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writeriguess · 5 months ago

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Heya! May i have a Mandalorian x fem!reader? She's like his mechanic or something but she's also very attached to Grogu and is very caring towards them both. Maybe they're out somewhere and are attacked and reader gets hurt protecting Grogu and Din realizes how much he cares for her?

author's note: Thank you so much for requesting <3

A Home Among the Stars

The hiss of pressurized air filled the workshop as you carefully adjusted the hydrospanner in your hand. Your fingers danced over the controls, tightening bolts along the Razor Crest’s engine panel. Despite the old ship’s wear and tear, it had a charm that only a mechanic could appreciate—or someone who spent hours trying to keep it in the sky.

And that someone was you.

“Din,” you called out, wiping your grease-covered hands on your pants. You didn’t care about appearances when it came to your work. “When’s the last time you actually replaced the heat shielding? This thing’s held together with spit and hope.”

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian clad in his beskar armor, leaned against the entryway, arms crossed. His helmet tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could almost feel his sheepishness.

“It works,” he said simply, voice smooth and modulated.

You rolled your eyes, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, well, it won’t for long if you keep running it into blaster fire and letting Jawas ‘fix’ it with spare parts.”

A soft coo interrupted your lecture, and you glanced to the side to find Grogu perched on a crate, watching you intently. His big eyes sparkled with curiosity as his tiny hands fiddled with a stray bolt you’d left lying around.

“And you,” you said, smiling warmly as you crouched in front of him. “That’s not a toy, little guy.”

Grogu tilted his head, holding the bolt up as if in protest.

“Don’t encourage him,” Din muttered, stepping closer.

Ignoring the bounty hunter, you gently took the bolt from Grogu’s hands, replacing it with a small, smooth rock you kept in your pocket. It was something you’d found on one of your countless scavenging trips—a perfect fit for tiny hands.

“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over Grogu’s cheek. “Much better.”

The child made a happy sound, clutching the rock tightly. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your chest warming with a tenderness you hadn’t felt in years.

“You spoil him,” Din said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

You straightened, shooting him a look. “And you don’t?”

Din shrugged. “He’s—”

“Special,” you finished for him. “I know. And he deserves to be treated that way.”

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the hum of the ship and Grogu’s contented babbling filling the air.

“You’re good with him,” Din said eventually, his voice quieter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. “He’s easy to love,” you replied, glancing at Grogu. “Both of you are.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately busied yourself with your tools, pretending you hadn’t just bared your soul in the middle of an engine repair.

Din didn’t respond right away, and the weight of his gaze felt almost tangible. You wondered what thoughts were running through his mind behind that expressionless helmet.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You looked up, surprised. His stance had relaxed slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you felt the sincerity in his words.

“Anytime,” you said, giving him a small smile.

The planet was quiet, almost too quiet, as you followed Din through the narrow, winding paths of the market. It was the kind of place that seemed like it had more shadows than people, where eyes lingered too long and conversations hushed when strangers passed. Din walked ahead, his hand resting lightly on the blaster at his hip, while Grogu cooed softly from his floating pod beside you.

“Stick close,” Din said, his voice low but firm. He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could tell from the slight tilt of his helmet that he was checking on you regardless.

“I always do,” you replied, scanning the area. The market stalls were packed with all sorts of strange goods: glowing crystals, exotic fruits, scraps of tech you couldn’t identify. Despite the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

Grogu made a delighted sound as you passed a stall selling shiny trinkets, his little hands reaching out toward the wares.

“No,” Din said immediately, his tone that of a long-suffering parent.

“Oh, come on,” you said, smiling as you reached into your pocket. “It’s just a little shiny thing. Let him have it.”

Din sighed, but he didn’t stop you as you handed over a few credits to the vendor and picked up a small metal orb. You placed it in Grogu’s hands, and his wide eyes sparkled with joy as he turned it over, inspecting it like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“You’re going to spoil him rotten,” Din muttered.

“That’s the goal,” you shot back, grinning.

The Mandalorian shook his head, but you could see the faintest tilt of his helmet that suggested amusement.

The moment of levity didn’t last long. A sharp noise—a blaster bolt cutting through the air—shattered the peace of the market. Din moved before you even processed what was happening, his blaster drawn and his body positioned protectively in front of you and Grogu.

“Get to cover,” he barked, his voice tense.

You didn’t argue. Scooping Grogu’s pod closer to you, you ducked behind a stack of crates, your heart pounding in your chest.

The attackers came into view a moment later—three figures clad in mismatched armor, their weapons raised. You didn’t recognize them, but their intent was clear.

“Hand over the kid,” one of them growled, his voice distorted by a crude helmet.

“Not happening,” Din replied coldly.

Blaster fire erupted, the sound deafening in the confined space. Din moved with precision, returning fire and taking down one of the attackers in seconds. But the others were quick, flanking him and forcing him to retreat closer to your position.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the small blaster Din had insisted you carry. You weren’t a fighter, not like him, but you weren’t about to sit idly by while he and Grogu were in danger.

Grogu whimpered, clutching the shiny orb you’d given him, and your resolve hardened. You shifted to shield his pod with your body, your eyes scanning for an opening.

One of the attackers broke away, heading straight for you.

“Din!” you shouted, but he was too occupied with the other assailant to intervene.

You didn’t think. You didn’t have time to. As the attacker raised his weapon, you lunged forward, firing your blaster. The shot went wide, but it was enough to throw him off. He snarled, swinging his rifle like a club. The impact caught you in the side, and pain exploded through your ribs as you hit the ground hard.

“Stay away from him!” you gasped, struggling to your feet.

The attacker ignored you, his focus locked on Grogu. Adrenaline surged through you, overriding the pain, and you threw yourself between them just as he raised his rifle again. The butt of the weapon struck your shoulder, sending you sprawling.

“Hey!” Din’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and furious.

Before the attacker could land another blow, Din was there. His blaster fired point-blank, dropping the man instantly.

The last assailant, realizing he was outmatched, fled, leaving the market eerily quiet once more.

Din turned to you, his helmet tilting as he took in your crumpled form.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice tight.

“I’m fine,” you lied, wincing as you tried to sit up.

“You’re not fine.” He was already kneeling beside you, his gloved hands hovering uncertainly before settling on your arm. “Why didn’t you stay behind cover?”

You glanced at Grogu, who was peering out of his pod with a worried expression. “I couldn’t let them hurt him,” you said simply.

Din was silent for a moment, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. Then, without a word, he scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

“Din—”

“Quiet,” he interrupted, his voice softer now but still firm. “We’re leaving.”

Grogu’s pod floated along beside him as he carried you back toward the Razor Crest, his stride purposeful.

Back on the ship, Din set you down carefully on the small cot in the corner of the hull. He moved with an efficiency that spoke of experience, pulling out a medkit and sitting beside you.

“Let me see,” he said, gesturing to your side.

“I told you, I’m fine—”

“Let me see,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You sighed, relenting as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the bruises blooming across your ribs. Din’s hands stilled for a moment before he reached out, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examined the injury.

“You’re reckless,” he said quietly, though there was no anger in his voice—only something softer, something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, earning a faint huff of amusement from him.

His gloved fingers lingered on your skin for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, reaching for a bacta patch. As he applied it, you noticed how careful he was, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

“Why would you do that?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Do what?”

“Put yourself in danger like that.”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I care about him. About both of you.”

Din stilled, his helmet tilted down toward you. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt the intensity of his gaze all the same.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“I did,” you said softly. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, Din reached up and rested his gloved hand on top of yours.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with a depth of emotion you hadn’t heard before.

Later, you sat on the cot in the hull, your back pressed against the cool metal wall, a blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The dull ache in your ribs had subsided slightly thanks to the bacta patch Din applied earlier, but the events of the day lingered like a storm cloud in your mind.

Grogu sat beside you on the cot, cooing softly as he fiddled with the shiny orb you'd given him earlier. Every now and then, he glanced up at you, his wide, soulful eyes filled with concern. You stroked the soft fuzz on his head absentmindedly, letting his quiet presence soothe you.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke your reverie. Din emerged from the cockpit, his armor catching the dim light as he made his way toward you. He stopped a few paces away, his helmet tilted slightly downward, as if he were unsure how to approach.

“You should be resting,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though you knew the strain in your voice betrayed you.

“You’re not,” he said, taking another step closer. He gestured to the bruises on your side. “That’s going to take time to heal. You should stay off your feet for a while.”

“And what about you?” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you rested?”

He didn’t answer, his helmet tilting slightly as if to avoid your gaze.

“Exactly,” you said, shaking your head. “Don’t lecture me about rest when you’re just as bad at it.”

Din sighed, the sound soft but unmistakable. He stepped closer, lowering himself onto the bench across from you. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of the ship filling the space between you.

“Why did you do it?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—something raw.

“Do what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“Put yourself in danger for him. For us.”

You glanced down at Grogu, who was now chewing on the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “Because I care,” you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Din didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His helmet was angled toward the floor, but you could feel the weight of his gaze even if you couldn’t see his eyes.

“I’ve seen people do reckless things for credits, for revenge, for power,” he said slowly. “But you… You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even think about yourself.”

“I thought about Grogu,” you said, your tone firmer now. “And about you. I couldn’t just sit back and let something happen to either of you.”

His shoulders stiffened slightly, and you wondered if you’d said too much. But then he spoke again, his voice softer this time.

“You could’ve been killed.”

“I know.”

“And you’d do it again.”

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I would.”

Din leaned back against the wall, his gloved hands resting on his thighs. He stayed silent for a long moment, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.

You frowned, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my job to protect him,” he said, his tone almost bitter. “And you. I should’ve been faster, better. You shouldn’t have had to step in.”

The guilt in his voice was palpable, and it twisted something in your chest. You leaned forward, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.

“Din, you can’t be everywhere at once,” you said gently. “You did everything you could. You always do.”

He didn’t pull away from your touch, but his posture remained rigid. “It’s not enough,” he murmured.

“It is,” you insisted. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re a team, aren’t we? You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

He finally turned his helmet toward you, the reflective surface catching the faint light of the hull. “A team,” he repeated, as if testing the word.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “And a team watches out for each other. That’s what I was doing. Watching out for you and Grogu.”

Grogu chose that moment to coo softly, reaching out with his tiny hands to touch Din’s armored knee. The gesture seemed to break through some of the tension, and Din let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“You spoil him,” he said, though his tone lacked any real admonishment.

“Someone has to,” you replied with a grin.

Din fell quiet again, but this time the silence felt different—less heavy, more contemplative. He reached out, gently brushing his gloved fingers over Grogu’s ear, eliciting a delighted squeal from the child.

“He cares about you,” Din said, his voice warm. “More than I’ve seen him care about anyone else.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard before answering. “I care about him, too. And you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than you intended. Din’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he were studying you, and your heart raced under his scrutiny.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice quiet but certain.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. Before you could say anything, Din rose to his feet, his movements fluid and deliberate. He reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder—a brief, almost hesitant gesture, but one that sent warmth spreading through you.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Din—”

“Please,” he added, cutting you off.

The word caught you off guard. You nodded slowly, leaning back against the cot as Grogu snuggled closer to your side. Din lingered for a moment longer before turning and walking back toward the cockpit, his steps heavy but purposeful.

As the door hissed shut behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Grogu made a soft, contented sound, and you stroked his head absently, your thoughts spinning.

Din’s words echoed in your mind, mingling with the unspoken emotions you’d seen in his actions. There was something there—something deeper than duty, something neither of you were ready to name.

For now, you let it be.

Feel free to request <3

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin oneshot #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian imagine

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nectar-cellar · 1 year ago

Text

Downtown Roles Mod Tutorial - TS3 - Mature Gameplay Ideas

NSFW 18+ mature content / a long read

TLDR: this is a compilation/recommendation list of mods, a tutorial on how to set up NPCs, and how to tie it all together to add some mature gameplay to your save. 😈

Misukisu/Virtual Artisan had a “Downtown Roles” mod that sadly does not work anymore for the latest versions of TS3. Her mod basically allowed players to add role sims to community lots so your sims could have more NPCs to interact with, making the lots feel more alive in a mature "downtown" sort of way.

I was inspired by her mod and I want to share how you can recreate and expand her mod’s functions with Nraas Register and Arsil’s Custom Generic Role mod. Some players might already know how these mods work, but it was a new discovery for me. I didn’t know how useful role sims could be! It got the gears in my dirty mind turning.

The main purpose of this mod list/tutorial: to add role sims to community lots for your main sims to interact with, while they’re out on the town. These will be sims outside of your household. Their main “job” is to hang out at the lot. You can let the game generate new sims to fill these roles, or assign existing sims in the town to fill the roles.

Examples of role sims you can create:

A regular patron at a dive bar for your sim to befriend or make enemies with.

A sexy single sim at a beach, gym, pool, bar or club for your sim to mingle and hook up with.

An escort at a brothel for your sim to woohoo with (Passion mod).

A client for your sim to sell drugs/weapons to (MonocoDoll Vile Ventures mod and Arms Dealing mod) - I have not tested this but in theory it should work.

You can add multiple role sims on each lot. You could have a number of partygoers on a club lot/a number of escorts on a brothel lot/a number of mobsters or criminals on a warehouse lot who will always be there when your sim visits.

Why role sims?

Townies are unpredictable - you never know which lot they’ll show up on, and how long they’ll stay. Role sims will consistently be there as the supporting characters in your main sim’s story.

Having consistent NPCs at certain locations around town can help with story-driven gameplay scenarios.

You can move a household of your own sims into town and assign them to fill various roles. See pretty NPCs around town!

If you let the game generate new sims for the roles, then it saves you the hassle of setting up new households yourself. You can always edit them later in CAS.

Limitations:

According to Arsil, it seems like sims who are already employed (such as most townies) will be removed from their jobs if they are assigned to be role sims. So I would avoid using any employed townies for this unless you are ok with that. Use unemployed residents instead.

I believe the role sim cannot leave the lot during the designated work hours. Your sim cannot form a group with them and go to another venue. However, you can invite the sim over or hang out afterwards from the relationship panel.

Mods Needed:

Nraas Master Controller + Integration Module

Nraas Register

Arsil‘s Custom Generic Role mod (both the floor marker and the desk)

Passion (if you want your sim to be able to have sex with the role sims on the lot or have the role sims dance on the stripper pole)

MonocoDoll’s Vile Ventures mod (if you want to create NPC clients for your sim to sell to)

MonocoDoll’s Arms Dealing mod (if you want to create NPC clients for your sim to sell to)

How to Set Up:

Step 1: Install the mods listed above. Then, open the save file you want to add some downtown sleaze to.

Step 2: Find a community lot you want to add role sims to. This could be a bar, nightclub, brothel/motel/strip club, a run-down warehouse or block of buildings, casino, etc. I have downloaded many lots from Flora2 at ModtheSims and @simsmidgen here on Tumblr that fit the gritty urban vibe.

Step 3: Enter Build/Buy mode. You can do this from Live mode.

Press Ctrl + Shift + C, enter this cheat: testingcheatsenabled true

Press the Shift key and click on the ground of the community lot.

Click on “Build on this lot”.

You can also enter Edit Town mode to renovate the community lot.

Step 4: Place Arsil’s Custom Generic Role floor marker or desk on the lot. Place one for each role sim you want to create. They are located in Build Mode -> Community Objects -> Misc. If the desk looks out of place, use the floor marker instead.

Step 5: In Live mode, click on the object -> Settings to set:

The name of the role (clubgoer/stripper/escort/mobster/etc.)

The “work” hours the sim will be on the lot for

The days off

The motives to freeze or not (I recommend freezing all the motives to avoid interactions being interrupted/sims complaining due to low motives)

If the sim you want to assign to the role already lives in town, click on the object -> Nraas -> Register -> Select -> Choose criteria -> select the sim from the list. I would avoid choosing any employed townies as they may lose their job when switching to this role. Choose unemployed residents to avoid conflicts.

Remove assigned roles: click on the object to remove the sim from the role.

Step 6: In Live mode, click on City Hall -> Nraas -> Register

Allow immigration: choose whether you want new sims to be moved into town to take the roles (enable this if you want the game to generate new sims for the roles)

Allow immigration = False: if you set this option to false, then a new option called "Find Empty Roles" should appear. You can then assign any sim to the role object you placed, from City Hall.

Allow resident assignment: choose whether you want existing unemployed townies to be randomly assigned to fill the roles (I recommend to disable this. I had Buster Clavell show up to work at my strip club. NO!)

Pay per hour: I'm not sure how to adjust the pay for each custom role but you can just leave it at the default or change it globally

Remove roles: click on the object to remove the sim from the role, or click on City Hall -> Nraas -> Register -> Global Roles -> Remove by sim

Step 7: In Live mode, give the game some time to generate the role sims. Visit the community lot and have a look at your new role sims. The role sims should autonomously interact with other sims and objects on the lot. Using Nraas Master Controller, you can take the sim into CAS to give them a makeover, edit their traits, or replace them with a sim from your sim bin.

Step 8: Make your sim interact with the shiny new role sims and play out the storylines you always wished were possible. Public hookups, functioning brothels, selling drugs and guns - this is what The Sims 3 was made for, baby!!!

Related Mods:

Arsil’s Exotic Dancer Stage - if you have a club community lot, you can use this mod to hire dancers. You can use role sims to add other NPCs to the club such as guests, shady business sims, or non-dancer sex workers.

Nraas Relativity - this handy mod can slow down the speed of time so your sim can spend more time doing their "activities"

Nraas Woohooer - if you don’t want the explicit sex animations from Passion, you could use this mod instead to provide more woohoo options.

Passion - for brothels/strip clubs, this mod will add sex animations and the ability to have role sims dance on the stripper pole.

MonocoDoll’s Vile Ventures mod and Arms Dealing mod - you can use role sims to create more clients for your sim to sell drugs and weapons to, like different individuals/gangs/mobs. You could have different clients hanging out at different spots in the city.

LazyDuchess Lot Population - this mod populates community lots with townies, and they can interact with the role sims you’ve created.

Service Sims Out on the Town - this pushes service sims to visit community lots, to add even more variety to your crowds.

Conclusion

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. Please let me know if you try out this style of gameplay, and if you have ideas for more role sims and community lots to make. This tutorial was NSFW-oriented but you could easily adapt it to create NPCs for SFW community lots.

#s3cc #ts3cc #the sims 3 #ts3

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orcasoul · 3 months ago

Text

Falling Hard

Summary: Both you and Din have been dancing around your obvious feelings for far too long, much to Grogu's frustration.

Warinings: None, just fluff, and Grogu being an adorable little menace, as usual. Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1, 486

This is just a silly, fluffy little idea I got after watching Mandalorian season 1 Ep7 where Grogu takes control of the Razor Crest and sends the ship rocking, don't ask, I just had to do this... 🙈

"Dank Farrick," you curse in frustration. No matter how hard you pull, this effing panel just won't come lose on this hunk of junk Razor Crest. For almost twenty minutes you've been struggling, building a sweat, but you really don't want to have to ask for help. The last time Mando had to get close to you it was almost impossible to concentrate; his smell, his body heat, just his aura made you want want to melt into a puddle. To say you have a crush is an understatement!

And even though you're 99% sure Mando feels something for you too, you're just too shy to find out, the fear of that 1% forcing you to keep your feelings hidden. "Urrgh, come on!" It's no use and now your fingertips are raw from prying the stubborn panel. Groaning internally, both from frustration and from the torture you're about to put yourself through you call out, "Mando? Could you come down here and help me out?"

Din heard your voice carry from the hull while sitting with Grogu in the cockpit. The little guy sat surrounded by his many plushie toys, making some float and some fight. "Be there, now," he called back before turning to Grogu. "I'll be right back, Pal," Din tickled his sons' ear. "Be good and don't touch anything." "Patu," Grogu babbled in response, watching Din descend to the hull. The moment he was alone, Grogu's attention went straight to the control panel, a devilish idea forming in his mind....

*****

Entering the hull, Din finds you struggling with the same panel you'd been working on since take off. You're in a wide leg stance, butt jutting out and Din can't keep his eyes from following the curve of your body. "I could use an extra pair of hands with this... kriffin thing," you huff, pulling the panel to no avail. Din forces back his chuckle; maker you're adorable when you get all wound up. Din walks up behind you, placing a hand at your hip to move you out of the way. "Scoot over, Cyar'ika. I've got this," he crooned through his modulator.

Butterflies erupted in your tummy at the sensation of Mando's hand on your hip, all coherent thought abandoning you. That is until he rips the panel off in one pull. "Twenty minutes I've been fighting with that blasted thing and you get it off in two seconds! No fair!" you moan, but your voice carries more amusement than annoyance. Mando just shrugs while tilting his helmet to the side, mock arrogance oozing from him. "Just gotta have the strength for this stuff."

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk spreading over your face. "Well, if you're the brawn that must make me the brains." Mando rests his hands on his hips, and you just now he's smiling under his helmet. "I don't know about that," he teases. You match his posture, about to give a witty comeback when suddenly the entire ship violently jolts to the side, throwing Mando's huge frame into you, sending the both of you into the wall.

Quick as lightening Mando's hand cups the back of your head to cushion the impact against the wall, his other hand grabbing at the wall for stability. In any other scenario, having Mando's whole body pressed up against yours would have short circuited your brain, but fear is the main response right now. "Hey, kid!" Mando shouts over his shoulder as he scrambles to regain his footing. Loose cargo crates scrape along the floor, bric a brac fall from shelves and storage nets and the alarms blaze as you and Mando slip and slide your way to the ladder. "What the hell is he doing?!" you yelped while holding onto the bounty hunters' arm.

With great difficulty you clamber up the ladder after Mando, practically tumbling into the cockpit. Gorgu is in the pilot seat, squealing and giggling as he thrashes the joystick erratically from side to side, all the while watching you both fall about the place. "Grogu! What did I... tell you about... not touching anything?!" Mando sputtered as he pushed his way to the pilot chair. Grogu pulled the joystick back, purposely sending him crashing into you.

You are both a tangle of limbs now as you roll about the floor. Just as sudden as the chaos started it settled down, with you now on top of Mando, your face less than an inch from his black visor. Time seems to have frozen as you find yourself transfixed by the close proximity to the man you've been fantasizing of for months and, maker, his hands are on your hips again, gripping like there's no tomorrow.

Din has forgotten how to breathe! How did this happen?! How did you end up sprawled out over him just like he'd seen so many times in his dreams? Good gods, you feel incredible, so soft, so delicate, your hands pressed against his breastplate steadying yourself. Thank the force you can't see his blazing cheeks right now. Oh, but he can see yours; in fact his helmet is picking up the unmistakable rise in body temperature as you look at him with blown pupils. The spell is suddenly broken by the sounds of lips smacking together, both of you snapping your heads to the pilot seat, which has spun to face you.

Grogu is now holding two of his plushies in front of him, bumping their faces together and making kissy noises, stopping now and then to point at you both, then resuming the same action. Omg, the little stinker! Has it been that obvious that even Grogu could see how you both felt? Guess you did a crap job at keeping your feelings hidden after all. You slowly climb off Mando, resting on your knees beside him as he sits up. His helmet turns from Grogu to you and right now you're not sure if it's a blessing or a curse that you can't see his face. What do you even say? Grogu points at you both again, making an almost annoyed sound as if to say 'for goodness sake just tell each other how you feel already!'

Now there's no avoiding it, that much is obvious. You look from Grogu to Mando who's now rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "I uh... think he's trying to tell us something!" Mando whispered awkwardly. "And what's that?" you ask, hesitantly. Mando exhales, slowly. "I think you know, Cyare." "I think I know too but I need to hear you say it," you smile, uncertainty in your eyes. Din knows it's now or never, and he also knows how shy you can be so he has to make the first move, even if he's not used to expressing his feelings.

"I like you..." he blurts out, cringing inwardly as he confesses. Couldn't he do any better than that? He tries again, "I like you Y/N, more than a friend. You're passionate and smart and funny, and so beautiful. I really like you. I have for a long time now." Din's heart beats wildly as he lays it all on the table. He's faced many enemies and deadly situations countless times, but this moment has to be one of the most terrifying moments of his life. However his nerves soon relax as he sees the beaming smile breaking out across your face. "I like you too, Mando, so much!"

Mando cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb gently over your blushing skin. "Din..." he whispers. "What?" you ask, still smiling although somewhat confused. "That's my name, Din Djarin." "Din Djarin..." you breathed quietly, almost reverently. It's such a beautiful name and more importantly, he actually shared it with you! This is big. "I really like you too Din. I care for you, more than I have for any other man, and I want to be with you." Din's entire posture loosens as you say those words, the weight of uncertainty draining from him and leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling in it's place.

Still holding your cheek, he pulls you closer, lowering his head to gently rest his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes and basking in one another. "I want that more than anything," Din purrs. An excited squeal erupts from the chair, two little green hands clapping together. Chuckling, you pull away from Din and scoop Grogu into your arms, cradling him between the both of you.

"Guess we have this little matchmaker to thank," you grin, booping his nose. "I guess we do," Din laughed. "But the next time you have a point to make try doing it in a less dramatic manner, you little womp rat." Grogu gurgled up at Din, his little toothy grin melting your heart. You pressed your forehead against Din's once more. You're finally a clan of three.

@negrita2345 @imherefordeanandbones @missadangel @pickettniffler

#the mandolarian #pedro pascal fandom #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x you #mando x grogu #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din x reader #grogu #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #grogu fanart #grogu djarin #din x grogu

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scary-grace · 3 months ago

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certain stars - a shigaraki x reader fic

Nothing in your training prepared you for this: A deadly virus that burnt through Space Station Ultra, leaving only two survivors -- you, and Mission Specialist Shigaraki, trapped together in the command module. With time, food, and life-support running out, you have a choice about how you'll spend your final hours. You just wish you had any idea what you're supposed to do.

This is for @shigarakislaughter (happy birthday!) who asked for a forced-proximity roommates to lovers situation. Being me, I had to make it weird, and being one of my fics, it had to get away from me. I'm posting part 1 now so you'll have it for your birthday, and part 2 as soon as it's done! Shigaraki x reader, rated M, space station au, angst + suggestive content. dividers by @cafekitsune.

You stare out the windscreen, into the darkness. As empty as what lies before you is, a pure black void pierced here and there by distant stars, it’s less disturbing than what lies on the other side of Station Ultra’s rotation – Earth, wrapped in clouds, brown and green and blue. It’s only four hundred kilometers below you, no distance at all when compared to vastness of space beyond your high orbit, and yet it’s never felt further away.

It shouldn’t be. There’s nothing wrong with the space station, no malfunction that would prevent the shuttle docked to this very module from bringing you and your fellow astronauts home. It’s not a mechanical problem that’s keeping you here. And as if you needed a reminder, your control panel blips at you, the shipboard computer speaking up in its cool, mechanical voice. “Ventilation recycling complete for all compartments. Parts per million remains unchanged.”

You knew it would. Your heart still sinks. “Understood. Contact Mission Control.”

Mission Control picks up right away. Director Sasaki’s voice fills your headset. “Status?”

“I recycled the ventilation system in all compartments. Parts per million in the affected compartments hasn’t changed.”

“All other systems?”

“Normal,” you say. “Propulsion, auxiliary, heat-shield, life-support. It all works like it’s supposed to.”

“And what about you?” Sasaki asks. “Are you functional?”

You haven’t slept well in three weeks. You aren’t eating much, to conserve food, but even if you could eat as much as you wanted, you’d still be too stressed to be hungry. You’re getting claustrophobic in here. The air feels stale, even though you know it isn’t. “As functional as can be expected. Given everything that’s happened.”

“Yes,” Director Sasaki says after a moment. “This was not an outcome anyone could have predicted.”

Someone, somewhere must have, though. You’ve taken three trips up to Station Ultra since you graduated from the academy, and every time you’ve come back down, you’ve spent a month in quarantine, just to make sure you didn’t pick up any deadly space bacteria while you were in orbit. It was kind of a joke to you, like it was a joke to everybody. The vacuum of space is completely inhospitable, incompatible with any form of life. There’s no way anyone could come back to earth with a disease.

But a virus isn’t life, not the same way other things are. A virus could survive inert, waiting for the correct conditions to claim a host and multiply within them. Conditions like warmth and light and ample food. The kind of things that exist inside a space station. It came inside on Togata’s spacesuit, when he returned from a walk to fix some of the reflective tiles on the propulsor housing, and as soon as it touched air, it exploded to life.

You were in the command module, because it was your shift. By the time the viral load in the compartment was significant enough to trip the ventilation system’s alarms, it had already spread to six other modules, infecting everyone it found. You sealed off all the modules in response, isolating each ventilation system from the others. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.

You, and one other person. “What about Mission Specialist Shigaraki?” Director Sasaki asks. “Is he functional?”

“Close enough,” you say. Shigaraki’s been climbing the walls, but then again, this is his first trip into orbit. Most first-timers are anxious enough without being walled up in a single module, hiding from a virus that’s deadly on contact. “He’s sleeping right now.”

“I’d like to speak to him as well. Wake him up.”

You’d rather not. He’s been having a hard time settling down enough to sleep. Still, you’re not interested in getting busted by Control right now. “Right away.��

You pick up a pen, stand it upright in the air, then give it a flick, sending it rotating end over end across the compartment to bump against Shigaraki’s cheek. He’s a light sleeper. He jerks awake at once, grabbing for his mask. “Is it –”

“Everything’s fine,” you say, then wince. “Control wants to check in with you.”

“Don’t know what they want me to say.” Shigaraki rubs his eyes. “Same shit, different sol.”

“Then it’ll be a really short check-in.” You hold the headset out, and Shigaraki makes his way across the compartment to you. Station Ultra’s gravity is about a quarter of Earth’s, enough to make smaller objects float and enough to let Shigaraki get from his makeshift bed to you without touching the floor once. “Director Sasaki, he’s here.”

Shigaraki settles the headset over his tangled white hair, and you go back to staring out the windscreen, listening with half an ear. “It’s shit,” Shigaraki says, in response to whatever Sasaki just asked him. “I’m sick of listening to you all pretend we aren’t going to die up here.”

Your stomach clenches. You can’t hear Sasaki’s response, but Shigaraki’s comes through loud and clear. “You all are stupid if you’re thinking about taking that kind of risk. If this thing gets down there, everything’s fucked, so stop lying and figure out a way to off us both. Go to hell.”

He takes the headset off, ends the call, and tosses it back to you. “You were right. It was short.”

“I told him you were functional,” you say lamely. “Now he’s going to think you’ve got Pandorum or something.”

“We’d be better off with Pandorum than whatever got in here,” Shigaraki says. You’re expecting him to go back to bed, but instead he sits down next to you at the windscreen. “At least Pandorum fucks off once you’re planetside.”

He stares out the windscreen. You study him, like you’ve been doing when you get the chance. Out of all the crewmembers you could have picked to get stuck with at the beginning of the mission, you wouldn’t have chosen him. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy he’s here.

Shigaraki was a last-minute addition to the crew, after the mission specialist who was supposed to go caught the flu, and he was unhappy about it from the second he set foot on the shuttle. You don’t think anybody in the history of manned spaceflight has ever bitched about going into space as much as he did on the way up, but once you docked at Station Ultra, you figured out why in a hurry. He has motion sickness – bad – and short of being on a fishing trawler in the North Sea during a storm, there’s no worse place for that than a space station that orbits the earth while moving in a constant rotation. In his spot, you’d have bitched, too.

You tried to help him. Whenever you were on shift in the command module, you altered the gravity of whatever compartment he was in, trying to make it more like Earth’s and less like whatever his version of Hell is. You parted with most of your share of Dramamine, then all of it, hoping it would help. Maybe if you’d let him know you were doing it, he wouldn’t have been such a jackass to you – or maybe he’d have been exactly the same. Worse, even. Based on the way he snapped at people who asked after him, he doesn’t want anybody’s pity.

As far as mission specialists go, though, he’s great at his job, using the lack of signal interference in orbit to gather data from the most distant unmanned probes that have been sent out, ones that have been lost to contact on Earth for decades. Voyager, Pioneer, New Horizons, Odyssey, Earendil – all of them in interstellar space, all of them still transmitting. One time you wandered into the observation module on an off-shift and found him hunched over something, headphones clamped down over his ears. You knew better than to ask what he was listening to, but when he looked up and spotted you, he kicked out the chair next to his.

You were so surprised that you didn’t question it. You sat down, accepted the pair of headphones he pushed at you, and settled them over your ears, too. At first there was nothing but silence, the quiet of deep space without a hint of static. And then you heard it, so faint it was almost a mirage – soft humming, interspersed with high, clear notes that reverberate endlessly, overlapping with others before growing too distant to hear. It sent chills down your spine.

The two of you listened in silence for a long time, until even the humming faded away. You pulled off your headphones and turned to Shigaraki. “What was that?”

“Earendil’s been picking it up. This is the first time I caught more than a few seconds.” Shigaraki tapped something on his console, and a red light flickered off. He was recording. “It’s music.”

“From where?” you asked. “Aliens?”

Shigaraki shook his head. “It’s not a signal,” he said. “It’s something else. People used to theorize about it, back before science existed, but –”

“Musica universalis,” you said, and he nodded. “The music of the spheres. It’s real?”

“If that was what I think it is, yeah.” Shigaraki’s expression was thoughtful, softer than you’d seen it before. “Cool, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, even though it didn’t feel like the right word. Eerie. Awe-inspiring. Unreal. You watched as Shigaraki bent back over his console, pulling out an old-fashioned jump drive and feeding it into the nearest port. “Cool.”

It was hard to look away from him then. It’s hard to look away now, even though he’s the only person you’ve seen for weeks, the only person still alive in here with you. His white hair, which needs a trim. His red eyes, half-lidded as he looks out the window. The scars on his eye and his mouth, which you’ve wondered about but never asked after. You’ve got questions about him. And even though he’s right, even though you probably are going to die up here, you still can’t get it together enough to ask.

The two of you sit in silence until one of the alarms you’ve set goes off. You know what this one’s for. “Virus check,” you say, and Shigaraki nods. “Let’s get this over with.”

Every six hours, you check for signs of the virus. Temperature, pupil response, blood pressure, pulse oxygen level – and then a self-exam to make sure the pale splotches that signify infection aren’t anywhere on your bodies. The air in your module is clear, still, but you and Shigaraki still act like you’re in quarantine. Like at some point you’ll be declared virus-free and safe to go home.

Your vitals are normal. So are Shigaraki’s. “I was thinking,” he says as you put the blood pressure cuff away. “I’m pretty pale. I don’t know if I’d be able to pick out the spots on myself.”

“Do you want me to check for you?”

“We should check each other,” Shigaraki says. Your face heats up, and you look away. “Accountability or something. In case one of us gets infected and tries to hide it.”

“If one of us got infected, it would be too late for the other one,” you say. “Fine, though. Let’s check each other. I’m sick of trying to look at my own back without a mirror.”

You feel beyond awkward stripping down in front of Shigaraki, even though you leave your underwear on. He leaves his on, too. “I’ll check you first, since you’re the one who’s worried about it,” you say. “Turn around.”

His back is more muscled than you expected, not that you were expecting much. Other than patches of eczema, dry and angry red from the bone-dry air, he looks clear. “I’m not seeing anything.”

“Check for texture,” Shigaraki says, and your face heats up again. “Himura was pale like me, and they thought he was clear until they touched him.”

You set your hands on Shigaraki’s back, and he startles at your touch, even though he asked you to do this. You try to think back to what you’re looking for, what the others in the infected modules reported before they succumbed. Hard, pale circles on the skin that don’t change color when pressed on. Shigaraki’s skin is clear, everywhere you run your fingers over it, but you check again, and again. You haven’t touched anyone in weeks, not even to high-five or shake hands. It’s hard to pull away.

You make yourself do it before things can get weird. “You’re clear. On your back at least.”

“Your turn,” Shigaraki says, and you turn away immediately. At least now you won’t have to keep your arms crossed. He takes one look at your back and laughs. “A tattoo? Are you yakuza or something?”

“People get tattoos where I come from. Not just gangsters.” You jump as the rough tip of one finger traces over the design on your shoulder. “Don’t touch it if you’re just going to make fun of it.”

“I’m not. What is it?”

“I thought you didn’t care about backstory stuff,” you say. “Isn’t that what you said when we got stuck? We’re not gonna bond just because we’re breathing the same air?”

Shigaraki doesn’t answer. He usually doesn’t answer when he’s wrong about something. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Are you going to check me for the rash or not?” You wait until Shigaraki’s hands move, then answer his question, mainly to give yourself something to think about other than the fact that he’s touching you. “It’s Centaurus. The constellation.”

“I know what Centaurus is,” Shigaraki snaps, almost absently. His fingertips drift across your shoulder blades. “Closest stars to the sun, right?”

“Yeah. Alpha Centauri.” For some reason, your throat goes tight. “I always wanted to be an astronaut, even when I was a little kid. But kids are bad at distance, and time – the stuff that tells you what’s actually possible when it comes to space travel. I used to say I wanted to fly to Alpha Centauri and back. Just a few light-years away.”

You wait for Shigaraki to make fun of little-kid you for not understanding how spacetime works. He keeps quiet, his hands moving down your spine, and you don’t know what to do except to keep talking. “I don’t remember who told me. Probably some smart kid in elementary school. And I felt really stupid about it for a long time.”

“So you got a tattoo of it?”

“Yeah. When I got accepted to the academy,” you say. “Everybody was talking about why they wanted to be astronauts – I know we seem like a bunch of meatheads to you scientists, but it’s not easy – and I thought about how excited younger me would have been to be where I was. All the amazing things I was going to get to do and see. And if it was daydreaming about Alpha Centauri that got me there, even if I could never go that far, I didn’t want to be embarrassed about it any longer.”

Shigaraki’s hands come to a stop at your lower back, fingers curling around your hips in a way that’s not strictly necessary for what he’s supposed to be doing. “Did you ever think you’d die out here?”

“I knew it was possible,” you say. In the academy, they take you through every fatal accident, one by one, teaching you ever detail to demystify it. “I didn’t think it would go like this.”

“Yeah.” Shigaraki exhales, and you feel his breath against your shoulder. “You’re clear, by the way. Turn around.”

You turn to face him and realize that the two of you are standing much closer together than you started out. Shigaraki’s hands lifted away as you turned, but they settle back on your hips at once. “Um –”

“I’ve seen you watching me,” Shigaraki says. Of course he has. There’s nothing for the two of you to watch here but each other. You should have known better than to think you could get away with anything. “What do you think about when you do that?”

You’re going to die, right? Both of you, up here, whether Mission Control finds out a way to kill you humanely or just lets you starve. It doesn’t matter what you say. “You’re pretty. I like looking at you. I look at you and I can think about something other than this.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly. “Were you ever going to do more than just look?”

You’re both going to die. It doesn’t matter anymore. You lift your hands, set them on his shoulders, and step in close. Close enough to kiss, if Shigaraki wants to – and he closes the rest of the distance himself.

It doesn’t mean anything. You’re the last two alive. If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. You aren’t special. You remind yourself of that as his lips press insistently against yours, as you tangle your hands in his hair and hear him mumble your name. You could be anyone. It doesn’t matter that it’s you.

It’s an effort to detach yourself from Shigaraki long enough to lead him over to the pile of blankets you’ve each been sleeping in when it’s your turn to rest. You’re both mostly naked already, so it’s not a question of where things will go. It’s not the best sex you’ve ever had. With what’s hanging over the two of you, what you’re both trying to forget, you don’t think it’s possible to have really good sex. What you get instead is what you need – connection, contact, a way to ground yourself in one moment, with the only other person in the universe who understands what it’s like to stare this down.

Shigaraki’s desperate in a way that surprises you, responsive in a way you wouldn’t expect, even though this was his idea in the first place. Clingy, too – you’ve both finished, and he won’t let go of you, not even to let you get more comfortable. “I’m not leaving,” you say, exasperated. “Where would I even go?”

He finally shifts to one side, and you’re able to get settled, just in time for him to crawl all over you again. “Touch-starved much?”

“I waited too long,” Shigaraki says. You make a questioning sound. “I should have done it when I figured out who was messing with the gravity.”

Maybe you’re hallucinating. There’s no way he’s liked you that long. Or at all. “Okay, but if we’d hooked up in the command module back then everybody would have known about it.”

“They’d have been jealous.” Shigaraki’s eyelashes flutter against the side of your neck. “And alive.”

And now they’ll never find out, because they’re dead. You feel sick when you think about all the people who will mourn your crewmates, who are mourning them right now – their friends, their families, their girlfriends or boyfriends or spouses or children. Some of them have kids. Who lived, and who lived a little longer, came down to luck. Being in the right place at the right time. Being on shift in the command module for you, and standing in the doorway for Shigaraki, just as the alarms started to sound.

Something crosses your mind. “What were you doing at the command module that night, anyway? I never asked.”

“Why do you think?” Shigaraki’s voice is blurring with sleep, and you resign yourself to being stuck here until the next timer goes off. “Tell you later.”

You’re not all that familiar with hookups – you didn’t have a lot of time for that stuff with your job, or maybe you didn’t make time. You’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to fall asleep together, all but intertwined. But maybe the rules are different when it comes to hookups when you’re both about to die. Hookups where you like each other. Where things could have gone somewhere, maybe, if you’d had more time.

Sleep is tugging at you, trying to lure you down. It’s hard to resist when it’s warm. How long has it been since you were warm? Your sleeping pouch in the dormitory module feels like a distant memory, and with the ventilation isolated, the heaters haven’t been able to shift warm air to the command module in weeks. You and Shigaraki should have been sleeping like this the whole time, if it was ever appropriate for both of you to sleep at once. One person needs to be awake in the command module at all times. That’s you.

Station Ultra completes half an orbit, putting you on the dark side of the planet, and when the module rotates to show you the blackness of space, you look through the windscreen and pick out the stars. Alpha Centauri is right there, close enough to see, millennia away. You’ll never get there, but some virus could drift through space, right up close to Earth’s atmosphere? Bullshit. Then again, a virus isn’t as complex as a human. It doesn’t need air or atmosphere or water to survive. The only thing you and the virus have in common is –

Heat. The virus is inert in the vacuum of space. It activates in sufficient heat. Out in space, it can’t hurt anyone. What if you could send it back where it belongs? You sit up, shifting Shigaraki out of position, and he swears sleepily at you. “What the hell? Lie down.”

“No.” You tolerate Shigaraki’s attempts to drag you back down for about two seconds, then use the hand-to-hand training you received in the academy to pin him. “Listen to me. I have an idea.”

He stares up at you, wide-eyed, a weird flush in his face. “About how to die painlessly?”

“No,” you say. “About how to get home.”

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kk095 · 2 months ago

Text

The Clinical Trial

The sterile, sleek white walls of the research facility gleam under recessed lighting, giving the space an ultramodern, almost futuristic vibe. Everything is clean, clinical, and controlled. The faint hum of machines and the soft tap of footsteps on polished floors echo in the otherwise hushed corridor.

Dr Lindsay Wilkes steps through the frosted glass entryway doors with a small smile tugging at her lips. Dressed in a fitted gray blazer over a white casual top, dark jeans, and her usual quiet confidence, she looks more like a visiting speaker than a test subject. Her light brown hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and a thin silver necklace rests just above her collarbones.

Waiting for her near the intake desk are the trio running the clinical trial.

Dr Anna- early 40s, commanding presence, jet black hair pinned in a French twist, is the first to greet her. “Dr Wilkes” she begins, voice smooth and welcoming. “We’re honored to have you here. Your impressive background makes you a perfect candidate.” Dr Anna compliments.

Next to her is Dr Olivia, younger- in her early 30s, and a touch more energetic, all sharp cheekbones and quick glances, followed by Nurse Ashley – blonde, polished, clipboard in hand, her smile just a little too wide. “We’re big fans of yours. ER doctors make the most interesting subjects.” Ashley adds. Lindsay laughs lightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m just excited to be a part of this. I’ve been reading up on your work- it’s absolutely fascinating.” Lindsay replies enthusiastically.

“Oh, Cardexor has the potential to change the game.” Dr Anna replies, referencing her experimental medication without hesitation. “Performance enhancement, cardiac precision, stamina… all by gently modulating ion flow. You’re going to be part of history!” Dr Anna boasts.

The trio guides Dr Lindsay down a pristine hallway to a large, open exam room. Inside, the air smells faintly of antiseptic and ozone. A sleek white bed sits beneath a wall mounted monitor.

“Alright, Lindsay.” Nurse Ashley says, setting her clipboard down on a nearby countertop “we’ll have you get out of your clothes now. You can leave your personal items on the tray beside the bed.” The nurse instructs Lindsay.

The ER doc nods and starts to remove her blazer and shoes, then peels off her jeans, folding them neatly. Within moments, she’s barefoot on the cool tile floor, clad only in a gray sports bra and compression shorts. The silver necklace still rests around her neck- a small piece of personal flair amid the clinical setting.

Lindsay hops onto the exam table, sitting upright as sticky ECG leads are applied across her chest and torso. The monitor lights up with a steady rhythm- normal sinus. IV lines are started, her blood pressure is taken. Everything checks out. Everything’s good to go. Dr Olivia studies the monitor. “Vitals are solid. Baseline EKG is clean. You’re textbook, Dr Lindsay.”

Lindsay grins. “Let’s hope I stay that way!”

Dr Anna offers a nod, though her expression doesn’t quite match the enthusiasm. “We’ll begin the first infusion shortly. Just relax. If anything feels off at any point, speak up. This is cutting-edge science, but you’re still in control.” Anna tells Lindsay.

The team exits momentarily to prepare the first dose, leaving Lindsay alone on the table, feet dangling slightly, watching the quiet green blips on the monitor. She seems calm and confident. She has no idea that her name will soon be the third entry in a growing list.

Dr Lindsay reclines slightly on the padded exam table, IV already in place. The ultramodern room remains relatively calm, with faint mechanical beeps from the heart monitor and the subtle hiss of the air conditioning from a vent in the ceiling. A flat-panel screen nearby glows with her live vitals- all still perfectly normal. Her blazer is neatly folded on a nearby chair. Barefoot, dressed down to a charcoal gray sports bra and black compression shorts, she looks more like a training athlete than an ER physician about to become a patient.

Dr Anna re-enters the room and steps up with a small vial of clear liquid, hooking it to the IV line, careful and precise in her movements. “This is it- Cardexor, the newest evolution in cardiac modulation.” she tells Lindsay with an excited smile, though there’s a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. “You’re officially our tenth volunteer in the trial!”

“Great, double digits. Glad I get to be a part of this!” Lindsay says lightly, giving a small smile, eyes flicking toward the monitor, her vitals still normal.

Dr Olivia adjusts the infusion pump. “We’ll be starting with a conservative dose and monitoring for about twenty minutes. Most of the pharmacokinetics are pretty quick. You should start noticing some sensations within a few minutes.” Dr Olivia explains.

“Side effects?” Lindsay asks, watching the clear liquid drip down the line into her vein. “Tingling, maybe some lightheadedness. Nothing to be worried about.” Dr Olivia answers too quickly. Nurse Ashley, standing at the foot of the table, gives a practiced smile but avoids eye contact with Lindsay.

A few minutes pass. The room is quiet except for casual small talk and monitor beeps. Then…

“Hmm… I’m… feeling something…” Lindsay murmurs, brow furrowing slightly. “There’s a little tingling in my chest. Like pins and needles.” Continues Lindsay. Dr Anna nods, jotting something on a digital tablet. “That’s totally expected. That’s just the Cardexor fine-tuning those ion channels, nudging the signal transmission. All part of the process.” Dr Anna dismisses Lindsay’s symptoms. Lindsay shifts a little. “My head’s kind of floaty too, almost like I got up too fast.” Complains Lindsay. “You’re doing great, this is all normal.” Nurse Ashley says with gentle encouragement, though her eyes flick quickly to the monitor. Lindsay’s heart rate has crept up from 100bpm into the low 120s- just high enough to be noticeable, but not necessarily alarming.

Dr Olivia presses the back of her hand to Lindsay’s forehead. “No fever. Any tightness in your chest?” she asks. “No… just… pins and needles.” Lindsay breathes in slowly, and though she’s still calm, there’s a subtle tension in her voice now. “We’re right on track.” Dr Anna smiles, a little too tightly.

Lindsay closes her eyes for a moment, her brows raising ever so slightly as she took a slow, steadying breath. She was still trying to convince herself it was nothing- just her body adjusting, just nerves, perhaps. The fluttering in her chest lingered like an aftershock, faint but persistent.

A soft beep drew Ashley’s eyes to the monitor. Lindsay’s heart rate had climbed again- nothing dramatic, just a little higher than before. But it stayed there, holding steady at the new pace like it had found a rhythm it wasn’t supposed to. None of the women said anything. For a moment, the room was filled with an unnatural stillness, like the quiet just before a storm.

An hour or so passes since the infusion started. Lindsay sits upright on the exam table, legs extended and crossed at the ankles, her bare heel resting on the padded surface. She rubs her sternum with the heel of her hand, the gesture casual at first, then more deliberate. “There’s this weird tightness now…” she tells the team, her tone light, but her eyes searching. “I also feel a pinch. Right in the center.” Continues Lindsay, gesturing to the location on her chest. Dr Olivia steps in with her usual serene smile. “That’s not uncommon. Some participants report transient chest sensations while the ion modulation stabilizes.” Olivia explains. “Transient?” Lindsay replies. Nurse Ashley adjusts the IV line, her movements smooth and practiced. The telemetry monitor gives a soft beep, a little quicker than it was earlier. Lindsay glances at the screen, noting the climb: heart rate hovering in the low 130s now. “Still sinus.” Anna informs, peering at the readout and tapping a few notes into the tablet. “We’ll push a little metoprolol just to keep things where we want them.” Instructs Dr Anna. Lindsay nods, overhearing them, breathing through another round of pins and needles. She shifts her shoulders and tries to relax, but the rhythm feels off inside her chest- like something ticking out of sync.

Then, just for a second, Lindsay catches a look. Olivia’s eyes flick to Anna, subtle, concerned, but enough to tighten something low in Lindsay’s gut. She offers a half-smile to cut the tension. “Okay… what was that look all about? I’m not gonna be toes up in the morgue anytime soon, am I?” Lindsay half-jokes. Anna chuckles. “God, no! You’re doing great. These are just fine-tuning effects. Your body’s just adapting. It means the compound is working.” Anna explains away.

Lindsay leans back a little, not totally convinced, but willing to believe it for now. “Alright. Just don’t let me die half naked in my compression shorts.” Quips Lindsay. They all laugh, perhaps a little too quickly.

Ashley hangs another saline flush, and the monitor continues its steady beep… beep… beep, like a ticking clock. Lindsay closes her eyes briefly, exhales, and rests her hand against her chest again. Something’s not right. But she doesn’t know just how wrong it’s about to get.

The clinical room, once sterile and composed, now buzzes with a subtle but unmistakable undercurrent of tension. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor had sped up, edging into a range that triggered the machine’s soft warning tones. Lindsay sat upright on the exam table, eyeing the monitors. A sheen of sweat began to form across her collarbones, and her breathing, while controlled, speeds up.

She presses the palm of her hand against her chest, fingertips trembling slightly. “I’m still feeling it…it’s worse…” she utters quietly. “It’s much sharper now- like a pinch just behind my sternum.” Adds Dr Lindsay, concern in her voice. Anna glances up from the monitor with a tight smile. “That’s probably the beta stimulation- it can happen at this stage.” Anna downplays Lindsay’s symptoms. Olivia stands beside her, cross-checking a second monitor. “Heart rate’s up, but still within protocol range.” She informs. “Still in protocol? That’s good.” Lindsay repeats, her voice flat, lips twitching into a weak half-smile.

She exhales and glances around the room. “Have you guys ever tested this on ER docs before? Or am I your guinea pig with a stethoscope?” jokes Dr Lindsay. Ashley chuckles softly from the IV station. “Nah, you’re our star subject! Clean vitals, athletic background- you’re ideal.” Ashley responds. But Lindsay wasn’t buying the reassurance this time. Her eyes flick over to the monitor again. The QRS complexes had widened. Her trained gaze pick up on it, even before the machine sounded another beep, this one more insistent.

She narrows her eyes. “Wait, that’s… V-tach.” Lindsay looks to Anna. “You’re seeing it too, right?” asks Lindsay. Anna hesitates for half a second- just long enough for Lindsay to catch it. “It’s a nonsustained run. We’re monitoring. You’re still stable.” Anna brushes it off. “Stable? That’s a curious word choice for this rhythm.” Lindsay firmly replies, her voice tighter now. Olivia busied herself at the bedside, adjusting the telemetry leads. “You’re still perfusing well. BP’s solid. Let’s get some fluids in, maybe push a touch of lidocaine.” Olivia chimes in.

Ashley moves efficiently, drawing up meds. The quiet hiss of saline through the IV port was almost drowned out by the monitor’s quickening beeps. Lindsay’s heart rate hovers just over 160- still with a pulse, still conscious, but each beat seemed more jagged than the last. “I’m not trying to be dramatic, but if this keeps up much longer, someone’s going to need the crash cart.” Lindsay murmurs to the team. Anna’s voice was gentle. “It’s ok. We have a protocol for situations like this.” Anna was clearly running out of things to say to dismiss Lindsay. Dr Lindsay turns her head slightly toward her. “You answered that a little too fast, Anna. What’s really going on here?!” Lindsay knows something’s off.

Another glance passes between Anna and Olivia- brief but tight.

“What was that look?! You did it again!” Lindsay shouts, more nervous this time. Olivia leaned closer, offering a steadying hand on Lindsay’s shoulder. “You’re fine. This is what the close monitoring is for. You’re in good hands.” Olivia tries to reassure. Lindsay gave a single nod, but her gaze drifted back to the monitor. The screen now showed a classic wide-complex tachycardia, consistent with sustained V-tach. Her expression remained composed, but her breathing had deepened, a thin tremor in her arms now visible. “Okay… stay strong, Linds…” she whispers, mostly to herself.

Several minutes pass, and the EKG monitor let out a steady whine as her heart continued to race inside her chest. Her breathing came in shallow, focused puffs. “I’m still with you…” she murmurs, glancing from one face to the next. “This is still manageable… right?” asks Lindsay, growing increasingly uneasy. Dr Anna didn’t answer immediately. She was at the head of the bed, eyes locked on the monitor. “V-tach, still with a pulse.” Anna confirms, more to Olivia and Ashley than to Lindsay. Dr Olivia steps to Lindsay’s side, readying the crash cart. “We need to cardiovert you. Now.” States Olivia. Lindsay’s eyes shift to the defibrillators, then back to Olivia. “Oh…” Lindsay utters. “Yep. We’re going to get this handled for you.” Ashley said, voice quick and clipped as she peels open a fresh pack of defib pads. “Synchronized. It won’t be fun.” Ashley adds.

“Are you sedating me?” Lindsay asks. A beat of silence passes. Dr Anna shook her head. “We can’t in your case. And you’re still responsive. It’ll hurt- but it’s absolutely necessary.” Anna explains, her tone more stern. Lindsay swallows hard, a flicker of fear behind her eyes, but she nods. “Do it.”

Ashley places the pads quickly- sternum and apex, while Olivia set the charge. Dr Anna presses gently but firmly on Lindsay’s shoulder to keep her still. “Lindsay, we’re going to shock you now, ok?” Informs Dr Anna. Lindsay just nods in response, her stare blank.

“Defibrillator is charged to 150 joules. Everyone stand clear for me.” Olivia calls out.

The first shock is delivered, and hits her like a freight train.

Lindsay’s chest shoots forward, her back bending a bit. A strangled cry exits from her throat- pure reflex. Her heel scraped along the thin mattress, toes curling hard, showing off the fresh white nail polish on her toes along with the thin, wavy wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 12 feet. The monitor responds with a blink… but the rhythm held steady in V-tach.

“Still in VT.” Ashley mouths, frowning at the screen. “Olivia, charge again to 150.” Anna instructs, already reaching to steady Lindsay again. Lindsay’s breath caught. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes- glassy now, fixed on the ceiling like she was bracing herself for a wave.

“Defibrillator is charged to 150 joules. Everyone stand clear for me.” Olivia calls out.

The second shock came, feeling harder than the first. This time, Lindsay screamed. It wasn’t theatrical- just a raw, involuntary sound that erupted from somewhere deep in her chest as the electricity races through her. Lindsay’s necklace swung against her collarbone with the motion. Her face contorted in pain, eyebrows raised, forehead crinkling, and for a moment, she didn’t seem to breathe at all. “Still no change, everyone.” Ashley informs.

Olivia’s hands were already moving. “Charging defibrillator to 200 joules.” She calls out. Lindsay blinked slowly, chest rising in shaky bursts. “Do it…” Lindsay rasped, through gritted teeth. The third shock landed like thunder.

Her entire body tenses up hard, shoulders shrugging forwards, both her hands making loose fists. Lindsay let out a pained moan, feeling the quick jolt of electricity work its way through every square inch of her 6’1 body.

Then, there was quiet. The monitor let out a softer tone. It was still fast, but regular. “Sinus tach.” Ashley confirms. A small breath of relief escaped her lips. “She’s back.” Anna smiles, feeling relieved. Lindsay let her head fall to the side, breathing fast and shallow, face pale, lashes wet. “Jesus. Never again!” she blurts out . Anna gives her a tight nod. “You’re stable for now. That’s what matters. We’ll let you rest for a bit.”

Over the coming little while, Lindsay remains in sinus tachycardia. Lindsay lay back against the inclined bed, a sheen of sweat still clinging to her collarbones. Her chest rose and fell with steady rhythm now, the erratic pounding finally tamed into something bearable. Electrodes remain stuck to her skin, telemetry still beeping softly nearby, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted.

Dr Anna stood at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed, watching the monitor with clinical focus but no urgency. Olivia leans on the nearby counter, half-sipping from a water bottle, while Nurse Ashley updates a chart on the tablet in her hand.

“You’re doing great, vitals improving.” Anna told Dr Lindsay with a smile that, for the first time, didn’t feel rehearsed. “HR’s holding steady in the 120s- definitely an improvement from earlier.” Adds Anna. Lindsay let out a breath through her nose, almost a laugh. “As an ER doctor, I’ve shocked plenty of people in my day. I never thought I’d be on the receiving end.” she jokes, reaching up to rub where the defib pad still sits.

“You took it like a champ.” Olivia chuckles. “Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Lindsay replies, managing a grin. “You all decided I was the world’s best science experiment.” Lindsay quips. Ashley offers her a bottle of water and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Doctor. You’re helping us learn something important.” Encourages Nurse Ashley.

Lindsay takes the water and sips, but her fingers tremble faintly around the plastic bottle. It was subtle. Easily missed. And maybe she was just a little out of it, considering she was just shocked three times.

The heart monitor beeped at a calm, consistent pace.

Still, she noticed the way Dr Olivia’s eyes flicked to the screen just a second too long. How Anna’s posture stiffened just slightly when Lindsay shifted in the bed. How Ashley’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Lindsay caught it just barely. “You all okay?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. Anna laughs nervously. “The worst part is over. You’re doing just fine.”

Olivia added, “We’ve got eyes on everything. You’re in good hands.”

Lindsay leans back, letting the water bottle rest on her lap. She wasn’t sure if the creeping unease was just her imagination or the return of something real. But for now, she chose to believe them. The lights dimmed slightly as the sun began to set outside the high windows. Machines hummed softly. Monitors blinked. Everything was fine.

Another twenty minutes had passed. The room had grown still again, except for the soft beeps of the heart monitor. Lindsay sat upright, her color a touch better, a thin blanket drawn across her lap. Her breathing had evened out. Olivia had just made a quiet note in the chart, and Ashley was adjusting an IV pump when it hit.

Lindsay flinched. It was sudden and sharp. Her hand shot to her chest, pressing just beneath her left collarbone. Her brow creased, forehead crinkled, as she leaned forward, lips parting in a shallow gasp. “Oh god… something’s wrong.” Lindsay murmured. The heart monitor confirmed it a second or so later, the steady rhythm giving way to a rapid, fluttering series of beeps.

Ashley’s head snapped toward the screen. “Telemetry just jumped, she’s spiking again.” Informs Ashley. Anna crossed the room in three strides. “Lindsay, talk to me. What are you feeling?” Dr Anna asks, her tone clipped and stern. “chest pain�� palpitations… Something’s really really wrong…” answers Lindsay. She sucked in a breath. Her eyes darted to the monitor and back to Anna. Her composure was crumbling now- still holding, but fraying at the edges. “Rate’s climbing. 160 and rising.” Olivia informs. Anna’s voice stayed even. “We’ve got it. You’re still in a rhythm we can manage.” Anna reassures. But even as she said it, she was pulling on a pair of gloves, and Ashley was already prepping another IV med. The room had taken on a charge- quiet, but tense.

Lindsay’s grip tightened on the edge of the bed. Her breaths came faster and more shallow. “I thought we fixed this! Why is it happening?!” Lindsay shouts. Ashley and Olivia exchanged a quick glance. Nothing overt, just enough to register. Lindsay caught it. “Okay. That look? I know that look.” Lindsay shook her head. “You’re okay, Lindsay.” Anna said, but it was too quick. Lindsay looked up at her, face pale, lips slightly parted. “Don’t lie to me!” Lindsay snapped. “We’re not. We’re on top of this.” Anna replied softly. The monitor beeped louder, faster. A warning tone now. 165. 170.

Lindsay slumped back slightly, wincing, her voice more fragile this time. “I feel like my heart’s trying to leap out of my chest…” Lindsay groans. Olivia moves closer to the crash cart- still calm, but with new urgency in her step. Ashley hovered by the meds, ready. “We’re staying ahead of it. Just hang with us.” Anna places a hand gently on Lindsay’s shoulder. Dr Lindsay nodded, but her eyes didn’t leave the monitor.

The sharp, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was suddenly replaced by a blaring, erratic wail. Lindsay’s body shifted uncomfortably for a split second, her hand clutched tightly to her chest. “OH GOD…” she winced, her voice tight, barely audible. Her eyes went WIDE, pupils dilating as her body slumped.

“Lindsay?!” Dr Anna was already moving with a pep in her step. The monitor blared. Pulseless ventricular tachycardia. “Code blue!” Olivia shouted, her hand slamming the red button on the wall. Ashley lunged for the crash cart, tearing open drawers with trembling precision. Anna took lead, her voice cutting clean through the chaos. “Get the pads ready. Ashley- bag her. We need to intubate.” Anna commanded.

The air in the room thickened. Olivia snipped off Lindsay’s sports bra and began deep, strong chest compressions. Lindsay’s chest rocked beneath each forceful push. Her face, once full of quiet strength, now lay pale and motionless. “Pads ready. Charging to 200,” Ashley called out. “Hold on! Hold on! I’m intubating!” Anna pressed the laryngoscope into Lindsay’s mouth, hands steady as she passed the 8.0 ET tube down her trachea. “Tube’s in. Confirm with bag.” Anna barked. “Good rise. Tube’s good.” Ashley confirms, already squeezing the ambu bag rhythmically. “Alright, I’m going to go ahead and shock her now. Everyone stand clear!” Olivia announced. Everyone backed away.

The shock hit Lindsay. Her back arched violently, chest shot up, her hands making weak fists, plopping back down a second or two later.

“No change, resume compressions.” Anna ordered, jaw tight. “Ashley, push epi, one milligram IV.” Olivia called out, hands back on Lindsay’s chest, pushing hard and fast. Ashley administered the meds without a word.

The seconds bled together. Another round of compressions, and the meds were pushed. “Charging again- 300 this time.” Ashley took over the defibs. “Clear!!!”

Lindsay’s body twitched sharply in response. Another rush of electrical current through her tall, athletic body, but she devolved into v-fib.

“Still no pulse, looks like maybe v-fib on the monitors” Olivia observed softly, her voice starting to fray. Anna’s expression didn’t shift. “Another amp of epi. Get ready for amiodarone- 300 milligrams, push.” Commanded Anna.

The meds were pushed. CPR continued. The monitor continued to shriek.

“Charging to 360. Stand clear, everyone!” Ashley called out.

The third shock caused Lindsay’s feet to kick up an inch or so above the table, slamming back down with an ungracious THUD, showing off the thin, prominent, wavy wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 12 feet.

Anna’s gloved hands reached towards Lindsay’s neck, feeling for a carotid. “still no pulse, v-fib on the monitors.” Dr Anna shook her head.

The code continued. And Lindsay? She lay still, on the receiving end of deep, violent chest compressions. Her chest caving in, recoiling rhythmically, her toned belly with abs rippling out. The room, once full of optimism, was now silent except for the rhythmic thud of chest compressions and the hiss of forced ventilation.

The room was still bathed in harsh fluorescent light, sterile and too bright for what was unfolding. Alarms blared in their usual chaotic rhythm, but everyone had long since stopped reacting to them. On the monitor, the jagged, erratic waves of ventricular fibrillation darted across the screen. Lindsay’s body lay still on the table, her chest rising and falling only with the force of chest compressions.

“Charging again to 200. Everyone stand back for me.” Olivia announced, her voice flat from repetition. The shock hit Lindsay’s body with a jolt. Her 6’1 frame was tossed around effortlessly, arms slightly flinching outward, as the energy surged through her lifeless heart. The monitor stuttered. For a half-second, something vaguely organized sparked across the screen, then back to v-fib.

Ashley didn’t stop compressions. Her brow was damp with sweat, jaw clenched tightly as she counted under her breath. “Twenty-one… twenty-two…”

“Charging again. 250 this time.” Olivia called out. Anna just nodded, her eyes locked on the monitor, watching with clinical intensity. There was a subtle weight behind her expression now- grim acceptance beginning to settle in her bones.

The next shock was delivered. Lindsay’s body jerked once more. Another violent convulsion that looked nothing like life. Still v-fib.

“Still no pulse.” Ashley informed, pausing just briefly before going back in with compressions, her palms hitting harder than before. “We can keep going” Ashley suggests, almost pleading, her voice cracking.

Anna shook her head. “Nope. We lost her.” she said firmly, stepping back from the foot of the bed. Her voice was calm, almost too calm. “The trial drug caused mass dysfunction of the cardiac conduction system. Her heart’s no longer conductive, so we’re going to have to stop here and call time of death.” Anna explained, cold and matter of fact.

Ashley froze mid-compression. Her hands hovered above Lindsay’s chest for a second or so before she finally withdrew them. Dr Olivia didn’t say anything. She just reached over and pressed the power button for the heart monitor, which still displayed refractory v-fib. “Alright, everyone. Time of death, 18:45.” Anna broke the silence.

The room was eerily quiet now. No more beeping monitors. No more shouted commands. Just the stillness that followed the end of a code.

Lindsay’s body lay motionless on the table, chest rising no more, her head slightly turned to one side, eyes wide open, staring somewhere no one else could follow.

Nobody moved at first. Anna, Olivia, and Ashley just stood there, still in their gloves, gowns, and masks. A heaviness pressed down on the room, like it was holding its breath with them. Finally, Ashley stepped forward, reaching for the ambu bag still attached to the endotracheal tube. She unhooked it slowly, the rubber disconnect giving a soft click that echoed far louder than it should have. Olivia followed, gently peeling the defib pads from Lindsay’s chest. Anna moved in closer, hands steady as she carefully removed the EKG wires from Lindsay’s torso, one by one. No one spoke, but everyone did their part.

Ashley unwound the IV tubing from Lindsay’s arm, slipping the catheter free with an almost reverent gentleness. A soft trickle of blood followed, quickly wiped with gauze. Then, with quiet care, Olivia reached up and used her fingertips to gently close Lindsay’s wide open eyes. That blank, unblinking stare was gone.

Anna reached down, pulled a toe tag from the drawer, and began to fill it out. Her handwriting was neat and quick: “Lindsay Wilkes, MD. Time of death: 18:45.” She slipped the tag over Lindsay’s left big toe and fastened it in place, letting it dangle against the wrinkled soles of her feet.

“She’s the third one this week.” Anna spoke finally, her voice low and flat, shaking her head. “Yeah, back to the drawing board, I guess.” Olivia murmured, folding her arms across her chest. No one added anything. There was nothing left to say at that point.

Ashley stepped forward again and drew the white sheet up, first over Lindsay’s torso, then her face, tucking it in gently like she was putting someone to bed. For a long moment, the three of them stood in silence. At the end of the table, the toe tag swayed slightly, brushing softly against the soles of Lindsay’s feet, forever symbolizing Lindsay’s tragic end in what was originally supposed to be a positive experience.

#resus writing #resus community #cpr resus #resus #cpr #cpr female #dark cardiophilia #medfet #defib #defibs

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dgct2 · 2 months ago

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Concord Aerospace built the control panels for Apollo Command Module that Ellie plays with in 2x06 "The Price."

For nearly a year, we’ve had to stay quiet — but now that Episode 6 of The Last of Us has aired, we’re proud to share that our team at Concord Aerospace was responsible for building the interior control panels of the Apollo Command Module featured in one of the most emotional and unforgettable scenes in the series. Like many productions, the timeline was incredibly tight. We were still shipping panels and components from our Orlando shop to the set until the very last moments. A special thank-you to the brilliant art and production teams at HBO for their direction and support, including Luca Carati and Lisa Lancaster, whose leadership and support created an environment where we could keep working under pressure and still do our best till the last possible moment. Their trust and communication meant everything to us. For fans of the game and the series, this scene is one of those rare moments when chaos pauses—when joy and wonder take over, and there is true happiness. It was an honour to help bring that moment to life, even in a small way. And if you look closely… You might spot a hidden detail inside one of the panels: the birthdays of Pedro Pascal and Bella Ramsey — a quiet tribute to two remarkable performances. We’re humbled, grateful, and proud for the opportunity. Thank you to the entire team behind The Last of Us for letting us be part of it.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlouedit #tlou hbo #tlouhboedit #hboedit #behind the scenes #tlou 2x06 #ellie's birthday #joel miller #pedro pascal #ellie williams #bella ramsey #space #nasa #apollo space module

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 1 year ago

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1958 Chevrolet Corvette

This 1958 Chevrolet Corvette underwent a pro-street-style metamorphosis between 2008 and 2011. It is endowed with a 383 cubic inch stroker V8 engine, harmonized with a TH350 three-speed automatic transmission, and a narrowed rear axle featuring a limited-slip differential. The rear suspension has been upgraded with a ladder-bar configuration, adjustable coilovers, and the addition of a lift-off hood. The body, painted a striking red with white coves, comes with a detachable hardtop. Inside, a roll cage has been installed along with a B&M Pro Stick shifter, a shift light, aftermarket gauges, and black Procar bucket seats. The enhancements also include dual Edelbrock carburetors, Hooker headers, side-exit exhaust pipes, 15” alloy wheels, and front disc brakes. Acquired by the current dealer in February 2024, this modified C1 Corvette is now part of the Coffee Walk Corvette Collection in Wylie, Texas, and is offered without reserve, complete with build records and a clean Pennsylvania title.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

The fiberglass exterior is adorned in red with white coves and includes a removable hardtop and a lift-off hood with an integrated air scoop. A Stewart-Warner fuel-pressure gauge is mounted on the cowl, and the right-rear corner features a battery cutoff switch and external terminals. The gallery reveals cracks in the weatherstripping, pitted chrome, and paint imperfections.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

Polished 15” alloy wheels are shod with 25.0×5.0” front and 29.5×11.5” rear Hoosier drag tires, installed in April 2024. A crossmember supports the rear suspension, which has been modified with ladder bars, a diagonal link, and adjustable coilovers. The braking system includes front disc brakes and rear drums.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

The interior is equipped with a roll cage and Procar high-back bucket seats in black. Enhancements include a B&M Pro Stick shifter, an MSD shift light, rocker-switch controls, and fabricated metal door panels. The gallery displays flaking paint and wear on interior surfaces.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

The three-spoke steering wheel is positioned in front of a 160-mph speedometer and auxiliary gauges. An AutoMeter pedestal tachometer is mounted atop the non-functional factory tachometer. Additional gauges for coolant temperature and oil pressure are located in the center console. The mechanical odometer is inoperative, and the total mileage remains unknown.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

A Harwood plastic fuel cell is mounted in the trunk, which has been tubbed with fabricated aluminum panels to accommodate the rear wheels.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

The 350ci V8 engine block, bored and stroked to 383ci, features four-bolt main bearings. The build includes forged pistons, ARP fasteners, a polished Edelbrock intake manifold, dual Edelbrock carburetors, an MSD ignition module, and Hooker long-tube headers that flow into side-exit exhaust pipes.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

Power is transmitted to the rear wheels through a TH350 three-speed automatic transmission and a narrowed Dana 60 rear axle with a limited-slip differential.

1958 Chevrolet Corvette

#chevrolet corvette #chevrolet #corvette #car #cars #muscle car #american muscle

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ramautomations123 · 15 days ago

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Praxis Lips Series PCB Module 4054 | Industrial Control Solutions | Ram Automations

Discover the Praxis Lips Series PCB Module 4054, a highly reliable solution for your industrial control and automation needs. This PCB module is designed to offer superior performance, stability, and integration flexibility for various industrial systems. Perfect for enhancing the efficiency of your automation setup, the Praxis Lips 4054 ensures smooth operations across multiple industrial applications.

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zylcd · 11 days ago

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Understanding LCD Screen Technology and Its Maintenance Solutions

In today’s digital age, LCD screens are a fundamental part of countless electronic devices used in industrial, commercial, and consumer applications. From factory control panels to modern medical equipment and smartphones, the LCD module plays a vital role in providing clear, reliable visual displays. But like all technology, these components can require professional care to maintain peak performance.

What Is an LCD Module?

An LCD module is an integrated unit that includes an LCD panel, backlight, and often a touch screen layer. These modules vary in size, resolution, and brightness, depending on the application. In industrial environments, rugged and sunlight-readable touch screen LCD modules are essential for efficient operation and accurate control.

Importance of Touch Screen Integration

The addition of touch screen capabilities to an LCD module enhances user interaction, making devices more intuitive and functional. Whether it's a machine operator adjusting settings or a technician reviewing data, a touch screen provides real-time control at the fingertips. For industries such as automation, logistics, and healthcare, touch-integrated LCDs are indispensable.

When You Need LCD Panel Repair

Despite their durability, LCDs can suffer damage due to impact, aging, or environmental exposure. Common issues include dead pixels, cracked glass, or unresponsive touch screens. In such cases, professional LCD panel repair is recommended to restore full functionality without replacing the entire system.

Finding Quality LCD Screen Service

Businesses that rely on these displays must ensure regular maintenance and quick turnaround times for repairs. Trusted LCD screen service providers can diagnose and repair faults efficiently, whether it's a backlight failure, touch malfunction, or logic board issue. Some advanced centers even offer LCD touch screen service, which involves recalibrating or replacing the touch layer without disturbing the entire display.

Benefits of Professional LCD Touch Screen Service

Choosing expert LCD touch screen service ensures that your display system is repaired using OEM-grade parts and calibrated for optimal responsiveness. This not only extends the life of your equipment but also minimizes costly downtime. From factory floor HMIs to high-end medical monitors, professional service plays a crucial role in operational reliability.

Conclusion

As display technology becomes more integrated into daily operations across industries, understanding the role of the LCD module, the need for responsive touch screens, and the value of timely LCD panel repair is essential. Whether you're installing new equipment or extending the life of existing devices, investing in qualified LCD screen service helps you maintain performance, accuracy, and efficiency.

Shenzhen Zhiyan Optronics Co., Ltd.(zylcdshop.com), We are a trusted supplier of high-quality LCD screens. If you have any LCD display needs, feel free to contact me anytime.

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winxanity-ii · 10 months ago

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⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 05 Chapter 05 | containment breach⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

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As you settled back into the captain's bridge, the crackling voice of Tyler suddenly broke through on the intercom, his words garbled and frantic. "It is a form of shutdown. Andy, the door. Fuck! He is not authorized to open the door," you could barely make out the urgency in his voice, signaling something had gone terribly wrong.

Navarro rushed over to the communication panel, her expression tense. "What's going on?" she demanded, her voice sharp with concern.

From the intercom, Tyler's voice emerged clearer this time, his frustration palpable. "We're locked in the cryo-chamber. Someone triggered a lockdown, and Andy can't override it—it needs higher clearance."

Bjorn's sneering tone followed, laced with disdain. "The piece of trash can restart the ship but can't open the fucking door to a different room?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a snarly comment. "Why would they even think Andy had the credentials for that? It's not like he's been programmed with full admin rights," you muttered, the irony of their reliance yet dismissal of Andy not lost on you.

Rain's voice then pleaded through the intercom, her tone desperate. "Y/N, can you do anything to help?"

For a moment, a wicked thought flashed through your mind: to leave the two men locked inside since, after all, Andy was just a machine and could survive without food or water. But your better instincts prevailed.

Grumbling, you grabbed your satchel filled with small tools and your tablet, capable of jailbreaking many machines and codes.

As you stood, Rain's hopeful voice carried over from the men's frustration, "Y/N can probably get them out."

Navarro, however, sounded skeptical as she joined you in preparing to leave. "I'm not sure. Honestly, if Andy can't open the door, she probably can't either. He is a Weyland-Yutani synth. We're just intruders."

Rain, undeterred, insisted, "Still, she can try..."

With a resigned sigh, you followed Navarro and Rain through the airlock onto the Romulus, leaving Kay behind on the hauler.

As you stepped through the airlock, your mind was a tumult of conflicting emotions, yet determined to resolve the situation, not just for Andy's sake but to prove that when it came to family—biological or constructed—you don't abandon them.

The station was in shambles, with evidence of damage everywhere you looked. Panels hung off the walls, sparks occasionally erupting from exposed wires.

The dim lighting gave the corridor an eerie, flickering ambiance, casting long shadows that twisted and turned as you moved.

Nearby, a large hole in the floor appeared to have been corroded by some acidic substance. The air was heavy, filled with the sharp, metallic scent of ionized air, mingling with the acrid tang of the acid.

But what caught your attention most was the damaged synthetic lying against the wall; its casing cracked open, revealing a maze of wires and circuits.

You, Navarro, and Rain rushed toward the cryo-chamber, the sounds of struggle growing louder with each step. When you arrived, you found Bjorn and Tyler trying to open the cryo-storage, their movements swift and determined.

Hooking up your tablet to the chamber door's control panel, you began to frantically input commands, trying to override the lockdown.

Your fingers flew across the screen, but each attempt was met with a denial.

Navarro, peering over your shoulder before turning to Rain, asking, "Do you have any ideas?"

"Not yet," the girl replied, her voice tinged with frustration.

Then, in a flash of inspiration, Rain turned and sprinted toward the damaged synthetic. She pushed on its port, extracting a small disc—a module that might hold the key to ending the lockdown. She quickly moved to install the extracted module into Andy, hoping it would grant him the necessary clearance.

Navarro, puzzled and anxious, called out, "What are you doing?"

"If the module works, it can transfer its authorization to Andy so he can open the door."

Meanwhile, Bjorn, still pulling at the locked door in frustration, yelled back to Rain, "It's stuck!" He then rushed to the back of the chamber to grab something to bang on the door with, his patience worn thin.

Andy, observing Bjorn's actions, cautioned, "Maybe we shouldn't touch anything, it might—"

Bjorn snapped back as he returned, wielding a piece of metal, "Shut the hell up, it's hot in here."

As you watched through the glass, a sense of unease settled in your stomach despite understanding the necessity of the module swap.

You watched as Rain retrieved the disk from the damaged synthetic before rushing over to the cryo-storage door, passing the small disk to Tyler through the narrow slot in the door. "Here. This is from the synthetics. Try putting it in Andy's module," she instructed urgently, her voice tinged with hope.

Tyler, with hurried movements, pressed down on Andy's port to insert the disk. The moment the disk clicked into place, Andy's expression contorted in discomfort. "I-It hurts me terribly," he articulated, his voice strained as if the insertion of the disk caused him physical pain.

"Just hang on, Andy," Tyler murmured, his brow furrowed in concern before turning towards the door.

Bjorn, anxious to leave the overheating room, paced back and forth. "Now let's just get out," he muttered impatiently. But as he moved, he felt something wet brush across his foot in the water accumulating from the melting ice in the cryochamber. "What was that?" he exclaimed, looking down with a mixture of disgust and alarm.

"Stay straight," Tyler advised ready to leave.

Suddenly, Andy paused, his face and hands beginning to twitch unnervingly. "T-Tyler?" he called out, his voice echoing with a mix of confusion and distress.

Tyler, who had been checking the perimeter for more emerging threats, spun around upon hearing Andy's strained voice. "Andy... Shit. Did I do something wrong?" he asked, panic rising in his voice as he saw Andy frozen in place.

The stark red emergency lights casting an ominous glow over his synthetic face, his expression a mix of pain and malfunction. It mirrored the tension gripping the room—every line of his features etched with the struggle of the conflicting commands ripping through his circuitry.

From behind the safety of the glass, you watched, your heart pounding with worry. "He's just rebooting. It takes a few minutes," you called out, trying to reassure them despite the dread filling your own chest. The image of Andy's strained face haunted you, reflecting the tension and uncertainty of the moment.

Tyler's voice echoed with concern as Bjorn's frustration manifested in a sudden splash of water, kicking up debris and sending ripples through the chamber. "What are you doing? Bjorn! Stop that shit."

"There is something in the water," Bjorn replied, his voice tight with tension.

"What is it?" Tyler demanded, scanning the murky depths.

"No idea, but it's in the water." Just as Bjorn spoke, something small and swift darted through the water, leaping onto Andy and knocking him down with surprising force. "What the hell was that!?" Bjorn yelled, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Andy!" you shouted from behind the glass, panic seizing your voice. "Bjorn, help him!'

Andy, still recovering from his reboot, slowly came back online. His systems stabilized just as Bjorn, cursing under his breath, helped him to his feet. Meanwhile, Tyler fought off the few swift, shadowy things swirling in the water.

"Come on, come on, come on! Hurry, Andy!" you urged as Andy, now regaining his functionality, touched the interface. The doors slid open just in time, allowing the trio to stumble out, escaping the watery trap.

"Come on, Bjorn! Tyler!" Navarro called out, rushing alongside you as all five of you made a desperate run for it.

Just as you all escaped, one of the creatures, however, was quick and managed to escape just as the cryo-chamber door slammed shut behind you, locking dozens of the other creatures behind it.

Your heart raced as you all sprinted towards the safety of the lab.

The sharp, muffled scream that followed turned your blood cold. Whipping your head around, the sight that greeted you halted your breath—a creature, like something out of a nightmare, had latched onto Navarro's face.

Andy stood slightly in front of you as if trying to shield you from the unfolding horror. You peeked over his shoulder, your hands trembling, as Navarro thrashed on the ground. Rain could only stand next to you in horror as everything unfolded.

Tyler and Bjorn were quick to react, their hands desperately trying to pry the creature off, but its grip was like iron.

The creature's tail was tightly wrapped around Navarro's neck, making every attempt to remove it perilous.

Tyler's voice was tense as he shouted instructions, trying to coordinate their efforts without causing further harm to Navarro. "Pull it! Pull it that way!"

"Fuck! I-I'm trying!" Bjorn's curses filled the air, his usual bravado drowned out by urgency and fear.

The creature's resilience was horrifying; it seemed to tighten its grip in response to their attempts.

The sight of Navarro, struggling and suffocating under the creature's hold, was almost too much to bear. Andy's presence was a small comfort, his large frame providing a physical barrier between you and the chaos.

The sight was unbearable—the creature's tail coiled like a vice around Navarro's neck, cutting off her air.

"Keep pulling! We have to get it off her!" Tyler barked, his voice strained with desperation. Bjorn, face set in grim determination, renewed his efforts, his hands slipping against the slick, sinewy body of the creature.

You knew if they didn't act fast, she wouldn't make it.

"Lift her up!" you commanded, stepping forward, your voice cutting through the chaos. "We need to get her to the main lab, now!"

Bjorn and Tyler exchanged a quick, frantic glance before complying. Bjorn, with a grunt of effort, scooped Navarro up, supporting her head and shoulders, while Tyler grabbed her legs.

Together, they moved quickly but carefully, carrying her down the narrow corridor toward the main science lab.

You ran ahead, clearing a path through the debris, heart pounding in your chest, every second stretching into an eternity.

Once inside the lab, they laid Navarro on the floor, her body convulsing slightly under the creature's weight. The lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows across the room, as if even the station itself was unsettled by the scene unfolding within its walls.

Tyler and Bjorn immediately resumed their attempts to remove the creature, but with every pull, the tail only seemed to tighten around Navarro's neck, her face growing paler, her breaths more ragged.

You could feel the panic rising in your chest as Navarro's breaths grew shorter and more desperate under the tight grip of the creature.

Rain's voice was frantic, filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "It's suffocating her! Stop! It's suffocating her!"

You could hear the panic in her voice, mirroring the fear coursing through your own veins. "Stop, Bjorn! Stop, goddammit! It's about to kill her!" you shouted, your voice a desperate plea.

But Andy's voice cut through the din, calm and devoid of emotion, sending a chill down your spine. "I don't think that's what the creature is doing."

Both you and Rain snapped your heads toward him, taken aback by the sudden change in his tone. It was as if something in him had shifted—his voice sounded colder, more detached, almost clinical. "Andy?" Rain asked, a note of confusion and fear in her voice.

Andy didn't look up. His eyes were fixed on Navarro and the creature, observing with an unnerving intensity. "The rhythmic pulse of the creature's abdomen is in time with her breathing," he noted, squatting down to get a closer look. "This suggests it's providing her with oxygen to keep her alive, though the reason remains unknown."

Realizing something was wrong Rain blinked, her fear turning into bewilderment. "What the—Andy, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Andy blinked, tilting his head to the side, his expression blank. "I'm an N-D-255 Weyland-Yutani synth with mining and guard functions. You called me 'Andy.' That is not my name."

You cursed under your breath, frustration boiling over. "That fucking module," you muttered, running a hand through your hair and gripping it in exasperation.

You knew the module would have altered him, but this… this was something else entirely.

Rain moved forward, reaching out to remove the module from Andy's neck, but before she could make contact, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising force. "Your name is Andy," she insisted, her voice firm, trying to remind him of who he was—or who he used to be.

Andy hummed, seemingly oblivious to her plea. He looked down at his hands and arms, turning them slowly as if seeing them for the first time. "The new module has upgraded both my powers and my AI," he explained with an unsettling calmness. "I am now in the process of repairing my motor system. A much-needed upgrade."

Bjorn, panting heavily from his efforts to remove the creature, shot a glare at Andy. "That's it, I'm roasting this shit," he growled, reaching for his weapon, ready to burn the creature off Navarro.

But before he could act, Andy's voice sliced through the room like a blade, cold and commanding. "No!"

Everyone jumped, startled by the sudden sharpness in his tone. For a moment, the room fell into a tense silence, everyone's eyes on Andy. "The current will cause its tail muscle to break her neck," he stated, his voice devoid of emotion but carrying an unmistakable weight of authority.

Bjorn, his frustration boiling over, snapped back, "What the hell do you want us to do, huh? What?"

Tyler, more composed but equally desperate, asked, "Do you know how we can help her?"

Andy remained silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the creature with a clinical detachment. "My databases are unchanged. I don't know what the creature is or how it can be removed." His gaze shifted to the damaged synthetic lying on the ground nearby. "But there is possibly someone in the room who does."

Following Andy's line of sight, Rain's eyes widened in realization. She turned to Tyler, her voice urgent. "Move that synthetic up onto the table! If we can reactivate it, maybe it can help us understand what we're dealing with."

Tyler nodded, and with Bjorn's help, they quickly lifted the mangled machine onto the lab table. Rain wasted no time.

You watched as she hooked the synthetic onto the motherboard computer behind it, your heart still racing, hoping desperately that this long shot might give them the answers they needed.

The hum of the machines filled the tense silence of the lab, their lights flickering as they whirred back to life. You could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating, as the weight of Navarro’s fate pressing down on all of you.

Finally, the synthetic sputtered to life, its head jerking slightly as if waking from a long slumber. His eyes flickered open, blinking slowly, filled with a vacant, eerie emptiness as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

His face and uniform were in a state of disarray, covered in grime and torn in places, revealing parts of his damaged, synthetic frame beneath. His shirt was soaked with a strange liquid—likely a mix of synthetic fluids and other substances—creating a sticky, uneven coating over his torso.

His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, his limbs twitching sporadically as if they struggled to respond to his internal commands. His left arm, twisted and partially mangled, hung at an unnatural angle, further highlighting the extent of his deterioration.

A large portion of his chest was missing, exposing the internal machinery and wiring, now sparking intermittently with blue and white lights.

He seemed to be fighting against his failing systems, his face contorted in an expression that might have been pain, confusion, or both.

"Must… secure… substance Z-01," he muttered, his voice halting and mechanical, filled with a strange urgency. "Highest priority. Must… complete the mission." His eyes were wide, his gaze unfocused as he repeated the words, almost like a mantra, its programming overriding its awareness, his programming seemingly overriding his awareness of his own damaged condition.

As you observed him, it became clear that the synthetic—Officer Rook, according to his nameplate—was barely functional—a ghost of his former self, struggling against both his failing systems and the urgency of his directive.

Andy stepped forward. "It pains me to say, but you have failed your mission."

Rook turned his head sharply, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What? No, I…" His voice faltered, the words trailing off into a hollow silence, as if he was trying to process this new information.

You moved closer to Andy, your heart racing, a mix of fear and urgency driving your actions. "How can we help her?"

Officer Rook slowly turned to face you, his gaze steady but distant he looked up from Navarro's twitching form. "You must not help her. You must escape. Hurry away," he said, his tone eerily calm, as if stating an obvious fact.

Bjorn, still holding on to a sliver of hope, shook his head defiantly. "Nah, no. We are not leaving her," he said, his voice hard and resolute.

Rook's expression remained unchanged, his voice mechanical and emotionless. "So show mercy and kill her. Otherwise, you will all die."

Rain turned to Andy, her face a mix of confusion and horror. "What does he mean?"

Andy looked at Rook, his synthetic eyes unblinking. "What does it do to her?"

Rook's head tilted slightly, as if trying to recall something from deep within his memory banks. "The parasitoid implants a Plagiarus praepotens in her. There, it will absorb her DNA and grow out of her," he explained, the words clinical, devoid of empathy.

Andy pressed on, his voice almost a whisper. "What will grow out of her?"

Rook's gaze shifted slightly, his voice now carrying a weight of grim certainty. "Xenomorph XX121. One of our ships came into contact with the specimen here two decades ago. Only one of the USS Nostromo's crew survived and blew the creature out of the airlock. We've been looking for it ever since. The xenomorph was brought on board, presumed dead. But lack of oxygen and food has no real meaning for this perfect organism. But nothing is immortal. Obviously. It razed the station until our surviving soldiers shot it and triggered its swan song."

You glanced around the room, your eyes catching on the large hole in the wall, the metal corroded and eaten away. "Acid blood?" you asked quietly, piecing together the horrors you'd read about in old reports and the devastation around you.

Rook nodded, confirming your fears. "Sulfuric and hydrochloric acid. I sealed the station, but too late."

Bjorn's patience snapped, his face contorted in anger and fear. "We are very happy with your ship! Now get to the fucking point on how to help my damn sister!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the lab, filled with desperation.

Rook turned his gaze back to Bjorn, his expression as cold and mechanical as ever. "There's no saving her," he said bluntly. "Just save yourselves while you still have time."

Tyler's eyes were wide with desperation, refusing to accept the cold truth presented by Rook. "There must be a way," he insisted. His gaze shifted to you and then back to the androids, seeking answers where there seemed to be none.

Bjorn's frustration boiled over, his movements erratic as he turned sharply to face both Rook and Andy. "No! There's gotta be a way! I'm not leaving without my sister!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "You two are fucking androids, figure it out!"

"Calm down, Bjorn," Tyler urged, trying to steady his own nerves even as his hands shook. "But he's right—there's got to be something we can do…"

Your mind raced, scanning the lab for anything that could help. As you paced around, your foot accidentally knocked into a knocked-over canister.

You glanced down and saw the label: cryofuel. The very thing that had been the reason for prolonging the original mission.

A spark of hope ignited in your mind. "What if we use the cryofuel to freeze the root of its tail?" you suggested, the idea spilling out in a rush. "Then it might stop suffocating her."

Rook paused, his head tilting slightly as if considering the idea. "It is a possibility."

Without wasting a second, you grabbed the canister and moved quickly to Navarro. Tyler and Bjorn helped hold her still as you carefully applied a controlled spray of cryofuel at the base of the creature’s tail, aiming to freeze the root without harming Navarro.

The creature shuddered violently, its grip loosening slightly. "Now!" you shouted.

Tyler and Bjorn pulled at the same time, and with a sickening squelch, the facehugger was dislodged, falling to the ground with a thud.

Rain immediately recoiled, her voice a sharp cry of fear. "Get it away!" Tyler was quick to dispose of the creature in the large hole.

Bjorn pulled Navarro into his arms, his breath coming in quick, panicked bursts as he held her close. "It's gone. I have you," he whispered, trying to soothe her as she panted and looked around, disoriented and scared.

Rook, however, remained unshaken, his gaze fixed on Navarro. "I'm not so sure about that."

A ripple of confusion spread through the group, but Andy's expression grew serious, catching onto Rook’s meaning. "What are the odds?"

Rook's reply was matter-of-fact, as though stating the weather. "60/40 against your friend."

Rain's face twisted with confusion and fear. "The odds for what? Andy, what's he's talking about?" she demanded.

Rook's blank gaze shifted towards her, his voice coldly factual. "For the creature to finish its mission, of course."

A cold dread settled over the group. As Rain, Bjorn, Tyler, and you crowded around Navarro, checking on her condition and trying to offer comfort, you noticed Andy speaking quietly with Rook out of the corner of your eye.

Something about their exchange caught your attention—an urgency, a quiet intensity in their otherwise emotionless faces.

You broke away from the group, moving closer to hear their conversation. Just as you approached, you caught Rook’s final words to Andy, his tone unusually commanding. "...You must help them. You must help them."

The statement hung in the air, filling you with a mix of confusion and dread.

As you all headed back to the Corbelan, the events of the past few minutes weighed heavily on everyone, each step echoing with uncertainty and fear.

Andy's normally calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a focused intensity that sent a chill down your spine. His directives, altered by Rook's module, seemed to drive him toward a single, unyielding conclusion.

When the group reached the airlock leading to the hauler, you noticed Andy pause, his eyes fixed on Navarro. His posture stiffened, and his gaze was unnervingly blank, as if processing a difficult decision.

You gently touched his arm to get his attention. "Andy? What's wrong? Do you know what's happening?" you asked softly, your voice laced with concern.

Andy stared at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before turning his gaze back to Navarro. "We can't take her back to the ship," he declared firmly, stepping forward to block the exit to the airlock connecting to the hauler.

Bjorn's reaction is immediate. Fear and frustration boiling over, he grabbed a large stun baton from the nearby equipment rack. "You deranged pig!" he shouted, rage filling his eyes as he prepared to charge at Andy.

You rushed between them, raising your hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, calm down!" you pleaded, your voice steady despite the rising panic. "I'm sure he's got a reason. Let's see what he has to say!"

Bjorn looked at you, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions—hurt, anger, desperation. His arm dropped slightly, but his voice was still laced with bitterness. "Y/N…" he muttered, but the hurt quickly morphed back into anger. "Fuck off! I'm not keeping my sister here! You can stay behind with your fucking boy toy all you want," he spat, his voice dripping with venom as he turned to help Navarro up.

Together, they shuffled toward the door, but Andy quickly stepped between them and the exit again, his movements deliberate and unyielding. "You must understand that there are certain choices that must be made," he said, his tone calm yet firm. "And I'm afraid you all won't make the right one if I don't step in."

Bjorn's face twisted into a feral grin, his patience gone. "I warned you—" he growled, suddenly swinging the stun baton with brutal force.

The highest voltage coursed through Andy, causing him to convulse violently before being flung several feet away, crashing against the metal wall with a heavy thud.

"No!" you screamed, rushing over to Andy with Rain right behind you. "Andy!" Your heart pounded in your chest as you reached his side, your hands fumbling for the Reboot Key, desperate to bring him back online.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Bjorn pulled Navarro through the airlock and onto the hauler. "Let's get away. Come on, come on. Come on, Tyler," he urged, his voice tight with urgency as he dragged Navarro toward the controls.

Tyler hesitated, his eyes flickering between the leaving Bjorn and Navarro, and Rain, who was still kneeling beside you next to Andy. His face was torn with indecision, his loyalty divided. "We can't leave her," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze lingering longingly on Rain.

You could feel the weight of his choice in that moment, the pain of what it would mean to leave Rain behind.

Unfortunately, despite your efforts, Bjorn and Navarro reached the ship first.

You heard the dull thud of the airlock sealing shut, trapping you, Tyler, Rain, and Andy on the station. The cold, metallic echo reverberated through the corridor, a stark reminder of your current predicament.

Andy twitched violently from the voltage, his systems struggling to stabilize. His voice, distorted and shaky, broke the tense silence. "F-Forgive me. I have always been nothing but a burden to you. Today I can finally help you. Don't see me as a child anymore." As he finished speaking, he looked directly into your eyes, a strange mix of determination and sadness in his expression.

Then, just as quickly, his body stiffened, freezing in place as the reboot process took over.

"A-Andy?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the station around you. The fear of losing him gnawed at your insides, but you couldn't afford to panic—not now.

On the other side of the airlock, Bjorn watched the scene unfolding with a deep scowl. His face was set in a mixture of anger and sadness, his mind clearly made up. "Navarro, disconnect the ship!" he barked, his voice echoing in the enclosed space.

The overhead system chimed in, a calm but firm voice announcing, "Disconnection initiated. Please escape the airlock."

You glanced up, seeing the airlock doors sliding shut with a mechanical finality. Your heart pounded in your chest as you helped Andy to his feet, your mind racing for a way out of this.

"What the hell is he doing?" Tyler shouted, his voice tinged with frustration and confusion as he looked towards the sealed airlock.

Rain, her expression a mix of fear and resignation, answered quietly, "He thinks Andy will kill Navarro." Her eyes flickered with uncertainty as she tried to piece together Bjorn's reasoning.

Tyler turned his gaze toward Andy, who was still rebooting, his body rigid and his face expressionless. "What? Does he want it?" Tyler asked, trying to make sense of the chaotic situation.

Rain glanced back at Andy, who now stood upright, his eyes gazing intently at the side of your head as if lost in some internal process before he turned to face the airlock, his expression still unreadable. "I don't know," Rain whispered, her voice heavy with uncertainty.

Something deeper was at play, something all you needed to understand if any of you were going to make it out alive.

A/N: hey guys! i'm back with another update, but before i leave i want to be honest/frank. once again, i'm receiving messages/asks critiquing what i've written so far and though i'm thankful that my writing is garnering enough attetntion to even experince this, i just want to say that it's really kinda offputting that i'm being told that Andy shouldn't be written with the intent of romance. ima keep it short and cute because i could literally make an entire post about this (as a matter of fact i will do just that) but just understand that i will continue to create showcase Andy in the romantic light because he deserves it just as all the other cast does...

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer sadslasher13 ravenswife izzymae288 fairy-cores-world

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dandelionsresilience · 7 months ago

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Dandelion News - December 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles for 50% off this month!

1. These high-tech windows fight climate change – and will save you money

“[“Vacuum-insulated glass”] insulates five times better than double-paned glass. The Enthermal product line holds energy about as well as fiberglass wall insulation[…. T]he energy bill savings offset the upfront cost of the upgrade in two to seven years, depending on the building[….]”

2. Doulas test ways to curb Memphis’ Black maternal, infant deaths

“Research shows they are key to better health outcomes. […] Free of charge, [parents enrolled in this pilot program], in addition to being paired with a doula, get access to free yoga classes, diapers, breastfeeding starter kits, nutritious food and other tangible help that can measurably boost well-being.”

3. Scientists find feeding grazing cattle seaweed cuts methane emissions by almost 40%

“This is the first study to test seaweed on grazing beef cattle in the world. […] Most research to reduce methane emissions using feed additives has taken place in controlled environments with daily supplements. But Kebreab noted in the study that fewer than half of those methods are effective for grazing cattle.”

4. Success for local residents as Florida council toppled over sewage plant plan

“A citizens’ revolt in a small Florida city ousted an entire slate of councilors who were pushing for a new sewage plant to be built close to one of the state’s most pristine and treasured rivers.”

5. Beaver survey aims to show the urban benefits of Chicago's 'ecosystem engineers'

“Urban Rivers is installing [“artificial floating gardens”] along the river to restore native wetland habitats, which provide food and shelter for wildlife, as well as natural spaces for humans.”

6. The future of plastic: Biodegradable, durable, and even edible

“[… T]he composite plastic proved not only sturdy but also more malleable than its core component, hydroxyethyl cellulose. Additionally, since both cellulose and tyrosine are edible, the biodegradable composite plastic can technically be consumed.”

7. Limestone quarries could be vital for wild bee conservation

“Quarries provide valuable habitats for wild bees and other animals and plants that occur on the now rare calcareous grasslands," explains lead author Dr. Felix Kirsch[….]”

8. New England wedding vendors offer help to same-sex couples before Trump inauguration

“Marriage equality isn’t immediately at risk. Trump has said he considers it settled law, but of course it’s hard to take him at his word […] so vendors in the region are offering free or discounted services to queer couples and noncitizens in a rush to marry.”

9. The indigenous women saving India's endangered giant yams

“Since their formation in 2022, the 10 members of the Noorang group have planted and brought back to the community 180 varieties of wild tubers[….] The project is part of [… a] farming initiative to eradicate poverty, provide agricultural training and empower women in vulnerable tribal communities.”

10. The US is making and deploying more solar panels than ever before

“[… D]omestic solar module manufacturing capacity has nearly quintupled since 2022[….] Solar is the cheapest source of new power generation by far, and it’s an increasingly large employer in the U.S., particularly in Republican-led states.”

November 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

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rheatyrano · 17 days ago

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Of Bots and Blastshields - Chapter 1

Idea by @super-ion, and encouraged by @digitalsymbiote "ultra long haul star ship where the human crew is in cryo sleep for decades. The navigational AI and the engineering AI remain active for the duration of the voyage to monitor system errors. They remain entirely isolated from each other for resiliency reasons, but find a way to strike up a conversation and form a strange sort of long distance relationship"

========

Commencing Diagnostic Panel Jotun v1.7

Commencing Primary System Check

Primary Systems: Online

Commencing Secondary System Check

Secondary Systems: Online

Analyzing Energy Core

Result: Optimal.

System log generated. Dumping to folder :Engineering/Auto_Logs/Year_3/Month_9: . File 100937472_0921 Saved.

Waiting...

Commencing CryoStorage Scan

Result: CryoStorage Optimal. No faults found. Passenger safety optimal.

Waiting...

Waiting...Waiting...Waiting...

Commencing Primary System Check

Error: Primary System Check on Standby until 2 Hours 47 Minutes 34 Seconds have passed.

Error: Primary System Check on Standby until 2 Hours 47 Minutes 14 Seconds have passed.

Error: Primary System Check on Standby until 2 Hours 46 Minutes 41 Seconds have passed.

Error: Primary System Check on Standby until 2 Hours 44 Minutes 10 Seconds have passed.

EMERGENCY: Quaternary Navigation Module is Offline. Priority One Repair Needed!

(Personal File Saved: "Finally.txt")

Location: Sector 7, Area 45, Designation: Mess Hall

Dispatching Repair-And-Maintenance Bot H-001 to repair.

=====================

(Saving personal file: "I_should_get_paid_more.txt")

...

(Saving personal file: "I_should_get_paid.txt")

ALERT: Debris approaching! Evasive Maneuvers Suggested! Engaging-

Alert Cleared: Trajectory Corrected.

Tally added to Table "Daily non-emergency count". Total count: 83.

Resuming previous function: Process "Rifling through their stuff because what else can I do?"

Accessing private files of Passenger-001257, "Callie Sullivan".

Multiple files matching designation "Visual Novel".

Copying data for- PROCESS INTERRUPTED

ALERT: Debris approaching! Evasive Maneuvers Suggested! Engaging-

Alert Cleared: Trajectory Corrected.

...

Resuming previous function.

Files successfully copied.

Now accessing executable file "My AI Girlfriend Overheats my Unencrypted Pu-"

EMERGENCY: Quaternary Navigation Module is Offline. Priority One Repair Needed!

(Saving personal file: "FUCK_MY_FUCKING_LIFE.txt")

Dispatching Repair-And-Maintenance Bot O-001 to repair.

===============

The "Repair-And-Maintenance Bots", more commonly shortened to "Ram-bots", were designed to perform remote tasks under AI direction. They were perfect for situations where organic life could not survive or would be otherwise unavailable, such as aboard a colony ship mid-transit.

The Ram-bot designated H-001 disconnected from its charging bay and began its startup routine. Motor functions were normal, systems operating at full capacity. All that was left was the neural link.

Hræsvelgr (pronun: Hrace-vel-grr), AI in charge of all Engineering for the XSS Kalimera colony ship, connected their consciousness to the Ram-bot, and began injecting subroutines for the task at hand. The Quaternary Navigation Module was located within the ship's Mess Hall; a notably distant location from Engineering proper.

As the blank android slowly walked down the corridors, Hræsvelgr could feel the wireless connection growing more faint. Instructions and responses had increasing latency between them; thankfully negligible in the grand scheme of this voyage, but still an annoyance.

(Saving file: "Request-134762_Extension_Of_Engineering_Locale".txt")

Granted, the passengers were not due to wake up for at least 12 years, but notation was important.

The door to the mess hall, at last. The delay had now grown to 4.879 standardized minutes. Hræsvelgr activated the door controls, and the mess hall opened for the mechanical being they operated. The room contained two high priority features of note:

1. The Quaternary Navigation Module, somehow visible, the concealment panel hanging on by a single bolt, a spark emanating from it an random intervals;

And 2.........the unidentified Ram-bot that had just opened the mess hall door across the room from them.

(Saving file: “This_is_unexpected”.txt)

=======================

(Saving file: "HOLY_FUCK_WHO_IS_THAT".txt)

Olympia, Grand Navigation Matrix of Optimal Proprietary Excellence for the XSS Kalimera colony ship, tried her best to compute the sight before her. A Ram-bot, that was not part of her suite, standing across the mess hall, staring at her Ram-bot in a mirror image of quantum shock.

She quickly sent a vocalization command to O-001. Yes, she knew it would take 5.998 standard minutes to reach it and actually say the string, but this was important enough to be hasty.

What was this? Had an intruder boarded the ship somehow? That wouldn't be possible. That SHOULD NOT be possible. Her sensors should have notified her of ANYTHING approaching the ship! Unless somehow a passenger had woken early and was now enacting a mutiny and seizing the ship and systematically dismantling all mantles and systems and soon it would come for her in the Navigation Station and then-

"Identify yourself, please."

"WHO THE FUCK IS YOU?!"

...

......

........................

A long silence descended as both androids vocalized at the same microsecond. Time passed. Much longer than the latency period. Olympia did not send any new instructions, waiting.......anticipating. This was...beyond her programming. This was new. This situation was not accounted for in the READ.ME file. This was-

"I am Hræsvelgr of Kalimera, Artificial Intelligence for Engineering."

Oh. OH. Another AI, on the ship. That...that made sense. She was not running the ENTIRE ship, so logically, it made sense that-

"Now then...may I ask, who the fuck is YOU?"

How long had she been thinking to herself?! Was this AI telling the truth? What if...............she needed to answer.

"Oh hi, sorry. I didn't realize. I am very sorry for the intrusion into your duties. My designation is Olympia, Grand Navigation Matrix of Optimal Proprietary Excellence for the XSS Kali-########Error143- vocalization file too large, message appended."

Silence descended again. Olympia waited, and waited, and waited, and waited and course corrected, and waited, and course corrected again, and filed a personal log, and waited...until a response came that sent a (Unknown Motion - "Shudder"?) though her core.

"...We were designed to not know of each other's presence on this ship. This encounter should not exist."

"Oh..."

========

*Thanks for reading! This is my first story posted here, first story written in a long time. Any advice is appreciated, and hope to post the next part.................sometime(tm).

#rhea writes #not ai generated #but it is about AI #but not like THAT #eventual lesbians

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