#foreign car mechanics near me

[glitchfiles]

heatstroke. [ljn]

pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader

wc. 3.8k+

cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…

an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3

just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.

"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.

you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.

"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.

the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.

his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.

"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.

his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.

you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."

if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.

unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.

he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.

then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.

you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.

"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."

"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.

"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.

"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.

only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.

he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.

you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).

“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.

he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.

for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.

“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”

“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.

he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”

you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.

“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.

he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.

after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.

“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.

you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.

he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.

"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"

"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.

your phone…

sunglasses… 

a pack of gum…

lip gloss…

no wallet.

you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.

jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.

while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.

your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.

"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"

"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.

maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.

you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.

sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.

“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.

though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.

he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.

he could bend his rules this once for you.

“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”

without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.

“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.” 

he can’t believe you’re doing this.

he can’t believe he’s doing this.

you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.

“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head. 

“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.

“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks. 

“anything.” you nod.

“then open your fucking mouth, slut.”  his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.

“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.  

you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.

“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”

you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“

“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.

he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.

jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.

"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already. 

after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place. 

“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”

the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer. 

“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”

“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.

“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.

“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it. 

he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out. 

“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are. 

you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there. 

“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you. 

he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own. 

you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress. 

a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car. 

deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.

“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.” 

now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you. 

you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat. 

he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial. 

“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.

“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.

“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.” 

you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.

your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you. 

“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having. 

when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.

“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper. 

“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”

your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.

once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak. 

he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.

between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him. 

you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.

jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty. 

“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up. 

“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.

“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.” 

“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.

 “next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.” 

★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!

© glitchfiles

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 2

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2564

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma, Alcohol.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

I’ll just make an appearance and sneak out the back if I have to.

A half-hour later, you’d finally convinced yourself to get out of your car and head toward the door. The parking lot was packed now that it was just after seven—most of the vehicles you recognized. Living in a small town and being a mechanic, that sort of thing tended to happen. Thanks to Bobby, you had worked on most of them, even if the owners had no clue.

The moment you opened the bar door, the sound of the jukebox and the patrons was almost deafening. The smell of alcohol was strong and inviting. The room mirrored the parking lot, full. People were playing pool, dancing to the music, leaning against the walls, and chatting while the bar and tables were full. 

It was the group near the back that caught your attention. Several tables had been pushed together so they could sit near each other. You recognized most of them from around town, the garage, and the bar. That was when Ash found you, before you’d made it halfway to the group.

“So, when do I get that date? I brought whiskey,” he asked, smirking as he held up a full bottle of your favorite whiskey.

“Ash, I don’t date, you know that. Plus, you’re like a brother to me, but thanks for the whiskey,” you chuckled, grabbing it quickly out of his hand.

“You here for that?” he asked, using his thumb, motioning to the group near the back.

“Yeah. Got invited by John and sort of felt obligated to show up at least. I figured I could sneak out the back later on,” you replied, glancing from the group back to Ash.

“None of em’ are bad people, Y/N. You need more friends,” Ash told you, giving you that sweet smile that only he could when he was worried about you.

You sighed and took a drink of whiskey, wincing a little at the burn it left behind, “They’ll find out about me, and they’ll be like everyone else. I’m not getting my hopes up again, Ash. I just… can’t.”

He gave you one of his famous hugs with his arms over your shoulders, “Just, you don’t got to be such a loner,” he told you, kissed the top of your head, and then headed to the back again.

Damnit Ash. You’ll see. They’ll hate me just like everyone else does.

The idea that believing anyone outside the small group, that was your family or extended family, could remotely even like you as a friend was foreign. It had been why you worked the shifts you had chosen to work, to avoid those people.

You put on that fake smile again as you walked over toward the group, reminding yourself you just had to make an appearance, have a couple drinks, then slip out the back when no one was looking.

“There she is,” Ellen smiled, standing to hug you, as did Bobby, Jodi, and Donna. “I said I’d show up,” you chuckled after they all hugged you.

There was a bit of shuffling of seats, but they made one for you between Ellen and Bobby, but across from Dean. You managed to keep that fake smile on, no matter how uncomfortable you felt sitting there with all those people, mostly the ones you tended to avoid, though.

“Bobby told me about your promotion. Congrats,” Ellen told you with a smile that went from ear to ear.

Of course, he told her. 

“Still not sure how I feel about it, though. I just want to work on cars more than anything,” you replied, a bit shyly, keeping your attention more on Ellen.

You set the bottle of whiskey on the table and missed Dean raising an eyebrow as you did. “You’ll do fine, Sweetie,” Ellen told you, brushing a few strands behind your ear in her mom-like way she did.

Before you could say another word, though, John stood, getting everyone’s attention. When you turned to look at him, your gaze stopped on Dean, whose green eyes were locked on you. You just blinked at him blankly, not really sure why he’d be staring at someone like you. 

John gave a speech about Sam getting a full ride and his SAT scores. Everyone cheered, then toasted. You grabbed your whiskey bottle instead of the beer that was there for you. Dean watched you, but you still couldn’t figure out why. He was handsome, sure, but he had a soulmate and would one day find her. So, you paid him no mind other than the fact that he was your boss’s son. 

There was a lot of chatter and conversation going on at the tables between the more than ten people who were there. You kept up with it, though, and even piped in when someone asked you something, even if it was rare. They were catching up on things since they’d been away. You made sure not to drink too much, only having four shots of the whiskey and staying clear of the Amber Bock that had been sitting in front of you.

Then, almost an hour later, you excused yourself to the bathroom, giving everyone that fake smile before heading in that direction. Halfway across the bar, though, you glanced over your shoulder. Seeing that no one was watching you, or so you thought, you ducked into the back, where Ash was cooking. He just looked over at you, nodded, and returned to cooking as you slipped out the back door.

You leaned against the wall for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief at the aloneness of being outside and away from it all. It was far more overwhelming than you had anticipated. There was a mild chill in the air, but it felt nice, cooling not only your lungs, but also your body.

After a few moments of calming down, you headed around to where you had parked, looking more at the ground as you fiddled with your keyring, unclipping it from your belt loop. You practically screamed, though, when you saw him leaning against your driver’s side door.

“Sneaking out?” Dean asked you with a smirk.

You frowned, then sighed through your nose, “I can only people for so long, okay? It’s just too crowded in there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. I didn’t want to deal with it.” It almost surprised you how easy it was to be honest with him, even though you didn’t even know him. Typically, you’d have devised an excuse, like being tired and needing sleep for work the following day.

He raised an eyebrow, “Then, why’d you say you’d come?” he asked curiously.

You looked down at the ground, nudging a rock with the toe of your shoe, “I kinda felt obligated,” you mumbled, “John being my boss an all.”

When he laughed, you weren’t sure if it pissed you off or hurt you, but you didn’t look up at him, even when he did start talking. “If you really didn’t want to come, you could have just said that. My dad’s pretty understanding. He and Bobby talk a lot. Bobby was surprised you even agreed.”

At first, you weren’t quite sure what to say, but finally looked up at him, feeling guilty for not being honest with John, or Bobby. “I’m not used to people caring what I want or don’t want, and I don’t know John at all. I’ll apologize when I see him again.” 

“What do you mean, people not caring what you want or not?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow in slight annoyance or aggravation; you weren’t quite sure.

“I guess you don’t know then. I figured Benny would have said something. I never got my soulmate’s name, when I turned sixteen. I’m sort of treated like the plague around here, except for a few people who are pretty much family,” you replied, then sighed, still trying to figure out why it was so easy to be so honest with this stranger.”How come your soulmate isn’t with you?” you asked, somewhat curiously.

“Let’s just say, it’s complicated,” he answered, shifting slightly, leaning against your car. “My brother was telling me about that, your soulmate thing. He said it was fairly rare, but you aren’t the only one. The authorities don’t want the general public to know, so they keep all the information on lockdown.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage, and you looked back down at the ground, debating what you wanted to ask him for a few moments. “How come you’re talking to me, though? People will treat you badly, if you’re seen with me too much.”

That’s when the bar's door opened, causing both of you to look over at the commotion. You had to stifle your laughter, watching Benny, Ash, and Cas haul some drunk out and then toss him into the parking lot. Ellen was then standing directly in front of him.

“And if I ever catch you in my bar again, I’ll have Jodi arrest your disrespectful ass. No one talks about my niece like that and gets away with it, especially in my bar,” Ellen threatened the man.

“She’s protective of you, huh?” Dean asked from behind you.

“Yeah. She raised me since I was two. Jo and I grew up together. They’re the only blood family I have left,” you answered quietly.

Dean decided to change the topic, and attempt to answer your question from before the commotion. “Well, the reason I’m talking to you is, well, uh, kinda funny,” he began, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You turned around, looking up at him and tilting your head a bit, curiously and confused. It didn’t seem to help his nerves, now that your attention was on him, and he averted his eyes. 

“It would seem that while we were both growing up, we didn’t ever run into each other. I worked in Bobby’s garage in the mornings with the guys and hung out here in the evenings. You were just the opposite. Then there was school. I saw you around, but you always seemed to disappear quickly,” he replied, quite nervously, which you couldn’t really understand.

That at least explains the earlier conversation in the garage. But what does he not want me to find out about? I shouldn’t ask; that would be rude.

“How come you seem so nervous around me?” you asked, then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just, people avoid me. I just don’t understand why you aren’t avoiding me, too.”

You sighed, then went and leaned on the driver’s side door of your car since he had moved, thanks to the commotion earlier. You were trying to sift back through your childhood memories to see if you could remember meeting the Winchesters.

Dean was again silent for a moment, watching you, which you did notice this time, even if you weren’t looking directly at him. “You were like a mystery back then. And, uh, you still kinda are. That’s the answer to both your questions,” he answered, softer than you had thought he would be.

You shrugged, though, “I’m pretty normal, except for the no soulmate name thing.”

When he chuckled, you looked up at him, narrowing your eyes in a partial glare, “Sweetheart, you are far from normal. Not every day a hot chick is a badass mechanic and has a badass car to boot.”

For the first time in a long time, you blushed. He was the first guy to call you ‘hot’ and badass, ever. Ash had called you hot, but you just shrugged him off, figuring he was just being, well, Ash. Dean, though, was a complete stranger, who had a soulmate. 

You bit your bottom lip nervously, debating asking yet another personal question. “If you have a soulmate, why would you say those things about me?”

He sighed and leaned on your car next to you, but he kept some space between the two of you as he looked down at the ground. You debated retracting your question when he finally spoke up, “I’m not supposed to talk about it, since the courts got involved. If you can keep it quiet, I don’t mind telling you,” he explained quietly.

“I won’t tell anyone. No one talks to me anyway,” you answered, now looking over at him, utterly curious.

“I do have a soulmate. I’m not with her, though. A woman, she had my name on her, but I didn’t feel that connection with her, and her name wasn’t the one on me. It ended up being just a regular tattoo, but it was done professionally. It’s a legal battle now and part of what my brother and Dad have been trying to help me with. It’s also why I came back here,” he explained, and he looked sad to you.

“I promise I’ll keep it to myself. I’m sorry someone put you through something like that, and I hope you can find your true soulmate one day,” you offered softly.

Your mind was working overtime with what he’d told you. Why would anyone do something like that? To what point and purpose? What would faking a soulmate mark accomplish? Why Dean Winchester? Too many questions and no answers, none that you could seek anyway.

“Thanks, Y/N, I appreciate that. I’m sure I’ll find her, one day,” he said with that soft smile again.

There was almost a far-off, dreamy sort of look in his eyes, but you weren’t going to ask him what his thoughts were on. “So, umm… I was gonna head home for the night, but…” you trailed off, unsure how to ask him to move so you could at least get in your car without sounding rude.

“Oh, right,” he replied, pushing himself away from your car. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at work then. Don’t be too tough on me. It’s been a little while since I’ve worked in the garage.”

“Yeah, thanks. I won’t. I’m really not like everyone says I am,” you replied, this time, giving him a friendly, soft smile before unlocking your door.

“I knew that the moment I met you, Sweetheart,” he smirked, closing your car door after you slipped inside.

All you could do was smile and shake your head slightly in amusement at his response. “See you tomorrow, Dean,” you told him before starting your car and heading home, your mind racing.

Something’s clearly going on with the Winchesters. Benny knows something. I’m gonna guess that the other three guys know it as well, since none of them seemed surprised by Benny’s statement at the garage. Plus, they didn’t push for what it was.

Then there’s whatever is going on with John and Bobby. Aunt Ellen has to be involved. Which would mean that Jodi knows, too, whatever it is. And what did Bobby even mean about Dean not trying anything with me? Dean said he had a soulmate, so why would he even bring that kind of thing up?Then there was that joking sort of undertone, like he hadn’t really meant it. John had it too, regarding Dean. What the hell is going on, and why do I feel like I’m the only one that has no clue?

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

Story Master List Main Master List

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If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[survivalist-anon]

Log 24: Burned at both ends

In a dark, makeshift medical room, a doctor had been meticulously constructing a device for mobily assisting a very, impatient patient.

"gGAHA! WOULD BE CAREFU- *COUGH COUGH*", Sleen may have come out of Wick's grip miraculously alive......but not unharmed.

His collar bone, left shoulder, three of his vertebra and his arm had been severely damaged from his last encounter with Wick. Having been crushed and thrown into a metal carrier with the speed of a moving car.

Now, metal extension to his whole body has covered all his extremities, forming a powered exoskeleton over what is usually a stout, unathleticly flaccid body. However, it was now a permanent part of his body, keeping his ribs and spine from collapsing in onto his organs.

"I-I am sorry M-Mr.Sleen, i-its just that this is a relatively new medical device. Or at least n-new to me...", the doctor was attempting to figure out the foreign mechanics of this device, completely unknown to him. "...it's so...so..".

"Alien? Yah. *COUAGK*", a wet, mucusy cough croaked. "Mr.Fe really has some *couack* nice...toys...hehe.... he's outdone himself", he tests out the metal exoskeleton like brace on his shoulder and arm. Moving it with an auditable revving of gears and motorts. "Heheh.", he looked to a metal table next to him.... grabbed it, crushing it in his hands like an empty can. "Hehehe.... haven't felt this good *cough* since that time in LA....hmm....are you doing?", he turned menacingly towards the doctor.

Stuttering in fear, "I-I ugh believe so, but I m-must warn you. All of this...is linked into your brain M-Mr.Sleen....if anything happens, you will severally damage yo-", Sleen leaned close to the doctor's face, growling at him, "...j-just don't do .... anything reckless?", the doctor's eyes locked into Sleen's now cold, soulless stare.

A sickening smile creeped ear to ear, "Reckless? Me?....nah.....", his eyes trail over to other parts. Some miscellaneous bits that look like they're used for fighting; drills, mechanical claws, what looks like a gun rail, "maybe....I should be a little more..... prepared", his grin had grow more toothy, as the cogs in his brain were turning, the unfortunate doctor had figured out what Sleen was thinking.

He had no choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trapped in a clean but bare room, Selene had stayed in a corner. Her make-up running down her face, now with bruises on her body. She had felt hopeless, "oh mon corbeau, where have you flown off to...", she had muttered to herself.

She knew Wick was likely preparing to rescue her...but it was only a matter of time.

A few knocks at the door had startled her, her head shot at the direction of the door. Shaking in fear if it was Sleen again.

"Disculpe señorita, espero que se encuentre bien.", a gentle voice, finally.

The door had locked open, as the door creeped open, it was Señor Mateo. "I...hope you do not mind my poor English. My...ninos are a still helping me learn.", he greeted her with a friend smile. "oh tu pobresita, that fat man has hurt...did he not?".

Selene was prepared to fight back, she has been bruised but she wasn't beatin yet. "If you lay a hand o-", she could see Señor Mateo's hand raise.

"no no. I just do not like when a man...hurts a woman.", with a snap of his finger, his own personal physician comes in with everything to tend to Selene. "I do not a plan to harm you....I had heard the screams....".

Selene was understandably hesitant to let the physician near her, worried if he was doing to put her under or drug her.

Mateo could see her reluctance, "Senorita, it is ok. Doctora Jaun will not harm you.", as he stated this, Doctor Jaun has taken out a pair of gloves to examine any possible injuries or bodily harm to her.

The situation felt strange, why was Señor Mateo being so kind, was he the next.... client that Selene was going to be forced upon?

Señor Mateo simply gazed at her with a stern but soften look of concern, "I have never understood....why men like Sleen must hurt their ugh..... prettiest girls....it is...not like as if any real harm shall come to that....caracol.....but is it because of your ferocity? Your origins? Maybe....I do not know.....to my knowledge....true caballeros do not lay their hands on any women....ugly, fat, old, young, beautiful....none....our Virgen María was a woman...thus...no woman... should be harmed...evil women yes....but women...no.", he had paced around the small room as if he was lecturing her.

"...why...why are you... doing this?", she looked to the doctor who had found a significantly deep whelt on her arm. Wincing in pain, her eyes glanced over to the crack of the door, hunched over, just barley comfortable enough peak from the head of the doorway, there....her eyes met.....

...with 'El Nino'.

Her blood ran cold, eyes widen in horror at the looming monstrosity in white, red and blue at the door.

Covered in gnarled angry scars, 'wires' hanging from the back of his head, his crimson, blood shot eyes meeting hers.

What had made the whole ordeal even worse was his grin. Jagged, sharpen teeth, from ear to ear.

To poor El Nino, he didn't mean any harm at the moment. However, as he had gotten so use to his adoring fans accepting his grotesque appearance, he had forgotten to the average viewer....he was a monster of a being...no matter how 'healed' he has become.

Señor Mateo has noticed her expression, turning to the door, "Ah Alejandro! They you are. Come and greet the nice young lady....", he had motioned for Alejandro to simply crack the door open, he could barely fit through the doorway.

Selene turned to Señor Mateo, holding back her fear of what he had planned for her. And if it involved his own personal Astartes.

"...why...", she looked at him.

The soft smile he had on his face dimmed somberly, "I am here to ... apologize on Alejandro's behalf....I have been informed by Sleen that you and one of the 'steers' are.... intercoursing? Si?".

The questions had ran through her mind like bullets, "....a-apologize for what?", she asked cautiously.

A deep, regretful sigh flew from his mouth, "Because.... Alejandro will kill your 'steer', I had been a paid a considerable amount of money to make sure of that....it would not make me a good business partner...not to... comply.". Although Mateo had shown a deep remorse for what he accepted to do......El Nino had reveled in the idea.

"Hehehe, sorry nina....your bird's wings-", as he tried to cram himself through the doorway, crushing it in his grip,"-are going to be clipped.", a devilish grin had creeped across his face. He felt nothing.

The fact he could fight, be appreciated for it and kill any loyalist Astartes found was already the closest thing to paradise in his mind.

The tears flooded through, and as the physician finished, all Selene could do was sob. She knew Wick was strong, but was he physically capable of handling what she could only comprehend....

As a true monster.

"I could simply take you off of Sleen's hands...it is the most kindness I will be able to grant you....but you will have to comeback home with me, to Guadalajara. After all, you do not have any choice...... staying with Sleen.... could be...a problem.", there was an air of malicious intent in the whole ordeal; the physician, the conversation of chivalry, the apology....was it all to truly display cruelty?

"I will give you until the end of the match, to make your decision.", motioning to his physician and Alejandro to leave.

As the door closes, Selene wipes her tears. Remembering what she has gone through most of her life by this point, hopelessness washed over her like a heavy blanket. Wiping her tears away, she had lifed her head.

The door.

It wasn't fully closed....thanks in part to the enormous hand mark left by Alejandro.

"......une évasion", she whispered to herself. Slowly, she checked if anyone was passing by. Hearing carefully for any footsteps down the hallways.

Slowly opening the door, she peaked over the corner.

And bolted to down the hallway as fast as she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the holding blocks, Sten could suddenly sense Selene was on the move. Practically hearing her heartbeat and smelling her presence.

The only problem? She was heading into the wrong direction.

Sten stepped over to Toke's cell wall, banging it lightly to get his attention.

Waking up from a nap, the sudden banging had gotten his attention, "aye?"

"we must make haste, that girl Wick was with may be unknownly heading to danger.", Sten had shot to Toke's brain with his psykic transmission. "I will alert the others.".

Toke, rarely having to experience Sten's psykic communication, shutters from it. "Aeecchh, got it...but how do you recon we escape?", whispering a little to make sure none of the guards hear him.

"I'm not certain yet....but I fear in spite of the timing, we do not have much time.", Sten turned his head towards Cahrilo's cell and relayed the same message. Lastly he relayed to Bilhard, who had been quiet this whole time.

After a few minutes pensively waiting, the plan commences.

Sten, drops to the floor with a loud, audible thud.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP! MY BATTLE BOTHER ISN'T RESPONDING! SOMEONE GET HELP!", shouted Cahrilo.

One of the guards would begrudgingly came over to his cell, "what the hell do you want?!".

With tears in his eyes, "Please help my battle brother! He hasn't taken his medicine! He need it or his hearts will stop! Look!", he points to Sten's cell.

Sten was unresponsive.

The guards from earlier cautiously check what was going on. Seeing Sten, motionless on the floor.

"Hey! Get up freak!", one of the guards yells at him. "oh shit come on! You can't kill these guys with a 16-wheeler but a fuckn bad ticker can?! Hey! Get the doc here now!", as he commands this request, one of the guards calls up on the walkie.

The chaos Marines across the room had become interested in what was unfolding.

Bilhard was next.

He violently shakes and screams in his cell, making for a fantastic impression of someone having a seizure.

"OH WHAT THE HELL?", the head guard quickly steps over to Bilhard's cell.

One of the more reluctant guards unlocks Sten's cell, pointing the gun at him while cautiously approaching him. Hoping this wasn't some cliche trick.

Poking and prodding the barrel of his gun at Sten's shoulder, he could see how firm the shoulder muscles on his back were. "Woah... getting punched by these guys must feel getting hit by a fright train.", two other guards come into the cell. Unsure of what to do, they tried carrying Sten by his arms.

The head guard was still dealing with Bilhard, "QUIT FUCKING SHAKING YOU BIG BASTARD!".

His assistant was right behind him, "Hey come on man! He's having a seizure you got to give him some air and space! Seriously man, my cousin had them-" as he removed Bilhard's muzzle....

Bilhard stopped, looked him dead in the eyes, and spat on his face.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!", suddenly the smell of acid burning the guard's face had sizzled in the air.

"HOLY SH-", the head guard had been given an extra helping of acidic spit to the face and neck.

"HA! I have been waiting to do that!", after hours of silence, Bilhard had finally broken free. Taking a few shots at the harnesses, he lets himself free, heading straight to Cahrilo.

Across the block, the chaos marines were reveling and cheering the escapees, more so out of morbid amusement than anything.

The three guards in Sten's cell has noticed the commotion, as soon as they had been distracted, two of the guards had felt a bone crushing pressure on their ankles, Sten had grabbed on to the both of them as he was laying down.

Lifting up and tossing one against against the wall and the other on to the electric bars.

The third had taken out his cattle prod, as soon as he was about to land a hit, Sten had quickly turn around, grabbing the guard's wrist.

Roaring like a beast, his golden eyes practically burning into the guard's soul.

Trembling as he now was looking at something closer to animal than a man.

Sten had yanked the prod from his hands and tossed him out of his cell. Running to Toke's cell to let him out.

"Wait Sten! Let's get Joe out of here two!", Toke looked up above his own cell, Joe had been quietly above them, simply hearing the scene. "HAHA! Come on lad! We're heading out of here!".

Joe had peeked his head and looked around, hardly believing this was actually working.

After Cahrilo had gotten free, he headed to Joe's cell to free him.

However, just as few seconds of victory has lead to an alarm being set off. The sound of metal doors in the back of the cell rooms had opened. The chaos marines had stopped making noise and began walking through the doors.

"What the? What's going on?", Toke had stepped out, the two Space Wolves look to what looked like an exit BEHIND their cells.

They couldn't help but feel there was an extra purpose to those doors.

"we must head to the guard entrance, those doors must be a trap.", Sten growled. He knew something was off.

~~~~~~

Selene had been running down different hallways to find the exit, or at least a hiding spot, but there was nothing but different rooms and holding blocks. As the alarm blared above her, she could feel that something was happening. "I have to get out of here.", she thought to herself.

She was only able to find one open door, 'Back Stage Entrance', this had to have felt like a well planned nightmare. She slowly goes through the door into a dark, dimly lot room.

There was nothing, inside.

She knew better. No one is that foolish to go into an empty dark room.

She turned to leave but a hideous surprise had been waiting two inches away from her face.

A large, gun barrel... pointed to her face.

"Hey there, my little pigeon.", Sleen, who has modified himself to a semi-mechanical monster...only leaving his pale, sallowed face, showing what humanity he had left. "Your little flying rat's friends are costing me a pretty penny in henchmen......so here's the deal....you are going to wear the nice, pretty dress I picked out for you ....and you're going to get a front row seat....to watch Wick....and his pals be beaten to horse glue....*click*", his threat was very much real.

"espèce de cochon inconcevable......", was all she could mutter.

Sleen's sick, twisted chuckle creaked from his throat, which was now a tangled mess of tubes and wires. "Yah still sound ....so cute when you insult me....", guess he found out what cochon means.

End of log 24

@kit-williams @barn-anon @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @walking-natural-disaster @starfrost740 @squishyowl @sleepyfan-blog @lawnchair86

[onlyancunin]

So I've been tagged

By this lovely little soul that goes by the handle of @treshmind. And apparently I am the mutual they want to learn more about, which is a compliment I will hold dear and near.

Do you make your bed? People say your body is your temple. My temple is my bed, a direct reflection of how I'm doing. And right now literally everything is there, not to mention I technically sleep on a couch. But I get by, Imake my little space everyday to catch a few zzs.

Favourite number? Not sure if I have one. Probably not. Seven rings nice though. I always considered it to be the "proud" number, as it looks like a person with their chest forward. Much like the idle stance of everyone's favourite vampire.

What’s your job? Graphic / UX / UI Designer & Front-end developer. 10 years a designer, now venturing into IT. I love creating pretty things that touch people, so to speak, figuratively and literally. Something that hits them and/or they can interact with. Creating experiences, waving stories. I learned HTML & CSS when I was like 15, had a blog and couldn't find a nice skin for it - so I just coded my own. Javascript, typescript and vue.js came along last year and honestly, I'm having a blast. And no, pls don't look at my tumblr, I did code its appearance bit, but it's just tweaks, it doesn't say anything about my skills.

If you could go back to school would you? I would actually and it's something I'm considering. One for front-end development to give myself stronger foundation and boost of confidence, and another for foreign language. Spanish & German have my special attention there.

Can you parallel park? I'm willing to try!

Do you think aliens are real? I always have a hard time defining "aliens". I think most people's perception of what counts as "living" is limited at best and hypocritical at worst. I've heard of bacterias having a better time than some of the fully-formed, fully-conscious humans on Earth. Add humanity's general complex of seeing themselves as the most complex existence in the history and you can probably cook up my general stance on the topic. I don't think Earth is the only place there's a "life" on, but aliens understood as extraterrestrial livings, are probably not modeled after the evolutionary fart currently dominating the 3rd planet from the Sun.

Can you drive a manual car? I can, actually. My father is a car mechanic, I take these things pretty seriously, you know. Should I ever have a car, I don't think I'd go for automatic.

What’s your guilty pleasure? To be fair, all my pleasures are guilty. But as it stands now, my most guilty would be to indulge in my feelings and let myself play a game or doodle or write something while knowing there's piles of work I'm behind on.

Tattoos? One on my back between my shoulder blades, just a standard egdy barcode with my birthdate underneath. And one over my heart (or just over my left tit, let's be honest) saying "Ideas are bulletproof", but mirrored - so that I can read it when I look in the mirror.

Favourite colour? Black, red. I usually wear all black with golden accessories and absolutely seizure-inducing, colorful singular statement pieces.

Favourite types of music? Not sure what counts as "favourite" as I prefer music that makes me feel things, whatever the genre. I like the experimental, funky sound, but I also enjoy the deeply consuming sound of progressive electronic music, which help me deep-focus at work, so there's that ~. And oh, I love voices. Talented voices, singing voices, raw, honest voices. I sing a little and enjoy admiring this craft in others.

Do you like puzzles? Oh absolutely. I'm already hooked.

Any phobias? I thought I was afraid of spiders until I lived with a girl who was REALLY afraid of them and I stepped in as this chivalrous knight in shining armor charging at the beast and – So no, not really.

Favourite childhood sport? I actually participated in a lot of disciplines. I wish I gave acrobatics more time & attention. It felt so freeing and beautiful. So poetic, almost.

Do you talk to yourself? Like out loud? Not anymore, but I do have an old pal on me in my head which is eyyyyy, isn't that me?

What movies do you adore? "V for Vendetta" - about how trauma can reduce a person into a concept. In this case - a concept of vengeance. Dangerous, loveable, tragic concept I resonate with very much. This is also the movie where my tattoo quote comes from.

Where I validated my stance that you don't really need to see the other person to know and love them.

Your experiences and feelings are just as valid, even if someone misled you or you never truly met. And the masks and theatrics cannot really conceal what's truly important, so don't be afraid to just... feel.

Coffee or tea? Coffee, freshly ground & brewed, unless I have the instant kind of day, with milk. Tea - preferably Dilmah, either green or earl grey.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? Oh, an artist probably. Little did I know how difficult and anxiety-inducing it would prove.

----

No pressure tags: @herdarkestnightelegance, @thedomesticanthropologist, @nocna-orchidea

[kelliealtogether]

Thanks for tagging me, @behindtheatlantic!

rules: Pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line (or a few), and share it! Then tag people!

Chasing Tails - Adam couldn’t stop himself from laughing and, out of the corner of his eye, he swore he caught Ronan’s lips twitching into a smirk. Ronan, this enigma; a farmer who wasn’t a farmer, a surface-sharp guy with an apparent heart of gold when it came to wounded animals. It all combined to make him more attractive than he already was.

Where Your Wanting Ends - “Parrish. Adam. Jesus shit, you think I’m smart enough, symbolic enough, to break up with you with a fucking houseplant?”

“You are.” Adam closed his eyes and laughed thinly, because Ronan would never give himself enough credit for how clever was, and Adam took a few breaths to ground himself. “But you wouldn’t.”

Somnium - Ronan looked up from his attempt at Dr. Bryde’s latest task, a nondescript toy car with a driver behind the wheel. “Why would I know?”

Adam shrugged his wiry shoulders. Ronan couldn’t tell if his indifference was real or a practiced deflection. Adam said, “It's your dream.”

Fatally Yours - There was no way this guy was Dr. Adam Parrish. For one, he was young, Ronan’s age or maybe slightly older. For two, he was in navy scrubs, not a suit or button up like Ronan usually saw MEs wear. For three, he was fucking attractive, tall and wiry with tawny hair and deep set blue eyes and gaunt cheeks.

He was better looking than anyone working with dead people had the right to be.

Going Back To These Origins - And for the next forty minutes, Ronan was fucking entranced. Adam didn’t talk about all the evolution shit Ronan had heard over and over about how homo sapiens came from apes. Adam really did talk about how humans became humans. He went into how primitive peoples developed tools and weapons and how they moved from hunting and gathering to agrarian societies. He talked about art and culture and language and how early humans formed groups for survival. It filled in all the little spaces left between the boring ass science of how humans came from apes and how they became the way they were.

The Human Origins exhibit had improved.

Boxes on the Lawn - Ronan was never verbose, rarely eloquent, and always curt. Yet from what little he’d said, Adam knew his place was no longer at the Barns. So he was giving Ronan hope, a thing with feathers, and even clipped wings, given time, fly again.

A Sound So Foreign - In the gritty, low timbre of Ronan’s voice, though, Adam never sounded like a boy bred from Virginia dust. It sounded like something sacred, like something placed on an altar and brought offerings. It sounded solid. It sounded whole.

Magnificently Cursed - When the winged and taloned creatures drew near, Ronan would try to hide. He would tuck himself into hollow trees or under winding, twisting roots and hope they couldn’t smell his fear, the thing that seemed to draw them.

Ronan was looking for a place to hide when he stumbled upon the boy for the first time.

In the gloom of the dream forest, the boy was surrounded by light, a hazy glow that hardly penetrated the dark. Crouched on the ground, he had both hands pressed to the forest floor, and from between his fingers bright green vines rose.

A Question of Space - Adam looked impossibly miserable. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost the fake skin that covered his left ear. More likely it’d been ripped off shortly after he’d left the Pig, leaving his implanted ear on full display. He was still in the clothes he’d been wearing the day the privateers took him and it didn’t look like he’d been afforded a shower. Dried blood crusted near one corner of his lips and under one nostril. His right temple was mottled by a days-old bruise.

Stars above, Ronan loved him.

Open Door - “I can put it back together. I used to be a mechanic.” Adam put down the heating element and picked another one up. “How was church?”

Ronan never told Adam where he went on Sunday mornings, but between what he wore when he left the house, always black slacks, a black button down, and a black tie, and his frequent invocation of the Blessed Mother, Adam determined Ronan was Catholic and his destination was mass. He had never brought up his assumption before, but was glad he finally did, if only for the slightly stunned then indignant look that crossed Ronan’s face.

“It was fine. Enlightening. Gospely. I’d ask you to come except I think you’d burn up as soon as you crossed the threshold."

Tagging @iammistressofmyfate, @your-void-senpai, @superstringtheory, and @mychemicalrachel if you are at all interested!

[nokiareptilestonaniteandlumen]

Dear Readers, How's it going? Good, I hope. 

For the last 6 months I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for anything AI related that I could understand, and today, I’m finally going to weigh in on Sam Altman’s brainchild, ChatGPT.

First disclaimer, I’m not a professor, nor an expert. Nowhere near it and since I started this blog about 1 year ago, I have been pursuing a career in tech, so I’m a noobie. I thought I’d go down the rabbit hole of neural networks because lots of experts are hinting towards it as the future. With a formal education in communications from the Univ of Tenn @Chatt, I know enough about research, media, and business to be dangerous. Second disclaimer, since this new wave of tech was recently released, I have had the pleasure of picking at it abroad, therefore in two different languages (3 if you count Wolfram, a computational language). My research will be presented at the bottom, however, I mainly relied on 2 sources because I simply preferred their direct approaches. Warning - were about to get into the weeds, ***obligatory gulp of coffee***

First was an interview conducted by The New Yorker. In my intro I asked you guys, “How’s it going?” I bet you didn’t answer like ChatGPT, “ As a language model, I do not have the ability to experience or do anything. Is there anything else I can assist you with?” You probably sound more like this, “I’m fine, thanks.” Quite the different approach, but exactly the same as Siri. This is important because it is how we differentiate chat bots from humans. Which leads to the second question - why is it that you are a you then if you aren’t a sentient being? This makes me think of men and their cars. For me, I have only talked to a car to pep talk it into making it to the next gas station. You spend your good and bad times with your car. When you aren't a grease monkey/mechanic and she makes a weird noise or doesn't do what you want, people resort to talking to it and make loosely based comments based on these behaviors sometimes to appease it or treat it. We could go further with the similarities of these relationships, but the analogy screeches to a halt because cars don’t talk back, unless you're Chuck Norris.

Back to the interview, the answer it gives is interesting albeit creepy. It says it’s for you (the user) to feel more natural. Evidently, our brains aren’t wired to speak to AI. But it’s this inauspicious start that sets the mood for the article and makes the AI seem unsettling at the least and perhaps a little manipulative.

My research then went to the tech side from watching Stephan Wolfram do a 1-hour breakdown on his blog that I think is worth checking out. If you’re in a hurry, I have taken my time to bring you my highlights. His perspective is one of greatness, as a CEO of an eponymous research company, and a neural network researcher.

I wanted to learn how the technology works and be able to explain it in broad terms before testing or adapting to everyday life. Like in life, it’s always best to gain knowledge of something foreign, before blindly collaborating with or passing away precious past time with it. This topic was different than most. It was hard to read about on platforms like Twitter. These sites thrive off of outrage, I was coming to this conclusion after laboring through posts that only boiled down to shock value. Or as the writer, Bounthavy Suvilay (Indie Games 2) aptly puts it, (they) ‘only benefit social media networks by keeping their users captive in a heightened emotional state’. I’ll add to this, they are a great place to find pessimism as compelling as it is obscure.

So what is it? ChatGPT is based on the fact that there is regularity in the English language, and it may be even deeper than we thought, it  takes this structure (grammar, literary tools,etc.) and assimilates what we know. As you know its goal is to complete your text, but it does this by taking everything it’s dealing with and grounds it up to numbers called weights as opposed to a computer which operates in 1s and 0s.

After this, the AI uses what it knows about the English language and returns (at a rate of 1 word at a time) the outcome and that’s as far as I can understand technically. Again I’m not a computer scientist so I’ll stop there and leave you with the quote, “the simplest answer is usually most likely the correct one”. What is it with ChatGPT’s super celebrity status though, why are so many people becoming users? Its wild success in the short time it’s been available makes apps like Instagram seem novel. I don’t get it. But I was obsessesd with the movie Phenomenon featuring the John Travolta. Is it the ol saying if it’s free it’s for me… Most of the internet world can speak or understand the English language. This might be a helpful start.

Back to Wolfram, in the Q&A portion of his blog, I loved how he wistfully entices his audience by flaunting his 45 years of expertise casually stoking the fire of the deeptech industry, which has been around for years. Experts consider 2012 a milestone when Googlex found it possible to train and use deep neural nets. Concentrating on ChatGPT, it's not only scraping the internet, it’s picking up regularity in the way humans speak/write similar to how we learn. But some aspects may be deeper and it’s likely picking up haptics from a space where we have yet to be able to artificially describe. Maybe that last part is a stretch and unprovable, but may be as the tech inevitably progresses. In the end, Wolfram draws parallels with other aspects of biology and says in theory these features can be attributed to other animals. He was vague but sounds a little like Dr. Doolittle to me.

On this animal topic, let’s take a dog, any kind, your family pet, a sheep dog, or even a police dog. According to Meta’s chief AI scientist Yann LeCun, ChatGPT in its current evolutionary stage resembles a canine, and it will take the next 30 years to reach human intelligence.

But back to my question, what makes this app different? My take is when people seek new toys/games/etc., especially ones that try to fool the brain, we get this stubborn and relentless urge to test its limits until one is fulfilled. And in this respect, ChatGPT has passed with flying colors. If you have tried the app, take the example of ‘tokens’. OpenAI engineers are like “the house” in a casino except instead of cards they deal in workability, the game is how closely can their ‘tokens’ work to sound like logically sounding answers according to human’s current understanding of the topic. This token can be reinserted into this neural net until one’s tiny heart is desired, at the same time the next prompt is fed back into the machine working in its favor as feedback. Until, you can no longer trace the token back to its original form — meaning you cannot ever truly arrive at a perfect answer. The boundaries are also limited by how many tokens can be used. And to reduce server usage, OpenAI started limiting tokens.

I don't want to mince words, but they haven’t sold me on it. I decided to learn about it before trying, and I’m glad I did. They essentially released the beta to collect data, but that’s not why I turn up my nose. It’s my background in sales, I have to be sold on stuff before buying it/using it. And frankly, the world obsessing over something is not enough to interest me. The pessimist in me still strives to find utility. For now I’ll stick with Google. I know it’s different and old skool, but in the end they use algorithms that take your words, or what ChatGPT refers to as prompts and quickly lead you to an answer that still satisfies my little heart.

I really loved the spirit of how creatives saw the utility in strong-arming sucky machines with it. I’m referring to this Foxbusiness.com article where it tricked a task rabbit by playing a person who is blind in order to forgo a CAPTCHA. Sounds like a wee-bit Black Mirror, duuuude. I had to investigate further on the subject to find out visually impaired are truly struggling with CAPTCHA. Something I never thought about. I then uncovered some even cooler news. This minority who has trouble seeing can now use ChatGPT to ID things in photos. Side note: what a terrible security system CAPTCHA is. I’d argue this invention is as annoying as the pop-up.

Also, I want to address people profiting from AI-written books by selling them via sites like Amazon. I doubt these guys are actually making money, if so awesome, but as someone who reads I don’t buy it. From a Reddit thread on the other hand, I learned that video game devs are using the LLM to write code. However, it is uber specific code in the video game engine Unity. In fact, it helped code blades of grass to appear more realistic. You can’t just write into the prompt code grass moving and basta! The coder is already skilled and delegates tasks to the AI to save time.

In the end we will undoubtedly come up short in fixing all of society’s problems via using it in its current form, and like most tech advancements, they will likely aid in generating wealth for Big Tech. Speaking of, Reddit is now being hijacked by its most popular mods and (***puts on tinfoil hat***) to my belief, it might have something to do with pressure created from companies like OpenAI's. Why? The threatening of ad revenue perhaps, why sift through hundreds of Reddit comments threads when the machine does it for you. More specifically ChatGPT's operation depends on ‘terabytes of books and Reddit posts, virtually all of Wikipedia and Twitter, and other vast repositories of words’, according to The New Yorker, or as Wolfram estimates ‘a trillion-ish words of texts’ are at its disposal.

Speaking of disposal, let’s not get started on its environmental impact. As I painstakingly try to sort my trash from recycling, ChatGPT servers are sitting in an air-conditioned warehouse 'plagiarizing (sic) essays, sending flowery emails and asking if God exists,' says Aisling Ní ChúláinNo’s (euronews.com article).

At last, we all know when it comes to freemium software or ones being sold for a loss, it’s only the tip of the iceberg. ChatGPT at first seemed to me like a beefed up predictive text finding the most plausible of ways to explain ideas via language, but now I know its use is gaining potential and has a 30-year plan to take the world by storm. I’d like to push it further and interview an OpenAI employee next month.

 **RELATED FUTURE BLOGPOST lol ** - The new wave of enthusiasm for neural networks created by the release of ChatGPT appears promising for the future of big tech with its eco-friendly rating being harmful for its stakeholders.

SOURCES:

What is ChatGPT doing...and why does it work?

https://www.newyorker.com/news/the-new-yorker-interview/its-not-possible-for-me-to-feel-or-be-creepy-an-interview-with-chatgpt

Suvilay, Bounthavy. Indie Games 2. Portland, Oregon, Ablaze LLC, August 16, 2022

[oliviajames1122]

Is my MOT going to be extended due to the Omicron variant?

Expiring MOT test certificates were automatically extended for six months during the initial Covid lockdown, however that terminated on July 31, 2020. Despite repeated lockdowns, the government has not reinstated the certificate extension scheme.

Nevertheless, because the Omicron variant has shown to be extremely infectious and transmissible, it's likely that the scheme to extend MOT testing may be reintroduced if too many MOT test stations close though the government has given no indication that this is being considered at this time.

So, if you are thinking does Covid-19 affect my MOT expiry date, this implies that all drivers must have a valid MOT test certificate on their car, or it will be taken off the road.

Go through your Mot certificate to ensure that it is still valid, if not, book your car in immediately with a car garage in Reading to avoid a fine and points on your licence.

Can you check MOT history online?

Users may find the whole MOT history of any vehicle, as well as other information, on a government website for free.

It's critical to understand the history of any vehicle you're considering purchasing, and it may play a significant role in determining whether or not to proceed with the purchase. To make things easier, the government has created a website that allows you to check MOT history and mileage history of any vehicle by simply typing the registration number into a search engine. Even better, the service is completely free to use.

The site provides extensive information on the car's prior MOT results, including the dates of all previous tests, the MOT test number, and the mileage on the odometer at the time of the test, and, most crucially, whether or not the car passed. This answers the question ‘how to check MOT history’.

Will I be granted an extension, or will I be required to take a MOT test since I live in an area with a high number of Covid infections?

Due to the spike of Covid cases raising alarm across the UK, there are currently no plans to provide MOT extensions in areas that are affected by local restrictions. This means there will be no new MOT extension plan, and all qualified vehicles will require a new test certificate, even if the MOT expires in a region with a high number of Covid infections.

With that being said, go online and search for a garage in Reading to book your next MOT test.

Is it okay if I keep driving regardless of my vehicle's condition?

Even if your vehicle has an extended MOT, the driver is still responsible for making sure it is safe to drive and roadworthy at all times. For operating a vehicle in a dangerous state, drivers might face a fine of up to £2,500, a driving ban, and three penalty points. Look online for car service near me and book your car with a car mechanic to complete a full health check on your vehicle.

What if I've just returned from a trip abroad and have been self-isolating?

There is no longer any option for vehicle owners who are self-isolating due to symptoms or who have returned from a foreign place that is not on the 'safe' list. As a result, it appears that the car must either be removed off public roads and declared SORN, or it must be transported to a MOT centre by someone who is insured to drive the vehicle and is not self-isolating.

A £1,000 penalty might be imposed if a car is left on the road without a MOT.

It's important to note that drivers who drive dangerous cars without a valid MOT certificate can still be prosecuted, so make sure the vehicle is kept in good working order. Check your MOT expiry date and make an appointment for your next MOT test.

[fulokis]

Watched a video of a woman pulling her kids off small world cause it broke down and then walking on the show parts with bare feet and the amount of people saying that it was smart and all the ride operators in the comments are wrong scare me. Here’s my list of reasons as someone who has seen how some of these attractions work as to why you shouldn’t do this.

A lot if not all of these rides can and will shut down if one small thing isn’t working correctly with the machinery, this is for safety and to ensure that people don’t get hurt.

Staff are trained to know what they are doing and ride evacuations are not always simple especially with rides where the track system is water propelled.

There could be a fire and the reason you are stopped is because the fire walls have come down to protect as many people as possible.

Most of the incidents that result in death and injury that come out of Disney are people with preexisting conditions very few are actual ride failures. Some are even a result of people not listening to the keep hands feet legs and arms inside at all times or attempting to exit during the ride.

Cast would much rather have to call custodial to clean the ride car than have you injure yourself trying to get off and go to the bathroom

There will be screws and other foreign objects that have come loose from the various mechanical components around the ride, not to mention people are careless and throw things in the water all the time and you don’t want to step on that

Even if you are going to miss something kindly explaining to guest services helps more than doing something like this, you could potentially be banned from the park for a stunt like this

Often times the ride will start moving immediately if you get caught near a ride car you are in a much more precarious situation than if you were patient and stayed in it one that ultimately could lead to your death

Listening to cast is the best option in a situation like this they are trained and have more information than you, and they experience ride breakdowns much more than you do.

Some rides unfortunately take hours to actually evacuate, most times the line is the first to evacuate the ride because it’s easier to get them out first so you have to be patient.

And this is only from someone who’s talked to ride operators and had them explain what can cause a ride to break down. I don’t know all the ins and outs but I also do know that there are way more safety protocols than most people even think about, and I’m talking like 3 inch binders filled with various scenarios and what to do in case of emergency.

I will also say the max amount of time I’ve been stuck on a ride was 30-45 minutes and I have never been evacuated, and at this point I’ve been to Disney parks way more than I can count. Last but not least listen to the cast members they know what they’re doing.

[usedcarenginesautopartsmiles]

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[intownautocare]

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Comprehensive Auto Repair Services

We understand that your car requires various services over its lifetime to maintain its optimal performance. That's why we offer a wide range of comprehensive auto repair near me services, all under one roof. Whether it's routine maintenance, major repairs, or specialized services, Intown Auto Care has you covered. Here are some of the services we provide:

Air Conditioning Services: Don't suffer through hot summers or chilly winters with a malfunctioning AC system. Our experts will ensure your vehicle's climate control is in perfect working condition.

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At Intown Auto Care, we take pride in our unmatched expertise in handling European makes and models. Our Auto mechanics in Moorestown are highly trained and experienced, ensuring that your vehicle receives the best care possible. With the complexity of modern European cars, it's crucial to trust your vehicle to professionals who understand the intricacies of these automobiles. Our team's dedication to continuous learning and staying up-to-date with the latest automotive technologies guarantees that your car is in capable hands.

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Our team of highly skilled ASE-certified technicians is the backbone of our success. ASE certification represents a high level of expertise and commitment to excellence in the automotive industry. When you come to Intown Auto Care for car repair near me, you can be confident that it will be serviced by professionals who know what they are doing. Your safety and satisfaction are our top priorities.

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[aonemmla]

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Every vehicle should be prepared for the change in seasons. Come see us before you experience an A/C breakdown. We carefully monitor and inspect your vehicle’s cooling system to make sure you’re in control of your cabin comfort. Our auto A/C repair services are complete and effective. When you come to our repair facility for A/C services, they’re done right the first time. Nothing is more annoying than finding out a repair shop has done a partial fix that only lasts a day or two.

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[stephenandsparklesdokorea]

Wednesday September 28th 2022

Jeju Island: Hyeopjae Beach

I started my day early, waking up around 6-6:30 in the morning when Stephen left to drive Gil to the Jeju Airport for his earlier flight, as he was connecting in Seoul and flying back home from the Island. I took to the beach, armed with my GoPro and Drone, but not before stopping at the convenience store for an iced americano and chocolate mushroom cookies (after pregnancy-dreaming about cookies last night!). Annoyingly, I had forgotten my phone cable for the drone since I used it to transfer files the night before and had to walk back to the hotel, but eventually got airborne before dumbly crashing it into the pagoda I was sitting under when i forgot to take it off sport mode for the landing. Fortunately it didn’t suffer any lasting damage.

I spent several peaceful morning hours exploring the sand for shells (scarce), the tide pools teeming with tiny shrimp and hermit crabs, and hunting for octopus among the rocks as the tide gradually came in. I got so lucky and found not one but TWO octopi in the same area where there was very little disturbance of the water from waves and great visibility. Using a shell, I coaxed one out from under its rock and pursued it, getting to see it both blow water from its gills and inking as mechanisms of defense, before it demonstrated its incredible color changing camouflage and briefly leaving the water before settling on another rock to hide under. Incredible, and a peak of the trip, and a bucket list animal to see in the wild.

Stephen found me when he returned from Jeju City and we finished walking the beach then took a little trail back to the hotel where I ate Stephen’s ramen for breakfast while going through photos. Josh and Alexis went to Paris Baguette for breakfast (a staple for them this trip), and we all departed shortly before 11am  for Jeju City.

We stopped to fill our Kia Carnival back up at a  full service diesel gas station then returned it at the autohouse. Stephen got a $20 traffic camera speeding ticket he had to pay there, but it wasn’t hard to do with all the 30kph child protection zones on the island. The rental car company shuttled us back to the airport. I was not a fan of the Jeju airport: it was so packed both times we were there and this morning had long check in lines, although airline employees were pulling people on the earlier flights to the front to ensure they had time to check their bags and make their departures. They made us English speakers wait near the counters for baggage security checks but we were all good this time - no wayward lithium batteries like on the incoming trip. Bags dropped, security was a breeze after Alexis realized there was a much shorter line specifically for foreigners. We had time for lunch at the airport and i was again amazed at the quality and cost of airport food in Korea: our party enjoyed Bibimbap, bulgogi, and udon, all of which were very good and around $7 for a solid healthy lunch. Life is about balance though so we finished off with lemon and vanilla gelato that I shared with Stephen before boarding our plane to Busan, not to be confused with the Blockbuster hit “Train to Busan”. 

[imdoingwhateverisnext]

This Life, Body and Mind

I feel I have been depressed forever and will never get my mind set right. I realize this isn't true, but the bad days tend to stand out more than the neutral or positive days do. This is a survival mechanism I suppose. The bad things become seared into my mind permanently, and the neutral or positive things are as fleeting as a breeze through my hair. It would be nice if the opposite were true.

My limbs feel foreign again. Especially the right leg. The scar is dark, the pain mixed with numbness and stiffness makes it feel less like it belongs to me, and more like a robotic part that I must contend with. I argue with it mentally and cuss when it doesn't do what I want it to (like one might cuss their car for breaking down inexplicably). I have had limb issues for approx 12 years (counting shoulders, wrists, hands and elbows. Unless you want to count the problems I had in childhood when I broke my pelvis, the summer after 6th grade, and I had knee pain the year before and walked with a limp (supposed "growing pains").

I know logically that I have improved by metaphorical leaps and bounds compared to where I was prior to my 2 knee surgeries. In 2010 I remember calling my mom in tears to help me get dressed for work because I couldn't raise my arms. Five years ago, I could barely breathe or walk. So obviously major improvements have taken place.

I suppose the frustration is the time that is wearing on me. Time unable to go places with my kids, time in pain, time in isolation, time unable to function properly, time sitting at home in the same room, time out of work, time not earning enough money to go somewhere. Then I think, it can always be worse and it obviously has been.

Today my mind is beating me up for not healing fast enough, for my body being uncooperative, for my house not being clean enough, for my dogs not being trained well enough, for the muddy prints all over the kitchen floor, for my mood not being positive enough, and for my finances being out of order.

I went to my Dr's visit today. I have lost another 8 lbs. I wish it were more, but it isn't. It is progress; it is just not moving as fast as I would like for it to. Between dieting, feeling frustrated and a little weak, self loathing at times, and lonely a lot, my mental state is something I must work on daily.

The process is slow, but I have been broken down for a very long time. Like a vehicle that hasn't run properly in over a decade, I am fixing problems as they arise, because that is all I can afford to do right now. Each problem takes time and effort and some problems solutions cause further unexpected problems. Those too must be addressed. Sometimes the list of problems becomes so overwhelming I want to shut down, because where do I start?

When I was near death years ago, I didn't think about all of these things. I wasn't expecting to ever be able to do anything again; walk, run, live, love, or even breathe without oxygen assistance. I thought that was it for me. It was simple. I just laid there on oxygen and hugged my kids as much as they would let me, and talked to them about preparing for a future without me in it. Now, I have so many things to do, and no idea how I am going to do them all.

I remember the day I accepted my untimely demise. I said, I am done, I am ready to go. Then I suddenly started getting better. Almost as if the universe or some deity was playing a joke (now that you have given up, I will fix you). It was bizarre to say the least. I have an analogy for how this felt to me when I first started getting better. It felt like I had run the most arduous marathon that lasted my entire life, never letting up until I collapsed and drug my broken body to the finish line unable to take another step. Then whoever was in charge of the marathon moved the finish line another 2 miles away, and started cheering for me to get up and finish. It felt surreal and almost uncomfortable. It might seem ungrateful, and out of context, I might think the same thing. If the recovery process not been so damn difficult and painful on its own, I am sure I would be singing a different tune right now.

It seems like since I was 10 years old, struggle and difficulty have just been a part of who I am and what my life was supposed to be like. Nothing would come easily, no matter how "gifted" I was in the IQ department, which is not the same as smart. Being on the "spectrum" is socially stunting and having a high IQ just means people expect you to be able to do anything brain related with ease. I wish it were that simple. I would rather be just smart.

Before my body and lungs decided to give up on me, I was working in home health. During the year of the forest fires fires (which by themselves were surreal). We were surrounded on nearly all sides by raging fires. I drove through thick smoke every day and my car was always covered in soot. Some days I would drive with a damp towel over my face because the smoke was so thick. One day I stood in my yard and looked up at the grey sky and smoke, the ashes fell like snow all around me and in my hair. I love snow. I didn't love this. The silence was almost deafening and a more apocalyptic scene I could barely imagine.

Over a 5 year period, I lost several friends and family members to different things. Some accidental, some tragic, some natural. Loss can be devastating because regardless of the circumstance, the person is no longer here.

After I was put on oxygen at home and even months into my actual recovery, I would have dreams in which I would see and be able to interact with friends and family members who had "crossed over" and I would wake up in tears because I had awakened (I wanted to be back with them). These dreams felt every bit as real as my waking life and memories, and without pain. I would wake up crying, feel the pain return to my body, and wish I were dead.

I spent months thinking maybe my dreams were "Heaven" and my body was in "Hell" during my awake time, and this is what it felt like. Constant pain, loneliness, barely able to breathe, and separation from the people I loved. Unable to play with my kids, buy them things, or do anything for them really. In fact they helped me more than I could help them. It was rather humbling and humiliating. I spent months trying to figure out what I had done to deserve this. That took me down several rabbit holes that I nearly never escaped from. But however I got here, I was conscious and I was a burden to my family and myself. I never want to feel that way again.

Once the recovery process started, it seemed the world went crazy and social media became unbearable and the news was nothing but doom and gloom. Families all around me were fighting. Nothing felt real or right, but this was my "recovery space". My "friends" acted different. Everyone seemed to be acting different, and it felt like I was the only person who was noticing. I was also mindful of the fact that if I said too much to the wrong person, a white van and psych restraints could be waiting for me, among other things. Another feeling I never want to relive.

My house was being entered when I was gone and I would find things left on the counter that hadn't been there prior. My lock was broken and I was terrified of what I was going to come home to until I got the lock fixed. One day, an ice cold water was on my counter partially drank, when I hadn't been home in over 2 hours. I called everyone who would have had permission to be in my home without me there, and none of them admitted to coming by while I was gone.

I stuck a smiley face emoji on my oven and pressed it hard before I walked out the door (the face had several suction cups on the back). When I came home it was in the same spot, but upside down. My son said I must have imagined it. In fact, every complaint I had, people seemed to dismiss as if I was losing my mind. This is another reason I went silent for a long time (fear of the psych ward).

Someone would lurk in my back yard in the dark on occasion, and scream out. It would be loud enough for me to get a chill down my back and a feeling of dread. I kept a golf club or baseball bat handy at the door so I could scare them away and defend myself if necessary. During this time, people would scream at me from their car windows on the highway during the day (different people, different cars). Strangers would flip me off for no reason as they drove past me. These were people I did not know nor recognize. At one point during the height of the mask wearing, I pulled up next to a man in his car. He was alone. He looked at me and quickly pulled up his mask to cover his lower face. It did not feel safe to be here. These occurrences were from sometime in 2017 to the middle of 2019 (roughly...as best as my memory recalls).

I feel more safe now that my door lock is fixed, but I still get twitchy and upset when I hear someone shooting guns close to my house. I do not like that at all. "Someone" has been trying to run me off or just torment me relentlessly for a long time now. If I had better resources, I would have left already. Who knows, but I keep to myself as much as I can. Until I can afford to relocate, I can only hope that those who did most of the tormenting have moved on.

Writing this down is helpful and therapeutic. I already feel better than I did when I first sat down to start typing. When I write it isn't always about making something of quality or even making anything at all. It is more often about getting my thoughts organized, and getting out of me whatever upsetting feelings that might be swirling around.

[boiseautometric]

Call Today:(208) 338-8483. Auto Metric is the BEST auto Repair shop in Boise for foriegn and domestic cars. ASE Certified Mechanics. Great with people too!

[kevinthain]

It is important to take care of your car to keep it in a flawless condition. If you are like most of the car owners who cannot imagine their life without a car, you may get into a lot of trouble if you meet a breakdown. Therefore, you will have to take your car to a classic car repair Athens, service provider.

[rwprincess]

Head Over Feet (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.8k

Synopsis: What’s that sound? It’s another anachronistic Brian Johnson songfic! (Based on Alanis Morissette’s Head Over Feet) You’re one of Bender’s trash-punk friends and things change drastically when he brings the scrawny brain from detention with him to meet you all. Set up in snippets, your relationship develops with Brian, even if you weren’t really looking for a relationship.

CW: Teenage smoking (including reader), swearing, parental abuse (being being kicked out), sexism, angst and fluff

“This is Johnson,” Bender indicated the boy he brought along to your group’s spot under the bleachers.

“Brian, please.” The kid corrected. You eyed the gangly youth from top to bottom; in his sweater over a crisply-ironed collared shirt and khakis, he definitely didn’t fit in here with you all. You’d be called grungy punks at best. You didn’t think any of you even owned an iron and crisp definitely wasn’t your style. You blew out a puff of smoke, exhaling the nicotine from your lungs and shifted your gaze to Bender, wondering what he was at with this. He wasn’t the best guy, but pranking this preppy little nerd by bringing him down to your hangout? That seemed beneath him.

“You, uh, running some kinda charity here, Bender? We’re not exactly Make-A-Wish material, kid.” Scorch told the blonde dweeb and you snorted at the thought.

“Shut the fuck up,” was all Bender said in response. The rest of the twenty minutes of Brian Johnson standing there was of course, incredibly awkward and it was clear to everyone that he didn’t fit in. But that didn’t stop him from coming back a week later. And again a few days after that. And again and again until, well, that dork had grown on the lot of you. While he didn’t partake in cigarette smoking like most of you, he did take Bender up on his weed on several occasions and was actually really funny while high. He did weirdly spot-on impressions and had a sense of humor that none of your group had anticipated.

And, as much as you would vehemently deny it, you liked him when he was sober, too. He was incredibly smart and helpful and while his jokes were different without marijuana in his system, he could be amusing. That first awkward encounter was back in March, maybe April. But now you spent time with him without the convenience of school pulling you together. Now it was June and you sought to spend time with him, even without the group. Tonight, you were laying in a field not far from the high school, just the two of you. You liked to listen to him ramble on about the constellations and the myths about why they were named as they were. You remembered liking that as a kid, but you didn’t remember most of the stories. You knew you could ask him questions about the actual stars, too. Like, the science of it, and he would know. But you’d rather let him ramble and tackle one subject at a time. Even though he focused more on science and math, he was a pretty good storyteller, and right now that provided you with more of an escape than talking about the chemical composition of a star. When he finished his retelling of Ursa Minor’s story, however, he remained silent and didn’t start up a new piece of lore. After a moment, you looked at him to see what the hold up was, but you just caught his eye as his gaze was already fixed on you. Your heart started pounding in your chest because you knew what was coming.

“You know, we could go on an actual date some time.” Brian suggested, breaking the silence. You closed your eyes, almost wincing at the words. He was generally more subtle than this, but the same idea had been brought up before. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Brian. In general, you did, and in the honest depths of your soul, it was as more than a friend. But, every time it came down to this subject, you panicked. You had never been serious with anyone and the thought of dating was completely foreign to you. You had messed around with some guys before but you never had feelings for them. You didn’t know how to depend on another person, to have an actual relationship with them.

I had no choice but to hear you

You stated your case time and again

I thought about it

You sighed, your eyes still closed. You didn’t know what to tell him. Before, he always left it as more of a hint and it was easier to dodge. Now he was just coming out and saying it. Basically asking you out, so you would actually have to turn him down this time. The terrible thing was, you didn’t really want to. The conscious side of you wanted to agree and go out with him, on a proper date. But your subconscious kicked you into fight or flight mode and if you weren’t in the middle of a field, you might have picked flight and walked away. But that didn’t seem to be an option.

“Look, Johnson. It’s not that easy. Just...don’t waste your time on me.”

“I’m already wasting my time on you.” He pointed out, but when you took a peek at him, he didn’t seem upset about it. He was actually grinning about it. “We’re already wasting our time out here. Or at the library, or under the bleachers… So why not like, a movie theater or dinner, or my house?”

“Oh yeah, your mom would love having me around.” You joked, humorlessly. The smattering of times you had met Brian’s mother hadn’t gone swimmingly. You could read the derision in her voice and knew she did not approve of her good little baby hanging out with a ne’er-do-well like you.

“She’d come around. You’re different once someone actually gets to know you.” He meant it as a compliment, but you took it as your out.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You leapt up, indignantly and he just gaped at you like a fish out of water.

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I swear!” He put his hands up defensively as you looked down at him. “Forget it, I’m sorry.” You had victory, he dropped the subject and your friendship could last another night and you could try to pretend like he wasn’t right, that you two weren’t meant to be something more.

*~~~~*

You treat me like I'm a princess

I'm not used to liking that

You ask how my day was

For the most part, working at Bert’s auto shop felt worthwhile and valuable. Other days, it chewed you up and spit you out. It was hard being in such a masculine environment and not fitting into that type. Customers (mostly men, but even the women too) thought that you were less knowledgeable and handy than your cohorts. Bender’s teasing didn’t help that image, either.

Now you slid into the booth at Gino’s pizzeria utterly deflated and defeated. Of course, Brian took notice right away. “Rough day?” He inquired, pushing a menu towards you even though he knew you ordered the same thing every time.

“That’s not even the half of it. Why does Bender hafta be such a dick all the time?!” You asked, incredulously but sincerely, diving right into your problem.

“I don’t know. I think he thinks it’s part of his charm? Maybe it is. I mean, we’re still friends with him.” You nodded at his point, but clenched your fists just the same.

“I just wish he knew when to back off sometimes. Like, he never realizes he’s taking it too far and digging you further into a shithole.”

“What did he do this time?” Brian’s gaze on you was unbroken; it made you feel important, like your opinion, your story, was the only thing that mattered.

“So we got this old guy in the shop today. Beautiful car, so of course he was hesitant with me touching it.” You began and his eyebrows furrowed, already not liking the direction this was going. “And I’m trying to prove myself worthy to work on this car, even though I would just be doing an oil change, which isn’t like a big deal anyway, right? Simple stuff.” You looked to him to get acknowledgement to move forward.

“I mean, I guess. I don’t really know about oil changes or anything about cars. But I know you do.”

“Right, so Bender has to go and make a crack to the old guy about how they won’t let me near it and I’m just the secretary for the shop or whatever. Just a total dick move. But of course the guy believed him and laughed with him and sent me to go get him a cup of coffee? I mean, what the hell is that?”

“That’s not right. And you wear a mechanic’s uniform at work, why would he think--?”

“Because macho man Bender told him I was! He was more believable than me.” You sank back and put a hand up to brace your forehead as the waitress approached the table. You prepared to order your drink when she set down exactly what you would have ordered in front of you and walked away, promising to come back in a few minutes. You blinked at the cup as if it magically had appeared.

“I uh, figured you’d get the usual and you’d need it when you got here, so I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” Brian said and then looked away, suddenly embarrassed by the idea. Since he wasn’t looking at you anyway, you allowed your lips to twitch up into a smile threatening to break out on your face...but only for a moment.

“Yeah, whatever. So anyway, Bender…” you carried on, pretending nothing happened, but secretly cataloguing his gesture in your memory.

*~~~~*

The only thing worse than arguing with Brian or him pissing you off was him making you laugh. There were times that you would go home with sore sides and itchy eyes from the tears that formed while laughing so hard. Then you would always, always reflect on the hours you just spent together, feeling the warmth and butterflies tickle your insides and a nervous heat would prickle your skin as you thought about how happy Brian made you. He never pushed you to do anything; he liked you the way you were. Sure, he would drop hints here and there about how you should stop smoking or give you advice when you had a particularly bad argument with one of your friends, but overall, he just accepted you. And you knew how hard that was to find.

You had never been popular and when junior high rolled around, you accepted that you never would be. You found your own little group of outcasts who understood what it was like to be kicked down time and again, and now he had somehow joined that group too. You knew he understood how it felt. Even though he looked different and came from a very different social circle, he had been looked down upon by his peers all his life. You were guilty of judging him the same way when you first met him, but now you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was cut of the same cloth and you could see yourself in him, which is why you just clicked. And he was so kind and so patient with you. You tried to push him away dozens of times, to put up the barriers and the walls that worked so well for everyone that came before him; you couldn’t be hurt if you never got attached. Where most people gave up and only saw the cold, distant bitch you gave them, Brian always saw something more. He didn’t give up in breaking down those walls, and even accepted just being your friend. That made you love him even more.

Shit, wait. Did you just think about loving Brian? A crush is one thing. Having a buddy to fool around with is one thing. Being in love was quite another.

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

*~~~~*

Mercedes Johnson was all about keeping up appearances, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear her arguing with Brian on the other side of the door, about you. Again. You had known from the second you met her that she didn’t like you. She was instantly worried about the influence you’d have on her son; it was a common reaction from parents based on the way you looked and the company you kept. You would think you’d be used to it by now.

However, it truthfully bothered you more because this was Brian’s mother. You were hoping that she would be different and see the person underneath like her son had, or at the very least, that she would eventually warm up to you. You had no luck with either.

“I’m not comfortable with having her over at the house right now.” You could hear her tell Brian.

“She’s my friend, ma. Of course she’s going to come over--”

“I’m aware of that but you know I wish she weren’t. I would prefer that you keep the company of other friends.” The formality of her sentences while she was still cruelly putting you both down made you cringe.

“You don’t know her because you won’t give her a chance. She’s not that different from my other friends.”

“You have friends in the Physics Club, from Knowledge Bowl, Honor Students. You don’t need the association with a hoodlum like that or John Bender and I don’t know why you keep insisting on bringing them into my home when I have repeatedly told you no. I don’t want them around your sister, or even you!”

“Fine. Then we’ll leave.” You heard the door swing open harshly and Brian was motioning for you to follow him out of the house.

“Brian Ralph Johnson!” You heard his mother cry after the two of you. Brian held open the front door for you and you looked at him cautiously before rushing out. You knew you weren’t wanted there, but you were worried that he wouldn’t come with you. You were even more worried that he would. “You are not leaving this house.” Mercedes put on the most intimidating tone you had witnessed her use.

“No, I am. We are. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t bother coming back tonight if you walk out of this house!” She was now pink-faced and losing all of the reserved, polished look you had seen her have. She had never been so...uncomposed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Brian said and grabbed you by the elbow as he escorted you down the driveway to your car. He immediately got into the passenger seat and as you sunk behind the steering wheel, you glanced at him.

“Brian, this is stupid. You don’t have to---you shouldn’t do this.” The whole situation reminded you of the many times you had been kicked out of your house. This was just another home you weren’t welcome in.

He clenched his jaw in response. “Let’s just go. I’ll figure it out later. Please, just drive.”

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole

You're so much braver than I gave you credit for

That's not lip service

“Your mom gave you a choice, you know. It’s not like she told you to get out. She actually told you not to leave.” You said as you both sat on the trunk of your car, looking out across the field that was slowly turning to a golden hue, both from the afternoon sun and the change into autumn. Neither of your houses were really an option to go to, so you just chose the empty field that you would look at stars in during the summer.

“It’s not like it was really a choice though, was it? I’m tired of her trying to control every part of my life. I need to start thinking for myself, doing things for myself. She needs to understand that I’m going to do what I want, and like who I want to like.” He looked at you meaningfully for a moment, but you looked away quickly. It was too heavy for you to process right now.

“That’s a big step. I’m really impressed with you for standing up for yourself.” You told him, and he gave you an appreciative, heart-stopping smile in return that caused your cheeks to flush. Your parents had shouted at you to leave so many times before, any time you were ‘inconvenient’ for them, that it was hard to relate to someone who chose not to stay. But you wanted to support him and you did feel proud of him today. You thought back to the most recent event in which you had been dismissed from your family, and how you had tried to take it out on Brian:

You slammed your locker and watched him almost jump out of his skin. “I don’t want to talk about this.” You growled at Brian.

“I understand that, but you need to. You can’t just--”

“Just what?”

“You can’t just act like nothing happened or run away from it...run away from here.” You had been disciplined at school yet again and your parents had had enough. You had a big fight with them the night prior and did not sleep in your own bed. The tiredness racked your body today and you were stiff from sleeping in your car. If it weren’t for the social aspect, you wouldn’t have bothered coming to school. But you quickly realized you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone, and you were only making the situation worse.

“Like hell I can’t.” You stated, quickly turning to walk away.

“Y/N, don’t. Come on, talk to me. Tell me what happened. We can figure it out together.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, bucko. I’ll be fine. I’ll do this on my own. I’m used to that anyway.”

“But you don’t have to be alone, Y/N. That’s what I’m saying! That’s my whole point: I’m here for you!”

“I didn’t ask you to be, Brian.”

“No, because friends don’t have to ask.” His words scared you. Nobody had so adamantly offered to be a safety net to you before.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “we’re great friends. We’ve bonded so much in the, what, four months you’ve known me?” You rolled your eyes, trying to make him feel uncomfortable, to drive a wedge between you. You only knew how to put up walls, how to run.

“You know we are.”

“Yeah, sure, right. Friends. Not like you want to sleep with me or anything.” You tried to drive another knife into him, to play it off like he was following you only because he had a crush on you, one you tried to pretend wasn’t reciprocated. “It’s not going to happen, Brian. So just accept that we’re not friends.”

He let you get about three steps away before you heard him say, “No. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. Sure, part of me wants something more, but...I care about you, Y/N. And if we can just be friends, I am happy with that, I swear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t try to shut me out or walk away or act like you’re fine. I know you well enough to know you’re not.” When you turned around, you could see that he had tears rimming his eyes, threatening to fall, which made your own tears spring up as well. “I am your friend. I’m not going to just let you go and do something stupid. You are going to talk about this. If not to me, then someone else. But you can’t just run away or sleep in your car or, or…”

“Okay.” You said, softly.

“Okay?”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. I screwed up again and my parents kicked me out. So what do I do?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I...we’ll think of something.” He began to tell you, but you bit your lip and drowned him out in your own sobs. Everything crashed in on you at once; you hadn’t escaped in time. You slid down your locker wall and sat on the floor. Brian joined you and put his arm around you tentatively.

You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

After that day, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You tried your best to brush him off, to hurt him, to land irreparable blows. But it was all in vain; he stuck by you. You admired how he stood up for you, for your relationship, whatever that meant. He didn’t back down, even though you knew he genuinely cared what you thought. He was willing to put everything on the line just to be with you, in whatever capacity you would allot him. And today, he had chosen you again. He had picked a fight with his mother and chosen you. He placed you above being safe and comfortable and at home right now.

“I’m sorry, this must seem so stupid to be complaining about. I know I don’t have it that bad, it’s just that--”

“No, your problems are valid, too. Your mom sucks.” You told him and he laughed, “But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t...weird to have someone be given the choice to stay instead of being yelled at to get out and that you’re worthless and---I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this about me.” You said softly, looking down at your hands.

“No, I get it. It’s gotta be on your mind a lot, the uncertainty. Plus, I don’t mind talking about you.” He nudged your shoulder with his own, trying to be playful but you knew he meant that. He always put you first. You couldn’t help your next impulse as your hand shot up to cup his face and you leaned in and kissed him roughly. You weren’t entirely sure why you had done it. It would probably change everything and you couldn’t tell if you were doing it selfishly to feel like someone cared or to keep him around or because you truly wanted to. Of course, he kissed you back, and the feeling it gave you pushed a lot of those doubts from your mind.

You're the best listener that I've ever met

You're my best friend

Best friend with benefits

What took me so long?

*~~~~*

The kiss in the field still didn’t mean you were “together.” Realistically, it complicated things for a while. You avoided Brian for a couple of days and didn’t discuss it when you finally caved in to your desire to see him. He didn’t bring it up either, even though there were many times he would look at your lips like he wanted to make a move again, but you never talked about it. Things began to look “normal” after about two weeks. You spent time at the record shop, or under the bleachers with your friends or in the library with his friends. He nagged you about giving up smoking and you finally listened, much to his surprise.

“What made you finally decide to quit?” He asked, looking at the nicotine patch on your arm. You shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth.

“I guess I just finally got tired of you being a broken record, mother hen.” You teased him, but he just smiled because he was happy with your choice. The truth of the matter was, you had done it for him. While you weren’t with him, you wanted to be. You didn’t want to keep doing something that bothered him so much, but you also knew that eventually, your habit of smoking would cost time with him and you didn’t want that. You lied to yourself that you didn’t want a relationship and weren’t thinking about a future with Brian, but you were. Every time he helped you study or encouraged you to do your best, the time your parents were out of town so he had made you his “specialty” of spaghetti in your kitchen, when you drove him around singing songs together on the radio...you thought about doing those things with him forever and instead of the fear you used to feel at such a thought, you felt happiness. You anticipated a future with him, something to look forward to.

I've never felt this healthy before

I've never wanted something rational

I am aware now

I am aware now

*~~~~*

“It’s kind of weird, yeah. But they’re cute together, I guess.” You had just returned from a movie with Bender and Claire. You were surprised at how long their relationship had lasted, especially since you had hated Claire at first. You assumed she was dating Bender as a statement, but it had been over six months and they were still together and it just seemed to work.

“It must be nice to have someone like that. Even if they don’t make sense, they care about each other. It just must be a nice thing to have a relationship like that.” Brian looked at you for a moment before backpedaling, realizing he must have made it sound like he was guilt-tripping you. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you out again. I really just was complimenting them--”

“Well, maybe you should.” You cut him off.

You realized how rare a find like Brian truly was. He always put you before himself; he listened to all of your problems and knew when to offer solutions and when to just listen. He was endlessly supportive, and kind. He kept taking giant risks just to be with you, to show you that you mattered to him. You knew, without him saying it, that he loved you. Why else would someone go to the lengths he did, just to make you happy? You had tried everything to shake him, to get rid of him so neither one of you would be in too deep to get hurt. But he stayed, and now, you wouldn’t want him to go anyway. It was too late; you were both already in too deep.

He just blinked at you, sure he had heard incorrectly. “Wh-what?”

“I said, maybe you should. Ask me out again.”

“Y/N, do you want to go out with me?” He asked, unsure. It felt like a setup, but he knew you wouldn’t do something so cruel to him.

“Yes.” You replied, softly.

“Why?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I guess you won me over.” You chuckled, but he failed to see the humor in it, so you changed to a more serious tone. “Brian, I thought that these feelings would go away, that you would go away. Lord knows how hard I’ve tried to push you. But...you didn’t and the feelings didn’t. I-I love you. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep loving you, I don’t want to waste my time with anyone else. And...And I think that you love me.”

“I do.” He breathed quietly, with zero hesitation.

“So, why fight it any more? I was afraid that I would hurt you, but I think I’ve already done that and you’ve stuck around.” He nodded in confirmation of that fact. “And I was scared that I would get hurt but...but I’ve realized that you won’t do that to me, either.”

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

He took your hands in his, “You’re serious? You really want this? Because, you know how I feel. How I’ve always felt.” You nodded in response, tears quickly filling your eyes, which was a rarity for you. He leaned in towards you to kiss you, for the first time since your conversation in the field over a month ago. He waited for you to be ready in every aspect of your relationship and you had never known so much love and respect before. It took some adjusting to, but he had pulled you in and made you fall for him again and again.

Just gonna tag my buddy...

@90sinequity