#engine kit sets

[anarcho-karlachism]

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[besteyeclinicinnoida]

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[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny wakes up in a cage in the Batcave as a human and thinks to himself “well that’s not a good sign.”

Big bad bat encountered him in the caves near the Batcave by finding him half dunked in the Lazarus pits under Gotham during a routine check. He put the boy in a cage as a precaution, but was otherwise planning on investigating then returning him to his rightful place.

Danny does not know that.

He proceeds to search his pockets (phase his hand into his body disguised as reaching into his pockets) and pulls out a tool kit, systematically disassembles, exits, then reassembles the cage.

And walks out.

Now the bats are hunting the streets for this engineering escape artist while Danny is just hanging out at a newsstand reading up on the universe Clockwork had sent him to check out.

"Woah! What happened here?" Duke gasps from the staircase. He is wearing his school uniform, but upon checking his backpack, he realizes his chemistry textbook is missing, likely somewhere in the Batcave after his latest monitor duty.

He had been multitasking by shooting out questions to the rest of the bats as they patrolled. Due to an injured wrist, Duke had been benched from his regular day shift (Jason offered to cover for him), and watching screens had been the only way Bruce had been willing to let him participate.

That quickly became boring, however, since Oracle was much faster than he was, and Duke had a tough time focusing on screens. He's never been one to enjoy too much screen time - he didn't have the attention span for it.

This meant that Duke had not been in the cave for the past three nights, after he struck a deal with Bruce to let him catch up on some much-needed rest instead, provided he could continue his civilian work during the day.

Imagine his surprise to find the Batcave in disarray, with almost everything taken apart, piece by piece, including the Batcomputer and the dinosaur. Bruce, Damian, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Cass were currently attempting to gather the pieces and reassemble everything, which seemed hard given all the little pieces that had shattered about.

"Some kid with a screwdriver," Jason grunted, holding up various nails towards the light. In front of the anti-hero were five distinct piles of nails and bolts, each separated by type and size, which he carefully sorted from a large bucket.

"What?"

Tim looked up from a mountain of wires, some of which were dropped over his shoulders, around his head, and a few were entangled with his leg, as he tried to untangle everything. He looked as crazed as he did the year he decided he was going to put up all the Christmas lights by himself, only to realize how large Wayne Manor really was. "Two nights ago, we found a civilian unconscious in cave sector T-Y13. He was practically radioactive with Lazarus pits water, so Bruce had the bright idea to put him in a cage as a precaution. The civillain woke up while Bruce was away so he couldn't explain that he was not kidnapped, realized he was in a cage, and deassimbled it with a tool set he pulled from his ass-"

"Tim. Laugauge" Dick scolds, leanign over metal tubes to cover Damian's ears. The twelve-year-old huffs, but doesn't shake off Dick's hands as he stares at a different buckets of lightbults, sorting them like Jason was doing to the nails.

It was a little darker than what Duke was used to.

"-And then, he decided to reassemble the cage once he was out." Tim continued as if he weren't interrupted, nodding his head to the only part of the cave that looked normal. The contamination unit seemed to shine in the untouched spotlights. "Then the civilian had the bright idea to take apart everything in the cave. He systematically disassembled everything and mixed up the pieces. The only things he left alone were the railings!"

"It's pretty impressive," Bruce praises. He was checking over technology boards with a critical eye. A headlight strapped to his forehead shines brightly on the pieces as he smiles. "I wonder where he is now."

"If he has any brains, he's probably applying for a position with a pit crew in NASCAR," Cass laughs, picking up different boards of metal. "He took the whole place apart in less than twenty minutes."

"He even got the Batpens" Dick sighs. "Why was he so passive-aggressive about pulling out the pen's springs?"

"If I woke up in a cage, after unfair imprisonment, I would also cause my captors as much grief as possible," Damain comments casually. "We are lucky he decided to leave nothing harmful behind."

"He just took everything else!" Steph's voice calls out from a dark patch of the cave. Duke knows it's in the direction of the showers and the changing room. "Does anyone see any shower heads over there? The kid took them off every shower!

"I have one!" Cass calls back, holding up an item in her hand. "Are any pipes missing? There are five long metal cylinders that I can't figure out what they are for."

"No, he left the pipes along, but I think he took the mirrors and the door."

"Which door?" Bruce yells back. There is a moment of silence before Steph replies.

"All of them! "

"Of course. That's what these ones are for." Jason says in an Ah-ha voice, holding up a few black bolts. "They're the ones from the shower heads!"

Duke stares, then sighs. He lets his backpack slide off his shoulders, landing on the stairs with a thump. Looks like he's calling in sick to school again.

Rolling up his sleeves, he moves over to Cass and helps her lift the long cylinders she had mentioned. "Do we know anything about this civilian?"

"Before he took the Batcomputer apart, we were able to get that he wasn't in any of the local government records. He isn't from Gotham or this state." Bruce says while carefully placing pieces back on a large computer board with a pair of tweezers. "My guess, he's not going to be in any system, either."

"Why?"

Bruce looks up, his eyes shining. "His DNA matched eighty-five percent with Themyscira's genetic make-up. No proof of cloning either. We may just have a genius male Themysciran on our hands."

Duke didn't like how excited Bruce sounded when he made that statement. He opens his mouth to snap, "You can't adopt him, Bruce!"

It's validating that his voice wasn't the only one that said it, but that it echoed by literally everyone else in the cave. Bruce purses his lips but doesn't agree or disagree with the accusation as he turns back to his computer board.

Duke hears him mutter under his breath, but he's too far away to figure out what he said.

"How long do you think this will take us to put back together?" He asks Cass as they compare metal pieces- he's holding a triangle-looking thing that he can't figure out where it came from.

She kicks aside a circular metal slate, raising a brow at him, then nodding her head toward the left side of the cave. Duke turns to look in the direction of the third Robin, who was wiggling around.

"What are you!?" Tim screams at a blue wire, shaking it like he was strangling someone's neck. Somehow, in the time Duke looked away from him, Tim had his right arm tied to his left knee, with a red wire thread running through his shirt, and his right leg was no longer visible because the rest of the wire pile had consumed it.

"Oh, so it's going to be a few hours," Duke sighs as Cass nods sadly.

"Does anyone have any eyes on the light switches?" Dick yells out. "Damian and I almost have all the pieces to turn the lights back on."

"Oh gods -He took the lockers!" Steph screams in angst. "I had a snack stash in there!"

[darlenecbd]

[automotosolutions]

Revolutionizing Diesel Engines: Dual Fuel Conversion Kits and RECD for DG Sets

Efficiency and emissions control are improving in the world of diesel engines and power generation thanks to cutting-edge technologies like dual fuel conversion kits and RECD (Residential Energy Conservation Demonstration) for DG sets. These innovations present a viable way to lessen environmental effect while keeping the capacity to generate electricity.

Conversion Kit for Diesel Engines to Dual Fuel

A cutting-edge device called a Dual fuel conversion kit for diesel engines enables these engines to run on a combination of diesel fuel and an alternate fuel source, usually compressed natural gas (CNG) or liquefied natural gas (LNG). These retrofit kits are designed to improve the efficiency and reduce emissions of current diesel engines. Due to its cost savings and reduced environmental effect, dual fuel operation is a popular choice across a variety of sectors and applications. It combines the advantages of alternative and diesel fuels.

Residential Energy Conservation Demonstration (RECD) for DG Set

RECD serves as an example of the viability and efficiency of dual fuel conversion technology in residential and commercial settings, notably in the context of DG (Diesel Generator) sets. Through the incorporation of dual fuel conversion kits into DG sets, it demonstrates the potential for considerable fuel cost reductions and emissions reduction. Reducing the carbon footprint associated with diesel engines is one of the goals of Recd for dg set, which aims to encourage cleaner and more sustainable electricity generation.

Dual Fuel Kit

A Dual fuel kit is a comprehensive system that includes the generator set and a dual fuel conversion kit to produce a whole-systems approach to power generation. It makes it possible to switch over smoothly from conventional diesel fuel to an alternate fuel source, improving generator performance and cutting emissions. Dual fuel kits provide you the freedom to select the most economical and ecologically beneficial fuel source depending on a number of variables, including fuel availability and emissions requirements.

Conclusion

Innovative methods for cleaner and more effective power generation from diesel engines include dual fuel conversion kits and RECD for DG sets. These technologies are essential tools for businesses and organisations looking to cut emissions and improve power generating capacities while improving sustainability since they offer economic and environmental benefits.

For original post :- https://cuevadelnitro.com/2023/09/28/recd-for-dg-sets/

[vibeswithdivs]

He’s more patient than he looks

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

The hum of conversation filled the Red Bull Racing headquarters as employees bustled about with an energy that was almost infectious. Engineers huddled over laptops, mechanics leaned against tool racks with grease-streaked hands, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air. It was a world that thrummed with purpose, speed, and precision—qualities that the newcomer sitting at her desk felt slightly out of sync with.

You can do this, she told herself for the hundredth time that day.

Being a social media manager for one of the most prominent teams in Formula 1 was a dream job. Yet, as she stared at the screen, where a half-finished tweet about race day statistics blinked back at her, that dream felt a lot more like a free-fall. She wasn’t just crafting posts about breakfast specials or gym memberships anymore—she was managing the online presence of an entire racing empire.

And, truthfully, she was floundering.

“Morning!”

The cheerful voice made her jump, and she turned to see her colleague, Sophie, leaning over her cubicle wall with a grin. “How’s the newbie settling in?” Sophie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh… good!” she replied quickly, pasting on a smile that she hoped masked her nerves.

Sophie tilted her head, unconvinced. “You’ve been staring at that screen for an hour, and the only thing you’ve posted today is a retweet from Pirelli. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I don’t even know what half these terms mean. DRS, power unit, undercut… it’s like everyone here is speaking a different language.”

Sophie’s face softened. “It is a different language,” she said with a chuckle. “Give it time. It’s only your first week. You’ll get the hang of it. And if you’re still lost, you’ve got plenty of people to ask.”

“Like who?”

“Like me,” Sophie said with a wink. “Or, if you’re feeling brave, you could ask the drivers. Max and Checo are usually good sports about answering questions.”

“Right,” she said, laughing nervously. “Because it’s totally normal to walk up to Max Verstappen and ask him to explain tire degradation.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sophie replied with a grin. “He’s more patient than he looks.”

She didn’t expect to test Sophie’s theory quite so soon. Later that afternoon, while she was setting up her phone to record a behind-the-scenes video in the garage, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Need help?”

She turned, almost dropping her phone when she saw Max Verstappen standing there, dressed in his Red Bull team kit and holding a bottle of water. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity, and his expression was disarmingly friendly.

“Uh… no! I mean, yes. Maybe?” she stammered, fumbling with the tripod. “Sorry, I’m still figuring all this out.”

Max chuckled, setting his water down on a nearby workbench. “Don’t worry about it. What are you trying to do?”

“I’m supposed to get some footage of the engineers prepping your car, but I can’t get the angle right, and—” She broke off, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s my first week. I’m still getting the hang of everything.”

“You’re doing fine,” Max said, his tone reassuring as he stepped closer. “Here, let me see.”

She handed him the phone, watching as he adjusted the tripod with practiced ease. He crouched slightly, angling the camera until it perfectly captured the scene in the garage.

“Like this?” he asked, stepping back to let her check.

She stared at the screen in amazement. “That’s… perfect. How did you do that so quickly?”

“Years of media obligations,” he said with a shrug. “You pick up a thing or two.”

She smiled, feeling some of her nervousness ebb away. “Thanks, Max.”

“No problem,” he replied, picking up his water bottle. “And if you ever need help with anything else—questions, technical stuff, whatever—just ask. It’s better than guessing.”

Max wasn’t kidding. Over the next few weeks, she found herself turning to him more often than she expected, and he answered every question with surprising patience.

“What’s a DRS zone?” she asked one afternoon during a lunch break.

“It’s where we can open the rear wing to go faster,” Max explained, demonstrating with his hands. “But only in certain areas and under certain conditions. You know, to make overtaking easier.”

“And what’s an undercut?” she asked the next day while filming a promo video in the paddock.

Max smirked. “That’s when you pit earlier than the car ahead of you to get fresher tires and gain track position. But timing is everything. If you mess it up, it doesn’t work.”

“Right,” she said, nodding along even though she still felt a bit lost.

Max seemed to notice her confusion because he added, “It’s like beating someone to the front of the line at a concert by taking a shortcut. Make sense?”

“Ahh,” she said, grinning. “That actually helps.”

With Max’s encouragement, her confidence grew. She started experimenting with different content ideas, from quirky Instagram stories to polished YouTube vlogs. Her colleagues noticed the change, offering praise and feedback that bolstered her even further.

But it was Max’s quiet support that made the biggest difference. He never made her feel stupid for asking questions or stumbling over her words, and his humor often turned stressful moments into something lighter.

One evening, as she sat in the media center editing a race weekend highlight reel, Max walked by and paused to watch over her shoulder.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding at the screen.

“‘Not bad’?” she repeated, turning to him with a mock glare.

He grinned. “Okay, fine. It’s great. But you missed the part where I overtook Checo in Turn 3. That was the best move of the race.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’ll add it to the blooper reel.”

“Bloopers?” he said, pretending to look offended. “That was pure talent.”

She shook her head, unable to suppress her smile. “You’re impossible, Verstappen.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” he said, his tone softening. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

By the time the season reached its midpoint, she felt like she’d finally found her footing. The fast-paced world of Formula 1 no longer felt overwhelming; instead, it felt exhilarating.

One evening, after a particularly successful social media campaign, she found herself standing on the balcony of the team’s hospitality unit, watching the sun set over the paddock. Max joined her a few minutes later, leaning against the railing with a relaxed smile.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Always,” she replied with a chuckle. “But I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“I’d say you’re more than getting the hang of it,” Max said. “You’ve been killing it lately. Everyone’s noticed.”

She glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve made this job your own. You’ve brought something new to the team. It’s good.”

Her chest swelled with gratitude, and she looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thanks, Max. For everything. I don’t think I would’ve survived my first month without you.”

He chuckled, reaching out to nudge her shoulder playfully. “Anytime. You’re part of the team now, and we take care of our own. Even if you still ask a million questions.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Get used to it, Verstappen. I’ve got plenty more where those came from.”

Max smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Bring it on.”

[trashmoutth]

You wanna keep arguing now?

Dean Winchester oneshot Summary: Reader and Charlie go on a hunt by themselves and it goes wrong. Now you're stuck in a motel with a pissed of Dean Winchester. Pairing: Dean x f!reader, implied Sam x f!reader (platonic) Warrning(s): NSFW, minors dni!, smut, angst, mentions of death, arguing, english is not my first language and I didn't write for awhile but my spn obsession is back and I felt the need.

„What the hell were you thinking?!“

He was furious with you, you knew that. But after two weeks of being cooped up in the bunker you were starting to go crazy. So, when Charlie called to ask for your help on a vampire case you did not think twice about it. You weren’t exactly a full-fledged hunter per se, but you’ve had some experience in the past couple of years. You’ve helped the boys fight demons, angels, even leviathans, so you believed you could handle yourself against some punk-ass vamps. Not to mention, Charlie was a friend, and you were bored out of your mind.

You left a note for Sam, took one of the cars from the bunker (well, borrowed) and drove off to meet with Charlie. What you did not expect was the case going downhill as quickly as it did. The vamps captured you, fed on you and were trying to decide weather to turn you or kill you, when he came barging in. He took the entire nest out in less than five minutes and set you free. Charlie broke her leg so he dropped her off in a hospital and was currently driving you back to the bunker.

You were grateful to him for saving you, of course, but you knew that he was fuming. He was driving for an hour without saying a word to you and you could sense the anger coming off of him. He didn’t even turn the music on so you sat there uncomfortably in complete silence, only accompanied by the sound of the car engine.

“Dean…”, you tried to begin a sentence, but he quickly cut you off.

“Shut the hell up! I don’t wanna hear it!”

You took a deep breath. You tried to keep your cool because you knew you were in the wrong here, but the way he spoke to you started to make you angry.

“Dean, I know I shouldn’t have left, but you and Sam were working your own case and Charlie needed help…”

“If Charlie needs help, she can always call me! Or Sam! Or Cas! What the hell were you thinking?! Just leaving the bunker like that?! No note, no anything…”

“I left a note!” you protested.

“Well, I didn’t get it!”

“I left it on Sam’s table…”

“Oh, I see! That’s nice! So now you and Sam are keeping stuff from me? That’s great…”

You rolled your eyes. He was so dramatic.

“It’s not like that…”

“No, no, no, you know what? That’s fine! You and Sammy have something going on, I don’t give a crap, but the next time your ass needs saving don’t call me!”

“Well, I’m not the one who called you, Charlie did”, you said calmly.

 He shot you a dirty look and stepped on the gas pedal.

“Jesus Christ, man, slow down!”, you gasped.

“Oh, so you can walk into a vampire’s nest all by yourself, but my driving is too much for you?”

He did slow down though. You spent the next thirty minutes driving in silence and then he pulled over in front of a motel.

“Come on”, he said and opened your car door for you.

“We’re stopping here?”

“It’s a five-hour drive to the bunker and you’re still bleeding”.

“I’m not bleeding…”

“Just get out of the car!”

You let out an annoyed sigh, but you listened to him. Truthfully, you were feeling a little dizzy. He booked a room for the two of you and practically carried you inside. He placed you on the bed, took out the first-aid kit from his car and started patching you up in silence.

You could tell by the look on his face that he was still angry, but his hands were gentle and careful. You were trying to think of something to say, something that would make things better, but nothing came to mind. You just observed him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes gloomy, but there was something else in them. Like a trace of… fear? Maybe.

You weren’t unaccustomed to Dean being mad at you and it was so easy to forget why he was that way. He cared. He cared more than anyone you’ve ever met. As much as you bickered, you knew he loved you in a way, and that he was simply scared to lose you.

“Dean…”, you tried again, “I’m sorry”.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. He just clenched his jaw harder. You took that as a sign he might actually let you speak now, so you kept going.

“I know I shouldn’t have left like that, and I know I screwed up. I thought I could help, you know? Charlie needed backup and you and Sam were busy… I just thought I shouldn’t let her go on a hunt by herself. I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted that either. I was just trying to do the right thing… Like you would’ve!”.

His eyes finally met yours. He wasn’t that angry anymore, but he was annoyed at your words.

“You are not me!”, he finally said.

Ouch.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, maybe so, but any backup is better than no back up!”, you defended yourself, “And if it weren’t for me, Charlie would’ve gotten a lot worse than a broken leg!”

At your surprise, he chuckled. Now you were the one who was starting to get angry.

“Don’t laugh at me!”, you said firmly, “You are looking at me like I’m some kind of idiot! Or an amateur! I know I may not have been raised a hunter like you and Sam, but I’ve been through a lot worse than what happened today! I fought by your side against Lucifer and Lilith and Eve and Dick friggin’ Roman! I’ve saved your ass personally multiple times! I’ve been dead! I’ve been to hell! I’m not some stupid civilian, Dean! After everything that happened, I’m… I’m a hunter! Weather you like it or not! Weather I like it or not! I might not be your calibre of a hunter but…”

“Woah, woah, slow down, hunter!”, he raised his hands defensively, “That’s not what I meant!”

You blinked in a surprise.

“Then what exactly did you mean?”, you asked, still frustrated at his tone.

He let out a silent groan.

“Listen, I know you are good at the job. I know you are tough and can handle yourself. Even though today was a bust”, he added in accusatory tone.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you.

“But when I say you are not me…”, he shook his head, searching for the right words. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect himself and finally spoke again, in a calmer tone.

“Listen, I screw up too! Hell, I’ve screwed up more times than I can count! And you’re right, you’ve saved my ass a lot! So have Sam and dad and Bobby… but if something happens to me, then that’s on me! That’s my own friggin’ fault! But it’s my job to protect you! And if something happens to you… I just couldn’t live with that!”

You listened to him in silence, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying to you. A part of you understood. The guilt, the responsibility he was feeling. You wanted to help him. To help him with that weight he was carrying. To tell him everything is ok and that you understand. But all that came out of your mouth was:

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dean”.

He flinched. Something twinkled in his green eyes and his voice turned cold again.

“I get it, I’m sure you would much rather have Sammy watching over you but I’m afraid I’m all you can get right now!”.

You raised your eyebrows in a surprise.

“What?”, it was all you were able to say.

“Listen, I know you two have something going on and the last thing I want is to get in the way of that, sweetheart”.  

You shook your head, and a small smile appeared on your lips before you could stop it.

Is that what this was? This entire tantrum? Was Dean Winchester… jealous?

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about”, you said sincerely.

“Sure”, he replied.

“Dean… Sam and I… we’re friends, that’s all! I mean I love him, he’s like a brother to me. Like a big, nerdy, dorky brother I’ve always wanted! And I’d do anything for him, just like you would. But… I could never be with him!”, you made a grimace and laughed.

“Yeah, okay”, he said.

“Why don’t you believe me?”, you laughed out loud this time. You just couldn’t stop it. This entire conversation was so bizarre.

“Because I’m not blind. He’s the one you always turn to when you need something, he’s the one you always call, text, talk to… hell, you left him a note today, didn’t you?”.

“Well, yes…”

“Like I said, I get it! I’m not trying to be a dick!”, he said, “It’s fine by me if you have a thing for each other, I’m glad even… you both deserve to be happy! All I’m saying is, it would be nice to get a heads up when you’re about to do something stupid, especially if I’m the one who’s gonna end up having to save you!”.

“Dean Winchester, I promise you I’m not trying to screw your brother!”, you yelled out,

“The reason I left him a note and not you is because I knew you were going to act like this! You would tell me to turn my ass around and come back home and if I didn’t you would come to get me, just like you did! And THEN you would yell at me just like you did! I’m not picking favourites, it’s just that Sam is easier to deal with sometimes, that’s all!”

“Oh, so I’m difficult to deal with, is that it?”

“Hell yes, you are!”

“So why do you keep dealing with me?”

“Oh, you’re such a damn idiot!”, you stood up from the bed in exasperation.

It was a mistake. The blood rushed to your brain, and you swerved on your feet. He jumped up and grabbed your shoulders with jungle cat-like reflexes. The look on his face went from irritated to worried in a matter of a second. It made you want to chuckle, but you held it in.

Goddamn, did you love this man.

“I’m fine, I’m fine”, you said quickly.

His eyes and voice both softened as he tried to get you back on the bed,

“Maybe you should get some rest. We can keep arguing in the morning”.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Why do you want to keep arguing with me?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s the last thing I want to do with you”.

Your heart stopped for a second. Your eyes widened and you looked at him in shock.

“Excuse you?”

He let out another sigh and tried to sit you down once again.

“Nothing, just go to sleep”.

“No, no, no, I don’t think so”, you said, shaking your head and turning around to face him, “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying crap. Don’t pay attention to it”.

But you wouldn’t let go. It’s been months since you first started noticing the change in Dean’s behaviour towards you. When you first met, he annoyed you so much and as far as you could tell, the feeling was mutual. You really were closer with Sam for a long time and the only reason you tolerated Dean was because he was his brother. And because well, he did save your life a couple of times. But then you died and came back and Dean, well… changed. You thought it was because of the guilt he felt over your death. Metatron did kill you because of your involvement with the Winchesters.

But it wasn’t just the guilt. You two started going on hunts together, he trusted you, he talked to you and looked at you like he’s never done before. You started suspecting he might have developed feelings for you that were more than just friendship, but there wasn’t an opportunity to bring it up. And you wanted to bring it up. You wanted to bring it up so badly.

“No!”, you protested and looked directly into his eyes, “What did you mean? What do you want to do with me?”, you asked, almost teasingly, but with a genuine desire to receive an answer.

He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes twinkled. His hands were still gently resting on your shoulders, making sure you don’t swerve again. He raised one of them and slowly brought his fingers up to caress your cheek. His touch was soft and warm, but it made a shiver go down your spine as if you were touched by lightning. You raised up your hand and gently placed it on his in affirmation. A small smile escaped both of your lips’.

You were still glaring into his eyes, waiting for him. Finally, his hand cupped your cheek and he brought his face to yours, slowly pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was deep and gentle and warm, and it left you feeling breathless. You pulled him closer to you, running your fingers through his hair. He responded in the same way, sliding his hands down your waist and grabbing your thighs to lift you off the ground. You locked your legs around him as he carried you over to the table that was placed in the middle of the room.

He placed you on the table as his hands began exploring every inch of your body, his lips never leaving yours. Before you could even form a coherent thought, his hands were all up in your hair, over your chest, your thighs… In the moment they reached between your legs you let out a soft moan and arched your back, leaving your neck so beautifully exposed to him. He took advantage of that and moved his lips down to your collarbone, gently kissing and sucking on it. You pulled him even closer and moaned again. His scent was everywhere. He was everywhere. And it wasn’t enough.

You started to unbutton your plaid shirt but his fingers were quicker than yours.

You smiled at his impatience.

“It’s okay, the buttons won’t run away”, you said.

“I wish they would”, he muttered, making you laugh joyfully.

He smiled and kissed you again, unbuttoning your shirt completely and taking it off you in one fell swoop.

You tried to unbutton his now, but he was already out of it before you could even try.

“God”, you teased him, “You’re so impatient!”

“You have no idea”, he groaned, lifting you up again and crashing you both onto the bed.

He was placing hungry kisses all over your chest and stomach. His fingers then reached down to unbutton your jeans and you shivered in excitement as he slowly pulled them off you.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart”, he said in a low tone, his eyes looking up to you as they were glistening with excitement and desire.

You bit your lip as you felt another shiver go down your spine.

“Open them”, he repeated.

You did what he asked, slowly spreading your legs as you felt the wetness and the pulsating sensation coming from between.

He gently moved the fabric of your underwear to a side, exposing you to him. His hungry eyes met yours once again as he gave you a soft kiss right between your thighs. You arched your back slightly and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him closer as he kissed and licked and sucked.

“These are getting in the way”, he said quietly and finally took off your panties.

You couldn’t help yourself and another moan left your lips, much louder this time. This encouraged him to go faster as you were becoming a moaning mess underneath his tongue. The pressure started building and building and building… and then he suddenly pulled away.

You widened your eyes in shock, desperate to pull him back down, but he pulled you up instead.

“I’m not done with you yet”, he said quietly as his breath tickled your ear.

You groaned in frustration.

“Now who’s impatient?”, he asked with a teasing smile.

“God, you’re so mean!”, you said.

“We’ll see about that”, he said as he reached down between your legs again and started rubbing your clit. He then slowly pushed one finger inside of you, stretching you out and earning another moan from you.

“Oh, God”, you whispered.

“You like that?”, he asked and added another finger.

You moaned again in response.

“Am I still mean?”

“Yes, you are!”, you responded.

He pushed you back on the bed while placing himself on top of you. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. You reached out and gently cupped the growing bulge in his boxers making him groan quietly. You gasped in excitement. He was so hard.

He noticed your reaction and smiled.

“You see how hard I am for you?”

You bit your lip and nodded. Then you slowly pulled down his boxers and took him into your hands.

You’ve imagined him like this countless times, but you were still pleasantly surprised to see how big he was. You gripped him firmly and began to stroke his shaft as he groaned again.

You licked the tip and then put the rest of his length into your mouth, gently sucking on it. He moaned and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

You sucked harder causing him to cuss and moan again. You loved the sound of it. Your fingers found their way between your legs, and you began touching yourself as you sucked him off.

He seemed to like that even more and by the sounds he was making you could tell he was close.

“You’re going to need to slow down, sweetheart”, he said in a hoarse voice, “Or I’m going to cum without even being inside you first”.

You sucked on him a couple more times but then you let go. He pulled you up to kiss you, but you just pushed him down to the bed and climbed on top of him. His eyes widened in excitement as you guided his length to your entrance and slowly began to ride him.

You loved seeing him like this, messy and desperate for your touch. He gripped your thighs and moaned your name, his eyes staring deep into yours, begging you to fuck him harder.

You gave him what he wished for and began moving your hips faster and faster as you both cussed and groaned.

“Yes, yes”, he was whispering between the moans, “That’s it, ride me baby, please!”.

You were so close, and by the looks of it, so was he. You gripped each other closer as the pressure was building once again. You pulled his face close to your chest as he was about to come and finally, reached the so very anticipated release.

You held each other like that for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths and then you finally laid back in the bed.

He pulled you close to him as you buried your face into his neck, just breathing in his scent. You were laying like that in silence for a little while, not really knowing what to say. Not really needing to say anything. Until he finally started chuckling like a little kid.

“What?”, you raised your eyes to him. “Well, do you wanna keep arguing now?”, he asked with a grin. You laughed too. “Oh, definitely! Just let me get some water first”.

[kabr0ztrousers]

ngl kinda just need oviposition with ftm reader. thats all LMAO

An FtM reader? A little tricky seeing I don't have any lived experience in that field, but this series was about pushing myself in new creative directions, so let's see what happens!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 35: Interdiction

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: oviposition; noncon; brainwashing; weird science; loss of property; alien abduction; kidnap; forced impregnation; inflation; egg inflation

A/N: Another sci-fi story because I did a feral egging scene recently, and while that's pretty hot variety really is the spice of life. I'm also couching this one in the world of Elite, so that's fun.

Still taking the time to remind you all that requests are free and open, I have a bit of a backlog after yesterday to work through but if you ask for something, it'll probably happen!

#####################################

Exit Frameshift in three, two, one...

Bang. You pulled hard on the stick, steering away from the star and zeroing the throttle. The reality of supercruise means you're still moving at about 30 klicks a second, but that's as close to stationary when considering distances measured in light-seconds. You steered to your next jump vector and rose from your flight seat. Not best practice, your engine emissions a beacon across the whole system, but you're well past the pirate belt in uncharted space. The only contacts you'll see out here are either enterprising extreme-range miners or the desperate pirates preying on them, even they're vanishingly rare.

Space is big. Really big. Even a star system is small in comparison. There's a good chance nobody's ever been here before.

The thought comforted you as you rehydrated some food and applied your hormones. You thought back to home: a dump of a refinery station in the middle of Alliance space. You'd watch the spacers in the huge type-9 haulers bring in kilotons of ore at a time. You'd tried flying freight. The money's good, and there's no passengers to annoy you, but the trade routes were samey and the pirates were always hungry for a mark. You did exactly as much as you needed to kit out your Diamondback and set off for Beagle Point. They say reaching the end of everything changes you. You needed to see for yourself.

You never made it there.

Halfway through your tray of food-flavoured protein paste your instrument panel lit up. Something was flying hard up your tailpipe, probably not friendly.

You hit the leather of the flight chair and gunned the throttle, wrestling the interdiction beam threatening to pull you out of supercruise. You were moving too slow, and the other ship had the headstart on you. Lights dimmed and smoke rose from your console as your FSD struggled to dump heat into the rest of the ship. You'd lost main power, battery backups kicked in to maintain air as you craned to see what had caught you.

You couldn't see the ship so much as see where it blotted out stars. A great dark silhouette threatening to crush you in its absence of form.

A great maw opened on the surface of the object, drawing nearer to you. Your docking computer flared to life and started calculating vectors, bringing you in to land even as you struggled to disengage it. The whole ship jolted as you touched down, almost throwing you from your seat.

You grabbed a pulse rifle and flipped your table, it wasn't much cover, but it'd have to do.

Splintering glass. You flew backwards in a rush of wind as the cockpit depressurised, the emergency helmet in your flight suit deploying around your head, just before something hit you, and you lost consciousness.

You awoke connected to monitors, a tube sticking down your throat. Two large reptilian... men? were talking. You assume they were talking, and assume they were men. They were heavily built, upright, bipedal, and wore long white gowns, the purplish light in the room casting them in faint lavender.

They looked at you. One clipped a smooth piece of metal to the side of its face

"Greetings, you have been captured" The alien's voice was strangely familiar.

It was the voice from the Galnet broadcasts

"Where am I? What have you done with my ship? You tried to pull the tube from your mouth, but your hands were restrained to the slab you were lay on.

"Your vessel has been disassembled for study. Your technology and biology has been categorised."

Your heart broke. That ship was your pride and joy, you knew every inch of it, and now it's gone. You slumped back, staring up at the ceiling as the newsreader voice continued.

"We have identified that your biology is acceptable to host our eggs. This is the reason you have been revived. Implantation has a greater success rate when the subject is not anaesthetised"

You jolted up. Eggs? The fuck?

The lizards approached you. You could see now their robes were open at the front revealing their bodies. They were each holding scissors.

They cut you out of your clothes. First opening the reinforced kevlar of your flight suit as though it was tissue paper, then snipping through your binder and boxers revealing your naked, hairy body.

One placed a metal disk on your midriff, where you felt it stick. They pressed a button on a control pad and electricity started pulsing through you. Your hair stood on end as your nipples hardened and your cunt moistened, your bulbous clit standing erect. The lizards looked at one another, and their hands fell upon you. Two fingers were shoved down your throat, making you gag as the other set to work on your pussy. Both ends of you were being worked, forced to produce fluids and lubricate you for what was to come. The throat slime rising in your mouth and the insistent fingertips on your slit. The one at your pussy grabbed your clit between two fingers and started jerking it, rubbing the hood over your tdick.

Your struggling against your bonds turned to writhing in pleasure, bucking your hips against the lizard's hand. Its fingers pushed inside you and started pumping, his other hand still jacking you off. You couldn't resist sucking on the fingers in your mouth as your orgasm washed over you, moaning around the hand in your mouth and squirting thin fluid from your cunt at the alien servicing you. The hands released you. You held your mouth open and presented your cunt to them, eager for more.

You could see cocks emerging from the slots on their crotches, dripping fluid and pulsing.

They fell upon you. In a flash your cunt was filled, your clit grinding against the rough scales on the lizard's belly. The other lizard followed suit, burying himself in your throat. His precum was sour and slimy, easily lubricating him as he pounded into your mouth and throat. The tube seemed to be to breathe through, otherwise you'd definitely pass out on the rod forcing its way down.

You could feel another orgasm pressing against you, making your cunt clench against the cock inside you as the lizard's thrusting rubbed your clit. The device on your belly pulsed harder and you heard both of the reptiles grunt in anticipation. They could clearly feel it too, fucking your holes even harder and filling you with that slimy pre. The pulses made you ache. You kept humping against the cock in your cunt, tongue sticking out to lick at the one in your throat even as it ravaged you. One of them grabbed your tits, rubbing your erect nipples and pushing you over the edge.

Your body twisted as you clenched and squirted all over the one in your pussy. Your eyes defocused and crossed. Both lizards hilted in you at once, the lewd sounds you kept making clearly pushing them over the edge.

The bases of their cocks expanded, locking them in. One pushed against the entrance of your womb, the other halfway down your throat. They started to throb and pulse, twitching as the lizards groaned. You felt thick cum flood you before solid objects started moving down them. One after another, eggs pushed into you, bulging your belly and pressing up against one another.

Your skin stretched until the metal device popped off you. The cloud of desire lifted from you and you tried to scream, wheezing down the tube leading into your airway until one of the aliens grabbed it and pressed it against your ass.

You almost orgasmed again when it started back up, each egg driving a wave of excitement and arousal through your body as they flowed into your womb and your stomach.

You were bulging and round when they pulled out, gravid and pregnant with dozens and dozens of eggs. The one at your pussy slapped your ass when he pulled out, the sudden shock sending another firecracker-orgasm through you, making you whimper and twitch, unable to move for the volume of eggs in you

The lizards left the room, and you felt numbness flow through you again, surrendering yourself to drugged sleep

You never did reach Beagle Point

#################################

I feel like I was able to keep the Elite technobabble to a minimum here, most of the terms are pretty self-explanatory and no worse than Trek can be

Either way, my research has shown that if I remind you at the top and bottom of an episode to send an ask if you have a request, I get traction. So please, if there's something you want me to try out, revisit, reimagine, or you just want to send a dirty picture, my asks and DMs are open and I'm always hungry for ideas!

[hamzahsbaby]

when dealer!hamzah got in a fight right before picking you up for date night ♡ ݁ ˖

you sat waiting at your vanity; your hair and makeup were freshly done, you had on your new black dress you’d bought specifically for tonight, and you even had a new fresh set on your nails. you admired yourself in the mirror for a good minute, taking some photos, even snapping a selfie for your insta story.

it wasn’t unusual for hamzah to be running a little late, it’s something you got used to, but he was definitely a little behind schedule even for him. just when you were about to shoot him a text, your phone lit up — incoming call from hammie :3

“baby?” he said, his voice was low and sad, you’d never heard him with such a inexpressive tone before. the hum of his truck’s engine was loud in the back. “i’m so sorry- i’m on the way right now. i should have called sooner.” you straightened your posture in your vanity chair, confused as to what was going on. “hamzah? what’s going on?”

you heard a loud sigh through the other end, like hamzah didn’t wanna say anything but he couldn’t bare to lie to you. “i got in a fight.” there was another pause, but you let him continue before jumping to conclusions. “some dude tryna short me on a drop. he pulled out a blade but i’m okay. i handled it.”

“what?!” you stood up, pacing around your room.

“i know i know. i fucked up baby, i’m sorry. i should have just walked away.” hamzah never thought he’d be apologizing for getting in a fight, not after he had always prided himself on standing his ground. but after the countless times you’d told him ‘baby, you can’t keep doing this.’ he felt guilt pool up in his stomach like cement. he never wanted to let you down and he feels like he really did this time. “i didn’t wanna ruin tonight,” he continued, tears even threatening to spill from his eyes but he wiped them before they could fall on their own. “i know how excited you were. i saw your post baby, you look beautiful.”

your lips parted, “just come over. we can spend the night here.”

“what? no. what about dinner baby?” hamzah pleaded. “i don’t care about dinner hamzah. i want to make sure you’re okay.” you sighed.

“are you sure?”

“yes hamzah, i’m sure.” you already started making your way to your bathroom to find your first aid kit. “okay. i’ll be there soon baby.” you hung up the phone, immediately changing into some comfier clothes.

when hamzah got to your house you realized how bad this fight really was; dried blood scattered all across his knuckles and he had a bruised and swollen eye. “you were still trying to go to dinner like this?” you giggled. “anything for you girl.” hamzah sat at the edge of your tub, legs spread and head stretched back as you cleaned him up. “okay so, how about you stop getting in fights. for me?”

“i’m really sorry baby.” hamzah leaned forward, his arms wrapped around your waist and forehead rested on your stomach. “i was looking forward to dinner.”

“me too.” you pet his hair and leaned down to give him a kiss on the head. “but i’d rather have you here in one piece instead of sitting across me pretending to not be in pain.”

“i’m not in pain.” hamzah squeezed you tighter. “quit lying and go lay in my bed. i’ll order us some food and we can watch that one show you like.” you pulled away from his embrace, cleaning up the array of bandaids and cotton balls. “you’re too good to me.”

[giuseppe-yuki]

who is that?

max verstappen x ragdoll cat shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.9k

warnings: suggestive content, curse words, jealous!max

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: who is that cat that max is playing with in the rb garage that is not you?

picture credits from pinterest :)

sitting on an elevated ball cat bed that was custom designed with max’s emblem on the side, it wasn’t hard to see that you were a little spoiled. hell, you even had your own minifridge stocked with fresh fish, veggies, fruit, and meat that max specifically ordered for you. at first, you had advocated against having your little corner of the red bull garage, not wanting to take up too much space, but max had convinced not only you but also christian to build the little cat corner, because who could ever say no to a three-time world champion? 

now, you were sitting daintily on the soft cushion of the bed, watching max finish the last of his fp1 laps. to no one’s surprise, he had the quickest time, being faster than charles by a third of a second. 

feeling a bit hungry, you let out a few mewls, sending a few of the engineers scurrying your way. ha, you thought. i have them wrapped around my finger. 

“you hungry, little kitty?” one of the engineer asks, petting your head. 

you blink your signature blue ragdoll cat eyes at her.

immediately, she jumps up, and strolls to your mini fridge. gingerly, she takes out some pre-prepared raw chicken out of the refrigerator, along with a couple of strawberries. after cutting up both items into small enough pieces with scissors stored on the side of the fridge, she sets the food in a small bowl in front of your cat bed. 

you jump off your elevated bed and walk a few laps around the engineer’s legs, rubbing your fur against her legs in a show of appreciation. the other engineers all coo in adoration, tilting their heads and smiling at you. you approach the bowl on the ground and gobble down the chicken and strawberries, quick. 

deciding you want pets now, you hop into another engineer’s lap and purr, which evokes him to start scratching your chin. but before he could give you any more pets, max pulls into the garage along with checo, signaling to you that fp1 was over. the engineer sets you back on the ground to start assessing the rb20 with everyone else. 

to your left, hannah schimtz strolls in from the pitlane, one hand clutching her headpiece and another holding a clipboard. you pad over to her through the chaos of the garage and jump onto her leg. she chuckles before setting down her things on a counter and picking you up. she gives you a few pats on the head, earning her a meow of happiness from you. gianpiero lambiase appears out of nowhere next to hannah, but you don’t mind as he starts stroking your fur. you nuzzle into hannah’s team kit in gratitude. 

when you lift your head and look across the room, you see your boyfriend has already gotten out of his car and standing next to checo. checo is animatedly talking with his hands, occasionally gesturing towards his car, but max is not looking at him. he stares directly at you in hannah’s arms, cool blue eyes staring you down. its filled with a familiar fondness, but it is also tinted with an emotion you don’t see often- jealousy. 

he turns and walks towards you, leaving checo looking at his retreating figure with a confused look on his face. (poor checo, you think.) 

“i’m going to hold my cat now,” he says pointedly to hannah, emphasizing the “my”. he snatches you out of hannah’s arms and holds you gently to his chest. you think you can hear his heartbeat through his sweaty fireproofs. 

turning on his heel, he yanks the driver radio earbuds out of his ear, one-handedly throws it on the counter behind his car, grabs you tight, and bolts out of the garage towards his driver room. 

“don’t you think that was a little much back there, maxie?” you question, lifting your head off his chest and peering at him. 

“umm, no, not really,” your boyfriend says. he squeezes you closer to him on the bed in his driver’s room, tangling your legs together.

you thread your fingers into max’s, using your other hand to fiddle with his fan-made mv1 bead bracelets and trace the patterns on his silver cartier bracelet. “if i may,” you start, lips close to the shell of his ear, “i would say…you were a little jealous back there- snatching me out of hannah’s arms. i just wanted a few pets, that’s all.” 

he pouts, scrunching his nose. he pulls himself away from you and adjusts himself on the bed, laying on his side and propping one hand on the side of his head. you can see the dark spots on his pillow where his head was, leftover droplets of water from getting out of the shower. he adjusts the simple black shirt that he pulled from his drawers a few minutes ago, and blinks at you innocently. 

“no i wasn’t,” he defends himself. “i just simply wanted to hold my pretty girlfriend after racing hard on the track after fp1.” 

you roll your eyes. “sure baby,” you giggle. he was such a lousy liar. it was kind of cute seeing him jealous though. you lean closer to him, laser focused on his soft lips. “just know that you’re the only person that can do this-” 

before you can put your glossy lips on his, max’s phone starts to buzz. 

he curses, pulling out his phone. “who the fuck is calling me?” 

the caller id lights up, showing the words ‘christian horner’ in blaring white letters. 

he scrambles off the bed, and turns to you. “i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he says apologetically. “i will be back, though.” he gives you a wink before walking out of the room.

lying on the bed by yourself, fix your hair a bit before pausing. “no way christian fucking horner just cockblocked me!” you say aloud, giggling to yourself.

two hours before fp2 starts, you find yourself in the paddock bathroom. you smooth down your hair, reapply your makeup, and start smothering lipgloss on your lips when you hear a voice behind you. 

“hey there, you’re max’s girlfriend, right?” a girl in a pretty patterned tube top and jeans smiles at you, tilting her head in question. 

“oh, yes, that’s me!” you respond, smiling back at her. before she can respond, you reach your hand out, and pluck a white feather off the back of her top. “you had a feather stuck on the back of your top by the way,” you explain to her, tossing it in the trash can next to the sinks. 

“haha thanks, i have no idea how that got there!” she says, scratching her head. she then reaches out her hand. “i’m oscar’s girlfriend by the way. nice to meet you!”

you strike up a conversation while she touches up her own makeup, even exchanging numbers. 

she was in the middle of explaining a funny story how she apparently “stole water” from the red bull motorhome when she pauses and points to a spot near your shoulder. 

“there’s like a pretty big bruise on your shoulderblade!” she says concerningly. “is everything alright?” 

you look at yourself in the mirror, and sure enough is a bruise, small enough to not be seen from far away, but too big to cover up unnoticeably. god, you were gonna kill max on sight. 

you struggle to come up with an appropriate excuse to tell oscar’s girlfriend. “i- um was kind of clumsy and bumped into a shelf in max’s driver’s room, and like- a giant vase art piece thingy fell on me!” 

she gasps in shock, “omg, what? i hope you’re okay now!”

you nod your head quickly. “yeah, i’m totally fine,” you say. “the vase didn’t even hurt that much.” 

after covering the hickey bruise with at least a half a gallon of concealer, you hurry over to the red bull garage. max must be a little worried, considering you were gone a little longer than expected because you were talking to oscar’s girlfriend. to your surprise, max is sitting on one of the data analyst’s chair, dangling a toy fish on a string over the head of a ragdoll cat. the cat bats at it, meowing.

“what the actual fuck are you doing? and who is that?” you burst out, marching over to max. this better be a prank, you think to yourself.

to your surprise, there is not a hint of held-back laughter on max’s face- only shock. “wait what?” he says, stunned. “if you’re here..then who is…?” he trails off. the cat sits on the ground between you both, blinking its blue eyes innocently. 

GP walks up to you and max, not noticing both of your shocked faces. he bends down and picks up the cat, cooing. “i know one of the engineers fed her earlier, but you don’t mind if i feed this one a bit of fish do you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer before stalking off to the fridge with the cat. 

you turn to max, eyes blazing. 

“i swear! i thought that was you!” he whispers to you frantically.

by the time fp2 was over, you were already back in max’s driver room. the door busts open, and in runs a sweaty max. he starts rambling (or should i say maxplaining?) the second the door is open- “omg, baby where is the cat? after fp2, i talked to gp and he said that you left with ten minutes left in fp2 with the cat? please please please tell me you did not kill the cat, i swear i did not know that it was not you! it was a random stray cat that somehow found its way into the paddock! i won’t even touch another cat ever again please?” 

he turns the corner of his driver’s room to find you in your cat form snuggling on the bed with a sleeping ragdoll cat. you turn to blink your glittering blue eyes at him while keeping a paw protectively around the other cat. 

your boyfriend sits down on the couch, relief oozing out of him. he gives both of you some head scratches. “i really thought you took the cat and killed it or something,” he exclaims. he then heads to the mini cooler next to his rack of race suits and pops open a can of red bull. when he turns back around, you are now sat next to the cat, running your hands over its soft fur.

“you really think i would do that, maxie?” you say, raising an eyebrow. 

he goes back into panic mode, trying to defend himself. “no, no, no, i just meant-”

you cut him off, laughing. “relax, baby, i’m just messing with you. besides, i think we have a new member in our family now! what should we name him?” 

max sighs with relief, and comes to sit next to you on the bed. he says the first name that pops into his mind. “how about we name him jimmy?” 

you raise your eyebrow for the second time. “jimmy?” you say incredulously. “you want to name the cat jimmy?”

“okay, okay,” he says, holding his hands up. “how about…sassy? that cat was really sassy with me when i found it in the garage! that’s why i thought it was you!” 

“what is that supposed to mean?” you say bewilderedly. 

before max can answer, the cat yawns loudly in your lap and nuzzles close to you.

“you know,” you remark, changing the subject,  “i’m honestly really glad you found this little kitty.” you lean over and give max a peck on the lips, tasting a hint of red bull. 

an idea hits you. “hey, why don’t we name him redbull?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @madkohi @ralshatos

[nanenna]

A Brief Look from a Different Angle

Going back in time just a little to have a look from a different PoV.

Sleepy King masterpost

---

Jazz flung open the door to the basement so forcefully it nearly bounced right back into her face. “Mom! Dad!”

“Jazz?” Mom asked curiously from below as Jazz descended the basement stairs. “Sweetie, come look! We think we got the new settings for the blasters set correctly.”

“Mom, where's Danny?” Jazz asked in a tight voice.

“Isn't he with you?” Mom asked warily, looking past Jazz to where she was flanked by Sam and Tucker.

“Did he wander off after school?” Dad suggested cheerfully.

“School's not over yet, we left early because Danny never made it to school this morning. Didn't they call you?” Jazz had thought it was weird the school office had called her at all, especially when she was at the very same school when they had.

Her parents frowned as they pulled their phones from their pockets. “No missed calls,” Mom said.

Dad turned to the computer, “Not the house line either. But there were a couple readings last night, perhaps Danny slept in?”

“I called him on the Fenton phone, you'll never guess who answered.” Jazz gave her parents a moment to turn their full attention back to her. “Superman.”

“Oh, well they're the good guys so he's safe at least, right?” Dad asked cheerfully.

“What did Superman say, honey?”

“He said Danny had been kidnapped and rescued, but has some sort of magical side effects the Justice League is working to fix before sending him home. He wouldn't tell me any more details, not who kidnapped him, not what the side effects are, not when he'll be home, nothing.”

“And they didn't inform you, his parents,” Sam added on.

“I'm worried they don't know about Danny’s ghost status and might accidentally hurt him trying to cure him of whatever,” Tucker added, still tapping away at his modified tablet.

“Well that's just unacceptable,” Mom said angrily.

“Right!” Dad agreed eagerly. “We're his parents and he's still a minor, we should be there to approve of his medical treatment!”

Jazz was already heading over to the corner to collect ol’ reliable: the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick™. “They said he's at one of the JL bases.”

Everyone turned to look at Tucker. “Their security is pretty tight, as to be expected, but as always there's social engineering. One of the JL members is complaining in a private discord server about still being on monitor duty on the Watchtower despite it currently being on lockdown for unspecified magical reasons.”

“The Watchtower?” Dad asked.

“Isn't that in space?” Sam sounded incredulous.

“Danny must be so excited,” Mom said with a fond sigh.

“How do we get to space?” Jazz asked forcefully.

Everyone looked around at each other for a moment. “The specter speeder is air tight,” Dad suggested.

“We can go through the ‘Zone,” Jazz added, already digging through the benign supply storage.

“Ask Frostbite for the infi-map?” Tucker suggested.

“Or we just use this!” Jazz triumphantly held up the booo-merang.

There was a resounding sound of approval from the group, followed by a flurry of activity as everyone set about getting ready to travel to space. Mom had taken over the pilot’s seat for the specter speeder, Dad was clearing away everything they had been working on to give the speeder a clear runway, Sam and Tucker were gathering up various ‘just in case’ supplies like a few weapons and the emergency ghost first aid kit, and all the while Jazz was double checking the booo-merang was properly calibrated and battery charged. Once everyone was in place and everything set up, Jazz threw the booo-merang at the open portal and hopped into the speeder so they could take off after it.

Once through, Dad activated the new remote to close the blast doors behind them. No chance of anyone sneaking through while they’re away. A new safety feature that had drastically reduced the number of ghost attacks. Danny had been delighted. Jazz had been upset it took so long for their parents to listen to her concerns when she’d brought up the portal’s security a year prior, shortly after finding out about Danny’s ghostliness.

Jazz mentally shook those thoughts away, no use retreading old ground. Instead she kept her eyes on the booo-merang as it flew through the Ghost Zone, lazily spinning along at a pace that was pretty easy for the speeder to keep up with.

“It sure is taking a while,” Tucker said with a bored sigh.

“We'll get there when we get there,” Sam replied with a grin.

They lapsed back into silence, everyone watching the booo-merang leading them further and further into the ‘Zone. Then it suddenly took a sharp left at the same time it doubled its speed. The boo-merang slipped through a portal that seemed to open and close just for it.

The speeder rocked as Maddie tried to follow the sudden course change, then cursed when they missed the portal.

“Welp,” Tucker said tiredly, “guess we head to the Far Frozen to ask for the infi-map.”

Sam snickered, “Bet you fifty it hit him in the head.”

“That's not a bet, that's a guarantee.”

“Hey!” Jazz protested.

Before Jazz could properly defend herself, a portal opened right in front of them. They ended up on the other side before anyone could do more than gasp.

“Is that… the Watchtower?” Mom asked hesitantly.

“I think so,” Tucker replied.

There, floating before them backed by a field of stars,was a matte gray tube with more tubes attached around it covered with windows leaking buttery yellow light into the void.

“Okay, so now what?”

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed what had just happened. Danny was inside and they were outside, they needed to find their way in and then somehow find Danny without their only tracking device. Great.

The radio came to life with a burst of static. “This is the Watchtower to the unknown vessel, please identify yourself.”

“Great, guess we can't sneak on,” Sam groused.

“Like that was ever even an option,” Tucker replied sarcastically.

“Kids!” Dad chided. Then he started fiddling with various knobs, “How do we reply?”

Mom frowned, “I'm not sure we can.”

“Something to upgrade for next time!”

“Hopefully there won't be a next time,” Jazz muttered.

“Still, it’s best to be prepared,” Dad said jovially. The radio spit more static and garbled requests for identification.

“Perhaps we should just… approach? They probably have an airlock or something we can use.” Mom gently nudged the speeder forward, heading slowly towards the Watchtower.

“Hopefully they don’t think we’re hostile,” Tucker grumbled.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got ghost shields!” Dad said enthusiastically with a finger hovering over a button.

“Dad, the Justice League doesn’t have any ghosts,” Jazz reminded him with a sigh. She shook her head, her parents were a little too specialized. Maybe this would help them realize they lost sight of the broader picture.

“Well hopefully it’ll stop whatever that is,” Tucker said nervously, pointing at where a small white dot was growing larger as it approached them.

The dot turned out to be a man wearing a white half cape, the red and gold coming into focus as he got closer. Clearly he was some kind of superhero, since he wasn’t even wearing a helmet or space suit. Jazz narrowed her eyes at him, “Is that Superman?”

“No,” Sam and Tucker said at the same time. Tucker took over, “That’s Captain Marvel, the champion of magic. Not related to Superman at all, aside from being coworkers I guess.”

“Good for him.” Jazz readjusted her grip on the anti-creep stick.

Captain Marvel slowed down as he got closer, stopping a few yards away. He smiled and waved, everyone waved back. Then he beckoned for them to follow.

“How nice, they sent someone to lead the way.” Mom maneuvered the speeder to follow, matching the easy pace Captain Marvel set.

“Hold on, Danny, we’re coming,” Jazz murmured, gripping the anti-creep stick tight.

[besteyeclinicinnoida]

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[stellewriites]

every minute, every hour, every day

trans!butch!simon x reader, pure fluff & comfort

part of @fairyboygenius’ sapphic week prompts! was very excited to take part in this :3

chosen prompt: june 20th u-haul & butchify a cod character

it felt like the world was against you moving in with si.

you could only take so many coincidences before you started seeing a pattern and that morning, there had been enough to count on both hands.

the truck had been a nightmare to organise in the first place when the company fucked up your booking date last minute and refused to give you a truck in the morning until si threatened to come down there and give them a piece of her mind.

after heavily censoring a message from si to the desk clerk, you were able to get a truck, just a good hour and a half later than planned. it was also clearly an older model, not that you or si would care, but you sniffed at how much it’d be costing you.

you’d then trapped your hand under the heavy sofa when you’d tried to help si lift it onto the u-haul truck, yelping in pain until she was able to ease it off again and you could slip it close to your chest protectively with a wince. she’d checked it over and wrapped it as soon as you were back upstairs in your flat with the first aid kit, but the ache stayed for the rest of the day.

after hoping that would be the end of your bad luck, si had tried carrying your record player you’d found at a garage sale along with two heavy boxes down the stairs to save time after your injury had you flagging. and despite your several warnings to go careful and offerings to still help, she promised she was capable so you left her be. those promises turned stale in her mouth when she tripped on the last step of the stairs and your record player went flying out of the wedged-open front door, smashing on the pavement.

you’d found her a few minutes later knelt and picking up the pieces with wide, worried eyes and you could only sigh, forcefully slow, through your nose.

when you finally had everything packed up and the keys returned to your now ex-landlord, you both got into the car with giddy smiles only to find that the a/c wasn’t working anymore.

you flicked at the buttons and temperature gauge until si shooed your hands away to do the same. you could’ve sworn it had worked on the drive over from the depot.

with no other option, the pair of you shrugged and set off with the windows wound all the way down instead.

no a/c wouldn’t be an issue on your average british day, even in the summer, but there had been an unexpected heatwave over the last week - fuck you climate change - and the pair of you were sweating buckets only ten minutes into the journey.

yeah, it really felt like everything was against you and the move.

not five minutes later, si pulled over into a sainsbury’s car park and hauled herself out with a huff, leaving you sat in the greenhouse of a front cab without a word. you frowned and waited her out, messing around with the music on your phone until you found a summer playlist from seven or so years back. there were a few old favourites you’d forgotten about and you tapped your foot along to them.

suddenly something cold landed on your legs and you sucked in a sharp breath as you picked it up reflexively.

a calippo…

your favourite ice lolly and just what you needed right then.

you grinned across at si and leant in for a chaste kiss, tasting the sweat from her upper lip despite the caution.

“thank you.”

she shrugged and stuck her unwrapped twister in her mouth before turning the engine back on and setting off back on the road.

you cut your eyes across to your girlfriend when you heard her humming along to a song and bit your lip to keep your smile from becoming too obvious. you knew this game.

if you waited her out without paying too much attention, she’d be singing at the top of her lungs in no time, but if you made a fuss too soon then she’d recede into her shell.

you started to sing along lightly, skipping a few lines here and there when you didn’t know them and to make sure si was getting louder alongside you.

you grinned and reached over to squeeze her thigh when your patience paid off and she started to sing off key with confidence, her voice harmonising in a cackle with yours as she drove along, your voices drowning out the music even as you sang the wrong lyrics.

the pair of you laughed when the song came to an end and at the first sign of a red light, she was leaning over to taste your orange ice lolly on your tongue.

the drive went a lot quicker after that. and unpacking went a lot smoother once you got to your new house, even with you insisting you could still help with your injured hand.

si made sure to stop what she was doing and kiss your knuckles gently every time she saw your face twist in pain when you put down another box in the living room.

you cooed and pouted until she’d lean in and kiss your lips too, snuggling into her chest when she went to kiss your crown as a third and final signature of love as you worked to put together your new home.

you watched her longingly in the evening when she tried to find the plates and cutlery in the incorrectly labelled boxes after you ordered takeaway for dinner. you knew then and there that you’d be spending the rest of your life with her if you had any say, no matter how many obstacles tried to get in your way.

“think we’ll have to use our ‘ands,” she hummed, defeated. her hands were on his hips as she looked over the boxes she was sure she’d packed them away in yesterday. a stray thought came to mind that if those had gone missing then god knows where her oestrogel was packed away among all of this; she’d need to find that again by morning.

you squeezed her around her waist tightly and smiled goofily into her sweaty shoulder.

at the press of teeth she peeked over her shoulder at you. “y’better not bite me.”

“no promises,” you whispered cheekily, but you only kissed her shoulder sweetly and sighed. “i love you so much.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

Part 4, chapter 2- The enduro

Warnings: fighting, mentions of blood…

Summary: between Rafe, your brother, the race, the kooks, you’re fed up with it all. But, things start to look up for you all after you’re invited to goat island by Wes Genrette.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Rafe took a deep sigh, his hands pulling at the plates of the guards on his chest. He turned away from JJ, glancing back up at you for a small moment, only to find you cheering on your brother and actively avoiding eye contact with him.

JJ’s jaw clenched at the sight, his annoyance growing. Rafe didn’t deserve you, and it wasn’t like he tried to even talk to you after a year and a half, after hurting you.

“Now it looks like we’re about to get started, so empty your bladders, fill up your cups. The enduro waits for no one.”

You watched John B walk over to Sarah, you quirking an eyebrow at the two. Wondering as to what they were talking about.

John B walked back over to the rest of bikes, but before he could reach them, Rafe stood up and stood in front of his bike.

“Oh shit.” You murmured, watching the exchange closely and nervously.

“What do you want, Rafe?”

“I mean, my dad went off with you and never came back. I didn’t forget that.” He nodded and gave John B a tight-lipped smile. “See in you in traffic, slick.”

John B rolled his eyes, watching him walk away.

“Check this out, looks like we got a late entrant. John B Routledge on a bucket of bolts. He’s gonna need a miracle.” The commentator spoke as John B got on his bike.

“Seems JJ’s outgunned. What do you think?”

“Way too outgunned.” You told her, shaking your head to yourself.

“I think we can hope Topper has a mechanical.”

“Foolproof plan.”

“Yo, JJ!” Topper called out, both John B and JJ turning to him. “Did you build that yourself from a kit?”

JJ shook his head, “It’s not about the bike, bro. You’ll see.”

“Right.” Topper chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that, pogue.”

JJ pulled his bandana over his nose, then put on his goggles and helmet, John B following.

“All right, guys. Listen up!” Ruthie shouted. “Race is to the old buoy and back. Other than that, no rules.” The crowd cheered and the riders got prepared. “All good? This is for all the money and respect! Go get it, y’all! Whoo!”

“On your marks!”

The engines revved, everyone watching the woman with her flag raised. “Get set!” She paused momentarily, before her and Ruthie shouted “Go!”

Everyone’s bikes kicked off, the sand trailing behind them. Everyone’s bike except for JJ’s, who’s got stuck in the sand.

“Oh, what the fuck?” You shouted, throwing your hands up. “I literally repaired this like yesterday. C’mon, JJ!” You shouted.

“Let’s go, baby, come on!” He spoke, finally kicking it, revving it and trying his best to catch up with the rest of them.

“Rafe cameron gets the hole shot, beats the pack out front, and, boy, he is blazing down the straightaway!”

“C’mon, Jay, c’mon.” You murmured to yourself, watching him inch closer to everyone, until he was right behind Topper, who swerved enough to fling sand right in his view.

Topper accelerated, going next to John B, moving his wheels closer to John B’s, almost knocking him off before he regained his balance.

“That was a dirty ass move!” You huffed.

Topper laughed at him, “Is that bike gonna make it?”

“Eat it, Topper!” John B raised his hand, shoving a middle finger in Toppers face. He revved his bike in a futile attempt to get farther, but Topper revved his bike, getting into second place behind Rafe.

Your nerves were shot, your eyes locked onto JJ as he slowly climbed his way up, before you couldn’t see them any more, every bike disappearing into the trees when they took a sharp turn.

“It looks like Rafe Cameron is first to the trees, he is gonna be tough to catch in there.”

Topper followed right behind Rafe, and JJ, by some miracle, had made it to third place, Topper glancing back at him, before making the bike go faster.

“Out of my way, Top.” JJ spoke, colliding into his bike and knocking him off of it, but in doing so, knocking himself off his own as well.

“We got some serious contact in the brush.”

Both JJ and Topper stood up as quickly as possible, both of them attempting to go for their bikes. Topper reached his first, quickly riding away, JJ groaning in annoyance as others caught up.

“Oh, and it sounds like Topper didn’t like Maybank crowding him there.”

JJ got on to his bike, kicking it into gear again and trying to catch up again.

“It looks like they’re turning around the buoy. We’ve got Rafe Cameron still in front ahead of the group of riders.”

They all began following in suit, turning their bikes around the buoy,

“Cameron seems to have things well in hand.”

“He’s just gotta cost it home, no mistakes and he should take him the Kildare enduro.”

You groaned, “C’mon, Jj. Pull yourself together.”

JJ was last to circle it.

“There’s Maybank bringing up the rear.”

“Yeah, tough race for him-“ as the commentator was speaking, his bike had failed him, as soon as he went to turn around the buoy, it fell down. “Oh! He’s down again in the deep sand.”

You groaned in annoyance, “Jesus.”

“Cameron and the other riders are probably halfway back through the trees at this point.”

“Not a chance he’s catching up with them.” The other commentator spoke, you shaking your head.

JJ got back up on his bike, but he didn’t turn for the trees. He instead, turned for a large gap in the sand, the inlet.

JJ kicked it faster, watching it with laser-focused eyes as he slowly approached it.

“Wait, hold on. What are we seeing, ladies and gentlemen?”

“What the hell is that idiot doing?” You mumbled to yourself.

“Looks like he’s gonna try to jump the inlet. That’s a 50-foot gap!”

JJ screamed as he revved his engine, jumping the inlet, almost feeling as if he was flying as he shot up into the air, before his bike landed back onto the ground.

“Oh my god, JJ Maybank! Absolutely full send!”

The entire crowd erupted into cheers and shouts for him, you screaming his name as loud as you could.

“He has gone worst to first and leapfrogged the entire pack!”

The bikers behind turned, Rafe trailing after Jj.

“And Rafe Cameron’s closing fast. Looks like it’s gonna be chippy here.”

JJ glanced back, Rafe now next to him, both of their bikes swerving.

“Back off!” Jj shouted, both of them pushing their bikes as fast as they could, now side by side. Rafe kept attempting to knock JJ off his bike.

“Get off me, man!” Jj yelled once again, but Rafe was not letting up. Jj had gotten ahead of him for a split second, before Rafe came right back on his side, beginning to kick JJ.

“They are banging! They’re hitting!”

They were so close to the finish line, JJ getting ahead of Rafe once again,

“Maybank is in the lead! Cameron’s close, but not gonna be able to overtake him.”

Rafe pulled his bike directly behind JJ’s, his front tire hitting JJs back one, chasing it to flip over, both Jj and Rafe falling off their bikes.

“Jj!” You cried out worriedly, your eyes widening as you looked down, seeing the rest of the riders not too far behind.

“Oh, mayhem, carnage! They’re both down! They’re both down! They collided just short of the finish.”

You swallowed, your anxiety growing as you watched everyone approach both boys on the ground. John B glanced back, before turning around.

“And here comes Routledge in the lead now. Topper right on his tail, but oh no! Maybank is in the way!”

He was met with JJ looking up at him, John B quickly stopping.

“He’s opened the door for topper!”

“Watch out!” You shouted to your brother when you saw Topper racing towards him, JJ dodging and jumping onto the ground right before he would have hit him.

“It’s gonna be Topper! Topper takes the win!”

You waited until all the bikes passed by, before running on the sand, not hesitating to reach out your hand for your brother, who was laying on the ground.

“Jay!” You shouted, grabbing his shoulder and gently pulling him up. “Are you good?” You asked him with a worried crease in your brow. “Jj-“

JJ shoved your hand off of him, you looking at him in confusion. “Just get off me, man.”

“Look, I tried, man.” John B spoke behind you, you turning to him now.

“Oh, you tried, huh? Look where that got us.”

“Hey! Don’t start your shit right now,” you told your brother, “It was your idea!”

“Shut up, y/n.” He told you, taking off his helmet and his bandana, walking away from all of you.

You scoffed, Sarah coming up to John B and asking him if he was okay.

“Get used to it!” Rafe spoke to them, you all turning your heads to him now.

“What’d you say?” John B asked, walking up to Rafe, who ignored him until he shoved him roughly.

“Hey, no, what’d you say? Huh? What’d you say?”

Rafe shoved him back, “Get used to it.” He continued,

“Hey! Hey!” You shouted, shoving Rafe away from John B. Rafe glanced down at you.

“This is forever, all right?! Y’all don’t get to win!”

“You could’ve killed each other!” Sarah shouted at her brother.

“Yeah, like you give a shit.” Rage began to walk away, “You gonna kill me like you killed dad?”

“Excuse me?! What did you just say?!” Sarah shouted at him, Topper coming over to you all to rub his victory in your face.

“Sarah, how’s that, uh, pogue life treating you?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. All this utter bullshit. Pogues vs kooks this, you’re broke that. You were fed up.

You walked up to Topper and Ruthie, who was underneath his arm. They stopped in front of you, before you hit Topper with a blow to the face, him landing onto the floor, holding his cheek in his palms with an open mouth.

“Bitch!” Ruthie shouted at you, shoving you, a crowd forming around all of you.

“You wanna go too? Let’s go. Let’s fucking go, you cunt!” You shoved her back, pushing her onto the ground next to her pussy ass boyfriend, before landing multiple slaps and punches to her face while Topper attempted to shove you off of her.

Pope was the one to grab you, pulling you away from the bloodied couple as you shouted at them both, both of them watching you in horror.

When he grabbed you, you noticed a familiar pair of eyes on you, staring up at Rafe for a moment, him staring right back at you in shock. You turned your face back to Topper and Ruthie.

“Fuck all of you! Pussies!” You spat at them, Pope dragging you away away from the crowd, you regaining yourself when you heard sirens not too far.

“Shit, shit.” You murmured, glancing behind you as you all began to ran.

“Let’s go! C’mon!” John B shouted at you.

“I said it. I said it again and again. I said don’t touch the last of our nugget. That was it. That was the last of our savings! Do you not care?!”

“Pope, you saw what happened, man.” JJ turned around to face Pope, “he stole it! Okay? He cheated and he stole it. That’s not my fault, Pope.”

“Do you know how selfish you so-“

“I sound selfish? I was trying to help us out!”

“You helped up. You just cost us everything. Thank you!”

“Jj, why are you making it sound like you had nothing to do with it?” Kiara asked him.

“Okay, Kie, Kie,” he breathed out, “You know mex okay? I was gonna bet it all. That’s who I am.”

“You should’ve talked to us first. It’s too risky this time.”

“And what were you doing?!” Pope turned to John B, you rolling your eyes at this entire argument while you sat on the hammock, bandaging your knuckles. “You knew he had it and you just let him race?”

“He told me last minute, all right?”

“John B, look man, you were supposed to cover!”

“I did cover!”

“You were supposed to not take our savings-“

“Hey!” You shouted at them all. “Enough! You all sound like goddamn children! Get the fuck over yourselves, god!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you-“ JJ started.

“God, this is exactly what I’m talking about.” You threw your hands up, sighing. Silence fell upon the group before Cleo spoke. “How bad is it, Pope?” She asked him.

“How bad is it? We have a 13,000 dollar property tax payment due in seven days. And we have zero working capital. There is nothing, and you took the last of our savings. So thank you.”

JJ pursed his lips together, watching Pope walk away in frustration and anger.

“Holy shit. They… they wrote about us.”

“What?” JJ asked, everyone perking up at the news.

“The outer banks sentinel wrote about us.”

Everyone ran up to Kiara and looked at the computer she had sitting in her lap, listening to her read it. “The extraordinary discovery made by the young adventurers has validated the existence of the city of gold.”

“Oh my god!”

“That’s my name!”

18 months after you found el dorado were you all finally recognized for it.

After the ceremony, after the old man, Wes Genrette, handed you blackbeards log, he invited you all to his private estate on goat island.

“Do you guys know anybody that’s been here?” Kiara asked as you all sat around on a boat, “cause I don’t.”

“Nope.”

“Not at all.”

“Hey, Sarah, you must know somebody who’s been here, right? I mean, like, all kooks, they… they know each other. They go to the same parties.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve heard the rumors, right?”

“About the daughter or whatever? That she drowned with her baby? That’s what I heard.” You said, JJ nodding along.

“I heard that too, but I heard she was possessed first or something.”

“And then I heard that was all bullshit because… what?”

“C’mon, it’s a classic Kildare legend.” You hit Pope on the shoulder.

“Doesn’t make it true.”

“Okay. Anyways, why are we doing this again?” Cleo asked.

“We need the money.” Sarah and pope said at the same time.

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover @just-levyy @hallecarey1

[roseyodditea]

Just Fix It - Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.2k words. Your repair work is interrupted and then ruined by The Duke himself.

Warnings -> Swearing, Minor injuries.

A/N -> I love the idea of being a mechanic in Meropide. lmk if it's actually interesting to anyone that isn't me and I can write more. I'm just testing the waters with this one lmao

**********

For the first time in a long time, the halls of the Fortress of Meropide were quiet. The consistent and loud clanging of heavy machinery was absent, much to the pleasure of a lot of the prisoners. However, prisoners that were close to the elevator could hear the shouting of the scariest man under the water and the most stubborn person to probably ever exist. The shouts of The Duke and you, the head mechanic of the Fortress. 

“Get down from there!” Wriothesley shouted at the top of one of the large presses in the production zone where you stood, 10 feet in the air. His tone was half amused and half frustrated.

“You aren’t my boss! I don’t take orders from you!” You chuckled, standing in triumph on top of the machinery, holding nothing but an angle grinder. “I am literally your boss!” You let out a scoff. “I am an employee of the Fontaine Research Institute of Kinetic Energy Engineering. I am on loan to you, bitch.” A few of the newer prisoners looked away in fear as you insulted The Duke, not understanding the dynamic between the two of you.

“How much longer do you have on the repairs?” He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh in front of others.

You scoff and return to cutting off some of the warped metal of the old press. “Not too much longer. I’m just cleaning up some metal that’s causing some of that god-awful screeching. I could fix it faster if you stopped distracting me.”

“Just hurry up and fix it. You’re wasting my precious time.” “What, you planning on dying soon, old man?” You snort to yourself and duck as a wrench is thrown dangerously close to your head, the guards and prisoners in the production zone moving to quickly leave now that metal was being thrown around. You put down the angle grinder and stand up, looking down at Wriothesley. “Say that again.” He looks at you with that cocky smirk you’ve grown to love and picks up a hammer from the toolbox you left on the ground.

“Careful there. That’s heavy, you might throw out your back trying to toss that all the way up here.” You taunt and hold your arms out wide, making yourself a bigger target. 

Wriothesley was throwing the hammer when the high-pitched sound of someone clearing their throat caused your blood to run cold. “Need I remind you both of the strict safety procedures we have in place?” Sigewinne’s voice immediately caused you to panic, looking away from Wriothesley, not realizing the hammer had already left his hand. You were about to say something when the hammer flew towards you. Panic ran through your body as instinct took over, dodging backwards, but losing your footing and falling off of the top of the machinery. Before you fully realized you were falling a ramp of ice emerged and broke your fall, but causing you to catch your wrist as the transition from ice to metal flooring caused you to roll. You didn’t even try to get up, a throbbing sensation in your wrist overpowering you. Two sets of footsteps approached you quickly. Sigewinne grabbed the wrist you landed on and furrowed her eyebrows, your body relaxing now that you knew you were in good hands.

“It’s just a sprain. It should heal just fine in a month” Sigewinne went to grab one of the first aid kits always kept in the production zone. She took out some wraps to help stabilize your wrist when Wriothesley grabbed it from her. 

“I’ll take care of it. It’s my fault they got injured in the first place.” He nodded at Sigewinne and she took that as an order to leave the both of you alone. He took your wrist in his hand and began to gently wrap it. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.” 

You tried to ignore the pain in your wrist and chuckled. “Yeah, it kinda was.” You watch his hands move around yours shockingly delicately, his brows furrowed in concentration as he looks down at your hand. “It’s really not a big deal. This isn’t the worst sprain I’ve gotten from climbing on equipment like that. I should have expected it.” Wriothesley shakes his head. “Stop that. This is serious. I hurt you and now you can’t work.” “Oh come on. You have plenty of other mechanics at your beck and call that will come to fix this and do it safer than I would.” You were met with silence, Wriothesley still focused on your wrist, refusing to look up into your eyes. “Unless you have a personal attachment to this one?”

“How bad does it hurt?” He tried to push down the lump he found stuck in his throat, but it still made his voice crackle in a way you hadn’t heard before. “Oh my god, you do have an emotional attachment.” You move your wrist closer to your body. Wriothesley doesn’t seem to notice and moves closer. “Just tell me how bad it hurts. I can get you some medicine from the infirmary, or I can-” “Oh shut up.” You pull him even closer, but this time he notices. Neither of you make any move to back away from each other. “I’m not worried about my wrist anymore. Something more interesting came up.” Wriothesley finishes wrapping your wrist, the support lessening your pain. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you feel a chill creeping up your arm, his cryo vision glowing subtly as he tries to soothe the inevitable swelling. “I find your company enjoyable. You bring a sense of fun and light I never could afford to have in my life until recently. And the fact that you’re willing to consistently make the trip down here to this damp metal prison means a lot.” He sighs and shakes his head. “And for some stupid reason, I got wrapped up in the moment and threw a hammer at you when you were already in a precarious situation without any sort of safety harness on.” He fully sat down instead of just awkwardly crouching over you.

“And who’s fault is it I wasn’t wearing a safety harness?” “Mine. I’m your boss and I’ve been letting you get away with not wearing one for far too long.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “You’re not technically my boss. You don’t even sign my paychecks.” “Can’t you let me have anything?” He lets a playful smirk grace his face, the chill making you forget all about your pain. “You’re one of the few people I trust with half the old equipment in this prison. What am I going to do for the next month while you’re healing?”

You moved to rest your head on his shoulder. “You know I’d make a good supervisor.” You wiggle your wrist out of his grip and slide your arm to hold his hand, not minding they were still ice cold.

“For me or other mechanics?” He asked with a hopeful tone in his voice, leaning in slightly.

“I think you know that answer.” You lean in the rest of the way, placing a quick and gentle kiss on his lips. 

“Hmm. I‘ve never heard of that supervision strategy.” “You’re a fucking idiot”

**********

[wandering-winchesters]

First Moments: I love you

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: The first time I love you's are exchanged. Requested: @roseblue373 A/N: This was completely inspired by the above Gif.

--

The vampire nest was supposed to be easy—a clean job, quick and quiet. At least, that was the plan when you and Dean Winchester had rolled into town two days ago. The intel suggested maybe half a dozen vamps, tops. It was the kind of hunt that Dean had shrugged off with his usual cocky smirk and a “Piece of cake.” And you… well, you’d trusted him, because trusting Dean had become second nature, no matter how much it scared you sometimes.

Now, standing in the aftermath of a bloodbath, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to punch him or patch him up first.

Dean leaned heavily against the crumbling brick wall of the warehouse, his breathing ragged. Blood streaked his face and neck, some of it his and some of it… not. The torn collar of his jacket revealed a series of lipstick-shaped bruises on his skin, the telltale marks of a close call with a particularly persistent vamp. You could still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins from when you’d staked her, barely in time to keep her fangs from sinking into Dean’s throat.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice as you wiped your blade clean on your jeans.

Dean gave you that infuriating smirk, though it was weaker than usual. “Takes more than a love bite to take me down.” His voice was strained, but the humor was still there, always his default shield.

“This isn’t funny, Dean,” you snapped, your hands clenching into fists. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed. What the hell were you thinking?”

His smirk faltered, and for a moment, he looked away, his jaw tightening. “I was thinking I’d rather take the hits than let you get hurt,” he muttered, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it.

The words stopped you in your tracks. Anger and worry warred in your chest as you stared at him, your pulse thundering in your ears. “That’s not your call to make,” you said, stepping closer. “We’re supposed to be a team, Dean. You don’t get to play hero and leave me to pick up the pieces.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and the vulnerability in his green eyes made your breath hitch. “It’s just how I’m wired, alright?” he said, running a hand through his blood-matted hair. “I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

The raw honesty in his voice knocked the wind out of you. Dean Winchester didn’t talk about feelings, not unless he was three drinks deep and barely holding it together. But here he was, laying it bare in the middle of a vampire nest, his blood staining the ground beneath him.

“Dean,” you said softly, your anger ebbing away. “You’re not gonna lose me. But you’ve gotta stop trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do this together, or not at all.”

He nodded, the fight draining out of him. “Yeah, alright.” But the way he said it made you think he didn’t quite believe it.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, save for the low hum of the Impala’s engine and the occasional hiss of pain from Dean as he shifted in his seat. You kept your eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary to keep your hands from shaking. The image of Dean, bloodied and battered, kept replaying in your mind, and it took everything in you not to let the tears that threatened to fall win.

Back at the motel, you set Dean down at the edge of the bed and rummaged through the first aid kit. He watched you silently, his expression unreadable, as you pulled out gauze, antiseptic, and bandages. When you turned back to him, he was already shrugging off his jacket, wincing as the movement pulled at a gash on his arm.

“Let me,” you said, kneeling in front of him. He didn’t argue, for once, and the fact that he didn’t made your chest ache even more.

You worked in silence, cleaning and dressing his wounds with practiced efficiency. Dean flinched occasionally but didn’t complain, his eyes fixed on a spot over your shoulder. When you reached the bruises on his neck, your hand hesitated, the anger you’d been holding back bubbling to the surface again.

“You scared the hell out of me tonight,” you said quietly, your voice thick with emotion.

Dean’s gaze snapped to yours, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice nearly undid you. “I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, looking down at his hands.

“You never do,” you said, finishing with the bandage and sitting back on your heels. “But you can’t keep doing this, Dean. You can’t keep throwing yourself into danger like your life doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t respond right away, his jaw working as he processed your words. Finally, he looked up, and the raw emotion in his eyes took your breath away. “It’s not that my life doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s that yours matters more.”

The weight of his confession settled between you, heavy and unspoken. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. How could they, when everything you wanted to say felt too big, too messy for this moment?

Instead, you reached up, your hand brushing against his cheek. His eyes closed at the contact, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. When his gaze met yours again, something had shifted, something unspoken passing between you.

“Dean,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

He swallowed hard, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested against his cheek. “I don’t know how to do it any other way,” he admitted, his voice breaking.

“Then let me help you,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest. “Let me be there for you, the way you’re always there for me.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you, his eyes searching yours. And then, finally, he nodded, his fingers tightening around yours. “Okay,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Okay.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of exhaustion and quiet companionship. Dean eventually fell asleep, his head resting against your shoulder as you sat on the edge of the bed. You stayed awake, watching over him, your mind racing with everything that had been left unsaid.

It was a week later, on another hunt, when everything finally came to a head.

This time, it was a wendigo, and once again, the plan had gone sideways. Dean had pushed you out of the way of a swipe meant for you, taking the brunt of the attack himself. You’d managed to take the thing down, but not before Dean had been thrown into a tree, leaving him bruised and dazed.

Back at the motel, you’d had enough.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, pacing the room as Dean sat on the bed, holding an ice pack to his ribs. “Do you have some kind of death wish, or are you just that stupid?”

“I was trying to protect you,” he shot back, his voice rising to match yours. “What do you want me to do, just stand there and let you get hurt?”

“Yes!” you yelled, the word bursting out before you could stop it. “I’d rather get hurt than watch you kill yourself trying to save me, Dean. Don’t you get that?”

He froze, his eyes wide as he stared at you. The room went silent, the air heavy with tension.

“Why?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

Your chest tightened, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. “Because I love you, you idiot,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I love you, and I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. And then, to your surprise, he laughed—a soft, disbelieving sound that made your stomach twist.

“You’re serious,” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “You’re really serious.”

“Of course I’m serious,” you said, your voice trembling. “Why the hell would I say that if I wasn’t?”

He set the ice pack aside and stood, closing the distance between you in two steps. Before you could react, his hands were on your face, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. “I love you too,” he said, his voice raw and full of emotion. “God, I love you too.”

@hobby27 @roseblue373 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter