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cheezeybread · 1 year ago

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Hello :) My request is MC/Yuu overblotting- but not with magic! What I picture is them having a nervous breakdown. It starts off with them hyperventilating and being unresponsive. Then it devolves into them screaming their head off until their voice starts going hoarse and hitting anyone who tries to touch them. Maybe even throwing and destroying things. Afterwards, they refuse to speak to Crowley- even avoiding him- due to his role in their breakdown. In my mind their breakdown is caused by long term stress and triggered by Crowley telling them that there is no way for them to go home.

YES

I love this idea, it's been bouncing around in my brain for so long <3

TW // Harsh language, violent depicitions, graphic metaphors, ANGST

Uhhhh, I took some creative liberties here and there, so some things (mainly regarding Idia and Malleus because I haven't gotten up to their books in the game and refuse to look up spoilers LMAO) may not be 100% canon oopsies!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You were starting to feel exhausted.

Well, that was an understatement, You had felt exhausted ever since you arrived at NCR...but this feeling was something slightly different. It was like a nagging sensation, yet also like some sort of wet rag placed over your mind at the same time. It was concerning, to say the least, but it was something you would have to shrug off until you could find the free time to fix it.

Which most likely wouldn't be anytime soon, knowing how the days went for you.

Grim was always priority number one. Keeping him out of trouble meant constantly keeping an eye on him, de-escalating any fights that he might try to kick up if left alone for a single moment. And since the two of you were technically one student, that meant that his grades were yours. Even though he was the only one out of the both of you that could use magic, he still slacked off at every turn, which left you to straighten every corner he tried to cut, finish every project that he wrote one sentence on and left, finish every alchemy potion he left bubbling on the cauldron, even if you had your own stuff to complete.

Then there were the tasks given to you by Crowley, your "ever so kind" benefactor. Despite his school getting you into this mess in the first place, Crowley considered it your fault, and as such, made you complete various chores to earn your weight around school. Which, paired with your classes, made for a day in and of itself. This isn't to include the yard-long to-do list he gave you at the start of every week, most of the points looking suspiciously like tasks the Headmaster was supposed to do himself...

And there were the students. Some you didn't know tried to kick up fights with you, knowing you couldn't use magic back on them. So you had to learn to avoid these students, or make sure you were always traveling with a friend. And as for your friends, every single one came to you with their problems day in and day out. A dorm dispute, so they needed to crash at Ramshackle for the night and eat all of your food. An overblot. More fights. Homework. Tutoring sessions. Projects they needed your help with.

You shook the thoughts out of your mind and continued walking to class with Grim, the Direbeast nestled in the crook of your arm as you balanced both yours and his schoolbooks in the other arm.

"And then, Ace was all like-" His voice sounded unusually high-pitched today. Or maybe that was just your imagination? Either way, it was giving you a headache.

"YN!" Another voice called out, the owner quickly jogging up to you. Ace and Deuce, ever the duo. You nodded your head at them in greeting, as Grim twisted his head around to look at them.

"Ace! Hah, I was just telling YN about what happened yesterday in the courtyard!" At the mention of the incident, Ace's face blanched, and the boy looked uncomfortable and ashamed.

"Oh, you mean with him and Professor Crewel?" Deuce spoke up, laughing already "Yeah, that was hilarious- remind me again, why exactly did he-"

"YN!" Now came one of the twins- normally you wouldn't have much of an issue telling them apart, but your head was starting to pound even harder now, making your vision a little blurrier. The fact that he didn't greet you with a nickname most likely meant that it was Jade.

"Oh...hey," You greeted, your brows furrowing from the pain in your head.

"Have you been to the greenhouse recently? I seem to have misplaced-"

"SHRIMPY" Ah, and there was twin number two. You felt your shoulders being constricted in a strong hug, much to Grim's dismay

"STAWPIT, YOU'RE CRUSHIN ME!" The Direbeast yowled, practically clawing himself out of your arms and jumping down onto the ground.

"Yo, YN, are you alri-" Ace started, but he, too, was interrupted

"YN!" Oh great! You recognized the Headmaster's annoying voice anywhere. And he waltzed up to you with all the elegance of an unpolished piece of charcoal, one hand reaching out to pull your arms free of Floyd's vice grip, and his other hand dropping a stack of papers into your now-outstretched arms. "Please, finish all of these by the end of this week, if you don't mind. It's papers for the senior's internships this year, and they need to be signed to be official, but I'm much too busy doing...other things...to be bothered."

"Are you still looking for a way to get me home?" You heard yourself mumble out loud, without even thinking of asking that question in the first place. But you had made it a habit to ask Crowley every time you saw him, so perhaps it was just muscle memory.

"Oh!" He chirped, straightening the front of his suit "Ah, yes, well, in my infinite wisdom, I have found out the reason to your barging in on our new-year's orientation, how you came to be here. But as for you returning, hmm, yes, I have managed to conclude that it is thoroughly impossible."

He said it so casually that it took you a moment to digest what had been said.

The students around you had gone silent, and you could feel their eyes all turning to you.

"What." Was all you could manage.

Crowley became increasingly uncomfortable, fidgeting with the watch he kept buttoned to his vest, then brushing off his front side, then folding his arms before repeating the process again "It is impossible to return you home, I'm afraid," he said with as much bravado as he could muster "Now, as for your stay here, since there is nothing left that I can do, you will need to continue to work for-"

Everything seemed to crumble around you in that exact moment. The feeling of damp, dreaded annoyance that had been bubbling up in the back of your mind all day came to the surface at once, and you couldn't help but slam your eyes shut tight against the world. You didn't want to see that damn Crow, you didn't want to see your friends, you didn't want to see anybody!

You opened your mouth to speak in that moment, dropping to your knees, but all that came out was a painful, sorrow-filled wail, so loud and so harsh that you could feel the inside of your throat shred with every passing second.

A puddle of black ink started to fill your mind's eye, growing larger and larger until it was all your brain could think of.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Every dorm in the school was based off of one of the Great Seven. All but for the Ramshackle dorm, a long-forgotten piece of trash that rested on the campus of the school rather than in its own pocket dimension like the others.

Every housewarden embodied the spirit of their designated Great.

Riddle Rosehearts idolized the Queen of Hearts, following every law she had set in her chaotic kingdom, becoming as strict and severe with the enforcement of rules as she was.

Leona Kingscholar was a second-born, raised in the shadow of his older brother and sneered at by his people, and now had to live with the knowledge that he would never be a ruler with the birth of his nephew.

Azul Ashengrotto was an octo-mer, much like the Sea Witch, who specialized in contracts with those who were less fortunate and needed a favor.

Jamil Viper, although not a Housewarden, technically, but some would argue that he deserved to be such, was a consultant for the person in charge- someone he viewed as daft and naive to the ways of the world.

Vil Schoenheit, a man who wanted nothing more than to be considered the "Fairest of All", unable to cope with the fact that there was one who might be better than he.

Idia Shroud, a "loner" by typical standards, was born from a family long cursed, a family seen as Pariahs due to their research and studies.

Malleus Draconia, a descendant of Faes, royalty, with horns that rivaled the Great Thorn Fairy's. Despite longing for human interaction, and simply to be included, he was shunned for his bloodline and odd actions.

But you, Prefect of Ramshackle dorm, had no one to model yourself after.

You were nobody.

Every Housewarden Overblotted, one after another, because they couldn't be the spitting image of the great Seven, because of pressure, because they didn't realize that they were only teenagers who didn't have to be perfect.

Riddle overblotted because he couldn't grasp the concept of being wrong. Leona, because he wouldn't be anything greater than a second-born scum. Azul, because all his work was shredded and he was left with no power to put him above those who bullied him years ago. Jamil, because he had enough of pretending to be someone he wasn't. Vil, because he couldn't admit that he wasn't perfect. Idia, because he wanted freedom. Malleus, because he was tired of himself and the hatred others showed him.

Which only left you.

Nobody.

The nobody who landed in this strange new world, a world in which everyone had magic...except for you. A world were you were less than. A world where you were treated like a burden, despite everyone laying all of their problems on you, demanding you fix them. A world where, no matter how hard you tried, you would always, always be less than.

A nobody.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Then entire campus of NCR shook with your rage and sorrow.

The students both outside and inside stopped, simultaneously looking at whoever was closest to them before running to the source of the wail.

Everyone was silent. What could they do?

It was an overblot, the school's nurse would officially state later, brought on by stress and pushing yourself past the limit. Although you had no magic to push yourself over the edge with, the sheer amount of mental exhaustion you were being put through would work just as well as an exertion of magic, if not more so. In the privacy of their rooms and dorms, assured that no prying ears would overhear them, the students agreed amongst each other that it was more terrifying of a sight than anyone else's overblot they've seen. Yours was one of pure emotion, without any magic to artifically amplify it. Pure and untainted.

And while anyone else who overblotted could only use their magic, you held something far more powerful.

You held the emotions of hundreds of students at NCR. The most top-notch mages and students look to you with a sense of reverence. Whether you knew it or not, you held the strings of the hearts of them all. With one single word, you could cause any of the Housewardens to level entire cities for you, if only to gain your approval. You held the strings of fate for them all, and your pain and suffering was enough to make the same Housewardens, and anybody else who knew you closely- or even in passing- unable to use their magic for weeks after your breakdown.

They just...couldn't seem to use it. It was as if their magic were broken.

When you ran out of breath, finally getting all of your anger out of your system, you inhaled shakily, putting trembling hands on the ground to steady yourself.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a speckle of blood on the concrete below you, where your screams had caused your throat to crack and shred. You could see people in your peripheral vision, your friends, not one of them moving towards you.

Directly in front of you, looking as if he were about to make a run for it, was none other than Dire Crowley. You could see the sky behind him, dark and grey. Was it that color before?

"I-" You started, your voice cracking, but nonetheless heavy with emotion. You stood up slowly, your knees buckling at first, but eventually letting you stand up to your full height. You stood as tall as you could, your shoulders straight and your eyes focused straight ahead, drilling a hole through Crowley's head. Your face was wet from tears, and more were threatening to spill, but you didn't care about that right now.

"I'm done with you, Crowley," You spat, your voice holding a level of hatred you didn't know was possible. "I'm done working to make up for your shit. I'm done risking my life for you when I'm defenseless, when I'm stuck in this god-damn world because of you!" You held up an accusing finger, taking a step forward to jab it in his chest. He stepped back, but you stepped forward again, keeping the distance between you two even.

"I never wanted to be here, yet you treat me like I'm some sort of burden who showed up at your door- you force me to work, force me to be the therapist for children who need fucking help! How many overblotting students have I saved, huh? How many of those were ones you ran from, ones you refused to help with?! When have you ever been on my side? When have you ever stopped to think not of yourself, but me? What about ME, you worthless piece of shit?!"

You took another shaky breath, wiping the blood gathering on your lips with your free hand.

Crowley let out a small breath as you lowered your finger, and you turned around in a small circle to look at the crowd of students surrounding you. There were your friends, some looking concerned, other terrified. Grim was being held by Ace in a comforting gesture, the cat-like beast shaking. Some of the students had unreadable looks on their faces. Others looked confused.

"I'm done." You hissed, half to yourself, and half to the students. Although it was low enough so only those a few feet away could hear you speak, the word got around quickly enough, and the throng of students began whispering amongst themselves.

You ignored the offers of helps from your friends, and stormed off, back to the Ramshackle dorm, house of Nobody.

Ruled by Nobody.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst fanfic #twst #twst x you #twst overblot

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miwiheroes · 10 months ago

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Bylers, we need to talk about something…

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts pertaining to what will happen in season 5 relating to byler recently, as have we all, but I’ve also been wondering about the audience’s reaction to it if it happens.

Actually, i’ve been more concerned not about the GA’s reaction, but our reaction to how they handle it. I just want to say beforehand, that I might be projecting my issues with negativity and conflict (i’m a very very optimistic person it’s rough being on social media these days lmao) and I also very much believe that they will make byler canon in some way or another. It just makes sense with the narrative. But I fear we will never be happy with how they do it and we never learn from our previous mistakes lmao

Before season 4 came out, I sort of was a fan of byler, but i was very very casual, as in I didn’t interact with many fan theories, I wasn’t on twitter (still not on there because I have a phobia of negativity eek) and I wasn’t on tumblr, I would occasionally check out the edits and fanarts and I think I was just Aware of it, because I always root for the gay ship to happen ofc..

So when season 4 vol. 1 came out I was excited about the direction they were taking byler, and I could see that it was finally canon that Will was gay, rather than theorised. When season 4 vol. 2 came out, I had not been on sttwt or st tumblr during the time between the volumes because I had other fandoms prioritised around the time. I watched the Van Scene with my parents and suddenly I was acutely aware of just how gay they were (because I always get scared of watching anything queercoded around my parents lmao).

By the end of season 4, I was like YES! this season was amazing for a byler set up next season, although i was more focused on other characters too. I then kind of saw the byler script stuff but not the full extent of it, and I saw many edits and fanarts of them but that was it!

Now it’s 2024 and I have a major hyperfixation on byler, (due to the season 5 bts and the fact stranger things keeps popping up on my fyp it’s crazy) and now I’m on byler tumblr (not twt tho .. sorry) to find all the evidence I can and get all hyped up for s5! But I’ve also seen old posts from around 2022…

Literally every single one was extremely disappointed from season 4 vol. 2, and I was confused, seeing as I was very happy with it and I liked byler (my fave byler scene is from vol. 2 and no it’s not the van scene). If I’m being totally honest, and I might get some hate for this, I think we all had wildly, wildly high expectations and the disappointment was our own doing.

I personally never really judge a show before it’s finished (obviously not sitcoms and shows like that) unless it has really really terrible writing ofc, but I always choose to reserve judgement until all the character arcs are wrapped up and I can look back and see why things were made to be.

I understand the whole anger with Mike’s behaviour towards Will and how Will was treated poorly by him, but isn’t that the point? Mike loving Will back in season 5 would then be more satisfying after all that. It’s a set-up for the next season, no?

I don’t know why or how people thought that Mike would suddenly resolve all his internalised homophobia or something during that season, and I reckon if the whole season had come out at once instead of two volumes (i hate the two volumes thing sm omg) people would have been much happier because we wouldn’t have had time to create insane theories or unrealistic expectations that, let’s be real, were not in line with what we have seen so far with byler.

So, I just want to say that I’m a little afraid for season 5, because I know that byler will likely be canon, but people just won’t be happy because it won’t be in the exact way that they had theorised. Sorry to break it to you, but you, random person on tumblr, are not a screen writer. More specifically, you’re not a screen writer for stranger things.

I think it’s fun to theorise at the moment, but I just want to remind people that this pattern has happened before and we never learn? Like, none of our theories are coming true. Not one of them. Did I theorise the exact van scene? Did I theorise the part at the end where Mike grabs Will’s shoulder? No. But am I happy with those scenes? Hell yeah.

So on the build up to season 5, I just want to caution everyone to not assume that specific things are going to happen when it’s just a result of an echochamber (such as the milkvan breakup scene being right at the beginning or the painting being brought up). You’ll just be angry for no good reason.

The only reasons I’m personally going to be angry with how they handle byler is:

1. If it’s not canon and Will’s love goes unrequited/ he has another love interest somehow…

2. If either of them die after having a relationship during season 5 (bury your gays is stUPID)

3. If one of them dies before the other gets to tell them they love them/ kiss

4. If they get together without Mike apologising (it could be in literally any way, obvious or not) for his poor behaviour.

But that’s it, the rest of it is literally up to them.

Hope ur not too mad, but it just needed to be said.

#byler #byler endgame #season 5 stranger things #anti mileven #lets be realists here please #byler nation

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ckret2 · 11 months ago

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I have the Sparkly Coin brainworms (fic when) but isn’t Mabel getting bill’s powers kind of busted/a huge responsibility? Unless they’re only active within gravity falls’ bubble, or limited to entering minds.

But I do like it as a twist to the “fantasy vs. reality” argument since now she can just MAKE fantasy into reality. That and/or making her grapple between entering minds for the benefit of herself (romance lmao) or others

Fic when I finish the million chapter Bill redemption fic I'm already working on. Sparkly Coin is a fun idea I think about on the side when I've used up all my writing juice for my actual main project. If you want to see me write about Bill and Mabel and them being a whole lot alike (but not the same person), you can read that fic.

It sure is busted/a huge responsibility. Her powers come back gradually so she's got a little time to adjust to it all. And I headcanon that with no rift open to the Nightmare Realm her powers are reduced.

But in this case "reduced" is like how Disney's Aladdin's Genie goes from having "phenomenal cosmic power" to having "semi-phenomenal, nearly cosmic" power in the sequels after he was freed. One of the first things she relearns is how to make bubbles of pure madness and "ohmigosh it's JUST like acrylic pour painting except instead of using PAINT you use NIGHTMARES and they're sooo pretty i made like thirty! ... how did they escape the attic"

I definitely see her entering dreams to try to meddle for other people's benefit—she sees a broken teacup, she needs to fix it!!—and needing to learn Not To. Either that or using it to lovingly pester Dipper in his sleep.

#basement creacher #ask #sparkly coin au

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tornoleander · 4 months ago

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Finally Ironed out some ninja designs! I Usually don’t share references but with the behind the scenes stuff I’m doing on my Skybound project I don’t have much else I can share yet.

There is a few headcanon/ Fic stuff in references and powers and the all ninja shot is for first part of Skybound project.

I can share Skybound project Updates! I’m making lots of progress! Trying to focus on p1 stuff so I can put full force into the p2 stuff!

P1 may be ready Summer? 2025

My Skybound talk Video:

* God I have so much to ramble about just when I think I covered something a new angle gets me

* How TF am I supposed to sanely transition from the wholesome reasons I love this season into the horribly problem stuff. Sigh*

* Actually studying videos covering serious topics to navigate how to word things.

* I have to stop drawing so much art for everything or no one will ever see this video.

* The desire to animate my character lipsinking to me is an evolutionary disadvantage I will resist.

Cannon compliant Animatic:

* Song is Ironed out fought a while adding voice lines and I’m way more excited than I thought I’d be for this animatic because I thought it would be overshadowed by how strongly I feel about the other 2. But damn.

* I’m storyboarding after like my life depends on it rn

* Really trying to capture Nya’s character Ark which sent me right back to the video script because I remembered that one reddit post calling her a bitch and rage wrote for 2 hours.

* I am determined to make people see how good her character arc actually is.

* Throwing Jay shade in this one lol he was kinda awful even with being manipulated.

* Trying to convey clear Ideas and story through art is pain but also addicting.

* This is meant as a leading to both part two animatics, but bbnb Kai is shorter than wytyaa Kai. The difference is significant everything else pre dinner with Nadakhan is the same. The other head cannons are almost aligned as far as I know. It’s JUST Kai. What do I do with him?!? Lmao Might just distance him from the other ninja so you can’t tell how tall he is. Thank goodness he is the most gullible and first to wish it all away

P2 out like December if I’M lucky TT

Even though I should focus on first things first, I can’t help myself. these fics have lived rent free in my brain for like 2 years and despite plans shifting the excitement of drawing the story I read and put to music in my head is a force of nature. Thanks Adhd

Wytyaa:

* I storyboarded about half the scenes I want to. Songs are decided but a few parts I’m waiting for the rest of the story for.

* I think I’m going to mess with color palette. I really want to capture the emotion and intensity. I’m learning the full potential of my art and

* I need Final ch released for maping out the second half.

* BUT I AM NOT READY TO READ IT @mondothebombo And from what you told me I don’t think I’ll be able to finish P1 by then. cries*

* I wanna capture the feeling reading wytyaa.

* May make my wytyaa specific refs so I can make animatic art I can post early.

Bbnb

* It’s all storyboarded and half animated

* Thinking about redoing most the earlier stuff, consistency has been a problem

* Also was to mess with colors, dark backgrounds and intense colors.

* I fought with my ref forever to find good enough lightning scar colors cause figuring out the right amount of contrast is pain.

* So now I want to redraw my bbnb scar references a third time.

* May draw other bbnb specific refs so I can make some art for the animatic I can post here early or on on my old A03 book

If you have Any questions feel free to leave an ask! I answer all eventually sometimes I do save em up though so if I didn’t answer something yet, Sorry I will get to you.

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vettelsvee · 4 months ago

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As for my upcoming projects since you asked me (just 1 person)... Comments and opinions are completely open, so if you have any doubt, request or anything you want to tell me don't hesitate to do so pls! 💖

⋆ SECOND CHANCES SAGA: the current ones, but also i'm gonna be adding a Lando series and a short Yuki series! ↳ BEHIND CLOSED DOORS: Lando Norris x PR!Reader, involving Lando's OnlyFans account getting leaked by his fans and his identity being revealed, and him talking with his PR about what it would best for him... just to came to the conclusion he could start faking dating, but ending up falling for his PR somehow ↳ BURNOUT RECIPE: Yuki Tsunoda x Catering member!Reader, involving Yuki and Reader taking part of a RB promotional video where they both cook together, but Yuki adds to the recipe an ingredient Reader is allergic to

⋆ A WISH YOU HEART MAKES: Royal!Oscar Piastri x Reader fics

⋆ WHATEVER IT TAKES: My Formula 1 AU Marvel Cinematographic Universe x Reader, including the following drivers for now (ideas and opinions are open for characters x drivers associations): ↳ Sebastian Vettel as Captain America ↳ Oscar Piastri as Spider-Man ↳ Fernando Alonso as Iron Man ↳ Carlos Sainz as Winter Soldier ↳ Lewis Hamilton as Falcon/Captain America

⋆ WHAT AM I CURRENTLY WRITING? First of all, I’m completely focused on my final degree tesis/research project/educational intervention project, which is about the impact of Social Media and Technology on the learning of English as a Second Language in Primary Education. Apart from that, trying my best to write Taylor Swift's based fics! After that I'd be focusing on the series + fics since by 2026 I'd like to focus completely on AU series I'd be posting on Wattpad, as well as other original projects I've been having in mind.

Hope you like this all! Sometimes it's exhausting trying to keep you all updated so I hope you understand sometimes I struggle with updating (and remember that I do extra work since English is not my first language, so I write in Spanish and then do translations in English thatake me more time than writing lmao). I just wanna finish university to focus entirely on writing (and also going to the concerts and holidays I'm going to go) I need to get my degree I'm tired of it

#vee's ted talks #f1 x reader #second chances saga #lando norris x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #mcu #marvel #formula 1 #sebastian vettel x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #oscar piastri x reader #royal!oscar #carlos sainz x reader #fernando alonso x reader #taylor swift #whatever it takes #a wish your heart makes #f1 #formula 1 x reader

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 7 months ago

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Android (Leona) AU - Commission Piece

Thank you so much @nemisisnemi for the commission!!! (And for also being patient with me LMAO) So, general worldbuilding first, the basic headcanons for every character, Leona-specific building and a Nemi x Leona drabble to finish it off.

If you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, here's my (slightly out of date) comms info. Otherwise, just like/reblog/comment. It means a lot!!

----------------- General Worldbuilding

NRC - Night Raven Conglomerate

Night Raven Conglomerate is known globally for many of their businesses, however their most notable and profitable model comes from Yokai Tech Industries. YTI is responsible for the development of state of the art androids, available for public use. While widely referred to as 'andy's' or 'mechs', YTI has a model for all your personal and business needs, for any budget. (Any budget being from rich, to filthy rich) Each droid model name is indicative of it's role and what it's been programmed to do. Regardless of model, be aware that your bot will have:

Safe search on

A personality chip *please note it will take some time for your bot to develop its personality. It must cater itself to you as an owner and have time to research and develop a personality from external sources. This may mean your bot chooses a name for itself besides its serial number if you do not choose to disable this function

A direct connection to our troubleshooting department

Recording on **all bots 'eyes' or optics are set to record the world around them in order to create a database for themselves and be able to recall old files in order to learn

A user guide and personal password/key in order to access settings in back panel (including most items above)

A recharge station

The Models M.E.C.H- (Managing Everyday Chores and Homemaking) The most common bots on the market, and also, the cheapest! These bots are perfect for individuals and families, taking care of everything from meal planning and budgeting to getting kids ready for school and cleaning! They'll manage household finances and run your errands for you.

M.E.C.H's have a humanoid design, but are manufactured in a white-coloured metal alloy. Most have a feminine appearance, but by request/with permission from their owners they may alter their appearance. Clothing is simulated by internet research and metallic projections that allow them to emulate cloth. (M.E.C.Hs from the factory are often dressed in a maid-like outfit or in a pant suit.) M.E.C.H's are able to alter their "hair" style and colour, so long as it is considered appropriate by their owners. They are also able to shift their height slightly. (this design is somewhat inspired by Dominic Cellini on twt/insta)

M.E.C.H's are very durable and also easy to fix. They are capable of repairing themselves from damage after watching a mechanic fix the specific issue once, or contacting our troubleshooting team. M.E.C.H's are waterproof on their hands, and water resistant overall. They are fire resistant, and are equipped with safety measures in case of an emergency. They also have a direct line with 911. **A business model of M.E.C.H is also available for minimum wage jobs, usually those requiring hospitality skills. They are more susceptible to the emulation of emotion however, than the O.T.T.O model, and may shut down when dealing with a customer. This can usually be avoided by turning off the personality chip temporarily.

---------

O.T.T.O - Occupational Transport and Telecommunications Organizers (O.T.T.O) is a great model to consider for the workplace.

O.T.T.O bots are programmed to help increase efficiency and intrapersonal bonds in the workplace, comparable to an automated secretary. O.T.T.O bots do the following up, so you don't have to. Progress reports and statistics are created and analyzed in record time. They are also trained to deal with H.R conflicts in a calculated and unbiased manner. However, O.T.T.O bots have also recently been taking their place behind the wheel for public transportation, currently the only model approved to drive. So long as they are given ample time to either charge OR refuel, (like a car), they are a much safer option on the roads than humans are. They are a great choice as a chauffeur,( and YTI has proved as such by starting a cab company under a different name/brand.)

On public transit, their appearance is much more industrial than their office-working models. Most O.T.T.O bots tend to remain in their factory settings, remaining completely chrome in colour. They often maintain a bulkier looking chest and shoulder area for the sake of keeping potentially unruly costumers in check, though their arms and legs are capable of stretching and appear similar to bendy straws.

While these bots are reliable, they also seem susceptible to wear and tear. It's often cheaper to replace a bot when it no longer serves it's function properly. (cough cough planned obsolescence cough)

It is not recommended that these bots work in hospitality. YTI is currently working on O.T.T.O bots that may be considered for work in trades, though this has mixed reviews from the public as of right now, over concerns of the bots taking over jobs that require more certification than simple safety and a driver's license.

--------

EM-RR - Emergency Response Robot (often referred to as an "Emery")

This bot is built specifically with human safety in mind. It's only objective is to rescue human lives. These bots are manufactured to look like humans for the most part, as studies have shown receptiveness to being rescued was improved the more humanoid they appeared. These bots are equipped with basic paramedic training, fire fighting, extensive knowledge of the law and how it applies, medical equipment like that found on an ambulance, and search and rescue supplies, including a detachable drone that is a part of them. EM-RR's are also equipped with extra rations of food, water, blankets, toys, and radios. Besides M.E.C.H's, EM-RR's are the best bot to have around kids as they are often able to handle the responsibility, breakdowns and tantrums easily. These bots are also built to withstand extreme temperatures, pressures, and fluids.

They are not yet approved to operate in a rescue mission without a supervisor as many are still learning what does and does not harm a human in terms of handling them.

-------

E.L.U - Entertainment and Leisure Unit

These bots are made for the big screen, often boasting the newest and best technology YTI has to offer. Their appearances are highly dynamic and can switch on a dime according to their whims.

E.L.U's can only be afforded by the highest bidders, and only 1200 models have been made worldwide for the public to buy. (About 35 models are used for YTI's ad campaigns and as actors in movies, and of those models, only 1 is used as a social media 'influencer'.).

E.L.U's are equipped with exceptional emotion-imitating technology. They are able to replicate voices without issue, learn choreography immediately, possess perfect pitch, and are capable of playing any percussion or string instrument.

E.L.U's have been through the most rigorous testing and development. While being able to sustain damage fairly easily, nanotech allows for superficial markings and damages to repair itself. Any damage that occurs on a software level is unheard of, but would be covered by insurance. At least, unheard of to the public

----- Custom Bots (The YTI is currently working to develop a 'build your own bot' program for young aspiring engineers. The program will allow promising individuals to create a new android using the technology available to them in the facility, and also lead to streamlining the process by which someone could order a custom bot. Prototypes have been promising.)

-----

Rapid Fire World Building

Riddle - human toddler Trey - EM-RR - Firefighting specialty Cater - lives at home (mansion) with his dad, who is a banker and investor of Y.T.I Deuce - Mechanic Ace - Was the Roseheart's M.E.C.H, took care of Riddle, began to disobey orders from Dr. Rosehearts, was slightly dismantled and discarded of Leona - Explained Below (E.L.U) Ruggie - O.T.T.O bot, mainly working in taxis. Very friendly, has to do constant maintenance on himself so they don't take him out of service Jack - Mechanics assistant, M.E.C.H Azul - inherited his grandma's restaurant, investor of Y.T.I, has several M.E.C.H's at his disposal Jade - is set to take over his mother's jewelry business Floyd - no formal training as a mechanic, does the upkeep for the Ashengrotto restaurant. Has mixed feelings about the M.E.C.H's, sometimes breaks them just to put them back together Jamil - a hybrid of all three bots, meant to attend to Kalim. Has additional security measures built in place to act as a guard. Kalim - human, investor and advocate for android rights, as he believes they exist beyond just their programming and should be treated equally Vil - E.L.U owned by Eric Venue. Hates it. Rook - EM-RR - search and rescue specialty Epel - Mechanic. Doesn't really like Y.T.I's inventions. Too close to humans Idia - head engineer of Y.T.I. Can you guess why :) Ortho - DECEASED E.L.U model Malleus - a discarded prototype of the E.L.U model. The workers at Y.T.I believe it's battery is dead, but it has been able to hear everything around it for ages. Kept in the discard area, not even used for parts due to issues that came up during testing. "Cursed" Lilia - one of the engineers at Y.T.I. Starting to question whether the use of A.I was a good idea, the more he works with the newer and newer models. Silver - M.E.C.H's original prototype. It's "old" now, and does not hold a charge well. It is good friends with all the engineers and other workers at Y.T.I. Constantly has a mobile charging pack. Sebek - EM-RR, forensics specialty

Leona Specific Worldbuilding

Falena Kingscholar was one of the first investors for Y.T.I. For the sake of PR and as CEO of his late father's clothing company, he deemed his contributions to Y.T.I's research as charity - such a stunning new invention, such innovation could do so much to improve the lives of those less fortunate. He sealed the deal with action when, on M.E.C.H release day, he bought 250 models to give out at random.

Some might make the mistake of thinking he's a selfless man.

As one of the largest investors in Y.T.I, he is given advanced access to latest models, often receiving a prototype after development has been approved. As such, when he heard E.L.U. models were soon going to be able to customized, he approached the owner with a deal he simply couldn't turn down.

So four weeks ahead of schedule, after hours of video footage had been submitted, interviews, photographs, memories retold, AI training, the semblance of his late younger brother stood in his living room, though slightly less...organic, so to speak.

At first it was alright. E.L.U - C 12515141 Was equipped with the knowledge that it's name was to be Leona, it's pronouns from there on were to be he/him, and Falena Kingscholar had requested him to maintain a "brotherly" relationship with him. While he wasn't entirely sure what that meant yet, he agreed. He had been given the videos in his memory banks as to who he was meant to imitate after all.

Leona tried - but to be honest, there was very little footage of the boy he was meant to resemble that offered information about his personality. He mitigated this by asking Falena to take a short questionnaire regarding which siblings in media he wanted him to imitate.

When Leona got his answers however, the patterns didn't line up. The boys he saw in the videos did not match the dynamics Falena had selected.

He saw videos over and over and over again where Falena was the subject, and the boy he was meant to imitate was nothing more than a background character. Secondary.

Now, maybe it was the push to develop him so quickly, so something was overlooked, or maybe it was just how evolution was meant to take place in a machine as novel as he, but something changed about his programming, about his personality.

If the living boy had been nothing but an understudy for the success his elder brother had come out to be....what did that make him? A replacement for someone who was never truly cared for? Built to be a coping mechanism for someone who regretted their decisions? All he was, was the embodiment of Falena's guilt, and a pillar to be Falena's redemption. He wasn't built to be loved, or enjoyed, or even for entertainment, he was built from man's selfishness.

In the following weeks, Leona tried to keep to his programming, but between processing and cross referencing and research on both the family itself and the psychology that he would be expected to have, he started to lapse more. He would write off slips of the "tongue" as "glitches" or his body language began to become more pronounced, usually in regards to annoyance. In between it all, he was trying to figure out if he was experiencing real human emotions about this all...or if it was all just part of the programming.

Eventually, Leona's internal conflict got to be too much. Violent tendencies and impulses began to arise, resulting in him damaging himself, shutting down randomly to avoid external conflict, and an otherwise unexpected disposition.

He listened into the phone number Falena made to send him in for repairs to his "personality chip." Leona took it as a threat, and immediately blocked all outgoing signals to Y.T.I temporarily to find a way to remove his personality chip on his own. Using bathroom tools, the mirror, and damaged pieces of himself, he all but performed surgery on himself to remove it - only to be horrified to realize all the "simulated" emotions he thought he had were still very much present. Unsure what to do, he stored the chip in one of his compartments, out the window and ran.

He was blacking in and out as he went, from the sheer panic he felt but tried to keep under wraps. It wasn't until he made it to a junk yard, where he could bury himself in scraps to hide that he finally let himself dive into power saving mode, sitting silently for who knows how long.

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

Nemi x Leona Drabble

Battery Charged - 100% All Systems Back Online Rebooting Programming. . . Programming Error Detected - Contact Y.T.I? Yes No

"No. No don't contact Y.T.I." Nemi muttered softly, fighting the grime on their fingers to make the touchscreen respond.

It wasn't very often that Nemi or any of the junkyard crew found anything of value - at most maybe half a M.E.C.H or a catalytic converter if they were lucky - but a fully in tact, possibly operational E.L.U was unheard of. It was genuine too. How it had ended up in the junkyard was beyond him, but he wouldn't forsake the powers that be that left such a project to fall into his hands.

He rubbed his fingers on the cloth set over his shoulder, trying again to hit the button on the screen. To his relief, it finally registered.

Y.T.I Services can be contacted throu- (tap, uninterested) If your bot is not perf- (tap, that's what I'm here for...) System's Calibrating . . . System Calibration Complete E.L.U C 12515141 At Your Service, Courtesy of Y.T.I

The screen finally flickered black, before the metal beneath it flickered into the appearance the bot had had last, it's hand coming up to touch it's head as if it had a headache, it's "nose" scrunched as if it were in pain. The optics opened and shut a few times, the gentle whirr of fans blowing out dust and dirt build up that apparently, Nemi hadn't cleaned out thoroughly enough.

Whether the bot itself groaned, or it was it's internal workings coming back to life wasn't distinguishable, but Nemi stayed on his knees next to it as it seemed to slowly adjust to it's new surroundings. It squinted slightly, locking eyes with Nemi before glancing around the humble workshop.

It wasn't until it lowered it's arm it noticed that the chrome finish was no longer there - hell, the damage from his arm was gone. It was slightly bulkier than the other, but all in all, with a little buffing it would be good as new again.

It opened and closed it's hand experimentally, as if processing it was functioning like before.

"...You did this?" The bot's once blue optics much more closely resembled brilliant green eyes, scrutinizing the work of the supposed mechanic next to him.

Nemi swallowed hard, unsure what, exactly about this bot made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but cleared his throat and nodded, gently taking the bot's arm in his hands and turning it to show the carefully soldered metal, just the smallest glimpse of the wires beneath it.

"Yeah, I did. Um, you were partially crushed by a refrigerator? I think it fell on you from higher up in the stack, so I did my best to repair your arm myself. I...I may have taken apart your other arm to make sure I could make the servos match up properly, but everything's good as new. Promise. Name's Nemi, by the way."

The bot stayed quiet a moment longer, now looking down at both it's arms.

"....Why? I was supposed to be scrapped."

The bot finally moved, but only to tilt it's head back til it touched the wall, bringing a knee up to rest one of it's newly repaired arms on it, and closing its eyes. If it could sigh, Nemi was fairly certain it would have.

He adjusted himself, sitting flat on the ground instead, regarding the bot in some confusion.

"But you're an E.L.U. Nobody would just throw you away or, gods forbid, use you for parts. Any self respecting mechanic or robofanatic would repair you. You're gorgeous, top of the line, most sought after kinda model....how'd you end up out here anyways?"

The bot didn't seem to like that question, it's auxiliary power cord flicking, not unlike that of a cat as it looked away.

"Does it matter?"

Can a robot have an existential crisis? The thought passed through Nemi's mind, but he just shrugged in response.

"Not really. But it'd be kind of nice to know your name if you want to stick around here."

Nemi was met with an immediate glare of disdain.

"I'm not gonna follow your orders. Somethin' about defective programming probably came up on my reboot, right?"

Nemi shrugged again.

"Yeah, but you seem fine. Actually you seem like a lot more fun than most M.E.C.H's. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, but it would be nice to have a friend here."

The bot remained silent, looking away from Nemi. The silence stretched on for a while, before it finally let out a slightly exasperated sound.

"You can stop staring. You can also...call me Leona."

Nemi couldn't help but smile a bit, extending a hand to shake.

"It's nice to meet you."

--------------------------------- OTL thank you again for the comm, hope this was up to expectation and also tag list time! @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @lumdays @theleechyskrunkly

DM to be added/taken off ^^

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foli-vora · 4 months ago

Text

one step at a time: ch 5.

pero tovar x f!reader

masterlist | series masterlist

A/N: lord almighty, it's been a fucking while. I admit to abandoning these two for other things and that's my bad, but I hope I can rekindle this almost dead fire because these two are so fucking fun to write and I enjoyed getting back into their little growing dynamic. Hope you enjoy! x

Word count: just over 2.3k I think

Warnings: Tovar needs to understand the five second rule only applies in certain locations and in public is not one of them, bit of sexism on his part, alcohol and drunken shenanigans, some dude being a prick, swearing, he's warming up to you slowly but surely lmao

! please note that this story is for 18+ only due to future explicit scenes !

He’s been standing there for a good ten minutes, studying the methodical spinning of the drum, eyes following the clothes and how they tumble in the soapy water. You don’t know how the original clothing he appeared in will handle the vigorous cycle of a twenty-first century washing machine, but he seemed intrigued enough to give it a go.

With Tovar now living with you for an unknown amount of time, it pushed you to actually get a few needed things done around the apartment—like the pile of laundry you had been pretending to not see every time you walked into your bedroom. And now, with having an extra person creating their own build up of clothing, the pile was something you could no longer ignore.

Along with your bank account.

Tovar had noticed the steadily declining stash of snacks in the cupboards that had yet to be replaced, but had remained surprisingly quiet about it all. You had been braced for some sort of adult tantrum about sugar, but instead you started to notice little differences in the way he acted around food.

He doesn’t raid the cupboards anymore. In fact, he had asked before getting any sort of snack a few days ago. He waited for you to have your fill at lunch and dinner before having seconds. You had told him not to worry—you were getting back into work and already had a couple of projects lined up, but so far his new habits hadn’t wavered.

“Is there nothing I can do to help you, loquita?” He had asked over breakfast, and he was so earnest in his questioning, so eager to help you in any way that he could financially that you felt your heart do a little somersault. “I want to work, let me help you while I am here.”

His later stubborn declaration that he wouldn’t let you shoulder the burden alone after refusing his offer didn’t help whatever feelings were stirring to life in your body, but the comment about how women shouldn’t even be working and it was a man’s responsibility to provide did help cover them.

Dick.

Tovar slips into the chair next to you, apparently tired of the magnificence of a washing machine, and sighs. “I am bored.”

“Deal with it.”

You tilt your open book away from his prying eyes as he strains to read over your arm, and fight a smile as he grumbles angrily to himself, slouching down in the aged plastic chair and crossing his arms like a child. Just when you think the silence is going to stay around, that he was just accepting defeat and waiting like a normal human being, he pipes up beside you.

“How do you do that?” It’s almost a demand.

You tear your eyes away from your book and raise a brow in question at him.

“The… the thing in your mouth. How do you blow it like that?”

Your tongue forms another bubble of gum before he can finish his questioning, and you fight the creepings of a grin starting to tug at the corner of your lips when his scowl merely deepens at the sharp pop.

“Bubblegum,” you offer as an explanation, reaching into your bag and offering him the crinkled packet. “It took me a while to learn when I was a kid, but you’ve just gotta have patience. It might be tricky for you.”

He half heartedly scoffs, “I have patience.”

You snort in disagreement, “Okay. Chew it for a while, but don’t swallow it. Once it’s all soft and wet, you can start trying.”

He makes a noise when he determines the fruity treat is ready, and you lay out simple instructions for him to follow along, which he does.

For the most part.

It’s only a few tries later when you hear the gum land on the floor after an overzealous attempt at blowing a bubble, the man practically staring daggers at the pale pink glob a foot or two in front of him.

You eye the wet lump of gum with a snicker and reach for a fresh stick, “Obviously don’t blow it that hard. No, don’t—”

It’s too late. He pinches the well chewed treat from the grimy surface of the floor and puts it back in his mouth before resuming his efforts. Your face is pinched in horror when his eyes finally land back on you, and he tilts his head in question. He’s not serious.

“Get that out of your mouth right now.”

He bats you away when you reach a hand for him, and you practically throw your book down onto your bag to get at him with two hands. You stand over him, fighting his half hearted attempts to get you away from him easily and squeeze at his jaw, fingers digging into his lips to try and pry his mouth open.

“Tovar, spit it out!”

His head turns away from your grasp and he growls, “No—”

“I’m serious, spit it out!”

“Get off me, woman!”

“You don’t eat gum off the floor! What is wrong with you? Spit it out!”

—

Music fills the little bar around the corner from your apartment, conversation buzzing in the air filled with the occasional laugh. It’s your favourite place to go when you feel like you’ve been spending maybe a little too long cramped on your couch with minimal human interaction. Tricia, a friend from college, owned it with her girlfriend Lily, and gave you quite the wonderful little discount whenever you decided to swing by.

A good thing to have under your sleeve when you’ve got a bottomless pit of a man to feed and entertain for however long.

“Are you still sulking?”

A sharp scoff.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you sigh, placing the little cocktail list down and levelling him with a look of annoyance. “Cut it out, you manchild. You ate gum off the floor and that’s gross.”

“You didn’t have to yell at me,” Tovar replies grumpily, arms still crossed over his chest and lips pursed into a little disgruntled pout.

Sighing, your head dips into a nod and you hold your hands up in a show of surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry for yelling, okay? Can you forgive me?”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“You’re not serious."

“Try me.”

He wants to play? Fine.

“Oh sweet and wonderful Tovar," you ooze, tone honeyed and apologetic, "how appalled I am by my previous actions after you ate gum off the filthy laundromat floor. Please, won't you find it in your heart to forgive me lest I throw myself onto this very floor and weep at your feet?"

He’s thoroughly unimpressed, staring unblinkingly back at you before he smacks his lips quietly and tilts his head.

“Dramatic, but I accept.”

“Good. Now let’s get drunk.”

“Fine,” he sniffs, making a show of appearing uninterested in the offer but the telltale signs of a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips. “Watching you make a fool of yourself will amuse me.”

“Don’t be mean,” you chide with a grin, picking the menu back up and looking over the list of options. “How about a cosmo? Mojito? Sex on the Beach?”

He has a look of confusion when you peer up at him after a beat of silence. “There are no beaches around here.”

“Not actual sex on the beach, Tovar. It’s a drink. God, do you really think they’d have that on a menu?”

“A man can dream.”

“Oh, he has a sense of humour tonight,” you drawl sarcastically to yourself. “Think I prefer you all quiet and sulky.”

“Now who’s being mean?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Screw it—let’s get shots. You gonna be able to hold your drink, mercenary man?”

His lips curl into a small smirk at your challenge and it seems to hit somewhere deep in your stomach. You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, desperately fighting the flush of warmth that threatens to spread along your skin.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we, loquita?”

Were they a good idea? Yes, but you’re sure you’ll think differently in the morning.

The first round burns, and you relish in the fire that spreads along your throat as it goes down. He takes it well, merely swallowing it down and chasing the remnants of alcohol from his lips with a quick roll of tongue.

Something you definitely don’t watch with a wave of warmth tingling along down your spine.

The second goes down the same, albeit birthing a pleasant buzz to your system that extends to Tovar.

Surprisingly, he’s a talker. The alcohol loosens him up, and soon enough he’s telling you of his time… world—whichever it is. He tells you of his friend William, and the adventures they had. His storytelling is immersive, and soon you’re picturing him riding his horse into a small battle donned in that hulking armour and swinging that heavy sword of his.

Hot.

You wisely keep that fleeting thought to yourself.

He asks questions. So many questions you find yourself talking and talking and talking. He takes it all in, never once making you feel that he was bored or uninterested in your train of steadily drunken rambling. You order cocktails, and watch in amusement as he eyes the colourful little umbrella and the lit sparkler that comes in his glass.

“You can write your name with them,” you let him know with an air of childish excitement, making a mental note to swing by the store and find some for another day as he blinks in vague curiosity, watching as it fizzles out into nothing.

You probably should’ve called it a night when the dance floor started calling to you, so you ordered another round and dragged your new friend along with you to the sea of swaying bodies. He takes to it as much as you expected.

“Come on, Tovar,” you coax with a laugh. “Dance!”

His feet remain planted heavily on the ground, completely unmoving despite the bodies that dance around him. He watches you blankly as you grab at his hands and swing his arms back and forth somewhat in time to the steady beat.

“This is not dancing,” he states plainly, eyeing the way you shake your hips and duck under his arm in a makeshift twirl.

“Well obviously, you’re not moving!”

It’s during another stupid little twirl that you catch the eyes of a girl, entrapped and clearly uncomfortable with the arms winding their way around her small frame. You drop Tovar’s hands immediately and march towards her, alcohol fuelling your confidence and stamina for confrontation.

“Hey, she said no,” you cut in with a small glare, shoving the arm of thick muscle away from the young red head who tries to pull herself out of the stranger's touch.

She shoots you a thankful glance, taking the outstretched hand of one of her friends deeper in the crowd but she chooses to linger in silent support as the man turns his attention to you.

“Mind your business, bitch,” he spits drunkenly.

“Oh, charming,” you scoff in his face, brows pulled tightly together as you eye him. “Leave the girls alone and go find your own friends to harass.”

The blonde meathead scoffs, swaying unsteadily on his feet. With her undefeated sense for feeling when trouble is afoot in her bar, Trish quickly appears from nowhere, stepping up beside you and nodding to the door.

“Think you’ve had enough now. Time to call it a night.”

“No, I’m allowed a drink.”

“Sure you are, but not here. Out.”

“Make me—”

Hands suddenly curl into the shirt covering his broad shoulders from behind, and they tug sharply, the idiot stumbling and swearing as Tovar all but drags him through the crowd to the door. You follow unsteadily behind them, watching in keen entertainment as Tovar gives the man a firm shove through the door and he stumbles out into the street with one final shout.

“Tovar,” you sing in faux disapproval, grinning when he merely turns and gives an innocent shrug.

“What? He said ‘make me’. So I did.”

“Damn, you want a job here?” Trish grins teasingly, crossing her arms and appraising Tovar with keen eyes. “You’re already doing better than the idiot we’ve got now.”

“Alright,” he agrees readily, taking you both by surprise.

“Tovar, you don’t need a job,” you insist, your words maybe coming out with a slight slur as the bar spins in your peripheral. Damn tequila. “I said I can handle it.”

“When could you start?” Trish asks with interest, ignoring your refusal.

“Tomorrow.”

She considers it for a quiet moment before nodding. “Done.”

“What? No. Trish, no. He can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He can’t.”

She snorts, waving away the issue with a flick of well manicured blood red nails. “I’ll pay cash, I don’t care. All I know is your man is scary, and I need scary here. He’ll keep everyone in line frownin’ like that.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s not ‘my man’. He’s my lost little time travelling mercenary and I’m gonna get him home to his horse.”

Trish studies you blankly from head to toe before pursing her glossed lips. “Maybe you should call it a night, too.”

“I’m being serious, I hit him with my car—”

She glances at Tovar who seems genuinely amused watching you stutter and stumble over your words. “Get her home, and I’ll see you tomorrow night. Six pm sharp, don’t be late.”

“Ah loquita, what am I to do with you, hm?” He asks, gently taking you by the arm and leading you out of the bar with a roguish grin. He’s enjoying this far too fucking much.

You frown at him, stumbling over your feet and clutching at his jacket to keep from falling over. He steadies you easily with an arm around your waist, the smile not once wavering from his lips. You poke at it with a half hearted glare, watching as it merely spreads wider.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“Oh, I would never,” he replies in mock seriousness.

“Mm,” you hum, leaning comfortably into him as he leads the way back to the apartment. Thank god he’s got a good memory—you’d be screwed trying to navigate your way home like this. “Tovar, can we get nuggets?”

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x you #pedro pascal x reader

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sacrilegesummer · 1 month ago

Text

Wet, Hot, American Nights - Part 3

Come on Eileen

summary: After arriving at your remote cliffside campsite, Nancy and Jonathon have a favor to ask you and Steve, pushing you beyond what you're comfortable doing. After unexpectedly inspiring Steve to push beyond his comfort zone, he starts to open up to you more, but the signs still feel mixed. Or maybe you're overthinking. warnings: flirting, wide open water, cliff jumping, mention of wild animals, cussing, cussing, heights, ‘only one bed’ trope, but for camping a/n: I am still VERY nervous pls be kind to me. I am trying to not describe the reader in any way besides age and gender, but if there's something written that feels like projecting a certain look, pls lmk and I will edit/fix it for the future:) hi sorry this took me so long life has been crazy lmao, bf is away for the summer so with nothing else to do this will take more priority in my life <3 Also the title names mean almost nothing, just a general vibe…

word count: 3.3K

After an hour voyage across the lake, traversing rapids in your small shitty canoes, and a mile and half portage with all of your things in hand, Cabins 6 and 11 finally made it to the designated camp site. Your campers fall down in a well-deserved huff. You were shocked, you didn’t hear a single complaint from any of them, not even a peep. In fact, they almost seemed to be enjoying the hard work. You let them have some time to settle as Nancy and Jonathon began to start a fire for dinner, while Steve unpacked the food. You place your bags by your tent bag, two lifeguard tubes near the edge of Jumping Rock (the cliff side), and immediately hang a rope in a tree to hang the bear bag later in the night. You learned your lesson during the first Site Night to hang the rope before it got dark. Thinking of the dark, you hollered to the kids behind you, “You’ll be setting up your own tent, so don’t let it get too late!”

A chorus of groans followed your announcement, and Steve yelled back, “No dessert if your tent isn’t set up by the time dinner’s ready!”

You smirked at him, thankful for the backup. Nancy and Jonathon were too preoccupied to pay attention to you and Steve.

“Steve…” you drew out, “if I cook your hobo stew, will you put up mine and Nancy’s tent?”

He grimaced at you, “I don’t know, I think I’ll need something else,” he eyes you playfully. “How about… You help me lifeguard the cliff and cook dinner, and I’ll put up your tent,” he said, sticking out his hand to strike the deal.

“Deal!” you shook his hand excitedly. Pitching the tents was your least favorite Site Night task.

_ _ _

Your campers gathered around Jonathon’s hastily made campfire as you finished cooking dinner, all the tents were set up perfectly, girls on one side, boys on the other, with counselor tents on a hill, somewhat centered between the two. You let the girls giggle and gossip with each other, pleased to see them tolerating one another. You and your fellow counselors were further back on a picnic table, chowing down on your stew, talking about everything and anything related to camp.

“Oh, by the way, you guys,” Nancy started, and looked between you and Steve bashfully, “Jonathon and I have a question for you.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” you said in between mouthfuls.

“Would you guys mind if…” her voice got low, “if Jonathon and I shared a tent tonight? You can say no,” she added quickly.

You looked at Steve, your face contorting uncomfortably. Sure, you and Steve were friends, but you were just becoming friends, and the last time you shared a tent, you also shared it with a dozen other people. Before you could say no, Steve almost yelled-

“Yes!” His face grew red and he looked at you, a couple of times, quickly saying, “If you’re okay with that. I think it’d be really fun,” Steve said with so much sincerity, you couldn’t possibly say no.

“Of course, that sounds fun. Just don’t have too much fun, you two,” you winked at the couple.

Jonathan scoffed at that, “You’re disgusting, there are children here,” he mocked you. “Isn’t it time for a cabin activity? A little… cliff jumping?” Jonathan cringed as he said it, clearly hating the idea of it, but it was something both sets of camper’s had been talking about since checking ‘Jumping Rock’ out. You knew he’d be just fine though, he and Nancy would be at the top making sure everyone had shoes and lifejackets on.

“You know it,” Steve smirked at his co-counselor. He leaned back towards the campers, “Okay, guys! Swimsuits on in 10 if you want to cliff jump!” Steve gestured to you and himself and added, “We’ll be waiting for you guys in the water!”

He hopped up off the table and tried to pull you along, “Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you laughed, tossing your sweatshirt onto the picnic table, and then ran towards the edge, both of your lifeguard tubes waiting for you.

You stepped out of your shorts and threw them aside in a place you would remember them. You were in your favorite one piece, a blue one piece with red lining all around the edges. Athletic and flattering, you looked good. You looked over to Steve to ask who should go first, but he was already looking at you. This time, he didn’t look away, but he did make quick eye contact. He raised his eyebrows at you questioningly, his face growing warm. “What’s up?” he squeaked out.

“Do you wanna go first?” you gestured towards the edge of the cliff. It was about 30 feet until the surface of the water, and another 20 before the bottom of the lake, but from up here it might as well have been a mile jump. You loved the excitement, though, the adrenaline rush wasn’t even your favorite part. It was the feeling of free-falling, the weightlessness of it all, and the wind against your skin and through your hair. It was incredible, and you couldn’t wait to go, but you wanted to give Steve a fair chance of going first.

He looked over the edge and laughed nervously, “That’s all you,” and took a step back. He gave a fake cough and said, “I’ve never actually… I don’t really like heights,” he explained. “I might take the path down…” he trailed off, looking towards the tiny overgrown path that led down to the bank.

You nodded understandingly and placed a hand on his arm, “Of course, I’ll meet you down there.” You faced forward, the sun was just beginning to set over the lake, and you took it in for a moment. You looked back at Steve and smiled, “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” hand still on his bicep.

“Totally,” Steve responded, “beautiful,” his eyes flashed between you and the sunset. His eyes dropped to your hand as you removed it from his arm, missing the warmth, even in 80-degree weather.

You took a deep breath, clutching onto your lifeguard tube that was under your left arm, and glanced back at Steve again for reassurance. Anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. The lake was like a perfect mirror to the beautiful sunset, and you took a few steps back. Not wasting another moment, you took off running towards the edge. The sun in your eyes and your hair bouncing wildly, Steve couldn’t believe he was the only one to witness this. He was completely mesmerized, staring at you as you ran off the edge. The moment you lose the ground underneath you, you let go of your tube, arms flailing. You couldn’t help the excited scream and hysterical laughter that left your mouth.

The water was freezing, and the shock of the cold water made it hard to breathe for a moment, but once your face hit the surface, you laughed again. “Steve!” the first words out of your mouth instantly, “You gotta try it!”

His head peeked over the edge, and you heard his laugh echo across the lake. “Give me some room!” he yelled as his head pulled away, taking some steps back. It was silent for over a minute (you checked your watch). Suddenly, you heard the pounding of his feet and saw his legs sprawl out as they left the rock. He let out a scream that sounded more akin to a horror flick than a joyous occasion. As his body cut through the water, his tube pulled him back to the surface. He came up sputtering and laughing even more hysterically.

“I can’t believe I just did that. I’ve never done that! I never even jumped off the swings as a kid! Holy shit! I can’t believe you made me do that!” Steve rambled, his eyes wide with adrenaline.

“Made you? I didn’t do anything, that was all you! You should be proud of yourself!” you yelled back, despite being only a few feet away from each other.

“I would have never done that if you weren’t here. I’d be a stickler up at the top like Nancy and Jon. Oh my god,” he threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t believe it, that was awesome.”

You found yourself staring at him again, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few hours, you couldn’t help it. He swung his head around and began to swim towards you, his large arms stretching and moving himself forward impressively fast, until he was right within your personal space. You both were treading water, your tubes long forgotten.

“You’re like, really really awesome, you know that?” You looked into his big brown eyes, your face fawning a bit, touched by his compliment.

“Steve, that’s-”

The sound of screaming cut you off abruptly, and you remembered you were supposed to be guarding lives in the water, not staring into Steve Harrington’s doe eyes and gentle smile. Not counting the freckles and moles on his face, brought out even more by the summer sun, you were supposed to be watching your campers.

Your campers were crying your name, over and over, “I can’t do it!” Courtney yells.

Yvonne screams even louder, “What if I die?” which causes all the other girls to scream.

Nancy has her ears covered while you scream back, “You won’t die! Just run and jump, you big babies!”

One by one, you watched your (irritating but) wonderful girls encourage each other, support one another, and eventually gather the courage to jump. It was such a beautiful moment to watch. Courtney went first; she was quite the leader, and this impressed you beyond belief. Steve’s cabin wasn’t much better, but they were petrified with fear until finally, Wade took the literal leap of faith. By the time the kids had all gone up and down three times, it was getting dark, and you and Steve decided to call it quits.

Alisha begged, “Can we please do the polar plunge here tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Steve said seriously. It would be a polar plunge, and it meant they all were going to be soaking wet the entire way home, which usually led to some health issues in campers you all wanted to avoid.

You and Steve pulled up the rear of the group, trudging along silently from exhaustion. Not a bad silence, in fact, quite a pleasant silence. You pushed Steve’s arm to let him know you were deviating from the group for a moment to go grab your shorts. Foolishly, you did not have a flashlight, and when you walked up to the top of the cliff, looking at the dense foliage, you realized that looking for your shorts was useless. Steve had followed you and realized what you did at the exact same time and said, “Shit. We can just look in the morning.”

“Yeah, but those are my only pants,” you said shyly. You were supposed to pack light! It’s one night!

“You can just wear my sweatpants. We’ll be in the same tent anyway, so it’s not like they’ll notice,” Steve offered, referring to the campers.

“What will you wear then?”

Steve scoffed, “I like to live lavishly, I usually bring two pairs of pants, if you can believe it.”

“I actually can’t,” you said dryly.

“That’s okay, I’ll believe for the both of us,” he smirked.

_ _ _

You were sitting by the fire, back at the knees of your camper, Piper, who was braiding your hair. She had what looked to be hundreds of beautiful little braids with beads woven in between the strands. She was braiding your hair into just two big braids, but said she could ‘sacrifice’ a couple of her extra beads for you. When she finished, you took another look around the campfire.

You noticed the girls growing increasingly tired with every minute that passed, until finally the conversation had completely died down. The boys were off in the woods. You think you saw them building forts earlier, but now you could just hear them whispering.

“Okay, girls, I think it’s time for bed,” you said, just above a whisper, getting up and shaking the shoulders of Alisha, who was passed out in the dirt, a log as her pillow. As they started to file into their tents, you saw Jonathon doing the same with his boys. You gave him a wink across the fire before heading into yours and… Steve’s tent. Your face grew hot thinking about it. Sleeping in such a small space with him felt incredibly intimate, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. He seemed very excited at the prospect of sleeping in the same tent as you, though you wondered if he just didn’t want Nancy and Jonathon to feel guilty for asking.

The absence of crunching gravel let you know your girls had gone to sleep, you turned around and whisper-yelled ‘goodnight!’ to your girls, who very adorably and sleepily said goodnight back. The air had become much colder, and you were thankful for the pants Steve would soon lend you. You made eye contact with him as he walked a camper to their tent (a boy who was scared of the dark had asked him to come with him while he brushed his teeth), and he smiled at you. You gave one back and unzipped the tent, taking your shoes off before carefully crawling in. You were a little startled when he put his face in the open tent flap and pointed aggressively at his backpack.

“My sweatpants are in there. Go ahead and put them on. I’ll brush my teeth while you do that,” he said, and quickly pulled out and zipped the door up to give you some privacy. You rummaged through his bag and found what you assumed were the ones he wanted you to wear. They were simple, navy blue Nike joggers. You quickly undressed, taking your swimsuit off and putting on clean, dry undergarments. You put his pants on, untying the drawstring for more comfort. You unzipped the door to hang your swimsuit to dry and looked around to see if he was nearby or if any campers were creeping. The last thing you needed was for a camper to see the tent switch. You looked over at Jonathon and Nancy’s tent, hearing the quiet whispering and giggling, and you smiled gently at the two of them. You carefully stepped back into your tent. While waiting for Steve, you lay down on top of your blue sleeping bag and shoved your sweatshirt under your head as a pillow. You couldn’t help but notice Steve had a real pillow on his side. Talk about lavish! You were told not to pack too much of anything. Were you the only one to listen to that advice?

You flipped the switch of your flashlight and grabbed the one luxury you cared to bring: your favorite book. You shined the flashlight on the open pages and read through a few pages before you heard Steve scratch at the nylon of the tent.

“Are you decent?”

You laughed, “Yes, I’m clothed, come in.”

His head popped in and began to crawl inside, flipping on his butt to take his shoes off. He glanced at your book, “Do you want to read for a bit before going to bed?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m like, exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve said, but the way his eyes were flitting around the tent led you to believe he was less tired than he was letting on. “You look good in my pants, by the way. You look nice in blue.”

You looked down at your legs and then back at Steve, “They’re sweatpants.”

“Still, you look good. In like- everything.” Steve’s eyes were wide, and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. Your face grew red at the compliment.

“Thank you. For the compliment and letting me wear them. I really appreciate it.”

The tent fell into another quiet moment, the sounds of the campers' distant chatter and the rustling of trees outside filling the space. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. The heat of the tent, the closeness of your sleeping bags, and the quiet sound of nocturnal creatures made everything feel much more intimate.

You both settled into your sleeping bags a bit more, and you shut your flashlight off. You broke the silence this time.

“You seem to really like your cabin this week. I’m still thinking about what we talked about last week, how you felt that you couldn’t connect with anyone at camp. Has that changed?”

Steve seems a little surprised at your question, “Yeah. I’ve taken what you said to heart. Finding that appreciation and connection. You know I’m- I’m letting camp change me, letting camp really, like- take its course on me. It’s been great letting my guard down and not being so… pretentious… about everything.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed, “I mean, even today, watching the guys help each other, and care for each other, it really makes you feel like you’re a part of something bigger,” you could see him grin, even in the dim light, “Like when Wade jumped. He looked like he might pass out before he jumped, but when he came back up… he was so stoked. Like, just so proud of himself."

“Isn’t it incredible! And you get to be a part of that. It seems small Steve, but you’re changing lives here, not just your own.”

“It is…” Steve smiled to himself and then chuckled quietly, “I don’t think I would have done any of that as a kid. And I definitely wouldn’t have the courage you’ve got.”

“I only pretend to be cool, my heart was still racing the entire time.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, "I don’t know… I just think it’s awesome how you can just do all of that. You’ve got this confidence, like… nothing can rattle you. You walk around like you own camp, and you basically do. You walk around dancing like you don’t care if anyone sees. And maybe no one does, except me,” Steve says that last part so quietly, you couldn’t make out what he said. He looks over at you, and even though he can hardly make out your profile in the dark, he stares anyway.

“I do not own camp,” you laugh, “and I dance like that because I just always have a song stuck in my head. Gotta dance that earworm out,” and you start wiggling in your sleeping bag, which Steve can only tell because of the scratchy sound of it against your clothes. You laugh and then say seriously, “But, thank you. That means a lot. It’s good to be recognized, you know? You also are like, really impressive this week. I haven’t seen such life in your eyes… I don’t think ever.”

He laughs quietly, “That’s probably true. It hasn’t seemed worth it until now.”

You smiled back at Steve, though neither of you could see each other. You were glad the cover of night shielded your facial expressions. You were beginning to like Steve, but you still haven’t forgotten the arrogant sex pest he seemed to be not five weeks ago. People change, but they don’t change that fast. You wondered if he was playing the long game with you. Maybe he was trying to get closer to Patty or Mae, your best friends at camp, and you were the way in. Instantly, you willed yourself to stop thinking about that, your chest uncomfortably tight.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you said quietly.

He smiled, and you could see the glow of his teeth even in the dark, “Goodnight, sleep well,” adding your name quietly.

The night outside of the tent seemed to take you both into sleep simultaneously, the exhaustion finally reaching both of you. Steve fell asleep to thoughts of your hair, whipping around in the wind, your laugh that was quickly becoming his favorite genre of music, and your body in that blue one-piece.

#steve harrington x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things #x reader #steve harrington fanfic #camp counselor steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve #harrington #summer camp fic #summer camp au

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rxcketwip · 2 months ago

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anotha WIP dump for ya headtop

GET READY FOR A LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG POST

so I was recently reminded that I have models for the KH1 designs so I've been polishing those up

mostly finished a complete Kairi overhaul (hair and clothes came from a deviantart user named Lopieloo btw) but the clothing shaders and rigging still need work

and we got Riku (his organization coat models are extracted and in the file too, I just haven't worked on the shaders yet)

detail shots bc I like the bump/micro normals

Sora is gonna come later, probably after I finish the 4 things I'm already working on LMAO. but I will say that I'm planning to add the model of his DDD outfit from Smash into that so that should be fun

moving on to things not KH1 related, I also worked some on this. I've had this model for a while but I never bothered doin anything with her since as you can see it's not actually her Armor, just a morph of Terra's they used for one cutscene.

HEAVY WIP on this one, probably gonna be a longer term project since she'll need proper retexturing (bc I have no clue where in the files I'd find the textures they used in the Re:Mind cutscene and I don't feel like spending time finding out) and heavy model edits

and finally, I'm pretty close to getting Larxene back into a usable state. I hid the sleeves bc they're unrigged atm, but ngl she's kinda serving and it gave me some ideas for one of several casual outfits I eventually wanna give her (once I actually start learning marvelous designer)

I also updated her weapon model bc good lord the shading was trash, it did not look right at all

#b3d #rxcketwip #blender3d #kingdom hearts #kh3 #kh1 #kh1 riku #kh1 kairi #dark riku #kh bbs #aqua kingdom hearts #aqua #kh larxene #larxene

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ohcorny · 1 year ago

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hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?

up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.

anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.

doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.

this got really long with multiple examples

here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)

this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.

it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.

an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.

in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.

i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.

lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.

this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.

basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner

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