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[jpttools]

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[oo60sec]

Battle of the Tools: 8–22mm Wrench Takes on Common Competitors!

[ebrahim3030]

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[hannahbarberra162]

Not My Monkey, Chapter 4 (Reverse Trope Isekai reader, platonic Strawhats, Reader x Jinbei)

on Ao3

The other chapters

Finally! An update no one asked for.  I tried not to be heavy handed about the hair stuff but I get the feeling 1) Usopp wouldn’t want locs bc of complicated feelings towards Yasopp and 2) growing up, people told him that his hair is “difficult” because it’s not straight / wavy. I just want my bby to ✨shine ✨ and there's definitely no old feelings I'm projecting onto Usopp. Also I’m not a hairstylist so idk if I got everything right. 

“So where’re we going anyway?” you asked while your hands busied themselves brushing out Usopp’s beautiful hair. You were sitting behind him on a stool while the young man sat on the deck of the ship, the two of you falling into easy conversation. You’d given him a few options for a style and he’d decided on half cornrows half natural. It made sense since you’d always seen him in a bandana to keep the hair out of his face while the rest of his hair hung freely. You were brushing part of the front out in preparation for the braiding process but at least Usopp wasn’t super tender headed.

“Right now we’re on the way to an island to restock on supplies. After that we’re headed to melee with some crews we’re allied with,” Usopp said, wincing as you got out a particularly large snarl with your brush.

“Melee? Like fight them? Why?” You replied, scrunching your face, the knot still fighting you. 

“Well, the so-called canon events that would have made us stronger didn’t happen. We still need to increase our strength so Luffy can be Pirate King. Luffy didn’t fight Crocodile, Doflamingo, Marineford didn’t happen…” You nodded along even though you didn’t know any of these people or events. “So Robin had the idea to have the crews fight one another, no holds barred. It’s us, the Heart Pirates, the Kid Pirates, and some of the Whitebeard Pirates. The only rule will be no killing,” Usopp said, bringing an already bitten nail to his mouth to chew. 

“Hmmm. And what do you do for fighting? Is that - er, how do you fight? Sorry, I’m not familiar with this kind of stuff,” you said to continue the conversation while separating his hair with a rat tailed comb and clipping the rest away, slapping some edge control onto the part. You had a little bit of edge control gel in a travel sized tub but you kept most of your braiding tools in another kit that was at your apartment. Most of the time all you did was cut, dye, and style for middle aged women, nothing too exciting.

“I’m the crew’s sniper,” Usopp explained while pantomiming a slingshot. 

“Really? That’s incredible!” you said with the comb between your teeth. You were starting to braid and Usopp winced slightly.

“Yow, those are tight!” 

“What, never had braids before?” you asked, laughing lightly at his expense.

“No, not really. I’ve always worn it plain. I never knew what to do with it and it was always so unmanageable -” you smacked Usopp gently with the comb before interrupting.

“It’s not unmanageable, don’t say that. And it’s not plain either. Maybe you just needed some instruction on how to get it to work for you.” You’d never liked when people were down about their hair, particularly when it wasn’t perfectly straight. “Your hair is stunning, so many of my clients would be jealous if they saw you. Probably ask you out too.” You dropped the last bit of information nonchalantly, like it had just slipped from your tongue. 

“Ah, heh. That’s - that’s nice. I actually have a, um, there’s a girl who I - well, we write letters now. But we were best friends when I lived in Syrup Village,” Usopp stammered, his cheeks turning dark red.

“You have a girlfriend? I’m not surprised given how handsome and smart you are. Tell me about her, what’s she like? How’d you meet?” you asked, genuinely curious. Usopp launched into his first mostly true tale, telling you about Kaya and how he’d met Luffy and the crew, how they fought Kuro and Django and saved Kaya from Kuro’s evil plans.

“That’s quite a story! No wonder she loves you,” you said at the end of his story, only about a quarter way through braiding. You had done cornrows quite a few times but it wasn’t your bread and butter. Other stylists were way faster than you, but they hadn’t pseudo died and ended up on a pirate ship so he got what he got. Besides, Luffy had already stopped by three times to see if Usopp was free to hang out. He’d watched you braid for a few minutes in silent contemplation before asking when you’d be done. It seemed Usopp was the Captain’s main babysitter…er, friend. 

“Mhmm, and that’s only the beginning of what’s happened. We didn’t do the whole Alabasta arc because a reader interfered with Thatch and Teach -” You stopped Usopp from launching into another tale so you could get a few details. 

“Yeah, about that. I need you to give me, like, the details of this world. Like, why can Luffy stretch? Why are there so many pirates? Who would you need to fight against? Who are those people? How much does stuff cost? Things like that so I can kind of understand what’s happening.” Usopp tried to nod but you had his hair tightly in your hands.

“ Ouch, oh, right. Ok, so, let’s start with Gol D. Roger, the One Piece, and Devil Fruits….”

By the time you’d finished braiding Usopp’s hair, you’d heard the history of Gol D. Roger, the One Piece, the Golden Age of Pirates, and that Luffy wanted to be King of the Pirates. “So what is it though? The one piece? Like a treasure chest?” you asked, tying off the last braid.

“No one knows, we don’t even know where it is. That’s part of what Robin does, she reads the Poneglyphs for us,” Usopp explained as you began putting things away. You heard delicate violin music dancing through the air, lifting your spirits immensely. You’d always loved violin but lacked the money to ever afford one or pay for lessons. You practiced piano at the Community center and had a cheap keyboard you’d bought at a garage sale years prior. You’d had the same piano teacher for years and you paid her in haircuts.

“So. We’re looking for something that we don’t know what it is, where it is, or what it does. And the person who suggested we go look for it was executed by the military. Just making sure I understand,” you said, raising a brow.

“Yes,” Usopp confirmed, fiddling with the ends of his hair.

“And there’s no official maps of the world, we’re using a compass that resets frequently and Nami’s brainpower to sail around on dangerous seas that are known for their unpredictable weather and extreme monsters,” you continued.

“That’s right,” Usopp said, now nibbling his lip.

“And there are several members of the crew, including the Captain, who can’t go into the sea or they’ll lose their will to live and drown. And there are huge bounties on all of you from the government of the world -”

“Well, the Marines, really -”

“And Robin is a former mobster, Zoro is a former bounty hunter, Brook is a twice over dead pirate who is now the top charting performer in the world, Chopper is a full reindeer and was trained by a quack doctor, and Franky turned himself into a cyborg who runs on coke. Did I get that all right?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“And Luffy - that Luffy” you said, pointing to the Captain who was currently picking his nose and wiping it on Chopper’s fur as the doctor worked, “will become a God in the near future, capable of bending reality to his whims.”

“Yes. Though now that it’s all laid out I feel like I’m getting sick,” Usopp confirmed while putting the back of his hand on his forehead. You had one more thought to clarify before you let the sniper go back to his duties. 

“Is Jinbei a mermaid?” you asked, your thoughts drifting to the helmsman as they had a few times that morning. Usopp laughed at you, making your face flush.

“H-hey! I’m not from here, how’m I s’posed to know these things?” you sputtered, putting the last of your things away.

“He’s not a mermaid, he’s a fishman. They’re kinda similar but separate species. He’s actually pretty famous, he was a Warlord for a long time but left them to join the crew when Luffy explained to him everything that happened. He’s really strong, he can control water, breathe underwater, knows fishman karate, he’s the best helmsman in the world, really respectful, yeah, Jinbei’s great,” Usopp trailed off after listing Jinbei’s qualities on his fingers. You added the information to your growing pile of Jinbei facts to be used in case you ever had an actual conversation with him.

“Alright, my guy. You’re all set, whaddya think?” you asked, handing Usopp a small mirror. He examined his appearance, giving his reflection a shy smile. “I think you look so handsome,” you said over his shoulder. He flushed a little but covered it quickly with a change of the subject. 

“Yeah, I mean but I’m more known for my fighting skills. Being handsome is nothing next to defeating 1,000 -” You cut off Usopp with a pinch to his cheek, pulling hard on his cute face.

“I’m off to piano lessons with Brook -I’ll be back later to do Nami’s hair. Maybe other crew’s too, if they want. Find me before you go to bed tonight, I’ll see if I have something for you to wrap your hair in,” you said, dismissing Usopp. You were nervous for your lesson with Brook, and not just because he was a nine foot tall living skeleton. You weren’t all that confident in your piano skills despite putting a lot of effort into practising over the last few years. And the piano on the ship was on the main deck - everyone was going to hear you if you made any mistakes. Crossing the deck to Brook’s piano, you saw he was the one playing the violin, his bone fingers deftly creating the tune everyone had been enjoying. You didn’t interrupt his performance but listened to the unfamiliar song as he continued to play. Ending on one long forlorn note, Brook lowered his bow as the note rang out in the air.

“Ah, Misty, thank you for joining me. Before we begin, may I -” you glowered at the skeleton in response to what you assumed his request would be. Maybe your angry face would stop him from asking to -

“-see your panties?” he continued in the exact vein you thought he would. You rolled your eyes.

“How can you see my panties if you have no eyes? And no,” you said dismissively, tossing your head with a saucy attitude. The skeleton looked at you for a moment then burst into a contagious laughter.

“YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO, an excellent point! I enjoy those jokes myself. Now, let’s see where you are, would you like to warm up?” Brook said after wiping a tear from his eye, offering you his baby Grand Piano to play. 

And so, about an hour later, Brook was teaching you simplified music to the song he was playing previously, called “Bink’s Sake.” Despite his penchant for panties, Brook was an excellent piano teacher, even better than your old teacher Mrs. Howell. He was patient, kind, and you didn’t think anyone could know more about music theory than he did. After finishing the basic opening melody one more time, you sighed and rolled your head on your shoulders.

‘I apologize, I don’t think I have anything else in me right now,” you said, shutting the key lid as Brook lowered his bow.

“No need to apologize, I think you did excellently. I would love to hear any music you may know from your world. But perhaps another time,” the skeleton said with a bow.

“I have a hunch you’d like Billy Joel. But really, thank you, Brook,” you said, taking his bony hand in your own and patting it. Brook tilted his head but it was difficult to read his expression. 

“I’m sorry, do you not like being touched?” you asked, dropping his hand in case it made him uncomfortable.

“Not at all, I - I appreciate it,” he said in a quiet voice. You smiled and turned to head to Nami’s tangerine grove, where the redhead was tapping her foot in impatience for a haircut even as she smiled in anticipation. From one world to the next, there would always be those clients, you thought.

Sitting Nami down in a chair that was on the deck, you spoke to her about her preferences and what she was expecting out of her style. Brushing through her hair, you saw that whoever had been doing it previously was doing a pretty good job. They were obviously amateur but they had enough sense and skill to get it done quite well. 

“Nami, who usually cuts your hair?” you asked as you picked up your shears. Opening and shutting them a few times made you realize you’d need to sharpen them soon. Sanji probably had a whetstone or something you could use, he would have to sharpen his knives regularly as a chef. 

“Sanji does, he cuts everyone’s hair,” she explained, moving her head to gesticulate. Pointing her head back in the direction you needed you continued to cut her dead ends off.

“Seems like he does a lot around here,” you mused. No wonder Sanji smoked so much, you thought, the man was constantly working. Maybe you could show him some haircut pointers for after you died again. Just a few adjustments to his technique and he’d make a fine hairstylist, you thought.

“He does, but he likes it. You’ll see, he’ll be here in under 5 minutes offering us some kind of beverage and snack,” the redhead said with a shrug. “Wanna bet on it?” she asked with a grin. You declined-  Nami undoubtedly took in a lot of suckers but you wouldn’t be one of them. 

“So why did you want my pens? I think I have some more, I’ll have to dig around,” you said, not wanting to mix business and pleasure.

“If I don’t get pens from the Readers I have to go back to using a quill and ink for my maps which is so much worse. Messier, less legible, less precise, all around a pain in the ass. Generally I think your world seems like shit but you do have great pens,” Nami stated, moving her her for emphasis.

“You’re gonna have an uneven haircut if you don’t stop moving around,” you scolded her while redirecting her head and continuing to snip. As Nami had predicted, Sanji had come around with a serving tray with three deep red drinks and three plates of petit-fours. 

“For you, Mellorines,” he presented with a flourish. Nami took two drinks and handed one to you. 

“Thank you, Sanji,” she said as you took a sip. It was some kind of tropical juice, maybe watermelon mixed with passion fruit? You hadn’t had the flavor before but it was refreshing in the afternoon sun. A rubbery arm snaked around the nearest tangerine tree trunk to grab the third glass from behind but Sanji deftly kicked the Captain’s hand away without turning his attention away from you and Nami.

“Thank you Sanji, it’s delicious,” you said as Sanji preened. He had to shift to push the Captain’s face away with his foot as Luffy continued his attempts to eat the snacks. 

“It’s not FAIR!” Luffy whined, stomping his foot petulantly as he returned to his normal shape. “You always give Mellonades good snacks and never me! And I’m the Captain!”

“Mellorines, and OF COURSE I DO, they’re ladies! You don’t deserve them! I’ve seen you eat live bugs before!” Sanji yelled back, pulling the Captain’s ear like laffy taffy. You smiled as you worked on Nami’s hair - they were certainly a lively and entertaining bunch of folks to hang around. You didn’t know if you could do it long term but that wasn’t on the table anyway. 

“BUT I WOULDN’T IF YOU GAVE ME SNACKS!” Luffy insisted, launching to wrap himself around Sanji’s head. Nami continued talking, sharing some bits of information about the island you’d shortly be docking at. You started setting her hair in large curlers as it air dried - you really wished you had a hair dryer right about now. Maybe you could ask Franky to build you one. He clearly had a way with mechanics if he could power his own body on coca cola. You’d ask him later that night after you were done with the crew haircuts.

“Sanji, would you like me to show you a few pointers next time I cut someone’s hair? You’re doing a fantastic job, the crew all look wonderful. Since hairstyling is my main source of income, I can show you a few tricks to making the finished result look a little more cohesive? But only if you want. Like I said, you’re doing a phenomenal job already,” you explained, holding a tuft of Nami’s hair between your fingers. Sanji blushed so hard you thought blood was going to start coming out his nose. 

“Ah, that would be excellent, thank -” Sanji started before being cut off by Nami.

“Ha! Sanji got told he’s a good boy!” Nami pointed out, laughing without malice.

“He is a good boy,” you said with a firm nod to Sanji. The poor kid looked like he was going to pass out on the deck but no one seemed worried. Despite knowing him only a day or so, you could tell Sanji was a good kid. Sure, maybe he was a little fucked up, but who wasn’t? You trusted your instincts about people and they told you Sanji was a sweetheart.  

“Hey Luffy, can you show me some of your fighting moves? I’ve never seen any before but Usopp told me they’re really powerful” you asked while winding Nami’s hair around a large curler. Usopp hadn’t actually mentioned Luffy’s attacks but you thought it might change the subject and distract the Captain from annoying Sanji. The chef needed a break after all that work and teasing from the crew. 

“Oh yeah!! You’re gonna love this! Check this out – GUM GUM PISTOL!” Luffy yelled as he launched his arm towards the Crow’s Nest. Using the Crow’s Nest as a grounding point, he hurled himself into the air like a rubber band. It was kind of cool but you didn’t really see how it made him one of the strongest pirates on the seas like Usopp had said.

“LUFFY YOU FUCKING IDIOT! MAKE SURE YOU LAND ON THE BOAT!” Zoro yelled out from the Crow’s Nest. You watched Luffy turn into a small speck as he ascended higher and higher. Hopefully the kid had a good sense of his own limits, you thought, otherwise he’d be sinking to the bottom of the sea like Usopp had told you. As he descended rapidly you could hear Luffy’s childish laugh from where you stood as he slammed back down onto the deck, causing the ship to rock heavily to one side. The sensation wasn’t pleasant as your stomach turned with the large dip. You tried to think of something else to occupy the Captain so he didn’t do that again.

“What if Usopp shot things into the air and you tried to get them before they hit the deck?” you asked, already looking back down at Nami’s hair. It kind of reminded you of when your nieces showed you their “cool tricks,” which were mostly of them jumping off various surfaces and inevitably getting hurt. Luffy’s mouth and eyes opened wide as he threw his hands in the air.

“USOPP! COME SHOOT STUFF FOR ME!” 

“You know, this is just fetch,” Nami said to you quietly, turning her head from side to side in order to admire her hair in the mirror.

“Ha, yeah, I guess so. Does it matter? Look how happy he is -” you said, putting a bonnet over Nami’s hair for protection from getting wet while it set. 

“LUFFY NOT THE DISHES!” Nami yelled, already out of her chair with her fist raised to chastise the Captain - who had a plate in his hands. You couldn’t help but laugh - what a bunch of goobers. Deciding to offer cuts to the rest of the crew as a thank you for letting you stay with them for a few weeks, you looked around to see who was near. Robin was reading on a beach chair in the shade of a tree, turning pages with extra hands as she skimmed through the book.

“Robin, would you like a haircut?” you asked over the din of Luffy missing a ball Usopp had launched, the pair yelling and laughing. They’d been joined by Chopper who was watching Luffy stretch and jump to catch things with childish glee.

“No thank you, I’m content with the way it looks now,” she said with a smile and tilt of her head. “Besides, we are arriving at Widow’s Island momentarily. It will take the rest of us a few hours to get everything ready for departure from the ship but Luffy is likely to -”

“HEY! I CAN SEE THE ISLAND! WE’RE HERE!” Luffy yelled, immediately dropping the bowl he’d caught from Usopp’s last toss. Grabbing onto the mast, Luffy stretched himself backwards like Usopp’s slingshot.

“He’s not gonna -” 

“He is. It’s quite alright, he’s done this many times before,” Robin said calmly, a hand placing a bookmark between the pages she was reading. “Don’t worry, Jinbei, Sanji or Zoro will save him if he miscalculates his trajectory,” Robin continued, as if the Captain drowning was no big matter.

“Yeah, Usopp told me about Devil Fruits and drowning. That’s quite the price to pay for someone who spends their life on the seas,” you mused. You began cleaning and putting away your tools as the rest of the crew prepared the ship for docking. You’d help with whatever they needed as soon as you were done but everything had to be put away properly first.

“Mm. It’s not so bad, Luffy falls into the water most often. I haven’t once since I ate my fruit,” Robin said, handing her book to a hand that put it on a nearby shelf.

“I think Brook would have the worst time with falling in the water, no? I mean, he doesn’t have to breathe so it’s not like he’d drown. The rest of you would be dead in what - 5 minutes tops? That’s not as bad as Brook, who would drift down to the bottom of the ocean, slowly being crushed by the immense pressure of the water as he descended into pure darkness where not even a single ray of light could penetrate the inky depths. He’d be pulverized slowly over the course of months, maybe years, unable to see or hear or move as he waits for death in a sealed watery tomb. That would be worse, right?” you mused, thinking through the implications of drowning as a living skeleton. Robin nodded solemnly as she listened.

“I’ve never thought about it that way, but you’re quite right! Don’t fall in Brook,” she warned the musician with a light laugh, who was slack jawed with shock along with Chopper and Usopp. He took a step back from the side of the ship towards the middle of the deck.

“What? I’m just saying...and uh, Jinbei, Sanji or Zoro would save you before that happened so…don’t worry?” you hesitated as Brook slammed his jaw shut.

“I think you and I will become friends,” Robin said, putting a disembodied hand on your shoulder. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile even as the Thing-like arm unnerved you and patted your back. 

You looked over and Luffy had his arms stretched out the length of the ship, his feet hooked on the back railing as he prepared to fling himself. Looking over at you, he smiled widely. You could see why he’d attracted so many people - he had a strange kind of charisma that drew people in. 

“You’ll be here tonight, right? To tell me the next part of the story about Oz?” he asked, still holding the mast.

“Uh, yeah, I mean, I - where else would I go?” you asked, confused. 

“I dunno, sometimes Nami and Robin stay at hotels on islands but I don’t like to. Alright, you, me n’ Jinbe! It’s a date! Bye! YAHOOOOOOOO -” Luffy yelled, finally releasing his arms and catapulting himself to the island. Based on the sand cloud that appeared on the far away beach, he’d made it there safely. Or at least hadn’t landed in the water. You blushed lightly at the Captain’s choice of words but he didn’t mean anything by it.

“It is my turn to guard the ship and I too prefer sleeping on the ship - it is closest to the water. I shall be here to hear your story,” Jinbe said with a smile from his post by the helm. You didn’t know if Luffy had engineered the situation by chance or by choice but you would enjoy spending the time together regardless.

[leejenowrld]

haeun speaks well for a child at her age. what are some learning activities Jaemin or y/n have created by hand or buy for her?

absolutely! haeun is very developed for her age, she is very smart, she’s the smartest and make articulate two years old that you’ll ever meet. given how adored and precociously verbal haeun is at age two, you can imagine jaemin and y/n pouring so much creativity (and tenderness) into her daily learning—especially with long hospital days and the way their love translates into hand-made and tactile activities designed just for her. here are some soft, deeply detailed examples:

1. the “heart map” puzzle handmade by jaemin on a rare day off: he traces a simple outline of a heart (anatomically accurate, because… dr. na) on thick felt, then cuts it into soft, easy-to-handle puzzle pieces. each segment has a sewn-on label in big, phonetic letters (“boom boom,” “bwoood,” “luvvie valve”). they “build” the heart together, with jaemin naming each piece, letting haeun repeat after him, clapping wildly whenever she says a tricky word. sometimes he’ll let her “listen” to each piece with her toy stethoscope, making little whooshing sounds as she presses the felt against her chest.

2. story-stone kits y/n paints smooth pebbles with tiny pictures—ballerinas, bunnies, sunny faces, hearts, flowers, their family—then hides them in a fabric pouch. each night before bed, haeun pulls out stones and strings together wild, babbling stories (“bunny wuv you, sun go fwump!”). sometimes, jaemin joins in with his own silly voice, or challenges her to “tell the story backwards.” these stones become talismans—she always keeps her “mama stone” in her hospital bag for comfort.

3. “doctor-daddy” role play kit y/n creates a felt board scene: there’s a clinic, hospital bed, cartoon jaemin in a white coat, and dozens of felt medical tools. haeun gets to “treat” her stuffies, ask questions, use her own bandages, and assign everyone a job (“daddy is da patient, bunny’s da nuss!”). the routine helps her process her medical fears and gives her vocabulary for her own body and feelings.

4. the word garden wall with post-it flowers and velcro stems, they build a “garden” on her hospital window or bedroom wall. every time she learns a new word (sometimes medical, sometimes just “sparkle” or “giggle”), it gets a flower. by spring, the wall is a riot of color—proof of her cleverness, with daddy reading out every single “flower” each night.

5. “tiny chef” cooking play y/n brings safe, food-based play to the hospital: a little apron, a tray with muffin tins, measuring cups, felt “ingredients.” together, they “bake” pretend cakes, count out raisins, and talk through the steps—helping with fine motor skills and sequencing, and giving comfort through the routines of home.

6. video diaries on days when jaemin is working late, he records himself reading a book or singing her lullaby on his phone—always ending with, “what did you learn today, sunshine?” y/n helps her record her reply, showing him her favorite new word or story. their running playlist is a living scrapbook of her milestones, and she likes to rewatch old ones on sad days.

7. sensory books jaemin sews a few pages together with different fabrics, buttons, zippers, and ribbons. there’s a shiny page with a mirror so she can practice making silly faces and try new words (“show daddy your biggest ‘boo-boo’ face!”). this tactile play helps when she’s too tired or weak for bigger games.

8. “brave beads” and sticker charts each hospital visit or procedure, she earns a bright bead (engraved with words or hearts), which she strings into a necklace. she recites each bead’s story to her friends and nurses—“dis is from brave pokey, dis is when i was so strong”—building both language and self-confidence.

9. “feeling flashcards” y/n draws faces showing “happy,” “brave,” “tired,” “angry,” etc., and they practice naming and acting them out together. it helps haeun process her big emotions, especially around medical trauma, and gives her language to share her feelings honestly.

10. “sing & sign” lullabies they teach her simple sign language for key phrases (“mama,” “dada,” “help,” “brave”), set to her favorite lullabies. this empowers her to communicate even when she’s too tired or breathless to speak—a soft backup language for the hard days.

all of these are designed to nurture her mind, process hospital life, and remind her that she’s clever, loved, and never alone—each activity stitched with a little more hope, wonder, and belonging than any toy off the shelf could ever hold.

[thlayli-ra]

Stray (part 4)

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre, Larry, Samoa Joe

Pairing - CM Punk/Drew McIntyre, CM Punk/Samoa Joe (past)

AU - Stray AU

Rating - Mature

Warnings - Strong language, mentions of human trafficking, imprisonment and prostitution

Words - ~3,000 words (this is a longer one, yay!)

Summary - Punk asks a 'friend' for help

The door rang at six the next morning and Punk answered it immediately, already fully dressed.

'What did you do now?' the large set man on the doorstep grumbled.

'What makes you think I did anything?' Punk asked with his hand on his chest, taking offence to the accusation.

'When you call me at 5am telling me to bring spare clothes and my tool kit, I take that as a strong sign that you've done something,' Joe replied gruffly, stepping in past Punk and up the front steps. 'So just get it over with and tell me what the hell hap-'

He stopped mid-word when he reached the top of the stairs and found the stranger sitting innocently on Punk's sofa, naked except for a poorly fitting pair of boxer briefs and a dog collar around his neck. The newcomer gaped at the sight, then quickly dumped everything onto the floor.

'Excuse me,' Joe politely said to the stranger then roughly dragged Punk to the back steps at the far end of the living area.

'Ah, you grabbed me by the fucking neck,' Punk whined as Joe slammed the door behind them to give them some privacy.

'What the hell is that?' he demanded to know.

'I believe it's what they call an adult human male,' Punk shot back sarcastically.

'Don't get smart with me, Phillip Jack!'

'Oh, we're doing the Phillip Jack thing already, are we?'

'Just tell me who the fuck he is?'

Punk shrugged his shoulders. 'Dunno.'

'Well, what's his name?'

'Dunno.'

'Then where'd he come from?'

'I found him round the back of Mrs Goldstein's house. Good thing too, if she'd found him first she'd probably have had her third stroke and-'

'Wait! Wait! WAIT!' Joe scrubbed his eyes with his fingertips. 'What do you mean you found him?'

'Last night during the storm,' Punk retorted as if that made complete sense. 'Kid was all alone and banged up so I took him back here and cleaned him up.' Joe was trying to process just what the hell was happening but Punk didn't seem to notice. 'Hey, you know sign language, right?'

'I know exactly four languages, one of which is sign language, yes,' Joe replied, not following any of this in the slightest.

'Great! Come with me!' Gripping Joe by his broad shoulders, Punk shuffled him back into the living area and over to the lounge where the stranger was sitting calmly, stroking Larry who was sleeping next to him on the couch. 'Hey, so, this here is Joe, he's sorta, kinda, well, he's my-

'Friend,' Joe cut in abruptly.

'Yeah...' Punk muttered bitterly. 'Friend.'

The stranger stared blankly at them both.

'Well?' Punk looked expectantly at Joe. 'Go on.'

Heaving a huff of frustration, Joe signed 'hi, my name is Joe. What's your name?' when Punk cuffed him on the arm.

'He can hear you alright, I just need you to translate what he's saying.'

By this time, seeing someone else using hand motions had excited the stranger and he began throwing gestures right back at the large-set man who blinked with a furrowed brow. 'That's... not ASL,' he said, at last. 'Wait, where's your globe?'

'Pfft, I don't have a fucking globe,' Punk snorted.

'Oh really? Not even that one I bought you three Christmases ago?'

Punk quickly backtracked. 'Ohhh, that globe! Yeah I still got that globe.' He rushed over to a closet at the far end of the room and took a long time digging around before he finally produced it, still in its box and sealed.

'You keep it in the back of your closet?' Joe asked coldly, accepting the box from Punk.

'Just for safe-keeping, while I'm getting my office repainted.'

'Riiiiiiight.' Ripping the box open, Joe fetched out the plastic globe and placed it on the coffee table in front of the stranger. 'Can you show us where you're from?'

On instinct, Joe had turned the globe so that North America was facing the stranger but once he placed his large fingers on the sphere, he began turning it, passing over the Atlantic Ocean until he settled it at Europe. A wobbly smile broke his lips when he pressed his fingertip to a spot and both Punk and Joe leaned in for a closer look.

'You're from England?' Punk brows shot up.

The stranger gave a vicious snarl.

'From Scotland,' Joe corrected. The cat paw bobbed wildly. 'Hold on a minute...' Joe fished out his phone and began tapping away on the screen while Punk stared down at the tiny nation pressed beneath the stranger's large digit.

'We've been to Scotland before, haven't we?'

'Yeah, few times. Back when we were starting out, we had some bouts in Glasgow.'

'That's right! You from Glasgow?' The stranger shook his fist. He then began pointing his fingers upwards. 'You're from... Up? Uptown? O-over...? Over-town?'

'Skye?' Joe put in his guess but everything received a shake of the head. The stranger then splayed his fingers, hovering them around him. 'Air?' Cat paw! Cat paw! 'Oh, Ayr! You're from Ayr?'

'How do you know all this shit?' Punk asked, his nose scrunched.

'Unlike you, I like to try and learn about the places we visit.' Joe returned to his phone, ignoring the eye roll from the tattooed man. 'Ah, now it makes sense. He's using British Sign Language.'

'Is it that different?'

Joe sighed with exasperation. 'Yeah, it is.' He turned his attention back to the stranger. 'I've pulled up the BSL alphabet. Can you spell your name out for me? Slowly?'

'You could just have gotten him to write it out,' Punk pointed out with a scoff.

'He's been with you since yesterday and you didn't think to do that.' Punk snapped his mouth shut. 'Go on.' The stranger began moving his hands. First he pointed his left index finger up and placed his right index and thumb against it, opened up like a semi-circle, clearly making the shape of a familiar letter. 'D,' Joe confirmed. Then he crooked his left index finger. 'R'. Next he placed his right index finger on the tip of his left index finger. 'E.' And finally he knitted the tops of his fingers together, palms facing. 'W,' Joe said and put the all the letters together. 'Drew? Your name is Drew?'

The dark head and cat paw bobbed excitedly. Blue eyes pricked with tears from finally hearing his own name being spoken back to him. He wasn't the only one who found himself emotionally affected by the reveal. In the corner, Punk had gone deathly quiet, his lips hanging open slightly as his mind raced.

Drew... his name is Drew...

'So, how did you get over here, Drew?' Joe asked. The Scotsman replied by swooping his fist through the air, his thump and pinkie extended. 'You flew here?' Cat paw, but then the fingers grasped the collar at his neck.

'They flew you here,' Punk answered, understanding the hidden meaning. 'They guys who held you prisoner?'

Cat paw, followed by more finger spelling. Joe read them out as they were motioned 'L. I. E. Lie, they lied to you?' Cat paw, followed by a sawing and hammer motion. 'They said it was for work?' Cat paw, then another grasp at his collar. 'But they imprisoned you instead.'

'They forced him to fight,' Punk cut in, already knowing this part of Drew's horrific recent past. 'Probably around the illegal circuits, remember them? We looked into a few before we realised how fucking dangerous they were?'

But Joe was rubbing his fingers back and forth over his lips, deep in thought. 'Drew...' the blue eyes stared back at him. 'They made you do more than fight, right?' The Scot hesitated, glancing cautiously at Punk. 'That collar around your neck. Did they make you do anything... sexual?'

Punk hitched a breath, feeling his skin turn as cold as ice. The sensation overwhelmed him when he watched Drew's beautiful eyes darken and his head sink in shame. Punk couldn't contain the snarl in his throat as he scrubbed his palm over his face. His fists were shaking and he needed an outlet for it. Now!

He slammed his fist back against the wall. Hard. Feeling the skin break as it hit unrelenting brick. Joe looked up at him, his brows lowered. Go on, say it! Like a 'cornered feral cat'. Just fucking say it!

But it was Drew who piped up, flattening his left palm and swiping his right pointed finger beneath it. Joe's attention moved back to the large hands, trying to decipher them. Drew helped him by reaching down to shake the shattered chain at his feet. It was the first time the larger man had seen it and his face gave away the shock. 'But you escaped,' he explained, bringing Punk's focus back to the room.

Drew smiled broadly, then placed his thumb against his chest, swooping it around in a figure of eight. It took Joe a while to work out the sign but when he did, a grin broke out on his usually sullen face. 'Yes, yes I see,' he replied warmly and mimicked the same gesture on his chest.

Punk watched them both with bewilderment, wondering what joke he was missing out on, when Joe beamed up at him. 'You get it, right Punker?' he asked, doing the motion again. Punk shook his head. 'That means you!'

'Me?' Punk blinked, and looked over to Drew for confirmation. The blue eyes twinkled back at him, full lips spread wide revealing two deep dimples in his bearded cheeks. He did the motion again, swirling his thumb over his chest and Punk finally understood. He was following the path of the waves and serpent on his chest tattoo, just like he had last night in the wet room.

All of a sudden, Punk lost the ability to draw in breath. Overcome with emotion, he bit down hard on his cheek to stifle any sobs. 'Y-yeah,' he stuttered, shakily bobbing his head. 'Then I found you.'

With several mysteries solved, Joe moved on to the tasks Punk had sent him for. First on the checklist was removing the metal cuff and chain from around Drew's ankle. While Joe opened his tool box, Punk went into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for them all. Larry lay flat on the couch, glaring at Joe as he placed a rod into the locking mechanism of the cuff and gave a threatening growl when Joe pulled back the mallet to strike.

'Yes, yes, I know Larry,' Joe said to the little dog. 'I promise I will be careful.' Another snarl. 'I promise! Urgh, you just had to adopt the dog that's a small furry version of you, didn't you?' he shot at Punk.

'Guess we're just the type that's nobody else wants,' Punk fired back from the kitchen.

He knew it was a cruel barb and from the corner of his eye, he saw Joe lower his arm and close his eyes, taking in a long, deep breath through his nose, the way he always did when he was trying to compose himself. Eventually he shrugged off Punk's vicious comment and moved on.

The cuff broke apart on the second strike and Drew's leg was finally free. He asked Punk to fetch the first aid kit ('under the sink, top shelf. You really should know this by now! What if you burn yourself or cut yourself with a knife in the kitchen!') then cleaned and wrapped the wounds on Drew's ankle. Once the Scot had been treated, Joe helped him into some old clothes of his. He may not have the height that Drew did, but he was large and broad so the clothes fitted much better than Punk's did.

By the time, they all sat down at the table to eat, Drew was transformed. Wearing a navy T-shirt and black shorts with his long hair pulled back in an old hair-tie that Punk had found in a drawer, he looked more... normal. Like any other guy. Well, except for the collar around his neck. Punk placed his food down in front of him and had a double-take, examining him from head to foot. He couldn't deny that he looked good. Really good!

He served Joe next then, after topping up Larry's bowl, he joined them at the table with his own stack of pancakes. Grabbing up the syrup first, he proceeded to empty almost the entire bottle onto his stack as Drew and Joe looked on in disgust.

'You never change,' Joe muttered. They soon tucked in and Joe's eyes lit up with the first taste of the warm pancakes. 'Wow, these are delicious! You've really improved your technique.'

Punk chewed his bottom lip awkwardly. 'I didn't make 'em,' he confessed. 'They're yours. I found them in the freezer box.'

'Wait, so they've been in there all this time?'

Punk never once took his eyes off the pancakes on his plate as he stuffed another bite into his mouth. 'Just... forgot they were there.'

The atmosphere dampened and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

A short while later, Punk escorted Joe to the door. 'Thanks again for helping out,' he said, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

'No problem, I just...' Joe gently shoved Punk out onto his front step and closed the door behind him with a quick glance upstairs to make sure nobody was within earshot. 'Punker,' he said, sternly and the cage-fighter knew there was a lecture coming, 'listen to me. Drew is a big guy. He's taller than both of us and he's clearly really strong.'

'I know what you're getting at,' Punk sighed, 'and I've been thinking it too.'

'Good,' Joe cut in with relief. 'Cause anybody who trafficked a guy like Drew here and kept him prisoner all these years has to be dangerous.'

'You don't have to worry about me,' Punk smiled weakly out the side of his mouth.

'You know you have a habit of getting yourself into stupid shit you're not cut out for.'

Punk bristled at that and folded his arms across his chest. 'What you saying here exactly?'

'This isn't your problem to solve. Drew was trafficked here illegally by criminals - you have to call the cops.'

'Why?' Punk argued, getting defensive. 'So they can just toss him in a holding centre somewhere. He's already been imprisoned against his will for years, I can't do that to him again.'

'You don't know that!' Joe protested. 'You're not a social worker-'

'No shit,' Punk snapped back, 'because I'm actually helping the guy.'

'You can't let what happened to you cloud your judgement here,' Joe tried to reason with the cage-fighter who was getting more irate and closed off by the second. 'I get that what Chez and her family did for you was incredibly kind and selfless but there's no expectation on you to pay that forward.'

'And what if I want to!' Punk opened his arms wide. 'What if I just wanna do the right thing here?'

'This isn't some fifteen year old kid we're talking about,' Joe kept his voice calm and composed, the way he always did when they argued. Punk hated when he did that! 'The guy looks to be in his mid to late thirties. He's not even from here, he has a whole life and family back home, maybe even a wife and kids.'

'He doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want to,' Punk debated, 'but until he's ready, gets back on his feet, who gives a shit?'

'And what if those guys come looking for him?'

Punk paused, pursing his lips. 'We'll be alright. I'll keep him safe.'

Joe scrubbed his hand across his brow, no doubt feeling a stress headache taking hold. 'It's not him, I'm worried about. I'm worried about you.'

'I told you already, you don't need to-'

'But I do! I can't help it. Every damn minute of every damn day I worry about you and it drives me fucking crazy! I can't keep doing this.'

'Then why did you answer my call at 5am this morning? Why did you even come here?'

Joe heaved a long, weary sigh. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'I really want this to work out between us, this whole 'friendship' thing, I really do, but you've got to put in the effort too. You've gotta at least try to move on.'

'You're the one who left me!' Punk was raising his voice and he couldn't help it. All the pain and hurt from the past few months was spilling out of him like water gushing through a fractured dam. 'You don't get to tell me when I'm ready to move on. Anyway, how the hell am I meant to move on when I keep finding your shit all over my house!'

He clamped his mouth shut, realising his faux-pas too late. Joe stared back at him, furious agony marring his features.

'Exactly. Your house! Your career. Your hopes, your dreams. Your life. You, you, you! That's all it's ever been about. You're so fucking selfish!'

'Yeah, well why'd you stick around so long if I was such a shitty boyfriend and an even shittier fiancé?'

Joe shrugged his shoulders in defeat. 'Good question,' he said, bitterly as he turned away. 'Least you've matured enough to admit that at last.'

Punk could have called his name, could have told him to stay and they could talk things out properly but he knew it wouldn't work. The one talent that he had was making things worse. So he let Joe walk away. Again.

Stepping back inside, he forced all the pain down deep inside him again, pushing it into the dark recesses and sealing it tight.

Right now, he had more important things to worry about than whining about how his life was falling apart at the seams. He had a blue-eyed Scot called Drew who needed him.

Who needed him to be strong.

To be continued...

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[lifeis35mil]

| AOUS ficlet |

Adam needs a bit of taking care of by Harry

This takes place when they went to his parent’s house.

“Please. Let me in”

The force of his knocking makes the glass burst and shards slide through his skin.

"Ow!"

Adam grasps his hand firmly. Harry's eyes widen with panic at Adam's sharp voice, the scene just flashes before his eyes.

"Adam, careful."

His gaze scans the broken front door: Shards lying around. Blood on the ground.

Adam holds out his hand, blood trickles down. Harry gives him a gentle push. Panic slowly rising.

"Put it up, above your heart."

Adam does as he’s being told.

"I need to sit down, Can’t see blood."

he says, barely hears himself over the white noise in his head. His vision becomes blurry.

"We need to get home"

Harry guides him and quickly sits him on the front steps.

"I think I’m going to faint."

“Adam, don’t do this to me. Fuck.”

In an urge, Harry reaches through the glass and opens the door. The house is dark, but Harry quickly finds the light switch. It feels familiar, as if he’s been there before.

"Wait just one second and wrap this around your finger,"

Harry directs him into the kitchen to the counter, passes him a tea towel.

“Sit down, I gotta find a first aid kit"

Harry frantically opens cupboards one after another, then pulls out drawers.

“In the bathroom”.

Adam replies faintly and closes his eyes.

His thoughts go back to the scene when he cut his thumb on an old milk bottle while he was trying to run away as a kid. His mum and dad comforting him when he was standing in front of them, tear streaked face and blood soaked shirt. There was blood visible on his palm, the trail already drying into the tiny creases in his skin.

Harry comes running down the stairs, sits next to Adam and opens a small metal box. He takes things out and sets them aside until he comes up with what he wants: gauze pads, betadine swabs, medical tape—and a needle already threaded, in a clear plastic envelope.

Adam frowns.

"We might not need it,"

Harry reassures him, and tucks the needle away under the box.

"We should go to A&E,"

Harry shakes his head, he knows that of course they can’t go.

"We don't know anything yet. Come here."

Harry maneuvers him, making sure he’s steady. Adam grips the edge of the counter.

"It might not be so bad. Look away, or close your eyes."

He looks at the ceiling. His legs begin to jitter with nervous energy, but an equally warm feeling.

“It’s not so bad,"

Harry soothes, carefully removes the blood soaked tea towel.

Adam feels the air stinging the wound, the unpleasant throb of blood rushing back into the fingertip.

"I don't think it needs stitches. I'll just clean it and wrap it up."

"Is it still bleeding?"

"Just a little.”

“Don't look if you don't want to."

Harry is efficient in readying the supplies.

"This might sting a bit,"

At first the antiseptic is only cold, then it stings, and not only a bit.

Adam sucks his breath through his teeth and lets out a small yelp.

"I know,"

Harry cooes at him.

"That hurts."

He folds the gauze pad into a cushion, wraps it with a bandage around Adam's finger, in between each motion, makes sure to wipe away fresh blood, still seeping.

"Can I look now?"

"Almost”

“Can you just hold this right here?"

Harry grasps for Adam’s other hand, guides him to lay the tip of his finger in the right spot. He pulls out the tape and cuts it with his teeth.

"You shouldn't use your teeth as a tool,"

"My mum always used to say that."

Harry smiles slightly as he winds the tape around the bandage to keep it firmly in place.

"I always heard not to use your fingernails,"

"Had a friend, she did Drag nights - Nails are jewels not tools” she’d always say."

"She sounds smart,"

Adam chuckles, relieved to have anything to think of that distracted him from the cut, the sharp sting of the shards sliding through his skin.

Harry allows, doing final touch ups to his handiwork.

"She died.”

He adds wistfully and starts clearing away the paper wraps and the blood-soaked tea towel so Adam doesn’t need to see the stains and lets the needle disappear into the first aid kit.

"All Done. You can look now, there's nothing bad to see."

Adam examines the bandage on his finger; it is bulky, crisp white, and effectively makes the bleeding stop.

“Better?”

Adam smiles at him and Harry moves on to cleaning up the remaining mess on the kitchen counter.

After a few moments, Adam wraps his arms around him and muses,

"You’re good at this”.

Harry smiles at him a sadly.

“You need to be more careful next time.”

He takes Adam’s finger in his hand and gently caresses it. Adam slowly moves over and starts to kiss him.

“Thank you for looking after me”.

I’m incredibly happy that the wonderful @mousenoise very generously agreed to creating a wonderful little artwork for the story.

Thanks a million for capturing these scenes so beautifully.

[akwolfgrl]

How sweet it is to be loved by them 31

Zoro, the feared pirate hunter, demon of the east blue, was rumored to have mated to an angel. Yet Nami watched as the alpha who claimed to be his mate gnawed on the metal bars, and she just couldn't see it. The green haired alpha had dropped the cage and was now laying on the ground bleeding.

“If you want to gnaw something, how about you gnaw on my ropes! I might be able to pick the lock.” Nami shouted at the other Alpha as he continued to chew on the bars. She didn't really want his mouth anywhere near her, but she had a key, and if that didn't work, she had her lock picking kit…the angle would be awkward, but so long as she was free.

Luffy stopped and turned to her. “Good idea! Zoro, our new navigator, is so smart!”

“Navigator? Sanji will placed….in more than one way.” The second half of the sentence was muttered. This Sanji person was mentioned more than once. If Nami was sticking around, she might have been curious.

“Hello! Can we get back to getting out of the cage! And I never agreed to join you!”

“You will.” Luffy chipped before he began to chew threw the ropes holding her. Nani didn't know if that was a threat or a promise.

When the ropes fell away, Nami rubbed where the rope had burned her skin. She took her stolen key and shuffled closer towards the lock, keeping them inside the cage. She tires the key a few times, twisting and turning it in hopes of forcing it to fit.

“Shit,” Nami knew it had been a long shot, but she still had hoped for the easier route. She dug out her lock picking kit and got work. “Come on.” She muttered to herself as she worked.

She felt a body press against her. “Watcha doing?” The other alpha joslted her engh that Nami ended up dropping her lock picking tools. “Damn it!” She watched with dismay as the tools hit the ground out of her reach.

“I thought I heard the sounds of a damsel in distress only to find a bleeding marimo and a caged alpha. What happened?” A blond came in to view. His ponytail swishing as he ran to Zoro, he kneeled at the side with no regard for his fancy suit.

“Sanji!” Luffy cired out. So this was the Sanji that the other alphas mentioned.

“Luffy! What happened? Why are you and this lovely lady locked up?” The blond turned his head to look at them. Nami wondered if this was the angel people were gossiping about. It made more sense than Luffy. His earnings did match Zoros. Nami personally thought he looked a bit to put together to be a pirate. “Did you steal from or make fun of Buggy’s nose?” They as a collective, in fact, did both and more.

“Oh please, sir, let us out.” Nami batted her lashes, as he stepped closer to them, she could smell properly now. An omega like the Buggy pirates, he smelled spicy, salty, and sweet. A spoiled omega, perhaps he had money or something Nami could steal, he was a pirate after all. It's a bit posh but a pirate nonetheless. “If you could just hand me…”

“Of course, don't worry, my sweet. I'll have you out of here in no time.” The omega interpted her, Nami watched as the blond raised his leg straight above his head before slamming it straight down on the lock, breaking it clean off. He opened the cage door and held out his hand. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you.” Nami took his hand to freedom, ignoring the grumbling from the green haired alpha learning against a post.

“Oi you four shouldn't be here! It's not safe, evacuate imditily!” A new voice joined them, an older man carrying a bleeding dog.

“Who are you?” Zoro asked as Sanji let Luffy out of the cage and untied him.

“I'm the mayor of this village. This is shushu, he was attacked by a pirate riding a lion. You four need to leave, it's not safe here!”

[sevasey51]

The tablet on the wall for “Charlie crate” would any other commands be in it? Where would it be in the apartment? Also, can you do another scenario for it? 🥺

The Quiet Command

Summary: Connor and Y/N’s apartment is designed for safety, not just comfort—because when chronic illness is part of your daily life, the small details matter. From the moment they moved in, Connor made sure one tool would always be within reach: the emergency tablet on the wall. Nicknamed “Charlie Crate” for their golden retriever’s crate training phrase, it’s a system designed to alert their inner circle when a crash happens. It triggers logs, lights, and calls. And when it’s used again—this time during a seizure-adjacent POTS cascade—everyone is already in motion before Connor can even say the words.

The Tablet System:

Mounted just outside the bedroom door—where it’s always in reach but never obtrusive—is a sleek black emergency tablet, secured with biometric and manual access. The display stays dark unless touched. Once activated, it unlocks a series of quick-trigger commands—coded phrases that Connor and Y/N developed together for worst-case moments.

• Charlie Crate – Full crash alert: sends a flagged log entry, texts Ava, Hannah, Will, and Jay, triggers a visual light cue in the front window (for EMS or family arrivals), and preps the crash kit cabinet lock for immediate access.

• Waterfall – Signals rapid dehydration and potential syncopal prelude: triggers Connor’s phone directly and logs vitals data.

• Red Light – Indicates major bleeding and uterine involvement: locks external doors (to prevent EMT miscommunication), sends an urgent ping to Hannah, and loads OB-specific protocol.

• Greenhouse – Environmental sensory overload: dims lights, lowers sound levels, and pauses smart audio/screen features. For seizure aftermaths or post-migraine pain.

And the best part? Charlie knows. When that tablet beeps, their dog goes straight to his station near the emergency kit and waits.

Scenario: The Second Time It’s Used

The first time Charlie Crate was used, it was Connor who triggered it—Y/N barely conscious, mid-crash.

The second time?

She pressed it herself.

It was mid-morning. A Sunday. Connor had been called into a consult he couldn’t push off, promising he’d be home by noon. She had insisted she felt fine enough—just a bit tired from a long week of mild flares. Nothing unusual.

But the moment he left, she started to feel the drop.

Not the slow kind.

The sharp, brutal kind.

Head spinning, hands trembling, eyes trying to focus but missing.

Charlie barked once. Then twice. He recognized it.

Y/N crawled toward the tablet, using the wall for balance. Her fingers shook as she pressed her thumb to the biometric pad.

The screen lit up.

CHARLIE CRATE?

She tapped yes.

Instantly:

• A crash alert sent to the entire medical circle.

• A light flashed in the front window.

• The data log auto-filled her latest readings.

• And a soft chime in Connor’s OR locker pinged with:

“CRATE ACTIVATED — STATUS: CRASH, UNCONFIRMED.”

Charlie sat next to her, unmoving, eyes locked.

She was still barely upright when her heart rate surged past 170 and her BP began bottoming out.

Connor ran out of the hybrid wing, scrubs half-done, phone to his ear.

Will: “I’m already halfway there. Ava’s on her way too.”

Ava: “She pressed it herself. That buys us a few minutes. Hang on.”

Connor burst into the apartment nine minutes later.

She was on the floor, breathing shallow but alive. Charlie standing over her like a lifeguard.

He scooped her into his arms, carried her to the couch, and began protocols.

Fluids. Cooling cloths. Emergency beta-blocker.

“Come back to me,” he whispered.

When Will walked in, Connor had his fingers on her pulse, eyes laser-focused.

“She did good,” Will said softly. “That system saved her.”

Connor didn’t look up. “No. She saved her.”

Charlie barked once, low and calm. Mission complete.

[argumentalist]

You know, I don't love the original Mobile Suit Gundam. And I didn't think the RX-78-2 Gundam was that great. But the more I build the more I appreciate this iconic design.

This is my first time building an Entry Grade kit. I guess I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting, but this kit genuinely surprised me.

We've got a bunch of these weird double runners. A1/A2 molded together. I guess I don't understand why you wouldn't just call the whole thing the "A" runner.

The molding is fantastic on this kit. Nice, sharp details. And the gates are virtually nonexistent. According to the instructions you can pop this thing together without any tools at all - not even nippers.

I used my nippers out of habit, and a glass file here and there... But, yeah, probably not needed.

I used a gold Gundam Marker on the eyes. They were just molded in yellow plastic and I didn't think they popped enough.

Fun fact - there's no black plastic in the head. That darkness around the eyes is just a shadow created by gaps/recesses in the plastic. Some smart engineering there from Bandai.

Surprisingly good articulation here in the torso - there's a couple joints in there to allow a fantastic ab-crunch.

And I'm loving the colors in this plastic. That yellow is nice and rich.

The color separation is also very surprising in this kit. There's no stickers at all. That "v" in the crotch is a separate bit of yellow plastic poking through the red. There's High Grade kits that don't have color separation this good.

The arms and legs are honestly kind of a let-down after the rest of this build. They're very hollow with very simple joints. The articulation isn't great. And it all feels very tight and stiff.

If I understand correctly, this is what makes it the Full Weapon Set kit - the addition of effect parts for the beam sabers, the beam javelin, hyper-bazooka, and Gundam hammer. A nice little bonus considering how cheap this kit is.

I wish there was an effect part for the beam javelin - that grey plastic doesn't look great. But I guess that just means I'll have to paint it.

This is everything you get in the basic Entry Grade RX-78-2 Gundam kit. While you do get the handles for the beam sabers, there's no effects parts.

I painted the sight/lens on the beam rifle with a yellow Gundam Marker - again, it just looked too plain in the grey plastic.

While the joints are stiff and the articulation isn't great, it can still pull off some very nice poses. And the light weight combined with the stiff joints mean that it'll hold any pose just fine.

That beam javelin just doesn't look great out of the box. And due to how the handle and hands are designed you can only hold it way down at the base. I'm definitely going to have to paint it eventually... And I might modify it a bit so it can be held up on the shaft.

This is really a very surprising kit. Much, much better than I was expecting.

The build was very simple and fast. It didn't have the satisfying complexity of a Real Grade. It doesn't have the heft or weight of a Master Grade.

And it's a very simple, anime-accurate design. There isn't a lot of surface detail to panel-line or anything like that.

But it looks really good once its built. And all of that simplicity means it should be very easy to customize.

I'll happily build another Entry Grade kit. And I'm already thinking about interesting ways I could customize one...

[avcnturine]

deep dive character sheet

stolen from: u do not have to tell me twice to do a dash game

NAME: AVENTURINE

BODY

height: 170cm / 5′ 7"

strength ★☆☆☆☆ ⠀/⠀if he's in a hand to hand confrontation there are so many things that went wrong to lead to that. that scrappy af part of him that killed a man with nothing more than iron shackles is still in there somewhere tho

dexterity ★★★★★⠀/⠀have u seen those coin tricks in that cg cutscene

health ★★★☆☆⠀/⠀slightly above average bc he keeps fit and works somewhat to maintain it, but he's no health freak

energy ★★★☆☆⠀/⠀related to above

beauty ★★★★★⠀/⠀avgin genetics + finely curated = fine mfer. he's very aware that being attractive gives benefits even if his personal relationship with being seen as attractive is more bitter than sweet

style ★★★★★⠀/⠀bruh

hygiene ★★★★★⠀/⠀again, bruh. an additional tidbit here is that while the avgin are known for being beautiful, they're also associated with a poor / low-class / dirty image. this is something that aven is aware even the most rigorous beauty routine and colognes can't cleanse in the eyes of others

SKILLS

perception ★★★★★⠀/⠀avgin survival skills 101. both literal perception as well as emotional intelligence

communication ★★★★★⠀/⠀also avgin survival skills 101 jNJNSJGN. but even without the genetics / upbringing buff, it's something he's honed a lot as any successful businessman has to. it's his most important tool by a long shot, and a game he's exceedingly well-versed in

persuasion ★★★★★⠀/⠀see above

mediation ★★★★★⠀/⠀also comes with the businessman stint. and compared to his coworkers among the stonehearts, he's noted for this by opal: "it should have been me, but diamond believes that the family still had some value in cooperation and hopes this affair still has some room for a peaceful resolution. so, after some thought, i've concluded that you're the best candidate." i do think there's way more to what opal is saying here and that on some level this is an obfuscation of why aventurine's really the one being sent, but i do think it's also not entirely a cover-up

literacy ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀it's more or less average, though i hc that aventurine was illiterate for most of his life until he taught himself to read basics as a slave for survival and then was given further opportunities to improve in this by jade later. he's never been formally educated and still takes longer than average to read long or dense texts that aren't his usual material

creativity ★★★★☆⠀/⠀in the sense of thinking outside the box, long-term planning, problem-solving, and adapting to the environment. creativity in terms of the arts is virtually nonexistent though

cooking ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀like. he won't die if left on his own, but doesn't care for it. if managing his own meals, goes with simple things that can be thrown together easily while being healthy, probably swears by meal kits and food that can be made and then just eaten for days so he doesn't have to worry about it. has to be careful about falling into a habit of eating out constantly to avoid having to meal prep.

tech savvy ★★★★☆⠀/⠀he is hip and with it, as the kids say

combat ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀as stated earlier a fight's far from being his preferred means; if he's in one, it's because a bunch of other things failed along the way. he's not a combatant by nature or training, but he doesn't flinch, isn't afraid of pain, and has a good eye with a gun

survival ★★★★★⠀/⠀the guy's preservation for a reason. that said, this could also feasibly be a zero because he's constantly throwing himself in front of metaphorical moving trains just to see what happens. ask him sometime about his relationship with his own survival ( just kidding, don't. )

stealth ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀usually in his line of work, standing out is more par for the course and also serves him better. if stealth was necessary, he'd do his best, but probably wouldn't be much better or worse than the next guy

street smarts ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀used to be higher, but he's been a wealthy bigwig for some years now. still, some habits from a life at the bottom of the barrel die hard

seduction ★★★★☆⠀/⠀it's kinda like intimidation. not his first go-to tool but sure if it's the most useful one in the moment. he knows the avgin reputation and isn't shy to leverage it

luck ★★★★★⠀/⠀bro that's just canon

handling animals ★☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀he's not abysmal at it but he has no particular love or hatred for critters. puts himself first too much to be a good pet parent and he wouldn't enjoy it, but they're not going to die

pacifying children ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀whatever skills work for pacifying adults also works with kids, but they're easier. in this, he likes them more than adults. but he's not very genuine about it

MIND

intelligence ★★★★☆⠀/⠀this kind of goes in hand with creativity earlier. it depends massively on what form of intelligence you're talking about though; he's not learned and doesn't care much for theory or academics, but he's resourceful, emotionally and socially adept, a flexible thinker, and picks things up fast experientially

happiness ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀it's uh, complicated

spirituality ★★★★☆⠀/⠀surprisingly! hardly in the traditional sense. but avgin spirituality is integral to the culture and tightly tethered to their beliefs about survival, worth, and meaning. like most things, aventurine has a complicated relationship with this faith too, and there's many more facets to him now than ' avgin '. but at his core, that belief in the mother goddess from his roots is still there, albeit a very private and personal thing and not entirely positive. its role in his sense of self is also non-linear and kind of complex

confidence ★★★★☆⠀/⠀generally speaking yes, but it's also kind of complicated

humor ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀he has a developed sense of humor, can read a joke, and appreciates wit, but humor's not really something he displays or utilizes much himself. he's smooth and charismatic and prone to the occasional "that was just a joke, friend", but it's mostly in the interest of keeping things light. he's not really known for being funny

anxiety ★☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀he probably lost whatever anxiety he had when the screws upstairs started loosening, tbh

patience ★★★★☆⠀/⠀deals aren't made in a day and the best wins are weeks, months, years in the making. he can wait for the time to ripen

passion ★★★☆☆⠀/⠀like, in what sense? he doesn't tend to half-ass things, and has good follow-through. he's passionate about pursuing the things that matter to him, like success, self-satisfaction, and the fleeting, euphoric highs that make him feel the most alive

nice         ☆☆★☆☆⠀mean⠀/⠀oh honey it depends on who u ask

brave       ☆★☆☆☆⠀cowardly⠀/⠀it's like...... so dependent on ur definition of bravery. but not being afraid to die makes him brave? or reckless? just ballsy maybe

pacifist     ☆★☆☆☆⠀violent⠀/⠀he'd rather get along than fight but otherwise i wouldn't call him a pacifist by principle

thoughtful ☆★☆☆☆⠀impulsive⠀/⠀there's usually rationale that goes into everything, but it often looks impulsive to the observer

agreeable ★☆☆☆☆⠀contrary⠀/⠀will tell you you're right about everything if it's in his best interest for you to like him

idealistic   ☆☆☆★☆⠀pragmatic⠀/⠀prefers to think in tangibles, even if far-off tangibles, but his ideas can sound pretty out there. this is why he tends to work alone

frugal        ☆☆★☆☆⠀big spender⠀/⠀is it possible to be both? he's a big spender in the sense that he likes luxury and likes grand gestures of expenditure on others, but he's frugal in the sense that he's highly discerning about making the money spent worth it

extrovert   ☆★☆☆☆⠀introvert⠀/⠀leans extrovert but not extremely? he doesn't mind being alone and doesn't really feel the itch to be in a social setting if he's not, but he also does flourish a bit more when he's around others

collected   ☆☆★☆☆⠀wild⠀/⠀like he's collected until u realize he's rly unhinged actually

ambitious⠀/⠀possessive⠀/⠀stubborn⠀/⠀jealous⠀/⠀decisive⠀/⠀perfectionist

SOCIAL

charisma ★★★★★⠀/⠀it's his whole thing bro

empathy ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀a complicated topic. his emotional intelligence is in part based in empathy, and in part empathy-acted-out ; he's not devoid of empathy, and in certain specific situations can demonstrate a surprising touch of compassion. but very little in his lived experience either past or present encourages, nurtures, or rewards empathy; quite the opposite, in fact, and it's in a lot of ways more natural for him to act selfishly

generosity ★★★★☆⠀/⠀he's capable of great generosity, though seldom without reason

wealth ★★★★★⠀/⠀i mean in his eyes he doesn't own a whole skyscraper in pier point under his name yet, so he could be doing better, but.............

honest  ☆☆★☆☆⠀deceptive⠀/⠀makes vague hand gestures. both at the same time, somehow

leader   ☆☆★☆☆⠀follower⠀/⠀preferably neither

polite    ★☆☆☆☆⠀rude⠀/⠀he's cordial unless it serves him better to be otherwise

political ☆☆☆★☆⠀indifferent⠀/⠀he appreciates the ipc's modus operandi but he's not bible-thumping for qlipoth's gain on principle. he's aligned with himself before an ideology

BELIEFS

higher power ★★★★☆⠀/⠀see earlier note about spirituality

fate/destiny ★★★★☆⠀/⠀not in the sense that it rules you, but that certain things about one's situation are not elected and outside of one's direct control to change, and thus, inherently unfair

magic ★★★☆☆⠀/⠀it's not a huge factor in his life but that also begs the question of what constitutes as magic in hsr's world?

soulmates ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀not a romantic by any means but would probably be willing to engage in discussion on the concept for light entertainment in the same vein as fate/destiny before he fairly quickly tires of theoreticals

good and evil ☆☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀there are no permanent enemies or permanent friends, only permanent interests

luck ★★★★★⠀/⠀anyone who doesn't believe in it just needs to see his gacha pull rates

PRIORITIES

family ★★★★☆⠀/⠀in a conceptual sense ; he feels a lot of adherence to the family he lost, but less as concrete individuals and more as a manifestation of belonging

friends ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀rarely just for the principle of it, but he certainly does value his friends :)

love ☆☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀not something he associates with his concept of self, others, or the world at large

home ★☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀he's been physically and metaphysically homeless for so long it's ceased to be something he longs for, especially when concepts of home are bound up with plenty of negative associations as well

health ★★★☆☆⠀/⠀because it's important to take care of

praise ★☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀experientially, most of the time it's double-edged

justice ★★★★★⠀/⠀for what, from whom, in what form? he's not sure. but a hunger for something like it burns hard enough to destroy him

truth ★★☆☆☆⠀/⠀in the sense that he's naturally curious and doesn't prefer to be kept in the dark, but also can healthily appreciate the grey area

power ★★★★☆⠀/⠀it's not a primary motivating force, but he's not immune to it. more than the power alone, it's the agency it grants that he likes

fame ★☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀a byproduct of achievement. he doesn't feel any particular way about it

wealth ★★★★☆⠀/⠀rather similar to power. wealth alone is good because it's a measure of how far he's come ; moreso than that though, it's that wealth is a stepping stone to many, many further things. his voice line about the ipc is a good indicator of his thoughts around this

others' opinions ☆☆☆☆☆⠀/⠀if he cared about this he would not be in this job

[donnerpartyofone]

Because I find it easier to complain about than the end of the world, I will say that it is very instructive to compare the fan behavior around Kim Gordon to the behavior inspired by Courtney Love. So many of the photos that are lovingly circulated of Kim Gordon, and Ivy Rorschach and probably others I'm not thinking of, are of these women at all ages, and very often the highlight of the images are their incredible hands, like holy shit look at those vascular meat hooks, the steel cable forearms, that's what you get from actually knowing how to do something and doing it well for years and years and years, these are the medals and ribbons of curing yourself like a cast iron skillet and kicking ass every successive year of your life. As a woman younger than these women, you may feel like you have something to look forward to, something you yourself would like to earn. And then every single picture I see of Courtney Love is either from the riot grrl era, or it's her as a middle-aged adult still doing her best to look like a prom queen, or like Marilyn Monroe who didn't age out of conventional sexiness because she died horribly. And I guess you could argue that it's all supposed to be ironic, but I would challenge anyone to diagram where the incisive wit is with this posturing, and no her juvenile lyrics about being a teenage whore do not count as proof of genuine social criticism. The fact that I so often see worshipful images of Courtney Love alongside images of young, fresh pop stars who look like they didn't get the point of Lolita, is something I find very telling.

I'm thinking of this friend of mine -- someone with talent and life experience and a PhD, and who also happens to be my most Courtney Love-obsessed acquaintance -- who I worry about because she was empowered by the riot grrl thing when she was an actual girl, and now that she's a middle-aged woman she doesn't seem to know where to get that same kind of reinforcing inspiration. As a teenager she turned away from the mainstream objectification of women, and subscribed instead to the bratty bad girl version offered by contemporary punk aesthetics, and then she wound up with nothing in her tool kit to carry her into adulthood. Her progressive, anti-sexist politics have not protected her from the subconscious belief that she has been degrading in value -- even punk value -- since she turned 21, and I think that in addition to hurting her, this hurts her relationships with other women. One day we were having drinks and I thought to show her a particularly hilarious picture of myself from decades ago; I brought it up for the comedy value the picture had, but all she noticed was that I used to be cuter and skinnier. "THAT'S YOU?!?!" she said, while looking back and forth between the photo and my actual face with her mouth open. I had to just sit there like I was in the zoo and let her scrutinize me with this expression of disgusted disappointment for a few minutes, because what could I really say? It was extremely uncomfortable and not a little insulting, but at least I already knew that she was completely consumed with scrutinizing herself in the same way. Half of everything she ever said was about that.

I don't know. I'm not saying people shouldn't enjoy themselves. But I think that a lot of women who participate in "alternative" culture and read Sylvia Plath and worship Frida Kahlo etc. make this assumption about themselves that they're too smart to fall for the big pedophilic scam of popular culture, until they wake up one day and look in the mirror to see that their rebellious schoolgirl thing is startling to look just a little ridiculous, but they don't know what to replace it with. I guess I'm just saying, like, the future may be female, but you should try to make sure you have more than one mental idea of what "female" looks like, or even means.

[kissorkill16]

Friendship In Raven Brooks: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: They all just wanted to live their lives, and then they met each other and became the bestest friend group you'll ever see.

Chapter 15

That was the first day of the Inventor's Club.

It was eventful, and it was unlike any other club, especially with the near death experiences thanks to Ivan's can lid launcher, but it was a good club.

Ivan said he was trying to get the springs right so he could aim the lids at the ground or out the window or something.

One day, Enzo was just sitting down at a table, when he saw Ivan come up to him.

"Hello, fellow engineer.", he said. Enzo waved at him, he turned his attention to his taco, but then he looked back at the kid.

"How do you look so young?", he asked, "You're what? 9? Then what're you doing in middle school?"

Ivan took out his lunchbox and happily answered the question, "Because of my high IQ, I moved up a couple of grades. I was only 4 when I attended 1st grade.", he said.

Enzo leaned back in his chair and looked at Ivan, visibly impressed. "You're very smart for your age.", he said, then he looked at his lap. "Then why do you hang out with that guy in the yellow jacket?"

"You mean Delroy? Oh, his aunt and my mom were high school friends and we used to have playdates together. We usually hang out in my backyard and work on machines together. Well, I do most of the work, he just sits around and passes me the tools.", said Ivan.

"Does he call you a nerd?"

"All the time, Enzo. But it's just a friendly joke between the two of us, nothing mean or personal."

"It seemed mean and personal with the rest of us at our first club meeting."

Ivan playfully rolled his eyes, "Well he's known me longer, so it makes some sense. He just needs to get to know the rest of you."

"And who knows how long that'll take.", Enzo mumbled.

"Negativity is not a good look for you, my friend."

Just then, Aaron came up to them and sat beside Enzo.

"Greetings, Aaron.", said Ivan. "Did you enjoy yesterday's meeting?"

Aaron nodded. "I did, very much."

That wasn't a lie. He really did enjoy yesterday's club meeting. He got to spend more time with his friends, and it made him happy that he got to be away from home longer.

It's not that he didn't want to go home, it's just that he didn't want to go home to Dad.

His father had been acting more stressed out lately, and it was scaring everyone in the house, even his mother.

So to spend longer at school, with his friends and doing stuff he enjoyed, it felt like heaven.

He looked around the cafeteria for a moment, "Have you guys seen Nicky?", he asked.

Enzo shrugged, "No idea. He might be running late to lunch."

Aaron anxiously tapped his fingers on the lunch table. Ivan noticed this and got worried. "Are you alright?", he asked.

"I'm fine.", said Aaron, "I'm just waiting for Nicky."

"Why do you like Nicky so much?", asked Enzo. "I thought we were all friends."

"We are. It's just..."

Aaron rubbed his hand through his head and looked at the two boys.

"Nicky was the first friend I've made since I got here. We live in the same neighborhood, we live across from each other, and we have more in common than anyone else I know.", he said, "No offense."

"None taken.", said Enzo and Ivan.

Aaron smiled and looked at his shoes, "We just click together, and it's not just with me, it's with Mya too. And Maritza, and you, Enzo. Though, I guess it makes sense since your dads are friends."

Enzo couldn't help but roll his eyes, but he nodded.

"Nicky seems to click with all of us, huh?", asked Enzo. Aaron and Ivan exchanged a nod.

"He certainly does.", said Ivan, "I'd love to get to know Nicky more on future club meetings."

A moment later, Nicky came up to the boys and sat down next to Ivan and across from Aaron. "Hey, guys!", he excitedly said. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small kit filled with colorful strings and beads.

"What's with the DIY kit?", asked Ivan.

"Lucy suggested this awesome idea to me, and she's been thinking about it herself too. She said it would really seal our friendship.", he said. "But I'll need some help."

Enzo looked at the kit, "What is it?", he asked.

"Is it a machine?", asked Ivan.

"No, Ivan.", replied Nicky, sounding only a tad bit annoyed. Then his tone went back to excitement.

"Friendship bracelets."

Aaron looked down at the kit as Nicky began to unbox it. "Friendship bracelets?", he asked. "We need friendship bracelets to prove we're friends?"

Nicky shook his head, "Nope, it's just a little thing some people do for fun. I thought maybe we should try it out, and Lucy was the one who gave me the kit."

Enzo, Ivan and Aaron exchanged a look.

Maybe they could give it a shot. They were all friends after all, and friends do fun stuff like this together.

And friendship bracelets sounded like a great way to seal their friendship.

So Aaron was the first one to say yes.

After lunch, the boys began to work on making their bracelets, and making sure none of the teachers saw them as they passed different colored beads and strings to each other.

Pretty soon after school, they had three bracelets each.

Nicky wore a green bracelet, a red bracelet, and an orange bracelet. Enzo wore a blue bracelet, an orange bracelet, and a green bracelet. Aaron wore a blue bracelet, an orange bracelet, and a red bracelet. And Ivan wore a red bracelet, a blue bracelet, and a blue bracelet.

And on each other's bracelets, they've written their names on the strings.

[shadesofdigital]

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[aaryan-mwa-blogs]

Packing the Perfect “Emergency Audio Kit” for Road Gigs

Discover what to pack in an emergency audio kit for road gigs. From spare cables to backup mics, here's how to keep the show running—no matter what goes wrong.

Why Every Performer Needs an Audio Plan B

What a real emergency audio kit looks like: compact, complete, and built for chaos.

No matter how much prep goes into a show, something always goes wrong. A cable dies. A mixer freezes. A mic stops responding mid-set. For anyone hitting the road—whether you’re a DJ, sound engineer, or performer—having a well-packed emergency audio kit isn’t just smart. It’s essential.

Think of it as your on-the-go safety net. Not a full rig, but the curated set of tools that turns tech panic into a smooth recovery.

A Brief History of Backup Gear Culture

In the early days of live audio, gear was big, analog, and bulky. Touring engineers traveled with road cases full of backups because replacement options were limited, and everything had a “just in case” counterpart.

Today’s gear is more compact and digital—but ironically, more fragile in certain ways. Touchscreens freeze. Wi-Fi drops. USB ports wear out. The “gear bag” has evolved from a box of spares to a curated survival kit for modern live tech.

And in an era where convenience often overshadows reliability, pros who prepare for failure still outperform.

What Belongs in an Emergency Audio Kit?

1. Redundant Signal Path Tools

Always carry:

Backup cables (XLR, TRS, USB, RCA)—don’t just carry one of each, carry spares in usable lengths.

DI boxes (active and passive)—to troubleshoot hum, signal loss, or laptop feeds.

Cable adapters—quarter-inch to mini, XLR to TRS, RCA to 1/8”, etc. They’re small but show-saving.

Even a quality signal chain can break down due to something as simple as a worn cable. Keeping extras on hand isn't excessive—it’s practical.

2. Power and Connectivity Essentials

Don’t overlook power—these tools solve problems before they hit the speakers.

You’d be surprised how often power becomes the problem:

Power strips with surge protection

IEC and figure-8 power cables

Battery packs for mobile devices or wireless receivers

Spare extension cords

Ground lift adapters

Always assume the venue forgot a crucial power detail—and be the person who didn’t.

3. Microphone Backups

A solid fallback mic is worth its weight. Keep:

1 dynamic vocal mic (think SM58-style)

1 instrument mic or small diaphragm condenser

Clips, windscreens, and spare cables for both

Even if your main wireless mic dies, having a simple wired dynamic in your kit guarantees the show doesn’t stop.

4. Monitoring Options

If your in-ears glitch or wedges fail:

Spare in-ear monitors or wired headphones

Mini headphone amp to plug in directly if your wireless belt pack dies

Small powered speaker (battery-powered if possible) to use as a last-ditch monitor

It’s not about luxury—it’s about options when your stage sound disappears.

5. Media and Playback Redundancy

Don’t trust the cloud alone.

USB drive with key backing tracks or set files

Tablet or phone loaded with music (in airplane mode)

3.5mm aux cable—every sound tech’s last resort

SD card reader or USB-C hub for modern laptops

One song going missing mid-set can kill the vibe. Back it up like your career depends on it—because sometimes it does.

6. Tools and Quick Fix Supplies

A small pouch with:

Gaffer tape (not duct tape)

Multi-tool or screwdriver

Spare batteries (AA, AAA, 9V)

Cable ties or Velcro straps

Flashlight or headlamp for dark venues

These aren’t “nice to haves.” They’re what separate pros from panicked amateurs.

Kit Philosophy: Versatile, Compact, and Show-Proof

An emergency audio kit should be:

Lightweight enough to carry easily

Modular, so you can swap parts based on venue

Tested—check every item monthly so you’re not hauling dead gear

Don’t just build a kit once and forget it. Update it as your gear evolves, as tech changes, and as your experience teaches you what really fails.

What the Pros Pack (That Amateurs Forget)

Pro-level backups most people forget—until they’re the reason your show doesn’t crash.

Some audio veterans go one step further and carry:

A line checker to test cables on the fly

A network switch for digital rigs using Dante or AVB

Spare SD cards for mixers or field recorders

A Wi-Fi access point for tablet-controlled mixers

These items aren’t always necessary, but in high-stakes gigs or tech-heavy venues, they’ve saved entire shows.

Why This Matters for Retailers and Creators

When assembling your kit, gear choice is key. Not everything sold as “pro” gear can handle the rigors of travel or fast replacement under pressure. This is where working with professional audio retailers can be a huge advantage—they help tailor kits based on real-world performance, not just spec sheets.

A good retailer will suggest:

Cross-compatible adapters

Travel-friendly formats

Rugged, reliable hardware that doesn’t over-complicate

And if you’re just starting to tour, they can recommend scaled kits that grow as your setup expands.

Final Thoughts: Think Like a Sound Paramedic

Live audio is unpredictable. But that doesn’t mean you need to be unprepared. Your emergency audio kit isn’t a luxury—it’s your lifeline. It keeps your set alive, your reputation intact, and your stress levels low.

In the end, the audience shouldn’t know there was ever a problem. With the right kit, they won’t.

Because in this business, it’s not just about sounding great—it’s about staying ready when everything else goes sideways.

[toymoxo]

Toymoxo: Where Fun Meets Future — The Ultimate Toy Brand for Young Dreamers

Welcome to the magical world of Toymoxo — a place where imagination takes flight, creativity rules, and every toy unlocks a new adventure.

We’re not just making toys. We’re crafting experiences that spark curiosity, fuel learning, and bring out the wow in every child. At Toymoxo, play is powerful — and every giggle, question, and discovery is part of the journey we proudly support.

Whether your child is a born builder, a curious thinker, a wild dreamer — or all three — Toymoxo has something just for them.

What Makes Toymoxo So Exciting? Three words: Innovation. Imagination. Inclusion.

In a digital-heavy world, Toymoxo champions real, hands-on, joy-filled play. We design toys that are not just fun, but smart, engaging, and meaningful. And we proudly create toys for every kind of child — including those with special abilities and unique needs.

That’s right — Toymoxo is for everyone. We believe that every child deserves the joy of play. That’s why we’ve developed a thoughtful line of toys specially designed for specially-abled children — toys that support sensory development, motor skills, focus, and emotional growth, while still delivering endless fun.

A Toy for Every Type of Genius No two kids are the same — and that’s exactly why Toymoxo offers a mind-blowing variety of toys to fit every personality, interest, and ability:

Learning Toys: Alphabet games, number puzzles, logic-building tools — these make education feel like magic, not homework.

STEM Super Kits: For future scientists, engineers, and inventors — our build-your-own gadgets, robots, and circuits bring science to life.

Pretend & Role-Play Toys: From doctor kits to dollhouses, these toys let kids explore emotions, build empathy, and create imaginary worlds.

Art & DIY Craft Boxes: Packed with paints, stickers, and creative challenges — our kits are a burst of color and confidence.

Eco-Friendly Wooden Toys: Beautiful, natural, and safe — these timeless toys are great for tiny hands and big imaginations.

Toys for Specially-Abled Children: This inclusive range includes sensory toys, textured puzzles, soft tactile playsets, and sound/light responsive tools. They’re specially crafted to help children with autism, ADHD, motor challenges, and other developmental needs engage, focus, and thrive — all while having a blast.

Designed by Experts. Loved by Kids. Trusted by Parents. Every Toymoxo product goes through a strict quality process — because we don’t just make toys, we make child-safe treasures.

Non-toxic paints BPA-free materials Smooth, rounded edges Sturdy designs built to last Compliant with international safety standards

We believe in combining the science of learning with the joy of play. Whether your child is two or twelve, neurotypical or neurodivergent, Toymoxo toys are created to nurture, entertain, and support their individual growth.

Proudly Made in India, Celebrated Worldwide Toymoxo is proudly made in India, blending traditional craftsmanship with world-class design. From small-town homes to global cities, our toys are reaching children across India, Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and beyond.

We combine Indian creativity with global innovation, making Toymoxo a favorite of parents, educators, and therapists everywhere.

Not Just a Toy Brand — A Movement for Play Toymoxo is more than toys. We are on a mission to make play accessible, inclusive, and impactful.

We actively work with NGOs, educators, and special needs therapists to ensure our toys reach underprivileged children and those with different learning abilities. Our Play for All campaign donates toys to schools, learning centers, and therapy hubs across India — because we believe no child should miss out on the magic of play.

We also run the Toymoxo Parenting Club, where moms and dads can find expert advice, DIY toy ideas, playtime activities, and child development tips.

What's Next? The Future of Fun is Just Beginning Toymoxo is always one step ahead — and we’ve got exciting new launches in the pipeline:

AR-enabled interactive toys App-connected learning tools Language-learning toys for multilingual growth Advanced sensory toys for therapy use Sustainable packaging and Earth-friendly innovations

From a baby’s first rattle to a teen’s first coding kit — Toymoxo grows with your child and makes every stage unforgettable.

Join the Toymoxo Revolution Thousands of families already trust Toymoxo to bring smiles, learning, and laughter into their homes. When you choose Toymoxo, you're choosing:

Creative play Skill-building fun Thoughtful design Inclusive joy Quality that lasts

So, whether your child is stacking blocks, solving a puzzle, role-playing as a superhero, or just exploring textures and sounds in their own unique way — Toymoxo is right there, cheering them on.

Because every child deserves a toy that makes them feel seen, included, and unstoppable.

Toymoxo — Let’s Play Big. Let’s Play Together.