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hivemuthur · 5 months ago

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The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch. 2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 4,3K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: Reader is a second-year science student that had just switched schools to escape the suffocating love of her parents and Viktor is being a black cat all the way through. A 12-chapter story of two emotionally problematic people falling in love through acknowledging each other's imperfections.

author's note: This is less introspective than my other fics, attempts to be lighter and funny at times. World is completely made up, even though contains some real things in it. Viktor's disability is present, but decreased (no back brace and breathing affliction). I will soon create fic masterlist and pin it on my blog and will be linking chapters with future updates.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

You sat wedged between a hot, doe-eyed girl named Sue who was going to be your roommate, and some skinny guy whose name you hadn’t caught—Callum, maybe? Your friend Hale had ditched you to join his theatre group on the other side of the campus, leaving you to navigate introductions with your new course mates alone. Changing universities mid-degree was stressful, but staying back in Sheffield with your parents had been worse. So, yes, it had been the right call. A very good call, you reminded yourself.

Camden had a tiny science department with a handful of brilliant professors. It wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t Sheffield. And it had Hale, who had convinced you to come down south with promises of freedom, self-discovery, and the chance to reclaim your status as the unstoppable friend power-couple you’d been in high school (not that you had mattered at all back then, of course).

The room buzzed with overlapping conversations and sporadic bursts of laughter, the faint thrum of inoffensive pop music humming from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner. The second-year welcome party was more like a casual gathering, hosted in one of the university lounges with just enough couches and harsh fluorescent lighting to feel awkwardly cozy. You sipped from a plastic cup of lukewarm cider, your attention flitting between three different conversations happening around you.

To your left, Jayce was in the middle of an animated retelling of how he’d nearly blown up a lab during his undergrad years. His booming laugh and sweeping hand gestures kept everyone engaged, even those who had only half-heard the setup to his punchline. You found yourself smiling despite having missed most of the story. You vaguely recalled his introduction earlier in the evening—Jayce, one of the TAs for your course this year. From Sheffield, like you. Big personality, bigger grin.

On your right stood Viktor, the second TA, his hands resting lightly on his cane. He exuded a quieter kind of presence, his sharp amber eyes scanning the group with an air of detached curiosity. He’d joined the circle mid-conversation, offering the occasional dry comment that earned chuckles from those paying attention.

“You’re training to be a geneticist?” Viktor asked, leaning slightly toward you. His accent caught you off guard—it was Slavic, you thought, though you weren’t confident enough to guess further. You made a mental note to ask him about it one day.

You blinked, surprised to be addressed. “Oh, yeah,” you replied quickly, nodding. “Second year. Still deciding whether I want to focus on medical or research applications, though.” You paused. “You’re in bioengineering for your PhD, right?”

“Correct,” Viktor said with a slight upward quirk of his lips. “It is refreshing to meet someone undecided. Most claim they will change the world before finishing their first term.”

You laughed nervously, unsure if he was mocking you or just making an observation. “Yeah, I’m saving that for third year.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his expression hovering somewhere between amused and sceptical. “Ambitious,” he said dryly.

Before you could respond, Jayce turned toward you, pulling the group’s focus with him. “What about you? Have you had Professor Albin yet? He’s a character, let me tell you. Loves his experiments more than his students.”

You grinned, drawn into the shift in energy. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about him. But wait, is he the one who smokes under the laboratory fume hood?”

Jayce snapped his fingers in mock recognition. “Exactly! Last year, he almost caused the whole building to evacuate because he didn’t realise the hood was broken.”

The group erupted into laughter. You found yourself relaxing, leaning into the easy rhythm of the conversation. You missed the glance Viktor cast your way, faintly bemused.

He cleared his throat, a subtle gesture that drew only a few eyes. “Albin may be forgetful, but he has published groundbreaking work on single-cell RNA sequencing. One might forgive the eccentricities, no?”

The remark hung in the air for a beat, slightly out of sync with the conversation’s playful tone. Jayce, quick to keep the mood light, grinned and waved it off. “True, but it doesn’t make his lectures any less painful.”

The laughter resumed, bubbling back up with ease. You smiled, but something about Viktor’s expression lingered in your mind—a subtle tightness around his mouth, almost imperceptible but impossible to ignore once noticed.

You thought to say something, maybe steer the conversation back toward him, but Jayce was already pulling your attention with another question, his energy impossible to resist. The moment slipped away, and with it, that fleeting glimpse of something unreadable in Viktor’s eyes.

The party dispersed shortly after midnight, and you went to find Hale for the promised cigarette and your earlier-agreed session of impression comparing. You spotted him by the fountain, his tall figure hunched over in his velvet vest, already smoking.

“My darling!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide in a theatrical flourish. “So, spill the tea—how was it? Anyone hot? Anyone you already hate? Good decision? Bad decision?”

“Uh… Can I bum a fag? I forgot my pack in the room.” You patted your pockets distractedly as Hale swept you into his arms, spinning you around dramatically. He placed his own cigarette between your lips with a flourish.

“I’m going to burst if you don’t tell me right now. Your mother already hates me—I need to know you don’t hate me too!”

“Joanne is going to be fine,” you replied, rolling your eyes but letting yourself be twirled in your exaggerated tango. “She already sent me, like, a thousand affirmations for my ‘new beginnings.’”

Hale dipped you low, grinning. “And?”

“I… don’t know,” you sighed as he held you in the dramatic pose. “It’s a bunch of nerds, like me, so I guess I’ll be alright.”

Hale gave you a pointed look, his brow furrowing. “You are not just some nerd. You are brilliant, and they are not ready for you.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his voice gentle but firm.

“Alright, alright,” you muttered, waving him off with a small smile. “Full report is as follows: Sue, my roommate—hot and completely oblivious about it. Nobody else really standing out. It’s an even mix of guys and girls.” You started pacing along the edge of the fountain, ticking details off on your fingers. “We’ve got two TAs: one would make you drool, and the other one would make you run for your life.”

“I have to meet them both,” Hale declared with a dramatic flourish, grinning mischievously.

Hale twirled you one last time before pulling you upright with exaggerated care. “You’re lucky I’m such a gracious dance partner, darling,” he said, letting you go with a flourishing bow.

You laughed and brushed your hair out of your face. “Oh, you’re too kind. I didn’t know you’d start your evening in full drama mode.”

Hale smirked, looping his arm through yours as you strolled around the fountain. The air was crisp, the faint glow of the nearby building lights reflecting off the water. “I’m always in drama mode. You know this. Now, tell me—what’s the plan tomorrow? More parties? Some secret nerd ritual?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your shoulder. “Yes, we are totally raising someone from the dead tomorrow,” you smirked. “The TAs are swinging by each room tomorrow to hand out schedules and do a quick orientation. Viktor mentioned it tonight in passing.”

Hale gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Viktor, you say? Is that the one who would make me drool or the one who’d send me running for my life?”

You laughed. “The latter. He’s got this whole ‘intimidating genius’ vibe going on, but I can’t tell if he’s just really smart or if he practices those broody stares in the mirror.”

“Oh, I have to meet this man,” Hale said with a gleam in his eye, spinning you around. “And what about the one who’d make me drool?”

“That’s Jayce,” you replied. “Big, loud, charming. Like a golden retriever who also happens to be jacked and into science.”

Hale pretended to swoon, leaning on you for support. “Be still, my heart. This place might actually be worth sticking around for.”

You smirked, brushing ash off your borrowed cigarette. “Speaking of sticking around, how was your night? Any tragic love stories waiting to happen?”

Hale shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Same old faces, same old dramas. Nothing new. Nobody around here who could really crush my heart, but you know me—I’ll eat anything when I’m starved.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s the spirit. Settle for mediocrity!”

“It’s a survival skill, darling,” Hale replied, grinning as he plucked the cigarette from your fingers and took a long drag.

You walked in silence for a moment, your steps slow and unhurried. You glanced at the fountain, its gentle ripples catching the light, and exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I think it was a good decision,” you said softly, breaking the quiet.

Hale raised an eyebrow, handing the cigarette back to you. “Camden? Or letting me drag you here tonight?”

“Both,” you admitted, a small smile playing at your lips. “Thanks for making me come. For once, I actually feel… scared of something. Not stuck.”

Hale’s expression softened, and he threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “That’s because you’re brilliant, and the world doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into the gesture, taking one last drag of the cigarette before flicking it into the fountain.

“Here’s to not being stuck,” Hale declared, lifting an imaginary glass.

“To not being stuck,” you echoed, laughing as the two of you turned and headed back toward the dorms.

***

The sound that woke you and Sue was impossible to describe—a cacophony of metal being violently banged together, accompanied by a high-pitched whining noise. Then came loud banging on the door.

A soft groan came from Sue’s bed as she rolled out, stretching her limbs before sinking onto the floor and curling into a foetal position. “I think it’s the TAs,” she said weakly, yawning.

You decided to be brave, though your first instinct was to shove a pillow over your head and wait for the monster to go away. Dragging yourself out of bed, your head pounding from the cider and cigarettes you’d had with Hale the night before, you trudged to the door. Your expression was one of pure pleading as you opened it and asked, “Is this really how you guys want to start this relationship?”

In front of you, Jayce froze mid-motion, one frying pan held in each hand. Viktor stood just behind him, clutching a bicycle horn and smirking mercilessly.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Jayce boomed, lowering the frying pans slightly but keeping his grin firmly in place, like a weapon. “Ready to seize the day?”

You squinted, shielding your eyes from the hallway light as though it were a personal attack. “Seize the day? I’m about to seize your frying pans and toss them out the window.”

Jayce laughed, completely unbothered, while Viktor raised the bicycle horn and gave it a sharp honk. “Consider it your wake-up call,” Viktor said smoothly, his smirk deepening. “Promptness is a virtue, no?”

“I’m promptly considering murder,” you muttered, glaring at them both.

Behind you, Sue groaned from her spot on the floor. “I’m not coming out. Tell them I’m dead.”

Jayce leaned sideways to peer into the room. “Good morning to you too, Sue!” he called cheerfully.

“Sod off,” Sue replied, her voice muffled by her arm.

Viktor glanced at Jayce, shaking his head slightly as though disapproving of his partner’s antics. Then he turned his attention back to you. “We are here to distribute schedules and perform a brief orientation,” he said, his tone more measured but no less smug. “You should be grateful. Only the science department students receive such... personal service.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I feel so special. Is banging cookware a requirement of this personal service, or is it just a special treat for us?”

“Just for you,” Jayce said with a wink. “And hey, it worked, didn’t it? You’re awake.”

You sighed, stepping back to let them into the room. “Fine. Come in. But if you touch anything, I’m calling security.”

Jayce sauntered in like he owned the place, plopping the frying pans onto the desk with a loud clang. Viktor followed more quietly, his eyes sweeping the room in a quick, assessing glance. He placed the bicycle horn next to the pans, the absurdity of the scene making you shake your head in disbelief.

“You’re like two chaotic sitcom characters,” you said, rubbing your temples. “And I’m the poor, sleep-deprived protagonist who has to deal with your nonsense.”

Jayce grinned. “I like to think of myself as the lovable goofball.”

“And Viktor’s the straight man?” you guessed, glancing at him.

Viktor’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he handed you a neatly folded piece of paper. “Your schedule,” he said. “I trust you can manage to read it despite your current... condition.” He gave you a once-over and added, “Nice pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself, remembering too late that you were wearing red cotton pants with white hearts and an oversized Nirvana sweatshirt. It was a damn nice set of pyjamas—what was the problem? You snatched the paper from him, your mouth twitching into a reluctant smile despite yourself. “Thanks. I’ll try not to faint from gratitude.”

“Much appreciated,” Viktor replied dryly.

Sue, still sprawled on the floor, finally raised her head and groaned. “Do we at least get coffee with this torture?”

Jayce perked up. “Now that’s an idea! Viktor, we should’ve brought coffee.”

“I am not your barista,” Viktor deadpanned.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the morning starting to chip away at your hangover. “Alright, alright. Give us five minutes, and we’ll join the rest of the poor souls you’ve terrorized this morning.”

“Make it three,” Viktor said, his smirk returning as he turned toward the door.

Jayce followed with a wave. “See you downstairs!”

As the door closed behind them, you turned to Sue, who was now sitting up, her hair a wild mess.

“So,” you said, leaning against the door. “Drool-worthy or run-for-your-life?”

Sue blinked, still half-asleep. “What?”

“The TAs,” you clarified, holding back a grin. “Jayce and Viktor. What’s the verdict?”

Sue rubbed her eyes, yawning. “Jayce is like a golden retriever on caffeine. Viktor... is something else. Sharp. Kinda scary. But, like, in a hot way?”

You snorted, tossing the schedule onto your desk. “I’m just trying to survive their weird buddy cop energy.”

Sue flopped back onto the floor with a groan. “Wake me up when it’s over.”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s never over, Sue. Welcome to Camden.”

***

Orientation and the first classes passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and information overload. By the time the fifth person introduced themselves, you’d already forgotten the first three names. Professor Heimerdinger, perched at the front of the lab like an animated encyclopaedia, launched into an overview of the semester: rules for grades and exams, expectations for in-class behaviour, and a note about optional after-class activities for the particularly ambitious—or masochistic.

You braced yourself for the inevitable repeat classes like chemistry and biophysics, but it didn’t bother you. Repetition wasn’t so bad if you could zone out without missing much.

Jayce and Viktor drifted through the room during the lecture, their presence oddly complementary—one buzzing with boundless energy, the other moving with deliberate precision. They pointed out key locations: lab glass, gloves, coats, goggles, and the cabinets you’d definitely forget the moment you walked out. They handed out maps of the department and listed their office hours. Standard procedure. Functional. Dandy.

When it was finally over, Sue nudged you, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Wanna head to the bar nearby?”

“You want to drink again?” You raised an eyebrow, though her expression hinted at ulterior motives.

Sue tilted her head, all innocence. “Or… maybe I want to go to the bar to spy on our TAs,” she said, her gaze trailing after Jayce and Viktor as they left the room.

You sighed, exasperated but amused. “By my calculations, we have about a week to live before we’re buried in coursework.”

“Exactly! We should enjoy it while it lasts.” Sue clasped her hands together and unleashed the puppy eyes. “Please?” she added, her lower lip quivering with Oscar-worthy conviction.

You rolled your eyes, defeated. “I am genuinely terrified of you. And convinced I’ll never be able to say no to you. Fine. One condition: I get to drag Hale along.”

“Is Hale your hot theatre friend?” Sue’s excitement was palpable, her grin wide enough to make you laugh.

“Yes, and he’s also gay, so don’t get your hopes up. He’ll break your heart,” you warned, pulling out your phone to text him.

“I am desperate for a gay boyfriend, so please drag him along whenever you feel like it,” Sue replied, already on her feet, coat slung over her arm.

Your phone buzzed almost instantly: I know the place – seedy shithole. Be there in no time! Hale’s response sealed the deal. You were officially going to a bar to “spy” on your TAs.

The bar was, indeed, a seedy shithole, but it had a quirky charm. Posters plastered the walls, advertising plays, gigs, and questionable student endeavours. Lamps made of beer bottles cast a dim, golden light, and the furniture was an eclectic mix—like someone had raided every grandmother’s attic in a three-mile radius. A fireplace crackled in one corner, surrounded by mismatched cushions for floor seating, and a jukebox stood proudly by the bar, humming with potential.

You approached the bar with Sue, scanning the menu. Sue’s brows furrowed in confusion as she searched for something that wasn’t beer. The bartender, a man with a weathered face and a disarming smile, leaned in. “What can I do for you, honey?”

Sue’s voice turned soft and sweet, almost like a fairy casting a spell. “Do you have anything… sweet?”

The bartender paused, giving her a look like he’d climb mountains to fetch whatever she wanted. For a moment, you wondered if he might actually run to another bar, buy something sugary, and bring it back. The thought made you chuckle as you watched Sue charm her way to a perfect drink.

“Let me surprise you,” the bartender said, flashing Sue a sweet smile before turning to you. “And for you, darling?”

“I’ll just have a pint, cheers,” you replied, your gaze lingering on the heartwarming interaction between the adorable Sue and the massive, tattooed bartender.

“Ah! Let me get this,” you registered an arm sliding between you and Sue, holding a credit card. “Since we forgot the coffees this morning,” Jayce’s familiar grin soon followed, putting a face to the offering hand.

“I’ll be the one buying drinks for my pookie today,” a strong arm wrapped around your neck and shoulders, and you immediately recognized Hale’s voice from above you. “Let me guess… drool-worthy and”—his eyes shifted toward Viktor—“run-for-your-life?”

“I’ve also been called ‘the straight man,’” Viktor remarked, giving you a questioning look.

“Ah, I can see why,” Hale replied, on the verge of ruining your chances for any semblance of dignity this semester. Then he turned to Sue. “And you must be the hot Sue?”

“Oh my god, did you say that?” Sue squeaked playfully, leaning over to grab your hand. “I think you’re hot too,” she added with a wink.

You wanted to sink deep underground and let the demons of hell swallow you whole.

Waiting for your drink to be poured, you watched Jayce, Sue, and Hale drift toward the fireplace sitting area, Hale’s arm already wrapped around your roommate as they chatted animatedly.

“You seem to have a lot of opinions already formed,” Viktor’s voice came from above your shoulder as he reached for his drink—a vodka on the rocks.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll indeed run for my life,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Is that so?” His tone was smooth, with just a hint of challenge.

“Absolutely,” you replied, leaning in slightly with mock seriousness. “You’re giving off dangerous, 'I’ve got a sarcastic comment for everything' vibes. It's a threat.”

Viktor chuckled, the sound warm and surprisingly disarming. “A threat, huh? I’ll have to be careful then.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes glinting. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile forming at the edge of your mouth. “I wasn’t worried.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the noise of the bar buzzing around you. Viktor’s gaze lingered a moment too long, making you feel slightly off balance. Then, with a casual shrug, he turned back to the group by the fireplace.

“Let’s go join the chaos,” he said nonchalantly, throwing you a brief glance over his shoulder as he walked away.

You followed, still trying to shake the unexpected buzz of the encounter. It was weird how Viktor could throw you off without even trying.

By the time you approached the group, Hale had already charmed Jayce and Sue, effortlessly pulling them into his world with animated tales of his theatre exploits. He gestured enthusiastically, his voice rich with excitement. “So, we’re doing Rocky Horror Picture Show this year for the mid-semester final,” he announced, his theatrical tone drawing everyone in. “We’re looking for actors—are any of you up for it?”

Sue, looking both intrigued and a little unsure, glanced over at Jayce, who was already grinning. “I’m afraid that my singing would have you fail the final, Hale,” Jayce said with a laugh, clearly weighing the possibilities. “I will gladly come and watch, though?”

Hale grinned wider. “I’ll put you in the front row! And Y/N’s been trying to convince me to take on Frank N. Furter’s part, which made me think she’d make a killer Janet.”

At that, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your playful tone cutting through the banter. “Only if I can play Magenta,” you said, tossing your head back slightly. “Otherwise, it's a no-go.”

The group chuckled, but Jayce, who had been half-listening as they continued talking, suddenly perked up. “Wait, hold on. Are you both actually from Sheffield?” He leaned forward slightly, clearly curious.

You smirked, folding your arms across your chest and leaning in, dropping the playful façade for a second. “I don’t have my Pulp T-shirt on me today,” you quipped, “but I can show you my ID?”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew full well that a bit of playful sarcasm could spark a reaction. Viktor, standing just a few steps behind, glanced over at you as your words hit the air. His eyes flicked between you and Jayce, his attention sharpened but still calm, like he was quietly enjoying your back-and-forth with the others.

Jayce laughed, shaking his head. “You really are from Sheffield, aren’t you?”

“Born and bred,” you shot back with a grin, your hands slipping into your pockets. “Don’t let the accent fool you.”

Viktor took a small sip of his drink, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his gaze as he continued to watch you. You had a way of carrying yourself—like you knew how to hold your ground, even when teasing. And now that you had mentioned it, there was a non-Sheffield accent lingering underneath your words.

“Eh, it’s not a place for stars like us,” Hale mused, giving your thigh a playful squeeze.

“My darling, brilliant man, you know all I wish for you is to never step foot in that shithole again and rise to stardom so fast the bystanders get their eyes burned,” you replied with a dramatic flourish, your grin wide and teasing.

Jayce laughed, raising his beer. “Well, before anyone dies burned by Hale’s halo, I guess we could all drag along back for Christmas together?”

“Jayce, if there is anything to drag by then, be my guest,” you responded with a quiet clank of your glass against Jayce’s.

“Oh yes, Christmas is a must. I have to bring a peace offering to Y/N’s mother for stealing her precious daughter away from the family nest,” Hale said, making an exaggerated frightened face when mentioning your mum, Joanne.

“Hale, repeat after me: Joanne is going to be fine. It’s about time she grows up.”

***

Jayce and Viktor walked down the dimly lit street, the buzz of the bar still echoing in their steps. The night air was cool, and the muffled sounds of laughter and music faded behind them as they made their way back to the dorms.

“I love freshmen,” Jayce said, a grin tugging at his lips.

Viktor shot him a sidelong glance. “That’s disturbing.”

“Come on, they’re cute.” Jayce shrugged; his tone playful. “Good idea with the morning orchestra, by the way. Got them all riled up.”

Viktor’s lips twitched at the memory. “The girls sure have their eyes on you.” He looked at Jayce, raising an eyebrow. “You planning on visiting Y/N’s family for Christmas already?”

Jayce laughed. “I don’t know, man. I have a feeling her eyes are actually on you.”

Viktor paused mid-step, narrowing his eyes. “She literally called me 'the straight man' and the 'run-for-your-life-one.' I highly doubt it.”

Jayce nudged him with his elbow. “You know nothing about girls, Viktor.” Viktor gave him a sceptical look, but Jayce’s grin only grew wider, and for once, Viktor couldn't help but wonder if Jayce was right.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #the game of teaching body

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antiquatedsimmer · 25 days ago

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Modern Foxbury Dorms

30x20 Lot: Tidal Tower

GalleryID: Pathesis

Pack heavy & CC Required (Linked undercut)

Welcome to Foxbury!

As you enter you'll find the café, bookstore, Councilor/student services, and art displays on the 1st floor while your dorms are upstairs.

Use the stairwells on the north or east side while the 2nd elevator is out of service, and Please silence phones in the computer lab. There is absolutely No Phones allowed in testing rooms during exams. Our students are provided with a pristine lounge, feel free to stop by your RA's Desk with any concerns!

🦞LETS GO LOBSTERS LETS GO!🦞

Download Tray Files On Patreon or SFS

Required CC:

Yes its a lot lmao sorry I didn't plan on sharing it until I finished it and was quite proud off. Thank you creators for the lovely cc!

Rise&Grind by Little Dica

RVSN High Petrol Gas Station

RVSN Supplies Party

Simdulgence Condom Dispenser - Early Access

Nostalgia Living by AWingdLlama

RVSN Shop Chef Consumables

RVSN Family Bulletin Board

Greatist Hits CD Collection by Brainstrip & Draufilm

Simpost CC Kit by MylittleponyOH

Cozy Setup Collection by Caio

Bioshock Deco by Surley & Doctorsimcraft

Private School CC Pack by SixamCC

Laundromat Corner CC Pack by SixamCC

Basemental Drugs - Weed

Kids room stuff by Softpine

High School Collection by SYB

Domaine Du Clos Part 2 by Pierism

Scruff & Stuff by SYB

Computer + Landline phone by Max20

Classic Animated Lava Lamp by LittleDica

My Dream Team Sleepover by SixamCC

Dogwood records by atticwindowatdawn

The Record Store by SIMMILA

Neighborly CC by SYB

Greasy Goods by Little Dica

Home Improvement by SixamCC

The Juno Collection by Ice-creamforbreakfast & Surleysims

My.Mysterios Floating Circus by Surleysims & Doctorsimcraft

Ready Or Not by SYB

Dorm Territory by SYB

Retail Therapy by SYB

Stylish Wood home Office by SixamCC

Chic Bathroom by Little Dica

Sleek Slumber by Little Dica

Cheaped & Chipped by SYB

RVSN Snow & Tell Retail

ATS4 Drinkable cool drinks

Modern Thermostat by SimMattically

ATS4 - Grocery Furniture

Grandma's Freakbox Lovestruck recolor by Antiquatedsimmer

Modern Kitchen by Little Dica

Basement clutter by Softpine

Animated Ashtray by Hamsterbellbelle

Fabulous pride by SYB

Boho Living stuff by AWingdLlama

High School Collection part 3

RVSN Skewl is Kewl by RVSN

Filthy Fab 1 & 2 by RVSN

Fine Dining by ICEMUNMUN

Mid Century Addon by Peacemaker

Office Space by Surleysims

Highschool classroom by SYB

TS4 Keg Override by ATS4

COLDBREW By Perism

Crossfit Reborn by SYB

Backyard Carnival by CEPZID

ECO Kitchen by Little Dica

UNFOLD by Pierism

Murder At The Hotel by LXN

Silent Pines Merged CC Pack by Cosmoos Sims(Missing posters)

Highschool Cafeteria by SYB

H&B Store Stuff by Little Dica

The Original Slablet by DoctorSimcraft(LOVE)

It's all Gravey by RVSN

The Mensuration Crustacean by Surleysims

Chroma Key Floor by Saniva

Plaster painted walls by SforszCC

Roof underside pattern mod by Diemilchschnitte

#PathBuilds #CC #ts4cc #lot #lots #foxbury #discover university #lot download #dorms #colleg #colleg dorms #clutter core #playtested

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fafnir19 · 1 year ago

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I did'nt know if you still took requests but I grew up kind of nerdy. I had a dad that was like that, always into computers and books. As I am now almost 40, I would like to know what my life would have been like had my dad been a bodybuilder or just more athletic.

As you step into the sleek, futuristic VR lab, a tingling excitement fills you. The dimly lit room is filled with humming servers and flashing monitors. Dr. Smith, the head of R&D, greets you with a warm smile. "Welcome. Are you ready to test our latest creation?" You nod eagerly, fumbling with the VR-remote as Dr. Smith explains, "This prototype VR system can simulate alternate timelines based on your past decisions. It's a glimpse into what could have been if you made different choices." As you step into the sleek, futuristic VR chamber, the air hums with anticipation. The prototype VR system gleams with promise, surrounded by a tangle of wires and blinking lights. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Are you ready to begin the simulation?" a voice crackles through the speakers. You nod, swallowing hard, your father's IT prowess echoing in your mind. "What would you change if you could?" the voice whispers in your ear. "Hmm, I wonder how this will turn out," you mumble to yourself, take a deep breath and declare, "I want to change my father from being an IT-nerd to a fitness coach." As the words leave your lips, the room shimmers and shifts before your eyes. The room you find yourself in is eerily familiar yet strangely different. The walls are plastered with posters of modern-day superheroes instead of the old-school bands you used to love. Your gaze falls upon the sleek gaming setup in the corner, a stark contrast to the clunky computer your younger self once had. Your reflection in the mirror reveals a scrawny teenager staring back at you, a stark contrast to your 40-year-old self. The VR system's effects seem so real, yet you're aware it's still the current year.

As you sat in your room, immersed in the virtual reality experience, the door creaked open, and in stepped your father. His appearance had transformed into that of a fitness coach, looking determined and energetic.

He began, "Son, I've found the perfect sport for you." "Sigh... Dad, can we talk about this? I've tried so many sports already, and they're just not my thing," you countered, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. Your father, now fixated on his newfound passion for fitness, insisted, "But you haven't tried cycling yet! It's the perfect blend of exercise and fun. You'll love it, I promise." Frustration turned to exasperation as you realized he wasn't going to back down. "Dad, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I'm just not as sporty as you. Can't we find something else to do this summer?" His brow furrowed, and with a determined gleam in his eye, he declared, "No arguments this time, son. You're going to that cyclist's camp for the summer, and that's final." You let out a defeated groan, knowing it was futile to fight against his newfound fitness obsession. Reluctantly, you mumbled, "Fine, I'll go to the cyclist's camp. But I'm not promising I'll enjoy it." Your father nodded, satisfied with your acceptance, and left the room, leaving you to contemplate the summer ahead filled with cycling adventures.

Some weeks later you find yourself among picturesque mountains in the hated cycling camp. You pedaled hard on the race bike, feeling the strain in your muscles as you tried to keep up with the rest of the cyclists in the camp, but to no avail.

You were feeling the strain in your muscles and the sweat running down your back, as the coach approached you. "Hey, I've got something for you," he said, handing you a pair of sleek glasses.

You put them on, and suddenly the world around you shifts, numbers and data streaming across your vision. Your speed and heart rate, along with the optimal pace and cadence – all displayed in glowing letters.

The information overwhelming you at first. You let out a frustrated scream, "What is this? I can't see anything with all this data in my face!" The coach chuckled, "Just give it a chance. Focus on the line, that's all you need to see." Despite your initial resistance, you forced yourself to concentrate on the slim line that appeared amidst the sea of statistics. It was the perfect course, guiding you through the twists and turns of the cycling track. As you continue riding, the glasses gradually limit your view of the environment until all you can see is the slim line indicating the optimal course. Finally the environment fades away completely, leaving you with only the essential data.

You panic at first, feeling disoriented without being able to see your surroundings and so you couldn't help but protest, "I can't see anything else! How am I supposed to ride like this?" The coach's voice was stern, "Trust the glasses, trust the process. It will help you focus and improve your skills." Reluctantly, you continued to ride, adjusting to the restricted vision. It was frustrating at first, but gradually, you felt your mind quieting down, focusing solely on the slim line in front of you. It was strangely calming, allowing you to block out distractions and concentrate solely on the ride. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself improving dramatically. Your movements were smoother, your reactions quicker. The coach nodded in approval, watching as you navigated the course with precision. Despite the progress, you couldn't deny that you still didn't enjoy sports.

One day, as you pedaled through another successful training session, you felt an unfamiliar sensation stirring within you. Arousal. At first, it was a mere flicker, but soon it blazed through your veins, igniting a fire you never knew existed. Your body reacted without your consent, your member throbbing insistently within the confines of your tight cycling suit, creating a visible bulge that couldn't be ignored. Just as you were lost in this strange mix of pleasure and confusion, the VR system abruptly announced, "Ending VR-Test; leave VR experience or stay to turn VR into reality. VR conversion to reality starts soon." At that very moment, your glasses projected a command to accelerate your speed and cadence on the bike, a directive you found impossible to resist. You obeyed, feeling the rush of the wind against your face as your pleasure heightened with each passing moment. Faster and faster you rode, your body responding eagerly to the physical exertion. Your arousal peaked, your cock growing so hard it felt almost painful. And then, in a climax of both pleasure and exhaustion, you finally succumbed, falling from the bike in a euphoric daze. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, a sense of both satisfaction and confusion washing over you. "Conversion VR to reality completed in 3 ... 2 ... 1," the VR system announces, jolting you back to reality. Panic sets in as you desperately try to end the experience, but it's too late. The VR remote dissolved into thin air, leaving you trapped in your teenage-self in this new, perplexing reality.

As you lay there, grappling with your newfound circumstances, the coach approached with a knowing smile. His gaze fell upon the cum-stained cycling suit, a clear indicator of the glasses' influence on your desires. "The brainwashing glasses have obviously done their task," he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. "Your body's desire is now intertwined with cycling. You'll become a pro cyclist in no time." Still grappling with the bizarre turn of events, you reluctantly nodded in agreement. What choice did you have in this altered reality?

With a gentle yet firm tone, the coach suggested, "You might want to consider shaving your body hair. It could make you faster on the bike, you know." Feeling overwhelmed by the abrupt changes thrust upon you, you hesitantly agreed and made your way to the shower after the grueling training session.

As you attempted to shave yourself, the unfamiliarity of the task led to a few accidental cuts with the razor. Suddenly, a fellow cyclist appeared by your side, offering a helping hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he took over the task of shaving you, his skilled hands gliding smoothly over your skin. The sensation of the razor against your inner thighs and pubic area triggered an unexpected reaction. A rush of arousal surged through you, causing a noticeable reaction in your groin. Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you struggled to contain your body's instinctual response. The other cyclist, noticing your discomfort, reassured you in a calm voice, "Getting a boner is a completely natural reaction, especially in a situation like this. And besides, you're rather cute." His words were oddly comforting, easing some of the tension that had coiled within you. Before you could fully process his kindness, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Surprised yet strangely intrigued by the unexpected gesture, you couldn't help but entertain the fleeting thought, "Maybe my new life isn't that bad after all." Meanwhile, the coach, who had been observing the scene unfold, couldn't help but smirk at the dynamics taking shape within the team. "The side effect of the glasses, turning the boys bi, certainly creates an interesting new dynamic, wouldn't you say?" he mused, his eyes glinting with amusement at the unfolding changes in the team's dynamics.

Enjoy the ride of your new life, cyclist!

#male tf #male transformation #straight to bi #nerd to jock #age regression

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materialsscienceandengineering · 1 year ago

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Laboratory Safety: The Hierarchy of Controls

Though many people may think of safety glasses or lab coats as the safest way to protect oneself in a laboratory setting, personal protective equipment (PPE) is actually considered the last and least effective step. The goal with safety in laboratories is almost always to make the use of PPE unnecessary or redundant - with the caveat and acknowledgement that sometimes, that just isn't possible.

Nevertheless, let's take a look at the steps that come before PPE:

Elimination of the hazard. Examples might be restricting the use of extension cords (possible trip hazard); doing work at ground level (e.g., eliminating the use of a ladder and bringing the work to the floor); or updating old or faulty equipment that might be more dangerous than modern versions.

Substitution of the hazard. Similar to elimination, examples include replacing chemicals with less dangerous versions that can perform the same task, or using less electricity or temperature.

Engineering controls serve to isolate people from hazards. Examples include chemical fume hoods, an interlock system for a laser setup, or remote controls to operate equipment from a distance.

Administrative controls are the rules and regulations that govern a laboratory space. They can include working on a buddy system, additional safety training, mandating rest breaks, putting up warning signs and labels, and developing standard operating procedures.

Sources/Further Reading*: (Image source - CDC) (OSHA) (OSHA hierarchy of controls) (SafetyCulture) (Lab Manager)

*Note: If you are looking for lab safety resources, any university with working laboratories should have guidelines available. Just keep in mind that as the rules get more specific, some may be location dependent (i.e., based on the local laws of the state, province, country, etc.).

#Materials Science #Science #Safety #SafetySunday #2024Daily

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hroscek · 11 months ago

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Hello ! I have been following your account for a while and totally in love with your theories and headcannons <3 I’m wondering if it’s possible to make a few headcannons about Dottore working out at the gym ?

Omg thank you so much!! It really means a lot <33 I love feeding fellow Dottore fans with whatever they desire. Here you go pookie, just for you.

🤍Il Dottore workout headcanons🤍

Slightly ooc and silly btw! Also I'm not that into fitness so excuse any awkward wording or mistakes (I run a Dottore fanblog, it's shocking if I leave the house more than once a week).

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Despite being mostly known for his intellectual abilities, Dottore also prides himself on his combat abilities. He is well educated on the topic of human anatomy and fitness. Being The Doctor he is responsible for creating the Fatui soldiers' training guide, maximizing each new recruit's progress toward becoming a worthy soldier. He is also likely behind creating and guiding the harbingers' workouts and combat training, focusing on each of their strengths and weaknesses to create truly powerful beings.

While he does spend most of his time on his research, Dottore is aware he can't skip out on his physical form. That's why he created a specialized workout schedule. His main focus was making sure it doesn't eat up too much of his time (he is a VERY busy man) while getting him ready for a variety of situations. I believe his main goal would be building strength and cardio with a healthy mix of flexibility.

If the leaks are to be believed he wields a claymore, which requires some intense core and arm strength so he'd put in some effort to be able to maneuver it effectively. This would include the standard combat training (most likely with specialized dummies, robots or unlucky segments) but also working with weights and agility training. From the in-game model we can tell he works most on his arms, shoulders, core and chest.

Another important component would be cardio. This helps him keep in shape and monitor his physical well being. It also helps him gtfo if a situation becomes too risky even for him. Most of this is realized with him just running on a treadmill or a similar exercise.

Lastly, he would likely practice some form of flexibility training to aid in his combat (and keep away the back pain). He definitely does some form of yoga, which doubles as an opportunity to do some meditation or pondering™ on his latest experiment.

He prefers to do these workouts alone, likely having a specialized gym in his lab. If he is away or can't access a private spot he will have his guards empty a room for it. He even designed a portable gym setup with the essentials that he brings on missions so he doesn't fall behind.

One time Childe suggested the Doctor show him how to do an exercise on his plan (believing that he'd be able to get a sparring match with a 2nd harbinger out of it) and he hit him with a death stare that could kill a man trough the mask. The poor kid decided to avoid him from then on.

He wouldn't be caught dead working out with other people if he can help it. He sees his body as sacred and it's upkeep is a very private matter to him. If he went to a modern gymbro type gym he'd most likely fake his own death and flee the country (or planet).

He is also one of those psychopaths that workout without headphones or music.

In contrast the segments don't adhere to a strict workout schedule, seeing as their bodies are constructed with combat in mind. Nevertheless they use working out as a way to relax after a mentally taxing period or as bonding with other segments. The younger segments have occasional fights and bets between each other in who's better at a certain sport or activity, usually settled by dropping everything to go measure just who's best.

The segments also have a more fun approach when it comes to taking care of their "bodies". Depending on their personality, some are very open to trying different disciplines and games. One of the teenage segments is actually surprisingly good at horseback riding (one time had a silent hour long race with Kaeya while riding around Mondstadt. They never learned who the other was, but will continue to praise their abilities when reminiscing). Some older segments find never ending joy in exercise tapes and even filmed their own (strictly controlled to make sure it never leaks).

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Thank you for reading and a HUGE thank you to whoever sent the ask <3 It really does mean a lot to see support for my content and I love receiving ideas on what I should cover. I hope this satisfies your Dottore gym urges well enough and sorry it took a while. I didn't post for a bit these days because I'm working on something kinda big but I'm not sure if I'll post it so don't get your hopes up please (a bit of a perfectionist so if it's not perfect it'll never see the light of day). In conclusion, I love getting asks so if there's ANYTHING you wanna share or suggest please do so. I really don't judge.

⟡

#enjoy 80s dancercise Dottore #dottore #genshin dottore #il dottore #genshin impact #dottore headcanons #genshin dottore headcanons #fatui headcanon #webtorre can do a kickflip btw #no need to check

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ixhika-jsx · 10 months ago

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## What’s a Cyber Forensic Investigator?

Master post - part 1 • part 2

You must have heard bout forensics yk investigating bout dead people who might have been killed and all

You must have seen shows on those topics too.Cyber forensic investigator is just of same kind but investigating through all types of modern gadgets.

Catching hackers and all but cooler

### The Money Talk: How Much Do They Make?

- **Cash Money**: Expect to rake in about $60k to $120k a year. If you are very much experienced and skilled then you can expect about 150k+ a year.(obv different countries and companies may have different wages)

### Companies That Want You

- **Tech Titans**: Google, Amazon, Facebook—they all have requirement for such heroes

- **Gov Jobs**: FBI, CIA—basically every spy agency wants you.

- **Cybersecurity Firms**: CrowdStrike, McAfee—so every gateway you go you gonna have opportunities everywhere.

### What Other Forensic Investigators Are There?

- **Forensic Pathologists**: Real-life detectives who figure out how someone died. Less tech, more science.

- **DNA Analysts**: The ones matching DNA samples

- **Forensic Accountants**: Following the money to catch fraudsters and scammers

- **Toxicologists**: Poison experts, figuring out if someone’s been covertly poisoned. (Yeaa yk snow white story)

### What’s the Work Environment Like?

- **The Lab**: Imagine a room filled with more screens than your gaming setup. Gadgets galore, maybe even a Red Bull or two

- **On the Move**: Sometimes you’re out in the field, collecting evidence. Think of it like collecting rare items in a game.

- **Remote Vibes**: You could be solving cybercrimes from your bed in your PJs .

### How Long Does It Take to Become One?

- **Time Investment**: About 4 years for a bachelor’s, and then 1-2 more years for a master’s if you’re going all-in. So, 5-6 years total. But hey, good things take time, right?

### What Do You Study?

- **Cybersecurity/Computer Science**: Your main jams. Think of them as the ultimate cheat codes for this career.

- **Digital Forensics**: Specialized courses where you learn to be a digital ninja.

- **Law and Ethics**: Learning how to catch the bad guys without breaking the law yourself. (You yourself don't want to be troubled obviously)

### Subjects You Need to Get Into It

- **Math**: Yep, but not the boring kind—more like coding and algorithms.

- **Computer Science**: Your go-to for everything techy.

- **Optional Nerd Points**: Chemistry/Physics if you’re into hardware forensics or just want to flex those brain muscles.

### Work Hours: What to Expect?

- **9 to 5-ish**: Standard hours if you’re working for a company, but expect some late nights or weekend shifts when big cases pop up.

- **On-Call Madness**: Sometimes you’re on-call like a digital firefighter. Cyber-attack at 3 AM? Time to suit up (or log in) and handle it.

- **Flexible/Remote**: If you’re lucky, you can work from home. Just remember, no solving crimes in your underwear during Zoom meetings!

### Interview with a Cyber Forensic Investigator

**Interviewer**: What’s a day in the life of a cyber forensic investigator?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Imagine rolling out of bed, grabbing your coffee, and diving into cases. I’m talking analyzing hard drives, sifting through emails, or tracking down cyberattack origins. Some days it’s all data, other days I’m working with law enforcement or testifying in court. Never a dull moment!

**Interviewer**: What’s the coolest case you’ve worked on?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Helping bust a phishing ring that was scamming millions. Tracked their digital footprints, caught the culprits, and recovered their loot. Felt like a total legend.

**Interviewer**: Ever seen some dark stuff, like murders?

*Cyber Sleuth**: Yeah, I’ve stumbled across some pretty grim stuff. It’s not all memes and malware—sometimes it’s serious business. But catching those bad guys makes it all worth it.

**Interviewer**: Have you ever been on the dark web?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Oh, for sure. It’s like the sketchy underbelly of the internet. Lots of shady deals. I go there when I need to, but it’s not a fun hangout spot.

**Interviewer**: How dark can a case get?

**Cyber Sleuth**: It can get really intense. I’ve worked on cases involving human trafficking and other serious crimes. It’s tough, but making a difference makes it worth it.

**Interviewer**: Any advice for someone who wants to get into this field?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Stay curious and keep learning. Tech evolves fast, so you’ve gotta keep up. And don’t be afraid to dig deep—sometimes the answers are buried in tons of data, but finding them is like hitting gold.

So if you’re into tech and have subjects like mathematics , chemistry and physics then you are all set to start your journey.i have seen ppl running for a common a job and all and they are not even specified about what they want. So just research and find out what you want.

#masterpost #career #self development #light academia #study blog #academic validation #academic weapon #student life #study #study motivation #study with me #studyblr #studyblr community #forensics #computer #codeblr #masterpostjam

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meetinginsamarra · 1 year ago

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mayprompts2024, #28 empty

Chapters 1 to 4 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

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White Pony Tattoo - Part Eight (empty)

John followed Sherlock through another door that lead into a narrow and dim corridor and then into a tiny hall. There was one flight of stairs leading upwards and one leading down, Sherlock chose to go downstairs.

When they arrived in the basement, John felt the change in temperature and moisture. It was a bit damp down here where the old Victorian groundwork had been built into the London soil. John shivered involuntarily.

Sherlock, of course, observed John twitching and reassured him that the dampness was only tangible in the basement hall but not inside 221c.

“Don’t worry, I had the previously unoccupied basement flat modernized and insulated. I need a perfect room climate in there.”

Sherlock took out a key and fiddled with the lock.

For someone as nimble as Sherlock not directly hitting the keyhole was just implausible, so John suspected that he was just putting on a show. Drawing out the moment of reveal what lay behind the mysterious door like a seasoned magician who captivates the audience with every move of his fingers.

To John’s own amusement, he realized that he was holding his breath, filled with excitement. When John shivered once more, this time it was not due to the temperature.

“Ta-Daaaa!”

Sherlock finally had opened the door with a flourish and stepped aside so that John could get an unhindered view into the room.

John gasped and glanced at Sherlock whose face radiated pride and happiness.

It was a laboratory.

It was a completely equipped chemistry laboratory. John spotted two microscopes on a large worktable in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with workbenches and shelves, stuffed with lab supplies and glassware and notebooks. There was a spectrometer, a gas-phase chromatograph and other devices John didn’t know. A high-speed table centrifuge and a whole destillation setup including an absorption column occupied the central worktable besides the microscopes.

Stunned and overwhelmed, John entered, hearing that Sherlock was right behind him, closing the door.

“Wow, that’s fantastic. I’d never have guessed you have a whole lab down here.”

John turned around to get a panorama view of the room. On the wall beside the entrance door John saw a custom-made wooden display cabinet. It contained numerous tiny phials made of brown glass. Each sported a plain white label with a number and letter combination scribbled onto in spidery script.

All the while, Sherlock watched John taking in the lab he had created and a warm wave of deep affection for the doctor rose in him.

“Oh, is this your ink-laboratory?” John exclaimed, suddenly understanding.

“Very good, John.”

“You’re making your own inks here? I’ve never heard of someone doing this before. This level of perfection.” John looked at Sherlock, full of awe.

“That’s because I’m the only one. I’ve invented the customized ink and I have patented the process.” Sherlock preened.

“But how…” John started.

“I’m a graduate chemist, John. A very good one.” Sherlock lost himself in John’s ocean-blue eyes.

“Brilliant.” John whispered, staring back into Sherlock’s eyes that had changed their colour again into a bright cerulean blue.

Sherlock broke eye contact first. “I need to take a tiny sample of the skin at your arm, John. It won’t hurt.”

“I’m all yours.” I could be yours forever, if you want me.

Sherlock launched into work and into a rapid-fire explanation of what the customisation of ink meant. He talked about tiny aberrations in the acidity of the clients’ skin, the obvious varying nuances of skin colour. How long the skin had been exposed to the sunlight and would be in the future. Aging processes, UV-resistance and so on and on. All in the name of creating a long-lasting, never-fading and perfect ink for this one special customer.

Sometimes John understood what Sherlock explained, being a medical man. Other times he had no idea what Sherlock was on about. It didn’t matter. John was fascinated by Sherlock’s enthusiam and zeal, he practically radiated it like a sun.

Early on in the lab, Sherlock had quickly discarded the cool and detached, even stand-offish demeanour he had shown when they had first met today. It had been replaced with a contagious child-like joy when Sherlock was totally in his element, explaining his thoughts and experiments and showing John how the destillation apparatus worked.

The 35 minutes that John spent with Sherlock together in the lab, were the most intense he had ever experienced, his time during combat in Afghanistan included.

John was the centre of Sherlock’s world, the one fixed point Sherlock focused all of his attention on. It had been a heady feeling and was nearly too much to take in all at once.

Never before, John had felt so seen, so understood, so known by another human being.

Afterwards, they had said goodbye and exchanged their telephone numbers to keep in touch.

They had also exchanged a spontaneous hug, one that came across as a bit awkward on Sherlock’s side as if he was not accustomed to doing such gestures of sentiment.

Back outside the shop, John felt an enormous emptiness encrouching on him. It threatened to swallow him whole and drag him down into the endless lightless depths of a cold ocean.

John was alone.

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tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @calaisreno

#mayprompts2024 #my sherlock fanfics #number 28 empty #white pony tattoo AU #no beta we die like (wo)men

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arizona-green-tea-absolutist · 1 year ago

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The biggest reason why cold fusion "isn't real" is a combination of I.P. law, energy interests, and """""national security""""" interests and it makes me so fucking mad. You can make a cold fusion cell in your kitchen with household electronics and commercially available materials, you can literally just buy heavy water as a deuterium source. You can also, apparently, make a small scale fusion bomb with the same stuff like what almost happened in the setup fleischmann and pons refused to describe that melted its way into the basement of their lab.

Apparently, based on modern research, a lot of the fusion process is moderated by the flow of electrical current. You can achieve fusion in small amounts and small scales with low temperature plasma and various elements, but the twist is most of the action happens at the annode, which is baffling but that's the part that always has a runaway temperature in cases like this.

One of the reasons I'm somewhat optimistic about the collapse of the american empire is that a lot of the interests that cause bullshit like this will collapse with it. However, the places that discover things, like university research departments, will likely all but collapse as well. With unfettered information sharing, and way less intellectual interference, perhaps it will be a net positive. We're going to find out soon enough I guess.

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thepinkpanther83 · 4 days ago

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The Silent Duet (Pt.3 The Echo Labyrinth)

Story Prompt: “Turtle Song”

Bayverse Leonardo x Fem!Reader - Soulmate AU - Action/Romance

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Find the full series on AO3.

Previous Chapter: Chapter Two: “Nocturne for the Marked” Next Chapter: Chapter Four: “The Siren’s Pulse”

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter Three: “The Echo Labyrinth”

You expected darkness. Maybe damp, silence, the scrape of stone and rusted metal. What you didn’t expect… was light. Strange, warm pools of it, scattered across the sewer hideaway like secrets made visible.

You follow Leo through a series of tunnels and metal doors. They hiss and slide open under his touch, revealing a place that feels alive- wires and vines and glowing screens tangled like roots, music humming from low speakers, faint and wordless. There's a beat to this place. A pulse.

You’re not scared.

Maybe you should be.

But your gut’s quiet. Calm. The masked figure- Leo, his name is Leo, you trust him.

The lair sprawls wider than you imagined. You catch glimpses of movement, one of his brothers, with a red mask, built like a tank, passes through with an energy drink in each hand, pausing only to nod politely at you before disappearing into the maze.

But Leo leads you straight to a sleek, modern space carved into the heart of the sewer. Tech everywhere. Glowing panels, consoles, holoscreens flickering with schematics you don’t understand. This isn’t a basement science project. This is surgical. Purposeful.

A tall, lean turtle with violet mask, and tech-glasses perched across his brow greets you with a nod, fingers already moving over a touchscreen with casual precision.

You recognize the younger energy in him immediately, different from Leo’s quiet control.

This one is the scientist.

He types something fast. Signs just as quickly: “Name? Allergies? Last full physical?” Then, aloud and deadpan: “Kidding. Sort of.”

You blink.

Leo gently nudges your shoulder and mouths while signing, “That’s Donatello. My brother. The smart one. I told him we were coming.”

“Obviously,” Donatello says without looking up, then finally gives you a proper glance. “Welcome to the lab. Sorry for the clinical setup. We’re currently in a bit of a global crisis, and you may be part of the solution.”

You give him a wary look. Doing your best to read his lips.

He smiles- not unkindly. “Don’t worry, we’re past the dissecting-strangers phase.”

You sign back: “Good to know.”

Before you can say more, a girl enters the room- human, in her twenties or thirties perhaps, coffee cup in one hand and a data tablet in the other. She doesn’t stare at you the way most people do. Instead, she signs a casual, “Hey, you must be the violinist.”

Her smile is genuine. She moves like she’s belonged here forever.

Leo leans in and signs as he speaks. “That’s Donnie’s mate. His systems analyst. Brilliant. Sarcastic. Weirdly good at Mario Kart.”

You nod, and your hands move without thinking: “She’s the first person I’ve met who doesn’t look at me like I’m broken.”

Leo gives you a look. That same look from the rooftop- gentle, steady, seeing everything.

“You’re not,” he says softly while signing. “Not even close.”

Donatello clears his throat. “Okay, kids, moment’s over. I’ve got scans.”

He pulls up a neural map- yours, apparently, and overlays it with half a dozen others. “She’s showing signs of what I’ve been calling a ‘resonance anomaly.’ But more than that- her neural echo pattern doesn’t spike under the AI control frequency. Not at all. I think her hearing impairment is acting like a natural firewall.”

He points to a section of the screen pulsing faintly in blue. “See that? That’s her resonance signature. It's responding only to Leo’s input.”

You freeze.

Donnie glances between you both, then adds, “It’s like you’re tuned to a different channel. A channel none of the rest of us can hear unless we're bonded. And Leo…” He pushes his glasses up. “You’re coming in loud and clear.”

Leo doesn’t answer right away. He looks at you instead.

Not with surprise.

But with something like… certainty.

Donnie’s analysis continues in the background- holographic graphs humming softly through the air. But your eyes aren’t on the data anymore. They’re on Leo.

He hasn’t stopped watching you.

Not in a scrutinizing way. Not even protective, really.

Just... present.

You feel it before he says anything. The tension that coils just behind his calm expression. He hasn’t sat down. He paces the lab like a sentry trapped in his own thoughts.

Donnie catches it too.

“I know that look,” he mutters without looking up. “That’s the 'I-want-to-wrap-her-in-bubble-wrap' look.”

Leo stops in his tracks.

“I want her safe,” he says, slowly. Measured. “But she’s not a prisoner.”

You sign gently: “You’re afraid.”

His eyes soften, and he signs back: “You were targeted. Because of this.” He gestures toward the monitors. “Because of what you might be.”

You sit quietly with that.

Then: “And because I’m yours.”

The words make his breath hitch. You see it in his throat.

He nods. Just once.

It’s Mikey who shatters the heavy quiet.

He bursts into the lab with all the subtlety of a sugar rush, holding a bag of cheese curls in one hand and a glowstick in the other. He freezes mid-step when he sees you, then gasps dramatically.

“No one told me we had company! Rude!”

Before you can process it, he’s sidling up with a grin so wide it might be classified as a security threat.

“You’re the soulmate, huh? Dang, you’re way prettier than Leo deserves.”

You blink.

Then, slowly… you smile. He’s ridiculous. But genuine.

You sign, “He’s not so bad.”

“Oh! You sign! I sign too! Poorly. Mostly insults.” Mikey immediately stumbles through something that might be ‘turtle fart’ in ASL.

You laugh. You actually laugh. A sharp, surprised sound that catches even you off guard.

Leo’s expression changes instantly- softens like morning light over stone. He’s watching you like he’s watching a miracle.

“You smiled,” he says, quietly.

You sign, “He’s funny.”

Leo nods once. “Yeah. He is.”

Mikey beams, then shuffles off again, muttering something about needing to introduce you to “Mario Kart” later.

You watch him go.

Then, gently, you lean toward Leo and sign: “Your family is… something else.”

“They’re home,” he signs back.

You believe him.

And for the first time in days, you feel a little less like you’re running.

Time loses shape in Donnie’s lab.

At first, you tried to keep track- counting days by your breath, or the hum of machines. But eventually, the data charts and the soft-spoken murmurs between Donatello and his mate started to lull you into a kind of rhythmic calm.

It’s not that you trust them, not yet.

But you’re not afraid anymore either.

Not of them.

Donatello gestures you toward the holo-platform again. You take your place with practiced ease. Electrodes and sensors already feel familiar on your skin, though you still flinch when they activate.

Leo stands nearby- still, quiet, hands folded behind his back. Watching you.

Always watching you.

He doesn’t stare like the others. He studies.

Donnie begins murmuring to himself, fingers flying over glowing keys. His mate joins him with a soft “hmm” and a brow raised.

“What is it?” Leo asks, moving in.

Donnie turns to you, eyes wide behind his glasses. “Her neural signature… it’s clean.”

You raise a brow at that. “Clean?”

Donnie spins a nearby monitor toward Leo. “No distortion. No echo haze. No influence markers from the control frequency we intercepted from Project Siren’s tech.”

“She’s not just unaffected by the signal,” Donnie adds, glancing back at you, “She nullifies it. The data’s reading her like she’s a silent node- one the tech can’t even ping. It’s like… it’s like she was built to jam it.”

Leo takes that in quietly.

His expression darkens just a little.

“You were right to be afraid.”

He turns to you and signs: “They want you. For this.”

You nod. “I know. I felt it.”

A quiet moment passes. Then Leo breathes deep, as if weighing a decision. He signs again: “Let me teach you.”

Your brows furrow.

“Teach me?”

“To move. To defend yourself. To listen without hearing.” He taps his chest. “To feel rhythm. Like your music. But in your body.”

That catches your interest.

He steps back and motions for you to follow.

Later in an empty training hall.

Your bare feet press into the cold cement of an underground sparring ring.

Leo stands across from you, calm and focused, no weapons. Just presence.

He motions for you to mimic him. You do.

Slow steps. Controlled turns. Breath held, then released.

It starts like tai chi- fluid, thoughtful movements. Then a spin. A block. A reactive motion when he steps closer.

You flinch.

He stops.

“Again,” he signs. “But feel the air. Not me. Feel the shift. Like a song before the beat drops.”

You inhale slowly. Focus.

He moves again.

And this time- you respond. A perfect sidestep. Light on your toes. Almost danced.

Your chest tightens with something that feels like memory. Muscle and breath and music, all wrapped in one.

Leo’s expression doesn’t change, but you catch the gleam in his eyes.

Pride.

You’ve impressed him.

He steps forward again- closer this time. Then he signs:

“You learn fast.”

You smile faintly. “I’ve always had to listen with more than just my ears.”

He pauses. Like he wants to say more. Then simply nods.

The two of you begin again. Movement. Flow. Trust built in silence and echo.

And somewhere, deep inside you, the song hums.

Waiting.

Pulling...

The rooftop air smells like tar and cold metal. But it’s clean. Open.

Free.

You sit with your knees hugged to your chest, your violin case by your side, feeling the quiet weight of the city pressing in from all around. Neon lights blink against windows far in the distance. The hum of power lines vibrates faintly beneath you.

Beside you, Leo perches like a gargoyle at the edge of the roof, arms crossed over his chest, watching the streets below.

He hasn’t said much since you left the lair.

But his silence doesn’t bother you.

He’s the kind of quiet that feels full, not empty. Like music between the notes.

You tap lightly on his shoulder. When he looks, you sign: “Why bring me up here?”

Leo tilts his head. Then answers aloud, voice low, “Because you deserve to breathe.”

You blink. That… catches you off guard.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’ve been buried just because you found us,” he says. “You still have a life. You should get to live it.”

You nod slowly. You’re not sure what you expected him to say- but it wasn’t that.

You rest your chin on your arms. “You’re… not what I expected either,” you say aloud. Then, signing in tandem: “But that’s not a bad thing.”

He gives a half-smile. Shrugs. “I get that a lot.”

For a while, you just sit in stillness together. He doesn’t hover. He doesn’t crowd you. He just is.

So you reach for your violin.

He watches you unpack it with care, settle it against your chin, and lift your bow with practiced grace. His eyes soften with recognition. This has become the place where your languages meet.

You hum.

The music rises.

The city disappears.

Your body forgets the tension. You forget the chase. You forget the tech, the data, the fear.

Until-

A flicker in the shadow below.

Too fast.

Too sharp.

You pause. Leo straightens.

You don’t even get to react before he’s moving.

Shhhk. The sound of a sword being drawn.

You feel the vibration of it.

Then chaos.

Figures in black- blurs of motion. Grappling hooks snap against the side of the building. Boots thunder onto the roof. You spin around just as one closes in- and Leo is already there.

He moves like smoke and steel. Silent but deadly. A blur of blue slicing between you and danger.

You drop your violin and dive, barely dodging a swing of metal.

Two more climb up from behind. You scramble back- only for Leo to knock one out cold with a roundhouse kick, blade catching the rooftop light in a deadly flash.

The other aims for you.

Leo growls- a sound you can feel, and slams into them, full force. They go down hard. Don’t get back up.

Three more advance. He doesn’t hesitate.

You sit frozen. Heart pounding. Breath too tight in your lungs.

You can’t hear the fight- but you feel it.

Every vibration in the cement. Every thud. Every grunt. The way Leo moves- for you.

Then suddenly it’s over.

The last one drops with a muffled cry, unconscious at Leo’s feet.

He breathes hard. Turns to you.

You meet his eyes- and all at once, every ounce of false safety collapses.

You’re not safe.

Not out here.

Not alone.

He walks toward you, offering his hand.

You take it.

No words needed.

The city blurs behind them as they drop into the alley and disappear into the night.

You don’t protest. You just clutch your violin case and follow, silent, heart racing like a second song under your skin.

Leo can feel it. The pull. The resonance.

It's getting stronger.

And as Leo leads you back into the sewer tunnels once more, his chest aches.

Not just from the fight.

But because he knows you don’t belong in the dark.

And yet... he can’t let you go.

Not now.

Not ever.

Next Chapter: Chapter Four: “The Siren’s Pulse”

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