#this is a great community and I stand by it

[barcaatthemoon]

the truth iii || leah williamson x reader ||

your first time back in spain after joining arsenal.

this is the final part to the truth. hope that anybody who followed along, enjoyed themselves.

it felt like a dream to be a part of the champion's league again. at first, you had been over the moon about everything. that is until you got the courtesy text from the barcelona girls that jenni was coming to the games. you knew to partially expect that. she may have left, but she was still going to support her friends at barcelona.

"hey, we're about to land," leah said softly as she nudged you. the last that she had known, you were fast asleep against her shoulder. the flight wasn't a very long one, but you had been eager to catch up on some sleep. "are you ready?"

"as i'll ever be." leah frowned at your response. she had watched you freak out after the texts had come in. it wasn't enough for jenni to come to barcelona to watch the champion's league final, but she had also made alexia ask if you'd join them.

you knew that she had asked other girls first, but most of them had refused to talk to you on her behalf. ona had even gone as far as to block the older player for nearly three weeks. alexia was the only one who had told you that, mainly as a courtesy since laia had also been invited. she didn't want you to feel left out, even if she knew the last thing you wanted to do was go out for dinner with your ex.

"hey, everything will be fine love, i promise," leah said as she gave you a peck on the cheek. "i know that we haven't really said anything to anybody else, but my offer still stands if you want me to come."

"are you sure?" you asked her. leah nodded. she knew that you'd need support, something to make sure that you didn't go running back to jenni. your national team friends would be doing that as well, but having leah there would be grounding for you.

things with leah were nothing like they had been with jenni. leah was a great fit for you. sometimes she could be a little shaky with communication, but with some gentle pushing, she'd open right up for you. leah had helped you gain back a lot of the confidence that jenni had seemingly stolen away after the breakup. she made you feel safe in a way that you had never known before.

"i love you," leah muttered as she pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

"i love you too," you told her. moments later, the plane landed and the two of you were shuffling off of it.

…

"and the traitor has arrived!" mapi shouted as you walked with laia and leah towards the table. you knew that she was joking, as she was the first of your old club teammates to run over to hug you. she wrapped her arms around you tightly, and it was only alexia and sandra's hugs that rivaled mapi's.

"i see that you brought someone with you," cata teased as she slung her arm over your shoulder. you glanced over towards leah, who was standing sort of awkwardly behind you. "care for proper introductions?"

"leah, these are our opponents. opponents, this is my girlfriend, leah," you said. actually saying the words made your chest swell with pride. leah stepped forward and took your hand as she waved with her other.

"when did this start?" alexia asked, motioning between the two of you. truthfully, you had fallen a bit out of contact with everybody back in spain. it was hard to keep up after having cut all contact in germany. laia would remind you about answering texts, but that was only because some of your less reserved teammates would pester her constantly.

"seven months," you answered confidently. "she is good to me, i love her."

"unfortunately that does not stop captain talks." alexia and irene both stood up, ushering leah out with them. you took a seat next to ona and lucy, who were trying to hold hands under the table discreetly. that left the seat next to keira open for leah to take whenever she came back.

"so, you and leah?" lucy asked. there was a small smile on her face, one that didn't completely hide her surprise. ona had mentioned that you were dating one of her english teammates, but lucy had assumed it was alessia. that had been originally who ona tried to set you up with at arsenal, but your chemistry with leah had been undeniable.

"it's good to see you happy," jenni said. everybody glared at her, as if she had no right to speak to you. you understood and appreciated their protectiveness, but it felt unneccessary. "i am glad that you are doing okay."

"thank you, jenni," you said. the reply felt forced. you could tell that she wanted to ask for a moment alone with you, but nobody else at the table would have let that happen. you were honestly shocked that sandra and cata hadn't tried to squeeze you in between them.

an awkward quiet washed over the table as your girlfriend returned with your captains. leah took the empty seat in between you and keira, who immediately started to interrogate leah about your relationship. you smiled listening to leah tell keira and the rest of the table stories about your first couple of dates and when she realized that she loved you.

it should have been perfect, but you couldn't stop the guilt that gnawed at you. jenni sat quietly towards the head of the table. she looked rough, worse than you could ever remember seeing her. even after everything that had happened during the world cup, she hadn't looked this bad. it seemed that jenni was finally coming to terms with the fact that you were really done with her.

you had once been so caught up in her that she didn't think it would ever be possible. somehow, you had moved away and moved on with someone else. jenni had to admit that leah really was perfect for you in all of the ways that she hadn't been. the two of you were different enough to work out well. you and jenni had been too similar, which was fun at first, but it quickly became a problem. jenni knew how to hurt you in ways that would never occur to leah.

"excuse me, i should head back to my hotel." jenni rose from the table without much fanfare. you watched her leave, itching to follow her out to talk to her. leah watched you carefully, unsure of what to do. it terrified her to let you go out there, but she knew that you needed to get some things off of your chest.

"go, talk to her. i'll be out to check on you in five," leah whispered in your ear. you hesitated but left when she gave you a small nod. everybody stared at leah like she had just grown a second head.

"you're a better woman than i am williamson," lucy said as she watched you walk out of the restaurant.

"she needs this, i have to let it happen. i have to trust that she'll come back to me." leah took some deep breaths to steady her nerves. she could go into the world's most important football game calm as ever, but this was making her heart pound in her chest.

"jenni, what happened? a year ago you were doing fine. what's changed?" you asked your ex. jenni had come outside and promptly sat down on the sidewalk. you stood behind her, unsure of how close to get. you didn't want to give her the wrong impression, knowing that she had been drinking a bit over dinner.

"you've got a girlfriend, and it looks serious. you moved on, and i'm still stuck here thinking about you constantly. every single day something reminds me of you, and it sets me back to square one. i've tried to find someone to settle down with because that's all i want, but i can't stand anybody for more than a few weeks because they're not you," jenni rambled. she looked up at you with tears in her eyes, ones that she had been waiting to shed until you were with her. she wanted you to dry her tears and tell her that you'd come back, but that was never going to happen.

"i am sorry that you are going through this, i am, but there is nothing i can do anymore. i have leah, and i love her more than i've ever loved anybody. we were good together, great sometimes, but it was always so physical. it wasn't easy, but i learned how to step away from that with leah. you need to find someone who doesn't just want to fuck you. find somebody to talk to," you told her.

"i don't want to talk to anybody, but you."

"we never did much talking jenni. it's not what you want to hear, but maybe you need to grow up. there's more to relationships than fucking, but i don't know if you're ready to accept that kind of truth." you had heard about her relationship with alexia, the last one that had really been serious from the sounds of it. "maybe i'm not the one you should be talking to."

"go back inside please," jenni grumbled. she sounded serious, far more serious than what you had ever heard before. you went back inside, catching leah as she made her way to come bring you in. the two of you sat down at the table together, leah integrating you into the bit of conversation she'd started with some of barcelona's defenders on who was the most frustrating striker they'd ever had to mark.

you hadn't done much defending in your career, especially not whenever your coaches had discovered your speed. they had quickly pushed you from the backline to the front lines. mapi and ona both complained directly about you, inciting the whole table to start telling leah all sorts of stories about you from your barcelona days. it was nice, and if you noticed alexia slip outside, you didn't mention it, even going as far as to distract everybody with a youth team story or two.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd fic #bob x you #bob x reader

[rendy-a]

Here it is! The winner of the reverse trope poll: Accidentially kidnapping a mafia boss! I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy it as well!

An Accidental Deal

'Think of the puppies and kittens,' you tell yourself sternly. You stand outside of Ramshackle Shelter and try to psych yourself up for this confrontation. Countless affirmations run through your head. You can do this! The question still remains in your head; when they arrive, will you be able to do it?

The news has been tremendously shocking to all the volunteers: Ramshackle Shelter was all but sold to an entrepreneur to build a branch of a popular ocean-themed cafe. You'd heard of Mostro Lounge but never dared go to such a place. Not because the cafe wasn't nice sounding, no, it was due to the owner. It was an open secret among the residents of your city that the sly restaurateur Azul Ashengrotto was, in fact, mafia boss Don Azul. And now that scummy bastard was this close to shutting down your shelter.

You'd protested at city hall to block the zoning (failure), written to the paper to get the community to object (failure) and tried to raise funds to buy the place yourself (failure). Now, you were down to extreme measures only. So, this was it; you were really going to kidnap someone. You pat the pocket of your jacket where you have a cloth soaked in chemicals to knock someone out. Just one small thing stands in your way, abject fear.

Don Azul was terrifying. You'd expected an aura of danger and power, but when you saw the teal-haired gentleman step from the limo and adjust his hat, you realized you'd grossly underestimated him. He looks like he could bite your arm off... and would probably enjoy it. By contrast, the silver-haired fellow who emerges next in plain shirt sleeves seems far more kidnappable. 'Why can't you be Don Azul?' you think sadly. You watch from your alley hiding spot as the formidable Don and his secretary(?) head inside to inspect the building.

You hurriedly cross the street and slip into the side entrance. You had all the access codes from your years of volunteering, so it was easy for you to navigate the halls quietly and arrive behind the little inspection party. The two men were talking, and the secretary was gesturing in a way that made you feel like they were discussing how to set up the space. After they threw you and the animals out. You grit your teeth and scowl silently at the figure of Don Azul and pat your pocket again; he'd get what was coming to him soon enough.

Then, in a moment that takes your breath away, Don Azul looks up and into a mirror on the wall. For a moment, you think you meet his mis-matched eyes. You feel your heartbeat race as you enter panic mode. Then the Don sneezes, which breaks the illusion. You back your way down the hall and into a storeroom. Maybe you couldn't do this after all. There was no way you could face down that man when you couldn't even stand to meet his gaze.

You need a Plan B. Fast. The adrenaline causes you to shake and you rest your shivering form against a wall to think.  What can you still do in this moment? You tap your pocket with the cloth, all set up to abduct someone. Well, that's a waste. Or was it? Your mind strays from the intimidating Don Azul to his companion, the secretary. Was a mafia secretary worth anything as a hostage? You consider the possibility that he might know a great deal of Don Azul's secrets.  Maybe that was enough to negotiate for them to leave this place alone?

You hear barking from beyond the hall and guess they've opened the door leading to the dog kennels. In this moment you are decided; for the animals, you can do this. You were kidnapping that little secretary of Don Azul’s. The barking intensifies and then fades to a dull drum. You figure they've gone in back and closed the separating door. It's the perfect time for you to get into some sort of position out front for an ambush. You creep into the entrance room and jump back when you nearly bump into Mr. Secretary. He seems as surprised to see you as you are to see him. His light blue eyes flicker to the door where the frightening Don had disappeared.

"Didn't go in with the boss?" you mutter softly. "The boss?" he questions quietly before his eyes return to the door, and he puts it together. "Ah, yes. I'm sensitive to the dirty, ah, I mean, delightful animals." You scowl at him, "They aren't dirty. And they are a lot more charming than you."  The mild man gives a shrug of his eyebrows as though to say, ‘If you say so.’  He seems tired as he sighs heavily and gives you a once over.  You’d guess he’s done this any number of times while by the Don’s side.  He is experienced and appears to have sized you up in one simple glance.  “I take it you were affiliated with the location’s prior business?”  This rubs you the wrong way and you whisper shout back, “Its not ‘the location,’ its Ramshackle Shelter and I’m not so sure it’s a prior business either!  I’ve got some points to talk over with your boss!” 

The man gives you a pitying smirk and another sizing glance.  You appear to have been found wanting as he replies, “Is that so?” in a condescending tone.  You frown hard, both angry and embarrassed at the interaction.  “Anyway, it’s not up to you.  I’m not here to make deals with some nobody secretary,” you tell him mockingly.  His eyes widen for a moment and then you see the visible effort he makes to hold in his laughter.  Ok, this has gone on far enough.  Plus, you need to make sure you leave before the evil Don returns.  You approach him in what you hope is a decent appearance of menace, “You better just come along quietly.”  Finally, he appears to take you seriously as you see his chest expand to take in a large breath before a shout.  Unfortunately for Mr. Secretary, you prove faster and thrust the cloth from your pocket over his mouth before he can sound the alarm. 

It works like a charm and the small man is very easily knocked out.  You run to the storage room and drag out a flat-bed cart used to haul animal kennels back and forth between the entry and back.  On the cart is a large and empty kennel big enough to hold a great dane, so you figure one skinny secretary will fit pretty well too.  Except, passed out mafia secretaries are significantly more difficult to shove in a kennel than a dog.  You heave and shove his limp form until you mentally decide he isn’t so small after all.  Fortunately, you manage to get him marginally concealed in the kennel and out the back before you hear the barking of dogs that signals the Don’s return.  Time to hustle this cart down the back alley and into the waiting warehouse. 

After getting your (not so little) secretary back to the warehouse, you look at him laying limp in the kennel and decide that’s a little too cruel for your taste.  So, again, you take the effort to haul his limp form from the kennel and get him settled in what appears to be a reasonably comfortable position on a chair.  Then you take a seat in another chair to wait for him to regain consciousness.  Plus, you need the time to plan.  Before, all your ideas had stemmed from having Don Azul as your hostage.  Now that you only had his secretary, you were no longer sure how to even let him know that.  Can you just call up the mafia and ask to speak to the Don?  That…didn’t feel like a real thing. 

You were pondering your options when a groan brings your attention to your hostage.  You wait for him to open his eyes, place a tentative hand to his head and groggily ask you what happened.  “I kidnapped you, of course,” you cockily reply.  He holds up his unbound hands in front of him, “Shouldn’t you have at least tied me up then?”  You feel your mouth fall open as you look forlornly at the hands held out for you to see.  “Are you going to keep gaping like that?  I might mistake you for a guppie,” he states in a cold tone.  You slam your hand against a crate and shout, “Better watch that language or I’ll have you singing with the fishes!” 

He gives you a startled look and then starts to laugh, “Singing?  I think you mean sleeping.”  Ok, this could be going better, but you can’t back down now!  “I said singing!  Maybe I want to hear you sing me a little song, beautiful.  I’ve got to get the most out of my little captive princess before I turn her back over to her family,” you finish with a mocking leer.  The barest hint of ‘beautiful?’ can be heard coming from the secretary’s mouth.  You point at him and declare, “You’ve got two options; stay over there and start talking or walk your pretty little self over here and sing me a song.  What’s it going to be, Princess?” 

The man gives you a look from deep beneath his long lashes and says, “Those are quite the options.”  Then he flushes and gives you another one of those sizing up looks.  This time, it takes him several minutes to make up his mind, which you suppose is an improvement.  Finally, he narrows his eyes in challenge and says, “Very well, if that’s how you’d like it,” and stands.  You don’t quite know what to do when he marches over and sits in your lap.  Then he looks at you coyly and whispers, “Did you have any requests?”  This certainly wasn’t in your plan.  You shrug helplessly and finally from the depths of your throat you hear, “Row, Row, Row your Boat?” emerge from your mouth.  The corner of his lips curl up momentarily before he schools his expression, “Of course, as you wish.”  Then he begins singing. 

You feel silly for having requested such a childish song but, to his credit, he gives it a serious effort.  And he sings amazingly.  You listen attentively and when he finishes, you apologize, “I’d clap but I’m afraid that would knock you from my lap.”  He smiles for a moment before replying in a serious tone, “That is an important point to consider.  Perhaps you could join me in a verse instead.”  Then he runs his thumb along your bottom lip with a coy gaze and breathlessly starts another round of Row, Row, Row your Boat.  You feel a bit silly, but it would be rude to refuse after all that, so you timidly join him.  When you finish, he smiles, “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  You suddenly remember that he is The Enemy and frown sternly.  “Come now,” he chides playfully, “I’m just pointing out that I’m not that difficult to work with, Angelfish.” 

“If you lot were so reasonable to work with, then why is my shelter being closed down!” you shout with tears forming in your eyes.  You hate this feeling, like you are the vulnerable one when he is the one who is kidnapped.  He looks deeply into your wavering eyes and finally sighs, “That place is really important to you, isn’t it?”  You look up at him and answer passionately, “Not just for me but for all the animals.  They have nowhere else to go.  No one to look after them.  If we turn them away, what will happen to them?”  You can’t stand to look at his sympathetic gaze and turn to look at the floor instead, “Your boss’s café could go anywhere.  Why take this from me?  From them?” 

The man, who you decide is far more gentle than you originally thought, appears to genuinely be considering your argument.  For the first time since you met him, you give him one of your friendly smiles, “I know it isn’t your fault.  You aren’t the boss.”  Then you pat him gently on the back.  “Don’t worry about it too much.  I’m going to fix this somehow.”  His breath catches and he whispers, “You just might at that.”  You give him a grateful look, “At least someone has confidence in me.  I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess up all day.”  The gently man is having none of this, “I don’t know what you mean, Angelfish, you seem to be doing quite well from my perspective.”  You laugh and give him a grateful smile, “Well thanks for that.  I think I needed some cheering up.” 

The kind (you’ve upgraded him to kind) man gives you a small caress on the cheek, “Is there anything I can do to help?”  You look deep into his beautiful eyes and remark, “I wouldn’t mind another song.”  He brushes a stray hair from your forehead and begins to sing again. 

And that is when they find you.  An amused chuckle from the door alerts you to his presence and you stop your duet immediately to turn, horrified, to face Don Azul.  You fearfully meet the eyes of the lovely man in your lap and stammer, “It..its Don Azul, he found us.”  Your statement causes the intimidating man to open his mis-matched eyes wide.  Then, he bursts out into an unhinged laugh.  Your fear compounds exponentially when you hear another voice emerge from the unguarded back entrance, “What’s so funny?  Go ahead, I’m in the mood for a joke.”  You turn your head and can’t help but blurt out, “Holy shit, there’s two of them!”

Your companion gives a resigned sigh and stands up, “Jade, Floyd.  Come along.  We’re leaving now.”  You look up at him, entirely overwhelmed.  He meets your eye and then smiles sadly, “In case you aren’t quite finished with me yet.”  Then he reaches into his breast pocket, retrieves a small case and extracts a business card.  He slips it gently into your hand and then walks confidently past the intimidating man (Jade?  Floyd?) and out the door.  The frightening twins give you amused (and terrifying) smiles as they silently turn and follow him out the door.  It is several minutes before you regain your senses enough to turn over the card in your hand.  It reads in flowing script: Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of Mostro Lounge.

-Several months later-

You sit at your desk and page through another document.  In the background, the sound of barking dogs is almost soothing to your ears.  Then, a nervous volunteer practically runs into your office, “Director!  Someone is here.  I…I think he might mean to tear up the place!”  You calmly look up from your desk, “And then serve you tea afterward or burn the place down?”  The volunteer looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.  A moment later, a fearful comprehension crosses their face as they mutter, “Oh my god, there are two of them!”  You nod, so, it’s both. 

 When the pair of twins saunter into your office, you smile welcomingly, “Jade, Floyd.  How nice it is to see you today.”  Floyd comes around the desk to drape an arm over your shoulders, “Hey Shrimpy, bossman sent us to pick you up.”  You nod agreeably, “That’s right.  Its opening night.”  Jade places a palm to his chest, “The newest branch of Mostro Lounge will be most delighted to have the Director’s patronage for this special occasion.”  You nod and direct them to wait out front as you finish things up back here. 

When they leave, the fear struck volunteer questions you, “Who were they?  They look like the mafia!”  You shrug, “As far as I know, they are just employees of Mostro Lounge.  As far as I know.”  They give you a look, “Isn’t that the place that nearly shut us down a few months ago?”  You grab your long purple jacket and give them a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yeah but we’ve come to an agreement since then.”  The volunteer gives you a considering look and backs a half-step away, as though suddenly wondering if they’d misjudged the familiar Director of Ramshackle Shelter.

You understand, you’d been there before, so you pay them no mind.  Brushing past the volunteer to flick off the light, letting them hide in the darkness of your office.  Then you head out and wave to your waiting escort, “Come on boys.  I’ve got a date with the princess.  Time to make him sing for me.”  Your inside joke never fails to amuse them, and they laugh appreciatively. Your relationship was a complicated thing.  You weren’t sure who was supposed to be the hero or the villain in the whole story but, you supposed, you didn’t really care.  Floyd held the door of the long black limo for you, and you stepped inside.  You could ponder the morality of the whole thing later; you had your Princess waiting for you tonight.  And, if you were lucky, you’d have Azul sing your song for you again.  Ah, life was but a dream.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #reverse tropes

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Family Drama

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

To Abarxsis one’s family was something sacred and meant to be treasured. It contained those who were with you from the first moments of your age and would join you along your journey through time longer than any friend or colleague could. It was a feeling he held onto greatly and shaped the foundation of who he was. It was a trait he was glad to see shared amongst many humans as they too sought out family to such an extreme that they would pack bond with anyone or anything to obtain that sense of unity. Yet it was with some great surprise that when he inquired about his human lovers’ family they would refuse to even mention them.

 Whenever the topic of family was brought up their mood would shift like a switch had been flipped and all the joy and expression of them would bleed away and be replaced with a cold chill. Abarxsis learned that it was unwise to bring up the topic, but he still could not let it go until he knew why they were so against their own kin.

One night, Abarxsis was watching human entertainment while his lover slept and saw a strange situation unfold. The protagonist, like his lover, also was estranged from their family and refused to meet them. So the other characters surprised them by inviting their family over without telling them so the two parties could reunite and make peace once more.

This notion of restoring unity gave Abarxsis the idea that he could do the same for his lover and so he set out to track them down himself. It took several months of messages and follow ups until finally he had tracked down their family. When he mentioned that he wished for them to reunite they were thrilled at the prospect and agreed to meet them for dinner.

The day finally came and Abarxsis had taken his lover out under the pretext of a romantic dinner. When the pair arrived the rest of the family was already waiting at the table. They stood and smiled as the pair approached and extended hands of friendship, but Abarxsis noticed his lover had remained frozen at the doorway.

A myriad of emotions went across their face as their eyes focused on the family. Their hands tightened into fists as they looked slowly from the table to Abarxsis, who was still smiling, and glared at him.

“You did this?” she asked through clenched teeth.

The smile quickly fell away from Abarxsis’s face as he realized something was very much wrong.

“Abarxsis did.” He confirmed. “Abarxsis saw how talking of family upset Kelly, so Abarxsis-“

Kelly turned and left the room without hearing out the rest of his reasoning. He turned back and saw Kelly’s family looking confused and went after his lover. She stood out in front of the restaurant pulling out her communicator to summon a hover cab.

“What is wrong?” Abarxsis asked as he came up behind her. Kelly’s head turned to him to see it now awash with rage and anger….and betrayal, much to Abarxsis’s surprise.

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about my family.” Kelly began, her fists still clenched tight. “I had made it perfectly clear that I had no desire to speak with them, or speak of them, or even be near them from the moment we met.”

“Abarxsis know’s this-“  Abarxsis began but Kelly held up a hand to forestall him.

“You don’t speak,” she remarked harshly, “just stand there and listen because I am about to be as fucking direct as I can possibly be.”

Kelly only swore to Abarxsis when she was truly angry so Abarxsis remained silent as she continued.

“My family……”,she stopped and collected her thoughts for a moment as if a torrent of words wished to flow all at the same time from her mouth, “are nothing but parasites; and I have not wanted them near them since the day I left their hellhole of a home.”

“They have leached off me financially, mentally, and emotionally all my life. I was the only one to hold a stable job and they expected me to pay for them while they sat around and did nothing. I was the one they came to when they were dumped by their lovers after they found out they were cheating on them. And when I told them I wanted no more part in their problems they berated me by telling me without them I would not even be here so “it was the least you can do to be grateful”.”

Abarxsis had seen his lover angry before but this was something else. This was not just simple disdain or annoyance; this was a deep rooted hatred that ran through the core of Kelly’s being.

“I left,” she continued, “because it was the only way I could be free from their toxicity and now, despite me telling you otherwise, you have brought that toxicity back to me.”

“But..” Abarxsis spoke unsurely, “they are still Kelly’s family.”

“You were my new family.” Kelly laughed without joy and fixed him with a cold stare. “They stopped being my family the day I left them.”

A hover car slowly pulled up and the door popped open for Kelly. She started to enter when the rest of the family came out and started calling out to her.  Abarxsis watched Kelly look back at him and see her expression now one of disappointment and sorrow, before she entered the hover car and closed the door behind her.

The hover car pulled away as the family came up and began calling out Kelly’s name while shouting recent needs for money or how disappointed they were that she hadn’t spoken to them in so long. Once the hover car was out of sight the family then turned on Abarxsis making the same demands. Abarxsis looked at them with confusion as this was not what a family should be. The love and support he had felt from his was nowhere within the eyes of Kelly’s former family.

Abarxsis came to understand why Kelly did what she did and realized that despite their constant need to pack bonding and need for family, the human concept of family was something not as simple to define.  

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #family drama

[brucewaynehater101]

I keep seeing you mention Bart as the "Scariest YJ member" and I would love your full analysis of why that is (aka I kind of want to explore writing evil/morally grey YJ but i'm not as familiar with canon stuff)

Thank you in advance and btw always love your stuff <33

I'll warn that I'm not as familiar with Bart's canon, but yes he does scare me. I'm struggling a bit to put it into words, but hopefully this is close.

The other YJ members are obviously powerful. Tim and Bart are the only ones to probably be underestimated by a new villain. Tim's completely human, and Bart keeps up a demeanor of being a bit of an air head.

However, Tim is extremely intelligent and willing to go to lengths that aren't considered morally okay. Every hero and villain knows that, though. He's Batman's protege. Everyone knows the Bats are a paranoid bunch, probably have contingency plans against you, can beat you in a fight, and that Tim is considered a genius. He's a threat, and if you underestimate him, he'll ensure you never do again.

Bart? He's insanely smart and has a photographic memory. He is an overall great guy, but he was raised in a virtual reality of the future. He had accelerated aging until his morphological age of 12, or the chronological age of two. He most likely doesn't have the same ties to social standards of acceptable behaviors and acceptable levels of violence. Before he was zapped into the past, he also was dealing with world ending perils. I'm not sure I'm explaining this right, but Bart is like a hidden danger. He's bubbly and kind personality wise, but he knows how to vibrate your skeleton out of your skin. He might be impulsive and he might talk a lot, but he can and will obliterate you.

He purposefully doesn't threaten people. Kon could stand there glaring to intimidate people. Cassie too. Tim would raise an eyebrow as he dares you to cross him. Bart? He doesn't really try to intimidate. He can, he could list the various ways he could utilize the speedforce to cause you excrutiating pain, but he doesn't. If he did intimidate someone in that way, he would immediately switch back to jabbering on about this or that with a happy demeanor. The others don't have as tight of a claim to a bubbly personality as Bart.

Bart is consistently overlooked and underestimated by the hero community and villains. His demeanor causes people to lower their guards and underestimate him (whether intentional or not). If Bart would go evil, I think he would act the exact same. He would babble on about positive and happy things as he kills people. He wouldn't be much different from how he currently is if he committed atrocities, and that's scary.

Hopefully, that kind of explains why he's so scary. He hides how insanely powerful he is (intentionally or not) and isn't taken as seriously. His team knows better, but everyone else? No.

#bart allen #dc comics #dc universe #young justice #young just us #tim drake #bart allen is scary #scary bart #bamf bart allen #thank you for the ask!!!!

[waksworldrebooted]

THE FULL MOTORCITY PITCH BIBLE GOT LEAKED

It’s been a while since I posted anything Motorcity related but here we are with this thing: the full unedited extended Pitch Bible from Chris P.

Special thanks to The Media Busters for finding this:

Motorcity: Series Bible (Revised 2/15/11)

Logline: In the future, charismatic tyrant, Abraham Kane, is taking over Detroit, transforming it block-by-block into his insidious city of tomorrow: KaneCo Deluxe. But one thing stands in his way: the Burners! Led by the charming and impulsive daredevil, Mike Chilton, this band of hot-rod wielding rebels fights to protect Motorcity - the last oasis of freedom - from the power-hungry Kane and his endless army of technological terrors. Motorcity is a high-octane animated action-comedy that celebrates freedom and independence with cool cars, great action, and dynamic heroes who stand up for what they believe in.

Motorcity: Live Fast. Live Free.

Remember the feeling you got when you first had the chance to drive? The power? The freedom? That’s what Motorcity is all about. It’s a high-octane animated thrill ride, pitting futuristic cars against terrifying robot technology, rival hot rod gangs and the nefarious power-hungry villains lurking in their own backyard!It’s the story of Mike Chilton, a teenage hero, and his struggle to prevent the evil Abraham Kane from achieving the complete and total domination of his hometown – Detroit. It’s a show for people who love to drive or can’t wait until they can.

The Situation

THE CONFLICT: Motorcity is the story of the BATTLE FOR DETROIT!

Detroit has been split into two separate sections of the same city: KaneCo Deluxe, a floating city of the future owned by evil industrialist, Kane, where freedom and cars are abolished, and Motorcity, a vibrant underground community built within the bones of old Detroit where people are free to live as they please. Kane desperately wants control of Detroit- wielding power over KaneCo Deluxe isn’t enough. He needs to wipe out the last patch of resistance and claim Motorcity as his own to complete his vision.

OUR HEROES: Mike Chilton and his band of rebels, The Burners.

THEIR MISSION: To protect Motorcity, the last oasis of freedom, from the evil reach of Abraham Kane, a power-hungry tyrant hell-bent on taking over all of Detroit so he can transform it into his insidious city of the future – KaneCo Deluxe.

Mike and The Burners are charming rebels that share a lot in common with the original “Champions of Justice”: Robin Hood and His Merry Men. To put it simply:

Mike = Robin Hood

The Burners = Merry Men

Our heroes hide out in Motorcity (Sherwood Forest), devising plans to take down Kane (Sheriff Of Nottingham) and bring freedom to the people of Motorcity (Nottingham).

Julie (a Burner with a secret: she’s Kane’s daughter) = Maid Marian (she straddles the worlds of Deluxe and Motorcity

The Feel and Tone

Action! Freedom! Speed! FUN!

When you strip it all down, Motorcity is about the joy of racing around in tricked-out cars, fighting robots, and racing your rivals. It’s FUN! Dang it! And we never want to lose sight of that.

Mike has the ability to look a life and death situation in the eye and find the fun in it. Every day is a high stakes battle, but Mike’s impulsive approach to any problem is what makes him unique. It’s not that he doesn’t take his fight with Kane seriously – It’s the heat-of-the-moment, seat-of-his-pants way he that makes him Mike!Get ready for an eight-cylinder action-comedy road trip through the fast lane of futuristic sci-fi...

The World

KaneCo Deluxe

Perfect, but boring. Kane’s futuristic metropolis is cold and uninviting. The gray and white shell envelops the “engine” of the old city underneath. It’s the veneer that hides the multiple cables, wires, pipes and guts encapsulated in Motorcity that power all of Detroit. Floating “living room” pods carry the Deluxe citizens from apartment husks to factory complexes to food distribution centers and back. The pods recharge as they dock. They only go where the computer sends them. There are no sidewalks. There is no freedom. No one decides where and when to go – they just do as they’re told.

The KaneCo Deluxe citizens all work for KaneCo - and if they question Kane’s methods, they don’t dare say anything about it for fear of their safety. As long as they do what the great leader, Abraham Kane, says, there won’t be any trouble. This includes participating in the war effort against Motorcity and the Burners – who, according to Kane, want nothing but to take away their safety and replace it with chaos and anarchy!

Motorcity

Underneath the sprawling megacity of Deluxe is a vibrant community of freedom-loving farmers, engineers, artists, mechanics and warriors. Although they live underground, these Motorcitizens are happy and free. This underground world is colorful and organic – a meld of nature and technology. A harmonious blend of old and new. Mike and the Burners use the immense power lines and data cables as roads to traverse the distances of Motorcity, as well as the remnants of the old highways and roads that haven’t been destroyed by Kane.The people of Motorcity are frequently under attack by KaneCo’s forces. Kane often sends his seek-and-destroy robots – he calls them his Safe-T-Bots – to eradicate enclaves of humanity nestled within the city’s inner workings. Some Motorcity citizens respond by building up highly defensible fortress dwellings to protect their beloved city. While some hide or stay mobile, there others who rise up and fight to protect what they’ve built for themselves down there. They don’t have to play by Kane’s rules and they want to keep it that way. Motorcity is a nurturing oasis for creativity, danger and fun.

Mike is the leader of the Burners – the primary force of resistance against Kane – but there are other gangs and groups in Motorcity. They are mostly unorganized and fight each other more often than they pose a threat against Kane. Mike and the Burners regularly go on scavenging expeditions to the oldest reaches under the city to find the parts needed to build and maintain their vehicles. They also raid Kane’s power plants and technical facilities buried under the city for advanced electronics and other futuristic tech. Kane’s biggest weakness is that his enemy lives in his own basement. They can attack his soft underbelly without warning.This is a constant source of frustration and anger for Kane!

The mechanics of KaneCo Deluxe and Motorcity:

KaneCo Deluxe is a giant supercity – about 175 miles across. Good thing the Burners’ cars can drive so fast! 500mph gets you around Motorcity quickly, especially with no rush hour...The pods up above travel just as fast - but no one ever gets within 10 miles of the city’s border. Since no one can control a pod, no citizen has ever even been close. And just in case someone tries, there’s a force field trapping everyone in. The view from the edge of town is completely obscured by a giant holo-projection of a depressed wasteland. This is what Kane has fooled the people into believing. There’s nothing worth it out there. Everything worth having is within the walls of KaneCo Deluxe. There’s a lot of danger out there and we need to protect our borders! All utility and power systems that run KaneCo Deluxe are buried in Motorcity. The Burners and other pockets of Motorcity dwellers draw what power they need from these massive generators. The immense tubes that provide energy, water, ventilation, communication and sewage are used by the Burners as a network of tunnels and highways to travel underground - as well as provide access to the maintenance hatches needed to sustain KaneCo Deluxe.The Burners have figured out ways to hack into these maintenance systems to not only get in and out of Motorcity, but to throw Kane off their scent as well. When Security Bots are on their tail, the paths of the massive tubes can be switched – just like the switches of old fashioned train tracks. The Burners know these tubes and tunnels better than anyone and Mike has learned to be unpredictable – to go left when it’s logical to go right. The best way to outwit a robot is to think like a human!

The Characters

Mike Chilton

(bravery, guts)

AFFILIATION: Burner

TITLE: Leader - he’s the man in charge of the Burners, and the man behind the entire resistance against Kane. He’s got a tough challenge ahead – both in fighting Kane, and managing the unique personalities of his team.

IS: a cool, quick-witted, funny, gutsy, impulsive 17-year-old who generally has things under control and doesn’t take much seriously (except for, of course, his mission to take down Kane). Mike never does things the easy way – he does them the fun way! That means leaping BEFORE looking, jumping into the water without testing the temperature.

Mike is naturally gifted. He doesn’t have to try to be exceptionally good, he just is. He is the guy who doesn’t care about winning the trophy, but he has a closet full of them. This effortless skill is what attracted Kane’s attention and what makes him such a tough opponent.

STRENGTH: His daredevil spirit – it usually gets him out of trouble.

WEAKNESS: His daredevil spirit – it usually gets him into trouble.

WANTS: speed and adventure. New experiences. And most of all... Freedom! For everyone! That means saving his people – the citizens of Motorcity. Mike wants to keep Motorcity out of Kane’s clutches so they don’t become drones to the Deluxian way of life and lose their precious freedom, or even worse, be destroyed if they refuse to submit. The Burners are the people’s only hope, and Mike isn’t going to rest until Motorcity is truly free.DOES NOT WANT: BOREDOM! Complacency! Mike likes to DO. Why waste time talking about it when he could be done before the others stop flapping their gums? IF HE WAS A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a machine gun

FAMILY: None known

RELATIONSHIPS:

MIKE AND KANE: Mike used to be a cadet in Kane’s Ultra-Elite Forces Training Academy - he believed in KaneCo Deluxe and felt it was his duty to protect the people. Mike was the top of his class, tackling every challenge or fight with reckless abandon – none of the other cadets had the courage, the guts or the skill to keep up with him. Kane saw something special in Mike and took him under his wing. He had BIG PLANS for our boy. But when Mike discovered what Kane was really up to (you know, EVIL), he knew he had to break rank and take a stand. Both Mike and Kane feel BETRAYED by one another, which makes their struggle for KaneCo Deluxe and Motorcity extremely personal.

MIKE AND CHUCK: They’re best buds. They’re opposites, but they need each other. They have each other’s back – no matter what...

MIKE AND JULIE: They’re very close, but not that close. There’s nothing romantic going on between them – at least not yet...Mike doesn’t show his vulnerable side too often, but when he does, it’s almost always with Julie. He confides in her. Fears, worries, hopes and dreams.

MIKE AND JACOB: Pupil and teacher to a degree. Jacob offers up sage advice, and Mike does his best to follow it.

MIKE AND THE BURNERS: They’re a makeshift family and oil is thicker than blood. Mike would do anything to protect his team and vice-versa.

RIDE: Mutt – a retrofitted 70’s Muscle-Car with four turbine tri-pulsor engines, a slew of energy weapons, a grip of gadgets and a 21st century chopper hidden between the exhaust pipes!

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Guts. Oh, and also a SKULL-HEADED DUAL-BLADED SPARK STAFF (think laser-sword meets flaming chainsaw!)

Chuck

(brains)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Tech Guru / Mike’s co-pilot

IS: Mike’s best friend and sidekick, as well as an automobile aficionado – he knows everything about every car ever made ever- schematics, engine specs, performance ratings, etc. However, he is also terrified of the “speed” and “danger” associated with them. (Come to think of it, we never see him driving...) He reluctantly rides shotgun with Mike on most missions, even though he’d much rather avoid conflict altogether.

STRENGTH: Thanks to his big ol’ brain, Chuck can always find an escape route or a solution to a technical problem in a pinch. He performs well under stress and terror, even though he hates it. Although he's usually terrified of the situation Mike has put him in, he is incredibly loyal and will never bail on him. Chuck is also constantly improving the Burners’ computer and security systems.

WEAKNESS: AAAAAAHH! Easily scared. Overly-cautious. Anal retentive. Always fiddling with the computer and security systems!WANTS: To survive driving around with Mike. To stay home and play “Laser Swords” on his computer. To win Claire’s heart. And secretly – to be more brave.

DOES NOT WANT: To man the gunner controls (but he will if he has to!). To “go in for a closer look.” To go skydiving.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a force field

SECRET: He doesn’t know how to drive! As much as Chuck loves cars, he’s just too scared to get behind the wheel. He’s able to keep the gang fooled by telling them he refuses to drive anything other than a Remote Control Car until he finishes building his dream car - the fastest, sleekest, most high-performance automotive machine the world has ever known. Of course, building the ultimate hot-rod will take years. And years. And years...

FAMILY: Chuck’s parents live in KaneCo Deluxe. They have no idea that Chuck is a Burner. They think he’s a Hover Repulsor Interface Technician at KaneCo.

RELATIONSHIPS:

CHUCK AND MIKE: They’re best buds. Chuck would do anything for him.

CHUCK AND DUTCH: Chuck engineers cars. Dutch builds cars and repairs them. Chuck is very precise and anal-ytical – a perfectionist. Dutch is not – he’s an artist and creates on the fly. When these guys have to collaborate, things get a little tense.

CHUCK AND CLAIRE: Chuck has a BIG crush on Claire. Claire thinks Chuck is G-ROSS.

CHUCK AND TEXAS: Oil and water. Legolas and Gimli. Nothing in common, except for their Burner patch and friendship with Mike – who often bridges the gap between them.

RIDE: “Umm... it’s in the shop.”

WEAPONS/SKILLS: Master Hacker. High-Tech Slingshot. Advanced trigonometry

Julie

(heart)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Intel-Gatherer / Gal on the Inside / Illusionist / Moral Conscience

IS: a bright, empathetic girl who sees good in even the worst people. She’s less quick to shoot than Mike, but when she does, she’s accurate and lethal. Julie is a master of stealth, infiltration, and espionage. She’s both feminine and tomboyish, has a smart, sarcastic sense of humor, and is quick on her feet – she has to be, because she leads a secret double life...

EARTH-SHATTERING SECRET: Julie is Kane’s daughter – and NONE of The Burners know. She tells them she is able to gather intel on Kane’s nefarious plots because she’s a “KaneCo Intern.” And, of course, Kane has no idea that Julie is hanging out with those ne’er-do-well Burners.

STRENGTHS: Chameleon-like ability to blend into any environment. She has the rare gift of being accepted into Deluxian society and the Burner World. She can access the highest levels of KaneCo headquarters without breaking a sweat. She also knows her way around a hologram projector – she uses her illusions and decoys to evade capture when she’s running with the Burners. Julie also possesses a great moral compass and lets the gang know when they’ve gone too far.

WEAKNESS: Her secret identity. Can’t let her father know she’s a Burner, and can’t let the Burners know she’s Kane’s daughter.

WANTS: Harmony. She also wants her father to realize that what he’s doing is wrong. She wants to maintain her relationship with her father AND her affiliation with the Burners – a delicate balancing act.

DOES NOT WANT: anyone to get hurt.

WORRIES THAT: the other Burners are having fun without her when she’s up in KaneCo Deluxe.

IF SHE WERE A WEAPON, SHE’D BE: a sniper rifle

FAMILY: Kane is her father. Her mother passed away when Julie was an infant.

RELATIONSHIPS:

JULIE AND KANE: Kane loves his precious, little girl and would do anything to keep her safe. He wants to protect her from everything – which is one of the main reasons he built KaneCo Deluxe in the first place.

Julie still believes there’s good in Kane and doesn’t want any serious harm to come to him. What he’s doing may be evil, but she still thinks he’ll come around in the end. But until that day, she has to do what she can to help the people.

JULIE AND CLAIRE: BFFs since kindergarten. These days Julie sometimes has trouble relating to Claire’s Deluxian lifestyle. But Julie uses her old friend as a sounding board for everything she can’t tell the Burners about.

RIDE: Nine Lives -A modified mid 21st century police cruiser. Her ride can produce decoy hologram-cars to throw pursuers off her trail, cloak to near invisibility, and deploy smoke screens, oils slicks and electromagnetic pulse mines. Also has a high precision Sniper Beam under the hood.

SKILLS AND WEAPONS: Espionage. Natural charm. Can manipulate Tooley with ease. Able to keep the Burners focused on the mission at hand. Extensive knowledge of flash grenades, smoke bombs, and other electro-explosives.

Texas

(Muscle)

AFFILIATION: Burner ROLE: Texas handles anything that involves exploding, crashing, or smashing things with his head.

IS: Slightly stupid. Somewhat lovable. And REALLY violent! Powder keg. Won't think twice about punching anything. Dedicated to the team and be the first to the battlefront when a fight breaks out. He is not a voice of dissent. He's gung-ho. He's a cheerleader. He's raring to go! Hell yeah!

SECRET: Really wants to be leader of the Burners. No… believes he WILL BE leader of the Burners!

STRENGTH: Strength

WEAKNESS: Brain. Ego. Self-confidence bordering on delusion. Likes to brag about qualities he does not possess but thinks he does. WANTS: To move fast and smash stuff. To be Mike. But unlike Mike, Texas wants to be recognized for his awesomeness.

DOEST NOT WANT: To wait. To solve problems by “talking it over.” And big words!

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: Trick question! Texas IS a weapon!

FAMILY: His parents live in Motorcity, where Texas was born and raised. His father plays the harp. His mother is a Professor of Women’s Literature.

RELATIONSHIPS:

MIKE AND TEXAS: Hero and understudy. Mike doesn’t know it, but Texas wants to be him.

TEXAS AND CHUCK: Oil and water. Muscle and smarts. Polar opposites.

TEXAS AND DUTCH: Fire and gasoline. Any dumb idea Texas has is always encouraged by Dutch.

RIDE: TEXAS - Not unlike George Forman, Texas has named his car after himself – because it is clearly the best name for anything awesome. Cobbled from the best late 20th century Italian sports cars, TEXAS is equipped with massive air-powered battering pistons, ram plates and hydro drills. Relies on physical weapons such as his roof-mounted grappling hook and the battering ram which is revealed by splitting open his front grille.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Laser nunchucks. Strong-ness. Massive neck!

Dutch

(creativity)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Guerilla artist and mechanic

IS: the Burner’s creative spark. Unable to take the oppression of KaneCo Deluxe, he ran away to Motorcity to make art in peace. Now he fights against Kane’s forces to keep from losing his newfound freedom. Dutch is wary of Deluxe – he’s glad to have escaped and hates going back, even to fight Kane. He’s mistrustful of others - until he gets to know you; then he has your back for life.

STRENGTH: Ingenuity. Ability to make something out of nothing. First-rate mechanic. Makes the Burners and their cars LOOK GOOD too.

WEAKNESS: Dutch tends to be an island. That’s how he got his name – because he goes it ALONE. But Dutch can’t resist getting caught up with the Burners. It’s too much fun and he gets to build all sorts of crazy stuff. Sometimes he cares a little too much about his art. Dutch doesn’t take criticism well, so do NOT criticize his work or tell him how to do his job. Just don’t. Trust me.

WANTS: To be free to create and express himself in peace

DOES NOT WANT: To hear what you think about his art.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: A spring-loaded bear trap

FAMILY: His parents live on surface but they don’t keep in contact. They totally buy into the KaneCo lifestyle and think their son is a criminal.

RELATIONSHIPS:

DUTCH AND CHUCK – Chuck works on the cars’ circuitry and computer parts. Dutch focuses on the physical workings. Chuck is an anal-retentive nerd who wants everything done a certain way. Dutch can’t stand those kind of restrictions. He’s going to do it his way or no way at all. This causes friction. A lot of it.

DUTCH AND TEXAS – Dutch is a bit of a prankster and is constantly egging Texas on to do really dumb things (like talk to hot girls, lick a battery, chew on tinfoil, or super-glue his hat to his head).

DUTCH AND JULIE – She’s cool, but he doesn’t understand why she can’t just give up her meaningless life in KaneCo Deluxe and live in Motorcity full-time like the rest of them. It gives him doubts as to her true intentions.

DUTCH AND CLAIRE – People like her are EXACTLY why he left that Deluxian wasteland in the first place. Yechhh!

RIDE: The Scorpion Sting - A mid 21st century hot rod that’s in a constant state of modification. He’s switching the color and welding new things onto it every episode. The speakers incorporated into the Scorpion’s body transform into his “SONIC SPITTER,” that can shatter armor plating with ear-splitting sound waves. Dutch’s car also carries

ROTH – a multi-functional robot who helps with the car mods and field repairs.

SKILLS AND WEAPONS: McGuyver-esque building talent. In charge of TRAPS. Wields a weaponized SOCKET WRENCH, which he has modified to serve as a mace.

The "Sonic Spitter's" description was not given unfortunately

Jacob

(wisdom)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Advisor, chef, and crazy old uncle type

IS: a hippie type in his mid-60’s and Kane’s former partner (a relationship that ended when Kane got all megalomaniacal and what-not). Jacob can’t quite keep up with all these young whippersnappers, so he’s taken on a more advisory role in the group: cooking them organic meals instead of the processed food bars they serve in Deluxe, counseling them on missions, and helping them out however he can. But don’t underestimate him just because he’s old and likes mung bean stew – he’s still got some driving left in him! And he’s chock full of scientific and technological knowledge, too, if you can sift through all of the organic food talk.

STRENGTHS: Cooking (according to him), experience, and knowledge of Kane. And a pretty dang good helicopter pilot and great when you need a tow.

WEAKNESS: Cooking (according to Burners). His back. The gout. Enlarged prostate. He’s not as young as he used to be…

WANTS: To see a truly free and safe Detroit, the way he and Kane envisioned it before Kane went off the deep end.

DOES NOT WANT: The music up too loud. New technology. To be forced to live in Kane’s idea of Detroit.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a musket

RELATIONSHIPS:

JACOB AND KANE – Jacob and Kane worked together in the past. In fact, they co-founded KaneCo, hoping to create a safer, more peaceful world. But they had a falling out about how to use the technology they created. Kane turned on Jacob, ultimately labeling him an enemy of the state. They’re like Obi-Wan and Darth Vader. Magneto and Dr. X. One stayed righteous as the other spiraled down a dark path.

JACOB AND MIKE – Yoda and Luke. The man who has seen it all, and the up-and-comer with tremendous potential and a lot to learn.

RIDE: The ’57 Sasquatch - A 20th century chop top, jacked up on monster truck tires with a modified tow truck bed for a rear end.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Garden hoe. Compost. Juicer. Wisdom. Organic mung beans.

Claire

AFFILIATION: Deluxian

SERIES ROLE: Represents the average Deluxian youth

IS: Julie’s “valley-girl” best friend and confidant. Claire serves as a sounding board for Julie to discuss the problems she can’t discuss with the Burners – primarily, her secret life as Kane’s daughter.

STRENGTH: The amount of KaneCoins in her bank account, shopping prowess and super-hotness.

WEAKNESS: She’s obnoxiously prissy, is grossed out by the Burners and is pretty useless unless you need someone to go to the mall with.

WANTS: To live her nice KaneCo Deluxe life surrounded by her KaneCo products without having to suffer the antics of those dirtbag Burners Julie insists on hanging out with!

DOES NOT WANT: To be stuck in Motorcity for any length of time. Especially with that creepy Chuck!

FAMILY: Daughter of prominent KaneCo executive.

RELATIONSHIPS:

CLAIRE AND JULIE – Best friends. Claire is the only person who knows Julie is leading a double life as Kane’s daughter and a Burner. Even though she doesn’t approved of these new friends Julie has and the cause they fight for, she goes along to support her friend- Julie usually has a pretty good sense of what is right. She may not like the Burners, but she’s a true and loyal friend to Julie, no matter what.

CLAIRE AND CHUCK – Chuck is into her…she does NOT feel the same.

CLAIRE AND THE BURNERS – She only hangs out down there because of Julie. They are gross and smelly and hate everything good, like KaneCo products! She doesn’t see what Julie sees in them…and she hopes it’s just a phase.

CLAIRE AND KANE – She’s a KaneCo fangirl and Kane loves her. She’s just the kind of friend and role model that his daughter needs. Claire only WISHES she could be Kane’s daughter. Julie is TOTALLY LUCKY!

RIDE: her bedroom - a standard KaneCo living pod.

SKILLS AND WEAPONS: KaneCo credit. Consuming. Good use of rouge.

Abraham Kane

AFFILIATION: KaneCo

ROLE: Founder and CEO of KaneCo. Homicidal tyrant.

IS: An evil industrialist and megalomaniacal madman hellbent on capturing all of Detroit. Which means getting rid of the entire Motorcity population living in the bowels of his precious Deluxe. Which means WIPING THEM ALL OUT. And to add insult to injury, he has fun being evil.

STRENGTHS: Charisma. Unlimited resources. Technological Terrors. Master propagandist. Complete lack of remorse.

WEAKNESSES: Puts all of his faith in his technology. Consumed with wiping out the Burners and everyone in Motorcity.

WANTS: To get rid of those filthy Burners. And control-control-control. Kane’s got big plans for KaneCo Deluxe, and they don’t involve anyone living underneath it and gumming up the works. He won’t rest until everything with a pulse is removed from Motorcity and it is his to further his vision of complete domination.

DOES NOT WANT: Anyone to have fun outside of the predetermined box. Anyone living beneath KaneCo Deluxe. Anyone joining the Burners. And most importantly – to let anyone else have control of anything.

IF HE WERE A HISTORICAL FIGURE, HE’D BE: Vlad the Impaler. With just a hint of Joseph Stalin.

FAMILY: Julie is his daughter. His wife died a long time ago.

RELATIONSHIPS:

KANE AND MIKE: Mortal enemies. Were once like father and son. Now each sees the other as a backstabbing traitor who broke his heart. He wants vengeance against Mike at all costs! No one betrays Abraham Kane!

KANE AND JULIE: Believe it or not, Kane does love his daughter. And at one point in time, she was the whole reason he started KaneCo Deluxe. But nowadays his reasons are much more nefarious, and Julie clings to the hope that she can restore her father’s humanity some day. Kane sees Julie as a child, a fragile egg that needs protecting. And protecting means an ivory tower and isolation, not a father’s love. Their relationship is cold. Kane doesn’t even bother to know Julie and the bright and caring young woman she’s become. He keeps her at arms length at all times.

KANE AND JACOB: Co-founders of KaneCo. Were once like brothers. Then Jacob began to see Kane as a despotic maniac with no moral compass, and Kane began to see Jacob as a naïve idealist who has no idea what it takes to run a corporation.

KANE AND TOOLEY: Tooley may be an imbecile, but he possesses one quality that is very important to Kane – loyalty.

RIDE: He would never get near a car, but sometimes grabs the controls of whatever technological death machine he pits against the Burners.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Safe-T-Bots and other Robots. Slaughter Pods. Doom Drones. Threats and intimidation. Eventually, the “Teenage Assassin.”

Tooley

AFFILIATION: KaneCo

ROLE: Lackey and mindless thug. Think Barney Fife, but bigger and dumber. Picture Gilligan if he could beat you up.

IS: a lovable goon and uber-KaneCo fanboy who has earned his spot at Kane’s side by being unwaveringly loyal. He has totally bought into the KaneCo way of life and he’ll do whatever Kane says without ever being a threat to Kane’s power…except for when he tries to impress his hero and his plans go horribly awry. Or when he’s watching cartoons on the job and the Burners sneak past him. Or when the Burners outwit him and lock him in a closet. Or when he tells Julie anything she wants to know and gives away Kane’s secret plans. You get the picture.

STRENGTH: Brute strength. Has seen every episode of the “Robot Walrus”.

WEAKNESS: He’s even dumber than Texas. Easily manipulated, especially by Julie. Usually watching “Robot Walrus” when he’s supposed to be working. WANTS: To please Kane and to make Julie his ladyfriend for life.

RELATIONSHIPS:

TOOLEY AND KANE – Tooley is Kane’s obedient lackey. Kane knows he’s dumb, but unlike Mike Chilton, he’s LOYAL. Tooley LOVES Kane and wants to be just like him, but unfortunately lacks any of Kane’s skills.

TOOLEY AND JULIE – Their names rhyme! That means they’re meant to be, right? That’s what Tooley thinks. If it were up to him, they’d have a beautiful KaneCo wedding and honeymoon right there in beautiful downtown KaneCo Deluxe and have lots of babies at the KaneCo Maternal and Neo-Natal Complex. Unfortunately for him, Julie’s not buying it.

TOOLEY AND THE BURNERS – Tooley is to the Burners what Sergeant Shultz was to Hogan’s Heroes. He’s incompetent and that’s what allows them to infiltrate KaneCo as often as they do.

TOOLEY AND “TEENAGE ASSASSIN” – Tooley can’t see why Kane needs this tool—he’s already got a TOOLEY! He resents the need for extra muscle…especially muscle with brain. Teenage Assassin can’t believe Kane keeps an imbecile like Tooley around. Needless to say, they don’t get along.

RIDE: a standard KaneCo security pod.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Fists. Futuristic police baton

Gabriel ("Teenage Assassin")

AFFILIATION: KaneCo ROLE: Kane’s new Number One IS: Terrifying.

STRENGTH: He’s like a cold, calculating version of Mike. All skill, no humor.

WEAKNESS: None known WANTS: To destroy Mike Chilton. To please Kane.

DOES NOT WANT: To Lose.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: one of those new state-of-the-art automatic rifles that can shoot around corners.

FAMILY: Unknown

RELATIONSHIPS: Unknown (but here’s a Top Secret tidbit: he used to know Mike)

RIDE: a modified, weaponized KaneCo security pod.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Force field gauntlets. Anything else that gets the job done.

Duke of Detroit

AFFILIATION: Himself

ROLE: Scoundrel. Rogue boss.

IS: a shadowy, charming, manipulative figure based in the Deep Reaches of Motorcity who has a hand in anything and everything he finds useful. Those that know of the Duke know he’s not a dude to be taken lightly – or dealt with at all! A deal with the Duke usually costs a lot more than you bargain for. There’s probably a great story behind his mouth full of metal teeth, but he’s not telling.

STRENGTH: finding weak spots. Manipulation. Coercion. Political genius. Making offers you can’t refuse. Street smarts, especially in the world of Motorcity.

WEAKNESS: Vain. Addicted to material wealth. Wouldn’t hesitate to stab his own mother in the back.

WANTS: Free reign over Motorcity. Constant entertainment, usually at the expense of others.

DOES NOT WANT: Conflict with Kane – that would endanger the good thing he’s got going!

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a tommy gun

FAMILY: Unknown

RELATIONSHIPS:

THE DUKE AND THE BURNERS: Mike and the gang know better than to trust the Duke, but sometimes they have no choice. The Duke has clout, whether you like it or not.

THE DUKE AND MOTORCITY: He’s friendly to civilians until it’s time to pay what you owe. Then the creepy metal smile disappears. The Duke keeps people in line by offering them sadistic pay-per-view style combat events, which he stages in his own Motorcity stadium.

THE DUKE AND KANE: Mutual understanding. They sometimes even work with each other when there’s something in it for both of them. A war between them would seriously threaten their respective empires.

RIDE: An early 20th century Bentley tricked out with gangster flare and armed to the gills.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Spiked baseball bats. And a mouth full of metal teeth.

Q&A

WHO/WHAT IS MIKE PROTECTING?

Mike and the Burners are all that stands between Kane and complete domination of Detroit. The Burners are defenders of Motorcity, and they’ll fight to the bitter end to keep Kane from getting his clutches on this last remaining bastion of freedom.

Ultimately, Mike is protecting people’s freedom. The freedom to live their lives the way they see fit.

WHY DOES KANE WANT DETROIT SO BAD?

Because it will give him POWER. Power to create his city. Not the city that the people want, but the city that they need.

Power to protect himself. To control. To crush those who would dare betray him.

Kane grew up in poverty in old Detroit. Surrounded by crime and decay. He never felt safe.

Working on the automobile assembly lines saved him from the streets. It gave him order and structure when everything else in his life was chaotic. Much like Henry Ford, the assembly-line mentality made a huge, and not altogether positive, impact on his thinking. He started seeing people as parts of a vast machine, not free-thinking souls. He determined excessive freedom and free choice was what was ruining Detroit. And he began to dream about what Detroit could be if he was in charge…

We like to think of Kane as sort of an anti-Bruce Wayne. Both were scarred at a young age by the ills of their cities. Both passionately dedicated their lives to making their cities a better place. And both went a little overboard: One going the hero route, dressing up as a Bat to clean up the streets. One opting for the dictator tract, ruthlessly acquiring power and subduing opposition to forge his “better world”.

IF KANE FAILS TO TAKE OVER DETROIT, WHAT DOES HE LOSE?

Obviously power. Deep down, Kane is afraid of being that powerless kid on the street. He NEVER wants to return to his old life.

Which is why Kane can’t allow the citizens to control their own lives. In his mind, freedom is just another word for everything to lose. Freedom leads to chaos, collapse, and ruin – just like in Old Detroit. He needs the power to control everything, make all the decisions, and ensure people dictate their lives by his singular vision.

And nothing poses a bigger threat to his power than the existence of Motorcity. If he fails to conquer that subterranean, freedom flaunting rat-hole, the roots of liberty could take hold and spread like noxious weeds through his precious Deluxe. Not to mention, those scumbag Burners will continue attacking Kane’s Deluxian tree at its roots, dismantling the future city’s underground power stations and infrastructure.

WHAT DO PEOPLE IN MOTORCITY FEEL ABOUT MIKE AND THE BURNERS?

Most citizens view Mike and The Burners as heroes. But there are some who see them as punk delinquents whose Kane-agitating antics bring unnecessary hardship on their neighborhoods.

Motorcity is also home to other Revolutionaries; rivals who believe the Burners are getting in the way of their plans. Or think Mike’s tactics are too soft – they are particularly disturbed by the fact that he considers the well–being of Deluxians when crafting plots to stop Kane.

WHAT DO DELUXIANS FEEL ABOUT MIKE AND THE BURNERS? WHAT DO THEY FEEL ABOUT KANE?

Though most of the people in KaneCo Deluxe are not truly happy with what Kane has provided, they don’t dare say so. Most of them fall in line and accept things the way they are. Anyone who sympathizes with the Burners does so privately, unless they have a death wish. And on the opposite side of the issue are a few who, like Claire, seem to have been duped by Kane’s promises and slick presentation.

WHAT DO PEOPLE IN MOTORCITY FEEL ABOUT KANE?

The consensus in Motorcity is that Abraham Kane is a real *%$#!

But as Motorcity isn’t exclusively populated by the morally upright, there are some who would be more than happy to sell-out to Kane for special privileges or payment.

HOW WILL WE SHOW THAT LIFE IS GOOD FOR DELUXIANS?

Citizens of KaneCo Deluxe receive three square meals a day, state of the art living quarters, and a steady job that’s guaranteed not to be outsourced. There’s no traffic. No crime. No poverty. What’s not to like?!

HOW WILL WE SHOW THAT LIFE IS BAD FOR DELUXIANS?

The three square meals are pre-selected by KaneCo, and usually consist of unappetizing fare like “throat cubes”. The living quarters are more like drab prison cells. And the jobs are, well… pretty much slavery. Workers are expected to report to work whenever the KANECO CHIME is heard. (Much like a prison siren or the school bell between periods.) Everything is scheduled. Everything is controlled. You don’t have a say.

WHAT OTHER “NON-TOOLEY” ALLIES DOES KANE HAVE ON HIS TEAM?

Kane is constantly surrounded by henchmen and hangers-on, some of whom have their own secret agendas in mind:

There’s a “Dutiful Sycophant” who laughs at his jokes and kisses his butt, but is secretly vying to take him down and seize control of Deluxe. A deadly, ubertalented “Teenage Assassin” who seems even more driven than Kane to wipe out Mike and The Burners. And we’ll introduce others as our season progresses…

ANY ONE ELSE INTERESTED IN “THE BATTLE FOR DETROIT”?

There are some unsavory characters lurking in the bowels of the city, but none more devilish than the DUKE OF DETROIT. A crime-boss of sorts, his only interest in the Battle For Detroit is figuring out how he can spin it to his advantage. The Duke has his sights set on extending his influence in Motorcity. And he sees Mike as a valuable tool – aligning himself with the rebel hero could score him big PR points with the people.

On the other hand, the cutthroat Duke is no dummy. He knows Mike’s moral code could really interfere with his plans. So from time to time, he’ll do what it takes to keep the kid in line – which sometimes means allying himself with Kane. After all, in the end, the Duke’s only real allegiance is to himself.

There are also other interested parties and forces at work outside of the domed Deluxe that we can weave in and out of the seasons as we progress. Rival CEOs, Criminals, and Shadow Organizations that attempt to lend support to Mike’s cause in hopes of accomplishing their own agendas.

HOW DOES KANE WAGE HIS WAR AGAINST MOTORCITY?

Primarily with brutal force, terrifying technology, and fear. He has an endless army of Robots at his disposal that he unleashes daily to bombard Motorcity. He has a seemingly infinite arsenal of wicked ways to stick it to the people. But his horrifying laboratory creations usually present the biggest challenge for our heroes and the poor citizens. Like the time he pumped an ever-expanding, flesheating Sulfuric-Acid Foam Gel into Motorcity, a concoction designed to rapidly dissolve all living, organic material. Yikes!

Sometimes Kane is so blinded by his thirst for power that he pursues incredibly risky plots that end up putting himself and all of Detroit in danger. Like when he forces his R&D lab into morally unconscionable territory in the hopes of creating the ultimate Attack-Bot, and ends up creating a hybrid bio-mechanical creature that promptly escapes and starts “cocooning” Motorcity and Deluxian citizens.

Kane often focuses his attention directly on our Burners, developing BurnerSeeking Death Drones, hiring bloodthirsty Bounty Hunters, or luring the rebels out of their underground lair by callously using citizens as bait.

Of course, The Burners aren’t just going to sit around waiting for Kane to unleash his latest plot. They’re always looking for ways to take the fight to his doorstep and destroy his plans before they get off the ground. Like when they attempt to infiltrate his top secret, insanely dangerous weapons factory with the help of Kane-Co Safe-T-Suits. Or when they smuggle out Kane’s top alternative-fuel physicist to avert nuclear-scale disaster.

#motorcity #waksworldart #waksworldrebooted #julie kane #mike chilton #chuck motorcity #texas motorcity #dutch gordy

[eshithepetty]

Ok. Watched dungeon meshi recently .... and why did noone tell me Falin is also autistic??

Like. Yes yes, all the mob vs laios autism polls are fun, but mob is so much more similar to Falin than Laios -  not just in how their autism manifests, or their personality, but like..... they're even both extremely powerful in their magical fields!! They both see and communicate with ghosts!!! They both ride the line between human and monstrous!!!! I love them so much...

But. If we're talking comparisons, between Mob and Laios...

I really think they're two sides of a coin. None is better than the other, they do vastly different things and are great in their own rights because of it.

Laios is an adult with autism who is surrounded by people who are annoyed by his presence or generally find him strange or offputting. He highlights the struggle of that, how hard it can be to find and keep true friends that actually care about you and aren't lying about just tolerating you when you're neurodivergent - and how even when you have great knowledge or skill in something, just as often it helps you, it will also make people look at you weird. He's loud. He's unapologetic. He's passionate!!! And the right people will come to appreciate that. But it doesn't erase the struggle that being so open often comes with.

Mob's narrative, on the other hand, is a coming of age story. It's about a traumatized autistic kid who isn't open, isn't loud, who makes an effort to not stand out - because he got burnt in the past, and he himself burnt others in the past, as a result of how his autism manifests. And it's about how he comes to realize that coming out of that shell is worth it. That there will be kind people waiting on the other side, that you're not doing anyone any good by ignoring your own wants and needs. That you have good to offer to the world!! That there's good people to meet !!! That you have more strength in yourself than you think !!!! And how even at your most destructive, all your flaws and true colors revealed, mask finally off .... your friends will still love you. Because you were always yourself. Even when you were hiding.

They do different things.

Dungeon meshi is a more realistic story - there's no otherwordly psychic powers amplifying the autistic symptoms present. It's just a weird, wonderful autistic man with his encyclopedia of knowledge and his small gaggle of friends. And the autism may not be absolutely central .. but it's there. Following the story every step of the way, influencing it that way or the other.

Mob Psycho 100 on the other hand is a lot more fantastical, and a lot more idealistic. There's no heavy worldbuilding to dive into, and the monsters and antagonists they face aren't the main course - instead, the main focus is on Mob, and his inner world, and gradually revealing more of it. In that way - while DM is an 'outside looking in' kinda story, mp100 is an 'inside looking out' one.

And I love both of them.

(Keep in mind I haven't read the dungeon meshi manga yet, just watched the anime ;^^ so I'm sorry that there's probably a lot more to add to the comparison on that front. Please don't spoil in the notes tho!!)

#this is just a rant that i had to get out lol #me upon watching any media ever: hmmm how can i connect this to mp100.... sorry lol #dungeon meshi #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #meta #autism #ramble #laios touden #kageyama shigeo #my own post

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 16 | Friends and Curiosities

Chapter Sixteen | Friends and Curiosities

Parker couldn’t believe it. Within such a short amount of time, he suddenly had a dozen followers and friends on his page.

Sure, he didn’t know them personally, but everyone was welcoming and polite – two things he was eager to report to his mom when she expressed concern. The miniscule boy also made sure his mom knew he was being safe, not giving out too much personal information, and that the topic of his condition hadn’t even been brought up.

One person commented on his profile picture being interesting, which was a picture of Parker standing in front of his computer screen, but he just explained it was a background and that he wanted to showcase the platform he was publishing on. Karl was the kid’s name, and evidently he and Parker were the same age.

All in all, Parker was pleased with his interactions and the people he was meeting. Lots of them had advice and things for him to check out, and he liked all of the things he was seeing.

There were sketches of space and vast mountains as well as the everyday interactions. There were hundreds of stories from writers just like him.

It felt nice. It felt like some kind of community with people supporting and helping one another. A sense of satisfaction filled the young teen every time he checked his notifications and saw he was getting the chance to meet someone new.

“Just look here, mom,” said Parker eagerly as he showed his mom the latest post he made. “It has almost fifteen likes!” He looked up into his mom’s features and saw her beaming with pride.

“That’s so great, Parker,” she complemented. “Are you going to post your latest story from Mr. Tamplin’s class?”

“I… think so. I don’t know yet though. It doesn’t feel done,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting warm. The latest story he came up with for Mr. Tamplin’s class was a fiction fantasy story about a sprite named Tal’el. It essentially was his backstory for the Dungeons and Dragons campaign he and his friends started.

Basically, he was a small fairy-like person who was a poison master for his people until he decided he wanted to go out adventuring and exploring. The Dungeon Game Master said it was fine if he played a smaller character, thankfully not questioning why he would want to do such a thing and found a special class for him to play as.

The story actually won a young adult author award for his class and Parker had Mr. Tamplin to thank since it was he who tutored him through his writing slumps. He was now refining it for his literature class.

“Well, don’t be scared to post it sweetie. You’re such a great writer and can do whatever you set your mind to,” encouraged his mom. “Now before you get sucked into checking your notifications, finish your homework and get ready for bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, momma,” Parker replied, rolling his screen back into place in the main area. The structure walls rumbled as his mom closed the outside walls to his home. It was hard to believe it had been a whole month since he “moved in” to this new space.

Parker loved it, in a weird way.

Not to sound ungrateful, but having his own space to roam around, especially in a space that felt suited to him, made him feel just a little bit normal. He liked that he was usually at eye-level with his mom instead of having her loom over him. Just the thought made him shudder involuntarily, and he wasn’t sure why.

It made him feel guilty every time the sensation seized him.

But, now was not the time to dwell on that. It was time for bed.

Parker walked into his room and rummaged through his dresser to find his oversized space t-shirt and elastic band sleep shorts. Then, he went back to the computer and finished submitting his assignments. The words filled the page and Parker hoped that his paper on the evolution of technology was going to be good enough to get him the grade he needed.

Parker’s other assignments were a breeze. Math was simple enough and the biology project about documenting the growth of plants was going smoothly. It was his other project, his story for his literature course, that he was worried about. It was his same story that he was using for his channel, but it was more a mild fear of rejection and lack of perfection.

His online friends liked it, but would his teacher? His followers?

Parker sighed and leaned against the wall before slinking down further into the chair. His eyes focused on the blinking line in front of him as he stared at the end of the fifth chapter he had been editing. Something about this story felt particularly personal, but Parker remembered hearing once about how writers put more of themselves than they’re aware of when they’re making characters and stories.

Perhaps this was just part of that feeling?

The teen sighed and stretched when, suddenly, his lights flickered up above him.

Confusion injected itself into his mind as he stared at the wired lights on the ceiling. His eyes flicked over to the wall switch.

Perhaps just a fluke?

The notion was dismissed when the lights flickered two more times, all of his lights dimming and glowing systematically.

Something raised the hair on the back of Parker’s neck. He felt like he was on pins and needles, the anticipation of a drop while suspended in mid-air. Cautiously, the curious teen stood up and walked over to the switch, examining it closely.

It was still up and wasn’t jiggling or loose.

The lights flickered again.

It felt like he was in a spooky movie, of which Parker had only ever seen one in his life along with a couple of older “thrillers” like Alien and Jaws. Even those movies were censored because his mom didn’t want him to get too spooked.

Was there something wrong with the plug?

Parker glanced at the window at the back by the stairs and, just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something.

It looked like the quick flick of a shadow.

It was quick and Parker wasn’t even sure if he knew what he saw. He did just step out of his room after all, and he had been staring at his computer screen, which he knew sometimes made shadows appear when there weren’t any.

He held deathly still, his entire body locking up like a perfect figurine. His body fell naturally into the position as he slowly crouched and laid his hand against the floor, as if he could detect any trembling or motion.

He didn’t get a chance to investigate for long though. Before he could make his way to the stairs in his crouched position, there was a knock on the table that made Parker nearly jump out of his skin.

“Parker? Are you going to bed soon?” Parker’s entire body shivered as he pushed himself upright and heaved in a few deep breaths. Every nerve in his body felt electrified. While his heart continued to thrum rapidly, he cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to his mom as the sides of the walls began to open.

“Y-y-yeah, mom. I’m ready for bed,” said Parker. He glanced up at the lights stayed on without the slightest hint of a flicker. The walls opened fully and, instantly, Parker saw his mom’s brow furrow quizzically.

“Everything okay? You look a bit pale,” she said. The maternal instinct in Amanda kicked in and she reached forward and pressed the tip of her finger against Parker’s forehead. He shied away from it, which was typical teenage behavior, but something else felt off about Parker that Amanda couldn’t quite place.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…” Parker stopped short. It felt like something physically squirmed in his mind, preventing him from saying something about the shadow and the lights. He shook the notion loose, confused as to why this instinct flared up in him, and proceeded with his thought. “I just saw the lights flicker and got spooked.”

“Oh?” Amanda replied as she glanced over and looked down at the power strip that fed electricity into Parker’s Place. Nothing looked off about it to her, but she still knelt and glanced around the ground.

Still nothing.

“Well,” she sighed as she stood and walked back over to the front of Parker’s tiny home. “I don’t see anything. It looks like it’s all plugged in, but we’ll check on it tomorrow. Okay? For now, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes, momma,” replied Parker as he walked up to the edge and accepted the kiss on his torso that his mom gave him. With that, Amanda smiled and watched as Parker curled under the blankets, forming an almost imperceptible lump in the bed. “Goodnight momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, Parker. Sweet dreams my love.” Amanda closed the walls and secured them tightly before tiptoeing out of the room and to her own room to turn in for the night.

Just in the other room, Parker laid there with his heart still fluttering nervously. Everything in him was still on edge, and the curiosity of what was going on with his lights was really bothering him. Parker enjoyed a good mystery or puzzle, but he generally liked ones he could solve.

This one wasn’t solved yet.

For what felt like a couple of hours, Parker tossed and turned in his bed as a mixture of homework assignments and curiosities about the power outlet swirled like a mist in his mind. The more the young teen thought, the more it annoyed him that he didn’t have the answers.

He had had enough.

Parker pushed himself up and decided to go and check out the source of the flickering lights. If it was a cable going bad or possibly the breaker being loose, he needed to get a new one as soon as possible. It would be terrible if he was in class and his power went out. His mom said they would do it in the morning, but Parker knew himself; and he knew he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t at least go and see it for himself.

He couldn’t afford to not check it out with his presentation tomorrow.

The teen stepped noiselessly through his house and exited the front door. As he walked around, he noticed a few things that just seemed, in a word, natural.

Sound was amplified. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed brighter. He could feel every tremble in the desk from his footsteps.

As he made it outside, a choice presented itself to him. For a moment, he considered going down the climbing line he installed himself on the backside of the desk.

But he knew if he slipped on the rope and got hurt, which he never did, his mom would make him take down the line.

He decided to risk it.

It was late. She was asleep. Parker was as sure footed as a goat and knew he would be fine all the way down. The temptation was also too great for the teen to resist. Plus, it would be a lot faster.

There was something about the experience that was, in a word, liberating. The free fall. The catch. The feel of the rope in between his fingers.

It felt natural.

The urge to climb and fall and hide never failed to fascinate parker. Whether it was something his condition genetically programmed him to do so or if it was some personality trait he possessed, he didn’t know.

What he did know was the sensation was addictive and he was itching for a good climb.

Parker snagged the line in between his fingers and leaned over the edge of the desk. There was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled inside him, but he loved it. The weightlessness seized him as he let himself slip over the edge, hands and feet firmly in place and secured on the line.

The line burned against the teen’s palms and against his legs as he quickly descended. It felt like something a secret agent would do, and it felt epic.

The moment Parker’s feet hit the ground, he felt himself instinctually look around and crouch low. Silently, he stepped across the planks of wood that constructed the floor and walked toward the power strip that was only a few feet away. The whole thing was four times Parker’s size, but he navigated through the wires with ease.

His hands worked quickly to check the buttons and reset panels, and the teen could find nothing wrong with any of it.

Perhaps something is up with the electrical cover in the wall? Parker wondered silently. He jumped over the stiff cord that led to the wall and approached the trim on the wall which had small notches in it, so he didn’t need to snag a ladder.

As he approached, Parker noticed something by the very base of the electrical cover that made his hair stand on end.

It was a drill bit.

Flat head.

It was a tad bit rusty, and Parker didn’t recognize it from his mom’s kit that she used to help construct his space. He approached and picked it up, realizing it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. In his hands, it was about twice the size of the drill that his mom used, and he realized he could probably carry it around easy enough; but where did it come from?

I don’t think this is mom’s drill bit. How’d it get here?

Parker glanced up at the electrical cover and felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the screw for the wall socket was protruding from the wall ever so slightly.

His entire body was shaking now, but he wasn’t sure why.

Had his mom messed with the electrical cover with some old tools that she forgot about?

It didn’t seem like her.

Parker stepped up on the trim, balancing precariously and using the cord to stabilize himself, as he pushed on the very bottom of the electrical cover.

With almost no effort, the piece wiggled free and the screw clattered to the ground. The end looked a lot shorter than the others. He knew because he helped his mom replace the covers a few weeks ago.

The young teen took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he dared to peek inside. Engulfing darkness belonging to the wall consumed his vision. There was something exciting and enticing about the darkness in front of him.

It felt, in a word, familiar.

But why?

Parker felt his head beginning to throb as his mind stirred some fragmented memory, but it was hazy and distant.

What really set the teen on edge, however, was when he dared to push himself up onto the ledge to peer better into the wall and noticed something else that made his insides fill with nervous energy.

There was something that looked like a pencil mark. Two lines with a triangle on top followed by a little check mark on the inside. To Parker, it looked like a kid’s drawing of a house with a check mark inside of it.

Was this something his mom did?

Or was this some kind of construction mark?

What was this?

What did it mean?

The teen stared at the marks and then back to the darkness of the wall. Just like the shadows of the room when he stepped out of his house, the looming abyss of those narrow spaces between the walls didn’t seem very dark. It almost seemed inviting.

There was something about that confined space between the drywall and the studs and exterior boards that made Parker feel like he was back in his space. It was familiar.

But why?

Parker hadn’t realized that he had been learning forward to the point where he was barely hanging onto the edge of the electrical cover and leaning into the walls. It took the sound of his foot skidding against the wood and nearly tumbling headfirst into the space in front of him.

Startled and shaken, Parker pulled himself back out of the entryway into the walls, forced the electrical cover back onto its perch, and hurried back to his room. He was in such a tizzy, the young teen didn’t even realize he had gone straight to the secured line he left and climbed up it in record time, ignoring the staircase mere feet away.

His little feet barely made noise as he scurried back to his room, securing the door and slipping under his covers without so much as a squeak.

Parker’s mind was racing. What was that he just saw? And what was that weird draw he had toward the walls?

Hopefully, his mom would have the answers.

First thing in the morning, he would ask her. She would make everything better, right?

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

#borrower #g/t #g/t community #borrowers #giant/tiny #handheld #giant tiny #tiny #giant #gianttiny #the borrowers #gt community #gentle giant #My Borrowed son #gt fluff #sfw gt #sfw #sfw g/t #sfw giant/tiny #Parker #g/t concept #g/t comfort #g/t characters #g/t writing #g/t fluff #size difference #g/t idea #g/t interaction #g/t author #g/t angst

[ghouljams]

scrolling through tumblr instead of doing my college paperwork (why do they need my immunization records? weirdos. thanks for accepting my application in like three days though) and sinking my teeth into fallout ghost bro (also you wouldn’t happen to have dorm advice would you im desperate)

i love seeing writers i follow taking these boys and pushing them that nice apocalyptic dark.. there’s something that itches my brain about fallout in particular and it’s feeding the worms bc truly anything can go with narrative depending on where you stick em. all that to say loooooooooove ur fallout stuff it’s living in my head forever now and you can’t get rid of me <3333 :3c

Fallout is such a great mix of post-apocalyptic but also there is a society to play with. It's fun writing darker fic with the boys, I like when they're a little fucked up. There are different morals out in the wasteland, you gotta draw your own lines in the sand, decide where you stand and where you aren't going. Ghost's prerogative is survival and revenge, we're just unlucky enough to owe him a debt and get carted along for the ride.

As for Dorm advice... Get flipflops for the showers if you have communal bathrooms. Leave your door open when you can the first week or so, that way people can say hi and you'll know when people are going for food; it's way easier to make friends over lunch/dinner. Don't worry if your roommate isn't your best friend, just try to be cordial with them. My freshman roommate fucking hated me, I ended up spending most of my time in my friend's room since they lived down the hall and my room was just where I slept and studied, it was fine.

Having a roommate agreement sounds silly but is really helpful if you're having any sort of dispute, you can point to the paper you both agreed on and say "look you said you wouldn't bring people back here without giving me a heads up" or whatever. On the other end of that, if your agreement says you'll alternate taking out the trash and your roommate hasn't taken it out, just take it out. It's easier to just do things yourself most of the time. Maybe it's because I'm an oldest child but I tend to just fix things myself when they bother me, trying to get other people to do shit is pointless 75% of the time.

Honestly most people treat the dorms as just a place to sleep and study. It's your home, but it's also not. Which always feels weird to say but you'll get used to it fast. Don't sweat too much about it.

#ghoul speaks

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze?

Ok so I wanted to start posting my Soulmates AU for Raindrop month, but writing for my Medieval one is going waay better than planned and it's confusing me to have 2 separate backstories in my head at once, so while I still have *checks calendar* 5 DAYS, here's a little stand-alone ficlet!

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze? A Midwest Emo Ghouls AU ficlet

Rating: T Content: fluff, literally that's it just fluff Words: 615

Lots of love to @alwaysjustmina for organizing this month again this year, I love any excuse to write about our soggy boys!! 🌦️🖤

hello @revengeghoulette, here is your summons as promised!! 🫡

Read below, or on AO3!

Haymaking season was coming to an end, and Swiss, Mountain and all the ghouls who pitched in to help were looking forward to a well-deserved break. To celebrate the end of the season, Swiss had built a maze out of hay bales for the children and kits of the town, as well as some of the more enthusiastic adults.

The whole community had come together to put on a party at the ghouls' farm. Mountain and his colleagues from the hardware store had built fairground games, Dew had dragged the church's speakers down on a trailer and was playing records Mist had brought from her shop. Aurora's cafe had a small pop-up, and Cirrus had brought a vat of apple cider, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, for the younger guests. Cumulus was in her element, her little face-painting stall attracting such a sizeable queue that Sunshine had jumped in to help out. Phantom was taking his new role as Youth Pastor – and more recently Sunday School teacher – very seriously, replacing her in supervising a very intense game of tag. While Mountain minded the hay maze, Swiss was giving rides on the haycart he had hitched to the back of his tractor, driving the children and kits up and down the field in the warm afternoon sunshine.

After closing time, once the families had gone home, the ghouls had the place to themselves without getting in the way of the fun of the younger members of the community. Rain and Dew were the last ones left inside the maze. Aurora and Mist had quickly disappeared somewhere together, Sunny, Cirrus and Cumulus were deep into their mission of finishing off the cider now that their responsibilities were over, the three of them covered in rainbow paint and body glitter.

Dewdrop and Rain walked hand in hand through the maze, quietly drinking in each other’s company in the balmy evening air. Making it to the centre of the maze they sat down on a bale, surrounded by golden walls on all sides as the amber glow of sunset spread across the sky. Dew leaned his head on Rain’s shoulder, utterly content in the moment.

“It’s beautiful.” Rain commented, as they watched the play of colours around them. “Just like you.”

Dew turned his face to bury it in Rain’s neck, bashful.

“You are, and I’m so proud of you, taking over from Aeth like you did. You’re doing such a great job, love! Look at how the town and harvest are flourishing. I’m honoured to call you my husband.”

Never one to take compliments well, Dew redirected Rain’s affections by capturing his lips in a searing kiss. The pair lost themselves in each other, the cooling temperatures went unnoticed past the warmth of their bodies, the slight prickliness of the hay nothing compared to the soft slide of their lips.

By the time they came up for air, Dew having squirmed his way into Rain’s lap, the sky was glowing a deep russet colour. From outside the maze, they could hear the sounds of the others packing up to leave.

“Alright lovebirds, time to come out or I’ll send the dogs in!” they heard Swiss call. The pair only giggled, Rain placing feather-light kisses across Dew’s cheekbones while he blushed the colour of the sky.

“You don’t have a dog!” Dew hollered back as he struggled to hold in his giggles.

“Hi Dewy.” deadpanned Mountain.

Eventually, Dew and Rain managed to find their way out of the maze, neither wanting to be found and carried out by the giant earth ghoul.

“Nice straw hat, Rain.” smirked Swiss, “although normally you weave it into itself, not directly into your hair!”

#I’m tweaking the timeline slightly to have Phantom in town closer to Dew’s element transition shhh! #raindrop month #raindrop april #raindrop #midwest emo ghouls au #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #em writes

[johannestevans]

Prompt: a thief makes the mistake of trying to steal from a community of orcs/minotaur/other big monster people of your choice and is put in a pillory for public use

Doing short requests (<1000w)!

Feel free to drop requests in the replies or into my askbox. If you’d like a leave a tip for your own request or someone else’s, my tip jar is here.

“I didn’t even manage to get away,” Vi hisses, trying to pull her wrists free from the pillory they’re locked inside, trying to wriggle her way out of the bondage, but it’s not working. She can’t get the leverage she can when she’s in handcuffs, can’t cut through it like she can rope, can’t do a thing but be here, bent over with her feet flat on the ground behind her. “What are you actually punishing me for?”

“Trying,” rumbles the minotaur who’d pulled her back through the window by her ankle and snatched the bag of pilfered jewellery out of her hands, and rips apart her trousers in one motion of his palms, and then suddenly his cock is sliding into her arse, and she howls at the thrust of it inside her, the slight burn as she’s spread wide and filled, the minotaur’s cock shoving so deep that she feels her belly bulge even before she looks down and cranes her neck to see the lump of the minotaur’s cock inside her.

“Why steal, girl?” the minotaur asks behind her, gripping tightly at her hips with his big, impossibly strong hands and fucking her mercilessly, and suddenly her cock is hard and bouncing underneath her with the force of the bull-man’s thrusts, with the rub of his surprisingly soft fur against her arse and the back of her thighs. “Why not take what will be freely given to you?”

Vi wails and tries to catch her breath as she feels the minotaur plough hard and rough into her guts, and Gods, it feels good, feels so good she can’t conceive of it, knows the minotaur’s cum is rippling through her with that addictive magic that comes with it, setting her skin on fire, making her arse throb, her cock, her tits, all of her.

“How long you gonna be?” asks a voice to the left, and she suddenly thinks about where she is, the pillory set up in the middle of the town square – it’s late at night and the taverns are just beginning to close, and suddenly there are so many great, hulking men coming out into the streets, minotaurs, orcs, trolls, huge dragon men with twin bulges in their leggings, and so fucking many of them are walking her way.

Her cock sputters as she comes hard, her balls drawing up and her cum spattering on the ground beneath her, and the minotaur behind her grunts – she feels the pulse and jerk of his cock inside her, feels his cock thicken and twitch, and then suddenly his cum is pumping into her as she squirms and stands up on her tiptoes and press back into his cock for more.

She’d known—

This town is infamous for things like this, the monstrously big men that live here, each of them with monstrously big cocks, and the pillories lined up in the square for every would-be thief and ne’er-do-well to enjoy the consequences of letting herself be caught.

Much like she had.

Her guts are flooded with it, her belly bulging out beneath her, and she hears the man behind her say, “Finishing up now, she’s all yours.”

“I’ll take the other end,” says the orc. “Keep her from spitting out the gift you’re giving her.”

Her belly feels so heavy and she can feels the splash and rush of all the minotaur’s thick, hot cum within her, feel it slosh inside her guts, feel her belly swing and her cock swing up against it, and before she can say anything her jaw is being opened, and a huge cock is sliding over her tongue and sinking right down her throat and fuck, but it tastes good, it’s good—

The minotaur is out of her arse for barely a second before one of those draconic monsters is shoving her twin cocks into Vi’s arse and forcing her arse even wider, and she’s spitroasted between the two of them, and fuck, fuck—

“Good girl,” rumbles the dragon behind her, gripping her waist to shove Vi down onto her two pricks, and Vi’s scream of pleasure is muffled by the orc cock filling up her throat.

#musings #original fiction #minotaurs #writing requests

[thissortofsorcery]

Billy wakes up all at once. His first instinct is to control his breathing, pretend he’s still asleep. He’s pretty sure he just heard the door to his room open, and there it is, the sound of it creaking closed again. Something about it is off, but he can’t place it.

There’s someone in his room. He can hear the footsteps nearing the bed, soft, and Billy’s just waiting for it- Any minute now his dad is gonna yank him up by his hair-

“Billy? Did I wake you up?” It’s Steve. It’s Steve’s soft, worried voice beside the bed, because he’s in the bedroom he shares with Steve, in the apartment he shares with Steve, all the way in Santa Monica, and he’s twenty years old, not seventeen anymore.

Billy’s whole body relaxes, sagging on the bed, and he rubs a shaking hand on his face.

“It’s okay,” Billy says.

Steve swears under his breath and climbs on the bed, wrapping both his arms around Billy and burying his nose in Billy’s hair.

“Sorry, baby,” Steve says, and kisses his forehead. “I just went to the bathroom.”

“It’s okay,” Billy says again.

It’s so easy to melt into Steve, to rub his face into Steve’s collarbone and smell his skin, to let the feeling of him wash away every bad feeling, every bad thought in his head. In this bed, in this room, there’s only ever been Billy and Steve, and how much they love each other. How safe Steve makes Billy feel.

Steve runs his fingers up and down Billy’s spine, making his skin tingle. Billy lets out a long groan.

“Think you can go back to sleep?” Steve asks in his ear, pressing impossibly closer. It already feels like they’re fusing together.

“Think so,” Billy mumbles. To be honest, his eyes are already halfway closed, and he’s listening to Steve’s steady heartbeat, and the rhythmic feeling of Steve’s nails on his back is incredibly soothing. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Steve whispers back. “I’ll be here.”

Billy means to say something back, but whatever it is is lost to sleep. He dreams of Steve.

#heard there was some shit in the Billy fandom yesterday so I decided to write him getting some love and support! #Billy is loved #this is a great community and I stand by it #this is for you #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Harringrove #harringrove fic #billy x steve #mine #sorcery writes #cw child abuse #cw: child abuse

[sysig]

Some Betty highlights from her way-too-long comic roughs (Patreon)

#Doodles #Adventure Time #Betty Grof #Simon Petrikov #Can you tell I like her intense expressions #Betty's so cool I really like her character #I like how she's set up in AT and how she's further explored in Fionna and Cake :) #Right from the get-go she's just so ready to take everything in stride and I like her! She's cute and charming and funny and interesting #She's just a really well-rounded character for how little screentime she gets :D #And she's quite fun to draw so that's just a bonus haha #Obviously a mix between Adventure Time and my own style - sharp hair swoops aren't really on-model but I just like them lol #But I really like AT's eyes - they're so simple but they can be so communicative! #And Betty gets two eye styles which is Very cool >:3c #It really makes her stand out :D #I dunno if you can in her blank/wide-eyed style but she's meant to be wearing her Magic Woman getup I just forgot her hair kerchief #She's not As fun to draw with it on but I want her to be accurate as well! #It was fun to draw her interacting with Simon as well <3 Them flirting just makes me so 💕💖❤️💞💝 #I'm /still/ not over his little lovehearts from Broke His Crown like fjdslafdshfdf it's so cute #Them being silly and gentle with each other gets me so bad ♥ #I imagine just from these even removed from context you can tell this doesn't go particularly great for them tho haha #Also lol @ myself - I wrote this caption before finishing Part 3 which uhhhh #Part 3 ended up being well over 150% as long as this so- #They're just too fun and interesting!

[starflungwaddledee]

which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus

#sorry it's the colour scheme and the glitter and the fluff. i'm unfortunately so so weak to all these things 😭 #even a little bit of pastel rainbow star theming specifically... comet really has everything i'm sorry to say #i think starstruck would faint immediately if she saw him. could they be friends?? i'm not sure i think she'd just be like this: 👁️👁️ #he is also one of (if not the very) first designs i saw when i started picking around the kirby community #so i'll always have a soft spot for him no matter who else i discover. #there are also a dozen other OCs that i love and adore but the more that i list the more folks will feel that i didn't list *them* #and i really really don't want to do that! my mutuals have some absolutely banging designs as do some folks who i don't follow! #there are also a lot of REALLY cool designs that are 'semi' oc but are more like redesigns? from folks AUs or comics or so on #many great morpho-esque redesigns out there too i'm always a fan of those!!! #please understand i'm listing only ONE design that hits all these prompts (bc i also don't know the creator well hence 'only heard of') #and one that always stands out to me personally because of the sentimentality i mentioned above #but i love MANY many many. if i started listing them i would never stop!! if you have an oc or a design i probably love them!! #i realise that is a bit of a dodge of the breadth of this question but i just... yknow? haha #i'd be happy to learn more about any ocs really!! i would actually love for starstruck to start having some relationships with others too? #if folks are interested in that!! she has relationships with the dream land four but not so much with ocs; and that might be fun too!! #others ocs #asks

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m not going to request anything this time, I just want to know your honest opinion about “LawLight”. 

I have never seen as much yaoi content in an anime as in Death Note in my 30 years… I’m sooo old, and maybe that’s why I’m so sick of Tumblr suggesting me these kinds of posts and it has revived my hatred for this “ship”.

I mean, I’m not even sure if those people have watched the same anime as me…

Cartoons are fictional to start with, so buying into this is like double-dipping in make-believe, I don’t know if I’m making myself clear, lol.  I know some people might say… We read ‘x reader’ stories, okay, but we reaaaally know that this is not real, instead of affirming something that doesn’t exist…?

Anyway, I just wanted to vent, hope I didn’t bother you, and that you understood my limited English. 

Greetings from China!

I love Lawlight because I hate Light Yagami and I think he would hate Lawlight irl and any enemy of my enemy is a friend. That said I personally do not know how feasible it is as a ship. Im not anti Lawlight or anything— the fan content for this ship is great— but I do not know that the characters are all that compatible. I would normally leave it at that, but this is a prime opportunity to shit talk Light so I’m taking it. Here are my top ten implied realities of Lawlight which sink the ship in my opinion.

1. It implies that L would date a man he doesn’t even trust enough to believe isn’t a serial killer, which is ridiculous.

2. It implies that Light as Kira would not be so stubborn as to just refuse to be vulnerable with L out of spite.

3. It implies Light Yagami is capable of love.

4. It implies that neither of them wouldn’t view physical intimacy solely as an in to gain information from the other person.

5. It implies that either party would be content with just leaving well enough alone and not trying to destroy each other.

6. It implies that Light would deny his repressed (if you want to be nice) homophobia (which I cannot prove he has but believe he does with my whole entire heart) long enough to allow himself to get with L.

7. It implies that Light (and possibly L) would be cool with Ryuk watching them do couple things, sexual or otherwise.

8. It implies that Misa Amane would not beat the shit out of L for encroaching on her man.

9. It implies that Light would either top or not view bottoming as losing.

10. It implies that Light has the ability satisfy a partner in any way.

That said, their messy hypothetical relationship is undeniably fun to speculate about. Loads of fun fan works have come from the ship, and Light would despise the ship in real life, so who am I to knock it?

#death note #l lawliet #death note lawliet #dn lawliet #light yagameme #light dn #light death note #light yagami #light slander #hate that guy #but seriously none of this matters even a little #there’s backing because light is Like That #it’s just that Light is incapable of serious emotional connection #or open communication #he got real lucky is all #he is otherwise useless #I do not believe in Lawlight because Light is a goober is what I’m getting at if that wasn’t clear #and I stand by that shit #but the fandom work is great so y’all rock on

[cosmik-homo]

I simply think very occasionally, very strategically, Jenkins will stand behind a LIT or guardian watching TV without headphones in his freaking annex and he will go. "That's not funny. that happened to me once." with such absolute pokerface. its impossible not to get a bit scared.

#i was specficially thinking about the community multiverse episode #but also my sister was recently like what would happen if you subjected jenkins to galavant and im like hed be offended but it would be so #funnn #also shes watching supernatural rn so. #very tv show for standing behind and going wow #especially if you have his level of Father And Quest issues #but honestly any random procedural- which i feel is more eves style- #or like. house. #yknow #great hit at the lit lotr marathon #the librarians