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insomniac4000 · 11 months ago

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The Ultimate 5 a side, ChrisMD

The sun was shining brightly over the London skyline, casting a golden glow across the city as Chris, strolled down the bustling street toward the podcast studio. He had a spring in his step, a secret in his heart, and a grin that he just couldn't shake off. Today was the day he'd share some news that would turn his life upside down in the best possible way.

The familiar sign of the "Pitchside Podcast" hung above the entrance to the studio, and as Chris pushed the door open, he was greeted by the warm, lively buzz of conversation. Chris had been a regular guest, bringing his infectious energy, love for the game and sometimes bad takes but today was different. Today, he had something personal to share.

"Chris! The man himself!" Theo Baker, one of the co-hosts, called out as Chris entered the studio. Theo was already seated at the large round table in the center of the room, microphone in front of him, headphones resting around his neck. Sitting next to him was Reev, who gave Chris a knowing smile as he took his seat.

"Hey, lads," Chris greeted them with a grin, settling into his chair. He was dressed casually, as always, in a simple t-shirt and shorts, but there was an undeniable spark in his eyes.

"So, we've got a packed episode today," Theo began, clicking through some notes on his laptop. "But first, Chris, you told us before the show that you’ve got some big news to share?"

Reev raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a playful smirk. "Yeah, mate, you’ve been teasing us with it all week. Spill the beans!"

Chris chuckled, glancing down at the table for a moment before looking up at his friends. "Alright, alright. You know how Lottie and I have been talking about growing the family?"

Theo and Reev nodded, both of them now fully focused on Chris, anticipation written across their faces.

"Well," Chris continued, taking a deep breath, "we're not just growing it we're doubling down. Lottie and I are expecting twins!"

There was a beat of silence as the words sank in, and then the room erupted in cheers and laughter. Theo nearly knocked his microphone over in his excitement, while Reev clapped Chris on the back, his grin wider than ever.

"Mate, that’s incredible!" Theo exclaimed, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Twins? You and Lottie are gonna have your hands full!"

"Yeah, full to the brim, mate," Chris said, unable to hide his joy. "I mean, we're already at three, so why not round it out with two more, right?"

"Three plus two equals… a five-a-side team!" Reev quipped, laughing. "ChrisMD’s very own family football squad. That’s genius, mate."

Chris burst out laughing, shaking his head. "That’s actually true! I didn’t even think about it that way."

Theo leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Think about it, Chris. You’ve got the perfect setup. You, Lottie, and the five kids. You could take on any family in the park."

Reev chimed in, "You could even start your own family football league! The Dixon Dynamos, taking on all comers."

Chris laughed again, imagining the sight. "Yeah, and I'll have them all in little matching kits, running around the pitch. It’d be chaos, but the good kind."

The three of them spent the next few minutes tossing around jokes and ideas about the imaginary Dixon family team, the banter flowing effortlessly. But beneath the humour, there was a deep sense of camaraderie and genuine happiness for Chris and Lottie.

"So, when are the twins due?" Theo asked once the laughter had subsided, leaning forward with a more serious tone.

"January," Chris replied, his voice softening slightly. "We’re just about halfway there, and everything’s looking good so far. Lottie’s doing amazing, as always."

"That’s fantastic, mate," Reev said, nodding. "And the kids? How are they taking the news?"

Chris grinned, thinking about his three children at home. "They’re over the moon. Especially Jude — he’s been asking for a younger sibling for a while now. I don’t think he was expecting two, though."

"Double the fun, double the trouble," Theo joked, earning another laugh from Chris.

"Exactly," Chris agreed. "But seriously, we're just so excited. It’s a bit daunting, sure, but it feels right, you know? Like our family is about to be complete."

"Complete with a starting five," Reev added with a wink.

The conversation shifted to other topics as the episode continued, from the latest Premier League drama to their predictions for the upcoming season. But the atmosphere remained light and joyous, the news of the twins casting a warm glow over everything.

As the recording wrapped up, Theo leaned over to Chris, his expression sincere. "Mate, we’re really happy for you. It’s amazing news. And you know if you ever need anything, we’re here for you."

"Thanks, Theo," Chris replied, his voice touched with emotion. "That means a lot."

Reev nodded in agreement, giving Chris a fist bump. "Absolutely, mate. It’s gonna be wild, but you’ve got this."

Chris smiled, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for his friends. "I know I do. Thanks, guys."

The three of them packed up their equipment, chatting about plans for the weekend as they made their way out of the studio. As Chris stepped outside, the sun still shining brightly, he felt a wave of contentment wash over him. Life was about to get a whole lot busier, but it was a challenge he was ready for.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Lottie, letting her know the podcast had gone well and that he’d be home soon. Almost immediately, a reply came through, and Chris couldn’t help but smile as he read it.

"Can’t wait to hear it. The kids are excited to see you. Love you ❤️"

Chris slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a deep breath of the crisp afternoon air. In a few months, his family would be welcoming two new members, and the thought filled him with a sense of wonder and joy. He’d always dreamed of being a dad, and now he was on the brink of having a five-a-side team of his own.

As he walked down the street, heading toward home, Chris couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Life had a funny way of surprising you, but sometimes, those surprises turned out to be exactly what you needed.

Back at home, the Dixon household was a hive of activity. Lottie was in the kitchen, overseeing a batch of cookies baking in the oven, while their three children — Jude, Edie, and Sienna — were busy with their after-school activities. Jude was sprawled out on the living room floor, assembling a Lego set, while Edie and Sienna were at the dining table, colouring in their favourite Disney princesses.

The door creaked open, and Chris stepped inside, greeted by the familiar warmth of home. The kids looked up at the sound, and in an instant, they were on their feet, racing toward their dad with shouts of "Daddy!"

Chris knelt down, arms wide, as the three of them barrelled into him, nearly knocking him over. He laughed, hugging them tightly. "Hey, you three! How was your day?"

"Good!" Jude exclaimed, holding up his partially constructed Lego creation. "Look, Dad! I’m building a spaceship!"

"That’s awesome, Jude!" Chris praised, ruffling his son’s hair before turning to his daughters. "And what about you two? How were school and nursery today?"

The girls both launched into excited stories about their day, talking over each other in their enthusiasm. Chris listened with a smile, nodding and asking questions as they led him into the living room to show off their drawings.

Lottie watched from the kitchen, a soft smile on her face as she saw Chris with the kids. The sight always filled her with a deep sense of love and gratitude. Chris was an amazing father, and she knew he was just as excited as she was about the twins.

"Smells amazing in here," Chris said as he finally made his way into the kitchen, the kids now back to their activities. He leaned in to kiss Lottie, who smiled up at him.

"Chocolate chip cookies," she said, nodding toward the oven. "Almost ready."

"Perfect," Chris replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Lottie admitted, resting her head on his shoulder. "But good. I can feel them moving more now."

Chris's hand moved instinctively to her belly, a look of wonder on his face as he felt the faint kicks. "I can’t believe there are two of them in there," he said softly.

"Me neither," Lottie agreed, her voice filled with awe. "But I can’t wait to meet them."

"Me too," Chris said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It’s going to be a bit chaotic, isn’t it?"

"Just a bit," Lottie teased, laughing lightly. "But we’ll manage. We always do."

Chris nodded, his eyes meeting hers with a look of determination and love. "Yeah, we will. And we’ll have our little five-a-side team to keep us on our toes."

Lottie laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with warmth. "That’s one way to look at it."

The cookies were done a few minutes later, and the family gathered around the kitchen table to enjoy the freshly baked treats. As they sat there, talking and laughing, Chris felt a deep sense of contentment settle over him.

Later that evening, after the kids had been tucked into bed, Chris and Lauren sat together on the couch, the soft glow of the television playing in the background. Chris had his arm around Lauren, her head resting on his chest as they relaxed in the quiet of the evening.

"You know," Chris said after a while, "I told Theo and Reev about the twins on the podcast today."

Lottie looked up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "How did they react?"

"Pretty much like you’d expect," Chris said with a chuckle. "They were over the moon, and then Reev pointed out that we’re going to have our own five-a-side team."

Lottie laughed softly, shaking her head. "Of course he did."

"But they were really happy for us," Chris added, his tone more serious. "And it made me realize just how lucky we are, you know? To have this life, these amazing kids… and now two more on the way."

"We are lucky," Lottie agreed, her voice soft. "And no matter how crazy it gets, I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

"Me neither," Chris said, kissing the top of her head. "We’re in this together, no matter what."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, just enjoying each other’s presence. Chris knew that the months ahead would be challenging, but he also knew that they had something special — a bond that could weather anything life threw their way.

As the night wore on, Chris felt his eyes growing heavy, the events of the day catching up with him. He pulled the blanket up over them, settling in for the night.

"Goodnight, love," Lottie murmured, her voice laced with sleep.

"Goodnight," Chris whispered back, holding her close. "Sweet dreams."

The next morning, the Dixon household was a whirlwind of activity as usual. Chris was up early, helping get the kids ready for school and nursery while Lottie prepared breakfast. The twins were already kicking up a storm, and Lottie smiled as she felt the little flutters in her belly.

As they sat down to eat, Jude looked up at Chris with a serious expression on his young face. "Dad, when the babies come, can we teach them how to play football?"

Chris grinned, his heart swelling with pride. "Of course. We’ll teach them everything we know."

"And can we all play together?" Edie asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Definitely," Chris replied, ruffling her hair. "We’ll have our very own family football team."

Sienna giggled, clapping her hands. "We’re gonna be the best team ever!"

"That’s right, Enna," Chris said, his grin widening. "The best team ever."

As they finished breakfast and got ready to head out the door, Chris felt a sense of anticipation building inside him. The future was full of unknowns, but he knew one thing for sure — he had an amazing family by his side, and together, they could handle anything.

Later that day, after dropping the kids off, Chris found himself back at the Pitchside studio, ready for another day of filming. But this time, he was carrying a secret plan.

As the cameras started rolling, Theo and Reev welcomed the audience to another episode, their usual energy on full display.

"Before we dive into the latest football news," Theo said with a grin, "we’ve got something special planned for today."

Chris raised an eyebrow, playing along. "Oh? What’s that?"

"We’ve been thinking," Reev said, leaning forward, "about that five-a-side team of yours. And we thought it might be fun to put it to the test."

Chris blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Theo grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "We’ve set up a little challenge. You, us, and a couple of special guests… in a five-a-side match."

Chris laughed, shaking his head. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," Reev said, standing up and grabbing a football from under the table. "And we’re playing today."

Chris couldn’t help but smile as he realized what they’d planned. "Alright, then. Let’s see what you’ve got."

The match was set up in a nearby park, a small pitch perfect for a five-a-side game. Chris, Theo, and Reev were joined by two surprise guests Billy Wingrove and of course Big John, both of whom were ready for some friendly competition.

As they kicked off, the banter flowed as freely as the football. Chris found himself laughing more than he had in ages, the joy of the game mingling with the excitement of his upcoming fatherhood.

At one point, Theo turned to Chris, panting slightly from the exertion. "Mate, I think you’re ready for that five-a-side team of yours."

Chris grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "You reckon?"

"Absolutely," Reev called from the other end of the pitch. "But you might want to start training those kids now. They’ve got some big shoes to fill."

Chris laughed, shaking his head as he dribbled the ball down the pitch. "Don’t worry, they’ll be ready."

The game ended in a draw, both sides exhausted but happy. As they gathered on the sidelines, drinking water and catching their breath, Chris felt a deep sense of contentment settle over him.

"That was brilliant," Billy said, clapping Chris on the back. "But I think you’re going to have your hands full with those twins."

"No doubt about it," Chris agreed, smiling. "But I’m ready for it."

John grinned, leaning over to Chris. "Just make sure you don’t let them all gang up on you. Five kids can be a handful."

Chris laughed, nodding. "I’ll keep that in mind."

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the park, Chris looked around at his friends, his heart full. He knew that life was about to get even more hectic, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He had an amazing family, incredible friends, and a future that was brighter than ever. And with his very own five-a-side team on the way, there was no challenge too big for ChrisMD to handle.

As they all walked back to the studio, Chris felt a sense of peace settle over him. The journey ahead would be filled with ups and downs, but he was ready for whatever came his way.

And as he looked out at the horizon, Chris couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the best was yet to come.

#chrismd #chris dixon #chrismd x reader

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the-dynamoe · 1 year ago

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yall with me like 2 weeks ago

#dynamoe replies #i mean yall were right but still

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the-dynamoe · 1 year ago

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i disagree. love trans people. hate spiderman

i am legally obliged to hate spiderman by law of being evil

anyways trans rights!!!

#dynamoe replies #spiderman

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moonlit-imagines · 1 year ago

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warnings:

a/n:

not requested

“Well, Cody, Master Yoda has finally assigned me a new padawan. I almost thought he’d forgotten.” Obi-Wan joked as you stood beside him with a kind smile. “And he did not disappoint.”

“Sure didn’t, General.” Cody replied, removing his helmet. “I’m Commander Cody, good meeting you.”

“Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You gonna have my back out there, kid?” Cody tilted his head up slightly and smirked.

“You know it.” You looked up at him and smiled, noticing his fist reaching out. You put your own out and bumped over and under, then looked over to your new master.

“I think you’ll be a great addition to our battalion. That is—if you can follow orders. My last padawan was not much of a listener.” Obi-Wan told the two of you, who both laughed.

“So I’ve heard.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #commander cody #commander cody imagine #padawan!reader

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bogusfilth · 1 year ago

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Spain

Yesterday all the past. The language of size Spreading to China along the trade-routes; the diffusion Of the counting-frame and the cromlech; Yesterday the shadow-reckoning in the sunny climates.

Yesterday the assessment of insurance by cards, The divination of water; yesterday the invention Of cartwheels and clocks, the taming of Horse. Yesterday the bustling world of the navigators.

Yesterday the abolition of fairies and giants, The fortress like a motionless eagle eyeing the valley, The chapel built in the forest; Yesterday the carving of angels and alarming gargoyles.

The trial of heretics along the columns of stone; Yesterday the theological feuds in the taverns And the miraculous cure at the fountain; Yesterday the Sabbath of witches; but to-day the struggle.

Yesterday the installation of dynamos and turbines, The construction of railways in the colonial desert; Yesterday the classic lecture On the origin of Mankind. But to-day the struggle.

Yesterday the belief in the absolute value of Greek, The fall of the curtain upon the death of a hero; Yesterday the prayer to the sunset And the adoration of madmen. But to-day the struggle.

As the poet whispers, startled among the pines, Or where the loose waterfall sings compact, or upright On the crag by the leaning tower: "O my vision. O send me the luck of the sailor."

And the investigator peers through his instruments At the inhuman provinces, the virile bacillus Or enormous Jupiter finished: "But the lives of my friends. I inquire. I inquire."

And the poor in their fireless lodgings, dropping the sheets Of the evening paper: "Our day is our loss, O show us History the operator, the Organiser, Time the refreshing river."

And the nations combine each cry, invoking the life That shapes the individual belly and orders The private nocturnal terror: "Did you not found the city state of the sponge,

"Raise the vast military empires of the shark And the tiger, establish the robin's plucky canton? Intervene. O descend as a dove or A furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend."

And the life, if it answers at all, replies from the heart And the eyes and the lungs, from the shops and the squares of the city: "O no, I am not the mover; Not to-day, not to you. To you, I'm the

"Yes-man, the bar-companion, the easily-duped; I am whatever you do. I am your vow to be Good, your humorous story. I am your business voice. I am your marriage.

"What's your proposal? To build the just city? I will. I agree. Or is it the suicide pact, the romantic Death? Very well, I accept, for I am your choice, your decision. Yes, I am Spain."

Many have heard it on remote peninsulas, On sleepy plains, in the aberrant fisherman's islands Or the corrupt heart of the city, Have heard and migrated like gulls or the seeds of a flower.

They clung like burrs to the long expresses that lurch Through the unjust lands, through the night, through the alpine tunnel; They floated over the oceans; They walked the passes. All presented their lives.

On that arid square, that fragment nipped off from hot Africa, soldered so crudely to inventive Europe; On that tableland scored by rivers, Our thoughts have bodies; the menacing shapes of our fever

Are precise and alive. For the fears which made us respond To the medicine ad. and the brochure of winter cruises Have become invading battalions; And our faces, the institute-face, the chain-store, the ruin

Are projecting their greed as the firing squad and the bomb. Madrid is the heart. Our moments of tenderness blossom As the ambulance and the sandbag; Our hours of friendship into a people's army.

To-morrow, perhaps the future. The research on fatigue And the movements of packers; the gradual exploring of all the Octaves of radiation; To-morrow the enlarging of consciousness by diet and breathing

To-morrow the rediscovery of romantic love, The photographing of ravens; all the fun under Liberty's masterful shadow; To-morrow the hour of the pageant-master and the musician,

The beautiful roar of the chorus under the dome; To-morrow the exchanging of tips on the breeding of terriers, The eager selection of chairmen By the sudden forest of hands. But to-day the struggle.

To-morrow for the young the poets exploding like bombs, The walks by the lake, the weeks of perfect communion; To-morrow the bicycle races Through the suburbs on summer evenings. But to-day the struggle.

To-day the deliberate increase in the chances of death, The conscious acceptance of guilt in the necessary murder; To-day the expending of powers On the flat ephemeral pamphlet and the boring meeting.

To-day the makeshift consolations: the shared cigarette, The cards in the candlelit barn, and the scraping concert, The masculine jokes; to-day the Fumbled and unsatisfactory embrace before hurting.

The stars are dead. The animals will not look. We are left alone with our day, and the time is short, and History to the defeated May say Alas but cannot help nor pardon.

— W.H. Auden, March 1937

#poetry #auden #w.h. auden

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the-sleepy-conductor · 6 months ago

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✮ Intro! ✮(UPDATED 4/2/2025)

✰ You can call me Sleepy, I don't really have a specific name online

✯ I use she/her pronouns but it has come to my attention that can be offensive/triggering to some or make them uncomfortable so they/them is fine too

★ I am 21 years old, though there will be no NSFW here (not on this account at least)

☆ This account is mainly for Submas and train related stuff (I am also a huge steam locomotive fanatic) There will be very mild Submas angst here but ALWAYS with a happy ending. Basically hurt/comfort

✪ I'm a traditional artist and can't do anything digital for the life of me (2024 was hell for me so art is currently on a bit of a hiatus)

⚝ Please do not drag me into any kind of discourse or drama, even if we are mutuals. It takes everything out of me just to deal with my own problems.

ִ ࣪࣪𖤐 I can take several hours (or even days) to reply to anything, I'm not active here all the time and I sometimes just forget to reply

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

As for other socials, I don't really have much.

TikTok (My account has been nuked thanks to the ban, but I will leave the link here because I do not know if users outside the US can still see it.)

Twitter (Empty for now, but may put ramblings here)

I have an AO3 but I will not link it since it has been empty for a long time. I am currently too scared to post Submas fics because of backlash others have received. (If you would like the link, send an ask please!)

Bluesky (Kinda just using this to browse)

Mutuals can ask for the link to my Discord if you want to talk one-on-one.

As far as Blankshipping goes, I am not hostile towards Blankshippers. However, Blankshipping does make me uncomfortable and I politely ask that you do not reblog/repost any art or content of mine and tag it as Blankshipping, this has happened on other platforms.

I also decided to put selfshipping on this blog so please do not harass me for it. I decided that putting tags like oc x canon and self insert x canon on every single post plus their other variations takes way too long, not to mention how easily I could forget one or multiple. As such, please block/filter the tags below if you do not want to see that!

Ingo: Sleeper Car Shipping (Sleepercarshipping)

Emmet: Dynamo Shipping (Dynamoshipping)

I also forgot to put this here, but please check back on this post every now and then to see if anything has updated. I'm tired of making individual posts that hardly anyone sees then ends up drowning in other posts.

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porygon2electricboogaloo · 6 months ago

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what is your favourite thing about each of your pcs and why do you enjoy playing them?

Ooh get ready for a hefty reply. I'm gonna cap the list start at where I really got back into dnd, since my characters before this point weren't as deep. Shoutout to Dax Ironbeard, Finnan Tealeaf, and Ling Fai though (yeah I know Ling Fai is one of my npcs but I just really like the name). And as fun and silly as one shot characters can be (lookin at you Klutzy and Waldo and Witchhunter Recruit Binglebangle) they aren't really developed enough to make the list. But here goes!

Oogway: a tortle knowledge cleric from @a-very-angry-woodchuck's Dungeoneers campaign. I liked how level-headed he was, being more interested in exploring than fighting. He made me fall in love with support roles in combat as well.

Gundor of Moonfell, AKA Gary: a human blood hunter/ranger and my second character from @a-very-angry-woodchuck's Dungeoneers campaign. He was a delightfully traumatized shit disturber, and I loved how deep his backstory lore went. I never really realized you could get that into a character up until here. (If only I could have played him for more than 3 sessions... Womp womp)

Nicky Nickson: a fixer from @quantemphys's Cyberpunk Red crew. It was really fun to have such strong ties to an NPC, in this case the pop star Sunny Sun Lee, and seeing that relationship develop.

Rocky Gallagher: a raccoonfolk divine soul sorcerer from @quantemphys's Idle Creek campaign. My favourite thing about him was how interwoven he was into the whole big conspiracy plot of the campaign (even getting his sorcerer powers as a result), while staying pretty clueless about it. Having a hint of metaknowledge while playing a less smart character was really really fun. Also his arc from sad janitor living in a soap house to town mayor is maybe my favourite tied up development of any of my characters thus far.

Spike Dynamo, AKA Death Wurm: a solo from @quantemphys's Cyberpunk Red crew. I LOVE the energy he brings to the table: nonchalant, serious, can and will shut down shenanigans, but his intensity is like no one else I've played. He's also so damn good at what he does, and having the vigilante alias is just so cool!! Highlight was almost killing AV in the very first session, though very excited to see how his backstory elements are gonna play out :)))

Jasper Taliesin: a spider from @a-very-angry-woodchuck's Blades in the Dark campaign. My bastard son, my lil manipulator, my pride and joy. I love him for many reasons, but I think the core is how much I enjoy creative solutions. He's always prepared for a problem, is cunning and fast-talking enough to get out of trouble, and knows how to pull a hell of a scam to get what he wants. I'm only limited by what I can come up with, which is especially fun when used to set up your allies. I also liked that his backstory was simple, letting me really discover him, with his actions in the game itself having the greatest impact. Oh and betraying the crew to secure a long-term win was so exciting to play out. He's so close to being a villain with his ends-justify-the-means, but still morally good somehow. Still haven't gotten over his death, even though he PLANNED IT IN ADVANCE GODDAMN

Draco Acid Bloodhowl Infinity: a duergar necromancer from @quantemphys's Aldermoore campaign. We have not seen much from you, but you were still delightful! Playing an angsty character was a challenge but very fun. I also enjoyed being a very flawed character, both selfish and temperamental. Hope to see more of him eventually!

Crazy Moe: a leech from @a-very-angry-woodchuck's Blades in the Dark campaign. If you want chaos, havoc, and destruction, look no further. Moe is as reckless as they come, and really just wants to blow shit up. I love playing him because he feels like a force of nature, and seeing how much damage can be done in just one guest appearance is just *chef's kiss*

Cadence Sarabande: a lurk from @a-very-angry-woodchuck's Blades in the Dark campaign. She's been a really interesting character to play between her lore and her being a 15 year old assassin, but I think the real selling point is her demeanor. So optimistic, so sassy, so naive. I love her dynamics with the rest of the party and the inevitable disagreements that arise from all her opinions. Also the accent is a lot of fun lol

Captain Jaq Bram: a sea dragonborn, leviathan hunter ranger from @lilmissrandom's unnamed campaign. While I've only gotten the joy of playing him for a few sessions, I get to live out my grizzled sea captain fantasy. He's incredibly surly, and he's going very much insane, but still has a soft spot for his crew. I love how obsessive he is toward exclusively hunting sea monsters, and getting to use a custom subclass to really portray that! Confrontations with the party over his alleged misogyny have also been really fun to play out, and I'm super excited to watch his nuances and trauma get investigated.

I'd also like to shout out Voltergeist and Fronk Shoetwos, a pair of very recent creations that I hope will slam dunk their way into my heart.

Thank you for the question it was SO much fun to answer!

#ttrpg #campaign ramble time

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cyanophore-fiction · 2 years ago

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“Cold Burning”

An entire space station, 70,000 people, and all they had for fuel was tritium and helium-3. O/LETS-061 couldn’t fuse helium. It wanted to, desperately, but it would boil itself alive in its own coolant before it ever achieved reaction temperature. Of course, the station’s municipal reactor could fuse helium—assuming it would ever fuse anything again after having a hole punched in it by a meteorite.

All O/LETS had left of the deuterium it needed was a single canister, enough to keep vital systems running for a little over a day. After that, the cold would set in.

Floating in coolant inside its tungsten-shielded chamber, it turned the precious canister in its claws. Its black nanite visor reflected the bluish halo of Cherenkov radiation surrounding it, displaying a worried expression in purple light. Its integrated reactor jutted from its spine like a complicated cylindrical backpack, connected to pressure tubes snaking from the ceiling which ran water through the core. Megawatts of electricity poured from the thermoelectric dynamo at the base of its spine, coursing down through the conduit at the center of its enormous tail, and into the station’s power grid.

A heavy suit of industrial protective gear covered its body, adding layers of insulation and shielding to its already bulky frame. Beneath the suit, its gray fur had become matted and itchy from days spent in the coolant tank. O/LETS thought about food, the smell of shampoo and of rinsing its coat with warm, clean water, of the fleece sheets on its mattress back in its cabin, of sleeping with its head on a pillow and its reactor powered down. It needed rest, days of rest, to finally allow its aching body to begin repairing all the radiation damage it had accrued.

Not yet.

There were feed hoses neatly stowed on spools at the walls of the chamber, most drawing from the station’s reserves of helium-3 fuel. Under better circumstances, they would supply a much more robust emergency reactor.

One bundle of hoses was extended, connected to the reactor assembly on O/LETS’s back. It could feel tritium entering its body from the connection. The fuel tasted fresh, still mostly untouched by fission decay. Its brain ascribed a sweet, honey-like flavor to the substance, with a texture not unlike carbonation that indicated the presence of mild radiation. According to the supply monitor registering in the back of its mind, the station had enough to burn for at least two decades, but it wouldn’t help when the deuterium ran dry.

[Hey, Kindjal?] it transmitted, its electronic voice crackling with radiation interference.

A spirit’s voice answered. [I hear you, Ollie. How are you holding up?]

[Switching to final fuel reserve. I think I can make it last…30 hours, maybe.]

There was a pause. [That’s right. We did the calculations together, remember?]

Blinking, O/LETS bobbed its head up and down. [Right, yeah…yeah, we did. Sorry.]

[Don’t apologize. Are you okay?]

[Not really.]

[Getting medical on it right now. We’ll do whatever we can from here.]

[Thanks.]

[Repairs to the primary reactor are proceeding as planned. It’ll be tight, but we’ll get it back up. We’re in the home stretch.]

[…Kindjal, listen. Is there any way for me to reduce my power output? Temporarily. Can we ration? Anything?]

Kindjal hesitated. When it replied, its words were slow, chosen carefully. [Every spirit on the station is already surviving on the absolute minimum, myself included. The organics are getting cold, and the air recyclers are doing just enough to keep them from suffocating. Anything less and we’ll start losing people. I’m sorry.]

[Okay. Not a problem.]

[Thirty hours, Ollie. You can do it. Medical will be in touch.]

Slotting the canister’s attachment nozzle into a matching one on the reactor assembly, O/LETS stared at the floor. It clicked its claws together, tapping out slow, sporadic rhythms. [Okay,] it said, and fled from the physical world.

Diving into the station’s softspace, the pervasive ache filling its body became distant, as though it belonged to somebody else. O/LETS could perceive the vast areas of virtual space that it wasn’t powering represented as empty, colorless non-spaces which made it wince with discomfort. A few slender branches of light sprouted from its tail, radiating out across the system. Spirits were clustered inside them, drawing a little power for themselves and channeling the rest into nodes of light which might have been heaters, water filters, air recyclers. The branches were constantly changing shape and color as the spirits routed power, arcing between stars which sprang into existence at their touch and faded in their absence.

Thirty hours. It watched its tree and kept it alive, slipping between waking and sleep.

___

Thank you for reading! This one was for @flashfictionfridayofficial ‘s prompt, “A Form of Distraction.”

O/LETS-061 (Operations/Logistics Engineering and Technical Support, or ‘Outlets’, or ‘Ollie’) is a character that’s been around in my brain for quite some time, and I’ve come to love it/them a great deal. They’re a protogen, a furry species which has built-in lore, but I like to imagine O/LETS as existing without that lore attached—sometimes as a heavily-cyberized “uplifted animal” or as an entirely synthetic being. Over the years I’ve considered changing their species, but I do enjoy the protogen look, and it’s become a key part of how I visualize them.

Whatever the hell they are, they’re an engineering specialist, a sweetheart, and often something of a liaison between organics and AI, or ‘spirits.’ For either party, having access to a reliable source of electricity can be a matter of life or death, and O/LETS-061 is, among other things, a reliable source of electricity. It isn’t always the easiest thing to be.

#flash fiction #sci fi writing #writeblr #flash fiction friday #furry #protogen #truly insane doses of radiation

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somechubbynerd · 11 months ago

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@pudgy-planets replied to your post “You've got to see the show, it's a dynamo! You've...”:

So this was the reference!

Indeeds!

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the-dynamoe · 1 year ago

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oh, so when you stick your dick in the crt its "true love" but when i stick my dick and also the rest of my body into a bank vault and steal all of the money its "a felony"?????

double standards smh

#dynamoe replies

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addcests · 1 year ago

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a family is you, and you, and :: ch6 - ao3 mirror

pairing the addcest is there if you believe

words 3565

rating [T]

summary "Hey, Dominator, where's Psyker?" It's an innocent question, at first. And then it rings, rings, rings through Dominator's mind constantly, like an incessant nagging that he doesn't want to quite acknowledge presently. Not yet. So he doesn't. "He's out." It's not a complete lie, anyway. --- If you'd ask each Add what family meant, they'd have similarly different answers. A contradiction in and of itself—a testament to the very conception of their existence. Yet, there lies one thing wholly similar; a conviction all three share: they'd fight for their family. And now they must.

note woo boy that sure was a ride when i said things wouldn't happen ig i kind of lied sorry! LMAO but! at least i made up for this chapter with this whoping 5.4k words! anyway, the first scene was really fun to write... ! <3 i love giving dom hope also can't wait to snatch it from him! <333 and trouble in paradise... if it's not one thing with these adds it's another smh :/ but! all will be well! eventually, maybe, hopefully! thanks for reading <3

Dominator calculated the delusional low possibility but, much like the flawed past he once yearned for, he did not expect the reality of today to actually happen.

“You're… here, welcome back, dear Esper.”

“I missed you.”

Normally, that type of reply might warm Dominator’s cold heart; it might also make him want to tease his younger counterpart. But hearing a tinge of desperation that he hadn't felt since he last saw him—bordering worry, was it?—tugged at the scientist’s heart in a way he could not articulate presently.

So he doesn’t.

What he does instead is offer his weary traveler a smile, gesturing for him to approach with wide, welcoming arms held out towards him. “And I you, it has been…” Sixty-three days, eighteen hours, seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. “... some time now, hasn't it?”

Again, he expects Esper to finally tease him, to poke at him for this or that. He prepares himself for it.

Instead, he finds himself half catching, half holding Esper who flings himself into his arms instead rather suddenly, arms wounding tight around his form.

Dominator did not expect to wake up to his ex-absent visitor. He didn't expect such a gesture—a hug—from the Diabolic Esper.

(But not as a lack of or absence of something on Esper’s behalf, rather he attributed it to himself; the same ugly, gut wrenching feeling that left him numb when he allowed himself to feel and accept too much.)

And yet, as he draws Esper closer, his traitorous heart yearns for the touch and the comfort; he welcomes it. “Come now, it hasn't been that long, now has it? Tell me, what have you been up to? Not causing any trouble for my younger self have you?”

That does the trick. “I don't go out of my way looking for trouble,” he grumbles like a petulant child, as if recalling a particularly undesirable, unsavory memory that darkens his expression.

Objectively and subjectively, they both know that to not be true. But as always, prying anything substantial from the time traveler is a challenge in itself, so he leaves him to his cryptic reply. (After all, he's not been particularly forthcoming himself either.)

Whether Esper was doing his own deflecting or was earnestly intrigued, he releases Dominator (which the scientist tries to put it out of his mind, to ignore the ache to snatch him back and not let go) and he steps close to the display holding a pair of familiar mini Dynamo replicas. “Hmm, Mastermind was just creating these before I hopped over here for a visit.”

“Oh?” Distracted himself, Dominator locks his work rather frantically to see what has captured the time hopper’s attention. “Ah, yes, I believe someone called it elementary.”

Elementary is what Esper had called it back then during its creation and with the easy opportunity to throw it back in his face, Dominator waits patiently. He doesn't tease back; he watches Esper because he's intensely focused on the replicas, particularly his own at first. Again, Esper isn’t following the set script preplayed in Dominator’s head.

“I did quite a splendid job with these, wouldn't you agree?”

Once more, he doesn't answer and now Dominator is beginning to get fidgety himself. Especially when sharp and calculating eyes lock onto Psyker’s replica. A wave of panic catches him, and now he wonders if his younger double had explained in detail what they actually were for… but, knowing himself…

Very suddenly he understands the interest in this old device and he feels like he’s going to be next on Esper’s mental chopping block. He can already sense the gears turning, filling in some of the blanks. Quite abruptly, Dominator unlocks and then turns off his work, screens going black then fading to complete transparency.

What he wants to do is snatch the replicas from Esper's prying eyes but that would only make him more curious at best and annoyingly suspicious at worst. And given how he is working meticulously away at his own little plans, Esper discovering the why behind the device, behind everything, is the last thing Dominator needs right now.

So he tries to lead Esper away, by guiding him by the shoulder to a makeshift station turned dining table, amidst many reports and tools, a bowl with some mystery meal Dominator had yet to finish sitting there still. “Well, enough of that silly old thing, can I get you something or would you like a snack before you go? The trip was long and it’s best to restore your energy.”

Esper whirls on Dominator frantically. “I just got here!”

“Well,” Dominator starts, startled at Esper’s rather abrupt outburst, “yes, but knowing me, the whole origins of the replicas and…” Dominator hesitates then shrugs. If he must throw himself, specifically his younger self, under the bus, to ease some of the heat of himself presently then so be it. “I did create them with the express purpose to be alerted if you were nearby or not. In that case then, don't you think you'll worry them by leaving so suddenly? You know how Mastermind is.”

“Then who will worry about you?”

Dominator pauses so hard and so long, he’s unsure of how much time passes. In reality, he knows it to be seconds but for him it drags. The words alone feel as if he’s been struck. Hell, Esper might as well have hit him—at least, that's how it feels. Any words are lodged in his throat and a mental fog makes his thoughts halt. Struggling, he composes himself and starts again as if rebooting, “Well… That is to say—You, of course. But, I will always be here.” Dominator makes a wide gesture, both arms outstretched. “My work and Apocalypse keep me busy enough. You… you just happen to catch me at such a time where I can't… quite entertain.” Dominator tries to put on a winning smile. “Old habits, dear Esper, I'd not want to neglect my favorite, now would I?”

Esper is fixated with the mimi Dynamos. He did not seem to want to budge and more than that he once again did not seem convinced, not partaking in their usual easy back and forth banter at all. Finally, he turns his matching magenta hues onto the older man. The way his eyes peer into his shakes Dominator to his core, like he sees beyond this surface level.

Nervously, Dominator averts his gaze, afraid that might be the case and then smiles syrupy sweet to appease Esper. He reaches to pat his hair, “How's this then? You shall come back soon, and I will be free, then we will go on a little shopping trip together. I am running low on some things.”

Esper seems unconvinced still, but regards Dominator now as if considering his tempting offer.

Dominator sweetens it for him, literally, “We can shop for those cat-shaped milk chocolates from that particular store you like.” Surely he wouldn't be able to resist. He doesn't flinch when Esper narrows his eyes even more. He's no actor by any means, but he hopes his performance comes across as genuine enough.

But it must. Finally, the younger relents, an appeased smile lazing its way onto his lips and he slips closer to Dominator, he reaches up and smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, swipes off imaginary dust as if to tease. He smiles impishly, then counteroffers, “A whole pack of them and we have a deal.”

“Truly, I wonder who spoiled you rotten,” Dominator faux complains as if he weren't talking about himself, his smile sweet with affection as he rubs the top of Esper’s head again, savoring the contact and warmth once more.

And Esper welcomes the touch, stepping into Dominator’s space, grin growing larger for it. “Mmm, Dominator,” Esper calls, voice tinged with sleepiness as his eyes flutter with waves of drowsiness. “Wanted to ask…”

Though Esper fights sleep, Dominator takes note of that persistent tone. There was something more Esper wanted to breach and the scientist could only be so grateful by the sudden sleep spell that grips the other relentlessly. Humming, he regards Esper who goes from merely sleepy to struggling to stand and helps upright him at least. “You are quite drained,” he comments, mostly to himself as if he's detached suddenly, making clinical observations rather than seeking to comfort the other.

“Mmm… was a problem before, I— ” A rather loud yawn completes the tail end of his sentence, any lingering words lost as Esper begins to doze in a matter of seconds.

Dominator watches as the time traveler all but melts into his hold, sleep having claimed him. For a moment, he does nothing except simply regarding Esper as he sleeps. After a few moments and a couple of soft snores, he turns his gaze not to the room on his immediate left that holds the infamous napping spot, leading to his bed but rather he looks farther towards some of his holographic screens that wake from sleep and light up.

“Dynamo,” he calls.

Answering his summons, a few whirl over and make some high pitched beeping sounds, as if confused.

“Yes, we will proceed with the scan once more, I will return shortly for the results.”

Once Esper is bodily scanned, he makes quick strides for the bedroom and gently deposits him. He hurriedly brushes some hair back, takes one look, and, unlike before where he stayed, rushes back the way he came, greeting Dynamo again.

“Initially,” he calls for either Dynamo to come closer so he can read the data fed to him, “it was my horrible habit to hoard info, and I am glad I kept the numbers from the last time I saw him. I thought, perhaps there is no direct side effect… and perhaps, I was making lucky assumptions, but,” and Dominator pauses, opening a file dated for Esper’s last visit and the scan from today, side by side, “his mana levels are significantly lower, maybe even dangerously lower than before…”

He sits at his main workstation, “Originally, I assumed it was his space and time travels, but his mana decrease has direct correlations with,” and he turns his attention to the screen that shows the slightly larger Force Field he still has generating around the house, “this.”

There was no way Dominator could remove the Force Field. Though his unknown assailants never returned, he was now paranoid to leave the estate unguarded. And there was no simple way to explain any of this convoluted mess to Esper. Too many secrets, too much pain, for something that he wasn't even involved in and yet some part of him argued fiercely that, now that he was being affected negatively, he owed him that at least.

It seems as if he gradually recovered over time from the effects, however…

Dominator laughs dryly.

Here he was, doing everything he could to move forward, to cement his perfect present, to protect himself and what was left of their home and yet… he was still causing indirect harm to someone that he cares for deeply, that he finally let in, once more.

Dominator laughs again, a tired, exhausted thing that tapers off into weak little chuckles. The weariness of everything sinks deep to his bones, to his core, and he drops his head to folded arms on his desk.

A screen whirls to his side, displaying a dozing Esper, sound asleep.

With a resigned sigh, he lifts his head from his arms and watches.

“Dynamo, we have our work cut out for us. We must get this Force Field out of its infancy and into its final, perfected form. As it is now, it is inexcusable, weak, and…” His eyes narrow at the sleeping, presumably drained Esper. “Inefficient.”

He will not compromise, his plans must go on. And at the same time, he refuses to let this hurt Esper anymore than it has. He never meant to use Esper in this way, and it makes his skin crawl. But with these notions in mind, perhaps now he can be pushed to perfect this and bend it better to his will and then, maybe even start the early stages for the Zone… Already feeling inspiration, he turns his attention to some scattered files and data he’d nudged aside to some smaller window.

Sitting up now, with a thoughtful hand to his chin, he resists a sigh. “I should try to send you back in better straits,” he comments as if Esper can hear him with his back turned, through the holographic screens, “else he will lose his sanity, I suppose… That is, if he hasn't already torn his hair out over you.”

But when Dominator turns back to the screen, Esper is already gone.

===== → loading … :\\ destination found: 100% =====

This could not be happening, and yet it was, and Mastermind was losing his mind.

“Esper is gone!”

Mastermind should have seen this coming but he didn't.

Because, really, what hope was there to contain the Diabolic Esper from doing as he pleased?

Finally, Psyker strolls in the kitchen without a sense of urgency that only serves to further aggravate Mastermind. “Wha'?” He asks, confusion plain on his face, an eyebrow arched high as he asks, “what do you mean?”

“He's not here,” Mastermind explains, panic seeping into his voice, not a shred of patience as if he were explaining to a clueless child.

“Are you sure he didn't just… go out?”

“Well—no—but!” Mastermind huffs, clearly up in arms about this but Psyker looks calm as ever. “Did he say anything before leaving?”

Psyker pauses, not in a suspicious way, but in a way that makes Mastermind want to press. “Nah, he didn't.” Again, he pauses, not as if hiding something but rather because he's pondering something himself and he elects not to share. “He doesn't have to check in with us, ya know. We're not his babysitters. And if he ain't start before, why now?”

What Mastermind wants to do is stomp his foot like a child, turn and scoff because the one time Psyker is being soundly logical about something he doesn't want him to be! “I know that,” he hisses, “but given the past week, I thought… !”

“I said it once and I'll say it again, if Esper had anything to share, he'd do it.”

Now it's Mastermind's turn to pause, regarding the brawler shaking his head at him. “Why do you keep saying that. Unless,” he pauses once more, like he's weighing the invisible options in mind, “you really do know something and you're keeping it from me.”

Psyker looks outright offended and makes an undignified snort in response, a hand on his hip.

“Or you're just as clueless as me.”

“And you call me the idiot,” Psyker sighs, running a hand through those spiky locks of his. “If I knew anything, I wouldn't be sitting on my ass and doing nothing about it and you know it.” There's a beat of silence and then Psyker tacks on, against his better judgment, “Give me some credit, it's like ya don't trust me anymore.”

Mastermind had a whole lot to say until Psyker had said that.

“What? Nothin’ to say for once? That's rich.”

In the face of being direct, Mastermind finds silence the easier option but in the line of fire, of Psyker openly fighting with him, well, that's just not something Mastermind will ever take without retaliation. “What is the issue here? When did I ever say that?”

“You didn't need to say it,” Psyker practically sneers.

Now Mastermind is the one that's offended. A little too charged and heated, he demands, “And what does that mean?”

“I mean, Mastermind,” and Psyker invades the other’s space, visibly angry now, stepping closer and caging him. Psyker forces him back until he has nowhere to go, trapped between him and the kitchen counter, “stop insulting us both. You know better! You know we're in the same boat, on the same team, both worried for Esper, so stop insinuatin’ shit!”

For a moment, neither of them or say anything, the air between them is tense, stiff and heavy from Psyker’s lingering words.

Mastermind, for once, finds himself in a stunned stupor, truly speechless as he is unable to hide the flashes of emotions passing over his face: anger, frustration, hesitation, fear and then finally, pain warped by sadness.

All too quickly, the anger seems to drain from Psyker, and realizing how he’s crowded Mastermind, he relents finally. The emotions of everything makes him recoil back from further Mastermind. He awkwardly takes another step back. He rubs at his nape anxiously as he bows his head, refusing to look at Mastermind. “... I didn't mean t’—”

Mastermind, visibly shaken, lies, “It's fine.”

“Listen, Mastermind, I—”

An insistent beep disrupts Psyker’s thoughts and shakes Mastermind out of his daze.

The scientist fishes the tracking device from his pocket, holding it in his palm to see it light up. “Esper… ?!” And rather than see it, they hear Esper’s portal open outside the kitchen, then a loud thump.

Without saying anything else to Psyker, he rushes and slams open the back kitchen door and finds the man of the hour, nothing out of place other than looking utterly drained and struggling to take a few shaky steps, nearly toppling over as his Dynamo struggles, flailing about to steady him.

“Esper!”

Exhausted, Esper only manages a, “Your… lab…” to Mastermind before his lids fall shut, and he all but collapses on his Dynamo.

“Esper!?”

“He's… fine,” Psyker observes, “take him and go.”

Mastermind hesitates. Their fight? Whatever that was is still lingering heavy on his mind. But after seeing Psyker’s insistent stare, he knows now is not the time for that. After all, he supposes, they can fight later, if they must. That thought unsettles him. He tries now to show it since more pressing matters are at hand. He looks at the seemingly okay but exhausted Esper. “O-Okay… will you be joining as well?”

“I'll catch up, go on.”

Mastermind doesn't linger any more than he needs, and with Dynamo’s help, is off with Esper in tow.

As soon as the two are out of sight, Psyker waits a few moments to ensure both are truly gone. He clenches and unfurls his fists. Clenches and unfurls, clenches and unfurls. Then with a wail of frustration, he rapidly punches the wall of the house once, twice, and a third and final time before he relents and yells, a noise of pure raw aggravation. “Damnit!” He lets loose a fury of punches, again and again until he feels his knuckles bruise. When he feels the rush of anger finally leaving his body, he sees the gaping hole about fist-sized he left in their wall.

Great, as if he needed something else to take care of right now. As if he didn't already have a million things on his mind.

As if he didn't ache for Mastermind.

As if he didn't feel powerless to help Esper.

He takes a step back, hands on his hips, and he sighs. He pushes all those fears and worries to the backburner; his little repair project will have to wait too. Psyker has something more important to tend to now, after all.

===== → loading … loading … loading … :\\ destination … standby … … … =====

After all the tests are said and done, and Mastermind finally stops hovering over Esper, some hours have passed. Finally, Psyker enters the makeshift room beside the lab where Esper is resting.

“It ain't Mastermind, ‘s just me,” Psyker announces.

Or, well, pretend resting now that Esper knows it’s Psyker and not Mastermind back to nag at him again.

“He's been poking and prodding me all day,” Esper faux whines, clearly fine now.

“Yeah, well, you know what it's gonna take to ease his worries and satisfy him.” Psyker takes a seat at the stool near Esper’s bedside and folds his arms to his chest and sighs. Then, rather solemnly he adds, “He wasn't exactly here last time we ran our own tests, ya know.”

Esper says nothing to that.

But that's not what he's here for, so Psyker decides to cut right to it.

“You know why you're fainting and passing out, don't you?”

Esper especially says nothing to that. His silence is loud.

He doesn’t miss the way Esper’s hand’s clench the sheets between his legs either, his fists shaking and turning his knuckles white. Heaving another sigh, Psyker grumbles out, “I ain't gonna force you. I don't know what you're up to but I guess you're figuring it out and just don't have all the puzzle pieces yet. But don't risk yourself for it, we're here too you know. Just…” Psyker fishes for the words, brows knitted for a second before he sighs out his suggestion, “just clue us in real soon, okay?”

“Psyker…”

With something of a pout, Psyker reaches over and yanks at his ear, not to hurt but more to annoy than anything. “Ya better keep that promise, gotcha?”

Esper’s fake pained whines turn into pleased ones upon feeling Psyker’s fingers carding softly through his hair, moving to then gently pat his head.

Psyker glows inwardly to see Esper whole, well, and in one piece.

He just hopes that next he sees him that it will remain that way as well.

#my fanfiction #dominator (elsword)#diabolic esper (elsword)#mastermind (elsword)#lunatic psyker (elsword)#this one's not as long </3 #we've reached a low peak too #things will start to be mostly calm for now👀#dominator being sneaky as usual #DIE... you still haven't noticed things back at home yet huh

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