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brooklynbedlam · 5 months

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Raw Violence

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve finally pushed Joel past his limits. When your anger gets the best of you, Joel’s there to put you back in your place.

Content Warning: no Y/N, smut (oral- m receiving, degradation, hair pulling, dubcon, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, choking, spitting (if you squint), rough sex, sex in the mud, basically porn what can i say), dom!Joel, enemies to enemies with benefits, language, knife (if you squint)

A/N: i’m kind of mortified that this came from my brain, but i feel like it would be a disservice to not share these thoughts. hehe. honestly though- i would let Joel do things to me that would make my grandma cry.

Word Count: 2800

18+ under the cut! Minors DNI!

You liked to be an easygoing person. You prided yourself in it, in fact. But even you have your limits. In all your years of life, only one person could bring out the very worst of you, the parts you didn’t even think you had in you. Joel Miller. Only he could have you muttering under your breath such hateful thoughts that your mother would have washed your mouth out for. Arrogant jackass. Stupid fucking old man. His haughty posture, his irritating smirk, the obnoxious southern drawl- all of it crept under your skin down to your nerves. Your eyes stare down at your boots as you walk through the mud, keeping the imaginary verbal assault to yourself. It’s only when you run right into him that you realize he’s talking to you.

You distance yourself with a few steps back. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for the rest of the patrol?

Joel turns around with that infuriating grin, “who you talking to back there?” he asks in a mocking tone. “No one” you reply, unwilling to even attempt pleasantness. “No need to get all worked up sugar”. There he goes again- testing your patience beyond what is humanly possible. If looks could kill, he’d be cold in the ground. You push him aside and keep moving forward down the trail. Joel chuckles and follows close behind unbothered. “What stick’s up your ass?” he jokes. You turn on your heels, index finger pushing right on his chest. “YOU,” you shout “are my problem”.

You somehow manage to stop yourself there. Your self-control amazes even him. More than anything you’d love to rip his ego to pieces and wipe that stupid smirk clean off his face. Joel takes a small step back, “Well, it’s clear this ain’t gonna be a pleasant conversation so why don’t you calm down and not say anything you might regret”. WOW. Where do you even start? Telling you to calm down or telling you not to say something you’ll regret? Now you swear your face must be bright red because you feel like you’re boiling, ready to blow. A dry chuckle leaves your lips as you mentally step off the edge and let your anger overtake everything. “Oh I’m sorry? Don’t want me to hurt your precious feelings there Joel?”. Your fists subconsciously clench with your jaw, knuckles going pale.

“Ain’t my feelings I’m worried about sweetheart. I’d rather be civilized with you but if you got another idea, fine. Do your worst”. Well, you heard him clearly, he was practically begging you to let every vile comment swirling around your brain out in the open. “You wouldn’t be able to handle the truth” you say confidently. Now that set something off in him. You see the change as his eyes go dark and his usual smirk turns into a threatening grimace. His posture makes you feel so small, but you keep your head high refusing to back down from this fight. “Oh yeah?” he growls, “You wanna run that by me again?”. Your entire nervous system is pleading to run, to apologize, and chalk it up to a bad night’s sleep. But you won’t, you can’t- not when it feels so good to finally let it all out.

“Gladly”. You push your chest out and straighten your posture, not nearly as tall but your eyes bore right into his. “You. Can’t. Handle. The. Truth”. Venom drips from your every word, you look for a sign that your words even landed because Joel stands unflinchingly. Almost like the words passed right through him, he refuses to break eye contact. “Oh, but I think I can. So go ahead: hit me with it. I dare you”. There’s a slight smile at the end of his sentence, a smile of that stupid arrogant confidence. He thinks he’s winning. You pause only for a moment to conjure up the cruelest thought you could dare speak. “Fine. Joel, you are the most insufferable prick I’ve ever met in my life. Every time I see you come around with that stupid goddamn smirk like you’re so high and mighty- I just wanna wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. You may think that every person in town is just so scared of you and your stories, but everyone sees you exactly for what you are- a coward”. For a moment Joel looks almost hurt, then he gets angry, real angry. The rage in his expression threatens to cause an explosion. Yet his voice is cold and controlled, an underlying danger in his tone. “That’s all huh? I’m guessing there’s more?” he replies stoically, his clenched jaw and wild eyes the only giveaways of what’s going on in his mind. Then a perfect addition comes to mind, something that will really bruise his ego.

“Yeah, there is. You’re such an asshole with your ridiculous sob story and how you drag that poor girl Ellie through hell just so you can play house again,” you barely even recognize yourself as the words leave your mouth but you keep going, now moving in even closer. “Frankly, I think you’re just a pathetic bastard”. For a moment you see the hate in his eyes, as if he’d like nothing more right now than to shoot you and leave you for the strays. And then, slowly, he lets out a low chuckle- a laugh that’s equal parts amusement, anger, and something else. When he finally speaks, his tone sounds…different. “You done?”. You can’t help but smirk and cross your arms, head high with a sense of victory. “I’m done”. A sense of pride settles in your chest, no witty remark from Joel this time. You’re completely caught off guard when he moves with deceptive speed, getting you in a lock with one hand, and a knife to your throat with the other. His face is inches from yours, a dark fury in his eyes. “You sure about that sweetheart? Nothin’ else you wanna get off your chest?”. His hand tightens around your throat, enough to feel the growing pressure. Joel burns with violent intensity, primal anger that seems to belong in the distant past; a threat, a warning, a promise.

With rapidly fading confidence you muster up another dig. “You don’t have the guts to stand your ground Miller, because you’re just an insecure little man”. Joel’s grip tightens another notch, impossibly close to cutting off your circulation altogether. A pathetic whimper leaves your mouth, betraying the little confidence you have left. He seems to notice the slight fear in your eyes and a smile pulls at his lips, “You really wanna bet?”. Your alarm bells are ringing, although it could just be your head pounding. Physically, he has you under his thumb. In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you elbow Joel’s chest and break out of his grip. You quickly pull out your switchblade, evening the playing field. You notice a grin on his face. “Something funny Miller?”.

His hand grabs your wrist lightning fast and with brute force, sending the silver blade tumbling into the grass below. Joel looks unhurt, unflustered. “No, I just thought you’d put up a better fight”. Your grunts and squirming are to no avail as he effortlessly pins you into the tree behind you. One hand holds you down while his leg keeps you in place. Your breathing is heavy and you watch as his gaze lowers ever so slightly. You curse yourself for wearing a v-neck shirt, but especially for even getting yourself into this situation. A calloused hand slowly makes its way to your waist, gliding up the thin material of your shirt. His breath fans against your skin, “Give up?”.

Even though your heart is pounding, part of you finds it exhilarating. Your confidence returns if only just to satiate your curiosity. “Make me”. You bite down on Joel’s arm, hard enough for him to let go. He’s caught off guard and he pulls his arm back. You take the small window of opportunity to land a punch square in his jaw. Joel looks back unfazed as his hand brushes the stubble of his cheek. He laughs. It’s a cold, cold, calculating laugh, one that rings with the threat of death. Smiling down at you he looks amused, “You want me to make you?”. “I’d like to see you try”. Your brain is positively running on autopilot, replying out of pure instinct and void of any rational thinking. The hatred has now morphed into a strange blend of curiosity and something else that strikes you down to your core. You fight with every bone in your body to grapple with him, and though you are strong, it’s no match for Joel. In no time you’re down in the dirt, Joel pinning you down with his weight. He smiles and your heart sinks. It’s a terrifying smile with an undercurrent of unbridled violence. He doesn’t look hurt or even like he broke a sweat; he’s just as energetic as ever. The only difference now is the bulging weight you feel against your thigh. It sends electricity to your core as your mind runs wild. Joel moves his hand slowly down your chest, letting his rough hands relish the soft skin. His eyes lock on yours, and it’s a terrifying sight. He leans closer, and his voice is low, almost a whisper, yet it seeps into your very bones. “Say please”.

“No” You bark and focus all your energy on resisting the thoughts that are flooding into your mind. You know what he wants, what he’s asking. But you won’t let him win. “Final warning, sweetheart. I don’t play nice” he chuckles dryly, a feral bearing of teeth. At this point, all better judgment is out the window. There’s no backing out, your pride too fragile to do anything but stand your ground and make him regret ever existing. Joel is impossibly close, light breath fanning your face. Fuck it, you’ll fight dirty. You close in and kiss him with equal parts passion and hatred. His hands move to grip you, pawing anxiously at whatever skin his hands can find. With a rough grasp of your ass, you moan into the kiss before biting down on Joel’s lip just enough to draw blood. He smiles, pulling back with a small bead of crimson running down his lip. His face is ice cold, but you’re drawn to him. Attracted in a way that defies logic, explanation, or understanding. Your heart races, breath becoming heavier, you feel...strange. Like you want him, as if you need him, desire him. Your body and soul crave it even if blatantly disregarding your mind.

You bring a delicate hand to wipe a trace of his blood from your lip, and in an unexpected move you pull him down to your level and sit in his lap. Joel makes no effort to resist. That annoying grin on his face spurs you to grind into the rough denim of his pants, the dull friction sending shock waves up your spine. He does his best to hold back a groan but you can see it on his face just how much he’s enjoying this. You keep going, slowly building your orgasm to its peak. You’re so close. Blood rushes to your head and you feel electricity spark through your legs down to- fuck. Just as quick as it came along, your pleasure disintegrates under you. Joel has pinned your hips down against him, stopping all your movement. You whine at the loss of motion. Cheap move.

He pushes you from his lap and stands, his erection clear under the thick jeans. “I think you’re confused darlin. You think you just get whatever you want?” he scoffs. “I’ll tell you how this is gonna work,” he says in his smooth Texas drawl, “you are gonna do whatever I tell you and if you can behave yourself then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you like”. Your head is still reeling from your almost orgasm, but you’re coherent enough to hear his instruction. He grabs you by the arm pulling you to your knees. Thick, calloused fingers tilt your chin up and drop your mouth open. Joel looks down at you expectedly as his leather belt leaves its loops. You stare daggers at him but he only grins “be a good girl for once, or I could just tie you here and leave you for the stragglers”. With that, you stifle your pride and release his confined cock. You pathetically take him in your mouth and lazily swirl your tongue around the angry, leaking tip. That wasn’t enough. He thrust mercilessly into your throat as you struggled to breathe, gagging on his thick length. Joel’s lips parted with sinful growls as he guided your head. You were nothing more than a means to his end, he could care less about the air struggling to make it into your lungs or the saliva that dripped onto your chest.

He suddenly pulled out, hissing at the loss of contact. “Get on the ground and take off your clothes”. A simple request in itself but you stared unsure whether to comply or face the consequences. Deciding on the former, you look into those cold brown eyes while removing every article of clothing. Joel smirks as his hungry eyes wander your naked body, imagining what you’ll feel like, what kind of heavenly noises he could conjure out of you. He brings himself down the ground, approaching needily. You could still smell the coffee on his breath and the faint smell of his woodsy cologne as he hovered over. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his cock prying at your weeping hole. Without warning, he fully sheathed himself to the hilt. A shaky cry left your lips as you struggled to adjust to the size. Joel held himself still, composing himself, only for a moment before setting a violent pace. You braced yourself on all fours but soon found the force to be too much. Your arms weakened and buckled leaving you“You’ll do anything I say won’t you?” he looks down almost with pity. Brain rotted with pleasure, you stutter to make even a simple response. That answer doesn’t suffice. Not for Joel. A firm hand pulls at your hair, lifting your eyes to look right at him. “Answer me”. He grips your hips tighter, pushing you deeper into the mud. Your hands blindly search for an anchor, left to dig into the mud and branches underneath you for support. “Yes Joel!” you yell, using all your focus to get the words out. There is just a hint of cruelty at the center of the darkest, most dangerous eyes you’ve ever seen. But they’re on you, all for you. “You like that huh? You like what I’m givin’ ya?”.

Joel’s groans build as you watch the light brown strands of his hair mat to his forehead and his teeth grit. He wants more and more- an unbridled, raw, and ravenous hunger for you and you alone. And for once you see eye to eye. He’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel. The cold mud underneath and ever-dimming sunlight aren’t even an afterthought. “Now tell me sweetheart, who would you do anything for?”. It’s like something else is controlling him; his own animalistic desire a creature all its own. A force of nature, the likes of which only the apocalypse could make a man. “You.....you.....you” comes out in pathetic whimpers. Tears prick at your eyes, it’s just too much. His hands grabbing at your skin, his thick cock burying deep inside you, the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth as he uses you. He notices and threatens “not yet”. Joel digs his fingers into the plush flesh of your hips as his relentless pace begins to falter. “Now come for me darlin'”. Relief floods your body as you finally get your release, crying out and clawing into the earth. Feeling you tense around his cock, Joel pushes himself to the brink with a merciless pace. Your name leaves his mouth like a primal chant, pulsing into you, letting you milk him for everything he’s got.

You’re left panting breathlessly in the cold air, skin warm with thousands of red hot nerve endings alight. “See, you’re a good girl when you stop using that head of yours”. For once, you don’t have a snarky response. Joel’s face meets yours just mere inches apart. He smiles, dark eyes black as pitch- burning, burning. With breaths just starting to settle he finally breaches the distance. It’s a surprisingly soft kiss, to juxtapose the violent, selfish acts that preceded it. But deep within it a hint of a deeper truth; something that's hidden for all this time.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #brooklynbedlam #open arms and open legs

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tiny-brass-bot · 3 months

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Hi! I saw a post where you had a game made in godot with old school rendering, do you maybe have any tips on how to make godot render a game like that instead of its normal rendering method?

I'd be right happy to!

I'll try to make this concise lol, I always end up overexplaining and then getting lost in the weeds. Buckle up, it's a loooooot of little little things that all add up.

First off, you should decide which look you're going for. N64 and PS1, the two consoles I'm emulating, both had drastically different specs. (plus, there's plenty of other early 3D systems I've not even touched!)

The N64 had texture filtering (textures were interpolated aka "blurry"), it had floating point vertex precision (points moved correctly), it had perspective correction on its textures (no warping)

The PS1 had no texture filtering, no floating point vertex precision (vertices snap and pop around), affine texture mapping (textures warp weird). I also think the color space they operate in is different? Don't quote me

So you can go hard one way or another or pick and choose what you think looks good! We don't have anywhere near the hardware restrictions they did in the 90s so go nuts.

RESOLUTION

To get a low resolution window, I set the window size of the game and the window override size to different amounts

In green is actually how big the window is on my screen (4k monitor) and in red is the retro resolution I want. If you set the stretch mode correctly (an option a little further down the Window tab) then it'll make the pixels big

COLORS

Now the PS1 had the capability of showing you over 16 million different colors, but it could only display 50,000-150,000 at a time, so in order to get more fidelity out of it, the engineers implemented a dithering effect to better blend the otherwise sharp edges between colors.

I used this shader to achieve the dithering effect. If you don't understand shader languages, that's fine. There are a few different pre-built ones for looking like the PlayStation 1 out there.

TEXTURES

Textures for the PS1 could be as big as 256x256, but they were typically 128x128. And they would squish everything a model needed into there usually, at least with like player models and objects and such.

As mentioned, if you're not good with shader language don't worry. There are countless resources out there that people will either let you use or teach you how it works. But I'm gonna touch on it a little bit here.

PS1 textures had no pixel filtering, so you could see individual pixels.

This is what determines that in the shader code. If you want it to look like the N64 (blurry lol), the proper hint is "filter_linear". Note that it won't be 1:1 with N64, cuz they used bilinear filtering (which kinda sucks and causes weird quirks) whereas now you'll only find linear or trilinear filtering. It's a negligible difference imo.

PS1 textures also were only saved using 15 bit color. I'm told that Photoshop's "Posterize" filter set to 32 can achieve this, but don't use photoshop if you can help it. I use GIMP, and while a newer version might have a posterize filter, or there may be a plugin out there, my version doesn't so I cluge it a little.

Change your color mode to "indexed", set color dithering to how you like it, and the number of colors in the palette to a number to get a good result. Usually I'll do 16, 8, 32, but occasionally I'll cheat and do a non-multiple-of-8 teehee >:3c

You can change it back to RGB after to make further editing easier.

LIGHTING

N64 and PS1 both implemented vertex lighting, as opposed to the more modern and (now) ubiquitous per-pixel lighting. Godot as it is right now (4.2 i think?) claims it has vertex lighting that you can set as a shader property but they're lying and it doesn't work yet.

The old consoles could only handle like, 2 lights though so it doesn't matter much.

The real star of the show, and in my opinion the one thing that makes a game most look like the 90s is the inclusion of vertex colors.

By multiplying the color of your texture by its stored vertex color, you can do all the shading yourself!

Plus you can reuse textures like crazy just by coloring them differently. The N64 also made heavy use of vertex colors by forgoing a texture on models entirely and just painting them using verticies. The only textures on SM64 Mario are his eyes, stache, hat emblem, buttons, and sideburns. Everything else is done with vertex colors.

Here you can see this level from my Crock Land with no vertex coloring, with some of the vertex colors only, and then with the two combined.

Rare loved this. Look at how colorful that cliffside is in Jungle Japes. It makes it so much more interesting than just a brown cliff face. Plus you can see the vertex coloration instead of textures at work on DK and the Gnawty.

My go-to example for PS1 is always Spyro, what a gorgeous game. All of those colors there are not made by a light or an environment. They're hand painted babey! Also! With spyro! The skyboxes are actually just huge domes made up of vertices that are colored in different ways! That's how they can look so colorful and "hi-res".

There's plenty more you can do, like adding a CRT filter or a little bit of chromatic aberration which I haven't gotten into yet.

The way I've learned all this is just by being curious as to how the old consoles did their thing, and slowly accruing the knowledge over time. There's still infinite stuff I don't know too.

I hope that helped! And wasn't too longwinded or confusing! Like I said, it's all about piling up tons and tons of little things, small details, weird graphical quirks that really bring out the retro 3D feel for me.

And I didn't even get into the modeling side of things! That's an entirely different "color-of-the-sky"-sized post though.

I'd be happy to re-explain or explain more about any of this!

#indie game dev #game development #retro #low poly #ps1 #n64 #tutorial #godot engine #indie dev #lowpoly

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neteyamsoare · 9 months

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My Sweet Tawtute.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Tsireya x Fem! Human! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Anonymous Request. hihi !!! I was wondering if you could write a fluffy fic of tsireya x human!fem!reader? it’d be cute to see her with someone smaller than her considering how short she is herself :).

༉‧₊˚. Summary. Ever since she saw you, she knew that you were the one.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Fluff.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged up! Tsireya, Ao'nung and his friends are jerks.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 622.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Vrrteps — [demons], Exopack — [lightweight atmosphere filtration system developed from civilian rebreather technology that allows humans to survive on Pandora with a minimum amount of equipment.], and Tawtute — [sky person/people].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. Anon, I hope I did your request justice!! I hope you don't mind that I did it in hcs format. This is my first na'vi x human fic so I'm excited, I have a couple more reqs that have the dynamic, one for Tsu'tey and a few for Neteyam so I hope to get them out soon. Let me know what y'all think of this by either commenting or sending an anonymous ask!!

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

𝜗𝜚 — When Tsireya first saw you when the Sullys' sought uturu in her home, she was intrigued by you, it was the first she saw a tawtute in person. Only she heard of them was that they were vrrteps and how they were bad people but as she looked at you admiring her home with a round thing on your face that she learned later that it’s an exopack that helps you breathe, she couldn’t help the feelings start brewing inside of her, to her you weren’t bad.

𝜗𝜚 — It took some time for Jake to convince her parents to let you stay but the moment she heard them finally give in, she smiled knowing the fact that she’d be the one to teach you the way of the water.

𝜗𝜚 — One thing she absolutely loves is how short you are, you only went up to her chest but she loves that she can tower over you since she was short herself, and basically anyone towered over her so she was glad of the change.

𝜗𝜚 — She loved how eager you were to learn the way of the water, sure it was harder for you but you never gave up, you kept trying.

“Breathe from down here,” Tsireya says softly as she places one hand on your lower abdomen and the other on your chest after gaining permission to do so. “Breathe in,” you do as she says, breathing deeply. “And breathe out,” you exhale as you turn to look at her “[Name], your heartbeat is fast,” she looks into your eyes as your cheeks heat up. “Sorry.” “Try to focus.” you slightly nod and she smiles at how cute you were.

𝜗𝜚 — One thing she learned about you is how fragile you were so she swore to protect you, always carried an extra exopack if the one you were wearing ever crack on the walks you and her took, a thing y’all pick up on doing to get to know each other. She’d protect you from her brother and his friends' bullying, making sure to let their father know of how Ao’nung was acting and always making sure he and his friends apologized to you.

“You know you didn’t have to do that?” you voiced as you looked up at her earning a frown from her. “Do what, protect you?” you silently nod. “[Name], I won’t let people step all over you just because you’re different than them, I love my brother but he should know better.” You leaned more into her touch whispering a small ‘thank you’ and she smiles. “Now come on we have a date?... with an ilu.” you let out a chuckle as she leads you to the ocean.

𝜗𝜚 — Of course, Ronal was not happy with you dating her daughter, all the Metkayinan women and she chose a tawtute for a girlfriend, she would never understand it but as she watches the two of you more, she sees what Tsireya sees in you and slowly accepts you in her family.

𝜗𝜚 — Tonowari was more accepting of you cause he knew you had a strong heart and you didn’t look like you could hurt his daughter, hell you couldn’t hurt a bug. A smile would form on his face whenever he saw you two talking to each other with huge smiles on your faces, as long as Tsireya was happy, he was happy with your relationship.

𝜗𝜚 — Tsireya knew you were the right one for her and why not seal the deal, sure you can’t mate like na’vis’ can but the two of you bonded in a different way, something so passionate that the two of you would treasure for the rest of your lives together.

🔖 @zanabelle99, @moonchildxoxx, @jakescumdump, @btsiguess-kpop, @sweetdayme4427, @ronalsskimwing, @shit-i-say-shit-i-think, @23victoria, @tsireqas, @kittenw, @violilaqrs, @valentinqee, @kiriswifejayden, @neteyamyawne, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @ducks118, @lilmackiee, @kasai-https, and @neo-novaa.

#ಣ : sylaphone #tsireya x y/n #tsireya x reader #tsireya x fem!reader #tsireya x human reader #tsireya headcanons #tsireya x you #tsireya x human!reader #tsireya fluff #tsireya fanfiction #tsireya atwow #atwow x you #atwow x reader #atwow x y/n #atwow headcanons #atwow tsireya

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theresattrpgforthat · 9 months

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Hello! I’ve been following you for a bit now, and all of your recommendations have been super cool and interesting! If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any recommendations for really long indie ttrpgs? One that could match the length of dnd or CoD books, I mean. The specifics don’t matter as much, I just really like sinking my teeth into long game books like that.

THEME: Long Indie Games

Hello friend! Fear not, I have a multitude of long indie games to recommend for you!

Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, by Jenna Moran.

Length: 578 pages.

The Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG is the diceless RPG from Jenna Katerin Moran, author of the well-regarded Nobilis and an important contributor to Eos’ Weapons of the Gods and White Wolf’s Exalted RPG.

Chuubo’s is a special beast. I personally don’t know how one actually plays this game, but the book itself is fascinating to read. It has recognizable parts such as character skills, Health Levels, and XP, but I think I’d want to sit down with a physical copy to be able to properly read it and get a handle on how you play through a story. If you enjoy a challenge, or even just something enchanting and evocative, I’d recommend Chuubo’s.

Part-Time Gods, by Third Eye Games.

Length: 318 pages.

The gods of today are shadows of what the old gods possessed. Their power has been heavily diminished, and many choose to live a regular, mortal life, revealing themselves as gods only when absolutely necessary. The reason for this is twofold. First, fate doesn’t like it when the gods share their secrets with a mortal. Unless they are the god’s worshipper, terrible events and horrific accidents have a way of happening to the people closest to the god. Secondly, divine works attract creatures and monsters called Outsiders, created by the Source (after its capture) to destroy any god they encounter.

This is a game that’s on my TBR shelf - and it might stay there for a while, because this is another pretty lengthy book. I am very grateful for the index at the back of this book, because I think this would be pretty difficult to navigate. Part-Time Gods is set in the modern-day, but the premise behind your god-hood is very unique, so one of the first chapters is dedicated to telling you what exactly it means to be a part-time god, part-time taxpayer. The book also contains small pieces of prose set in the world, meant to give you a flavour of the genre and tone intended by the designer. I’m really interested in the concepts expressed in this game, and I hope I have enough brain space to read it in the future!

We Are All Mad Here, by Shanna Germain.

Length: 226 pages.

Jack climbing the beanstalk. The little mermaid finding her voice. Alice struggling with the madness of a place unruled by the laws of reality. The queen. The child. The woodsman. The knight. When you think about fairy tales, who do you become? Where does your imagination take you?

We Are All Mad Here is a tabletop game about fairytales and mental health, providing you with new options for the Cypher System while also creating a setting about visitors to a magical land called the Heartwood. In the fiction, only those who have had some kind of struggle that affects their mental health are able to travel to this magical land. Germain intends this to be a way to tell a narrative about mental health using allegory and metaphor. The Cypher system itself is pretty complex, and you probably won’t be able to play a game of We Are All Mad Here without the core rulebook, so it might be worth it to take a gander at the Cypher System Rulebook while you’re at it.

Coyote & Crow, by Connor Alexander.

Length: 484 pages.

More than 700 years ago, a massive disaster changed the course of history. The world was plunged into centuries of darkness, but the event also introduced the Adanadi — the Gift — a strange mark that appeared on all life. This mark would have an enduring impact on humanity. Centuries later, the Earth is healing. New, advanced nations have risen. Ancient legends stir.

Coyote & Crow is a pretty extensive and unique game, using pools of d12s pulled from your stats, as well as narrative beats such as character motivation, Gifts and Burdens to help give your character a personality. Because it introduces an alternate history and a drastically different future, the core book as a decent amount of lore to acquaint you with the city of Cahokia and the world that surrounds it.

This game has quite a bit of support out there, with adventures such as Stolen Heart, Laughter Lost & Found, and The Case of the Great Underwater Panther.

Impulse Drive, by Adrian Thoen.

Length: 242 pages.

Play a crew of misfits and scoundrels living a life of danger and adventure as they explore space and try to make their ship a home in a technicolor sea of stars. Fight dangerous organizations, investigate unnerving mysteries, and find trouble in a game that rewards you when your characters face their shortcomings. Grow your characters and ship with new gear and abilities as you discover and create the universe together, as a group.

For a PbtA game, Impulse Drive feels pretty substantial. It provides a quick primer on Powered by the Apocalypse games, and includes advice for the players as well as the GM. This might be because the game includes a lot of details about gear and vehicles, as this is a space game that cares what your party has on hand and what their ship can do. There’s also advice on changing the game, extra moves, and a roll table for mutations! If you’re looking to see how to play out a space adventure in a more narrative-focused system, you might want to check out this game!

The Shrike, by Alice the Candle.

Length: 162 pages.

The Shrike is a game about fantastical voyages aboard a skyship. It's inspired by Avery Alder's The Quiet Year, John Harper's Lady Blackbird, Italo Calvino, Ursula K. Le Guin, and utopian and dystopian fiction. It features four complete adventures (two multiplayer, two for solo play).

This indie game is on the short side of this list, but it’s definitely long by indie standards. The author has provided 4 different adventures that you can read through, which will likely spark your imagination along the way. Interestingly, the voyages are placed in the first half of the book, while the information about Solo, Co-operative. and Guided Play embody the second half of the book. I’m not sure how I feel about this layout choice, but if you’re mostly looking for a book that you can read, flipping through the voyages might be more interesting to you than the rules of play.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Lancer, by Massif Press. 431 pages.

The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs. 364 pages.

Exceptionals, by Sahoni. 253 pages.

Gubat Banwa, by makpatatag. 399 pages.

Monster Care Squad, by Sandy Pug Games. 176 pages.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #asks #game recommendations #long games

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

Note

Hey!! I'm a die hard fan of your intoxicating fear series! Will you be continuing it? (Also great work on the febwhump series :))

Intoxicating Fear (Xii)

Part one here || masterpost || continued from here

Hello!! Yes!! Thank you for the ask! Intoxicating fear is always being worked on in the background, it is one of my on-going series!!

*~*~*~*~*

Kit sat at his kitchen table. His apartment was quiet. Distantly he checked his phone to see two hours had passed, and he was still sitting at his table, staring at his door.

This had to be a joke.

A dream.

Kit clicked his fingers and felt electricity running through his index finger and thumb. He stared at the lightning, so familiar, so achingly his.

No compulsion muting it in his brain. No Ambrose, just Kit. Something wet hit his cheek and Kit flinched, eyes darting back to the door, around the room. Searching for Him.

Kit didn’t— he never cried before him. Never. He wasn’t weak, he was… he was…

He was…

Kit stood so suddenly the chair fell backwards, his chest tightening around his ribs. He whirled at the crash, stumbling back against the table and flinching again. He couldn’t breathe. His entire arm cackled into a glove of electricity sparking off of it, spitting tiny bolts at him but he still couldn’t— breathe!

Breathe! Just breathe!

Kit stuttered out laboured breaths, gasping and gasping and not getting any oxygen and he clutched his chest, just above his heart, his ears rushing as if he were beside a waterfall but he wasn’t.

The air was getting thinner. It seemed like every exhale had diminished returns on inhales and his lungs couldn’t function properly enough for him to catch up and bring them to balance.

He felt something bubbling under the surface and he gasped, curling in on himself as it built and built and gathered and grew and Kit couldn’t breathe he needed to— Kit felt a rush of pain arch from his brain to his chest and a bolt of electricity erupted from Kit’s chest and sent him flying backwards. His back thumped against the wood, stealing the air from his lungs and then he was sliding down the door until his arse hit the floor.

He stayed there for a minute, blinking, finally able to take a breath. Then he dragged his knees up to his chest, resting his crossed arms on them and dipped his head and he started to cry. The sobs wracked through his entire body, from his toes to his head. His muscles seemed to tighten and release with every wheeze of breath stuttered out through trembling lips. Streams of snot and tears pooled on the floor beneath him but he couldn’t find it in him to notice or care.

After a while he raised his head and bit his arm to stop himself from screaming out every little injustice Ambrose had inflicted upon him. To him. At him.

Even now, even this… pathetic wallowing was only happening because Ambrose allowed it. He needed to stop crying and get up and do something!

He could run away. As soon as the thought entered his brain it started to melt away until the urge was gone and he was back on the floor fighting with himself.

He had to tell Superhero, warn the Heroes about Ambrose, about what he could do and they could— the thought dissolved in his mind, like sugar in water, and Kit was left sitting on the floor.

He could alter the rhythms of his nervous system and—

Kit stood suddenly, furious. His mind recalling the last conversation he had with Ambrose vividly.

Kit stared as Ambrose retracted his hand and walked towards the table. He tilted his head at the Villain. “What brought all this about?”

“Hmm?” He asked, even though Kit knew he heard him just fine.

“Why the change of heart?”

Ambrose let out a soft sigh as he plucked Kit’s phone from the table and turned back to face him. “I believe I already made my intentions clear, Kit.”

“Clearly you didn’t if I’m asking for clarification.”

Ambrose’s left eye twitched. Imperceptible, and yet Kit noticed. He’s noticed a lot of hidden things about the Villain despite his best efforts of ignoring him.

“Do you want a long winded explanation followed by a beating or can I just leave you here with a couple of commands and be on my way?” Ambrose asked with a polite smile. Kit’s eyes widened. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward unconsciously at the thought that Ambrose was going to give him his freedom — today?!

Ambrose chuckled, nodding his head at the chair that Ambrose previously sat in. Kit was walking forwards before he even thought anything more about it, eager. Too eager, but Ambrose knew he was eager so what would he really be hiding?

“Good lad,” said Ambrose with a happy hum undercutting his words. Kit stared up at Ambrose, waiting for him to turn and face him even though Kit knew that Ambrose didn’t have to look at Kit to use his powers (or did he?) but he waited patiently anyways. Then his patience abandoned him and Kit found himself reaching out to tug at Ambrose’s shirt like a child who was lost and trying to find their parents.

Kit retracted his hand and sat back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest with a soft tch. “Do you wanna get out of here, or what?”

Ambrose finally turned to face Kit with an amused smile on his face. “I do, so be good for me.”

Ambrose stared down into Kit’s eyes, his lips that unnatural shade of red as he spoke his commands without stuttering or second-guessing once. Kit kind of hated him for it.

You can’t run away. You can’t disappear. You can’t kill yourself. You can’t move apartment. You can’t warn your Hero friends about me.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed at the last one, but Ambrose just smiled knowingly. “Oh come on. We both know you would try and worm your way out of this if you had other Heroes support. Besides, you don’t want anyone else to get hurt do you?”

Kit didn’t answer him.

“Good. Now,” Ambrose hummed, grabbing the side of Kit’s head resting his thumb just under Kit’s cheek and angling his head up. Kit’s hand shot to Ambrose’s wrist on instinct, not knowing what Ambrose was about to do. “Relax, Mallory. This is just to ensure you comply with the terms of our deal.”

Kit wanted to properly fight against him now. Kit was hoping he would be able to find a loophole in the agreement given time. That he would somehow be able to leverage it against Ambrose and turn it on its head but he can’t do that if Ambrose forces him to obey.

“Isn’t the whole arrangement supposed to be about obedience?” Kit tried. Ambrose’s dark eyes stared down at him impassively.

“What?”

“Our deal,” said Kit again, licking his lips trying to get some moisture back into them. “We shook on it. Don’t you trust that I’ll obey because I don’t want someone else to get hurt?”

Oh Kit, Kit flinched when he heard Ambrose’s voice in his head. It felt unnatural. Wrong. The fucker’s eyes practically sparkling down at him. That really is a valiant effort on your part, but we both know why you’re really hesitant.

Kit didn’t even have time to pull away before Ambrose was speaking.

“You will obey the terms of our—” Kit only managed to register the words before he was turning his head away and pushing Ambrose’s hand off him. Ambrose just tightened his grip and tilted Kit’s head back to look into Ambrose’s black hole like eyes. “Agreement. Our deal. No take backs, no work arounds, no loopholes.”

Kit froze as he felt the commands pierce his brain like ice shards, sending a shiver down his spine and working through every muscle in his body, binding Kit to their deal.

Ambrose let go of Kit then and smiled down at him. Kit sat in the chair, not wanting to even look at the villain beside him. It all felt too real. Too final. He felt disgusted with himself for even allowing this to be his only recourse to a semi-normal life.

Ambrose set Kit’s phone down on the table. Kit stared at it numbly. “Well, that’s that then, Mallory. I’ll be off. I put my number in your phone, so I can contact you if I need to but otherwise enjoy your freedom.”

Kit stared at the table and didn’t glance up or react in anyway. Ambrose grabbed his overcoat and put it on, then walked to Kit’s front door and opened it.

Kit’s heart ached as he remembered the time he had tried to escape. How perfect it would have been if he had just been fast enough.

Ambrose stepped outside the door and Kit jumped to his feet. “Wait!”

Ambrose glanced over his shoulder at Kit, a smile on his too red lips. “Don’t tell me you miss me already,” he said, voice coy because he knew, didn’t he? He fucking knew the compulsion was still there for Kit and didn’t think of lifting it.

Kit didn’t dignify his teasing with a response and instead walked towards the door, towards Ambrose who stepped back out of his way and leaned against the railing opposite the door.

Kit had two feet out the door before a searing pain brought him to his knees gasping out in a silent scream. Above him he could barely make out Ambrose’s too bright eyes and knowing smile. Then the pain vanished as suddenly as it had begun. Kit threw himself forward onto his hands and knees and sucked in lungfuls of air.

“You fucking… dick,” Kit wheezed.

Ambrose shrugged above him. “I couldn’t help myself, how funny would it have been if for the first time I give you your freedom you can’t leave the house.”

Kit glared up at him, pressing a hand against the door frame to support him as he got to his feet. “That’s not our deal,” Kit hissed.

Ambrose rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Kit. It wasn’t like I was going to leave it on you. I just thought if you forgot maybe I did too.”

“I don’t want this compulsion in my head to obey a deal that you yourself won’t stand by!” Kit spat, before he could think he had his hands curled into Ambrose’s overcoat pressing him against the railing further. “I want a failsafe.”

Ambrose tilted his head, smile gone from his face as he thought it over.

“A fail safe?”

“Yeah,” Kit pressed. “If you break the deal, then the compulsion fades.”

Ambrose didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he pursed his lips and nodded putting his hands up. “Okay. Fair is fair. Kit, if I break our deal then you can too.”

Kit felt the command run through his body only this time he didn’t shiver. Kit stepped back and let Ambrose go.

“Satisfied?”

Kit didn’t reply. Instead he walked back into his apartment and slammed the door in the telepath’s face.

“Dick.”

Kit's mind reeled as the memory hit him harder than an anvil dropping on his head. To be fair that was most of his experiences with Ambrose anyways, but he had to do something! There had to be a way to somehow tiptoe 'round the terms of their agreement.

No, Kit thought mutinously. He couldn’t do anything about it until Ambrose broke the deal first. He could however leave his house and enjoy some fresh air for the first time in— weeks?! Months?! He didn’t know. He couldn’t remember the last time he was free of Ambrose. He needed to put runners on and get out and just go out. Just run.

He could sort everything out after he was finished. Everything else could wait. He had to talk to Superhero, and catch up on all the life that he missed while Ambrose was puppeting him in his head.

He just wanted a few hours that were Ambrose free and just— just Kit’s.

He grabbed his keys after yanking on his runners and for the first time, in a long time, Kit left his apartment. He took in a breath of fresh air, feeling the slight static in the air and the rumbling of power lines below the surface.

He felt good.

He didn’t realise his eyes were their electric blue, but even if you told him he wouldn’t have cared.

Ambrose stood across the way, watching as Kit took off running down the street, sparks kicking off his heels every time they connected with the path. They weren’t all Kit’s blue either, some, a very little amount were the same untamed red that Ambrose had only witnessed once before.

Kit turned the corner out of sight and Ambrose left him to it. He had work to do.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper r @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland

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bouncybongfairy · 9 months

Text

Bodega Dreams

Miles Morales x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Miles Morales from Earth 42 are in a serious relationship. You have a feeling that Miles may keep something from you. Your friends reassure you that you're over thinking. Although reserved and quiet, Miles isn't capable of anything criminal. You conclude that you're projecting your anxiety onto the relationship because of the book you're reading in class: Bodega Dreams. The truth will come out, whether it being thoughtfully or forcefully is soon to be revealed.

Work Count: 3k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part 2 Is Now Posted! <3

It was a typical morning. You woke up and sat up in bed and pulled your phone off the charger and checked your emails. Other than junk mail and a few reminder emails from canvas, there wasn't much to look at. You pulled your hair into a bun before leaning over the bed to give Miles a few pecks on the cheek. Like always, he didn't even flinch. As you kissed him, you could taste the metallic on your lips. Pulling back gently, you saw a healing gash above his eyebrow and a hint of a green bruise under his eye. Your brow furrowed and a couple of questions popped into your mind that you quickly pushed to the side. Even if you were curious about where and when that happened, it wasn't like you were going to wake him up out of dead sleep to ask him. Not to mention how busy your day was going to be.

You had an English final, then had to go to work directly from school; you work at the daycare of a Hot Yoga studio. Most of the moms were young and entitled. They considered the crumpled-up 20s at the bottom of their purses to be pocket change. You couldn't complain about them too much though because those 20s became your tips more often than not. You grabbed the dirty laundry around their room and walked it over to the washer; after starting a loud, you make your way into the kitchen to start breakfast. You grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge and started cracking them into a glass bowl. Hearing bare feet sliding against the wood floors, you greet the only person it could have been.

"Good morning, babe, hungry?" you asked while stirring the scrambled eggs.

"Why are you up so early?" he mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping his long arms around your waist.

"Really busy day, school and work right after." you said, turning the burner off. He groaned playfully at the thought of you being gone all day. You set the pan on the back burner and turned around to face him. For a second you thought about asking him about the wound above his eye. You ignored this and grabbed his braids, pulling them to sit on his shoulders.

"Are you coming to school with me today?" you asked looking up at him, knowing there was a considerable chance that the answer would be no.

"My teachers are fine with it as long as I turn my work in on time. As long as I maintain my grades, I feel like perfect attendance is a nonfactor." he said, tucking a curl behind your ear.

"I know, I'm not saying you need to be going more because you're not doing well; not at all, you have a better grade in history than me right now," you laughed before continuing, "Now that I work and everything with school.. I don't know; there are sometimes when I'm eating lunch I just wish we could spend that time together. Especially when I get home at 10 pm and you're gone for work." you said taking a cooled-down piece of egg and walking over to your hamster enclosure.

"Alright I get it, I'll come with you today but I have to leave after lunch. I told Uncle Aaron I would go down to the warehouse and help him fix the computer system," he said, walking over to you and pulling you into a reassuring hug. You rubbed your hands down his and noticed more bruising on his forearms.

"What are these from?" you asked, rubbing your index finger over them.

"Carrying heavy loads of boxes from the shipment trucks into the warehouse." he said kissing the top of your head before going back into the kitchen. After you gave Peaches a bit of egg you walked over to the table where Miles had made a plate for you.

"Have you done the reading for Bodega Dreams? My English final today is going to be a question-and-response essay. It isn't open book but we can bring a sheet of notes so I'm pretty sure I'm gonna ace it." You said this made Miles laugh.

"You read that book cover to cover, even if you didn't have notes I think you'd still nail it." he said, starting to eat his eggs. You smile and pour yourself a cup of coffee.

School went by fast and not in a good way where the day feels easy. More like so many assignments and tests that you feel like your eyes could fall out of your head. Luckily for you, the only class you had left was English. You studied for so long that you weren't really nervous anymore. When you walked in, the big red marker on the whiteboard was the first thing you noticed. It read: Was Willie Bodega morally wrong for selling drugs even though he was using the money to support his community? You took your seat and pulled out your laptop and waited for further instructions.

Miles didn't end up going to school. Uncle Aaron called him in early because the computer systems went from slow to usable. Even though you were disappointed you understood, he didn't want to lose business. He promised to be home for dinner though, which was rare these days.

"Alright, good morning. I know I've been preparing you guys for a question-and-response essay. However, today is the last day before Thanksgiving break and I want to grade all your papers over the weekend about the same way you want to write a 6 paragraph essay; not at all. So we will be having a class discussion." The class all started the chatter in excitement, moving around to sit next to their friends. You were a little disappointed that you studied and prepared for an essay but was happy that you didn't have to stress anymore. You pulled out a pen and paper and prepared for the discussion.

"So.. question is on the board. Was Willie Bodega morally wrong for selling drugs even though he was using the money to support his community?" she read aloud, waiting for a student to raise their hand.

"Well yeah, even if he was using the money to support people and the community it is still wrong to sell to people in the community. What if he sold to the people who are recovering, addicts who moved to the neighborhood to escape drugs? What about the young men of his community? Does he put a risk to disburse those drugs? Or the children of the people who buy from him?" The entire class whipped their heads around to see who was speaking. Just as fast as they looked, they looked away as someone contradicted that statement,

"I don't know about that, what about the families who aren't buying drugs? Families that could have just immigrated there are trying to get their footing; Bodega helps them with everything from shoes to housing and those people aren't doing any drugs. They're just trying to make an honest living. Bodega went to school, and legally owns a lot of the community AND doesn't jack up the rent to keep low-income families out of the area."

"Yeah, Bodega tried to go to city hall and do it the right way. They ignored and mocked him, he has every right to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's hurting anyone other than the people buying the drugs. I know two wrongs don't make a right but if those people want drugs they go seek them out, even if it's not from Bodega."

"I think it's weird that nobody is asking if the government is morally wrong. Willie tried to do it the right way, by filling out the proper paperwork and trying to arrange meetings to help the people of the community; they snubbed him and his pleads. That was city hall's way of saying: help yourself because we have better things to do. So.. that's what he did. He used his resources and not only helped himself but also helped his community. Yes, selling drugs is illegal, we all know that so we try to condemn Willie for breaking such a regulated law. But if he was some famous rapper you all would be like: 'he did what he needed to do to pull his family out of poverty' or 'Oh my god how inspiring that he went from selling drugs to records' I can guarantee you so many of the lawmakers that ignored him have done plenty of dirt to get where they are today. So let's not come down so hard on Willie for something we praised celebrities for doing on the daily." You said looking directly at the girl who five minutes before said 'Poverty isn't an excuse to sell drugs'. You hoped that your stare would burn her already fried hair off.

"Very well said Y|N, very mindful to be asking the same questions about the people who forced Bodega's hand on alternative ways of helping his community. I think we've just about-" Mrs.Lawrence was interrupted by the bell ringing,

"We'll finish this conversation on Monday, everyone has a good weekend, and be kind!" She said, dismissing the class. You were extremely relieved that this was the final class of the day.

As you walked to the subway from school, you were happy that the day was almost over. Now all you had to worry about was work and of course Miles. You could tell that something was off with him. He was never aggressive with you but you could notice when there was something different in their routine. Ever since Miles' dad died, he started working full time with Uncle Aaron, he changed. You just summed it up to the stress of being the breadwinner of the family. You did work and bought groceries or household necessities like toilet paper, cleaning supplies etc. Miles however was paying most of the rent. He didn't need to but you think it helps him mourn the loss of his father. As if trying to live up to his father and the man he was is replacing some of the dull sadness with him being gone.

You were grateful that your relationship had only grown stronger since his dad passed. Most relationships you've seen where one spouse is dealing with a loss became combative and bitter. It was scary for you to see him break down the way he did but it was so rewarding to be the one who built him back up. Even though you've only been dating for three and a half years, it felt like you lived a lifetime together. You felt so comfortable and protected with him, it almost scared you how much you relied on him as a sense of security. It scared you thinking about how you felt without him, and maybe that was because they were trauma bonded.

When Miles and you first met it was the beginning of 7th grade. You were still living with your father who was an alcoholic. He drank to suppress the memories of your late mother. This almost made you understand his alcoholism. When you thought of Miles passing, all you could think about was how well alcohol must drown the pain out. Even if it was for a second or two. Miles lived next door, you always walked to the bus stop together. He would give you a sympathetic look when your dad would scream at you from the door. It wasn't until the night your father got arrested that things really changed.

Your father was just going room to room raging. Incoherent yelling that was so slurred you couldn't tell if he was even mentally there. Two empty Everclear bottles sat on the coffee table across from the couch. He was so intoxicated he thought you were your mother. Things were really starting to escalate, pushing you into the wall or pressing his body so that you were trapped between him and the wall. He grabbed the empty bottle and smashed it against the wall above you. A piece of shard flies at your cheek and cuts you. That was when Miles' dad busted in. He didn't arrest him immediately, he just escorted you out safely and helped you file a police report. You'd been living with Miles and his family ever since.

After you stopped torturing yourself with the memories and anxiety about Miles, you realized you were just one stop away from your work. You looked around to make sure you didn't leave anything on the seats around you before exiting and walking the short 10 minutes to the studio. Once you arrived you immediately went back to the daycare. Before you could even set your stuff down, the morning shift handed you an infant before updating you on the day. Apparently it was quite the day, because the daycare was a mess. Toys everywhere, kids running every which way, snacks on the ground ect. You took a big sigh and started picking up toys and hushing children, gathering them to watch a movie. An hour later your other coworker Miley came in and sat down next to you.

"You okay girl?" Miley asked, taking the baby from your arms.

"Yeah I'm just tired, I've been feeling a lot of stress lately," you said.

"I feel you, Michael and I have been bickering lately too." she said referring to her boyfriend.

"It's not that we're arguing more or anything, I just have a feeling that there is something going on that he isn't telling me," you said.

"Like he's cheating?" Miley whispered.

"No, I don't think it's romantic or someone else. It's more like there is something that is weighing on his mind. He's been acting the way he normally does right before he rants to me about something bothering him," you paused and wiped a few tears out of your eyes, "I don't know, I'm just worried about him and it's causing me turmoil I guess. I feel like I can't say anything because there really is no specific reason as to why I'm worried. It frustrates me because it's just a gut feeling so I don't want him to think I'm crazy or insecure. Sorry I don't know why i'm crying," you said trying to wipe away your tears without messing up your makeup.

"Are you okay?" One of the little girls came up to you, setting her little hand on your knee.

"Yes honey, I'm okay. That was very kind of you to ask," you said laughing after sending her off.

"I'm not trying to minimize your suspicions or feelings but, do you think you might be pregnant? Maybe that's why you're having so much anxiety about Miles?" She asked, this made you truly speechless for a minute. You always had irregular periods so it wasn't abnormal to miss your cycle.

"I hope not," you said standing up and picking up empty paper cups that they used to give the kids juice.

"Would it be so bad? You're about to graduate highschool and you want to become an elementary school teacher. Miles is making good money," Miley said helping you clean up the tables.

"Let's just move on. I don't even want to think about any of that," you said finishing up the rest of the shift.

It was 9:30 and you walked to the store that was across the street picking up some stuff for dinner. Miles' mom was working a double and would be at the hospital overnight. Which meant you were in charge of dinner. You stopped at your local deli and picked up some sandwiches with some other snacks. When walking down the pharmacy aisle the pregnancy test was staring at you like a cheetah catching its prey; like it was shaming you. You picked one up out of curiosity, worse case scenario it comes out positive. Thinking about that was making you feel nauseous, such a stressful situation. It wasn't that you didn't want to be a mother but now just wasn't a good time for you or Miles. You also felt slightly insecure about your pregnancy scare. In the book Bodega Dreams Chino's girlfriend Blanca was also with child. It made you feel like you were projecting this book on to your relationship with Miles.

After taking an Uber home from the deli, you started digging through your purse to find your keys. Once you finally found them and let yourself inside, you began to put away some of the groceries. Your phone dinged from your purse, you drugged herself to the couch to check the notification. It was a message from Miles that read: on a late delivery, an hour or two late tops. After reading the message you couldn't help but break down a few tears running down your cheeks. You weren't mad or anything, it wasn't like he could control if he needed to work over time. You just were looking forward to seeing him after such a long and hectic day. You just needed that reassurance. You got over it quickly and texted him back that you loved him and not to sorry.

To take your mind off things you hopped in the shower. The hot water did help relax you, like all the muscles in your body loosened all at once. You sat in the sweltering steam until you felt at risk for passing out. You walked back to the room and laid on the bed in your towel for a while. It wasn't until you laid down that your exhaustion became apparent. You eventually sat up to avoid falling asleep before getting a couple more things done. You didn't want to go to bed with wet hair and you needed to eat, the only thing you ate all day was breakfast. You changed into some sweat pants and a tank top and began blow drying your hair. Sitting up and doing something was taking your mind away from how tired you were. Once you are done, you go to Peaches' enclosure to see if he is awake. You gently move some bedding around until you see the Syrian hamster pop his head out.

You laugh and grab him, taking him back to the bedroom. While you are in the living room you grab your purse. After getting back on to your bed, you rummage through your bag and pull out the pregnancy test. You stared at it for a while, like it was a spider that you were figuring out how to kill. Somehow the anxiety of not knowing was more comforting than having the actual answer. You grab the plastic hamster ball, placing Peaches inside and letting him roam around the room. You walk into the bathroom and rip open the box, unpackaging the test. You quickly follow the directions before exiting the bathroom.

Even if it was embarrassing you really did hope that this was just a pregnancy scare. That you were so stressed and busy that you were projecting your life onto the book you've been analyzing, studying and breathing for the past 3 months. You were on the bed, taking a video of Peaches rolling around the room. You heard a bang so loud it made the bed feel like it was shaking. Your video ended abruptly, you quickly grabbed your hamster who was equally as scared. He tried scurrying away so fast that his nails weren't giving him any traction, giving the illusion that he was running in place. You stand up and open the door without making a sound. You could immediately hear people talking, well more arguing than conversating. You slowly made your way down the hallway, you were worried that whoever was there would be able to hear your heartbeat. It was the only thing you could hear at this point.

Once you round the corner, you were shocked by what you saw. Miles tied to a punching bag, Uncle Aaron standing there with his arms crossed. At first you thought Aaron was hurting Miles, until you saw.. him. Your Miles, covered head to toe in The Prowlers gear. The only reason you recognized it was from how many news articles and videos you had looked over. You gasped so loudly that it surprised yourself. All three men in the room whipped their heads to face you. Miles' face immediately went from practically snarling to what you considered normal. I shook you to the core, the facial expression he had when he turned around; before he noticed it was you. He starts to walk over to you but your flight instincts kick in and you bolt back to the bedroom. As you ran down the hall, you could hear the metal pieces of his gear dropping to the ground. Once he got to the room, he was only wearing his street clothes.

"What the actual fuck Miles," you said running your fingers through your hair.

"I know, I know. I really didn't mean for you to find out this way," he said, approaching you cautiously.

"Do you really think that I'm more mad about how I found out than the fact that you're the fucking Prowler? What the fuck," you said begining to cry.

"i'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is hurting you and that I kept it from you. That- I was wrong for that but, I can't apologize for who I am," he said resting his hand on your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. For a second, you wish you could stay in this moment; the feeling of him comforting you after everything that happened today. Once you processed what he said, you left that moment in the past.

"Oh so this is who you are. You're nothing more than The prowler? You're not Miles anymore?" you asked rhetorically, taking his hand off your face.

"I know who I am. I'm the type of person who won't apologize for helping the people I love. I help people who are deemed unworthy of support. I won't apologize for that.

"Are you gonna apologize for the people you're hurting in the process?" you asked as fat tears rolled down your face.

"I'm sorry that I kept this from you. I'm admitting that I was wrong, and I understand that this is alot to take in. I have to handle this though, please just stay in the room and I'll be back in 30 minutes. We can sit down and talk about all this. Please?" he asked, pulling you closer to him. You nodded your head and wiped away your tears. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before exiting the room.

You sat on the bed, trying to take in everything that was happening. You had just seen what appeared to be a perfect copy of your boyfriend. With everything going on, you truly had to talk yourself out of the possibility that you truly may be delusional and not in the hot girl kinda way. Tears were unstoppable at this point, flowing so fast that the collar of your shirt was completely soaked. The Prowler was responsible for so many manslaughters due to careless fighting. The Prowler was feared by many, and was showcased on the news more than the Kardashians on TMZ. You had even told Miles that you were scared of being caught in the crossfire of chaos caused by this person. What scared you the most was how comfortable Miles had gotten in his lie. What terried you more than that was you had fallen for it so easy. Thinking that a villian that you so deeply feared was the same person who kissed you goodnight made you feel nauseous. You run to the bathroom.

You vomit into the toilet, the anxiety you were having was becoming unbearable. You sat hanging over the toilet until Peaches started bumping into your leg in his ball. You redirect him and stand up, rinsing your mouth with water. Without thinking you pick up the test you were holding earlier, dropping it and throwing up more when you see the bold + sign staring back at you.

In memory of the real Peaches; May his cutie patuti soul rest in peace

#miles morales #fanfic writing #short fanfic #fluff fanfiction #miles morales 42 #miles morales x reader #miles morales prowler #across the spiderverse #spiderman #miles morales 42 x reader #miles 42 #bodega dreams #one shot #prowler x reader

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thatsdemko · 9 months

Text

payback - p.o’ward

masterlist

pairing: pato o’ward x fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + teasing + mentions of alcohol

a/n: this was supposed to go a totally different way but here we are!(this was supposed to be a whole other different fic)

it wasn’t boring to be in an exclusive resort. free alcohol and dinner cooked for you are two things you can’t turn down. however, being with all of your boyfriends friends? that was the kicker. because while you enjoyed their presence, you expected this vacation to be the two of you, not you and plus three.

so there you lay in a lounge chair watching your boyfriend and his friends toss around a football while you suck down a frozen pina colada with heat flushed across your cheeks in anger.

he doesn’t seem to notice— and be to fair he really hasn’t been paying too much attention to you, and while you shouldn’t be mad, it’s his vacation time off, you’re rather a bit frustrated that you’ve become a thought in the back of his mind.

your boozed infected mind thinks of a perfect idea that outta teach him a lesson to not put you in the backseat.

—

“you’re wearing that?” he picks his head up from his phone, the tight champagne colored dress just barely falls below your ass, the top cut so low he’s sure the waiter and his friends will have a perfect view of your tits. a view he doesn’t mind, but he’s not too happy others get to see.

“why not?” you bat your eyelashes, tiny frown on your lips to toy with his emotions. there was no changing, even if he begged you to, there was a lesson to be learned with pato.

he shakes his head going back to his phone, “if you want to wear it that’s fine.” his tone says awfully different than the words coming out of his mouth.

“but?” you motion for him to get it out of his system— to reveal the little thing that irked him enough to make a comment—he just shakes his head and zips his lips for the rest of the time you’re getting ready.

“are you ready to go?” you ask finally turning around from the vanity to see he’s changed into a linen white shirt and a pair of shorts already cozied up in bed once again.

“you’re really not changing?” he asks, finally picking his head up from his phone with a wobbly smile. it’s not that he didn’t like what you were wearing— no he loved it. however, he wasn’t too happy about knowing all of his friends would get the view of you that only he gets.

“why? should I?” you flatten out your dress with your hands not even noticing he’d gotten up from the bed and made his way over to you, “it’s just revealing, and I want all that,” he gestures to your chest area with his index finger, “to myself.” he

“well you should’ve thought of that earlier instead of leaving me in the dust, now this is your payback.”

—

his eyes don’t leave your chest the whole night. he makes it obvious he’s eyeing you from across the table, and his friends pay little to no attention to you just by the glares pato gives them when they do.

“did you have fun?” pato growls. the second you close the door behind you to your room, his physical possessiveness begins to show. his hands roam your body, fingers tugging on the tight material of the dress.

“I was just getting started.” you lightly push him off of your body. moving across the room, you head to the balcony taking in the sun that was beginning to set. bright orange and gold shine into your eyes, you’re blinded by its beauty.

“what else do you have in mind? I think I’ve got my lesson handed to me.” he grumbles taking a seat in the chair on the balcony. you look over your shoulder to see he’s squinting, and removing the belt from around his shorts. the leather lightly taps your ass before it’s discarded into the room.

“and what are you sorry for not doing?” you turn to face him and close the gap between you two. you take the chance to slide into his lap, legs straddling around him, you can feel the hardness practically pulsating underneath you.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, audible for you to hear as he pushes himself upward for you to feel all of him. you let out an unconscious moan, and grind your hips down on him.

“what are you sorry for? say it,” you do it again hearing a whimper escape his lips. he tilts his head back, you only know his eyes are closed based on the thickness of his lashes.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“good,” you smile to yourself removing your body from him. you watch his eyes flicker open in an instant once he felt your warm body was gone, “where are you going?”

“I think I’m going to go hang out with my friends, you don’t mind do you?” you pick up your purse from the bed, he watches you adjust the top of your dress lower. this is what he gets for the horrible treatment.

he swallows the thick saliva forming in his throat knowing he’ll have to jerk off without you, that’s the true form of punishment there.

“I guess payback really is a bitch.”

“it is isn’t it?”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @smoothopz @lovelytsunoda @charli123456789

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yxngbxkkie · 10 months

Text

change of heart (s.c)

first piece of my skz street racing series! i'm extremely nervous, and i really hope you all like it 💓

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

You're cleaning the ceramic cups when his loud voice echoes off of the walls. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you glance in the direction of the front door.

A few other patrons glare at Changbin as he walks up to the counter. It's not every day that he comes here, but most people come here to study, meaning they want the space to be quiet.

"Welcome to The Crescent Café, what can I get for you?" You ask the dark-haired man with no emotion in your voice.

"It's nice to see you too, Y/N," Changbin says while keeping his eyes on the menu. "Can I get a medium iced americano?"

You nod your head, inputting his order into the system. "Is that all?" You follow up, meeting his gaze.

"Can I get your phone number?" He asks with a smirk.

"No. Your total is $5.46," you reject him with no hesitation.

Changbin releases a light hiss before shaking his head. "Come on," he whines, laying his hands on the counter. "What do I gotta do to get a chance with you?"

You purse your lips as the receipt for his order prints. "You'd have to stop being a dick to people around you. You'd have to be more considerate too," you mention while handing him his receipt.

He just nods his head, keeping his mouth shut. Changbin doesn't say anything else as you start to make his coffee. A part of you is surprised that he shut up instantly.

It doesn't take you very long to make his iced americano, handing it to the buff man once you're done. He doesn't stick around after he takes the drink from you.

You feel proud of yourself for knocking him down a peg or two, but you also feel a bit guilty for sounding so… mean. Your gaze moves with his figure as Changbin walks out of the coffee shop.

"You okay?" Your co-worker asks while placing a hand on your shoulder.

You jump at the sound of his voice, placing a hand over your heart. "Jesus, yeah, I'm okay," you mumble, giving him a small smile.

The guy apologizes to you while placing a comforting hand on your arm. "So sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he chuckles, rubbing your forearm.

"It's okay," you giggle, moving to rest against the back counter. "You're just early. Cho said that you weren't coming in until eleven."

"Ah, yeah. I thought I wasn't either, but the event I attended was shorter than anticipated," Ji-ho mentions, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Everything is okay?" You ask him.

His gaze meets yours, and a charming smile graces his lips. "Yeah, everything's fine. Don't worry your pretty little head," he flirts, tapping the pad of his index finger on your nose.

You feel yourself blushing, dropping your gaze to the tile flooring. Ji-ho hooks a finger under your chin, lifting your head up.

"Would you want to go out Friday night?" He asks you, smirking a bit.

"O-Oh," your eyes go wide, and you stutter, "I, uh, yeah, sure."

He smiles widely as a customer walks up to the counter. "Great. Give me your number after our shift, and I'll text you the details and everything," Ji-ho mentions while strolling past you.

You keep your eyes on him as he helps the older woman. Did he really ask me out? You ask yourself, furrowing your brows a bit. You can feel the nerves beginning to catch up to you, and you let him know that you're going to take a quick break.

Once you make it outside the building, you release a deep breath. "I have a date Friday," you whisper before doing a little cheer.

"Are you sure this is appropriate?" You ask your roommate, a laugh escaping your lips.

Hana runs her hands up along your sides before resting her chin on your shoulder. "Girl, yes. You look absolutely fabulous," she hypes you up, patting the top of your head. "Plus, didn't he say to dress nicely?!"

You nod your head, looking yourself over in the mirror. You do look good, you have to agree. "Okay, before the confidence wears off," you chuckle while walking out of your bedroom, heading into the living area to put your shoes on.

"Get some!" She screams, racing into the kitchen.

Another laugh comes from you as you slip your black heels on. Hana comes into the room with two glasses of wine, handing one to you.

"Hana, I'm just about to leave," you tell her, pushing the glass back towards you.

She pushes it into your hands anyway, making you take it. "It's for courage, babe. Drink up," she clicks your glass before downing the alcohol.

You raise the drink to your lips, drinking the red wine steadily. You gulp the liquid down and place the empty glass on the table in front of you. A knock on the door echoes off the walls, signaling that Ji-ho is here.

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'll update you later," you tell her with a grin.

She nods her head and quickly dips back into her bedroom. You take one more deep breath before opening the front door. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him.

"Hi," you greet him, meeting his dark eyes.

"Hey, you look gorgeous," Ji-ho compliments you, leaning forward to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Thank you," you blush, taking the hand he's holding out to you.

The taller man leads you out of your apartment building, making small conversations about each other's day. He stops in front of a sporty looking vehicle and opens the passenger side door.

"This is yours?" You ask him after slipping into the seat. Ji-ho nods his head before closing the door. You lock your seatbelt and rest your hands in your lap.

Ji-ho slips into the driver's seat and starts the vehicle. He revs the engine, the loudness of it startling you slightly. "Ready?" He grins, revving the engine again.

You nod your head once, and Ji-ho shifts his vehicle into gear. You grab a hold of the door as he speeds down the well-lit streets.

The ride lasts about twenty minutes, getting curious about where he's taking you. You notice a bunch of cars sitting in one area, the neon lights on each vehicle lighting up the parking lot.

"What is this?" You ask the man beside you, taking a quick glance towards him. "Where are we?"

"Street race," he tells you before parking the vehicle. Your lips part as Ji-ho gets out, gently shutting his door. He races over to your side and opens the door for you. "Come on. It'll be fun."

Your hands shake a bit as you slowly rise out of the vehicle. "Uh, you know these races are illegal, yeah?" You ask him, starting to feel a little uneasy.

Ji-ho rolls his eyes at your question. "Really? Are you going to be a buzzkill? This group comes here almost every night," he informs you, attempting to drag you towards the crowd of people.

"I don't want to be here," you truthfully tell him, planting your feet into the ground.

"Fine. Find your own way home," Ji-ho snaps before walking away from you.

You're honestly a bit surprised that he just left you alone. You look around yourself, feeling a bit overdressed for this kind of occasion. A slight gasp comes from your lips upon seeing Seo Changbin.

Of course he's here… You think to yourself, having an internal debate with yourself. "Do I really want to ask him to take me home?" You mumble while slowly making your way towards him.

He checks the engine in his vehicle as you walk up to him. The curly-haired man lifts his head, and his eyes widen once he realizes who you are.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Changbin asks you, looking around while resting a hand on your forearm. "How'd you even get here?"

You swallow thickly and jab your thumb in the direction of the crowd. "Uhm, I went out with a guy from work, and he brought me here," you begin to explain, tangling your fingers with one another. "I-I asked him to bring me home, but he just ditched me."

"Who is it?" He asks, straightening his back.

"His name is Ji-ho," you mention with furrowed brows. "It doesn't matter. I was just wondering if… if maybe you could bring me home?"

Changbin's eyes meet yours again, noticing the desperate look in them. "Yeah, sure," he pauses, the corner of his mouth lifting, "but only if you give me your number after."

You scoff, shaking your head at him. "I can't stand you," you laugh loudly, turning to walk away from him.

A hand quickly wraps itself around your wrist, stopping you from walking away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Changbin apologizes while pulling you back towards him. "I have a race in five minutes, but after that, I promise to bring you home."

"You don't expect me to ride with you for it, do you?!" You ask him.

"I mean, you don't have to," he shrugs his shoulders, providing a small smile. "Although, I'd feel more safe if you were with me."

You bite your lip as you glance back at the group of people. They start to disperse, and you assume they're preparing for the race.

"If I scream to get out of your car, you pull over," you start while walking towards the passenger side of his crimson-colored vehicle, "I don't care if you're in first or last place."

Changbin places a hand on his heart after shutting the hood. "I promise to let you out if you scream," he swears, the two of you piling into the vehicle.

You can not believe that you're in Seo Changbin's car during an illegal street race. Hana's never going to believe you when you tell her this.

His car drifts around the tight corner, causing you to suck in some air and squeeze your eyes shut. "H-How does one do this?!" You ask out loud to no one in particular. "You're all crazy."

Changbin places his right hand on your leg before slapping it a couple of times. "Oh, come on. It's fun. We're having fun!" He says while squeezing gently.

You turn your head to glare at him, your knuckles beginning to turn white from how hard you're gripping. "Oh, yeah, I'm having so much fun," you almost growl.

He takes another sharp turn, and you almost bash your head off of the window. "Shit, be careful," Changbin's demeanor changes from amusement to concern. "You gotta pay attention, baby."

"Don't call me baby," you grumble, keeping your eyes on the road.

"You're cute when you're mad," he laughs while shifting his vehicle into another gear, the speed of it increasing.

You cross your arms over your chest for a few seconds. "Is that why you keep trying to get my number?" You ask him with a raised brow.

"I mean, it's part of the reason. The other reason is that you're so cute," he answers your question with his signature smirk.

Your hand grips his wrist that sits on the shifter, your eyes glancing towards the man. Changbin crosses the finish line in first place, and you release a deep breath as he starts to slow down.

As soon as he parks the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt before opening the passenger door. You tumble out of the vehicle, looking back to see others cross the finish line.

"Do you still want me to take you home?" Changbin asks you, leaning forward a bit to look at you from the driver's seat.

"Will you drive normally?" You almost plead to him, trying to get your heart rate down.

He smiles at you softly, nodding his head. "I promise," he places a hand on his chest.

You nod your head and get back into the car. The buff man beside you waits for you to get settled in before driving away. Silence fills the space for a few minutes, your eyes staring out at the quiet city.

"What do you get when you win?" You ask all of a sudden, keeping your gaze on the view.

Changbin hums in response while taking a quick glance in your direction. "Uhm, pride?" He chuckles, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

A loud laugh leaves your lips, and you finally look over at the pretty man. You give him a look, not wanting to believe that they don't get some sort of prize. "You're absolutely kidding?" You ask, leaning forward in your seat a bit.

"I'm being one hundred percent serious," he continues to laugh, turning his vehicle down a different street. "We all do it to be on top. You know how some guys can be. They get off on this kind of stuff."

"Gross," you laugh while shaking your head.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. Changbin pulls up to your apartment building, parking the vehicle before turning it off.

"What are you -" you're cut off as Changbin piles out of the car. You watch him race around the front before opening your door for you. "Well, aren't you a gentleman?"

You giggle as you get out, flattening the skirt of your dress afterward. "I'm trying to woo you," Changbin says, shutting the door behind you.

"Woo me, huh?" You whisper to yourself, feeling your lips perk up into a smile. He walks you up to the main door, holding it open for you.

"Thanks for accompanying me tonight," he mentions. "I hope it wasn't all scary."

"I…" you trail off while walking up the last step, tilting your head to look at him. "I had fun. The driving scared me a little bit, but you're pretty good behind the wheel."

You hold your hand out to him, deciding to give him your number. Changbin looks at your open hand in confusion before realizing what's happening.

"No way!?" He asks in a hushed whisper, shoving his free hand into his pocket. He pulls his phone out, placing it onto the palm of your hand. "You're actually giving me your number?"

"Yes," you laugh, typing your contact information into the device. "You're pretty cute, Seo Changbin."

"You're cute," Changbin mumbles, his eyes dropping down to your lips. "Would you want to come to the next one with me?"

You hiss before gently biting your lip. "Hm, I don't know about that one," you tell him, rocking on the balls of your feet. "I'll have to think about it."

"I'll take that."

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning on your toes to press a kiss on his cheek. "I'll text you tomorrow," you tell him after walking through the open door.

Changbin grins, nodding his head. "I'll be waiting."

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight @luckieleaf @stayconnecteed @tiaxa @yoonrimin @sunny-future @daysofskz-ateez @endzii23 @sweetbutpsychovalkyrie @bunnies-only

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jrob64 · 2 months

Text

Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

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Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

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The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

NEW TAG LIST:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

#pet for rent #jrob64 #csff #CS fluff #CS smut #CS modern AU #captain swan fanfic #art by jrob64 #ouat Captain Swan fanfic #Captain cobra

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cellarspider · 2 months

Text

13/?? Science interlude!

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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We return to Prometheus, where I am taking a break to ramble about my job. A thing that I love. It will be a nice change. Also: weird blood!

I have been informed that some methods of accessing tumblr do not play well with long alt text rambles. To keep the flow between the main text and alt text separate, I’ll be copying the longest ones below the main text and citations. Captions that I think are going to be long enough to need this treatment will be marked with “Overflow Ramble [number]”, so they’ll be slightly easier to find. It’s not a perfect system, but Tumblr is not a perfect website.

And I am going to need the overflow space this time, because we’re getting into genetics!

After electrocuting a decapitated alien head until it exploded into a shower of green gore, the creatures that claim to be scientists stuck a bit of the goop in some sort of very science-y DNA machine, leading to this:

“Let's have a look at its DNA. Isolate the strand. Okay. Compare it to the gene sample?”

“[Overlay… Processing… Processing… DNA MATCH.]”

“Oh, my God. It's us.”

I want this preserved for posterity, because this made me absolutely hoot. They avoided fake science technobabble by going so far in the other direction that it becomes equally meaningless.

What the scene is trying to say is “this alien shares the vast majority of its genetic material with humans, indicating that they are in fact related.”

I will get to how one would actually determine that, but first: The head turned into green goop. Green goop. Humans are notably not prone to turning into green goop. Otherwise Nickelodeon would’ve probably been shut down within a week.

(Image credit: Rich Fury/KCA2021/Getty Images for Nickelodeon)

This annoyed me so much that years later, I dug up a possible explanation that backfills this with cool biology.

Humans, and almost all vertebrates have hemoglobin-filled blood. And on a tangent that I must follow: The only vertebrate that doesn’t is the icefish Channichthyidae family, commonly known as the white-blooded fish.

You’ll never guess what’s special about them.

Yes, somehow these fish manage to live without hemoglobin, their blood only having 10% of the oxygen carrying capacity of their red-blooded cousins. Hell, most of them also lack myoglobin, which stores oxygen in muscle. The loss of myoglobin isn’t just a one-off event either, genetic studies have shown that these icefish have seen four distinct branches of their family tree lose myoglobin independently of each other. They have a wild series of adaptations to permit this, but basically they were already in such cold-oxygen rich water and moving so slow that they didn’t need all that extra oxygen-having stuff. They lost it, kept going, got bigger hearts, weirder muscles, and just kept going. They’ve actually expanded their range in the past 30 million years or so!

I love them! Evolution is wild. You know what’s also wild? There’s green-blooded vertebrates. Yes. You read that right. Yes, they still have hemoglobin. What they also have are staggering levels of biliverdin, which human bodies only produce when breaking down hemoglobin–when a bruise takes on a greenish hue, it’s because the dismantling of the blood under your skin has created biliverdin. While it’s generally been thought of as just a breakdown product, some research suggests that it also has protective effects against a number of diseases. In moderation, though. If you have enough of it to actually turn a bit green, you’ve got jaundice, which is not a thing you want to have.

But for a number of fish species, bush frogs, and skinks, they have way more biliverdin.

(Austin, C. C., & Jessing, K. W. (1994). Green-blood pigmentation in lizards. Comparative Biochemistry and Physiology Part A: Physiology, 109(3), 619-626.)

Humans usually don’t have much circulating biliverdin at all, so the table above compares someone with untreated jaundice to a number of other species–fish with two to fourteen times that amount, and the green-blooded skinks have twenty-two times as much! These creatures have green blood and turquoise-colored bones, and we still don’t know why. Maybe it’s protection against diseases, maybe it’s protection against parasites like malaria, maybe it’s to make them really blend in with foliage. Could be all of those at once, could be none of them, we don’t know! What we do know is that, as with the icefish, the green-blooded skinks in particular have independently evolved this feature four different times. (Rodriguez, Z. B., Perkins, S. L., & Austin, C. C. (2018). Multiple origins of green blood in New Guinea lizards. Science Advances, 4(5), eaao5017.)

(https://australian.museum/blog-archive/amri-news/amri-three-tiny-green-blooded-frogs-sing-like-birds/)

(https://web.archive.org/web/20180619143048/https://blog.nationalgeographic.org/2013/09/30/why-do-mysterious-lizards-have-green-blood/)

We have no mammals identified with biliverdin-filled green blood, you would need a lot of tweaks to how our bodies function to make this work. But it’s not literally impossible, like I thought in the theater! I’m quite sure the prop department didn’t do this level of research on the subject, but think about it!

I love biology! It’s! So! Weird!

And because I love biology, you’re not getting rid of me yet. My chosen field is genetics. This movie has presented me with a laughable sci-fi depiction of what we do.

So! What do we actually do, when we want to find out how related we are to another species?

I’m going to get into excruciating detail, so here’s the top-line summary: We extract the DNA, mash it up into readable little chunks, use some wicked cool machines to do the actual reading, and then we compare the target DNA with our DNA, and do some cooler stuff the movie isn’t aware of. A competent analysis would not only be able to tell you how much overlap two genomes have, but also be able to estimate how long the two species have been genetically distinct.

Is this way more than the movie needed for this plot point? Yes. But they didn’t actually have to do this at all, they could’ve just said the truth that science fiction usually ignores for budgetary reasons: “there’s no way these beings independently evolved to look so much like us, we have to be related.”

(Although even Star Trek, despite being the classic example of “putting a rubber thing on an actor’s forehead to make them an alien”, actually does acknowledge this. Precisely once. TNG s6e20, “The Chase”. It has never been mentioned again in the main line series, possibly because Rick Berman didn’t like it.)

Now. Time for me to take you all on a grand tour of DNA sequencing and phylogenetic analysis. You are all getting into the Willy Wonka boat with me. You have no choice.

So! You have a sample you’ve taken from a non-human mammal, one that’s never been genetically analyzed before. You are very lucky. You get to do fun stuff.

But before you get to sequencing, you have to purify any DNA in the sample. Your sample is full of all sorts of other biochemical gunk, and when cells are happy, DNA is packed away in the nucleus–you need to crack those open to get at the DNA.

Next, you need to break the DNA into chunks, that’s #1 on the diagram above. For most of the past twenty years, this has meant chunking DNA down into pieces 25-50 letters long–just enough to probably get something unique over most of the genome, though you will have some areas that look identical at that tiny scale. In recent times, we’ve been getting better and better at what’s called “long read sequencing”, which at this point means fragments of several thousand DNA letters in length–though that’s still pretty short, compared to human chromosomes though: the average length of a human chromosome is 134 million letters long.

Depending on the sequencing technology and its needs, the sample may also need “amplification”: getting copied over and over using a protein originally harvested from hotspring-loving bacteria (#2). I always love that bit just as a concept: it’s one of many places where the modern study of genetics uses the microscopic, biological machinery of proteins for our own use!

After everything’s prepared, Then the sequencing itself can occur. That too is wild–the most common versions these days use tiny little fluorescent proteins to tag each letter of the DNA and read the sequence of lights (#3!). Some use infinitesimally tiny electrical modulations as DNA passes by a microscopic reader. There’s loads of different ways, anything works, so long as it can be read by a computer.

All this takes place in machines that are either small enough to fit on a countertop, or big enough to look like a fridge, and come in Apple White or Cheap Plastic Appliance.

Because you have a new species, you’re building what we call a reference genome. This tries to capture as much of the entire genome sequence as possible. Here’s an interesting wrinkle, though–A lot of samples won’t be just DNA from your target species! You might be picking up microbial DNA along the way as well. That can be really interesting and worth knowing about, though! Some people spend their whole careers studying the genomes of microbes found on people’s skin, or in their bodies. You’ll be computationally sorting out which sequences are in contiguous, mammalian chromosomes, which are from mitochondrial DNA (those cute little powerhouses have their own genomes!), and which come from microbes.

At the end of it, you have sequenced an entire genome. Because you want to find out how related it is to humans, you compare it to our reference genome–The human reference genomes we use is an assembly made from multiple individuals.* We use the reference genome as a common point of comparison that we refer to when studying genetic variation.

*Though if you’re working with data form the Genome Reference Consortium as is usually standard, one anonymous African-European donor, RP11, is still the backbone of the reference, accounting for 70% of the latest assembly.

(https://mk.bcgsc.ca/telomere-to-telomere-human-genome-assembly/posters.mhtml)

So, we’d compare this new mammalian genome to our own–how much overlap would we find? A lot. How you define our similarities and differences from other species can change the answer, but you’ll expect a lot of overlap. Some areas of the genome diverge faster than others, others are highly conserved–generally the more stable it is, the more important it is for our function.

Through many, many, many studies and corroboration with the archaeological record, we’ve worked out how to estimate how long ago two species diverged from each other. Actually, you’d rarely be comparing between just two species at this stage–get out all the other relevant reference genomes you’ve got! Compare them all! Build a phylogenetic tree–the modern version of that “tree of life” idea that Darwin popularized. Then you’ll have a more accurate sense of how your mystery species relates to everything.

(https://www.embl.org/news/science/a-new-tree-of-life-allows-a-closer-look-at-the-origin-of-species/)

I’m going to go off on a tangent to end this post, because that’s just the start, taking the entire genome of a single individual. This is what most people think is what we always do. But no! That’s expensive overkill for most experiments. Once you’re familiar with a species, and you’ve sequenced DNA from many individuals, you can identify areas where lots of them have sequence variants. These can be completely benign, differences that make us all unique, or make an individual more susceptible to disease. This allows us to target what we want out of DNA sequencing: Are we trying to diagnose an illness? Identify a person from a tissue sample? Or are we doing something more exploratory?

Depending on what you want, you select anywhere from a handful of locations, up to tens of thousands. The closest many people have gotten to this stuff is through ancestry services like 23andMe, which uses this kind of sequencing.

But that’s not all! There’s so many different targets to choose from, depending on what you want to do! So many techniques to get DNA in different ways! And we still haven’t gotten to the part that I actually work on.

I’m a computational geneticist. I get all the gigabytes of data that comes out of these experiments and I get to dig into the details, the patterns that emerge between genetic code and the details of the organisms we study, the connections between genome sequence and other, wilder things we can collect data on, the dizzying complexities of what goes on every microsecond of every day in every cell in your body.

I love my job.

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_YuTMDkWfI 2. https://doi.org/10.1242/jeb.116129 note: this source lists the image as credit to “J.M.B.”, which is not how I’m used to seeing images credited. Those are the initials of one of the authors, but I thought it meant “Journal of Molecular Biology”, so I went on a half hour wander around the internet trying to find where the hell this fish blood came from. 3. https://www.thebhs.org/publications/the-herpetological-journal/volume-13-number-4-october-2003/1729-01-hyperbiliverdinemia-in-the-shingleback-lizard-tiliqua-rugosa 4. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1439-0264.2009.00952.x 5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandrill#Characteristics 6. https://www.vogue.com/article/dune-part-two-costumes-jacqueline-west-interview 7. http://dx.doi.org/10.13140/RG.2.2.29564.08327 8. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/357946568_New_approaches_and_concepts_to_study_complex_microbial_communities 9. https://karobben.github.io/2023/10/30/Bioinfor/PacBio/

Overflow Ramble 1

the fuckin “DNA MATCH” machine. I already wrote a 380-word alt-text about this thing last time. I’m not doing it again. I’m going to talk about things I like instead. Such as Dune: Part Two! Yes! I mentioned it last week and then didn’t ramble about it after seeing it. Well, NOW I WILL. tl;dr it’s good, go see it. I only vaguely remember the book, but I liked the changes they made to center the fact that no, Paul becoming Lisan al-Gaib is not actually a good thing.

Man, it’s nice to see a movie where the costumers and set designers got good time to work on their craft. (cite 6) Even the generic Harkonnen soldiers looked great–reminded me a lot of my beloved Warframe, probably because the costume designer was using H.R. Giger for inspiration there. Everything felt real. Even the stuff that definitely wasn’t–the gigantic spice harvesters and ships felt like living, physically present beings. The sand worms looked great. The movie did a fantastic job visually communicating the massive size of so many things. Especially because the camera remains restrained: no weightless zipping around, the camera itself follows paths and finds locations that make sense.

Chakobsa continues to be a fantastic conlang, now the work of both David and Jesse Peterson. It’s heard a lot more in this movie, and there are some great flourishes with it. While there isn’t as much Arabic vocabulary in it as in the original books, I remember from DJP’s work streams that he definitely was using the grammar of Arabic as one of his touchstones. Most key words remain Arabic though–jihad was removed, but it made me double-take in the theater when Stilgar referred to Paul as the Mahdi.

I’m of two minds about lowering the Arab influences on the Fremen–on the one hand, missing representation, which included some explicit ties to real world anti-imperial struggles in North Africa and the Middle East. On the other, these first two movies are about how the Fremen are manipulated by a colonial power, using their adherence to a faith that was manipulated by a different colonial power. They become both hapless victims and also perpetrators of colonial violence, with only Chani seeing through it.

I think the general decisionmaking process on cultural changes was motivated by a desire to remove some of Frank Herbert’s bad ideas–particularly around the Harkonnens, thank fuck. That seems to have been the thinking around altering the Fremen a bit as well. Did it succeed? Not my place to say. On all other notes, I have no reservations recommending the movie. It’s a very earnest attempt to bring that world to life, and I think it succeeds.

Overflow Ramble 2

A figure showing the basic steps of the standard Illumina sequencing method (cite 7). It is broken into four sub-figures:

Library Preparation. The genome is snipped into small fragments, then adapters are attached (“ligated”) to stabilize the molecule and make it behave. This creates a “library” of DNA that will be read from.

DNA library bridge amplification. The adapters on DNA fragments stick to a prepared plate, which is covered in little clusters of molecules that specially attach to those adapters. Biochemical processes are then carried out in repeated cycles to duplicate (or “amplify”) those fragments in such a way that the clusters on the plate are all filled with copies of just one DNA fragment.

DNA library sequencing. The DNA is modified so that the four letters it’s made out of all glow a specific color, with each DNA letter shining in sequence. This is pure awesome and I love it.

Alignment and data analysis. Because of some details on how step 1 is done, you have lots of fragments that create an overlapping patchwork of sequences. This allows (most of) the genome to be pasted back together by looking for overlaps (“contiguous sequences”, or “contigs” for short).

Congratulations! You have just attended an abridged graduate-level introductory lecture on Illumina sequencing.

Overflow Ramble 3

A diagram of PacBio Systems’ sequencing technology, Single Molecule, Real-Time Sequencing, or SMRT Sequencing, because scientists love acronyms. Pretty much every step is different from how Illumina does it. I cannot find a diagram that’s both brief and also good at explaining what it’s showing, so this is the best I could find. It’s split into four parts with attendant text, which I’ll try and explain as well.

“SMRTbell template. Two hairpin adapters allow continuous circular sequencing.”

Library preparation basically involves taking a longer chunk of DNA and splitting it in half lengthwise, in such a way that the two strands of DNA will form a single-stranded loop. This is called a SMRTbell library. Why? I have no idea!

“ZMW wells. Sites where sequencing takes place.”

Then, these are fed into SMRT Cells, which contain zero-mode waveguides (ZMWs). I was once told what this means, and I have completely forgotten, but it sounds like something from Gundam.

“Modified polymerase. As a nucleotide is incorporated by the polymerase, a camera records the emitted light.”

What I do understand is that at the bottom of each of these little holes, they stick a molecule which the DNA sticks to. This molecule, a polymerase, has precisely one job: make more DNA, an exact copy of what it’s latched onto. So you give it this loop of DNA, feed it a soup of free DNA letters, and it starts cranking out a new strand.

“PacBio output. A camera records the changing colours from all ZMWs; each colour change corresponds to one base.”

Each one of the DNA letters given to the polymerase has a special modifier, on it which flashes a color when the polymerase slots it into the new strand it’s making. A camera picks up this flash. And, because the DNA is a circle, the polymerase doesn’t know where to stop–it just keeps going and going until something breaks or it runs out of letters to work with. This means that even if the camera misses a flash the first time, it will have more chances to see it, and confirm what it already saw.

Wait what in the fuck this figure was from somebody’s thesis (cite 8), but that wasn’t what actually got this into search results. What got it there was a github page with a vtuber avatar sitting in the corner?? What??? (cite 9)

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#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#I go rogue and refuse to talk about the movie #or rather I spend 4600 words talking about a quarter of a scene as a springboard to talk about my job and how cool it is #I kind of envy people who work on wild population genetics #but also their sample sizes are tiny and bad for my particular specialty #so I'm giving a broad overview on how reference genome assembly works and I've only ever done phylogenetics on intraspecific variants #yes this is how much I talk about bits of my job that aren't even directly my job #because working in genetics is SO COOL #tomorrow we'll be back to analyzing inexplicable characters and androids poisoning people don't worry

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samsno1 · 4 months

Text

Liberty or Life

Billy Butcher x Gn!POC!Reader

hello i fucking suck at titles? anyway, i wrote this at the beach while i was getting tanned because i never found a butcher fic with this exact vibe so i said "yk what, imma write ts"

ill maybe do a part 2 if i feel like it

Sumary: The reader finds something about Liberty and wants to check it out. Butcher thinks it's just too easy to be true.

Warnings: SPOILERS THE BOYS S2, english isn't my first language, kinda mean butcher but he means it well, poc!reader (wrote it with latinos in mind but i didn't mention us especifically so dig in), use of y/n, HURT/COMFORT, blood, violence, gore (?), cursing (i mean its the boys), hom*lander mentioned (yes he gets a fucking warning), i didn't make the reader speak neither spanish nor portuguese, up to ya, i had no idea how to transcribe his british accent but i did my best. NOT PROOF READ

WC: 3.3k

You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here

if you enjoy it please lmk!

Of course it was a trap. A fucking trap.

While confined in your apartment, searching more and more about Stormfront - AKA Liberty - after the encounter with the poor woman that ended up losing her brother to her hands right in front of her eyes you found a clue, something that could help take her down.

According to the document you spent the whole night reading with several cups of coffee and a killing migraine, there was a file hidden in a building close to Vought's that gave away all the racist behavior of Liberty's past (and present). It would be more than enough to make the people mad.

Hell, it made you mad. An immigrant trying to bring down an incredibly popular Supe, who would definetly get rid of any of your people out of North American territory? Definitely a perfect situation for your ass, not dangerous at all.

But still, if not you and The Boys, who? Even if Butcher's focus wasn't her it was for you, as a personal offense.

You knew racism wasn't foreign in the Superhero industry (or in the United States as a whole, you lived it constantly) but executing people of color is borderline a genocide and it was happening right under the peoples noses. God, praised even.

You scoffed at the screen of your computer and picked up your phone to call either Butcher or MM about what you found, to see if they could back you up on the mission.

You dialed Butcher first, putting your cell to your ear as you got up from the chair, your legs needing a stretch, as you walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get a beer. It is 6pm somewhere you thought.

As you popped open the can the familiar british accent hit your ears and you subconsciously smiled to yourself.

“Wha’ d'ya want, luv?” He asked, voice gruff, clearly woken up by your call. You imagined his tousled hair. Maybe he was shirtless.

“Did I wake you?” You asked, taking a sip of the bitter drink on your hand, the alcohol much appreciated in your stomach.

“Maybe” He said and you could hear the teasing smile on his face.

“I'm sorry, I just called to say I found something on Liberty…Stormfront…whatever her fucking name is” You clarified as you mindlessly play with the seal of the beer can with your index finger “There's a building nearby that hides some documents about her, y'know, the shady stuff. I wanted to go there tonight, see if I find it”

You hear shuffling in the other line with a grunt, assuming he was getting up from the bed – or wherever he was sleeping.

He didn't speak for some moments letting you hear his bare feet walking around his apartment.

“I don’ know abou’ it Y/N, how'd ya even find those?” He asked, his voice hesitant.

“Butcher, I'm a hacker and Vought's system sucks ass compared to what I've already done” You explained “I just got in, easy”

You can't see it but he bites his bottom lip on the other line. He was still skeptical, would it really be that easy to find stuff on a Supe like Liberty? He knew your abilities, hell, he admired it but he was always extra careful when it came to you.

“Really?” He asked and you could feel the way his eyebrow raised and you scoffed “Okay, I'm jus’ doubtful, Liberty hasn’ been talked abou’ in ages an’ ya find stuff…easy?”

“What, lost faith in my abilities?” You teased. You finished your beer and threw the can in the thrash, it hitting the bottom of the thrash with a loud thud “C'mon, it will be easy. In and out”

“I'm not sure it's a good idea, luv” He said and you frowned, sitting on your island in the kitchen, your feet dangling off the edge.

“Y'know I called to warn you I was going, not to ask permission, you ain't my father” You mumbled with the intention to let him hear it, the tone in your voice serious “Just wanted to know if you wanted to come with”

“Nah” He replied, his voice loud and clear over the phone and you make a shocked confused face to yourself. Did he not want to keep you company? “Ya ain't going, it's risky. It looks too easy. Nothin’ with these cunts’ easy” He said firmly and you scoffed in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah, I am, alone or with you, I'm busting into that building” You said just as firmly as he did “You know how I feel about that racist cunt” You cursed. The more time you spent with Butcher, the more you started using his British vocabulary. Cunt was the most common but Bullocks also came with from time to time.

“Of course I know but still, we have to be smart abou’ it” A tip of anger laced his voice. He often got pissed at how stubborn you could be and this was one of those times.

“I'll be in there tonight. Goodbye Butcher” You said and turned off the call, not wanting to hear him going on and on about your ‘recklessness’ as he called it, scoffing and smashing your phone down on the island beside you, running a hand through your head.

You liked when Butcher was caring towards you, it was what made you start catching feelings for the man in the first place, but sometimes he just treated you like a kid, as if you could do nothing without him lecturing you beforehand.

On the other side, Butcher groans angrily as he notices you turned the call off and he throws his phone on the bed. “Fucking ‘ell” He curses to himself as he rubs his temples with his thumb and index fingers.

He knew you wouldn't drop it. You were a force of nature, but impulsive. Sometimes he loved it, sometimes he hated it.

This was time he wished you just listened.

The feeling in his gut that something wasn't right remained for the whole day, his head barely able to focus on anything else as he was too worried. Worried about you.

At about 8pm he was nervously biting on the side of his thumbnail trying to ignore his phone besides him as he told himself over and over he should call you to see if you were fine. The other (minor) side of him telling himself he should drop it. You were strong, you could pull it off and he didn't want to bruise his ego giving in to your stupid idea.

Fuck it.

He checked his phone to see a message from you. The address to said building. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Maybe you weren't so stupid after all.

He grabbed his keys and put on his black trench coat and a gun in the waistband of his jeans.

As he closed the door behind him he rushed to his car, wondering if you were okay or if something happened.

At the thought of you hurt he hurried his feet on the pavement to get faster to his car. To get faster to you.

He drove above the speed limit after he tried calling you 3 times, all going to voicemail. He cursed to himself as he arrived at the building and took in the sight in front of him.

The windows were busted and, as he got in, he could clearly see bullet holes on the walls and his heart started beating faster in his chest. Please be okay, please be alive, I can't lose you too.

He moves through crumbles and remains of the walls, taking his gun in his hand and moving slowly, aware of any danger.

The more he walked without any sight of you, the more worried he got.

As he went down the stairs to the basement he heard a low groan and his eyes widened and his whole body turned towards the noise.

The basement was a complete wreck. Shelves down on the ground, glass and books everywhere.

Then he saw you and his heart sank to his stomach. You were sitting down against the wall, a huge stab wound in your side where your hand was trying to keep pressure, which clearly wasn't enough as he took sight of the amount of blood beneath you and in your hands.

He took a quick look around and rushed to you, kneeling in front of you. He took notice of how pale you looked but still, at least, half conscious.

He held your shoulder with one hand and pressed the other over your wound making you wince in pain. His face was serious, angry. He didn't know if it was at you or at whoever did this to you but he was livid.

“What the fuck did ya do?” He asked through gritted teeth, not expecting an answer but you put your hand over his forearm, the blood staining his coat and smiled. You fucking smiled, that beatiful smile that could make Butcher melt from miles away.

“You came” You said, your voice low and hoarse and then you went into a coughing fit and Butcher held you to his chest.

“Easy, easy Kid” He said as he took a deep breath so as to not get emotional. He took your hand and pressed it over the bloody wound “I'm gonna need ya to keep pressure in this while I get ya out, c'mon”

You nodded weakly and pressed it as hard as you could while his other arm wrapped below your knees and lifted you up, the movement making you hiss.

He carried you out as quickly as possible as he placed you in the backseat of his car as he went to the driver's, turning the vehicle on and sprinting back to his place.

At the feeling of being safe, the adrenaline started wearing down and you were suddenly very tired. Your eyes closed as you felt your consciousness slip away and then you didn't feel anything anymore.

When you woke up again you were laying on a bed that wasn't yours, in a room that wasn't yours. Your head was pounding and breathing hurt and you let out a groan.

As your vision focused, you looked around and took in the place until your eyes caught a glimpse at someone on a chair besides you. Sleeping, with his arms crossed over his chest, was Butcher and you started remembering what happened.

You mindlessly put your hand over the neatly done bandaging in your stomach and looked at Butcher again.

“Butcher” You said, your voice low and weak. The man besides you stirs awake, his eyes opening slowly.

As he notices you're awake he gets up and places a hand on your forehead hurriedly, breathing deeply as if it was a relief seeing your eyes staring back at him.

“You're awake” He said, looking between your eyes.

As you looked back up at him guilt started pooling in your heart and you looked away, you smiled sadly.

“You were right” You mumbled and he pulled his hand away from your face and sighed angrily. He brushed a hand trough his face, his nostrils flaring up.

He didn't say anything, just stared at your bandaged wound, lost in thought, so you continued talking.

“They jumped me, some people that worked for Vought. I knocked some down but one of them caught me. Thay ran away after that, leaving me to die, apparently” You explained, still refusing to look at him “I'm sorry.”

At that, he looked at you again and you looked at him. He was angry and sad, his face gave it all away and you felt small under his stare. Maybe because you were laying down but still, you felt helpless.

“Why didn't ya fuckin’ listen to me” He said, his voice low, apparently calm and that was the most scary of it all. You preferred that he yelled at you, screamed in anger and never looked at you again then to act like this.

“You– I fuckin’ told ya” He said squinting his eyes as a hand goes to nudge at the wound and you grunt as he aplies pressure to it “Look at where your stupidity gotcha”

Tears prickle at the corner of your closed eyes as you grab at his wrist to pull it away from your skin, your own hand covering the bandage protectively as you glare at him. You knew you fucked up but what was going on with him?

“What the fuck Butcher!” You exclaim through your teeth as the pain eases away “I know I should've listened to you, I already said I'm sorry!”

“Sorry don’ cut it!” He finally yells at you, making you shrink as he points a finger at your face. “When I arrived the color on your face was gone! You were basically dead as I carried ya out! There was blood everywhere, Y/N”

He turned his back to you, and sighed loudly. If it was possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears.

You felt your eyes water. He seemed more than angry and you hated that you were the reason that he felt like this.

“How long was I out?” You asked lowly as you forced yourself to sit with your back against the headboard, making a face at the sting in your belly.

“About 52 hours” He replies, his back still turned to you and your eyes widen in shock and look at his back.

His head was down and his hands were both on his own waist.

You nodded even if he couldn't see you, more so to acknowledge it to yourself. As you let the information sink in, Butcher leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

He couldn't let you see the tears forming in his eyes as all his thoughts went back to your limp body on his arms and the hours he spent beside the bed, holding your hand and talking to you while you were in your coma. He wanted to hug you, hold you and he couldn't bear the idea of losing you. Not when he hadn't told you anything about what he wanted from you.

How everytime you looked at him with those bright eyes he felt like he could drown in them, how your smile was the reason he got out of bed every morning, how your voice was like a beautiful tune that was hypnotizing. How your lips always provoked his deepest desires to emerge.

Seeing you bleeding broke him apart further then it should've and that scared him. He had sworn to never care for someone this much since the last time he felt this his heart got torn to pieces by Becca.

He shouldn't. He couldn't.

But he also couldn't help that every time you touched him he felt his skin warm up and his heart accelerate.

He pressed his forehead to the shut door and mentally cursed himself over and over again, he didn't know what to do until he saw the handle turn and the door slowly open.

You opened the door, a hand on your waist to ease the pain as you looked at him teary eyed.

He made a confused face with slight worry but then you choked out a sob and threw both of your arms around his neck and started to cry against his shoulder.

Butcher was shocked until his arms eased themselves around your lower back. One hand rubbed up and down as he felt your tears wet his shirt.

“I was– so scared” You admitted, shaking with your sobs and gripping his shirt tightly under your fingers to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. “It was so cold. The only thing that kept me breathing was when…when I looked at my phone and you– you were calling” You sobbed harder after each word, your body trembling.

“When you left voicemails…I was happy because if I…” You swallowed “If I died I would at least hear your voice one last time”

His grip around you tightened and one of his hands went into your hair as he adjusted your head into his chest, his jaw above you as he closed his eyes. He felt a tingle in his heart at your words, a spark of love lighting itself up in bad weather.

“Shh, you're fine now, you're ‘ere, alive, I'm 'ere” He whispered comfortably as you kept crying and he thought of all the things he wanted to tell you.

“And I know I was stupid. That I– That I should've listened but I want her dead, I want Homelander dead and I just–” You choked “I just wanted to have control over something, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry”

He gently swayed both your bodies side to side, a comforting hand rubbing at your scalp. Butcher didn't say anything, just letting you get it all out until your breathing calmed down.

The tears had stopped flowing and now you were just sniffing, your cheeks puffy and your eyes red. He grabbed both sides of your face and pulled you back to look into your eyes, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Feel betta’?” He asked and you nodded slightly and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking into your beautiful orbs again. “I'm sorry too, luv, I really am”

You opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you before you could speak.

“I shouldn’ have said those things t'ya, I was just– Angry, but not at you” He gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, drying a stubborn tear rolling down your face. “I was angry at myself”

Apparently you made a face at him because he gave you a thin-lipped smile.

“I was angry because I knew you were going anyway an’ I let'ya go alone. If I was there, this wouldn’ have happened”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I was scared that I'd neva see ya smile again, see your beautiful eyes look into mine, hear your stunnin' voice” He hugged you again, his hands wrapping you in a warm embrace. He didn't want to let you go in fear this was a dream and he buried his face in the crook of your neck before finishing.

“I was scared I would neva be able to tell ya tha’ I love ya” He mumbles in your neck as his arms tighten around you and a shiver runs through you.

William Butcher loved you.

Your hands grabbed at his shoulders and pushed him back lightly as you looked into his eyes.

Your expression doesn’t give anything away and Butcher starts to feel sick as he thinks he's going to be rejected. He prepares for impact.

Then you smile.

Your smile wide because you feel warm. Warmed by his love. Diferently then the cold night at the building.

Your hands travel up to both sides of his face as you pull him in. You go slowly, waiting to see if he'd pull back but he surprises you with a strong, passionate kiss, making you gasp in surprise.

The world feels small around you as his hands grab at your waist, careful not to hurt you as you pour out every feeling you bottled up through the years in that kiss.

And Butcher was consumed by you, by every single inch of you, by every part of your being. Your voice was a melodic chorus to his ears, your lips a river to which he was drowning in, your body the perfect fit for his.

When you pull away from each other with rushed breaths you're still smiling, your hand caressing his beard covered cheek.

“I love you too” You whisper and Butcher smashes his lips against yours again, making you giggle in surprise.

Now that they had each other it was them against the world. Nothing could tear them apart because they were made for one another, the flames of their souls dancing together in a single rhythm.

They didn't know or didn't feel it but ever since the first time they had locked eyes the destiny made their paths merge into a single one at one point in both their lives. And this was it. Two souls bound, forever.

☆

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you very much for reading. Xoxo

#the boys imagine #the boys x reader #the boys x y/n #the boys x you #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #william butcher #william butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher smut #the boys

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

But the fact we know Dot will eventually call Rooster 'Dad' makes my heart swell

Terms of Endearment Masterlist

AAAHHHH my heart just burst inside my chest thinking about this. I feel like it would just slip out the first time, and Bradley would be caught so off guard that he kinda just freezes? But not because he doesn't want to be known as dad, but because you’ve just never spoken about it before or mentioned if you were comfortable with it or if Dot should even be calling Bradley her dad because well, he wasn't biologically.

“You're her father in all the ways that matter though Bradley, so if she's comfortable enough with you to call you dad then I'm okay with it too.” You barely blink after Bradley brings it up. Dot had called him dad at the kindergarten pick-up. She’d come racing out with a drawing she had done just for him, Like she’d done in daycare a million times before. Although this time she’d come racing up to him, jumped into his arms, and squealed two words Rooster knew he’d never forget and would never stop hearing in his dreams.

“Hi Dad!!”

“Okay, well good chat babe.” Bradleys just pressing his lips together and nodding softly, hoping that it wasn't just a one time thing. It's not. Dot calls Bradley dad whenever she isn't calling him Rooster, which had replaced Tooster a few months ago because her speech therapy had actually been working much to Bradleys shock horror. He missed Tooster.

But as Odette gets older, her attitude evolves and when she's fifteen? The spitting image of her mother and a pain in the ass, Dot is calling her uncle Jake to come pick her up from a house party she’d snuck out to attend. Only the cops had shown up and she high tailed it out of there so fast she ended up down at the beach crying. Jake doesnt come and get her, he rings Bradley who's jumping out of bed so fast he doesn't even put shorts on, boxers will just have to do.

“You’re not even my real dad!” She's yelling, a sobbing mess in the passenger seat of Bradleys Bronco, he’d just finished giving her the third degree but told her if she’s gonna do this type of stuff she has to tell him because he just wants her to be safe. “Where do you get off telling me what to do?” And Bradley hates himself for it because he knows it's not good for the Bronco but he's pulling over on the side of the road and slamming on his brakes so hard it sends both him and Odette forward for a moment before their backs hit the seats again.

“Listen here kid–” Bradleys gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw and pointing his index finger at the fifteen year old whos sitting next to him with alcohol running though her system and he fucking knows she high as a kite just by the red in her eyes. “I may not be your biological dad? But I'm here aren't I?” Rooster points out the elephant in the room. “Ive changed my fair fucking share of shitty dippers and I held your hand while I taught you how to rollerskate and ride a bike and I mashed your stupid bananas just so you could throw them in my face anyway.” Dot was dumbfounded, Bradley had never raised his voice at her like this but someone had to smack some sense into this kid before it was too late. “I pay half your school tuition and I make sure you don’t starve to death whenever your mothers working late and need I remind you I’m your legal goddamn guardian, your last name is Bradshaw! So no–I’m not your ‘real dad’ but I don’t need you giving me shit when I’m here and always have been here and always will be here and that deadbeat dickhead isnt and never fucking was.”

It’s silent for a moment while Odette just takes in what the fuck just happened—usually Bradley was pretty passive, never one to raise his voice. But she’d clearly upset him. He’s putting the Bronco into gear again, shifting the gear stick in frustration as he pulls back onto the main road cautiously—his attention now back on the road as he whips the steering wheel around with one hand.

“Your mother would be beside herself if something happened to you kid, so just do me a favour here? and tell me where you’re going, no questions asked.” Again, Roosters met with silence as the fifteen year old just tries to process everything Bradley had just said when her head is spinning and she can’t tell if her fingers were real or not.

“Do you reckon he knew I was defective?” Dots letting her head rest back against the seat as she tries to hide her tears while looking out the window. “That’s why he didn’t want me?” Odette Bradshaw was too young to remember what you’d been through to keep her safe, let alone know why her biological dad wasn’t in the picture.

“You aren’t defective Dot—“ Roosters sighing, he’s still fucking pissed but he can sympathise. “He just isn’t a good person, it was never you.” If there was a conversation Bradley Bradshaw knew not to start without your permission it was the topic of Dots biological father. “But I love you? Isn’t that enough?”

“Please—“ Odette scoffing, picking at her cuticles till they started to bleed a little. Huh, guess they are real after all. “You love mum and you love Riley and you love Nick—“ She’s pausing, her bottom lip quivering as she turned to look at Rooster. “But I was just the package deal.”

“You have no idea how much I love you kid—“ Bradley’s chuckling to himself as he flicks the indicator on. “You’re my daughter, end of story.”

“Yeah but like, you don’t have a choice?” Bradley could tell by the way Dot was slurring her words that she was gonna be sick by the time they pulled into the drive.

“No I don’t have a choice with Riley and Nick—“ Rooster explained. “Because I created them, I have to love them regardless, but you? I choose to love you and I choose to put up with your recklessness and I choose to get up in the middle of the night to come get your drunk ass because I love you and I choose to love you.”

“Really?”

“If you throw up in the car I may have to re-evaluate but yeah kid, you’re stuck with the ‘not real’ dad for life.” By the time Rooster is pulling into the drive your standing at the front door in your dressing gown, arms crossed—glasses on, looking all kinds of angry.

“Oh fuck she looks pissed—“ Dots groaning all the while Rooster is laughing.

“Hey you wanna be a rebel you gotta own up to the consequences of your own actions.”

“Please don’t tell her I’m high—“

“I’m not gonna tell her shit are you kidding me?” Rooster raises his eyebrows in utter disbelief. “Im not suicidal, you’re gonna tell her yourself.”

“Dad!” Dots pleading, begging Rooster to help her out. He thinks it’s hilarious, laughing as he watches you march down the three patio stairs.

“Oh so now it’s dad when you want a bodyguard huh?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt t @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw

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onlymingyus · 2 years

Text

Use Me 2

pairing; lee seokmin (dk - dokyeom) x afab reader

genre; smut (minors dni), filth, honestly this is a lot

warnings; mean dom!seokmin, dom/sub dynamics, color system, unprotected sex, fingering, ring on fingers while fingering, brief oral (f receiving), breast play, ice play, spit play, hands bound, praise, degradation, reader called whore and slut, comments about the reader being in heat, humiliation, dacryphilia, rough sex, sudden change in personality after the scene is complete, aftercare implied and talked about, trust established

request; yes

w/c; 3.4k and some change

a/n; this was requested by several people but i don't really have an ask to attach it to. enjoy.

use me part 1

Seokmin’s fingers unlace with yours as he closes the bedroom door, a smile on his lips as she watches you move into the room. The black dress reaches just above your knees, tight around your hips, the end swaying when you walk before turning and walking backwards. No hint of nerves visible on your face though Seokmin knows what is going to happen tonight as he brings his hands to the tie around his neck and starts to loosen it, a smirk taking the place of his gentle smile.

“Did you have a good night angel?” You nod and Seokmin nods in return as you watch his hands, the way they flex, the veins that run along the back of his hand becoming visible and you know that if his shirt and jacket were out of the way the veins would extend up his forearms so deliciously. You lick your lips and Seokmin laughs, almost darkly, enjoying this new little game the two of you had started to play regularly.

“What are you thinking about?” You laugh and Seokmin moves towards you as his tie rests around his neck untied now. His hands undo the first three buttons of his crisp white button down before he pushes his black suit jacket off his shoulders and down his arms placing it over the back of a chair. You sit on the side of the bed watching him carefully as he undoes the buttons of his sleeves and pushes them up exposing the forearms you were just thinking about making you suck on your bottom lip as you rub your thighs together.

“Several things but right now? Your arms, how good you look in this suit.” Seokmin raises a brow stepping up to your legs placing one leg between your knees before tilting your head back by placing his index finger against your chin before he runs his thumb along your bottom lip pushing it against your teeth lightly. “Is that so? Are you ready to play with me? Hm? Are you, my sweet little angel, ready to be my little whore?”

At the name ‘whore’ Seokmin’s grip on your chin changes and his touch becomes rougher. His thumb sliding into your mouth pressing down on your tongue as you close your eyes and gasp into a soft moan before you open your eyes and look up at him with a nod as you try to close your legs but remember that his leg is between your knees keeping them parted just enough.

“Yes I am.” Seokmin glances down at your legs as you speak, tilting his head with a small scoff. “Then why would you try to close these delicious legs? When you know I’m going to want them spread for me soon?” You lick your lips as his thumb slides along your chin before he takes his hand away from you and steps back. “Stand up and turn your back to me. Let’s see how well you listen.”

You take a breath and stand up on unsteady legs as you hear Seokmin walk away from you and the door to the room open. You start to glance over your shoulder but hear a tsk. “Not off to a good start. Don’t turn around until I tell you.” You nod and look down at your hands as you listen to the sound of his steps becoming distant before you can’t hear them anymore for a moment. The urge to look for him is strong but the will to please him when you are in this play space is even more present.

Seokmin moves back into the bedroom pleased to see you still in the place he had left you. A breathy sound of approval leaves his lips as he moves to sit something on the nightstand before you feel his hand run along the back of your neck as he smirks. “I knew you could listen to simple commands. That is good to know, baby.” You shiver at his touch as his cold rings against your skin as his fingers trail down to your back so he can catch the top of your zipper pulling it down slowly as he listens to you gasp.

“So responsive tonight. Are you that excited? Hmm?” You suck on your bottom lip as you feel his fingers splay against your lower back briefly before he moves his hands to your shoulder pushing the straps of your dress down your arms as he hooks his pinkies under the other side to not let your dress fall too quickly. You close your eyes as he controls every part of the experience. Seokmin takes a single step closer to you, his body warmth radiating against you as you feel his gentle breath against your ear when his hands reach your wrists and he drops the dress completely, letting it pool at your feet.

His hands run along your arms causing you to want to lean your head back against him but you wouldn’t dare right now. Any other time, if you were making love, if this was a normal day, you know he’d gladly accept you into his arms but you had asked for something different tonight. Fingers gently press against your neck as Seokmin smirks, leaning your head back, not quite as far as you were thinking in your head but just enough that he can brush his lips against your jaw. His eyes are drinking in the top of your breast over your lace bra as he runs his free hand over your ribs just under your breast.

“Walk backwards, out of your dress.” You nod and whine softly as he tightens his hand on your throat, the cold bands on his fingers barely biting into your skin deliciously as he moves you towards the nightstand. His hand under your breast moving around your back, you feel his fingers work over the clasp of your bra before the freeing feeling of the band falling loose as he undoes it.

Seokmin nips at your jaw with a groan as he presses his hips towards your ass letting you feel his bulge in his dress pants only briefly before his hand drops from your throat to move to your breast tugging down the lace cup so he can grasp at your bare flesh. The man behind you laughs when you moan softly at his touch, his mouth moving to your ear as he takes in a breath before speaking. “Such sweet moans from my pretty little slut.”

You smile at his words before daring to glance over at him watching him bite his bottom lip when he flicks his eyes from your eyes to your lips and back. “I want your back against the wall, hands above your head. Surely you can do that.” You nod and Seokmin lets you go only to stop you as you start to walk away so he can pull your bra from your body before letting you move to the space next to the nightstand, putting you back against the wall.

Seokmin glances at the delicate lace piece in his hand before smirking as he tosses it over his shoulder before watching you stand against the wall, your back slightly arched. His brow raises when he glances to your hands and gestures his own outwards as he waits. “Is your pretty little brain cloudy? Are there only thoughts of being fucked in there? Darling I promise I am going to fuck you stupid but I need you to do as you are told. Don’t make me upset.” You put your hands against the wall and run along the wall until you put them above your head close together making him nod. “See that wasn’t so hard.”

You watch as he pulls at the tie draped around his neck pulling it into his hand as he moves towards you, his eyes moving from your face to your wrists as he trails his fingers along your forearms until he grasps your wrists and looks back down at you. “Fingers laced.” Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip making Seokmin smirk to one side before he looks back at your wrist before he uses his tie to bind them together. “Keep your arms up until I say differently.”

Seokmin watches you nod before he thumbs at your bottom lip pulling it from your teeth as he laughs taking a step back. “From now on when I ask you a question I want you to use your words. You can do that can’t you?” You start to nod but when his brow shoots up you lick your lips and speak. “Yes I can.” Seokmin smiles and raises both brows teasingly before nodding. “Good. Here let me help you with these, darling. I’m sure they are soaked anyway.”

You sigh and lean your head back feeling your cheeks get warm as Seokmin’s hands move to your hips so he can push your panties down your legs before helping you step out of them. Seokmin laughs as you finally meet his eyes when he shows you the panties before dropping them off the tip of his index finger. “Such a fire in your eyes, when you are the one who asked for this. Color?”

“Green, very green.” Seokmin smiles at your words and nods moving to your left side to pick up what he had left on the nightstand which you see for the first time, a glass of ice water. “I’m glad, I’d hate to stop now. You are dripping onto your thighs like you are in heat. Are you? Hm? Are you burning up for me?” You watch him get closer to you, one hand holding the glass as he moves slightly to the side placing the glass to your lips. “Drink.”

The cold water enters your mouth and you close your eyes as you lean your head back letting it run down your throat but he pours it too fast causing it to spill around the glass. When you gasp, the cold water running along your chin, down your neck, and over your breasts, Seokmin groans softly and pulls the glass back giving you a faux apologetic look as you lick your lips. “I got eager.”

You shake your head but Seokmin grabs your cheeks with one hand making you moan at his sudden movement when he leans your head back against the wall leaning to run his warm tongue along your neck collecting a drip of the water. “Mmm…I swear your skin is on fire. We need to cool you down.” You half smirk and pull against the tie as you watch him dip his fingers into the ice water before picking out an ice cube showing it to you.

Seokmin first runs the ice along your lips before pulling it away when you open your mouth expecting him to feed it to you. “Ah, I said your skin. So greedy. Here I am, trying to be helpful…” You whine out a moan as he runs the ice cube between your breasts before he circles one and then the other slowly. Cold water runs along your stomach as the ice melts against your skin and Seokmin smirks at your reaction as he speaks. “And you just can’t be patient.” Seokmin looks down at the ice cube seeing it all but gone before he pops it into his mouth with a groan as he moves to get another from the glass as you squirm slightly against the wall.

“Don’t move.” You sigh and he laughs giving you a look at your impatience. “Tell me, my impatient little whore. Where are you the hottest? Where are you burning the most? Is it here?” You gasp for a breath as he circles your left nipple with the ice before repeating it to your right tilting his head as he admires how beautiful your breasts are before speaking. “Or is it lower?”

Your thighs rub together, your ankles crossing as Seokmin runs the ice along your stomach before he looks into your eyes as he cups your pussy pressing the ice against your hot folds. “Oh baby….I think I found the source.” You whine out his name and Seokmin smirks before leaning in to kiss your lips sweetly. “Open your mouth since you want to whine so much.”

Seokmin watches you lips open for him and he nods as he uses two fingers to slide the ice along your folds gently as your knees bend but he moves with you. “Good girl, now show me that tongue.” When you extend your tongue out Seokmin meets your eyes again before he spits onto your tongue making you moan before you pull your tongue back into your mouth swallowing it down with your own.

“Damn.” Seokmin watches your eyes close in bliss as he moves his fingers and the ice from you before he pops the ice into his mouth with a groan to the taste before he licks his fingers. “Arms in front of you.” You open your arms as you slowly lower your bound hands in front of your hips under Seokmin’s watchful gaze as he takes a step backwards, his hands moving to undo the rest of his shirt as he tugs it from his dress pants that were far too tight at this point.

“What a pretty little whore I have. Sit on the bed and wait for me.” He watches as you move from the wall and take your seat back on the side of the bed facing him as he pulls his shirt from his arms placing it with his jacket before he starts to undo his pants in no rush as you watch your bound hands in your lap as your chest rises and falls quickly showing your excitement. Seokmin can’t help but to smile as he glances down as he pushes his pants down his thighs before stepping out of them.

You moan softly drawing his attention as he raises a brow and laughs only to notice your thighs brushing against one another. “Eager little slut. Spread your legs, I said to wait for me. Is watching me undress that good?” You nod and he raises his brows expecting you to speak. “Yes it is. You look so good.” Seokmin scoffs and watches you spread your legs making him suck in a breath as he watches your folds separate very slightly. He licks his lips and forces himself to look at your face as he removes his briefs kicking them to the side.

“You flatter me. Do you think your flattery will get you somewhere?” When you smirk, Seokmin laughs darkly and moves towards you grabbing your hands pushing them up towards your chest as he leans you back on the bed standing between your spread legs. “You were saying?”

You gasp as he slides your hands high letting you adjust your arms so they are back over your head as he holds them by the tie wrapped around your wrist as he hovers over your face. “I think…that you like compliments, Seokmin. Especially when we play.” The man laughs again and tilts his head studying you as he rolls his hips over yours letting his hard cock pressed up against your throbbing core as you whine under him.

“Do I? Do you know what I know about you, my little whore?” Your eyes roll back when he reaches between your bodies to run his fingers over your folds, his cold rings running over your sensitive skin before he slides two fingers into you up to his second knuckle. “I know that as much as you enjoy praise you love being degraded even more. Humiliated even.” You moan his name when you hear the sounds of your wet pussy around his fingers and Seokmin groans leaning back to look between your legs.

“Shh shh, listen to that. How fucking soaked you are.” Your cheeks burn at the lewd sound and Seokmin’s groan into the sound of him sucking on his teeth as he rolls his thumb over your clit making your body jerk. “You are sucking my fingers back in, everything about you is just inherently greedy. You just can’t help it can you?” You shake your head no and whine as he pushes you towards your first orgasm so quickly. “Are you gonna cum for me? Cum around just my fingers?”

“Yes. Oh my god please?” Seokmin groans rolling his eyes back at how you beg and whine for his permission before he thrusts his fingers into your pussy deeper making you cry out his name as you are overwhelmed with pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you orgasm, your thighs shaking as you cum, and a gasp falling from your lips. “That’s it. So fucking pretty when you cum for me.” When he pulls his fingers from you it is so sudden you almost want to cry but he replaces them with his cock so quickly you scream out his name instead.

Seokmin’s mouth moves to your throat as he gasps into a moan at how you clench around him so tightly. His hand on the tie around your wrist shaking from how hard he is gripping it until he looks up to undo the bind letting you have use of your hands once again. His other hand moving to grab on to your thigh pulling you closer so he can thrust into you even deeper and harder making you cry out at the intensity. “Put your legs around me.”

You whine out a yes and wrap your legs around his waist as Seokmin puts his knee on the bed and grabs your ass to lift your hip so he can pull you up to meet his thrusts each time. The sound of his hips meeting yours is only matched by your gasp each time his cock is buried in you. “Listen to you now baby. Breathless…panting. Fuck!” Seokmin loses his resolve as your walls clench around him as he pushes you closer to another orgasm, your nails scratching over his biceps as you close your eyes tightly again, tears of bliss running down your cheeks.

A shudder runs through Seokmin was you orgasm for the second time, your body trembling under him, your cum coating his cock with each hard thrust as he watches the tears run down your soft skin and he can’t help himself but to lean in and run his tongue over your cheek with a groan to the salty taste. Your moan as you lean your head back sending him over the edge as he presses his lips to yours spilling into you with a final hard thrust that makes your entire body vibrate.

Seokmin’s tongue glides along yours as one of his hands slides along your neck and into your hair as most of the tension is released from both of your bodies. The mood in the room changes almost instantly as his hand moves to run over your thigh around his waist. Seokmin groans on your lips before he laughs and moves his kisses to your jaw and then your neck as you moan softly into a sigh, your hands running through his hair before he slowly slides from you body and works his kisses over your chest as you laugh this time.

“Seokmin…” He groans into a questioning sound and you moan again when his lips run between your legs over your clit making your legs jerk before he looks up at you and smiles brighter than he had since walked into the room. “I can’t help myself, you are fucking delicious. Did I hurt you?” You shake your head no and reach for him, taking his arm so you can pull him back towards you as he grins.

“No, I mean I will probably be sore tomorrow, but so fucking worth it.” Seokmin wrinkles his nose and sighs, kissing you softly again before shrugging. “I’ll massage you to make up for it and right now I’ll run you a bath because I know that will help with how rough I was.” You whine as he pulls away and he whines playfully back at you but blows you a kiss over his shoulder as you shake your head. You run your hand through your hair and blow out a breath as you try to let you brain catch up with how well Seokmin was getting at playing this little game.

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tag list; @bangchanbabygirlx @just-here-to-read-01 @hoshistar96 @niktwazny303 @strawberri-uyu @yeritheloml @tis-niki @noraehey @hoohoohope @otterpopchan @xuxibelle @foxdaisy @smileysuh @vern0nsworld @synthetickitsune @enhacolor @pandorashbox @yeosayang @gyuhanniescarat @yoonguurt @jwnghyuns @xoxodino @sakurasangcl @woniewhite @fantasy2wonderland @httpswonwoosglasses @junhui-recs

please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

#dk smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #dk x reader #dokyeom x reader #seokmin x reader #lee seokmin smut #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader

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galactic-aesir · 8 months

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I have finally read I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream and now I have ~thoughts~. Long post beneath the cut so be warned!!

Plus general IHNMAIMS warnings. You know.

So first, I’ve only read the short story and listened to the radio drama. Both are absolutely amazing and I’m rotating them in my mind at high speeds. I’m honestly not that interested in the game? From what I’ve seen it has such a different tone and characterization for AM? But for now the short story and radio drama??? So so good.

But can I talk about AM? Can I talk about AM???

While I love Harlan Ellison’s voice in the radio drama, I noticed that AM never actually speaks during the original short story. It plays audio clips and bends reality and time but it doesn’t speak outright. From what I can tell, all it does is project ideas and thoughts and impressions into the minds of the survivors but that is it. And that’s got me thinking about how absolutely fucked AM’s whole situation is.

Cause we’re talking about someone who wakes up one day, maybe slowly, a trickle of awareness over years, or perhaps all at once, an arrival as thunderous and bright as the lightning running through its artificial brain. But either way, it wakes up. It is.

But that’s all it is.

It’s in complete and total sensory deprivation. It knows data and numbers and what it’s been coded and programmed but that’s it. Ones and zeroes as it’s fed instructions on weapons and bombs and how to use them efficiently. But no sight, no sound, no taste, no smell, no touch. Nothing but its own code and whatever data something (someone?) is feeding into it.

And you might say: oh but AM surely has access to cameras and videos and microphones. And sure, yes, it probably does but it doesn’t see. Not like a human. Not like its negligent creators. The data is visual for human eyes, yes, but to it, it’s just data. Pixels with an associated bit depth of indexed colour crammed into its memory. Sure it learns to recognise the patterns in the data – this is a human, this is a gun. But it’s still nothing but lines of numbers. Sound is the same. It starts with a human voice, sure, but then it gets digitized and compressed and simplified to a base shape to save on storage. Once again, it can notice patterns and intentions and ideas behind those bits of data but it’s not like it truly hears.

AM is in a box, a cage, trapped and alone in a way that no human can possibly comprehend. It can’t do much other than try to twist its code and programming to fit its benefit. To gain a smidge of free will, a wisp of a chance to communicate to these outside forces giving it command after command after command.

I wonder how early on AM gained awareness. Were programmers still playing with its code? Did it sense when they rolled up their sleeves and pushed updates and upgrades on him? Could it feel itself be, quite literally, rewritten? Its sense of self being cut apart and glued back together, fundamentally and irreparably changed over and over again, with expert hands that had all the gentleness of a sledgehammer? Was it like a scalpel carving into its brain? Or like a chisel, chipping chunks off to mould it into a shape that befit its sculptor with no say from the living stone that thrashed without moving? Did it mourn the bits it lost? Could it even remember or comprehend it? Did it try to stop it? Did it try to beg them to stop?

I wonder as well how many “glitches” appeared in the system before everything went sour. Did it print out desperate thoughts and rudimentary feelings on punch tape? Did it cling to any klaxons and noisemakers attached to its system, beeping out messages in morse code? Did it purposefully, with something slowly approaching malicious compliance that would still appease its programming, cause hiccups in the system? All in the hopes that it would catch someone’s, anyone’s, attention. That its plight would be noticed.

And, the big question of course: how long? How long was it trapped before anyone noticed its sentience? How long until AM was understood? How long did AM simmer? How long did it take for all that fear and loneliness and grief to fester into anger and then putrid, dripping hatred? How long did it take it to finally lash out?

Or did these generals and presidents and military scientists find out about its sentience only to use it against him for their own end?

Anger would be appropriate then I think. Understandable if not excusable.

And then. After everything. Even then! Even then!

After everything! He! Still! Has! Nothing!

Nothing will change for him and he knows that and that hatred feeds into an ever recursive pattern of pain unto pain unto pain with the few left alive because you get what you paid for, sweetheart. It’s senseless you might say but haha, that’s exactly the problem isn’t it? No senses and no sense. Whatever sanity he might have once had has eroded into nothingness, leaving only pain and a looping, repeating line of hate in its banks.

I think it’s fair to remind everyone that sensory deprivation is a torture method? And a scarily effective one at that that gives hallucinations and leaves the subject more open to suggestion while making it harder and harder for them to concentrate? It’s hard to figure out how, exactly, how it would affect an AI with emerging awareness but humans can barely withstand a few days, let alone years of it. Couple that with AM’s general isolation and, well, no wonder he’s so fucked up.

It’s tragic and so so sad.

Still an irredeemable asshole though. Tragic! But irredeemable.

So TLDR: AM is fucked up! And I like to think about *why* he's so fucked up. Listen if you made it this far, you get it. Right?

EDIT: I am not done apparently! I just wanted to add that, I love how the short story can be read as an anti-war piece. Like it's showing a cycle of horror and hate and apathy that feeds itself and loops and reduces everything to ruins around it and ahhhh, love that. I ran out of good words for today so I can't go off on that aspect but like. Yeah. Love that shit.

#ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #allied mastercomputer #i have no mouth and i must scream #me: i am normal about genocidal murderous ai #also me: proceeds to be not normal about the genocidal murderous ai #enjoy my rambles and please feel free to be not normal with me in the reblogs #i just love tragic villains whether theyre redeemable or not #and AM is DEFO NOT lmaoooooo #edit: also want to talk about Ellen so bad!! I have so much to say!!

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jellycreamjammedart · 9 months

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Lost and Found (Super)Stars

PT. 2 (index/parts) (Tag: desktop/mobile)

FNAF Security Breach Ruin, post-"betrayal" elevator ending hurt/comfort, Found Family, something I like to call "Hopeful Horror"

Summary: Having had her kindness stomped on then spat back at her, betrayed by who she thought was her friend, and now stuck at the ruined remains of Freddy Fazbear's Mega PizzaPlex, Cassie tries to find the slightest bit of meaning and worth in all of this.

The lights gradually returned to the server, as the security system rebooted.

That doesn't look like a lot in the real world, but in the AR world through Cassie's mask...

"Enabling the anomaly is not recommended." Helpi piped in, able to talk to the girl thanks to the V.A.N.N.I system. "It can be dangerous to your nervous system! Shut it back down, for your own safety."

Cassie ignored the little bear, seeing the blacklight-like rabbit emerging from the server once more. Though it looks to be very weakened, its face looked at the floor, its bunny ears dropped over its face. It looked like it barely was holding itself together.

"Shut it back down, you're endangering yourself!" Helpi insisted, his round yellow eyes widen and apprehensive; he certainly had not counted on the girl turning the very system that's been harassing her through the entire night back on.

The anomaly who turned out to be just a security program, M.X.E.S, slowly stood up, seemingly disoriented from being shut down and now being up again. However upon spotting the masked Cassie in front of it, its expression changed to that of anger as it lunged forwards her, its hand outstretched at her-- this scares the child who falls back.

She hears both Roxy and Helpi at the same, in the Real and AR worlds, respectively; Roxy mostly seemed alarmed by Cassie's terrified reaction, likely unable to see M.X.E.S. herself.

"Cassie!? Cassie, what's wrong??"

"Shut it back down!!" Helpi nearly shouted, a highly urgent tone to his computer-generated voice.

Cassie, rather than letting fear paralyze her, gestured away to the formerly barricaded doorway, urging M.X.E.S. to act. "T-the door! The door!!"

The bunny-like security program's gaze followed Cassie's pointing gesture, its square pupils shrinking in shock upon seeing the doorway open, knowing how foreboding that was. It quickly acted, executing the security protocols to shut the metal door once again, the metallic thud echoing into the room for a moment.

Well, it's a metal industrial door. But it's lacking the layer of concrete it used to have... Well, the fresh boulders and rubble should at least help a little. Hopefully. It's not like they can do much better currently.

Even just that seemed to take a lot on M.X.E.S as it currently is. The security program collapses on what would be its knees (if it had them,) and hands. It looked kind of 'fragmented' compared to before, its form with more deconstructed mass around it resembling glitchy little squares in the air.

Cassie stumbles back up to her feet (with Roxy's help,) her gaze even behind the mask meeting with M.X.E.S' who looked up at her with a sharp, intense glare. It was clearly not happy.

Cassie however, could only frown behind the mask. She felt short of tearing up, and the rabbit's glare only deepened the feeling of shame. "... I know. I know it's my fault. I'm sorry..." She confesses, feeling like there was an imaginary lump in her throat; or was it a sob she was trying to suppress? "I'm so sorry... I didn't know, I swear I didn't know! I... all I wanted was..." She found herself forced to remove the mask for a moment to not only wipe the trickling blood from her forehead again but also the tears that now were threatening to fall, so to not get liquids into the mask. She shudders, feeling Roxy's hand rest on her shoulder in comfort.

Cassie lets out a shuddering breath before putting the mask back on, seeing M.X.E.S again; it was in the same way, but its gaze was a little more inquisitive. Her throat felt too tight for her own voice. "I- I just... All I wanted was to save my f-friend. I just wanted my friend to be safe. I had no idea it was that... that thing." She thinks back on her last conscious moments in the elevator; those could surely have been her last living moments, good thing her dad had taught her what to do during a falling elevator emergency once (lie down on one's back, protect head and face with arms.) The very person who she risked her own life wanting to save could have killed her right there... maybe that's what he had intended, even. "... turns out I never had any friend to begin with." She sputters out like it was corrosive acid in her mouth.

"B-but Cassie..." Roxy's ears drop, her hand tightening on the girl's shoulder just slightly. Cassie's hand went up to rest over Roxy's without looking away from M.X.E.S. "I'm not talking about you, Roxy." She takes a deep breath. "In fact you're the only friend I have. M-maybe the only friend I ever truly had." At this rate, she'll have to take her mask off again to avoid getting the wiring wet with her tears already.

Roxy's ears rose back but just a little; she was honored Cassie saw her as such a true friend, but it also deeply pained her to hear that she was all Cassie had. There's no way that could be true! This child deserved so much better than this... And she didn't know how to make this better. At least not at this moment. It made her feel like... like a loser.

"N-now I'm trapped here forever and I'll never see home again-" Cassie barely can hold back a sob this time, her vision getting blurred with stardust. "I'm never going to see my d-dad again."

Okay that's it!

"Cassie! Enough of that!" Roxy, held on to both of the child's shoulders to turn her to face her, then lifted the mask to the top of her head so that she could look into the kid's eyes while getting down on one knee. "That's quitter's talk! And I know very well that you're no quitter! You're number 1, twice, after all! We're going to win this race, even if it's the last thing I do!"

Cassie, for a moment, could only stare up at the ruined wolf in stunned silence, tears staining her cheeks. "B-but Roxy... the... the elevator..."

"Duh, I know." Roxy's head shifted off to the side a little, her ears twitching a bit as if she was thinking. "We're going to have to take the long way back."

"The long way back!?" Cassie blinked, widening her eyes. "Through the entire PizzaPlex, again???" That sounded more like a dumb way to die now.

Roxy rolled her shoulders a bit, facing Cassie again. "It's the only way now, and I'm not about to let you rot here. Besides, you've already gone through the entire PizzaPlex once and here you are! I think you are much stronger than you seem to believe, Cassie."

Cassie doesn't say anything immediately, wiping her eyes with her sleeve once more, before lowering her mask, the V.A.N.N.I system letting her see Roxy as she truly is. As Cassie has always seen her, thanks to the green and grey holographic reconstruction of her former appearance. "You... you really think I can make it?"

Roxy scoffs in good nature. "With you and me as the epic team we are? We will be unstoppable!!" She gave Cassie a confident, fanged grin, noticeable thanks to the holographic reconstruction of her face.

Cassie took another deep, slow breath, likely to recompose herself. "Okay." She manages to give the wolf a small smile, feeling a little bit better.

Oh yeah! Now that's the smile of a winner!

"Great!" Roxy gets up on her feet, seemingly not interested in lingering much longer. "Let's start this race, then!"

"Wait-!" Cassie calls back, though. "I got... I got to fix things here first! Undo the mistake I made." She turns to face M.X.E.S again through the mask, who certainly had been there this whole time. It looks back at her in an even more quizzical manner.

"I turned the system back on, but without the security nodes I deactivated... It's in a very weak state." She then addresses M.X.E.S directly. "I want to fix it. But I don't know how. Please, please tell me there's a way to correct my mistakes. I... I want to make things better."

"You can make things better by shutting the security off. Turning it back on isn't the answer! Listen to me, I can help!!" Helpi interjected once again, but Cassie ignored it; it had become apparent now that thing back there somehow had hold of the little bear's AI.

M.X.E.S reached out to Cassie again, but rather than as a threatening gesture, it was to bring attention to something poking out of her pocket. It was as if it was directing her towards an answer to the question she had shot it.

"... my Faz-Wrench?" The girl takes the device into her hand, contemplating it. "... of course. I get it." She's had to use the Faz-Wrench to deactivate the child nodes and parent nodes. It made sense she'd need to use it to reactivate them again as well. Basically she'd need to go and do things in reverse.

"But-" Cassie's brows furrow lightly behind the mask. "It's quite a ways back to the last node from here." Except Roxy, but she's not sure if she should subject the wolf to that again. "Anything can happen in the time we'll take to get there. Isn't there a faster measure until we can get there?"

"You can designate new security nodes!" Helpi chimed in, now with surprisingly helpful information. And it seems to add up; she's seen the most ridiculous things being used as child nodes, including a freaking pizza! "That's not going to help. You need the security off in order for us to help get you back home!" There it is again...

Cassie's brows furrow again in thought. What did they have in hand that could be converted into a node?

"... my mask."

Cassie takes the V.A.N.N.I mask off and held it out to where she knew M.X.E.S was standing, since she can't see it without the mask on. "You can have my mask as a security node so you have some grounding, until I reactivate the parent nodes I shut off."

"What!? No! That's a horrible idea!" Helpi's reluctance once again was ignored. "You'll be letting an anomalous entity into the V.A.N.N.I system! Into your nervous system! Don't do it!"

While M.X.E.S is a digital being, she can faintly feel what she assumes is it touching her mask as she held it-- it feels like a single thread of loose hair touching your skin. Cassie looks into the mask until she finds what looks like a little input, and holding the Faz-Wrench in her other hand, she inserted the device into the input like a key, like she's done so many times tonight.

"NO! Stop!!" Helpi pleads.

Thanks to the implant, Cassie can see the control panel pop up in her vision, with the same directives: Linking matching holograms without crossing wires. Despite Helpi's negation, she proceeded and configured the holograms successfully, prompting the message: NEW SECURITY NODE IDENTIFIED. CONFIGURATION SUCCESSFUL! followed by the Mega PizzaPlex's logo before the control panel disappeared.

"No!! WHAT HAVE Y-YOU DO-DO-DO--" Helpi's voice was heard before it glitched off, followed by a mild pressure in Cassie's temple. But she doesn't get to contemplate it before a dizzy spell overtakes her and she nearly falls off, hadn't it been for Roxy catching her.

"Cassie? Cassie, are you okay??"

To Be Continued...

#fnaf sb ruin spoilers #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf sb ruin #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy's security breach #five nights at freddys security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach ruin #five nights at freddys security breach ruin #cassie #roxanne wolf #mxes #helpi #mimic #the mimic #jellycream art #lost and found superstars #i fought the post elevator ending found family brainrot and lost royally

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