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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Book of the Dead

Genre: The Mummy AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world.

Part 1 I Part 2

“I just said a few sentences!”

“What did you do that for!”

“Well, I didn’t know that that would happen!”

You stared at the aggravating, self-absorbed, cocky Korean soldier and wondered why on earth you had decided to negotiate for this man’s life.

Alright, you did know why. You needed him to show you to Hamunuptra - the fabled City of the Dead.

Too many times you had stood in front of the museum curator with pages and pages of references and evidence that the place existed and just needed a small team of archeologists in order to track it down. He’d shot you down every time. And each time he took the liberty of reminding you that while your father was an exceptional explorer who had many successes under his belt, you were a woman whose life had been spent between the shelves, cataloging. Your adventures consisted of the fictional kind, devouring any novel you could when you weren’t archiving the latest crate of artifacts and texts.

Then your cousin showed up. Your normally useless, hare-brained, erratic, drunkard cousin showed up at your apartment with a “fun new artifact” he found on his latest trip. And suddenly your luck had completely turned around.

Or so you thought.

Now you were standing in the middle of Hamunaptra, feet sinking into the unstable sand, with an empty sarcophagus and everyone blaming you because you did what you did best - read.

It was only a book. Albeit, a very heavy, possibly-made-of-painted-solid-gold book that was written in the dead language of ancient Egypt, but still. What harm had ever come from reading a book?

Kim Junmyeon stared at you as if you were the one who had risen from the dead. You were still stunned at how different he looked from when you had first met him in that smelly prison, minutes away from being hanged. His hair had been long and stringy, clumps of dirt clinging to the dark brown strands that brushed his shoulders. Now it was shorter, cut above his ears and gelled back in the current style that almost made him look like a gentleman. The several days’ stubble was long gone to reveal smooth skin and a sharp jawline. He was actually very handsome - when he was cleaned up.

Stupid, you hissed at yourself. Now was not the time for this. Because right now there seemed to be a reanimated mummy running around here. And by the looks of Barney’s husk of a body lying deep within the temple underground, it was hungry.

As it should be, given the three thousand years it spent locked up under piles of sand.

“Really, you should have been more careful!” your cousin, Baekhyun, scolded.

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. You were the one who snatched the key off of Mr. Kim here at one of your seedy bars and then proceeded to lie to me and say that you found it on a dig in Thebes which in turn brought us here!”

Baekhyun opened and closed his mouth as he searched for a possible retort.

“I think this is more your fault,” Kim Junmyeon’s own cousin and traveling partner, Oh Sehun, said. “You told us to go down a level and dig under the statue, which in turn,” he mocked your tone almost precisely, “caused the mummy to be able to get out of his sarcophagus. If we had dug somewhere else entirely, then he’d still be trapped under the statue of Anubis.”

“Despite the fact that it was two layers deep, nothing would have been able to hold a victim of the Hom-Dai.”

“Would have given poor Barney a chance,” Kim Junmyeon muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare that he hardly noticed.

“I say that we get out of here and to the safety of the city before the mummy finds us.” Oh Sehun swallowed thickly. “Or worse. The beetles find us.” The supposedly brave soldier who had two pistols hanging under each arm was more terrified of the flesh eating bugs than he was the living mummy that was bringing about the ten plagues of Egypt. You’d already lived through the locust infestation, but that was always the most minor of the plagues. In your opinion.

“We told you to leave,” Ardeth said in that low, monotone voice that made him seem centuries old. You had only known him for a few hours, but you already feared and respected him. Despite the fact that he had attacked your campsite the night before. “Now you have condemned the whole world to the very monster that we have spent three thousand years keeping hidden.”

Kim Junmyeon finally tore his face away from yours. “I told you. I shot him. He went down.”

“Mortal weapons are useless against this creature. None can kill him.” Stepping up, he stood toe to toe with the soldier who led you here. “A gun is nothing more than a fly to him. He will never eat. He will never sleep. And he will never stop. Not until this world is only sand.”

Though still not completely backing down, Kim Junmyeon took hold of your arm. “Come on. We’re going back to Cairo.”

The camel ride back to the city was long, tiring, and a bit painful, if you were honest. The inside of your thighs were sore from keeping you up right on the animal’s back for hours on end under the blazing heat. You were used to the comfortable back seat of a car, even if the roads here tended to be on the bumpier side. Kim Junmyeon stayed at your side the entire time, up until you were back in your hotel room. All your things were still in there. That was nice, even if it was to be expected. The desk clerk had sworn he would keep the room reserved for you until you made it back. And now that you had, you were on to the next fight.

“We’re not going anywhere!”

Kim Junmyeon pretended not to hear you as he started emptying the dresser drawers of your clothes and stuffing them in your suitcases lying open on the bed.

“Excuse me! I said we’re not going anywhere!” As soon as he stepped away again, you slammed the suitcase shut. A stray white cat that you didn’t have the heart to remove from your room took advantage of the newly available space and laid down on the surface of the luggage. Unbothered by the argument taking place in its presences, it purred as it curled into a ball and closed its eyes.

“You keep using the word ‘we’ and I’m not sure why,” he said. “I believe you were the one who woke him up in the first place.”

“Yes, I get it!” you shouted. “Everyone can blame me because I read the damn book, but that is why we need to stop him.”

He closed the empty drawer and turned back around to face you. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You heard Ardeth. No mortal weapon can kill this guy.”

“That’s why we’re going to find some immortal ones.”

He pulled a pair of rounded glasses from his pocket, wiped the lenses with his shirt, and stuck them on the bridge of his nose. “There goes that ‘we’ business again.”

You huffed, trying not to focus on the newest version of the soldier now being presented in front of you. “Yes, we. Because this curse will continue to get worse until the whole world is destroyed.”

“And that’s my problem?”

“It is everybody’s problem! You live here, too!”

Kim Junmyeon stepped up until he was mere inches away. “Listen. I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I agreed to this idiotic mission my objective was to show you the way and then bring you back here. I have done that. End of job. End of story. Contract terminated.”

You tried not to show how his last few words affected you. Though you had been a little intoxicated two nights ago, you still very much remembered how sweet he had been, how he had listened to you go on and on about your parents and how much you wanted to be a famous adventurer like your father. And how you almost kissed him. And how he was going to kiss you back. Stupidly, you had thought that there was something growing between you. Apparently, you had been wrong.

“Is that all I am to you?” you whispered. “A contract?”

Kim Junmyeon blew out haughtily from his nose. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You waited in hopes that he would contradict you. That he would say, no that was not all you were to him. And it really seemed like he would be saying something along those lines. But other words came out instead.

“Look. You can either come with me or you can try and stay here and save the world. So. What’s it going to be?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “I’m staying.”

“Fine.” He headed for the door.

“Fine,” you bit back, following him.

“Fine,” he threw at you again as he barely glanced over his shoulder.

“Fine!”

He got the last word in before slamming the door to your room shut.

You huffed as you crossed your arms. Yet, as angry as you were, you still hoped that he would come back. That he wouldn’t let you take this on alone. But the footsteps on the other faded away and you were alone.

Looking around your room, you didn’t think there was much you could do. So, you did what you were best at. You grabbed all the books you thought could help you and got to reading.

While sitting in the wicker chair in the corner, you skipped around the books and pages, clinging on to any small word that you thought could lead you to a possible solution. There wasn’t much to be found, unfortunately. Most works spoke of how to perform the Hom-Dai and how it should never be performed due to the curse that awaits should the victim ever be awakened. You already knew that. You needed specifics on what to do after the victim came back.

“(Y/n)!”

Kim Junmyeon came bursting back into your room. You slammed the book in your hands closed, feeling very high and mighty indeed.

“Ah. Mr. Kim. Have you changed your mind?”

“Doesn’t matter now, he’s here!”

“What!”

He didn’t clarify as he hoisted you up out of the chair and pulled you out of the room, and into the hall. Through the windows, you watched in horror as fire fell from the heavens. The balls of flame engulfed anything it touched when it landed, whether it be plant or human life. Turning a corner, Kim Junmyeon ran into a room you knew was occupied by another one of the Americans that you had ran into on your way to Hamunaptra. You gasped.

In the chair, now nothing more than dried, husky skin and hollow bones was… oh, dear you couldn’t remember his name. You hadn’t bothered to learn them. You and Baekhyun had simply referred to them as the “Bloody Americans”. You were feeling a bit awful about that at the moment.

But you didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Standing in front of the fireplace was a new version of the mummy. His skin was starting to come together, though patches were still missing, allowing you to see the gray bone and lack of organs underneath. Kim Junmyeon pulled out both of his guns as the mummy stalked forward.

“We are in deep trouble,” he murmured before opening fire. The loud pops banged on your poor eardrums. You stumbled back a few steps to try and soften their blows. It didn’t work.

The bullets passed through the mummy as if they didn’t exist at all. Even when Oh Sehun and the other Americans came running into the room and firing off their own guns, the mummy still kept going. He shoved Kim Junmyeon back into the others as if he were nothing more than old wrappings. Then he turned on you.

Completely unarmed, you stumbled back until you were betrayed by the bookshelf behind you. There was nowhere to run. Instead of sucking out your liver, however, he spoke.

“You were the one who saved me from the afterlife.” His words were haunting, echoing as if he was speaking in a cavern. And the language he spoke… ancient Egyptian. You weren’t sure why you expected to speak anything else. Coming in closer, he lowered his voice. “I thank you.”

He leaned in his head, those very human eyes lowering to your lips. You turned your head away to try and avoid the kiss, confused as to why he was trying to seduce you.

Sharp, unpleasing notes from the piano pierced through the air. The mummy turned and gasped when he saw the white cat from your room walking across the keys. In a whirl of sand, he fled from the room.

“Oh, thank god,” you said with a heavy breath.

“No kidding,” Kim Junmyeon groaned as he sat up.

You ran to his side, fearful that he might have been injured. “Are you alright, Mr. Kim?”

“Yes,” he huffed. With a very odd expression, he added, “And I told you to call me Junmyeon.”

To be honest, after your fight, you didn’t think you would be allowed to anymore. A strange silence settled between you. He was trying to say something with his gaze, but you couldn’t interpret it. So, instead, you helped him to his feet. “Come on. I know who we need to talk to about all of this.”

It took a while to get back to the museum that had employed you for the past year or so. Every street was full of panicking people. Flames no longer fell from the heavens, but little fires still raged on homes and carts. The Americans had declared that they were coming along, so your group was slower in moving. Although you didn’t really want the mummy bait to be anywhere near you, Junmyeon and Sehun decided that it would be better to keep an eye on them and - hopefully - keep them out of the mummy’s grasp.

“Dr. Bey!” You ran into the museum’s main storage room, happy when you saw the curator. But then you skidded to a stop at the sight that he wasn’t alone.

Ardeth was talking with him in hushed tones that stopped the second you appeared. Both men turned towards you, the curator wearing a very readable expression. It was one that stunk of “I told you so”. The others were only a few steps behind. As soon they, too, saw the unexpected visitor, Junmyeon, Sehun, and the Americans pulled out their guns while Baekhyun simply squeaked in surprise.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Bey greeted as if this were any old meeting on a Tuesday.

“What is he doing here?” Junmyeon demanded. Even with the black tattoos etched under Ardeth’s eyes, you could tell that he was tired, dark circles from lack of sleep bruising his skin.

Dr. Bey raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know? Or perhaps you would prefer to just shoot us?”

“Either sounds good.” Junmyeon cocked back the hammer of one of his guns for emphasis.

“Stop it,” you hissed. “Bullets won’t do any good here. Besides, you might damage some of the artifacts.”

Junmyeon failed to suppress a laugh over your concern. Despite the present danger, you still didn’t want to see the carriages or sacred jars damaged because someone got trigger happy. So, Junmyeon holstered his guns and the others soon followed suit. “All right. I’ll give a little faith.”

Dr. Bey motioned for the group to follow him in deeper. “We’re part of a secret society-”

“Aren’t they all?” Baekhyun muttered. Both you and Dr. Bey shot him glares that made him snap his mouth shut.

“For over three thousand years, we have guarded the City of the Dead. Once we reach manhood, we swear an oath to do anything and everything in our power to stop the high priest Imhotep from rising from the grave.”

“And now we have failed. Thanks to you.” Ardeth gave you a particularly pointed look.

By now, you were getting very irritated with the constant finger pointing. What was done was done. You were not going to show him any cowardice. “And that justifies the murder of innocent people?”

“Hm. To stop this creature?” Dr. Bey pretended to think for a moment. “Yes.”

Junmyeon, untroubled by that, raised his hand from the golden seat of a dead royal that he had taken over. “I have a question. Why doesn’t he seem to like cats?”

“Cats are the guardians of the underworld. He will fear them until he reaches full regeneration.”

“Then there will be nothing that he fears.” Worry was very much apparent in the soldier’s voice.

“And you know how he gets regenerated?” one of the Americans asked rhetorically.

The other one finished. “By tracking those of us down who opened the chest and sucking us dry like a nomad in the desert, that’s how!”

It was completely pointless to go over the things that were already known. Now was the time to try and piece the unused parts together. Two particular moments were sticking out in your head.

“Back in Hamunaptra, the priest - Imhotep - he called me Ack-Su-Namun. And then just now at the hotel, he….” You cringed at the memory, thankful that you didn’t have to feel the decomposed skin against your own. “He tried to kiss me.”

“It’s because of Anck-Su-Namun and his love for her that he was cursed,” Dr. Bey explained, exchanging a look with Ardeth. “Even after all this time….”

“He’s still in love with her?” Sehun finished with a scoff.

You appreciated the backstory, however - “As romantic as that is, what does that have to do with me?”

“Perhaps he will try to raise her from the dead once again?” Ardeth guessed.

“Yes,” Dr. Bey agreed solemnly. “And it would seem that he has already chosen his human sacrifice.”

All eyes in the room turned to you. Wonderful.

Not only were you the one who read from the book and raised him, but you would also be responsible for the return of his beloved, who was the reason he was cursed in the first place. Absolutely beautiful.

Baekhuyn came up behind you and patted your shoulder. “That is some rotten luck, dear cousin.”

“Actually, this could work in our favor,” Dr. Bey countered. “It could give us time that we desperately need to kill the creature.”

“We’ll need every second, I think,” Sehun said. He pointed towards the ceiling. “I think he’s getting stronger.”

Through the large window high up on the wall, the sun was in clear view. You all watched in horror as the moon moved too quickly across the sky and blocked the light from reaching Earth.

“I’m guessing this is the plague of darkness?” Baekhyun said ominously. You nodded slowly.

“Let’s go,” Junmyeon said softly beside you, his hand coming up protectively behind your back. “We’ve got to get back to the hotel and come up with a plan.”

“I’m just saying, it seems very stupid to comdem someone to a curse when the result of that would be for them to come back a supernatural creature who is practically unkillable.”

“The ancient Egyptians believed in balance,” you explained to Baekhyun for the hundredth time in your life. “To curse someone so badly in both this life and the next, there has to be a consequence to balance out the scales. If not, then the whole world could still fall apart, in even worse ways!”

“All of this is kind of pointless now, isn’t it?” Sehun sighed from the small table in the antechamber to your room. His feet were up on the polished surface as he leaned back in his seat. A look of irritation was etched on his face as he stared at your cousin. “What’s done is done. Right now, we need to focus on our next step.”

“Well, I know you two,” you pointed to the Americans, “opened the chest. As well as Barney. Was there anyone else?”

“The Egyptologist that was with us,” the shaggier one answered. “Professor Chamberlain. He has a temporary residence a few blocks over.”

“What about my best friend Beni?” Junmyeon asked. You nearly snorted. You knew the two of them were anything but friends.

“No. He ran out before we took the lid off. Ended up saving his own skin.”

“Sounds like Beni,” Junmyeon said dryly. “Okay. We’re going to go get the Professor. You four,” he pointed to all the men, “come with me. You, stay here.”

Oh, no you weren’t. “Excuse me! I am just as capable as any of them are. I will not- What do you think you’re doing!”

Junmyeon marched over to you, picked you up, and carried you over his shoulder until you were in your room. Then he dropped you on the floor, closed the door, and locked it tight. “This door doesn’t open.”

You didn’t know who he said it to, who he left in charge of watching you like an infant. It didn’t matter. You pounded your fist against the solid wood door. “Baekhyun! Junmyeon! Let me out! Baekhyun, you coward! Help me out here!”

“Sorry, cousin!” Baekhyun yelled on the other side of the door. “But… he’s got a gun.”

“Smart choice,” you heard Junmyeon say. Oh, you were going to kill him. Which “him” was yet to be decided. Perhaps both would be most satisfactory.

Well, now you were stuck here.

Crossing your arms, you sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated your choices. Not that you had many.

A yawn forced its way out. You were tired. Over the past few days, you had hardly been able to get any real sleep. And, well, now seemed to be a time. So, you changed into your nightgown and slipped under the covers. The mattress was soft, like a cloud. The pillows were stuffed into freshly cleaned cotton cases. It was barely a few minutes before you drifted off…

And then abruptly woke up to something moving against your mouth. It started out soft but quickly turned ashen and tough. Your eyes flew open and you screamed, the sound muffled by the kiss of Imhotep!

You tried to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Your touch meant nothing to him as he continued the unwanted kiss.

The door to your room burst open, finally taking his attention and allowing your scream to be heard at full volume. Imhotep’s face was half rotten away, his lips completely gone, the cheeks held together by thin strips of jerky-like skin. You scrambled out of reach, to try and get as far away as the tiny room would allow. The movement caused you to fall out of the bed and land hard on the wood floor.

Standing up, Imhotep said something in ancient Egyptian, but your jumbled, still half-asleep brain couldn’t translate it.

“Oh, really?” Junmyeon mocked. “Here’s my answer.” He held up the poor cat who had saved you earlier, the animal hissing threateningly at the mummy. Just like last time, Imhotep fled in a tornado of sand out the window, terrified of the innocent creature.

“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he let the cat fall from his hands. The cat landed gracefully on its feet and walked over to the bed with more dignity than you’d ever seen a human radiate.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Baekhyun answered. After a glare from Junmyeon, he cleared his throat. “Oh. You weren’t- that’s fine. Go… check on her.” Junmyeon did just that.

Kneeling in front of you, he pushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen in your face. Warm, soft brown eyes searched for any sign of harm. The tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek, setting the skin on fire. Or perhaps that was just the blood rushing up to your face in slight embarrassment. This man made you… nervous in a way. He could be dastardly at times, but… also very sweet.

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself up to your feet. “I’m fine. A little disgusted, but I’m fine.”

A smirk and knowing gleam flashed on Junmyeon’s face as he rose. “I’m sure mine was better.”

He was referring to the lip-smash he desperately pulled before he was to be dragged to the hangman’s noose. Not exactly the best first impression.

You snorted. “No. I wouldn’t say that.” His jaw went slack. Sehun and Baekhyun snickered behind him. “Did you find the professor?” you asked in order to change the subject.

“Yeah. He stayed out in the sun for a little long by the time we found him.”

“What are you-” Oh. Oh. That was why Imhotep was so far along in his regeneration. He’d found another victim to suck dry.

“And he has the Book of the Dead,” Sehun added. “According to Beni, that’s what he’s going to use to raise Anacsunmum.”

“Anck-Su-Namun,” you corrected.

“Yeah, her.”

You rolled your eyes. Why did you even bother?

You started pacing the room, trying to figure out what would be the best next move. You couldn’t keep playing hide and seek with the cat for all eternity. There needed to be a way to end this. Before he read from the book and raised-

The book…

The book!

You whirled back to the others. “I have an idea!”

“Care to share?”

“The Black book has always been rumored among scholars to be able to bring people back from the dead. Something I had always thought was nonsense,” you added to yourself. “But since that part is true, that means other rumors must be as well. Such as the Gold Book being able to send a soul back to the afterlife.”

“A balance.” Baekhyun looked awfully proud of himself. At least something finally stuck.

“Exactly. Now all we have to do is find out where it's hidden.”

Junmyeon frowned. “But I thought it was supposed to be hidden with Anubis?”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “It comes from a translation of an ancient text. A stone that’s at the museum here, actually. It also says where the Black book was supposed to be hidden. I think they got their translations mixed up. So, where the scholars who originally translated it said that the golden Book of Amun-Ra was in the statue of Anubis, it's actually wherever they said the black Book of the Dead was supposed to be.”

“And where is that?”

You swallowed. “I don’t remember. We’ll have to go to the museum so I can read it again.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Junmyeon checked the barrels of his guns, reloaded the revolvers with bullets from his belt. “Then I guess we’re headed back to the museum. Hopefully we don’t run into Ugly Face before we get to the rock.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said with the utmost confidence.

Sehun, who did not share that sentiment, looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh joy. Another book hunt.”

#exo #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fantasy au #exo fantasy!au #junmyeon x reader #junmyeon x fem!reader #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #exo mummy au #exo egypt au #exo 1920s au #byun baekhyun #oh sehun #exo adventure au #Book of the Dead

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shoutogepi · 5 years

Text

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that��s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears. Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body.

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

thank you so much for reading!! Happy Valentine’s Day sweethearts :)

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𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#whewwwww #somebody call the fire departmentttt lawd #lmao not to toot my own horn but this was hot #i finished this ln when i was lit af and was so pleased to find this morning when editing minimal errors and i managed to stay on track woo #ok ok ill get over myself now #bakugou fic #bnha fic #mha fic #ground zero fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo smut #my fics #my fics katsuki

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

desert secrets

MJ meets a helpful stranger in the desert that turns out to be more than she hoped for.

7k holy shit lol

warnings: some pretty unrealistic fluff that might get your hopes up that you’ll have a meet-cute with Grayson

***

Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Shit on a fucking stick. You actual fucking idiot, MJ.

A stream of thoughts along these general lines becomes her stream of conscience as MJ Macias plops down on a large rock, throwing her head back to the sky to bask in the sun and her own general incompetency. Maybe the heat of the desert mountain sun beating on her face will cause her to shrivel up and disintegrate to become lizard food or something — the thought isn’t altogether unwelcome.

Her trip to the middle of nowhere was meant to clear her mind both through exercise in the form of a nice, long hike, as well as simply by being alone amongst nature, under an endless expanse of clouds and stars. The week had been pure hell for her: she had been let go from her dream job at her marketing firm in the latest round of budget-related layoffs; received a ticket from a dickhead cop for going 34 in a 30; and discovered last night that the hot water heater in her apartment had broken. To top it all off, her ex had been harassing her relentlessly over texts and calls, wanting to meet up and ‘talk about things’ since she had dumped him two months ago.

So as she cried hot tears in a frigid shower that morning, thoroughly wallowing in self-pity, an idea popped into her head that was so spontaneous and ridiculous she didn't even try to talk herself out of it: go on a solo camping trip.

MJ really has no idea why this of all the therapeutic outlets available to her was something her brain decided was the right one, since a camper she is not. Sure, she loves being outside in the sun for a good hike, or a swim in the ocean once in a while — nature isn’t the problem. It’s the whole navigating-desert-terrain-alone-and-sleeping-on-the-ground thing that isn’t usually at the top of her list of fun weekend activities. The tent and sleeping bag that she had been forced to purchase for the ridiculous bachelorette party of one of her very outdoorsy friends had called her name as she paced manically around her apartment that morning, though.

Did she have every intent to return them after their one-time use? Absolutely. Did they both end up getting thrown to the back of her storage closet and thus forgotten about until then? Also, yes.

Both her practically nonexistent camping experience and her general lack of enthusiasm for the activity as a whole should have been her first clues at how moronic she was for thinking this is a trip she should (or could) handle alone. But, now determined to have the ultimate self-care weekend, she had: packed a backpack as an overnight bag; tossed it with her shitty little tent and a cooler full of snacks and water in the back of her car; texted her best friend Lainey to sound the alarm if she wasn’t home in 36 hours; and driven away to the first camping ground Google showed her that was at least 100 miles outside of LA. It seemed adventurous and spontaneous an indie movie-esque at the time.

But now, as she sits on this rock, feet and back aching, utterly fucking lost, MJ is starting to feel more like she’s on a self-inflicted episode of Punk’d. Being very directionally challenged, she had been using the maps feature on her phone to find her way back to her campsite after going on a winding, hilly hike, until her phone had suddenly died. The trails have no legible signs so between her use of the GPS, the borderline stalker-ish calls from her ex, and the heat of the sun, she’s left without her lifeline much sooner than she could have anticipated.

She thinks of her backpack and the battery-powered charger in her tent. In a moment of pure rage with herself for being such a lost, ill-prepared dumbass, she wants nothing more than to run back up the mountain and punt the now useless little piece of metal and plastic into the abyss. Her inner drama queen thinks maybe the best thing that could happen is that it will fall on a mountain lion, which will devour her out of anger before she shrivels up into lizard food, and put her out of her misery early.

MJ rolls her eyes at how ridiculous she’s being, and forces herself to take a deep breath and think. Her inner antics really do bring up an actually pressing issue. There are plenty of animals out here that don’t need any iPhone provocation to attack, and she’s only armed with a half-empty HydroFlask and a sparkly purple tube of pepper spray. Not to mention, judging from the incurring pinkness of the sky, the sun is going to set soon, and with that means it’ll be getting cold as well. She looks down at her thin Lulu Lemon tank top and shorts.

Fuuuck.

Knowing she has to make a decision, MJ doesn’t second guess herself when her feet heave her body off of her rock and set off further down the trail. Her only hopes at this point are to either miraculously stumble upon her camp before dark, or pray that she runs into fellow campers that might have a portable charger and that also aren’t serial killers. The only people she had passed on her hike had been a middle-aged couple and a woman maybe a little older than herself with a dog, but she couldn't have any idea if they were staying on the campgrounds or merely taking a day trip. Like she should have done.

MJ walks down the trail a solid 20 minutes, and wonders where the hell she had actually gone on her hike to be so far out from her own campsite. Inexperience with the outdoors had made her assume all the trails met up in a circle, but clearly that isn’t the case here. She’s already out of the hiking trail and in one of the areas designated for camping, but there are a couple of those around the park and she has no clue which one she had chosen.

Trying and failing to keep the creeping worry out of her spine as a few clouds turn orange and the noises of the nocturnal wildlife start up, she picks up her pace.

She’s about to resign herself to huddling in an unoccupied camping spot for the night when she suddenly sees flumes of smoke about a football field away. The Hallelujah chorus fills her head, and she mumbles out a quick ‘thank you’ to whoever is listening as she practically speed-walks to her impending safety.

The smell of the crackling wood draws her nearer and nearer. When she finally rounds the corner, she’s surprised and disappointed to see that while there is indeed a small fire burning, as well as a deconstructed tent piled on the ground, the occupant of the campsite is nowhere to be found. MJ hesitates and looks around for any sign of them, not foreseeing this issue. Should she wait around like a creep? Keep walking and hope to run into them?

“Can I help you?”

MJ startles out of her skin and lets out an embarrassing little squeak. She whips around and is thoroughly unprepared to see what just might be the hottest guy she’s ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on in real life. Judging from her own height, he’s maybe six foot or a tad over; his thick arms are laden with a bulky backpack and a sleeping bag, and his dark hazel eyes observe her warily behind a flop of dark wavy hair.

“Uh,” she begins stupidly, slightly stunned by both his sudden appearance and his masculine beauty. “Yeah, um, I’m so sorry to intrude on your space but, I, you know, got a little confused on the trails and, uh…”

He raises a naturally arched eyebrow expectantly as she pauses and stumbles over her words. MJ looks at him, then releases a huge breath she hadn't even realized had been held in her chest until this moment, officially giving up on not sounding like a complete and total idiot.

“I’m fucking lost. I have a terrible sense of direction and was using a map online of the trails to find the pin I dropped on my campsite, but my phone died. Is there any chance you have a portable charger I can use for, like, twenty minutes?”

The guy chuckles, and despite her pure mortification at the situation, MJ cracks a smile too, glad to see he isn’t pissed at her for lurking around his campsite like the actual weirdo she is. Unfortunately for her, though, his crooked grin somehow makes him even more attractive, which doesn’t bode well for her already inevitable awkwardness.

“Uh, yeah, I have my Mophie in here somewhere,” he says, indicating the backpack in his arms. He nods his head in the direction of his campsite where there is a large stone clearly put there by park officials as a makeshift bench. “Come on over and I’ll find it.”

“Thank you,” MJ sighs in relief. She follows him through the gap in the log threshold, and when he drops the items he’s carrying on the ground, she gapes; holy shit, the man is built. She could tell he had pythons for arms, but the stuffed backpack and sleeping bag had hidden the way his plain white t-shirt stretches taut over every solid, muscled crevice of his torso.

She shakes her head and hopes he can’t sense her obvious stare that has since traveled from the breadth of his shoulders, down his tapered waist, settled on his ass, and finished on the multitude of tattoos decorating his legs as he walks in front of her. MJ finds every one of these aspects of him immensely appealing; she’s never felt so viscerally attracted to a complete stranger in her entire life.

MJ settles on the rock and, sensing some of the aforementioned awkwardness about to settle in the air, searches her brain for a way to alleviate it. She knows she’ll only be here a short amount of time, but she feels compelled to get to know him even just a little bit. And to not make a complete fool of herself, if possible.

“What’s your name?” she asks. That’s a safe place to start. She hugs her knees to her chest as she watches him arrange the stuff he had just dropped into a neater pile.

“Grayson,” he replies. Grayson crouches down to dig through his backpack and flashes her a friendly, blinding smile over his shoulder. “Yours?”

As if she couldn’t embarrass herself any more, she feels a flush rise to her cheeks. For fucks sake, she isn’t 16 talking to her high school crush — she’s a grown woman who has been with plenty of guys and knows how to have a simple conversation with one, no matter how hot they are.

“MJ,” she finally manages to get out.

“MJ,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue, nodding approvingly. “That’s cool. I don't think I’ve ever met a girl with that kind of name. What does it stand for?”

He stands and turns to face her. He extends the little black charger to her and MJ looks up at him through her lashes as he towers over her, biting her lip. Flirting isn’t her strong suit whatsoever, but she can’t help trying; it’s not like she’s going to see him again by the time the sun sets.

“It’s a secret,” she answers after a brief moment, taking the Mophie from Grayson and accidentally-on-purpose brushing the tips of her fingers against the back of his. “Thanks.”

Grayson raises his eyebrows, but a humored grin graces his full lips. “Okay,” he says, surprising her by taking a seat next to her as she plugs in her phone. “But who better to spill your secrets to than a total stranger, you know?”

MJ can’t help the giggle that escapes her throat, humored more by the fact that he seems to be having the same idea of fuck it, we won’t ever see each other again, as her, than his actual question. His nearness should make her uncomfortable, but it just…doesn’t; he’s close enough for her to smell his scent emanating from his warm body. Clean, like laundry and soap, but also hints of an earthy, masculine cologne and an admittedly enticing musk from being in the sun. She wants to lean in and inhale him.

God, she hopes she isn’t coming off as insane as she feels inside. What is wrong with her? He’s just a guy. A guy whose close proximity as a stranger should be making her feel intimidated rather than buzzing with electricity.

“You’re very right,” she says, leaning back on her hands to appear more relaxed. “If I die out here in the wilderness, killed by my own stupidity, I wouldn't want the last person to see me alive not know my real name.”

Grayson throws his head back and laughs, and it draws one from herself as well. She likes his laugh because despite the deep timbre of his voice, the sound is carefree and boyish.

“It’s Makenna Jean,” she finally admits once they both quiet down. “I’m named after my grandmothers, but my mom didn't like your typical shortenings people might automatically give to Makenna — you know, Mack, Ken, Kenna, all those. So she just started calling me MJ to avoid it all, and…that’s me, MJ.”

He nods in understanding. “Gotcha.”

They continue effortless conversation for a while, words and laughter flowing freely from their lips with an ease that MJ hasn’t experienced in years. In the first lull, though, MJ fills it with a sigh and extends her long legs to stretch them as they tire from being folded so closely to her body, flexing and pointing her toes. She knows her shorts are a little too short, her tank top a little low cut, even with a sports bra on. It’s another one of those accidentally-on-purpose moves that starts as inadvertent in the way it exposes and elongates her body, but ends in her relishing the way his eyes quickly dart across her form. She’s reticent to admit that she isn’t mad about it. Not even a little.

She ducks her head and bites her lip to hide a triumphant smirk as Grayson clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “So, are you out here by yourself?”

For the first time since she met him, a little swoop of nerves unrelated to her attraction to him passes through the pit of her stomach. She feels like she’s always had a spot-on instinct for determining someone’s ‘vibes’, and Grayson has only given her good ones since the minute she saw him. Maybe she’s fallen victim to the Ted Bundy effect, though…

He seems to pick up on her hesitation, and Grayson slaps his palm to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, sorry, that was so creepy. I didn't mean it like that, I was just, uh, making conversation.” He opens his eyes and rubs his forehead and, to her shock, is he blushing now? “I promise I’m not a murderer.”

She might have still been weirded out by a guy even putting the word out there in this situation, but her gut is telling her that Grayson is harmless, and she prides herself on being a pretty good judge of character.

“It’s okay,” she says, giving him a serious look. “I promise I’m not either. But you should know that I’m packing heat with a fully loaded can of mace and my best white belt skills from the karate classes my mom made me take in 4th grade.”

Grayson gives her a disbelieving look. “Fourth grade karate, huh?”

“Yep. For real, I’ll karate chop your arm off if you try anything sketch.”

“Try,” he challenges with a beautiful, dangerous smile, leaning in ever so slightly and looking her dead in the eye. It takes her breath away a little bit. “I dare you.”

MJ scoffs, still keeping up this facade that she isn’t fighting every primal urge to mount him, especially with the unmistakeable tinge of flirtation in his last words.

“Fine,” she accepts. Grayson grins wider and leans back, offering her his right arm. “Get ready.”

“Oh, I am.”

She lines her hand up with the dip in his muscles between his shoulder and the top of his bicep, rears it back, and —

“Ow!”

The side of her hand simply bounces off of the solid mass of his bulging arm. Grayson does that head-back belly laugh again and she pretends to pout as she rubs her sore hand. “That hurt way more than it should have!” she exclaims. “What are you, Superman?”

Grayson, still laughing, grabs her hand in his and strokes it rather tenderly considering the sheer size of his palm compared to hers. And it’s so cliche, but MJ swears she feels tingles where their skin connects.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, biting his lip in an attempt to contain himself. “It’s just, in the least misogynistic way possible, that was high-key cute.”

“Hmph.” MJ scrunches her nose at him as her heart drops to her stomach in the best, scariest way.

Uh oh. He's a stranger, MJ; you’ve known him for half an hour, MJ; you’re in the middle of nowhere, MJ — you can’t catch feelings for a stranger you’ve know for half an hour in the middle of nowhere, MJ…

She clears her throat and gives his hand a slight squeeze before extracting it from his grip, hoping that conveys that she doesn’t disapprove of his touch. But the sun is well on it’s way to setting, and she does need to check her phone battery. It’s at 28%, not as much as she hoped for but probably enough to do the trick.

Shit. MJ really, really doesn’t want to leave him, but she can’t exactly invite herself to stay longer. She had already kept him from building his tent, and his fire is starting to die as well. She turns back to face him only to find his eyes trained on her, brow slightly scrunched. Her belly swoops again.

“I should, ah, probably get going,” MJ admits quietly, fidgeting with her fingers. A shiver runs down her spine and goosebumps raise themselves up the skin of her arms, too, as the setting sun steadily lowers the temperature around them. She crosses her arms across her chest, partly for warmth and partly to hide her stiffened nipples that peak through her thin sports bra and tank. “Or I really will kill myself out here in the dark by walking off a cliff or something.”

Grayson smiles woefully and lets out a little huff, ducking his gaze down for a moment and picking at a thread on his shorts. “Yeah, I understand.”

Is it her imagination or does he sound…disappointed?

When he looks back up at her, the sudden intensity of his gaze makes her swallow thickly. She wants so badly to ask for his number, his Instagram, his last name, but it all seems too weird given the circumstances and the amount of time (or lack thereof) they’ve spent together. Besides, she thinks, she’s still dealing with a psycho ex amongst the rest of her life falling apart, and doesn’t need any more boy problems in her already crazy-stressful life.

MJ stands and dusts off the back of her shorts. “Thank you, Grayson, seriously. You really did save my ass,” she says with a sad smile.

“Of course,” he replies, standing with her.

She unplugs her phone and pulls up both maps before setting off down the trail with one last wave at the gorgeous, sweet man she’s so reluctantly leaving behind.

“MJ, wait!”

She stops in her tracks, black Nikes skidding in the loose, sandy dirt. Turning around in time to see Grayson dig his hands in the backpack to fish out a sweatshirt and flashlight, her heart lifts when he starts jogging toward her. Despite her elation, however, she looks up at him confusedly.

“I’ve actually been to this place a few times, so I’m pretty familiar with the trails and campgrounds. I would feel a lot better if I walked you to your tent. Not that you need a man to help you anywhere or…whatever, but yeah, only if you want —”

“Grayson,” she interrupts, touching a slim hand to his forearm. She smiles, endeared at how flustered he’s getting. He runs a hand through his hair again. Is this him wanting to spend more time with her, or him simply being a gentleman? “I really do appreciate it, but I’ve already kept you from setting up your own camp. I couldn't ask you to walk me all the way to BFE and risk you coming back alone in the dark.”

Grayson shakes his head. “I swear, it’s fine. I’ve got a flashlight.” He clicks it on and shines it under his chin, illuminating his head in typical campfire story-time style, and makes a face at her. MJ giggles. “And you can’t be too far from here; there are only two main campgrounds and they’re less than a mile apart from each other, so I should make it back before dark one way or the other.”

A shiver from the cold overtakes her body suddenly. “Oh, here,” he adds, extending the purple hoodie to her. She starts to protest, but he shakes his head and holds it at her more insistently. “I know you’re cold.”

MJ flushes, but takes the soft garment from him gratefully. “I never said I was cold,” she remarks as she shoves her arms in the sleeves and slips it over her head. It practically swallows her, but it smells just like the laundry/cologne scent she had picked up earlier, only more concentrated and delicious.

Grayson eyes her up and down slowly, grinning. “I’m observant,” he says teasingly.

MJ raises her brows at him amusedly. Again, she should be creeped out, but there’s something about him that sends all potential red flags out the window.

“And I might not be done sharing secrets with you,” he adds quietly, smiling the softest, sexiest smile she’s ever seen and utilizing the ultimate puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

Well, twist my arm, MJ thinks sarcastically. “Okay,” she says without hesitation now, her insides jittering with a strange mixture of happiness and nerves. He beams at her and jerks his head in indication for them to continue down the trail.

“So, you never said what you’re doing out here by yourself,” Grayson prompts, nudging her with his elbow.

MJ shakes her head and smiles up at him. “Nuh-uh. Not only is that a sob story no one wants to hear, it’s definitely your turn to share. So I could ask you what you’re doing out here by yourself?”

Grayson shrugs as if to say ‘fair enough.’ “I’m not, actually. I’m with my brother and his girlfriend because she wanted to camp, but my brother doesn’t know shit about it. I only came under the agreement that there was going to be no funny business while I was around, only to come back from getting firewood to find them going at it, so I chose to remove myself from the situation. They’re still at our original campsite further down the trail. I needed to make sure I was far enough away to not hear anything.”

MJ sucks in a sympathetic breath through her teeth. “Ooh, yeah, there’s nothing worse than being the third wheel, especially when you have nowhere to escape.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, turning to her with his hands raised. “Thank you! Ethan told me I was being dramatic, but it definitely sucks. He’s been with her long enough now, I think he’s forgotten what it’s like to be the lonesome outsider.”

This is the perfect segue for the question, but it gets stuck in her throat. Come on, MJ, grown woman, remember? She’s sure she already knows the answer based on what he had just said, but it never hurts to check.

“So…you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” She glances up at him to find him staring straight ahead with that lopsided, boyish grin. He looks back down at her and reciprocates the question. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.” MJ is mortified to hear it come out as a whisper. She clears her throat and diverts her gaze to the sunset. She had literally, quite literally, just met this man — he should not have this kind of effect on her.

Just then, her phone buzzes, and she’s infuriated to see the deleted number of her ex pop up on the screen. She groans in frustration. “But it’s not for my idiot ex’s lack of trying to get back together,” she complains, wiggling the phone and sending it straight to voicemail.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson says, shaking his head understandingly. “I’ve definitely been there. How long have you been broken up?”

MJ swipes the voicemail notification away and rolls her eyes. “Over two months. We weren't super serious and it wasn't a crazy bad breakup or anything, we were just in different places, and I’m not one to be in a relationship just for the sake of it. Especially if I’m not feeling any aspect of it. I didn't hear a word from him the first month or so, but he’s acting like we were soulmates who had some tragic ending, calling and texting me nonstop the last couple of weeks.”

Grayson shrugs. “Sounds like he’s just realizing what he missed out on,” he says, grinning. MJ’s breath catches in her throat and she rolls her eyes again embarrassedly with a smile, flushing pink yet again. “Why don’t you block him?”

She sighs. “I probably will. I don't like to burn bridges like that unless someone really does me wrong, but it’s getting ridiculous at this point.”

Grayson nods. “I’m not just saying this, but I feel the exact same way. And about what you said with being in a relationship just to be in one. Like…” he ruffles the back of his hair, something she now detects as a tell for when he's uncomfortable. “Ok, like, this sounds so ugly and conceited, but if I really wanted to be with someone, I could. Ethan and I do social media for a living and we have a decent following, so it’s not a lack of girls, but that’s not me. Maybe when I was a little younger, but…yeah, not now.”

Wow. What does that mean, a decent following? Her job requires her to know the ins and outs of the social media side of marketing, but she isn’t super invested in it for herself entertainment-wise. Mainly, she’s active on Snapchat with her friends and just occasionally uses Insta, so with the knowledge of the spectrum of social media followings, that could really be any number in her book. “So you’re, like, an Instagram model or something?”

He chuckles. “No, no. We make YouTube videos mostly. We’re identical twins so a lot of them are stupid things based on that — challenges and skits and stuff. It’s pretty chill. We’re starting to dabble in documentary-style projects, too.”

MJ gawks at him playfully, though she is actually surprised by his admission. “There are two of you?!” she gasps.

Grayson gapes back at her jokingly. “Technically, yes. He’s my absolute best friend in the entire world and, like I said, we’re identical, but half the time we really couldn’t be more opposite if we tried. I’ll show you our channel later, if you want, and you’ll see.”

“Hmm,” MJ hums, catching her lip with her teeth briefly. “Well I’m sure Ethan is great, but I’m glad I met you, then.”

He bumps her with his hip. “Are you saying you like me?”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly at the teasing lilt to his voice and hopes that the light is low enough that he can’t see the seemingly permanent tint to her cheeks. “Since we’re sharing secrets…maybe. Yes.”

“I like you, too,” he replies, just as quietly. She picks up a barely-detectable lisp on the ’t’ and the East Coast lilt on the ‘oo.’ It’s adorable.

Her heart flutters.

They walk steadily a few more feet in silence, when suddenly she feels his hand brush hers gently. She assumes it was accidental until it happens again, only this time there’s more assertiveness in the movement, clearly indicating what he’s trying to do. Her heart jumps in her throat as she gladly lets his palm dwarf her own as he takes her hand in his. They happen to both glance at each other, only to duck their heads simultaneously, each attempting to hide giddy smiles.

“Ah, so, secrets,” MJ says to break the silence that’s thick with the best kind of tension. “How old are you?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Old enough…almost,” he answers cryptically, side-eyeing her.

His reply actually makes MJ stop in her tracks, and she’s jerked a bit by their joined hands as he continues moving. “What?” she asks incredulously.

Grayson laughs heartily and squeezes her palm, melting her insides a bit. He’s clearly pleased with himself at catching her so off-guard. “I’m kidding. I mean, I am legal, but people tend to think I’m older than I am.” He observes her standing there, waiting for his answer, and finally relents. “I’m 20.”

MJ shakes her head, stunned. “Shut the fuck up!” she exclaims. “Twenty?! Dude, yeah, no kidding people think you’re older. I definitely did.”

He tugs on her hand to keep her walking, and MJ obeys dutifully, still amazed at yet another shocking disclosure. “Is that an issue?”

She shrugs; she feels like it should be, but he doesn’t look or act 20 at all. But also…an issue for what? They literally just met. And she should only be thinking of being friends; she can be friends with a 20 year-old.

That thought doesn’t stop her from answering, though, because time factor aside, something is happening between them. Something more than friends, if she’s letting herself be honest. “I guess it’s only an issue if it affects maturity, but that doesn't seem to be a problem here that I can tell.”

Grayson squeezes her hand again, and a shot of sparks zings up her arm this time. “Good. Now, are you gonna make me ask, or are you gonna tell me how old you are?”

MJ groans. Twenty. She’s basically a dinosaur compared to that. “God, I don’t even want to say now. I’m 24,” she admits.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grayson asks with a chuckle.

“Because…” How do you explain to a young, hot 20 year-old man that every year that you creep closer to 25 only means one year closer to the downhill to 30? “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel old. And stuck. Especially lately. And you seem like this super young, super successful guy. It’s a little intimidating.”

Grayson is quiet for a moment. “If there’s anything I know, it’s not to judge your path based on other’s. If you’re feeling stuck, something will happen that gets you unstuck. Age has nothing to do with that.”

His answer catches MJ by surprise in its sincerity and maturity and thoughtfulness. Before she can form an answer, they pass what must be his brother’s tent. She has to hush her fit of laughter into her free hand when Grayson makes a disgusted little noise and flips off the dark red canvas that is, indeed, rustling suspiciously.

From there on they share anything and everything about each other, with each other. Against her word from earlier, she tells him about losing her job and her other woes from the week; he briefly opens up that he had lost his dad a little over a year ago and is still coping with it. This shocks her a bit, but his openness leads her to sympathize with him by sharing how her mom had passed away in a car accident when she was 15. By the time they reach the next campground, their fingers are completely intertwined and she’s leaning her head on his shoulder, his smell enveloping her completely from both his shirt sleeve and the collar of the hoodie. MJ has truly never felt more connected to a man on this level, and it’s both exciting and terrifying.

They aren’t even to her tent yet and she already doesn’t want him to go.

“Should be just around this corner,” Grayson says, squinting at her phone before concentrating on the trail again.

Sure enough, the next turn reveals her campsite, complete with the tent she had miraculously managed to construct herself and her cooler propped next to the same rock-bench that they had sat on at Grayson’s camp.

Her free hand clenches around his elbow. “Yep, here it is,” she says.

They stop and stand to face one another. “Thanks again, Grayson,” she tells him sincerely. “I didn't really know what the hell I was doing coming out here. In more ways than one, obviously.” This earns her a smile and — God, as if her heart could feel any more sappy in that moment — he brings their clasped hands to his lips to kiss the back of her palm. “But in the hour that I’ve known you I think you’ve helped me take my mind off things more than anyone else back home could have. So…thank you.”

“Of course, MJ,” he says quietly. “I could say the same. I rarely talk about my dad with anyone besides Ethan, let alone someone I just met.” Her heart warms at his confession, and a heated moment of quiet and intense eye contact passes between them before he breaks it. “Come on, I’ll help you start a fire.”

She nods, and they release their grasps on one another to gather sticks and dry brush at his suggestion.

“You know,” he says as he leans over the fire pit that’s now filled with their findings with her lighter, breaking the short silence, “I was going to spend the night alone since E was clearly pretty busy. I don't think he would miss me if I stayed for a bit. To keep telling secrets. If you want, that is.”

MJ swallows. What the hell is this night? She’s pretty sure sad, lost girls meeting and mutually falling for beautiful, polite, genuinely funny boys in the desert is something that only happens in the likes of cheesy Meg Cabot novels. Yet, here she is, living out her nerdy 16 year-old fantasies in real life somehow.

“Yes. I want you,” she murmurs finally, and though she doesn’t mean for it to come out as a bit of an entendre, she doesn’t regret her wording; even in the low light of the late sunset, she can see his eyes darken. “Won’t he notice eventually, though, if you stay gone for very long? And it’s getting dark…”

“If I can borrow your phone, I can text him,” he explains. “I don't have any service but you do somehow. I guarantee he’ll use the wifi in our car to check his phone before he goes to bed, so he’ll get it eventually.”

She nods and unlocks her phone for him. “How do you have service out here, actually?” he asks as he types out a new message.

“My brother,” she answers, entranced by the way his thick fingers fly across the keyboard of her phone. “Being a firefighter, he gets to be on this plan for first responders where he gets first access to a bigger network in case he’s in the middle of nowhere on a call or in a crowd during an emergency or something. I was able to sign on with his account and get all the benefits of it.”

Grayson looks up at her, surprised, and smirks when he hands her phone back to her. “Wow, a firefighter? So he could probably kick my ass if he wanted, huh?”

MJ laughs. “Normally I would say yes, but somehow I think you've got a solid 20 pounds of muscle on him, even though he's a little taller than you,” she admits.

She finally can’t resist anymore and runs her right hand over a bicep that is truly bulging right beneath the edge of his shirt sleeve, and allows herself to take in unabashedly the way the fabric stretches across his wide shoulders, his defined pecs…fuck, he’s sexy.

He swallows hard and she looks up at him. For the second time that night, the intensity of his gaze stuns her into silence and stillness.

When he ducks his head to meet her lips with his, however, her insides are screaming and the hand not clutching his arm travels to grip the front of his shirt, then the short hairs at the back of his neck.

More cliches, but it’s a perfect first kiss — soft but intense, not too much tongue but just enough as it deepens. MJ sighs into his mouth, deciding she would be perfectly content to do this with him forever despite the fire now lit within her at his touch that has her body begging for more.

It could have been a few seconds or a few hours that they stand there entwined with one another, but eventually they part, eyes closed and breaths panting heavily in the minimal space between them. The longer she isn’t distracted by his lips, the longer she stands there trying not to overthink things.

But the beauty of what this trip has been — what Grayson has been — for her is that it was the opposite of overthinking; it was instinctual, impulsive, and honest. In short, her motto had been ‘fuck it.’

Her green eyes open and lift to his hazel ones. “Grayson,” she whispers, “we’re telling secrets tonight, right?”

“Right,” he replies just as breathlessly.

She swallows past a small lump as an inexplicable rush of emotion hits her.

Fuck it.

MJ’s hands cup his angular jaw and she forces herself to keep eye contact with him. She takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m not into drama and feelings and fairytale shit. But I like you. I really like you, way more than I should considering we’re basically strangers, which fucking scares me. And even though I barely know you, I trust you for some reason. I just…need you to tell me if you feel kind of the same, or if this is starting to feel like too much now that I’m putting my thoughts out there. Because my gut is telling me this is mutual, but we can both walk away now and write it off as a crazy, whirlwind thing in the desert. I go in my tent, you go in yours, and we never see each other again.”

Her words come out in a rush, her last sentence almost painfully so. She also suddenly considers the idea that maybe he’s only using her as a fun story to tell his friends about, the pretty girl he met in the desert, wooed by his charm and good looks into her tent, only to be ghosted by him the next day.

Maybe the uncertainty in her life is leading her to be too impulsive with her wants and desires right now.

Maybe she’s starting to overthink things.

Grayson catches his lower lip with his teeth and mimics the position of her hands with his own. His thumbs brush the ridges of her mandible and his long fingers overlap at the back of her neck, scratching lightly. Despite herself, she could have purred at the sensation, almost does when it’s combined with that of his lips brushing hers tenderly.

“MJ,” he says lowly, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m not a fuckboy, I promise; like I said earlier, if all I wanted was a warm body beside me, I could have that in a second. What’s so hard for me is to find someone who's not after clout or money or anything that comes along with being in the social media space. Almost every girl I’ve talked to in the last couple of years has been attracted to one of those aspects of my life, not me. Once I find that out, no matter what they look like, I’m never interested in being in the same room as them, let alone in a relationship with them. I can tell you don't give a shit about any of that, and I love it. I love how funny, genuine, and kind you are. I love how naturally, absolutely gorgeous you are. That’s what I look for, that’s all I go for, and you’re all of it.”

Holy fuck, how is this guy real? It’s like he could read her mind. Her thumb tugs on his lower lip and he takes that as his cue to kiss her thoroughly again.

“Promise me now, then,” she huffs when they break apart, “no matter what happens tonight, we try to stay friends, at least, tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he agrees with a grin.

MJ bites her lip and smirks up at him. “How about we, uh, keep sharing secrets in my tent?”

Grayson raises his brow, his smile widening. “It is getting a little chilly out here.”

#this might have originally been written w smut #but i wasn't sure if i wanted it to be official #should i post it as like a continuation?#hmm #dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan oc #grayson mj

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keeponshouting · 3 years

Text

After Infection

This is a rewrite and hopefully eventual completion of a massive multiverse mash-up of my OCs with a couple belonging to @whenromancesmoked and a few others from back in the day. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else is going to be interested in reading this (ok, I know a few people who will probably read it) but psh. I’m having fun and want to share.

Note: This is also a George Romero tribute of sorts. Like I started it for giggles because my PB for one of the characters was in the Dawn of the Dead remake and it just snowballed, which I guess means I should throw a WARNING: ZOMBIES sign up here or something. Anyway!

After Infection: Dawn of the Dead

It had seemed like a good idea at the time – or, well, more accurately, it had seemed like the right thing to do. There was a request from fellow hunters in a small town a few hours’ drive south and things had been quiet lately back home so Nate had figured that they could spare the time and energy. Besides, Dennis had been going pretty stir crazy for a while. Even if it was a hunt, it would be a good excuse to get out on the road for a while, a sort of vacation.

It had not turned out even remotely like a vacation.

They had been a little too late to the original party but apparently just in time for things to get much, much worse. Nate had brought a variety of tools just in case but he had primarily been prepared for an infestation of what locals called “hell rats,” a creature that was pretty common in the south and usually pretty easy to handle if you found their nests quickly enough. Sure they were venomous but as long as you were careful… He had not been expecting an infestation of zombies.

“The lot looks pretty clear right now.” Dennis is hunched over at the door, using the peephole to take a quick survey of the goings on outside their hotel room while Nate brews a second pot of coffee to get him through whatever the morning brings. After all, as long as decent coffee is available, he might as well take advantage of it. Lord knows he might have to go without for a while and God help his poor boyfriend’s patience if that happens.

When Dennis stands up straight again, his head is just about even with the top of the doorframe and he yawns as he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. “So, come up with any plans yet or are we still waiting for the caffeine to kick in?”

Nate snorts into his cup and foregoes actually taking a drink for the moment in order to respond. “You ask that like I have any idea what sort of plan to use here. I’ve met exactly zero hunters who’ve actually had to handle zombies in the past decade at least. I honestly don’t think they’ve ever been a problem this far north before.”

“Well, there sure are a lot around here for something that’s never been a problem.”

“Some forms of infection can spread at an exponential rate in populated areas.” He drains a good half of the coffee in hand. “Our best bet is probably just to find out if there are any other non-infected people anywhere around here.”

Dennis flops across the bed, face down, with a muffled grunt.

Nate just silently continues drinking as the percolator finally finishes beside him and he very seriously considers making a third pot, just in case.

---

Zombies – shambling, groaning, flesh-eating, nearly Hollywood perfect zombies. For fuck’s sake. This should have been such an easy fucking job and now there are zombies.

Viktor strings together another line of curses, voice little more than a low growl, as he chambers another cartridge. Beside him, a terrified little girl whimpers. He simply scowls, sets Glock number one aside, lights a cigarette, and pulls out number two. “Zatraceně zasraný vědci.” Leaning over toward the window, he catches sight of a proper target and empties the last bullet into the back of its skull. What a fucking cliché.

This was supposed to be simple. They had agreed on that fact the moment that the specifications of the job had crossed the table. It should have been routine, easy money. Three towns, three targets, each plan the same; get rid of the scientist, call their employer, and let the clean-up crew come in and deal with the rest. The first two hits had gone off without a hitch. So, of course, it just figures that last one would have to be so much more complicated than it should have been.

“I—I—I w-want m-m-my d-da—daddy.”

Viktor’s jaw clenches as he exhales – slow and even, two thin streams of smoke – as he reloads the gun in hand and wills himself to remain calm. His patience is wearing thin at this point, though. He had not planned for going into this as usual and coming out as a babysitter. The target’s five-year-old daughter was not supposed to be in the house at the time of the hit. She only stayed with him on the weekends. What an absolutely brilliant turn of events that this was apparently the first Monday that she had ever spent with her father.

Dropping his half-smoked cigarette on the floor, he shoves himself up to his feet. He had lost contact with Miguel some time earlier, likely as a result of the scientist’s neighbor backing into an electric pole at full speed after one of the zombies had rushed her car. The impact had cut power to the entire neighborhood and he can only assume that it must be the cause of the interference. With long-range communication down, that leaves only one alternative: he needs to get within the functional range of their radios. Unfortunately, the hit had been planned for the late evening and he had only been able to make it as far as a vacant apartment building a couple blocks away before night had started to set. From here, short-wave does him about as much good as a water pistol.

“Come on.” Viktor has already reached the door and taken quick stock of the corridor beyond by the time he bothers to look back. Unsurprisingly, his unwanted charge remains unmoved, still curled up as small as she can possibly make herself, which is pretty damned small.

“A-are you g-g-gonna take me b-back to da-daddy?”

God give him strength but that stuttering is getting real old real quick. “Ne.” He swings the door open as quietly as possible and waits for a moment, listening for any movement outside, before carefully stepping out and making his way to the stairwell. With the knowledge that their escape route is currently free of hostiles, he takes a deep, centering breath and heads back to where he began.

“Look, holčička.” He crouches down in front of the child and tries to sound as reasonable as possible. Given his current level of frustration, he thinks that he is doing a fairly decent job. Miguel, however, would likely disagree. “Either you just come with me and go wherever I go, quietly and without complaint, or I leave you here. Your choice.” Yeah, Miguel would definitely disagree.

From the way that the little girl’s eyes go so much wider than he would have ever imagined possible, he feels safe in assuming that she disagrees as well and, five minutes later, they are creeping down an alleyway with more stealth than Viktor ever would have expected of a kindergartener.

---

What was taking so long?

That is the question that had led Alex out of the band’s bus and that was the question that he now wants to keep from crossing anyone else’s minds. This is all way too fucked up, like the should not be real kind of fucked up. None of this should be happening.

On the ground, backed up against the flat tire of the car that their driver had originally gone to help, Alex kicks hard into the jaw of what may have once been a perfectly lovely young woman and sends her sprawling backward where she lands on top of the monster still gnawing on the corpse of a man who should have still been living and breathing and driving their goddamn bus. Alex’s hand gropes around behind him for anything even remotely useful as a weapon and lands on the tire-iron just in time to smash it into the face of the dead woman once more lunging in his direction. Another strike as she tries to get up and he cringes and almost loses his lunch at the feeling of her skull cracking open and her brain splattering across the pavement. Hell, he really might have lost it if not for the howl coming at him far too fast. This time, he opts not to look as the hears the wet crunch and just leaps to his feet and starts running back toward relative safety.

“Alex?”

Oh fuck. “Stay on the bus, Val!”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Niccols! What the fuck is going—”

Alex fails to hear the rest as he spins around to slam the tire-iron as hard as he can into something else behind him. This time it gets yanked right out of his hand as the body drops and he scrambles back onto the bus, practically picking up a protesting Val in order to get her out of the way of the door that he immediately slams closed. He lets her go as he collapses into the driver’s seat, wide-eyed and hands shaking, and it takes him a moment to register the sound of his dog whimpering by his knee, let alone that of his own name. When the world comes back into focus, though, Val is staring at him in horror. It takes him another moment to realize why.

“Alex? What the fuck happened?” Whether she sounds more panicked or angry, Alex is far too dazed to tell. Her hands reach for his face, his shoulders, moving down to check every inch. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand to wipe at his face. No. No he is not okay. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Val does not look like she believes him at all. “Is that—Fuck. That—That’s blood! Why the fuck are you covered in blood?”

Breathe, Alex. Always a good plan to breathe. “Shh. Don’t…” Never mind. Telling her to keep it quiet is pointless. Everybody else will have heard it already.

He shoves himself back to his feet, legs weak and wobbly, and stumbles as he makes his way through the curtain that separates the cabin from the rest of the bus. It is instantly evident that the rest of the band did, in fact, hear all of that. All three of them are already staring at him before he even properly steps into view. He is pretty sure that Sasha is the one choke out an “on shit” and it is definitely Macy whose response comes out as barely a squeak.

“Blood?” On his feet now, Macy rushes in to cling to Alex’s shirt, bodily fluids not withstanding. “None of it’s yours, right? You’re not hurt? You’re okay?”

Again, Alex reminds himself to breathe, turning just enough so that he can see where Val still stands in the doorway, Parker lying on the floor a foot or so behind her, his ears back and expression scared. For her part, Val is gripping the doorway so tightly that Alex can only assume that she is trying very hard not move and crowd him any further.

“None of it’s mine.” He looks at the faces around him, all of them staring, all confused and various degrees of frightened. It brings everything right back into focus. “We need to—” It takes a deep breath in and a slow breath out to get his thoughts back in line. “Everybody grab a bag, pack food, necessities, just—just whatever.” Stepping a little closer to Val, just near enough to pull one of her hands down from the wall and give it a quick squeeze. “We gotta get outta here.”

---

Nate leans out of the passenger side window just far enough to level his sights on one of the creatures that already looks less human and fires. One shot, between the eyes, and it hits the ground and disappears beneath the feet of its companions. He hears a quiet gagging sound come from the driver’s seat and finds himself feeling a bit queasy in turn. They are both going to need to make some real changes to their perspective re: what constitutes a monster and they need to make those changes really quickly because as of right now, it is going to be really difficult to get out of this mess without completely rewiring their conscience.

“Um, Nate?”

With barely a glance spared toward Dennis, Nate focuses himself on reloading. “Yeah?”

“How many, uh—how many of them are back there?”

The question gives him pause but Nate squints to get a count anyway. “About a dozen in view. Why?”

“Because we need to, uh—we have to stop for a minute.”

Nate drops back into his seat so quickly that he nearly smacks his head off the door. “We what?”

Not even bothering to look at him, Dennis simply peels one shaking hand off of the steering wheel to point at something ahead. “We have to stop.”

Nate has to squint but he starts moving the moment that he sees exactly what Dennis is looking at. “I’ve got the door.”

It was rather obvious even from a single glance at a decent distance that the man up ahead, standing stock still in his torn slacks and a blood, rolled shirt-sleeves, was staring straight past the car speeding toward him and cursing the sight of the ever-growing number of zombies trailing behind. Dennis hits the gas and is slamming the breaks in what feels like no time.

Nate shoves the back door open and feels like there is really no room for argument when he shouts to the man to get in but he has been wrong before and apparently he is right now. Instead of heading straight for them, the guy curses in a language that they are now close enough for Nate to tell is definitely not English and turns away.

“Hey!” Dennis spins in his seat to look behind them, which Nate is sure that he immediately regrets. “What the hell? What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s just—” And that is when the stranger pulls his gun, takes out three approaching zombies in relatively rapid succession, and finally turns to sprint back toward the car. “—getting a little girl.”

The child is practically flung into the back seat and their new passenger wastes no time slamming the door behind himself and snapping, “Go. Now.”

Dennis really does not need to be told and floors it the second he knows the door is closed.

“Take a left onto Carver,” the man continues, his tone speaking volumes regarding how unwilling he would be to hear any question or protest. “Follow signs for the mall plaza.” He leans out the window to pick off a few more of the monsters before Nate’s slightly incredulous look catches his attention and his scowl is honestly pretty terrifying. “You’ll be out of gas before the edge of town so, under the assumption that you wish to live—”

Nate’s eyes narrow in suspicion but Dennis has absolutely no qualms against following the orders of anyone with a plan right now and practically takes the aforementioned turn on two wheels when he nearly misses it.

---

“Are you sure you can hotwire this piece of shit?”

“It’s not a piece of shit, it’s a fucking classic.”

Val rolls her eyes at that as she continues trying to calm the utterly panicked Macy currently clinging to her so tightly that he might as well just climb into her goddamn skin. “Fine. Can you really hotwire this ‘fucking classic’?”

Two seconds later, the engine revs up as Alex sits back in the driver’s seat with a trin and a waggle of his stupid eyebrows. Sasha squeals in relief and flings her arms around him from her place in the back seat, as he laughs. “My mechanical genius is wasted on this red wire green wire bullshit.”

He pops the trunk just as something begins to stir inside of the nearby diner and Val shoves Sasha aside to squeeze Macy in so that she can help Nico load their bags at record speed. By the time she flings herself into the front passenger seat, there are already zombies starting to stumble out of the woodwork. Fuck seatbelts. “Gun it!”

Alex hits the gas and they peel out of the parking lot just as the diner’s doors give way.

He had tried to explain what had happened while they packed. It had felt impossible for Val to actually wrap her mind around it at first but once she had seen the mess outside? She had practically dragged Alex and Macy off in search of the nearest source of potential transportation. They needed to find something quickly and it needed to be something fast and she needed to not think about how painfully familiar the blood and gore looked, though she had only ever seen anything like it in her nightmares. When Alex had needed to stop and vomit into the nearest garbage can, she had a feeling that she understood why and a little pocket of rage flared to life in her chest – not because he had to stop but because he never should have been the one to wind up with someone else’s blood on his hands.

“Where are we going?” Macy is the one to finally ask, almost inaudible from where he has curled up against Sasha now, and Val catches his eye in the rearview mirror before she looks toward Alex.

Alex, however, is entirely too focused on driving to really think but so much and instead catches her eye before clearing his throat. “Nick?”

In the back, Nico turns away from the horrors outside of his window. “What?”

“How do you defend yourself against a zombie invasion?”

“Wha—Zombies aren’t exactly my specialty here.”

“No,” Alex agrees, “but zombies are supposed to be a helluva lot dumber than, say, Reavers, right? You know Reavers.”

“So?”

“So how would you defend yourself against an invasion of retarded Reavers?”

The drummer just stares at him for a moment with an expression that plainly says that he may consider that to be the dumbest question that he has ever heard. Eventually, thought, there is an answer. “I’d find the most well-stocked, easily-fortifiable location I could think of and hope I could wait out the attack or find some other way to get through them.”

There is silence in the car and then Alex shrugs. “All right. So, where’s the most well-stocked and easily-fortifiable location we can think of?

Five minutes later, they find themselves screeching into the parking lot of the local mall. The location almost seems somehow normal, given the situation at hand. In fact, were it not for the shrieking horde behind them or the knowledge that Alex is currently doing seventy into a public lot, it might almost feel a little reminiscent of home. Val almost finds it funny, really. What’s funnier to her than coming to a mall for safety, however, is the fact that they were obviously not the only ones with that idea, as they are definitely not the only ones pulling into the place with a bunch of undead goons straggling along behind them.

---

“Miguel.”

There is a burst of static in his ear as Viktor leans out to empty his 22 into the crowd of creatures still chasing behind the car that had picked him up on the highway. Once within range, he takes out a couple of the ones latching on to the other car that had pulled in to the lot at about the same time, too. When his magazine clicks empty, he makes a snap decision to save his 20 for later and drops back into the seat to reload. The driver glances at him in the rearview, looking a little bit frightened, while the original passenger only eyes him for a moment before leaning out of the other side with a freshly loaded shotgun. His fellow gunner might not be terribly trusting but at least Viktor can respect that. Besides, who needs trust? The guy’s a fairly good shot.

“Zatratím tě, Miguel!” The little girl still curled up beside him whimpers. He can hear it over the gunfire, the static, all of the goddamned zombies. It is grating on his very last nerve. “Odpovídáš mě!”

He could hope for no better response than to lean back out just in time to watch as a line of four hostiles drops one by one.

“En ingles, ’mano.” Another line of undead hit the ground as the line sputters out then clears up again, leaving room for easily the most welcome voice he has ever known. “Now where the Hell have you been?”

Viktor nearly laughs. “We can trade stories later, miláčku. Right now, I need cover fire while I try to get these people into the posraný mall.”

“Going shopping?”

“Sklapni. We try the mall or they come to your shop.”

“How many?”

Viktor glances toward the other vehicle still circling around the parking lot with them. “Eight plus me.”

“Well, if they dropped you—”

“Miguel.”

“Sí, sí, the mall sounds like a plan. There’s a garage off to your right. No good angle for me to shoot the lock off but I can keep the number of uglies down while you get in.”

“Děkuji.”

“That means thank you, sí?”

Viktor rolls his eyes. “Sí.”

The line bursts back into static with a laugh.

---

As it turns out, the garage door does not, in fact, require a shot to the lock. It rolls up just enough for the two cars to through before Dennis’s little hatchback even hits the ramp. On the other side, a young woman motions for them to hurry while two men in security uniforms stand to either side of the entrance to help keep the monsters at bay, though it appears that this Miguel guy really only needs the most basic of assistance. His precision is honestly kind of terrifying and Dennis is just as glad not to see any more examples of it as he swerves off to one side so that the other car has room. Nate and their scarier passenger are both out before he even has the damned thing in park, seeing to it that nothing gets in the way of girl at the door to slam the thing shut.

“We saw you on the security cameras,” of the security guards explains as he climbs up to try and jam the gears.

The other car’s driver takes a moment to collect himself, then grabs a wrench and makes his way over to the ladder. “Here. Let me have a look at that.”

“Figured we couldn’t just leave you out there.” The guard climbs down to let the driver up. “Then Shannon said she thought you were headed this way.”

“Thanks.” Dennis finally climbs out only to stretch over the top of his car.

The woman now known as Shannon simply smiles. “No problem. Mercy for your fellow man or something like that.” She laughs and shrugs, looking slightly flustered, though that is probably to be expected, all things considered. “Anyway, come on. Let’s get you all inside. We’ve got food, clothes, relatively comfortable furniture… We’ll get you poor things all cleaned up and sorted out in no time.”

There is a general rumble of agreement as the little group follows her to the door that leads into the connected store, allowing themselves to be ushered toward where another girl is waiting somewhat impatiently. That is, they all follow along aside from one man, anyway, who simply mutters something into his headset before switching it off and making his way back over to the hatchback. Shannon looks back, confused, as does Nate, though he looks more suspicious about it.

Dennis just sighs. “The little girl.” Then he ducks through the doorway and drags Nate away after the rest.

---

“Come on, holčička.” Viktor crouches down beside the open car door with a sigh as the child remains curled up in the center of the back seat. Children. How did anyone actually deal with children, let alone have them by choice?

The little girl simply whimpers and mumbles, “There are monsters out there.”

Well, at least the stuttering has stopped and he supposes he can concede that she has a fair point. “The monsters are outside, not with us.”

Before he can receive a response or think of anything more convincing to say, there is someone else coming up behind him, bending down to look the child in the eye with a painfully sympathetic and all too sugarcoated smile. He might be able to handle the sight of it at any other time but right now, with everything that he has just been through and the way that she has the gall to place one of her hands on his shoulder as if—God, he would really like to wipe that smile off of her face.

“Hi, there,” she says, voice floating in a way that speaks plainly of a familiarity with appeasing people under the age of seven. “I’m Shannon. What’s your name?”

Caught slightly off-guard, the child squeaks. “Um. I—I’m—” The little girl shoots a quick glance toward Viktor then, almost as if asking permission to speak with this new stranger before she finally answers. “I’m Amanda.”

Shannon’s smile becomes even brighter, even sweeter, if that is even possible, and Viktor has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking out her kneecaps when she leans even further over him, hand squeezing his shoulder. “Amanda? Well, that’s a pretty name! Are you hungry, Amanda?”

The little girl nods.

“Well, we’ve got all sorts of food inside. We’ve got toys, too, and games and books and all sorts of neat stuff.”

“And—and no monsters?”

Shannon laughs. “And no monsters.”

Still curled up in the seat, Amanda chews worriedly at her lip for a moment longer, eyes flashing back and forth between the two adults still there in the door. Shannon keeps smiling, encouraging. Viktor just stays crouched there with a clenched jaw and a headache starting to build behind his eyes. When the girl finally moves, though, it does not go entirely as expected. Rather than reaching for Shannon’s offered hand, she instead launches herself forward to wrap her little arms tight around Viktor’s neck and duck her head in under his chin, completely unaware of the rather undignified look of surprise that he is entirely unable to keep off of his face. Unhelpfully, all Shannon does in response is giggle.

#otto writes #original characters #zombies #violence #lol wut #writing: after infection

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salenakingston · 4 years

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Decided to forgo the prompt thing this time around and write a little something that came to my head on my way home from work. Been writing a lot more backstory related stuff to the main trio, and I don’t intend to stop. It’s so fun to play around with.

Prompt: None

Warnings: Medical Procedures (minor), Blood

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 3,117 words

The halls of this estate seemed to just go on and on. Guess that was to be expected when being invited to a place like this. The Whitegale name was one that stretched far beyond the reaches of Sweden, for a number of reasons. Alexander’s wealth and power was nothing to scoff at, but more than that, it was what he had chosen to do with it. He could very well be running his own country with the number of contacts he had, and the people that flocked to him on the promise of a good paycheck. The Whitegales never seemed to be short of work.

And that’s why he was here.

News articles continued to pile up on top of one another, the gap between his own kills becoming shorter and shorter. It seemed that since discovering his project had been a failure, he was not allowed much room to breathe. The demon had put up with him before then, no doubt already knowing the outcome before even his host had learned the price of dealing with those that were already dead.

Magic was real, but even in this new world, there were laws that had to be obeyed. No one could come back from the dead without being broken. Pleas and cries haunted the mind, be it in the waking world or when asleep.

He couldn’t stay at his office anymore, not without risking getting caught. His brain argued with him that he deserved to be taken in. He had lost count of how many lives he had stolen away, be it from those that deserved death or not. He did not care so long as he could get a laugh out of it. He would take.. And take.. And take until there was nothing left of who he once was. Life was slipping away from his fingers.

Sometimes he even wondered what the point of fighting was anymore.

Malceum had found himself on the steps of the estate, mostly by chance. Forced to flee his home country. It was quite the jump to make, Germany to Sweden. Anywhere else might have been a better idea, a place where he might be able to isolate himself so that he couldn’t thrive off the thrill of others… but there was one thing that drew him in to the promise the Whitegales proposed.

Stability.

A roof over his head.

A job.

He could be left wandering country to country without the promise of being able to see anyone. No one owed him anything, and he couldn’t very well work and move at the same time. He needed a new place to call his own. While the estate itself didn’t belong to him, since Alexander had taken him in, he was granted his own space along with the other medical personnel in the building. He had work, or at the very least, something to keep him occupied. On the plus side, with so many people around, he couldn’t just do as he pleased. Someone would notice if one of the staff went missing, or if he had slipped out of the building.

It was a bit of a win win actually.

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep the hollow’s witty commentary silenced.

Alexander had called upon him specifically for a task. Guess the man himself had been impressed by the surgeon’s work. At least that’s what he assumed before stepping inside the office. It was for a stranger reason that he had been chosen. Alexander’s wife had seen him in a vision. Said woman was quite the enigma. Seeing her was rare outside of briefings and events. He had gazed into her unseeing eyes, and could swear that she was somehow still staring back at him. It was enough to unsettle anyone.

He didn’t believe her vision, at least when it seemed like it was something so minor. It was just another surgical job. What did it matter if he was the one who did it, or someone else. Alexander had explained that he never questioned anything his wife had seen, nor was surprised at Malceum’s skeptic tone.

Well… whatever. He had a job to do.

Returning him back to his path through the halls. He had finally managed to figure out where he was going, though it probably helped that he dropped the files he had been flipping through from his eyesight. Anything already on a person’s medical record could help him to understand his patient’s body. Their strengths and weaknesses, at least on a physical level, and what kind of treatments one had already undergone. Which worked, and which ones did not.

But this file just left him dumbfounded.

It was for someone by the name ‘Salena Kingston.’ The first thing that struck him as odd was the inclusion of a ‘species’ tag on her records. Species? It labeled her a wolf, but this had to be some kind of mistake. True, magic was a possibility, but this just seemed too much of a stretch as to what could be considered real now. Humans seeing the future? Believable at the very least. Humans channeling enough energy to bring the souls of others back from the dead? He had seen it first hand. Humanized animals? Unheard of.

Brushing past this mistake, he got into the meat of her records. It baffled him that the list of problems with her physical attributes grew longer and longer with each person that had seen her, yet they had all cleared her to return to duty. Were all of them so negligent with their jobs, doing this on purpose so they could make another sum of money from their wealthy employer? Or was this Alexander’s own doing? It was clear he had contact with everyone on his medical team. Surely he wouldn’t be worse than the doctors.

Well, he wasn’t going to be like them.

Malceum stopped as he came to the medical wing. He knew the path here, but not to this specific room. It seemed strange to be directed to one room, as many others he had taken care of were spread through to whichever space was available. This was ‘her room.’ Just how often was this person here to have a room all of her own?

The surgeon steeled himself, and then opened the door. Strange that this door requires a pin number to open, sliding rather than opening like any normal door.

A pair of blue eyes peered over at him.

The door shut behind him, effectively locking him in the room with a literal beast. So that species part of her documents hadn’t been a typo after all. There, sitting in the bed, was a wolf with a humanized figure. He couldn’t find one thing to focus on, his eyes moving all around her. Her red face markings, visible scars across the top of her muzzle and neck, the curved notches in her ears, the traces of bags under her eyes, but mostly that piercing gaze that fell on him.

A gaze that seemed to be narrowing the longer he stood still. He even found his hands shaking slightly. No, it wasn’t fear that was causing this. He seemed delighted by this turn of events.

“Hey.”

What? Oh that was her voice.

“Are you going to stand there gawking at me, or are you actually going to do your job?”

Malceum was taken aback. Never in all his career could he recall a patient speaking to him in such a way. Annoyance replaced his surprised expression. Oh, he could tell he wasn’t going to enjoy taking care of this one. He set her file down on the small table next to her bed. As he drew closer, he noticed the tubes sticking out of her nose, a tank on the opposite side from where he was standing. Oxygen? Was she having trouble breathing? There were so many problems on the list, it was likely his brain skipped over it, much like the fact of her ‘species.’

“Hey.”

“Y-Yes, st-top.”

His hands were shaking again. She’ll be fun to play with.

Y-You ca-an’t-t.

Oh I’ll find a way.

He gave an audible sigh, an eyebrow raised on the woman? Wolf? In bed. Right, he must look like a crazy person. She was glaring at him at this point, so he might as well match her attitude, “W-well M-Ms. Kin-ngs-ston, I can h-hones-stly s-say in all m-my l-lif-fe I’ve n-nev-ver se-e-een s-som-meo-one as b-brok-ken as y-you are a-and-d s-stil-ll w-wil-llin-ng to m-mout-th off t-the p-per-rson w-who’s-s b-been a-assig-gned to h-help you.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble Sorrowgrave. You’re hardly the first person to be assigned to me as you put it.”

She knew who he was? He hadn’t even been here that long, and he’d never seen her before. Did Alexander tell her about him before summoning him? He mentally shook off that train of thought, scoffing at her, “S-So I’ve s-see-en, a-and it s-seem-ms n-non-ne of t-them-m h-have b-bee-en t-treat-tin-ng you p-pr-rop-perly.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I k-know-w I c-can.”

“Doubtful.”

Now he was getting more than just annoyed. Were it not for the mask covering his mouth, he was sure his sharpened teeth would be flashing to accompany his growl, “Y-You d-doub-bt my s-sk-kills-s?”

Her tone didn’t change. From the moment she first started talking to him, it seemed she was intent on holding onto her level of sass, but content. Was it acceptance? It was too soon to tell. She didn’t shut up, “Oh no, I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I’m just saying I doubt there’s anything you can do that the other doctors haven’t already tried, or improve upon. My body’s fucked.”

Und-der-rst-tatem-ment-t.

“T-Then-n c-care to ex-xp-plain to m-me w-why y-you’v-ve b-bee-en cl-lear-red e-ev-ver-ry s-sin-ngle t-tim-me y-you’ve b-bee-en h-her-re wh-hen ev-ven you are a-awa-are th-hat s-somet-th-hing is w-wron-ng w-with you?”

“Have you been paying attention? I told you there’s nothing that you can do to improve my condition. You’ll either clear me like the rest of them or I spend the rest of my life sitting in bed. Sounds far too dull.”

“Wh-hy are y-you h-her-re t-then?”

The bitch seemed to roll her eyes at that question, “Did Alexander not even bother to tell his new surgeon why he was being sent here? Just send him off with a file and expect him to wing it?”

Obviously she wasn’t pleased, but was that directed at him, or at her employer? She had to be working for the man if she was in her own private room, but also referred to the Whitegale man by his first name. How was it that she seemed more annoyed than he was having to put up with this? He glared over at the file, as if it had committed a crime by simply being in the room, “H-he s-said his w-wif-fe s-saw me h-her-re in a v-vis-sion.”

That was the thing that seemed to shut her up. Her attitude melted away, head moving up slightly from its slouched over position, “Cassandra saw you? I see.”

So she knew something about the man’s wife too. Just what was so special about this woman and what she could see? Why was it a driving force for so many decisions made around here? It was largely irrelevant for the present moment. He still had a job to do. He found his face easing slightly, “N-Now t-th-hen. W-What-t are y-you in f-for t-tod-day?”

“I need stitches. The staff have been able to do what they could for the wounds, but they won’t heal properly without that work, and Alexander won’t let me do the ones I can reach myself. I’ve been instructed not to move as much until someone got here to take care of the problem.”

She’s capable of doing her own stitch work? Perhaps their employer didn’t want her to do it, feeling more confident with a professional surgeon on staff. Guess his reputation from his home country had something to do with that.

There was a spot for Malceum to prepare for this small task, doing his best to get his hands to stop shaking before he got to work. When he turned back around, he noticed that she had placed her wrists above leather straps on each side of her bed. Restraints, yet she was so casual about their use. She was looking so expectantly at him, “I d-don’t-t s-see a n-nee-ed to hav-ve to u-use t-thos-se.”

“Look Sorrowgrave, I know you’re new here, but trust me on this one. Unless you want to risk my claws finding your skin or impaled on accident, you will strap me down.”

“Y-You c-can’t-t do wor-rse t-than-n wh-hat has al-lre-eady b-bee-en d-done to me.”

“What?”

What?

She didn’t seem to buy that, trying again, “Trust me on this one Sorrowgrave. You’re going to want me restrained. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise if I didn’t think there was any danger to this.” It baffled him in a way that she was willing to be tied down, for his own sake. She was aware of her own power, able to assume she had some from the way she phrased her words, and took her own measures to ensure the staff’s safety. Seeing no need to fight her further, he stepped over to her bed, tightening the straps as tight as he could around each wrist. Her eyes turned forward, waiting now.

He only stepped away to gather his materials before coming to her side, “I’ll n-nee-ed to re-em-move y-your g-gow-wn.”

“Go ahead.”

He had done this so many times before, so there was no need to be so hesitant. The gown was laid across the railing closest to him, his eyes focusing to the new bundle of white and red along her shoulder. So one wound there. He could see the same along her upper chest, another spot along her side, and one last one near her thigh. Whatever mission she must have been on didn’t include an instruction on being careful.

His hands moved around the bandages, removing them. Sure enough, the cuts were deep, jagged in some places. He couldn’t help but notice the ones along her upper chest were different. They were straighter, each one with more than one line next to them. They looked very similar to scars that already littered her upper body. Eyes narrowed, staring on them, and she must have caught onto him again, “As much as I would love for you to keep gawking over my body, do you mind getting on with it? I hate sitting still.”

A low growl passed through his lips, sitting back up so he was at a better angle to do his job. No point in entertaining her rebuke. The sooner he could get these stitches done, the sooner he could leave. A syringe moved towards her wrist, sticking her in a safe place. It shouldn’t take too long for her body to grow numb. While he waited, his eyes moved over the wounds. Whichever medical personnel came to see her before him did a good job cleaning them out. All of them were clear of any signs of infection. Good. He would have hated to do more work than necessary.

He was always careful with his work, testing to make sure the anesthesia was in effect before the needle even touched her skin. Salena barely moved during the entire procedure, making this far easier. Guess he was right that she actually didn’t need to worry about the restraints. He couldn’t help but manage a smug look behind his mask. Good thing she couldn’t see that.

Clean bandages were wrapped back where the dirty ones used to be, leaving the surgeon with nothing else to do aside from clean up. He took care of himself before returning to his patient’s side, freeing her wrists and offering the discarded gown back to her. She snatched it from him, draping it back over her form. Guess his work here was done, so he could leave.

Before he could input the pin to the door panel, he heard her voice again, “Wait.”

Wait? Why? He thought she would be thrilled to have him leave her space. She was rubbing one of her wrists when he turned his eyes back onto her. Her gaze moved to the side, “Thanks. Let me compensate you for your work. I know something you may appreciate more than whatever Alexander will pay you.”

Weird. What could she possibly offer someone like him. Eyes widened when a pocket of magic She stuck her arm inside of it, pulling out a vial. What had he just witnessed? Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but it fascinated him. Just what was this woman capable of?

Eyes trailed down to the vial, the magic having disappeared, and this what was offered out to him. He took it in his hands, fingers rolling it back and forth as it rested along his palm. The vial contained some kind of green liquid. He was about to question her when she noticed his confusion, “It’s a dreamless sleep potion. I can see the dark bags under your eyes. If they’re anything like mine, I can guess partly why you’re not getting sleep at night. Figured it might help.”

“I-It’s a w-what-t?”

It’s a what?!

One was thrilled, and the other panicking. He couldn’t lose the only outlet he still had for the time being to break down his host. Malceum’s hand began to tremble, grip moving around the vial. Audible cracks from the glass rang in the small room. He tried to save this small act of mercy she had offered him, but he was stronger. The vial shattered, potion spilling between his fingers. Tiny tears pricked at his eyes, red mixing with green along his hand.

He turned around, punching in the code to allow himself to leave, racing down the hall once the door opened.

She didn’t miss the orange flickering in his gaze.

He could tell she was a danger. She had something that could help him, and he made them flee. He wanted to go back to her, beg her for another one, but it was useless. He was going to make him pay for this new found hope.

Salena’s eyes didn’t leave the man, even as he sprinted past the window looking into her room. There was something very wrong with him. Cassandra saw him being sent to her. There was some reason they were meant to meet. Her gaze shifted down to the puddle on the floor, green mixing with red. He wanted that.

Something else made him break it.

And she would find out what.

#my writing #tw; medical talk #tw; blood #novembria #malceum #The Good Doctor #alastair #salena #the terrible trio

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clairebeauchampfan · 4 years

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It’s all a conspiracy, I tell ya. TBTB, The powers that be, are actually lizards, aren’t they?

These quotes from a recent over-excited post by three ‘fans’ . I’ve taken off the names to spare them the blushes when Caitriona and Tony’s Wedding Certificate comes out. But hey, that’ll be ‘faked’ too, won’t it? (my emphases)

‘Fan A’

Remember when this came out and Sam was Glamour’s no. 63 in their top 100 sexiest men. Selling the Highland warrior... one who obviously dates but is not in a committed relationship or about to get married, so women feel he’s available. We don’t see this quite so much now I guess given many people are onto the Fantasy man deal. Cait of course gets a mention here so it totally supports the opinion that the ONLY woman that could EVER threaten the sexy Highland warrior image is Caitriona. It was necessary to EXCLUDE her from the equation (imo FvF career carrot) as a sister who had a remarkable ‘wedding’ that the Highland warrior attended as a guest. Cait’s out, Sam’s obsession’s safe. No brainer. What’s interesting is that Sam never used to sell this well but since his meeting at Disney with Parnell and MIK got a gig, he’s now on board publicly running any connection to Cait under a bus. He’s backing the total burial of his own identity as a partner or family man which we’ve never seen before. As I’ve mentioned a number of times whatever Sam had in the pipeline to push him to do this must he big. Not sure how he’ll be with Cait in public...now she’s a sister...but he used to continually single her out as an important person in his life. The thing is...the universe kept them on side and supported their love for the way he did that imo. You start verbalising and the universe starts hearing...just sayin Sam. Of course the fly in the ointment in all this is if Sam has some little people in his life that look like him. Man, they’d certainly have those little rascals hidden away now and God forbid if anyone’s onto that! They’d be attacked and defamed for sure! I mean, we already know SC have their barrels locked and loaded incase shit hits the fan. Sam’s bullying letter and the evidence of killer-stalker grannies intruding on them is already there for any pissed off, played, Sam obsessed women to turn their anger onto Shippers and away from them. It’s there in place all ready to go. Sam and Cait can sit back and watch the onslaught of online bullying in their name from afar. It’s not going to be pretty but we know it’s coming. And let’s face it, they needed an out and we always knew it would be us. They can’t exactly turn around and run TPTB under a bus....they needed an exit strategy ready to go. The one thing they DON’T want is for the Sam obsessed to cotton on to the game before the pigs at the trough have had their fill...that everyone is satisfied and things have been ‘worth their while’. It’s not rocket science. Pandemic or not the sexy Highland warrior needs protecting as does the ‘exit strategy’.... Interestingly articles like this are becoming increasingly harder to find...I can see why....makes the whole game pretty obvious doesn’t it? Can’t have the Sam obsessed reading too many of these now they’ve been played for 6 years. What they are counting on is for those played women to be pretty dumb and latch onto the hooks in the exit strategy provided. I hope for their sake they’re right....they’ll already have enough pain from the years of lost moments and lies to haunt them...that’s if the universe continues to be on their side...and unfortunately the truth always has a way of coming out no matter how hard anyone tries to stop it...I mean...shared trailers and all...right Matt? Right Sam?? I say just come out already and get it over with before this happens!

‘Fan’ B

This post is the brutal truth. But there is one more vector in this rocket ride from the galaxy to the garbage dump....the quality of the Series itself. Like the “6-year lie....the show’s “real creative director” is driving the Series from “excellence” to the garbage dump as well. Start watching the Series from Season 1 and continue through Season 5....it plunges downward from excellence to a Season 4 flop...then gives us a little blip upward in Season 5. This downward trajectory matches identically with the lie about their private lives. As the lie became more ridiculous with time....so did the Series. How do the people in charge of this circus keep their jobs???? Who knows....maybe the virus will be the real killer of this misery. But I especially like this part of the post......” Of course the fly in the ointment in all this is if Sam has some little people in his life that look like him.”

FAN C

Well said, Fan A and Fan B Since its inception, this ‘fake narrative’ has become more and more unbelievable and ridiculous. I thought adding the ‘fauxgagement’ hit the all time low, but then add the ‘fauxmarriage’ to someone who could not swing his ‘bat’ in the direction of a woman if he wanted to. He as well as Caitriona look like they swallowed a glass of sour milk when they are ‘forced’ to stand within 3 feet of each other. Then add in the list of ‘hot sexy girlfriend’s’ that supposedly shared Sam’s bed and you have a runaway locomotive that’s going to soon hit a brick wall. Sam’s calling Caitriona his ‘we are together AND we work together’ significant other to his ‘sister’ has caused this narrative to hit rock bottom. I really don’t think it can go any lower....but then I never thought Sam would call Caitriona, the mother of his children, his ‘sister’. I fully believe that all would have gone on as it’s always done....just beat the dead horse again and the ‘newbie’s’ will never know that it’s all a ‘shit show, UNTIL COVID19 hit the world with the Pandemic. Not only did it implode Hawaiigate, it’s now gotten into the Hollywood Hills with ‘social distancing’ guidelines. And we all know that Sex and Violence are the Hollywood $$$$$$$ makers. Put that into Outlander language, Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe, who play Jamie and Claire Fraser will NOT BE ALLOWED TO TOUCH, KISS, OR HAVE HOT SMOLDERING SEX WITHIN SEASON 6. OMG, and I thought Season 4 was bad...this will be the downfall of the series. Subscriptions with STARZ will cancel like flies on shit. If by chance they do produce a Season 6, the ratings would plummet. Who wants to watch Jamie and Claire have ‘fucking eye sex’, 6 feet from each other. Remember, no touching and you must wear a mask. UNLESS, THE TIME HAS FINALLY COME TO TEAR DOWN THAT WALL OF LIES, SAVE THE SERIES, SAM AND CAITRIONA ARE MARRIED! Because as a married couple, they can touch, kiss and have mind blowing sex within a scene....because “THEY ARE MARRIED”! What’s it going to be Parnell? Who IMO, has his balls wedged between a vice with the prospect of losing Sony/STARZ/LG’s top ‘cash cow’...are you willing to sacrifice the Outlander, Season 6 and possibly more? Or are you a smart businessman (cough, cough) and you and Hirsch will give your ‘ok’ to let the ‘Cait’ out of the bag and announce that Sam and Caitriona are married and have been since late 2015. The balls in your court Parnell....and for once, use your brains instead of your mini balls to make the right decision. I think your job and your career depend on it!

SEE ! Photographic proof!That’s Parnell standing right next to the Queen!

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/apr/07/conspiracy-theory-paranoia-aliens-illuminati-beyonce-vaccines-cliven-bundy-jfk

#samcait samand cait

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saibh29 · 5 years

Text

Lucky Charms and Coffee (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Warning: 1 Night stands, Swearing

AN: A request from a lovely anon. Hoping they don’t mind that I’ve changed it a little. I couldn’t write a ‘reader’ who would let Kelly kiss them knowing he’d brought another woman home...

One with Severide please where he has one of his friends with benefits over but realises it’s you he wants and comes down the stairs and kisses you up against the wall🤤 thanks!! You’re the best I look forward to reading your uploads every night🥺

****

“For gods sake Y/N stop twitching at everything. You look amazing” Gabby pulled your hands away from where you’d been pulling at the band of the bra.

“Maybe this was a bad idea?” you said.

“Look, you know I don’t approve of this whole make Severide realise your gorgeous plan. If the guy doesn’t recognise it for himself that more fool him” she took hold of your hands. “But, I think you also need to do this for yourself. You don’t believe me when I tell you your hot, you don’t believe anyone, ever since that fuck wit broke your heart years ago you’ve tried to hide yourself away”

She may have a point.

Your Ex had been a dick. A dick who you’d loved and he’d stamped all over that love by bringing a barbie back to your apartment and screwing her in your bed.

You’d kicked him out and that was how Severide had moved in.

Ever since then though you’d been wearing clothes that hid you away, terrified of giving anyone that much power over you again.

“You’re sure this dress looks alright?”

“You’re stunning” Gabby insisted, and she was telling the truth as well. The dress wasn’t complicated, just a blood red stretchy mini dress with spaghetti straps and low-cut neckline. The material clung to every curve you had though and with the bra on underneath you had quite a few.

“Let’s do this”

Molly’s was unusually busy for a Thursday evening, normally you’d be sat at the back tables with some sort of fruity mix that Herrmann always put a little umbrella in for you. Tonight though you were doing things a little bit differently.

You’d ordered a fruit mix, unable to tolerate straight alcohol, but you’d told a startled Herrmann to hold the umbrella. It wasn’t exactly helping the image you were portraying to have little toy umbrellas in your drink.

Then you sat at the bar with Gabby sipping the drink and laughing at her trying to explain one of her jobs today until a man you’d noticed staring earlier came over, smiling and introducing himself as Richard.

He was cute and funny; he was completely absorbed with listening to you and it was making you think that maybe Gabby had been right about this dress and about you needing to do this for yourself.

It was that idea that gave you the confidence to put your hand in his and say yes when he asked if you wanted to get out of Molly’s and go somewhere quieter.

That of course was where everything had to go balls up again.

“Y/N!” your shoulder was grabbed preventing you from going any further and you were spun around to face Kelly. His jaw practically hanging open at the sight of you. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Back off Kelly” you warned, pulling free from him and edging towards where Richard was stood eyeing the two of you carefully.

“Y/N?”

“No Kelly. My life, my choices”

Richard stepped forwards a little. “Y/N I don’t want to get in the middle of something”

“You aren’t”

“Good Fuck off”

You and Kelly had spoken at the same time, apparently though he was more inclined to listen to Kelly because he did back off leaving you with Kelly.

“What the hell gives you the right Kelly Severide?!”

Kelly realising that you were attracting quite a crowd of interested stares grabbed your hand and towed you out of Molly’s and into the alley down the side of it.

“Let go of me Severide. Right the fuck now”

“What are you doing Y/N? This isn’t you?” he was staring at the dress and the heels you had on. “Picking up guys in bars, you’re worth more than that”

“Hypocritical much” you snapped.

“Your better than me”

“Oh cut the crap Kelly” you snorted crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re just pissed that I proved your little ‘don’t look like a woman’ theory complete balls”

“What? That’s why you’re doing this?”

“Actually, no” that may have been what prompted you to ring Gabby but in reality, you were doing this for yourself. “I'm showing myself that I could be the girl guys want to fuck”

Kelly was frowning “the guys you get that way. They aren’t the kind you want to have around”

“You mean guys like you?”

“Yeah. I mean guys like me” he grabbed hold of your upper arms again bending down to put his face on a level with your own. “Anyway you were gorgeous the way you were before”

Ok. That rendered you silent for a minute. “But you said I didn’t even register as female”

“I say lots of things. I rarely mean any of them. This I do mean though, you are beautiful and you don’t need to change anything about who you were. Baggy jumpers and cute socks included”

“Fuck Kelly. I hate you sometimes”

He laughed softly “want me to give you one more reason to hate me?”

“What…?”

Before you could finish that thought Kelly had pressed you up against the wall fastening his mouth to your own. It stunned you, Kelly was kissing you. He’d called you gorgeous. Your brain was struggling to catch up. The rest of your body though was more than happy to keep up. Letting Kelly’s hands roam over you as he pulled you into him.

“Let’s go home Y/N”

Your brain was catching up again, unfortunately it was also throwing up some awkward questions. “I'm not being another barbie on your bed post Kelly”

“That’s not what I want from you, not even close” he was still holding you close to him and the heat coming off his body and the shivers from his hands were threatening to derail your determination.

“then prove it”

“What? How?”

You had to get his hands off of you. Instead you linked your fingers with his drawing them away from your body. “I want a proper relationship. One where we go on dates and do things that aren’t just sex”

“We do that already” Kelly pointed out “we went to the zoo last week and to that new steakhouse”

“Fine. I want to do it again”

Kelly sighed “alright”

“Huh?” you hadn’t really expected that he’d agree with you. Certainly not that quickly anyhow “you will?”

“Yeah I will. I have 1 condition though”

“What?”

He leant down to whisper in your ear the rumbled in his voice making your stomach somersault. “You let me tear that dress off of you. Soon”

“It’s Gabby’s dress” was that your voice? It had gone all high and squeaky.

“I’ll buy her a new one. Deal?”

“deal”

The shark smile he gave you made you think that maybe this was a bad idea. Then he was kissing you again and you no longer cared.

*****

@lifesaclimb-buttheviewisgreat @lclb13 @moli1497 @clementines-x @the-chosen-one-time-lord @no-other-names-availible-blog @angelaiswriting @selldraug @angryares @thenovarose @georgiagrl1990 @mindofthescattered @dontstopxx @iamabeautifulperson18 @madelinecraig03 @ka-x-in @mesmericbell @weirdpotato-14 @putinontheritzz @soulslaststand @fuckthatfeeling @ember1201 @morganlb23 @tomhopperarms @fakingintrest @artprincessbree @dreamer-lover-laughter @artprincessbree @rime-warrior @captainvaneswife @kapolisradomthoughts @thingsandstuffienjoy @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @aya-fay @itsbubbaog @hp-hogwartsexpress @emmykinzs @thatbadassunicorn @sassywingednightmare @weirdnewbie @goyawriter @shipperfangirling @nathaliabakes @stillreadingfantasy @waywardblueshun @give-jack-a-lightsaber @shipatheart @itsdesiree86 @coffeebooksandfandom

#chicago fire #one chicago #chicago fire x imagine #chicago fire x fanfic #kelly severide #kelly severide x you #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide x imagine #kelly severide x fanfic #severide #severide x you #severide x reader #severide x imagine #severide x fanfic #imagine #fanfic #reader #you #oc

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overwatch-imagines-hub · 5 years

Text

The Boys With a Medic S/O

Does anyone know why I say “ish” or is it just something I started throwing in and have never explained so people are confused?

This one got a little long with all the characters, so everyone else is under the cut!

Also, so sorry if the quality of the piece gets worse as it goes on, I’m writing the second half of this at two am. <’D

~~~

Akande

Whether or not you’re a medic doesn’t really change your relationship at all

The same soft, casual, romantic ish regardless

Though, being a medic, you’re probably an early riser to get to work

Akande, who’s always an early riser, spends the morning with you eating, getting ready and all that, then walks you to the med bay if he doesn’t have his own business to attend to at the time

Always pops in the med bay to chat for a bit if neither of you are busy

Escorts you to the cafeteria or takes you out to lunch since the two of you have the same break

Packs your lunch on the occasion of you being super busy to make sure you still actually have food and don’t just work through the lunch hour

Makes sure you don’t overwork yourself or get yourself stressed out; being a medic can’t be an easy job

You’re his go-to medic

Baptiste

Working together!!

That type of couple that works together like a well-oiled machine

Either of you need an item? The other’s already handing it to you

You have a question? You don’t even need to finish the phrase before you have your answer

Need someone to help you with something? Jean’s already being called for you

Working in the same space? You work and move together like, well, a well-oiled machine

Ultimate medic power couple

Teasing and chatting and smooching when things aren’t busy

One of you always has a lunch packed for the both of you

Taking care of each other to make sure neither of you gets overworked

Jean jokes and teases a lot about needing a doctor

A love doctor

Jean, stop, you nerd

Genji Shimada

Just because he’s a cyborg doesn’t mean he’s not going to pretend he has injuries just to come see you

“Genji, I’m not even that type of medic; I literally couldn’t help you even if you were injured.”

“... But you can kiss my scraped elbow better.”

“Your elbow is metal; a scrape would not hurt you.”

You say as you grab his arm to kiss his elbow anyway

Unfortunately, with his traveling and your line of work, you don’t get to see other very often

However, you still keep contact with heartwarming letters and the occasional pressed flower

Genji often sends you little knickknacks and other items that he thinks you’d like during his travels

They often hint to where he’s at, as kind of a game between the two of you

More than once, he’s brought a broken soul to you for help and a bit of fixing up

A kind, strong-willed soul yourself, you take these challenges in stride

When he gets home from traveling and you’re still at work, he’ll meet you outside the compound to reunite and perhaps to go on a date before heading home

Not being together as often makes the reuniting and the time you do spend together that much sweeter

Hanzo Shimada

Whether or not you’re a medic means very little in the relationship

The biggest thing is that he’s hella respectful of your workplace

To the point where, if you wanted a kiss, you’d probably have to convince him that “Hanzo, it’s fine, I’m on break, no one c a r e s”

“Hanzo, you are allowed to come into the med bay, it’s a public area”

“Hanzo, you literally came to pick me after work. There’s no one here, you’re allowed to hold my hand.”

At least he’s respectful, though

Trusts you over other medics and straight up requests you

He could be bleeding out and be like you guys can take care of me for now but as soon as they’re available I want my s/o

He’s That Bitch

Once he got injured pretty badly on the field and while he was high on pain meds dude was the most affectionate and touchiest he’s ever been in his lifetime

Despite the situation that got him there, it was the best and funniest event to happen in your workplace and you never let him forget it

Junkrat

Poor you

But also great for him

You get visits or calls from him several times a day

Dude gets into trouble constantly and you bet your ass he tries to take advantage of this and you being a medic to get your attention

Even for the littlest things

“Jamie, that’s a paper cut. You do not need full medical attention.”

Even for things that are not in your profession

“Jamie, I can’t make you a leg; that’s not my profession.“

Of course, if you’re having a rough day or show your irritation towards his antics ever, he apologizes and tones it down

Tells you that he just wants to spend time with you as much as possible

Tries to cheer you up whenever you get overwhelmed or stressed from a busy day

You always take care of each other

He protects you and tries to make your days more lighthearted

You make sure he takes care of himself as much as the trashman is willing to, and bandage and smooch the smallest of scratches

Especially at home; it’s a whole fluffy, mushy thing

Roadie hates it when he’s around

Lucio

Thinks you being a medic is hella cool and respectable

At one point has probably had you show him some of the basics so he has that information in case something happens and you’re not around to help

Always tries to make the home space cozy and pleasant when you get home because he knows working in a med bay, with injured and sick people a lot of the time, can be taxing

The softest and sweetest of boys

But when is he not

When he has to leave for shows or tours, he always tidies up the house and stocks the fridge and whatnot so you don’t have to worry about that stuff while he’s gone, at least for a while

While on the road he always sends you clips from shows and videos of him singing to you, and sometimes just “miss you!” selfies

Speaking of that, he almost always pulls you into dancing around the house when you get home from work

Sings to you a lot too

McCree

Thinks being a medic is a great and hella respective profession

But will also totally take advantage of it to spend time with you

Usually, he doesn’t like to go to the med bay unless he absolutely has to

However, now

Comes in even with minor injuries

Frequent overall health checkups

Calls you or shows up when he’s been drinking a little to much or got into a scuffle with some douche

You can’t exactly complain; he’s taking better care of himself than he ever has in the past

All under the idea of just doing it to see you

Not to mention, being in a small, enclosed area with a pretty shirtless cowman who continuously compliments and flirts with you isn’t often an unwanted event

However, if you’re busy during his drop-by, he often tries to put the facade back up and leave again

The other medics have learned to hold him hostage until you’re free again, unless it’s something serious

Does his best to make sure life outside of work is lighthearted and comfortable as he can, though there’s still the occasional scuff

Tries to keep in tune with your emotions during and after work so he doesn’t overstep and make life worse for you

Reaper

Get that bread

Highly respects your profession

Never bothers you at work, which is probably a little disappointing on occasion during times where you’re free for lunch and your breaks line up

However, you can’t really be mad

You’re often the one going and checking up on him when you have free time

The man does a terrible job of taking care of himself, being self-loathing and also throwing himself into his criminal work almost 24/7

You bring him snacks and water and the like on breaks if you can track him down

Often goes to pick up dinner after work and then comes back to hang out and eat with him at the office while he works late

Rubbing his stiff shoulders and back and arms while he’s hunched over his desk doing paperwork

Or rubbing the pieces that haven’t smoked off his body, that is

He loves and appreciates you so hard, but lowkey feels bad that you feel like you have to take care of him alongside your other business

It takes some convincing, assurance, and maybe even a little scolding to get his brain off such thoughts

Giving him smooches and making sure he takes breaks

You’ve fallen asleep in his office only to wake up in your comfy bed at home more than once

Reinhardt

The perfect balance of respecting work boundaries and being a sweet, sappy man

The two of you share breakfast together before work, if you both have the time

Picks you up for lunch almost every day, and visits you when he’s not busy with his own business

If you’re busy, depending on the task you’re dealing with, he’ll either wait for you to be free or leave a message with another medic and drop by later

Always picks you up after work

If he’s gone on a trip for work, he leaves messages for you to read on your breaks and calls or video chats you during lunch

Always asks about your day and makes sure you’re doing well and taking care of yourself

Roadhog

Is overall indifferent to the situation

He finds it mildly pleasant that, should anything direly serious happen (as rare of an occurrence as that may be), he has someone trusted in the medical field he can do

Worries on occasion when you come home from a particularly taxing and/or gruesome day that looking like a tired wreck

Does his best to comfort and soothe you in his own quiet way

This mainly involves cuddling and massages and ordering good food

Then there’s the days you come home with fire in your eyes, overflowing with pride as you talk about your work

He knows he doesn’t have to be too worried when he sees you like that

Soldier 76

Finds your work very honorable and respects it a lot

Probably told you this when the two of you first met and that’s what caught your attention

Thinks much more highly of you than himself

He probably catches you in the hall during work or pops in when he sees you free through the med bay window, but otherwise doesn’t often bother you during work

Occasionally takes you to lunch or walks with you to the cafeteria if he’s too busy to eat lunch that day

The two of you kind of take turns taking care of each other

Helping each other through everyday stresses and making sure you’re both treating yourselves healthily

He makes sure you’re eating and staying hydrated and you make sure he actually goes home instead of working through the entire night

The occasional smooch or handhold

Zenyatta

Similar with Genji, Zenyatta’s travels and your busy schedule make spending time together difficult on occasion

His permanent home is a sanctuary, so you’re often not alone with him either way

Not that you mind; you love to help take care of people there

Plus there’s various pleasant, relaxing things to do there, such as meditate or tending to the gardens or simply chatting with the visiting people and sharing a bite

Regardless of how frequently the two of you are physically together, you keep in touch

A constant stream of letters and when he has the time and service, Zenyatta often calls to check up on you

Tries to always call in the morning, on your lunch, and at night but different time zones and both of your works being pretty fluid, that’s not always possible

If you want some time truly alone together, your place is the spot to go

Lots of cuddling, smooching, and catching up

He always brings one or two small gifts for you when he gets home from a trip

If he gets home during the day, he’ll either catch you during your lunch or go to your home and tidy up while your away, then surprise you by waiting on your doorstep when you get there at night

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myncisworld-2point0 · 4 years

Link

[NOTE: This article is from 2014.]

According to some people, Mark Harmon is best known to his fans as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs on CBS’s hit drama series NCIS. Those people are wrong, of course, because he’s always going to be Freddy Shoop, a summer school teacher in over his head in 1987’s appropriately-titled Summer School. Harmon turns the ripe, young age of 63 today, and it’s clearer than ever that this man is in possession of a map that leads to the Fountain of Youth, because Harmon ages with grace, am I right, ladies? In fact, while it’s no wonder why this actor was named People’s Sexiest Man Alive in 1986, it is rather shocking that he never received that accolade again, specifically in 1987, when the most important work of his career was released.

The coke-fueled era of the 1980s in Hollywood was filled with more high school movies about slackers and smartasses than anyone actually needed, especially when it came to featuring students who looked like they were older than the teachers. Summer School was always perhaps the most underrated of the decade’s tributes to slackademics (trademark pending) because what it lacked in the typical star power of, say, a John Hughes film, it more than made up for in creating arguably the most creative collection of “teenage” dipshits than any film of the genre. At the same time, it showed that Harmon, who was probably best known at the time for his role as the HIV-positive Dr. Robert Caldwell on St. Elsewhere, had a strong sense of comedy, while also confirming (along with her debut on Cheers that same year) that Kirstie Alley was much, much more than just a really attractive Vulcan.

youtube

Summer School isn’t just some cult classic that people love to mention whenever someone randomly asks, “Hey, whatever happened to Dean Cameron?” It was actually well-received at the box office, earning $36 million in theaters on what I assume was a budget of a few rolls of nickels and someone’s baseball card collection. Critics, however, were a little more mixed on this mindless comedy, as Roger Ebert gave it one-half star out of four, which sounds a lot better than one star out of eight, so you know what? I’ll take it.

Maybe in the movie business we could coin the term vaporfilm, for movies that zip right through our brains without hitting any memory molecules.

“Summer School” is a movie like that, a comedy so listless, leisurely and unspirited that it was an act of the will for me to care about it, even while I was watching it. This movie has no particular reason for being, other than to supply employment for people whose job possibilities will not be enhanced by it. (Via RogerEbert.com)

Here’s a tip for all of you aspiring film critics out there, courtesy of King Ebert – if you’re watching a movie with a title as lazy as Summer School, and the opening of the film features a school’s teachers trying to haul ass after the bell on the last day of the semester so they don’t get suckered into teaching the titular course, get up and walk out. Leave the movie for those of us who love to watch stupid movies and go to the next theater to watch and analyze La Bamba. Perhaps that’s why the fan reviews of Summer School on Netflix seem to be so glowing, as I only found three that were two stars or less. In fact, here’s the worst of them all:

Nothing but trash. Nothing worth seeing. Degenerate teens in bad need of harsh discipline. It’s depressing to think that so many young people actually enjoy this trash. This movie is immediately available from NF while so many more interesting ones languish in the ‘saved’ section, or in ‘short wait’, ‘long wait’, or ‘very long wait’ status. Just one more nail in the coffin of American culture, or lack thereof.

Thank God Armond White weighed in. The majority of people, myself included, fondly remember Summer School for what it is – a fun, stupid movie that was meant to make us laugh, while perhaps also rubbing our noses in the awesomeness of 80s California if we didn’t live there. But I’ll take this analysis one step further by laying out these 10 very important lessons that I took away from Summer School after watching it this morning, in paying tribute to Harmon, a man who was Kevin Costner before Kevin Costner was Kevin Costner.

Always put sunglasses on your dog.

Fact: 100% of movie posters that have dogs wearing sunglasses on them are movies that I’m willing to at least watch. The movie could be called This Dog Dies from Space AIDS, and I’d still be curious to see why that dog is wearing sunglasses.

Always have an escape plan.

When everybody else is hauling ass from the faculty parking lot at the last second, there’s no reason that you shouldn’t already be packed for your trip to Hawaii. I don’t like to point fingers, but Mr. Shoop’s girlfriend is clearly at fault here. All she had to do was pack the car for him, and he could have jumped in and taken off for the airport. Instead, Kim kicked her man while he was down and not only snatched her ticket to Hawaii from the pocket of his rad flowered shirt, but she also told him to drive her to the airport. I don’t mean to offend anyone who is overprotective of fictional characters, but I hope that Kim was eventually fed to the volcano gods.

Also, let’s consider this a lesson within a lesson – would you walk away from your teaching job right now if someone handed you a winning lottery ticket for $50,000? I say no. Just pass all of the morons while you spend the class time reading up on investment opportunities.

Never be afraid to encourage the creativity of your students.

https://youtu.be/-5Pku48YPFo

The true sign of a teacher’s efforts in a classroom is how far the students are willing to go to show others their appreciation of his work. In Shoop’s case, once he resigned because his students were greedy little pricks, those same students objected to a new teacher taking over the class by staging a gruesome and horrifying murder scene, complete with two of the students wielding chainsaws, declaring themselves psychopaths and thus taking credit for the violence. Of course, I can’t stress this enough, no high school students should ever think about trying to recreate this scene today.

On a side note, and I hate to nitpick true artistic masterpieces, if you’re going to have a severed hand pull a dude’s tongue out of his mouth and slap him with it, it’s really important that he not blink. Damn it, people, we need accuracy.

Being a male teacher in California in 1987 was probably terrifying.

https://youtu.be/farC0cWkpvc

Between Summer School and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 was a huge year for Courtney Thorne-Smith. Hell, both movies came out in the same week in July, when she was just 19 years old and poised to become the next big things in terms of girls that all teen boys wanted to marry. Unfortunately, her movie career never really panned out, as the last live action role she had on the big screen was as Natalie in the Carrot Top hot fart Chairman of the Board. Her TV career was obviously a lot better, but that’s neither here nor there. Having her play a lovelorn surf goddess crushing on Shoop probably lured a lot of guys to the teaching profession, only to have them learn the hard way that prison sucks.

Additionally, there was the foreign exchange student Anna-Maria Mazarelli, who would grow up to win our hearts as Alotta Fagina. Was it standard procedure for foreign exchange students to be shoved into remedial English classes upon arrival? Sure.

It’s important to support fine arts programs.

https://youtu.be/u0kF24ceZMI

When I write about how hilarious it was how Hollywood tried to make us buy that some actors were teenagers when they were clearly at least a decade older, Ken Olandt is really Exhibit A. The guy who played Larry, the sleeping student by day and male stripper by night, was actually 29 when he was portraying a 17-year old, which is pretty hard to pass when very few teenage boys A) look like that and B) are hired to shake their dongs in strip clubs. Still, glaring age gaps and statutory and employment laws aside, it was nice to see that Shoop was so cool about Larry’s awesome after-school job. That is until he was busted by his mom and presumably spent the next decade in therapy.

It’s not lying if the company ripped you off in the first place.

The first time that I ever saw Summer School, I was convinced that the part about writing letters to companies to get free stuff would work every time. I spent a lot of time trying to write letters to the companies that made my favorite toys, so I could convince them that the action figures and especially the vehicles that I couldn’t afford had been broken. But then I realized that I might be called on my BS, and guys in suits might show up to my home demanding to see the broken toys, and then I’d be screwed and sent off to prison for lying. Ultimately, owning Krang’s fortress wasn’t worth a life spent in prison making license plates, which is how TV and movies taught me that license plates were made.

Jail in California looks very scary.

I still don’t know what the guy with the mustache is doing with his hand, but it’s really scary and I don’t want to ever have someone do that to me, so I’ve chosen to lead a life on the straight and narrow. Thank you, Summer School, for teaching us that jail is filled with scary perverts who want to do bad things to shirtless men on roller skates.

No matter the risk, steal your boss’s girlfriend.

https://youtu.be/B7ZTNm5o780

Vice Principal Gills was a pretty big bite in the ass, so we had to cheer for Shoop in pursuit of Robin Bishop, because Shoop was the coolest and his girlfriend had only recently taken off for Hawaii without him. Sure, Robin was kind of stuck up because she questioned the legitimacy of taking students to something as awesome as a petting zoo, which produced adorable moments like this:

And she also wore a denim shirt tucked into a different shade of denim skirt, because it was the 80s, but she had a good heart and she just wanted what was best for all students, even if it meant agreeing to a date with Shoop to get there. Also, Gills looked like a total goober-douche, and there’s no reason he should have been with Robin.

Education can be a compromise.

https://youtu.be/LzdoMQL_jR8

Is Alan Eakien one of the most underrated teen nerds of cinema? I say yes. That kid may have been dumber than rocks compared to his genius brothers, but he negotiated circles around Shoop. In exchange for a slightly-above-half-assed effort from less than half of the original class roster*, Shoop’s couch was set on fire, his goldfish murdered and car wrecked, bookending that whole going to jail for the two D-bags thing. Things could have been considerably worse, too, because Robin could have tried to get him banned from teaching for the rest of his life for allowing a female student to live with him.

But ultimately Shoop sacrificed so much for the sake of helping a few of his students learn some lessons about life, since they didn’t all pass their exams. Is he a good teacher for that or was he just an idiot being taken advantage of by other idiots? Especially idiots who looked like this:

Being an idiot isn’t all that bad, so long as you’re not a total idiot.

https://youtu.be/8fvhchY0UmY

Hey, in the end, some of those kids passed their exams, and the most important of them all was Pam, because that meant she could move on and not try to make it so Shoop returned to jail. This guy went from being just a run-of-the-mill bro’s bro gym teacher to making an impact in the lives of some kids who looked like they were grown adults. Sure, he couldn’t even talk a 17-year old out of stripping, and he allowed some of his students to treat the foreign exchange student like a sex model, but Freddy Shoop probably learned more than anyone.

Also, he totally stole the douchebag Vice Principal’s girlfriend, and Wonder Mutt found Bobby again in the end, so this really was a movie with a beautiful and happy ending.

#Summer School (1987)#Freddy Shoop #Robin Bishop #Mark Harmon #Kirstie Alley

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derangedhyena-zoids · 4 years

Text

You know what there doesn't seem to be a preponderance of on Zi?

Kids.

fair warning: this is a goddamn mess of a horseshitpost about history, population and reproduction dynamics, and chucklefucking about character genetics that I have unfortunately have actually spent time thinking about because my brain literally doesn't accept "idle" as a state.

this probably gets a little weird and also contains mention of sensitive topic (tagged) so please be aware of that

Ok so

Compared to say, the society pictured in Fuzors (which doesn't comply with the xCentury-verse sufficiently and thus gets ignored by me), NC0 seems equally prosperous but a lot more resource-strained. Not "at that time" but simply as a way of life.

Nobody thinks of themselves as resource-poor, but nothing is terribly robust except in the largest cities (eg the modern day rebuilds of the old capitals, Guygalos and New (Helic) City.)

This isn't a secret. It's more or less been the case for the entirety of humans' colonization of the planet. That's why locale self-sufficiency is so important and why there's huge stretches of nothing everywhere. You simply cannot live wherever you want. The environment is fucking hostile and You Will Die.

So first off, let's be real: when you first colonize a planet and want to establish yourselves there, there's going to be rules/procedures in place regarding reproduction to make sure nobody ends up genetically representing too much of the population. It'd take a bit to get to the point of non-directed (and/or non test-tube) reproduction even being allowed.

Basically, space humans colonizing alien planets gonna have hella birth control tech available. There are no "oops" offspring. I'm inclined to think it's actually something that's been modified on a very base level (read: likely genetic modification, is heritable) level, that would require outside intervention of some kind (eg chemical) to make reproduction possible.

The point of "safe to naturally mingle" would likely correspond with the eventual, initial tech-dip as the stores of things from initial arrival were finally depleted (because it was probably planned out that way), and tech that was arrived with started to go offline permanently.

They'd have to be settling into what they could do and make with the resources available on Zi, meaning that avoiding uncontrolled population growth was still a huge priority, because the let's-successfully-establish-civilization mindset would still be thoroughly ingrained at that point.

There'd be hundreds of years of "danger zone" population levels where large adverse events could've easily wiped them all out if they weren't mindful. But, they were, and humans colonized Zi successfully (...again), good job, hooray

The overarching society-level birth control was well-codified in the various cultural groups that arose. But these inclinations did change over time as larger and more friction-prone groups formed (read: the Empire, over time, became large and in charge, discontent developed and huge chunks of people kept trying to detach. Eventually the Republic cropped up. You need more people to be a bigger thing.)

Any desire to handle the population with kid-gloves all but went out the window as the first conflicts started and people were killed. These conflicts eventually escalated into the long-standing wars between the Empire and Republic, and restrictions on reproduction basically went away. (+depending on who was in charge things may have even Yikes'd in the other direction)

(just a canon-fyi I'm not following the Battle Story in the slightest, I'm only trying to make the xCentury anime(s) function. Zoids' various canons are like Transformers' canons - A MESS)

Before these wars started happening, not much besides the occasional natural disaster, accident, or simply old age killed anyone. People can live a long time on Zi! Much longer than usual.

Why? Because a lot of human common human pathogens from Earth simply *wouldn't exist* there (space humans are gonna be really careful to not tote that shit around), so there's only really lifestyle-related issues, latent or new-mutation genetic problems, and any micro-organisms on Zi that mutated sufficiently to be able to affect people. (which is not really a stretch if we're going by the thought that Zoidians were long-evolved humans. The Zoidians were there a LOT longer than humans have been)

so. modern day. I have NC0 a few hundred years after CC/GF. As a whole I think the human race on Zi is relatively young, but a lot of the oldest information (like "exactly when we fucking got here") was lost in Imperial/Republican wars.

Those went on for hundreds of years themselves, enough to establish mass Zoid manufacture as The Way Of Things(tm) and otherwise entrench what became the norms for human society there. (I STRONGLY suspect there's still a lot of residual Imperial/Republican tension in places/families and that Backdraft was founded by, for lack of a better word, Imperial sympathizers with a longstanding grudge against a unified GF-run government *coughhh Alteil cough* but... I digress)

Humans are at a perfectly serviceable population. I actually hesitate to put a number on it because I don't know what # value would properly represent "a sustainable amount of people on a barren planet with very limited resources" but it'd be a sizable population (I'd guesstimate tens of millions). I imagine the GF, being the unquestionably-global governing body*, is relatively authoritarian as far as the core population and major cities go. They obviously can't tightly police the whole planet, but they can certainly keep an eye on it.

This doesn't mean it's a dystopia or that the GF is evil or that it's anything bad, really. I sort of picture it being run by Committee, likely made up of various descendants of powerful families ([insert 10 tons of political intrigue here that I'm picturing, it's amazing, ANYWAYS]) Zi's government is definitively a plutocracy.

There were plenty of people on the planet who were ambivalent towards the Empire and the Republic's nonsense and just carried on what social norms and culture that had been established by the early colonists. Many didn't LIKE that all the fighting was happening because innocent, uninvolved people kept getting killed, and that sucked because they just wanted to live quiet lives in secure towns and be left alone.

There was also a desire for more law enforcement in general, since gangs, bandits, and the Zi equivalents of sovereign citizens kept causing problems. So when the Guardian Force was established initially to wrestle peace into place, it was largely welcomed and people were very, very glad to get rid of hundreds of years of war.

This also meant a lot of people had kids because things became markedly more stable. In fact what led up *to* New Century was probably several solid centuries of strong population growth, establishing additional stable strongholds in habitable areas (new cities were established and built up), modernization and other general signs of prosperity.

So, all this blah blah blah leads up to several key realities for New Century:

-There isn't a strangehold on population growth, nor are there formal limits. However, the chemical-whatever that causes the inbuilt birth-control to fuck off is under the purview of - or at least monitored by - the government. So... there's that. It's also overwhelmingly likely that people have figured out other sources for this over time, if for some reason they're distrustful.

-This inbuilt bc is in effect for everyone. Both folks involved have to be on board. I mean, it'd technically be possible to surreptitiously slip some of the chemical-whatever to an unwilling partner? But it's not like that would be difficult to figure out.

-Family units range from what we'd recognize as a 'family' to entire towns sharing children/parenting responsibilities. Monogamy is the norm but polygamy isn't weird. People can be pretty sexually loose and it's not frowned upon at all - because let's be real, NC0-society is at full-on bread-and-circus levels of operation. There seems to be a moderate anti-intellectual bent and Zoid battles are the height of achievement. People are chasing highs as a way of life.

Topically relevant individuals' headcanon:

I think Steve's wife died in childbirth (having Leena.) It neatly explains what happened to her and Layon's unhealthy obsession with Leena.

Feel like Bit and Brad both were raised in the more "communal" type of settings.

Harry's family comes from old Republican money.

Stoller came from a family that's the equivalent of a house in the south that has confederate flags everywhere. Except they're Imperial.

ARE YOU STILL HERE? GOOD LORD WHY. WELL NOW THIS IS A SHITPOST ABOUT ZOIDIAN HYBRIDS AND OTHER ANCESTRY FUCKERY

Remember in some other post I wrote I said that when you start to hybridize Zoidians in, reproduction becomes more difficult? That's IN PART because of the bc thing, and in part because general genetics fuckery. But once you *had* a hybrid you had very robust individuals, who initially lacked a fully functional version of the inbuilt bc. Over time that was mixed back in, but there were at least a couple janky generations.

Literally every hybridized line in existence is either from Hiltz or Ryss. Fiona didn't reproduce (wasn't for lack of trying. Both her and Van being bonded to the same Organoid caused problems in that department.)

Ryss had two kids with Raven. The reality of Raven aging and dying sucked. The reality of her kids, grandkids, etc aging and dying sucked. Though her immediate offspring lived a lot longer than progressive generations did, as the bloodline became more diluted, a slightly-improved human lifespan became the norm. This was incredibly depressing to Ryss and is a large part of why she fucked off to the middle of nowhere to live with things that wouldn't age out and die on her. It's also why she didn't continue to have children.

Hiltz... Hiltz fucked (and well, raped) a lot of people (50% as a power/hate thing and 50% because he's from the Feed-Fuck-Fight club) and some of the people that lived to talk about it had offspring. The same aging issues were in effect for these offspring, but unlike Ryss's family they didn't have the benefit of anyone explaining what the fuck was going on. So they had a strange time.

Remember that these direct hybrids would've been of age squarely in the aforementioned, post-GF "everyone is having kids" time, so a fair number of distinct new lines were created and persisted. There was also a weird range of ages involved, because the direct hybrids lived A WHILE and could have offspring for most of that time.

Now, in the context of "many years later", this means a fair number of people carry these genes in varying dilutions. It's not a large amount in the context of the entire human population. It's a handful of family lines with increasingly baffled histories. But family groups frittered a lot in the aftermath of GF, so a lot of that knowledge was functionally lost.

Basically no one has any idea anymore, what little idea that they had in the first place. The only families with distinct and traceable genealogies are the rich/old-money ones.

So, in the NC0 cast I officially headcanon 5 folks as these dilute-hybrids. You know most of them; Sara, Vega, and Brad, but I'm impolitely adding Stoller and Iyaga (Ehga?) to that mix because reasons.

Brad and Iyaga are from Hiltz's line. Sara and Stoller are from Ryss's. Vega is unique in that he draws from BOTH; Ryss from his mother's side and Hiltz from his father's. Sara had a *really* hard time actually having a kid as a result of that particular genetic fuckery. IMO this explains some of her behavior towards Vega - by the time she had him she was so emotionally estranged by both the loss of Vega's father and the loss of numerous pregnancies (and by that time was more involved with her 'backdraft career'), she struggled with BASIC AFFECTION.

anyways, thanks for coming to the world's most useless ted talk

*ZBGF is like world-police, GF is world-gov, ZBC is a branch of ZBGF that keeps battles in line (and monitors usage of things). The GF is "background", in that it's using the more-friendly-seeming ZBC as its eyes and ears while keeping track of things on a higher level.

p.s. the bc thing is actually adapted from another story of mine's background, so don't worry I didn't spend ALLLLLL this time thinking about that for this only sdhgfjdfdf

#headcanon #tw rape

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trainingfordogs · 5 years

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Brain Training 4 Dogs Online Training Course Review

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Link product:Brain Training 4 Dogs

Is Brain Training 4 Dogs the best Online dog Training course?

Brain Training for dogs by certified trainer, Adrienne Farricelli is a unique science-based dog online dog training course. The training methods, content quality and support offer fantastic value for money.

GET YOUR COPY OF BRAIN TRAINING 4 DOGS HERE

User Experience

GET YOUR COPY OF BRAIN TRAINING 4 DOGS

As soon as you get a dog, your thoughts turn to training them. Of course, it’s only natural to want an obedient dog whom obeys your commands and doesn’t pee all over the place.

Unfortunately, training a dog can be hard work. Especially, if you don’t have much experience with it. People usually turn to the internet for dog training advice and resources like Smiling Staffy. Obviously, I love the amount of information that’s available online (we have an entire site dedicated to helping staffy owners solve problems and look after their dogs).

However, searching online is generally better for times where you have a specific issue or question concerning your dog. When it comes to general training, it’s difficult to find a solid set of organised steps that you can take to turn your dog into a well-mannered intelligent member of the family.

This is where dedicated online training courses come in and my current favourite is Brain Training 4 Dogs by Adrienne Farricelli. This course is designed to take your dog from the very beginning and basics of training all the way to super-advanced techniques like playing the piano (yes! This is really part of the course).

Whether you’re just hearing of Adrienne’s course for the first time or you came here to find out more about it, this article is for you. It will give you an in-depth look at the course from somebody who actually paid for it and owns it. You’ll then be able to decide if it is the right kind of course for you before parting with your hard-earned.

What is Brain Training for Dogs?

Brain training for dogs by Adrienne Farricelli is a unique online dog training course aimed at improving your dog’s intelligence in order to transform them into an obedient and clever dog by engaging their mind.

The main philosophy for the program is the use of force-free training methods, which is something I love and I’m sure you will too. These methods mainly come in the form of games that you play with your dog to reinforce certain training principles and goals.

An example of one of these games is Adrienne’s “Airplane Game”, which is used to control your dog’s attention. Check out the video below to see how this game works:

The brain training for dogs course is filled with games like this and is ordered in terms of difficulty and progression. This makes it easy to follow and gives you a simple path to track your dog’s progress.

About the Instructor

Adrienne Farricelli is a professionally certified dog trainer and behaviour specialist who has been working with dogs since 2006.

From working in an animal hospital to the local shelter, today, Adrienne holds dual qualifications in dog training.

She became certified by the Italian association for Dog Trainers and Canine Consultants after completing an apprenticeship under a master trainer.

I think it’s fair to say that Adrienne knows how to train dogs and her methods of zero-force and positive reinforcement are certainly preferred to out-dated techniques of dominance and punishment.

Following this she gained CPDT-KA certification in the United States. This stands for “certified pet dog trainer – knowledge assessed”, which is a highly-valued qualification that requires some strict terms to be met to achieve it. To maintain her CPDT-KA status, Adrienne also needs to continue her learning by attending various other courses so you can be sure her knowledge is up to date and it shows during her brain training for dogs course.

Her efforts and endeavours have also been voiced in many international newspapers and events like “USA Today”, “Daily Puppy,” and “Nest Pets.”

Also, Adrienne is an amazing writer. Her writings have been published in “Every Dog Magazine” and “The APDT Chronicle of the Dog.”

What's Included in the Brain Training 4 Dogs Program?

youtube

Once you’ve purchased the course, you’ll gain instant access to the Brain Training 4 dogs member’s area, which acts like a dashboard where you can access all of the materials included in your purchase.

When I first opened the member’s area, I was very pleasantly surprised to see the amount of content that was on offer. There are a number of bonuses included on top of the standard brain training course.

Here’s exactly what you get as a course member:

Brain Training 4 Dogs

This one will be no surprise to you; it is the main course and is probably where you’ll start your journey.

Behaviour Training for Dogs Online

As part of your course membership, you also receive exclusive access to a second, bonus course. This was a nice little surprise for me since I didn’t know this was part of the deal.

The behaviour training for dogs course is a 3-module course that focuses on solving 5 very specific and common dog behaviour problems:

Whining

Digging

Barking

Chewing

Jumping

Although the main course will reinforce good behaviours to help these issues, this little course is great for targeting these specific problems directly if your dog displays any of them.

Resources Section

This area includes all of the necessary items you’ll need to complete the courses. Any downloadable resources and product recommendations that are needed for both courses can be found here. It is helpful to have this stuff in one place.

Adrienne’s Archive

Here, you’ll find over 100 dog training articles that have been written by Adrienne. These can serve as extra learning materials for you as you learn how to become a better owner and trainer to your dog.

There’s also another surprise bonus here (although, it won’t be after I ruin it for you, sorry!). You get access to a video archive that includes a couple of extra behaviour videos as well as some cool trick training videos.

Over-the-Shoulder Case Studies

I thought this was a really nice addition to the course and something I haven’t seen online dog trainers do before. Here, Adrienne has included some over-the-shoulder videos of dogs that she has personally trained. You get to see each step as she trains these dogs on their individual behaviour problems.

Private Member’s Forum

The forum is the place to go to ask any questions or queries you might have relating to your dog’s behaviour. Generally, you’ll get answers to your question from the community and even Adrienne herself will contribute. In fact, Adrienne is very active on the forum and does respond to many questions.

I will say some of the videos could do with being updated and re-edited since some are looking a bit old now. However, the information is top-notch, and they all get the job done.

Inside the exclusive Brain Training for dogs private forum

As you can see, you really do get quite a lot included within this course. There is more than enough material to help you transform your dog into an obedient angel as long as you’re consistent with it.

Brain Training 4 Dogs Course Structure

The course recently had a revamp and now features a much easier to follow layout as well as video modules. In the past, some of the lessons were mainly written so the addition of video is extremely welcome.

The course is very straightforward to navigate since it is laid out in a step-by-step order, which means you can pickup where you left off at any time with ease.

In total, there are 5 course modules to follow:

Module 1: Getting Started

Module 2: Obedience Training 101

Module 3: Polishing Up Training

Module 4: Brain Training (the main course)

Module 5: Closing Words

A Closer Look Inside Brain Training 4 Dogs

As I mentioned above, the main part of the course is the brain training in module 4. This is where you’ll discover the majority of the dog training lessons and content.

To make it easy to see your progress, the main course is divided into a school style layout that indicates the difficulty level of each section. At the end of each section, there is a graded challenge where you’ll be able to assess how well your dog performs in the tasks you have been learning together.

Grading Table

There is a grading structure so you can see very clearly when your pup is ready to move on to the next level or if they may need a bit more nurturing and practice.

The best way to take this course is to follow the step by step pattern and complete all of the modules and sections in order. This makes it so simple to follow. After all, the course was designed by a pro so it would be wise to follow along in the designed order.

Inside the Brain training 4 Dogs Course Dashboard

Level I - PreSchool

As the name suggest, this section is all about the basics. You and you dog will learn about brain power and how to quickly respond to your command. We all know the frustration of a pup ignoring us so this level is a valuable one.

The pre-school level target’s your dog’s attention, which is crucial if you are to progress on to the later, more advanced lessons. Here are a few of the lessons and games that are taught at this stage.

“Target Train” the lazy monster to get his eyes on you. Start by teaching your pooch to focus on your hand, stick or a ball. Afterwards, you can extend the target by making him open the door or ringing bells.

The necessary “Eye Contact” with your dog to make the communication strong and improve interaction. This will help him to behave properly all the time and become a good boy/girl.

The simple and interesting “Airplane Game” to make your pooch pay attention to you and look into your eyes

Level II - Elementary

Here's a peak inside the module pages. This is where you'll find your lesson videos.

After cracking the first level, now, it’s important for your dog to learn to fulfil your demands and enhance his/her skills.

The elementary level introduces few games that your dog will love and find very interesting to play all the time. Of course, they’ll be learning as to listen to demands as they play these mini-games.

Teaching a rewarding game like “Treasure Hunt” will rejuvenate your lazy dog and will make his/her routines interesting.

The simple and inexpensive “Muffin Game” will challenge his brain and will also help encourage him to win.

The mood-lifter “Ball Pit Game” that will make him put energy into a task by triggering his mental power.

Level III - High School

Congratulations, at this level, your dog will be all set to learn about endurance and self-control. This will control his excitement and encourage him to be calm in some of the more stimulating day to day situations.

Here are a few examples of some calming behaviour games included in the level of the course.

Control the behaviour of your dog with the “Jazz Up & Settle Down” game that will teach him/her manners and build a relationship. So, no more jumping like crazy when you come through the door.

The interactive “Bottle Game” will let your dog exercise a bit and will keep him busy and entertained for a long period of time.

“Bobbing for treats” will help your dog to behave well as he/she will get the reward for following the commands.

Level IV - College

By this point, your pup will be getting rather advanced and is ready to move on to some more demanding lessons where his/her motor skills will be developed so they can react intelligently to commands.

The college module includes games that will boost the mental capacity of your dog and will let him/her remain calm in exciting situations.

The “Shell Game” will enhance their mind by playing on the dog’s superior sense of smell. This fun little game is excellent for engaging your pups’ mind and keeping them from getting bored.

The “Open Sesame Game” will let your dog remain cool and calm when somebody comes through a door in your home.

The “Magic Carpet Game” will again help in better understanding and tranquillity during times of potential excitement.

Level V - University

Now, your dog enters the senior level of the training programme. He/she will already be super calm and obedient by this point so now it is time to move on to teaching them all about emotional and impulse control.

This level will help in making your dog a better-behaved dog by using the following games to teach him or her how to be more confident and resist temptation:

The “Hide & Seek” game is a fun game for both yourself and you dog. It helps to create a stronger bond between you and is great for helping dogs with issues when being left alone.

“The Look” game is designed to eliminate unwanted barking at others, especially when your dog is looking out of the window.

The fun and trouble-free “Hot & Cold Game” will boost up your dog’s spirit and will help to boost their learning ability as well.

Level VI - Graduation

A you’ve probably gathered by now, this is one of the most advance section of this training programme. The graduation level is all about developing advanced level motor skills and the intelligence to effortlessly obey your commands.

Here’s an example of the kind of learning games included at this level:

“Leg Weaving Skills”. An excellent skill to teach your dog to obey more complex commands and to impress your pals at the same time!

The game, “Serpentines and Spiral” will train your pup to stay by your side at all times, even as you make erratic and unpredictable movements.

“Name Recognition” is an extremely cool technique that teaches your dog to recognise items by name. He/she will learn how to pick out toys by name and bring them to you.

Level VII - Einstein

Finally, your pooch is a genius now, and, by reaching this level he/she can easily impress any human they want with their skills and talent.

Teach your dog to keep his area clean even after hours of playing with the “Tidy up Game”. An invaluable lesson to learn.

The “Ring Stacker” game will again test your dog’s patience and encourage them to develop extra self-control.

“Play the Piano”. This one sounds a bit unbelievable but apparently, it’s doable. I have not reached this level with my dog yet but there are many who have, and they tell me it is certainly possible.

There really is so much content inside the brain training for dogs course. And that is without all the other bonuses I mentioned above.

My recommendation is to simply run through the brain training course as it is laid out then use the bonus behaviour training course to cover any more specific problems that your dog might run into.

Verdict - Is Brain Training 4 Dogs Worth it?

Pros

A Huge Amount of Content for the price your pay

Affordable, one-off payment

Highly qualified and experienced instructor

Safe, non-forceful approach

Simple to follow with videos and clear descriptions of the lessons/games

It's a fun way to train and bond with your dog!

Cons

Some of the videos seem to be old and do look a little dated

I felt a few of the games were a little unnecessary as they didn't seem to have a clear teaching purpose

Some of the lessons required equipment I didn't have around the house. A kids' pool, for example.

Final Verdict:

All in all, I really like this approach to training a dog; it is based around playing and rewards, which is great fun. The games are unique and some are pretty clever, which is perfect for keeping both you and your dog interested in the program.

I've already mentioned it a few times now but the course includes a large amount of helpful content and it is all simple to follow. As long as you're willing to put the time and consistent effort into it, it will help you to train your dog.

So, with all that being said, I would certainly recommend giving it a try. It is very affordable, a one-off payment of under £50 and comes with a 60-day unconditional money-back guarantee so you really can't lose.

link product: Training 4 Dogs

#mydogismy #todayfanphoto #pet #dog #cute dog

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anitabyars · 5 years

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“How is this book both adorable and sexy? The Trouble with Christmas is a big city meets small town, opposite attract hilarious romance full of holiday shenanigans, family, love and sigh-worthy moments. It's one of the must-reads of 2019! I absolutely loved it!" --Naima Simone, USA Today bestselling author

The Trouble with Christmas, an all-new opposites attract romance from USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews, is available now!

All Suzanne St. Michelle wants is an over-the-top, eggnog-induced holiday with her best friend in Credence, Colorado. But when her hoity-toity parents insist she come home for Christmas in New York, she blurts out that her sexy landlord is actually her boyfriend and she can’t leave him—Joshy loves Christmas. The more twinkle lights the better.

Rancher Joshua Grady does not love Christmas. Or company, or chatty women. Unfortunately for him, the chattiest woman ever has rented the cottage on his ranch, invited her rich, art-scene parents, and now insists he play “fake rancher boyfriend” in a production of the Hokiest Christmas Ever. And somehow…she gets him to agree.

Apparently, he’ll do anything to get his quiet life back. At least there’s mistletoe every two feet—and kissing Suzy is surprisingly easy. But in the midst of acres of tinsel, far too many tacky Christmas sweaters, and a tree that can be seen from space, he’s starting to want what he lost when he was a kid—a family. Too bad it’s with a woman heading back to New York before the ball drops…

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Excerpt

Grady barely felt the chill as he stripped off his freezing, sodden shirt in the equally freezing concrete shell of the mudroom. The silence was distracting. Too distracting, and he could think of little else. The last three mornings, he’d gone about his chores serenaded by chanting monks. Which was strange but…whatever. It didn’t bother him or the animals, and it gave his ranch hands something to laugh about.

Except now there was no music. And that was bothering him, because he suddenly realized he was thinking about her—something he’d been trying not to do. Had her power gone out? Was she sick? Had she fallen in the cottage and smacked her head on the stone floor? Had some kind of seizure? Was she unconscious? Had she decided to up and leave?

Yeah, right…he should be so lucky.

Grady shook his head, growling to himself as he flicked off the running faucet and plunged his hands into the steaming-hot sink of water, washing off the caked-on muck from his hands and arms and chest courtesy of a calf that had gotten itself bogged in a freezing quagmire caused by recent rain and melting almost-frozen ground.

He’d managed to rope it out with the help of two of his hands, its plaintive mooing and the distress of its mother keeping everyone focused on the job but somehow, when they were almost there, he’d managed to lose his balance and fall into the frigid mud.

His hands had laughed their asses off as they’d dragged his out of the muck.

The hot water felt good on his chilled skin as he picked up the cake of soap and lathered his arms and chest and neck. He needed a real shower, of course, but he’d learned a long time ago to wash up before he went inside. The plumbing in the mudroom was way more forgiving than the more delicate pipes inside the cabin.

Thankfully his jeans weren’t as mucky. Ordinarily he’d have stripped them off in the mudroom, too, and walked from the barn to the cabin in his underwear—isolated living did have its advantages—but he wasn’t about to do that with Suzanne St. Michellenearby.

And great…just great. He was thinking about her again.

He obviously wasn’t getting laid enough. Just how long hadit been since he’d been with a woman? Well over a year ago. Probably closer to two. Because that had to be it, that had to be the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about the curvy New Yorker even though she’d stayed on her turf exactly as he had demanded.

Reaching with one hand for the fresh towel that hung over the hook above the sink, he pulled the plug with the other, then proceeded to towel dry. At least up until he heard a faint gasp and spun around to find the woman on his mind standing just inside the doorway, her curves hidden in a huge red coat, that green knitted cap pulled down low over her forehead and ears.

His hands paused mid drying the back of his neck. The room wasn’t big, maybe five feet by five feet, which meant she was way closer to him than he was comfortable with, given his state of undress.

“Oh…I’m…sorry.” Her breath misted into the frigid air as her voice faltered. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

Her eyes fell to his chest, zeroed in on the nickel-size scar just beneath his right collarbone courtesy of some shrapnel, before straying to his pecs and abs for what seemed like forever, the awkward silence stretching. Normally Grady wouldn’t bother filling it because silences were where he felt most comfortable and the other person generally rushed in to fill them up. But Suzanne wasn’t bothering, either.

At least not with her mouth anyway.

Her eyes were a different story. They were having an entire conversation as they roved all over his chest. She was looking at him like he was a slice of one of Annie’s pies, and Christ if that wasn’t like a bullet straight to his dick. The kind of friendly fire he could do without.

Fucking hell. He didn’t want to be pie. Not this woman’s. Not any woman’s. He wanted to be…tofu. Nobody lusted after tofu.

“Had some trouble with a calf.” Grady felt like an explanation might help the situation, but he still felt like an idiot making small talk.

“Was it being born?” She pulled her gaze from his abs to his eyes. “Did you have to stick your hand up inside and drag it out? I saw that on a documentary once and couldn’t believe how messy it was. And how calm the mother was. I mean, I’m not sure I’d be okay to just stand there while someone stuck their entire arm up my hoo-ha, right?”

She hesitated for a moment like she’d done the first day they’d met, like she wasn’t sure this was a topic for polite conversation. But her mouth had already committed, so she jutted her chin and went for it.

“I know it has to be done and, let’s face it, a calf is much bigger than a man’s arm—”

Her gaze dropped to his arms via the scar, his chest, and his belly button. She was looking at him like pie again. Annie’s pecan pie with melted butter. Sweet and savory all at once. An orgasm for the tongue.

Not tofu. Plain, tasteless, orgasmlessTofu.

“Even yours,” she continued, forcing her gaze back to his face, and it took Grady a moment to pick up the thread of her ramblings. She shuddered. “But no thank you. I mean, seriously, females of all species really do get a raw deal. I bet you if the males had to push out disproportionately bigger babies through the passage provided for the process, they’d have invented some kind of handy zipper system a long time ago. Some dude would have patented the bejesus out of it.”

She stopped abruptly, snapping her lips closed as if her mouth had finally received the frantic shut the fuck upmessages from her brain. Her cheeks looked pink, but then so did her nose, so it was probably just the nippy December weather.

Grady stared at her, not only at the amount of words she’d spoken but at the content of her monologue. “We…” He spoke because it felt like his turn, but he didn’t even know what to do about cows with zippers. “We don’t calve in winter.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded briskly, her cheeks definitely growing pinker now. “That makes sense. Who wants to be cold and in pain, right?”

She gave a funny little half smile that ended quickly and awkwardly. Then they just stood and stared at each other for several beats longer than was normal or even comfortable, their warm breaths misting into the air.

Tucking her hands into the pockets of her red coat, she said, “I hope it’s okay to have a look around?”

Grady gave a brief, terse nod. “Just don’t go too far or go near the animals.” Last thing he needed was to rescue some damn fool city slicker who’d wandered off and gotten herself lost.

She nodded absently as her gaze drifted again, licking over his chest, lingering on the scar. He should be freezing, half-naked in a room that was little more than an icebox, but with her looking at him like she was trying to commit every line and chest hair to memory, he only felt hot.

Really fucking hot. Melted butter on pecan pie hot.

“I hope—” Her voice sounded a little uneven, and she cleared her throat. “I hope my music hasn’t been disturbing you the last few days.”

He wasn’t sure why she was making small talk—although it was preferable to incessant observations about cow hoo-has and zippers. Nor was he sure why he was standing ramrod straight in front of her, thinking about pie when he should be grabbing the spare shirt he kept in the cupboard above the washbasin and getting decent.

But up had been down since the moment she’d arrived.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed. It hadn’t been the music that had been disturbing him, that was for sure.

She nodded again, glancing around the room briefly before settling her eyes back on his chest. “Well…I guess I’ll…” She didn’t finish the sentence as her gaze once again zeroed in on the scar, and her lips rolled together in contemplation. “Do you mind—?” She stepped forward and raised her hand tentatively.

When he didn’t move because he was paralyzed by the realization she was actually going to touch him, she became bolder, stepping in closer again as her fingers made contact. She was so close now, he could smell her. Coffee and snickerdoodles? And something sharp, maybe chemical. Paint, he supposed.

“Is it a bullet wound?”

Grady flinched as she touched the scar, her fingers like icicles as they sunk into the small indentation. He closed his eyes as heat bloomed from the center, spreading like a ripple, burning like a furnace down the length of his body.

Blood pulsed hard and thick, everywhere. Damn it, she might as well be wrapping that cold hand around the throbbing hardness pressing into the zipper of his fly. It was probably forty degrees in this concrete box, but it felt like a sauna, and it was an easy 120 inside his boxers.

He swallowed. “It’s from…shrapnel.”

He had no idea why he wasn’t stepping back. He should step back. He should have said, Yes, I do mind, told her it was none of her business. He should be finding a shirt.

Find a fucking shirt, idiot.

“Did it hurt?”

Surprised by the question, he glanced down to find the bulky knit of her hat a whisker away from brushing the underside of his chin. “Like a bastard.”

She looked up and they were close—her mouth was close—her fingers a balm to the old wound that still made his shoulder ache on cold winter mornings. His heart thumped like a jungle drum and god almighty, it was hot enough in here to grow bananas.

“Was it bad? Did you bleed a lot?”

His throat was dry as the concrete beneath his feet. “It bled some.” Then, finally getting his shit together, he took a step back, and her hand slid away.

If his distancing bothered her, she didn’t show it, just simply said, “Thank you for your service.”

Grady didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say to this standard platitude. He appreciated the sentiment, but he’d just been doing his job. So he nodded, his pulse reverberating like a dinner gong in his ears, as she slowly backed out of the room and disappeared from sight.

Reaching for the sink, Grady gripped the curved edge in both his hands and hunched over, dropping his head down between his shoulder blades and taking some deep steadying breaths.

January could not come soon enough.

About Amy Andrews

Amy is an Aussie author of hot contemporary romance who believes in multiple orgasms, mighty wangs and happily ever afters. She’s been penning them for over twenty years and has 70+ books to her name.

As well as unforgettable characters and great sex you’ll also be treated to some laughs and a dollop of quirk because Amy doesn’t seem to know how to write a book without a bit of both. You might also cry a little because there’s nothing she loves more than a laughy-criey book!

She also loves sunsets and rainbows, unicorns and mermaids, booze and travel. And her home that overlooks the ocean. She may also happen to believe she was a Roman goddess in her past life because its the only thing that explains her adoration for all things Italy.

Connect with Amy

Instagram:@amyandrewsbooks http://bit.ly/2Z7Ss28

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AmyAndrewsAuthor/

Twitter: @amyandrewsbooks http://bit.ly/2uYHcqQ

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2Ssnmh9

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2Su0Owi

Website: http://amyandrews.com.au/

My Review

5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Christmas Romance Gold!

OH SO GOOD!! This is Christmas Gold! It deserves all the stars and more. I was immediately hooked, by this opposites attract story and I didn’t want this to end. Filled with so many LOL moments, tacky Christmas sweaters, x-rated Christmas cookies, over-the-top Christmas decorations, and a fake romance with a-hot-surly rancher, that was an erotic author’s wet dream. I think the cover captures Joshua perfectly, a seriously hot rancher with a subdued confidence.

I was totally taken by Joshua Grady, all sexy-broody-looming-silent-hunk of a rancher with his quiet, solitary life. But every December is extremely difficult for him, as he has to deal with the anniversary, and the loss of his parents and high school sweetheart.

So when Suzanne St. Michelle a artsy, curvy, talkative woman arrives much to his dislike, to stay a month in the cabin next to his ranch, he has no intentions of being friendly. Suzanne is there to find her muse and to paint the scenery that is all around her. But one look at Joshua and her muse is all about painting him. You could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. The heat is electric between them. She shook him to his core with her constant chatter, and womanly curves. Spine tingling heat!

But when Suzanne tells her parents a big white lie, that she is spending Christmas with her new boyfriend Joshy, who loved all things Christmas and had decorated his place for her. Her parents are on their way to meet him. Now Suzanne just had to get Josh to play along. He knew she was trouble, he just thought he could resist her. Their banter is hilarious. And their times together will touch your soul.

Get ready to get your Christmas spirit on. You don’t want to miss this one! Oh how I LOVE an Amy Andrews’ story and this is her best yet!

#socialbutterflypr #amy andrews #thetroublewithchristmas

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

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Jimmy & Janis

Jimmy: What it is, right, your twin left her coat at CG earlier & it's my neck if it's not back in her hands by me next shift Jimmy: pass it on Janis: Hmm Janis: Are you sure you've got the right person here? Jimmy: Grace Cavante is your sister isn't she? One of Janis: Unfortunately Janis: No doubt she'd rather you gave it to her yourself and that feeling is mutual, like Janis: Get a clue, lad Janis: couldn't be less obvious 'less she left her knickers Jimmy: Stop your chatting, a sec Jimmy: nowt's mutual that's why I'm asking you to get it, not her Jimmy: The resale's nowt either, I had a look Janis: You're in my inbox? Janis: Knew you were lost Janis: Poor Gracie, first you pie her then you call her cheap, gutted Jimmy: I've been round your family tree about 4 times Jimmy: Can't call myself lost Jimmy: You gonna grab this or nah? Janis: Unlucky, but I ain't gonna cry for you Janis: Wrong twin, again like Janis: What's in it for me? Already told me I can't flog it Jimmy: 💔 Jimmy: well I'd shout you a muffin but if you're anything like her, I'll be the one eating it when you don't & I'm watching my figure meself Jimmy: guess the pleasure of my company works if you are? Janis: Tell you ain't from 'round here Janis: No 🍀 Janis: Nothing like her Jimmy: sounds more like my luck's finally in Jimmy: got enough stalkers Jimmy: more than I've done shifts Jimmy: what you want then, other twin? Janis: Not that I doubt how special you are Janis: I completely do, by the way Janis: You get to thinking how you can make me having to fucking regale every detail of this frankly riveting convo to my sister worthwhile and I'll get to walking, yeah? Jimmy: You wound me, girl 💔💔💔💔 Jimmy: I sought you out, whereas she's been in my inbox unread since my moving in date, that'd do for starters Janis: If the situation's a dire as you reckon, you'll have plenty consolation, boy Janis: Welcome Janis: State, honestly Jimmy: You're my consolation if you do me this delivery Jimmy: feeding me to the wolves in lipstick if you don't, basically Jimmy: 'ave it on your conscience if you want, mate Janis: Fucking Hell, if I start atoning for all her cringe or offering myself up as 'consolation' to every lad she makes a tit out of herself in front of I'll never get anything done Janis: Ugh, alright, brains, do your job for you as well, shall I? Just put your mate's number on her to-go 'stead of yours, yeah? Jimmy: alright but how many of 'em are coming to you direct for help, I'm making myself look as much of a tit here, aren't I? Jimmy: brutal you Jimmy: newbies don't have mates to throw under buses Janis: Well, don't be fooled by how available I seem Janis: phone never stops, like Jimmy: I'll find another way then Jimmy: if you stop by for coffee I'll misspell your name like we never chatted, don't worry Janis: Barista bants, how cute Janis: Whatever, it's on my route, I can get it tomorrow AM Jimmy: what you prefer, Janet or Janice? Let me know Janis: 😑 Janis: If you want my sister to ride you, keep on taking the piss, she'll love that, like Jimmy: if you want me to be nice to you, keep using your sister for that A+ excuse Jimmy: 'cause nah, there's nowt more appealing than her getting on her bike Janis: Ha, fuck off, you're the one with a tips jar and manager to keep happy, dickhead Janis: I'm not saying she's not fussy, I'm just saying it might take me several cups of coffee to give you enough 3rd degree burns for her to be #overit Jimmy: funny Jimmy: & im just saying I'd rather give me ex a bell & have her do her worst ruining my life long distance Janis: Worth a shot then, isn't it? Janis: Just try and be less Janis: this Janis: she might reckon you're a changed man Jimmy: is it gonna change your sister's mind about me if I do? Jimmy: 'cause her mates have homewrecker written all over 'em Janis: It was a poor choice of friendship tat, yeah but they ain't the brightest, bless Janis: idk, probably help if the girl was real, mate Jimmy: she is real but shes also real far away Jimmy: & really hates me Jimmy: that's mutual unlike the attraction your little twin is harboring 💔 Janis: 💔 Janis: fuck someone here then, ain't gotta be all 💕 just look enough like it that they write you off their hit lists, yeah Jimmy: proper romantic you Jimmy: I'll go back to the drawing board if its all the same Jimmy: don't need another lass falling for me, do I? Janis: 🙄 Janis: If I had such an easy out, I'd use it Janis: fucking blood ties, such bullshit, along with romance but there we go Jimmy: Easy? yeah alright, Juliet Janis: Not saying you've gotta off yourself with the poor bitch, steady on, though peak 💘 so it is Janis: You're either a 😻 magnet or you ain't, can't have it both ways Jimmy: I just wanna be left alone Jimmy: shouldn't be a lot to ask but until I master leprechaun for fuck off, it apparently is Janis: Preaching to the choir...nah, fuck that, preaching to the big man himself Janis: You work it out, you've got my details now you fucking stalker so hmu then and not before k Jimmy: you know the saying, get stalked enough, become fucked off enough by it to become the stalker Jimmy: or summat Janis: Tragic Janis: No doubt you coulda been something, kid Jimmy: 💔 Jimmy: still could Jimmy: if you help me Janis: I don't know how to make a latte, soz Jimmy: not a requirement of dating me, and yeah, my boss is gutted Janis: you what? Jimmy: go out with me Jimmy: you said yourself it don't have to be a love story Janis: um yeah but you should both at least be somewhat into it, ideal world Janis: know you already called me out as the romantic here but Jimmy: nah, you're what I need Jimmy: I won't get tempted Jimmy: keep it easy, like you also said Janis: 🖕 Janis: Like I said, show me how it's worth my time and I will Jimmy: your sister would hate it Jimmy: not like I'm asking you to marry me, you look enough like her that'd be like asking myself to honeymoon in Vietnam Janis: You're a cunt, also, obviously not well-traveled Janis: say what you like Janis: it would be amusing to piss her off and I'm always up for finding new ways Jimmy: so you in? Jimmy: 3 date minimum Janis: You mean I actually have to spend time with you? Jimmy: as long as people think you are, do what you want Janis: Fill your boots Janis: but don't just be saying I let you finger me on your lunch break, like, that isn't working on anyone, least of all my sister and her stupid mates Jimmy: come get your sister's coat and we'll make the magic happen Jimmy: coupley pics and #s will work Jimmy: all they do is sip & scroll Janis: How magical can you really be, then? 😏 Janis: Fuck it, worth it just to piss her grafting you down the drain Jimmy: I'll fake rock your world, Jasmine Janis: Sure 👌 Make me forget my name half as many times as you have and you'll have fucked enough brain cells out to make me a thick Northern twat, clearly Jimmy: 💔 Jimmy: hope you're a better actress than you are sweet talker, love Janis: That ain't the one, fucking hell Janis: pick a better petname if we ain't taking time to remember Jimmy: let me know what you want me to call you Jimmy: Baby, right? I bet you're one of them girls Janis: 😒 Hilarious Janis: My daddy issues are pretty non-existent, soz to report Jimmy: what then? Jimmy: Can't call you Juliet if you aren't ride or die for me, darling Janis: I'm remember your unfortunate accent now Janis: it's probably best you don't speak Jimmy: strong, silent type Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: 👍 Janis: It's your fantasy, kid Janis: Big yourself up however you gotta Jimmy: fantasy? nah Jimmy: necessity Janis: You've not gotta warn me Janis: Not swooning over this chat Jimmy: 💔 Janis: We're all gutted Janis: push that down and smile for the 'gram Jimmy: 😁 Janis: That's the spirit Jimmy: I know yours is more 😏 Jimmy: control yourself if you can, Jenna Janis: Make no promises to control myself so Janis: 👊 behave or deal Jimmy: make one or its off Jimmy: your sister & his mates break enough of my boundaries Janis: If the problem is they're swinging for you, I'm gonna go right ahead and victim blame Jimmy: probably keep that off the 'gram, girl Janis: We laying down ground rules here and now, yeah? Jimmy: you got something else on? Janis: It's the Easter hols Janis: so no Janis: fuck all Jimmy: then may as well Janis: Alright Janis: No posting without getting the other's go ahead first Jimmy: done Jimmy: same goes for agreeing to go somewhere/do something as the power couple we're pretending to be Janis: 'Course Jimmy: & if you tell your sister summat let me know too 'cause she loves questioning me over her coffee Janis: Ha Janis: I do my level best to avoid her but easy Jimmy: you're not gonna brag about what a good boyfriend I am 💔 Janis: We'll have to work out how good you are first, like Jimmy: good enough that I'm off limits your sister & her mates Jimmy: no more no less Janis: Can do that Jimmy: don't fall in love with me for real, can you do that? Janis: 😏 Are you for real? Janis: Ego to go with the accent, is it Jimmy: just checking you're not like your sister for real Jimmy: could be protesting too much for all I know Janis: And this could just be a really bad come on for all I know Janis: we'll have to trust on this one thing, deal? Jimmy: Yeah Janis: Sorted Janis: Make me sound good, as I will be for you Jimmy: how good? Jimmy: nobody knows my dating history, what's yours? Janis: Likewise Janis: all you gotta do is make it realistic enough that people stop asking if I'm a dyke Jimmy: Easy Jimmy: Are you a take it slow girl or hook up on date 1 type? Janis: Won't be getting that graphic on the 'gram, leave it out Jimmy: But it won't stay on the 'gram, will it? Jimmy: People chat Jimmy: what reputation do you want? Janis: Probably better to not be a slag init Jimmy: but don't be keeping me waiting too long if you don't wanna sound gay Janis: alright, irresistable Janis: 2nd date, like Jimmy: 👍 Janis: I ain't, by the way Jimmy: Don't matter Janis: Does Janis: Who needs the pressure of being a beard? This ain't what this is, got it Jimmy: It'd be less pressure, probably Jimmy: you'd be better at faking it Janis: Sorry to disappoint you and all the girls 😒 Jimmy: if its the only time you're gonna, I'll cope Janis: Naturally Janis: Aim to please Jimmy: save it for the 'gram, Judith Janis: Reckon I'm being nice rn? Janis: Poor boy 💔 Jimmy: nice matters less than gay Jimmy: Don't wanna be your mate Janis: Good thing too, aiming to please here, keep up Janis: just saying, starting to doubt how 😍 they are now Jimmy: come see for yourself Jimmy: I'm working as we speak Janis: 😏 Wow so hot Jimmy: it could be if you're ready to kick this off Janis: Why not? Janis: Sooner we get it done sooner we'll see results Jimmy: in a bit then Janis: Laters, babes Jimmy: Cute Janis: That's why you're with me Jimmy: I'm not yet Janis: You're gonna be salty 'cos I won't ride you in your hipster hangout today? 😂 Jimmy: I'm getting paid to be here, you're the one hanging out Janis: I'm picking up the bitch's coat, piss off Jimmy: You could do that when we close Jimmy: You're coming to see me Janis: You do this much? Janis: Suspiciously good at it Jimmy: Which bit? Janis: The bit where you fake a relationship Janis: Good tactic to get bare girls, like or what Jimmy: You're my first 💕 Jimmy: don't let it go to your head, Josephine Janis: as much as that'd get 'em throwing out the #goals Janis: secret's safe with me, boy Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: don't have to go to these lengths up north Jimmy: girls just get if you're interested or nah Janis: 💔 it's a shithole, mate Janis: didn't you get told before leaving t'mines Jimmy: must've had too much coal in my ears or summat Janis: Don't know what you got 'til it's gone Janis: interested and interesting bitches included, obvs Jimmy: not only a pretty face you Jimmy: got it going on in your head too Jimmy: lucky me Jimmy: 😍😍😍😍 Janis: Yeah yeah Janis: Better take back what you said 'bout the leprechauns now you're coming up 🍀&🌹 Jimmy: if you save the humble for the #s I'll think about it Janis: Never been accused of being humble Janis: I guess the gay or nay is more pressing Jimmy: never checked a mirror or nowt, neither? Janis: 'Course, gotta spot myself at the gym, ain't I Jimmy: you can agree you're pretty then Jimmy: not an ugly duckling story either Janis: What's it matter, like Jimmy: im not fake dating one of them girls Jimmy: hates herself but still takes selfies Janis: that's another rule? i'll be thinking on my next then Jimmy: Can't prop up your self esteem Janis: Don't worry 'bout me, fake worry or otherwise ain't necessary Jimmy: I won't Jimmy: all worried out Jimmy: fake & real Janis: 🎻 Jimmy: customer service deserves a pity orchestra Jimmy: alright for you, rich girl Janis: I'll hire one out for date three if you earn it Janis: so 💸 Jimmy: just gimme the money Jimmy: if this was a naff teen rom com, I'd charge per date Janis: If I was richer, older and lonelier, you mean Janis: and you were desperate enough to be a rent boy Janis: you'd actually have to put out though so let's not Jimmy: only if I wanted top money Jimmy: the in it for the chit chat option would be more than I make at CG Janis: Then I hope to fuck you're a better fuck than you are bringing it with the chat, darling, no one is paying for this Jimmy: I'm not trying to impress you Jimmy: pay me and I'll be charming Janis: I'm not trying to pay Janis: Not that hard up, but tah Jimmy: don't complain about what you get then Janis: You ain't telling me what I can and can't do, babe Jimmy: I'm telling you I'm not here to listen to you whinge, babe Jimmy: Get a real boyfriend for that Janis: Have you tried talking to any of my sister's mates Janis: I really think it'll solve this whole thing Jimmy: I talk to 'em every shift Janis: That's not real Janis: that's wage slave robotics Jimmy: neither is this Janis: Whatever, do this at them then Janis: However fit you are, it ain't worth all this Janis: though, probably had worse, hm Jimmy: 💔 Jimmy: bad boy baristas are this year's...whatever last year's fad was Jimmy: whatever I say that's brutal I'm playing hard to get Jimmy: 🎻 Janis: 🤢 Ick Janis: last year's fad was the clap so like, careful Jimmy: I repeat, you're what I need Jimmy: nothing else has worked Janis: 😍 Janis: I said yes, didn't I Janis: it'll be sorted Jimmy: are you on your way? Jimmy: 'cause it won't be 'til then Janis: Keen Janis: Yeah, though, gimme 10 Jimmy: try and look like someone capable of getting my attention Janis: I'm not giving myself a shit fringe for you Janis: get some taste Jimmy: you don't know my tastes, Joanne Janis: I can guess Janis: and be right Jimmy: go for it Jimmy: try Janis: any bitch described in any indie song ever Janis: not like other girls 'cept like all the other girls at the shitty pub/gig drinking pints 'cos you'll think it's dead cool, like her tongue piercing and real leather jacket Jimmy: thats racist Jimmy: just 'cause I know all the lyrics to Wonderwall Janis: 😂 Janis: like glass, boy Jimmy: I hope you're better at pretending to know what I like Janis: I know I ain't wrong but you can have the automatic upgrade for free Jimmy: Funny Janis: What, now I'm TOO confident? Jimmy: Nah, too obvious Janis: Err, me or your lack of taste? Jimmy: you Janis: How Janis: Fucking cheek Jimmy: You've pulled the first cliche you could out of your arse Jimmy: is how Janis: I'm sooooo sorry Janis: sure she seemed really special and unique at the time Jimmy: I'm sorry that you're just like your sister Janis: Now who's chatting out their arse Jimmy: still you Jimmy: she don't know me either but she reckons she knows my tastes too Janis: and you don't know me, you barely know the bits of her she wants you to, like Jimmy: I'm not trying to even fake know you Janis: Mutual, hence idc what you fuck Janis: and it was a joke, fucking hell boy Jimmy: funny you Jimmy: like I said Janis: So you keep saying Janis: go do some work, i'm just killing time on the bus Jimmy: I'm working harder than you Jimmy: this chat is a slog without all the coffee I'm slinging between the lines Janis: Do one then? Save it for the 'gram, rule no.1 Jimmy: 👋 Janis: 🖕 Jimmy: 💕 Janis: what do you do that isn't shit coffee there Jimmy: drinks or food? Janis: Drinks Jimmy: shitter tea, tasteless milkshakes & minging smoothies Janis: 🙄 Joy Janis: if you can make the smoothie at least healthy as well as minging, do that Jimmy: I can make it taste alright if you keep that off the 'gram Janis: That's big talk, babe Jimmy: secret menus aren't just for starbucks Jimmy: I'm here all day I have to make some shit edible for myself Janis: Fair Janis: I'm willing to be impressed by the smoothie skillz at least Jimmy: Challenge accepted Janis: I'll be brutally honest, idc if you are bae Jimmy: calling me bae is more brutal Jimmy: hate that Janis: 😂 awh bae Jimmy: leave off, Jill Janis: hot and cold, you Jimmy: 💔 Janis: tell me 'bout it Janis: planning our fake breakup already Jimmy: Are you? Janis: that's the fun bit, right? Jimmy: make me look better than my ex did and it'll be a start Janis: i'll break your heart Janis: that's the reputation i'll take Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: steady Janis: 🤷 Janis: i want what i want boy Jimmy: you think you're having my heart? how many dates we going on? Janis: work fast Janis: faster than i'm letting you Jimmy: up yourself you Janis: rich 😏 Jimmy: yeah you are, don't rub it in, girl Janis: I ain't though Janis: like you said, her coat's shit Jimmy: means she's got shit taste not a lack of funds Janis: You can't be rich with 10 kids Janis: trust Jimmy: you could Jimmy: could be a princess for all I know Janis: 😂 what kind of deep cover is this Janis: living in this hole Janis: going to that school, sure Jimmy: #humble Janis: funny Janis: you wish Jimmy: Why? Jimmy: I don't care what you are, do I Janis: 💸 and clout would be an undeniable bonus, regardless Jimmy: I told you, I wanna be left alone, clout is the opposite of that Jimmy: & I don't need your money, girl Janis: Okay so you can't be bought, get you Jimmy: that's not what we're doing here Janis: I know Janis: Serious Janis: you're just easy to take the piss outta Jimmy: piss off Janis: I'll turn around now, like Jimmy: go on then Jimmy: I'm not having the threat of you walking hanging over me head Janis: So serious Janis: Not a princess with a driver, there's no changing the bus route on the rest of this lot now Janis: no matter how moody you get Jimmy: I've got a kid sister I ain't babysitting you too Jimmy: Be serious Janis: Yeah yeah Jimmy: Or call it off Janis: Nah Jimmy: It's not a yeah or nah question Jimmy: it's me saying don't half arse fake dating me Janis: I ain't going to Janis: like you said, this ain't real, and ain't how it's gonna be but can't prove that 'til I get there Jimmy: 👌 Janis: That ain't a response either Janis: I ain't the only one with something to prove Jimmy: Show your face & I will Janis: Try not to look too disappointed Janis: don't doubt some of your fangirls will be watching Jimmy: How many times do you want me to tell you you're pretty when nobody's listening? Janis: Shut up Janis: That ain't what I meant Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: See? Don't start Janis: 😍 only dickhead Jimmy: calm down, dickhead Jimmy: I've got this Janis: First time, you admitted as much Jimmy: Faking it, yeah Jimmy: I've done it for real, that's harder Janis: You reckon Jimmy: I don't care what you think so yeah Jimmy: As long as it looks good it don't matter if it is Janis: That's same as the real thing let's not lie Jimmy: Nah Janis: Agree to disagree, darling Jimmy: Disagree and tell you to shut your face, Jodie Janis: Save it for your ex, Romeo Janis: 💘 such a romantic Jimmy: If I was, she wouldn't be an ex, would she? Janis: Giving you benefit of doubt Janis: LDR never works, you're a 15 year old boy Janis: got like what, 13 more before you find the one, isn't it? Jimmy: what makes you think long distance is what ex-ed her? Jimmy: I never said that Janis: Guess not Jimmy: You don't have to fake knowledge about me Jimmy: nobody's asking who came before Janis: You don't know girls if you think that Janis: undoubtly scoping their profiles as we speak Jimmy: don't doubt they have but they won't find owt Janis: not gutted for 'em Jimmy: only yourself Jimmy: you'll have to keep faking knowing everything Janis: suits me fine, boy Janis: the truth don't interest me none Jimmy: spoken like a decent liar Janis: you know it Janis: truly your lucky day Jimmy: 😍 Janis: Ready? Jimmy: If you are Janis: Fuck it Janis: Why not Jimmy: see, romance ain't dead 💕 Jimmy: how could I refuse? Janis: in it for the smoothie Jimmy: 💔 Jimmy: got time to spit in it still Janis: Don't you dare Janis: Will actually fuck you up Jimmy: Get used to it, you're gonna have to kiss me Janis: Disgusting Jimmy: Sweet talking again Jimmy: Jeez, June, steady on Janis: You're the one bringing up necking when I've not even got in the door Jimmy: Are you ready or aren't you? Janis: 'Course I am Jimmy: then I can talk about it, can't I? Jimmy: it's too late for a no kissing rule Janis: If that's how you deal with bricking it Jimmy: piss off Janis: Too late now, babe Jimmy: it's not Janis: ? Jimmy: we don't have to do this if you're shitting yourself Janis: bitch, please Jimmy: I'm not gonna be your bitch, babe Janis: Not the pet name you want then? Jimmy: 🖕 Janis: Have plenty of time to think on it when you're swooning 😉 Jimmy: It's so funny that you believe you'll able to think on anything Janis: 😏 Mhmm Janis: catch me mentally writing my shopping list to pass the time during Jimmy: You aren't even a good liar in private Jimmy: We're doomed Janis: Shut up Janis: Not seen such a romance since Kate and Leo Jimmy: 🎻 doomed, mate Janis: you wanna go down with the ship so bad Janis: drama 👑 Jimmy: I want you to put your riches where your big mouth is Jimmy: Stop your chatting and come on Janis: Keen as Janis: I'm nearly there, stop pining, it's embarrassing Jimmy: You're such a dickhead Jimmy: Maybe I should just date your sister Janis: Go on Janis: I ain't gonna save you from the literal slag pile of exes, you ain't deserve it Jimmy: 💔 Jimmy: you don't deserve me Jimmy: well snide you Janis: You love it Jimmy: not having my 💘 Joan, I told you Janis: i don't want it Janis: just gonna 💔 it and bounce Jimmy: 😂 Janis: k i'm coming in guard your 💘 and 👀 'cos i look 🔥 Jimmy: I'll judge that Janis: you forgot what we're doing here or what Jimmy: If we're dating you gotta bring it as my girlfriend Jimmy: so nah Janis: 🙄 Janis: 'cos you look so fit in your stupid uniform 👌 Jimmy: We're meant to be improving your rep not trashing mine Jimmy: & yeah I do 👌 Janis: Really? Nothing to do with how scared you are of these crazy bitches k Jimmy: fed up ain't scared Janis: still Janis: you need me Janis: don't forget it, pal Jimmy: I won't if you don't, mate

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ghostmartyr · 5 years

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Pokémon FireRed Nuzlocke [Part 12]

Can we beat the game using Nuzlocke rules and only battling against trainers?

The current answer is leaning towards no. Still, we shan’t give up or in.

Four badges in. Next stop?

Uh. Haven’t decided yet.

So things did not go what I would call according to plan with the Grimer. Ideally, it would have been a higher level than 30. It wouldn’t need me to hold its hand through a bunch of leveling. It would immediately be an asset. Life would be beautiful. Nothing would hurt.

Only it’s level 30.

I have a Ground, Water, Electric, and Normal Type in rotation. Grass has historically been a problem, but it is much less of a problem with a Snorlax. Oak isn’t always the most useful, but he’ll be receiving a huge power boost come Surf collection.

Bark and Trunk are going to be wanting all the Attack EVs I can feed them. Sap is going to want Attack as well. And HP.

Its move pool is a huge plus, and I would be happy to have it available, but to make it available, a lot of switch training would have to happen. When Sprinkle went through that, experience gain dropped to a slow crawl. Sprinkle was only level 25, and at an even later stage in the game, but the approach taken with this round was intended to be geared towards a minimum of pokemon.

Other things to consider would be that in the first run, I lost two pokemon, and a lot of work went into making up for that. The two runs can’t be compared fairly with what levels to expect further down the road. ...I. think.

By the first Elite Four fight, Po was level 46. My highest level pokemon was 49.

It did not go well.

I need this one to go better.

Does it go better with Sap, or does it go better with maxing the heck out of the other four.

I really, really want to use Sap.

Having a status-reliant choice instead of a pure powerhouse makes me more comfortable with everything else. Minimize is good. Screech is welcome. Sludge Bomb is welcome. Acid Armor is welcome. Muk is a kickass thing to have available.

But I’m not sure splitting the exp is going to do me any favors this late in the game. Silph offers a lot of lenience, I guess, but. Cycling Road is going to go to Trunk. So is a lot else, and what doesn’t should help out Bark.

Five pokemon starts to be a lot.

Fuck.

I’m trying it out.

Sap, welcome to the team. Don’t die.

In happier news...

Good job making it this far, buddy.

Route 16, what are we catching here today?

Doduo!

Sap, prove your worth by failing to kill it.

Damn it, Sap. +123 to you and Bark. -_-

Siiiiiigh. I need 30 pokemon for the Itemfinder.

Now Trunk is just going to claim. As much of Cycling Road as possible. Bark will help when possible. ...Or do I want to go deal with Silph? Hey, past me, wtf is the best way of doing this nonsense?

..hm.

I’m going to do Silph for the sheer heck of it, I think. I don’t want to get as far as my Rival yet, but. I don’t know. I’m just not feeling Cycling Road right now. Video games are supposed to be fun, right? Let’s chase some damn fun.

And I don’t think I ever got my Route 7 thing. Let’s do that, too. Hi Growlithe.

SAP WHAT THE HECK. WE WANTED THAT.

Did I misremember how much damage Sludge does???

...

Oh.

Yes.

Yes, I did.

I very much did.

...+130 to Sap and Acorn. -headdesk-

With that in mind, actually, Sap, you and Bark want to try your hands on the dojo next door to Sabrina? Trunk can’t touch any of those guys thanks to the Super Effective problem.

..And Bark can barely touch any of them thanks to her low Defense.

Yeeeeeah, after that short experiment, we’re just gonna go straight to Silph. Where the Rockets are not a thing to be too afraid of.

Beautiful building.

Hellscape place.

...

I don’t wanna do this, either. Uh. South of Lavender, maybe?

Out of order ALL the things.

Route 13, let’s catch a thing.

The thing is a Venonat! We now wait and watch to see if it will end up dead like other recent catches for totally unpreventable reasons.

Caught!

Its name is Oak.

Route 14, in the middle of all these trainers we’re beating down largely out of order.

...Gloom’s technically not viable because Oddish and species clause, but screw it, it’s not going to be used, I’m too lazy to look up what else is here, and I just want this part done and over with. I know that’s really bad form. but. I am not a rules lawyer. once, maybe. not anymore.

Caught. Its name is Oak.

So far with trainers, the way I’m keeping my sanity with exp division is that the Bikers go to Trunk, and Bark and Sap get the Bird Keepers.

It is slow and tiresome. I do not care for thinking when I am playing my video games.

We’re in Route 18 now, and doing the same nonsense to a Raticate. This is it. This is the point. This is where I stop caring about any of the rules except the no grinding thing. Everything else is irrelevant.

Bark ffs. Stop. Sigh.

+414 exp. Route 18 officially dead.

(Also, this looks like I should have known that she would kill it, but Bark still knows Mud Slap. It does as much nothing as anything on my team can. Still not enough nothing when critical hits are involved.)

Good Rod get so that Fuchsia might have a happier ending.

Back in the realm of completely legal catches, we have a Poliwag!

Throwing a Great Ball proves the best strategy. In that it works. Poliwag get! Its name is Oak.

In other, trainer-related news, Sap hits 34 and learns Acid Armor.

We have also cleared out the section of trainers that is not Saffron and not Cycling Road that comes pre-Koga. Naisu.

-time passes-

So, post-Cycling Road, Trunk is level 41, Bark is level 42, Sap is 35, Oak is 37, and Acorn is 40. I think what makes the most sense in terms of safety is to go clear out the Silph building, then deal with the dojo and assorted Gyms.

Unfortunately.

I hate Silph Co.

So, so deeply.

Deep breath time.

Oh, wait, I want Oak to have Surf first. Never mind, we can still delay this party!

Let’s do it.

Hey, and while we’re at it, we have a chance at a Parasect!

-gasp-

We caught it!

Its name is Oak.

I don’t remember if it was me or someone I knew, but as a child, I have distinct memories of the timer flat-lining just a handful of squares away from talking to this guy. It filled me with enough sadness that I think maybe I was the one having the issues.

The Safari Zone is a lot harder when you have no idea what you’re supposed to do or where you’re meant to go.

Oak learns Surf!

We also give the Warden his teeth back, so Strength get.

I’m gonna see about catching a Route 19 thing. Due to it being something I can do that doesn’t involve the Silph building.

Yes, a Krabby. As we learned from Heero’s run, they make for excellent HM slaves.

Caught!

Its name is Oak. Sadly, I think it will be replacing Oak in the party.

Sigh.

I think we’re. back to the sad part.

(Route 17 option: Doduo. Status: caught. Name: Oak.)

UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.

Granted, it’s much easier without having to record every single fight, but the memories of the most recent time I did this are harsh and painful and I don’t like them.

Several floors later, yeah okay, this isn’t so bad.

I still hate it.

However, I can safely say I know who the best character in the Pokemon multiverse is.

Best. Girl.

She’s on floor 9, future self. Sorry about your life.

Because there are so many vitamins hidden around the building, I’m starting to really panic about how my team is going to handle the final parts of the game. I of course love all my children equally, but losing the first team was rough, and I can’t imagine that I’ll continue to engage with my pokemon on any level if things consistently fall to pieces in the very last sequences.

In a funny way, I think the EV training I’m softly tripping through might be hampering things a little. The balance is more sideways than my usual in-game teams have, because I’m focusing a lot on who’s fighting what. There are no random bursts of Defense being distributed, for instance. Oak is the closest to balance, and that’s because Oak had to do most everything before we had a real team (no offense buddy, you rock).

I don’t know. I’m paranoid. Things did not go well with Heero and friends. I think I want to invest in some of the X [stat] items, you know, like the way of the speedrunner, but the way I usually play these games involves brute force.

Full stop.

I can’t repeat enough how little I enjoy thinking in my video games.

But what that means is that I’m not used to using X items. And spending a turn on something I haven’t spent years of background noise thinking about could have disastrous consequences.

The disaster is something I fear. Clearly.

Sigh. There’s not helping it right now, so. Silph.

LOOK MAN, CONSIDERING THE NUMBER OF TRAINERS I HAD TO BEAT TO GET UP HERE

I kind of love that your Rival doesn’t appear to do anything at all about Team Rocket. He just shows up because hey, Red will be doing the hero stuff over there! Time to throw down!

Then he loses and just goes back to worrying about his League quest.

He’s almost like a real ten-year-old.

Acorn thank you for existing.

Wait. Crap, what deals with the Venusaur? Did I decide to just throw Trunk at that? Because that’s what I’m doing?

Yeah, fine, that works.

I got a Lapras.

Its name is Oak.

Sprinkle, I miss you.

Oh whoops. Acorn’s still in front. I don’t think I want that.

Kangaskhan without a Fighting Type is weird. Not a problem weird, because yay, Trunk exists. But weird. I keep expecting to have something super effective against it.

One Master Ball for me. Yay.

Now off to the dojo.

Where I’m going to try not to get Sap killed by letting him have this fight for great exp. I trust Sap’s moves. I trust the concept of their usefulness. Then I see critical hits and tragedy everywhere.

Sap.

Do not die.

Does my hat look black to you.

Level 37 Hitmonlee.

You know. I have the post that says this involves a level 37 Hitmonlee open in another tab. And yet. This still comes as a horrible shock and my brain is already playing taps for Sap.

The pain of one Hi Jump Kick. Not bad. I think we might make it, little guy.

We won!

And no one died!

Yay!

I guess that means it’s time for Koga.

Boo. But we’ll let Trunk punch through. Maybe with Bark, too.

Or Oak can eat a Kadabra. That works.

Trunk makes it through all the pre-Koga peeps with little trouble, and we move on to the man himself.

-gasp-

Awesome. More awesome is how everyone’s still alive. Oh happy day before we go forth and fight Sabrina.

Toxic get.

Trunk is level 46, as seen above. Bark is 44. Acorn is 42. Oak is 41. Sap is 37.

Oak’s job is to eat Sabrina. With any luck, Oak will continue to be a help with Blaine, though Bark and Sap will want some of that sweet exp too.

...Basically, what this all means is that I’ve stopped worrying about most of what’s going on with my team. I’m now just watching the levels and letting my dread run the show.

Dread and Oak. The dream team. Oak’s hit 44. I have faith.

.....Ooookay things are going awry because a Calm Minded Alakazam packs a wallop with Psychic, so I’m switching in Acorn under the assumption that he can survive one Psychic and will outspeed the thing.

Pictures taken just before disaster, fyi.

Houston, we have a problem.

Trunk wraps things up.

But. Uh.

Gyarados damage control is gone.

Acorn is gone.

What even is life without Acorn.

That critical hit would have been the end of Oak. Your oldest friend. I know we both wanted things to go differently, but I’m sure you understand why this is the end result.

I will miss you.

So much.

The lack of your warm presence will be a loss for us all.

I also no longer have something on my team with Thunderbolt, so. The script is no longer clear. I guess I can be less worried about levels, but. This right here might be the end of this round.

With a heavy heart, we head to the oceans where Acorn should have reigned supreme.

And stop Sap from evolving so he can learn Sludge Bomb at 43. Hopefully doing that won’t lead to another unfortunate accident, but if it does happen, I’m sadly resigned to it.

I don’t know how many times Sap has hurt himself in confusion in this fight, but it’s too many.

Then the Tentacruel comes in when this is finally over, and Sap hurts himself in confusion.

Yeah.

Sap’s just eating every single confusion problem of the entire run. He’s taking it all for himself.

But. we. get. through. it. As a family.

Hit Route 20, and now I have a level 8 Tentacool. Its name is Oak.

Supersonic is hitting everything and it is absolutely miserable.

Seafoam Island gives us.... Golbat! Apparently we already had a Zubat, so whoops, but in any case, its name is Oak. And needs to be moved from the D E A D box because whoops.

Does Oak want to learn Fly and help greatly with things not being awful?

Boy howdy do I.

And I am at 30 pokemon in my Pokedex, so it’s time for me to go grab my Itemfinder and Leftovers.

...Oh. Golbat doesn’t learn Fly. Well fine then. Another Oak will help me.

After all.

He is

Oak’s Aide.

Got one Leftovers. Two Leftovers. Awesome.

-many minutes later-

Sap gets Sludge Bomb! Do you know what that means?

Sap! We’ve done it! We’ve kept you alive! You’ve made it through your trying times as a Grimer!

Now let’s go into that non-haunted mansion that makes up most of Blaine’s island’s real estate.

I’m just going to shove Bark in front and. idk. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m just waiting for Victory Road, the day of reckoning, and. Maybe better than last time.

Growlithe caught in the mansion. Its name is Oak.

Secret Key get.

Blaine, why must you be so sketchy.

Okay, so for this Gym, I think I’ll be using Sap more than expected. Bark and Oak will deal with a lot of Giovanni, because they don’t have to worry about Ground really causing an extra problem. That makes this a better place for Trunk and Sap to level up. Agreed?

Yeah sure, whatever.

I guess the other thing to consider is if Bark will really be a help in this endeavor.

She’s very, very fast, and will learn Earthquake naturally. But she can’t take a hit, and with the loss of Acorn, I’m thinking what I have to do is just have Trunk, Oak, and Sap tank everything; lots of X items, lots of Full Restores.

Most of the time, Bark can’t afford to take a second hit of anything.

If I really want to optimize, Cutting down to three out of my four might be the better call.

Ugh, that’s such a dangerous number, though.

Sap has an amazing move set. I really could just...

Lorelei, Bruno, Agatha, Lance, Rival.

Trunk could probably handle Lorelei. Sap could do the Fighting half of Bruno, and the other half isn’t really a problem. The plan with Agatha was always to teach Po Shadow Ball, but then Zaft needed Thunderbolt, so I couldn’t afford it. Lance is hell, but not one a Dugtrio is likely to improve by much.

I have no idea what to do for Oak.

But if I can set Sap up, a lot of problems become manageable. I can’t brute force this. I keep saying that, and I keep ignoring it because that’s not how I play these games. I need better strategies. Bark’s Attack stat isn’t up to being a glass cannon. She’s a glass rifle, maybe. Fantastic, but eating up resources without serving an extra purpose. She’ll be just as dead in two hits if I keep on giving her exp. Leveling could remove that weakness, but I don’t have anything to work with there.

I have to focus on three.

Damn it.

For now, let’s finish Blaine, shall we.

Got the badge.

Bill Gaiden?

So he says.

So ends the post, because I just can’t.

#Pokemon #Nuzlocke #Nuzlocke Challenge #playthrough

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