Tumgik
#Fix cracked engine block
Link
Due to heat generated, it is not possible to repair cracks and damage to cylinder heads, cylinder liners, and components made of aluminium or cast iron using the welding procedure. Generally, metal locking and metal stitching surgery may fix any heavy components made of aluminium casting. For more information on aluminium crack repair, repair of aluminium cast pistons, and cast iron or steel casting components call +91 9810012383 and email [email protected]
0 notes
hellfireclubmember · 1 month
Text
Don't Know Yet
a/n: just the beginning of a fanfic i'm working on. if any of u like it i will post the rest of this. i think it's cute enough to break my silence. good to be back friends
summary: you're moving in the middle of summer to a random town in the middle of nowhere with your father. a group of misfit wanderers take you in
Tumblr media
The door to your new house was painted a deep green, there were small chips running along the edges on the door where the hinges met the frame. Some of the old paint and even some wood peeked from the cracks. There were scratches on the copper of the mail slot from years of use. And you thought of all the mail that must’ve passed through the house over the years; simple advertisement from some markets in town or sleazy magazines the previous owners spent hours flipping through, or maybe even some love letters clumsily slipped through the small space on the door.
“Hey sweetheart, you wanna stop staring at the door and grab a box?” There were boxes covering the majority of your father’s face. They were stacked high in his arms. He walked toward the house, his oxfords looking very out of place on the dirt path onto the porch.
Without a second look at the door, you walked back to the car, where there were boxes stacked on a patch of grass. There were tiny blue flowers scattered amongst the green. The sun was beaming down at anyone brave enough to stand outside of the shade but there was a nice summer breeze. You grabbed a box with your name scribbled on it and walked inside the wooden home. It was a two-story house with a gorgeous wrap around porch.
“You should walk into town to grab some food for us.” Your father was walking back into the house with the last box. “It’s not very far.” He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped some sweat off of his forehead. His cheeks were a bright red shade which made you chuckle.
“Yeah, I wanted to go for a walk anyway.” You started you trek toward the small town which happened to be ten minutes on foot. Even with the short walk you could feel droplets of sweat running down your arms as they swung at your sides. The path you were walking was another dirt road, lined with big chinkapin oak trees. The thought of the bright green leaves many shades of orange made you excited for the fall. Whilst thinking of falling leaves you heard the engine of a vehicle approaching. Very loud music became louder and louder. When you turned to search for the source of the noise, you caught a glimpse of the prettiest boy you had ever seen. The sandy color of his hair almost matched the color of his freckles. His lips were a soft pink, and they were upturned in a knowing smile. His eyes were fixed on you when the van that had disturbed your peaceful walk blocked your view. The boy with the perfect hair got into the passenger seat.
“Who’s the babe?” Eddie, the driver, yelled out over the music to the pretty boy. The thought of lowering the music hadn’t occurred to him.
“Don’t know yet.” He looked out of the window as they drove by next to you. Steve stared at you until they turned the corner on their way to Bill’s.
56 notes · View notes
Text
The Road
Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues
Tumblr media
Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.
Please let me know what you think <3
🍫🍫🍫
The exhaust blows a cloud into the dark, the engine rumbling in wait as you toss your bag in the backseat with Birdy. She’s quiet, her eyes hooded as she can barely keep them open. She slumps against her own bag as Candy adds her to the heap on her other side.
You get in the driver’s side and fix the seat. Candy takes the passenger with a groggy grumble as she slides open the lid of the insulated cup. She gulps with a sigh and offers it wordlessly as you buckle up and check the mirrors. It’s going to be a long drive.
“Maybe we shouldn’t bother with all this business shit next time,” Candy yawns, “maybe something more… subtle.”
“Maybe,” you agree as you shift into drive, “Birdy, you doing alright back there?”
“Yeah,” her fluttery voice rises as she nestles against her duffel bag.
Silence overtakes the car as you set off. You steer slowly through the sleepy town, tension roiling in the tight space as you focus on the centerline of the road. The long drive isn’t the worst of it, it’s the snow that worries you most.
Candy chuckles and shifts in her seat. She shakes her head and takes another sip. You grip the wheel tight and peek over at her.
“What?”
“Oh, uh, just a stupid thought,” she rubs her cheek as he leans on the door, “reminds me of the girls’ trips I used to take back in the day. Wake up at the crack of dawn to drive up to some cottage or whatever.” She chortles again, “this one time, Lindsay, she took us to her hook-ups place and I guess he forgot to tell his wife he’d promised it to his sidepiece–”
You laugh and roll your eyes. You can’t judge. Before Bucky, you weren’t much different, dancing on tables and all. It really makes this all seem all the more surreal. How did you ever come to this?
“Had a boyfriend in college,” you start, talking as much to keep yourself awake as to calm your nerves, “fiance, actually… turns out, that was bullshit. He was already married with kids. He wasn’t even enrolled in the classes. He just lurked around to pick up girls.”
“Ewwww,” Candy exclaims, “oh, god, Coco bean, you really do attract the best types.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Birdy shuffles in the back and leans forward, “I only had one boyfriend before Steve,” she says, “but he was also my mom’s boyfriend.”
“What?” You nearly veer out as you turn your head sharply, “Birdy!”
“I… was young.”
“You’re still young,” Candy chides, “no judgment, baby girl, well, not with you. That man sounds nasty.”
“Oh, the nastiest. I don’t think there’s a single–”
You slam on the brakes as suddenly a cone of light shines across your path. The large truck rolls across the road and blocks the way. You swear and kick into reverse, making it only a foot before you stomp the brake again, a van appearing at your tail lights. Fuck.
“What the hell is this?” Your heart hammers in your chest, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Is it them?” Birdy whines, “Steve?”
“Fuck me,” Candy pops open the glovebox and takes out a thick club, “these fuckers aren’t getting it easy.”
“Shit,” you hit the wheel as your stomach curdles, “shit, shit!” Your panic swells to your throat. No, no, no! You can’t go back. You can’t. You’d rather die.
The truck opens and a figure jumps out, boots crunching the salt. You squint through the windshield as Candy grips her door and the club. You push yourself back into your seat as you gap at Bucky. No, it’s not him. It’s Nick.
“I knew it…” you murmur.
The van door slides open to your rear. You shift gears again and crank the wheel. You hit the gas. Fuck it. You crash into the side of the truck as Nick dodges out of the way. You push through, little by little until a deafening bang shatters the back window. You let off as Candy hisses and claps her arm.
“Fuck!” Candy squeezes her shoulder, “shit! They fuck–” she moves her hand just a little, a dark splotch spreading down her sleeve, “fuck, I’m shot.”
“Candy!” Birdy squeals and bends between the seats, “no!”
The back door opens and a figure looms in the dark, the yellow light of the headlights limning the angles as he grabs Birdy by the hair. She shrieks and cries out as she’s yanked back. You reach for her but he waggles his gun at you in warning. It’s the man from the cafe.
“Lloyd,” Birdy whimpers, “what are you–”
“Fucker,” Candy growls, her voice dwindling as she slouches forward, “she… she told him…”
“Birdy, did you–”
“I just wanted to say goodbye–”
“Shut up!” Lloyd snarls as he tears her across the seat.
The handle on your seat snaps back as someone tries to open it from the outside. Nick shatters the window with his elbow as you shield yourself with your arm. Candy’s door opens and her seatbelt clicks as the large shadow on her side untangles her limp body. She’s not moving anymore.
“Get–” you slap at Nick as he grabs at your seatbelt, “get away! Who the fuck– why the fuck are you doing this?”
“Shhh, baby, keep yourself under control and I won’t hurt you,” he lets the belt repel and grabs you by the front of your coat, “much.”
He hauls you out as you claw and kick. You hear Birdy sobbing and the heavy footfalls of the other man. You see Candy in his arms and you flail helplessly. It’s over. Someone’s finally come to claim their bounty.
128 notes · View notes
blubushie · 6 months
Text
So today, for a list of notes/shit I've gotta do to this ute to make it functional:
Tray rust: confirmed simple surface rust. Sandblast the rust off then put down bedliner.
Whatever dipshit painted the deep blue on there painted over the bevel. Gotta strip that off.
It has tow plug.
It has 1 original key, 1 spare, and 1 petrol key.
Manual choke.
Heater core needs to be flushed the bloke thinks. Might need replacing, says me. The latter's more likely.
Engine has not been tuned up since rebuild. Will need a tuning now that everything's settled.
It has new manifold gaskets on both sides, new flange gaskets on both sides, and dual exhaust.
Brake master cylinder has a booster—bloke thinks condition of master cylinder is because of shit coating that leaves the factory being the cause of them all rusting. "It's either shit metal or shit coating." I'm inclined to agree—every fucken one I've seen so far that didn't have a brand new—or painted—master cylinder is rusted to fuck. On the plus side the rust is just surface rust but I'm inclined to test that servo housing myself cuz I don't trust it.
Firewall looks good.
No water leaks, wipers are ok but probably need new pulleys.
Window rubber is tight and good, had a boot at one time.
HE HAS A SLIDE WINDOW SOMEWHERE HE CAN GIVE ME!! Probably the first thing I'm doing on this car is installing that fucken sliding window and my rifle rack.
Rear signals don't work because the pins/switches are mixed up, also horn doesn't work. Need to figure this out. If I can't do it maybe I can get that sparky down the block to have a squiz at it.
Engine sounds fucken incredible. 360 V8 with C6 tranny.
GVW is rated at 07500 so it'll hold Matilda.
Wheels are 16in 6ply.
2 petrol tanks, 20gal front & 25gal rear.
Fuel gauge doesn't work. Bloke has the new gauge ready, just hasn't installed it. Maybe there's a problem with the sending unit. Considering it doesn't work for either petrol tank I'm pretty sure it's not a float saturation problem.
Whatever dipshit installed the old manifold gaskets had the wrong size square which caused a leak (maybe F350?)—this is fixed now! She rides smooth.
Rust above windscreen rim causing improper seal along the drain rail—luckily it's not rusted through. Can be fixed but may need a plate welded on. I can do that myself.
Old BB holes in windscreen. I like them for their character but they're gonna crack the entire windscreen eventually, especially in the Australian heat as the windscreen warms. Need to replace windscreen.
One crack in dash around radio, dashboard is clean otherwise. I don't care about the crack but replace radio with an early 70s AM/FM with AUX jack.
ORIGINAL COLOUR IS PEACOCK BLUE WITH WHIMBELDON WHITE STRIPE! Restore to og paint because bloke wants me to. "I'm happy if it goes to someone who'll treat it well and make it look factory."
Passenger mirror is cloudy, needs a clean or possibly replacement.
Engine was rebuilt less that 3,000mi ago and has a 100,000mi warranty.
Bloke will get me a copy of the work order of all the work done to the ute—total of $12,000 for the work done.
"I know he did SOMETHING with the transmission." Tranny likely not rebuilt but WAS removed for alterations during engine rebuild.
Has hooks AND ringlets for turnbuckle attachment for camper.
Has rig mirrors.
Has reinforced tray springs. Has reinforced front, auxillary, and rear shocks.
No carpeting on interior. Get rubber mats I don't want blood in my carpet.
Get a seat cover so Misty doesn't ruin the vinyl.
Has manual steering and manual brakes. Get power disc brakes put in ASAP. I can do the power steering myself. In the meantime, maybe a suicide knob?
14 notes · View notes
idontknowreallywhy · 9 months
Text
Estera - Ch 25 - Cracks
The next one got super long so I’ve split it.
Scott’s rambling inner monologue again? Ah go on then. And there are Things that must be wrestled with…
And the important question of - is there anyone who is immune to the dimples?
(What went before)
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
“It’s not your job to keep me safe.”
The sudden rush of fury was almost intoxicating.
How dare she? He got this enough from his brothers. He’d thought she had understood but she couldn’t possibly understand. Not if she didn’t get it. If she didn’t see why he had to keep them safe. All of them. Her too. That if he couldn’t do that he wasn’t… he didn’t… How dare she! His gut twisted. They’d had such a good day and she had to go and…
An outburst of sharp, hurt-fuelled words rushed like magma towards the surface but was held at bay by his sudden need to focus on navigating a roundabout without getting them both killed. He slammed on the brakes less elegantly than he’d intended. Bloody weird British way of doing a junction.
He gave way to the van trundling towards them from the right and caught the eye of the driver who gave him A Look, probably related to his sudden stop a couple of feet past the give way line. But he was arrested by the memory of being on the receiving end of similar eyebrow artillery in a sumptuously decorated clinic in West London. It was in fact exactly The Look Patricia had given him the time he’d first told her Estera was alive. When he’d been… not quite… well… and had incoherently rambled about how good it he was that he had a second chance, that he could ensure he would get it right this time and she wouldn’t be in danger.
“Will that always be your raison d’être, Tracy?”
Well of course not. He had many raisons actually and not all of them were about looking after people. Just… maybe most.
She’d warned him about this, in her subtle way. And he thought he had been so careful, so Healthy about it all this time. Yet he’d reverted to type so quickly. Poor Estera had just joined the long roster of people he desperately needed to protect. To ‘smother’. Damn it.
He glanced over and saw she was biting her lip and worrying at the lid of the coffee cup again. The anger dissipated as quickly as it had arisen. He sighed heavily and the tension slumped from his shoulders. He didn’t want her to believe she couldn’t be honest about what she thought and if he was defensive and snappy… He took a breath and tried to be less… Scott Tracy… about it.
“You might not be wrong there” he cleared his throat a couple of times, without much success as there still seemed to be a blockage there. “It’s a… a thing. I’m guess I’m, err, working on it?”
“You don’t need to apologise. I’d just quite like to not see you nearly die quite so frequently.”
“I’ll see if I can arrange that.”
She smiled faintly then returned to looking troubled. “I’m sorry, I overstepped.”
“You didn’t. I’d rather know what you’re thinking.”
She huffed slightly.
“Honestly.”
The sat nav piped up that their destination was on the right and he pulled up outside what he guessed must be her apartment block.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Without the faint hum of the engine and the road noise the car suddenly seemed very quiet and Estera kicked herself for making things awkward. She didn’t want to leave things on a sour note and so she cast about for something to fix it before she said goodbye. He looked over at her and the flash of blue was a sudden reminder.
“Before you go, I actually have something for you. I know I missed your birthday…” he looked up in surprise “but it took a little while to… organise… and so I was planning to show you when we next met. But then of course today was a surprise so I didn’t have it with me.”
“Oh! You didn’t need to…”
“But I wanted to. It’s just upstairs.”
He seemed to hesitate.
“Bez is with my neighbours. I thought I’d be back much later what with the bus times and he’d have been lonely so, he’s, um not there.” She looked down at her hands “Or… or you can wait here and I’ll bring it down? That’s probably better. Save yourself the stairs, the lift’s broken again and it’s… I mean there’s nothing much to see, it’s a tiny apartment and probably a complete mess now I think of it. It’s not what you’d… There’s barely a bathtub let alone a pool…”
She was rambling again and had somehow failed to notice he had left the car until the passenger door opened and he was reaching down a chivalrous hand while doffing an imaginary cap with the other.
“I’m sure I can handle some stairs.”
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
“Ok, that WAS quite a lot of stairs”
They both paused at the top to catch their breath and laughed as she mock-glared at the cordoned off elevator door.
“It keeps me fit at least.”
She fished a bunch of keys from her pocket and waved happily at the elderly face which appeared at the window of the next apartment along. A series of hand gestures seemed to suggest she’d be round later. Ah, must be the dog-sitting neighbours. The gentleman shifted his gaze to Scott and narrowed his eyes. Scott countered with a friendly smile and a little salute which was met with a raised eyebrow and open scepticism. The face disappeared. O…Kay then…
“You get on well with your neighbours?”
“They’re a godsend. Such warm, lovely people. They rather adopted me when I arrived and they are absolutely wonderful with Bez.”
He was saved from the need to reply by her turning the lock and shoulder barging the door open.
“It gets a bit swollen in the damp weather. Should really get it seen to at some point.”
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Estera did a quick scan of the living room, immensely grateful that she’d cleared up last night’s dinner things and put away the laundry that had been drying on the radiators.
Everything suddenly felt very… small.
“So… I guess you know where I live now.”
He smiled wryly. “I can try to forget how we got here if you like?”
She looked around and cringed as an image of her apartment on that ridiculous day briefly intruded and overlaid the present… all her moveable furniture and pretty much everything else she owned piled up against the inside of the front door, Bez frantically begging for a walk while she’d huddled in the corner of her bedroom wearing all of her clothes at once, desperately trying and failing to banish the chill from her bones. The poor creature had ended up peeing on the kitchen floor and he’d looked so forlorn about it. And the messages… she shivered. Not her finest hour.
“I really am sorry about all that.”
“Don’t worry, all forgotten”
“Is it? I haven’t. I wasn’t…”
“It’s fine, honestly.”
“No, it’s not. Please… let me say this?”
He inclined his head and she took a deep breath and did her best to look him in the eye, the intensity in the blue so familiar yet so incredibly unsettling.
“I wasn’t fair. Or kind. And you had been nothing but both. I have no excuse. I just… it was as though my logical mind shut down and all I could think was I was a fool for believing you’d ever just be… nice.” She couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and dropped her eyes to where he was rolling the car fob over his knuckles. “To me. After… after what I did to you. And so I extrapolated too quickly and panicked and… and it got way out of hand. I’m sorry.”
The fob stopped moving.
“You didn’t do anything to me.”
“I… yeah, ok. Of course. Um, do you want a coffee?”
She dropped her bag on the counter and busied herself picking the best mugs and the good coffee from the cupboard.
“Estera? Please look at me.”
She stared at the kettle on the worktop to his right, unable to lift her eyes any further.
He crouched down and put his face in her eye-line. Blue shone earnestly up at her and blurred almost immediately. She blinked, cross with herself.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
She bit her lip hard as her tear ducts betrayed her and she closed her eyes as if that could stop the hollow-sounding splatter onto the packet of coffee beans she was clutching. He took it from her and she clenched her shaking fists.
“Do you want a hug?”
She shook her head vigorously. And then paused, took a shuddering breath and nodded, eyes still screwed shut.
She couldn’t control the flinch as his arms surrounded her gently and he rested his head lightly on top of her own. Unable to contain all of the Everything any longer she buried her face in his shirt and sobbed.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
27 notes · View notes
tachimichishrine · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
"𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍… 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝…"
⋰ ▫ ⊰ 𝐢𝐨 ⨟ she/her ⨟ 18, mech eng student ⨟ bsd+more ⊱ ▫ ⋱
⇢ inbox: always open! im practically begging for thirsts/ravings + feel free to drop your asks ♡ ⇢ submissions: if it's tachi-related, give 👹 it 👹 to 👹 me 👹 ⇢ interactions/mutuals: I'll interact w anyone! as for mutuals,,, this is a side blog so lowkey idk how that works (o ﹏ o *) BUT !!! drop in my dms or inbox anytime and I'll be happy to yap abt just about anything !!!!
▣ i write for the characters that need more attention (i'm mentally insane for them) (mostly tachihara content ngl) (super duper mentally insane just for him) ▣ please block the tags that make you uncomfortable before you interact ▣ no 'about me' section. if you have questions ask me yourself cowards. only thing you should know is that im impossibly sexy, have rabies, swear a lot and love my silly guy tachihara michizou
{{ i'm working on it... ▫◈▫ navigation tags ▫◈▫ masterlist (below!!) }}
Tumblr media
※ = mdni+nsfw!!, ⁛ = partial nsfw, only at the end ↪ pls keep in mind I (almost always) write femdom smut!!! bc to me, they're all subs...
TACHIHARA MICHIZOU
𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬
never enough ※ bodyguard!tachihara x fem!reader sap ※ tachihara x hirotsu's daughter!reader mornings and marriage ※ tachihara x fem!reader blown away tachihara x fem!chem eng!reader first time ※ {part 1 ; part 2; part 3} virgin!tachihara x fem!reader just a coffee ※ fem!waitress!tachihara x fem!reader by the fireplace ※ christmas special! mastermind tachihara x fem!chuuya's subordinate!reader impatient tachihara x jouno's sister!reader
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 // 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬
scream for me ⁛ ghostface trend! mistletoe confession
H.P. LOVECRAFT
the cat came back lovecraft x natsume's daughter!reader
MARK TWAIN
just one night ※ stripper!twain x fem!reader
MARGARET MITCHELL
reputation ※ sugarbaby!margaret x fem!reader
KAJII MOTOJIRO
when life gives you bombs kajii x fem!engineer!reader
HIGUCHI ICHIYO
housewife higuchi x wife!reader
DAZAI OSAMU
broken and fixed again ⁛ hospital AU!
JOUNO SAIGIKU
sweet and sour crime executive!jouno x gn!reader
BRAM STOKER
ride me bottomless(???)!bram x gn!reader, crack hcs
VARIOUS
hunting dogs highschool hcs, not xreader
decay of angels highschool hcs, not xreader
Tumblr media
43 notes · View notes
foone · 2 years
Text
You know how sometimes you've got a car that barely works? Like you got it from your uncle who is a fireman in Connecticut so he has a bunch of spare cars, and you can't complain because it was free, but it's an 80s junker with a cracked engine block so it just leaks oil and gas and if you drive it for longer than half an hour, it'll overheat? But your college is 45 minutes away so you gotta leave extra early, stop along the way, then park and wait for it to cool down? And if you had the money you'd replace it in a heartbeat but you just don't, so it'll have to get you there?
Or your computer works but you're nearly out of disk space and your graphics card keeps crashing the whole system so you can't play any games that aren't 2D. So you have to keep uninstalling stuff to keep going, and sometimes they won't reinstall afterwards? But you keep lurching forward because you can't fix the problem now.
Or your phone is on its last legs. The GPS won't work. The battery barely stays topped up and you're charging it every time you can. A lot of apps just won't install and the screen has burn in. But it will have to do for now.
That's how my brain feels today. It isn't working, but it's the best I've got, so I'll have to make do for now.
168 notes · View notes
tawaifeddiediaz · 2 years
Text
love like (the sweetest) chocolate
for @deareddie​ and inspired by this reddit post
[AO3 Link]
Word Count: 3728 words
Buck has a problem.
And that is…he doesn’t like peanut butter.
Buck scowls at the bowls of candy artfully set out, his fingers twitching in his jacket as he catches sight of the peanut M&Ms. 
“That is a low blow,” he hisses to Eddie, who slots into place in the adjacent seat with the most confused expression Buck has ever seen on him. “The lowest blow that can ever be blown.”
“What is?” Eddie hums, his tongue darting out to fiddle with an artificial fang, and Buck promptly forgets his trail of thought in favor of tracing the spit-slick line of his mouth.
Eddie is, thankfully, oblivious to Buck’s staring, still craning his neck to find out exactly what Buck’s pissed about. Buck doesn’t think even he remembers, too distracted by the sight in front of him.
He curls his hands tight in the pockets of his slacks, gaze drifting down to take in the rest of his best friend’s costume.
Eddie’s dressed as a vampire for the station Halloween party, a long flowing cape trailing behind him, draped over his seat. The collar is ostentatiously tall, jutting up from his shoulders to nearly the top of his ears, and it annoys Buck because it’s partially blocking his view of Eddie’s face.
Underneath, Eddie’s donned a tight black dress shirt, the top three buttons obscenely undone below the knot of the cape, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a maroon waistcoat that molds to every last line of his body. And because the universe hates Buck, he’s in the skinniest pair of black pants that Buck’s ever seen, curving over thick thighs and a tight ass.
His only saving grace is the cape, because it stops his eyes from being glued to Eddie’s ass all night, but he still hasn’t been able to look away from the man since he walked in behind a mini-Indiana Jones.
Right now, though, his gaze drifts right back to the table in the center of the engine bay where Ravi and Karen are setting out plates and bowls of snacks for people to munch on as they mingle, his forgotten thought pushing to the forefront of his mind.
The peanut M&Ms mock him.
Eddie catches his drift as he follows the direction of Buck’s glower, and he just laughs, his arm slinging over Buck’s shoulder to tug him out of the chair. “Oh, come on, it’s your fault for lying to everyone. These are the consequences.”
Buck follows Eddie automatically, the lean lines of his body pressed into Buck’s like perfect puzzle pieces. They shouldn’t be able to walk as smoothly as they are, but somehow it works, even with Eddie’s arm across the line of Buck’s shoulders. 
“No, it’s not, it’s everyone’s fault for being so fucking weird about peanut butter,” Buck complains back, trailing off before they join Karen and Ravi. Eddie lets go of Buck — regrettably — to help Karen with the plates, while Buck trails behind, trying so fucking hard not to look at the peanut M&Ms.
Ravi catches him looking anyway, but mistakes his glance for something else. “Oh, sorry, Buck, I forgot you were allergic. I can go put these inside.”
“I’m not,” Buck says absently, grabbing a bunch of pretzels instead, pretending their crunch was the sweet crunch of the chocolate shell cracking into the roasted peanut, the perfect blend of sweet and savory.
Karen pauses in her conversation with Eddie to fix him with a confused look, clearly listening in. “What? I thought you were deathly allergic.”
And she thinks this because Buck refused to eat her famous peanut butter brownies once under the guise of the lie, because the scent of peanut butter doesn’t sit well with him, but neither does the disappointment on his friend’s face.
Buck stammers and scrambles for an answer, his best friend no help at all where he’s beaming over Karen’s shoulder, those fangs making that smile more dangerous than usual. “N-no, I am allergic, but not deathly. As long as I don’t eat it, I’m fine. No cross-contamination here.”
Karen nods slowly, distracted when Bobby calls her upstairs, but Ravi stands there with narrowed eyes, head cocked like he’s figuring something out.
Buck sincerely hopes he doesn’t.
“What?” Buck says, popping another handful of pretzels in his mouth. He wishes they were at least the chocolate covered ones so he could pretend that they were his favourite chocolate. 
Eddie’s low laughter filters through Buck’s ears, and he turns to glower at him. Feeling spiteful, he steals the chocolate chip cookie out of Eddie’s hands, taking an aggressive bite and stomping off before Ravi can actually figure out that he’s lying.
Buck was in third grade when the first whiff of peanut butter made him nauseous enough to throw up in the toy bin. One of his classmates had opened a packet of peanut butter crackers, and the smell of it had reached Buck all the way across the room.
His teacher had been nice about it, even if some of the kids hadn’t, but she’d explained it to everyone, instantly shutting them up.
“Evan might have an allergy that we don’t know about, okay? It’s not nice to make fun of people for it, but even if he doesn’t have an allergy, some people just don’t like certain smells or foods,” she’d said, in her kind, gentle voice.
His parents had taken him to the allergist, even though they were downright confused about it, because Buck used to eat peanut products all the time. Not peanut butter, because he’d always hated it, but chocolate and ice cream with peanut pieces in it.
Just as they suspected, Buck hadn’t been allergic to peanuts at all — he just hated the smell of peanut butter.
He’d tried explaining it to a few people, only to hear various versions of why he should love peanut butter in return. The defensiveness had been just plain annoying, so he’d switched tactics, thinking it was much better for people to be overly cautious of peanuts around him altogether.
Buck hadn’t even known what an allergy was but he’d taken that one sentence and run with it because it sounded like an important enough excuse to get people to stop defending it in front of him.
Twenty-three years later, he still tells people that he’s allergic to peanuts, just to avoid peanut butter-related debates.
The problem, though, lies within the cerulean bowl that Eddie’s picked up, no doubt to take upstairs and hide.
Buck loves peanut M&Ms. 
He doesn’t even know why he loves them so much, but it’s the only candy he ever eats during movies, the only chocolate he refuses to share with anyone. Something about the thin layer of chocolate covering the crunchy peanut sends a shot of serotonin straight to Buck’s brain.
Maybe they’re his guilty pleasure or something.
There’s no real reason for him hating most other peanut products other than the fact that peanut oil kind of makes him want to hurl, but right now, all Buck can think about is how much he wants a handful of those M&Ms. 
Christopher coming to stand next to him distracts him enough that he can tear his eyes away from the bowl, and subsequently, the man standing behind it with a larger-than-life smirk on his face as he makes his way to the stairs, his cape flaring dramatically behind him with each step.
“The M&Ms?” Chris asks knowingly, as the sole other confidant in this deception of his, barring Maddie. They’ve watched too many movies together for Buck to hide it from the Diaz boys.
Buck glances down at him. “Yeah, Indiana Jones, the M&Ms.”
“Want me to sneak you a handful?” 
Buck can’t help it then — he laughs loudly at the eager enthusiasm in Christopher’s voice. “Pretty sure I'm not supposed to be encouraging peanut-M&M-related smuggling. But thanks for offering.” 
Chris shrugs, entirely unsympathetic as he cracks the fake whip towards the ground, looking slightly off-put by the thought of not pulling off the peanut heist. “Shouldn’t have lied, then.”
He lopes past him without a second glance, meeting up with Denny to do whatever it is new teenagers do at these parties, but Buck gapes after him. There was a time where Chris would’ve stayed at his side during these parties, or asked to be put on his shoulders so he would be super tall.
“Your kid is a menace,” he tells Eddie when the man joins him again.
Eddie whooshes out a breath but laughs as he catches sight of his son. “I think he’s being the teenager I wanted to be, and I have no idea how to deal with that.”
“That sass is 100% Diaz,” Buck agrees, hearing the fondness in his voice loud and clear. “Pretty sure he just offered to commit a robbery for me.” 
Eddie shakes his head, beaming with pride despite the illegal notion of the act, and turns to give him a soft smile just before it turns into something gently teasing as he gestures to the spot where the M&M bowl once was. “Well he can try, but see? The temptation is gone.”
He’s not thinking about chocolate anymore.
Buck’s smile fades as he looks across the inches between them, across the handsome planes of Eddie’s face, made gorgeous by the heart inside him. Even the stupid fangs can’t distract him from his gaze flickering down to Eddie’s mouth, where the greatest temptation of all rests.
Not the time or place, Buckley .
He doesn’t want to do this while he’s dressed in this fae costume, temporary tattoos scrolling down the side of his neck to disappear into the soft tunic beneath fake, malleable armor. Costume points cap his real ears to look like those of fae, and he’s even got his hair spray-painted a silvery white to fit the part of an old fae warrior.
Sure, they look great — unlike last year’s party, where Buck was Mr. Potato Head, and Eddie was a hot rockstar — but if they’re going to do this, then he wants the first time they kiss to be when they’re them . When they’re Buck and Eddie, with all the pretenses stripped away between them — even if it’s something as silly as a fucking Halloween costume.
And somewhere where everyone isn’t looking on.
“Buck?”
Eddie’s voice, slightly amused, startles him out of his thoughts.
Buck clears his throats and tears his eyes away from the man who tempts every carnal desire he’s ever had.
Suddenly, the M&Ms don’t even feel like a blip on the radar.
------
Eddie sends Christopher off to bed as soon as they get home, a stern look in place when Chris tries to push bedtime.
Chris looks to Buck as if he could somehow get Eddie to extend his bedtime, but Buck shrugs apologetically behind Eddie. He’s all for hanging out with his favourite kid, but he knows he has to stand with Eddie in this.
“Damn, Diaz, never thought I’d see the day,” Buck teases, pulling the fake costume ears off. 
Eddie grimaces as he tugs the fangs out of his mouth, making a face as he lets them fall in the kitchen sink, immediately turning the water on. “Neither did I. But I think I’ve got it down pat.”
He hadn’t had to use a single word, so Buck thinks so, too.
“You managed to stick to your guns, too,” Eddie adds, turning to pin him in place with a raised eyebrow. Buck doesn’t even know why he or Chris try anymore — Eddie has had eyes at the back of his head ever since they pranked him with that Hildy-run coffee maker.
He remembers the M&Ms again and sighs loudly. “This lie is costing me my whole life.”
Eddie laughs again, somehow looking even more gorgeous without the stupid fangs. His own canines scrape idly across one side of his mouth as he nods, a smile still curving his mouth, and Buck finds himself hyper-fixated on the movement. “You’re still on about that? We could’ve stopped at a 7-Eleven for you to get your fix.”
Buck snorts. “You make it sound like I snort peanut M&Ms for a high.”
“The way you were looking at them tonight?” Eddie raises his eyebrows as he leans back against the sink. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit. Though I’d be concerned if you were snorting them at the back of a 7-Eleven.”
Buck glares at him for a minute before he loses the energy to, slumping back against the kitchen table to perch on the edge. “I wish I could.”
Eddie studies him for a second, then sighs, turning towards the far cabinet. Buck watches as he pulls a small bowl out, setting it on the table behind Buck before he reaches back into his cape, where there are apparently pockets, to pull out a balled up napkin.
Not just any napkin.
Buck watches wide-eyed as Eddie opens the bunched-up layers to reveal a handful of colorful chocolate, their shape strikingly familiar to the same ones Buck was just lamenting about.
A napkin full of peanut M&Ms. 
“Eddie, what—”
It doesn’t stop there.
Two more bundles of candy come out of his pants pockets, another one out of the cape, and four more out of the deep pockets of his waistcoat. Each of them is carefully twisted at the top to keep the candy safe.
Sheepishly, Eddie lays them out on the kitchen table, carefully tipping each of the napkin-bundles of candy into a bowl. Buck watches him do this methodically, leaning down to transfer the candy in the same way Buck sees him take care with literally everything else. He’s focused on just his task, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he concentrates.
Eddie doesn’t even like peanut M&Ms that much.
Buck’s struck in the chest with the burning urge to tug Eddie’s bottom lip out of the hold of his teeth and between his own, to kiss the breath out of his lungs until they’re both dizzy with it.
He only barely manages to refrain.
When he’s done, there’s a whole bowl full of Buck’s favorite chocolate in the world sitting on the table, stacked into a high peak of them. Some of them are smushed, a few with the chocolate shell cracked. The napkins lay crumpled, forgotten with smudges of melted color on them as Eddie makes awkward jazz hands at the bowl of candy.
“Ta-da,” he says lamely, picking nervously at a loose thread on his pants as he steps back.
Buck’s still rooted in place as he looks at the gesture. 
“Eddie,” he breathes out.
“You looked like you were in actual pain from not being able to eat them so…” Eddie explains quietly, gesturing grandly again. “There you go.”
Eddie stole peanut M&Ms from the station’s Halloween party for him .
Buck turns his attention back to the only temptation he’s never indulged in — the one man who makes him better . Who listens to even the most superficial things about Buck, and doesn’t think any quirks of his to be frivolous. 
Including the M&Ms.
As if Buck wasn’t overwhelmed enough, Eddie turns to open the far cabinet again, reaching behind the colorful stack of cereal bowls to pull out a box of those gross health-nut bars that Eddie eats the days he forgets breakfast. 
Inside the box aren’t those stupid protein bars. Instead, there are stacks of yellow packets of peanut M&Ms, clearly kept there to hide them from little, teenager eyes — clearly having been stocked up for a while.
“Christopher gets an insane sugar rush from these, even though he’s past the age where he gets sugar rushes and I’m not really sure what it is about these specific M&Ms that make him bounce off the walls, but anyway…I keep them in here. They’re for you,” Eddie explains. He’s fiddling with the box again, his foot tapping nervously against the floor. “So you don’t actually have to go to 7-Eleven to get your fix.”
If Buck thought he was overwhelmed before, it’s nothing compared to the lightning strike of realization that hits him — Eddie loves him.
He’s always loved him, even when Buck was too blind to see it. And maybe this isn’t a realization he’s having over fucking peanut M&Ms of all things, but a culmination of all the small things that led them to this insane moment in Eddie’s kitchen, standing here in truly ridiculous costumes as they look at each other across the space between them.
Maybe there haven’t been any pretenses between them in a long time, and maybe this is exactly how they’re meant to get together — in the heart of Eddie’s home, with all these realizations unfolding around Buck.
With him falling in love with Eddie all over again.
There’s the mug that belongs to Buck drying in the dishrack, the frog-shaped soap dispenser Buck had bought for Eddie as a joke but still somehow lives on the sink, the coffee maker that Eddie made Buck disable Hildy from before he started using, the cereal that only Buck eats sitting on top of the fridge, the cream cheese Eddie loves but only started buying because Buck lied to him about liking, too. The book that sits on the coffee table, a bookmark hastily shoved in the middle as if Buck’s ever come back to it since the last time he opened it.
And the M&Ms of course.
Every single part of their lives is tangled almost irreversibly, to the point where Buck thinks that if someone were to tear Eddie away from him, they’d take all of Buck with him, too.
Buck stops holding back.
He slowly takes the box out of Eddie’s hands, setting it down on the counter without a second glance.
“You know, there’s this other thing I’ve been telling myself.”
Eddie hums, low and soft. “Yeah?”
Buck nods slowly, gauging Eddie’s reaction with every step he takes. “Yeah, it’s that it’s impossible to find someone that knows me inside and out, no matter how stupid those things are about me. It’s impossible to find someone that loves all of those things. But that’s not true either, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” Eddie says quietly. His voice is barely above a whisper, but he’s confident, secure in the knowledge of how he feels — for Buck, of all people.
He’d been settling for less and less, thinking that maybe they would grow into each other, that maybe this is what love is but Buck doesn’t want to do that anymore. Not when he has the man who’s loved him unconditionally standing in front of him, without any expectations.
Time stretches between them, slow and syrupy, and Buck takes in every last detail on Eddie’s face — the small smile flitting across his mouth, the ruffled hair, the warm eyes Buck has built home in, the anticipation slowing their breathing down.
Buck kisses him.
Eddie kisses him back.
He twines his fingers into Buck’s hair and tugs, keeping him where he wants him, and Buck fucking melts right into him, chest to chest, toe to toe. Eddie’s hand winds past his neck to cradle his jaw as they kiss and kiss and kiss. Buck licks the taste of home from Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie leaves his mark on Buck’s.
The kiss ignites every bit of yearning Buck’s ever felt for the man he’s gone pliant for, leaving him drowning in the sensation of finally having what he’s wanted for so long. Desire hums between them, but despite that, there’s a comfort in the knowledge that this is where they are — in the middle of Eddie’s kitchen, exchanging slow, soft kisses where they’ve spent countless days and nights with each other.
It feels right .
Eddie pulls away from him slowly, tipping their foreheads together. Buck inhales the familiar scent of his cologne, his fingers trailing down Eddie’s face to ghost over the smattering of hair visible in the open collar of his dress shirt, down the fine lines of his torso to hook in his belt loops.
Eddie’s hands trace patterns on Buck’s tunic, now free of the plastic armor he’d thrown on for the party. Buck leans into the steady comfort of the action just before Eddie hums again, reaching behind Buck to pick up the bowl.
“You know, I spent the whole party stealing these for you. The least you could do is actually eat them,” he teases gently.
“All this after I stopped Chris from committing a chocolate-level crime. Should’ve been watching you, instead,” Buck scoffs and grabs a handful, popping one into his mouth as he holds another out for Eddie. “I was too busy kissing you to eat them.”
Eddie’s gaze softens at the reminder, unguarded in a way that takes Buck’s breath away.
He sets the chocolate bowl down again, looking Eddie in the eye. “Thank you.”
“For committing a chocolate-level crime?” Eddie's eyebrow quirks up as he smiles teasingly.
Buck rolls his eyes. “No, dumbass, for loving me.” His tone quiets. “For paying attention to even the smallest things about me.”
“I love you for a lot of things, but for all of those things, you know,” Eddie tells him, one hand falling to the back of Buck’s head. “Like when you lie about liking chive and onion cream cheese just because I like it.”
“It’s not that bad,” Buck protests, but he knows he’s been caught out.
Eddie pulls him into a searing kiss, lips mapping continents and stories across Buck’s skin. “I love you, Buck. Even if you like peanut M&Ms more than normal, and you hate peanut butter, and you only drink out of one mug, and you lie about fucking cream cheese. Maybe I love you because of those things, but...all I know is that I do. Love you, I mean.”
“You sap,” Buck chokes out. “I love you, too.”
He doesn’t ponder on the lack of eloquence in his answer, tugging Eddie closer until he can kiss him again, the taste of him so much richer than the taste of the finest chocolate in the world.
This time, Buck swears that the chocolate tastes sweeter.
212 notes · View notes
jahayla-parker · 1 year
Text
Bewitched Love : Peter Parker x Reader
Part 9
Bewitched Love Series Navigation
Tumblr media
Desc. & Warnings: 1.5k wc, see navigation for description and warnings
Tumblr media
Recap:
“Please, I know you’ll know how to handle this multiverse thing if something goes wrong. I need you away from the fight,” Peter pleaded, staring deeply into her blue eyes.
Y/n sighed. His pleading gaze was hard to resist and ignore, but she had to. “Peter, no. I can sense their energies and I’m not leaving you,” y/n said, eyes zoned in on Osborn. “You can waste time arguing, but I’m coming to help,” she said defiantly.
Peter sighed but nodded reluctantly. “Fine, but if something happens, you go to MJ and Ned to help them with the box. Okay?”
Y/n nodded in agreement to the proposed compromise.
Tumblr media
Y/n watched as each of the villains made themselves at home in Happy’s condo. Once they seemed settled, she grabbed Peter’s notebook and pen from the kitchen table. Walking to the kitchen counter, she threw the notebook down and began scribbling down various thoughts on how to fix each problem.
Peter smiled in y/n’s direction before turning to May. He wanted to ask her to leave, but he suspected her reaction would be similar to y/n’s when he’d asked her. Before he could decide how to bring it up, Otto started loudly pacing around the apartment.
“So this is your plan, Peter?” Otto scoffed. “Mmm? No lab, no facilities, just performing miracles in a condominium?” He sighed. “What, you're gonna cook up some cures, some frozen burritos in a microwave?”
Y/n glared over her shoulder at Otto, making Peter feel better about the insult.
Osborn mumbled that he “could go for a burrito”, making Otto even more frustrated. Otto groaned, eyeing Peter up and down. “He's gonna kill us all,” he hissed.
Peter bit his lip anxiously, looking over at y/n. Seeing she shared Peter's apprehension, he took a deep breath. “Well, let's hope not,” Peter said in an attempt to break the tension. “You're up first, Doc,” he encouraged, heading to the attached room.
Otto shot a glare in Peter’s direction. “What?” He raised his voice as Peter continued to head to the other room. “Hey, I told you. I don't need fixing. I don't need fixing! Especially by a teenager using scraps from a bachelor's junk drawer.”
Y/n shot Otto a defensive and irritated look, making May smile softly. Before y/n could comment for Otto to be more respectful to Peter, Electro walked over. She noticed the deep interest he had in seeing inside the other room.
Max looked at y/n and smirked before looking back at the doorway leading to the attached room. “No, no, no, no. He got something back there. I can feel it. Weird energy...” he said excitedly.
Y/n grabbed the notebook, quickly slipping past Electro to get to Peter first. She smiled softly in greeting when Peter turned to her as she entered. Y/n joined Peter beside a covered rectangular box-like object. Even before he removed the sheet to reveal the elaborate device and its logo, y/n could feel the Stark Tech energy flowing through it.
Osborn had followed y/n in to the second room. He walked closer to the kids with a frown. “What the hell is that?” He asked.
While y/n watched Osborn closely, Peter answered him respectfully. “It's a fabricator,” He told him, pressing the button to unfold the device. Peter grinned as the box opened up into a small engineering lab. “It can analyze, design, construct... basically anything,” he explained, glancing at y/n to see if she remembered the one from the plane.
Y/n felt Peter’s gaze and smiled warmly at him. She nodded in silent acknowledgement that she recalled the device.
May laughed lightly. “I thought that was the tanning bed Happy broke,” she admitted.
Suddenly Electro’s eyes flashed yellow again. “Look at that,” Max smirked, his eyes staring intently at the arc reactor on the device.
Y/n shifted her body slightly to block Max from moving closer to the device. Y/n winced as the wall connected to the kitchen cracked due to the expansive size of the unboxed machine now pushing against it. She heard Otto shout once again that he was worried Peter would kill them all.
Y/n rolled her eyes, leaning down to where Peter was sitting as he started working on the device. “You’ve got this one right Peter?” She whispered into his ear, watching him start his work. Y/n smiled as Peter blushed from the closeness and nodded. “Mmm, great, I’ll get started on Electro”.
Tumblr media
Peter licked his lips as he focused on the chip he was designing. “So, the chip in the back of Doc's neck was designed to protect his brain from the A.I. system that's controlling these tentacles,” he explained to Osborn who was standing beside him. Peter knew y/n wasn’t a fan of leaning Osborn in the same room with Peter while she was in the other room. So, he figured if he kept talking, it would keep Osborn interested and focused on the future where he would be fixed, and also would soothe Y/N’s worries since she could hear him through the now-cracked wall.
“But if you look here... The chip is fried. So rather than him being in control of the tentacles, the tentacles are now in control of him. Which, I guess explains why... he is so miserable all the time,” Peter explained, his tongue stuck between his lips as he concentrated on the intricate details of the chip.
Tumblr media
As y/n was working in the programming to help Electro, May tried to keep the others occupied. She walked up to Otto and offered him a glass of water, “thirsty?”.
Otto hummed hesitantly. “Well, yes. I am thirsty”.
Y/n continued rapidly typing the programming for Max's solution but watched May and Otto's interaction from her periphery. She had to stifle a laugh as May asked if Otto wanted fresh water or salt. However, when May awkwardly explained the reason she asked was because Otto was an octopus, y/n snorted. She quickly covered her mouth but could hear Peter chuckling from the other room over her reaction.
Otto frowned, looking between May and y/n. “What?”
May paused to ensure she kept her composure. “Fresh water it is,” she nodded.
As he waited for y/n to finish whatever she was doing on Peter’s laptop, Electro stared out the window at the city. “Look at this place. And all the possibilities,” he said dazedly.
Flint placed the framed photo he was examining back down. “What? This condo?” he asked, facing Max.
Max laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, the condo. I love the whole floor plan,” he said sarcastically. “No, man. I'm talking about the world,” Max clarified, stroking his beard. “I kinda like who I am here,” he nodded.
Y/n lifted her eyes off the programming code on Peter’s laptop to analyze Max. She could sense something was off. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to find out what caused that sensation.
Max looked back at where Peter was. “And all that power back there... I could be so much more,” he hummed. “So why did you come here?” Max asked, shaking his head before turning back towards Flint.
Y/n continued her programming but listened to Flint and Max’s conversation. Mostly so that she could catch any potential signs that Electro was going to resist the solution she was working on. However, she also suspected it might help to know more about them; and hopefully, tailor the solutions even more to the specific problem or cause of their conditions.
Tumblr media
Peter rushed back to the main part of the apartment. He proudly held up the neutral inhibitor chip device. Peter smiled at May and Y/N’s attentive gazes. “I got it. I did it. I did it,” he exclaimed.
Peter pointed to the handheld device that was connected to Otto’s metal tentacles. “May, will you send him up?” he requested, running to the staircase.
Once Doctor Octopus was at Peter's level on the mezzanine, May set the device down.
“Oh, will all these humiliations never cease?!” Otto complained, making Peter apologize quietly. “You!” Otto shouted, noticing Peter had moved closer in order to fix him. “Keep your science fair project away from me!”
Y/n rolled her eyes. She watched as Peter slowly moved the chip closer to Otto. Y/n nearly gave herself whiplash when she heard Osborn speak nicely on Peter’s behalf.
“Hey, it will work. Have faith,” Osborn assured Otto.
“Says the reckless fool who turned himself into a monster,” Otto argued rudely.
Y/n watched as Osborn went silent. She could sense his offense and sadness. Evidently what Otto said was true, whatever happened to Osborn had been done by Osborn himself. While this was true of most of the villains she and Peter were working on, this was different.
Osborn had a darkness to him that the others didn’t. He had some corrupted cosmic energy inside him now, and seemingly he’d done that himself. Y/n didn’t know if that was intentional or a known risk of whatever he was trying to do when he became the villain he was. But, she knew it meant there was a chance that Osborn had knowingly inflicted himself with the darkness; only increasing her fears that his cosmic split wouldn’t last and one side would take over.
Peter’s voice drew y/n’s attention back to the current moment. “Please stop. Hold still,” he pleaded.
Otto shook his head. “Don't you dare!”
He squirmed in a desperate attempt to avoid Peter’s corrected chip. "I swear... when I get out of this, we're gonna rip you a...”
Peter’s eyes widened as Otto went silent and limp upon the chip being inserted. “Doc?” He whispered. “Doc?” Peter asked again, his worried eyes looking at y/n for help. When she gave him a reassuring look, he tried again. “Doc? Doctor Octa-“ Peter panicked.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bewitched Love Series Navigation
Peter Parker Navigation
Tom Holland Navigation
My Main Masterlist Navigation (All My Works)
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@justapurrcat @natswife-marvelicious @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @theslayerofthevampires
28 notes · View notes
Link
RA Power Solutions is a company that specializes in repairing and rebuilding engines for a variety of industries, including marine, power generation, and mining. They offer cracked engine block repair stitching as one of their services.For more information on cracked engine block repair stitching, or Engine Block Stitching call on +91 9582647131 and email [email protected].
0 notes
larabiatasstuff · 6 days
Text
Part two🖤
My heart was beating faster and faster in my chest. I looked to the side Sweet Tooth was focused on driving, the steering wheel in a strong grip. "Hold on tight princess." he said and made a hard left turn bumping into another car. The whole truck was shaking and the seat belt was cutting into my skin. It was pure chaos, broken, burning cars everywhere, bullets flying through the air. "Keep your head down princess, be careful." " Yeah I'm doing..." my best I wanted to say but suddenly the back door opened with a loud sound. "Argh fuck..." Sweet Tooth said trying to keep the truck steady. I undid my seat belt "What are you doing?" "I'm closing the... Whoa...I'm closing the door. Don't worry I got this keep driving.". "Be careful princess." "Yep... I... Oh sorry Harold." I said putting the brown lunch bag to the side. I took a few steps forward when suddenly the truck started to swerve, I fell to the ground almost rolling out of the truck. In the last second I could get a hold of a handle but I wasn't strong enough to drag myself back into the truck. "Princess hold on I'm coming." Sweet Tooth said blocking the steering wheel walking over to me. I couldn't hold myself any longer and when Sweet Tooth knelt down and reached out I tried to grab his hand but to my shock he grabbed Harold and kept him from falling out of the truck. I couldn't hold on anymore and fell out of the truck and crashed hard on the road.
Tumblr media
I felt an unbearable pain and heard a loud crack in my shoulder. To my horror I saw another vehicle driving in my direction and in the last second I rolled over, lying face down on the road crying, protecting my head. Suddenly I felt a hand on my back and I heard John's voice. "Y/N girl what happened? Can you get up?" "I... My shoulder I think somethings broken." " Okay, okay I help you careful. Come on Y/N yes like that lean on me." he helped my up and my whole body shaking. "Let's get you to the car Y/N, everything will be fine." he carefully guided me to his car and helped me inside. " Oh fuck...". I said when he fastened the seat belt "Sorry, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" "No, no I'm not okay." I felt tears welling in my eyes again. "Oh no don't cry Y/N. Let's get you to Amber Rose okay? She will know what to do and I bet the big guy...". "No, no don't..." he looked at me with a concerned expression. "What happened?" "We were driving and suddenly the backdoor opened and I went close it. The truck swerved and I almost fell out of the truck. Sweet Tooth came and..." the tears were running freely over my cheeks "And what?" John asked. "He... He saved Harold instead of me." John looked at me his eyes wide in shock "Wait, hold on Harold is a fucking paper bag." I nodded and started soobing harder. "I... I can't believe it. Alright Y/N listen I get you to Amber Rose and let her fix your shoulder okay the rest is not important right now. I try to drive carefully okay? Try to relax. We'll fix this... Somehow." with that he started the engine. The drive was silent and I was grateful for it.
Tumblr media
Part three🖤
4 notes · View notes
lorei-writes · 1 year
Text
HC: Extra Chewy Fudge (™️) Misadventures
@yarnnerdally because we talked about this, and... Why not, let's crack it up.
No taglist, just cursed ramblings of a tired mind.
Content Warnings: Extra Chewy Fudge (™️), minor spoiler: Vlad's route
What's the big deal... It's just fudge, right? WRONG.
It's Extra Chewy Fudge (™️). Extra. Chewy. Who do you think made it? Jean? HA. AS IF. It took both Leonardo and Isaac to engineer it. It's so chewy it could teach dentistry students how to extract wisdom teeth. From bone. Grandma's dentures glue has nothing on it.
It has been trademarked because it could very well be what brought forth the future Vlad saw that one faithful day.
Napoleon? He used to to fix the stairs to the attic. Just chew it a little, hope not to break a fang, slap it where you need it, and boom! Querns of time can grind the mansion into naught but fine dust, but those damn stairs will remain in place. Extra Chewy Fudge (™️) will glue them to the air, thank you for asking.
It's a very versatile item. Some of the residents carry it around in their pockets, just in case they needed to gag somebody, repair a falling apart theatre, block bleeding from a gunshot wound, or you know, fight to death with their revived rival. Tuesday, if you will.
Not Leonardo, though. Not since that last time he fell asleep with it in his back pocket and his body heat melted it. Let's say it is a good thing vampires regenerate well, although his buttocks will remember it into all eternity.
As for Arthur... Well, now, that's mildly problematic. Because he genuinely enjoys it as a snack, but everybody enjoys it as a gag to shut him up if needed be. So... He doesn't necessarily have a bad time, but should he be having that sort of good time with everybody in broad daylight? Answer: unclear.
A particle of it once got stuck below Jean's eyepatch. The primary concern was that Jean would start using it to hold it in place from that point on. Practicality with a touch of sweet penance.
For all Comte knows, his family has birthed the flower that never wilts.
You know how Plankton sneaks into Crusty Crab to get that Crab Patty secret formula? That's Faust with the Extra Chewy Fudge (™️) recipe. [Insert reasoning.]
Theo threatened to put it in Shakespeare's hair once, so Comte made them all sign a pact on fudge non-aggression.
25 notes · View notes
gentle-dragons · 2 years
Text
Why We Don't Go Alone (Egon/Reader Discipline)
Tumblr media
Pairings: Egon Spengler/Reader (fem)
Tags: Hurt/comfort, one shot, spanking, discipline, forgiveness
Warning(s): Corporal punishment (I always try to handle this realistically and tastefully...this is NOT smut), maybe a bit OOC but IMO this type of scenario could bring these characteristics out in a person.
Word Count: 2,570
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You flung open the passenger door of Ecto-1 and leapt into the seat, slamming the door behind you. Egon started the engine and peeled away from the scene, tires screeching on the asphalt. You had just enough time to look behind you and see the headstones of the cemetery explode into dust, billowing out like a mushroom cloud. A faint blue aura hung over the rubble, wavering in the night sky. It wasn't pursuing you.
Your heart was racing, thudding painfully in your chest as you tried to catch your breath.
"Put your seatbelt on." came a tense voice to your left.
You turn your head and finally look at him. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, knuckles white as they gripped the wheel. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed down below the rim of his glasses, one lens cracked down the center. Dust and debris covered his hair and face.
"Egon..." you began, your voice already shaking with regret.
"Put...your seatbelt on...now." came the same solemn voice, tinged with something else.
You looked again, a new fear rising. Was he hurt?!
A quick assessment reassured you that there seemed to be no outward injuries, thank god.
You wanted desperately to explain.
"Egon, please don't be angry. I thought I could handle--."
*SCREEEE!!!*
You were suddenly jolted to the left as he made a sharp right turn off the dark country road, coming to a hard stop in front of a field.
Egon unbuckled himself and got out of the driver's seat. He marched around the front of the Ecto-1 in four long strides, the headlights casting his long shadow out behind him. He reached your door, flung it open, and hauled you sharply out of your seat.
Taken completely off guard, your mind still rushing to catch up to what was going on, Egon then spun you both completely around. He dropped into your now empty seat and yanked you towards him, lifting his right foot onto the running board. You felt another forceful tug and gasped as you fell forward, landing squarely across his now raised right knee, his left arm gripping you by the waist, pulling you tightly against his torso.
You found your voice at last.
"What are you---ahhh!!" A searing, stinging jolt of pain on your backside took the words out of your mouth.
Oh you had really, really messed up this time.
You turned your head to look at Egon's face, which was now set in a most determined expression, and your eyes widened when you saw a swiftly descending palm. Swift, sharp, burning strokes of his hand followed in quick succession that made you reel against his thighs, your own hands bracing themselves on the floorboard. The stinging was terrible...but the mortification of your position made you want to crawl into a hole and die. Tears were stinging your eyes and you could feel your throat constricting. It had never entered your realm of possibilities that one day you'd find yourself bent over the knee of Egon Spengler as he spanked you like some rebellious child!
In sheer desperation, you tried to fling your right hand back to block the oncoming palm, but all that earned you was a throaty grumble from Egon, who released your waist long enough to grab your hand in his own and pin it behind your back. He raised his knee higher and swatted the outside of your thigh! You yelped in protest and frustration.
"Owwww!! OWW! Okay, OKAY, then please stop! PLEASE!"
You wriggled as hard you could to try and free yourself from his grip on your torso. All you succeeded in doing was getting yourself pulled in tighter. 
You felt white hot anger rise up in your throat and you let out an indignant shriek of frustration.
"I'm never forgiving you for this, Egon Spengler!! Never!" You pounded your balled up fist into his thigh
He didn't react verbally to your words or your fists, but suddenly the intensity of the spanking ramped up, his hand falling faster than before. The pain had reached a crescendo and your backside felt like it had been held to a flame!
You felt panic setting in and your flight response activated as you kicked your legs frantically, trying to lessen that awful burn.
You tried in vain to reason with him.
"I shouldn't have gone alone! I know shouldn't have gone, I thought I could handle this one on my own!! OWW!! Please!!! Please let me explain!!"
Your right leg kicked out after a particularly horrid sting and you felt yourself slide backwards a few inches, your foot actually found solid ground, giving you a chance to try and push your way out from under his arm completely.
You heard him let out an exasperated breath.
He then slid his right knee out from under you and you were suddenly being yanked forward again over his left knee. He then pinned your legs between both of his before redoubling his efforts, the cracks of his palm echoing in the night air.
A sob wrenched from your chest and you clung to Egon's shin, the fight leaving your body. As you gave in an image suddenly flashed through your mind. You finally, FINALLY, realized why this was happening.
The look on Egon's face as he yelled for you to run back to the car at the cemetery. He was utterly terrified...because of you. He sped all the way here in the dark, alone, because of you. He risked his own life to save yours...because you just couldn't resist trying to show off. This was his worry and fear coming out.
Through your tears, you tried to choke out your apology.
"Egon...Egon! I sh-shouldn't have done it!! I-I-I don't know why I did it. I thought if I---"
His hand stopped in mid-air, and it was then that he finally started talking, his voice quite literally trembling with frustration, though he slowed down the spanking enough for you to be able to hear him clearly.
"Oh let's examine that, shall we? "YOU THOUGHT" No, that is exactly the issue, Y/N. You did not for one moment THINK about what you were doing here tonight! Do you have ANY idea what went through my mind when I came downstairs, saw Ray's car missing and some note from you telling me you'd gone off on your own after I IMPLICITLY told you that we never, EVER go out on calls ALONE? I thought you were already dead when I reached you!"
Every time he raised his voice, his hand came down for emphasis. He was breathing hard and you could feel his body practically trembling underneath you. He paused to push his glasses back up his nose before looking down at your shaking shoulders as you sobbed pitifully, all of the fight having left your body, your hands still gripping the fabric of his trousers.
You weren't even aware that the spanking had ended until you found yourself tugged upright, sitting on his knees. His arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest.
You thought you'd be so angry when it was over. You thought you'd never speak to him again. But to your surprise, you felt neither of those things, and instead threw your arms around him and buried your face deep into his chest, desperate for closeness, security.
You wept into the collar of his jumpsuit, smelling the familiar scent of ozone, dust, and sweat, felt his chest rise and fall, felt the pounding of his heartbeat. Egon held you tighter, relief flooding his brain as the endorphins kicked in, releasing the tension and fear that had been building steadily since reading your note at the firehouse not 2 hours earlier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[HEY GUYS: Heading out to Union Cemetery. Call just came in about a weird blue haze that's been hovering over the graves at night. Just going to take some pictures and a few readings and then I'll be right back. Shouldn't take more than two hours. Borrowed Ray's car. ~Y.N]
Egon had just come up from the basement. He'd been modifying the containment grid and needed a sugar break. However, the first thing he noticed when he reached the first floor was Ray's missing car. But Ray was upstairs sleeping. Venkman was at Dana's.
He next spotted the paper taped to the bay door and skimmed it quickly, his heart rate increasing the further he read, breath catching in his throat.
"Of all the...."
For maybe the first time in his entire life, Egon Spengler acted without thinking first. He opened the bay doors, grabbed his gear from the locker, jumped into the Ecto-1, started the ignition, and sped out of the station.
He went through every possible scenario as he raced to Union Cemetery. A blue haze, the note had read. That could be a Class I or Class III entity...but without more specific details they could be dealing with practically anything. He began to speed up.
Damn it....DAMN IT... Please just let me get there before anything happens!!
He made it the cemetery in less than an hour by sheer adrenaline alone.
He had seen the haze from a mile away and by the time he reached the cemetery he could see you. He stared for only a moment in sheer terror before his instincts kicked in.
He grabbed his proton pack and hauled it over his shoulders in one swift motion as his exited the driver's seat. He slowly approached, wand at the ready, adjusting the stream to compensate for your presence.
You were hovering ten feet above the ground, the blue haze wrapped around your body like a snake, squeezing you tighter whenever you tried to move. Your vision was starting to darken, your eyes heavy....
........WHAM!!!! You felt the air leave your body in a violent rush as you landed flat on your back. As you desperately tried to gasp for air, you could see the beam of a proton stream overhead, pushing back the blue aura deep into the cemetery.
A pair of brown loafers entered your field of vision, and you saw Egon Spengler standing over you, eyes locked on the aura, but his voice directed at you.
"Y/N! Can you stand?!" he yelled over the wind, which had picked up and was hurling dust and rocks through the air, making your eyes burn.
"Y/N!! I need you to get back to the Ecto 1 now! I'll be right behind you but you have to get--ahhh, damn it!" A flying rock had hit Egon's glasses, cracking the lens but thankfully not his eye.
You finally drew a gasping breath and flew to your feet, but you stopped short and stared in awe and horror as the haze began to pulse its aura into the sky, like a beacon.
"Y/N, do what I say and RUN!!!"
You snap out of your trance and turn, spying the Ecto 1 just outside the gates. You sprint as fast as you can to the passenger door, flinging it open and leaping inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sobs were slowing down. You closed your eyes, exhaustion taking over. He loosened his hold enough for you to shift more comfortably on his lap before resting his chin on top of your hair, muttering small meaningless sounds of comfort as your breath hitched once more.
A few quiet minutes passed this way. Egon thought you might have drifted off to sleep so he peered down at your face, surprised to find you looking back at him, eyes red, remorse etched all over your features.
"You were right, Egon. It was so stupid of me to think for one minute I could go out alone. I thought I knew what I was dealing with. I thought it was just some harmless Class I."
Egon cleared his throat sharply and peered at you, his expression stern.
"Y/N, what you've just said is the exact reason I pulled over. I was just going to take you back to the station until I heard you say you thought you could have handled this on your own. For weeks now I've noticed you trying to sidestep some of the rules we've set in place at work. I thought you were more insightful than this! There is NO SUCH THING as "harmless" in this field of study. There is no such thing as "harmless" in any line of study, for that matter!"
He was right. If you had just kept your eagerness in check for one more minute and taken Ray or Egon along with you, you wouldn't be in this situation now. You just wanted to impress them, do something on your own without a chaperone for once. Show them you were a valuable part of the team, not some young rookie apprentice they had to lead by the hand. Your pride led you here. The tears started flowing again and you quickly slid off of Egon's knee, taking several steps away.
You kept your back to him and swiped your eyes angrily.
"You're right. I have no business being in this line of work if my choices are putting myself and others in danger. When we get back I'll pack up my things and turn over my gear. I'm sorry I risked so much this evening."
Two hands gently took you by the shoulders and turned you around. Egon knelt down to your eye level.
"Y/N, look at me please."
You shook your head swiftly, so angry at yourself, your foot stomping the ground in frustration.
"Hey, woah. Slow down, okay?" Egon soothed, pulling you back to him. "You're certainly not fired, not with all the time and effort we've put into your training, and we certainly have never viewed you as a burden, if that's what you're worked up about. You've just witnessed my rarest trait...my temper. It doesn't show up often, but you can ask Ray and Venkman about it sometimes. They've each had it directed at them at least once and it apparently left an indelible impression. And when I read your note I can't recall ever feeling as terrified in my life, and I've seen some of worst things in existence. I care about you as a colleague and I feel a certain responsibility towards you. All of that being said, don't you EVER do something like this again, because I promise you we'll wind up right back here. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I do." You sniffled and rubbed your runny nose with your sleeve, eliciting a grimace from Egon. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. You accepted it gratefully and blew your nose.
"Keep it."
"I was going to."
"Come on, we need to get back."
You climbed back in the car, hissing when your backside hit the hard seat. Egon smirked outside your door.
"Good, hopefully the lesson will continue to occupy your thoughts on the ride home."
He slammed your door shut and walked around to the driver's side.
You thought twice about rolling your eyes at him, but then remembered something important.
"Ray's car! I left it at the cemetery!"
Egon had already climbed in and started the Ecto-1.
"It'll be fine. If my suppositions are correct, that particular entity only appears at night. We'll come back in the daytime to pick it up. YOU can apologize to Ray when we get back since YOU are the one who took it."
"Oh god, what'll he say about all of this?"
"I think you'll find the rest of your week is going to be filled with a lot of equipment cleaning."
You groaned and buckled your seatbelt, leaning your head against the window.
"....I think I'd rather just be spanked again." you muttered under your breath.
"If you'd prefer..." Egon said, opening the car door and stepping outside. You shot up when you realized he was being serious.
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!!" you called out in a panic.
Egon peered at you and raised his eyebrow in a warning before climbing back inside, putting the car into drive, heading back to the city.
24 notes · View notes
analogboii · 6 months
Text
car tips and tricks you may not know! 😇 a list made for completely innocent and fair reasons!!!
mayonnaise can strip paint right off!
insurance will cover 1, 2, and 4 tires but not 3!
if you need to slash your tires for whatever reason, go for the side and not into the tread itself!
following the previous, still be careful because it IS pressurized air and can try to fight back (slash don't stab!)
if you somehow spill an entire gallon of milk in the car on a hot summer day and it sits, the smell never goes away! (no matter how much you try to clean it, it lingers)
if you somehow end up leaving your jolly ranchers on your windshield and they melt to it well enough, you can't remove them without cracking the windshield itself!
same goes for all the windows
putting sugar in the gas tank isn't a guaranteed way to ruin an engine, buuuut it does end up costing a pretty penny to fix! (it CAN ruin the engine, but again not guaranteed) that also being said, it's more likely to destroy an engine if it somehow magically ends up in your oil!
as tempting as it may be to yassify your vehicle, don't put glitter in your air vents!! it never fully goes away, ESPECIALLY if you have cloth seats
once a coin gets into your seatbelt clip thing, that shit is not coming out and you will never be able to buckle again unless you completely take it apart. (quarters work best- I mean, are the worst)
when the windshield is frozen definitely dont pour boiling hot water onto it. it'll crack and break! (science, people!)
if temperatures get below freezing, definitely don't use water in substitute for antifreeze. it cracks the radiator and warps the cylinder head, causing damage to the engine block
in the summer time, you still shouldn't use only water bc water boils quicker than coolant, so it can evaporated quicker, causing your engine to overheat
hope this helps you in all your car needs! feel free to add anything if I missed something 🥰
2 notes · View notes
richardsphere · 7 months
Text
Leverage Log: The Long Goodbye
So here we are, at the end of the line. Lets see how this story's original run ended. --- Oh we're stealing a cure for Sam's disease. And a picture of a Sam-aged child as well, give Nate the chance to fix his greatest failure. And just in case the audience didnt figure it out yet, Sophie spells it out to Hardison. --- Ok so the problem isnt the company, its the building they store stuff in being shared with FBI CIA and Interpol servers and everything is classified to high heaven. Also coms are being blocked.
Oh its the return of SuperAI, one of only 3 things they never defeated (alongside Sterling and the Supermarket chain as a whole). Sophie is going to book the theatre next door for her Macbeth play. Parker knows something is wrong when Nate doesnt go on a self-destructive rampage for this one.
Nate and Sophie kiss --- Back to the interrogation, we get a fake-out line (Nate is trying to convince his interrogater the con went South. or at least further South then it actually did)
Everything about this scene screams fake. And i mean both Nate and the Interrogator are lying. I've seen Nate fake enough hospitalbeds and interrogationrooms to know when one is being faked. ---
Nate reasuring Sophie that the play is part of the Con cause he knows its the secret to unlocking her powers.
They beat the steranko with the power of social engineering. --- Call back to the elevator clothing change in episode 1.
Hardison falls down the elevator. (remember, this is not what actually happened, this is the lie Nate is spinning to his interogator. Who disapointingly, isnt Sterling. Feels like he should be in the season finale) Cop carries a back-up around their knee and shoots Elliot (might have really shot him, but no way that standard cops carry shoeguns)
We're at the bridge and Parker Hardison and Elliot are dead in Flashback!Nate's memories.
Nate and sophie pull a Thelma and Louise and try the bridge-jump, car stalls on the bridge. --- Interrogation, Nate slams the table with his fists. Interrogator claims the identity of Hardison Parker and Elliot have been confirmed from the bodybags. (not like we havent faked a corpse ID before).
She leaves him, she goes to verify Elliot definitly got shot but no way a tiny shoegun is gonna beat kevlar.
She thinks they entered through the elevator shaft (my guess: they didnt, elevator is their exit. The CCTV footage of elliot getting shot is a fake) and feigned a roof access with the balloon.
Their real goal is the data on the server as well, or at least its a side-goal. (not saying nate gave up on the cure, but the cloud itself?) Interrogator admits its not a hospital room, asks what told Nate. He goes full Sherlock.
Flashback shows Parker hacking into servers (cause of course). Turns out apparently she did break in through the elevatortunnel (i still say thats a getaway, must've been a third entrance im not thinking of.) Did i just notice a shot from within a vent during Sterlings entrance? Parker is watching. --- Wait is Nate stealing the 2008 financial crisis? Thats what they're stealing. The ultimate "and the adventure continues"storyhook.
"Justice or Order, and one day you're going to have to make that choice". 9/10, guess that Interogator isnt Nate's mark Jim is, he's priming him to betray Interpol.
Turns out this is the real reason they moved to Portland. Nate had Hardison track down the weakest link in the cloud so they could steal the cloud. They're stealing THE CLOUD, and making it look credible.
The lock is biometric. But its also a STERANKO, Parker and Hardison couldnt crack it, so they're tricking Jim into opening it to get to Parker who isnt in there. The rest of the team is alive and pretending to be Interpol. Jim just opened their doors. If the file only entered the server now that means they're stealing it now otherwise they'd have mistimed the entire heist (and they're too good at that) --- Thats a convincing fake Hardison... but Jim sees through it instantly.
Sophie didnt go on stage (of course she didnt), which means she was the one performing when Investigator went to the theatre. Nate was Shooty GunGuy. Parker entered as a detective (the ballon was real) I maintain the elevator is their exit.
Anyone reached by phone was Sophie, (im stupid for not realising that sooner) I was right (they faked a failed heist to get Jim to open the servers). I was also right about the tunnels being the exit not the entry. Interrogator thinks our heroes will escape in the audience, they're actually actors.
Jim isnt stupid, "now we're even, tell Sophie to drive carefully"
"actually, Justice is always easy". Simple line, 8.75/10 --- Nate is gonna propose.
"you have always had my back... Now, be on my side" great line. 10/10.
"Did you steal it?" "No... but I'll steal the first aniversary ring" Nate knows he's fucked up, (seriously Nate, you're better then this.)
And we get an answer to the "Sophie's real name" mystery. (Laura, except it isnt) --- And we're back to the Original Leverage Speech, given by Parker (affirming my suspicion that she was Nate's successor.)
--- Good season finale. Nate is alive, Leverage International is a thing? (i dont actually know what it means, but i think i'll see when we get to the reboot series) and the adventure continues.
Gonna get myself a little break for now. But will definitely go for the sequel series at some point in the (probably very near) future.
6 notes · View notes
thetruearchmagos · 2 years
Text
Swift Seas And Whirlwinds
An Excerpt: Bristling Skies [Part 1]
Hey there! I'm kicking off another little bit of work today, a long chunk of writing for a "Chapter" which I intend on including in a theoretical novelisation of SSAW. As such, I'll be splitting the release of the chapter blow-by-blow, as I right it out.
Chapters | 1 | 2 | ------
Tagging @lividdreamz @dogmomwrites @marinesocks @sanguine-arena @athenswrites @ceph-the-writing-spook @theprissythumbelina @thatndginger
Cagnan, The Republic of Nouvolouis
Though the rainy darkness of a day not yet three hours old, the small metropolis that was Cagnan Naval Airbase seemed a dormant, sleeping hive. Yet along one corner of the sprawling base, frantic activity was underway.
Capitaine de l'Aéronavale Aurele Traver was scrambling in the ready room, shrugging off his sodden civvie garb and donning his flightsuit and boots. Finally done, he reached into his locker, pulling out an item in each hand. The first was a glossy black helmet, pulled out of its canvas satched and held under his armpt. The second, was a perfectly bland brown paper bag, rather large and heavy, which the aviator handled with the greatest care as he exited the pilot accomodation block, crossed the short sheltered path, and stepped into the light of hangar.
The first time he'd stepped foot in a place like this, as but a young Aircraft's Navigator, Traver recalled being almost bowled over by the sheer, frenetic pace that the crews, chiefs, technicians and maintainers seemed to live and breath by. Now with a good six fruitful years between now and then, a great deal to him yet not much time at all compared to most of his colleagues in rank, the commanding officer of the 3rd Naval Air Patrol dodged and weaved like the best of them past the equipment carts and stray hoses dotted the hangar floor. Finally, Traver arrived underneath the great wings of the two behemoth Faucher AA 5.60s all these machines and men were there to serve, and the planes of his command; His Adelle, and his wingman's Danette.
The very man himself spotted Traver's approach, excusing himself from his preflight checklist to meet him first. Lieutenant de l'Aéronavale Edgard Merle had a sheen of sweat over his brow, short of breath amidst the crowded chaos.
"Bonjour, mon Capitaine. Thanks for finally making it on time, Reyer's already settled the Adelle's check-up. You got the Honey?"
A smile and a raised arm, paper bag in hand, was Traver's response, and it seemed the Lieutenant appreciated it. He took it in his oil-stained gloved hands, reaching into it and pulling out a pair of green glass bottles, a murky gold liquid sloshing around within. "Honey" was the aviator's name for it, a lightly intoxicating tonic as sickeningly sweet and sticky as its namesake. A pricey gift, even on a Captain's salary, but Traver knew their day's orders, and decided it would be worth the cost.
"Try not to finish the whole thing yourself, Edgard. And keep it away from Daviau, the weather's supposed to be pretty nasty until the sun rises."
Merle seemed to focused on the bottle to notice his first remark, and gave a shrug and a laugh at the second.
"Mon cher Capitaine, if you can't trust your pilots, I would think you would at least trust the Fauchers!"
"I'm serious, Edgard."
And he was. It would be hard to name a pilot who loved his birds as much as Traver, but he was nobody's fool. The Faucher may once have been a modern machine, but that time was before even his own. Traver had picked up his own Adelle fresh out of a costly rebuild, to fix its cracking wings and grinding engines, and heard that the rest of the fleet was hardly doing better. The Capitaine knew that the mighty Fauchers, the aircraft he'd built his career on, were flying on borrowed time.
At least Traver knew that he and his command would be helping give the old things a glorious goodbye.
"Take the bottle, then get ready to go. We leave in an hour, and where we're going I suggest you bring a good jacket."
18 notes · View notes