#but this guy gets all of it instead ??? per quarter ?? no.

[kuroosdarling]

my job rn is playing games with me and my coworkers are ready to walk out !! incoming rant …

[orteil42]

Between the recent custom buttons post with the pipe bomb and the gamification post with the post -deleting boss fight I'm starting to get absolutely feral over the idea of you making a social media platform.

The companies that run the current options are cowards.

i would honestly love to give it a crack and were i younger and sillier i think i probably would. unfortunately by now i've become a bit too aware that creating a social media website is one of those nightmare projects that is guaranteed to be 500 times more work and trouble than you initially expect, and if i get into that i'd never have time for anything else. i'd also have to deal with hiring an actual team and be an actual company instead of just some guy who codes in his bedroom. and then let's say maybe the website takes off and we get a few thousands of active users. after a while our uptime becomes terrible; people can't log in, posts won't load. tech sites are starting to make fun of us. we have to grow, get bigger servers, hire more people. eventually i'd have to confront the fact that despite my cute take on monetization our social media isn't recouping the growing server expenses and our seed money is drying up and people at the office are starting to bang at my door to get paid. do i pull the plug and throw away everything we've built so far? likely not, even my own ego aside there's too many people's livelihoods on the line. other folks on the team are motivated to make this work, and a feedback loop forms where we start to ever-so-slightly readjust our values if it means we get to survive another quarter. i get more cynical; our ad slots are more and more intrusive, our monetization strategy gets shiftier and more aggressive. we accept funding from less and less savory entities. we start collecting user data beyond simple telemetry. if we've gotten big enough by that point, we may choose to restructure and begin taking on shareholders. this is a deal with the devil, and we now have a fiduciary duty to play nasty and treat our userbase like livestock in order to secure short-term profit. we can't just stop accepting new users; continued growth demands that we throw away what's left of our ethics to accommodate the gargantuan swaths of money that hundreds of thousands of database calls per second require. those of us who disagree with the new direction are gradually nudged away from positions of power. me, i've either been kicked out of my own project a while back or i've adapted to become someone i would've despised a few years prior. this is all assuming the website didn't crash and burn a few months after launch from either my technical shortcomings or my inexperience with management, or maybe just because our site ended up being too niche to really snowball. it is fun to think about tho!

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

"scalloped" taters, an Old AF family recipe that was only written down in the last 20 years or so, with no measurements anywhere on the recipe card

oven-safe dish. preferably lidded, but loose aluminum foil works fine too

potates, however many you want or need to use up, sliced as thin as you get can them without a mandoline because no one in the family has ever had one

onions, halved and also sliced thin, quantity relative to how much you like onions

all purpose flour

milk (or halfnhalf if you're a decadent lil guy. you can also use unflavored and unsweetened nondairy milk. i've never tried it, but relatives have and reported positive results)

butter, either room temp so you can plop little bits of it or cut into tiny cubes

seasonings (salt, pepper, i've added fresh thyme and sweet paprika before to great success, old bay because i was half asleep and thought it was paprika and it was fine, nutmeg, five spice, go ham)

add a layer of taters to the bottom of the dish, not specified how deep, but flat double layer turns out best by my experimentations. add some onions. sprinkle some seasonings on it to taste. sprinkle some flour on it. again, no measurements, i use at least one heaping big soup spoon's worth of flour per layer, a solid dusting but you should be able to still see the potatoes through it. a few dots of butter. cannot stress enough that this is how the got dam recipe is written

repeat layers until you run out of potatoes, pressing down as needed. you want a little room between the top of the taters and the lip of the dish. or just bake it with a sheet pan on the rack below it if you're paranoid. don't flour the top layer of taters, butter it liberally instead. how much butter do you want? this is a recipe from 1890s southern usa, home of Eating Fat Recreationally, so the traditional answer is "too much"

the strongest vibe check: pour an unspecified amount of milk (carefully) into the potatoes without disturbing the layers. i usually put the milk in my nicest measuring pyrex with the good spout and pour slowly against the side of the dish. "how much milk?" you might ask naively, like i once did. "enough" is the answer i got. i usually pour until i see the whole mass of taters/onions/flour just start floating off the bottom of the dish. top layer not fully submerged but rubbing elbows with the milk. i like saucy potatoes. the temperature of the milk doesn't matter. i've simmered shit like garlic and bay leaf in it before pouring to great success

bake at 375 until it's done. literally word for word what the recipe says, doesn't say to cover it. i do so i can control sauce thickness and browning, but even that isn't necessary. i start checking after 20 mins. when it's done, the taters and onions will be soft all the way through and the milk/flour/butter/seasonings will have thickened into a sauce. how well this sauce hugs the taters and onions will entirely depend on whether my great great great grandmother reached through your spoon to help guide your flour to milk ratio. too runny for your liking, take the lid off and bake it some more. too thick, add more milk, push it around a little bit to mix, and bake it some more. the world is your potato

it's at its best after a 10-15 minute rest, but it isn't necessary. amount made is also relative; i have done a single serving of this in a ramekin with one (1) potato, quarter of an onion, in a toaster oven, all while very very sick, and it turned out splendidly. it's solid comfort food, 20/10 if great³ gramma possesses you during assembly

------

ooooh ty ty

[kiefbowl]

hi! do you have any advice for negotiating a higher salary? i think the job i was hired to do a few months ago deserves a better pay but idk how to go about asking for it

This is so spooky I was literally thinking about making a post about asking for more money this morning. you must have been listening to my thoughts lol

Yeah, I have some advice, but keep in mind that different companies and industries might have little quirks I'm not aware of, take these points as very broad advice you might want to adapt for your own personal situation:

If you company does any kind of raise schedule (as an example: every year on your anniversary you are entitled to a 1-3% raise based on performance) - if you're about 8-12 weeks until that time, try to hold out until after you get that raise. I only suggest this because almost all companies will tell you the raise you negotiated takes over as your new raise schedule, so this is really just to get more money in the long run. The 8-12 weeks benchmark is just a suggestion to try to keep your request to negotiate and your scheduled raise in different financial quarters, which might help.

Have a clear goal of what you're asking for. Clear doesn't mean "super specific" but it can. At minimum, have the number you're going to be asking for. What's probably better though is to have the number you're going to be asking for if nothing else changes, and what more you'd be willing to do for even more money than that.

Only answer questions that are asked, only provide information as needed. You can start the conversation by saying "I'm coming to you requesting a raise" and let them respond to that. You can say things like "My duties have expanded including xyz" and you can say things like "I think my skillset is valuable" and "I think I provide x value to the company because of y reasons," but don't just launch into a spiel about what you think you deserve without seeing how they react first.

Talk in numbers. Just get straight to the point when they ask how much. Have a number for the amount per year if salary/amount per hour if hourly, plus convert that number into the percentage raise it would be. Asking for 20% more is a big ask, you know what I'm saying? Even if it's fair on the market for you industry, if they're paying that low from the market it means it's built into their business plan and you might want to consider a different company. and if they set a precedent with giving you 20%, they don't have much to stand on when you go tell all your buddies and they start asking for 20%. And if that's the situation at your company, at that point, you might wanna consider just unionizing instead lol.

It's good to consider the other guy on the other side of the table when you're negotiating. People give you things you want if you're considerate of the things they want. Some things to keep in mind that might be on your boss's plate: annual budgets, quarterly budgets, hiring quotas, hiring freezes, established pay structures decided by powers that be way above them that they have no control over, the fact that they will have to take your request to their boss and/or HR to get approval...like speak intelligently to these concerns as best you can. And be in a quid pro quo mindset. The argument is either "I already do this incredibly valuable thing you don't want to lose so give me more money or I will stop doing this by going elsewhere" or "I will do even more incredible value you don't want to lose if you give me more money, or I will do nothing by going elsewhere." Focus on what do they get and what do they lose if you don't get what you want. Except in professional parlance :)

Have confidence that you have every right to just ask. You are not some shit covered indentured peasant speaking to your god appointed king. You are a human person who is allowed to have adult conversations with other adults. If you can keep that confidence of "I'm just an adult having a normal conversation" it'll keep you on track and not get swayed into whatever tangets your boss my hem and haw on. Short, sweet, and to the point as best as possible.

Your boss is probably not fantastic at negotiating because almost no one is. So don't even sweat it. Ambush them a little, be polite, lay it on the table, then ask them what's next. If they seem to be hesitant, weird, put off...you could read malicious evil intent into it, but they're probably just woefully under-prepared and might flail a bit as some distraction. Just be like "Well, we can table this and I'll follow up with you on Friday" if it really seems like they can't get nail down an answer, or if you know they have to talk to their higher up anyway.

You might just get it. It might be the easiest thing you've ever done. I've countered and gotten exactly what I've wanting in 0.005 seconds flat. That's always a bit bittersweet because you just know you could have asked for more lol. Your boss might already have numbers at the ready for when people ask for raises, they just need people to ask. If you're company is doing well and pulling in good revenue, you will probably have a very easy conversation. So go get 'em.

Most importantly, show them your switchblade have fun and just be yourself!!!

[quaranmine]

ranking fire lookouts i visited last week

i didn't expect to see like...any on this trip. most of them snuck up on me LOL and yet we were able to find FIVE of them! who knew all I had to do was go to national forests in a different state? here there are ranked from highest to lowest

1. The Probable Federal Crime

this one was the coolest! i climbed this one! It's 100 ft with a 7'x7' cab up top. It was in service until 1987 but it still serves as a radio repeater. There are several buildings at the bottom, one of which clearly had the sound of machinery behind the door. It had signs of recent maintenance even though it has been decomissioned. It had spectacular views, with no towns or human settlements visible in any direction:

2. Rich Mountain Lookout

I could have broken into this one but I did not. I withheld my desire to commit a crime. My dad mocked me for not crawling under the fence LOL. This one has a proper catwalk and was possibly a live-in one. A whole family lived here in the 20s when it was first built, but this version is a replacement from the 50s, so I have no idea what it looked like before them. It is approximately the height AND style I have been imagining in my AU so I was delighted to see it. It is slightly taller than the one in the Firewatch game, but a remarkably similar design other than being steel instead of wood.

3. Devil's Knob Lookout

Not in good repair at all. Missing the ladder at the bottom and the final flight of stairs. We saw two deer. My dad climbed it anyway because he's an idiot

4. The Occupied State One

we spotted this one from the main road and turned down the next side road to hunt it down. We ended up driving along the wildest road of FANCY vacation houses, mostly still under construction. A few of these houses had the steepest driveways I've ever encountered in my entire life. Eventually we found the correct turn off for the lookout, drove straight past the no trespassing sign with confidence, only to immediately turn around because there was a guy there despite it being the holiday. Later I learned this is one of the few still in operation in the state. Unsure why it might be manned in November since there is a lower risk of wildfire in fall/winter, but it is in operation so maybe that guy was working.

Bonus:

the tire shop pulled this out of our tire the next day after we went poking around the vacation home construction site. miraculously this did not ruin the tire and they didn't charge us for a patch!

5. Supposed Former State Forestry Lookout

This one has basically no workspace up top and I'm interested (mildly suspicious) of its history since it seemed out of the ordinary. Clearly it was used as an observation tower but as a regular, everyday job? unclear

Also, I had to break into this one too. I jumped the fence. This was because the quarter-fed turnstile did not work. It was $1 per person but we put $4 into it and it only started turning once. Then it stopped turning immediately and briefly trapped me in the middle of that metal cage. Fortunately it turns freely in the opposite direction so I could escape and was not, in fact, trapped forever in its bars. Although the moment it stopped did put the fear of God in me a little before I realize I could still get out. Thus I did not feel bad for climbing the fence. We actually overpaid.

Bonus:

devil's head lookout, you are still #1 in my heart

[cuprohastes]

Hey you, space orc!

Sometimes, Dave The Human got mistaken for an actual human, because someone saw the name and mistook her for Dave the Human - an actual Human, currently under the moniker of Phalanges Mitten as part of his deep cover as a female Atrix after accepting a sort-of marriage proposal from a small, actual Atrix.

And then the female Tsin would show up as per request and someone would double take and go 'Oh er'. and they'd call EVA 43, who was known for being an unkillable badass, or Phalanges, who was not known for being an unkillable badass, because he never mentioned the thing with the Thotari assassins or that one time he beat up an entire pirate ship.

This prompted Dave to broach the subject over food in the Cafeteria:

"So... what is a Space Orc?" she asked. Cat fantastic said "Gweep?" and Phalanges and EVA 43 did that thing where they leaned back and swapped significant looks and made 'Mmm, hmmm' faces.

Dave watched Cat Fantastic, Phalanges Little Guy copy the move thoughtfully, and then EVA 43 said. "It's an old joke. Like from before the Wallandernook showed up and got us interstellar."

Dave nodded instead of doing the ear sweep, a carefully learned habit. "Yeah... they got us off planet entirely - Without artificial gravity, we can't do it in person - And of course there's that whole 'oops bombed ourselves into an anti-space doctrine." she said.

Cat Fantastic said 'Graak' and Dave wondered what he meant by 'Nice exposition'.

EVA 43, who's actual name nobody could ever recall for more than a few seconds continued and once again Dave was bemused that the moment she looked away she couldn't picture 43 in any away: not their gender, skin colour... nothing: As though someone had written a character and failed to give them any description at all and for some reason kept up with the gag.

"We have this literary tradition of writing fantasy works - Fiction - With uhhh..."

"Tropes." offered Phalanges.

"Tropes - Yes, OK so one is Orcs. They're barbaric, kind of dumb compared with Humans... but they're a bit bigger, a bit stronger, a bit hardier..."

"So in any physical situation, the Orc is the one who's most likely to survive, discounting any plot necessity." said Phalanges.

"Oh I guess I get it." said Dave. "We've got something similar but it sort of loosely translates as Even Bigger People." - She herself was a Big Female, which was unrelated to size. It just meant that without modern medical intervention she was unlikely to change gender, unlike three quarters of the Tsin population who would swap to maintain gender balance naturally. The connotations were 'The most female type of female', which got adjusted for the benefit of talking to other species.

Cat Fantastic said "Graak." which was true: As a monogendered species who's reproductive roles were defined by body mass out of convenience, and who's actual reproduction was 100% external and more akin to a turtle dumping her eggs and then letting the hatchlings just deal with survival, the Atrix version of a bigger stronger more durable Atrix was literally just the biggest strongest and most durable Atrix that you knew.

And compared to Humans Atrix were fragile: A normal human could walk off injuries that would be incapacitating to an Atrix.

43 famously stepped into hard vacuum with nothing but a surgical gown, after surviving a few hours with life support disabled in a crippled EVA suit, by just being reversibly dead.

They'd done it to save their friend, an Atrix, who had to have a new eye installed, and had life-long scars from mere low pressure exposure that was too low for them to maintain consciousness... a situation that for a human would possibly, if sustained for a while, caused a hickey and dry eyes, maybe a wheeze from inhaling hard.

Phalanges nodded. "So yeah - In comparison to most species, we can survive higher gravity - or no gravity - injuries that would cripple or kill other species with shock - We've got redundant organs, and emergency chemical responses that turn off the limits of our muscles so we can trade massive damage for survival... or not feel pain."

EVA 43 frowned and thought about that, then nodded and ticked off a couple of fingers, "And we can stop breathing for a couple of minutes, consume our own body mass if there's no food, keep moving for longer than almost any other starfaring species...."

Phlanages picked up, "And then pack bond with nearly any organism or object, so instead of getting obliterated by everyone else because we met you guys and reached for a recipe book..."

EVA 43 added "... we can eat a stupid range of food including what a lot of other species consider poisonous chemicals..." to the list.

Phalanges continued cheerfully, "... so you guys were like 'Oh crap, no wait, these dumb monsters are friendly. Maybe they'll pick stuff up and carry it for us.'"

"And do human related stuff." EVA 43 added.

Daver held up both her small hands, the one on her second set of arms. "OK, and it helps you have this really weird flexible language and you're just right in the middle of the audio and visual range almost everyone uses." she added drumming her big claws on the table, which Cat Fantastic mimicked.

"Yeah."

"Squeap." said Dave, making a pity comment in her normal, near ultrasound dialect of Southern Tstktk Tsin. "I do enjoy these weird little culture discussions. But I feel like I'm letting the side down because people keep calling me for space orc stuff."

Phalanges, mouth full of purple breadroll shrugged and gave EVA 43 a look.

43 leaned back and pondered. "OK well... look, it's going to be mostly Atrix calling, right? Humans don't need another human unless it's a specific uh..."

"Phkil" mumbled Phalanges.

"Bingo. And there's just not many Tsin doing work that needs a human. They're mostly in Med or admin where the gravity is safest."

Dave nodded again getting an idea of where this was going.

"So it's Atrix. Therefore..." said 43...

"... you just need to figure out what you can do that they can't." finished Phalanges, "And do it in the most flamboyant way possible."

---

Mothers Pride, looked down at Dave, having requested them to the bowels of the station - An area that really was the bowels as it dealt with the processing and containment of the sanitation system. Which means exactly what you think.

Actually, this was part of Dave's area of expertise, as they were a certified life support specialist like Phalanges. She had the horrifying stains on her jumpsuit to prove it.

"Oh we, er thought you were going to be a human." said Mothers Pride in very formal Tsin.

Two smaller Atrix peered around her, doing complex colour patterns with their faces.

"Well... I am for tax reasons." said Dave. "Is this anything to do with the overheating steriliser?" she asked in her natural colloquial yokel manner.

"How...? Yes, yes, it's in an awkward place and we can't get in because of the heat and the close quarters." Pride said giving Dave a peachy-green look.

"Ah, oh that's no problem. Just let me take a listen... hmmm... OK the circulator pump's not running fast enough..." she said and put her claw tips on the piping, "... yeah feel that, the vibration's about half what you would expect." she said.

The three Atrix simultaneously looked at their tablets where the diagnostics were telling them something similar, at length with less detail.

Then she paused, ears swivelling, making a high clicking sound that made the Atrix twitch minutely flush orange with each ultrasonic burst, and carefully added, "Ah you might want to step back", and rapidly knocked on the pipe as she stepped into the accessway - Too tight for an Atrix. OK for one of the slim wiggly humans, fine for the short and stocky Tsin. There was a startling gurgle and a thrumming vibration: The impellor picking up started pumping the horrible gunk through the system - the increased flow taking the building heat from the pasteurisation unit with it.

Then she shuffled back out with some new trophy stains on her overalls, flicked her ears once and said "Nice working with you, Pride." and ambled back down the corridor.

Mothers Pride and her two interns watched, astounded. They stared at each other, flickering colours on their cheeks and foreheads, amazed.

Dave, who's vision was at the other end of the spectrum to Atrix vision, and who'd been able to see the infrared coming off the machinery as a grainy glow, and who's vocalisations and hearing were good enough to do a little fuzzy ultrasound, had detected the mass choking the pipe (And gotten lucky that strategic knocking had make it move) got all the way around the bend before allowing herself some excited squeaps.

After all, she was a Space Orc now.

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Chapter Fourteen: Amortentia

Sirius and Penny seemed to have fallen into a routine without even trying to, having breakfast together each morning before Penny would go to work and Sirius would busy himself in her study. It had only taken a couple of days after they had placed the order for the ingredients to arrive by owl, which had intrigued Penny immensely. She had asked so many more questions, some of which he’d had trouble coming up with an answer. If she were a witch, he would expect her to be an author or historian of some kind, writing the books that would be studied in wizarding schools all over the world. Then again, if she were a witch, she likely would have very little interest in a wizard like him. Apart from being an escaped felon, he had always been a bit of a prat despite the war having reigned them all in from their schoolboy days. While he gallivanted throughout Britain, picking fights with Death Eaters and all but asking for danger, she would be playing it smart, hiding in plain sight while noting all the major happenings for a future history book.

She might not even know his name. Or perhaps she would, but his reputation would no doubt precede him.

Waiting for the ashwinder egg to dissolve, Sirius peeled a rose stem and gently placed the shavings into his brew before he cut each of the petals into quarters and stirred anticlockwise. From the corner of his eye, Penny walked past him, glancing into the kitchen where he was working.

“I still can’t believe owls know exactly where to go even without an address,” she said, going to the coffee table to set down her thick binder. He recognized it as the one that held her dissertation. “How do you guys even train them to do that?”

He smiled to himself; her curiosity was intoxicating, a bit like James’ was back when they were students. It made Sirius want to indulge her every whim just to watch her inquisitiveness take hold of her.

“There are trainers who do it for a living. They normally keep an owlery where they raise and train Owlets until they’re grown enough to either be sold to a wizard or sent to an owl post,” Sirius replied.

“And all they need is a name?”

“That’s right.”

She hummed thoughtfully, slowly taking a few steps toward him. “Do you really think a love potion is gonna work?”

“Trust me,” Sirius replied, adding the rose petals one quarter at a time until the brew was a pale magenta.

If his calculations were correct, he should be able to infuse the solution he was currently brewing into a hefty piece of chocolate that would lure Wormtail out of the castle, and to the Shrieking Shack. But he needed to get the brew perfect before he added the scents from Peter’s amortentia.

“Besides, this isn’t quite a love potion per se. It has most of the same ingredients, but once I add fresh mint, watermelon and bathe it in the summer sun, it should act more as an attraction potion,” he said.

“What’s the difference?”

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Sirius answered, “Well, for one, it should only work on Peter instead of the first person to stumble upon it. And two, it won’t make him fall in love, just draw him out to where I want him.”

“Well, that’s good,” she replied. “Especially considering that you’ll be at a school.”

“Mhm,” Sirius hummed, the majority of his attention was on crushing Moonstone into a fine dust.

“Wow,” Penny whispered as she stepped closer to him. “That’s so beautiful. What is that?”

“Moonstone,” he answered. “Some people call it the wishing stone.”

“Wishing stone?”

“It has conjuration properties.”

A smile formed on her lips. “Can you really wish on it?”

Snorting softly to himself, he shook his head and measured just enough Moonstone to activate the potion he was brewing. Carefully, he opened the pot he was using in place of a cauldron and dropped the shimmering powder into the pot. As the misty, lavender smoke began to rise from the boiling brew, Penny leaned forward to have a look at what was in the pot. Had he anticipated that she would do so, he would have warned her to be careful of inhaling the smoke. While she wouldn’t be completely under the influence of the potion just from a whiff, she would undoubtedly be pulled under the seduction of its scent, and likely cause her inhibitions to be lowered, at least for a few moments.

Her eyes drifted shut in a slow blink and she stumbled back as he quickly clapped the lid back onto the pot.

“Oh wow,” she exhaled.

“Yeah, sorry, I should’ve warned you, it —”

His words died when he turned toward her only to find that she’d all but closed the space between them in a single step. Her hands slid over his chest as she looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes at half mast. Sirius froze in place, his breathing deep and slow as his hands subconsciously went to her waist. The smell of maplewood and peaches overwhelmed him, pulling him under a different sort of spell and making something primal stir in the pit of his stomach. A rush of air left his parted lips as her nose grazed against his, her face tilting up to inch her lips closer.

With every ounce of strength he could gather inside him, he gently pushed her away, one hand coming to cup her face.

“Penny,” he mumbled, his forehead leaning against hers. Fighting the urge to taste her lips, Sirius swallowed thickly, his heart pounding in his ears so loud that he swore she could hear it as well.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.

“That’s alright.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” she repeated, a bit louder as one hand came up to cover her face. She took a step back from him, her other hand coming up to join the first, leaving two icy spots on his chest that shocked him enough to pull him out of her spell.

“It’s alright, it was just the potion,” he reasoned, though whether he was reassuring her or himself, he couldn’t say. “You must’ve inhaled some of the smoke. It should fade after a moment.”

“That’s… really strong,” she said as her hands lowered, fingers lingering against her lips. “How are you going to keep other people from inhaling it and wanting to make out with you.”

Sirius bobbed one shoulder as the corner of his lips curled up, his hands gently pulling away from her. “I still haven’t added the scents that will draw him out and, then I’ll need to add a bit of him into it.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answered. “Haven’t exactly thought that far.” Sighing heavily, he began to brainstorm out loud. “He’ll likely be staying in the dorms with his wizard, so I’ll have to sneak into the castle.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Like, oh! Could I pretend to be, like, an inspector? Or maybe a new teacher, looking for a job? Oh! Or, or, I could say I’m looking for an intern for an expedition!”

Sirius couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “As much as I could use your help, it’s far too risky, even for me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that although I am more than willing to take some risks… I could never forgive myself if anything ever happened to you, including having your memory altered,” he answered.

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” she replied. “I mean, I was able to go into that owl place —”

“That was different,” Sirius replied.

“How?”

“Albus Dumbledore wasn’t at the owlery,” he said.

“What?”

Sirius snorted softly. “He’s the most powerful wizard alive, and all he would need is to have one look at you to know you aren’t a witch.”

“What, is he half goblin or something?”

Sirius could ‘t help the barking laughter that burst out of him. “No, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I suspect rather skilled at Legilimency.”

“What’s that?”

“He can read your mind,” he replied.

“Whoa, really?” she asked, the twinkle of fascination coming back to her eyes. “Can you do that?”

“Not exactly, but… in a way,” Sirius answered, lowering the temperature to a simmer. “I have a dog’s nose. Though in my case, I can’t so much smell thoughts as I can feelings. Intentions, things like that. It’s how I knew you meant me no harm when I first woke up here. That, and I can smell magic.”

“You can smell magic?”

“Mhm.”

“What does it smell like?” she asked.

He thought about his answer for a moment, absently licking his lips. “Sweet mostly, but also a bit salty… like an ocean breeze at sunset. And a hint of spice that hits you like crackles of lightning.”

“What do I smell like?” she asked with a smile.

A burst of goosebumps appeared on his arms as he looked back at her. “Fresh cut timber. Light rain, with a sweet undertone.”

Her smile widened, clearly satisfied with his answer. “Good to know I smell awesome.”

“Oh, you smell…” Delicious. Divine. Intoxicating. He could say none of those words. There was a pull in his hips as he allowed himself to get lost in the thought of her scent, his eyelids falling slightly as a shiver ran over his arms. Clearing his throat, he pushed the thoughts away and forced a smile at her. “Awesome, yes.”

Blinking at him, she bit her bottom lip. “I should start getting ready for my shift tonight.”

Sirius frowned, turning his attention back to cleaning up what was on the counter as she walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. Her working the night shift meant that he was on his own for supper. She had only worked one other night shift since he had been staying with her, but still, he preferred when she worked during the day. At least then, they could eat together and watch another film.

His tongue came out to lick over his bottom lip, eyes closing as he remembered how close they’d just been to kissing. His skin erupted in goosebumps as a hum buzzed in his throat and a tug in his belly brought a shiver down his spine. He had to reign himself in, especially since he would be leaving in just over a week’s time.

When she came back into the sitting room, she was wearing a long, flowy pale blue dress that hung down to her mid calves. Her hair was swept back into a ponytail and there was a soft red hue on her lips. Subconsciously, his tongue came out again, this time to glide over his top lip as a curiosity of what she would taste like gnawed at the back of his mind.

“There’s some ham and cheese in the fridge, and I think a couple cans of tuna in the pantry for when you get hungry.”

“I miss you when you work nights.” He tried to make it sound as casual as he possibly could, looking away from her.

Still, he could hear the smile in her voice when she answered, “I miss you too. I really like watching movies with you.”

“So do I,” he said, a smile coming to his own face as he placed a hand on the lid before looking back at her. “I have to put this into a flask.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He arched a brow when she didn’t move an inch. “That means I’m going to open it again.”

“Oh, right,” Penny replied, taking another step back from him and the pot. “Sorry.”

“Quite alright,” he said, pulling open the lid and ignoring the urges stirring inside him when the smoke wafted beneath his nose.

“You know, you should think about testing it before trying to use it on Peter,” she said as he transfigured the burlap that the ingredients had been delivered in into a glass vial with a stopper.

Sirius arched a brow, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder, unable to suppress a smirk.

“I’m just saying, it’s not a bad idea to be absolutely certain it works,” she said with a bob of her shoulders, apparently trying to seem indifferent.

He carefully poured the solution into the vial, putting the stopper on and setting it to the side. He waved his wand over the pot, cleaning it in an instant before he looked back at her. “Perhaps. Suppose I could use the opportunity to workshop how I’ll be able to actually use it and not be caught.”

Penny smiled in what seemed to be self-satisfaction. “Exactly.”

“But offering yourself up as a test subject isn’t the wisest either. You were affected just from the smell —”

“You won’t take advantage of that,” she replied softly, shaking her head. “I trust you.”

Sirius nodded as though to agree, even when he knew how difficult it would be to not give in to her advances. It was a miracle he was able to resist her the first time.

“I gotta go,” she said regretfully, picking up her keys and handbag. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he answered before he could think better of it.

He relished in the pink hue that colored her cheeks as she walked to the door, giving him a little wave as she stepped through it.

Letting out a breath, Sirius turned back to the vial. He would need to keep it in a cool, dark, dry place overnight before he could infuse it into chocolate, and began to scan his eyes around the kitchen, searching for such a spot. If he decided to test it, he would need an extra day to be sure he could have another batch ready for Wormtail. And it wouldn’t hurt, either, to have a plan for where he would sleep. It seemed almost certain that Dementors would be roaming around Hogsmeade, so that was out. Staying near the castle seemed just as foolish. That left the Shrieking Shack or the Forbidden Forest, the former of which would no doubt be more comfortable for him, assuming there was still a bed in it.

Unless there had been another werewolf pup admitted into Hogwarts, it was unlikely to be in use. He would be safe there, and close to Harry. Or close enough at any rate.

Waiting for Penny to come home was torture if he didn’t occupy himself with some sort of task, but with little left to do with respect to his plan to draw Wormtail out, Sirius decided to make dinner for both of them. She would no doubt be expecting him to fix himself something to eat around the usual time they would have their supper. But he wanted to do something for her, anything to repay her kindness. And so, Sirius found himself looking through her fridge and pantry for something to make.

He’d never been one for cooking — of the four of them, Remus had been the only one who seemed to enjoy it — but he did know one recipe by heart; Shepherd's Pie. He’d learned it thanks to a bet he’d made with James in their seventh year. Luckily he hadn’t forgotten it over the years, though he found himself having to improvise a bit when he realized that Penny didn’t have all the necessary ingredients. In the end, he made it work, and had it in the oven by the time Penny came through the door.

“Hello,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder as he used the wand to wash the used dishes and wipe down the counters.

“What are you doing?” she asked, setting her bag and keys down. “Not another brew? What happened to the first one?”

“Oh no, I found a perfect place for that first batch I brewed. It needs to sit overnight,” he replied. “I’m just cleaning up. I’ve made supper.”

Penny was silent for a moment before she said, “Oh!” He finished cleaning up his work area and turned to face her as she came to stand in the doorframe of her kitchen, glancing around before she asked, “What’d you make?”

“Shepherd's Pie, although you didn’t have lamb or peas so I instead used ground beef and green beans,” he answered, his brows furrowing as he cast his eyes to one side. “Which I suppose would technically make it a Cottage Pie.”

She beamed. “You cooked for me?”

Blinking as he shifted his eyes back to her, he nodded once. “I did. Let’s just hope I remembered the bake time correctly.”

She chuckled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, I wanted to,” he answered.

Penny’s smile widened as she gently swallowed. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“Of course,” Sirius answered, gesturing to the oven with his head. “That won’t be ready for at least another few minutes.”

“Perfect,” she replied, looking at him a moment longer before she made her way down the hall.

He couldn’t help but note how domestic it all felt — cooking supper for the two of them so that it would be ready when she got home from working at the library. He never imagined himself settling down with anyone at all, nor did he ever imagine that he would want to. And for a brief moment he allowed himself to imagine a scenario where after the war, he would be proven innocent and set free, and he could spend the rest of his life hoping she would break her no dating rule for him. But it was only a fantasy, and rightly lasted all of a few seconds before reality came crashing down. Even if they won the war, it was much more likely that he would be returned to Azkaban. The Minister would likely take pity only in sparing him from the Kiss. But his pride would never allow for Sirius to go free.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he went about getting some bowls and forks out and bringing them to the coffee table. He got a trivet and placed that on the coffee table as well, beside her binder. He didn’t dare look up when the bathroom door opened, allowing her fresh, sweet scent to drift out. By the time she closed the door to her bedroom, his heart was pounding in his chest as he thought about her wrapped in a towel, water dripping from her still damp hair.

A loud, steady beep sounded from the oven, and Sirius blinked several times before he went to fetch the finished pie. Grinning to himself as he pulled it out, he silently wished Remus were there to tell him how lovely it looked. Then another thought came to him; with the full moon approaching the following week, where was his friend going to be staying? Sirius doubted very much that Dumbledore still allowed him the use of the Shrieking Shack, and considering the general population's stance on werewolves, he thought it equally unlikely that Remus had a home of his own that he could lock himself inside.

Still, knowing his friend, Remus would no doubt have a plan for where to stash himself for the full, and that somehow made Sirius feel worse. In their sixth year, they had formed a pact to never let Remus suffer another full moon alone again. Of course, the war had seen fit to make sure they wouldn’t be able to keep that vow, starting with Remus being sent off on secret missions, always curiously close to when the full moon was approaching.

“That smells great!” Penny’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and Sirius smiled at her, picking up the pan.

“Help yourself,” he said, bringing the pan to the coffee table and setting it on the trivet he had set there. “Be careful, I just took it out. It’s hot.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling out a spatula from the drawer beside the oven and going to join him at the coffee table. She picked up her binder and moved it over to the end table, in front of the telephone.

“Do you have more to do with that?” he asked, gesturing to the binder.

“Oh, I’m defending my dissertation tomorrow,” she answered.

He smiled thankfully when she served him first instead of herself. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” she answered unassuredly, serving herself some of the cottage pie before she went back into the kitchen to grab two glasses of lemonade.

Sirius waited until she came back into the sitting room. “Maybe a little?”

Bobbing her shoulders, Penny sat down beside him. “A little.”

He waited a bit longer, not moving to begin eating just yet.

“Okay, I’m freaking out,” she replied with a sigh as she turned toward him slightly. “I know I shouldn’t be, I mean I know this dissertation forwards and backwards. But what if I mess up? I mean what if they ask me something that I don’t have an answer for?”

“I think you’ll do wonderfully. It’s like you said, you know your own work, forward and backwards —”

“Yeah, but you saw me when I was under pressure, I ramble, I’m insecure, I’m —”

“Brilliant, Penny,” he said. “You’re brilliant. You picked up a big strange dog, by yourself, and brought him home to nurse him back to health. You were the one who gave me the idea to use chocolate to lure Peter out.”

“We still don’t know if it’s gonna work,” she mumbled.

“It will,” he replied. “You thought you wouldn’t be able to go into the owl post and send for that list of ingredients, but you did. You’re going to be great. Don’t overthink it.”

The corner of her lips curled up slightly, but she still looked a bit unsure.

“Would it help if Padfoot went with you?” he asked. “Just for a bit of moral support?”

She smiled at him in earnest then. “You would really come?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, that would be great, actually,” she answered. “Oh!” Her smile suddenly fell away, her eyes widening. “I almost forgot,” she said, turning to rummage in her handbag still on the corner of the sofa. “I stopped by Blockbuster on my way home…” She turned back to him, holding up a tape in a blue and white case. “Return of the Jedi.”

A slow smirk formed on his parted lips. “Oh yes.”

She chuckled and stood, going over to the VCR to put in the tape and turn on the TV.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?” he asked as she plopped down next to him and started to look for the remote.

“Well, you said you could use some help when you go to…” She paused, her eyes moving up to the ceiling as though trying to find a specific word. “Hogwarts?”

“Yes, Hogwarts,” he answered.

“Okay, so… I know you said it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask your friend, Remus for help —”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” Sirius answered with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, but you forgot one thing,” she said as she paused her search for the remote again to look at him. “You have someone to vouch for you now.”

“Who?”

Her smile vanished from her lips. “Me. I can vouch for you. I can tell him that you’re innocent and that your friend, Peter, is a rat.”

He smiled softly at her. “That’s a sweet gesture, but I don’t think it will work.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, Remus doesn’t know who you are. Secondly, he’s more likely to believe that I used the Imperius curse or otherwise forced you through magic to contact him on my behalf,” he said.

“It’s worth a try, Sirius. You can’t do this alone,” she replied softly.

“I can’t risk him warning Dumbledore or worse, the Ministry.”

Penny frowned. “He was your friend. You don’t think he would at least give you a chance to explain if you asked?”

Sirius moved some food around in his bowl, inhaling deeply. “I doubt that very much.”

His instinct told him that Remus would show far more consideration than that for a man who was, in fact, once one of his best friends, but Harry’s life depended on Sirius’ success. It was simply far too great a risk to take when Harry was in danger.

“I think you’re wrong,” Penny said, resuming her search for the remote.

He said nothing as her hand began to wedge between the cushions, including the one he was sitting on. Her body heat hovered over his shoulder, and he swallowed thickly, trying to ignore it. Finally, she found the remote on the other side of him, and reached for it, pressing herself against his shoulder. He turned his head toward her, his eyes subconsciously falling on her lips again.

Perhaps just one kiss would be alright. It wasn’t as though she didn’t already know he would be leaving soon. And her lips just looked so bloody inviting. Slowly closing his eyes, he inched his way closer, his nose grazing hers just before cool air hit his face.

“You should think about it,” she said, quickly sitting straight up again and turning on the movie, their moment over. She began to gather some of the cottage pie on her fork. “It wouldn’t hurt to have someone else on your side who might be able to help.”

Letting out a breath, Sirius turned his eyes to his bowl, taking a deep, silent breath. He couldn’t help but hope that she was right, but he still wasn’t willing to risk it. At least not yet. Maybe after he exposed Peter as still being alive, Remus would be more willing to listen, but not before. Apart from the uncertainty that Moony would even listen to what he had to say, it would just be too much to ask of him.

[goodgirlofglory]

Silver fox and the Captain - Chapter 7 (finale)

Chapter 6 - /Masterpost/

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,3k

Warnings: Explicit content, explicit language, explicit sexual content, SMUT, ANGST, FLUFF (the whole shabang), angsty feelings of being unworthy and undeserving, oral (m receiving).

Summary: Standing at a cross-roads, will you dare reach out and accept the love and security you do not think yourself worthy off, but is offered to you either way?

Note: This is kinda weird, this last chapter has just been sitting finished in my google docs for MONTHS while I stupidly thought it was just a first draft still. So, I could have finished this series a long time ago, but ey, better late than never, right?

This series is such a fun, little darling for me. Thank you so much for reading🦋

They were offering you a job. With S.H.I.E.L.D. With the Avengers! Not as a team member, per se, God knew you were no superhero. But as a member of the accompanying S.H.I.E.L.D units that worked around the Avengers on smaller and larger missions. 

“I could use someone with your skills of stealth and theft out in the field, to gather intel while the flashy guys do their thing,” Fury had said, that proud smirk back on his lips. 

Black Widow had snorted at Fury’s last comment, and you had felt Hawkeye’s eye roll from across the table. 

Fury had laid the offer on the table - an honestly astounding salary, your own quarters in the compound and some standard access to tech and equipment, on level with a tier one S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Then, he had asked you to think about it before he left the room with a swivel of his leather coat and that had been that. The room had immediately cleared of everyone except you, Steve and a few of the Avengers. 

Black Widow had approached you where you sat shell shocked, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. 

“Silver Fox,” she had greeted you. 

“Black Widow,” you had answered, your voice a mere croak. 

“Call me Natasha,” she said, giving Steve a wink before departing the room. 

You now paced back and forth in Steve’s room, mind rambling. Steve sat patiently on the edge of his bed, eyes tracking your movement, brows drawn slightly down in that concerned expression you still struggled to believe was genuine.

“I just don’t get it,” you said for probably the fifteenth time, “why would he do this? Why offer me this job?” you said incredulously. 

“He told you; he could use someone with your skills,” Steve said patiently, like he’d said all the last times you’d asked. 

“Yeah, but how could he possibly trust me? How could any of you trust me?” you asked and you knew you were lashing out, your tone loud and accusing.

Steve remained calm where he sat, forever the perfect rock for you. Fury’s comment about stealing hearts rushed to the front of your mind, and you felt your cheeks heat. Steve raised himself off the bed and came up to you, warm, broad figure looming over you, cupping your face in his hand. 

“I trust you. Fury trusts my judgment. Do I have any reason to doubt my judgment?” he asked, soft like a lover’s murmur. 

You wanted to blindly protest. No, he had no reason to doubt his judgment, you wanted to believe that as much as him. But there was this incessant voice in your head needling you. Was it true? Could you really measure up to these people? Could you do the switch from morally gray mouse scampering about in the shaddows to a good, team playing member of fucking S.H.I.E.L.D? You wanted it, God did you want it. But… some part deep down whispered that you were delusional. This world, this shining, good and kind world, Steve’s world - it wasn’t for the likes of you. You didn’t belong here, and you didn’t deserve their regard - didn’t deserve Steve. 

“What would happen if I said no? To the job?” you asked instead of answering Steve’s question, looking up into his breath taking baby blue eyes, saw how the pupils expanded as you looked into them, how reverently he looked at you. Like you could ever deserve to be looked upon so lovingly. 

He sighed, pondering your question for a bit, his brows dipping down in the most adorable frown that had your heart clenching. You regretted the question only because it made him look anything other than happy, content or immensely pleasured. For the barest of moments your fingers itched to tear his clothes off and swallow his dick, just to put his mind on other things. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. It’s hard to erase the past. And while there is literally no public dirt on your name, hell, it doesn’t even show up in any database we have -”

“I’m really good,” you interrupted. 

He huffed, fondly exasperated by your cockiness as always.

“Yes - but S.H.I.E.L.D knows. Fury knows… I know,” he said. 

And there it was. Though you had been a ghost for most of your life, even ghosts have baggage from lives lived. No public government or organization had any claim to have you persecuted, but S.H.I.E.L.D had. They knew enough, knew all they had to to take you down - and rightfully so from their point of view. Steve knew it all. You’d spilled everything to him in between the sheets during the last month, a proverbial word vomit that had left you trembling with the relief and the foundation-rocking vulnerability of laying your life and soul bare like that. Steve, the literal angel, had taken it all, wrapped you in his protective warmth and murmured soothing words of comfort and forgiveness each time until you felt shaky for whole new reasons. 

You were shaking slightly now, hearing from his lips that your past might have unavoidable consequences no matter how much he personally forgave you. You knew this of course, had always known you would be toast the minute someone got their hands on you. Hell, you were supposed to be dead now, if Steve hadn't intervened…

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his broad chest, propping his chin on the top of your head, rocking from side to side. 

“I tried to convince Fury to let you into a victim protection program. Get you a nice home and job here in the states, let you live a normal life. But he wasn’t entirely convinced. Told me letting you out of your sight now would be stupid. Keep your friends close -”

“-But your enemies closer,” you finished around a lump in your throat. 

He pulled away so he could look into your eyes again. 

“I like to think you’re a friend in this scenario. Selfishly, I would also like to have you close, preferably only as far as down the hall,” he said, stroking a thumb over your jaw. 

“So?” you pressed, needing to know what Fury would do if you said no to the job. 

“So…maybe prison. Maybe some intel exchange with the US government, let them take you. Though that will be over my dead body, fox,” Steve said, and the fierceness with which he said that last part made you believe him. 

The guilt that followed was gut wrenching. The responsibility Steve felt over you left him careless for his own self preservation. Could you trust yourself not to drag him into your unforgivable messes? Could you escape your past and baggage, and not let it unfairly bleed over into Steve’s life?

Distracting yourself from that question, you lifted up on your toes and kissed him, opening your mouth to his tongue.

“Fury will want his answer pretty soon,” Steve murmured against your lips after another kiss that had your hands clinging to his shirt.

He saw your smirk and had already started to shake his head slightly before you spoke, though he was smiling. 

“Then let’s make him wait,” you murmured, your smile matching the one Steve reluctantly let spread on his own lips, though he tried to look reproachful. Adorable. 

You sucked him off on the couch that night. He looked powerful where he sat reclined, his bulged thighs spread wide - virile and strong, potent and capable. From your position on your knees between his legs, he loomed like a mountain, able to snap you like a twig with the barest of effort. All of that made the sounds you pulled from him that much sweeter. 

You suckled noisily on his heavy ballsack, lathering it lovingly with spit before sucking it into your mouth, and Steve’s cock bobbed where it lay on your face. Small “ah” - sounds escaped him, so soft compared to the commanding tones that usually came from him. It made your pussy throb. 

Pulling back, you took his cock in your hand. The tip shone with precum. You stuck your tongue out, flicked it on his frenulum and was rewarded with another glob of leakage oozing from his tip and into your mouth. He moaned above you, one of his hands making its way into your hair. 

“Fuck, f-fox, oh,” he gritted out as you sank your mouth on his length, working the part you couldn’t fit with your hand. 

Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them on your fingers, letting your fingertips dip even lower. He moaned hoarsely, and you saw in your periphery that the couch cushion was dangerously close to ripping with the way he was fisting it. 

You slobbered on, basking in the sloppy, wet slide of saliva and precum, the hot weight of Steve’s cock on your tongue, the twitches of it as you hollowed your cheek on the upslide. He slid from your mouth with a small, wet pop. 

“I want your cum in my mouth,” you said as you mouthed down his shaft, looking up at his scrunched up face. 

“God,” Steve moaned, throwing his head back, his cock throbbing in your grasp. You were still rolling his balls in your hand. He was really sensitive there, you’d had the pleasure of discovering. 

“Will you give it to me?” you asked as you mouthed your way up to the head again, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. 

He looked back down at you, and you could feel him straining to keep in place, thigh muscles bulging trying to keep his hips from pistoning up, seeking the heat of your mouth again.

“A-anything,” he panted, his hand stroking through your hair as you gave him your undivided attention, savoring it. 

“Good,” you sighed with pleasure around his cock. Steve’s hair was a mess of tousled, blond tufts, there was sweat on his brows and his chest heaved under his unbuttoned shirt. His brows had that furrowed look, and color sat high on his cheeks. Your panties had to be ruined by now.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured against the head of his cock, still kissing it wetly, and another spit of precum drooled from the tip, wetting your lips further. He put his other hand through his own hair and laughed a bit incredulously, helplessly, as you sank onto his cock again, working up a rhythm that would bring him to the brink.

The thrill of having him at your mercy like this was intoxicating. Pleasuring him was intoxicating. Being allowed to see him in these private moments of intimacy was intoxicating, addictive in a way you felt powerless to resist. You wanted to be on your knees for him forever. If only you could. 

The sound of the couch cushion being shred open under Steve’s grip alerted you a split second before your mouth was flooded with his essence, salty and sticky on your tongue. You eased him through his orgasm with your mouth, eagerly swallowing everything he gave you while his huge form trembled on the couch, his soft moans turning into even softer whimpers. You could feel your heartstrings going taut, your blood rushing to pool hot and tender in your chest. 

Later, when he had paid you back seven or eight times for the orgasm on the couch, you rose sticky and sweaty from the bed to wash off before going to sleep, already missing his warmth as you tiptoed to the en suite bathroom. 

Washing your hands after a quick rub down with a warm cloth, you found your own eyes in the mirror. You froze like a deer caught in the headlights. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Standing there, covered in your own and Steve’s dried and drying love fluids, plump from a month of leisure, hair clean but messy from an afternoon in bed, eyes filled with a childish amount of giddy hope. You suddenly felt foolish. 

This isn’t for you. 

…

You stepped quietly back into the room. Steve was facing away from you, his head a messy, blond mop on the pillow. You knew he would reach for you once you dipped under the covers - that, whether asleep or not, he would reach until he found you, pull you into him and curl around you like a cocoon. 

You dressed in utter silence, your instincts and stealth thankfully not discernibly dulled by a month of lazing about. You fished your readily packed bag from the air vent in the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom to slip out the window, going over the route in your head. Your bones itched to get it over with, though your heart was heavy like lead in your chest. You wondered when you’d get a full night’s sleep again…

“That’s it, then?” you heard behind you as you perched on the window sill, about to crack open the window to let in the chill, night air. 

Fuck

You steeled your expression and turned to find Steve, naked, sitting on the edge of the bed. His expression was so carefully neutral, it almost looked like a mask. 

You said nothing. Didn’t know what to say. Maybe saying nothing would help him let you go. Maybe it could hurt him enough to sever the bond between you. Something deep in your chest surged at that thought, clawing up your throat, screaming no, no, no…

“You don’t have to. It’s not too late,” Steve said then, and damn him for giving you a way out even now, when you so obviously were in the act of betraying him. Damn him and his forgiveness, his too good for his own good heart that you didn’t deserve. “I didn’t want to believe it, but you’ve been thinking about it all night, haven’t you?”

That surprised you. 

“How did you know?” you asked, going over every detail of that night, everything you said, any time you could have slipped. 

He huffed a laugh that wasn’t entirely not fond. 

“I can pretty much sense it by now. When you’re gearing up to bolt. Have experienced it enough times, that shift in the air, how your mind slips to the proverbial horizon,” he said. 

You felt your heart helplessly tug at that. Never had you felt guilty for how your actions affected others. It came with the job, that emotional numbness, the walls. But with Steve, your entire foundation threatened to crumble at his feet. You didn’t want to hurt him. Other than that, you were scared of the pain you yourself would feel at being separated from him. 

Steve sighed heavily, a slight tremor in the exhale of air. 

“I guess, if this is what you need to do, then I can’t force you to stay,” he said, and in that moment, it was as if everything but the two of you shrank away. He wasn’t talking about S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers, or the job offer, or your past, or the two completely different worlds you came from. In that moment, it was Steve, just a man, and you, just a woman, and you were leaving him. Abandoning him. 

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t him. It was you, and how much you didn’t deserve him, and how he needed to see that. You wanted to ask him how he meant to explain this fortune? How such a salvation as this could just present itself to you with no hindrance after everything that had come before it? You wanted to cry, but you had forfeited such weaknesses now. Just like you were forfeiting love.

You turned, cracked the window open, and smelled the crispy, night air ripe with summer. 

“I know who I fell in love with,” Steve murmured behind you. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed at all. You were suddenly glad you had your back turned to him, for you had no control over the way your eyes widened, nor how your heartbeat kicked into hard gear. In love. Another beat of silence. He was waiting for you to answer him. You didn’t, as unfair and cruel as it was to him. “You’re always welcome back to me, fox,” he said then, and you amazed even yourself with how you managed to slip out the window then, feet sure and silent as they padded across the roof. 

There was a cacophony of noise in your head. Voices screaming to go back, to tackle Steve and kiss him, to suck his soul out of his dick and never let him leave your bed. Voices that wailed in grief and told you to fling yourself from the roof before your heart fell out of your chest. Voices that screamed how unworthy you were of his love and if he wouldn’t see that, you would have to deny him. You scrambled your will to shut them all up, and channeled all your focus and determination to the task at hand; get out of the S.H.I.E.L.D compound undetected. You told yourself you could cry then, well knowing that the moment you crossed off the base and into the US wilderness, you would probably never know a moment’s peace for the rest of your life. No matter, you could carve your heart out and leave it in the ground later. Now you needed to move. 

Deftly, you slipped from shadow to shadow, making your way across the vast building that was the compound. Your feet grew heavier the longer away from your room and from Steve your feet took you. Your breath rattled in your chest, disturbed not from the running, but from how off you felt. Off kilter, off balance, it all felt wrong. But you had to do this. Had to prove to yourself you could escape, that you could do it. 

You swallowed painfully and climbed down the building in steady leaps, lowering yourself the last way with the rope from your bag, carefully moving within the blind spot of the security cameras on the north west corner of the office part of the building, where no one would be this time of night anyway. 

Trekking over the large, green area was the most risky part of the route, but with steady routes from bushes to larger groups of trees. No flood lights, no alarm, no guards with guns. You reached the fence lining the entire base, and got out the wire cutter you’d snagged from maintenance and began making a large enough hole to crawl out. 

In quite a bit of disbelief, you came out on the other side of the fence and started running immediately. With only a small flashlight and the moon in the sky in front of you, you stumbled through the thick forest surrounding the base, your breath the only sound in the night. 

At last, the trees opened to a clearing, and you halted, slowing, slowing, slowing until you stood completely still, staring ahead. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, though you were barely winded. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Your body was all wrong, seemed to squirm, your nerves moving this way and that, protesting where you were, what you were doing. 

I know, I know, you thought to yourself. I don’t want to leave, either. But…but…

But what… 

But what?!

You stared ahead, blindly. 

But. What?

What was the reason for leaving? 

In love. 

The world grinded to a halt for a long moment.

You turned on your heel and started walking. Your walk turned into a run. The moon at your back, back through the trees. You climbed back in through the fence and used the tongs to fit the piece you’d cut out haphazardly back in place. You made a mental note to come back and secure it better soon. Moving back through the shadows, you found your rope on the office side of the building and climbed it to the top. Packing the rope with you, your feet carried you across the roof of the compound, the same way you’d come. Your head was completely silent, your breath steady, your feet sure, your heart a sound beat. Only when you sidled down to the window of your bedroom, did your heart pick up. It was still open, the lights still on. 45 minutes had passed maybe. 

With the same sort of instincts that had always led you in unsure situations, you slipped back into the room. 

Steve looked up from where he sat with his head in his hands, still naked on the edge of the bed. His eyes, wide with surprise, met yours dead on. They were wet. His cheeks were shiny with tears. He was crying.

“Fox?” he said, his voice but a whisper. 

The sob escaped you before you could do anything to stop it. It flew across the dead silent room, an ugly, choking sound that had you so exposed your skin crawled. You threw a hand over your mouth as if you could trap the sound after it’d left. 

Steve rose to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” you exclaimed, forcing your hand away from your mouth. “I’m so sorry,” you said again, and now there were tears in your eyes. There was no point in trying to keep them in, you knew that. 

Steve took one moment to assess you before he stormed up to you and pulled you into his arms. You pressed your face to his chest as he wrapped his arms, his strong, warm, capable, safe arms around you. Your own arms went around his torso, clinging to his back, shaking. 

“I was scared, and stupid. I act so stupid when I’m scared, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I came right back when I understood how stupid I was acting, please, I’m -” you rambled in between wracking sobs, speaking into Steve’s sternum, your tears smudging on his skin. 

He shushed you quietly, rocking you back and forth softly. “It’s okay, little fox, I understand,” he said, kissing your hair as you sobbed on. He shuffled backwards, dragging you along a bit crookedly before the back of his knees hit the mattress. He toppled back with you clutched in his arms and you fell onto the mattress that still smelled faintly of your mingled scents from earlier that night. 

You lay there for a long while before your breathing evened out. When you at last had gathered the courage, you lifted your head from Steve’s chest and looked into his eyes. They were still a bit red rimmed, his cheeks and nose a bit splotchy red, but they shone now, with something you could only discern as happiness. The guilt flushed your system anew. 

“I made you cry,” you said softly, reaching up a hand to cup his face. 

He leaned into the touch and smiled just a little. 

“Yeah, but I knew you’d be back.”

That made you bristle a bit.

“What? No, you didn’t. I didn’t even know I was coming back,” you protested. 

He shrugged, jostling you a bit in the process. 

“Well, I didn’t know you’d come back so soon, but I knew I’d see you again,” he said, and he was utterly convinced. 

He’d play the long game, if he had to. Would find you and steal moments with you like before, maybe take you back to the compound to do it over again, if that would help. You saw it in his eyes, his determination. His devotion. 

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve any of this,” you mumbled, those dreaded words of truth like bile in your throat. 

Steve huffed, fondly exasperated. 

“Fox, if you don’t deserve a little bit of safety and comfort after everything you’ve lived through, who does?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but I’ve done things. Bad things. You’ve said it yourself,” you argued. 

“Y/N. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. The world isn’t black and white. There are no completely good people and no completely bad people. It took me a long time to realize that myself,” he said. 

You didn’t have an answer to that. Hadn’t really thought about it that way. You weren’t entirely convinced, but you knew one thing. This was where you wanted to be. If you looked away from deservedness and karma and social justice or even blind, stupid luck - this was where you wanted to be. And for the first time in your life, you could actually just reach out and take what you wanted. 

Steve kissed your forehead, squeezing you tighter in his arms, and you leaned into it completely helplessly. It felt like you needed his touch to breathe. 

“How far did you get?” he asked. 

“About two miles off base,” you said, closing your eyes, pressing your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. 

His breath caught for a moment. 

“Really?”

You snorted. 

“Yeah, you should work on the security in this place. Anyone could just walk in.”

He huffed, arms tightening around you again, and you could almost feel the smug pride rolling off him. 

Proud of me, you thought with that spark of giddy joy that spread molten within your chest.

“Maybe we won't tell Fury about that. I can work my way around upgrading the security,” he said and you giggled. 

There was a moment of silence, a content and peaceful silence that felt so good you wondered how you could be so stupid as to ever let this go. 

“Do you have your answer for Fury?” Steve prompted after another minute of content silence. 

You lifted your head and kissed him. Kissed him long and lingering and as sweetly as you could. 

“Well?” he prompted when you eventually broke away. 

“Nag,” you murmured against his lips. 

“Hey, I’m nothing if not persistent,” he said, smiling against your mouth before nibbling your bottom lip playfully. 

“I know,” you said, “I know who I fell in love with.”

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 1: Uniform

I will catch up after missing the first two days if it kills me. I told myself that I would write my own personal novel but I am fixated on these guys right now. Behold! More fan fiction!

Also posted on AO3 here.

☆ ☆ ☆

Kirk had been in San Francisco for six months. His time on the U.S.S. Farragut had ended, and his new ship had more time in spacedock before they would set out on their five-year mission, to explore new space and push the boundaries of Federation knowledge. And he would be there, leading the charge, as the youngest captain in Starfleet history. His father had been so proud, and his mother so worried. Sam had been… well. He had been himself, which was all he would ever be.

Kirk was worried too, if he were being honest with himself, but he was trying to remind himself of the similarities between his old and new postings instead of focusing on the differences. The U.S.S. Enterprise was the same class of ship as the Farragut. The officers’ mess would have the same ten replicators. His quarters would be different, larger, and in a different location, but the mattress and sheets and smell would be the same. The uniforms would be the same. Almost everything would be the same, except for the people and his role among them. He even had gotten to know the ship and some of the crew ahead of time, thanks to his sojourns with Captain Pike through his various misadventures. He reasoned that he could take on his new level of responsibility without too much fuss.

Four days before the U.S.S. Enterprise was scheduled to take off on her journey, his new crewmates began to arrive in San Francisco and either come say hi or introduce themselves to him. Newly promoted Lieutenant Uhura threw herself into his arms with congratulations when she returned from visiting her grandparents in Kenya. Bones arrived from Georgia a few hours afterwards, bearing moonshine and tales of Joanna’s exploits. Slowly they trickled into the city and HQ grounds, with new faces mingling with the old. Uhura positioned herself at Kirk’s side and introduced the ones she knew to him, whispering details that might be helpful to him into his ear as they departed. She knew who was secretly dating, who couldn’t work alongside each other, and who was most likely to break anything fragile. With every detail she was able to slide him, he felt a little less overwhelmed by the prospect of guiding three hundred people successfully through the black and a little more excited to get started. 

Three days before departure, a package landed on the doormat of the apartment Starfleet had furnished him with. He picked it up as he arrived back from a dinner out with Uhura and several of her Xenolinguistics friends, hefting it up into his arms as he wrangled a padd out to tap against the lock. 

Inside, he dropped it on the kitchen table, located a pair of scissors, and sliced into it. It was printed with official Starfleet logos, so it must have been something related to the mission. Inside were four sets of a new uniform, with a note on top. 

Captain Kirk, 

Congratulations on your promotion and taking command of the U.S.S. Enterprise. As your unique mission will take you beyond where finding adequate replacement uniforms will be convenient or possible, the Fabrications team has taken this opportunity to outfit the Enterprise crew with new, more durable, and more functional uniforms. 

Please let us know if you discover any issues with their construction at your earliest convenience. 

Best wishes on your journey. 

Starfleet Fabrications and Material Construction

Kirk pulled the top uniform out. The material was certainly thicker than he was used to, but it stretched in the same way, and the gold of command was a warm, cheery hue. He pulled out the matching pants and, grinning, made his way to his room to see how captaincy fit him. 

☆ ☆ ☆

It’s not that there was anything wrong with the uniforms, per se. They were comfortable, durable, and flexible. The colors were right. They fit him well. He could feel the clever measurements within them as he bent his knees and elbows experimentally, moving through his range of motion and found no areas of discomfort. 

It was just, he thought as he frowned at himself in the mirror, that they weren’t particularly flattering. He had thought, despite his best efforts to quash any public displays of vanity, that the old uniforms had helped him cut quite the striking figure. But the new uniforms had softer, less visible seams, and fewer panels. The outcome was that they were undoubtedly more useful for extended action, more difficult to rip, and likely easier to repair. 

But they also made him feel like a child again, round like only a farm boy could be, weaning play clothes that he could get dirty without upsetting his parents. 

It’s fine, he told himself. It’s not like there was a common Earth saying about “the clothes make the man.” He was not a self-conscious teenager and it didn’t matter if his clothing made him feel like a child again. They were useful for his mission. 

But that didn’t mean that he had to like them.  

☆ ☆ ☆

The uniform had not grown on him, but he was wearing it as Montgomery Scott, new chief engineer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, beamed him aboard for final review. The enthusiastic Scotsman pumped his hand and led him down into engineering. Kirk found himself buoyed from department to department by the momentum of his crew, everyone wanting a moment of his time to tell him about their experiments, or ideas, or questions for their trek. Their excitement was infectious, and (despite all of them looking like babies to him in their soft uniforms) Kirk was thrilled to see each and every one of them. 

Finally he ended up on the bridge, surrounded by his hand-picked command crew: Lieutenant Uhura on communications, the Russian baby genius Chekov for navigation, the ace pilot Sulu, Bones, who was supposed to be in Medbay but was following Kirk around with a hypo just for the hell of it, and ---

“Where is Mr. Spock, Uhura?” Kirk finally asked, when there was a moment of silence. 

Uhura looked down at her padd. “He should be here any moment, he was on his way back from---” 

The turbolift door slid open, and Spock stepped out. Kirk hadn’t seen him in over a year: not since his last time on the Enterprise when she was still Pike’s ship, when Spock had saved his ass in a firefight and Kirk had promised Pike afterwards that he would convince Spock to be his first officer if it was the last thing he did. He looked just as Kirk remembered him. Spock was tall and dark and broad, steady and familiar and comforting. There was a happy jolt in Kirk’s stomach as Spock turned to him. 

“My apologies, captain,” Spock said. His dark eyes were warm as he looked over Kirk. “I just returned from a visit on Vulcan. My mother was less than enthusiastic about my departure.” 

“It’s good to see you, Spock,” Kirk said. He could feel his affection radiating out of his face, but he was powerless to stop it. Spock inclined his head, and walked from the turbolift to the science station, which whirred to life at his approach. He placed his hand over the power panel almost fondly, with his back to the rest of the bridge crew. 

Kirk felt his mouth dry out. Had Spock’s legs always been so long? Had his ass looked like that before, or had he gotten stronger in the intervening year? Had his shoulders always tapered to his waist at that angle; had his fingers always been so agile; had the blue of the science shirt always set off the soft green undertone of his eyelids like that? He realized that he was staring and pulled his eyes away, and if Uhura smirked at him then he would pretend he didn’t know what she had seen. 

As he settled into the captain’s chair, his captain’s chair for the first time, Kirk thought that he might be convinced of the merits of the new uniforms. 

[troofless]

Chapter 3.4 Notes:

in a completely unrelated note to this chapter, the spirit of cooperation through internet circle friends really shone through in this one.

YURI FAN OF FURRY FLYNN CONFIRMED!!!! /J

so i guess in this monologue we do see that yuri doesn’t see himself as ‘winning’ against flynn as per canon

so i do know that a girl in the citizen’s quarter mentions the (morning) market which is a cool touch that we get to see it in the distance in the game

weapons obsessed yuri

imagine you’re a lower quarter resident and you see the big boss of the kids running past you with this frantic look on his face and then he comes back holding a jingling bag of what is definitely gald. also it’s so funny that like. yuri hides his savings. did one of the kids steal from him before and did he beat them up i need to know

omg flynn pov FLYNN POV

what is this sudden POV change why are we suddenly omni-poving yuri’s thoughts bruh

i feel like yuri can run a swindling operation with just one victim (flynn) and be very successful in scamming flynn out of all his gald /j

flynn, thinking he’s committing burglary, but doing it anyway is such a ‘yuri has corrupted him’ moment

ok at first i thought yuri was scamming the guy but it turns out he actually paid more

damn flynn really said you’re giving this? to me? charity work? (恵んでもらう) and then yuri said no fuck you it’s not yours its OURS

insert yuri with the communism meme OUR SWORD

the “yuri……” is so funny

OH I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WERE BACKTALKING THE SWORD JUST NOW BUT NOW YOU COGNITIVELY RESTRUCTURE YOUR BRAIN TO SEE IT AS A GOOD ONE UHUH I SEE YOU YURI LOWELL MR LIAR

so anyway this starts the long history of yuri and flynn co-owning shit together, including, and not limited to, ted’s bread

flynn has a kuzco’s poison moment because japanese doesn’t translate well kekw

so yuri had a gay awakening except instead of gay its the feeling of wanting to beat the shit out of flynn. i get it. i totally get it. his radiant (light) dragon fang (destruction) is so cool.

so the term is actually ユーリの心は晴れやかだった but fuck it. a heart feeling clear and bright makes no sense but i hate it here actually

and then the manga ends here. i am actually soul crushed. like wtf. why didn’t this continue like the raven manga. i hate it here. 

aaand with this we’re done with part 1! everyone can go home now. the book is over. good night. /j i do wanna see the intermission tho i bet its hilarious

oh yeah and there’s no actual yuri and flynn holding the sword together. i’m actually mad. i was baited by the manga. i hate it here. 

[behindthesefangirleyes]

Spoilers Ahead - “The Tutor”

I’ve had a few requests from people outside of the U.S. (or people who just aren’t near theaters showing the film) to do a spoiler-filled recap of the film.

There’s no way that I remembered every single detail, but I tried my best. I also incorporated a few thoughts & observations along the way. I hope this satisfies any curiosity.

The film starts off giving a little bit of background about Ethan (Garrett Hedlund) and shows him tutoring high-school aged kids from wealthy families. It basically drops you into the privileged and vapid lives of these kids. Really stereotypically exaggerated, but pretty amusing at points nonetheless. It focuses a lot on how he reacts to their seeming inability to learn. Then it transitions to the students as they start to get it and do well thanks to his tutoring. This part of the beginning basically ends with one mother (presumably) asking him what his secret is and I don’t really remember what he says but it was just a laid back, nothing sort of answer.

The film continues and we learn that he and his girlfriend Annie (Victoria Justice) are expecting a baby. She wants to know how Ethan’s father took the news that they aren’t married but are expecting, and he’s silent for her long enough to tell that he hasn’t told his dad (even though he promises that he will soon). In time, we learn that there are bigger issues there with his father (who we never meet).

Ethan’s day job isn’t super clear, at least to me. He works sort of in an office setting, but maybe like a temp-type job. When he goes into work, he’s told to call some guy named Charlie who is ... frankly, equal parts a lot and totally unnecessary to the story. Charlie is the voice-over in the trailer that tells Ethan about the job paying $2,500 per day. As he said in the trailer, details are sparse. He’s also randomly calling from a strip club and shouted out Montclair, NJ, which is hilarious as someone who grew up in a neighboring town to Montclair (but I digress). As is established, Ethan takes the job with minimal questions asked because he needs the money. Which, as my friend pointed out, maybe do not live in NYC in a pretty spacious apartment if you can’t afford it LOL. There’s a real disconnect.

Ethan packs his bags and moves into the family’s house for a trial-run tutoring week, leaving a maybe-5-month pregnant Annie to pack up their apartment by herself (goals? lmao). Once Ethan arrives and is brought inside by the butler, he meets Jackson (Noah Schnapp). Jackson is stand-offish and doesn’t make any immediate eye contact. Ethan tries to ask him questions and glean what he is even meant to work on with him. Jackson says he doesn’t know how he did on his SATs, but he would get his father’s secretary to send over his results. Ethan gives Jackson some test prep to see what level he’s on and then leaves him to that while he explores the house some more.

During Ethan’s exploration is when he meets some other people who are around the house. The one guy is later identified as Jackson’s cousin. Who Jackson describes as the “brother that I never had” and who “summers with us” (you can’t make this stuff up). There’s a random girl with him, never stated but inferred to be his girlfriend. That whole scene was just purposefully weird and to be honest, I could’ve done without it. What we do learn, though, is that cell reception is best by the pool unless you have access to the Wi-Fi. More on that later. This sequence I believe is also when Ethan sees all the motorcycles that the family owns. Ethan then sees Jackson’s clearly a whiz at math and gives him an essay to work on instead. The butler returns and takes Ethan to his quarters, which is basically a house in itself with a pool table, etc. & later that night he talks about it with Annie over the phone.

I’m pretty sure the next day when they’re working is when Ethan asks what Jackson’s father does for a living. Jackson says that he’s not allowed to talk about it. Then he asks about Jackson’s mother and he clams up before saying that “they sent her away.” Ethan apologizes for that. I’m sort of losing track of the order at this point, but eventually (possibly later that day) there’s the scene within Ethan’s quarters where Jackson appears. He asks if he can come in and just randomly starts talking to Ethan about how he feels like his father hates/is disappointed in him. He lays his head down on Ethan’s knee, unprompted, and Ethan is basically like, tf? But then the scene goes as the preview showed - Ethan comforts him, says he has his own complicated relationship with his father who we learn can be volatile and is a drinker, and then Jackson gets a sort of cold yet cheerfully detached smile on his face and leaves again without any clear reason why he showed up in the first place.

At some point, Ethan is taking photos in the woods. Which made me realize I forgot about the scene where Jackson asks him to take his photo. It happens maybe the second day of tutoring. So anyway, Ethan’s taking photos because he took “photojournalism in high school and it stuck” (because what’s a tutor without a passion for photography who reads Dostoevsky on the side? I am totally serious, he does). Jackson’s cousin shows up (how coincidental) in a car with his gf and some other girl named Teddy. They insist on giving Ethan a ride and that’s when Ethan asks what the deal is with Jackson (he’s already said to Annie that he doesn’t know why he’s there if this kid is so smart, which Annie says maybe he’s a nervous test-taker and Ethan suspects that Jackson is “on the ‘spectrum’”/some “mad genius”. Lots of ableist language used throughout the film. The cousin asks what Jackson has told Ethan about himself, and he says the thing about the mother being sent away. Ethan sort of scoffs and has an offhanded remark like, “Yeah, you could say that.” *Cue foreboding music* Then the cousin makes some lewd remark about how Teddy will do whatever the cousin says if Ethan wants to get with her. Ethan responds to this super misogynist remark by saying he has a girlfriend. The cousin said he heard about that and how they’re expecting a baby and this can be like one last hurrah or some other asinine remark. At this point, Jackson’s “how do you feel about your baby being a bastard?” comment has already happened.

As the week is at the mid-way point, Jackson doesn’t want to study one day. He and the cousin offer to buy off Ethan to let him go early. Bidding starts at $1,000 & works its way up to $5,000 before Ethan basically just goes “c’est la vie” and takes the money. You’d think it would come back to bite him or that Jackson would say he stole the money. It never does. Later in the week as Ethan is packing, Jackson invites him for a farewell dinner with his father on their last tutoring day. Ethan says that he can’t because he has plans. Jackson tries to insist, but Ethan snaps at him that he’s his tutor, not his friend. This felt like a weird overreaction compared to how calm he was when Jackson called his baby a bastard. Jackson runs off and eventually Ethan goes to look for him and apologize. He comes upon Jackson’s bedroom where a laptop is left open (naturally, not password protected). On it, Ethan sees photos of himself and him and Annie on the night that we had previously seen them in their living room. He is creeped out by Jackson’s “obsession.”

On the last day of tutoring, Jackson is going through it. He’s trying to write but he’s shaky and ripping out a page when he’s not happy with it. Ethan confronts him about the laptop photos and when Jackson says he shouldn’t be on his laptop, Ethan says he was looking for him to apologize. Eventually, Jackson sort of has a meltdown where we see in the preview him pounding on his legs and runs out of the den. Ethan chases after him but he’s gone and then a man appears on top of the steps who Ethan says “must be Jackson’s father.” The man says how Jackson is always like this and Ethan apologizes for not being able to make the dinner. The scene is the father making random nonsensical remarks about World War I and offering Ethan this big painting in the foyer since he likes it because “we’ve got three or four others around here like it.” Rich people are a different breed.

At some point during this week, Annie is out walking with one of her friends & she talks about her history with Ethan (as you do lmao). We learn he’s cheated on her with some artist or whatever. She still has trouble trusting him, etc. etc. Now that the week of tutoring has ended, Ethan and Annie are out to dinner & having it with the same woman and her significant other. Annie announces the sex of the baby is a boy. The other couple, for no apparent reason, announce they’re moving to Portland (which Portland? they never say) but of course, not until after the baby is born because she’d never do that to Annie. Gag. Ethan is brooding and drinking the entire dinner. Right before the dinner, he heard from Charlie again that the family wants to continue the tutoring of Jackson. He isn’t eager to continue but the pay rate skyrockets. The couple says to him how they hear he has remarkable stories of students that he’s tutored. Ethan tells Annie’s favorite of a girl who threw a book at him and called him white trash. Another is of a father sending him on a trip to London to take his kid on a college tour. He then begins talking about Jackson and ranting about his creepiness of knowing about the baby to taking his photos to his random meltdown, and then all of a sudden Jackson appears and clearly heard the entire rant. The table is deadly quiet (at this point I’ve slid all the way down in my seat from pure secondhand embarrassment) and Annie greets Jackson and they make brief awkward small talk. Jackson eventually leaves and the scene transitions to a car ride home as Annie says she hates when “Ethan gets like this” and how it’s always bad when he drinks because he reminds her “of your dad”. This oh-so-mysterious dad.

Again, I’m sort of losing the plot at this point but the next major thing that I’m remembering is that Jackson calls Ethan to say that he and his family are in Manhattan for the day and the tutoring will take place at their brownstone. So Ethan can let himself into it. Ethan tries to apologize for the previous encounter, but Jackson says they’ll talk later and the line goes dead. Ethan goes over to the brownstone and waits. Jackson says that they’re stuck in traffic and there’s fruit that he left out for Ethan. Ethan eats two strawberries (what a dummy) and starts feeling weird. As he collapses with a thud, there’s a not quite worthy TikTok transition to a body getting dumped into water. Again with the theme of water. Ethan comes to and swims to the surface as a small boat is retreating. The next scene is him coming home to Annie and that’s the scene where she asks where he was and then is skeptical when Ethan believes he was drugged and mentions how a random girl kept calling their house but wouldn’t give her name. They fight and the next day, Ethan is convinced he figured out the drug that Jackson gave him based on its effects and side-effects.

Ethan develops his camera roll in another scene and as he’s doing it, there are photos on it that he didn’t take. Ones of him laying in compromising positions with Terry. Again, are these ever fully utilized? Nope. He gets in bed with Annie and they sort of make a truce because they don’t want to fight and both want answers more. He’s already encouraged her to use the tracker on his phone if she doesn’t trust him.

Now I really don’t remember the order of what happens next but eventually, Ethan gets a phone call from Charlie. Charlie tells him that Jackson accused him of being dangerous and there are bruises on his legs. Ethan says how Jackson gave those to himself and then Charlie hits him with a separate accusation about how Ethan was inappropriate with girls and that there were photos. Ethan unintentionally admits to the existence of photos, which is enough for Charlie to fire him. Glass houses, am I right?

Ethan is on a quest for answers as well as other paying work. He’s not even qualified enough to work as a waiter and at some point, he confronts Jackson who’s waiting for him on a busy street to stay away from him and his family. Jackson asked if Ethan meant what he said about him and Jackson, ever the dummy, says he did. Jackson is resolved to ruin his life and Jackson physically pushes him before the cousin intervenes. Later, Ethan is brought in for some questioning because there was video of Jackson getting assaulted in an alley and he accused Ethan. Ethan says he didn’t do it & it was probably Jackson’s cousin. They asked Ethan’s whereabouts the previous night and I don’t recall when this was exactly, it may be when he was going through the photographs. He doesn’t answer but is brought to a separate interrogation room. As he goes by a separate room, Annie is comforting Jackson for no apparent reason. Like, how that makes sense is beyond me. The police tell Ethan not to leave town & he agrees that he wants this resolved and his life back.

Eventually in a later scene, he tells Jackson that he’s ruined his life. He starts trying to find more answers by 1) going back to the mansion and 2) returning to the brownstone. At the mansion, he is hiding in the bushes and sees another group of people pull up out front. He asks if they’re staying there and the man says it’s his house. Ethan asks if they’re renting it and if they know where Jackson is, but the guy doesn’t know a Jackson and says they’ve been away or something. Ethan says that he’s stayed there the past week, which creeps the man out. The man tries to usher him off the property when a girl comes out and it’s Terry, who they immediately make eye contact. So Jackson had her help with the setting etc. The man pushes Ethan off the property and he goes back to the brownstone to find evidence of his drugging for a restraining order. He finds a strawberry under the couch, but this dipshit doesn’t consider that wealthy people will have in-house security. The police show up and he’s thrown in a cell.

**Mention of Suicide**

Jumping around again, at some point he and Annie are talking. I’m not sure when, but she finds out about a girl named Rachel. I don’t remember how she found out because as I said in my non-spoiler post, this movie was all over the damn place. This Rachel died under mysterious circumstances years ago. At least five or six years, maybe? Ethan eventually admits that they “had a fling”, but Rachel took her own life. Annie asked if it was an affair but basically he said Rachel was just in a marriage on paper. She and her husband weren’t in love. Annie is alarmed that Ethan wouldn’t think to mention any of it before and he says that he tried to forget it and it’s not the most natural thing to bring up in conversation. Annie discovers that he was also questioned and basically says she can’t be around him right now because all of the stress isn’t good for the baby. She kicks him out of their home.

Ethan spirals. He’s living in his car and drinking booze etc. (Just like his dad, I guess *eye roll*) Annie talks to that same friend about the situation and pulled up old articles about the situation and the friend is sort of on Ethan’s side in terms of how it’s a hard thing to mention casually etc. The friend asks Annie again if she still has the tracker on Ethan’s phone, which she confirms since she’s still not trusting him. Ethan eventually gets a call from Jackson saying they’d be able to end this cat and mouse deal if Ethan meets him at the place where Rachel died.

Now, full disclaimer: I don’t remember if Jackson was the one who told Annie about Rachel or what the deal was here. But the “big discovery” is that Rachel was actually Jackson’s mother. So when Ethan shows up where Rachel died, Jackson reveals that he shouldn’t actually know where she died. Even though Rachel’s body washed up in the body of water, she didn’t die from drowning. There was no water in her lungs. He head was slammed down so hard on the planks down by the water that it chipped it, so she was already dead when she was thrown into the water. The only people with access to that knowledge were the police, Jackson and his father after they were given the police report, and the murderer. Ethan says it’s not a leap to know where she died because of the water patterns and where she washed up or whatever. Anyway, it was flimsy.

Soon thereafter, Ethan gets a conk on the head. He wakes up in a house and there’s Jackson and the cousin. The cousin is all too eager to kill Ethan, but Jackson wants answers. Ethan starts by saying he didn’t see and/or talk to Rachel the night that she died. Then he says they only talked over the phone. Then under threat of death, he eventually drops the party line that “Rachel” wasn’t that serious of a relationship. He admits that it was more than a fling. That Rachel was obsessed with him and wanted one more night with him & then he agreed. That’s when Jackson revealed he had Rachel’s old journals where she wrote about Ethan. How he started off cute but was obsessive & always like a puppy dog, so needy. How he was a “loser” etc. Ethan unravels further and then just sort of snaps.

Another disclaimer: I don’t remember when we found out, but we did at some point learn that Jackson’s father died three years ago. I think when Ethan’s in the interrogation room. So that dude that he talked to? Another of Jackson’s players, but one that was never explained.

Anyway, Ethan goes to attack Jackson but the cousin tackles him. He’s got like a fire poker to turn logs or something. Eventually, Ethan gets him in a chokehold with it as Jackson runs up the stairs. He suffocates and kills the cousin & then starts hunting for Jackson (who he, for the record, knew existed when he was with Rachel but said he thought his name was Charlie or something - it made no sense).

The scene at some point transitions to Annie, who’s laying in bed. She looks at her phone and sees her Ethan GPS and is wondering what he’s doing.

It goes back to the other two. Jackson is running around and hiding and crying as Ethan hunts for him. At one point, Ethan’s like “I should’ve realize who you are, you look just like her.” LOL alright. They end up down by the water with Jackson hiding beneath the wooden boards on the stairs that would lead to water. Jackson finally approaches him and is using the fire poker to bang & attempt to scare him etc. He’s admitting how he killed Rachel (it’s basically a “crime of passion”) and how now Jackson will die where she died. That’s when Annie announces her presence & Ethan, in true sociopath form, turns to face her and act like none of what she just heard him say is true. The close-up here of Garrett’s performance is probably the one that I liked the most in the film since it’s basically him crying and totally devoid of genuine remorse yet he still manages to look melancholy. He has his whole monologue and then you hear a gunshot.

That’s the moment from the preview where you see Jackson with the gun as a close-up. He sort of shot him just below the shoulder? I guess it was meant to be the heart. Eventually, Ethan falls down and into the water (foreshadowing from earlier?). The big foreshadowing I found was the relevance of phones working best near water (i.e.: cell service by pool, GPS by waterfront). That was probably the least heavy-handed and well approached part of the script.

The scene shifts to Jackson and Annie sort of in a stupor as the police work around them. Eventually, Jackson is looking out the window like we saw in the promotional stills. Annie comes up from behind him and asks whether the cops found Ethan’s body. Jackson shakes his head no and it’s kinda like, “Uh, okay what isn’t being said here?” Because they did have scuba divers going down for him. So that was sort of ambiguous. Then she made some random remark about living your life around people and not really knowing them.

The camera sort of pans out to a wide shot of their backs as they look out on the horizon and Ethan’s voiceover is heard. He’s giving a more full answer to the woman who asked him originally what his method of tutoring entailed. I cannot even begin to tell you what he said because by that point I was like, this is an 1.5 of my life that I’m never getting back LOL. But it ended with a close-up of him smiling at the camera, then turning creepy serious.

Fin

[krejong]

Get to know me

Danke für die Tag @caromitpunkt🌞

Share your wallpaper: Hylas and the Nymphs by John William Waterhouse. (↓)

The last song you listened to: Maghreb by Saint Levant & Bayou

Currently Reading: The Eye of The World (the first part of the Wheel of Time series—I've heard...things so IDK if I'll ever finish the series but so far I'm enjoying this book) by Robert Jordan and So weit die Störche ziehen by Theresia Graw (it’s supposed to be a very chicklit-y romance, which isn’t usually my type of story, but I’m just trying to ease myself into committing to actual books in German by not going too highbrow right off the bat.)

Last Movie: non-Tatort-related was ‘Fack ju Göhte 2’ because the girl I like thinks that it’s a staple in German cinematographic culture and that I couldn’t possibly graduate as a Germanic philology student without having seen it.

Craving: Something I can actually taste! My nose has been completely blocked for several days now and I miss flavours 😢

What are you wearing right now: my trusty ski socks, blue Snoopy pajama pants and a green-and-white striped shirt that I’m pretty sure is sized for a teenage boy. Queen of style, as per uzhe

How tall are you: about 1m78

Piercings: just two sets of earring piercings and one in my left nostril

Tattoos: I remain tattoo-less, for now. 

Glasses? Contacts?: Glasses, always! I sat on them a while back though so I should really go get new rims instead of walking around with these crooked ones, but I’ve gone and gotten attached now…

Last drink: Ginger and honey tea.

Last show: Because this is my First Life 

Last thing you ate: Shakshouka my beloved 😋

Favourite colour: GREEN

Current obsession: …does it need saying?

Unrelated Obsession: unnecessarily pretentious period dramas (not Bridgerton though, sorry)

Any pets: Nope!

Do you have a crush on anyone: Unfortunately so. I’m planning on telling her after our exams finish though, so if it all spectacularly blows up in my face and I go around whining on Tumblr now you guys will know why. Sorry in advance 🙃

Favourite fictional character: Is this what being quartered felt like? I guess Isabelle Grandjean, but just for the record this is an evil, evil question.

The last place you traveled: Aachen, Amsterdam or Antwerp, depends on what we’re counting as ‘traveling.’

Tagging @disappointingsalad @karin-in-action @lucy-in-space @anafrndz and @punchandspade

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Edit: Ok so since the first part is probably lost in the ask box, I’ll just send everything together as a whole. Hope it fits. If there’s anything you would like to debate on, tell me. I want to hear your opinions. 

Rpg Anon: Ok so before I start, go back to Jan 22, 2023 to see my original list of everyone's sentinel types. This list will be somewhat linked back to that one. It'll help describe why I chose those gens for them and how I felt about their playstyles. Tho, I believe Miu and Maki swapped later on. Regardless, I'm going to make Pilot skills for everyone, starting with class 77, based on what I believe they would have and actual 13 sentinels pilot skills. Everyone has 6 total pilot skills, each that they learn every five levels until level 30. A lot of them are based on relations with other characters. I might be stretching some of them to fit. There is going to be a lot of reference to Free Time Events, Dangan Island Endings, dialogue, blog memes, and everything. This is gonna be quite lengthy cuz I need spacing. I'll have to make class 78 later. Here goes:

1st Gens: 

Hajime: 

Level 5: I'll Protect You All. The more members on the strike team, the higher stats all stats increase. 

Level 10: Master Martial Artist. Close-quarter attacks do more damage the closer the kaiju are. 

Level 15: No Matter What Happens. Whenever Mahiru gets attacked, Hajime's Wait Time (WT) recovery speed and attack increase temporarily. 

Level 20: Player Two. If Hajime attacks after Chiaki, Hajime's ATK increases. 

Level 25: I Am Hajime Hinata! Increases all stats. 

Level 30: The Future That We Want! The more members on the strike team that are not immobilized, the higher all stats significantly increase.

Akane:

5: I Got This. The fewer members of the Strike team, the higher all stats increase.

10: I Can Take You All. ATK and DEF increase if there are many kaiju nearby.

15: Ultimate Gymnast. High chance to dodge melee attacks.

20: Coach Nekomaru. ATK and WT recovery speed increases if Nekomaru is nearby.

25: Berserker. ATK increases as HP decreases.

30: What It Means To Be Confident. All stats increase the more kaiju there are.

Chiaki: 

5: Gaming Addiction. WT recovery speed increases when deployed in consecutive battles.

10: Let Me Solo Them. Greatly increases all stats, WT recovery speed, and move speed and high chance to dodge attacks if Chiaki is the sole member of the strike team. (I'm laughing my ass off cuz of this stupidly absurd skill)

15: Cheat Code. Increase all stats of the strike team when terminal defense rate is 40% or lower. (This is a trash skill)

20: Digivolve to... MetalChiakimon! Increase all stats.

25: Infinite Combo. ATK increases when the total number of combos exceeds 100.

30: I'll Never Forget You Guys. Whenever Chiaki's Sentinel is destroyed, all stats of the strike team significantly increase. (This type of skill in the game is trash for obvious reasons but I had to do it.)

Peko: 

5: Ultimate Swordswoman. Close-quarter attacks do more damage the closer the kaiju are.

10: At His Side. If Fuyuhiko is in the strike team, increase all stats.

15: Quick Draw: Increases Counter’s power proportional to damage taken.

20: Bodyguard. Attack power and move speed increase whenever Fuyuhiko gets attacked.

25: Once Again, A Worthless Object. Whenever Peko defeats small sized kaiju, WT recovery speed increases.

30: Justice Complete! If many kaiju are defeated in 1 hit, ATK, WT recovery speed, move speed, and damage received increases temporarily.

Nekomaru: 

5: Ultimate Team Manager. If ally First-Gen Sentinels attack after Nekomaru, increase all stats. (this increases the allies’ stats, not Nekomaru’s)

10: Ultimate Masseuse. Slightly recovers HP of nearby allies.

15: Alrighty Then, Full Power It Is! Significantly increases ATK if a Gladiator is nearby.

20: NEKOMARU NIDAI's Final Firework! If allies are nearby, Nekomaru can take an otherwise fatal blow to his sentinel instead of theirs.

25: Just A Little Shot. Once per battle, Nekomaru can survive with 1 HP in an otherwise fatal blow to his sentinel. (Trash skill cuz you’d never want this scenario)

30: Reborn In The Rivers Of Hell! After taking a certain amount of damage, greatly increases DEF.

2nd Gens: 

Sonia:

5: Ultimate Queen. When defending, increase all stats of the strike team.

10: Military Might. Increases the ATK and DEF of Guardians, Guardian Avengers, and Sentry Guns.

15: My Femininity Is Hella Boss. The more girls on the strike team, the higher all stats increase.

20: Jesus! Shit! You Son Of A Bitch! ATK, WT Recovery Speed, and move speed increases temporarily after taking a certain amount of damage.

25: In The Name Of Darkness! If Gundham is in the strike team, increase all stats.

30: A Warm, Yet Resolute, Light. Significantly increase all stats upon entering low HP.

Gundham:

5: Infinity Unlimited Flame! Increases armament power against attacking kaiju.

10: Come, My Dark Queen! Increase all stats if Sonia is in the strike team.

15: Fine, I’ll Let You Hold Them. Increase Peko’s ATK, WT recovery speed, and move speed if she is nearby.

20: Not Giving Up On Life. Increase ATK and DEF if Nekomaru is in the strike team.

25: For The Tanaka Empire! WT recovery speed increases proportional to the number of summoned weaponry on the map.

30: Breaking The Seal. Greatly increase all stats after a certain amount of time has passed. (One in-game minute and a half during battle. In other words, quite some time.)

Mikan:

5: Ultimate Nurse. HP recovers for self and allies after defending.

10: You're A Lifesaver! Doubles Repair Emitter effectiveness and expands area of effect by 50%. 

15: Opposites Attract. Increase all stats if Ibuki is nearby.

20: Bond Of Sadism. If Mikan attacks after Hiyoko, ATK increases.

25: Suppressed Remnant. After taking a certain amount of damage, significantly increase ATK.

30: Resuscitation. Once per battle, 5% chance that allies near Mikan recover HP upon taking an otherwise fatal blow to their sentinels. 

Teruteru:

5: Hanamura, Meat Now! Akane’s ATK significantly increases temporarily if Teruteru is nearby.

10: Pervert. The more girls on the strike team, the higher all stats increase.

15: My Tastes Are Pretty Open. Increase all stats if Nekomaru is nearby.

20: Surge Of Lust. Increase all stats upon entering low HP if any female allies are nearby. (I was running out of ideas.)

25: Call Me The Ultimate Chef Instead? Increase all stats.

30: Why I Started Cooking. WT recovery speed increases when summoning weaponry.

3rd Gens: 

Fuyuhiko:

5: Always Been Together. If Peko is in the strike team, increase DEF and WT recovery speed.

10: Kiwami. Movement range of Stun Knuckles is increased by 500%. (Stun Knuckles suck ass for Gen 3’s but I wanted to replicate Yakuza in some minimal sense.)

15: The Winter Prince Of Kuzuryu. Increases armament power proportional to distance from kaiju.

20: Sharpshooter. Increases critical-hit chance against aerial kaiju.

25: Sworn Brother. Increase ATK and DEF if Hajime is nearby.

30: Standing On My Own Two Feet. If Peko is not nearby, significantly increases all stats.

Ryuji:

5: Imposter. Gains access to use one non-passive armament equipped to random ally on the strike team.

10: I'll Protect You All. The more members on the strike team, the higher stats all stats increase. 

15: Leadership. When defending, increases all stats of the strike team.

20: Acrofatic. Greatly increases move speed. (3rd Gens have absolute shit move speed so Ryuji having this might make a difference)

25: Brothers. Increase ATK and DEF if Ryota is nearby.

30: Ryuji Mitarai. Increase all stats. 

Mahiru:

5: Surprise Snapshot. Armament power increased significantly against Kaiju that just appeared and increased back attack range.

10: Unreliable Hajime. Whenever Hajime gets attacked, increase attack power against any kaiju near him.

15: Team Mom. After defending, increase EP for all allies and recover HP for all female allies. (Really wanted to call this one Mamahiru)

20: Say Cheese! Duration of EMP effects are increased.

25: Redhead Defenders. If Mahiru is attacked, ATK and WT recovery speed significantly increase for Hiyoko, Ibuki, and Mikan.

30: This Feeling of Cherishing Someone. If Hajime is in the strike team, increase all stats. 

Ibuki:

5: Live Concert: Increases the area of effect of all armaments by 50%.

10: Band-Aid. If Mikan is in the strike team, increase all stats.

15: Girl Band. Increases all stats if Chiaki or Hiyoko are in the strike team.

20: Fight Song. After defending, EP slightly recovers for allies.

25: I Got You, Sweetie! If Mikan is attacked, Ibuki’s WT recovery speed increases.

30: Sure Well-Endowed Nowadays. The more girls on the strike team, the higher all stats increase.

4th Gens: 

Nagito: (prepare for absolute negative bullshit)

5: Stepping Stones. All stats significantly increase proportional to the number of allies except himself below 50% HP and/or are immobilized. (What the fuck, Nagito?!)

10: Ultimate Lucky Student. Friendly fire is activated and armaments have 50% chance to insta-kill, excluding bosses.

15: Loneliness. All stats of allies in the strike team slightly increase when not near Nagito.

20: Russian Roulette. 5/6ths chance for allies to lose HP and 1/6th chance to recover HP when near Nagito.

25: Complicated Feelings. HP recovers when near Hajime.

30: A Vow For Love And Change. After a certain amount of time, Seiko will contact Nagito and friendly fire will be negated, probabilities for skills will be reversed, all allies will recover HP, and all stats will greatly increase. (like Gundham, it takes one in-game minute and a half) 

Ryota: (I might have almost no good ideas for him so I had to think of anything)

5: Ultimate Animator. Armaments have a 50% chance to turn Kaiju friendly. (brainwashing is strangely not that useful at all, though)

10: Hikikomori. DEF and WT recovery speed increases when beyond a certain distance from Kaiju.

15: Used To Loneliness. Increases all stats when no allies are nearby.

20: Atonement. When Ryota’s sentinel gets destroyed, all allies recover HP. (again, garbage skill. Never would want this to happen.)

25:  Brothers. Increase ATK and DEF if Ryuji is nearby.

30: I Promised I Won’t Die. If Iroha contacts the team, increases all stats until the end of the next wave. (I really don’t want to explain this but I guess I have to. I’m saying that after taking a hard hit and reaching critical condition, Iroha will contact him out of concern.)

Hiyoko:

5: Squish Squish: Increases ATK and WT recovery speed after destroying Workers.

10: Let's Destroy Them, Big Sis! If Mahiru is in the strike team, increase all stats.

15: Ultimate Traditional Dancer. High chance to dodge melee attacks.

20: Gratefulness. If Hiyoko is attacked, Mikan’s move speed increases.

25: He Did Say I Have Nice Legs. Increases Leg Spike’s power proportional to the distance moved. (Reference to Kazuichi saying he likes her legs and bust)

30: Don't Get A Big Head, Greasemonkey! If Kazuichi is in the strike team, WT recovery speed significantly increases.

Souda:

5: Coward. Increases armament power when attacking from beyond a certain distance.

10: Ultimate Mechanic. Shield Repair recovers 50% of ally’s HP and temporarily increases all stats, WT recovery speed, and move speed of ally.

15: Attention Seeker. The more girls on the strike team, the higher all stats increase.

20: Minimaru Troops, Go! Interceptors explode upon destruction, damaging nearby Kaiju.

25: This Sure Is Getting Annoying Again... If Hajime, Akane, Fuyuhiko, or Sonia are in the strike team, all stats significantly increase.

30: I Promised You Hugs: ATK and DEF for Kazuichi and Hiyoko significantly increase when she is nearby.

And now it’s time to start on Class 78 if I can.

//jk.

//Some of these are really clever and creative, like the Hajime and Chiaki one.

//Let me solo them is a good reference.

//I also like that you used some of the important quotes of each character for their best abilities, and Mahiru, Gundham and Nagito's skillsets in particular is really entertaining for some reason.

-Mod

[ghastspidergwen]

:3

As you know, I like jeeps, and I also like trucks, and unfortunately or rather fortunately that lead me down the rabbit hole of jeep trucks

But I'm not here to talk about the Comanche (MJs), the old SJ (or J series) gladiators, or my beloved CJ-8 scrambler.

I'm here to talk about the 10 ton trucks :]

These guys:

Now I'm still not entirely sure how it's name was coined as I'm like 90% it's a classification instead of being the name of a singular truck, with these trucks being more like tractors than modern day trucks (besides big rigs) and the trucks also weighed a lot more than 10 tons

(It's name is even weirder when you consider that it's cousin the five quarter ton was named that due to it's payload rating)

The trucks I know the most about are the M123A1C Truck Tractor and the M125 which had a massive V8 (785 cu in or 12.9L) with about 300hp and a torque of around around 6300 pound per inch if my math is right.

These guys were known for hauling tank and artillery parts :]

This one is hauling some construction equipment!

Now more is known about the M123 but from my understanding they were essentially the same truck but with slightly different purposes and slight improvements

All in all a very impressive truck, but it gets better! Now this beauty is a little more than 9ft wide, about 23ft long, and a whopping 9ft with a few inches height wise with some 14x24 tires (about 53 inches or just below 4 and a half feet).

Now earlier I mentioned that the ten ton truck classification was a little misleading, this beauty was actually about 32.5k lbs or roughly 16 tons on its own without any cargo, but with cargo (depending on if you were on or off road) it was 60,000 lbs off road and 65,000 lbs on road at a speed of just over 40mph.

:]

Now the really interesting part was how it's engine worked, I already talked a little bit about it's specs but not the really fun stuff.

It had steering brakes! That meant you could choose what side of the rig you wanted to apply the breaks to! Very useful for turning in bad conditions and surviving spin outs.

It also had Williams Air Brakes! Which blocked a part of the exhaust pipe, which is normally a bad thing but since it was an insanely heavy truck and a stick shift, you needed the engine to slow down so that you could easily shift into a different gear.

The transmission itself weighed about 1,500 lbs and was a stick shift 5 speed and what made it extra interesting was that it has 2 lube systems instead of the typical one you see in any other rig, unfortunately it's transmission system despite being really interesting kinda sucked and had a major leaking issue and it's weird plumbing/wiring didn't really help it at all.

Sadly due to these things being fuckin huge and also made in the 50s and only sold to the US military, there's barely any of em around anymore and you're not going to see any on the roads

Id probably rank this as my favorite big rig but my favorite truck still has to be my beloved CJ-8<3

Thank you for letting me ramble<3

this is exciting what I asked for, thank you very much!

[a-dream-bookmark]

a dream bookmark presents: JUL 2023

adolescence (noun)

the transitional stage of physical and psychological development that generally occurs during the period from puberty to adulthood

Welcome to A Genius Bookmark, our July 2023 recommendations list with a theme around school or university aus. From the start of the month, we have compiled a list of fics the community has given and prepared to give to you. We would like to provide our biggest appreciation to the people contributing to the making of this list. Thank you so much and we would announce the theme for August 2023 soon!

Do you want to know more about us? Check this out!

The list is below the cut!

MEMBER'S RECS

TXT

|| murphy's law by @h00nerz | requested by @writingmochi

Pairing: choi beomgyu x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, high school au, troublemaker!beomgyu, stuco president!reader, kind of one sided enemies to lovers if you squint

What they said about the fic: though set in high school, it definitely talks more about the pressure a teen could face and how one thing wrong can definitely become a domino of wrongful events (eg: i've experienced it myself)

ENHYPEN

|| 14 steps to a better you by @orochxi | requested by @writingmochi

This fic has dark/mature themes

Pairing: Jake Sim x fem!reader

Genre: Coming of age, angst

Synopsis: "If you're not in your middle ages but are already suffering through the pains of financial security, does that make it a quarter-life crisis?" Jake asked as he looked back on the last three years of his student life. He did have many unforgettable moments and sleepless nights, but the excessive consumption of beer and neon-lit raves came crashing to a halt after everyone around him decided it was time to focus on their respective career paths. Left with an empty to-do list and an uncertain future, he meets you, a person who was on the different side of the same coin.

What they said about the fic: it doesn't focus on the college aspect per se, but it definitely tackles the challenges of higher education and what comes after; what does one sought after it and the expectation after getting a degree. spoiler: that's not easy to process at all

MULTI-GROUP

|| smirch series (txt and enhypen) by @writingmochi | requested by @writingmochi

This fic has dark/mature themes

Pairing: txt and enhypen 01, 02, & 03 members ✗ fem.reader (respectively)

Genre: teen drama, coming of age, slice of life, high school au, fluff, comedy, angst, mature content (drugs, suggestive themes, mental health)

Synopsis: ahh… teenage… people said that those times are the golden years of life. yet here you guys are, being the dirt that smeared it instead

What they said about the fic: one of the most immersive world-building out of all my stories. it's filled with things a teen might connect with (has some influence from myself, friends, teen media, and kpop songs too). though i update it once i have the desire too, it still has stories that are the most relatable to me

Navigation | Collections

[todayisafridaynight]

As someone who has been putting Mine and Jo (well, specifically RGGJo, but the premises still apply) in Situations since 2020… It is exceptionally hard to get them in the same room but with the power of mental illness we can make it happen.

Mine started out by poaching more profitable families from under their umbrella organizations, right? The Arakawa Family has always been fairly well-off for a third-tier family (if Masato's allowance is any indication), particularly compared to the Nishikiyama Family who weren't bringing in any profit at all, and Mine has pretty good instincts in terms of sussing out potential.

So it would be worth dropping by the office (probably to get turned away with Yet Another Lecture about codes of honor, Arakawa's pretty old-school). But. You know. Jo Would Be There. I feel like Jo may have considered it a missed opportunity in terms of the family's prosperity (though it's not like he can speak over Arakawa), since Mine's terms are insanely good from a business point of view, although it ultimately proves to be for the best when the Nishikiyama Family and Hakuho Clan dissolve.

On the other hand, very fun to think about what Mine would be in for if he attempted to blackmail them into submission As Per Usual, or what he'd even be able to dig up if he pulled out all stops and looked into them.

Mine does have a tendency to make way more enemies than friends, too, so maybe someone puts a hit on him and the Arakawa Family (i.e. Jo) is assigned to it. The Only Thing That Can Kill Mine Is Himself (Allegedly) so it wouldn't work out, obviously, but it would be epic… Mine could take him…

Or say Mine recovers from Dying and wants to disappear. The whole homeless quarter thing's a "secret," but the Arakawa Family must have some kind of reputation if people specifically go to them to start their new lives. They could be the ones to ship him off to Yokohama. I've always said that plot point makes it so pretty much any dead character could be brought back if it's believable enough that they could know about the Arakawas.

Hell, Mine didn't HAVE to join the Nishikiyama Family, they were just the first "in" he could find and he stumbled upon them basically by accident. It could've been any family. And perhaps if he joined the Arakawa Family instead, his quest for bonds could've had a bit less heartbreak… one or two new dads who're soft on him because he reminds them of their son… Jo wouldn't have anything to complain about either, Mine'd be the top earner for sure…

Or they just happen to be the two guys at the Poppo who happen to be tall enough to look over the shelves and they spend the whole time avoiding eye contact and then never meet again.

Many such scenarios…

with the power of mental illness literally anything is possible and i know now without a doubt this is SO TRUE