me up. Nina is still inside her closed-for-the-night-coffee shop sitting at a table across Maggie. They're talking to each other and they both look worried.

Time to get out of here. Just as the Bentley speeds around the corner, Maggie spots me and starts waving frantically. Nina looks up, too, her expression a mix and match between a sigh of relief and a death glare.

No. No talk. I don't want to talk to any of you. I did what I came for and now I'm leaving.

Just leave me alone, all of you!

~ * ~

More Diary Parts:

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

#crowley #good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #crowley is a mess #aziraphale x crowley #crowley is lonely #crowley is heartbroken #crowley pushes everyone away #good omens fanfic

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fantasy-mixtapes · 2 months

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Fig Faeth Junior Year Playlist: Side A

It's no surprise that Fig Faeth's playlist is the one that I actually listen to the most. It's just a very good vibe and I love her. Took extra time to Song descriptions and thoughts down below. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10.

Genres included: Pop-punk, Punk, Alternative

1. hair out, Stand Atlantic

Am I fuckin' up my life? I'm just tryna make improvements Slowly givin' up the fight But I gotta cover up the bruise That I get from all the Expectations give me vertigo Wasting away to the pressure The pressure, The pressure, oh

This song is such an earworm, scratching a specific itch in my brain. Love the fact that both Kristen and Fig (the failing girlies) start with a Stand Atlantic song, and it works with the way that Fig is coming at this season. From the jump, she is one of the most visibly and audibly burnt out, specifically from the pressure of the "sophomore album" that was supposed to come out months ago. This song is definitely about the pressures of a songwriter as well as the pressures of life in general so it fits sooooo perfectly. Especially with the "I can already here people hating the song" outro *chefs kiss*

2. Who The Hell Am I?, NOBRO

God, I'm tired of being like this I can change, but in a minute Always looking for the back door, on the run Always at the party, never quite having fun Play with fire, and you're gonna get burned I'm on fire, and you know it hurts I was always on the outside looking in Maybe it's me 'cause I never wanna fit in

Fig's class struggles, her conversation with Mazey, I can't take it. I feel like we've all been there. I really love how the narrative with her has progressed, like last season was deconstructing her need to mold herself into other people (or into an idealized version of herself) now she's trying to figure out who she is at her core without all the disguises.

3. 7 Years Bad Luck, Glasseater

Something strange seems to be plaguing me Everything I touch falls apart I've lost it all, losing all my luck Suffering 7 years bad luck

I don't particularly love this song, a little too unintentionally underproduced, but it deserves a spot on this playlist. I feel like I would be Fig in the curse situation. It took me a literal year to deal with debilitating stomach problems, and I, too, waited until my friends noticed to actually do something about it. Either way, can't wait to learn more about the weird Galier Pride curse, love the representation for my stomach problem girlies

4. Where the Heart Is, Sweet Pill

Get this My mind's been in a million places but my body hasn't moved an inch And I feel like I'm missing out again Ignoring my plans Wondering how they went Feeling bad about it If I could just take a chance I wouldn't feel so bad To see past myself I wouldn't feel so bad

This is Fig's final decision to try Paladin after doing so well with Warlock. She knows the priorities in her gut don't match with what anyone else says, but she's discovering her loyalty. She's figuring out her actual drive... following her heart <3

5. Impostor Syndrome, Sidney Gish

Unfortunately, I am My own dog, my own fur companion My own old lady on a forum Who types in glittery decorum Unfortunately, I take Myself out walking every day and I had my legs to the feet and I give my head to the leash

Making Fantasy High playlists is like making a ven diagram of which dog-themed songs are Tracker-coded and which are Fig-coded. This one, to me at least, is Fig-coded. (yes, I do have a tracker playlist, and yes, every song in it is dog/wolf specific, BUT THEY'RE GOOD OK). We love our Oath/Pact of the German Shepard.

6. You Owe Me Nothing In Return, Alanis Morissette

I'll give you countless amounts of outright Acceptance if you want it I will give you encouragement to chose The path you want if you need it You can speak of anger and doubts Your fears and freak outs And I'll hold it

So I know that we're gearing up for Fig's Warlock/Paladin agreement post "mooner yulenear," but this is my interpretation of what it's going to look like. She cares about her friends, and she would do anything for them! And though I know this song came out in 2002, Alanis Morissette is a 90's icon and perfect for the grungy riot grrrl vibe I see for her

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 #d20 fhsy #spotify #fantasy mixtapes #fig faeth #d20 fig #fhjy spoilers #d20 spoilers #emily axford #Spotify

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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 27 days

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Tell me something Miller gave up

Do you ever think about media and stories reflecting the anxieties of the cultures that create them? Or how sci-fi sometimes predicts or inspires technology? Do you ever think about Halo and Aliens and Starship Troopers and disaster movies and real life and

I poured my brain out onto a page stream of consciousness style so it's a mess, but a fun, terrifying one I hope

There's a lot of buzzwords people throw around. People saying one thing but meaning seven different things. The difference between sacrificing and giving up. Victory at any cost, pyrrhic, hollow. A play for time.

Sacrificing something is good and noble and for the greater need of the many. Giving up is cowardly and shameful. These words are black and white, most of the time. Other words like risk, are more complicated. A risk can pay off or it can put everyone in danger. A risk can be a sacrifice or it can be worse than giving up.

Miller's from a generation that doesn't know what it's like to live without war. To live without the threat of surveillance, both foreign and domestic, enemies listening in or sacrificing privacy for the greater good. Some planets get labelled with the words too, once they're glassed. As a kid, Jared thought it was strange to think anyone gave up their planet, their home, or that somehow the planet gave up. It was the bad guys.

The bad guys are scary and if they find you they will kill you. They destroy your homes and your way of life. They might eat you! They speak a different language and have technology that can kill you before you can blink. That's why you need to be careful and a good citizen. The UNSC is doing its best to keep the colonies safe, but if they would just listen then the bad guys wouldn't get them. That's why you can help be a good citizen and fight the bad guys. All you have to do is sign up when you're 16! You can be a marine or a pilot or drive a tank or maybe even meet one of them. The UNSC needs you, but also it is doing great on its own! The war effort requires everyone! But do not panic, panicking is weak and cowardly and helps the bad guys.

The bad guys are unstoppable, but also weak and stupid. They can't stop the UNSC's greatest weapon.

The Master Chief is a hero and he stops the bad guys. There are other Spartans too and they always win. They never give up. They never die.

Miller enlists. He works hard. He's an asset, not a drain. He won't give up.

The war ends. The news around Master Chief quiets. Miller becomes a Spartan IV. There's always still more work to be done. There are different bad guys now. Some of them look like him.

Miller learns that not every alien is a bad guy. There are asylum seekers on multiple worlds, even Earth. Refugee is another word for asylum seeker.

Miller's in an early enough class of IVs to become a mission handler. He works intelligence and planning. He keeps his head down and ears open. He learns more than he wanted. Sacrificing children. Giving up homes? Childhoods? Giving up requires a choice in the matter. He thinks about it. Sacrificing also implies a choice.

IVs have a choice. He was an adult when he signed on. To be a Spartan. He was still under 18 when he joined the UNSC but that's okay. He knows other Spartans who are in the same boat. Other IVs are older. They have even more skin in the game, they've been fighting the bad guys longer.

The bad guys have changed but that's okay because while they're strong they're weaker than Spartans and Spartans never die. Except Miller has lost Spartans. He's seen whole Fireteams wiped out in an instant. He's heard people dying on worlds a million miles from home for no clear reason.

The bad guys are there because the good guys- the UNSC - are there. Spartans are the UNSC's gun they point at the bad guys. Some of the bad guys are humans again. Some of the aliens are good guys. Why is there still a war? Why do they need Spartans for this? Manufactured conflict.

Sacrifice or giving up? Wasted or Spent?

#asks #zitasaurusrex #my writing #Halo #Spartan Miller #this gets tags bc i think people should look at it

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feliciafancybottom · 1 month

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I haven't been here long and I know, like, no one, and I feel totally stupid sitting here in tears writing a dumb emotional post where I am probably going to overshare and sound like an idiot I guess the positive thing is that no one is likely to read it, I have never been much of an engaging writer. So in my last post I was getting frustrated at myself for procrastinating. I should have just kept that up, but I didn't. I was so proud of myself. Friday night and all day Saturday I forced myself to sit in front of my computer and set up my Etsy store. I even made a banner so it looked pretty. I listed a few things for sale and it took forever, and I was exhausted from forcing myself to focus on something that I really don't enjoy for so long but I did it, and I was so happy that I finally took the step because I'd been putting it off for such a long time. And literally the next day they permanently suspended my account and told me that they would not be giving me an explanation why. Like WTF. I put SO much work into this. I feel like I don't even know. I feel numb.

I used to be a nurse, years ago. I used to live on the other side of the country. Then I met this guy and it's a long story but the end result is that I now live in a different state where I barely know anyone. I'm not with him anymore, thank fuck, but I have severe C-PTSD, s does my youngest kid. I can't work anymore because because my child was always a lot health wise but with C-PTSD on top of everything else they have, they need me around. They rarely go to school because of anxiety. Then they do, I wait in the office because I know they'll only be there an hour or so and I have to drive them home again. Anyway, trying not to overshare. Basically, can't work outside the house. So this Pop Figure thing. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. It's just, I had fun doing it. I thought I wasn't that bad at it. I bought a bunch of old broken ones to practice on. I experimented with different kinds of paints and primers and top coats and clays etc. to figure out what looks best. Then I started making them properly. I still feel like maybe I'm crap at it but I have looked at what people are selling on Etsy and mine are just as good, if not better as the custom Pop figures other people sell on there. It's just hard. I have two disabled kids. I can't work. Their father doesn't give a shit. I'm not trying to be all woe is me but after I pay the rent and bills and food there is nothing left I just wanted to do this so there was a bit extra so everything isn't always so fucking scary and stressful. Fuck. I read their fucking policies. I didn't do anything that violates anything. I hate being such a whiny fucking cry baby but I was was so excited about this. Now it just seems like the last six months of planning and practice has been a gigantic waste of time and money that I couldn't afford. This is the Aziraphale & Snake Crowley I was working on. I was happy with how they were going. They're almost finished. I just have to wait for the epoxy to dry, paint it, and reassemble them but now I don't even want to look at them 😞 I really don't know what I'm going do.

#custom funko pop #funko pop #good omens fanart #good omens #aziraphale #snek crowley #crowley #etsy #fuckyouetsy #sorryIhatebeingawhinycow

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theroyalthrones · 2 months

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Behind the Scenes | Various Locations | Alland, Romagna, Orillia

beginning | previous | next

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Lucian? He's still asleep, he doesn't hear. Maybe have this slide be the sun coming in from the windows. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Luc?

LUCIAN CRIMSON ...Mmm?

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Why haven't you asked me?

2 LUCIAN CRIMSON What?

FRANCESCA ORTEGA The Winter's Gala for the College of Arts. I wanted to go.

LUCIAN CRIMSON Can't we just stay here? It's comfortable... And you're soft...

FRANCESCA ORTEGA ... Are you ashamed of me?

He get's up, he's more awake now

3LUCIAN CRIMSON How could you think that?

FRANCESCA ORTEGA I don't know, maybe it's because all we do is hide in here.

LUCIAN CRIMSON I can't complain

He's on the ground putting on his pants

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Well I can! I'm sorry I'm not some plastic heiress like all the girls you've been with befor-

LUCIAN CRIMSON That's not what I want anyway, Cesca. I want you.

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Then take me to the dance.

He kisses her

LUCIAN CRIMSON I'm sorry, I can't. I have my reasons, trust me. FRANCESCA ORTEGA ...

LUCIAN CRIMSON I'll make it up to you, promise? I'm late to practice, Nic is going to kill me. This is where their kid is probably conceived.

Now they're back in the present. Their in a swanky restuarant. Francesca arrives, the host leads her

FRANCESCA ORTEGA I'm meeting someone, he should be here already.

HOST Right this way. In the back room, Lucian is at the table. He gets up and kisses her cheek. Sitting down, he takes her hand in his. LUCIAN CRIMSON Call me crazy, but I've been thinking. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Oh no, I'm scared.

LUCIAN CRIMSON What if we arrived to our dates together instead of separately.Or Walked in public, with no disguises?

FRANCESCA ORTEGA (mocking sarcasm) I have to lock you up, Luc. That's the craziest thing ever. I'm sure absolutely no one does it. LUCIAN CRIMSON (chuckles) But we don't. She takes her hand back. FRANCESCA ORTEGA You know why, absolutely nothing about you is mundane.

LUCIAN CRIMSON Is there a scale to mundanity? I'm just a Man, Cesca. I could tr-

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Oh please, Luc. That is never in the cards for us. People would talk.

FRANCESCA ORTEGA It wouldn't be good.

LUCIAN CRIMSON People are always talking, Francesca. I'm done letting that effect my life. We've wasted too much time.

LUCIAN CRIMSON I don't want to waste more.

FRANCESCA ORTEGA ...

They leave the restuarant.

LUCIAN CRIMSON We're really doing this again?

FRANCESCA ORTEGA (Sighs) I'll see you at the car.

She sits alone in the dark restuarant room. Sadly. They Drive home silently in the back of a limo. At her apartment, she gets out. But Lucian Grabs her hand

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Lucian! (whisper shout) Someone'll see! LUCIAN CRIMSON (Laughs) Goodnight, Cesca.

FRANCESCA ORTEGA Hurry, Lucian!

#ts4 storytelling #ts4 royal family #ts4 royals #ts4 royalty #royal sims #TheThronesStory #ts4story #sims story #sims storytelling #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #House of Crimson #TheLiars #Sim: Francesca #Sim: Lucian

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xxfangirl365xx · 1 month

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Question: "What is a day you'll never forget?"

Ghoul's answer: The Day we met Show Pony

NOTE: Written in my wattpad a few months ago, i posted Jet's and Kobra's here so here is Ghoulie's (:

Mine predates all of the other guys' stories and it's kinda sappy but why not. Mine was the day I met my fellow prankster Show Pony. Despite popular belief they didn't just roll up and start hanging around with us.

The four of us ( Poison, Kobra ,Jet and I) had been in the zones about a year and had pretty well adjusted to life out in the middle of nowhere. We were on patrol by ourselves, one of the first times Dr.D let us do that alone. Basically we got to drive around all day, nothing usually ever happened. On this day in particular we were on our way home and spotted something off in the distance...Dracs? Possibly. We drew out ray guns and headed over only to be met with a horrifying scene of three people, all fairly young, seemingly dead.

"Dear Destroya" Poison remarked observing the sad scene

They definitely had just escaped the city and made it pretty far into the zones...unfortunately they were unarmed and didn't stand much of a chance.

Jet went to the three and looked to see if by some miracle they were alive. First two were a sad head shake no.

The third person had long dirty tangled black hair and was maybe about 17 years old...about the same age as me. Jet gently grabbed their wrist expecting nothing and were were all shocked when he found a pulse.

" Guys! This one's alive!"

" They're bleeding from somewhere on their head" Kobra noted, hiding behind his brother, scared for who knows what reason.

It's not a secret that I hate blood, I get a paper cut and nearly pass out and the guys make fun of me for it a lot, but this time it didn't bug me, I was much more bothered by the fact this poor kid was now hurt and alone laying next to their dead friends. I wasted no time In gently picking them up and we headed back to the car so we could go back to the diner and hopefully help this kid. I rested their head in my lap to keep them as comfortable as I could on the ride home. I took my vest off and covered them with it because it was getting cold. I felt really bad, you know, I was so lucky to have found a good group to rely on and call my family and I think this made me realize how fortunate I really was. This kid needed a friend and I decided to be that friend.

We got home and I carried their limp body in the diner and laid them on an extra mattress we had.

" YO DR.D" Poison yelled

" What's up boys?" He asked coming into the room a few seconds later ( this was before he hurt his leg)

"We found this wanderer on the route home" Poison explained " Their buddies were dead but they're alive for the time being"

He stood over my shoulder looking at the kid

" Should I call a doctor?" he asked after a second

" Aren't you a doctor?" Kobra asked confused

He laughed, realizing he had never clarified where that title came from

" It's just a name, I ain't got a degree to back it up. I don't know shit about medicine" he continued

" Ohhhhh..." we exclaimed in unison

"I'll call someone" He said leaving the room

I sat next to the kid for a while, just watching the rise and fall of their chest for what seemed like hours until an actual doctor came.

He looked them over before coming to the conclusion they were in perfect health other than a head injury.

" Just keep a close eye on them for the next few days,once they wake up they may be a little out of it but I'm sure they will be okay." He said before him and Dr.D went outside to smoke a cigar and gossip for a while.

" Well, you heard him. I guess they're gonna be alright" Jet said. "Well' I'm gonna go change the tire on the Trans-am, it's got a leak."

" I'll come watch." Poison said , Kobra following right behind his brother

Jet poked his head in the doorway after a second.

"You coming Ghoul?"

" Nah, I'm gonna sit with them." I said

" alright"

I sat for a while enjoying some silence until the kid began to wake up. Of course I had never been in a situation like this before.

I sat next to them and gently moved the hair out of their face.

"Ugghhh-shit" they mumbled groggily

'"Uhhh...Um.." what are you supposed to say in this situation?! " He-y?"

They looked over at me and the first they they said...I kid you not was

" Why do you have a bee on your sleeve?"

I looked at my shirt sleeve..I do have a bee on my shirt. Huh...good observation.

" Who...are you? You look funny." They said again

" I'm Fun ghoul, I'm Killjoy." I explained " what's your name?" I asked, unsure if they could answer that question. To my surprise they answered rather quick

" I've been waiting foreverrr for someone to ask me that. My name's Show Pony." They said slurring their speech.

" Nice to meet you, Show Pony... How ya feeling?"

"I dunno" they giggled

"Looks like you hit your head pretty bad huh?"

" I think so" they said continuing to giggle like a crazy person

" What's so funny?" I asked starting to laugh too

" The room's spinning it's like a carnival ride"

" Oh yeah that is fun- do you like carnivals?"

"Yeah...no clowns though"

" Oh you don't like clowns?"

" nu uh they're creepy and smelly...am I smelly? The dessert is gross." They thought for a second before they started crying

" Am I a clown? I'm weird looking and I smell" they said in between tears

I forgot the kind of wack mood swings that happened when you were going through withdrawals from BLI brainwash drugs.

'"Hey, you're not a clown, don't cry" I said, trying to comfort them.

Without a second though I knelt down further and hugged them.

They stopped for a second and were perfectly still.

" I overstepped and made them uncomfortable!" I said in my head " Oh Ghoul you idiot!"

To my surprise they hugged back and quietly whispered

" Thank you"

I spent the rest of the night doing my best to take care of Show Pony and just chatting and giving them a hard time while they tried to tell lame jokes such as this fun one at 2:07 AM

" Hey Ghoul Knock Knock"

"Who's there?"

" Boo"

" what?"

" Nooo you're supposed to say boo who!"

" Aww don't cry Pony"

" Your a jerk"

Show Pony became very good friends with us all and impressed Dr.D with their intense knowledge of music and when he started his station he made Show Pony his official helper.

So yeah, I love Pony, they're one of my best friends no matter how annoying they can be, one of my favorite people and a part of my large Zone family.

Anyways that's my story, see ya later

-Fun Ghoul

#my chemical romance #mcr #show pony #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #the fabulous killjoys #fun ghoul #party poison #jet star #kobra kid #mcr fanfiction #my chemical fucking romance #danger days

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observeowl · 1 year

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Ghost Dates N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Someone has been sabotaging R dates

Your POV It's been months since Natasha and I broke up. We were arguing and it got too far as we were shouting at one another and in the heat of the moment, we decided to break up. And even though it was tough both for us we were too stubborn to admit that we still love each other.

My sister thought it was about time I got back into the dating scene and set me up with a blind date. I was a little hesitant in doing so as I was meeting a regular citizen and I don't think they'll be patient enough to stay when I'm on a long mission. The whole reason why Natasha and I started arguing - I was tired from a long mission and didn't pay any attention to her as I just wanted to sleep.

"Looking good Y/N." My sister said as I left the room all dressed and ready to go. It's been a while since I dolled up as I'm always in my sweats and baggy shirt.

"Thanks Maria." She gave me the location and I got in my car driving towards it.

Maria POV After seeing Y/N off, I noticed Natasha was nowhere to be seen. She was still here in the living room when Y/N came down. Maybe she went up to her room.

I shrugged and sat on the couch joining the rest at what they're watching. Finally Y/N was able to have sometime to herself and heal after the breakup with Natasha. It's never nice having your sister come running to you after a heartbreak. I didn't allow her to go for any mission because I knew she was going to be reckless and careless about her actions.

A few hours later, Y/N came back but she looked down. The rest of us looked between one another not being able to figure out what could have happened. I thought the date would be good for her but maybe it did the opposite?

"Y/N, how was it?" I asked, seeing as no one else dared.

"I... I don't know." Y/N said as she came and sat next to me when Clint made space for her. "I mean, it was going well at first until she came back from the washroom and couldn't wait to leave."

"It's fine Y/N, maybe she wasn't meant for you as well." Wanda said.

Y/N took a huge sigh and stood up. "I guess so. I'm going to change out of this annoying dress and go to sleep. Goodnight guys." She greeted before leaving.

This was just the first try. Every month I try to set someone up with Y/N and it takes a lot of encouragement and bribing for it to work. As if possessed by the devil, each of the dates ended up the same way. It was as if they had seen a ghost and took their bags and left the venue.

"Maria... I don't want to go on a blind date anymore..." She whined when I presented her with the idea again. "The girls just keep running away as if I am some kind of a disease, why do you have to do this to me?"

"Y/N please... just one last time. One last time and if it doesn't work, I will stop, I promise." I pleaded.

Y/N raised her index finger at me. "One last time. I'm sick and tired of this. Wasting my time." She muttered at the end as she turned to face her closet to find something appropriate to wear.

Natasha POV I have been following Y/N on her dates that Maria has so kindly set up for her. My blood boils whenever I see the girl sitting in front of her that should have been me. Each time I threaten them in the washroom, I make sure they follow my orders or my blade is going to end up on their necks.

This time was no different. I hack into her phone as people these days have no sense of security and use the free internet the restaurant has to offer. After sending an anonymous text to her phone, I waited in the washroom until my target entered.

Once the target entered the washroom, I placed my hands around her mouth and dragged her to a stall. "You will listen as I say." I glared at her and she instantly nodded frantically. "Once you get out, I want you to leave whoever you were meeting and never see her again."

"Did I make myself clear?" I raised my voice slightly but enough so that people outside wouldn't know what's happening. She nodded, tears almost streaming down her face. "Good, I will be watching, don't do any funny moves." I released her and let her exit the stall first until I saw Y/N standing in front, surely hearing all the things that happened.

"Sorry about what happened. You can leave. I would make sure she doesn't do anything to you." Y/N told the girl and held open the door for her to exit. Y/N gave me a glance before exiting herself and getting her things to leave.

"Y/N!" I ran after her.

"How could you do this? Terrorising my dates so that they leave. You really make me feel as if I'm unwanted. Was that your goal?" She turned and shouted.

"Y/N baby."

"Don't call me baby. You lost that right when we broke up." She raised her arm to put some distance between us. "You did this for months and..." She scoffed, not knowing how to continue.

"Because I am still in love with you!"

"So do-, but you don't see me creepingly watching you from afar to the point where I chase people away who are surrounding you." She argued. "This is wrong."

"Tell me... tell me you don't love me anymore and I'll stop."

"Nat... you can't make me do this." She shook her head.

"Just say it."

"I... I still love you."

#natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #no idea how to end it #ghost dates #my writing

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enbyhyena · 8 months

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After witnessing multiple 70-ft tall trees getting utterly decimated across the street this morning, and being almost certain that they're replacing them with a parking lot (I live across the street from a school that's currently being rebuilt to be bigger and house more students), I've suddenly become aware of how much I despise parking lots.

You don't think about them most of the time. Because to you they've always been there; it's rare to actually witness them being put down. Even I'm guilty of this- taking parking lots and their existence and what they *mean* for granted.

But have you ever thought about what might have existed in the parking lot's place, a long time ago? Before it was all torn down and paved over? Around here, trees that get torn down get lumped into a massive pile and burned in the middle of an empty field. They don't even get their lumber repurposed for something good. Not even a woodchipper. Just releasing acres and acres worth of carbon back into the atmosphere. And for what?

A heat-trapping wasteland for people to park their cars on top of. Or in most cases around here, HOAs.

These trees—yes, there are only a few of them in this example. But you can see in my video that they're only maybe 10-15ft away from the street. It wouldn't have been hard to leave the trees intact- to build around them. Or Hell, even relocate them. But no, it's cheaper and easier to squander and utterly waste years and years of growth. It's like buying up all of the meat at the supermarket only to drive to and immediately dump it at the nearest landfill.

If you're going to tear down trees, at least make it fucking MEAN something.

#rant #environment #global warming #climate change #climate action #vent #trees

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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year

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Sotam headcanons please? Platonic or romantic whichever you prefer atm. I just love them haha

I love them too! Their dynamic is among my favorites of the series. I tend to be more canon adherent, but I can certainly try my hand at headcanons!

They've talked via shadowwhispering and telepathy so much that at this point they can near seamlessly read each other's faces

Entire conversations via facial expression without a word passing between them. It drives Keefe mad

Their height difference is perfect for Tam to rest his arm on her shoulder, or his chin on her head. Sophie's indignant about it at first, but has softened with time

What hasn't softened is their humor. It only gets more sarcastic and teasing with time. Everyone else they know always tells them off for their brand of dark humor, so they fully indulge each other

This is sometimes done via facial expression

They frequently do homework together, partially because Tam despises it and Sophie is trying to be a good role model so he has a good reputation with his teachers and the grades they give will be in his favor. Homework's worth is an ongoing debate between them, Sophie's argument being that the fact he's at Foxfire at all after everything is incredible, so he shouldn't waste it

Tam's argument is that homework sucks

He's winning the debate, Sophie just refuses to admit she's wrong

They're the first person the other hails in the middle of the night when they can't sleep. They're more likely than anyone else to still be awake, and they long ago stopped feeling bad that they might wake the other

Those late night hails are something between just the two of them. They can talk about anything and everything, no judgement, no expectations, no regrets

Sometimes those hails end in late night visits, going to one house or the other to sit in quiet comfort, or to continue their conversation face to face

Maybe instead of a house, they'll end up somewhere outside. A beach, a mountainside, a forest, a meadow, anywhere in the world where they can be alone and forget about their troubles

It always a little easier to sleep after they've talked, or visited. Though it can be confusing to their parents when they wake and find an extra kid in the house, but they never have the heart to mind

I'll stop there, but these can be interpreted as any kind of relationship. They're have other people and supports in their life, but they occupy a certain kind of dark, secret content space. They rely on each other, support each other, make each other worse (in a good way). They're so so special to me <3

#kotlc #kotlc headcanons #sotam #quil's queries #literaturewithliz #i don't know if I'm articulating their dynamic well but it makes sense to me #it's them #i have little experience with headcanons so I hope these are to your satisfaction :)#and thank you for your patience with me as I answer this

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depressedfish · 14 days

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Hey FRC people!

I'm bored and tired of packing for Houston, so I thought I'd do a quick writeup of some Ontarian teams that'll be there! Hopefully you can find some new teams to watch and watch out for. Do note that this post is NOT a suitable replacement for good pit scouting. Teams may have fixed their robots from the last time I saw them compete. Also, these are not all the ontario teams, just the ones I've seen play so far. With that out of the way, let's start with...

Team 2056: OP Robotics

They certainly live up to their name.

Statbotics Rank: 1

FUN Rank: 2

EPA: 58.9

Common name: OP

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Galileo

I mean, what else is there to say about them that hasn't been said before? OP Robotics has always been a top competitor in Ontario, let alone the whole world. They have an incredibly well designed robot, with one of the cleanest swerves I've ever seen. Sure, they can't trap, but they can make up for it by a mile with the metric ton of notes they put out. There are a few chinks in the armor: the aforementioned trap, a slightly slow amp shot, and how their robot can pretty easily be pushed around, but who cares? They certainly don't. Did I forget their former world record of 155 clean?

Team 2200: MMRambotics

Ramming through the competition.

Statbotics Rank: 69 (nice)

FUN Rank: 46

EPA: 38.5

Common name: Rambotics

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Curie

Sleek, compact, and fast as hell. Rambotics have been a top contender in Ontario for a long time now, and it's easy to see why. They can trap, 5 note, and has one of the fastest amp shots. Very, VERY scary team to go up against. They've had some consistency issues throughout the season, unfortunately. However, that does not stop them from being a major threat on whatever alliance they're on. My advice? Just cycle.

Team 3683: Team DAVE

These guys aren't your average Joes.

Statbotics Rank: 73

FUN Rank: 35

EPA: 37.9

Common name: Dave

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Galileo

While they may have a pretty boring name, don't let that fool you into thinking that they're not one of the best robots in the world. Together with OP and 2702, they set a former world record of 155 clean, and that's only the beginning. They have a very fast trap, clean swerve, consistent 4 and 5 notes, and maybe 6 if I'm remembering right. They've been consistent throughout the season, and are a major major threat on any alliance. Again, like rambotics: just cycle.

Team 4946: The Alpha Dogs

The dogs are in the house. And by god, they're barking.

Statbotics Rank: 85

FUN Rank: 62

EPA: 37

Common Name: Alpha Dogs

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Archimedes

With two* of the most controversial robots of the year and some great placings, these dogs are continuing to learn new tricks. And yes, you heard that right. TWO. WHOLE. (NOT) ROBOTS. Using a loophole in G209 that states that a robot counts as a robot only if it has a drive train, they have two whole configurations. It's so insanely cool. While I have heard that they may not be bringing it to worlds, that still won't count them out from doing well. They have fairly consistent 4 and 5 note autos, which have had some consistency issues. However, they more than make up for it in teleop, with one of the best drivers out there. They can also trap consistently on their main configuration (as of Ontario DCMP). Do not even THINK of defending them, it's just a waste of time. These dogs have a damn good bite, and will show up in any alliance.

Team 3161: Tronic Titans

Shooting notes in style.

Statbotics Rank: 130

FUN Rank: N/A (I swear they were on there i might be blind)

EPA: 35.1

Common Name: Tronic

Last event I saw them at: Humber

Division: Archimedes

You can recognize them across the venue with their signature black and gold capes, but style isn't all they've got. This team is incredibly consistent, with a very good amp shot and a solid 4 note auto. Just a very very consistent robot all around. They'll always do their part and more on any alliance.

Team 4907: Thunderstamps

If you've heard the clap, it's already too late.

Statbotics Rank: 163

FUN Rank: N/A (again I swear they were there)

EPA: 34.1

Common name: Stamps, TStamps

Last event I saw them at: Windsor

Division: Galileo

You may know them as the jumping robot from 2022, but this team isn't a one trick pony. They've been plauged with a streak of bad luck, mired with consistency issues, but they keep plodding along. They have a very good 4 and 5 notes autos, and a trap to boot. These racehorses may qualify as a dark horse this worlds, but that by no means means they're out.

Team 7558: ALT-F4

If you're up against them, try using that shortcut to end the match sooner.

Statbotics Rank: 200

FUN Rank: N/A

EPA: 32.7

Common name: Alt-f4

Last event I saw them at: Humber

Division: Galileo

One of the newer teams on the block, and took me by surprise in 2023. This year however, they've had a little less luck. With some auto and consistency issues, they've not had as good a run as I know they can. Their turret can beam notes like it's water, and autos can be smooth as butter. Keep a close eye on them.

Team 5885: Villanova WiredCats

All wired up and ready to roar.

Statbotics Rank: 261

FUN Rank: N/A

EPA: 31.2

Common name: wiredcats

Last event I saw them at: Windsor

Division: Milstein

These kitties are the all around picture of a solid robot. With a pretty unique back shooter that allows them to amp fairly quick, and some solid autos, they'll pack a punch on the field.

Team 1114: Simbotics

All hail the kings/queens/themperors.

Statbotics Rank: 268

FUN Rank: 44

EPA: 31

Common name: Sim, Simbots

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Milstein

Two time former world champions. Hall of fame team. Has a ship name with OP. They've done it all. And they build robots like it. Simbotics hasn't been as good as of late, but that doesn't mean they're fully washed. They're still a very very scary robot to be looking at, and the numbers don't reflect that at all. Just keep in mind their auto inconsistencies.

Team 5406: Celt-X

The mean green machine.

Statbotics Rank: 271

FUN Rank: 95

EPA: 30.9

Common name: celtex (thats like how its pronounced leave me alone)

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Johnson

Celt-X is another really really consistent and pretty darn scary robot in its own right. With very solid 4 note autos and the ability to trap, it makes them good already. Their major selling point is a very fast amp shot, allowing for more amp cycles than what you might expect.

Team 4920: Belle River Boltheads

These nuts and bolts will break your bones.

Statbotics Rank: 377

FUN Rank: N/A

EPA: 28.6

Common name: Boltheads

Last event I saw them at: Windsor

Division: Daly

The boltheads have been a very solid and consistent robot this year. They have a good 4 note, and a good amp shot, and a good teleop. However, they were having some issues with their shooter at the end of Windsor, but that won't stop them at worlds.

Team: 1241: THEORY6

The dark horses of Canada.

Statbotics Rank: 799

FUN Rank: N/A

EPA: 22.5

Common name: T6, Theory 6

Last event I saw them at: Ontario DCMP

Division: Galileo

These former world champions have had a very unfortunate streak. With their turret being broken during the first day and a bit of DCMPs, along with auto issues and swerve issues, it was looking doomed for their Worlds run. But then. They were first pick for 4946 at DCMPs. Was it Faith? Pity? The memes? Whatever it was, Theory 6 proved themselves very worthy of that pick. Once their shooter gets up and running, it can turn itself into a mini 254. Keep a very very close eye on this team, and if noone gets them, snag them while you can.

And that's it! feel free to tag or add any US teams that I might not know or have heard about, I'd love to know who to watch! Good luck to all competing!

#frc robotics #frc #frc crescendo #frc 2024 #first robotics competition #first world championships

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oldsargasso · 17 days

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WinnerDean spy AU?

thank youuuu I love you 🥺 sorry for taking days to answer lol I have been. so sick.

five VERY LONG facts...honestly this is just a story outline at this point. TW for violence

the first time they meet it's because Dean's been sent on his first solo mission, instead of Babe or Way getting it done. and he's so proud of himself - finally Alan has recognised how hard he's been working! sure it's not like Babe (currently holed up at home with a broken leg) or Way (currently undercover as a high-end ~companion) could have been sent anyway...still. Dean was the one Alan pulled from the team and sent out into the field all on his own. and he's going a great job---bypasses all the security measures, is in the CEO's office with his password being cracked as Dean pokes around the desk drawers---when the door opens and the number 1 ranked agent at X Hunter's rival agency saunters in.

2. Winner had incredible scores throughout his stint at the academy. But X Hunter has some more avant garde recruitment practices and Winner's not bitter about it at all. Working at RDR means he stays number one, big fish in a small pond kind of thing. His talents are being wasted looking after the very lucrative contract Tony's hired them on for; officially it's "locating and correcting weaknesses in the security framework" but it's really corporate espionage. and it's boring as hell. Winner hates it. why become a spy if not to go around guns blazing and driving dangerously and seducing hot targets? turns out there's a lot more paperwork and sending phishing emails and standing around waiting for people to leave their office in actuality. that is, until Winner makes the usual midnight loop around the top-floor offices and finds something very interesting. (Winner's a little miffed that X Hunter didn't even bother sending their top agent for this job.)

3. Tony offers Alan a deal: give Tony Babe, and Dean gets released with nary a scratch.

Alan doesn't take the deal.

Winner doesn't care, about the deal or Babe or the way Tony's aide keeps hovering around like he wants to say something and definitely not about the pretty agent he captured. But he DOES care that Tony has his own guys doing the interrogation. Like why even hire Winner and his agency if not for something exactly like this? So he hacks into the security feed and finds Tony's guys aren't even asking questions. It's like they're just ...playing almost, landing blows all over the agent's body while his arms are held so he can't protect himself, both eyes blackened and blood dripping to the floor from his torn-up mouth. And Winner notices someone else in the system too. They've covered their tracks very well---unfortunately for North there's only a handful of people that can cover their tracks like that. It pisses Winner off: any good agency would have gotten their guy out, or at least gotten him a bullet---instead X Hunter is just watching? Listening to the sounds of Dean gasping for breath after another interminable minute of being held underwater? Winner kicks North out of the system and patches the weak point and decides to cater to his own particular moral code.

4. Dean doesn't break. He doesn't talk. He clings to the hope of getting out (and then he hopes for it to end). He repeats to himself that Alan wouldn't have left him here if he didn't think Dean could handle it. Alan has faith in Dean so Dean will have faith in Alan. And he manages to keep it up for a few days, or maybe a week---the only way of tracking time is the comings and goings of Tony's guys, and Dean's not sure they have a set schedule. He hurts all over. There's no position he can sleep in that doesn't have his ribs screaming at him, and the comments from Tony's men have started to get very pointed in a way that has his skin crawling. Dean knows the protocol, and he should have gotten at least a message by now. It's easier then, to give up a little, and let his anger and bitterness turn to apathy and carry him through.

5. Winner's favourite thing about being a spy? The vast array of beautiful guns he has access to. He was top of his class when it came to shooting, and taking out five guys before any of them manage to fire back is barely enough to spark any satisfaction. Dean doesn't answer when Winner asks if he can walk, so Winner just slings him over one shoulder and makes his leisurely way out. He's planted enough explosives around Tony's estate that every man is going to be completely occupied elsewhere.

He does run into Kenta on his way to the exit---Winner doesn't shoot, because the guy is armed with a knife and that's not a fair fight---and Kenta just nods at him, like. with approval. Weird guy, but probably has to be to have worked for Tony for so long.

And then when Winner makes it to the garage North and Sonic are waiting there? with a guy Winner distinctly remembers seeing tied up in Tony's office a few weeks ago. And they just take Dean from him and drive away??

So Winner goes back inside and shoots a few more people. He finds Tony's body, and Kenta kneeled next to it, and is like "well I have an empty seat in my car now..." and then they drive away.

(bonus fun fact is that Babe and Charlie are having a whole Mr and Mrs Smith AU thing going on in the background)

#pit babe #winnerdean #jeff had a vision how it would all play out btw #the Alan not taking a deal thing has been living in my head in a post-apocalyptic AU for weeks now so I'm using it here

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