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interliminality · 3 months ago

Text

1 : 23 AM | PSH

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 pairing ; tutor!seonghwa x student!reader || heavily inspired by this ao3 fic || genre : smut ||

tags: dubcon (read at your own risk..) pet names (baby, darling) degrading, kinda a power imbalance (idrk yall..) slight spanking, let me know if i forgot anything || a/n: STILL CANT WRITE SMUT so hop off me.. bai !! ♡︎

REQUEST A DRABBLE / READ MY PAST FICS

the clock ticks steadily in the empty library. you sit, hunched over your laptop with a grimace, reaching out to grip your cup of coffee and take a long sip.

you hated taking linguistics.

this class was the bane of your existence, and you couldn’t seem to figure anything out, you didn’t know how socio-economic status influenced language usage. you hardly knew what socio economic meant.

as you click through your plethora of tabs, you see one tab you opened (in your hour of increasing desperation). “hire a private tutor! call this number ___”

seeing as you had money to spare, and 4 days until midterms started, you decided to hire him.

‘park seonghwa, linguistics tutor!’

just what you needed.

you click your laptop off, checking the time on your phone.

1:23am.

you decide it’s time to pack up and get home, you needed the sleep, seeing as you had a session tomorrow.

you walk into the crowded library seeing people everywhere. your breath hitches as you see a man approaching you. is he ever on campus, you’ve never seen him before.

“hi! are you… Y/N?” the kind man asks.

you stood absolutely frozen.

god was he sexy.

the way his glasses sat prettily on his nose, how plump and pink his lips were, how much his silver hair complimented his eyes. oh and the rings on his fingers, god.

“if you’re not.. i can jus-“

“no no no! i’m sorry, so sorry. i-i am Y/N. are you…”

“park seonghwa! nice to meet you!” he says, outstretching a hand

you grip it tightly, shaking his hand.

god the way his fingers wrapped around yours.. you wished they were around your throat. but you quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“i set up for us over here, come on” he says in a tone that makes your heart flutter. you follow him hesitantly, not knowing what to expect.

and to your shock, he’s got a couple of water bottles and snacks for you both to share.

“take a seat” he says, sitting in the seat opposite of yours.

“let’s get started, shall we? what are you struggling with?” seonghwa says, his slender fingers twirling and clicking the pen.

your eyes fly to his fingers again. the sleek designs carved into the chunky silver rings immediately catching your attention.

“well.. i’m having problems with uhm.. just abstract concepts..” you say, your eyes slowly trailing up his face.

“ahh. that’s quite easy. look, to grasp abstract concepts.. you should start with puzzles, okay? anything for visualization.” he says, reaching over you to write something on the empty loose leaf paper that sat infront of you.

the scent of his cologne.. god it was intoxicating. your eyes follow his slender fingers as he draws out a model for you.

“alright. so what you wanna do is..”

after a few hours of tutoring, you seem to finally grasp the concept. nodding and asking (dumb) questions. seonghwa decides to end the session.

“alright. i think you should be good, one last question though. what are the core components of a language?” he asks, eyes boring into yours.

you shift in your seat.. “i think.. i only remember uhm.. phonology..?”

“come on, y/n-ah. 4 more, you can do it.” he says in a low and unusually sultry tone.

your face heats up, though seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice.

“phonology, morphology, syntax, semantics.. uhm.. and pragmatics?” you blurt, feeling intensely overwhelmed

“atta girl. you got it.” seonghwa says, rubbing your hand softly. “alright, that’s our session.” he says, starting to pack up his stuff.

you sigh softly, packing up your stuff as well.

“c-can i.. schedule a session for tomorrow?” you ask seonghwa nervously

“i’ll be quite busy tomorrow, you’ll have to come to my apartment pretty late, i’ll send you the address.” he says, bidding you goodbye.

as you lay in bed that night, your thoughts dart back to him. god.. seonghwa. the way his fingers twirled that pen around, the way his voice sounded when he praised you..

“atta girl. you got it”

before you could even realize what was happening, your hands drifted down your thighs, lazily running a finger over your (now dampened) panties. his words replayed in your mind, constant scenarios flashing through your head

your fingers rubbed at your oversensitive clit, your head falling to the side as you let out soft moans. you wished that these were his fingers, rubbing you so gently.

you didn’t even know how long it took you to cum, whimpers of his name as you finished.

god you felt so embarrassed. cumming to a guy you hardly knew?

you decided to just let it be, turning over and quickly falling asleep.

the tips of your ears redden as you walk through the snow. the freezing cold snowflakes hitting your face. why would you wear a skirt in winter?

you find his apartment, room 1117 . you knock on the door, hoping he’d answer soon. this cold was biting you.

the door soon slips open. “sorry to keep you waiting” seonghwa says in his soft tone, his eyes dancing over your form before looking back up.

you couldn’t lie and say yours didn’t too. the way his grey sweatpants defined his slender waist. the way his baggy top outlined his figure in the light.

“come on in” he says. you quickly slip your shoes off before walking into his apartment. “i’ll get that for you.” the older says, removing your coat kindly for you. “thank you.” you say softly

“it’s no problem, really.” he says. “follow me”

seonghwa‘s study is just around the corner, two burgundy rolling chairs sit next to eachother at the clear desk. “you can take a seat” seonghwa says with his honey voice.

“wanna get started?” seonghwa asks and you nod.

“alright, that’s the 4 hour mark. let’s take a little break, shall we?” seonghwa says, his slender fingers tracing the spine of the textbook infront of you, his rings clinking together softly.

you nod, your face heating up slightly. “need anything?” seonghwa asks. “uhm.. no not really.. thanks though”

seonghwa smiles at you. “hungry?” he asks, grabbing a tiny clear box of blueberries from a grocery bag on the side of the desk

“just a little bit” you reply, shifting in your seat. “well, have some of these” seonghwa says, handing you the clear, plastic box. “i’ve heard blueberries help with knowledge retention.” seonghwa says matter-of-factly.

“that sounds like bullshit” you say, a slight teasing smile on your face as you pop one into your mouth.

“well we can test the theory.” seonghwa chimes. you pop another one into your mouth, noticing seonghwa scooting his chair tantalizingly close to yours.

“are those blueberries good?” he asks.

“delicious.” you say happily.

“i think i’ll try a couple, too.” seonghwa says before his lips crash onto yours

of course you didn’t expect that, but it was just as you imagined. his soft, plush lips on yours. god it was euphoric.

to your dismay, he pulls away after a bit, licking his lips off to savor that blueberry flavoring. “they’re quite delicious aren’t they?” seonghwa comments. a slight smile on his face

your face is on fire, trying to soothe the heat in your cheeks with a few more of those cold blueberries. “uhm s-seong-“

“come on baby, like you didn’t want it? i saw how you eye’d me up and down when i opened the door.” seonghwa purrs, his voice a low whisper.

“i know you’ve been thinking about me.”

your lips crash back together in a fiery dance of passion, his hands roam your torso and his slender fingers begin to unbutton your shirt.

seonghwa pulls away after a bit, hands frantically unbuttoning your shirt as you see the growing hardness in his pants.

“s-seonghwa..” you stutter, but you don’t stop him, or pull away. “hm darling? do you not want this?” he asks, (and you don’t answer) his hands tugging your shirt off your shoulders, revealing a red, lacy bra. “fuck.” seonghwa groans, his cold, ringed fingers slipping underneath your bra, pinching and twisting at your nipples.

your eyes widen, a soft moan escaping your slightly parted lips. “h-hwa..” you start, but his slender fingers sliding in between your legs cause you to lose your train of thought.

he takes no time to slide your panties to the side and slip a digit in between your folds. you bite back a moan as he slips his finger deeper, the cold silver rings causing your walls to flutter.

“s-seonghwa!” you moan, gripping the arm of the chair as he slides another finger in, pushing them in and out at an unrelenting pace.

the echoing study room is filled with wet sounds, and you and seonghwa’s groans.

“yeah, you like that baby?” seonghwa asks, his tone a sickly sweet hint of faux sweetness. his fingers quicken, causing you to moan loudly, throwing your head back.

“guess i’ll take that as a yes.”

before you know it, he’s sloppily bending you over the clear desk, unbuckling his pants as he lifts your skirt up, a light spank coming down on the supple skin.

you felt dirty.

as seonghwa slid his tip across your folds, slightly slipping it in, causing you to let out a shocked groan.

as seonghwa slides into you, aside from your shared groans, it goes silent.

“you take cock like this all the time?”

your eyes widen, you didn’t expect his words to make you feel some way, but they did.

but seonghwa doesn’t stop there.

“didn’t know miss ‘top of her class’ was such a cockslut. and with your tutor?” seonghwa lets out a dry laugh before starting to thrust into you.

you let out a harsh yelp, his thrusts causing the desk your torso lies on to buck against the wall, causing a sharp banging sound.

“f-fuck. god!” seonghwa moans from behind you, already feeling close to the edge.

you felt nothing but pure bliss.

your eyes shut as seonghwa’s thrusts grow unrelenting, his fingers knotting in your hair. “f-fuck. you’re so t-tight” seonghwa says, his hips stuttering.

seonghwa’s grip on your waist tightens as your knees buckle, a choked but pleasured sob coming out of you as you reach your climax.

seonghwa followed not too far behind, burying himself deep as he shoots his load into you.

he pulls out quickly, sitting down on one of the rolling chairs. you follow suit, his load spilling out of you onto the chair.

“you think you’ve learned the material?” seonghwa says, his beautiful silver hair a mess on his sweat streamed forehead.

“definitely. might need one more session though.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez smut

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bobbertskeetz · 11 months ago

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Derek Morgan x Female!Reader

maybe something where reader goes into labor while Derek is away on a case or reader surprises Derek with a visit to the office and brings their new born along with her ( kinds how Haley did with Jack in the earlier seasons )

AHHHH!! love this one, thank you very much for the request. Actually thinking of combining both of these into a two part imagine?? For now though, enjoy panicked Derek <3

𝙪𝙣𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙙.𝙢 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: Despite his desperate attempts to be by your side 24/7, Derek is convinced the universe is out to get him during the final days of your pregnancy

Themes/Warnings: pregnant!reader, fiance!derek, general themes of the show e.g unsubs, graphic cases (not in depth detail) fem!reader, fluff fluff Fluff!!! angst if you squint...

"Don't-"

"Derek please."

"Sit! Ah ah, stay... good girl, you get a treat."

A quick sloppy kiss is planted on your left cheek while Derek holds you down by the shoulders, trapping you in place in the nest of pillows and blankets he created to accomodate your swollen stomach and achy back. Your fiance stands behind you, knees kneeling on the arm rest, while he massages the knot growing at the base of your neck, while you lightly scoff.

"Speak to me like that again and I will knife you."

"Easy Mama, you shouldn't model such a hostile attitude for the little man!"

Reaching up behind you, you grasp at his neck gently, bringing him back down to your level for a kiss. The kiss goodbye which you had previously attempted to get up and give him, before he left for God knows how long.

A cheeky grin grew on his lips as you moved to his ear with a whisper;

"She, will be the most well-mannered child ever born, taking after her mother..."

"Bet?"

"Shut up," another kiss lands on his lips, "Hotch is waiting."

Derek lets a low groan, one saturated in frustration, slowly spill into your shared kisses. Eyebrows furrowed together, accompanied by a small frown, he allows his head to lull to one side, rubbing the pad of his thumb tenderly along your jawline.

"Don't dare move from this couch, Sweetheart. Not without Garcia or your mother here to help you out."

"Der-"

"Humour me gorgeous?"

A final kiss, and a huff;

"Fine."

You can't find it in yourself to feel any sort of remorse for agreeing to his terms as his blinding toothy grin leaves a fuzzy warmth budding in the pit of your stomach. What harm will a few days on the sofa do you anyhow?

Hotch was growing impatient, although, trying his best to remain understanding. He knew how hard it was, how the guilt of leaving your pregnant partner at home eats you alive. However, these were the demands of the job. One last nagging phone call from Hotch, and Derek was half way out the door, reminding you of the meals in the fridge (kindly prepared that morning by Penelope) and of the vitamin supplements you have to take before you go to bed.

With a swift, yet endearing exchange of I love you's, Derek was finally on his way to Florida. He knew it was silly, hating an arsonist more for taking him away from his growing family, than the actual crimes committed. Yet, these were the demands of matrimony and fatherhood.

Three days of couch-rotting down, and you were verging on insanity. Every slight movement left a series of uncomfortable spasms in your joints, the braxon hicks were something serious, and you constantly felt as though you had a gaping hole in your stomach, almost as if you were riding a never ending rollercoaster. Baby Morgan needed to make an appearence soon, or she would have to be evicted.

With twenty minutes left on the clock before your mother was scheduled to come and help you to the bath, you awoke from your half-sleep with a start. Why were your sweatpants sticking to your thighs?

Yes, Derek forbid you from moving unless absolutely necessary, however, peeing yourself was definitely classed as an emergancy. Except, you hadn't. There, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, sat a weird bloody substance on the line of your underwear.

Fuck. Me.

Immediately you called your fiance. Should you be calling him first? What's he going to do from Florida? This was a bad idea, he's busy after all... But, before your anxiety could hang up the phone, the one voice you so desperately needed sang down the line like a prayer.

"Hey gorgeous girl, how's my little famil-"

"Baby! Now- baby is- Help."

"What?! Sweetheart hold on, are you sure?"

"Honey, my mucus plug is very much unplugged and my abdomen is being ripped apart."

A sharp wail escaped you as a dull ache made itself known in the pits of your cervix, and then the anger came.

"Derek. I need you. Now."

"Everything is going to be just fine sweetheart, let me call-"

"No! Don't leave me, please don't leave me."

"Okay angel, I'm right here." His assurance soothed you for the time being, both of you awaiting your mother's arrival. And it was safe to say, Derek was sick to his stomach.

Every damn day. Every day he tried his hardest to be there, especially nearing the end of your third trimester. His biggest fear was accidentally leaving you alone when that one awaited moment came; and his greatest nightmare had just come true.

"I should've been there Reid!"

Spencer nodded, sympathetically, "You couldn't have predicted this."

"Well, I should've. Fuck. It's just exactly what I should've predicted" He felt as though he could cry, and stifling a sniffle he continued, "Of course the second I leave that's when the little guy decides to make an appearance."

"Murphy's law! Essentially everything that could go wrong will go wrong. Named after Edward A. Murphy Jr, for centuries this belief has plagued several societies-"

"Spence." JJ shook her head gently, nudging it towards Derek's defeated countenance.

Grimacing, Spencer blushed and tried again, "Morgan, honestly you couldn't have done any more than you already have."

JJ then chimed in, "She's not holding this against you, shit happens, and you are getting ready to go home right now! I mean - you got the call a half hour ago, and already the jet's almost ready"

Opening his mouth the respond, Derek was cut off by Hotch swinging the precint's office door open, informing him that he could go home.

"Jesus, that fast?"

He was already rushing out of the room when he heard the discussion between JJ and Hotch,

"Special treatment for the family man."

Family man. He was a family man now. Non-commital SSA Derek Morgan had a bride-to-be waiting for him, and a baby on the way. And he could never be happier.

Within hours, Derek was bulldozing his way through the ward, stopping every nurse who was unfortunate enough to get in his way, to ask for your room. When he finally found you, he all but fell through the door with panic.

"Is everyone okay?" Kiss. "Hi baby!" Kiss. "Are you okay?! Is baby?"

The tenderness with which he held your face immediately soothed every anxiety within your body, even only momentarily. He was here, he made it. After an elongated silence, you shook yourself into action, reminding yourself that Derek was not a mind reader, despite what his job would lead you to believe.

"Everyone's okay honey, little rascal is still inside me," you replied softly, almost inaudibly, the fear felt previously when you had first called him suddenly returning, "You made it?"

His heart lurched and eyes softened at the vulnerability in your voice, and Derek finally took in the sheet white anxious expression settled on your face. Gently, he clasped his warm hand around your own, careful to avoid tugging at your drip, and dropped a sweet kiss to the cracks of your knuckles.

"I made it sweet girl." Another kiss, then travelling to your trembling lips, "I'll always make it doll. That, I can promise you forever."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #bau team #spencer reid fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfic #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan x you #derek morgan fanfic

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transformers-spike · 3 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/transformers-spike/775946369958641664/human-pet-reader-x-swindle-is-so-funny-to-me

OH WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT SWINDLE GETTING A FASCINATION FOR VALVES

So. I think it definitely starts once he hits the realizing-he’s-attached-and-possibly-romantically-attracted phase. Like, he knows his human is cute and definitely he likes the way they look and maybe he just hasn’t thought much about them sexually because maybe he clocked humans as too small to be pleasurable to bigger species outside of specific kinks and just shrugged it off—

But then he accidentally walks in on them masturbating.

Maybe it’s because he was supposed to be gone for longer. Maybe it’s because his human just figured he wouldn’t mind since they’ve been naked infront of him. Either way. Swindle ends up seeing his pet masturbating—eyes shut in pleasure, hand delving into their fleshy, wet little valve, and just, freezes. They’re either too distracted to notice or care but Swindle is just, caught off guard. He gets whatever he needs and leaves reader to their business but after that he just. can’t. stop. thinking. about it.

It shows up in his head constantly, replaying the mental imagine of reader spread out on their back and lost in pleasure. When he goes to rest his face against reader’s stomach he’s suddenly so much more away of how close he is to reader’s valve, how easy it would be just to move ever so slightly and press the barest tip of tongue to it and lick. It flusters him so much. All the while reader is wondering why his face against their skin is so warm right now.

I've been re-reading this screaming If we're going for the interpretation that TFA bots can install their own spikes/valves, this gets soooo much better. Swindle is more interested in financial gain than anything else, but if he's going to keep the best human to himself... well, it looks like he's going to make some extra "investments" and see if they pay off. Aka, he's going to get himself a small spike model so he can fit inside his favorite pet. Probably commissioned too, because humans are hella tiny. Swindle doesn't use his interface array that often, but watch him jerk it and finger himself to the thought of his pet pleasuring itself the second he had the time to contemplate what he saw. He never overloaded so hard in his life Now, he won't promote the uh... human interfacing aspect until he himself tests it out with his dearest pet. Bro is a scumbag but also very attached to his creature

#transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers animated #tfa swindle #tfa swindle x reader #valveplug

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effietrinket1619 · 20 days ago

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For the Lantern Family TikTok saga

Jess having a whole series where she hands Kyle random art supplies to see his reaction to them, which can either result in an interesting lesson in how to use said supplies, such as more high quality art supplies, or absolutely hilarious rants about art supplies such as Roseart or those cheap watercolors that every elementary school art room had.

oh my GOD YES!!!!

(artists, forgive me for any mistakes in the following answer because i am so painfully unfamiliar with literally every medium. my medium is words </3)

it starts when kyle, eye visibly twitching, keeps breaking the leads off the new graphite pencils he got and then goes and rants to jess about it who's already got the content wheels turning in her brain. is she shamelessly profiting off of using her fellow lanterns for clout? absolutely. but they're just making it so easy.

so she starts a new thing and it takes off almost immediately. her audience are very accustomed to hal's charm, looks and cluelessness but watching jess lob a packet of art supplies at kyle's head while he's peacefully doing other things and watching his expression change before he goes on the rant of a lifetime becomes endlessly entertaining too.

when jess nearly clocks him in the temple with a set of roseart, she practically delights in the way his eyes narrow as purest wrath sharpens his expression. the ensuing rant is both hysterically funny and also very enlightening to a lot of people as they hear from someone who went to art school about the logistics of cheap supplies and why they don't work as well. he's halfway through recommending better products when jess asks him about actually affordable options.

kyle has some locked and loaded. he grew up with a single mum and they weren't exactly well off so of course he has some other choices which he's happy to talk about as he idly screws around with some shading and gradients using the cheap pencils. he just says that there are better products out there that'll get the right kind of result.

jess asks if he could actually make things with these pencils. kyle shrugs and says he probably could, so she shoots him with a, "Prove it." and how could he possibly resist?

this evolves into videos of kyle being given a Thing that he has to make art from. the thing is literally anything. jess once hands him a bucket of water and a paintbrush with a grin and he goes wild anyway, painting a weirdly decent picture of an octopus on the pavement. it lasts all of two minutes before the sun cooks it away but it happens.

they use whatever:

condiments (that video ends with several plates covered in mayonnaise and an extended clip of john sighing in disappointment right at the end)

those cheap ass markers kids use (we call them textas over here) from school (kyle goes the extra step by using guy's face as his canvas while he's asleep to make it extra dangerous. the result is a spectacularly colourful butterfly that guy's unaware of until hal teasingly points it out which ends in a very funny filmed chase where jess literally climbs a tree to avoid guy's wrath and kyle has to jump into the lake)

eyeshadow (hal sits still as the disgruntled but eventually appreciative model for this one because he's the face of the channel and jess has to shoot down multiple collaboration offers from...unsavoury individuals. kyle never realised how fun makeup is and will be doing this again)

bones (no one knows where jess got these bones and no one is willing to ask. kyle puts together a sculpture that hal insists has a resemblance to soranik despite kyle's stubborn refusal to admit anything)

literal clay and ochre (kyle stares at jess blankly for a moment but when he figures she's not joking, he gets to work and manages to emulate styles of paintings found on cave walls on actual cave walls for 'authenticity', although kyle strays from the traditional muses and goes for weirder, more aliens shapes and creatures. he gives them strange names too, like 'kilowog' and 'larfleeze'. jess treats this like it's completely normal. the fans are convinced jess's family is just a bunch of fucking cryptids at this point.)

and it's a hit! kyle's not the main attraction of the channel but he's certainly not an unwelcome addition. he's a little awkward on camera at first but his passion bleeds through with basically everything he talks about and does and people find that very endearing. kyle's not entirely sure how to handle this newfound fame considering he has a better grasp on the implications than hal, but he thinks he's pretty chill about it (he's not) and he's handling it like a pro (debatable). jess is just here for the chaos.

#this got a little out of hand but i hope u like the response!#unrelated but i'm rereading hal jordan & tglc and holy shit #kyle makes me wanna tear out my hair every time he talks to soranik #dude pull it together #kyle rayner #jessica cruz #green lantern #hal jordan

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hometoursandotherstuff · 10 months ago

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I have never seen anything like this house. Notice that there are no windows. That is b/c the entire home is covered in bullet-proof Lexan. And, that's not all- every surface inside is also Lexan- the walls, furniture, you name it. Everything is bulletproof. Built in 1953 in Maumee, OH, it has 3bds, 2ba, asking $399,900. It looks brand new inside, I don't think it's ever really been lived in. You have to see this.

It's a nice piece of property- 5.08 acres of it, surrounded by $100K worth of fencing and it also has $300K of concrete, so it's a bargain already.

Here's an idea of the layout. Our tour will begin with the entrance - by the red carpet.

I don't know what this is. Maybe it's a rear entrance.

Here we are in the entrance hall. The red carpet is out to welcome guests to your bulletproof lair. Geez, it's awfully bright in here. They chose the lightest Lexan color- notice how shiny the walls are? Lexan.

Even with the model, I still can't find my way around. I don't see a living room, but this is the first room, with a wall of bulletproof closets and matching desk. There's an exercycle in here for some reason.

I don't know, is it a desk? Looks like they have rubber mats protecting the floors. Now, why would you put wood doors in a bulletproof house?

This is your combination kitchen/exercise room.

Nice, shiny Lexan cabinetry. The fridge looks like a 50s model.

Weird little door there. They've got wood beams on the ceiling for a rustic touch.

This is exercise equipment, right? Weird place for a clock.

Bench w/a neon light. This house has some strange features.

Very large pantry.

Bulletproof shower door. Why is it open at the top? Stop playin.'

Laundry room has a little desk in the corner.

Clearly, those machines aren't bulletproof.

Here's your bedroom with the bulletproof bed, nightstands and storage. But, you can still easily be shot. That mattress is so high, you'd be an easy target.

Who cares about the walls, when the bed makes you a sitting duck? This house is dumb.

Anyway, here's your bulletproof closet/dressing room. I hate when my lingerie has bullet holes.

Now on the toilet, you're only partially hidden. Come on, man.

I don't know, a primary bedroom?

I thought that the real estate description had a lot of nerve saying that it could be demolished and the buyer could rebuild. Now, I'm beginning to think that might be a good idea.

The property has a nice water feature.

Over 5 acres is a lot of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1360-Old-Trail-Rd-Maumee-OH-43537/34722959_zpid/

#bulletproof house #unusual homes #unique homes #Lexan homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 10 months ago

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do u have any resources for how to do like . ok not sex ed per se. but i’m in a position where im interacting pretty regularly with a couple of 16-18 year old coworkers (im late 20s) & they see me as kind of a mentor or older sister figure. i’ve been finding myself in a position where they’ll try to get my advice on what seem like risk taking behaviors & i have a hard time balancing my advice between my belief in personal autonomy (ie they’re adults and have the right to make their own bad decisions) and OH GOD THAT GUY IS 30 RUN YOURE TOO YOUNG FOR HIM. bc in my experience telling teens that they’re immature or too young for something tends to be a nonstarter in terms of . them actually listening to advice. especially when theyre 17 but have a job and a lease. so i guess what im asking is do u have any resources or advice on how to parent high schoolers? im too young to be a father but i have found myself in this position and its giving me gray hair

okay listen. as someone who answers questions for a LOT of teenagers on here, the model I've always tried to embrace is "this is an intelligent person with thoughts, feelings, and desires that are exactly as complex as an adults, they just have slightly less lived experience in which to contextualize things." it's completely possible to give someone younger than you advice the same way you might offer input to someone your own age; just offer information without acting like they're dumb for needing it.

in the case of the age thing, you've obviously already clocked that "you're too young for him" is an approach that can easily come across as condescending and shut you down as a reliable your of advice. instead, let's try reframing this in a way that puts the issue where it belongs: on the 30 year old trying to date a teenager. it's not "ew, you're too young," it's "ew, I've known a lot of guys like him and they're always trying to date teenagers becase they think teenagers are dumb and easy to manipulate. people his own age probably all think he's a loser."

but, more importantly, it's not your job to stop them from making any risky decisions ever, okay? some of them are still going to want to hang out with that 30 year old. your role in that case is to help minimize harm. you can't make them ditch their creepy older boyfriend, but you can make sure they understand how to have safer sex, their options for protection, the realities of STIs and how to get tested + treated, the risk of pregnancy and options for unplanned pregnancies if that's an option. you can't run anyone's life for them, but you can always give them tools to be safer!

#sex edventures 2024

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solarsturniolo · 4 months ago

Note

ik you've been critical of the triplets before (breath of fresh fucking air tbh)

wanted to know what you thought about the whole mallory situation? she made a tiktok saying she was concerned about their physically aggressive behavior and how she didn't think it was right that they would act like that, and they responded to her tiktok in a friday video. idk i certainly have thoughts but i wanna hear yours if you're ok with sharing them

Oh i was waiting for this one.

To start, THIS IS NOT A HATE POST. But it is something that needs to be said. I’d also like to clarify that i’m not trying to ‘clock’ anyone in this post. This is not meant to spiral out into another episode from them or their fans, but if they aren’t going to be good role models for young impressionable children, I will.

First and foremost, absolutely nothing about the way matt reacted in that video was okay. He is 21 years old, he is a grown adult that pays bills and taxes. He should not be laying his hands on anyone in an aggressive matter, even if they are just brothers. Whether you agree or not, that was abuse. Here is the Oxford dictionary definition of the word abuse, for those of you who need clarification.

Now of course, including content like that in a video is an option. And it was an option that they decided to take. Nick DID NOT have to leave that in the video, and if he hadn’t it wouldn’t have caused so many issues. What gets me the most is that some part of him KNEW it was too much because he edited half of that moment OUT of the video. We saw the extended clip through their photodump that shows just how obnoxiously aggressive Matt’s tantrum was. Not only did he hit Nick (quite hard and in a very vulnerable spot), but he also took a gift that Nick had gotten (gag gift or not, it doesn’t matter) he threw it onto the ground and told him to go and pick it up. The average person knows better than to behave that way, and it was very alarming to see that behavior from someone that we all look up to.

This led to a large divide in the fandom. Some people were (understandably) very uncomfortable with Matt’s behavior. And some people defended it with their lives. Now i’m not saying me and my sisters never fought, but we don’t lay our hands on each other. Idk maybe im out of touch with some new-found sibling abuse agreement or something, but we don’t hit each other. We argue, we get mad at each other, we fight and we make up.

Personally, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with calling out your idols when they do something wrong. At the end of the day, we’re all human and we all make mistakes. It’s easy to forget that when you let fame and money get to your head, making you feel invincible because you know your bandwagon of 13 year olds are going to be at your every beck and call. It’s our job as supporters to remind them that mistakes are okay, but accountability still needs to be taken for actions like that.

When you are in a position where you pay your bills by posting your private life on the internet, you cannot get angry that people are going to have comments and opinions about the stuff that you post on the internet…Nick made a comment in yesterdays video about how people need to mind their own business, but…you…willingly posted…that clip to the internet. For millions of people to see. Nick did not have a gun to his head while editing that video, he did not need to include it but it was a decision that he made.

One reason why i don’t watch them anymore is because they refuse to take accountability for anything that they do. They have also been drawing this out much longer than they needed to. The fanbase would’ve talked about it for a week and forgotten about it with the next friday video. The only reason why it’s still getting attention is because they so badly want to seem ‘unbothered’ by it but they keep bringing it up in everything they do. Matt’s instagram story, his comment on Nick’s recent post, their recent tiktok…literally anything that they have posted in the past week and a half, Matt and Nick just CANNOT HELP THEMSELVES from making a snarky comment. It’s a very icky trait to have imo but i’ll keep my mouth shut on that (since it’s illegal to have opinions in this fandom.)

Personally, I think Mallory was valid in her opinion and responses. Maybe terrifying was a strong word to use, which she has addressed, but it’s not like the boys don’t use hyperboles ALL THE TIME. And nothing about her video was her trying to “cancel the triplets”, she was simply sharing her concerns with Matt’s behavior.

The fanbase LOVESSSS to jump to conclusions. Most of us that had an issue with Matt’s behavior were not trying to cancel them. We’re frustrated because they’re grown adults who refuse to take any constructive criticism or accountability. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, the boys dislike ANYONE who is NOT AN ENABLER. Especially Nick. They LOVE an enabler that doesn’t call them out on their crappy behavior.

Back to yesterday’s video, I was VERY unimpressed with their responses. Snarky comment after snarky comment, only proving more and more that they aren’t unbothered by the situation because they’re trying so hard to prove a point. Why not stay silent like you do with everything else? Your ‘friend’ (who you still communicate with but won’t publicly hang out with) who was cancelled for contacting minors? Didn’t have much to say about that did you? But the second something makes them look bad, they jump the gun and go right into defense mode. It’s so funny to me because people would respect them so much more if they just took some accountability, reflected on their actions, and made a change to their behavior.

Including her tiktok in their video was yet another choice they made, and it was a very immature one. You cannot tell me they didn’t think about the outcome of this situation. Singling out ONE PERSON’S VIDEO, putting a target on their back, and opening the gates for these 13-15 year old hellspawn brainwashed sturniolo cult fans to go and cyberbully someone for having an opinion (and a respectful one at that.)

Also trying to blame Chris and saying Matt was ‘provoked’ into hitting Nick???? Chris made a simple comment??? And this is NOT the first time Matt has gone overboard in a reaction he’s had to one of his brothers. He’s had many outbursts, all of which ARE concerning. Throwing things aggressively, hitting, punching, cussing your brothers out on camera…it’s fucking humiliating???? I am so sorry to break it to you all but nothing about that interaction was Chris’s fault AT ALL. So for Nick to pin it on his younger brother, i found it absolutely ridiculous.

And, to sum it up, Nick did not ‘clock her’. I’m sorry but his responses when people call him out always remind me of a middle schooler. He refuses to take any accountability. HE edited the video. HE kept the clip in. HE posted the full clip on their instagram. NICK STURNIOLO DID THAT. HE DID NOT HAVE TO DO THAT.

Can’t wait for reacting to hate comments part 2!!! Because, let’s face it! This isn’t hate, it’s the truth. I’m not an enabler and apparently that makes me a hater.

And yes, they over-do the drama for our entertainment, but they’re so much more entertaining when they’re all getting along?! Even if they have an argument, it’s far more entertaining when they aren’t hitting and kicking and punching. I genuinely think their emphasis on the physical aspects of their videos came straight from the tea party video, because it’s just gotten worse and worse since then.

I haven’t watched them in months and decided to watch that video and it was a clear reminder as to why i don’t watch them anymore. This is not a hate post, i will always be grateful for their videos because they’ve gotten me through some of the darkest moments of my life. From abusive relationships, to losing a loved one to suicide, to the loss of a childhood pet, to losing my job, to trying to take my own life…I am beyond grateful for their videos and I always will be. That being said, i think they have some serious maturing and reflecting to do if they want to continue to grow at the speed they were growing at a year or two ago.

Yes i think Matt is a sweet guy. No i don’t think he meant anything serious by hitting nick. The point is that it does make some of us uncomfortable to see that behavior from a grown man because so many of us have experienced abuse. I’m not saying we’re weak or snowflakes for our responses either. Posting your outbursts on the internet for 6-7 million people to see is a choice, and you cannot expect it to come without consequences.

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boolger · 1 year ago

Text

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 1 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[chapter 1] ☆[chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5]☆ [chapter 6] ☆[chapter 7]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 1/10 ☆ 1,843 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, more will be added.

☆ note: I’m trying to keep the reader’s appearance vague, but she is afab, chubby and has shoulder length hair. ☆ As for plot – I’m not sure if I saw the post on tumblr or tiktok and I cant find it lol, but it mentioned reversing the more classic fanfic plots. So for example, the main character isn’t kidnapped by a mob boss - but kidnaps the mob boss. So, that is what I started with and then I will freestyle along the way. ☆ There will be mention of chronic illness and death of a character, not a main one, but the reader's little sister, but I try not to go into details about the illness aspect (since I don’t know too much about that). There will be focus on grief and the loss of a sibling however, so if that triggers or makes you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read this one. ☆ dubious consent in the later chapters, that might border to non-con. ☆ Badly described hacking. I don’t know shit about hacking, I've studied things in the humanities category the last six years. So if a bad understanding of tech makes you upset, I'm sorry.

Being a hacker wasn’t as glamorous as you had expected when you were younger. After everything with your sister, you had expected things to change, sure, but not into this. Everything was even more of a mess than before and somehow you got into blackmailing. Which, well… When you hit the right people, it paid well.

And sure, you had felt strong at first. Like you were invincible, a vigilante who blackmailed rich and awful people. You needed the money more than them, after all. Yet, the clock kept ticking and you needed more money fast. You needed more money to pay the last of your debts off and run away.

Which was how you ended up like this, blackmailing the mob.

The 141 gang was infamous on the streets of London. Most people knew who you talked about and those who didn’t, were often tourists or recently moved to the town. Whether they were hated or loved, really depended on who you asked. Some people said they made their areas safer, so they now had less crimes - others said they were horrendous bastards, who acted above the law. In truth, you didn’t really care. You weren’t a model citizen yourself, running around and blackmailing people. All you cared about was the fact that they had money, lots of it and they were easy to blackmail, since they didn’t want to be exposed.

Now, threatening them with the local police? Wouldn’t do much, it had to be to everybody – and then all the journalists too. Sure, you didn’t really have the energy to mass email out all the proof you had, but the 141 didn’t need to know that. You had them believe that you were a small group of people anyways and not just… you.

You, out in the almost empty house, over 50 miles away from London. It was much more lonely out here now. Half a year ago, you and your sister lived out here in peace, happy with how everything was going despite her illness flaring up now and again.

Now it was empty and lonely. Sometimes, when the wind hit the house at the right angle, you could hear the cars from the nearby motorway.

Alas, the 141 thought you were a big and bad group of hackers, threatening to take their kingdom down - and sure, you had a lot of stuff of theirs that could be bad in the wrong hands. You had papers, screenshots and recordings from when you hacked into different security cameras. You had traced a lot of them too, you had evidence.

Now they just needed to pay.

So far, they hadn’t really been fun to play with. They refused, saying that you were bluffing. Saying that if they saw you, they were going to kill you, which wasn’t really nice of them. You doubted they couldn’t survive without 60,000 pounds. Sure, it was a lot of money - but you needed them too. A bit more, you dared to think. And for a whole mobster empire? Seemed like a good deal to you.

Besides, you were so curious that you wanted to die: Who was their boss? Nobody knew. Everyone had ideas and theories, sure, but the famous Watcher was still unknown, even to you - which bothered you so much. You had your own theories, your main one was that this Watcher was really just John Price.

No matter who the Watcher was - and how good your deal was - they were just so fucking stubborn. So, you needed to prove that you were serious. You didn’t really have the time to mess around and send them more photos or shit, so according to movies you saw - and google - it was time to step up.

Go from hacker to kidnapper. Which really hadn’t been a career plan of yours, but here you were.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You had tracked one of them, the Scot that everyone called Soap, so that you could follow them from a distance. You weren’t stupid enough to actually try to shadow them. Despite them not hanging around the finest streets of London, your beat up van stuck out sometimes.

Plans? Sure, you had… some of those. At least, you knew what not to do.

First of all - You weren’t going to take Price, people were around him all the time anyways and if he was the leader as you suspected, that wouldn’t go well.

Secondly, all his men were out of the picture too. At least those who always hang around him, because some of their biceps were bigger than your face.

Third, you had to avoid a proper fight - so that meant waiting for the right moment. You had a taser, duct tape and you had some strong sedatives. You were going to hack your way out of fighting.

Fourth and final point so far - get away as fast as possible. You weren’t going to stick around.

So just… wait for the right person, then tase, inject, duct tape, drive away. It was fine. You had all the components, you just needed to put it all together, then blackmail the group, get the money, drop off the person and then get away.

Your van was blue and rusty, the engine was loud and all the back seats were taken out, since you had lived in it for a little while, outside the hospital. The mattress you used to have in the back was pulled away, since you needed it for the captive to sleep on inside the house. They would have to deal with being on the car floor for the trip - they would most likely be sedated anyways. Now there was just some trash in the back of the car that you should probably have cleaned up, but didn’t care to, since the car bore bad memories - as well as some small electronic pieces that you had picked up here and there, thinking you would need to use it for experiments.

As the group came to a stop at a pub you knew they went to sometimes, you went behind it and parked next to a bigger car, which hid your van a little. Then you waited.

You wore some of your more discreet clothing. The baby-metal band t-shirts were hidden beneath a grey hoodie, with the least monster energy drink stains on, and a pair of rugged jeans. If your sister had been here she would have rolled your eyes at you and said you looked like a teenager trying to be rebellious - and not a 25-year old woman. You missed being told that. Your hair was hanging loosely, hoping it would hide your face a little. Your septum piercing was tipped up and hidden, and you had changed your usual silver tongue piercing for a clear one. Though you doubted that it was your tongue piercing that would be damning evidence.

After waiting about 25 minutes you crawled over the seats rather inelegantly, opening the sliding door to turn towards the other car, for some fresh air.

You were tired, yet stressed at the same time. It was unnecessarily stressful to kidnap somebody, especially when you didn’t really want to.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was about a power nap and 30 minutes later, when you were ripped from your thoughts at the sounds of the back door opening and a female voice telling somebody that she needed her cigarettes. You tipped your head forward a little, seeing how she closed the backdoor behind her.

You had seen her before. She seemed to be near the others a lot of the time.

She looked in her 40s, with light brown hair that almost looked a little blond in the rare sunlight of London. Nicely dressed, a confident smile on her face as she pulled her car keys from her bag and the car right next to you lit up.

Maybe a girlfriend? Wife? Secretary?

No matter what, the chance was too good to be true.

Somehow you managed to catch her off guard as she seemed more focused on finding her cigarettes as she opened her car door – so that was when you struck, tasing her. Everything happened so fast - yet not fast enough at the same time.

You pushed the needle into her skin, as she groaned, clearly a little confused from being tased - and most likely from hitting your car floor - as soon as the contents were injected you pulled the needle out again. The woman groaned and grabbed your wrist, mumbling something. You pushed it off, grabbing the roll of duct tape you had prepared, pushing her onto her stomach. She wasn’t going without a fight though and you wanted to cry as she managed to pull her hand free. You needed the bloody drug to kick in this minute.

You sat down on her back, your weight useful - the work of wrapping her wrists together was honestly shit. YouTube made it look so much easier.

You ignored her as she began to curse you out. grabbing her bag, emptying the content on the floor of the car, eyes constantly flickering to her. She seemed confused - so you focused. There was an Apple air tag in it, that you hurriedly picked up. There was no phone though. You wanted to throw up, this was taking longer than it should.

She tried sitting up, having rolled onto her back again, your eyes meeting. Hers were cloudy, while yours were focused. You pushed her down again, hands running over her jacket. The moment your hand touched the familiar shape of a phone, your hand dug into the pocket, not even trying to be nice about it. She was mumbling about how what you were doing was wrong, but you didn’t need to be told that.

As soon as you got the phone, you got up and crawled in between the front seats, sitting down and starting the car. You needed to get the hell out of here, now.

The sound of the shitty engine drowned out her complaints. You drove off as quickly as you could, throwing her phone and the AirTag out in a couple of bushes that the car passed.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was several minutes later that you concluded that nobody was following you, which made you breathe a little easier.

As you waited for the green light, you looked over your shoulder, taking in the sight of the woman on the floor of your car, in between empty monster cans, cables and small electronics. She was laying quietly, but you could see her chest moving.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? You could feel an anxiety attack crawling along your ribs, threatening to overwhelm you.

As soon as the money was transferred, you dropped her off again - and then you could run, somewhere up north. Start somewhere fresh, where you don't know anybody. Where the 141 or bad memories couldn’t find you. Maybe get a dog.

First things first, however. You needed to get this whole kidnapping thing done.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #my writing #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #kate laswell x reader #kate laswell #cod fanfic #cod mob au #boolger #call of duty Kate Laswell #cod smut #cod lesbian #cod reader #call of duty reader

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tagsecretsanta · 5 months ago

Text

From @thalassastra

From @thalassastra to @niffler-gold

Prompt given:

1. Scott comfort. 2. After Jeff's return. 3. Scott finally getting the weight lifted of him (could be mentally or literally).

Would rather it just be focused on the brothers and dad not really any other characters.

Only warning is um it discusses the existence of Santa?!

The New Old-Fashioned Way

“Scott! Santa’s been!” Gordon bounced on teenage Scott Tracy’s bed, a present clutched to his chest and a cheerful grin on his face. “Uuuurggghhh. Too early Gordon.”

“But Santa’s been, look!” “Santa isn’t real,” Scott grumbled uncharitably, and tried to pull the covers over his head. Gordon wasn’t having any of that and pulled them back down.

“Of course he’s real.”

“You know it’s Dad. You’ve known that for at least two years now.”

“Yeah so? Dad’s real. Dad is Santa. Therefore, Santa is real.” He jabbed Scott with the still-wrapped present. “And he’s been. Look, you have one too!” He bounced to the bottom of the bed and picked up a shiny blue package adorned with cartoon Santas.

“Hey, gimme. That one is mine.” Fully awake now Scott took the present from Gordon and sat up, wiggling over so that his brother could climb in next to him. Grinning, they opened their gifts. Gordon squealed in delight as a cuddly fish fell from the package. Scott’s grin grew wider as a kit for a model airplane tumbled out. It was almost a joke present these days - he got a different kit each year, which he attempted to build and paint. Sometimes he even finished them. He always looked forward to seeing which model “Santa” had got him. “Come on, let’s go show everyone what we got!” Gordon jumped off his bed with a thump.

Scott finally glanced at his clock to see if he should be letting Gordon wake everyone up.

“Gordon, wait! It's five in the morning!”

—-------------------------------------------------

Many years later…

It was Christmas Eve. Sort of. When your work made you regularly cross time zones it was sometimes tricky to keep track. Still. Gone midnight on Tracy Island, so yes, Christmas Eve. Still the day before in New York, which was where Scott currently was, and still dark for another hour or so.

It was easy to think he had all day today and tomorrow to sort everything out. But the time he had gained going west he would lose again heading east. But he was in New York. Lots of shops! He could get those last-minute gifts. Head into the office to chase whoever was lingering out of it. Technically the office was closed as from lunch time for the Christmas break; they gave all their staff the week off. Some of them would hang about finishing things off though. Scott didn’t approve. They needed to get home to their families. He could finish up any paperwork and make sure that the staff got home on time. Or go to do their Christmas shopping. He really should have started that already. It was almost stereotypical, a man of his age leaving it until Christmas Eve. But he’d been busy. But Dad was home! He had to make this Christmas the best one yet!

He gritted his teeth as the beam lying across his shoulders shifted. A trickle of dust poured down through his torchlight, glittering in a mockery of the season’s decorations. He glanced down at the shop workers huddled together in the narrow space he was holding open. He was under no illusions; he knew he wasn’t holding the whole shop up on his back, just keeping something in balance that was holding something that was holding something else and stopping the situation from getting worse… but it certainly felt like he was holding the whole building up.

“How’s it going there, Virgil?” he grunted through gritted teeth.

“Nearly with you. Hold on.”

“Holding on.” Don’t think about the weight. Think about other stuff. Like the orders that still need to be put through for the new year. Like that loose connection in Thunderbird One that kept telling him that the port light was out even though they’d checked it and it was fine, but what if the light really did go out and he ignored it thinking it was just a faulty warning? Like should he buy brussels sprouts cause no one except John and Virgil really liked them but it was kind of a tradition? Besides they would complain that it was the only time they got to eat them and they were nice. Nice. Huh.

The beam shifted again, the weight pushing him down to one knee.

“Virgil!”

Light.

The space that had been confined was illuminated in a bright white, the cold air of the night brushed past his fingers, and the weight was gone.

The shopworkers scrambled to get out.

Scott sat down with a thump and took a deep breath, feeling it filling his chest, stretching his aching shoulders, holding it for just a moment, before slowly breathing out the tension and relaxing. He’d done it. They were out.

“Hey, Scott.” Virgil put a hand on his shoulder; it was sore, but he welcomed his brother’s reassuring touch anyway. “Not a good idea to rest here, bro. Come on. Everyone’s out, and Two’s got our morning coffee waiting.”

Scott laughed.

“Morning? Was evening when we left the island.”

“Evening hot chocolate then,” Virgil gave him a gentle tug. “Come on, on your feet.”

He helped Scott up and they climbed over the rubble and away from the flashing lights and cameras, back up into Two’s module.

“I’ll clear up,” Virgil offered. “Take a break. You've been up for hours. In fact, get John to fly One back. I'll fly home and you can sleep.”

Scott yawned and looked at his watch.

“No, the shops will be open in a couple of hours. I'll head to the office, grab a shower and get those orders in, then I can head over to the store-”

“Seriously, Scott? Take a break. We're all having Christmas day off. If you wear yourself out today you're just going to spend it sleeping.”

“Yeah but I've still got stuff to do.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It's gotta be perfect, you know? Dad-”

“Dad doesn't expect anything other than for you to be there to celebrate with him. Awake. Come on, Scott. You don't have to do everything for him, you know. He's Dad.” “He was stranded in space for eight years, Virgil.”

“Yeah?” his brother started shifting some boxes, replacing tools and supplies that had been dragged out when he’d arrived. Scott leaned back on a crate, watching.

“You can’t act like everything is just going back to the way it was before.”

“I don’t. I’m well aware of how far he’s progressed with the physio, how far he still has to go, and the physical damage that likely won’t be healed. But he’s still Dad. His mind is still as sharp as ever, and he hasn’t lost any of that determination that he had before.” Virgil grunted, lifting another box. “The problem is, Scott, that you are not letting anything go back to the way it was. He’s capable. He’s already not the same guy you pulled off that rock a few months ago.”

“I know. I’ve read his progress reports too.”

“Do you, though?” Virgil paused in his rearrangement of Two’s hold to stare at Scott. “‘Cause I get the feeling you don’t really believe them, and you’re not going to until you see Dad start to do more.” He shifted another box. “Which you’re not going to see until you slow down a bit and pay attention.”

“Yeah, well,” At a loss for how to argue against that, Scott pushed himself off the crate, stretching and ignoring the crack his shoulder produced. “I’m going to the shops. I’ll be back for bedtime.”

Virgil gave him a disbelieving look.

“I promise. Someone’s gotta go get your disgusting sprouts.”

“Fine. I’ll wait here to fly you home. If you’re not back in five hours I’m going to come get you.”

“You won’t need to.”

“Good. ‘Cause that would be very inconvenient. I still have to add more glitter to the card I’m making for you.”

“Uh, I said no glitter this year! It gets everywhere.”

“Tough. Christmas is sparkly. You shall have sparkles.”

“See you later, Virgil!”

“Five hours.”

Scott threw a wave over his shoulder as he departed for the offices.

A shower, a clean outfit and a coffee later and Scott was feeling… well, tired, if he were honest. But he had an hour to sort the paperwork and three hours to shop before Virgil would be after him.

Of course nothing was that simple, though, because the paperwork he thought he’d completed last week had been bounced back, and he could delegate it, but he wasn’t going to do that to anyone on Christmas Eve. Or Christmas Eve Eve. Still the 23rd here, he reminded himself. It wouldn’t take long.

Two and a half hours later he pushed the last of what he was going to do away and rubbed his eyes. There was more to be done, but it could wait. It might mean a bit of a crunch in the New Year, but he needed to do the shopping. He needed to make this Christmas perfect for his Dad’s homecoming.

Whenever John went shopping, it was a precise operation. He would look at the footfall trends, the weather reports and optimise the route to visit the shops he wanted to go to in the order that required the least doubling back. John would never, ever, have ventured into the shops two days before Christmas. Scott had to admit, his brother was onto something.

The crowds jostled and heaved, queues to check out stretched back into stores, blocking access to the shelves. It wasn’t so much that Scott minded crowds, certainly they didn’t bother him as much as they did John, but it was frustratingly inconvenient when he was in a rush.

There were some things he knew he had to get; A few fresh items that he hadn’t remembered to list on the last supply run; (bag of sprouts, some chestnuts, a bunch of fresh sage to make stuffing with,) some Eggnog, and chocolate after dinner mints, (because he’d always liked getting an extra sweet after dessert.)

As he piled the food into his basket he tried to work out what time he’d have to start cooking in the morning to make sure everything was ready, then decided he’d figure that out later. He was too tired right now. He (eventually) checked out with his purchase and belatedly realised that it would have been far more sensible to leave what he knew he needed until last, because now he had to carry it around while he browsed for gifts.

Luckily Kayo was easy to shop for; in the weeks leading up to Christmas she would always make sure to leave magazines or website pages open with things she wanted. It was just a matter of “stumbling” on what she had been browsing and coordinating with his brothers to make sure they didn’t all buy the same thing. This year he had been allocated a kimono wrap style silk top with a turquoise and pink floral print, which he knew he could get from one of the big department stores, because he had actually checked that some time ago with the intention to call in and get it bought early. He hoped there would be something he could get to go with it there too, because he’d always thought it was more exciting to at least have something that was a surprise, even if it was just a pack of sparkly hair bobbles. (Kayo had actually declared that a very thoughtful gift because hair bobbles would frequently vanish.)

May as well start with that, he thought as he wound his way down the street. He was still lacking a good present for Gordon, and had no idea whatsoever what he should get his Dad. What do you get the guy who both owned an island and had lived with nothing for nearly a decade? He’d had everything and nothing. A box of chocolates just didn’t seem to cut it.

A man in a tophat and tails opened the door for him as he entered and Scott nodded his thanks, giving a smile that was perhaps starting to verge on the side of a grimace. Tables decorated with whimsical Christmas scenes interspersed shelves of nuts, biscuits, chocolates and dried fruits. Further on makeup, bath bombs, soaps… He scanned the goods on display as he wound his way to the clothes department, hoping that inspiration would strike.

He’d barely reached the silk tops, (stopping only to pick up a jumper for Gordon that he’d spotted on the way,) when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out to see Virgil’s name across the screen.

“It can’t have been-” a glance at the time told him that it had, in fact, been five hours since he’d set off from Two. He did consider ignoring it and pretending that he just hadn’t heard the ringtone in the busy store, but he wouldn’t have put it past his brother to suddenly appear out of the crowd, pick him up and carry him out. He reluctantly swiped to connect the call.

“Hello.”

“Time’s up. Meet me back at Two, I’ll fly you home.”

“I’ve still got to buy a few things…I haven’t checked out here yet. …and I haven’t got Dad anything.”

“Scott, he doesn’t need anything. Just grab him some food. Honestly, he’s still loving anything with a taste, he’ll appreciate it.”

“It just feels so impersonal, you know?”

“You’re overthinking things again. Seriously. I’ll give you an extra twenty minutes. Look around the store you’re in, grab something that reminds you of Dad, even if it’s just a little toy plane, and come back.”

“Thirty minutes?”

“Twenty. You’ve got to allow time to walk back here and if we don’t leave soon we’ll miss the evening at home, Christmas Eve movie together, remember?”

“..okay.” He hung up and then marched as quickly as he could through the store thinking; something that reminds me of Dad, something that reminds me of Dad…

“You get something?” Virgil asked as Scott came jogging up to Two.

“Yeah…” Scott ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I did so well on the presents front this year. I should have started thinking about it earlier.”

“Relax Scott. All done now. We should be back before midday, enough time to get a sleep in before tonight. Try to have Christmas off from worrying.”

Scott frowned as he followed Virgil to the flightdeck and settled into the co-pilot seat and tried to relax for the flight home. He couldn’t help but do a bit of worrying though. Christmas had always been a big deal in the Tracy household; and this was the first time in eight years that his Dad would have a proper one. What if it didn’t live up to the memories? He closed his eyes so Virgil would think he was trying to get some sleep while he ran through the dinner plans in his head again.

—----------------------------------------------

The lights on the tree were multicoloured, because everyone agreed that even though they were rich now, “classy” plain white lights were boring. The only other light was from the projector, playing the first movie of the night. They hadn’t been able to decide between “A Muppet Christmas Carol” and “Die Hard” so it was a back-to-back, with festive drinks and snacks.

Scott was sitting on the sofa, shoulder to shoulder with Virgil and his Dad. It was warm, the lights were soft, the muppets were singing. His eyes were heavy.

He couldn’t go to sleep yet. It’s not like he hadn’t grabbed a few hours when they’d gotten back earlier. There were still things to do. Still things he needed to prepare for the morning, presents as yet still unwrapped…

“Might want to hold off on starting Die Hard, Virgil,” Jeff said softly as the first movie ended.

Virgil looked over to see Scott slumped on his Dad’s shoulder, mouth slightly open, eyes shut and breathing deeply.

“I’d leave him, but he’s not as light as he used to be. And he’s going to get a cricked neck at this rate. We’d better wake him and send him to bed.”

“Don’t wake him. I’ll take him. I’ve done it before.”

Jeff frowned at his son, then raised his eyebrows in surprise as Virgil stood and picked Scott up, with a smooth enough motion that the older brother slept through being moved.

“Does this happen often?” he asked the room at large as he watched Virgil carry Scott out.

“Does Virgil try to pick Scott up and take him to bed? Yes,” Gordon grinned. “Does it work? Most of the time, no.”

“He normally wakes up, unless he’s very tired,” John clarified.

“Then they have an argument about it. Then Scott goes to bed. Then they make friends again in the morning when they apologise to each other,” Alan added, oblivious to his older brothers shooting him a look that said he could have left the arguing part out.

“I see,” Jeff frowned. The Scott he remembered was meticulous about getting enough sleep; always wanting to make sure he was fit enough for anything the day threw at him. That he didn’t always, well, that was news to him.

Virgil returned a few minutes later, giving a thumbs up.

Good he’s getting some rest now, Jeff thought, that’s something I’ll have to have to deal with. But for now, there were other things to think about. One son asleep, four more to go.

—----------------------------------------------------

“Scott! Santa’s been!” Gordon crashed onto his brother’s bed, no longer a small boy, but a rather heavy man. Scott woke up with a start as he was bounced off the mattress.

“What?! Gordon?” He rubbed his eyes sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Gordon was grinning at him. “Santa’s been.” He waved a present in his face.

“Santa?” Scott repeated with a sleepy frown. He didn’t remember coming to bed. In fact he was still wearing his clothes from the night before. He wiggled up onto his elbows and looked down at the foot of his bed. Sure enough, there was a blue gift, wrapped with a silver ribbon, and a label with his name in cursive attached to it.

“Well?” Gordon didn’t grab the present as he so often had in years gone by. This one was for Scott and he knew Scott needed to be the one to pick it up first.

For what seemed like the longest time to an impatient Gordon, Scott just started at the present, convinced that he was dreaming. Eventually he sat up and crawled to the end of the bed. Picked up the package, running his fingers over the ribbon and re-reading the name on the label. It wasn’t his father’s handwriting - it was Santa’s. It was the same script his Dad had used to disguise his own hand when he took the role.

“Santa’s been,” he whispered. “Santa’s back.” He grinned and opened the present, pulling the ribbon free and ripping the paper off.

A model kit Tiger Moth fell out.

“This was the one I’d asked for when-” the tears started to run down his face, but he was still smiling.

Gordon’s eyes looked a bit glassy too, as he threw his arm over his brother’s shoulders and gave him a hug.

“Hey, shall we wake the others and show them?”

“Wake the… wait, Gordon, what time is it?”

—-----------------------------------------------

The sun was rising, golden light streaming through the windows and sparkling off tinsel and glass, causing the huge Christmas tree to glitter in a rainbow of colour.

Underneath; a stack of presents, not all of which had been there the night before.

Scott felt as if he were in a dream. It was the same, but different. Their childhood tree had been half the size, it would have hit the ceiling of their home otherwise. But the years-old paper and dried pasta decorations they had made at school, the over-glittered salt dough shapes they had made with their mom, still hung among the shop bought baubles. There were still candy canes that Alan claimed he didn't touch until Christmas day, yet were always fewer in number than at the start of the month

He watched as Alan raced Gordon to the tree, sliding on their knees to stop among the presents. John and Virgil followed at a more leisurely place, having already obtained hot drinks.

Virgil's hair was sticking up funny, and John was wrapped in an interestingly-patterned dressing gown. They were all smiling and laughing, and there was an air of excited anticipation. When was the last time they had tumbled into the living room in PJs to open presents? They’d left that long behind, always putting it off to get dressed first, because really, what was the rush? But now, Scott felt the buzz too, the remembered magic of the morning. His Dad had pulled up a seat with a good vantage point near the tree. He was dressed; smart shirt, not a hair out of place, and sipping his coffee with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

And just for a moment, he looked as he had all those years ago. Scott saw him dark haired and strong, a quiet presence while the rabble of boys dug through gifts, reading labels and pushing parcels to the recipients with enthusiastic calls of “this one's for you!” and “look what I got!”

“Hey Scott!” Alan slid a present towards him, breaking his reverie. He grinned and forgot about the things he hadn't had time to organise, instead moving over to sit with his brothers and join in. There were gifts from his siblings, a fancy hamper of biscuits, jams, chutneys and chocolate from Lady Penelope, a jumper his grandmother had made, and, for the first time in eight years, a stocking stuffed with little gifts from “Santa”. He ripped the paper off patterned socks, a box of chocolates, a book, a puzzle and a bottle of colour changing bubble bath. Colours were compared, chocolates swapped, advice on puzzles offered and rejected.

He dished out his gifts to his family, (hastily wrapped after Gordon had woken him), and tried not to squirm a little as he handed his present to his Dad over.

“Get anything that reminds you of him,” Virgil had said. What had made him think this represented his Dad he had no idea, but it was what it was.

Jeff opened the parcel to reveal a shirt with flamingos all over it, and laughed, a genuine, happy, surprised laugh.

“Your mother bought me a shirt just like this, when you were a toddler. You loved it. You'd sit on my lap and count the birds. I thought you'd be too small to remember it.”

“I didn't,” Scott replied in surprise. “Not really. I just saw it and thought of you.”

“It's perfect. Thank you Scott.” And he meant it.

Scott grinned. He’d really been enjoying the morning, living in the moment with his family, but the sun was getting higher and he knew he had to get on with things.

“Well, I'd better get to the kitchen,” he looked at his watch, attempting to remember any of the timings he’d worked out on the flight home the day before. “I think it might be a bit late starting…”

“It's already started.” Jeff smiled and gave him a wink. “Don't worry, Scott. Santa got everything organised today.”

“You did?” Scott blinked. “I mean… but… how?”

“I worked out how to survive on a rock for eight years and ran a multinational company for several before that. You think I couldn't figure out how to sneak a few presents home and sort a dinner?”

Scott turned red.

“Well, uh… I just thought…”

Jeff laughed.

“I got some of it prepped yesterday and had a bit of help from Brains before he flew out with setting up the cooking timers. He left a little robot here, that’s quite a help in the kitchen. Honestly, it’s all in hand, and you can help me with dishing up when it’s ready.” He smiled.

“Why don't you go play some games with your brothers? Looks like Alan has a couple of new video games, and Gordon's setting up a chess board there.”

Scott glanced over. Alan was starting up his console, while Kayo collected controllers and Gordon was carefully pouring something into a set of frosted glasses arranged on a board, while John and Virgil watched. John was seated in the opponent's chair and had a much more serious expression on his face than Virgil who was wearing a face-splitting grin.

“Shots chess?” Scott realised. “Oh no, who got Gordon that?”

By the time dinner was ready, both Gordon and John were tipsy, (they had had the sense to stop after one game, after all, Dad was watching), Alan had been permitted a go at the shots chess against Virgil using lemonade and cola, and Scott had found himself caught up in games and laughter and simply forgetting that he’d ever been worrying about how long to cook potatoes for.

They settled around the big table, to roasted turkey and honeyed ham, crispy potatoes and parsnips, steamed carrots and (in Virgil and John's case) sprouts. There was sparkling wine to drink, pudding with brandy cream, for afterwards. Finally, they settled around the lounge with coffees and the after-dinner mints, allegedly to watch a movie, but in reality, to doze after having eaten slightly too much food.

There was a pleasant lull in the afternoon; a pause where each member of the family took themselves off to have a bit of space and quiet. They knew they would come together again later, and it was in companionable silence that they arrayed themselves about the place each absorbed in their own task. John and Alan had stretched out at either end of a sofa, leaning back on the cushions, legs tangled, new Christmas socks on display. The only noise coming from either of them was the flutter of paper as they occasionally turned a page in their respective books. Gordon and Kayo had gone for a walk, insisting that exercise helps with digestion. (John had claimed that it did nothing if you waited through a two-hour movie after dinner before you went for the walk, but was threatened to a rematch at shots chess instead, and so had conceded the point.)

Virgil was painting on the mezzanine, trying out a set of metallic paints he had received. Scott had settled himself nearby, dragging a table into position and tipping out and sorting the parts of his kit airplane.

He glanced down over the balcony railing to see his father sitting at his desk with a newspaper folded on his lap, and some magazines arranged before him. He was chatting softly with Grandma. It looked like they might be doing a crossword. Scott smiled, as a long-forgotten memory resurfaced of the pair of them doing word puzzles from time to time.

Everyone was content, and calm. Scott returned to his model, concentrating on the immediate task, warm in the knowledge everyone was safe and happy and home.

—-------------------------------

The sun set over the sea, and the stars appeared in the clear night sky.

Scott found himself standing on the balcony outside, with a glass of whisky in hand, the salty ocean breeze mingling with the scents of the trees, and the lingering smells of pudding and cinnamon wafting from inside. Virgil was playing the piano, happily taking the requests that were thrown at him. There were a few old favourites, some classics and an ill-fated attempt at converting this year's viral Christmas hit into something that could be played on the piano.

He took a deep breath, drinking in the scents, the sounds, the sight of the lights reflected on the pool below. It was only now he'd had time to reflect on the day he'd realised just how much he'd needed this. To let go, to be a child again. And it had been good, really good. It had, he realised, been perfect, without him obsessing over getting everything just right.

His dad joined him on the balcony, glass in hand.

“Merry Christmas,” he raised his glass and took a sip. Scott did too, acknowledging the toast.

They stood in silence for a few moments more, his father enjoying the same sensations.

“When I was out there,” he tilted his glass towards the stars, “for a while, I thought it was the pageantry of Christmas that I missed. The lights, the colours, the food.” He shook his head. “It wasn't, really. It was seeing you and your brothers have fun.”

“It really has been. Fun, I mean. And I can't remember the last time-” he suddenly realised what he was saying and shut his mouth, then gave his Dad an awkward smile. “I hope you've had a good day too?”

Jeff laughed and clapped his son on the shoulder.

“I've had a great day. Do you know how long it's been since I've gotten to order other people around?” He grinned. “I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of getting all this sorted without you noticing. And to see it all come together…” He gave a short laugh. “It's so refreshing, working things out again.”

“I thought you'd have had enough of working things out, after…well you know.” Scott nodded up towards the sky.

“There was a lot to work out there, sure, to start with,” Jeff leaned on the balcony, next to his son and looked up at the stars. “I had to figure out how to make things work, how to get sustainable food, water, power…” He shrugged. “...and then one day I'd done it. Got everything working, everything running on cycles. Got a routine. And then that's what I did, day in, day out for years. I tried to keep my mind active, of course, drew stuff, wrote things. But actually using the skills I enjoy to organise, to face a new challenge. That's something I've not done in a long time.” He smiled at Scott. “To be perfectly honest a lot of the time I was pretty bored.”

Scott smiled in amused surprise.

“I guess I thought you were working every second, up there.”

“It was pretty quiet.” He took a sip of his drink and then gave Scott a sideways look. “I missed working with others too. Letting them take some of the burden. Collaborating. Delegating.”

Scott huffed a gentle laugh.

“That wasn't subtle.”

“Subtlety was never my strong suit. Virgil told me whenever you weren't sure what to do, you'd ask yourself what I'd have done.”

Scott mumbled something about interfering brothers.

Jeff laughed.

“Well for the most part, you got it right, Scott. You've achieved more than I could have ever imagined. But you got one bit wrong…”

Scott felt his stomach drop. What had he done wrong?

“I never even tried to take all that on my own.”

“...But you built the company from the ground up, got it going-”

“With help. Your mother's for a start. Who do you think was earning a living when I was starting out? She loved her work, yes, but even so, I wouldn't have sat at home trying to launch a business if she hadn't agreed to it. And if it hadn't been for your grandparents helping to look after you boys, well it would have never worked. And even away from family, I had a budget to get things off the ground, and that included things like paying for an accountant to help with bookkeeping when necessary… and do you think I made the website alone? I mean, I had a go, but it looked like someone had made it at the kitchen table.” He patted his son's shoulder again. “I'm not superman, son.”

“Oh. I just, I guess I'd never thought about that.”

They settled on the balcony, a comfortable silence passing between them while they reflected on the past.

Scott became aware of his Grandma requesting a song. Virgil launched into “Rocking around the Christmas tree,” and she started to sing, then his brothers joined in. He smiled to himself, memories of them all singing as his mother played the piano so many years before.

“You should be CEO again,” he blurted out.

“Scott, when I said you needed to ask for help, I didn't mean I wanted to take over from you. You've been doing an excellent job and I don't want to take that away from you.”

“No, I want you to.” Scott swirled his whisky around in his glass, watching the liquid spin close to the edge. “I really hate meetings.” He gave a half smile. “And I seem to remember you quite enjoyed them.”

Jeff wondered if that was a dig at the family meetings he'd call whenever he was trying to work out which boy was responsible for the latest mischief.

“I thought when you came back that things had changed too much to go back to how they had been. You'd been through so much, and we've all grown up… heck, the world is different in some ways too.” He furrowed his brow in thought. “And I don't think it will go back, not exactly, not to how it was before. And I think that's why I wasn't letting anything go back at all. I think I was scared because it wouldn't be exactly the same as before, it would be like, I dunno… grasping at trying to relive those days and then finding it coming up short. But I'm not scared of that anymore.”

“What changed?”

Scott grinned.

“Santa came back. And it wasn't the same but it didn’t matter that it was different. I still felt those feelings again, the excitement of a bit of magic in the air.”

Jeff grinned.

“I was a bit worried you'd think it was a foolish old man trying to relive your childhood.”

“No. It felt…happy. I feel happy.” Scott visibly relaxed, his shoulders softening and giving a contented sigh.

“So… you really want me to take over TI?”

“Yep.”

He considered it for a few moments.

“You know, I think I'd like that. I don't think I had even thought about the fact I could go back, really.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“We’ll work something out, together. But for tonight let’s just enjoy ourselves. Come on, I want to join the others.”

The group at the piano had gotten to the end of the song and belted out at the top of their lungs:

“Everyone dancing merrily, in the new, old-fashioned wayyyyyy!”

Scott grinned as his father went inside.

“Here's to doing things in the new old-fashioned way.” He took a drink, gave the starscape one last look, and followed his Dad inside to be with his family.

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds #tag team secret santa 2024

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nanabansama · 3 months ago

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im biased i just miss mitsukou - in the meantime what do you think will happen in the next few chapter ?? have a fabulous rest of your day/night :D

Don't worry anon i understand -- every time the Yugis arent on screen I start to nod off a little. 🤝 But it does make me happy for fans of other characters!

Anywho, I admittedly haven't been too into predicting lately, but here are some ideas;

Although Nene is in the innermost reaches, meaning she's close to Kako and the yorishiro, she still has to brave their wintery landscape. And as Nene herself says, she is... FREEZING!!! So i'm guessing my girl is going to have to find some way to not freeze her butt off. Meaning she'll likely try to enter one of the houses.

But here's the catch! I'm theorizing this town is a toy replica! Like those little model sets you see of Christmas villages:

My theory is the town and all its residents are toys/creations of Kako. ^^ So whether they'll help Nene or not is the question...

But what I think'll happen is they'll help her fit into the town by giving her the right clothing! Maybe they'll even think she's one of them? Look, she's a kid, like these guys:

And then they can take her inside, she can get all warmed up while learning about the town, its residents, maybe even Kako and Mirai, before heading off to find them.

But one issue is that the residents ermmm don't seem to speak Japanese. ^^; So maybe Nene wouldn't be doing a whole lot of learning... But still! There's more than one way to communicate, right?

Given there's already a potential language barrier, it's possible the residents aren't toys... it's just, AidaIro loves to surprise people, and we haven't gotten a good look at the villagers yet, so anything could happen!! Nene encountering toy people speaking a foreign language just sounds like an amusing challenge for her that would fit the story.

As for what will happen when she actually encounters Kako and Mirai... oh brother. Obviously they are going to claim their new reality is perfect, no notes. But hopefully Nene can convince them by telling them how Kou, Mitsuba, and presumably Aoi, Teru and their precious Akane have all died. ^^; Like, come on... Teru being dead alone is going to cause a whole host of problems for Kamome city!!! The Clock Keepers can't be THAT unreasonable... (but I guess it'd be boring if it was that easy... *sigh*...)

Anyway, I'm predicting that Tsukitty (yes the cat is Tsukasa, I will die wrong over this, everyone must choose a hill to die on in this fandom and this is my current hill) is going to be very unhelpful to Nene until the critical moment when he... performs some kind of heroic sacrifice?! Well, I hope not, but I do think he will eventually have some kind of change of heart and help her out somehow. ^^; The bigger concern for me is that Kako likely has some way to control Tsukitty that will make it hard for Tsukitty to help Nene... less he face some kind of punishment.

But deep down I think Tsukasa has a soft spot for Nene, so if he really needs to I think he'd help her out. ^^; We can't ignore Tsukasa has an interest in destroying the yorishiro too so he'd at least want to help Nene out for that reason... (and Nene is the only one who can destroy them... and she might be destroying the Clock Keepers yorishiro in this visit too... soooo...)

Regardless, I would kinda prefer that Nene helps herself out of this situation... so I'm not in love with this prediction! Feel free to do something totally crazy and unpredictable instead, AidaIro!!! But still, Tsukitty was included in the story for a reason, so we need to figure out why. He has to do something...

...anyyyway, that's all I got for now. Fundamentally I'm expecting lots of shenanigans. And fun! With a tearful ending. 😊 The good stuff. This crazy arc deserves a good send off after all! Thanks for the ask.

#Asks #tbhk spoilers #Jshk #Tbhk

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the-burd-lord · 8 months ago

Text

Heavily inspired by @deafenedsaltwater 's concepts. Idk what was in that post, but it sparked me to make a whole heap of sketches and ideas. Dunno how far I'm gonna roll with this concept, but for now it's rollin kinda far.

Loads of info below:

Four is the math teacher with X as his TA. Four's one of those teachers that really knows the material, but because they know it so well he thinks it should be easy for anyone to get. So they're kinda harsh with the students if they get something wrong.

Whereas X gives more positive reinforcements for students, and isn't as harsh with them. X doesn't know as much of the material, and probably looks to the teacher's textbook if they're lost. One of those teachers who kinda learns with the class.

Airy is the school's nurse and teaches the Home E.C. class, and he's awful at both jobs. When he's not starting fires or teaching the course like it's some kind of wilderness survival camp, he's mainly works as the nurse.

As a nurse, he misdiagnoses things constantly if it's not an obvious injury, and uses a bunch of herbal remedies for the few things he does know how to help with. Mainly scrapes and stomach aches.

Two often times subs in for him when Airy has to take care of a sick student, who often times will fake being sick so they can get Two to teach the class.

MePhone teaches coding and AutoCAD as an extra circular, and probably typing for lower grades. I keep slappin' a bunch of classes onto 'im cause I remember taking so many throughout high and middle school.

He doesn't enjoy teaching coding or typing since he doesn't see them as creative as making actual models for things in AutoCAD, even though the other two can be used creatively. MePad's kinda left to teach those classes despite being a TA.

Also it's a very hands off class where he gives them the basics of how to use the program, and the rest of the class is leaving the students to make whatever thing fits the assignment.

He's the kind of teacher who's real in tune with internet culture and reality tv so he uses a bunch of modern slang phrases or casually gives hot takes on shows if he overhears the students talking about them. Everyone thinks it's cause he wants to be "hip with the kids" when in reality he just has brain rot.

Clock's the history teacher. He discusses each history point with the same tone and enthusiasm, and remembers the years and eras with pinpoint accuracy. Kinda put too much emphasis on the dates, and how long events lasted, over the content of those events.

He's the teacher you can get to go on a long side tangent about something unrelated to the material, but they'd always find a way to bring it back to history.

Idk I also think it'd also be funny if he co-taught an economics class with Four (thinking there'd be a lot of math involved) when it's really more so about theories.

Out of all the teachers, Four and Clock are the most knowledgeable and could probably teach college level courses if they wanted to.

Animatic is the PE teacher with too much energy and gives the harshest workouts but thinks they're easy. Mainly cause he does them alongside the students and always has energy after to run laps around the school. Two would have probably told them to tone it down.

Speaking of-

Two is the health counselor and sub for Home Econ., but also has a bunch of unofficial jobs. They're the unofficial vice principal mainly cause the rest of the speaker boxes are kinda incompetent at their job, and they have to mediate not only students but teachers too (mainly Four and Animatic). As well as sub in for Airy, or even act as a supervisor, when need be.

Some other ones I haven't drawn yet are Daddy Long Legs as the music teacher, Popcorn as the theater teacher, and Hourglass as the English/Literature teacher.

The speaker boxes are the principle/VP/admin. They all kinda interchange with each other, considering how similar they all are also cause they switch out a lot in the original show.

Dunno who the science or art teacher would be, cause I'm mainly going after object shows I've seen. Honestly I may just swap some roles around.

Mainly doing this as a thing for funsies, but boy howdy is it a rapidly rolling snowball.

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detectivehole · 10 months ago

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How can you tell the ghost chicken PETA poster is AI generated? I'm trying to get better at detecting AI images so I would appreciate any advice you might have thank you!

i actually am not 100% certain about the PETA image specifically. i am 90% sure, enough to claim that i think it is, but i want to be fair here- i could be wrong. im not the only person who caught it, but i could be wrong. that being said! i do actually have tips on how to better identify AI generated images. the tips can differ between artistic images and realistic images, but they do overlap

generative AI struggles in three key areas, imo

details

backgrounds

logic

everyone knows the check fingers and teeth, but as the tech improves, those easy indicators have become less reliable (though it still struggles with those features). AI does still flounder with details, though, you just have to look a little closer. checking patterns, textures, and occasionally lighting has been very helpful. it often fails to convincingly make patterned fabrics, and will create inconsistent or unnatural textures on skin, wood, and any other detailed surface. hair especially is a great indicator, since it falls and moves in very specific ways and has a deep level of texture inherently (watching the hair move in very realistic 3d animation can also help you clock it for what it is)

ie. these knives seem to melt into each other

ai seems to prioritize the subject of any generated image, which does make sense, but this often leads to the backgrounds or additional, non-focal aspects to be particularly nonsensical or imperfect on inspection. i struggle to come up with a examples of what exactly to look for here, but i do have a very helpful question to ask yourself when considering whether something is suspicious; in human made art, every aspect is hand made/posed, and the details of any illustration or photography must inherently be considered, at least a little bit. in AI art, no such consideration is taken, because it is incapable of doing do- ask yourself "would a human being do X detail? why? why not?"

ie. these nonsensical wooden details and the warped perspective of the background wall(s?) stand out to me. often the answer will not be a cut and dry "they would never do this," but noticing busted backgrounds is only part of the investigation

this ties into the first two tips, but i think it's worth reiterating that AI often makes illogical choices for how to interpret prompts. it's a pattern recognition machine, not a thinking machine. you know this, we all know this- just looking for things that don't belong or don't make sense can be the first sign something is up

the ghosts are chickens, but what is this meat? thighs maybe, but they almost look like hearts. they certainly don't look like poultry

some other miscellaneous tips

you've probably noticed, but a lot of AI (not all but a lot) has a distinctive style to it now, as generative models cannibalism each others work

companies that use ai usually have a history/reputation for being cheap or untrustworthy, or otherwise are brand new or small (people who want to save as much money as possible)

when generating people, especially realistic people, not only do they tend to have a horrible case of sameface, but they're also often exclusively "attractive" people. idk why. our bias towards beauty, maybe

none of these tips are perfect because a human being could create an AI-like image if they so choose, or i suppose even by accident, but i find them reliable

hope this helps 👍

#mine #ask

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mysteryshoptls · 2 years ago

Text

SSR Deuce Spade - Rabbit Wear Vignette

"To be perfectly honest"

[Clock Town – Deuce's Home]

Ortho: I can't believe you have a fully equipped workshop next door to your home, Deuce Spade-san!

Ortho: Ehehe, I'm excited to think that I might be able to dress up like a white rabbit like everyone else.

Deuce: I didn't expect you to want to dress up like a white rabbit, Ortho.

Deuce: I really hope they'll let us borrow their 3D printer and materials…

Deuce: …Well, guess there's nothing else to do but ring the bell, then.

[buzzes intercom]

Workshop Owner: Yes, hello, who is it?

Deuce: Uh, it's Spade from next door…

Workshop Owner: Spade…? Wait, you're not… DEUCE!?

Deuce: Yes, sir. …It's been a long time.

Deuce: I apologize for this unexpected visit. I was wondering if perhaps we would be able to use some of the equipment you have in your workshop?

Deuce: Of course, we will fully reimburse you for its usage…

Workshop Owner: What did you say…?

Workshop Owner: YOU HAVE SOME NERVE ASKING THAT!

Ortho: EH!? This guy seems really angry…

Workshop Owner: You'd run around with all those punks, causing ruckuses in the middle of the night and destroying all sorts of things…

Workshop Owner: Do you even understand just how much pain and suffering you caused the people of this town?

Workshop Owner: Dylla-san came to apologize for you so many times, but that doesn't mean squat here. Get out of here, already!!!

Deuce: I AM SO SORRY FOR ALL OF THE TROUBLE I CAUSED BACK THEN!!

Deuce: I know that I have no right to make this kind of request. But I really want to help my classmate make a rabbit costume!

Workshop Owner: Your classmate? What does my workshop have to do with their costume, in the first place…?

Ortho: Nice to meet you, I am Ortho Shroud. I'm a humanoid!

Ortho: I'm a classmate of Deuce-san at Night Raven College.

Workshop Owner: A h-humanoid?

Ortho: Yep! I really wanted a white rabbit outfit so that I could take part in the White Rabbit Festival…

Ortho: But I can't wear clothes like a living person can, so I want to make my own special gear to wear.

Workshop Owner: I've seen a few human-like robots in my time, but not one that can as eloquent as you!

Workshop Owner: And on top of that, you want to participate in Clock Town's famed White Rabbit Festival. Hmmm, what should I do…

Workshop Owner: Wait, nope, no way! If I let Deuce use my workshop, he'll totally destroy it!

Ortho: DEUCE SPADE-SAN WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT!!!

Deuce: Ortho…

Ortho: Do you truly believe that Deuce-san would actually come face-to-face to talk to you like this, hoping you'd let down your guard?

Ortho: THERE'S NO WAY DEUCE-SAN IS SMART ENOUGH TO COME UP WITH THAT KIND OF CUNNING STRATEGY!

Workshop Owner: …When you put it that way, I guess it's true that he used to just show up out of nowhere and just tear about.

Workshop Owner: Does that mean you guys truly came here to just ask for the favor of using my workshop?

Ortho: That's right! Please, mister! Please let us use your workshop!!

Workshop Owner: Sigh… Fine. Out of respect for the little humanoid boy, I'll let you use my workshop just this once.

Ortho/Deuce: THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!

Workshop Owner: That doesn't mean I trust you, Deuce. Don't get me wrong.

Workshop Owner: If you get even one scratch on any of my machines, I won't let you get off so easy!!!

Deuce: I understand.

Workshop Owner: Tch… If word got out that I was letting someone like you in, that'd be bad for my own reputation.

Workshop Owner: You don't need to pay anything. Instead, just do what you came to do and leave as fast as you can.

Workshop Owner: Go and enter the shop from the rear entrance. You know where that is, right? Be quick about it.

[slams door]

Ortho: …Deuce Spade-san, are you alright? Even I can tell just from looking at you that you seem down.

Deuce: Maybe it's more… self-loathing than just being down.

Deuce: I enrolled in Night Raven College and have been aiming to be a model student, and I've been trying really hard with my club activities…

Deuce: I thought I had changed a ton, but that doesn't change my past, y'know?

Ortho: By the past, do you mean what he said about "running around with all those punks, causing ruckuses in the middle of the night and destroying all sorts of things"?

Deuce: Uhhhh… Please forget you heard about that! Also, I'd really like it if you didn't tell anyone else what happened just now.

Deuce: And my mom, too… I don't want to cause her any extra worry.

Ortho: Uh-huh, so it's that sort of thing. I got it. I can keep this a secret from the others.

Ortho: But in exchange, I'll have you help me with crating my new gear.

Deuce: Yeah, of course I will. Leave it to me.

Deuce: …But man, you're amazing, Ortho. I can't believe you persuaded him.

Deuce: You saw how angry he was, right? I totally thought he wouldn't let us use his workshop at all.

Ortho: I calculated that since he was running a blastcycle parts shop, then he'd probably have an interest in machines or robots.

Ortho: That's why I tried to appeal to him as a humanoid, to pique his curiosity.

Deuce: …Now that you mention it, I feel like his whole attitude changed when you mentioned you were a humanoid.

Deuce: …You calculated that, huh. I'm not really good at thinking and planning ahead.

Deuce: Even everything that happened just now is the result of me causing trouble for those around me without thinking things through back in middle school…

Ortho: Deuce Spade-san…

Ortho: You can do your thinking later! Right now, we need to get my gear done as quick as possible and go join the others!

Deuce: You're right, especially since he said to be quick about it… Let's hurry before he changes his mind!

[Clock Town – Clock Park]

Deuce: I sent [Yuu] a message saying where and when we're meeting up, but… They haven't read it at all.

Ortho: Maybe they haven't had the time to look at their phone, since Grim-san just keeps dragging them everywhichway.

Deuce: Can't be helped, guess we should go look for them. I wouldn't think they'd have gone that far, though...

???: NOM NOM NOM NOM!! Funyaaa～ I can't get enough of that strong flavor.

Ortho: Ah, that's Grim-san's voice. That saves us from having to search the whole park.

Deuce: Yeah, it helps that Grim's really loud.

Deuce: Heeey! [Yuu], Grim!

Grim: Hm? Oh, it's Deuce. Nice of you to come looking for me!

Deuce: Wrong! You're the one who ran off on your own, so we were all doing our own things right now.

Deuce: So, in about an hour, we're all going to meet up at the stall we were at earlier, okay? You better not be late.

1. I want you to show me around.

Deuce: Eh, me? Can I even do that…? But, sure, I guess. We can check out the area together.

2. We should wander around together!

Deuce: With me? …Yeah, okay!

Grim: Whew, that was delish～

Deuce: Looks like Grim just finished eating, too, so let's head off.

Deuce: [Yuu], is there something you want to see or do?

1. I want to look at souvenirs!

Deuce: I think I saw some stalls selling various stuff. Want to go check them out?

2. I want to move around some to help digest my food.

Deuce: I saw a stall a bit ago that had some kind of mini-game set up. Want to try it out?

Ortho: Sounds fun! I want to go with you guys too.

Deuce: Yeah, come along. That'll make it more lively and fun!

Deuce: They've got a ton of shops set up here, so the four of us can see all sorts of stuff!

[cheering on a street performer]

Grim: Nyahaha, that's so cool! That's way more amazing than Ace's magic tricks!

Deuce: You really like those street performances, huh. It looks like it'll go on for a little bit longer, but… Maybe we should move on now?

Grim: Ehhh, I want to keep watching.

Ortho: I haven't seen many street performances, so I think I'll stay and watch some more too.

Deuce: Okay. Then [Yuu] and I'll head off and check some other places out.

Deuce: We can meet up at where we were earlier when the time comes.

Grim/Ortho: Yeah! / Understood!

Deuce: Okay, then lets head over there.

Passerby A: Oh my, what cute outfits. Are you two from around here?

Deuce: Ah, yes, I'm from here.

Deuce: I just came home to visit with my classmates for the White Rabbit Festival…

Passerby A: Oh, so you're a Clock Town local. Then, I guess there's no need to warn you.

Deuce: Warn me? Eh, did something happen?

Passerby A: Well, not necessarily something, but… you know?

Passerby B: If you're from this city, then you should know, right? That there's been some bad characters running around.

Passerby A: It must have been what, 3… maybe 4 years ago? Anyway, a while ago, this terrible hooligan showed up.

Deuce: A terrible hooligan?

Passerby B: You never heard of them? Well, you two look like you were raised properly, so I suppose I'm not surprised you don't know.

Passerby B: There's this ill-tempered hooligan with bleach-blonde hair and a scary glare who'd ride up and down the city on their blastcycle at breakneck speeds.

Passerby A: I heard that whenever they got into a fight, they'd summon a cauldron and squash their opponents flat. Aah, so scary!

Deuce: URK!

Passerby B: I haven't heard anything about them recently, but… I can't imagine such a horrible hoodlum would've been able to fix their behavior.

Passerby A: Same. It was so bad that there even was a police officer who would always go on patrol even when off-duty.

Passerby A: Anyway, they are a troublesome delinquent. You two, take care so you don't get caught in their crosshairs.

Deuce: R-Right… Thank you.

Deuce: Whew, they finally left. Those ladies were really something.

1. That story just now… 2. Was that…

Deuce: Urgh, and I was trying to change the topic…

Deuce: Well, whatever. It's just you here, anyway.

Deuce: I think the person those ladies were talking about earlier was me.

Deuce: It's been a while since I enrolled in Night Raven College, but… I'm still being talked about.

Deuce: "I can't imagine they'd be able to fix their behavior" …Hm.

1. Even though we can see that's not true.

Deuce: Are you trying to cheer me up? Thanks, [Yuu].

2. It's hard to gain people's trust.

Deuce: You're right, it's just as you say.

Deuce: …Actually, I was told the same thing just a bit ago when Ortho and I went to the workshop next door to my house.

Deuce: I guess both the people who have met me before and those who haven't don't think that I could ever have fixed myself up.

Deuce: …But I have people outside of my family that believe in me.

Deuce: Remember what those ladies said? There was a police officer who would go on patrol even when they were off-duty.

Deuce: They worked over there… In the police station across the street from the park. And for some reason, they actually looked out for me.

1. Does that person still work at that police station?

Deuce: Nah, they transferred to a different city some time ago. I hear they've climbed the ranks and is some big wig now.

2. Let's go show them how much you've changed!

Deuce: As much as I'd like to… Deuce: They transferred to a different city some time ago. I hear they've climbed the ranks and is some big wig now.

Deuce: Isn't that awesome, though!? I wish I could have said bye to them back when they transferred, but… Back then I was just too hard-headed.

Deuce: I had decided that if I ever got to meet that person again someday, I would show them just how much I had cleaned myself up…

Deuce: But it hasn't really gone as planned.

Deuce: Even today, I wanted you guys to enjoy yourselves in my hometown…

Deuce: But I don't know anything about my city, and can't even show you around properly.

Deuce: And it wasn't until Epel said that I didn't have enough pride in my hometown, that I thought I should study up on the place…

Deuce: I thought I had changed, but maybe I haven't grown up after all.

1. That's not true… 2. (I don't know what to say...)

Deuce: Sorry! I didn't mean to talk about this sort of thing when we're at a festival.

Deuce: It's almost time to meet up with everyone else. Let's head back there.

[Clock Town – Clock Park]

―After the conflict with the Black Bunnies

Deuce: Okay, then I'll go register us, so everyone wait here.

Ortho/Epel: Got it.

Silver: Right.

Grim: I'll go with you. I worry leaving it to you alone, Deuce.

1. Yeah, I agree. 2. I'll go too.

Deuce: I don't know how I feel about Grim worrying about me, but… Thanks for coming with.

Dylla: The registration for the Rabbit Run Race is near the entrance to the park.

Dylla: All three of you, take care over there.

Deuce: There's the entrance to the park. Uhh, let's see, where's registration…?

Grim: Isn't that it?

Deuce: You're right… EH!?

Deuce: There's a line. There's a lot more people doing this than I thought there'd be…

Deuce: Well, whatever. Let's just line up at the very back.

???: WHAT SHOULD WE DO? AT THIS RATE, WE CAN'T REGISTER FOR THE RACE!

Grim: What's goin' on?

Workshop Employee: I thought I put it in my bag, but… My rabbit ears, where could I have left them?

Workshop Owner: Rabbit ears? Oh… Do you mean the headband that was left on the 3D printer back at the workshop?

Workshop Owner: Even if we were to run back to the shop now, we won't make it back in time to register...

Workshop Owner: It's a shame, but I guess we have to give up on participating in the race this year.

Deuce: On a 3D printer in the workshop… Ah, maybe it's the one I saw when Ortho and I were working on the printer just a while ago?

Deuce: Maybe… Maybe I can help her out with magic.

Deuce: I never got to thank him for using the workshop, either… I guess I can go talk to them.

Deuce: Ah, excuse me.

Workshop Employee: Yes? …Eek, Deuce-kun!?

Workshop Owner: Now what do you want? What, are you trying to harm my employee or something?

Deuce: No, not at all! I overheard that she left her headband, and…

Deuce: I'll summon it for you with magic! That way, you can register for the race, right?

Workshop Owner: You'll summon it with magic? Can someone like you who only has the brains to cause havoc really do something like that?

Deuce: I'm not that confident, but I think I can at least summon… But I still mess that up sometimes, too… But I'm going to try!

Grim: …I don't know how good this’ll go.

Deuce: Sh-Shut it! I have to focus, so be quiet.

Deuce: [inhale, exhale] …

Deuce: COME FORTH, RABBIT EAR HEADBAND!!

[rabbit ear headband magically appears]

Deuce: It's the same design as the one I saw in the workshop earlier. That means…

1. Congrats! 2. You did it!

Deuce: Yeah! I'm so glad it worked out.

Deuce: This is your headband, right? Please accept it.

Workshop Employee: …

Grim: This lady's completely frozen in her tracks… Maybe she's terrified of you!!

Deuce: Eh!? Oh no, is it because I just suddenly called out to you? Sorry, I shouldn't have done that…

Workshop Owner: I can't believe that that Deuce just successfully summoned something, and even took care to think of my employee's feelings…

[FLASHBACK]

Dylla: Hey, listen to this! Deuce has been really motivated ever since enrolling in Night Raven College.

Dylla: Just the other day, he sent me a picture of a certificate that he won as an award at a track meet.

Dylla: It… does look like he's having a bit of a hard time with his studies and magic, though. But he's doing is best in the only way he knows how.

Dylla: And recently, he's been really considerate, saying stuff like, "Aren't you tired?" and "Don't push yourself too hard"…

Dylla: Sounds like he's made some good friends, too. I'm truly happy that he's enjoying himself every single day over there.

Workshop Owner: …Looks like Dylla-san was telling the truth.

Deuce: Eh? Did my mom say something?

Workshop Owner: Yeah. She said that you had a change of heart and are doing your best now.

Deuce: My mom said that…?

Workshop Owner: Honestly, I couldn't believe that you actually cleaned yourself up, no matter what Dylla-san said…

Workshop Owner: You've convinced me, Deuce. Thanks to you, my coworkers and I can enter the race.

Deuce: Since I couldn't thank you earlier for letting us use your workshop… I'm glad that I was able to be of help here.

Workshop Owner: Oh, don't worry, there's still a lot that you need to pay me back for.

Workshop Owner: But for today, you did good. Hey now, you thank him, too!

Workshop Employee: …Thank you for helping me. And, sorry for being scared of you!

Deuce: And I'm sorry for suddenly calling out to you and scaring you, too.

Workshop Owner: You're going to join the race too, right? Let's all do our best!

Deuce: YES, SIR!

Deuce: I "convinced" him… Huh.

1. You did it! 2. That's great.

Deuce: Yeah. I was worried that I hadn't matured at all, but… Thanks to that, I'm feeling a bit better.

Deuce: To be perfectly honest, I planned on just coming back here by myself.

Deuce: After swinging by to see my mom and the festival real quick, I was just going to jump on my blastcycle and go for a ride.

Deuce: If you, Grim or the others hadn't come with, I don't think I would have had a chance to talk with people in town.

Deuce: So… Uh, yeah, thanks for coming here with me!

Grim: Heheh, least I could do.

Deuce: For everyone who came here with me... And also for my mom, there's no way that I can lose this race.

Deuce: We'll definitely win! [Yuu], watch me go!

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #deuce spade #epel felmier #ortho shroud #dylla spade #twst deuce #twst epel #twst ortho #twst silver #twst grim #twst translation #twst white rabbit festival #mention: ace

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frillyfacefins · 4 months ago

Text

Solving Engineering Problems Fizzarolli-Style! (Ozzie/Fizzarolli)

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ozzie/Fizzarolli Tags: Fisting, Weird genitals, Ozzie Receiving, Office Sex, using robot limbs for recreational purposes, post season 2 ep 7 Word Count: 2623

Also on AO3

Summary:

Ozzie has been working on a new kind of toy for ages and it Just. Won't. Work. Fizz might not know much about theoretical robotic engineering, but he knows that having an orgasm or two has never been a bad solution to any problem.

The problem hadn't been with the actuator, that much Ozzie had figured out by now. But that didn't really get him anywhere with this issue — he just kept ruling out any cause he came up with. If neither the actuator, the servo control nor the manipulator were working any different than he had modeled during the conception phase, then why didn't the joints retract in the way his original calculations had predicted?

He had no idea how long he had been working. When the door of his office suddenly opened, he could have sworn that he had only just sat down to redo his calculations with the new variables from the last prototype test cycle.

Fizz sprang at him like the little jack-in-the-box he was, landing on the edge of his desk with an acrobat's precision. "Heey, boss-man," he said, tilting his head in a way that made the small, silver bells on his hat jiggle. He was already in his PJs, so it had to be at least midnight, but he wasn't wearing the matching hat yet. He recognized the jingly hat as one Fizz had designed a while ago. With as many different kinds of artisans as Ozzie employed, both in the sex toy company and at the club, there was never a shortage of people who could turn any fashion idea Fizzy had into reality within a day or two.

If it would only be as easy to get this blasted prototype to work...

"Hey Froggy," he said with a sigh. He suddenly felt exhausted. He really had been here a whole while, hadn't he... But he couldn't imagine that he was going to be able to sleep before he had solved this issue.

Fizz let out a little imp purr and nuzzled Ozzie's arm, making the bells on it rub against his feathers and jingle gently. Ozzie sighed and put down the stylus he was using to work on his tablet, then he plucked Fizz off the edge of his desk and put him on his shoulder. Fizz chuckled and immediately nuzzled his goat head. "Hey there, big daddy..." he cooed. "Are you still working on that magic fist of yours?"

Ozzie turned his head so he could nuzzle his beak against Fizzarolli's belly. His nightshirt hadn't been washed in a while; he'd likely switch to a fresh one tomorrow, but Ozzie found the scent extremely comforting. It reminded him of waking up with his Fizzy by his side — the few times he managed to actually wake up before the alarm clock made Fizz jump out of bed as if somebody had lit his tail on fire and then come down from that jump with his latest annoying noise-maker. Those mornings were precious, not only because they were rare, and right now he wanted nothing more than to go to his bedroom with his Fizzy-frog and nuzzle against his warm, tiny body until he fell asleep...

But he knew himself too well to believe he could just leave his work undone until tomorrow.

"It works perfectly well during the first two sequences," he muttered against Fizzy's nightshirt. "It goes in without issues, the probing works fine, but when all five fingers are in and it's supposed to make a fist for the final part, the joints don't engage properly and then I've got a half-closed fist pistonning in and out of the model... At one point it even ripped part of the rubber column, which..." He made a face. "Not ideal for anybody who can theoretically die.”

Fizz held his own hand out and made a few variations on a fist, maybe to better imagine what Ozzie was talking about. Ozzie reached out to adjust his fingers in the exact position that gave him issues — knuckle joints properly bent, but the second joint only bending halfway, and the last one not at all. Fizz stared at his hand for a moment, then he started to move it up and down very fast, before he finally grinned. "Yeah, I can see that that wouldn't increase your customer retention rates."

He looked down at the diagrams and readouts in front of Ozzie. "How long have you been working on this now?"

Ozzie shrugged. "What time is it?"

Fizz nodded to the two uneaten trays of food standing on the sideboard below their couple portrait. Ozzie didn't need to eat and often didn't, but he still liked the regularity of having his meals at the same time every day. Usually his servants brought enough for two people, so Ozzie could eat with Fizz if his little lover had enough time on his robotic hands to have lunch or dinner together.

Fizzarolli had been occupying himself today, since he knew that Ozzie was working on a dicey problem, so Ozzie had just completely ignored both supper around late afternoon and dinner in the later evening. He must have come to his office around mid-afternoon, after trial round thirty-seven still hadn't shown any improvement, though he couldn't really remember exactly.

"The first shifts at the clubs are already over, so I decided to get in my jammies. You know how it is with Wednesdays."

Wednesdays were generally pretty slow, which didn't make a lot of sense since there was no such thing as a 'weekend' in hell.

After the whole dust-up with Mammon, Fizz had asked to take over more responsibility in Ozzie's businesses. He was a great MC, he'd done a general manager's tasks at Ozzie's before, and he was an extremely competent personal assistant, so Ozzie was happy to let him manage the rest of the clubs and bars Ozzie owned, both officially and unofficially. Of course Fizz was also still rep'ing Ozzie's Factory products, which meant a lot of photo shoots and media stuff, but that didn't seem to be quite enough for his energetic little energizer bunny. He had tried to "take it easy" for a little while after the contest, but he had quickly become restless. And hey, with how competent Fizz was in pretty much everything he put his mind to, Ozzie felt like he could trust him with taking over more responsibilities as his business partner.

Ozzie put one hand on Fizz' back so he could push him forward a little, giving him better access to nuzzle against his belly. "I wish I could come and cuddle up with you," he sighed, "but I really need to get this fucking thing to work..."

Fizz gave his head a little pat, then he let out a little humming noise. "You know... Maybe I could help you jog your noggin'..."

One of his hands started to travel down Ozzie's side, his arm stretching as it made its way to his thigh.

Ozzie sighed, though he did lean back a little and spread his thighs to give Fizz ready access. "Your robotics don't work the same way as this toy, babe. They're connected to your nervous system, after all."

He could feel Fizz shrug. "I could still take your mind off the problem, right?" His metallic, but warm fingers slipped under Ozzie's skirt and ran over the slip that kept his cock hidden. He mostly didn't give much thought to what shape he gave his genitals when he wasn't actively about to fuck somebody, but the whole retractable-penis thing some of Levi's people had going on was honestly more convenient than a pussy, especially since he didn't really care for underwear that didn't have the explicit purpose of being seen. When he was doing this kind of work, he usually just put on whatever was most comfortable, which was mostly a shirt, a skirt, and some nice stockings.

"I mean, I'm not going to say no," he said. The day he'd stop his little impy darling from giving him pleasure just because he needed to do paperwork would be the day he'd have to give up his role as the Sin of Lust, as far as he was concerned. He let out a deep sigh at the expert way Fizz fingered his slit open and then slowly coaxed his cock out. This kind of dick was softer than what he usually preferred, but it was also far more mobile. He let the nearly tentacle-like appendix curl around Fizz' fingers, using just a little bit of magic to make the smooth skin ooze with wetness.

Fizz chuckled. He had slung one arm around Ozzie's mane and was skillfully opening the buttons of his shirt with that hand, while his other one scooped up copious amounts of slick and moved them farther down to the second opening Ozzie's body had in this shape. The shape and physiology of this entrance was pretty close to a succubus' anus, more sensitive than that of an imp, but also somewhat more resilient and easier to stretch. Ozzie leaned back farther and then put one of his hooves on the table in front of him, so Fizz had easier access. Fizz fingered more and more slick into his hole, teasing the rim and finger-fucking him every once in a while before he went back to his oozing cock and slit to get more lube.

Taking all of Fizz' fist was not really a big deal for Ozzie, of course, but he still enjoyed getting fisted quite a lot. Depending on his own physical size, Fizzarolli's fist could be pleasantly filling or fun like a magic bullet. His hands did have a few special features that Ozzie had added to later models on Fizz' request, and while they wouldn't wreck havoc inside of him, he could at least count on a pretty intense orgasm.

Also, he just loved it when his little imp lover took the lead. He sighed with the pleasure that flowed from Fizz into him, feeding on his desire while he closed his eyes and just gave himself over to those clever robotic hands.

After a minute or two, Fizzarolli apparently judged his hole to be wet enough to continue. He nuzzled the side of his main head, purring softly as he pushed two fingers into Ozzie and scissored him open, which went pretty easily with all the slick helping him along and the second- and first-hand desire making Ozzie's body wonderfully relaxed.

"Have I ever told you how much I love the way you feel around my fingers, Ozz?" Fizzarolli whispered. "I love that you gave me those fingers, and that you went to the trouble to make them feel as much as they do... I love feeling the movement of your muscles run up my arm and how easy my fingers slide inside of you..."

He rubbed his head against Ozzie's while another two fingers found its way into Ozzie's open, inviting hole. Ozzie sighed, leaning back just a little farther and arranging both of his hooves on the desk. "You're so clever with those fingers, too," he rumbled. "Couldn't have asked for a better user... You're so creative with everything you do, nobody could use those limbs as well as you..."

Fizzarolli chucked and playfully pushed his thumb in between his other fingers. "Lifetime as a circus performer... I'm glad I get to use my flexibility for your pleasure, daddy~"

His knuckles were right at the entrance now, and Ozzie was finally feeling the pleasant stretch that he usually only got to enjoy when they were playing with toys. Ozzie closed his eyes with a sigh and gave himself over to the sensations around him, the thick, savory perfume of Fizzarolli's lust, the fine fragrance of Fizzarolli's sweat and the stronger scent of his own slick, the weight of Fizz on his shoulder and the hardness of his metal hand between his legs...

Fizz' free hand was rubbing through his slit, teasing the base of his cock, which kept trying to wrap around that playful hand. His other hand was now completely breaching Ozzie's entrance, his hand moving upward in the last position his fisting toy could do without issue. He could feel Fizz spreading his hand inside of him, rubbing over his inner walls. Ozzie started breathing harder, feeling his own body twitching every time Fizz found an especially nice spot.

"Hmm... You're squeezing me so tight," Fizz whispered. "I wonder if you could break a flesh hand with your cunt... Finger bones are such a delicate thing, aren't they?" He moved his hand to let the palm face Ozzie's front wall, his finger tips rubbing over Ozzie's sensitive nerves like a dream. He could feel himself becoming hotter and hotter — becoming more and more himself, without the complications of physical space.

He could feel Fizz grin against the spot he was nuzzling by the side of his head, and a millisecond later his fingers started to vibrate.

Ozzie thrust his hips upwards so hard that he would likely have dislodged Fizz if his little lover wasn't literally stuck inside of him. Fuck, that felt good... He had been resistant to add this feature, which was standard for the Robo-Fizzes, to Fizzarolli's own robot hands, since he had been afraid Fizz would feel like a toy for Ozzie. But Fizz had insisted, telling him that it wasn't just to make Ozzie feel good, but also to add to his own fun when they were playing, so he had finally relented.

And yeah, that had been a very, very good decision on his part.

He felt himself melt into pleasure with every up-and-down motion of Fizz' hand. When Fizz finally smacked his lips, whispered: "And now the grand finale" in his ear and then folded his hand into a fist, Ozzie let out a shout like a raging bull. Fizz had to clasp Ozzie's thigh with his free hand to keep his position despite his bucking, especially when he started to make his hand piston up and down Ozzie's hole like a jackhammer.

Ozzie came with a gush of liquid spilling out of his slid and his entire body glowing with pleasure. His shout had to be loud enough for the succubi in the offices far below this level of the tower to hear. He came in several waves, drenching the floor under his desk as well as a good portion of his chair.

Just when the last wave of his orgasm hit, the clouds in front of his eyes suddenly parted. Out of nowhere, he realized what the problem with his fisting toy was.

His eyes were open in a flash, and before Fizzarolli even had a chance to pull out of him, he put his hooves back on the ground, grabbed one of the blueprints and a pen and started to write like a man possessed.

"Ozzie... Hey, Ozzie!"

It took him several minutes to realize that Fizz was trying to get his attention. It was painful to stop writing, but he forced himself to and looked over at the imp on his shoulder.

"Yeah?" he asked, somewhat dazed.

Fizzarolli grinned. "Can I have my hand back?"

Ozzie looked down — sure enough, with his legs closed again, getting his hand out would be pretty difficult for Fizz.

But also he couldn't waste a second right now, or his idea would be gone before he had put it to paper.

"Would you mind just staying like this for a little while?" he asked. "I just had a breakthrough and I really need to write this down."

Fizz looked at him with surprise for a moment, then he let out a laugh and finally nodded. He arranged his free arm, which he had retracted by now, around Ozzie's mane, letting his bullhead lick off the sticky, cooling slick. "Sure, big daddy. After all, I couldn't imagine a more luxurious hand warmer."

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