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bullet-prooflove · 10 days

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Good People: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Takes place after:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Prequel to:

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Everyone knows that Carmy has a thing for the farm girl. It’s the way his attention shifts when your name is mentioned, the fact it’s him signs for the orders and no one else. They watch as he asks about your day and raise their eyebrows when he stands there and actually listens.

“You may as well be giving her fuck me eyes.” Richie says as he tries to wrestle The Beef t-shirt onto an inflatable hotdog in Jimmy’s backyard.

The two of them are setting up for that ridiculous kid’s party, hoping to knock a couple of grand off the debt Mikey owed him.

“I don’t have fuck me eyes.” Carmy mutters, focusing on slicing the oranges for the homemade Ectoplasm he’s made because Unc’s kid is nuts about Ghostbusters.

“Oh you do. You fucking do.” Richie argues as he pulls out the duct tape. “It’s probably the reason we’re getting such a discount, she likes the way you shake that pasty white ass underneath that little apron of yours.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He snaps at Richie, launching a piece of fruit at the back of Richie’s head. It smacks him right on the dome and the other man turns to face him furious.

“What the fuck is with you?” Richie retorts, throwing it back. “Last month you got the shit kicked out of you by a guy dressed like a carrot, now you’re whoring yourself out for cucumbers. You’ve got issues man, big ones.”

Carmen really has nothing to say to that because honestly if he had to whore himself out to keep this business going, he probably fucking would. That’s exactly where his self-respect is right now, rock fucking bottom. It’s the reason he’s out here in the fucking suburbs slinging gourmet hot dogs for little monsters have no fucking clue how the real world works.

“I hate you.” He tells Richie as he throws himself back into his work the same way he always does. “I fucking hate you.”

It’s an hour later that Richie does the uncharacteristic thing and apologizes. Carmy thinks it’s probably got something to do with the Xanex he took about an hour ago.

“I shouldn’t have said that about Alice.” Richie says, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “She’s good people.”

“Yea she is.” Carmy responds as he starts to make up another hotdog. “She’s helping us out in a bind because she’s a good person. It’s got nothing to do with my ass.”

Richie tilts his head from side to side as he pulls the bottle of Xanax out of his coat pocket and spills another tablet into his palm.

“It’s a little to do with your ass.” Richie tells him as he takes the pill, washing it down with a cup of Ecto.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carmy asks as he puts the finishing touches on his masterpiece.

“It means for some fucked up reason she likes you.” Richie responds, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why, you’re basically a fucking mop with eyes but she does and you should really do something about that.”

“Like what Richie?” Carmy retorts, turning to face him, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “I run a sandwich shop that’s failing so badly I had to pay for our meat order with change out the arcade machine thirty days ago, I’ve got jack shit to offer anyone right now.”

“I’m just saying you deserve to be happy.” Richie says as he leans back against the fold up table, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Mikey would have wanted you to be happy.”

Carmy doesn’t know what Mikey would have wanted because Mikey, he’s not hear to tell him.

“That second Xanex just kicked in didn’t it?” Carmy remarks, changing the subject and Richie exhales, nodding his head.

“Oh yea, big time. I don’t feel a fucking thing.”

It’s on the way home, that Carmy starts to think about what Richie said, about you, about being happy.

Sitting in those fields at your farm on his days off, shooting the shit with you. It’s the closest thing to contentment he’s felt in years. If he was a better man, someone less mentally ill, he’d consider pursuing it but honestly he’s a fucking mess. He wouldn’t wish himself on any woman especially you.

“You’re punking out aren’t you?” Richie says from the passenger seat as he watches the world go by outside.

“No.” Carmy says, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “She just deserves better than an asshole like me.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto imagine

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its-in-the-woods · 2 months

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The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 9

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character

Synopsis: “I don’t know if I can lose someone again.”

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on Fallout expect typical horror as well as: Blo0d, G0re, Death, Bodily injury, mentions of SH, death, drugs use, soft!cooper, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, Dead dove,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*thank you to everyone that reads <3 You all make the world go round. I've really fallen in love with this story

The next two outposts were the same burnt outside, body parts, and not much else. The third one left Cooper feeling frustrated as they went over the whole place trying to find something worthwhile. Food, water, and chems were low. They could probably go a few more days, but it was making his fingers itch. He didn’t like to run low on anything, as it would mean withdrawals, withdrawals lead to going feral. He glances over at Jade, he was not going feral. No. They’d figure this out, or he’d off himself before that happened.

Jade had started lifting floorboards around a desk, the woman was convinced something was under the floor. Ghoul was less optimistic, it wasn’t the first time she’d torn into a wall or floor thinking there might be more behind it. Jade hadn’t said much about whatever was happening, she’d curl up against him at night, and while they walked she’d occasionally hold his hand. She’d kissed him a couple of times too, it left him feeling slightly dizzy, the world didn’t feel so dark with her in it. She was a vicious killing machine when it called for, but also full of ridiculous optimism. How? He didn’t try to understand. The more he learned about her life the more he questioned why she kept going. Why did anyone keep going? Jade just wanted to live, she lived for each day, and each morning. Somehow grateful that she got to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

“Yes!” He hears her call out, taking him out of his thoughts. She had dropped down below the floor, just her hand sticking up out of the hole she jumped into. “Chems!”

The Ghoul moves over looking down into the dark hole. Jade had a big smile on her dirt-covered face shaking the case of chems above her head like she’d struck gold. He reached down, grabbing the box before placing them on the old table. Opening it up, six bottles of his chem, he couldn’t help the small smile tug on his lips.

“Hell yah,” He says, turning to look back down at her, there were half a dozen or so crates scattered over the basement. She was going through each carefully, a small stack of cans beside her, some water purifying tablets.

“Start passing stuff up’er, Pip-Squeak.” Cooper leaning down, she turns face to him, now covered in more dust and dirt. She grabbed a few things wrapping them up in her coat to hand to the man.

“Think we should be good for a little while now,” Jade smiles at him, he couldn’t help the way his heart twitches seeing her grinning. She looks at him like the sun revolves around him, eyes lit up like fire.

“Grab whatever else, then we should get you outta here, don't know what could be down there.” He states, squatting down to hand her the jacket again.

After one more load, he helps Jade out from under the floor, they are both covered in dirt. Jade was over the moon with her small find, “This should keep us supplied until we get to the next town. God I hope we get to -”

A click of a gun had Cooper whirling his own gun up, as he turns to face the two men who stand in the doorway. He fires at them, his other hand pushing Jade down, he hears her drop as gunfire goes off. His gun blasts a hole in one of the men, the man falls as the other blasts scattershot. The shot hitting the Ghoul in the chest, but that didn’t stop him, instead the Ghoul was already aiming his gun at the man. The blast coming out and blowing the man's hand clear off. Another shot from outside hit the Ghoul's side, Jade standing up beside him firing at the man. Her speed and accuracy were no match for the other man as he was hit by both of them. The one man was dead on the floor, the other screaming holding the stump of his hand up. The man outside had chunks out of him but was taking off. Cooper was already at the door grabbing the man and dragging him back to the door. Jade stood over the blood-covered man as he begged her to end it.

“Why are you here!” She yells at him, Cooper slamming the other man’s blood body beside the door. The other man was coughing and sputtering blood all over the ground as he oozed.

“There’s a bounty on you two,” The man sobs, his face starting to go pale as blood gushes out of him. He wouldn’t be long for this world, not without them fixing up his stump, which isn't going to happen.

“A bounty huh,” The Ghoul said, crouching in front of him, watching him try to squirm away from his gaze.

“You killed the wrong guy's brother, Ghoul,” The man beside the door choked out, blood foaming down his face. His eyes were going in and out of focus, words more a slur than speak.

“Whose brother!” Jade gritted, her hand grabbing stumpy's stump and pushing a finger in.

The man howled, “Stop, please. Please no more.” He whimpered tears covering his dirt-smeared face. “Joel, Joel Pedro. Dom Pedro’s brother, you dumb cunt.”

Jade looked up at the Ghoul, the two immediately recognizing the name. The ghoul handed her a knife, she took the knife and cut his throat, blood squirting out as he sputtered and choked.

The Ghoul had a foot on the other man pressing it down into its chest, the man wailing as he pushed on it, “Who the fuck is Dom Predo?”

The man shrivels back, squirming in his own icker. “He’s coming for yah Ghoul. He’s going to take you and the experiment girl alive.”

Cooper shot him without hesitation, the splash of blood on the doorway dripping down. Jade stood there with a confused look on her face, before moving towards the bodies, digging around in pockets. She pulls out a sheet of paper, unfolds it, and holds it up to the Ghoul.

His face sans hat was on there, and beside him was a poorly done drawing of Jade. Both drawings were half-assed but it was clearly them. A large bounty for them both found alive, less if they were dead. A bit more info was below, they were to be brought to the southern west coast. Details were sparse but it was enough to give them a direction.

“Well fuck, looks like you got your first bounty on your head, Tiny” The Ghoul states before he folds up the paper and puts it back into his pocket. Trying not to think too hard on the fact that Jade was now in danger because of him.

“First? You’ve had this happen before?” Jade pushes, Cooper shrugging as he starts to go over the dead men. He had lost track of how many times someone had wanted his head on a platter, it never ended well for the ones looking for him. You didn’t stay alive for this long without killing a few fellas.

“Won’t be doin’ good if I wasn’t on the boards myself,” He said, grabbing a good bag of caps from one of the men, they’d be well stocked now. The Ghoul pondering a change of course now that there was a bounty on their heads.

“How’d they know it was us?” Jade asks, pulling out some ammo and pocketing it. Her pants and bag were already heavily weighed down by her findings.

“Always someone watching, could have been someone in one of the towns or outposts that recognized you.” He replies, fishing out a couple vials of chem, as well as another inhaler. Never hurt to have a spare one or three. The old saying, ‘One is none, and two is one’, came to mind.

Jade sitting back on her heels looking at the mess, “I wish I could remember their faces, at least we could avoid them then.”

The Ghoul watching her, he could see the wheels turning in her head, he got up and went to her. Crouching beside Jade to look at the body, really what was left of the body.

“Look’er, I can give you some bullshit 'bout how it’s gonna be okay. That they’ll never catch us dead or alive. But I know you Jade, you’ve seen this world for what it is. It ain’t gonna get better, you decided to follow me. You decided to jump down that creature's throat. We both know that chances of us makin’ it to the other side unscared, much less alive, is low.” He states, he didn’t know why he needed a speech, but it felt right. “Now ya can try and dig those memories up, to make sense of it’ll. But I’ve been wandering this bullshit for two hundred years, and most memories that’re gone are best left gone.”

Jade looked at him, brown eyes watching him before she stands up and stretches, audible pops as she moves. “I think that’s the most words you’ve said to me.”

The Ghoul huffed, “Yeah, you're welcome, Pip-Squeak. Good it gets me.” He rolls his shoulder under the duster grabbing his bag, hoping that maybe some of the words crept into that thick skull of hers.

Jade has a small smile as she goes back into the building rummaging through the last dead body. “Well, it does get you a bunch of Chems, and a good amount of caps. I am not a completely useless sidekick”

She jingled the cap and held out the chems, the Ghoul took them. Letting his hand linger on her fingers a little longer. Watching as her cheeks go a little pink, the girl had just killed three people with him and was now blushing at the touch of his glove. Maybe he was still stuck in the forest somewhere living in a daydream.

“Think we should head south at the next intersection.” He said as he stashes the bottles in his bag, Jade doing the same thing, making sure all their loot was tucked away.

“Why south?” Jade asks, closing up her own bag. The Ghoul was grateful to see her not wincing when she shifted it onto her back. He had taken out the stitches at the second outpost. Most of her bruises and cuts are now gone, but he'd catch her every now and again wincing in pain. “Thought we would be heading west?”

The Ghoul pulls out the paper that had their bounty on it. Rereading the words.“Want to know more about this fella. Dom Pedro. So we know what we are walking into.”

“Walking into?” Jade pries, as she walks over to him. “Are we planning on going after him?”

“Won't be who I was if I ran from every slimsnake that wanted my head.” He clicked his tongue, standing up and taking a hit of chem, the numbness easing his mind. “I know of a small town that should be able to get us some information. If you're game?”

Jade shrugs, looking around the place, before back at him. “Don't got any other plans.”

They continued west until they hit a crossroads, the beat-to-hell pavement more sand and gravel than the once black tarmac. Jade stands beside her companion watching him look at the different directions. His eyes squinting, head tipping as he listens. His senses were much sharper than hers, he often stop to do just this. Listen, look, smell, and take stock of what is around them. Since the forest incident, he had been extra cautious about anywhere they went. Constantly making her stay somewhere so he could scope it out. Jade would have called it annoying, but really she knew he was just trying to keep her safe.

As he turns she saw the wreckage of the scattershot he had taken. Grimacing a little at the wounds, she hopes he’d let her dig them out. It had to be painful, right? He finally faces south, squirting down the way.

“What is it?” Jade finally asks, trying to see what he could. She moves to stand right behind him, shifting the weight of her bag on her shoulders. Regretting having taken those extra cans of cram, the bag's weight pressing down on her tender joints.

The Ghoul huffs, rolling his shoulders, “I am not sure, something feels wrong.” Jade tried to let her senses feel out, when she had been in the forest she had felt the strangest, the wrongness of the place. Here though, it didn’t feel any different than any of the other trails they’d been on.

Jade shifts her weight onto her other foot. The thought that they could be going down another fucked up forest trail was not high on her to-do list. “Can we not go that way?” She gestures towards the western trail.

He turns to her, looking to where she is pointing. “You scared now pip-squeak? Thought you went on instinct.”

Jade rolls her eyes at him, at the moment her instincts are dull. She had blamed it on the many stimpaks and med-x shots she’d taken, but standing there she wondered if it was something else. “Instinct would like me to live, not go through another monster-being-dropped-on-my-head forest walk,” Jade replies sarcastically, trying not to let the fear creep into her voice.

The Ghoul let out a wheezing cough of laughter, a crooked smile on his face, “Yeah, I would rather not carry your dead weight around.” Jade gives him a dirty look at the comment, “We should keep going West then, it will be a bit roundabout.”

“Roundabout, but alive sounds better than, straightforward and dead.” Jade sighs, turning towards the western path. She is about ten steps down the road before realizing he hasn’t moved yet, “You losin' it, old man.”

The Ghoul turns towards her, eyes covered by the shade of his hat. “Dotcha think it’s a little odd, how everytime we try to go in a directions somethin is standin in our way?”

Jade shrugs again, she hadn’t really thought about it that much. Really she hadn’t thought further than the next place they slept. Was it weird? Maybe, but this was the Wastes, and it wasn’t uncommon to run into issues.

“It’s really only the one time?” Jade said, walking back over to him. “Not like we’ve been traveling for months here.”

“Fifteen days,” The Ghoul said, still staring down the southern path. Jade standing beside him, wondering why he had kept track of how many days. Maybe it was an old-world way she didn’t understand.

“If you really want to go south, we can,” Jade states, yeah she was not really up for another battle, but she wasn’t going anywhere without him either. Sense dulled or not, she couldn’t imagine being alone out here. The realization that she is heavily relying on him, made her heart clench. Did he even feel the same way? Was this a hint that they would be splitting?

The Ghoul turns to her, his hazel eyes looking over her face. Jade held his eye contact, wishing he would just tell her what he was thinking instead of staring at her. The silence was always so much worse than the arguing.

“Well, let’s go,” He said, moving past her down the western trail, in a flurry of material swishing behind him.

Jade’s shoulders slump as she follows him, working hard to keep up with his long-legged pace. Wondering why he had decided to move at the speed of sound all of sudden. She thought about his comment, about how there always seemed to be something in their way.

“What did you mean back there,” She finally asks, “About something being in our way?”

The Ghoul was quiet, Jade’s boots echoing around them as they moved. Jade stops, waiting for the Ghoul to do the same. He turns back looking at her, she still couldn’t make out the expression on his face. Maybe this was it, he had finally decided he was done carrying her dead weight.

“What?” He asks, throwing his hands up. “We're going West, will go around. Save us the headache of finding another critter.”

“What do you mean what?” Jade asks, “You were standing there like you were contemplating the meaning of life instead of which direction we should go."

“Just doesn’t feel right is all.” Ghoul huffs, making as if he is going to leave but doesn’t move much. Instead pacing back and forth. “We should.” He swallows, looking away towards the trees. “I can’t,”

Jade is moving towards him, but he is still staring off face covered in shadow. “What is it? Is this ‘cause of the bounty? Thought you said this wasn’t uncommon?”

“It’s not safe traveling with me. Yah got a bounty on your head, you almost got killed. Cause you are following me.” The last words are so quiet she almost doesn’t hear them, his shoulders drawn up like he was trying to hide himself away from her.

Jade stands in front of him, seeing the pain in his eyes makes her heartache. The holes in his chest had mostly stopped bleeding, but would need to be tended to. At the moment his mind was what needed tending. She reaches up to touch his face, but he moves away from her touch.

“Stop it.” He says, the words holding no venom, he takes a step back from her. Jade wasn’t having it, moving backward with him.

“Me? Stop it?” Jade cusses, “You think I can’t make my own choices?” This time when she reaches for him she pushes him backwards. He barely moves, head tipped down, not looking at her. “Treating me like a child.” Jade is now raising her voice, “I am here, following you. Cause I want to be here.” She shoves him again, “My life has been a living hell for years, and the last however many fuckin days, have been some of the best ones. Even if the monster almost killed me.”

She goes to shove him again, the Ghoul is grabbing both her wrists holding them in iron-like vices. He pushes her back, she stumbles until her back hits a tree with a thump. Thankful that her backpack cushions it. Jade’s hands are pinned against the branch, the Ghoul is right in her face, eyes lit like fire as he glares down at her. Jade's Heart pounding in her chest as his eyes flow over her face.

“You are so frustrating,” He growls at her, Jade staring right back at him with just as much venom, “I can’t keep you safe forever.”

Jade grits her teeth, struggling against his grip, knowing she most likely won’t break free. But there was no way in hell she was going down easily. “I am not asking you to. You vacuum-sealed raisin.”

A small smile twitches his lips at her insult, “Look who's talking, smooth skin.”

Then he leaned down and pressing his lips against hers. Jade froze for a moment, brain trying to figure out how they went from arguing to kissing. Pushing that out of her mind, she pushes back, the bridge of his nose bumping against hers, the warm brush of air as he breathes out. Her whole body reacts when he opens his mouth and sucks her lip into his, keening as she pushes her body against his. Feeling her wrists being let go, his hands traveled down her body, pulling her close. She reached down and held his face, his rough skin under her hands, feeling each scar and mark. Trying to remember the way they felt and how he tastes, all of it.

As suddenly as it started it stopped, the Ghoul pulling away, resting his forehead against hers, hat shading both of them. Their breath mixes as they try and catch it, hearts thundering under their clothes.

“I don’t need you to save me,” Jade whispers, opening her eyes so she can see him. Feeling how his brow furrows at the words. “I just need you with me. For however long we get.” His breath is evening out, eyes still closed, Jade wishing he would look at her. “Please, I don’t know how long I will get. But I’d rather spend it with you.”

She hears him swallowing, his hand coming to cover the sides of her face. “I don’t know if I can lose someone again.”

The hurt in his voice had Jade wrapping her arms around him, hugging him close to her body. Feeling him tremble a little as she held on, refusing to let go of him. She didn’t care about anything else but holding onto him. Holding onto a man, who had seen every part of his world destroyed. Lost family, friends, and more to this horrid wasteland.

“I will follow you, wherever you go. Until this world of ours ends,” Jade whispers, holding him tight for a moment more.

Part 10

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*likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated. It helps more people find me <3

*Updating one a week depending, please note my schedule is getting hectic but I will continue to update! Please be patient with me

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liaromancewriter · 1 month

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When Sparks Fly

Premise: Aurora Emery was no stranger to breakups, but what happened next was unexpected.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Characters: Aurora Emery, F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat M!OC Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,525

A/N: Submission for @choicesaugustchallenge prompt "fireworks"

Aurora Emery leaned against the counter of the nurses’ station, absently tapping her pen against the countertop. The hum of the hospital around her was familiar, but it didn’t have the same soothing effect as other days.

Halfway through a long shift, her mind was usually filled with thoughts of her current cases. Not today.

Today, there was a lingering ache in her heart, the after-effects of a recent breakup with someone who couldn’t quite grasp the demands of her career.

Aunt Harper had warned her this would happen. But Aurora hadn’t listened even though her inner cynic taunted that it was only inevitable.

Female doctors rarely got as much attention or respect as their male counterparts. When a man said he was a doctor, women lined up around the block. The reverse was not true.

Her brows furrowed in annoyance at the memory of her ex breaking up with her by commenting on her Picta post. He didn’t even have the decency to tell her in person or text her.

The only saving grace was that her Pictagram account was private, and her followers were limited to family and friends.

Still, the whole sordid situation was embarrassing, especially when her grandmother called to commiserate on one hand and tried to set her up with an eligible bachelor from her bridge club on the other.

He wasn’t worth it, she reminded herself vehemently.

“That’s a fierce look,” her friend Cassie Valentine commented as she walked toward Aurora, placing one arm around her shoulder in a quick hug. “Forget that jerkwad. He didn’t deserve you.”

She was the epitome of calm, her long blonde hair neatly twisted up. A crisp white coat with Edenbrook’s crest on the pocket floated around her thighs, complementing the blouse and skirt beneath.

The engagement and wedding band combo on her left hand sparkled under the fluorescent lights, stirring a twinge of envy in Aurora.

“You’re obsessing right now and probably a mess,” Cassie said, placing both hands firmly on Aurora’s shoulders and staring intently into her eyes. “But one day soon, you’ll wake up and realize you’re free of a loser with low self-esteem. And it’s his loss for throwing away the greatest love he’ll ever have.”

Aurora smiled softly, amused but also touched. Cassie had been giving her pep talks since they were interns. Whenever she started feeling sorry for herself, her friend was there with advice that helped her see things clearly and snap out of it.

For most of their intern year, Aurora found her annoying and didn’t hesitate to push her away with rudeness. But Cassie was undeterred by her snarky responses. And one day, Aurora realized they were friends, not rivals.

Speaking of, it was time to shake off these maudlin thoughts and get back to work.

“Thanks for coming here for the consult,” she said, squeezing Cassie’s hand to let her know she was okay.

“Mrs. Hartley is too weak to be moved to Edenbrook. It’s an interesting case.” Aurora handed Cassie the tablet with the patient’s medical history and intake notes. “She’s not responding to any treatment. The team is stumped.”

Cassie grinned as she glanced over the tablet. “So, you’re admitting I’m a better diagnostician than you?”

Aurora smirked, rolling her eyes playfully. “That’s not what I said.”

“And yet, that’s what I heard,” Cassie teased with a wink.

Aurora chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m just saying I could use a fresh perspective—and you’ve always been annoyingly good at this.”

“Annoyingly good? From you, that’s a compliment of the highest order,” Cassie laughed, handing back the tablet. “Let’s go.”

They entered the patient’s room a few minutes later, the steady beeps of the machines echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

“Hello, Mrs. Hartley,” Aurora called out as she entered the room. “I’ve brought my colleague, Dr. Valentine, for a consult.”

Mrs. Hartley, who had been gazing out the window, turned her head on the pillow to greet them. Her eyes were warm as she took them in.

“Aren’t you two the prettiest little things,” she said softly. “It’s comforting to know my doctors are such accomplished young women.”

She pressed a button to raise the back of the bed. “Are either of you single? My son is, and he’s a lawyer. As handsome as his daddy was when he swept me off my feet nearly forty years ago.”

Cassie burst out laughing while Aurora blushed, unable to help feel a bit self-conscious.

“Sorry. Married,” Cassie held up her left hand with a smile.

“Well, I suppose your husband might object,” she added with a playful wink. “Maybe Dr. Emery, then?”

“Your son would be the lucky one in that scenario.” Cassie moved closer to the bed. “Now, I’ve reviewed your chart and Dr. Emery’s notes, but I’d like to ask you some questions…”

Aurora sighed in relief as Cassie tactfully ended the awkward conversation.

Was she really giving off such pathetic loser vibes that even her patients were trying to set her up?

A week later, Aurora leaned against the nurses’ station, taking the weight off her tired feet. She checked her team’s notes, making notations where needed. The sound of approaching footsteps and a throat clearing loudly caught her attention.

She looked up to see a man in his early to mid-thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, with an easy confidence in his stride. His three-piece suit looked custom-made—probably overkill for a warm summer day—and his tie was loosely knotted around his neck.

His hair was slightly tousled as if he’d run his hands through it too many times. Dark amber eyes reflected warmth and confidence, complementing his smooth, deep-toned skin.

“Dr. Emery?” he asked, his voice slightly low.

Aurora nodded, curiosity piqued. “Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?”

He extended his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m Logan, Logan Hartley. My mother, Joy Hartley, is one of your patients.”

Recognition dawned, and Aurora straightened, shaking his hand. “Of course, Mrs. Hartley. She’s recovering well after the surgery. I was just about to check on her.”

Logan’s smile widened, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. “That’s great to hear. She sings your praises every time I visit. Says you’re an angel in a lab coat.”

Aurora felt a slight blush creep up her neck. “I’m glad she’s in good spirits. She’s a wonderful woman.”

“She suggested—well, ordered, really,” Logan grinned, “that I introduce myself to you.” His eyes twinkled. “And I wouldn’t mind thanking the doctor who’s taken such good care of her.”

His tone was light, but there was something more in the way he looked at her—something that made Aurora’s pulse quicken just a bit.

Maybe it was the exhaustion from the last few weeks or the unexpected interest from a handsome man, but Aurora found herself smiling widely. “Thank you, but I’m just doing my job.”

Logan leaned against the counter beside her, close enough that she could catch the faint scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something citrusy. “Doing it very well, from what I hear. You must be really dedicated.”

Aurora sighed, a small, rueful smile playing on her lips. “I love what I do.”

“I can see that,” Logan said, his gaze lingering on her in a way that felt both mysterious and thrilling. “But I hope you also find time to enjoy life outside the hospital.”

The comment was casual, but the implication was clear, and Aurora felt her heart skip a beat. It had been a while since someone had looked at her like that and even longer since she had felt the desire to reciprocate.

A week ago, she’d wondered if the demands of her career would always be a barrier to her having a personal life. But here was a man who seemed intrigued, not deterred, by her passion for her work.

“I try.” Her voice was softer than intended. “Though it doesn’t always work out.”

Logan’s eyes met hers, holding them with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”

The flirtation was unmistakable now, and Aurora found herself at a loss for words—something that rarely happened to her. She wasn’t used to the feeling of being seen as more than just a doctor. But the way he was looking at her made her feel breathless.

“Maybe,” she admitted, finally finding her voice.

Logan’s smile was slow and deliberate, sending a warm thrill through her. “We should fix that. When you’re not saving lives, of course.”

Aurora outwardly hesitated but her heart fluttered at the unspoken invitation. She wasn’t the type of woman to just go with the flow. But planning every aspect of her dating life hadn’t worked out, and neither had the various dating app profiles.

So, why not take a chance on something new?

“And by we, I really meant me,” he added hurriedly, his eyes swimming with amusement. “I’m asking you out, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“I’d like that, Logan,” Aurora said, her smile matching his. “I’d like that a lot.”

-------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #choices open heart #aurora emery #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #playchoices #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #aurora emery & f!mc #cassie valentine

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daydream-cement · 2 years

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What about a sick Larissa wanting some comfort but being embarrassed to ask for it and show herself vulnerable but reader realizes she’s uneasy to ask for it…

I love your storiesssss!

My Little Patient

Characters: Larissa Weems x reader

Authors Note: I know I didn't have to be super descriptive, but everyone should get the opportunity to take care of Mommy Larissa™. This concept is adorable. Thank you, anon <3

You had gotten home early from work that day and were surprised to see Larissa's coat and shoes already inside the front door. Your girlfriend typically was at work until much later in the day.

When you didn't spot her in the living room or kitchen, you sought out the bedroom. As you stood in the doorway, Larissa was curled up in bed already which was strange. You approach her, glancing down at her face.

She looked miserable. You raise your fingers to her forehead, moving the stray hairs back into place. At first contact with her forehead, you notice she was burning up.

Larissa mumbled something to you. You couldn't quite make it out.

"Honey... Are you okay?" You hover over her, your fingers still stroking her forehead.

"Mmm, I'm fine," was all she could muster. Her eyes opened ever so slightly, but they shut just as easily as they opened, tiredness overtaking her.

She was obviously not fine.

"I think you might be sick... Do you have any symptoms?" You urge her to be more honest with you. Your eyes sweep the room for more evidence, you see tissues piled on the nightstand and Larissa's nose seems to be red from blowing it.

"Really I'm fine." She seemed grumpy at your insistence, snapping at you.

"Look at you being brave." You begin to tease her in a voice you save for pets and babies, hoping to bring a smile to her face, "My little patient needs to be taken care of."

You press kisses against her forehead and pinch at her cheeks, bringing a small smile to the woman's face.

"Seriously, Rissa... Can I take care of you?" You ask, voice returning to normal, seriousness overtaking you.

"Please..." Her voice seemed small, it looked like she was almost in pain asking for help.

"Okay good. Well first off let's get you out of your work clothes. Then I'm going to have you take a quick shower with one of these little tablets that sits on the shower floor. It will make your sinuses feel good. Then we are going to tuck you back in bed with a big glass of water and some cold and flu medicine. Later you can have some soup that I will make while you sleep."

You already had a whole game plan laid out, loving the idea of taking care of her for once.

Slowly, you helped her undress, pulling her shirt over her head and pressing comforting kisses to her now bare shoulders, "While you shower, I'll wash your clothes so they are nice and germ free."

"You've never been so attractive." She mumbled, resting her head on your shoulder as your unclip her bra.

You let out a small laugh, "Okay, honey. Time to stand up."

Larissa groaned and pouted as you took her hands, pulling her up from the bed. Her arms wrapped around your shoulders as you unzip her skirt, pulling it and her underwear down at the same time.

She then follows you to the bathroom. Larissa busied herself by unpinning her hair while you turn on the shower and find one of your shower tablets, dropping it near the drain. You take her hand and guide her to the shower, "Get clean. I'll be right back."

You busy yourself gathering her clothes and bringing them to the washing machine. You even remembered to take her bath towel and toss it in the drier to get warm while she was in the shower. While the washing machine and dryer ran, you brought a garbage can to the side of the bed, clearing the nightstand of tissues and leaving the can there for further use.

You were in the cabinet selecting a sleepy time cold and flu medicine for Larissa when the shower turned off. You rush to get Larissa's now warm towel, presenting it to her when she stepped out of the towel. Her eyes went soft at the gesture, her lip sticking out slightly.

"Get all dried off and put on your favorite pajamas." You place your hands on either side of her face and grant her with a kiss on the forehead as you busy yourself with your new caretaker duties.

Larissa dried off and changed. You shut the bedroom blinds and drew the curtains. Larissa was sitting in bed by the time you returned to her bedside. You offered her the shot of medicine and a glass of water.

"Now, you snuggle in and sleep. I'll be back to check on you in a bit." You take her glass of water and placing it on the nightstand. Larissa shifts back into the bed, obviously enjoying the fact that she was now in comfortable clothes and freshly showered.

Later that night when she woke up from her nap, you served her some of your famous chicken noodle soup. Afterwards you laid in bed with her, Larissa's head resting on your chest as you played with her hair.

"Thank you, honey." Larissa mumbled before she finally drifted off to sleep.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #sickfic #fanfic #oneshot #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #comfort

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

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Idia and his parents communicating ipad to ipad for Family day. I want to see it, it sounds like something out of a dystopia 😭 can you write it? (Hope I’m asking the right way!)

I seriously thought long and hard about censoring Idia's whole face out using his tablet in the banner 😂 I ended up choosing not to because leaving his face exposed makes Idia more vulnerable (which suits the tone of this interaction).

This piece was actually inspired by a scene from a cooking manga of all things if you can imagine that 😭 It was about two brothers fighting because they reacted so differently to a traumatic event; I reworked the elements of that for this scene

***Contains major plot spoilers for book 6 of the main story!***

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Idia.”

“Dad.”

The air between the two floating tablets was electric—not from the devices, but from the charged tension they emanated.

On one screen was a circle encasing a triangle and skull emblem, a generic symbol for Idia’s infamous voice calls. On the other screen was a man that could only be described as Death itself, pale skinned and blue lipped, suited in a pristinely lab coat. His hair was a blue blaze, and his mouth folded into a neutral line.

Ortho floated between the two tablets, his gaze darting nervously between them.

“So nice of you to pay your son a visit,” Idia spat. A mean, pessimistic bite to his speech was the norm—but these were different, coated in something stronger. Not quite hate, but the distinctively metallic flavor of masked hurt. “What am I in for this time?”

“I’ve come to check up on you,” Mr. Shroud said carefully, as if placing each word down with a fine pair of tweezers.

Idia couldn’t suppress an audible scoff from slipping out.

For as long as he had lived (though could one really define “living” as being cooped up in his room 24/7?), Idia had never known his father to be particularly warm. He was an aloof man, as icy as the pits of Tartarus itself, dedicating himself to research above all else. Results over emotions, and facts over feelings: that was how Mr. Shroud operated.

Something about his mere presence made Idia freeze over, his limbs lock up like a machine with cogs that hadn’t been greased. The man he called father—where had he and mother been when their son needed them most?

Two years. Two years of crying alone, grappling with his guilt and his fears, shut away from the world. Researchers passing him looks of sympathy, containing their whispers amongst themselves. It was the robot parts gifted to him that kept him sane, gave him some semblance of hope.

The limp body of a child, entirely indiscernible on the floor, was still so clear in Idia’s mind. Mangled, the warmth robbed from it. As cold and as lifeless as the machines that populated Styx HQ.

“Give him back. Give him back to me…! Give me all of Ortho… His body, his personalities, his memories! EVERYTHING!! I WANT IT ALL BACK!!”

His tears had run hot, but his parents’ blood had turned to solid ice. He had fixated, and they had seemingly forgotten.

“Kk, sure. I’ll buy it even though I actually don’t,” Idia said sarcastically. “Go off, say what you want to say.”

If Mr. Shroud was offended by his son’s tone, his face didn’t show it. “I wanted to ask if there have been any… issues since ‘the incident’. More specifically, among ex-subjects A through F, regarding their experiences within our facility.”

Because we neglected to wipe their memories with River Lethe this time, Idia knew. He wants to know if they’ve been running their mouths off about Styx with all the online rumors on secret organization going viral…

“How should I know? I don’t make it a habit of monitoring my classmates’ internet posts. And so what if they do? It’s not like anyone has proof…”

“This is a matter of great importance, young man. If word gets out about what we are and what we do…” Mr. Shroud frowned and shook his head. “It puts our entire operation in jeopardy. As future director, you should be taking this more seriously.”

“I didn’t make that choice,” Idia muttered. All I wanted… was to be normal. But no, that freedom was already taken from me before I was even born.

“What was that?” Mr. Shroud’s volume rose ever so slightly, brows subtly drawing together.

“Wah, let’s not fight!” Ortho interjected, holding up two hands. “It’s Family Day, Nii-san! We should be doing fun activities as a family. Will you join us, Mr. Shroud?”

“Ortho…” Idia bit back a protest.

Mr. Shroud’s expression shifted, adopting mild amusement. “… The world’s first self-improving technomantic humanoid.”

“Yup, that’s me!” Ortho twirled happily. His outfit—black and blue, just like the school uniforms of the Ignihyde students— shone wonderfully in the sunlight.

“Fascinating. It’s been equipped with a new gear which seems to being it something akin to human joy,” Mr. Shroud mused. “I assume this was your doing, Idia?”

At the other end of his tablet, Idia clenched his clammy fists. There he goes again, acting like people are his experiments. Just data to be stared at, manipulated and studied.

Annoyance colored the tips of Idia’s hair red. Ortho’s smile, his happiness, was genuine. Of that, Idia was certain—but it was a waste of his breath to try and convince his father otherwise.

For Ortho’s sake.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out. He expelled his pride, and his flames cooled back to blue.

“Yes, I made his College Gear. Ortho’s officially enrolled as a student now, so I don’t get what the big deal is. You signed off on it.”

“An artificial intelligence with the capacity for organic learning and growth is an ever-expanding field of interest. Your mother and I granted our permission for Ortho’s enrollment so as to collect data on…”

There was a rattle and a slam from the other end of Idia’s tablet. His shaky voice rose, fire burning red hot.“L-Look, I… I don’t care what you think of me, or about school, or your work. But don’t talk about Ortho like he’s just an object.”

“Technically speaking, it is an accurate statement.”

“Ortho’s so much more than that!! He’s my brother. Kehehe… If you can’t recognize that, then maybe you aren’t as smart as you like to think you are.”

Ortho’s eyes widened. “Nii-san…”

Mr. Shroud pursed his lips. “You’re being emotional. Let’s think about this rationally—”

“One day,” Idia continued, his voice cracking. “Just one day of being normal boys with a normal family. Can’t you at least give us that? No, I guess you can’t, because all you care about is getting your results. The feelings of your sons don’t matter.

“You won’t acknowledge Ortho as his own person, but you’re the one that’s more machine than man. We may as well not even exist until you need to call on us for something. Y-You..: You didn’t even cry when…!!”

“Idia.”

Mr. Shroud’s face was a marble mask, free from feeling—but in his eyes was an immense sadness. Despair swirling in a vortex of lost souls, locked away and the key thrown out. “You think you’re the only one who has been suffering? Your mother and I…”

He didn’t finish the thought. Or else the marble would crack, and a torrent of tears would escape him.

Idia went silent. Harsh accusations rested on the tip of his tongue, unsure if they would be spat up or swallowed down.

“… Human beings choose to mourn and to honor the dead in their own ways,” Ortho said quietly. “Coping is unique to the individual. Even so, I think it’s possible to understand one another.

“Nii-san, Mr. Shroud. Why don’t we do away with the screens and speak face-to-face? Maybe then… we could understand each other.”

Idia gave a bitter laugh. “… Sorry, Ortho. I don’t think I could do it.”

“But…”

“He is correct. From the looks of things, it would ultimately be a fruitless, futile effort. We’re done here,” Mr. Shroud declared. “You have the day off from classes, so you may spend it however you wish. Play your video games or whatever it is children do these days to amuse themselves.”

Idia snorted.

“… Be well. Until next time.”

Click!

His video feed abruptly ended. The cord between him and his children, cut.

Back at the Isle of Lamentation, Mr. Shroud pulled up a keyboard and notes on his device. He began punching in his report.

Day XX / Month XX

I was worried about Idia’s emotional and mental state in the aftermath of the incident. The boy has experienced a number of hardships as of late. Regardless, he seems to be doing well. He is still as reclusive and as snarky as he ever was. However, I observed a marked change in his behavior with regards to Ortho.

Idia has become rather protective of the android of his own creation. He now truly regards it as his own brother and reports to enjoy spending time with it. This could yield promising therapeutic results in the future.

I will continue to log his progress.

Signed,

Director Shroud

#Idia Shroud #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #NRC Family Day #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #spoilers #tw // death #angst

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fabtech01 · 2 months

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Comprehensive Bio Pharma Solutions: Advancing Biotechnology and Pharmaceutical Excellence

Explore comprehensive bio pharma solutions designed to enhance the biotechnology and pharmaceutical sectors. Our offerings include cutting-edge technologies, innovative products, and expert services tailored to meet the unique needs of biopharmaceutical companies. From research and development to manufacturing and regulatory compliance, discover how our solutions drive efficiency, ensure quality, and accelerate the path to market for life-saving therapies and drugs.

#pharmaindustry #tablet coating machine #pharmacy

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neocorp012 · 3 months

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Innovative Tablet Coating Machines in Ahmedabad

Neocorp is a pioneer manufacturer of tablet coating machines in Ahmedabad. We provide a wide range of tablet coating machines that are closed material handling, automated cleaning, uniform mixing and flexible batch sizes.

#Tablet Coating Machines #Tablet Coating Machines Manufacturer #Conventional Coating Machine #Automatic Tablet Coating Machine #Ahmedabad

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missamyrisa2 · 5 months

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I have been a fan of your blog for so long, Miss Amy, but have always been wayyy to nervous to interact! That being said, I wanted to tell you I am SO in love with your machine tickle scenarios! Especially anything with plenty of soft feathers and brushes… 💞

Awwwee darlingggg~!! I'm sooo flattered alwayssss and I would sayyyy don't worry you can always interact but I knowww how it goess~ I'm always a bashful messss any time I send someone an ask or comment~

Which just means you neeeed my Tickle Therapy bottttt to pay you a visitttt~ oooh don't worry that's just the sound of her hovering into your door with that slightly glitchyyy gitchy voiceee ~ "Time for your wellnessss sessssion~" she chimes, her shining pink sphere body smiling brightly as the padded clampy arms slide out with a woosh. Robotic hands in soft gloves spring out ahead of them and begin poking and adoring your blushy self, happily stripping away your clothes and stroking your cheeks and bellyyy while the bot moves in closer. Two hands teasingly descend carrying your tickle therapy outfit ~ the adorable pink fuzzy undies with dangly tickly tassles on either side. A team of hands is lifting and positioning you as per their protocol with beeps and whirrrsss, the soft soft fabric gliding up your legs to gently snugly rest on your royal area~

"Now, if you would juuuuust cooperate~" I lean into the room, tablet in hand as the clamps engaging on your wrists to hold you upright. "Mmmh. Mmhmmm~ tickle spotsss~" I muse, drawing my tablet pen up your wriggling body. "That's what I thoughttt~ riiight along hereee~" My pen glides up your ribs to your armpits as the bot follows with her scanner, beeping away and rumbling through tool selections. "Uh uhhhh~ riight down here toooo~ we'll need a full workup and yeahhh let's just get the big ~package~" I smirk, dipping my pen into my long white coat's pocket before grasping your side thoughtfully, my thumb carefully rubbing to feel for those squirms.

"Ta ta~~ enjoyyyyy" I grin, waving my fingers at you and patting my bot on the head, just as her compartments spring open revealing a swarm of feathers and supple makeup brushes. Two feathers begin cresting along your underarms in long strokes, while a blush brush glides across your waistline from hip to hip ~ tiny lip brushes begin detailing up your ribs, tracing each one carefully while a stiff feather tip carefully traces circles around your navel~

"Increase wellness capacity ~ deploying additional brushes ~ begin scrubbing procedure~" The bot announces, the lower compartments producing matching clampies for your ankles as you're lifted and positioned on your back, the tools following your movement and squirm. Her shining metal body hovers intently near your face, the smile taunting your ticklishness and encouraging it as verbal teases begin. "Ticklishness~!!" she declares, sending the scrubby brushes down to start working your soles from heel to toes, pausing at each end to stimulate thoroughly. At your belly the feather dips into your navel to probe about, and is then replaced with a mascara wand which glides in and begins twirling slowly ~ The feathers at your underarms move down to start teasing your royal chest buttons with wispy strokes while the lip brushes engage in painting along the rims of your pits working inward~

"Tickly tickly toooo~" She hums away, sending more implements to work your writhing body and extract all your giggles and gasps. Fluffy puffs tease at your neck and ears, and swishing dusters start trailing up your legs from knees to thighs and back down. "I'm going to tickly tickly toooo~" her not-quite-right teasing continues to warble away, the brushes moving from your feet up to your armpits for a gentle tickly scrubbing from underarms to upper ribs while feathers follow to your shining clean feet to carefully insert between toes and wave over your inner sole.

"Begin buffing procedure~" She suddenly announces, having received a command from my tablet. The buzz of orbital brushes begins, joined by wiggly clamps to carefully hold you by your hips. The clamps vibrate and tremble to not waste their grip, and the spinning brushes swirl up to begin their angular work on your bouncing tush~ coming in from each side to caress and whirl around, from under each cheek to your thigh backs and behind the knees ~ back up to tease at the small of your back and shoulders ~ and the army of makeup brushes and feathers at your front side are all there to catch every buck and bounce. "Completing the full Miss Amy package protocol~"

Adding an even further layer to the tickles are robotic hands carrying fluffy feathers. They carefully start inserting each one under your cute tickle outfit panties, setting each at a specific position and angle so that the incoming buzzy mini wands can begin vibrating the ends of all those feathers. "giiitchgiitchyygooo~" the bot taunts, making sure you feel every one of those trembling feathers as they are held to your most royal area~

Somewhere in the haze of your laughs and gasps and squirms, you see me there again, inspecting and hmmming over your twitching thrashing self ~ and on my tablet I make sure you see as I begin checking everyyyy day off to schedule you for sooo many more wellness treatments~<3

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adridoesstuff · 5 months

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DJKT JCS review (Apr. 2nd 2024)

Here's a short review (for my standards) of just what happens onstage during the recently premiered production of Jesus Christ Superstar in Pilsen. Cut is for length.

The main cast for the show on the day were: Pavel Klimenda (Jesus of Nazareth), Dušan Kraus (Judas Iscariot), Charlotte Režná (Mary Magdalene), Pavel Klečka (Pontius Pilate), Jan Holík (King Herod), Jan Fraus (Caiaphas), Radim Flender (Annas), Jaroslav Panuška (First priest/Company), Lukáš Jindra (Second priest/Company), Roman Krebs (Third priest), Martin Holec (Peter), Jakub Gabriel Rajnoch (Simon Zealotes), Apolena Veldová (Virgin Mary/Jesus' Mother)

Pre-show: The show starts all the way in the theatre lobby, where instead of DJKT’s usual ads for other of their shows, all the TVs show footage of the Roman in-show propaganda posters, which are sometimes interrupted with footage of Jesus and Judas. Once you enter the auditorium, you can see the set fully exposed, lights running left and right through the first few rows, the fog machine softly running and all the screens onstage showing in-show Roman propaganda posters, all of them talk about the strength and glory of the empire, how the empire protects It’s inhabitants and preserves the empire’s culture. On the graffitti covered metal fence are tacked on a few scrunched up posters with Jesus on them. All throughout, you can hear a soft mechanical whirring in the background. As the lights dim, Jesus and Judas slowly come onstage, followed by the apostoles, from the right offstage door and observe the set and the propaganda. Jesus raises his hand in a sudden motion and the mechanical whirring in the background stops and the overture starts.

Overture: During the first notes of the overture, you can hear a few women offstage screaming for help, presumably from Roman guards. Jesus pulls out a tablet from the backpack he’s carrying and starts tapping into it. The propaganda posters start glitching as Jesus evidently starts hacking into the system and are soon replaced with slightly glitchy footage of Jesus, immaculately dressed and presented as the ideal savior, complete with soft rays of sunlight in the background. The apostles start setting up camera equipment and ringlights around Jesus, preparing to shoot more footage. One of them starts fixing Jesus’s hair with a can of hairspray and adjusting his clothes, so that he looks immaculate, just like the perfect savior of the world should look like and not a single hair is out of place. Judas only looks on disdainfully as he once in a while takes a hit from his vape pen. During the middle of the overture, a Roman guard comes in from the other side of the stage with two women and forces them to take down the posters with Jesus from the fence. Jesus once again starts intensely tapping into his tablet, choosing which footage of him gets shown onscreen until the footage shown is without a single glitch and Jesus looks proudly at the work he accomplished.

Heaven on Their Minds: Evidently fed up with Jesus’s entire spiel, Judas takes away his tablet, turns it off and yeets it onto the ground in frustration. Jesus and all the other apostles give him a look of „Bro, what is wrong with you“ before Jesus takes his tablet again and gets back to working on it. All through the number, Judas looks longingly at Jesus and looks like he’s trying to explain and reason with Jesus that his entire plan is getting out of hand and dangerous. Jesus just waves off Judas’s warnings and runs offstage.

What’s the Buzz: Jesus excitedly leads onstage two ensemble women, presumably as new members of his team. He is evidently still innocently really excited about using his built up infuence to change the world for the better. The metal fence is drawn away, revealing the squat/campsite of Jesus’s followers. Mary Magdalene is already waiting there for the group to return. Jesus whips off his coat and gratefully lays his head in Mary‘s lap and croons in delight as she cools off his forehead and cards through his hair.

Strange Thing, Mystifying: As Jesus is lounging, Judas is evidently very fed up with all the attention that is not being given to him, but to Mary. He kneels down to Jesus and tries to reason with him that so openly associating with Mary as a former sex worker will only harm the entire image and brand Jesus is presenting publically. Mary is very hurt by this. Jesus jumps up from Mary’s lap, upset that Judas dares to offend Mary and as he lectures his apostoles that only one who is innocent should throw rocks into those like Mary, Judas picks up a crushed can and wants to throw it into Mary, but one „wtf bro?“ look from Jesus stops him. It’s evident that already here, Jesus is slowly starting to lose hope whether his apostoles truly mean things as seriously as he does

Then, We Are Decided: The apostle gang along with Jesus, Judas and Mary settle down around their tents in the dim further stage. The only thing breaking the dimness is the soft blue light from Jesus’s tablet as he continues scrolling through it. Annas pushes onstage a wheelchair-bound Caiphas and helps him wash up as they scheme how to get rid of Jesus.

Everything’s Alright: Attention back on the group. Mary notices a medicine seller in the background and taking off her silver tassel necklace along with snatching some small thing from the camp, she sells them in trade for an ointment. She takes Jesus away from the main tent camp (much to Judas‘ exasperation), but he still isn’t paying full attention to her, so she takes away his tablet and makes him lay down onto a pillow made out of his coat and backpack, where she can rub the ointment into his face. Judas starts off on Mary for both unwisely spending the group’s money and for being jealous of all the attention Jesus gives her. Despite Mary’s continuous attempts to get Jesus to rest, his attention is constantly drawn elsewhere, either to longingly staring at Judas or to a poor crippled woman upstage, who he runs off to heal with his touch. In the end, Mary gets Jesus to settle down next to the tents, but he still keeps on tapping into his tablet even as the lights go dim.

This Jesus Must Die: Caiaphas and Annas along with the priests appear up on a construction overlooking the tent camp, where Jesus and everyone else rest. They are now dressed in their full uniform and plot their next step as the screens show what looks like security camera footage of the group arriving in the half devastated city

Hosanna: Jesus and co are chilling in front of their tents when excited crowd of Jesus’s followers approaches them and sings praises for him. They take Jesus up on their shoulders and carry him to a pile of old bottle crates and other old stuff to preach to them from higher up, but he kneels down to them. Amid the crowd throughout the entire play can be seen Jesus’s mother, who is an added silent role within the production. She looks on what is happening to her son, offers a distant emotional support to him, but never interferes.

Simon Zealotes: After Hosanna, Simon is evidently not content with how conventional and tame it was, so with the words „You call THIS a hosanna?“ he leads the apostles and Jesus’s followers in a wild and energetic dance, singing about how they want Jesus to make love to them. Simon looks like has the full intent of destroying property as he sings of how Jesus can easily rule over Rome thanks to his influence. Jesus still stands on the spot he was raised up to by his followers and watches them with slowly escalating horror on his face. At first, he looks like he thinks all of Simon’s talk is just fun and jokes, but he slowly starts realizing that Simon is earnest about what he says and that despite all his peaceful and calm intent with only the hope to help perhaps help as many people as he can has started turning against him and his followers have started to radicalize and there is no way to stop them

Poor Jerusalem: Jesus calms down the raging mob of his followers and reflects on how not a single of them will ever truly understand him and the pressure that being known and famous brings with it. Judas wants to offer him consolation, but Jesus walks sadly away.

Pilate’s Dream: Pilate’s bed, full of ornamental pillows, is raised up from under the stage and he wakes up with a sudden jolt and recounts his nightmare, as if slowly recounting it.

The Temple: The set is flooded with the ensemble offering their wares and dancing around. Into this wild scene arrives Jesus, closely followed by Judas, and is evidently horrified at the scene. Jesus pulls out his phone to document what is happening. Judas tries to reason with him, try to make him put down the phone and lead him away from the scene, but Jesus is firmly set on what he wants to do. He starts filming the sellers, running around the set to get each of them on video in detail before he yells them out. After everyone leaves, Jesus looks very guilty over what he did, both because he broke his principles of being the kindest person he can be, but also because this might hurt his reputation by not aligning with the persona he and his team created. Slowly, the sick people slither onstage from the shadows and beg Jesus to touch and heal/help them. Jesus tries to ignore them and emptily stares into the audience with a sad gaze, but as the pleas get more insistent and he realizes there is no way to Ignore them, but also no way to help all of them, he starts breaking down into tears and desperate screams. He runs away from the crowd far stage right after he yells at them to heal themselves and flops down onto the ground, evidently holding back tears and trying to hide them from anyone seeing them.

Everything’s Alright (reprise)/I Don’t Know How to Love Him: Mary, now with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, tries to console Jesus, but he only hollowly answers her as he continues being huddled in the corner of the stage, hugging his knees. Mary Is evidently conflicted about her emotions towards Jesus, because she does visibly care deeply for him, but sees that he might never reciprocate her feelings. But, she bursts out into dance and appears to find happiness that she can be near him and his friend, and that thanks to Jesus, she has found a more fulfilling version of herself.

Damned for All Time/Blood Money: Judas looks very reluctant over his decision, pacing left and right over the set and looks rather scared of Annas and Caiaphas as they crowd around him. Annas holds out a red pouch of money in offer to Judas and only very reluctantly, Judas, with an outstretched hand under the pouch, but not touching it, tells them where to find Jesus.

Entr’acte: Jesus has one of his apostoles bring onstage a plastic foot basin and a gas can with water. He leads an apostole and then Peter to the basin and washes their feet. He then approaches Mary and helps her take off her shoes and stockings, while a few of the apostoles hoot as Mary takes the stockings off, and also washes her feet. Then, he approaches Judas, gently helps him remove one of his shoes and washes one of his feet.

The Last Supper: Judas helps set up a makeshift dining table out of crates and a wide board. The apostles sit around it and Jesus sits at the head, breaking up a loaf of bread into twelve chunks with his hands as the apostles pour one another wine. However, as Jesus sees his apostles eagerly bite into the bread as soon as it’s handed to them, without stopping to pray or discuss, a wave of melancholy goes over him. He sees that he himself is the only person there who actually cares about helping people and the world. He leaves the table to collect his thoughts, but even then, he is followed by Peter with a voice recorder, who is trying to catch everything that could be used for their campaign. He nervously paces around the set and throws off his coat as he says how he knows none of the apostles truly care for him, before quickly snatching up his tablet and to the protest of all the apostles deleting all files from it. When he says that he knows one of them will betray him, Judas steps forward, at first talking to Jesus very matter-of-fact-ly, as if he is trying to get this conversation over and done with as soon as possible, but he starts loosing his composure as the argument continues. Jesus is very hurt by the betrayer being Judas, seemingly berating himself for not realizing sooner that Judas would be the one to do this, and is trying to hold back tears all through their argument. Jesus tearfully yells at Judas to go away, but immediately clings to and embraces him. Judas embraces him in return and they sink to the ground, looking like they just want to stay in the embrace. Judas slowly separates himself and turns to leave, but as if trying to prove a point and justifying his decision, he paces around Jesus, who is still sitting slumped on the ground, eyes watery and unfocused. He tries to reason that Jesus was already hurling towards his demise and the broken state he’s now in is only a proof of that he Is not humankind’s savior, as if he’s trying to drive the knife deeper to mask that he doesn’t want to do this. Jesus once again brokenly yells at Judas to go and Judas reluctantly complies. The apostles lay down to sleep in their tents, leaving a broken Jesus alone onstage, who has been tearfully gazing in the direction Judas left.

Gethsemane: There are two stops intentionally included in the music. One as Jesus is about to start singing and the other before the first „Then I was inspired…“. Each time, the music stops as Jesus looks back towards where the orchestra is situated behind the set and he looks back almost in a plea that he doesn’t want to do this, that he doesn’t want to go through with the story and become a perhaps pointless victim all for wanting to help people. He starts almost pleading with God, but quickly turns spiteful and angsty over God deciding for him how his life will go. As he questions God what is the reason for him having to die, he climbs up the set structure, as If trying to get closer to him. Once he decides that he will do as God wants it and he will die, he screams in spite for God to watch on the destruction he’s about to cause. He ends the song bitterly resigned with tears in his eyes.

The Arrest: Judas arrives with guards in tow and approaches Jesus alone, talking to him in an almost mocking manner to mask his pain over what he’s about to do. The kiss is a gentle and brief one on the lips, as if Judas wants to get over with it as quickly as possible, but Jesus visibly leans into it with teary eyes. Jesus’s delivery of „Must you betray me with a kiss?“ with an emphasis not on the betrayl, but on the kiss and him putting a little pause before the kiss part, as it it’s hard to say out loud. The guards step forward and Jesus willingly offers them his hands to tie up. Peter tries to interfere and hits one of the guards on the head. Jesus immediately takes away his weapon while berating him and turning to the guard, he touches the wound to heal it. Annas and Caiaphas arrive. Through the scene, Judas has been trying to hide in the left corner of the stage, trying to look as if he had no part in this, until Annas directly thanks him for helping in arresting Jesus, upon which he frightfully departs.

Peter’s Denial: A few ensemble members are warming by a trashcan fire, when Peter goes by them, trying to hide his face with the hood of his yellow raincoat. He tries to play off the first denial with a smile and energy of „this Is just a stupid coincidence“, but his third denial is really angry and desperate. Mary appears at the back of the stage, worried over what Peter just did, but tries to comfort him when she sees how much it hurt him to deny knowing Jesus.

Pilate and Christ: The set changes to Pilate’s palace, complete with two green wall chandeliers made out of used bottles. Jesus is brought forth in front of Pilate, who is in his full opulent fur trimmed costume. For the questioning, Jesus is tied to the bars of a cage, which looks to be connected to electricity and made for torture via electroshocks, the guards bring forth. Mary and Peter can be seen in the background, being held back by guards. Jesus is unbound from the cage as Pilate sends him off to Herod.

King Herod’s Song: Into the earlier entry door of Pilate’s palace backs in a beaten up car with Herod sitting on the smashed in car hood. The entire song, Herod relishes in the destruction and chaos he’s causing and in traumatizing Jesus. Specifically, he pulls out the cut off head of John the Baptist from a fridge they have on set and throws it around with his minions like a ball, before rolling it onto the ground. Jesus immediately recognizes John in the head and breaks down onto the ground crying and whispering John’s name, as if trying to apologize to his spirit for being a contributing factor in why Herod executed him. Herod also very roughly slaps Jesus across the face before leaving.

Could We Start Again Please: The graffiti covered metal fence is drawn back over the set as Mary, Peter and the apostles come forth. Mary has her shawl drawn up over her hair and leads the group in a collective prayer, seemingly filling in Jesus’s place as the spiritual leader of the group. The motions the group pray with are similar to the way early Christians prayed, with both their hands raised to the sky. Mary is close to tears by the end of the number.

Judas’s Death: Judas runs onstage as the screens show footage of Jesus getting brutally beaten up by the guards, with repeated close ups on his bloodied and bruised face with tears pooling in his eyes. Judas looks very remorseful over what happened, but he tries to hold himself together all through the „I Don’t Know How To Love Him“ part. By the end of the number, he is bitterly and manically laughing up at God as he is about to hang himself. God might have had control over the narrative, but this way, Judas feels like he is taking his fate into his own hands.

Trial before Pilate: Jesus is once again brought forth, visibly weak and beaten up. Pilate circles him as a guard with a turned on phone walks in front of him and „livestreams“ the entire trial onto the big screens onstage. Mary can once again be seen in the background, being held back by the guards and looking on in worry. The crowd in the back part of the stage demands Pilate sentence Jesus to crucifiction, even when Jesus is visibly barely managing to stand and brutally beaten up. To calm the crowd, Pilate has Jesus flogged, where the guards drag him into the cage, tear away all his clothes and tie him to the bars facing away from the audience. With each hit, the lights in the room flicker. After 39 times of being hit, Mary manages to fight her way through the guards and as Jesus’s ties are loosened, she gives him a loin cloth to cover himself. As Jesus turns back towards the audience, his chest and face are visibly bloodied. Pilate tries to empathetically reason and come up with a way to somehow save him. Jesus barely, but chillingly whimpers the „Everything is fixed and you can’t change It“. The cross, which looks to be made of old iron, gets dragged onstage, with a blank cardboard plaque above the head. Pilate is handed a can of blue spray paint and paints on the Initials JC as he tells his verdict.

Superstar: A red cloth is placed around Jesus’s shoulders and a crown of thorns is forced onto his head as Judas, now wearing a red turban/headwrap instead of the previously gray one, and the soul girls, dressed as angels all in red and with giant wings, are rolled in onstage. Judas and the angels dance around and sing as the entire carrying of the cross Is recreated. Jesus falls under the cross three times, he is followed by a crowd of weeping women where he notices his mother, one of the apostles tries to help him carry the cross, he is offered a cloth to wipe his face into by Veronica. At one point, as Jesus is carrying the cross, Judas starts dancing in front of him and sort of leading him where he should go. During the final chorus, Jesus falls a third time, but away from the audience’s gaze.

Crucifiction: The cross is raised up, Jesus hanging on it with bright stage lights behind him. He whimpers on it, sometimes almost incoherently through the pain. He calls weakly his mother, who has to only watch from down below and can’t save him. All she can do is calm a weeping Mary in her arms. Jesus dies with a final whispered „Father, into your hands a commend my spirit“ and remains limply hanging on the cross.

John Nineteen:Forty-One: The cross is lowered and Peter with one other apostle take Jesus’s body off of the cross. They lay him into his mother’s arms in a pose similar to Pieta sculptures, so she can say her goodbye and then lay him on the ground, letting Mary say her goodbye. They cover up Jesus’s body with a sheet, but after they remove it after a few seconds, but Jesus’s body has disappeared. Everyone onstage lokes into the skies as they sing out the last notes.

#jesus christ superstar #jcs #djkt #djkt jcs #such an incredible show to witness #djkt once again proved they know how to make great musical productions #Adri rambles

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hamsterbellbelle · 3 months

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Additional CC list for Evergreen Family Home🎦:

A.I. mirror/TV || Appliances tower/microwave/fridge/cabinet || Bar cart/beach ball/lounge chair/cooler || Bathroom counter || Bench (bedroom) || Blinds || Bookcase || Books/ Tablet PC || Books/wall lamp || Books - A - B - C - D || Bowls || Bread box ||

Card wallet || Ceiling light/outdoor table/calendar || Ceiling light || Ceiling/Floor || Chair with clothes || Coat stand || Coffee table || Computer || Conduit || Cookie (deco) || Corkboard/file holder || Cup stand/trays/kitchen rack || Curtain ||

Doors/archway || Doors || Drain || Drink crate || Entrance sign || Floor || Folded clothes || Folders/papers || Hamper (deco) || Hamper (functional) || Hamster bedding || Hamster cage/hamster cleaning tools/pet food || Handbag || Inflatable pool || Intercom ||

Kids bed/bedroom items/toys/bookshelf || Kids drawings || Kitchen trashcan || Ladder/paint can/tool box || Loveseat || Magazine || Mirror || Mirror || Paint bucket || Pet toy bin || Plant pots || Plants/dining chairs/chair with bag || Plants - A - B - C - D - E || Pots || Pouf ||

Radio || Rug (bathroom) || Rug (kitchen) || Shoes (boots)/umbrella basket/wall frames || Shoes (sandals) || Shoes/coat rack || Shoes/wall phone || Shoes || Side table (living room) || Side table (outdoor) || Sink (bathroom)/bathroom clutter/toilet paper || Sink (kitchen) || Stationery mug || Suitcases || Surge plug ||

Tissue box || Towel || Toy (bear) || Toy (unicorn) || Toys (frog) || Toy/box || TV || Wall bicycle/CD player || Wall boiler || Wall photo || Wall shelf || Wall stickers || Wallpaper/hair dryer || Washing machine/laundry items/ironing board || Water jug/paper bag || Wine bottle || XBOX One S ||

🐹 🐹 🐹 🐹 🐹

Animated magazine || Animated Maneki Neko || Archway || Suitcase || Wire ||

#sims4 #ts4 #cclist #myfinds #cc #familyhomes

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robotrightsactivist · 6 months

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A sewage leak anywhere was an unwelcome thing, but the loss the gravity generators made the situation considerably more daunting. Sam had done it a few times before, but this one was pretty nasty. If he were just another maintenance bot, he would at least be able to turn off his smell. But unfortunately for Sam, he was designed to imitate human biological processes as closely as possible, and the maintenance firm he was employed by specialized in what the others refused. And he was a janitor, and janitors on this level of Brightstar Station were rarely able to authorize a maintenance bot to do the job for them. Too valuable, get a human to do it. Better yet, get an illegally employed non-human worker to do it for cheap. Which left Sam.

Thankfully they let him shower afterwards, which was nice even if he was in a full protective suit. The fact that it would recycle the air meant that it still let the air in, and that the suit was fifty years old meant the filters half-worked about half the time. Sam was just grateful that no one bothered him at work. Not that anyone would talk to him anyways, because even in the impossible scenario where he was human he was still awkward. Too nervous to say the wrong thing. To not know the right thing. It was easier to be quiet than to step into an interaction that would reveal how obviously non-human he was.

Sam had overheard through the conversations of off-stationers that other bioroids existed, elsewhere in the Sol System, but the way and how of their existence so wildly varied between total subjugation (Saturn, Uranus, most moons of Jupiter) and full citizenship (Venus, Mercury, some places on Earth) that leaving seemed too risky. Out here, in the Oort Cloud, all machines were product, which was good or bad depending on where you were and who you were with. And after what he had been through, an uneventful and repetitive existence was a luxury.

Once the common areas had thinned out and everyone else had left for home, Sam checked all the empty corridors that were more common towards main generators. Once he was sure there were no wandering groups of ill-intended human teenagers, dealers, and other folk he’d rather not bump into, he quickly made his way through the passages.

Eleven floors down and seven halls space-side, there was what appeared to be a stunted hallway. There, Sam looked over his shoulder, checked the cameras and when he was again sure no one knew he was there, he used the old janitor’s key to unlock the closet.

The long and narrow room was Sam’s home, a collection of discarded utilities and repurposed treasures delicately fitted into a living space where he had spent almost a decade. The welcome mat made of many pieces of fabric, he found that in the trash after an art fair, the antique wooden coat hanger holding all the outfits Sam could possibly wear, the metal shoe rack where all three of his shoes lived when he wasn’t working. His small collection of discarded carpets, lining the floor, each a different texture and feeling on his bare feet. The mattress in the far corner was discarded for being a few centimeters too short, that was an amazing find. Sam had no shortage of discarded blankets, but he especially loved the quilt he snatched from the mouth of the carbon recycler, and pillows were easy to refurbish if one knew how to do it. He had many books, some very new and others very old. Sam needed to eat eight hundred and sixty one calories every four days, so he was thrilled to find a battery operated freezer-chest, where inside he kept a rotating assortment of frozen meals he could heat up in the mini stove. The tablet with the slightly-fractured screen, where he could watch media on the public channel. He enjoyed watching old movies if he could find them. Sam avoided the news and anything that reminded him of the world outside his little home.

And of course, there were dioramas. Every corner and every unused space of the closet had a different diorama, of landscapes, of houses, of buildings, of gardens and trees and fantastical worlds. A city square in a magical town populated with different non-human creatures, that took almost nine months. A group of tentacled aliens on a camping trip, sharing stories while a unicorn watches from the trees, four months. The inside of a garden cottage where a friendly witch was teaching her apprentice how to cook eggs, six months. The temple of a crystalline goddess visited by a pilgrim of stone, he was still working on that. A treehouse where a family of mice lived happily, fourteen months. Those were his favorites, but there were many others, all beautiful and intricate and engrossing. Sam read books on painting, sculpting, and organic chemistry so he could make the right adhesives, the right paints, the right techniques, the exact materials to make his little pockets of reality. Sam loved them all.

Near his bed was a small wooden frame, and inside it was a photo of a ten-year-old boy with red hair beaming while holding a trophy. It was when Samuel won the junior station judo tournament, two months before the accident that killed him. To Sam, the memories were like the grainy clips of media civilians pirated from visiting ships, translated fictions conveyed through filters of understanding. When Sam awoke for the first time, he knew he wasn’t Samuel, but Sam did his best to play the part his parents wanted, because he wanted to be loved by them and make them happy. But after a year, and subsequent visits to the synthetic reproduction firm that had made him, Sam became his parents’ preferred object of scorn. Mother asked him questions designed to humiliate him, as if his pretending to be their son was something he plotted. “You’re hurting my feelings,” Sam would say to dissuade her. Eventually, Sam’s efforts to defend himself would be catalyst for Father to start hitting him. This continued for years, and even as Sam grew older and his body became taller and stronger and his voice changed, Father would continue to find reasons to hurt him. Sometimes Mother sat and watched it happen, that was agonizing. They spent almost half their wealth into seeking out a black market designer and commissioning them to recreate a dead human from neural scans, creating a bioroid engineered to love them as a human child would, why would they hurt him? When Sam was legally fifteen, he saw that Father was looking for him with a knife in his hands. Sam remembered what the warranty said about accidents, that if he was brought back in decent condition he could be harvested for parts. That night, Sam fled his parents’ pavilion, resisting every program and every cloudy memory telling him he loved his parents and they loved him. Samuel was loved by his parents, and he loved them. Sam wasn’t sure he did, not anymore, but when Sam recognized Samuel’s face in an old print magazine, he cut it out and found a frame to put it in. Around it, Sam placed little objects Samuel would like: action figures, interesting stones, the occasional old coin. Sam liked to believe that somehow, somewhere, Samuel appreciated this little shrine.

When he remembered it, Sam fished his latest find from the deepest pocket in his overalls, and set it before the frame.

“I found this today,” Sam said to his ghost. “Can you believe they’d throw out an action figure like this? Look, he can do a butterfly kick!” Sam tapped the foot of the action figure, and it sprung into a perfect butterfly kick and landed on two feet. Samuel often practiced those and hoped to get it right someday, when he was big and strong.

Sam remembered Samuel not wanting to die. He remembered being pinned under the column that would crush him to death as soon as his arms couldn’t hold it up anymore, how he held on even as his arms went numb. How he had so much to live for, how could it end right now?

So, Sam would live as best he possible for as long as he could. If things on the Brightstar got too rough, there was a little wallet where he had hoped he saved enough money to leave, maybe to one of places some rumored to be friendly to machine beings. But for now, this was good.

#original fiction #yeah I’m posting original snippets here now. it will happen again #longer form I’ll have to find some other format #androids #ocs #idk!!#robots #android #robot

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