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isaacathom · 9 months

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i had a ridiculously long post in my drafts about my lil firefly knockoff thing ive got buzzing around the brainpan but what if i didnt do that, and made it much shorter

basic setting shit - different systems are daisy chained together by something called the Interstellar Highway, which are fantasy bullshit that basically tunnels through space and loop around the edge of systems for a speed boost. Because of the speeds needed, every system on a highway has a structure called the OnRamp, which basically fucking catapults you onto the highway. theyre great.

it used to be that you would stop at every system on the highway to refuel and to check ship integrity, because engine efficiency wasnt good enough for long journeys. however, in the last 40 or so years, industrial-grade engines have gotten to the stage that they can go 2-3 systems without stopping, and that has naturally meant some systems have started languishing.

the system the story takes place in is one of those, where it primarily acted as a pit stop. the only traffic it really gets now is its own import traffic, which generally goes maybe 1 system over in either direction for essential goods.

because of the lack of Business, the systems sucking shit, and a lot of people in the inner system rely on a gig-economy of delivery ships that travel between them and the onramp.

the ship at the story's core is one of these gig economy ships. it's a like 30yo ship, bought on loan by one Captain Foster Cline, whose hectic routes throughout the system have gotten him within sight of owning the ship outright, but not quite.

the crew can be divided into sub groups, starting with the "captain core":

Foster Cline, a guy in his 50-60s. pretty nice guy overall, jovial and hard-working. owns and manages the ship, and can do most of the jobs alright

Andrea Seward, lady in her 40s. shes very cautious and 'safe', preferring known routes and repeat customers. handles a lot of the paperwork and accounting, though she can apparently pilot.

Ogawa Yuuji, guy in his early 50s. really sweet guy, always trying to help and offer advice even when its unasked for. works as the ships gunner and security guy, as well as being a general strong pair of arms.

These three have known each other for years, Cline and Ogawa in particular going back to before he bought the ship, and Seward being one of their first 'hires' when they went into business.

Then we have the younger gen:

Jalen Romilly, man in his late 20s. He's a guy who likes to follow rules and structures, always wanting things planned out and knowing what's happening. He's also particularly worried about diseases and germs, so he keeps his areas of the shop spotless. He's the ship's slow and steady primary pilot.

Gideon van der Karmozijn, man in his early 30s. He's a creative guy, loves tinkering and trying new shit, and he's always confident it will work. He's the ships primary mechanic, and secondary pilot.

These two are more recent hires, the last 5 years or so, replacing an irregular churn through other pilots and mechanics over the 30yrs of the ships operation.

The basic vibe is this ship always starts its route at the OnRamp, and the captain core + Romilly will sit down and plan out what jobs they're taking for the next little bit, trying to layer as many on top of eachother as they can for maximum profit, with the understanding that they'll revisit the list at every stop to tack more onto the end, continuing a month-long rush of work before they will return to the OnRamp station for a week.

It's gig economy delivery, and it can vary a good deal. You'll get people asking for medicine, businesses asking for raw materials, groups requiring transit from point a to point b, people needing you to transfer shit on their behalf, so on. Most of them it's pretty uneventful, though the need to try and get good profit margins means sometimes tensions can flare. it can be a big mess.

The "show", such that it is structured in my mind, would begin with 2.5 ish episodes of the 'regular shit' for these guys. obviously some of their more exciting or complicated jobs, drama with someone unwilling to pay, so on. at one point they do end up picking up a package from a shady 'merchant' where the implication is that their goods are all stolen. And it's like, well... ? not much we can do. Cline has been a good client of theirs for years, yknow how it is.

then during the third episode, they follow up on a job that needs them to go to a vineyard in high country of one of the planets to pick up a delivery bound for a bar on a different planet. they land a little ways off, and the captain core traipse off to go sort everything out with the owners while the younger gen man the ship.

at which point a group a ruffians descend upon the ship to try and take it.

karmozijn manages to barricade himself and romilly into the bridge and radio for help, and ogawa bounds off. before the others can respond, they get cut off by some members of the group, and shit just fully ensues. cline and seward get into a short firefight in the woods, ending in cline being fatally shot and seward scaring off the hijackers by convincing them that the vineyard owners are coming with firepower (they are, but they were still a few minutes out). on the ship, meanwhile, ogawa ends up fighting the hijackers in the engine room, managing to defeat or scare them off but receiving serious injuries.

with the aid of the vineyard owners, they get cline's body back to the ship and karmozijn is able to very patch-repair the mechanisms in the engine room so the ship will go. because, well... they're in the inner system, aren't they? high country, no less, middle of fucking nowhere. ships damaged, going slow as shit but theyre in a rush. nearest hospital? nearest hospital with SPACE? fucking hell. romilly is eventually able to make contact with an ambulance ship thats willing to make a detour to meet them on its way to somewhere else, and thus they get on a fuking move.

they don't make it to the rendezvous before ogawa dies.

whereas there was nothing they could do for cline, ogawa shouldn't've have died. his injuries were bad, yes, but evidently manageable. with prompt medical treatment, he would've pulled through. and they couldn't get him there.

the ship, two crew down, hobbles back to the OnRamp. each begins a rapid suite of various tasks - Seward is handling job cancellations, paperwork, the police investigation, and also volunteers/demands to be the one to tell Cline's daughter what happened. Romilly is handling talking to Ogawa's family, as well as hiring a new gunner on the double so that they can try to resume work quickly. Karmozijn is handling ship repairs, trying to make it fit into their suddenly stretched budget. and everyones grieving, and everyones handling it pretty poorly.

into this hectic period, covered by a few episodes in my mind, the crew expands not by the expected one, but by three - the new crew:

Petra Cline, Foster's daughter, in her early 20s. she's an adventurous sort who loves to try new things, and in this specific instance shes pissed. She all but demands to be allowed aboard by reasoning with Seward that since the ownership deeds were in Foster's name, as his next of kin she legally owns the ship. Seward decides not to press the issue (it may come up later anyway)

Zayvia Eskarra, nb in their mid 30s. An awkward and poorly social but lovely individual, they're brought on as the ships new gunner largely by dint of being the first person to apply for the position.

Ko Xue, woman in her last 20s. She's confident and brash, working on a vibes-based level on a lot of things. after the first 4/5 crew job goes Okay Ish but not ideal, it's agreed that they need a new pilot to replace Romilly so that he can shift into a managerial position (Sewards idea), and Ko takes that primary pilot role.

A new crew of 5/6 established, they continue on, doing a whole bunch of shit. its largely the same work, very episodic job-of-the-week business. the main underlying thing is the way the crew adapts and grows close, or apart, as the case may be.

there are a few key plots that would occur throughout in the show:

Ko is an extremely qualified ship pilot. like, highway certified. The fact she's working as the primary pilot for a dinky gig ship is bizarre, and it eventually comes to light that this is effectively a side gig for her main job, which is working for a prestigious, slightly dubious inter-system organisation who have their fingers in a lot of pies. she joined because she thought they'd help her make a difference in her dead-end system, but has found that to not be the case, and is locked into an exceptionally long contract. this interferes with her work on the ship on a number of occasions, and some members of the crew are PISSED when her status is revealed because it means shes loaded. its a whole thing.

Romilly has a family (siblings and parents) he supports with his delivery money, who occur throughout depending on how he's doing. there's a lot of drama there about whether he can afford to send the majority of his paycheck their way, especially closer to the vineyard thing, and later too. complicated stuff for him.

Eskarra is, notably, the only member of the crew who is not from the system. They're actually from a place some 4 systems down the highway, having been stranded here when the ship they were working on got 'pulled over' for illegal smuggling, being briefly locked up, and then being unable to pay for passage back home. This causes a sense of disconnect, since they arent anywhere near as familiar with the system as the others, which Eskarra attempts to rectify by like. doing chores. i love them.

Ko and Karmozijn hit it off really well because they both like pushing the ship to the limit, something that upsets both Seward and Romilly, with Romilly taking particular issue with the way Ko handles the ship - he is forced to concede she is the far better pilot, however. As close as the two become, though, Ko expresses little interest in him outside of their shared interests.

Eskarra and Romilly start lowkey dating. its a whole thing

Seward basically alienates everyone aboard the ship as she tries to live up to being the kind of captain that Cline was, which she demonstrably cannot be. she takes a special dislike to Eskarra because they are 'inferior to Ogawa in several ways', many of which have nothing to do with Eskarra's job.

Petra Cline, on the other hand, gets to be on pretty good terms with the majority of the ship, though shes on better terms with the new crew than she is with the others owing to, yknow, The Situation With Her Dad. She's the main person who is still close to Seward, because shes the one person Seward isn't rude to (or the one person who gets an unforced apology from her when she is).

She also bounces between different sectors of the ship as she learns various parts of the trade - piloting from Ko, mechanics from Karmozijn, and very limited combat stuff from Eskarra (predominantly knife-based and gun safety, with very limited opportunity to actually fire the gun bc Eskarra refuses to discharge the gun on the actual ship on principle). She does not interact with Romilly much at all, lmao.

and then we hit Da Big Thing, da big plot that i have in my noggin - a few episodes long arc in the acute sense, and certainly a longer thing overall. The Party Split.

now i have no fucking idea how we get here. my vague vibe is that there's possibly a ship that crashes off the highway into something, and theres a general sense of oh. we should uh. we should do something about that. after maybe arriving to help ferry some of the passengers to the OnRamp, maybe one of them goes 'hey. my mcguffin. can you go back and get it. ill pay you to get it' and the crew goes... yeah. sure. sure we can fetch your mcguffin. just sign this thing right here to show that we're not scavengers in case anyone asks and we'll go for it. its good pay.

and basically they're hunting for this thing, and since the ships fucked its basically picking through debris, and they aren't the only ones. guess who shows up? the shady merchants from earlier! where better to steal from than a downed ship? and they heard about a valuable mcguffin 👀

conflict ensues t'fuck. seward, romilly, and eskarra basically head out on the hunt, leaving ko, karmozijn and cline (lol) on their ship. everyones under fire. this is a mess. at some point, karmozijn tells cline that the communications are being jammed and she needs to go tell the captain (seward) that, and also that the shields are busted. she agrees, books it out. she doesnt find seward, instead finding eskarra, who is maybe Understandably Unhappy that she entered what is at this point an active fire fight, gives her a knife JUST IN CASE and tells her to fuck off back to the ship, they'll deliver the message. off they go.

on the ship, karmozijn has abandoned his station and headed to the bridge, has a conversation with Ko that quickly devolves into 'we should just get out of here, this isnt worth it' which Ko seems very lukewarm on.

on the ground, Karmozijn finds Seward to relay the message, which confuses her because Ko has been communicating with her consistently throughout the whole thing, including during her conversation with Karmozijn. And the shields seem fine? Somethings up.

Karmozijn abandons his attempt to be coy and flat out asks Ko to elope with him, which she rejects. He knocks her out, seizes the controls, and ITS. GO. TIME.

Karmozijn, Ko in tow, leaves the crash site.

Seward and Eskarra, stuck out far from the ship, end up being cut off from connecting with the rest of the crew by members of the shady group, being captured.

Cline and Romilly end up meeting up at the site where their ship used to be, and witness the departure of Seward and Eskarra with the other group.

the next bit is basically an episode for each team:

Karmozijn keeps Ko under lock and key, telling her that she could just travel with him (the under appreciated mechanic), but that if she won't he plans to just drop her off on the outskirts of some town somewhere with all her things. She manages to finagle him into letting her start packing said things in preparation, then slips away from him and leaves in the emergency shuttle. he does not pursue. she puts up a report about the ship theft, particularly paging her wealthy primary employer about the matter, and heads back to the crash site.

Cline and Romilly are forced to survive together, which is somewhat difficult because they aren't close, the ship is in so many pieces that its not a super viable shelter, and they aren't in a very hospitable area. Romilly focuses on finding things for their survival (food, shelter, so on) and Cline tries to apply the things she's learned from Karmozijn to create a distress beacon. The two end up genuinely coming to some understandings about the other, as their respective skillsets compliment fairly well. its a good camping time. it is pretty dicey though.

Seward and Eskarra are taken back to the shady merchant's base of operations and interrogated about whether they found the mcguffin or know anything about it. Despite her general demeanour, Seward holds up really well under the pressure, whereas Eskarra cracks pretty early - (un?)luckily for them, they don't know anything anyway. Seward makes a few escape attempts, without Eskarra, and for which Eskarra is punished - this does nothing to change Seward's actions. It doesn't help Eskarra that it is revealed (to Seward, anyway) that Eskarra was a former contractor of the shady merchants.

Finally, Ko returns to the crash with the shuttle and picks up Romilly and Cline, gets them fed and warmed up, and then they all mutually agree that they need to at least make an attempt to rescue Seward and Eskarra. They are actually successful, despite Seward trying to convince them to not go back in for Eskarra (Romilly, their pseudo-boyfriend, insists. thank god for homosexuality). its drama

the mcguffin almost certainly ends up being in Cline's possession, or possibly Romilly's, as the two people who remain at the crash site. so they can get back to the station (possibly with a detour for a refuel) and they can get that good good money.

obviously there are still like. consequences from this. which take some time to resolve. for instance, Karmozijn still has the fucking ship. Seward has made her dislike of Eskarra pretty fucking explicit. theres shit going on. they gotta fucking figure that out. they're also down a mechanic, a role cline probably fills at least in the interim.

its a whole thing. this is all meaningless.

#story blogging #*slaps ship* these bitches gay and the shows structure follows an anime rule for some reason #karmozijns an ass but the vibe is 100% that - despite being in the crew the whole time - hes kinda. shafted?#and it was okay-ish under Cline because Foster is a generally pretty chill guy. he smooths it over #but the status quo continues under Seward and she lacks the tact to keep him chill about it #and then he gets a fucking idea in his head and tries to elope with a woman who is nooooooot into him #and thats ignoring the fact that Ko's entire vibe. her whole motive. is trying to actually help people #so peacing out in the middle of a fire fight is a bit fucked up. she'll get his ass later #ko pays for eskarra to buy a new gun (over sewards protest) and probably even tells them to. yknow #just like. save a bullet for karmozijns knee. just in case :)#she almost certainly punches his lights out when she gets to confront him over the whole thing. itll be great #the names thing is consistently surnames in this post but theres definitely some Name Stuff happening in the actual thing #because showing how people relate to each other by what names they use is so fucking cool to me #like eg everyone on the ship calls her 'Petra' with the possible exception of Zayvia Eskarra #because for the surviving crew she's always been the captains daughter. and then Xue calls everyone by first name #whereas Eskarra is not great with social cues and defaults to surnames with everybody in an effort to be respectful #things like that. its fun. i love it #also zayvia has actually met yuuji ogawa before and when they figure out thats the former gunner its like. Ohhhhh #oh you know what i think i get where sewards coming from now. yeesh

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delulujuls · 4 months

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thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81

hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!

summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them

warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris

Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.

At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.

Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.

And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.

It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.

However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.

Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.

"What the hell"

The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?

The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.

Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?

She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.

"Are you ready?"

The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.

"I think I have a problem"

Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.

"Can we come in?"

Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.

Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.

"What happened?"

Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.

"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"

Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.

Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.

"Is it very tight?"

"Oh, just look!"

The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.

"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."

"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”

"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."

Oscar said calmly.

Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.

"What a total shit"

"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"

"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."

"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."

Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.

"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"

The girl burst out, turning again towards them.

"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."

Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.

Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.

"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"

Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.

The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.

"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."

Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?

She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.

"Seriously?"

He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.

"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."

Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.

The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.

"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."

Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.

"I think we can help you with that."

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #op81 #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #oscar piastri #lando norris x reader x oscar piastri #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader

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shirecorn · 10 months

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Changelings! Six legged insectoid beasts grown to the size of ponies, their target mimic species. Rather than evolving perfect physical mimicry, changeling imitation is a two-pronged process. In addition to a color-shifting carapace, magic distorts and twists the silhouette to match the mimicked subject. The spell is weaved with a rapid beating of the the wings, which creates a delicate network of invisible magic threads that tie the changeling's physical form to the projected mirage to make it move. After casting the spell, the changeling needs to recast it periodically, so if you doubt your friend's identity, listen for the buzzing of wings.

It takes a lot of concentration to keep the illusion in place, and changelings are naturally much taller than ponies when standing at their full height. Inexperienced or agitated changelings may forget to crouch, which breaks the illusion in a terrifying way. Because the features of the mirage are bound to the underlying insect body, moving wrong will distort the perceived form before it reveals what lies beneath.

The reason changeling bodies are so much longer than their target species is to allow a changeling to mimic creatures many times their size, provided they have the wingspan to reach the entire length of the target individual. A full wingspan is the sign of a healthy changeling, one that has enough magic to cast their illusions without much effort. Without sufficient magic, a changeling must constantly refresh their spell, and the ceaseless beating tears their delicate wings to shreds.

There is one changeling with enough magic to spare: The Queen. Drones store magic in their tails and bring it back to feed her. The queen of years past has been bleeding them dry and soaking up all their magic, leaving what should be a healthy reservoir in their tails as a withered pocket. This new style of ruling could possibly have started as a response to the ascension of the Goddess of Love, and the resulting magicification of feelings of romantic and platonic love.

For millennia, changelings evolved to feed on emotions directed at them (or rather the being they mimic) and convert it into magic. Positive emotions were the most stable, but any emotion worked. But when Love started to feel an entire meal, and gave the drones strength to subsist on their own, their queen demanded every drop of intoxicating love for herself, leaving them in a constant state of starvation and desperation.

Just a little love can go a long way. Changelings are forbidden from changing their colors or illusions to express themselves, as they must be seen as "mindless drones" and part of a single hive mind, despite their potential for individuality. Instead, they remain black unless imitating a pony or other creature. Each section of a changeling's carapace has a clear top layer with liquid suspended above the actual armor layer beneath. Microscopic grooves display different colors and shades based on how much of the liquid fills them, and how much pressure it's under. With the base colors set, wings spin the illusion of form to completely disguise the changeling beneath.

But what if they didn't have to save all their energy for disguises? What if there was enough love to go around?

The Changeling Revolution is an ongoing battle, but it has a hopeful, vibrant spark. Led by a mild-mannered former "drone," a growing faction are discovering peace, safety, and individuality by feeding off love directed not at illusions they cast, but to the people they truly are. It's a scary, vulnerable first step to allow others to see your true nature, but the rewards of loving and being loved are worth it.

Revolutionaries are not "reformed" so much as healed by embracing individual love. It turns out when each changeling allows themself to have their own color, preferences, and name, then the love felt from one changeling to another can be converted into magic, and a hive can become a thriving ecosystem within itself.

Nymphs, once destined for a viscous cycle of deception and starvation, are now able to bask in love given to them by hivemates, and they grow up stronger and kinder than any generation before. Though they can only shift into pastel colors until their carapace fully hardens and darkens, they still express by choosing their own look, name, and destiny.

The healing of the changeling population is as varied as their prismatic colors, and as beautiful as their glittering wings.

#changeling #mlp changeling #changeling fanart #changelings #changelings redesign #mlp redesign #mlp thorax #mlp ocellus #friendship is magic #queen chrysalis #mlp #mlp fim #mlp g4 #shire draws mlp #skyscraper gods #sckyscraper gods lore #long post

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zeearts · 11 months

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what love means for the Humanoid Typhoon.

this came to me in a dream, I had to draw it out. Trimax keeps haunting me; if you've not read it yet i highly recommend it 😭

i couldn't resist the call of both Stampede and Maximum's designs so i mixed them a little :)

EDIT: THANK YOU @princess-of-purple-prose for the ID tags!!!

[ID: A Trigun Stampede comic with some design elements from the Trigun manga.

First, Rem hugs young Vash and Knives, who both smile at her. They're captioned "Love is... family and safety in a mother's hug. But also--"

Next, Vash and Wolfwood fight together, Vash looking strained with effort and some black feathers emerging while Wolfwood grins. "Being in sync, a deep trust in having each other's backs in battle."

Vash wraps his torso with a sad expression. "It isn't always reciprocated, but it is also a love for humanity, despite the deep scars it leaves."

Vash smiling as he eats a donut. "Sometimes it is in a donut."

Vash cooks stir fry with a somber expression and almost fully black hair while Livio looks at him with shame from the dining table. "Sometimes it's feeding a brother in the wake of shared grief."

Vash and Meryl kiss their knuckles, smiling at each other as Meryl cries. "To be just a little selfish. Promising your future to another, to return home. To ask for them: 'Please wait for me.'"

Vash and Knives supporting each other post-final battle, their single wings spreading out together. "It is also sparing your brother, despite. It is in saving each other." End ID]

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #vashwood #vashmeryl #meryl stryfe #nicholas d. wolfwood #rem saverem #millions knives #livio the double fang #razlo

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doctorbeth · 9 months

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Jigsaw Teddy Bear

It's been a while since I've posted about a jigsaw puzzle patient, and I just sent one home, so I thought I'd share his story today. :-)

Mr Theodore E. Bear, known as Teddy to his friends, was not feeling well. Teddy's person wrote:

When I was born, my father bought me my first (and only) teddy bear. That was 66 years ago. Sadly, our new pup tore it up. I cannot describe my heart break. I lost my dad in 1999 and this was the only personal thing I had left from him.

Could I please get an estimate on fixing him?

I would so appreciate your efforts.

This is the photo she sent of her Teddy:

She actually had both eyes, and the tears were pretty clean, but Teddy had lost a significant percentage of his head and front body. We agreed on a treatment plan to include a spa (thereby removing Puppy saliva), and he flew to the hospital from Arizona.

When patients are in pieces like this, spa photos can be a bit... disturbing, so I don't send them. Suffice it to say that given his age, the surviving cream and brown parts needed to be separated to be safely cleaned, and I kept his googly eyes out of the water.

Once he was dry, surgery proceeded. It's a bit complicated when you aren't sure what his original shape was. I sent this photo I found online to ask if it perhaps looked like him:

It was so close, his person thought it WAS him at first! But there were issues I could see with this sample. For instance, when teddy arrived one eye was on cream fur. So using this as a guide, but keeping that in mind, I went about putting him back together. There's a fur whose reverse side is a really close match for older, well loved bears like him, and I used that for the darker brown areas. For the missing cream areas (which were really more of a yellow) I used a smooth minky fur.

Here was the first set of photos of Teddy:

Well, it turned out that despite the eyes being on yellow cream on arrival, his person remembered them on brown. That memory is what is important, so that part of his face needed to be adjusted. Also, the head and muzzle were a little too big, as was the nose... but his body was looking good!

Here's the next set of photos (without the nose on... it'd go on once we got the muzzle size/shape right).

That was right! And then there was the new nose, which was embroidered:

All set! His person wrote:

Love it!

Thank you!

He’s perfect!

Oh, and lest you think I forgot his heart of original stuffing, he did get it, it just goes in at a different time with jigsaw animals that need lots of adjustment. Here it is being made and installed:

Teddy made it home safe and sound. His person wrote: Thank you so much! You saved him and a huge piece of my heart! Teddy is HOME! He’s wonderful and I so appreciate your hard work!

#stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal hospital #stuffed animals #teddy bear repair #teddy bear hospital #teddy bear cleaning #stuffed animal cleaning #teddy bear #1950s teddy bear #1950s toy #1950s stuffed animal #1950s #1950s toys

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theemporium · 8 months

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💰 with sugar daddy Carlos, you get in an accident in one of his expensive cars and freak out thinking he’s going to be pissed but instead he just worries about you?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

It happened so fast that you weren’t even sure what happened.

Carlos had been so insistent that you take one of his many cars. You had been stubborn for the best part, far too attached to the crappy car you saved up for and bought after almost a year of working your ass off and saving every penny. It was your baby even if it took more effort and money to keep running over the years over buying a new car, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet.

But then Carlos had seen you taping your side mirror back on (again) and had to practically beg for you to use one of his cars. He even promised to keep your car in the garage amongst his multiple sports cars and high-end names that you still thought only existed in James Bond movies, and in return, you took one of his cars out when you needed to go to work or run errands.

And that was exactly what you had been planning today.

It was meant to be a quick errand run: mostly grocery shopping, picking up a few things from the dry cleaners and popping into a few other shops you had been meaning to visit the next time you were out. And everything had been going fine until you were on your way to the food shop before you returned home.

You didn’t see him coming. You didn’t hear him coming. You didn’t even know what happened until the ringing in your ears stopped and the taste of metal was prominent in your mouth.

Ambulances and police were called to the scene. You were pulled out of the wrecked car by a paramedic, only to let out a sob and almost fall to your knees when you saw the damage. It was honestly a surprise it was still in one piece, but it was mangled and you hated to think about how much repairs would cost.

And despite your deepest wishes, the police had to call Carlos since his name was not only under the main driver of the car but also as your emergency contact.

Your stomach was in knots at what he would say. He had many cars, far too many for a single person to have but he adored every single one. The memory played on a loop in your head of Carlos telling you why he bought each car, when he bought them, the special occasion they were linked to. Each car had a meaning, and you had completely shattered one of them.

You were on the edge of throwing up the whole time you sat in the back of the ambulance, clutching onto the blanket they placed over your shoulders and trying to bite back the tears when you realised this was it.

This would be Carlos’ breaking point. This would be the reason he needed to break up with you. This would be too much even for him, even if it would barely dent his bank account to repair the car. This would be a step too far in his eyes and he was going to leave you.

“Where is she?!”

Your eyes clenched shut as you heard his voice a few feet away. You could hear the commotion like muffled voices underwater, but it took less than thirty seconds before he was rushing towards you.

“Mi amor,” he breathed out as his hands cupped your cheeks, his eyes glancing over every inch of you to make sure you’re okay.

But his touch was the last thing you needed before you broke down.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you sobbed as the tears began streaming down your face, blurring your vision of the Spaniard standing in front of you. “I didn’t see him coming and he just came out of nowhere. I didn’t mean to crash the car, Carlos, I promise. I-I’ll help pay for—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumbs wiping away the hot tears running down your cheeks. “Breathe for me, amor, breathe for me. Deep breaths. Just….breathe.”

Your breathing was still shaky and shallow as you shook her head. “But the car—”

“Fuck the car,” Carlos said, a frown downturned on his lips as he softly squeezed your face. “Mi amor, I don’t fucking care about the car. I just care if you’re okay.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Carlos murmured, and it was only now you could really see the fear and concern written all over his face and shining in his eyes. “Those cars mean nothing to me. They can be replaced. But you can’t.”

“Oh,” was all you could reply with.

“I was so scared when I got that call, I—” he let out his own shaky breath as he shook his head, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Stop apologising, amor,” he murmured before lifting his head to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you cleared and then I’m taking you home and not letting you out of my arms for at least three months.”

“Carlos—”

“I’m serious, mi amor, don’t fight me on this.”

#cece's slumblurb party #carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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serpentandlily · 7 months

Text

Untouchable - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was twisting in your chest, a sick feeling curling in the pit of your stomach, as you hurried down the dimly lit hallways of the River House. You held a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break loose and the bile that stung the back of your throat. You could do it, you could hold it in. At least until you got back to your room. And then you’d be free to cry and cry and cry as much as you wanted to.

You had spent years trying to bury your feelings for the shadowsinger. What had started out as a harmless crush on your older brother’s friend when you were just a girl had blossomed into true, real feelings since you had come of age. But despite your best efforts, Azriel still never seemed to notice you. Not like that anyways.

Him and Cassian had adored you the moment you had entered their life as just a babe and the sister of their best friend. You had been born during a time of peace, decades after the war. The three of them had been nearing two-hundred. They had watched you grow into the female you were today. Had been there through your toughest years after watching your mother brutally murdered in front of you at the age of thirteen, barely saved before your own life was taken.

It was a good thing Rhys had become High Lord before the time you reached eighteen or your father would’ve had you married off, no doubt for some political alliance. You had hoped your brother would’ve given you a role in his court once you were of age but after almost losing you, he had become increasingly protective.

So instead of being sent on missions, or used as an emissary, you spent most of your time volunteering in Velaris—helping to build the sanctuary into what it was today. You had eventually stopped arguing with your brother to loosen up his hold on you when he had broken down crying in front of you simply at the thought of you never returning if he was to send you out in the world.

And how could you complain when Velaris had been your cage? So you learned to play your role, for him, for your brother. The pretty little sister of the High Lord. Never known for anything but your beauty. The beauty that had males sending your father marriage propositions since the age of ten.

But there had only ever been one person you wished would see you that way. And he never had. You had to watch him pine after your own cousin for centuries. Never once looking your way. You feared he’d only ever see you as that little girl—the one who used to climb all over them at the cabin, the one who had the three males wrapped around her finger since she had been born.

Only ever just a girl in his eyes.

And you had made peace with that, as much as it hurt to be looked over by the one person you wanted the most. It still bothered you to watch his eyes track Mor all the time, to stare at her in a way he would never look at you. You had made peace with that…until tonight.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you hadn’t seen the shift in him when he started looking after the middle Archeron sister. You had once believed he only had eyes for Mor, and it had brought you some solace in knowing that might be the only reason he had never looked your way.

But then Elain showed up and those affections shifted from Mor to her. Suddenly he was always with her, spending hours in the gardens with Elain. Staring at her the way he would stare at Mor. Your heart had started crumbling all over again with the realization that he could move on from Mor, could fall for someone other than her—and it hadn’t been you.

You had left your bed chambers tonight to fetch a glass of water from the kitchens but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you would’ve walked in on. You had smelt them before you opened the doors. Azriel’s cedar and night-chilled mist and Elain’s sweet jasmine and honey.

You should’ve left then but something had compelled you to open the kitchen doors just a hair.

And there they were. Elain seated on the counter, Azriel between her legs. Her skirt has been pushed up to her thighs, his hands tangled in her hair, as they kissed like two starved animals.

You were lucky you had spent years learning how to keep a strong mask like your brother, for it allowed you to slip away without them ever noticing you.

You finally made it to your room, shutting the door and locking it behind you. You were grateful for the sound wards you had put up because the minute you stepped over that threshold you collapsed into a heap on the floor as heart-wrenching sobs erupted from your lips.

It felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with a million knives, like someone had gutted you and twisted your insides. It hurt so much to think that Azriel would never want you the way you wanted him. He didn’t want you. He didn’t crave your presence the way you did his. He didn’t want to touch you the way you wanted to touch him. He just didn’t want you.

And he never would.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Send me somewhere,” you said, pressing your palms onto your brother’s desk as you stared at him right in the eyes—the eyes you shared. “Anywhere, I don’t care. Just send me somewhere.”

Rhys frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “What has gotten into you? Did something happen?”

You let out a sigh, collapsing in one of the armchairs. You couldn’t tell him the real reason you wanted to leave. It was embarrassing. “Nothing happened. I’m just…tired of being cooped up here. Please, Rhys. It doesn’t even have to be far—just please.”

“Where is this coming from, y/n? You haven’t asked this in years. I thought you were happy here.”

“I am happy here. But I want to see the world, Rhys. And we’re finally in a time of peace. So let me, please.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed, taking in your appearance. The slightly swollen eyes, the dark circles, the haphazard way you had braided your hair this morning. “Did…did someone hurt you? Did someone do something to you?”

“What? No!” A lie of course. But what could you say? Azriel had hurt you but it wasn’t like it was his fault. It wasn’t like he owed you anything.

“You know you can always talk to me about anything. Right, dove?” The use of his nickname for you nearly caused the tears you were fighting back to escape.

“Of course, Rhys. But I promise you. No one did anything to me. Please. The war is finally over and I think I’ve spent enough of my life here. I want to see what the rest of the world has to offer.”

Rhys’s head fell in his hands. “I-I don’t think I can let you go, dove. I’m sorry but I can’t bear it…I can’t bear not having you here where I can protect you.”

“It’s not fair!” You shouted, standing up. “I’m not a child anymore—I’m nearly three hundred years old for Gods sake! I’m suffocating here, Rhysie. Please.”

“Rhys,” Feyre said softly, placing a tattooed hand on her mate’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time you let y/n make her own choices. You promised me you’d always give me a choice—would always let me decide what to do with my life. Why can’t that apply to your sister?”

You shot her a grateful look, hoping she would make him see reason. Rhys stayed silent and you knew he had been struck by her words. “I can go to Mor, on the continent. Then you don’t have to worry about me being alone. I can help her try to form alliances there.”

Still he said nothing but judging by Feyre’s narrowed eyes, you could tell they were having an argument mentally. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress, wishing that he would listen to his mate about this. If anyone could talk Rhys into something, it was her.

It felt like an eternity went by before your brother finally looked up at you. His eyes were full of sadness and guilt and you knew in that moment, you had won.

“Fine, fine. But you will go to Mor in Vallahan and stay with her the whole time. You will listen to her at all times and never go anywhere alone. And you will write me twice a week,” Rhys growled. “And I swear, y/n, if you even miss one letter, I will come get you myself. Those are my rules—take it or leave it.”

A genuine smile bloomed on your face as you jumped to your feet and ran around the desk to embrace your brother in your arms. “Thank you, Rhys! Thank you! I promise I’ll do as you say. I promise.”

He held you tightly as if he never wanted to let go and you peered at Feyre from over his shoulders to mouth her a small ‘thank you’.

This was it. You’d finally be able to leave this city after three hundred years. Finally see the world! And most importantly: be far, far away from the shadowsinger that had won your heart but fallen for another.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Three months went by in the blink of an eye. You had spent the entire time traveling with Mor from Vallahan to Montesere, where you two had just settled down when Rhys had contacted you both, asking for your return home. Apparently he had big news to share but he wanted to do it in person. So now you were packing up your things, getting ready to return back to Velaris for the first time since you had left.

It had been annoying how much you thought of Azriel still. But it was getting easier to ignore the longer you were away. You hoped those feelings would eventually disappear entirely—but every time you thought of moving on, something in your chest would ache and ache.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t taken lovers in your time here. It had always been hard to find males to mess around with in Velaris considering they all knew who your brother was. The last thing they wanted was for Rhys to come looking for them after sleeping with you. So you’d only taken a few lovers here and there throughout the years.

But on the continent, no one knew who you were. Had no idea that you were the younger sister of one of Prythian’s High Lords. And Mor had been sure to teach you all the ways to have someone wrapped around your finger. You had never felt so confident in yourself as you did now. Finally becoming the female you wanted to be without your brother or the two other bats watching you over your shoulder. It was exhilarating.

But the thought of returning home had dampened some of your newfound joy. You were worried about slipping into your old role—being that sweet, pretty, little accessory they all expected you to be.

You wouldn’t allow that. You couldn’t. Not after having a taste of what it could be like if you became the female you always dreamed you’d be. Someone who knew she was desired for more than just her looks. Someone interesting. Someone smart and witty. Someone brave. You tried to ignore the part of you that hoped Azriel might see those things in you now.

“Are you ready to go, y/n?” Mor asked, leaning against the doorframe of your room.

You took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror. You were wearing a dress that was typical of what they wore here in Montesere. If you could even call it a dress. It was white, the bodice dipping into a v-shape and clinging to your body with gold embellishments and blue gems decorating it. It had long sleeves that connected to a hood, stitched in glimmering gold. It cut off right under your breasts, exposing your toned stomach until just slightly passed your belly button.

The skirt was held up by two thin gold straps that criss-crossed over the sides of your hips to connect it to the top part of the dress. The skirt itself traveled to the floor and had two long slits on either side to show off your legs. The white color complimented your tanned skin and the kohl you had lined your eyes with made the violet color of your eyes glimmer even brighter.

You had left your hair down in soft curls, only pinning back two strands on either side of your face with some gold pins. More than happy with the way you looked, you turned back to Mor with a grin.

“I’m ready to go home.”

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #angst #rhysand sister #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #shadowsinger x reader #acosf #post war

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silkscream · 5 months

Text

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

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mrchiipchrome · 17 days

Text

Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

#woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #stay tuned for the Alessia fic it’s currently at 9.6 k words:)

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talesofsonicasura · 3 months

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To Save A DogDay

I couldn't help but write this after seeing the constant dedication of saving the giant toy doggo. So here's something to assist you guys in the effort. I've done some research(even though Google was being an ass) and took a look at this particular post by @dafloof

First off, DogDay is surprisingly big despite being cut in half. If I have to compare his size then think of those giant plushies you win from a theme park or carnival game. Thus the only possible carry for the average person to safely escort him is bridal or hanging off like a koala on the side due to the grab pack. He might be able to shrink himself to a more manageable size if DogDay is similar to CatNap in body structure.

Although that doesn't mean the task is impossible outside of adrenaline. DogDay may be big you got to think about his possible weight. Bigger Bodies are still toys with the Smiling Critters being plushies. How much of him is stuffing and not organs?

The necessary body parts for him to still be alive are the lungs, heart, brain, stomach, and some sort of skeletal structure. Here's a weight chart for the average human. (Although these might be smaller if harvested back as a child than an adult.)

Stomach: 2-4 pounds/lbs

Brain- 2.5 pounds/lbs

Heart- 0.25 pounds/lbs

Lungs- 1.8 pounds/lbs

Human Skeleton- 15-25 pounds/lbs

Average weight here 21.05 - 31.05 lbs. His arm bones might be reinforced similar to the Prototype but they still wouldn't be that heavy. For carrying in your arms, 35- 55 lbs is what the the untrained person can hold. Body weight contributes to how much someone can carry with a 139 lbs untrained woman being able to deadlift around 74 lbs. For men it is 125 lbs for 148 lbs.

Adrenaline can help contribute to this as there have been feats done by people in dangerous situations. One example being a human mother fighting off a polar bear to protect her kids or someone moving a car by themselves to get free. We can do insane things when it comes to survival.

There's also the mental side to this. Our brains actually diminish the perception of how strong we are by 40%. If you carry something you love or cherish like a person, then they can weigh less just from that viewpoint. Sometimes thinking like the Little Engine That Could will make a difference.

Now I am not forgetting the dangerous little critters. There are ways to deal with them and have enough time to bring DogDay along. In his cell, there are two ports they can crawl out of. Blocking these whether by flares or stuffing them with nearby items can do the trick.

Second is bribery. We aren't restricted to the environment like in the game and throughout the facility there are intact vending machines. The toys obviously need to eat but seem unable get into the machines. YOU CAN.

Break the glass and stockpile as much snacks as possible. Finding bags or boxes to carry them wouldn't be hard. Offer these to the little Critters in exchange for DogDay. You can open one bag for further incentive as the chance to get a special treat is something no one will be able to resist.

DogDay might be able to drag himself so breaking the chains with the Grab Pack or a different tool is possible. They are probably rusty thus easier to break. It will obviously hurt for DogDay to drag his body so stealing something like a cushion from CatNap's hideyhole could ease the pain.

Should that not be the case then other options are available. Considering Playcare is a fun house, you might be able to find scooterboards or a platform cart to carry him. If not then a makeshift sled to pull DogDay about is the next best move.

Now there's actually another escape route. A duck ride that you couldn't access in the game due to bugs. I think Mob was planning for a chase down there as it is fully fleshed out with puzzles and an environment.

DogDay can hold onto the boat while you solve the puzzles to get out. For those who hadn't chosen bribery then flares will keep pursuing Little Critters away. Maybe set a fire as you escape since there's plenty of items to make a molotov cocktail if crafty enough.

I suggest finding some walkie talkies as someone needs to look after DogDay. The area under the statue can be a possible safe spot but being able to contact Kissy Missy and Poppy will better the chances of his recovery than just survival. Both know the factory's inner works enough to remain hidden so they might know where to find supplies. A possible ally with valuable info can sway them to help.

There is also the option of coming back to Playcare. DogDay might still be alive as you can hear his muffled cries during the chase. He might be worse for wear due to the little menaces piloting him like a bootleg Megazord. Walkie talkies can help you page Kissy Missy to help with escorting the Bigger Body safely.

It is possible to save DogDay if you are smart or crafty enough to use the environment. The factory offers a lot of potential options to help with that. Do know that you can turn a simple water gun into a flamethrower.

Why follow the rules of the game when there are ways to break them?

#sonicasura #tales of sonicasura #poppy playtime #ppt #smiling critters #dogday #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime deep sleep #poppy playtime smiling critters #writing ideas #writing prompts #sorta #inspiration #save the doggo #poppy playtime spoilers

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